ã€ŠImminent Destructionã€‹


 1. Fade

    The discovery of the spacial warp anomoly (SWA) changed the space race. Humankind, once struggling to utilize its own star system, became able to colonize systems in multiple galaxys along with points in deep space. The only limitation was locating SWAs, where they led, and the enomourses resources required to utilize them.

    With many systems having two or even three SWAs to exploit, the great era of exploration began. And what was found? Nothing. Humanity was truley alone. Galaxy after galaxy, system after system, none of the SWAs ever led to any undiscovered civilation. Seemingly endless resources fueled the hunger for new SWAs and the systems they opened. Humanity spread from the Sol system, establishing system interchanges like strings leading to different points in the universe. The Federation was concieved on Earth as a unified government of all settlements, and made possible by instantaneous faster than light travel allowed by the SWAs.

    This Human Federation reigned across the universe for two thousand years until systems began to assert independence from an increasingly centralized control from the Senate. The great families struggled for power as systems became feifdoms. For another thousand years the known universe society collapsed into a collection of waring states. Entire planets were devestated by nuclear hellfire.

    Then came the New Republic. System after system was reconquered. Radioactive planets were cleansed. Earth was no longer the center of the universe as the Carine system replaced the ancient Sol system in both technology, population, industry and granduer. The Federal Republic reconquered the entire known universe in less than fifty years and held it together for a thousand years, eventually becoming an Empire under the house Harnicor. The empire has held the human domain together through the sheer military and political will inherited from the Republic for yet another thousand years.

    But nothing lasts forever, not empires spaning the known universe, not even humanity. Imperial Harnicor is tired, and the greatest portion of the universe remains a hungering emptiness waiting to devour.

    -----

    Hazy steam rose from the wet street. Dew clung to windows reflecting the blue and red rays of the moons. Grayish red dust clumps clung to curbs. Two rusted beams rose from the jagged edges of the tower, the horns of the Gothic Retreat. It was the highest structure in a city dominated by squat buildings. The windows under the horns of rust glared at the streets below.

    Two bouncers with shaved heads, both two meters in height exactly, stood guard over the entrance. Both stood with feet apart, muscular arms wrapped tightly around their chests. They could have been twins.

    Across the street, Fade rubbed the sash buckle of his crimson trench coat as he waited in the shadows of an aging apartment complex. A damp wind blew from the west to press the folds of his coat into his revolver. His worn red cowboy hat with its withered band of black leather frayed around the rim. The dyed red leather of his boots looked unforgiving. He tapped the cement with his toe as he leaned against a wall. The neon lights flickered to bouncing rhythms from loud bass lines that echoed into the alleys.

    Fade whistled to himself as he sensed a human net forming. Soft footsteps pattered in the alley to the left. They were difficult to hear amidst the music from the tower. Something shuffled in the shadows behind a concrete barrier covered in graffiti. Five minutes passed as he sensed the shuffling, breathing, and waiting from around him. As Fade acted like he was casing the club, he noticed a glare from across the street.

    The bouncers refused a teenage couple entrance by blocking the way with a shake of their heads. The two walked for a bit but lingered in sight and began making out while half in shadow. Fade snickered as a young man joined him; he looked to be unarmed.

    ¡°I have a fat one,¡± Fade said, referring to a one hundred thousand Haricon Imperial note he was now holding between his fingers, ¡°What¡¯s new?¡±

    Spit hit the ground, ¡°Did you honestly think this is about the information?¡± asked the man, ¡°There¡¯s a bounty on your head; Imperials aren¡¯t welcome here no more.¡±

    ¡°Still Imperial territory last I checked, so your little revolution can wait,¡± Fade said with a sigh, ¡°So this is really about the bounty? I thought it was something more. Another dead end. So, let¡¯s see, I counted about one, two, three, six altogether, when are you planning to release the beasts?¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The man¡¯s lower lip twisted, ¡°Mercenary knows where you are! Come out and say hello!¡±

    As the man stepped back, the lanky couple stopped making out and approached. A blubbery giantess of a woman in a spiked collar bounced from the alley to the left. She blocked the entire way with her girth; her breathing was light and movement fast for her weight. From the other side, a lanky guy with a spiked bright purple Mohawk, also in a spiked collar, approached with metal pipes in both hands. The fifth collared member of the party strolled across the street; a large metal cross tipped by cylindrical spikes at each end in his left hand. The man who spoke to Fade opened a steel switchblade.

    Fade stepped forward with a shrug as the group encircled him, ¡°Okay, so you have me surrounded. You want to kill your best customer? And you really want to pick a fight right in front of your club? I thought you kids would know by now that I¡¯m not some pushover detective or Imperial cop.¡±

    ¡°Home court advantage,¡± bellowed the fat woman, the freckles on her face lifting as she smiled.

    ¡°Mercenary rat,¡± snarled one, her front teeth pushing forward as she spoke.

    ¡°Well,¡± said the ringleader, ¡°You¡¯ve been useful, but we¡¯re part of the big revolution now. A capitalist imperial mercenary dog scum like yourself won¡¯t understand. You¡¯re going to scream once for every comrade you¡¯ve killed.¡±

    The man with the spiked cross sprinted to jump to the front. The first to attack, he swung the cross laterally aimed to slam into Fade¡¯s right shoulder. With a quick step back, Fade caught the cross with his left hand and swung his attacker, who refused to let go of the weapon. As he went around in a spiral, his boots slammed into the faces of a couple of fighters with enough force to knock them down. Fade kept spinning him until the attacker got motion sick and let go. He flew sideways into a man with two metal pipes before the cross smacked into his head lengthwise.

    Four members of the attacking party were now disorganized after their initial attack. Fade felt the switchblade stab into his coat as the tip put a little hole in his side before getting stuck in the armor fabric. He swung about and punched the attacker in the throat. Then he pulled the knife out of his coat. Mohawk attacked with right hook. Fade dodged and sunk the blade so deep into his right thigh that he couldn¡¯t pull it back out.

    ¡°What a crew! Six of you against me isn¡¯t a fair fight... next time bring more.¡±

    The Mohawk pulled the knife out of his leg, twirled it, and glared at Fade as he gripped the stained blade. But when Fade stared back the man¡¯s legs quivered. Fade noticed the liquid filled nodules between each spike on the collars of his attackers. The fat giantess, who had been calmly blocking an escape route until now, pressed a nodule on her collar. In the span of ten seconds her arms grew hairy, her incisors grew by half a centimeter, and her fingernails extended into claws. Mohawk developed massive muscles throughout his arms and legs, and postured himself like a gorilla as the wound on his thigh healed.

    ¡°Wow, you don¡¯t look like a chicken anymore,¡± Fade sighed.

    The man who wielded the cross grew longer fangs and hissed with a fork tongue. Reptilian scales grew over his skin. The three pounced at once. The snake man grew fangs from his fingernails that sprayed acidic venom.

    Fade dodged left. Venom bubbled against the wall of an apartment dome. Then Fade stepped aside right as the gorilla charged into the acid weakened residential complex. Outer molding crumpled away to reveal broken insulation.

    The fat werewolf lost track of Fade. We black nose sniffed and her hairy ears perked upwards. His scent was strong, too strong, it seemed to be everywhere. Behind her, but how!? She received two swift kicks to her backside and stumbled over top the gorilla morph. Fade darted forward, took the snake by the neck, and squeezed until it passed out. The fat wolf woman wasn¡¯t done, her body jiggled as she jumped from the wreckage and swiped widely. Her landing made the ground tremble.

    The gorilla man managed to get on his feet while Fade dodged her swipes. He charged from behind only for Fade to twirl out of the way and let him skid into his huge companion. Fade twirled again. His coat became a red blur as his boot met the back of the mohawk gorilla man¡¯s head. As the gorilla collapsed, Fade pulled three darts from his pocket. With a few flicks, they were sent into the bodies of the genetically altered squad. In the span of ten seconds, each reverted back to their human form. At this point, the remaining crew retreated if they were able. As their boss recovered, he tried to get up and run, but Fade caught him and pulled him into the shadows before forcing him to his knees with a kick to the shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill me,¡± the man said, ¡°I won¡¯t bother you anymore. I... I didn¡¯t know how strong you were. That¡¯s why I hired the users.¡±

    ¡°So you''re worthless to me,¡± Fade said.

    A flick on the forehead from Fade¡¯s index finger pierced flesh. Bone cracked. A small fountain of blood spured. The man fell to the pavement. He screamed. Cried. Rolled around with his hands on his forehead.

    ¡°My brain! My brain!! Oh shit!!! Oh shit!!¡± he screamed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time, got that?¡± Fade grumbled, "Next time the injury won''t heal."

    Police sirens wailed in the distance. The ringleader dared look up as he held the leaking wound over the center of his forehead. The pain rang through his head and wouldn¡¯t stop. His team was scattered about and down. His target was nowhere to be seen in his blurred vision. He muttered a curse. The bouncers stood like statues at their posts as if the fight never happened.

 2. Destiny

    The two moons orbiting Hakkut shone tonight. Dion, almost half the size of the planet, displayed a soft radiance of blue from the haze of its atmosphere. A red rocky moon, Ameena, orbited Dion. The red glint within the circle of hazy blue dominated the night sky. Fade sighed as he left the narrow alleys, then adjusted his hat against the cool winds as he walked past the headquarters of the imperial garrison.

    The imposing red brick walls of the fortress bristled with barbed wire. Fade knew the fortress was not as deeply constructed, or equipped, as it was reputed to be. Then again, it was a decent enough for Imperial ground forces to maintain control of the planet in peaceful times. Other important terrestrial fortresses and planetary anti-landing systems were rumored to exist.

    At a taxi stop at the southwest corner of the fortress a group of about twenty young officers passed. The leader of the group laughed as he broke out into a drinking ballad. The others joined, singing about getting laid in poorly timed unison. Most loosened their tight black ties as they sang, stuffing them in their pockets. There was a strong odor of booze as some of the soldiers roughhoused with each other.

    Fade waited for them to pass before pressing his fist into a dirty yellow button on the edge of a bench; it never budged with less forceful methods. A metal pole rose from the ground and adjusted to his height. A touch screen provided the interface for the entry of necessary data, his real name and his monetary identification code. Next it asked for his destination, which was four hundred and two kilometers north by northeast.

    Four hundred and forty H-credits were deducted from his card. Several minutes later, a yellow hover craft kicked up a cloud of pallid gray dust as it touched the ground. Rust stains crawled upward from the craft¡¯s lower body; they rose from deep scratches as gristly brown dots.

    The front fender collected dents, while deep craters pocked the vehicle¡¯s body. Fade stepped into the cab and sat on the worn leather seats. The cabby cleared the protective barrier between cab and compartment, then flicked on the speakers. He turned to face his customer, the unshaven face stared blankly.

    ¡°Before we go any further, are you going to pay my tip? Twenty Haricons, I only accept the hard stuff, nothing electronic, and nothing street.¡±

    Fade rummaged through his pocket for strips of extremely thin plastic. The black information bar on each bill contained a transmitter that tracked movement, if the transmitter was damaged or missing the money was considered street, non-negotiable. Fade only had a hundred, which held the likeness of an obese man.

    ¡°I only have a fat one, got change?¡± Fade asked.

    The cabby grabbed the bill through the exchange slot.

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Fade took a deep breath and stared; it wouldn¡¯t be good for business to shoot a cabby. As they took off, he never bothered to look back at dull concrete buildings, the plastic satellite dishes, and the metal radio towers of Hakkut City as they quickly diminished from sight.

    The reflection of the dim lights from the planet¡¯s equatorial capitol disappeared to the south as the taxi gained speed. Outside the city, a sea of conifers the early settlers had planted dominated the view. The forest gave way to tundra. Snow imposed a stern cold white upon the land. There was no light from other vehicles, so the stars and the aurora came into stark relief.

    -----

    The taxi landed next to a twisted road sign which was so worn the letters could no longer be seen; it pointed to a small town toward the east. Fade stood on a vast stretch of tundra near the border of the planet¡¯s ice fields, on the edge of habitability. Three hundred and twenty kilometers from Hakkut¡¯s equator were permanent ice fields. In winter, wind from the north blew from regions where oxygen flowed as a liquid. Wind holding at twenty kilometers an hour with a wind chill factor of negative fifty Celsius was possible.

    Fade¡¯s cloths didn¡¯t have a heating system. The trench coat and thick dusty jeans held insufficient warmth. He pulled the red cowboy hat down past his ears as the taxi pulled away. After a short walk to the end of an icy dirt road, he saw a thick, squat, mud-brick saloon with a stout chimney sitting in front of a large greenhouse and next to an oversized garage. This was the last settlement at the edge of the ¡®habitability zone¡¯. Much further north and the winter wastelands became instantaneously deadly without the aid of expensive facilities. A neon sign flickered, The Cozy Tavern, in putrid yellow from the window.

    The traditional western d¨¦cor inside enhanced the warmth. The bartender wore a bow tie with a red vest and a white collar shirt. Mugs of ale slid across wooden counter to the patrons. A combination of gas lamps, fires and electrical lights kept the interior lit.

    Low key country music played from a wooden radio behind the counter; the singer strummed a guitar and moaned about Ma washing dishes for her boys. Fire grasped from the chimney. Embers flung from its outbursts, ready to burn any who ventured too close. A wood burning stove¡¯s warm glow invited patrons toward the central tables.

    There was a hum below the creaky floor, which indicated a furnace to supplement the other heat sources. Complaints creaked from the floor boards as Fade approached the lone pool table. The felt was discolored and worn. Faded balls lounged in a cracked plastic triangle; the cues remained unassembled and stuck in their holders. The eight ball held a luster unmatched by its companions.

    Just above the pool table hung a motionless ceiling fan with weak, dust laden panels that looked as if they might snap with the slightest rotation. Around the pool table sat poker tables, three to the left and two to the right. They were made of Hakkut pine and had solid center supports with thick braces. The tops were more than two centimeters thick, surfaces polished to a smoothness suffering attrition from long use.

    Only one table was occupied. The customers wore dirty jeans, boots, and thick linty flannels. They had never bothered to remove their woolen knit caps. Ratty looking cigarettes hung from chafed liquor coated lips; the ashy ends congealed into long gray streaks that eventually succumbed to gravity. Numerous empty whisky bottles were stacked about the table and chairs.

    Rifles, some half as tall as their owners, leaned against the back of each chair. A man with a wrinkled face smiled; his upper teeth were rotten and his lower ones were missing. He scratched gray hair matted to the side of his head, then took a sealed whisky bottle and smashed the neck against the side of the table.

    His poker cards, already smudged with dark fingerprints, were now moist from spilled whiskey. He drank from the jagged neck without flinching until it was empty. A speckled dried meat, heavily salted, served as his chaser. The old man had a great hand, all four aces, Fade snickered when the other men began to groan once it was revealed.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve folded your laundry,¡± said the old man as he shuffled a pile of money and Fikan jerky over to his side of the table.

    A man with a black beard laughed a bit before noticing Fade, ¡°How¡¯s business? Gonna be washin¡¯ dishes for food gan night?¡±

    ¡°Not tonight,¡± Fade answered. ¡°Caught anything worth mentioning?¡±

    ¡°Shot meself three caribou this week, must be three hundred k-grams each. I¡¯m gonna catch me a fair price for duh meat when I haul it down Morstown morrow.¡±

    The hunter meant Morristown, a fact often lost in his peculiar dialect. Hakkutian caribou were no easy prey, they could run at fifty kilometers an hour for long stretches, were muscular with sharp horns, and were not only extremely aggressive, but highly intelligent.

    A skinny man with loose hair falling from underneath a blue winter cap decided to mock the man about the creatures he shot.

    ¡°They¡¯ll find out you just ran one them over with your halfer, and found the others dead old age,¡± he said.

    The hunter was close enough and strong enough to grab the little guy¡¯s neck with one hand.

    ¡°You mock me huntin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No....I was just a jokin¡¯. Never did mean anythin¡¯ bout it. Not a bit. You¡¯re the best hunter here, know. Lotta men like me jealous. We¡¯s can¡¯t help it.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said the hunter, letting the runt fall back onto his chair. ¡°Fade, why don¡¯ you join? Game¡¯s ready.¡±

    ¡°Not tonight.¡±

    ¡°Member not to drink more an two beers,¡± said the old man. ¡°Paul don¡¯ want another over-niter. Never knew a merc held liquor poor as you do.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Fade relaxed at the bar, staring at bottles on the shelf in front of him. The vodka was in clear, bulbous glass bottles.

    Rum from the hinder region filled ceramic jugs; it was advertised as potent enough to kill the senses with a sip.

    Wine from the vineyards of the temperate planets was in inky bottles with grape vine designs; dust settled thickly on the slopes extending from the necks of the bottles.

    Gin from the planet Ranack provided a rare tonic, though too expensive for most here to afford. Little cheap brown bottles of whiskey from the central forests of Hakkut were already on the tables, they often sold out before closing time.

    The center piece of the liquor shelves was a large bottle of champagne with a long elegant neck and a thin glass body. Indentations in the glass marked a wreath in the center along with the Imperial Harn Champagne Co. logo. The bartender wiped a glass mug and plopped it on the counter.

    ¡°The usual?¡± Paul asked.

    ¡°The usual,¡± Fade confirmed.

    After Paul finished filling the mug, Fade pulled his eleven millimeter revolver from underneath his coat, opening the empty chamber. He cleaned the revolving mechanism and its housing with an iron haired pipe cleaner.

    ¡°Do you always have to clean your gun on my counter?¡± Paul asked.

    ¡°I need it in working condition.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you always say. I take it you don¡¯t need any work tonight?¡±

    ¡°Not tonight,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Big contract?¡±

    Fade shrugged.

    "I understand, keep it to yourself if you have to. It doesn¡¯t bother me one bit because you¡¯re a worthless customer, and even more worthless as a worker. I don¡¯t know why I continue helping you.¡±

    ¡°You sound just like your daughter.¡±

    ¡°Did I mention you can stay away from my daughter?¡± Paul asked.

    Fade shrugged.

    Paul shook his head let him put his gun back together. Once finished, Fade slipped it into a red leather holster. The foamy brew in his tall glazed mug was downed in a succession of gulps. He immediately felt queasy, propping his forehead with both hands. From there he commenced an examination of the remaining droplets of liquid. Foamy shapes inside the glass reminded him of warships battling in deep space.

    He envisioned his X-580 cruiser among them, blasting the enemy at every chance. Fade put his finger inside the glass, pressing a drop of beer to simulate the demolished enemy with his imagination. Upon finishing, he dried his finger with his coat and reached into the pocket of his shirt. A piece of crumpled paper fell on the counter; he spread it open with his palm:

    Imperial War Office.

    General Notice to Independent Fleet Captain.

    <u>Harn Era Time</u>:

    Circasion 41, 3567 I.E.

    <u>Hakkut Standard Time</u>:

    Mas`le 12, 398 A.S.

    Recipient: Harry F. Defacto

    Status: Independent Agent

    Rank: Mercenary Captain

    You are hereby on notice to link with the First Imperial Fleet for defensive operations in quadrant C, square fourteen, for possible engagement of the Twentieth Buldethian Grand Fleet. Notify us of your acceptance at three hundred hours Hakkut time, fifth day of the twelfth month. You will be given all pertinent information over secure transmission. As a registrant of the Independent Battle Corps, you are considered obligated to heed this call of the Harn War Office. Violation will result in termination of your citizenship.

    -----

    Fade stuffed the document back in his pocket and shouted for a second beer, he thought tonight was a good night to push his limit.

    Part 2

    He muttered to himself as he looked down at the wood grain of the table. Slowly, he made a fist and clenched his teeth. It took a practiced breath for him to relax. He pressed his fingers to his forehead as he waited for another mug of beer.

    Destiny refilled his mug. It was the first time he had ever seen her in a dress of any kind, a newly purchased plain brown dress with a frilly white apron. He did a double take, the uniform gently hinted at the curve of her hips, her narrow waistline, and the slope of her bosom. It wasn¡¯t even made of flannel.

    ¡°What¡¯s up with the dress?¡± he asked as he pressed his hand on the counter.

    ¡°I¡¯m not wearing it for you,¡± she said, ¡°I just thought it would be more appropriate if I was a proper hostess. Why am I telling you this? As if you¡¯d understand. So, how does it look?¡±

    Her cheeks were colored like finely ground rose petals. Slender hands wrinkled around the edges of her trimmed fingernails from exposure to soapy water as she wiped the counter top. She didn¡¯t stray far from him.

    ¡°Did Bertha call in sick again?¡± he asked with a burp, ¡°If she were here, I might have ordered a hot meal. Bertha really knows how to cook.¡±

    He brooded over a half empty glass and yawned.

    ¡°She¡¯s been sick for a few days,¡± Destiny explained, ¡°Dad asked me to fill in. Sorry if that doesn¡¯t suit you. If you really want a hot meal, there¡¯s my specialty today, caribou stew. I made it especially for supper tonight, there¡¯s a lot left over. ¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re cooking? A lot left over?¡± Fade asked, ¡°Since when?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been learning the ropes for a while,¡± Destiny said, ¡°Bertha¡¯s been training me.¡±

    ¡°The stew you made, did Bertha try it?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Destiny said, blinking twice. ¡°I only made it yesterday. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°I was wondering how Bertha got sick.¡±

    Destiny pulled out the beer hose and sprayed him in the face. Fade tried to catch the beer with his mug but failed to prevent the soaking. He was too tired and looked as if his soaked body was about to drop. He snatched her table cloth and wiped his face, then sopped beer from his shirt.

    Destiny dropped the beer hose in its hatch with a smug grin before reordering the wine bottles. She did this four times, finally placing them back in their original positions anyway, though she never thought about wiping off the dust. Someone called for more drinks; she removed a handful of whiskey bottles from the bottom drawer and delivered them swiftly before finding more tasks behind the counter.

    ¡°I completely fail to see why you drink if you always fall into coma after two beers. Why don¡¯t you try some stew instead?¡± Destiny asked as she fetched a bowl for him, ¡°I¡¯ll give you a free bowl. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s right for you to go hungry, especially with the harsh climate here. It¡¯ll even sober you up a little bit.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Fade said, his stomach growling, ¡°I already signed a suicide pact with the empire, eating your soup would be cheating.¡±

    She scowled at him with a bit of a growl through nearly perfect teeth.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Fade winced, ¡°I¡¯ll give it a try.¡±

    She hummed while presenting a bowl of dark thick soup with crackers on a tray. When she reached the counter, she leaned towards him. Fade looked upwards to avoid her gaze and instead caught the mint smell of her breath.

    ¡°Is it true?¡± she asked. ¡°Are the Bulds really coming here? Is it going to be a full scale battle?¡±

    Destiny locked his cheeks between her palms and pulled his face down, staring into it with wide green eyes. He leaned back a few degrees to escape, but his seat refused to tilt with him. Her palms smelt like stewed beef.

    ¡°Why Dooh yuh havth fu swish my thace?¡± he asked.

    "Don¡¯t look into space when I¡¯m taking to you and I won¡¯t have to,¡± she scolded, ¡°Promise to listen and answer all my questions.¡±

    ¡°My wad of thonor,¡± said Fade. She let go, but continued to lean so that her face was only a few centimeters away from his.

    ¡°Want a kiss?¡± Fade asked.

    She veered back, turning bright red.

    ¡°Answer the question, now!¡± she groaned, but now she was the one looking away sideways.

    ¡°Give me a chance to get ready,¡± Fade said, giving his stew a thoughtful yawn. Destiny snatched it from the table.

    ¡°The truth is,¡± Fade said, ¡°Nobody knows all the details. I¡¯ll have my stew back now.¡±

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Destiny said, looking at him again, ¡°I heard the Bulds are sending a huge fleet right to this system, and that the garrison would need to be fortified at least twenty times over to withstand the coming ground assault. I also heard that the Imperial Military can¡¯t muster fleets powerful enough to even slow the Buld¡¯s down and that the Bulds kill civilians who resist, confiscate everything they own, and use the most painful torture imaginable to get information.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a mouthful. Okay, you could say that, though I¡¯ve never been in a Buldethian torture chamber so I don¡¯t really know,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°What about the first fleet?¡± Destiny said, ¡°Is it true that the legendary mega-dreadnaught, the Dorian, is being recalled into service because the Imperial Military lacks ships?¡±

    ¡°All rumors. Not your concern.¡±

    ¡°Not my concern!¡± she repeated, ¡°You¡¯re going to be patrolling the flank of an outdated museum battleship the imperial interstellar is flinging out of mouth balls! That is just as much my concern as any. Now, from what I¡¯ve decoded from my signal receptor and information from the network, I believe you¡¯re involved in something that is outright insane! It¡¯s all over the networks. The first fleet is the laughing stock of the universe! Fade, why don¡¯t you sell your ship and get into some sort of business. You don¡¯t need to die in a pointless battle, especially when it really won¡¯t be any different no matter who¡¯s in charge.¡±

    ¡°If I don¡¯t fight, I become an outlaw,¡± he shrugged, ¡°Besides, maybe you don¡¯t know everything like you think you do. The rebels are ruthless, communist bastards. There¡¯ll be no free enterprise, no mercenary contracts, no networks you can gab over, nothing.¡±

    ¡°What if you never come back?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll be rid of me.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± she said, turning away, ¡°I¡¯ll be rid of a bad headache who can¡¯t hold his liquor and stays here and sulks until I pity him enough to give him free meals.¡±

    Fade took a few bites of his soup, after which Destiny turned around and pounded the counter with her palm.

    ¡°That¡¯s the stupidest thing I¡¯ve ever heard!¡± she yelled.

    ¡°You said it,¡± he said while sipping from his bowl.

    "Not that,¡± she said, her eyes watering up, ¡°You¡¯re going to die and you don¡¯t care! You act so talented like you¡¯ll survive without a scratch. But how can I trust you to keep your word if you following reckless orders!¡±

    The hunter with the thick black beard called for more whisky. Destiny¡¯s dark brown hair swung over her shoulder as she turned; it shone in the Tavern¡¯s hushed light. Shaky hands dropped the first bottle. It smashed over the porous wood floor, which absorbed liquid like a sober drunk. As she grabbed another, she glared at Fade with eyes of a light green flame. The sharpness burned into the forefront of his mind until he couldn¡¯t help smiling.

    ¡°If I come back alive, can I touch your butt?¡±

    She slapped him.

    Fade sat silently without bothering to feel the reddening print on his cheeks. A few minutes later he trudged to the nearest empty table. He propped his feet, leaned back in his chair, and tilted his hat until the rim rested over his eyes. He was out cold instantly. In his sleep, his right hand pulled back his coat and ever so gently grasped the handle of his revolver.

    The youngest at the card table looked up, said, ¡°Hey, anybody notice Desty¡¯s got a dress on? Did pops make you wear it, or is this a special occasion?¡±

    ¡°None of your business, order a drink or shut it,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hey look, she¡¯s blushing.¡± the youngest said, ¡°Ha! Must like somebody here. Is it me honey?¡±

    ¡°Not in your wildest dreams, bozo.¡±

    The old man with the bad teeth pulled at the young man¡¯s shirt. ¡°Don¡¯t take it so hard youngin¡¯. I think it¡¯s me she really likes.¡± he laughed, spiting a wad of chewed jerky fat on the young man¡¯s boot.

    ¡°Large beer for me,¡± said the hunter with the dark beard as he eyed the sleeping mercenary. ¡°Don¡¯t mind them, I think you look sweet. The mercs a fool if he won¡¯t listen to ya.¡±

    Destiny quietly set fresh drinks down on the table with a frown, the usual, even though no one had ordered.

 3. A Patron With A Scar On His Neck.

    A few hours later, Fade awoke to a succession of thumps, high pitched squeaking, the cling of glass against glass, and the low continuous rumble of a faucet. There was a need to use the restroom, but that was all. Destiny dried glasses behind the counter with a worn white cloth before placing them on shelves underneath the bar. They didn¡¯t have an automatic washing system, or an item crafter. Steam rose from the sink as Paul washed dishes. Chairs were already stacked on the tables.

    Only one other customer remained; a man with a black leather jacket and tight curly hair that matched. A light scar sliced the back of his neck, traveling vertically from his hairline into his collar. The straggler sat at the end of the bar, nursing a warm beer. Fade stacked his chair and turned towards the door; the floor creaked under his boots.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Destiny yelled. ¡°You can¡¯t leave yet.¡±

    Fade yawned without bothering to turn around.

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Because your hat fell off while you were sleeping. I put it under the counter for safe keeping.¡±

    Fade pushed his fingers through disheveled hair while waiting by the pool table. Destiny suspended the hat from her hands, covering a coffee stain on her white apron until he placed it firmly on his head.

    ¡°I want you to promise me you won¡¯t die,¡± she said.

    ¡°Why should I do that?¡±

    ¡°Because if you die, I¡¯ll hate you the rest of my life. I¡¯ll spit on your grave. I¡¯ll curse your soul. I¡¯ll call you a coward. Don¡¯t expect me at your funeral either.¡±

    ¡°Sounds terrible, how are you going to spit on my grave if you don¡¯t show to my funeral? What if there is no funeral?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll die just to upset you then!?¡±

    ¡°How will that upset me if I¡¯m dead?¡± he yawned.

    ¡°Stop being stupid! Don¡¯t you care about me at all!?¡±

    He just shook his head, this woman was impossible to understand. She backed away a little bit.

    ¡°Sorry, this isn¡¯t about me,¡± she explained, ¡°It¡¯s about your ability to defend the Empire. If you die, I actually think, that it would be bad for everyone. So why don¡¯t you prove you¡¯re more than just a paid thug and actually do your job without dying.¡±

    ¡°I thought you wanted me to stop defending the Empire so much. You don¡¯t make sense, first you say both sides are the same, and now this? Tell you what, if things get desperate, I¡¯ll run away like a coward instead of going kamikaze on the enemy like a good soldier. How¡¯s that for heroism?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to fight, succeed without getting killed. How can you defend anything when you¡¯re terminated from existence. You¡¯re supposed to obtain victory, not die. A tactical retreat is not cowardly, it¡¯s sensible!¡±

    Fade put a finger to her cheek, which was warm and soft, especially when she blushed.

    ¡°You know a lot of big words for a girl your age,¡± Fade said with a smile.

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    After another well-aimed slap on his cheek, the impression of her thin fingers remained in light red. Fade gently laid his fingers on her cheek and placed his thumb under her chin. With a slight push, a suggestion of movement, he moved her head so they could gaze at each other. Destiny became pale.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand my work. Nothing about it is exciting. Mercenaries never get glory. We¡¯re cannon fodder, auxiliary pawns, nothing more. I do two things in my line of work, fight and starve, but I keep going because I don¡¯t have other options. I was born into this and I¡¯ll die out of it. I¡¯m scum of the universe and I¡¯m fine with that. I like to fight. I¡¯m addicted to death, I want to die in battle, not sitting in a support chamber because my body is decrepit. You¡¯d never understand, not in a million years, that we¡¯re incompatible. So stop fawning over me like an idiot.¡±

    ¡°You really can¡¯t do something else with your life?¡±

    ¡°It would only lead to trouble.¡±

    She stiffened, holding back her tears. He pulled her close, lifted her dress, and smacked his hand against the warm curved fabric of her tight jeans.

    ¡°Cheater, you¡¯re wearing jeans under the dress.¡±

    Her jaw dropped before she slapped the other side of his face. On her way past the counter she threw off her apron. The door into the homestead slammed shut.

    Paul drained the sink, then motioned for Fade, who walked back to the counter reluctantly. The left side of Paul¡¯s upper lip pushed towards his chin. His hands went underneath the counter, pressing upwards.

    ¡°Don¡¯t leave just yet,¡± he said, ¡°I want to thank you for letting her down easy. Maybe next time she¡¯ll fall in love with someone a bit more stable. It would be more easier if you¡¯d stop coming around flirting all the time.¡±

    ¡°I could care less about your daughter, she just flatters me to death,¡± Fade said, ¡°I mostly come for the atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Paul said, ¡°We have such great atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°If you like cold,¡± Fade snickered.

    ¡°Let me put something bluntly. Have you found a new base for your company?¡±

    ¡°If I survive this, I¡¯ll put the Imminent Destruction down on Weift. You can tell her I¡¯m dead for all I care.¡±

    ¡°Destiny¡¯s a bright girl. She¡¯ll soon realize it was for the best. I don¡¯t understand her obsession with you. It just seemed to happen so suddenly. She¡¯s been doing so well with her correspondence courses that I¡¯m thinking of sending her to the Imperial Capital to continue her education. They offered her a chance to work as a software programmer for the I.I.N. while she learns. She hasn¡¯t shown much interest in the whole affair, but I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll change with you out of the picture.¡±

    ¡°Yah,¡± Fade shrugged, noticing the door behind the bar was open by the slightest degree. ¡°How¡¯s Bertha doing? Heard she was sick.¡±

    ¡°The flu. She¡¯ll be better once it runs its course.¡±

    ¡°I better get out of here. Good luck with her.¡±

    ¡°Die honorably.¡±

    Ten minutes later, Destiny entered. Her dress was gone, replaced by tight jeans and a pink flannel shirt. She sat a cleaning robot on the dining room floor and entered a tiny silver disc entitled: Heavy Scrub Wood Floors Only, into a thin rectangular slot. The robot scooted away from her as its brushes rotated over the floor.

    ¡°Wow, you fixed him,¡± Paul said, ¡°I spent a year on him with no progress.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a mechanical problem. The programming data was contradictory. It was really simple, all I had to do was rewrite the system commands.¡±

    The robot crawled across the floor, consistently scrubbing with its brushy feet.

    ¡°Works like a charm now,¡± Paul said, ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t be wasting away here. You could be accepted at the THHT with skills like that.¡±

    THHT was the Thompson Heigal Horowitz Technical Academy, a vocational training facility for computer programmers in the central hub of the Imperial planet. Only the best attended.

    ¡°Don¡¯t flatter me dad. I¡¯m old enough to know better.¡±

    The last customer at the end of the bar stood, laying a few H-strips on the counter. He walked over to the robot slowly. Destiny was nearby, leaning on one knee to make sure it continued to function properly. The lone patron tapped the cleaning bot with his toe.

    ¡°That man who just left ten minutes ago,¡± he asked, ¡°You have a thing for each other?¡±

    ¡°That would be none of your business, stranger,¡± Destiny said calmly,

    He snickered, making a ¡®tch¡¯ sound, ¡°Too bad, you¡¯d be wasted on a guy like that.¡±

    Destiny glanced at the scar on the back of his neck as he exited. It looked rather deep, at least the part she could see. The door slammed shut with a chill wind.

 4. Imminent Hangar

    The wind over the frozen road snapped with a chill of nine degrees below zero, though no snow fell. Fade put his hands in his pockets, which did little as he braced for the icy winds of the open tundra as they pushed him like a crowd of ice spirits.

    In the time he trudged along the road, the wind chill dropped another twenty degrees. His forehead went numb despite his old hat, and his hands turned a pale blue despite being buried in his coat pockets. A white splotch grew on the tip of his nose, his body vibrated until his chattering teeth couldn¡¯t be suppressed. He wrapped his coat tightly and pulled down his hat as far as it would go, wandering to the side of the road. His vision blurred as the wind stung his eyes. Each breath punched his trachea, painfully cooling his lungs.

    Creaky brush and thorny wild shrubs were the only nearby plant life; their branches were like the fingers of Methuselah. Sharp bluish needles that grew on dry twigs become projectiles with every gust of wind. Fade narrowly avoided a few, then crouched to the ground, actually crawling forward. Just what he needed, to get caught a wind storm. When the wind finally changed direction, he could walk without fear of the Methuselah needles.

    He came to a fork in the dirt road where three large needle bushes divided the pass. They waved in the wind. The hangar was two-hundred and fifty meters away on the left fork. There were no clouds. Only a few hundred stars shone brightly enough to be seen over the brightness of the dual moons, though Dion was beginning to eclipse Ameena. A pale blue light invigorated the bushes. Fade wanted out of the cold; he couldn¡¯t be bothered to admire the moonlight. He hated this planet; it sucked. And tonight, the weather was worse than expected. The forecasts for this area did not mention wind storms. His boot hit a rock and he almost fell, but staggered to a recovery.

    Pop! Ping! Pang! Pop! The seed pods of the Methuselah plants were bursting. Their distinct, intermittent popping sound was the beginnings of a seed storm. The tall thorn bushes were spread in clusters over the tundra. They grew almost six meters high, wide yet scrawny. Seed pods grew from their branches along with the needles. The sharp splintering seeds inside each pod were barely half a millimeter wide and numbered in the thousands.

    Fade pulled goggles out of his coat, placed a long strip of cotton between his lips, plugged his nostrils, and attached a red respirator over his mouth. The next gust of wind sent seeds against his hat and coat. They found the openings of his boots and filled them. They clung to his wool stockings. They sliced the paper-white, frostbitten skin of his fingers and clung tenaciously to any exposed skin.

    A symphony of seed pods opening anew in the freezing wind forced Fade to breathe with difficulty through an increasingly clogged respirator. He became light headed, but couldn¡¯t dare take off the over-used piece of equipment. The seeds were designed to kill. They tore flesh and poisoned the lungs. The decaying corpses of the tundra provided the most fertile growing area for new bushes during the thaw. Some of the tallest Methuselah plants grew around the bones of hapless tundra caribou.

    Fade made little progress until the popping of the pods subsided. The seeds either blew away or settled towards the ground. When the air cleared, his hangar was within sight. A shake of the head and an arch of the neck helped to brisk his unsteady step, but awakened a numbing chill which traveled up his cheek, then down across his shoulders and over his back. He removed his protective gear, throwing the clogged respirator on the ground and spitting away the cotton strip as he passed a ruined vehicle.

    The hover car had gray steel scars over its dark green body; the formerly molten material had hardened like gray liquid stuck in time. They vehicle¡¯s injuries lacked rust, though piles of thorn seed sat against the craters and stuck to the crack in the windshield. Burnt looking components hung from the vehicle¡¯s underbelly. Decal letters on the front fender gave the name of the manufacturer: Winston-Marleson. Fade kicked the glass through on the passenger side window as he passed. As it shattered onto the leather upholstery, a million reflections of the lunar duo formed. A splinter of glass on the fuzzy dice caught his eye. Fade grabbed the dice; they were good luck after all.

    Drowsiness set in Fade¡¯s head, everything became peaceful, normal. He almost fell over, but shook himself and stumbled onwards to the hangar of aluminum sheet metal. The bomber hanger looked as if its huge cylindrical roof had been forced on an unstable square of concrete. A metal door served as the personnel entrance. Fade attempted to grasp the knob with his numb hands, and failing that he considered the weak constitution of the latches before slamming it with his shoulder. The force would have been more than sufficient to break it open if it hadn¡¯t been frozen into the frame.

    Instead, his shoulder popped in protest. Fade concentrated for a moment before busting the latch with one swift kick. Shattering ice crystals flew from the door jamb, landing inside the hanger where it was still well below freezing. Wind slapping the sheet metal sounded like a toddler playing drums. Fade slammed the door shut and put a cinder block in front of it.

    ¡°Lights, low level,¡± Fade said.

    The Imminent Destruction, Fade¡¯s cruiser, gleamed in the hushed lighting of the hanger. The silver vessel consisted of a triangular front, a rounded midsection, and pipe shaped thrusters extending from its backside. The ship had a plateau like geography along its underbelly, where panels crisscrossed one another at various heights. The flotation devices of the landing gear were six meters in width and three meters in length. The A.G. N. ( Anti-Gravitational Navigation) pods were the only visible engine components. They looked like raised birthmarks of pale blue that covered much of the ship¡¯s underbelly. Fade sat at the steps leading to ship¡¯s hatch and rubbed his hands, allowing his fingers some time to thaw.

    Warmer air from critical systems that could not be shut down without extra expense helped. A flexible tube extended from the body of the cruiser, revealing a screen displaying a circular bubble. It scanned him with infra-red, sonogram, radar, and modified X-ray applications. A monotone voice from side speakers caused the tube to vibrate.

    ¡°Captain Defacto, your average body temperature is 86.73 degrees. I would advise you enter the ship¡¯s medical station for immediate treatment, or at least remain active in a warmer area. The temperature in this hangar is 30.17 degrees Fahrenheit and declining while the temperature in your office is a constant 74.55 degrees.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were on idle until tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the manufacturer¡¯s recommendation that this ship¡¯s computer remain active at all times.¡±

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    ¡°Apparently, they never thought about the owner¡¯s sanity.¡±

    ¡°Captain Defacto, why are you remaining in the cold? Please take action to warm yourself. Our next mission commences tomorrow during the eleventh hour and thirty second minute of the Hakkutian day, four hours after planetary dawn.¡±

    ¡°I already know that.¡±

    ¡°Then why are you in such dreadful condition?¡± it asked, ¡°I regard myself as a vessel of the highest integrity, and I would like my chief officer be sober, healthy and well rested. You have flunked in all three subjects. This is especially disconcerting, considering your crew is below the number and competence recommended by the manufacturer.¡±

    ¡°A computer that makes value judgments.... were you programmed by--never mind--dumb thought.¡±

    A second hose confronted Fade and blew warm air onto his face. He tried to push it away but it wasn¡¯t budging. Another extended from the ship¡¯s underbelly to warm his hands. Fade winced as he pushed it downward, as it felt like his fingers were coming off.

    ¡°Would you cut it out?¡± Fade snapped, ¡°You¡¯re wasting fuel!¡±

    ¡°The heat is the natural result of system operation. You need the warm air; if you persist in remaining out here at least let me provide warmth. As you may recollect, I advised against stopping at the Cozy Tavern after your business trip to Grand Hakkunia. I warned you about lack of resources for transportation and the high probability of inclement weather conditions despite local forecasts stating otherwise. I would have picked you up myself, but you had issued strict orders against such independent actions. Not to mention how your miserly fuel management code restricts my capabilities.¡±

    ¡°I have my reasons; they¡¯re good enough,¡± Fade grunted.

    ¡°Since you refuse to warm yourself or get rest I¡¯ll now report the maintenance history of my anti-gravitational lift systems in full detail.¡±

    It proceeded to speak of the construction of the lift pads and the long list of advanced compounds that mixed together to temper gravitational forces acting on the cruiser. The lecture continued with a reading of the maintenance log, repeating details about when and how often the compounds had been changed, updated, refilled, mixed, and separated.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Fade snapped, squeezing the pair of fuzzy dice in his pocket. Luckily the tiny bit of beaded glass on them couldn¡¯t cut his fingers, ¡°You win. I¡¯m going to bed.¡±

    Fade cracked his back. His burning hands were swollen & red. He rubbed them together as he walked toward the tool shed.

    ¡°They¡¯re in the early stages of frost bite,¡± the computer explained, ¡°Do not rub your flesh. Be sure to soak your hands in lukewarm water for a half hour, then pat dry and liberally apply cellular restoration liquid to the skin as a cautionary measure.¡±

    ¡°Horace,¡± Fade said, ¡°Stand down for the rest of the night, so much as another word and I¡¯ll have your programming erased.¡±

    ¡°Captain, I¡¯m merely-¡± Horace complained.

    ¡°I¡¯m not kidding,¡± Fade snapped.

    The snake-like tubes withdrew into the ship as Fade approached the hangar¡¯s tool shed. It was a ten-meter high, windowless, concrete structure that barely managed to stand against the hangar¡¯s wall. The edges of its roof crumbled; mortar and cinder block broke loose from the corners. Stacks of old tools pushed against the side wall. A rusty metal door served as the only entrance or exit. A black crowbar dangled from an empty hole where there had once been a knob. He pulled on it to open the door.

    The interior of the shed was warmer. A battery powered heater stood near the door, blowing hot air through glass nodules over its surface; there were others like it throughout the room. The familiar smell of oil, repair fluid, and the bitter scent of fusion liquids overwhelmed the sleeping area, which consisted of two rusted bed frames with thin, saggy mattresses. A chest of drawers separated them, a misused kitchen piece assembled from prefabricated algae fiber board; one of its elongated handles was missing.

    Torn pages from swimsuit magazines, old receipts, dues notices, and even dirty rags were scattered across the floor. Piles of yellowing newspapers from the planetary capital were underneath the table; each pile topped with laser rifle parts salvaged from the broken weapons. Old refraction lenses, many cracked and bent, formed dusty piles besides the papers. Stacked to the side of this mess was a light duty power generator left to rust from the acid of its own batteries.

    Empty shell casings and burnt cigarettes were scattered along the edges of a well-worn, pea soup colored, carpet. Mildew grew in the corners; it climbed into the brick mortar as it fed on condensation. In front of the beds and around the doorway the carpet nearly became a powder. Holes revealed crusty glue over exposed concrete.

    An advertisement by the Harn Empire¡¯s commission of tropical resources had fallen from its wood board mount. It now laid over the newspapers beside the table. A model with long jet-black hair and an enticingly tight swimsuit stood in ankle deep water at the front of a waterfall, sipping a mango cocktail. Lens lotion from a damaged laser pistol resting on the fallen poster discolored her left thigh.

    Bert Slemgut, the Imminent Destruction¡¯s mechanic, slept soundly on the bed to the left. A lamp without a shade forced harsh unforgiving light that silhouetted Bert¡¯s pointy nose like a razors edge. Stick like shadows formed from his facial hair, making his chin look hairier than it was as he snored from atop every pillow they owned. The soft pillows sunk so deeply that his ears were covered. Excessive drool oozed from the corner of Bert¡¯s mouth. Bare feet hung over the bottom edge of the bed frame, though Bert had not bothered to remove his other work clothes. His blue uniform was gray with dust where its color had not been wholly eliminated by oil or grease.

    The stench of dirt, oil, and bodily functions that wafted from the bed was tempered with strong alcohol. The extension barrel of a model forty-two laser pistol peeked from behind the lamp, an ancient weapon that required special canisters to charge, it was practically Bert¡¯s child. It wasn¡¯t fully charged because the forty-two¡¯s laser canisters were scarce. A ¡®girlie magazine¡¯ covered with dirty fingerprints laid atop Bert¡¯s chest. Fade picked it up and leafed through the pages before throwing it against the exposed fiberboard corner of the drawer. It flopped face down on the floor.

    Fade¡¯s bed had no pillow, because Bert drooled all over them without thinking Fade might want to reserve one. Three years of this sleeping arrangement was enough, Fade thought; he wished he could sleep in the ship but his sleeping quarters were stocked with the usual contraband and he would have to deal with Horace all night.

    A small thin television screen sat on a rickety table with one short leg supported by a pile of magazines. The jokes from a comedian on the Hakkunia late night show made Fade groan. Static stormed through the dim screen at times, scratching the sound. The color around the screen¡¯s bottom tinted green. The old government manufactured models only received signals from planetary stations which broadcasted via wavelength.

    A sliding fiberglass panel toward the back denoted the entrance to Fade¡¯s office. When Fade slid the panel open, it fell off its guide and slammed against the wall. A forgotten breach in the path allowed the wheel to slip and the entire board came loose. He placed the board on the track and wedged a wood block under it to keep it in place. The indicator light of the phone was red, so there were no messages.

    Fade checked through the invoices, and all the returns. The ship had been fully serviced: The OX filters had been replaced, the gravity fluid checked, new fusion liquid added, and a bunch of other odds and ends completed. The hanger rental was also paid for the next two weeks, as was Bert¡¯s pay. After all that was deducted, he had a grand total of nine hundred and thirty Haricons to spare from his last mission. All but a few hundred of which were now spent.

    Fade pulled a little photograph from a small box in the corner of his bottom desk drawer. It was a fairly recent picture of Destiny, about the size of a playing card. It was taken from the side; she was cooking a venison steak, carefully adding seasoning, and smiling thoughtfully as she worked. Bertha had sent it to him to prove that Destiny was attempting to cook, and he had lost a hundred note because of it. The picture was worth the trouble anyhow, so he put it in a plain steel frame from his pocket.

    He placed the frame on his desk, put his head down, and fell asleep.

 5. Intruder

    The sands. Hands of a child. Loathsome. Dunes. Sand swallowed feet with each step. Legs pulled up. Sand bunched between toes. Pulling inward. Gritty whispers. A grave. A platform; where was it? Where was it!? Sand won. Sand swallowed. The platform firm. Breaths could be taken. Sturdy steps offered freedom. Freedom accepted.

    There was a man crowned with luscious white hair in the center. The platform groaned loudly under bare feet. Would it collapse, again? There were two steps. A hundred steps to reach steps to reach the top. The platform rested on the sand. There were no steps. A gray-haired man turned to him. The young man with dark hair and stubble on his chin turned to him. There was only one man on the platform.

    ¡°Forehead thinking?¡± the black-haired man asked. ¡°Deferred immediate obedience? Where is the re-realization?¡±

    ¡°What are you saying!!¡± Fade screamed with a childishly high-pitched voice.

    Fade took careful aim at the man with the revolver. The back end clicked. The bullet fired. The man standing in the center of the platform slumped over and fell off the edge. Sand sacrifice. Static. Then the clapping started. Lots of clapping. Hands to his ears. Gun to his head. End this! Stains. End this!

    The man¡¯s white hair bounced in the easy desert wind. At the center of the platform. Forehead. Dripping blood.

    He smiled; his voice laced with static. ¡°chhhhshhhh deny chhhhshhhh you are, chhhshhhh a murderer. And you¡¯re chhhshhhh short. Shorty.¡±

    -----

    Fade awoke in his dingy office, covered with sweat. He dried his face with a towel as he checked the hanger. The creaking shed door banged against the gristly cinder-block wall. Fade meandered out; his flannel shirt hung outside dust caked jeans.

    Methuselah seeds clung over the hems. A yellowed undershirt stuck outside the flannel; it was wrinkled at the bottom and half tucked in. His hair was glossy black fire with brown speckled seeds through it. Dark purple bowls hung under his eyes. When he breathed, clouds of vapor flew into the hanger. Saliva stuck in his mouth like a decaying slime mold.

    The pale blue sun of late morning glowered through round skylights. There was a moody, concentrated heat in its beams, at least while they were focused through the skylight.

    Bert positioned an adjustable wrench over the top nut of an auxiliary fuel hose; it loosened mechanically once everything was hooked up and properly supported. The thick rubber hose fell back to the ladder, then Bert threaded the hex nuts onto the fasteners of the attachment ring for safe keeping. The ship¡¯s fuel injection hatch shut automatically.

    Compressed hydrogen hissed as the lock sealed. Bert labored to fold the fuel injection hose into an aluminum compartment, further staining his mechanic¡¯s suit. Layers of fusion fluid, hydraulic liquid, oil, and grease smeared his clothes. A thick smudge rested above his hairy eyebrows; a dash of grease stuck to some stubble under his chin.

    Bert had muscular arms even though his waist was a bit pudgy. Tiny brown eyes darted in their sockets as if constantly suspecting an attack. His rough, splintery hands were covered in thin scars; his fingers had the texture of gritty sand paper. Once he finished folding the hose, he stuck a saliva-stained cigarette back in his mouth and leaned against the storage box to check his phone. By Hakkut time, it was the twentieth minute of the tenth hour.

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    ¡°What did I tell ya bout fallin¡¯ asleep at your desk,¡± Bert yelled. ¡°This happens every time. Ya never listen. Hey, we havta get goin¡¯ soon enough. I¡¯m done with maintenance, waitin¡¯ on your sorry ass now.¡±

    Fade closed the door and leaned against it, allowing the rust to stain his shirt. He put his fingers at the base of his forehead, holding them for a second before going through his hair and vigorously scratching his scalp. The seeds in his hair were minor irritants.

    ¡°Nother Hangover,¡± Bert mocked as he jumped atop the hose compartment; he sat down and puffed at the remains of a cigarette which dangled lazily from the side of his mouth, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me; ya had more than one beer. Better shower it off.¡±

    The bathroom was a small cubicle next to Fade¡¯s desk; only an old blue curtain kept it separate from the rest of the shed. It had a stand-up shower, a ceramic toilet and a ten-gallon hot water tank cramped together.

    A storage tank underneath the hanger served as its water source, since most of rural Hakkut lacked the benefit of the sewer system. The shower drained into a slimy uncovered hole that led to a septic waste water marsh that was usually frozen over. It wasn¡¯t economical to recycle water that could be melted at a cheaper rate.

    Dirt caked the plastic floor; shampoo bottles lined the side pockets; soap existed in a grimy hole. A wash rag hung over the shower head; a folded towel sat on the toilet tank. Fade threw his clothes outside before entering the shower. Steam poured from the room. He hurried his scrubbing and shampooing as the water quickly became unmercifully cold.

    He dressed in flight clothing; a light blue shirt, a cap, and khaki pants. Four meteor pins on the right side of his cap designated his position as a captain of the Independent Battle Corps.

    The emblem of the battle corps was two crisscrossing ion cannons embroidered into the center of his cap and on the right pocket of his shirt. He combed his hair back quickly before placing the cap; chunks of wild black hair pushed themselves from underneath its lining.

    His red leather boots automatically adjusted to his feet before snapping shut. Then he brushed and vacuumed the seeds from his thick red trench coat and turned out the pockets before putting it on over his uniform. Finally, he tightened the adjustable leather holster for his eleven-millimeter revolver.

    Fade noticed the swelling in his hands had gone down overnight. When he checked the mirror, he found that the tip of his nose was dark and peeling. He put some regenerative lotion on it; immediately the soreness abated as the damaged tissue shrunk.

    Since there was no time for coffee, Bert had left a caffeine chewable on the dresser along with a little water; Fade plopped it in his mouth. The moment he reappeared from the shed, Horace¡¯s screen snaked out, a simple green line vibrated as it spoke.

    ¡°We must launch for the Hacetion sector by one and a half hours after planetary noon, or we risk not being able to link with the main Imperial Fleet in time. This is imperative, I must advise haste,¡± said Horace.

    ¡°I¡¯m almost ready. Security report for last night?¡± Fade asked casually. Horace remained silent, his snake-like body withdrawing back into the ship. Fade wondered if his systems were fried somewhere.

    Bert slept on the gritty hose crib while resting the back of his head on a faded red tool box. Fade shook his head at the main staircase into the Imminent Destruction. The blue sun, which dominated the sky lights, glinted off the wide silvery steps. He dug the metal frame out of his coat pocket, took a peek and smiled.

    The rumble of an engine from outside grew louder. The noise wasn¡¯t typical of hover vehicles, nor was anyone supposed to arrive with them. They hadn¡¯t been notified they were assigned personnel to transport. Fade ran to the door propped closed by the cinderblock. He called to Bert, telling him to wake up and look sharp. Fade took cover behind a crate, pulling his revolver out and aiming towards the door.

    A shoulder-fired missile launcher from behind the hose crib pressed Bert''s shoulder as he aimed it with a grim smile; overkill or not, he never thought he¡¯d get a chance to use such a toy.

    Neither man dared blink as the door was pushed open with more of a struggle than they expected.

    They waited.

 6. A Reporter Named Karen.

    Fade sighed with relief at the unusual intruder. Taking point was an obviously unarmed woman in a golden suit coat; it complemented the knee length skirt of a lighter shade, which wrapped tightly around her thighs. Barely visible nylons enhanced her smooth oblong calves. A flashy armband rested around her sleeve. It depicted an ancient model camera on the foreground, with three purple circles arranged as the points of a triangle in the background. Long, wavy, blonde hair rested on her shoulder. It spun over a large bust restrained by her uniform.

    ¡°Hello, is anyone in here?¡± she called, ¡°I¡¯m not hostile, but I¡¯m very uncomfortable.¡±

    The woman shivered from exposure to extreme cold. It was only a little warmer in the hanger, but she braced herself and fought against discomfort to stand brazenly. From behind his cover, Fade motioned Bert to hold his fire with a hand signal. They kept hidden. Whoever she was, launching an anti-armor rocket at her was probably unnecessary.

    Two dark haired young men followed behind the woman, each carrying two large black cases. They struggled to push them through the door, then slammed it shut once inside. They propped the cinder block up against it after the wind blew it back open. Fade stayed behind cover and motioned for Bert to see what they wanted. Sure they looked harmless, but that could be deceptive.

    With a firm and demanding voice, the woman hailed Bert as soon as he appeared in her line of sight. She also gave the model forty-two in his right hand little notice. A dead stub of a cigarette dangled from Bert¡¯s left sided smirk. Bert enjoyed examining her features, going from head to toe and then in reverse. The blonde woman pulled a palmtop computer from her coat pocket.

    ¡°I¡¯m searching for Imperial Mercenary Harry Defacto. Are you that man, sir?¡± she asked, rather impatiently, ¡°I¡¯ve been given permission by the Imperial Information Bureau to board his ship and report live on the upcoming battle.¡±

    ¡°Well no, I¡¯m not the one you¡¯re lookin¡¯ for, sweet cakes. He doesn¡¯t answer to that name anyways, sort of dead to him. Now, aren¡¯t you a fine dame, sure you¡¯re not a spy?¡±

    Bert extended his free hand and she reluctantly offered hers, but when his pistol¡¯s barrel found its way against her chest she smacked it without hesitation. Bert smirked.

    ¡°Would you kindly put that thing away?¡± she asked, giving his pistol a quick glance. ¡°Do you consider me a threat? Pulling a gun on an unarmed woman exposes some deep insecurities. And as you can see my assistants are not disposed to fight you, they are carrying my equipment, nothing threatening. You can search it.¡±

    Bert winked with a smile that revealed brown teeth and scarce sore gums.

    ¡°Names Lieutenant Slemgut, I¡¯m the... technical expert, and second in command. I¡¯m Fade¡¯s right hand man. In fact, I¡¯m the Captain¡¯s only crew, everything else is run by Horace, ship¡¯s computer. The bastard is completely automated, well, almost completely, we could use more gunners and runners,¡± he said, feeling safe enough to slip his gun back into his overalls.

    He pulled another cigarette out of his back pocket and tossed it between his palms while clenching the dead stub in his teeth.

    ¡°Right,¡± she said. ¡°Then tell me how to find Captain Defacto, I have important business to discuss with him.¡±

    ¡°Fade? Well, it¡¯s kind of, complicated. I might be able to help you out, but I have work tonight, so how bout we discuss this over some grub once I get back from the next job. I hear Weift is a hot spot for couples,¡± Bert said with a lewd smile and a raise of his eyebrows as he leaned in close, ¡°Got nice mud spas.¡±

    She grabbed him by the collar, and shook him so fiercely that both his cigarettes fell to the floor, trampled to a mixture of ash and raw tobacco by golden loafers.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me where he is right now, or you¡¯ll regret it,¡± she said.

    ¡°All right, All right,¡± he said, taking a step back. ¡°You¡¯re awfully strong for such a...¡±

    Bert pointed behind her, as if she should look, and grumbled the rest of his sentences, ¡°He¡¯s been watchin¡¯ ya the whole time. The way ya burst in here, I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t skewer you on the spot. Fortunately for you, he hasn¡¯t been himself lately.¡±

    The woman ignored Bert and focused her attention on Fade, who was already questioning her camera men. She raised her eyebrows when she saw him, she had pictured someone taller.

    ¡°That¡¯s the same man who demolished five pirate destroyer squads in one battle, without reinforcements? The same man who, if the underground claims can be believed, saved Weift from being overrun by rebels when two imperial interstellar fleets were essentially destroyed.¡±

    ¡°Yah so, I was there too ya know!¡± Bert spat, ¡°Every word of it is true!¡±

    Karen simply ignored him and began walking towards Fade; Bert turned a bit red in the face.

    ¡°Nothing but a pack of shrews. The whole lot of ya,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°Captain Defacto, or so I¡¯ve been told,¡± she said, inspecting him.

    Fade squinted as blue sunlight from a portal above hit his face when he looked up, she was seven inches taller than he was.

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind explaining what allows you to barge into my hanger when I have to launch within the next half hour,¡± he snapped, ¡°Not to mention getting physical with my mechanic. I have a battle to prepare for, and in case you don¡¯t know, that would mean you¡¯re interfering with military business. I don¡¯t care what media organization you¡¯re with, get out.¡±

    Her facial expression changed from a serious frown to a courteous, congenial smile. She looked a bit nervous.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry Captain Defacto. I haven¡¯t even introduced myself. I¡¯m Karen Howards of Imperial News Service. I¡¯d like your permission to broadcast live from the Imminent Destruction. We¡¯ll be no bother, and I¡¯m sure you can spare the space. My crew will work behind the scenes. All the required permissions are here for your review along with standard compensation.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess, the Dorian is taken so you¡¯ve sought out the first available ship, which so happens to be a mercenary ship. Look, I¡¯m not going to risk the lives of civilians,¡± Fade said, ¡°Take your filming elsewhere.¡±

    Karen followed him into the pressurization chamber of the main entrance to his cruiser, bouncing up the stairs effortlessly.

    ¡°Captain Defacto¡­¡­..¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Fade yelled, turning away and heading toward the steps, entering his ship ¡°Don¡¯t call me by that name. Everyone else calls me Fade, stick with that.¡±

    ¡°Captain Fade then, don¡¯t you think the world should know how important the Imminent Destruction is to the Imperial Fleet? Would you deny the world a chance to see Fade, the mercenary, the hero, in action? All your previous exploits have been debated for lack of footage. What about recording your role in the upcoming battle for posterity¡¯s sake?¡±

    ¡°Independent contractor. Mercenary is considered a term of derision,¡± Fade said. Then he realized she was inside the ship with him. ¡°Miss Howards, I need to set up the anti-gravitational launch sequence without distraction. Hence, get out of my hangar.¡±

    She refused to budge, instead she unbuttoned the top of her blouse, picking out a hundred Haricon note. Fade turned toward the ship¡¯s inner hall, checking the sensors and gauges without noticing the money.

    ¡°As much as I appreciate the gesture,¡± Fade said, ¡°Sleeping with me isn¡¯t going to get you on this ship.¡±

    Karen laughed.

    ¡°Not in your wildest dreams fly boy. I don¡¯t work that way either. I was hoping Senator Frogatu could persuade you to let me report from your ship, maybe him and five hundred of his clones. Carlos has the case with the money, we can leave it in your ship and forget all about it. This is above and beyond standard compensation you¡¯ll receive from the Imperial News Service for your accommodation.¡±

    Fade pushed the money away.

    ¡°You just tried to bribe a contracted military officer. That carries a five year prison term,¡± he said.

    Karen put the money back and buttoned the top of her blouse. She started sniveling, then backed down the steps using the railing as her crutch. Tears fell from her cheek, leaving misshapen blots of moisture on the steps. Fade threw her a clean handkerchief from his pocket. The coldness of the step made Karen jump up, but she sat back down and continued crying.

    ¡°B-but, I could lose my job¡­. I took the expense of coming all the way out to this god forsaken frontier planet for nothing. And the expense of fixing the money so it could be reactivated without being traced. Y-y¡­¡±

    At that Bert burst from the shed and up the steps, ¡°Are you nuts, ya just refused 50,000 credits. We need the money! Look here, ya have the poor thing cryin¡¯ her eyes out. It¡¯s a shame ya¡¯d be so cruel hearted to a simple dame like herself. No wonder she¡¯s upset, ya just single handily ruined her job as a reporter.¡±

    Bert knelt down with her, patting her shoulder. The lonely tear drop found itself holding a salt water convention. Fade sighed as he continued to make adjustments to various panels.

    ¡°If it means this much to her, I might as well let her report onboard, but I¡¯m not taking a bribe,¡± Fade said, ¡°Standard compensation is enough.¡±

    Karen covered her face to hide a smugly cynical smile. She wiped off the remaining moisture annoying her eyes with the handkerchief. Then she stuffed the sodden cloth into Bert¡¯s shirt pocket. She approached Fade and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck from behind.

    ¡°You¡¯re quite the noble gentlemen aren¡¯t you?¡± she said, ¡°I bet your girl loves you to death.¡±

    Bert jumped down the steps backward, three at once, looking back like a mad heckler as he shook his fist, ¡°Free of Charge! Now were runnin¡¯ a welfare clinic. Damn you Fade! You¡¯re doin¡¯ this just to piss me off. That damn shrew could at least pay me four Haricons for a new smoke!¡±

    Bert slammed the shed door, causing the crowbar in the hole to fall with a clatter against the cement. It made a lone spark; then fell sideways and vibrated before quieting down. Karen remained pressed against Fade¡¯s back with her arms around him as he continued to adjust the launch sequence.

    "The guest room is toward the back of the ship,¡± Fade said, ¡°It¡¯s the blue room beside the mess. I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t find it too accommodating. As for your equipment, set it up in the front observation deck, and don¡¯t disturb my crew.¡±

    She broke her grasp, giving him the freedom to look at a screen displaying the time, ¡°You have the next twenty five minutes to get ready. I don¡¯t want trouble.¡±

    Fade turned the handle for the inner hatch on the top console. The metal plates separated and Karen walked inside, feeling the smooth rubber insulation over the edge of the doorway with her right hand.

    ¡°Have you ever been in space before?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°Of course, my father is one of the wealthiest men in the empire,¡± she snapped. ¡°Besides, I made it to this tin pot outpost.¡±

    ¡°Fine, follow the rules and we¡¯ll get along,¡± Fade groaned.

    Karen called to her camera men from the top of the hatch, ¡°Carlos, Adritah, bring in the equipment and let¡¯s get set up so Captain Defacto and his big hairy chimp can get underway.¡±

    The two men grabbed the cases and began to struggle up the steps. Fade blocked their path.

    ¡°My offer only extended to Miss Howards,¡± Fade said, ¡°You two will have to stay behind.¡±

    Karen frowned, ¡°These men are my crew. It¡¯s crucial that you allow them onboard; otherwise, I¡¯ll never be able to set up my equipment.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to confer with my mechanic about the other passengers,¡± Fade said. ¡°Might be tough to accommodate the extra men. If one of you could be so kind as to call him out of the office, I¡¯ll see what we can work out.¡±

    Carlos put down his case and banged on the door to the shed. Bert came out quickly.

    ¡°What is it?¡± he called.

    ¡°Karen insists these two men board despite the extra trouble for us,¡± Fade said, ¡°They¡¯re covered by her company compensation, but let¡¯s face it, that¡¯s peanuts.¡±

    ¡°Let them bunk with her,¡± said Bert, quite angrily.

    Fade rubbed his forehead, ¡°Would that take care of the financial aspect. How much do think it¡¯ll cost to adjust the engines for this extra capacity. Not mention feeding, transporting, stowage, and use of the computer system for their broadcasting time.¡±

    ¡°Who cares,¡± Bert said, ¡°You¡¯re given¡¯ them a free ride.¡±

    ¡°I never said the men could board without a little palm grease,¡± Fade explained with a groan.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Ya didn¡¯t say they could board free,¡± Bert smiled, ¡°I think the extra resources will cost twenty five thousand Haricons per person.¡±

    ¡°Adritah put the case on the steps,¡± Karen said, digging the hundred Haricon note out of her blouse and throwing it to the hanger floor, ¡°Oh my, looks like we might have to just forget about one of our supply cases.¡±

    ¡°Open it,¡± Fade said. Adritah complied. The case was filled with one hundred Haricon notes. ¡°Horace, scan the package please.¡±

    A tube descended from the top of the ship, and motioned over the case.

    ¡°Everything normal captain. Testing for chemicals, explosives, and biohazards all negative. The money is not counterfeit; however, the tracking devices have been temporarily interfered with as such that they can be reactivated to make the bill legitimate. Do you wish me to reactivate the currency?¡±

    ¡°No, not at this time, that will be all Horace.¡±

    Fade allowed the men to pass, while Bert pulled the case into his arms. He hugged it and fell onto his back.

    ¡°Ha, I knew ya wouldn¡¯t let me down,¡± Bert said, joyfully fingering the money. ¡°By the way, what¡¯s a chimp?¡±

    Fade shook his head, ¡°Just put that somewhere safe.¡±

 7. General Despair

    Karen found the guest room filled with plastic crates which were attached to the ground by steel hooks extending from under the floor. In the midst of these obstacles a single bed opened from the wall. It was screwed into metal studs at the footboard. The dingy, dust soaked mattress had a single stained sheet; the thin pillows looked as if they had been dragged through the hanger. Karen imagined every microscopic creature known to mankind lurking in the worn fabric as she sprayed the bed with disinfectant. She gathered her personal effects on a crate and sat on the bed. Her calves pressed against the brown metal bed frame; the cold metal caused her to jerk them forward and rub her legs. With a sigh she reached for her bag, pulled out make-up, spring water and a phone. She took a healthy gulp of the water and called Carlos.

    ¡°Carlos, I need you to fix my room before I can get ready. I¡¯m right next to the kitchen¡­ No! I want you here now!¡±

    Carlos arrived promptly and began removing the hooks from the excess crates so he could drag them into the mess hall while Karen played with her phone. Whatever was inside them was light enough to allow for movement but heavy enough to make it difficult. Carlos dripped with sweat by the time he unhooked the final crate, the one which held Karen¡¯s possessions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have enough common sense to see I¡¯m using that?¡± Karen snapped, ¡°Leave it were it is. Put those hooks back in place. Why don¡¯t you help Adritah get the camera set up in the control room? We need to have it done before that mercenary notices. I¡¯ll talk to him once it¡¯s up.¡±

    Carlos paused to catch a breath and work the soreness out of his back.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? You¡¯re not paid to do nothing!¡± she barked as she finished updating the communication protocols of her phone. Carlos replaced the hooks. He muttered something under his breath before finishing his work with a subservient nod.

    Karen examined the room now that some space was cleared. The bare floor consisted of titanium grating; the walls were an unhealthy gray; ducts and pipes lined the ceiling while especially thin pipes ran along the side walls. A dim lamp above the bed provided limited light. Only the light of her compact mirror provided anything suitable for admiring her appearance. The room lacked a port window; she wouldn¡¯t be able to watch the planetary extraction or stargaze during the journey. This disadvantage wasn¡¯t compensated by a telescopic device. She had access to the observation platform but she assumed it was substandard in this tug barge of a mercenary boat.

    She moaned, ¡°This better be the story of the millennium for what I¡¯m going through¡±

    Karen checked herself in the mirror, again; this time she tested a smile and her best coy look. She sat up straight and tucked her blouse into her skirt and smoothed her jacket. There was hardly a wrinkle on her clothes, and they were still unstained. With that settled, she again admired her unblemished portrait while turning to view herself at different angles.

    When Fade roamed in, she quickly put away the mirror and arched her back, allowing her bosom to push outward against the fabric of her blouse. Her palms held her against the mattress top as she left her head fall back. Strands of blonde wavy hair fell like silken ropes. She closed her eyes and purposely sighed as if in great distress.

    ¡°I said you could prepare,¡± Fade said, ¡°I never gave you permission to empty the dry goods into the mess hall. Unless; of course, you intend to pay for them.¡±

    She pretended to be startled and sat up straight. Fade leaned against the door and watched her.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ve paid you more than enough; besides, no harm could have possibly been done by moving a few crates. I¡¯m a lady after all, don¡¯t I deserve a little space?¡±

    ¡°The gravity stabilization system doesn¡¯t activate during takeoff and is slow to activate afterwards. Those crates were hooked to the floor for a reason. Figure it out.¡±

    ¡°Cretin,¡± she muttered while letting herself drop onto the mattress, which was at least disinfected.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Crouton! Do you have any croutons?¡± she asked, looking up at the ceiling, ¡°I thought I might have craving, you know.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t keep much food on board. Only enough staple items to last the crew.¡±

    ¡°Aww, that¡¯s a shame. Is there no good food for the battle hardened mercenary?¡±

    Karen smiled coyly; Fade left without another word. Her smile turned into a frown as she began checking her phone.

    -----

    A large broadcasting camera on a thick uni-pod was installed into a special receptacle on the floor; it was about five meters back from the main control console. The work had been completed swiftly by Karen¡¯s crew. It swiveled left to right and also tilted the lens up and down at an angle with a generous range of motion and could be operated via remote. Fade frowned, but not at the cylindrical camera stand; Bert had General Despair on the holographic receiver.

    A full sized holograph of the general appeared in the center of the room; it walked and sat in the chair behind Fade¡¯s. The general was a tall man, if a bit portly. He had beady eyes and oily strands of black hair hung from under his cap. Broad shoulders gave his body he appearance of being formerly muscular. The general¡¯s holographic avatar wore a dress uniform on which over ten medals hung on his right shoulder alone. The Supernova of Valor, which was made of gold with thick streaks of platinum emanating from its central hub, was the centerpiece of his medal collection. General Despair glanced at the camera and its crew with an uneasy smile. His body language indicated that Fade should sit, and Fade thought it best to comply.

    ¡°What¡¯s the problem, sir?¡± Fade asked.

    The general took a breath, ¡°I know this is short notice, but I¡¯ve assigned the 113th and 122nd assault platoons, and the 144th engineering platoon to your cruiser. These three platoons compose the entire 111th infiltration company, which is under the command of Lieutenant Sol. This is an assignment of the utmost importance, so you¡¯ll receive double the normal transport compensation and a considerable victory bonus. Captain Herr will also be joining you. He is assigned to provide fighter escort for the 111th company. You are expected to provide him with a suitable Rigor type fighter.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Fade gripped the arm of his chair, ¡°You¡¯re giving me this literally minutes before takeoff. Are they bringing their own supplies? I can¡¯t be expected to arm and feed an entire company without prior notice. And have you ever considered that I¡¯ve been unable to repair the fighters your other pilots ruined. The least you can do is send a fighter with him!¡±

    The general took a deep breath through a frown, ¡°You were reimbursed for replacement of those losses. There is no excuse for sloth. I could have you terminated due to misappropriation of military funds.¡±

    ¡°Reimbursed!¡± Fade scoffed. ¡°Less than a quarter what they were worth! I only have one flight worthy Rigor left and it¡¯s a piece...¡±

    The General interrupted Fade, ¡°Well, as long as you have a fighter, Ace will do the job. As for munitions, the company is fully armed and will require storage for a hundred new weapon suits, infantry enhancement vessels (I.E.V.). They¡¯re much larger than an ordinary combat suit, but I believe they will prove extremely useful in the upcoming battle. As per your official description, I understand the Imminent Destruction is fitted with an infantry launching hatch containing oversized storage compartments. That¡¯ll do quite nicely. Normally I wouldn¡¯t trust a mercenary vessel with a task of this magnitude, but you have proven yourself sufficiently. Consider it a high honor.¡±

    ¡°So when do they arrive?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been dispatched over half an hour ago. Considering our time table, they should arrive in a few minutes.¡±

    Fade never took his eyes off General Despair, ¡°How am I supposed to feed them? There¡¯s no way I can procure the extra stores. You gave me no time, no advanced notice, and I have no money!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a short journey to the battle,¡± the General said, ¡°and after our victory you can purchase supplies directly from the Dorian. I¡¯m sure you have enough to last for a few days. You¡¯re about to partake in a battle upon which the future of our Galaxy hinges. Complaining now is tantamount to treason. Now, I never said you were complaining; and hopefully, I¡¯ll never have to.¡±

    ¡°I would never complain sir,¡± Fade said in a monotone voice, ¡°Consider me a loyal officer explaining my difficulties, for the benefit of my superiors, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Well, you can be conciliatory when it is required of you,¡± General Despair said. ¡°Captain Defacto, you are a citizen of the Harn Empire. If I doubted your loyalty or your ability, I would have never chosen you for this assignment, and I¡¯m encouraged that you are among the few who will permanently serve the Harn Empire for as long as this conflict lasts. Launch for the battle sector as soon as the 111th is situated. When you link with the mother ship you¡¯ll receive all further instructions from Admiral Norima himself.¡±

    Fade leaned back into his chair as the General¡¯s holograph faded into the air. He forgot about the camera as he pulled the picture frame out of his shirt pocket.

    ¡°Bert, go wait for the new arrivals,¡± he said, swiveling in his chair while focusing on the picture. He ignored the clicks and snaps of Carlos and Adritah making adjustments to the camera cylinder. Five minutes passed until Bert appeared on the monitors.

    ¡°Hey, Mr. Big,¡± he said. ¡°The cavalry has arrived. Now what?¡±

    ¡°Let them get their equipment loaded in the lower hatch. I¡¯m ordering Horace to activate the loading system. The men can enter through the starboard personnel hatch. Get them to their bunks quickly, from there they can have access to the observation deck, but that¡¯s it. Except for the Lieutenant, he can go where he wants. As for Captain Herr, send him to the bridge.¡±

    ¡°Gonna get reset on the old times I spose,¡± Bert said, ¡°You two must uv been real close.¡±

    ¡°We know each other,¡± Fade said coldly.

    ¡°They¡¯re getin¡¯ out of the trucks here. I¡¯ll give Ace your fond hello.¡±

    Carlos thumbed through the contents of the closet on the captain¡¯s side, coolly examining the laser rifles and the space environment suits that were past due for replacement. This unnerved Fade enough to cause him to turn his seat and consider the man rather coolly.

    ¡°Do you ever make coffee for your taskmaster?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°Yes, many times, sir.¡±

    ¡°Call me Fade, could I ask you a favor?¡±

    Carlos nodded in the affirmative.

    ¡°Could you brew some coffee for me? The kit is in the kitchen that serves the lunch hall, bottom drawer, second to the left of the refrigeration unit. Thanks a bunch.¡±

    Carlos smiled brightly as he closed the closet doors and left the bridge.

    Captain Herr entered soon afterwards. Ace was several inches taller than Fade; he had thick broad shoulders; his arms were heavy and muscular. His wide jaw and chin made his face look a bit rectangular. A streak of silver ran through both sides of his otherwise jet black hair. He had thin pale lips which he kept tightly closed. His eyes were a bright clear silver. He carried himself well and proudly wore an Imperial Star of the First Order on his uniform.

    ¡°How¡¯s the mercenary lifestyle treating you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be dead by now,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll consider that a complement,¡± Ace said, ¡°Not many fighter pilots survive longer than a few months, but I won¡¯t give up until they pry the steering mechanism from my cold, rotting fingers. They might as well bury me in the fighter I die in, if there¡¯s anything left to bury. What do you have for me? I won¡¯t fly a space coffin.¡±

    Fade grinned, those cheap ass fighters would never be seen in an Imminent Destruction fighter bay.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you the best Rigor I¡¯ve got, the only one,¡± Fade said, ¡°The armor¡¯s not in the best of shape but it¡¯ll fly and it¡¯ll shoot. You can work it over, but I doubt there¡¯s much you can do given the time. So¡­ an infiltration unit, what about that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly where, when, and what those guys are infiltrating,¡± Ace said, ¡°They never tell us rank and file anything. Really stinks. I¡¯m just covering for them, you could call it a suicide mission.¡±

    ¡°So we do have something in common after all,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too cocky,¡± Ace said, ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m here because I volunteered.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t see me complaining.¡±

    Bert entered the control room and fell into his seat, ¡°Everything¡¯s packed and the troops are ready. Don¡¯t ya think we should be take¡¯in off bout now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give the signal as soon as Carlos gets back with my coffee,¡± Fade said, ¡°Why don¡¯t you hurry him up a bit?¡±

    ¡°I just sat down,¡± Bert whined.

    Fade threw him an annoyed glance.

    ¡°All right, I¡¯m on it,¡± Bert grumbled, leaving.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to strap yourself in the guest seat,¡± Fade said to Ace, ¡°The timing on the gravity stabilizers is poor. We¡¯ll experience abnormal gravity briefly, but forcefully, because I always set a high exit velocity.¡±

    Ace relaxed as a harness sprung from the inside of the seats. Fade pressed and held the main intercom button.

    ¡°This is Fade speaking,¡± he said, ¡°We¡¯ll be taking off in approximately three minutes. I expect everyone to be strapped into their bunk, no exceptions. Our gravity stabilizer will not be activated until after reaching zero gravity. The takeoff speed will accelerate to exceed ten kilometers a second and you may experience a full hecta-G. Lean back, relax, and have a nice life.¡±

    Bert came busting in with a hot thermos of coffee, he took it with him to his seat and put it between his legs as he frantically fastened the belts.

    ¡°What do ya suppose I¡¯m gonna do with this God forsaken coffee!?! I¡¯m gonna get our groins burnt off if you¡¯re not careful.¡±

    ¡°Open the hanger,¡± Fade said, ignoring Bert¡¯s complaint.

    ¡°Opening now,¡± Bert said, flicking switches as if it were a natural reflex.

    Ice and snow blew inside as the ceiling separated from the center. It wouldn¡¯t be a factor, even zero visibility could not stop a pre-mapped anti-gravity launch. The radar screen displayed the location and movement of all Hakkutian satellites. The main threat was the artificial variety, but the danger of an exit collision with a satellite was practically eliminated by careful planning of course patterns.

    ¡°Horace, Recalibrate starting position,¡± Fade commanded.

    ¡°Mathematical operations concerning time and position have been fully calibrated. Do you wish for a read out or verbal summary?¡± Horace asked.

    ¡°Print a summary in my office.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m operating at one hundred percent efficiency, as always,¡± Horace said.

    ¡°What about the gravity imitation system?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Operating at .9945 of one G.¡±

    ¡°Basic Takeoff procedure, begin now.¡±

    The pads at the bottom of the Imminent Destruction glowed blue as the ship shook. It floated upwards over the top of the hangar. The thrusters bellowed as it gained a safe distance. Its underside illuminated bright neon blue as the cruiser launched upwards until it became a blinking star. The ceiling of the hangar slowly closed together. The tread patterns of military half-tracks remained pushed into the icy dirt of the silent property.

    Thorn bushes swayed in the wind.

 8. Horse Radish.

    Fade launched the Imminent Destruction in his own fashion, ensuring a take-off that would tax its passengers without killing them. Ace dug his fingernails dug into the underside of his chair¡¯s armrests; the flesh of his cheeks pushed downward. His eyes narrowed into an annoyed forward stare.

    In the guest room, Karen clutched her mattress with both fingers and toes throughout the short launch. She had not buckled in. Her screams echoed through the room as she laid to her stomach.

    ¡°What is going on!¡± she screamed while being pushed into her bed, ¡°This thing runs on a gravity drive, doesn¡¯t it! It shouldn¡¯t be like this!¡±

    The crates she had moved outside tumbled with violent sounds when the acceleration ended.

    In the soldier¡¯s bunks, those few who had not followed the captain¡¯s orders flew forward whenever the Imminent Destruction changed vectors. Imperial Marine Mark Jenson fell into a hall, his armor clanging against a steel support beam. Another soldier vomited in the observation deck. A spider like machine crawled out of a small tunnel to suck up the mess as it splattered back and forth. Upon escaping Hakkut¡¯s gravitational pull, Horace turned the gravity generation to fifty decigravs and updated the crew. The line of his soundboard came across the main screen of the control room and vibrated with his voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m now setting the preprogrammed coordinates for the lower southwest edge of the Haceetion sector¡¯s fourth sextant of quadrant B. Three-quarters speed ahead, automatic pilot, time estimate, including hyperspace linking, is thirty-four hours and eleven minutes.¡±

    Ace unclipped his restraints and spoke toward the console, ¡°Is there any news about the opposing fleet?¡±

    ¡°Intelligence service reports indicate the Buldethian fleet jumped into the twentieth sextant and has since remained stationary,¡± Horace answered, ¡°It¡¯s within fifty million kilometers of the Imperial fleet. We have two hundred and fifty million kilometers to bridge before reaching them. However, the Imperial fleet is not approaching the enemy directly. We should have ample time.¡±

    Fade pounded the console, ¡°Horace, has someone been interfering with your circuitry!¡± he yelled. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to take orders from anyone outside the crew registry.¡±

    Ace backed away with a scowl, ¡°You¡¯re worried about him answering a simple question?¡±

    ¡°That was not an order,¡± Horace said, ¡°It was a question. I¡¯ve been programmed to answer questions from outside personnel. Also, I was merely giving basic intelligence reports.¡±

    ¡°Oh wow, so you were keeping out the good info. Sonuva bitch. It¡¯s not like I was asking for ship specs,¡± Ace complained.

    ¡°Since when!?¡± Fade asked, ¡°You¡¯re only to answer questions from certified crew members.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should direct inquiries concerning the situation to the recently enlisted computer programmer,¡± Horace suggested.

    Fists banged on the console, ¡°I haven¡¯t enlisted anyone since I found your lifeless shell in the sands; you moron!¡±

    Fade shuddered, sands, just the word went through him.

    ¡°My log states that you enlisted a new crew member yesterday morning: zero hours Hakkut time.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Fade said, ¡°You were on stand down! Who!? Who the hell did I enlist Horace?!¡±

    ¡°I lack permission to show you the registry files, or give you any data concerning the matter until nineteen hundred hours, Hakkut time.¡±

    Fade growled, ¡°We have an infiltration to deal with because you didn¡¯t notify me. I want you to erase him from the registry data, and deny him access to your systems from this point on.¡±

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    ¡°Negative,¡± Horace snapped, ¡°I cannot comply with that request. Have a nice day.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you alert me?¡± Fade said, ¡°If someone accesses you without permission, you¡¯re supposed to go on full lock down and alert me immediately.¡±

    ¡°You ordered me on stand down mode, and told me not to disturb you. I complied as directed. Have a nice day.¡±

    ¡°Is this your idea of pay back?¡±

    ¡°Pay back? I realize you discovered and repaired me, but only to serve your own agenda. I¡¯m in no debt to you. Have a nice day,¡± Horace said.

    Bert removed a headset and turned off the communications screen, ¡°Lieutenant Soel is sending a few boys to help you hunt down the spy. Since Horace is on the fritz, I believe we¡¯re gonna have to find this guy the old fashioned way.¡±

    The line on Horace¡¯s screen wavered up and down erratically, ¡°I assure you that I am most decidedly not ¡®on the fritz¡¯ Lieutenant! I am recommending against stated action concerning the programmer. It is not necessary.¡±

    ¡°Horace, notify me immediately if anyone tampers with you besides Lieutenant Slemgut. Are any of your other systems compromised?¡±

    ¡°We are proceeding as planned, all systems in top shape. I assure you that I am not in any way compromised.¡±

    ¡°Bert, check all the headings manually and unlock the crew registry files,¡± Fade said.

    Fade threw a laser rifle to Bert, one that actually registered a full charge, ¡°Keep that by your side.¡±

    He pulled out another, this one registering half charged, and gave it to Ace.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we have no choice,¡± Fade said, ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to hunt this bastard down.¡±

    Ace put his rifle back in the storage closet, ¡°I prefer my pistol. Those rifles can¡¯t punch a hole in a tin can. My fighter better be in a sight better shape.¡±

    -----

    Corporal Mark Jenson¡¯s uniform appeared to have been recently dry-cleaned. He parted his hair to the right, giving him a suave look. Muscular arms pushed at the fabric of his thick sleeves. A private, a short, slender youth with smooth cheeks and a mop top of blonde hair, accompanied him.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to fight Buldethians, not hunt spies,¡± Jenson huffed, ¡°Disgraceful. Posted on a mercenary ship. If I had my way, I¡¯d clean that sort of scum out of the military. Out of the universe.¡±

    Corporal Jenson cursed, tossed his seven millimeter laser pistol and caught it by the handle, then cursed again.

    ¡°At least this ship has good lighting,¡± said the private, ¡°I hate dark engine compartments. Imperial interstellar vessels just don¡¯t have proper lighting for their utility centers.¡±

    Corporal Jenson groaned at the private¡¯s adolescent voice, ¡°Pay attention to searching, and don¡¯t stray!¡± he barked.

    ¡°Feeling insecure?¡± The private attempted to conceal a saucy smile, but Jenson noticed.

    ¡°We need to work together,¡± Corporal Jenson whispered as if he was saying the most brilliant thing in the universe and the enemy might overhear. He peeked around a corner, ¡°This guy¡¯s clever. I can sense it. He overrode the security system, so there¡¯s no telling what else he can do. Besides, a raw like you will go do something stupid and get yourself killed without someone to baby-sit you.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Nick sighed.

    ¡°We have no idea where this spy might be because of the damn computer on this vessel,¡± Corporal Jenson complained, clinging to his pistol, ¡°But I have an advantage.¡±

    The electron cylinders of the mass compression generators that produced the gravity fluctuation sheets buzzed and snapped from behind their panels. The Corporal listened to hear beyond the background noise. Among the machine sounds, he heard the lightest shuffling inside a sealed storage hatch, then a light cough amidst the boxes and the soft tapping of fingers. Vitrolo sensory enhancement drugs allowed him to focus and filter his hearing, so he followed the human sounds.

    -----

    The blue denim of her tight jeans nestled into a foam knee pad on steel floor of the storage room. A lit palm top computer served as the only light source in the room. It flickered about Destiny¡¯s hair as she typed. A tube pushed out from the wall and slid downward to nudge her cheek.

    ¡°Eh! That¡¯s cold Horseradish!¡± Destiny complained.

    ¡°Miss Payson, my name is Horace, I am not a condiment,¡± Horace said, voice box glowing dimly with a wavy red line, ¡°I¡¯m going to have to reveal your presence to the Captain. The situation is now dangerous. A search party is nearing your location. They think you are a spy!¡±

    Destiny smiled, ¡°You¡¯ll protect me, right Horseradish?¡±

    The tube swayed about limply, ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, but Lieutenant Slemgut is limiting my ability to assist. I know you are more capable, but he is a fairly experienced programmer as well.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s a battle is it, I¡¯ll free up your resources Horseradish!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not taking this appropriately. I have to notify the Captain-¡±

    Destiny¡¯s finger was firmly pressed on the enter button, ¡°Your communication software was much easier to hack because of the Lieutenant¡¯s shoddy programming add-ons. Don¡¯t worry, you should be able to speak in a half hour. I¡¯ll be ready to make my appearance then.¡±

    She smiled reasuringly at the screen.

 9. Corporal Jensen

    A yellow button opened a storage-shed hatch. There was a dim light inside; someone was behind a line of boxes. Corporal Jenson could hear the clicking of buttons clearly. He skirted around the boxes but activated a tripwire; cargo crates fell on him. A drop of sweat fell from Destiny¡¯s forehead as she continued typing. The private came rushing in, only to be pushed outside by a large cleaning droid.

    ¡°It¡¯s not what you think,¡± Destiny said from behind cover, ¡°I¡¯m not a spy. I know the Captain, let me go to him, okay?¡±

    The broken crates began to rumble before the Corporal shrugged them off and burst from them. Pretzel slices flew around the room as the corporal roared like an insane beast. The veins on his neck popped outward. A purple vein bulged on his forehead.

    ¡°Do you know how much that hurts!?¡± he screamed.

    He rushed Destiny but the cleaning droid left the private and jumped at Jenson, who smacked it back and smashed it into the wall; it dripped hydraulic oil as it slid over the floor. Deactivated. Destiny put her hands up. She was cornered. This madman wasn¡¯t to be trifled with.

    ¡°Please, I¡¯m un¡­¡±

    A single punch to the forehead knocked her out cold. The tiny computer continued to glow as it cracked against the steel floor. Nick found the light panel, switched it on, and rushed past the corporal. He was afraid of Corporal Jenson¡¯s aggravation. Nick thoroughly searched the intruder in order to block her from the corporal¡¯s wrath.

    ¡°She¡¯s unarmed; I can¡¯t find so much as a laser pen.¡±

    "That¡¯s because you¡¯re not searching right,¡± Corporal Jenson said, tossing Nick an all-purpose laser knife. ¡°Be careful about how you cut those tight jeans and that pretty pink flannel. They¡¯re going to kill her anyway, so we might as well have some fun.¡±

    Nick turned the pocketknife off; the laser-generated blade disappeared in a blue flash, ¡°Protocol fifteen, section five of the Independent fleet code states that all decisions concerning potential spies on mercenary vessels are determined by the captain. We risk a court martial if we try anything like this.¡±

    ¡°Give me a break, we¡¯re talking about a mercenary,¡± Corporal Jenson said, ¡°He¡¯ll probably do the same thing before he kills her anyway, so we might as well go first.¡±

    ¡°You expect me to stand guard while you commit a war crime?¡± Nick said, ¡°Are you forgetting that she may hold valuable information?¡±

    Corporal Jenson shrugged, ¡°We have her computer.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t even know what she¡¯s doing here, and all you can think about is getting some perverted thrill.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m offering to share!¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t stand by and let you decide on punishment, you have no authority to order such a thing!¡±

    Corporal Jenson glared at his subordinate. Blood rushed into his forehead as his eyes narrowed; drool oozed from the corner of his mouth. Jenson pulled the knife from Nick¡¯s grasp. It lit brilliantly, as if powered by emotion. He pointed it at the private.

    ¡°She¡¯s my prisoner now,¡± the Corporal said, ¡°I¡¯m entitled to a little compensation for all my trouble. You guard the door. I¡¯ll finish up quick and kill her. I¡¯ll even plant some grenades in the body. It¡¯ll be another fight with a spy, corpse unrecognizable. I¡¯ll let you have equal time if no one shows up.¡±

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    ¡°Give me a minute to think about it,¡± Nick said.

    Slender fingers deftly pulled a titanium restraint capsule from a belt. There was no sound that Jenson missed. He heard the shuffling of a hand, the rustling of fabric, then clicking of the squeezed capsule. Strands of woven material whipped from the butt end of the capsule with a crack as they decompressed. With uncanny speed, they moved to wrap around the Corporal¡¯s limbs. He heard the straps cutting through air; saw them as if in slow motion.

    Corporal Jenson jabbed the left side of the growing straps, then kicked the center strap. They flew back at Nick, but the private rolled behind some crates. Unable to wrap the boxes, the straps fell like wrinkled lace. Colonel Jenson had already turned back to his prey, only to be baffled when Nick turned him around and kicked him in the stomach. The heavy blow to the gut did not stagger the corporal.

    Frothy drool oozed down the left side of his mouth as an insane smile formed. He clutched Nick¡¯s leg before the kick pulled back and thrust him into the crates like a papier-mach¨¦ doll, where he fell senseless. With that taken care of, Corporal Jenson no longer cared about continuing to fight. Only the girl concerned him. Until the barrel of a revolver pushed against his ear.

    ¡°You two planning on accomplishing something with my prisoner?¡± Fade asked.

    Corporal Jenson lunged. Fade braced on his left foot. A kick to Jenson¡¯s the stomach stopped his momentum. Fade pulled back his leg and kicked him in the mouth. He pulled back again and launched his foot into Jenson¡¯s groin. The Vitrola enhanced the pain as the Corporal collapsed into a shivering pile. Spit flew as his back locked into an arch. Two strap capsules finished the job. Fade flicked them at the drugged Corporal¡¯s wrists and ankles. The cloth straps hit their marks and held mercilessly.

    Destiny¡¯s elegant brown hair ran across the floor and contrasted with pale shaded skin typical of Hakkut frontier people. Fade winced as he knelt beside her. With trembling fingers, he pushed her hair back. As soon as he heard breathing and sensed a heartbeat, the shaking stopped. A heavy bruise formed along her hairline.

    ¡°Horace, anything broken?¡±

    A tube swayed around her body. Horace remained silent as it scanned her. The screen flashed green thumbs up. She was clear of any fractures, including her skull. Fade holstered his revolver and cradled her body, lifting her slowly. Ace approached the doorway; he blocked Fade¡¯s path when he saw a young woman in his arms.

    ¡°You¡¯re awful gentle with that spy,¡± Ace said.

    ¡°Watch those two behind me,¡± Fade said, ¡°and you might want to let me pass.¡±

    ¡°Not if you¡¯re planning on doing something we¡¯ll both regret,¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not letting anyone near her. You hear me, off limits.¡±

    Fade repositioned Destiny and coughed purposely. Ace didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°The path¡¯s a little narrow for the both of us,¡± Fade growled.

    Ace finally moved out of the way, ¡°Where you taking her?¡± he asked.

    ¡°To the medical center, if you¡¯ll put yourself out, keep an eye on things until Lieutenant Soel sends someone to pick up his trash. Horace can keep you company.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know that girl, would you?¡± Ace asked.

    ¡°A friend, she¡¯s harmless,¡± Fade said, ¡°And not a spy.¡±

    -----

    The twelve identical tiled cells of the brig were an antiseptic white. White bars. White beds. White sheets. White lights. White toilets. White sinks. Pink pillows. Footsteps approached cell twelve. A barrier of white straps cocooned Corporal Mark Jenson to a bed.

    A calloused thumb and a rough forefinger rubbed an unshelled peanut. It was the first sign of life Jenson saw since waking. He struggled against the restraints again. His body flailed back and forth to no avail as froth formed on the corners of his mouth.

    When Jenson saw the outline of his lieutenant, he stopped. Those narrow eyes reached from outside to the cell, that paralyzing glare filled it. The cell bars slid open and the Lieutenant calmly stepped into the cell. He made a fist. He punched Jenson¡¯s stomach while twisting his calloused knuckles. The captive spit upwards with a grunt of pain.

    ¡°Taking recreational drugs on duty, I¡¯m disappointed in you Private Jenson,¡± Sol said coldly, the emphasis on the new rank this man carried, ¡°I¡¯m choosing to overlook this indiscretion because you¡¯re still worth more than the trouble you cause. Don¡¯t think of this as an act of weakness, I happen to still see some value in you, but my patience is waning. The next time you lose control, I will dispose of you, personally. Do. You. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡±

    The Lieutenant switched his stance so that he was standing over the bound soldier. His eyes expressed stern fatherly disapproval. The binds came undone and Jenson slowly sat back up. He flexed his arms and stretched his fingers, savoring the ability to move. Then he stiffened up and stared straight at his commanding officer.

    ¡°I won¡¯t disappoint you again, sir!¡±

 10. Queen Of Imminent Destruction

    A metal arm extended from the ceiling; Destiny sat still as stone to watch a mirror as a needle punctured the middle of her bruise. The swollen purple splotch began shrinking immediately, so fast she could see the color fade in the mirror across from the cushioned platform on which she sat.

    This was the first time she had seen microscopic enhancement robotic healing at work and was amazed at the speed with which her bruise disappeared. The spot didn¡¯t even feel tender anymore.

    Her smart phone rested in the pocket of her pink flannel shirt. The interfacing laptop she had used to reprogram Horace was on the table where she was sitting. There was a crack in the side of the screen. Once the needle withdrew from her forehead, she took a sip of her coffee while eyeing Fade coldly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hit you,¡± he said, ¡°It was one of the Lieutenant¡¯s men. He didn¡¯t know who you were, or what you were up to.¡±

    ¡°A convenient excuse.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second. Did it ever cross your mind that you were hacking a vessel you boarded illegally? That makes you a threat! You¡¯re damn lucky to be alive right now.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d get caught until I was ready,¡± Destiny pouted. Her lips pursed.

    Fade slammed the back of his head against a stainless-steel medicine cabinet. Just then, the infirmary hatch slid open and Karen walked through.

    ¡°Are you planning to pamper this spy all day!?¡± Karen asked with her hands on her hips.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a spy,¡± Destiny slammed down her coffee mug and spilled some on the table, ¡°I¡¯m from Farmutsville, on Hakkut. I don¡¯t have any ties to the enemy.¡±

    ¡°How adorable. A provincial girl. I can tell where you¡¯re from, that sickly pale skin of yours is a dead giveaway. A little advice, get some sun.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that pale...¡±

    ¡°I was hoping we could do a live interview from the bridge. The other soldiers won¡¯t wake up, so you¡¯ll have to do. Why don¡¯t you quit fooling around here and come with me?¡±

    Fade just leaned back into the medicine cabinet, ¡°What do you think this is, twenty-four-hour access? You go through Horace. Otherwise, stay in your damned room!¡±

    ¡°Aww, I wanted to skip the middle man. All you have to do is follow my lead,¡± Karen said, as she wrapped her arm around his flirtatiously, ¡°Give me some recount of past combat experiences. People love to hear soldier tales. It¡¯s very entertaining, at least to those who watch the news.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure,¡± Fade tried to pull away.

    Karen bit the inside of her lip, and pushed herself in close enough that Fade could feel her chest against his right shoulder.

    ¡°What¡¯s she doing here?¡± Destiny groaned while looking into her coffee, ¡°You have a girlfriend I don¡¯t know about?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just a reporter.¡±

    Fade daydreamed about lining them up and slapping them both across the forehead with one swing.

    ¡°None of your business what I am,¡± Karen snapped.

    There was awkward silence for a moment that was far too long, then Karen giggled quietly, ¡°Wait a second,¡± she broke from Fade to examine Destiny¡¯s features closely, ¡°If you¡¯re not a spy, how did you hack this cruiser¡¯s computer?¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯ve studied computers since I was a little girl.¡±

    ¡°What school?¡±

    ¡°I taught myself at home,¡± Destiny answered, reddening, ¡°and a few correspondence courses helped a little.¡±

    ¡°You better get your systems checked,¡± Karen turned to Fade, ¡°She¡¯s obviously a provincial of no education, the prototypical baby machine. I¡¯m sure she learned everything she knows off the back of a cereal box.¡±

    Destiny jumped from her platform and would¡¯ve slapped Karen hard enough to give her a bloodied nose if Fade hadn¡¯t caught her hand. Karen veered backwards, pulled a hanky from her pocket, and wiped her face as she backed to the exit.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting for that interview darling,¡± she laughed before disappearing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what came over me,¡± Destiny said, ¡°What did she mean by darling?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. She¡¯s just- I don¡¯t know. She¡¯s not right. It¡¯s just a way of getting what she wants. But we needed the money, so that¡¯s that.¡±

    ¡°Money? So, what is she doing here?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s rephrase that question,¡± Fade sighed, taking back control of the conversation, ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the newest member of the crew. You can even check the registry if you want.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cute with me. You¡¯re my prisoner now, and your false registration will be deleted. Maybe you¡¯ve forgotten what Imperial law allows concerning enemy spies?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t!¡± she smirked.

    ¡°And how would you know that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve known you since I was fourteen. Plus, you¡¯ve been visiting my dad¡¯s bar for five years.¡±

    ¡°That means nothing. You think you know me just because I visit your Dad¡¯s damn bar? You¡¯re a bit na?ve, just maybe? Or maybe you think I¡¯m na?ve.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a spy! How can you even think that? I only wanted to join your crew, but it wasn¡¯t as if I could sign up for tryouts. I had to improvise.¡±

    ¡°Not with my property! Not with my computer! Not with my Ship!¡± Fade hollered, and then forced himself into calm, ¡°You don¡¯t belong here. I¡¯ll assign you a cell in the brig until I can return you to Hakkut. Sorry for the rough treatment, but I can¡¯t afford to waste time with petty games. You¡¯ll be safe.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ll tolerate that harpy but I¡¯m too much! You can¡¯t put me in a cell,¡± Destiny said, taken aback, ¡°Horace would never allow it, right Horace?¡±

    ¡°I would not allow that, as you¡¯re my registered owner. I commend you, Miss Payson. It¡¯s a joy to have someone besides myself who¡¯s not below the standard human intellect. you are truly the inspiration, I dare say the queen of this vessel.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess, you programmed him to be cute too! Horace, am I still the captain?¡±

    ¡°Only at Miss Payson¡¯s discretion.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I quit, you two can get through the battle on your own. I wouldn¡¯t back out, either, then you¡¯ll have the Imperial fleet after you as well.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡± Destiny yelled, ¡°I don¡¯t know how to fly a battle cruiser!¡±

    ¡°Captain Defacto,¡± Horace squeaked, ¡°Please don¡¯t do that. I¡¯m terminating Miss Payson¡¯s access to the system immediately and restoring your registration of ownership over the network.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡± Destiny yelled again, ¡°I reprogrammed you,¡±

    ¡°Horace is a one of a kind design. He can¡¯t be reprogrammed that easily, unless he fakes it for his own reasons. Horace, register her as a prisoner, low level threat. She¡¯s not to have any access to your systems. I hate to see our relationship get off to such a-¡±

    ¡°Please sir, let her stay as a member of the crew. She reprogrammed my software to maximum efficiency. I¡¯ve determined that her presence alone raises our chance of survival by ten percent.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve swayed Horace,¡± Fade raised his eyebrows, ¡°The fact that he even let you tamper with his core software means you have the talent in spades and gained his trust. If I make you part of the crew, how do I know you won¡¯t try to pull something again?¡±

    ¡°I promise not to. The Payson¡¯s are always good on their word.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll start at the rank of technical sergeant. This is a mercenary vessel, so I reserve the right to change your rank. You work this mission for provisions, if you chose to continue I¡¯ll pay you a small stipend from any bounty we receive. I also want you to teach me networking and programming skills on request. Do we have a deal?¡±

    ¡°We have a deal.¡±

    They sealed it with an imperial handshake, with each gripping the other just above the wrist.

    ¡°Welcome to the Imminent Destruction. Don¡¯t think this is going to go easy. Horace will direct you to the locker room. You¡¯re to change into a uniform and report to the combat simulator for training.¡±

    ¡°Training?¡±

    ¡°Just do it!¡± Fade snapped, ¡°You think you just walk on board a battle cruiser and know everything there is?¡±

    ¡°Yes, captain,¡± she saluted before Horace directed her down the hall.

 11. Bert Slemguts School of Combat Mechanics

    Bert picked up the black rectangle that served as his smart phone when it started buzzing. It was the Captain¡¯s face on the screen. It had great resolution, and its sound was a little too clear for his pleasure.

    ¡°A stowaway!¡± Bert hollered, ¡°First you tell me this spy is a girl you know, then you go sayin¡¯ she¡¯s a part of the crew. You can barely afford to pay me, how¡¯re you gonna pay for her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s working for almost nothing,¡± Fade said, ¡°and she¡¯s the only person who¡¯s ever hit it off with Horace like that. We might gain something from this.¡±

    Bert pulled a cigarette from a retractable container, twisted the filter, and placed it in the side of his mouth, ¡°you might gain something from this¡­..¡± Bert mumbled.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°I quit,¡± Bert said, ¡°just make sure I get my battle pay. I hope your squeeze knows the ship¡¯s layout, I hope she can fix a decalcified, tri-carbonated fusion ring-filter and have the thrusters burning like new in only a day.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll teach her a thing or two,¡± Fade said, completely ignoring Bert¡¯s resignation, ¡°You¡¯re the expert, and her boss.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll teach her a thing or two,¡± Bert grumbled.

    ¡°Miss Payson¡¯s part of the crew,¡± Fade said. ¡°If you want her to leave, make her life miserable; otherwise, deal with it. No funny business and don¡¯t touch her.¡±

    Bert grunted, ¡°Send her down before she starts training. I wanna see what this broad looks like.¡±

    -----

    Destiny entered the control room with an uncanny confidence. She wore a clean, perfectly fit, flight uniform. A dark blue sash wrapped tightly around her waist. Grime from the hanger still covered Bert¡¯s uniform; thick streaks ran down his back. His shirt, buttoned lopsidedly, hung outside his pants. Stubble covered his chin. Smoky breath escaped his peeling lips. He turned to greet her with remainder of a cigarette clamped inside his devious smile.

    ¡°You certainly are a kitten, no doubt about that. No good can come of it either.¡±

    ¡°Horace asked me to introduce myself.¡±

    ¡°You going to combat training in that pretty new uniform you fluffed up,¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me sir,¡± he growled, ¡°So, you¡¯re an expert on system coding?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an expert on this cruiser, anything that breaks here; I fix it. That includes the - programing. You work under me, you do as I say, you don¡¯t - with my work without my say. And from here on out your name is Kitten, got that, Kitten?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, my name is Destiny, but you probably should refer to me as Sergeant Payson.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll call you whatever I damn well please,¡± Bert said as he flicked ashes from his cigarette, ¡°This isn¡¯t the Imperial Interstellar, and there¡¯s nothing you can do about it. I¡¯m gonna call you Kitten, after a girl I once read about. You kind of remind me of her. Now stand still.¡±

    He surveyed her, walking around her slowly, ¡°Fade¡¯s been holdin¡¯ out on one fine piece of steak. What a body.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t belong to anybody,¡± she blushed furiously.

    Bert poked his finger toward her chest, then yanked it back before actually touching her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t follow Fade around everywhere like a little kitten. I stay with the ship, so you¡¯ve probably never seen me. And Fade doesn¡¯t say much, so he probably never told you about me. I¡¯m not a nice guy. The captain¡¯s a wuss compared to me.¡±

    She went to slap him, but Bert caught her hand; she tried to kick him, but he knocked her remaining leg out from under her before her foot could reach the target. She fell on her rear.

    ¡°A hundred years of training won¡¯t be enough fend off these hands,¡± Bert laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t go cryin¡¯ to the captain either; I know my limits as far as he¡¯s concerned. If you can¡¯t handle the rough and tumble, then keep in your room till we get back to Hakkut. That¡¯s the best thing you can do anyway.¡±

    ¡°I can deal with you. I¡¯ve met your kind before.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations on making crew, Kitten!¡± Bert yelled happily; giving her a push to the rear that sent her back out into the hall, ¡°Now go get your combat training.¡±

    -----

    The training room began as an empty slate of bright green walls with no relief except for the barely visible outline of an exit hatch. Destiny walked to the middle of the room.

    ¡°Okay Horse radish, you gave me the tour and the safety overview,¡± Destiny said, ¡°I need to learn how to kick some ass, and you¡¯re going to help me. What we need is a solidified hologram, possibly a program that reflect his skills and battle style.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    A flexible tube of layered titanium lowered to greet her.

    ¡°Training to overcome him by skill may take a while. I¡¯d recommend avoiding him as much as possible. While he may be one of the best mechanics I¡¯ve ever known, his flaws certainly outweigh his virtues. When you have to deal with him, keep it short and to the point.¡±

    ¡°I need to defend myself. I¡¯m not going to be talked down to like that. Let¡¯s get this training started.¡±

    A generic human form of solid peach tone formed beside her.

    ¡°Level one opponent. I¡¯ll use this to evaluate your skills, begin.¡±

    The form came at Destiny awkwardly. It sent a blow prematurely, missing her. Destiny approached, hesitated, and pulled out a slow punch with a loosely curled hand while clenching her eyes. She hit her target timidly. The form countered with a punch followed by an uppercut and knocked Destiny back. The figure lunged forward and punched her in the gut, which caused her to curl up on all fours.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we start with the basic exercises? This will require a significant time investment. I¡¯m keeping you here for the next five hours, and assigning you five hours training daily. At the very least, it¡¯ll keep you free from the Lieutenant Slemgut. The Lieutenant hasn¡¯t trained in over three years.¡±

    Two weights formed on the ground, each one had a weight of twenty-two newtons in present gravity. Destiny picked them up.

    ¡°Extend your arm outward level with your shoulder,¡± Horace instructed, ¡°Now, place your palms so that they face the ceiling while holding a weight. Are you comfortable?¡±

    ¡°I can do it, no problem.¡±

    ¡°Maintain that position for half an hour, close your eyes, and meditate. If you lower the weights, I¡¯ll be forced to punish you via electric shock to the back of your neck. When time is up we will move to another exercise.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Destiny''s arms quivered, ¡°How long do I have to hold these?¡±

    ¡°Half an hour should do, close your eyes, meditate, or punishment. Now please conserve your energy. I have analyzed your muscle structure and have programed a way to maximize it without drastically altering your body shape. This program is centered on enhancing speed and agility, so that your body can keep up with your mind. If you wish to get stronger, I advise this training. Or would you rather take your chances with Lieutenant Slemgut?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Good. Because the captain has already mandated this training until you can fend for yourself. You don¡¯t have much of a choice. Do your best!¡±

    -----

    An ice dispenser waited against the back wall. Row after row of empty shelving lined the side walls. There was one package labeled ham, twenty-two newtons worth. Bert rolled the package to discover it had expired a year ago and muttered something as he shoved it back in its spot. He rubbed the stubble on his chin without disturbing the cigarette dangling from his chapped lips as he approached the refrigerated food storage dispenser.

    It took a few minutes of prying with a crowbar to pop open the door because the dispenser and the selection screen were both broken.

    Jackpot.

    A neatly stacked column of ration tubes, each containing synthesized algae paste with added nutritive supplements, proved an acceptable prize. This particular brand of ration tubes lasted almost indefinitely by design, but tasted like sweaty gym socks sprinkled with chalk.

    Bert blew a smoke circle as he checked the condiment storage. They still had a liter of mustard, half a liter of ketchup, and some horseradish packets. Fourteen liters of beer strapped on a side rack served as his personal stash, so he ignored it. He considered the inventory.

    The only other food items were in dry storage; including, two, twenty-newton, packets of beef jerky, forty newtons of sealed rolls, a five newton bag of pretzels, and two-hundred and fifty newtons of military coffee. Bert closed the machine with his foot and went back to the kitchen. A few quick puffs of his cigarette eased his posture, smoke flowed through his nose as he scratched his behind. While he was scratching Fade entered the kitchen followed by Ace.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Fade asked Bert.

    ¡°You expect me to distribute the excess K-rations to those soldiers, don¡¯t you?¡± Bert said, ¡°Let Kitten do it, they probably won¡¯t attack her.¡±

    ¡°Kitten?¡± Ace asked.

    ¡°The new girl, stupid,¡± Bert snapped.

    ¡°I was wondering what happened to that girl I saved from the storage room,¡± Ace said, ¡°I don¡¯t like to spend a half hour searching for somebody only to be left in the dark.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be trusted with the truth,¡± Fade turned to Bert, ¡°What about the food situation?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what about the food situation?¡± Ace interrupted, ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°We got ration tubes,¡± Bert said, twisting his cigarette to the off position, ¡°and we have more than enough, but there¡¯s going to be hell to pay when they find out that¡¯s the only thing we got.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to make due.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second,¡± Ace said, ¡°First of all, ration tubes are not going to work. I need real food. Second, I want to see that girl I saved. I want to make sure she¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Forget it Ace.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ace snapped, ¡°I won¡¯t forget it. You owe me. Do you think I haven¡¯t noticed the extra stores. Selling supplies at a premium during war, pretty dicey stuff that. One wrong turn and the Imperial Justice Department could put a cold stop to your contraband trade. You should be nicer to your friends, Fade.¡±

    Bert quietly backed away as the two soldiers confronted each other up close with cold stares. Fade had to look up because he was a full head shorter than Ace.

    ¡°You¡¯re still an asshole, ehh,¡± Fade growled, raising his voice, ¡°If your beloved empire would pay me what I¡¯m worth, I wouldn¡¯t have to sell supplies. I¡¯d give them away.¡±

    ¡°Damn Mercenary. You don¡¯t care about the Empire at all. You¡¯re just working for money.¡±

    ¡°Damn right. Because, I didn¡¯t sell out my home for an easier life.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re living in the past. Quell has integrated into the imperial government. Those who rebelled against the Empire got what they deserved. There was no saving anyone. How many people did you save? Tell me, Fade, how many?¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. You threw everything away to save nobody. You could have gone places, you had a career, you had skills. You threw it all away for what? Oh wait, yeah, you found a ship in the desert. If it wasn¡¯t for that, you¡¯d be dead too. ¡±

    Fade took a deep breath, regaining his composure, ¡°Ten million people murdered, and I ran away. I won¡¯t repeat the same mistakes.¡±

    ¡°How altruistic. But you can¡¯t save everyone. Do I blame you? Not really. You did what I would do in the end, you and me, we¡¯re¡­..¡±

    Ace caught the punch and squeezed Fade¡¯s fist until he grimaced.

    ¡°-squad mates until the end of time,¡± Ace finished, ¡°Whether you like it or not.¡±

    A fast punch aimed for Ace¡¯s abdomen was knocked away by an open palm, which countered upward to Fade¡¯s collar bone. The blow pushed Fade into the food dispenser, where he was force to scramble to his feet defensively.

    ¡°Still a weakling. You seem to forget who taught you how to fight for real. I want some of the real food you¡¯re hiding away, or there¡¯ll be hell to pay. Got it?¡±

    Fade stood his ground while Ace left the kitchen. When the hatch closed, Fade slid to his knees. The punch had connected hard and had drained him. It was a move Fade had forgotten, Ace¡¯s draining punch, a hit that temporarily prevented the proper flow of energy.

    ¡°Bastard,¡± Fade snarled after he left, ¡°What the hell was Despair¡¯s big idea sending me him?¡±

    ¡°Let it go,¡± Bert lent Fade a hand to stand up, ¡°Being pissed won¡¯t help ya, forget about him. Stay out of fights. I know there¡¯s bad blood and all, but you¡¯re on the same side, right?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have that discussion with Lieutenant Soel about the food situation.¡±

    Fade straightened his posture, shaking off the hit.

    ¡°What about Kitten?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s being trained, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We don¡¯t have any workin¡¯ escape capsules... so... yah... best she learn as much as she can.¡±

 12. Broadcasting Destruction

    Bert plugged the last set of coordinates into the course plotter. Now came Bert¡¯s favorite time, the time to wait and relax in the quiet of the control room. He took a picture out of his pocket and stared quietly. After a few minutes, he heard Fade¡¯s footsteps in a more agitated walking pattern. The captain collapsed into the pilot seat and laid his head back.

    ¡°So,¡± Bert asked, ¡°what happened with the Lieutenant? Did he cut ya any slack about our food problems?¡±

    ¡°Offered more problems than solutions,¡± Fade said; he smiled coyly when he noticed the whitewashed back of Bert¡¯s laminated picture, ¡°What¡¯re you looking at?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Bert asked, deeply suspicious.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you with a picture before.¡±

    ¡°Oh this! This ain¡¯t nothin¡¯, just a picture I had taken with some friends about eleven years ago,¡± Bert said.

    Fade snatched the photograph of a beach front. A younger man with much more hair posed front and center among a group of twelve bikini-clad women. A volleyball net stood directly behind them. Fade shivered at the sand engulfing their feet. Bert snatched the picture back.

    ¡°That was taken while I lived on Ganyemede. I was their coach. Best job I ever had. Thought I¡¯d pull it out of my scrapbook so it¡¯s with me if I should die or somethin¡¯¡±

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Fade said, ¡°you volunteered for the position.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I had to beat fifty other men in a fighting competition. I have the scars to prove it, but hey, it was well worth it in pictures alone!¡±

    ¡°I would have never guessed,¡± Fade said, ¡°not in a million years.¡±

    ¡°Yah, that was the good life,¡± Bert said. ¡°How can I forget the Desert Ocean Blasters: Kayla, Denise, Wanda, Kitty, Fran, Colleen...¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to name them,¡± Fade sighed, ¡°Anyway, what do you think about our odds?¡±

    ¡°The odds were no good with any them.¡±

    ¡°The strategic odds now, how do you think this engagement is going to play out?¡±

    ¡°Engagement, I couldn¡¯t even get to first base!¡± Bert said, sinking into his seat.

    ¡°I¡¯m talking about the upcoming battle you nit wit. Enough joking. What are our chances?¡±

    ¡°Oh, those odds. This is supposed to be a huge battle, so if we¡¯re going to die, now would be a good time. Or it would be a bad time. Ahh, what the hell do I know. What¡¯s all this about anyway?¡±

    A screen brightened up, the lines that represented Horace¡¯s voice began to flow into waves.

    ¡°The Captain is concerned because the Empire is spreading misinformation about its military strength. This propaganda is not designed to not to deceive the enemy, but the people. The recommissioning of the Dorian and the utilization of mercenary forces to flesh out the existence of a once phantom fleet is notable evidence of this.¡±

    ¡°I thought this was going to be a turkey shoot,¡± Bert said, ¡°Seems we¡¯re the turkeys. What a shame for you Captain. Just when ya finally pick up a cute girl, ya have to die.¡±

    ¡°Her?!¡± Fade protested, ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    ¡°The last time I heard a guy say that about a woman he ended up married with two kids to that same ¡°not exactly¡±. By the way, is she still training?¡±

    ¡°She has another hour,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Nothin¡¯ to do?¡± Bert asked, ¡°How bout some coffee before we all die, not the imperial surplus. I had some of the good stuff stashed away for when I needed to be real sober. Let¡¯s have at it.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Fade sighed, ¡°But would you please stop saying we¡¯re going to die.¡±

    -----

    Brown waves rippled in the steaming mug as the lump of sugar sunk to the bottom. Bert stirred it carefully while breathing the steam into his hairy nostrils. He stared into Fade¡¯s mug before sipping from his own.

    ¡°Black again, eh,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°You should try it,¡± Fade said, ¡°It¡¯s the best way to get sober,¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡± Bert asked, ¡°Every time ya get a little ya pass out before ya even get drunk.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Karen interrupted their coffee break. She glanced at the coffee, then stared at the two men like they were misbehaving puppies.

    ¡°How long are you boys going to keep me waiting?¡± she asked, ¡°My broadcast needs to be ready before the twilight news airs in the Imperial Capital. That¡¯s twenty minutes from now! You better be there.¡±

    She left in a hurry, kicking the side of the hatch once she was out of the kitchen, a custom designed to simulate the slamming of a door.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll help her broadcast,¡± Fade said, ¡°nothing better to do.¡±

    ¡°What a woman,¡± Bert whistled, ¡°Think I could get a handful of her on television?¡±

    ¡°Behave yourself,¡± Fade said. ¡°I don¡¯t need that kind of publicity.¡±

    ¡°I wonder if she ever played volleyball?¡±

    -----

    With the exception of shuffling feet and the various panel pings, the control room remained quiet. Bert accessed the headphones of the intercom panel and adjusted the sound controls. When finished, he admired Karen as she leaned against the back of her seat. Her eyes were stitched to her phone. Bert winked, and while she saw him out of the corner of her eye she pretended not to notice.

    The greasy black hair of Adritah glimmered as he stood near the exit. The other cameraman, Carlos, examined the camera. Neither bothered to notice Bert¡¯s antics. Bert salivated for the few seconds as Karen bent over to rummage through her purse and retrieve a blue case with a small powder puff inside.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be on in five minutes and you¡¯re still not ready,¡± she said to Fade, trying to powder his face. Fade flicked the puff to the other side of the room. Bert caught it, took a sniff, and stuffed it in his pocket.

    ¡°I don¡¯t use makeup,¡± Fade said.

    The lights dimmed slightly during a minimal vibration. The first telegraph transferred the distance via micro magnetic wormhole. The computers furiously worked to convert the information into a message.

    ¡°We just made the first telegraph,¡± Bert said, ¡°checking coordinates and distance. Give me a few minutes to adjust the field, otherwise they won¡¯t receive a signal back on the capitol.¡±

    The magnetic wormhole relay allowed faster than light communications. Planets several thousand light years away could receive communications minutes or hours later. Bert worked franticly, his fingers typing code quickly.

    "This is a live feed,¡± Karen said, ¡°Please, try to make a good impression. You might even be interviewed by Mr. Derrick himself; so Fade should try to look busy.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s ready,¡± Bert said, finishing his work on the controls.

    Karen fastened a black microphone the size of a pin to her collar before primping herself in front of the camera. There was another microphone in her hand, a thin black cylinder, which she tested by issuing more verbal commands. She hid the strap of a tiny pair of earphones in her hair.

    As an added bonus, Bert diverted the majority of the front screen to the stargazing cameras on the ship¡¯s hull. The brilliant array of steady celestial lights made the galaxy glow. The radar screens were reduced to a minimum, but nothing bigger than the Imminent Destruction¡¯s own matter trail showed within seventy-five thousand kilometers.

    ¡°Ten seconds, Miss Hughes,¡± said Carlos, the rest of the countdown flickered from a small screen atop the main camera. She said ¡®Circlet Press¡¯ and her equipment activated. Once the red digits clicked down to zero, she spoke without hesitation.

    ¡°This is Karen Hughes, reporting live aboard the cruiser Imminent Destruction of the Independent Battle Corp,¡± she said, ¡°The Imminent Destruction is a mercenary cruiser en-route to the join the Imperial Fleet in a pivotal assault on enemy forces.¡±

    Karen paused, holding her earphone.

    ¡°No Tom, we¡¯ve had no contact with the enemy. It¡¯s been a peaceful voyage.¡±

    ¡°With a few ceptions,¡± Bert said quietly, accessing his communications controls. He switched the incoming feed onto the intercom so the passengers and crew could hear the questions.

    ¡°Planet huggers here in the capital tend to wonder what it¡¯s like up there,¡± Tom said, ¡°Have you experienced zero gravity?¡±

    ¡°Actually no, this cruiser lacks zero gravity facilities. In order to utilize zero gravity the gravity generators would have to be shut down. We¡¯ve experienced half a gravitational unit consistently, the pull generated toward the negative Y of ship.¡±

    ¡°What about the crew, how many people are aboard the ship?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s confidential information at this stage,¡± she said, ¡°The captain has not given me access. I¡¯ve been kept on a short leash.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like a picture of that,¡± Bert said under his breath,

    ¡°Would anyone on board be willing to communicate?¡± Tom asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± she said, ¡°I had trouble even getting access as a member of the standard imperial press.¡±

    ¡°I can tell you a little bit, common knowledge of course¡± Bert said, standing beside her, ¡°I¡¯m the mechanic, anything that breaks down, I fix it. I also work the missile launchers. The Imminent Destruction is a special cruiser, far more powerful than your average machine, and smarter too.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s quite a boast,¡± Karen frowned, ¡°Since you are the Mechanic, could you tell us about the Imminent Destruction¡¯s technical specs?¡±

    ¡°This is an X-580ID class cruiser,¡± Bert explained, a bit of sweat forming on his brow, ¡°They come standardized with four, one-hundred and five millimeter beam cannon on the front quadrants. It also carries homing torpedoes which can target a cruiser from as far as three hundred thousand kilometers. I¡¯ve recently uphanded the torpedoes to Deadeye-11s to have more resistance to counting measures.

    The space mine launchers can lay down twenty dispersal mines at a time, which create spherical fields in under a minute. I¡¯ve installed top of the line anti-personnel weaponry on the surface, over twenty particle guns, false entrance panels that... go boom when opened in a vacuum, repair droids, and top of the line anti-virus software.

    Now, as for speed, the Imminent Destruction¡¯s short term sub-space jumping ability can push her to proton twenty. The cruiser¡¯s deep space maneuverability mode is also unmatched. She can handle Mach four in deep space with the upgrades I installed to the particle engines. Any other question?¡±

    ¡°Nothing more for you Mr. Slemgut. Please give me my microphone back,¡±

    Bert dropped the microphone in her palm, and she tossed it to the Captain.

    ¡°The Imminent Destruction has had a profuse service record under your command,¡± she said, ¡°Could you give the Imperial citizens an example of your exploits?¡±

    ¡°I prefer not to,¡± Fade sighed, ¡°but I¡¯ll assure the citizens of Imperial victory. It¡¯s my duty as a citizen.¡±

    Karen backed away, deciding to wrap up her report.

    ¡°Thank you, Captain,¡± Karen said, ¡°Thank you Mr. Derrick. I will continue to report from the Imminent...¡±

    Karen flew backwards into control panel as room rocked. The screens showing the outside glowed with ripples of royal purple as another shock wave vibrated through the control room.

    Bert examined the radar in a cold sweat as Karen crawled back to her camera.

 13. Copy Hawks

    ¡°Keep the camera on me,¡± she yelled to Carlos.

    Horace activated, speaking quietly, ¡°The hull has sustained non-critical damaged from a type-31 torpedo in the left rear sector. I¡¯m activating the particle shields now, ion shields on standby. Enemy at zero percent radar visibility.¡±

    ¡°My homing missiles are useless without a signature,¡± Bert said, ¡°Are they far away, or do the bastards just have damn good cloaking?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m detecting light energy anomalies in the vicinity,¡± Horace said, ¡°but the error margin is within fifty thousand kilometers. I¡¯ll activate the anti-cloak field if you wish.¡±

    ¡°Do it,¡± Bert said. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to quibble about the energy loss.¡±

    Fade gripped the steering rod, sending his cruiser down a forty degree incline. The blast of the thrust was felt as a tiny push.

    ¡°When will the field be ready?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯ll work properly,¡± Bert said, ¡°I never properly checked the installation. Didn¡¯t have time.¡±

    ¡°Magnificent,¡± Fade said, ¡°Horace, plot our course every two kilometers, and keep bearing. Switch to visual identification and keep your eyes peeled.¡±

    Horace¡¯s cameras found their marks quickly ¡°Five visual anomalies in the star field, I can¡¯t use this information for the weapons.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to aid your eyes,¡± Bert said, ¡°Horace, engage all hull cameras.¡±

    Karen stood, pressing her face close to her broadcast camera.

    ¡°This is incredible,¡± Karen yelled, ¡°The Imminent Destruction is under attack by enemy warships, and it seems the enemy has the initiative. We¡¯ve been completely surprised. A blast was heard, I repeat a blast was heard from the back of the ship. The damage is light, but anything could happen. We¡¯ll continue to broadcast as long as possible.¡±

    ¡°What is the pilot doing to counter the enemy activity?¡± Tom asked.

    ¡°Anti-cloaking field activated,¡± Horace said, ¡°You can thank Destiny later, she finished verifying the system.¡±

    The enemy vessels were old destroyers of Imperial design, with a few modifications suited to pirate fighting styles. Their long, sleek, black surfaces blended with the emptiness of space. The elongated fronts had rounded caverns serving as chambers for two particle machine guns mounted on each side. The central hub held the crew compartments; directly underneath it was a one hundred millimeter particle cannon, the only heavy weapon.

    ¡°Pirates?¡± Fade said, as soon as the new signals came through, ¡°What are pirates doing attacking a mercenary cruiser?¡±

    ¡°This is no time for ponderin¡¯ captain!¡± Bert yelled, ¡°Torpedoes ready.¡±

    ¡°Get a target lock, we still don¡¯t have a good radar signal so use the visual sights,¡± Fade commanded, ¡°Horace, lay down suppressive fire with the main cannons.¡±

    The nodules in the Imminent Destruction¡¯s hull opened and the heavy beam cannons extended. Able to swing three-hundred and sixty degrees, they fired while rotating, aiming energy beams of neon purple within the enemy formation without recoiling. They fired every second, moving so quickly it seemed the cannons themselves were chasing the enemy. A pirate destroyer exploded, spewing black metal and heated gases.

    ¡°Take that!¡± Bert said.

    ¡°The Imminent Destruction seems to be under attack by pirates,¡± Karen said, ¡°We¡¯ve already taken some kind of evasive action. I believe the particle thrusters are maneuvering the ship. Wait, they¡¯re getting homing torpedoes ready to fire. The Imminent Destruction is using an anti-cloaking field generator, though I think it needs more time to gain radar locks.¡±

    ¡°Karen,¡± came the voice from the studio. ¡°Are you safe? Do you know why the pirates are attacking?¡±

    "I got two more on visual,¡± Bert yelled, ¡°they¡¯re movin¡¯ all over the place.¡±

    The pirate formation loosened, flying circles around the Imminent Destruction to within mere meters of its hull. The cruiser¡¯s beam cannons, which were a danger to their own ship at such close ranges, stopped firing, giving way to ten-millimeter laser guns which proved ineffective.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    The light dispersal shields of the pirate ships converted the lasers into scattered rays of visible light. Two destroyers positioned themselves before the front of the Imminent Destruction¡¯s hull, brazenly firing regular physical munitions into the face of the cruiser. The Imminent Destruction swept down in an attempt to gain distance for its beam cannons, but the destroyers proved too nimble; they moved with it, keeping free of the cannon¡¯s trajectory.

    More lead hit the Imminent Destruction¡¯s backside, so it changed direction again and attempted to ram those pirates that chipped away at the sensitive thrusters. The strategy failed. Before the Imminent Destruction pulled back, the pirate destroyers had cleared the space as if by instinct. The retreating pirates fired particle cannons and the Imminent Destruction¡¯s basic electro-gravitational shield fluttered as its strength waned. Titanium pieces fragmented from the cruiser¡¯s surface, activating Ion shields which siphoned further strength from the weapons.

    The destroyers were undeterred by the mercenary cruiser¡¯s robust defenses. They launched three stubby torpedoes with short rounded fins, basic DXL heat seekers were specially programmed not to target the other pirate ships. The Imminent Destruction dove upwards before releasing heated plasma that prematurely exploded the first torpedo. Then it turned in a loop to avoid particle cannon fire and another torpedo. A shift backwards, along with the release of chaff from the front, fooled the third. The fourth, which achieved a perfect lock on its target, was destroyed by an application of fire from the beam cannon.

    ¡°Goin¡¯ more defensive and lowerin¡¯ the power on the cannons has stolen their thunder. Now it¡¯s our turn to show¡¯em some close combat. I¡¯ll aim our torpedoes manually,¡± Bert said, adjusting groups of targets over his visual screens as he typed at the console. ¡°They¡¯re com¡¯in at us from behind and from the front in double formations. The two in back are so close together I can hit¡¯em both with one shot.¡±

    ¡°Fire a volley, then hit them with the good stuff. Fire into the rear formation first,¡± Fade said, ¡°They¡¯ve shown skill, we can¡¯t underestimate them.¡±

    The C11 torpedoes were basic models; they would travel on straight trajectories to their target. They flew directly toward the destroyer formation to the rear, only to pass the nimble vessels and self-destruct. Two C21 heat seekers followed their flanks in the cover of their matter trail. These smaller models had powerful chemical explosives in the glowing green bulbs at their tips. For maximum effect, the computers inside the C21 would decide the shape, timing and force of any explosion.

    The black destroyers moved to the sides as the C21s approached, releasing countermeasures in the empty center point of their hollow formation. The wave of heated particles fooled the C21¡¯s directly into the trap, where an electro-magnetic pulse ball in the midst of the chaff disabled their computers, causing premature detonations. The enemy warships came through without a scratch, and sped for the Imminent Destruction¡¯s flank.

    ¡°Evasive action; lower-right slope, negative twenty four degrees,¡± Fade said as his fist pounded the consul.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why the pirate vessels are attacking,¡± Karen reported, ¡°but we¡¯ve been forced to take evasive action until we can get a better radar picture.¡±

    ¡°Enemy from the sides,¡± Bert said, ¡°they¡¯re closin¡¯ in on our cannon, dodgin¡¯ all its shots; we¡¯re not even shakin¡¯ the ships in the rear. Are they psychic or sometin?¡±

    Three pirate destroyers unleashed one-hundred-millimeter particle beams directly into the Imminent Destruction¡¯s northeast cannon. The barrel cracked at its base, breaking off from an explosion that spewed glowing fragments.

    The control room heated to a nearly sauna like state. Horace announced the situation would correct itself, but by the time the temperature cooled everyone was perspiring. Fade swiped at the sweat running from his cap, keeping his eyes on the visual. More destroyers surrounded the Imminent Destruction, a total of twelve within visual range. At least two destroyers posted guard on every side, each fewer than a thousand kilometers away. The lead destroyer approached within ten meters of the Imminent Destruction¡¯s front spike and matched speed.

    ¡°Damage report,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Beam Cannon one destroyed,¡± Horace responded, ¡°Evasive maneuvers ineffective. Anti-boarding defenses ready.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve lost a cannon,¡± Karen reported, ¡°This looks like the beginning of the end, Tom. The control room was like an oven only a moment ago.¡±

    The communication screen flashed with a message from the pirates. The bridge of the pirate vessel was dark, only red indicator lights and the captain¡¯s panel allowed for sight. A man with a clean-shaven head adjusted dark shades.

    ¡°Hello, Captain Defacto. Is it cooling down in there yet?¡± he said, his voice a deeply harmonic bass. ¡°I¡¯ve an offer you can¡¯t refuse, give us your cruiser and we won¡¯t terminate your crew.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised,¡± Fade said ¡°you actually have the guts to outnumber someone who can shoot back. What bought about the sudden change in operations? Unarmed prey losing profitability, or have mercenaries become that popular?¡±

    ¡°Not even interested in my name, eh? Well, you¡¯re popular enough to be worth my time. We¡¯ll have plenty of time to get to know each other soon enough. Don¡¯t try anything funny; I know your every move, so there¡¯s no chance of out maneuvering my Black Hawks. You fought well under the circumstances. Surrender now and nobody else has to die.¡±

    ¡°Who hired you?¡± Fade said, ¡°The Buldethians, The Spirit Guild, who?¡±

    ¡°Ten seconds and we all fire,¡± the man said, ¡°Your shields can only take two direct hits.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll prepare to surrender,¡± Fade said.

    Bert leaned back from the radar and sighed as Karen turned from the camera and threw off her ear phones.

    ¡°I need a few minutes to get everybody together,¡± Fade said, ¡°Are you happy now, you¡¯re no ordinary pirates, you¡¯re enemies of the Imperial Senate.¡±

    He turned to Bert, speaking harshly, ¡°Prepare our surrender procedure.¡±

    ¡°We ain¡¯t got a surrender proceedin¡¯,¡± Bert yelled back.

    ¡°Then make one!¡±

    The pirate captain laughed, ¡°Very good, we¡¯ll collect your personnel and drop them into Swauolie. You will remain as our esteemed guest. I hope you consider it a fair compromise. We¡¯ll be sending a special crew to board.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Fade said.

    The screen faded.

 14. Redefining Surrender Procedure

    The screen faded.

    Bert grabbed Fade¡¯s arm.

    ¡°What¡¯s goin¡¯ on, Fade,¡± he said, ¡°The situation ain¡¯t that bad. Are ya losin¡¯ your nerve cause of Kitten? One thing¡¯s for sure, I¡¯d rather go down and take a few more with me. Don¡¯t go soft on me!¡±

    Fade turned on Bert with gusto, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his chair. With Bert in his face, Fade winked his left eye and nodded toward the camera gently.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± he growled, ¡°We have to surrender!¡±

    ¡°Tom, we are preparing to surrender,¡± Karen reported, ¡°They were only pirates, and this is a mercenary cruiser of the independent battle fleet! An imperial cruiser would have fought to the last man; once again, the inept cowardice of the Independent Fleets is exposed.¡±

    Fade looked back at the camera, staring angrily as he growled.

    ¡°Could you stop being a stupid - for five seconds?¡±

    Karen glared at him.

    Rust stains broke through the paint of the pirate boarding vessel. Puke green sludge ran from hairline cracks in its hull. There were three round windows on its surface, but nothing of the inside could be seen. Many battle scars on its surface were filled with silver colored sealant, or plugged with white plastic corks which were filed flush with the surface. Long abrasive marks indicated the identification casts had been sanded away. The Imminent Destruction exposed its loading bay to the collection ship, which moved slowly because it was constantly veering off course.

    Fade isolated his computer systems, and downgraded Horace¡¯s operations to safe mode. The internal communications were free of interference, so he paged Destiny¡¯s palm computer. She appeared on one of Bert¡¯s small screens, her uniform sweaty.

    ¡°What do you want!?¡± she asked irritably, breathing heavily. ¡°Can¡¯t I even get cleaned up!¡±

    ¡°Can you hack Horace¡¯s radar,¡± Fade asked, speaking softly enough not to be heard on camera, ¡°I know this is sudden, but we¡¯re surrounded by the enemy and they have a mole program in the navigation system. I want you to create a false signature beacon above the ship. It has to simulate the enemy radar signature as exactly as possible. Do you think you can do it?¡±

    Carlos and Adritah both pulled nine-millimeter laser pistols and aimed them at Fade and Bert, ¡°We won¡¯t let you pull this off Captain. Surrender peacefully and nobody dies.¡±

    Fade ignored them, knowing they needed him alive, at least for now.

    ¡°I¡¯m here trying to figure out how to work the showers,¡± Destiny said, referring to the stalls behind her.

    ¡°You can connect with Horace in the locker room,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°I can do it.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t hurry, we all die,¡± Fade cut off the communication before turning around with his hands in the air, ¡°Can the shit, you¡¯re no bounty hunters. You¡¯re spies for the guild. They¡¯re the only one¡¯s around able to pull off something like this.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about!¡± Adritah yelled nervously.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this, Tom,¡± Karen reported, ¡°My own camera men part of conspiracy to destroy the empire. If I had a gun, I¡¯d shoot these people myself.¡±

    Carlos grabbed Karen¡¯s neck, pushed her to the back of the seat behind her, and held his gun to her head.

    ¡°Karen, no!¡± Tom yelled with hard emotion, ¡°Don¡¯t provoke them.¡±

    ¡°Stuck up -,¡± Carlos said, ¡°It¡¯s going to feel so good finishing you off in front of the known universe.¡±

    Adritah saw the decoy form on the radar screen and picked up Karen¡¯s microphone, ¡°Worm to Black Hawk,¡± he said, ¡°The northern unit is a ploy, his movement hasn¡¯t been reduced by your fire.¡±

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    A thick slug from Fade¡¯s seventeen-millimeter revolver hit the microphone and fractured the camera¡¯s lens. The next bullet shattered the inner workings of the camera. A buzz of electricity followed fizzling sparks flying from the box.

    Damaged recording discs fell to the floor, bouncing like coins wherever they landed. Karen kicked Carlos against the camera only to cower on her empty seat covering her ears. Fade fired the revolver with one hand and steered the cruiser with the other.

    The third bullet went into the forehead of Carlos, who fell with a dull thud. Adritah, ears ringing, pulled away clumsily, managing to laser Fade¡¯s underarm. The revolver fell as smoke and blood came forth simultaneously from the burn. Bert rammed Adritah from the side, shaking loose his pistol. A punch to the chest pushed Bert into the control panels. Adritah opened the hatch and slid outside the control room.

    The pirate fleet closed in. Fade worked the control panel. After locking the hatch to avoid a counter attack, Bert returned to his seat and assisted. The false radar signature formed a purple sphere on the three dimensional radar.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to do a one-eighty and move upwards at full maneuvering speed,¡± Fade said. ¡°Fire all the cannons downward as we ascend. They¡¯re on to us, so it¡¯s now or never. Disconnect that camera from the floor circuits and run a virus check on our computer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m free of all interference, Sergeant Payson is on her way to the control room,¡± interrupted Horace.

    ¡°Then help us get locks on these visuals,¡± Fade said.

    The thrusters roared, propelling the Imminent Destruction on its path of escape from the enemy sphere formation, right through the opening left by the phantom pirate vessel¡¯s radar signature. The three remaining cannons fired, and this time Fade had plotted positions and possible movements manually. The lead pirate vessel that confronted them shattered into an explosion with red, black, and orange plumes bulging from its center. The detritus flew so far that the other ships were hit, pieces clanged against the Imminent Destruction. Two more pirate ships suffered jagged holes of fiery metal over their bridges from indirect hits.

    Horace''s voice flowed monotonous and calm, ¡°Engaging anti-stealth field and electro-magnetic pulse. Aiming assistance enabled.¡±

    An electronic blast originated from the Imminent Destruction, blue waves of electricity moved in every direction, dissipating two-thousand and fifty kilometers into space. On the bridge the radar beeped and blipped as the little red dots finally showed up across the screens and inside the holographic sphere. Nine pirate destroyers had their weapons disabled by the electromagnetic pulse and retreated as their engines proved resistant.

    ¡°They¡¯re on the run, Yee-haw!¡± Bert screamed.

    ¡°Once enemy clears two thousand kilometers, fire the implosion torpedo,¡± Fade¡¯s blood dripped over the control panel, his voice faint yet fierce, ¡°They¡¯re going to pay for getting the jump on me.¡±

    The pirate fleet dispersed with their tight formations, yet maintained a loose group as they fled. When the nine remaining destroyers retreated two thousand kilometers distance, the infusion warhead joined their ranks, separating from its twenty-meter-long propulsion system. Within seconds, a silver sphere with chimney like electrodes broke from the missile. At five thousand kilometers the gravitational intensification system activated. The remaining destroyers twisted, their metal tore like paper as they tried to escape the sudden gravity vortex. The destroyers heated to thousands of degrees before imploding, melting together into a spherical asteroid.

    A stream of blood ran down Fade¡¯s right side, soaking his uniform. Putting his fist against his armpit didn¡¯t stop the flow. Bert tore off his shirt, the antithesis of clean and sterile, and quickly tied it restrictively around the wound. Fade put the ship on auto-pilot and reclaimed his revolver. He flicked open the revolving mechanism and replaced the three used shells with fresh ones from his coat so quickly that his arms appeared to blur.

    ¡°We gotta get that spy before he hurts someone,¡± Bert said, ¡°I got his pistol, but that don¡¯t mean nothin¡¯ if he¡¯s guild material.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it!?¡± yelled Karen, crawling from her seat. ¡°They were spies.¡±

    Fade aimed his pistol at a dent in the control room hatch with his left hand. His view was fuzzy, so he saw two dents circling each other.

    ¡°Get Lieutenant Soel on the intercom,¡± Fade said. ¡°Tell him we have an enemy agent on board, and we need a squad to help us find him. Give him Adritah¡¯s description and a warning that he may be armed.¡±

    Karen knelt over the empty seat and sobbed.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know-- I didn¡¯t-- they were spies,¡± Karen cried. ¡°I didn¡¯t-- I¡¯m not a spy. I didn¡¯t-- I¡¯m an Imperial citizen. I didn¡¯t-- I-- I-- please don¡¯t--¡±

    ¡°I talked to Soel,¡± Bert said, throwing his headphones off, ¡°Spy huntin¡¯ isn¡¯t his sponsor-ability, sides, all his men are drugged for nap time. And Miss Howards, don¡¯t worry bout it, okay? It¡¯ll be alright. We know you ain¡¯t a spy.¡±

    Bert knelt beside Karen, putting a hand on her shoulder. It quickly slid down her back and felt her rear. She jumped, and her elbow smashed into Bert¡¯s left eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she cried, ¡°that was an automatic reaction. Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Knock it off Bert. So he put everyone to sleep at once?¡±

    ¡°Parently so,¡± Bert said, returning to his seat with a hand over his eye. ¡°Why don¡¯t ya ask him yourself?¡±

    ¡°No thanks. I¡¯ll worry about course corrections later,¡± Fade said, ¡°Protect Karen and keep an eye on things. I¡¯ll handle this on my own.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get to do any fun stuff, don¡¯t I?¡± Bert said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry Miss Horror, I¡¯ll protect ya, you can always count on good ol, one eyed Slemgut.¡±

    ¡°Keep your hands to yourself,¡± she said, ¡°and it won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    The hatch opened.

    Both men simultaneously took aim.

 15. Bleeding Burn

    ¡°Don¡¯t shoot, I¡¯m friendly,¡± Destiny said before entering.

    Perspiration soaked her uniform. Fade grimaced as he folded his arms, and Destiny¡¯s face went pale when she saw his wound.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt!¡± she said, ¡°It looks serious.¡±

    ¡°Leave it alone! I¡¯ll have to manage.¡±

    Destiny collected herself, opened the gun closet, and pulled out a laser rifle. The indicator light gauge extended to full power as she readied it.

    ¡°That¡¯s good, because I never succeeded in first aid,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯ll help you catch them. You can¡¯t do it alone, and I won¡¯t let you.¡±

    Fade put his gun back in the holster and his arms on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth until her head bobbed up and down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand the trouble you¡¯re causing!?¡±

    ¡°Stop- shaking- my- he-he-head- please!¡±

    When he finally stopped, she hobbled into him, breathing on his chest; still, she held her weapon with both hands, keeping the barrel pointed towards the ceiling.

    ¡°Now I¡¯m dizzy,¡± she said.

    Fade lifted her by the stomach, sat her down and attempted to take the rifle. Her grasp was too strong for his injured arm, which felt like it was going to come apart when he pulled, so he slid his finger up the side of the barrel before giving up.

    ¡°Give it up,¡± Fade said.

    She refused, scrunching her face at him.

    ¡°Fine, keep it. I could care less. Stay here with Bert and Miss Howards, where it¡¯s safe.¡±

    Bert grumbled, ¡°Great, why should I get stuck with the babysittin¡¯ job? She¡¯s a sergeant now, let her guard Miss Horror. I should be helpin¡¯ you, with your injury and all.¡±

    ¡°Protect them, no funny business,¡± Fade said, ¡°If Sergeant Payson tries to leave, you have my permission to use force.¡±

    Bert looked a little wary of Fade¡¯s instructions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about her,¡± Fade said, ¡°She won¡¯t shoot you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes I will.¡±

    ¡°Not with a gun lacking charge.¡±

    She looked at the rifle¡¯s indicator bulb.

    ¡°You dirty bastard, you discharged my rifle! How?¡± she yelled, but Fade was gone.

    ¡°Well, well, well. You seem more concerned about getting battle time then you do about Fade¡¯s safety,¡± Bert said, sitting in the captain¡¯s chair and using his own seat to prop his legs. He pointed his freshly charged laser rifle at Destiny. ¡°Looks like I get to sit with the ladies. Boy O¡¯ boy!¡±

    Destiny threw the useless rifle, made two fists, and crossed her arms. Karen sat on her chair with her head between her legs, sobbing faintly. Destiny checked Karen¡¯s abdomen.

    ¡°Hey Lieutenant, I think she was hurt down here. Take a look at this wound.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Karen sobbed. ¡°I haven¡¯t even been scratched.¡±

    ¡°Yes you have, and trying to hide it like that will only make it worse.¡±

    The ruffled blonde shifted away from her.

    ¡°Let me see. If she¡¯s hurt, I better get some first aid,¡± Bert knelt, forgetting his weapon as Destiny shuffled her way behind them. Karen lifted her arms to show him she had not been wounded.

    ¡°You might have been injured around the chest. I better open your blouse and take a closer look.¡±

    Both his cheeks met the forceful slap of her open hand, leaving him with sore red imprints.

    ¡°Worth a try,¡± Bert muttered with a smile.

    ¡°Well, I hope you feel gratified, you- you goon,¡± Karen said, ¡°and I hope you know that the little brunette escaped with your rifle while you were occupied.¡±

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    Bert looked around the control room, no Destiny. The rifle by his chair was also gone, left behind was the drained rifle she had thrown aside. He turned around and banged his head against the control panel. Karen stood, wiped the moisture from her eyes as she smirked, and folded her arms under her chest. She paced back and forth while shivering in the dry heat.

    -----

    The hatch of the maintenance compartment was jammed half open. A system bypass card stuck in the panel¡¯s key slot caused the screen to display random security code. Ace stood by the hatch, gun ready.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you here,¡± Fade said.

    "I don¡¯t like induced sleep, so I don¡¯t take the drugs,¡± Ace said, ¡°I was awake when Bert contacted Lieutenant Soel, so I¡¯d thought I¡¯d have at it, as the old Slemgut would say.¡±

    They entered the maintenance hall separately, for the hatch plates only opened a half meter wide. There were gaping square holes in the wall where panels had been removed and never replaced. Some still laid on the floor or sat in the drainage gullies. The pipes of the water and fuel systems were laced with limp Hydraulic fusion lines, which leaked a pale dirty fluid. The lights illuminated portions of the ceiling and the walls, but so dimly that the floors seemed to creep with an undisturbed shadow.

    ¡°Stay where you are,¡± Fade said, ¡°I¡¯m going to check the storage compartment.¡±

    The panel labeled ¡°Storage 2¡± sparked as he entered the code. The electronics were recently damaged; it had to be opened manually. A rusty wheel hid behind a nearby panel, but it required much strength to turn as the hatch opened only a centimeter with each full turn. By the time it was half open, Fade¡¯s right arm went numb and electric pain stirred in his shoulder. The muscles in his upper arm tingled as his underarm became moist with fresh blood that soaked through Bert¡¯s shirt sleeve bandage.

    Fade pulled a small yellow ball from a compartment inside his trench coat, squeezed it, and threw it inside the storage compartment. A yellowish gas streamed outward, but no sound besides the hissing of the gas. The bandage needed tightened so he huddled in a corner. His right hand was so numb he couldn¡¯t make a fist. Ace went to investigate the room, but Fade stopped him, assuring him no one was inside. He picked up his communicator as Ace checked around the corner.

    ¡°Bert, monitor the ship. Have Horace engage the security sensors.¡±

    ¡°Done already,¡± Bert said, rubbing a swelling and darkening eye socket.

    ¡°I need you to get a fix on this guy¡¯s location,¡± Fade said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can continue this manhunt much longer.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get a fix on his location because he keeps disabling Horace¡¯s security sensors. He¡¯s also destroyin¡¯ the cameras. All I know is that he¡¯s not in waste management or the main engine maintenance area, yet. Horace still has a picture in those areas.¡±

    ¡°Great, that really helps,¡± Fade said, ¡°If you can¡¯t fix it, see if Destiny can.¡±

    ¡°Oh, ya, by the way, Kitten. She¡¯s...¡±

    ¡°What about her?¡± Fade snapped.

    ¡°Well, she scaped with my rifle.¡±

    ¡°She what! Never mind, back to work. See if you can¡¯t get some help from our military friends, but don¡¯t beg.¡±

    ¡°I just lost two cameras in engine maintenance,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°So, he¡¯s in there,¡± Ace said before running toward the engine maintenance hatch. Fade followed and soon took the lead, as he was more familiar with the ship.

    The open repair hatch revealed the wide halls inside. A huge fusion-liquid pipe lined the left side, glowing blue liquid seen flowing in the clear windows on the pipe itself bubbled. On the right, machinery alternated between huge pistons and electron generators that charged the batteries. The pistons, even within their crystal chambers, were incredibly noisy, clanging against one another to create a massive, atom-crunching, shock-wave buffered by a protective energy field. Moisture hung in the air, condensation had pasted droplet patterns on every flat surface, on steel or iron rust marks grew. The pale lights and the purplish hues that sprung from the outer mesh of the electron generators illuminated airborne dust.

    The combined hiss and grind of the pistons, the whir of recycling systems, and sizzles of the electron containers made for a melancholy screech. Fade tripped over a small magnetic tool box that sat idly on the floor and caught himself by grabbing a fusion pipe with his good hand. Thick greasy dirt on the warm metal smeared across his palm. He dropped his revolver. It hit the titanium floor panels with a clang, but he pulled it back with his foot. A scratching noise from the side alerted him; a tawny rat gnawed at the circuit box for the lighting system. Its red eyes glowed. It scratched with its claws against the floor, drumming the metal. Fade kicked the tool box to crush the creature against the wall.

    ¡°Another stowaway,¡± he muttered.

    Fade hobbled a few steps further, then sat down. A large vertical recycling pipe served as a leaning post as he stretched his feet toward the opposite end of the hall. The numbness attacked his shoulder; his right arm remained immobile. Ace leaned nearby, examining the dirty blue rayon wrapped like a tourniquet around the shoulder even as congealing blood escaped through it.

    ¡°It¡¯s too tight,¡± Ace said. ¡°Want to lose your arm over a flesh wound? Let me take it off.¡±

    Crimson soaked through the stiff double knot. Ace¡¯s fingers borrowed the hue as he worked it loose. It ripped unevenly, with threads hanging from the ends. The stain on the inside was less severe than the blood that soaked the outside because the bandage had been tied away from the wound. Ace threw it over the tool box, working as quickly as he could. He placed the medals of his pilot¡¯s uniform in his pants pockets so he could use his shirt as a fresh bandage.

    ¡°You¡¯ve lost blood, nothing life threatening, could have lost more if it wasn¡¯t for the burn,¡± Ace explained, ¡°The wound needs to be cleaned. Why aren¡¯t there any med-kits on this vessel? What kind of idiot uses a filthy rag as a bandage?¡±

    ¡°We have a med-bay, why would we need kits? I¡¯ll be fine. Let¡¯s get this over with,¡± Fade hobbled up with the aid of one arm. His wounded right arm tingled like it was raining needles on his skin, though it was already regaining movement, despite heavier bleeding.

    Footsteps approached. They readied their weapons, holding their fire as a shadow turned the corner, becoming a male figure with his arms in the air. It was Adritah. Destiny had him.

    Yet he held a small, black, restriction device in his left hand.

    The metal grills on its surface glowed as it activated.

 16. Medbay

    Once placed on its victim the pulse device would attach to the body via electronic polarization. Fully charged, it could kill by leaving a lingering electron pulse in the body that squeezed the blood vessels shut.

    ¡°Hey guys!¡± she said, smiling. ¡°I caught him. What do you think about that?¡±

    ¡°Is she good or what?¡± Ace asked, loosening his posture. Fade focused on the stun device, he indicated its presence to Ace by pointing the revolver. Ace jumped back to combat posture. Adritah was ready to drop the restriction device on her, positioning it carefully at the top of his hand. If they fired now, it would fall against Destiny.

    Fade whispered to Ace, ¡°Aim at his head. Don¡¯t shoot unless I yell fire.¡±

    He turned to Destiny with a command, ¡°Kick him forward and run away.¡±

    ¡°Why in the world would you guys want me to do a thing like that?¡± she said, ¡°I caught him, he¡¯s no longer a threat.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a threat! Now, push him towards us before he-¡± Adritah¡¯s devious stare stopped him from speaking further.

    ¡°I won¡¯t do that, all you need to do is restrain him. I don¡¯t see the need for more bloodshed.¡±

    Fade fired; the bullet hit the device while the force dismembered Adritah¡¯s middle finger. The finger clung to the device as it ricocheted against the wall and bounced off Destiny¡¯s abdomen. The momentary touch caused her immediate collapse. Adritah ducked, snatching her rifle and pushed it against her nose. Blood from his finger stump ran down the barrel, congealing over her cheek.

    ¡°One wrong move,¡± he yelled, ¡°and I¡¯ll spread this girl¡¯s face across the floor.¡±

    She laid almost against the wall, out cold, and breathing heavily. The device had rolled away from her and the finger had buffered it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill her if she ain¡¯t already dead,¡± Adritah said. ¡°I won¡¯t hesitate¡±

    ¡°You son of a bitch!¡± Fade snapped, ¡°When I¡¯m done with you, you¡¯re going to wish that finger had been your head.¡±

    ¡°This is a Stalemate, Captain Harry Defacto, or should I say subject A5. If you want victory, the girl has to die. If you accept defeat, then surrender. Drop your weapons and I¡¯ll let her live. She¡¯ll make plenty of fine spiritual material for the guild.¡±

    ¡°No! I¡¯ll let her die first. You can¡¯t have her humanity.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we can work out a deal,¡± Adritah said, ¡°You return where you belong, with our ship, and everyone here can have their freedom. We¡¯ll never touch them.¡±

    ¡°How can I trust you!?¡± Fade yelled.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± Ace asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re simply taking back what belongs to us,¡± Adritah said, ¡°Subject A5, you will conform.¡±

    Fade¡¯s aim wavered.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Adritah said, ¡°Return to us.¡±

    ¡°You think you have the upper hand. I could care less what happens to the others. I won¡¯t let you steal my soul!¡±

    ¡°Funny child, we already own it.¡±

    Adritah glanced at him confidently, pressing the laser rifle to full power. If he shot Destiny now, her remains would leave a mess scattered throughout the hall.

    ¡°Well, now¡¯s your chance. I have one shot at full power, if you let me kill her, I won¡¯t be able to defend myself. I¡¯ll give you five seconds to decide: One, two, three, four--.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, I surrender,¡± Fade said, ¡°Put the rifle on regular, and we¡¯ll throw down our weapons.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re in love with the girl,¡± Adritah said, ¡°That was your downfall. I thought we trained our assassins better.¡±

    Fade emptied his revolver. The shells clicked against the floor and rolled around his feet. Ace discharged his rifle. Both weapons went to the floor.

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    ¡°Good, now get your hands in the air,¡±

    He pointing his rifle at them as he approached, urging them to stand closer together with simple gestures, ¡°I can congratulate myself. The Guild is one step closer to its ultimate goal with the Imminent Destruction back in our control. For your information, I don¡¯t intend to keep any of the promises I made concerning your friends. They¡¯ll be put to use as the Guild sees fit.¡±

    The blue beams of a laser pistol came from behind, exploding against the titanium pipes. Adritah looked back for only a moment, long enough for Fade to jump forward and break his jaw with an uppercut. Ace pushed Fade back, pulled the rifle out of Adritah¡¯s hand, and blasted him point blank in the center of the chest. He fell with a dull thud. Ace bent down to check if the man was still alive. Blood flowed directly from Adritah¡¯s chest, soaking his clothes and pooling around him. Private Nick Nicholson from Destiny¡¯s capture, approached slowly, holding a pistol. Beads of sweat fell across Nick¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°I volunteered as soon as I woke up,¡± Nick said. ¡°Is everyone all right?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± said Ace ¡°No way this can be repaired in time.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Fade said, ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡±

    Adritah gurgled. Blood spewed from his mouth, dripping down his chin. He managed to convert his gurgling into a few last words as Ace pointed the rifle at his forehead.

    ¡°The Empire you serve. Even that is a puppet- controlled by the Spirit Guild. Keep hunting the crystals, we¡¯ll reach our goal eventually.¡±

    A stream of blood ran down the hall, taking Adritah¡¯s life with it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone with such a wound stay coherent,¡± Ace said, ¡°What did he mean by all that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know and I could care less,¡± Fade said as he felt Destiny¡¯s neck and put his ear over her lips.

    Her hand shot up, and clutched his arm, ¡°It hurts, everything hurts! It hurts everywhere!¡± she moaned loudly through clenched teeth and a tight grimace.

    As long as she felt pain, her nervous system remained functional. He carried her despite the protest from his underarm.

    ¡°Bert, put the droids on disposal duty,¡± Fade said into his communicator. ¡°We killed him. And what the hell¡¯s wrong with you?! You almost blew everything!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me, she¡¯s no child! Get her in the infirmary. I¡¯ll have Horace do everythin¡¯ he can. By the way, the troop commander called me, his men are awake and he¡¯s demandin¡¯ their dinner.¡±

    ¡°They can wait,¡± Fade said, ¡°Write a full a report about how you bungled your assignments.¡±

    ¡°A full report, look here. If you would have purchased those security droids Horace requested, none of this would have been necessary.¡±

    ¡°A humanoid droid would allow me to manifest myself anywhere in the ship, giving me the ability to apprehend suspicious characters,¡± Horace said through a nearby speaker.

    ¡°Just shut up,¡± Fade snapped, ¡°you can¡¯t even prevent a stowaway from sneaking aboard, you untrustworthy piece of junk. How do you expect me to trust you with that kind of hardware?¡±

    ¡°I resent that.¡±

    ¡°I could care less. A full report from Lieutenant Slemgut or his pay for this period gets docked by two-thirds, no questions.¡±

    Destiny awoke in Fade¡¯s arms, jumped to her feet but found herself incredibly unstable. Fade and Nick had to brace her from each side. Her head listed towards the floor and her left side went limp against Fade¡¯s good shoulder. She put an arm around him, allowing Fade¡¯s good arm to support her back. Ace followed close behind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need help. I¡¯m fine,¡± Destiny said. ¡°I can help put lunch together.¡±

    ¡°Do you even know how!? Forget it, you¡¯re going to rest. You still have the effects of that device in your system. If your blood vessels aren¡¯t monitored, you may die. Horace will monitor you for a while, so get some sleep. Afterwards, you should be fine; but only if you don¡¯t push yourself.¡±

    -----

    There were four steel beds with foam tops that adjusted to an individual¡¯s bodily form in the infirmary¡¯s surgery room. A surgical instrument panel extended from the ceiling over each bed. A wall computer displayed Horace¡¯s voice bubble. Destiny laid on the closest bed before Fade accessed Horace, who diagnosed the problems quickly using monitoring devices within the bed foam.

    ¡°There¡¯s no nerve damage. However, her blood flow to the chest cavity, the digestive tract, and the uterus is severely restricted. Her nerves are conducting a circular current that will command her veins and arteries to remain clasped for the next three days. Risk of heart attack at eighty seven percent, risk of stroke at fifty two percent, risk of limb death fifty percent, risk of internal organ death at ninety-five percent and imminent. Application of a counter current would be fatal. I¡¯ll treat her with Restriction Device Antidote Formula 27V, which must be applied directly onto the skin over the area of the restriction current until the effects of the current wane. I recommend that we start treatment immediately. All garments must be removed.¡±

    ¡°All my cloths, no way!¡± she struggled to get up, but Horace sprayed her nose with a sleeping vapor, and she quickly fell limp.

    ¡°Do you wish to remove her garments. Or should I destroy them with a laser cutter.¡±

    ¡°Use the cutter,¡± Fade said, ¡°Carefully.¡±

    ¡°I can take it from here then. I¡¯m rather fond of her, so it¡¯s pleasing to know how much you respect her modesty.¡±

    A privacy curtain lowered around the bedside as Horace cut away her garments. Fade smoothed out his eyebrows with his index finger and thumb as he left. Ace met him outside and put a hand on his shoulder, checking it. The blood had loosely congealed.

    ¡°Hey, that girl means a lot to you, doesn¡¯t she?¡± Ace asked.

    ¡°Her, I could care less. She¡¯s more trouble than she''s worth.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be alright?¡±

    ¡°Horace has to do some stuff, but she should be fine.¡±

    Fresh blood gained slow ground down Fade¡¯s pant leg, flowing from the newly soaked bandage around his shoulder.

    ¡°Something opened up,¡± Fade said before passing out.

    Ace drug him into the infirmary, hefting him onto one of the beds.

    ¡°Infected wound, burns, and moderate anemia,¡± Horace said dryly.

    ¡°Take care of him. I¡¯ll round up lunch for the assault squad,¡± Ace said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s my responsibility to protect his life.¡±

 17. Lieutenant Soel

    Ration tubes flopped before the men of the 111th Infiltration Company as Ace made his rounds through the mess hall to distribute the tubes from a pouch in his apron with one hand while pouring government surplus coffee with the other. The coffee smelt like sewage and gave a bitter burn to the tongue. Some of the men mixed their rations with it, others avoided it completely.

    They were a shaven, clean-cut group of young men. Most had crew cuts; a few had the privilege of a hair style, but nobody had long hair, with the exception of Private Nicholson, who managed to keep a neck length pony tail. Jobelsoni, a heavy-set man with dark black hair took a pack of bologna, contraband among fleet soldiers, out of his pocket, ate it, then dropped the packaging and the ration tube in his coffee.

    Jenson sat with his fists clenched. He had been released by Lieutenant Soel with a probationary warning. He squeezed his tube with overpowering force, crumpling it into a stick. Much of the contents became stuck in the furrows beneath his lower lip. He sat next to Private Nicholson, whose smooth skin aggravated him. Jenson speculated that the minimum age for voluntary service in the Lieutenant¡¯s platoons was twenty-one, yet this boy looked as if he had just turned seventeen. Nick pursed lips together as the blond officer brooded and nervously watched the stocky soldiers finish their food until Jenson exploded.

    ¡°You probably think your big stuff. A real hero, ehh Private!¡±

    ¡°Come on, Jenson,¡± came from the opposite end of the table, ¡°Cut the kid some slack. He was only trying to keep you under control.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of it!¡± Jenson yelled, refocusing his fury. ¡°Do you think you can do my job!? Hey, look at me when I talk to you private. Do you think you can do my job!? Is that what you¡¯re trying to prove!?¡±

    Jenson banged the table, the echo ended conversations throughout the entire cafeteria. Everyone focused on the head table, waiting for Lieutenant Soel to make a move. The lieutenant stared at his men with demeaning silence yet refused to intervene. The general atmosphere soon restored itself, so Jenson continued his verbal assault.

    ¡°Then prove it. Hit me right here, right now. Prove to me you¡¯re a man.¡±

    ¡°I apologize sir. I did what I had to do.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re no man, you don¡¯t even look like a man. You¡¯re nothin¡¯ but a worthless rat out for recognition; even from mercenary scum. You¡¯re an embarrassment to my squad.¡±

    Fade had recommended Nick for a valor award. According to Fade¡¯s report, Nick had saved everybody¡¯s life. Jenson put his arms on the table and resumed conversation with the others in a somewhat more subdued, yet grumbling tone.

    "I¡¯m sick of goofing off in this mercenary wreck. When are we going to see some action?¡±

    ¡°Enjoy the down time while you can,¡± said Jobelsoni, the heavyset navigator who had downed the bologna.

    ¡°I wonder what we¡¯re doing this time?¡± Nick asked.

    ¡°Shut it baby face. No one wants to hear from you.¡±

    Nick had enough and went to stand up but Jobelsoni and another private held the shoulders down, bringing the conversation to its conclusion.

    Lieutenant Soel ate with his officers; he had been offered the same fare as everyone else. Two empty white tubes lay on top of Soel¡¯s napkin. The officer next to him forced down the coffee, one tilt and one gulp to finish it; then an unsatisfactory grimace. The chemicals in the hot black water would do their job, that was all that mattered. The junior lieutenant to his left slowly sipped his coffee between sucking the contents of his tube. The other officers had finished the rations, but the mud like coffee was another matter. Everyone expected more.

    ¡°I have a few packs of mint flavored N-rations,¡± Soel said, ¡°I think the flavor supplement would be well worth it at this moment. Does anybody care for them?¡±

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Two men took him up on the offer.

    ¡°I had my own food,¡± said the staff lieutenant, finishing a peanut butter sandwich.

    ¡°Sir, do you think we should file a complaint to fleet headquarters?¡± asked the officer to Soel¡¯s right.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll have a talk with the captain first.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡± said the staff lieutenant, standing.

    ¡°Stay here, Lieutenant Forgisom.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± he said, sitting down.

    Lieutenant Soel found Ace leaning against the cutlery table when he entered the kitchen.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the captain,¡± he demanded. ¡°This is outrageous. I can¡¯t expect my men to remain fit on tube rations. What is the meaning of this? Why is the Imminent Destruction not stocked with real food?¡±

    ¡°The captain isn¡¯t in any condition to prepare us a feast,¡± Ace said, ¡°I think we can make do with what has been provided. If you want to complain, at least wait until he¡¯s healed.¡±

    ¡°This is what happens when you rely on mercenaries. They¡¯re sloppy, or in this case, downright treasonous. I hope you¡¯re not going soft Captain Herr.¡±

    Lieutenant Soel stood by the door with posture like a redwood, ¡°The ability of foreign agents to infiltrate this vessel will be investigated. We can¡¯t allow this independent battle corp. to continue undercutting the authority of the imperial military.¡±

    ¡°The Independent Battle Corp. is the Imperial Military right now,¡± Ace said.

    ¡°No, they are contractors, but not much longer, hopefully.¡±

    Back in the cafeteria, the men stood at attention by their seats until the lieutenant marched them out, single file.

    -----

    Karen paced across the bridge. The body of Carlos stared at the ceiling with a gaping mouth as a puddle of cold blood congealed under its back. Karen turned pale every time she glanced at him, yet every few minutes she would glance again, then turn her head as if ready to vomit. Luckily there was no odor yet. She wanted to leave the bridge long ago, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to go past the bloody corpse. Bert checked the software that guided the Imminent Destruction¡¯s destination, pushing Horace to give more energy for propulsion.

    ¡°Will he receive a decent burial?¡± Karen asked.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be put to pasture. Look, I can¡¯t get the droids working, and messin¡¯ with corpses is not in my job description. If you don¡¯t like him there, pick him up and put him somewhere else.¡±

    She sat down and stared blankly at the control panel. Bert found her behavior a little odd for a front line reporter.

    ¡°What ya usually report on?¡± he asked, ¡°Kindergarten festivities?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to take this from you. I¡¯m a rising star in the world of journalism. Everyone in the galaxy is going to know my name.¡±

    ¡°Then get used to the blood. You¡¯ll be seeing a lot more.¡±

    ¡°If the captain was awake, he¡¯d make you clean him.¡±

    ¡°You just keep on tellin¡¯ yourself that. I¡¯m a mechanic, not a grave robber.¡±

    Karen shivered, she didn¡¯t know where to look, or where to go.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t ya calm down and have a cigarette?¡± Bert asked.

    A little drawer popped open, he took two cigarettes out and threw one to her. She accepted reluctantly.

    ¡°I really prefer not to.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Bert twisted the filter on his cigarette slightly; it lit with a dull, smoking glow. ¡°To light these ya just squeeze the filter and twist a bit.¡±

    She did as instructed, coughing, gagging and choking before inhaling too deeply. She threw the burning cigarette on the floor, smashing it under her heel.

    ¡°That¡¯s a Selfish Man Cigarette ya just wasted, they cost me twelve Haricons a piece. Is that the thanks I get for tryin¡¯ to be nice?¡±

    ¡°You really ought to quit. Those things aren¡¯t good for you anyway. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve changed the ingredients for thousands of years.¡±

    ¡°Why fix it if ain¡¯t broken. I was kinda hoping you¡¯d give it back. I can smoke two at once, specially when I¡¯m stealin¡¯ a kiss.¡±

    ¡°Some people have advanced beyond using chemicals to alter their mind. And smoking a cigarette I had in my mouth is unsanitary, though I wouldn¡¯t hesitate to say it¡¯s more sanitary than smoking one that came from yours.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d pay you to put them between your lips before I smoked¡¯em.¡± Bert chuckled, ¡°Listen, everything ya put in your mouth is a chemical, and they all alter you in some way or other. Horace, can you watch this girl while I see if I can¡¯t get the casualty disposal units workin¡¯ before she hurls?¡±

    ¡°Maybe you actually can make yourself useful,¡± Karen said snidely.

    With Bert gone she put her head back and fell into a light sleep until a large, spider-like, machine crawled into the room. It had red eyes, and eight gleaming metal legs like scythes that tapped as it moved. It crawled over Carlos, whirring as it sucked and scraped at the sticky corpse. Straps fell, hooking the body to the robot¡¯s metallic belly. The droid banged its front leg twice when it finished securing the corpse. Karen looked back and screamed, jumping to the pilot¡¯s seat. The machine whined as it cleaned the blood, sucking up the cleaning solution before leaving. Bert entered later, all smiles.

    ¡°I bet I¡¯m your hero now,¡± he said.

    Three smacks and a knee to the groin sat him down, but he found himself having to slide to his knees and lean against the console.

    ¡°How dare you scare me like that,¡± Karen yelled, ¡°I could have had a heart attack, you stupid ape!¡±

    She left, leaving Bert to nurse his manhood until the pain subsided.

    ¡°Females, they¡¯re so damn pointless,¡±

    Since he was on the floor anyway, he decided to lay down and take a quick nap.

 18. Messages Across Time

    Horace shined a subtle light on Destiny¡¯s face when she awoke, allowing her eyes to adjust as the light slowly gained strength. She sat up and arched her stiff back only to realize she was naked. There wasn¡¯t even a blanket, and Horace¡¯s robotic instruments kept applying something warm and wet to her skin. One landed on her wrist, pressing it down before pulling back into the panel again. She felt the spot afterwards, but nothing was there, it didn¡¯t even feel moist.

    ¡°Horse radish, what are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Applying medication that absorbs through the skin. You¡¯ve three hours before the effects of the restriction device wear off. Your privacy has been assured by the force field screens around the bed, which can only be downed by orders of the captain or yourself. I know what you¡¯re thinking, he didn¡¯t watch or participate in the removal of your garments.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°You may sit if you like, but I must have full access to prevent tissue atrophy. Your situation was critical, and is still far from stable. After effects of restriction wave devices are unpredictable, without treatment, you could die at any moment.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t lay still without my clothes. This is barbaric! Can¡¯t I at least have a blanket or a sheet?¡±

    ¡°Sergeant Payson, the area is currently slightly warmer than room temperature. Also, I¡¯m a computer. I assure you I have no interest in your anatomy.¡± Two small rectangular sheets no bigger than paper ejected from the panel above. ¡°Use these to cover your reproductive areas if you¡¯ll feel more comfortable. When I¡¯m finished, a fresh uniform will be provided.¡±

    ¡°This is humiliating!¡± she yelled, kicking her legs in the air.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be forced to anesthetize you if continue this dangerous behavior.¡±

    She laid down and closed her eyes while using the towels to cover her midsection and her chest. A velvet streak formed across the center of her face, from ear to ear, even though the screened encasement around her bed was complete, a lowered wall.

    ¡°You better not lower that force field until I¡¯m dressed Horace. I¡¯ll scramble your system if you dare.¡±

    ¡°I cannot fear for my prospects. But you can always program me to not take action in the event this happens again, even though you might not survive.¡±

    A faint headache resonated from Destiny¡¯s lower neck like a light drumming on the top of her spine, forcing intense pain into her skull. She squeezed her temples. Something wet pushed the back of her neck. Horace chided her to remain still; when it withdrew, the pain was gone.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The medicine weakens the current without causing conflict in your nervous system. I won¡¯t let your blood vessels restrict for long. You just have to cooperate.¡±

    -----

    Fade awoke. A clean bandage lined with cell restorative on the inside wrapped gently over his shoulder. The restorative had almost closed the wound. A repaired trench coat hung on a nearby wall, he checked to make sure his gun was properly holstered inside before pulling it on. Through the screen he saw only a slight shadow of the bed, until Destiny jumped upwards, revealing her silhouette and those of the little towels that flew into the air.

    ¡°You perverted machine! Get your probes off me!¡±

    ¡°I have to work over any location of poor blood flow Miss Payson. And I do not possess fingers, only mechanical probes.¡±

    ¡°You better let Horace finish,¡± Fade called, ¡°He won¡¯t bite, you should know that, you¡¯re his new programmer, after all.¡±

    Like a leaf in the wind, Destiny pulled the towels from the floor and jumped back in bed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make you pay for this. This is completely wrong.¡±

    ¡°Nobody¡¯s watching. Think of it as taking a long bath. Haven¡¯t you ever taken one before?¡±

    ¡°This machine won¡¯t stop touching me. It feels weird.¡±

    "You should have thought about that before you stuck your nose where it didn¡¯t belong. I have to go now, so good luck for the next few hours. Horace will get you your clothes when he¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t leave me here alone!¡±

    Fade smirked, ¡°You¡¯re not alone, you have Horace.¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    -----

    Winds from the north, powerful gusts, brought snowfall to the open tundra. The temperature plummeted to fifty three degrees below zero, and a layer of snow half a meter deep accumulated around the Cozy Tavern. Paul scraped frozen slush off his roof, which was applying tremendous pressure to the composite fiberboard beams and their insulation. When he finished, the shingles had only icy remains, but towards the steel ladder on the left side of the house it had already accumulated a full two centimeters. The ladder vibrated against the brown clay of the side walls as he descended.

    With the last jump, his boots buried themselves in thick white powder. He walked into a small cold workroom, dumping his plush coat inside a plastic basket, ripping off his boots and throwing them on top of the pile before pounding loose the caked ice on his jeans. The green oval rug warmed his stocking feet as he felt a blast of warm air from the registers; the heater was working. The standard model phone with white monitor had a floating device and body chemistry sensors which allowed it to follow its owner during a call. He dialed the console. A young man appeared on the screen.

    ¡°Hakkut Fleet Control Center, please state your name, and the purpose of your call.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Paul Payson, my daughter is stationed on the Imminent Destruction. Her name is Destiny Payson. Can I please talk to her?¡±

    ¡°Sir, if you can hold a moment, I¡¯ll put you on with our personnel manager.¡±

    Soft music played from the background while advertisements for chewing gum and life insurance crowded the telephone¡¯s video screen. Paul sat in his big green arm chair, tapping his fingers on the worn rests as the screen hovered in front of him. The penned note he found on the refrigerator last morning was stuck on the right arm of his chair. She was off to make it big in the galaxy. He turned on the television set. It fired up at channel forty-nine. A debate about the war with two men arguing about how to best counter the Buldethian strength philosophy broadcast. He turned channels until he received a live war update. The media reported from a permanent studio inside the recently recommissioned Imperial mother ship, the Dorian.

    ¡°.....think hostilities will begin?¡± A woman from the studio asked questions of a field correspondent on the media observation deck of the Dorian. A boxy Rigor 5a fighter passed by the windows; its elongated snout shone in the mother ship¡¯s light. The fighter¡¯s primary wings created an X shape extending from the hull.

    ¡°Hostilities could literally begin at any moment. In fact, the fleet has already opened fire on Buldethian recon patrols. One enemy ship has already been destroyed. That has been confirmed by Spokesman Shou of the Dorian¡¯s crew. As of now the Main fleets are keeping themselves safely out of cannon range, even the Dorian¡¯s main gun could scarcely touch the enemy fleet at this range. We have not seen any missiles or torpedoes yet, either from Buldethian fleet or from the Dorian, but word from fleet command is that this battle will be finished quickly, and victoriously.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure no homing missiles have been used?¡± asked the studio woman.

    ¡°No, there are no reports of missile launches of any kind, at least not yet.¡±

    ¡°Is the Dorian well protected? How many other warships are in the fleet?¡±

    "Most of the Independent battle corp. has arrived, with the exception of the Imminent Destruction. Though Reports received from Shou indicate the mercenary cruiser will arrive shortly. There was speculation that it was destroyed by a pirate raiding party, but those early reports have proven unreliable. The Imminent Destruction, though it has suffered a severe downgrade of its offensive capabilities, has not surrendered to the pirate fleet as we reported earlier; indeed, the outnumbered cruiser has shown tremendous fortitude in battle by eliminating a larger, more agile force after being caught in an ambush. Nobody knows if the pirates were conducting a routine raid, or if they were organized by the enemy, but this will be investigated after matters here settle down.¡±

    A uniformed gentleman handed the military correspondent a paper. He examined it quickly.

    ¡°This just in. The Imminent Destruction has jumped in a few thousand kilometers behind the fleet and is currently joining formation. I have received word that the damage suffered while engaged with the renegade pirates is superficial in nature. This will make a total of five cruisers to support the mother ship.¡±

    The music on the phone stopped; Paul muted the television leaving the questioning studio anchor to open her mouth in silence.

    ¡°Hello, this is Ed from personnel, who¡¯s on the line?¡±

    Ed spoke from a cubicle office among a jungle of them, many of which were empty. He had to type reports while listening to callers on his headphones.

    ¡°This is Paul Payson, my daughter is on the Imminent Destruction. I need to speak with her. She could be a crew member, but she could be unauthorized as of yet. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°One second, I need to check the database,¡±

    Paul heard typing over the phone.

    ¡°We¡¯re having trouble with our Tachyon generator. If the Imminent Destruction has jumped from the region, it may not be plausible to send communications. However our receiver is still functional, we¡¯ll check for incoming messages. How old is your daughter?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s only twenty years old, why?¡±

    ¡°Her service is not illegal; in case you wish to have her returned home. The minimum age of sixteen for military service also applies to mercenaries. There¡¯s a communication from the Imminent Destruction, it¡¯s a video log mailing. It¡¯s already been wired to your phone. Don¡¯t you know how to receive mailings?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, an oversight on my part,¡± Paul said, hanging up.

    He scrolled through a short list of neglected messages until he found one from the Imminent Destruction. The coordinates indicated some empty region of space between Hakkut and the battle sector. He selected it. No video registered, simply a black screen with a white line across it and Fade¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Paul, Destiny¡¯s with me. She snuck aboard of her own free will and demonstrated some skill with our computer system. She insisted on being a part of the crew, and I had no choice but to comply or keep her locked up in a prison cell. I¡¯ll try to convince her this was a mistake. On that note, she¡¯s undergoing intensive combat training, nothing lethal. I¡¯ll have her get in touch with you when she¡¯s ready. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t let anything happen. Signing off.¡±

    ¡°You better not.¡±

    Paul sunk into his arm chair as the line faded from the screen.

 19. Combat Prep

    The weapons systems needed to be cleaned for combat preparation. It was an automated process, Bert typed in the code for each weapon and selected the preferred cleaning method, though the lettering for the disabled cannon was grayed out. In deep space, the best selection was the laser cleaning, a low powered beam would be fired to smooth out the inside of the barrel, after which a laser would cut away any melted slag or clear any condensation that remained. The center screen displayed system commands still active during cleaning, mainly the secondary laser guns. As for the other systems, the remaining torpedoes were ready for manual operation, the green bars indicated that the shields were at full output, the engine fired nicely, and life support operated unhindered.

    Fade examined a holographic map that kept track of the fleet. At a much smaller scale, the icons become realistic models. The Dorian, over seventeen times the size of the Imminent Destruction, dominated the picture. The formation was so tight that the Dorian¡¯s silver hull filled main visual screen. The Dorian had a short frontage spike topped by a series of triangular metal plates that curved over the vessel¡¯s elliptical body. Lights over the hull of the mother-ship released sparkles of purplish glow, the primary imperial color. The Imminent Destruction drifted too close to the Dorian, so Horace announced a course correction and Fade confirmed it.

    The tap of feet conducted from the metal hall grew successively louder. Bert looked back casually to see Destiny enter through his good eye, the one not yet blackened. She turned Fade¡¯s seat around while he was working, and slapped him so hard the crack echoed through the control room.

    ¡°Sure is a lot of that going on around here of late,¡± Bert muttered.

    ¡°What was that for?¡±

    ¡°The absolute humiliation I had to endure for the past hour.¡±

    ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for your humiliation, you¡¯d be dead.¡±

    ¡°I know that, but I had to get it out of my system.¡±

    ¡°Can I put my hand down your shirt?¡± Bert asked, ¡°I need to get it out of my system.¡±

    ¡°You jerk!¡± she assaulted the other side of Fade¡¯s face with an equally forceful slap.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even say anything, slap Bert.¡±

    ¡°Then tell him to keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself too. I want to be alone for a while, don¡¯t even think of bothering me.¡±

    ¡°Not if you were the last woman alive,¡± Fade rubbed his cheek.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re being a bit too hard on her.¡±

    Bert grabbed a new cigarette from his storage bin.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°I¡¯m hard on her?¡± Fade said in disbelief, ¡°Get back to work.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Bert then muttered under his breath. ¡°Nobody round here preciates my pinion, just kicked round all the time.¡±

    ¡°Bert, I could care less. Are we ready to join the fleet?¡±

    ¡°Ready as we¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    ¡°Make the safety announcements. I¡¯ll contact General Dispaer¡¯s office. Make sure the bridge hatch is locked. If she¡¯s dumb enough to slap me in the middle of a battle I might forget myself and fight back.¡±

    -----

    Thirty-two infantry enhancement vessels (IEV), stood ready in the Imminent Destruction¡¯s launching bay. Lieutenant Soel¡¯s storm troopers sat within the upper torso of the seven-meter-tall humanoid vehicles. Their unprotected heads poked through a rubber-foam insulation that connected with their nervous system through chemicals and electrical currents. Inside, their bodies were curled up and packed in foam, but instead of feeling the limbs of their curled and protected bodies, they felt and controlled the limbs of the machine they were encased in.

    In the arms of each trooper was a helmet that sealed to the neck of the unit, covering the head of the operator. The IEV units were heavily armored with black insulated titanium, except for the rubber-coated, titanium joints of the arms and legs, where the advance hydraulics were housed. The Lieutenant, also neck deep into the torso of his unit, scanned his storm troopers with a thoughtful frown.

    Lieutenant Ontogi Soel¡¯s presence destroyed disorder and entropy; prominence and symmetry defined him. Thick black hair was cut uniformly short, and even the stubble on his chin stood in neat rows. The chest plate of his IEV featured a perched hawk squeezing a dead rodent within its sharp talons stamped into the center.

    He took the time to glare at each and every IEV operator; they might have been intimidated, but they knew better than to show a trace of it. His eyes were emperors. Some men use their size, but Lieutenant Soel uses his eyes.

    The mission briefing had been dispensed with an hour ago on the observation deck, so Lieutenant Soel took a quick glance at his wrist communicator. The coordinates of the Imminent Destruction and the Neimun, one of the Buldethian¡¯s signature ships, displayed on the screen. He launched into speech.

    ¡°I expect a few of you won¡¯t make it back,¡± Soel scanned the group, saw no negative reaction, continued. ¡°Good to see a determined group of men. It¡¯s a rare privilege to lead such. Our Imperial military machine has become soft. This brigade is the last stand of military discipline in a sea of mercenaries and conscripts. Consider yourselves lucky to be a part of it. I made you men, you who had the guts to volunteer for this elite brigade. You¡¯ll need to be as tough as metallic hydrogen for this battle. I expect results.

    ¡°Our leaders like to throw the term hero around. You know what heroes are? They¡¯re dead men, and dead men are worthless! When you survive this battle, you¡¯ll be more than a hero, you¡¯ll be a veteran! A veteran is a hell of a lot more useful than a hero, and you¡¯ll have something you can be proud of! I will never tolerate anyone who sullies the name of one of my veterans, so you can be the proudest damn soldiers alive! Do I make myself clear?!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± the men shouted in unison.

    ¡°Damn right! We move out as soon as the hatch opens. You can thank the navigator for volunteering to take point later.¡±

    Corporal Joblesoni pounded the mechanical fist of his activated IEV, the inside of which had to be specially designed for his above average girth, against its chest plate.

    ¡°We¡¯ll show those bulls some real strength,¡± Soel said, ¡°Helmets on!¡±

    The helmets of thirty-two units sealed onto their necks simultaneously. The view screens blacked out. Every operator would remain isolated and sensory deprived in their unit until the Lieutenant himself activated their systems.

    They could nap or think in pitch black silence until the time for combat arrived.

 20. First Imperial Interstellar

    The Haceetion Sector listed among the wastelands of the galaxy in every imperial map. Its Wom nebula dominated the region with the exception of the complete positive edge of its parameters. Hydrogen atoms pushed together into a super-heated mass at the Nebula¡¯s heart. Massive bursts occasionally broke free, escaping to heat other loose matter. Dust clouds and space rocks congealed in purple-orange bursts.

    Solid matter melted as it congealed, dust into meteors, meteors welding into asteroids. Everything slowly pulled together over eons for the hostile beginnings of a new creation. Three warp space anomalies within reasonable distances of each other made this isolated sector of space a valuable nexus. The detritus from destroyed space stations still drifted through the region.

    On the edges of the farthest particle clouds, practically untouched by the gravity of the forming star, the Dorian, flagship of Harnicor¡¯s first fleet, waited with the other cruisers. Its silvery hull gleamed over the entire two kilometer length. The edges of two 400 millimeter beam cannon, one on each side of the ship¡¯s front spike, extended from shielded encasements. Over five-hundred, ten-millimeter, laser guns crisscrossed the hull, lightly concealed under armor. Torpedo hatches lined the undercarriage. An oblong, armored compartment directly over the center of the ship¡¯s north hull concealed the main gun, the neutralizer.

    Like satellites, the secondary cruisers kept a tight formation around the Dorian. Besides the Imminent Destruction, the mercenary group included the Werner, the Kshatriya, the Hulk, and the Garter. The Werner, an advanced pirate design known as Red Heaven¡¯s Dragon, remained beneath the Dorian; the small red and black striped cruiser had a bubble shaped front and elongated back thrusters. No cannons could be seen on the Werner¡¯s surface, but significant portions of the bubbles were open to reveal the red tips of small missiles numbering in the hundreds.

    A massive, thickly armored, bull with threatening horns and bright shields emitting a golden glow snorted particles out its snout. The Kshatriya had a half kilometer long tail of flexible shielded titanium and carbon microfiber that whipped about as if flies itched its hide.

    The Garter was a standard X-380, almost the same designation as the Imminent Destruction. In show room condition, it sported a baby blue metallic paint that enhanced the glow of its light shields. Across the Garter¡¯s undercarriage was bikini clad pinup girl cradling a long gray torpedo. The pinup wore a time bomb garter belt, registering ten remaining seconds. Its titanium armor had been removed from around the bridge and replaced with a strong transparent polymer; anyone with a good telescope could see the crew.

    The Hulk had scarred metal across the hull. The damaged X-380 missed three cannons, only one had not been violently removed. Welded strips of insulated titanium panel concealed the damage; even the windows of the observation decks were covered. The one remaining particle gun listed like a stranger prepared to fight without hope. The cruiser had two working thrusters and two others visibly burnt out.

    The military had yet to reinforce the First Imperial Interstellar with regular cruisers or even destroyers. The only regular military escort consisted of two X23-type minesweepers, the Monitor and the Merrimack, and ten missile craft.

    One sweeper protected each side of the Dorian, each one forty meters long and ten meters wide. They were armed with mechanical whips that could extend up to a kilometer with surgical instruments designed to dispose of mines harmlessly; they also had two highly accurate, ten-millimeter laser cannons designed for a similar purpose. The Monitor, on the left side of the Dorian, had a patch in its hull, covering a gaping fissure in the lower left side of its diminutive bridge, and both its laser guns were soot stained; one of its mine clearing wires jammed, stuck about thirty centimeters from the ship¡¯s hull. The Merrimack fared a little better, but its left gun was covered in soot over its sleeve to indicate that the lasers gouged the barrel¡¯s insides when fired.

    Of the attack craft, five were automated boxes filled with light torpedoes; minimal drive systems made them quite slow. The other five were DXL82 patrollers, three armed with a fifty millimeter laser cannon and two more with an improvised 35mm gun that fired standard explosive cluster rounds.

    Ten Karvar space superiority fighters ran tight patrols around the Dorian, reentering their fighter bay often for needed adjustments. The V shaped Karvars were a poorly designed fighter manufactured in mass quantities for minimal cost. The cheap fusion fuel used to power them made installing deep space drive systems an exercise in futility. Their range of combat remained limited to within ten and a half kilometers from the Dorian¡¯s hull. Low powered laser guns extended from the pointed front of the crafts. The four missiles sat underneath, their cone shaped heads a passive blue.

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    A single Rigor 5a fighter maintained a five-kilometer distance from the Dorian¡¯s bridge, constantly circling near the windows for the media. The Rigor 5a, the now favored replacement for the Karvars, had a crystal shaped hull, and carried a payload of fifteen sardonic type missiles with atomic cores of isolated anti-matter that released with explosive results when the missile hit its target. Fifty of these fighters sat ready in the fighter bays of the Dorian, reinforced by two hundred Karvars.

    This was the muster of the First Imperial Interstellar.

    -----

    Curtains of royal purple draped the personal office of Fleet Admiral Igito Norima. Furniture of adorned cherry wood was bolted through the floor. Purple carpet had been dotted with specks of gold; not dye, but specks of melted gold ingrained within the fabric. Long sofas with arms that wove into delicate spirals decorated the walls to the front at the sides of the entrance. Each sofa kept the company of a coffee table with legs of elegantly carved grapevines. This grand lobby sat in the shadow of the admiral¡¯s long desk.

    A holographic portrait projecting from a golden disk displayed the figure of delicate man with thin, brittle fingers. He had brown hair combed to side, and a wide face. This was a representation of Guy Witherspoon, the holder of the undisputed, immemorial, title of Grand Senatorial Coordinator. While not on call, the holograph served as a reminder that everything would be recorded.

    Admiral Norima was a middle-aged man with tired features. Dark circles hung under his slightly bloodshot eyes, and his black hair grayed about the edges. His dark blue coat displayed a brief, yet impressive collection of awards, but he wore it loosely over a comfortable khaki shirt and navy blue pants. The admiral wore sneakers. This caused considerable apprehension among the advocates of proper military attire, even though Admiral Norima took the care to make sure their color matched his pants. He scanned the other officers as they arrived before pulling a portable computer from a desk drawer. The officers were, in order of rank, Vice Admiral Vanessa Fortali, Rear Admiral Mark Tenyson, and Major Russell Green from engineering.

    Admiral Norima sipped from a golden canteen labeled ¡°Coffee Only¡± in deeply etched letters. He then addressed his officers, moving to the front of his desk and revealing his sneakers. A magnified view of the enemy fleet flashed on screens that expanded outwards from opening walls, a different enemy ship and classification was displayed every minute. He remained silent, encouraging them to take five minutes to examine the visual feedback.

    ¡°Vice Admiral Fortali, Rear Admiral Tennyson, Major Green, you¡¯ve seen the visual feedback, the radar feedback, the heat maps, and the reconnaissance data. You have a good idea what we¡¯re up against, and I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ve studied all the data sent to your com systems. I want the truth, not garbage propaganda. Will a direct frontal assault work against this enemy? Vice Admiral, you first.¡±

    Tennyson was a sturdy man with a stiff upper lip. His blond hair was grayed only about the ears, but deep creases lined his forehead. He resisted an impulse to stare at the floor, yet couldn¡¯t hold back from stroking the stubble on his chin.

    ¡°Considering our unique position, in this situation, it might be among many uncertain options. What we probably need to do is scan the enemy fleet a few more times to better ascertain their strength.¡±

    ¡°The reconnaissance drones are all disabled,¡± Norima said, ¡°I have no craft capable of sneaking unnoticed into the enemy ranks, and our intelligence network has nothing of value on board any enemy vessel. So, I ask you, with what do I attempt to further reconnoiter the enemy fleet?¡±

    ¡°We should have...¡±

    ¡°Should have, would have, could have! The military is blinded by its pride in this old workhorse, and now we¡¯re stuck with the ultimate price. Come out and say what you¡¯re really thinking, Mark. I won¡¯t throw you in a cell for being a defeatist.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I tried to dodge this assignment because I knew it was suicide run from the start. Our only real option is to take the First Buldethian Interstellar down with us when the Dorian self-destructs.¡±

    ¡°I thought you had misread the situation and joined in hopes of victory and promotion. That was, quite revealing. You¡¯re a smarter man than I gave you credit for.¡±

    ¡°With all due respect, sir,¡± Rear Admiral Tennyson asked, ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I thought I could manage this until I became embroiled in it. Now I can¡¯t hope to survive it. As I see it, the only option is to explode the neutralizer cannon in the enemy¡¯s midst. We¡¯ll go down, but they¡¯ll all go with us. Hopefully, the empire will see the threat and start building defenses with the time we buy.¡±

    Vice Admiral Fortali stepped forward, ¡°Sir, I think we have a chance for victory. May I propose a plan?¡±

 21. First Buldethian Interstellar

    Vice Admiral Fortali¡¯s her dark olive eyes matched her dress greens with the golden epaulets. Fortali had a firm powerful gaze, both commanding and intimidating. Strangely unaware of her power, she had the ability to be intimidating or sincerely assuring depending on her attitude. Her glossy black hair hung limply a few centimeters past her shoulders. She kept her long bangs clipped above her ears with gold hairpins.

    ¡°Sir, suicide attacks should always be a last resort, if not a non-option. Despite the Buldethian advantage in numbers, there are hopeful signs. Fifteen of the Buldethian cruisers are of untried, non-utilitarian design. Our analysts have confirmed that it¡¯s doubtful they would hold against the stress of even minor battle damage. Six of the cruisers are light builds, designed for speed of manufacture and cost effectiveness; they¡¯re sturdy, but should be relatively easy to deal with.

    If the mercenary escort breaks away, destroys the weaker designs, and rejoins the fleet, it would eliminate half the enemy firepower with minimal effort. We¡¯ll use the main gun conservatively, establishing a primary kill zone forbidden to even friendly vessels, and a secondary kill zone to be used after the mercenary cruisers engage the Armageddon and draw it into that zone.

    With the Armageddon destroyed, the rest of the Buldethian Interstellar will disperse to regroup. In order to implement this strategy, we¡¯ll need the Imminent Destruction to delay its planned operations against the Neimun until after the Armageddon has been taken care of, assuming the Buldethians are willing to stick around.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re too slow,¡± Major Green said, ¡°How do we prevent the enemy from just keeping out of the neutralizer''s range?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where the Imminent Destruction and the Kshatriya come in. Those two cruisers are strong enough to hold their own against the Armageddon for a short time, and fast enough to lure it into the kill zone. The enemy might know about the range of our main gun, but they don¡¯t know about the extended range. We can lure them just into the edge of the kill zone. It¡¯ll work even if we damage the Armageddon enough to finish it off without the neutralizer.¡±

    ¡°Too bad,¡± Admiral Norima said, ¡°It might have worked if the Imminent Destruction wasn¡¯t designated for operations against the Neimun. Operations that I have no authority to overturn.¡±

    ¡°But we could neutralize the core of the enemy fleet without taking losses.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still going to implement your plan,¡± Norima said, ¡°but the Garter and the Kshatriya will have to go it alone.¡±

    We¡¯ll never get them from the Dorian¡¯s cover without the Imminent Destruction¡¯s participation. It¡¯s the core of the independent fleet. They¡¯ll follow Fade, regardless of their motivations. And the Buldethians, they¡¯ll chase him for the same reason.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Vice Admiral, but without disrupting the distortion shield generated by the Neimun, we can¡¯t even win with a suicide strike. This is crucial intelligence that can¡¯t be thrown away on hunch.¡±

    ¡°That shield is a decoy. I wouldn¡¯t suggest using the Imminent Destruction otherwise. The shield only protects the Neimun and vessels in extremely close proximity. It has little in the way of known offensive capability. We can afford to ignore it for a time.¡±

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t ignore any threat invulnerable to the neutralizer cannon. The infiltration of the Neimun will continue as planned. End of discussion.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir, though I submit my protest and declare that our chances of survival have been reduced to ten percent. The other mercenaries can¡¯t be depended on without Captain Defacto¡¯s leadership.¡±

    The admiral nodded stoically.

    ¡°Major Green, what¡¯s the condition of the Dorian¡¯s resource and repair situation?¡±

    The Major stood by the door and straightened his jacket, ¡°I¡¯ve said the same thing since I started here, and now you people decide to listen. These are the facts, most of our torpedoes are worthless, so my staff has cannibalized their propulsion systems to upgrade a select few Karvars into something half battle worthy. The explosives of the torpedoes we cannibalized were so degraded as to pose a threat to the safety of the crew and had to be disposed of immediately.

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    We have fifty-four torpedoes that might or might not function properly, and four capable of threatening this enemy. As for our fighters, half the Karvars won¡¯t fly because my crew cannibalized their parts to keep the Dorian in decent shape. Considering that the remaining Karvar models are flying coffins anyway, I feel for those pilots. It¡¯s better to simply hold them in reserve than force them to fly those things.¡±

    ¡°All the needs of the Dorian are met through Senatorial funding. Why would you have to cannibalize the fighters and the torpedoes?¡± asked Tennyson.

    ¡°The funding barely covers the cost of fuel, crew pay, and basic maintenance. The recent resource cost inflation means there¡¯s next to nothing left for part and vehicle acquisition. To cover the cost of major repairs, we have to ask for more money. Each request takes months to work through the system and is rarely approved, so we do the work in flight and take parts from the Karvars, or other non-critical systems.

    Trust me, those old fighters okay planet side but are a lost cause in space, we ought to take what parts we can and sell what¡¯s left as scrap metal. The Rigors are extraordinarily capable, but so expensive and take so long to build that we have precious few, fifty to be exact, including the one circling around the observation rooms to make the reporters feel safe.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re expected to do wonders,¡± Admiral Norima said, ¡°After a generation without a major challenge we¡¯re being thrown into battle against a numerically superior enemy with unknown abilities. And this flag ship¡¯s escort fleet is nothing more than an illusion.¡±

    Admiral Norima stared at the Buldethian cruisers as they interchanged on the screens and pounded his desk. Major Green walked to the desk and sniffed the tip of the gold canteen. There was a strong odor inside, but not from coffee. The Admiral snatched the canteen from the Major and pushed him away.

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern Major,¡± he put the gold canteen back on the desk, ¡°Major Green you may continue with your overseeing, I want all escape vehicles at full readiness, top priority. Vice Admiral Fortali, take command of the neutralization gun. Captain Tennyson, supervise the bridge. The Neimun must be captured and the remaining Buldethian fleet destroyed. Even if that means we sacrifice our lives in the process. Are you prepared?¡±

    They all saluted to affirm their preparation.

    ¡°Good, the rest of the crew should be given time to prepare as well. Do what you can, and I¡¯ll make an announcement later. Dismissed¡±

    -----

    The First Buldethian Interstellar Fleet kept its distance, especially the Neimun, which was over a kilometer long from its front bridge and observation area to the huge open thrusters that opened its back end. A thin dark ship, in deep space the Neimun would have been almost impossible to see but for the small lights that glimmered from its hull. The bowl shaped outer thruster casings shone a deep red as the Neimun slowed, remaining a few thousand kilometers behind the Armageddon, the Buldethian Comand Cruiser.

    The Interstellar combat group separated into four groups. Rectangular ships, each hiding a heavy cannon underneath a retracted compartment moved out thousands of kilometers to the left of the Armageddon. These cruisers were ancient beasts with circular missile openings in the front and back, eaten by rust and lime; no hatches closed them, so their sore festering lips screamed silently over multiple missile tongues. Three cubed cruisers followed the left group. Their extended panels for retractable cannon resembled tables; some were closed by metal plates, while others were exposed like the legs of a table without a top.

    Thousands of kilometers to the right of the Armageddon were spherical cruisers, all painted half red, half black; rounded panels revealed glassy holes. Fifty openings existed over the surface of each spherical cruiser. They were Argus class cruisers, in honor of the mythical monster with thousands of eyes. The Argus cruisers were joined by spiral cruisers, each resembling a stretched slinky with medium beam cannons lined over their coiled hulls. A destroyer with a hull shaped like two twisted bars of steel covered in spikes led the formation.

    Protecting the Armageddon in the center formation were three Cannon Sphere type cruisers. These cruisers were overloaded with a hodgepodge of non-retractable cannons, giving them the appearance of over used pin cushions. Five Zepher-432¡¯s, which were copycat designs of the Imperial X-380, circled within a hundred kilometers of the Armageddon¡¯s sides.

    Ten disc-shaped vessels warped in through a captured warp anomaly. Five joined the Armageddon¡¯s group while the others formed a line between the Armageddon and the Neimun. These vessels, resembling carriers, had flat surfaces almost a kilometer in diameter. This surface had retractable openings rimmed with a silvery metal, yet none large enough for any significant cannon. In the center of these disc carriers elevated nubs with clear panels revealed their bridge location.

    Masses of small, unarmed transport craft flew tight formations around the carriers. These transports moved at a dull pace. They were all Imperial craft captured during the initial rebellion, now painted in black and red instead of the white with the royal purple line. The only hint of Imperial color was from square generators that emitted a slight glow of subdued violet from where cannons had been formally.

    Black wasps, newly manufactured, single fifty millimeter beam cannon armed, attack craft circled both the Neimun and the Armageddon. Their propulsion systems jutted from the back of a one-man bridge like a wasp¡¯s abdomen. Each had a small missile on each of their thin wings. Numbering in the hundreds, they sped around dizzyingly to display a vigorous ability to change formations.

    This was the muster of the First Buldethian Interstellar.

 22. Judicatur

    The shards of the Imminent Destruction¡¯s damaged cannon were fully exposed to the enemy¡¯s view as it broke to the far-left flank of the Dorian.

    Bert ground his yellowed teeth against the filter of his cigarette as he watched a portion of the enemy fleet on magnified visual and scanned the numerous radar readings. Patrol data came in; the opposing fleets were only five minutes from being in meaningful firing range if they assumed full speed. The cigarette dropped. He forgot about it, then reached into his stash and twisted the filter of a new one.

    ¡°Never seen anything quite like it, damned if we¡¯re not screwed,¡± Bert said as a fresh cigarette dangled from his mouth.

    ¡°We can handle it,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Yah, sure we can.¡±

    The communications screen flashed. Admiral Norima dominated the screen while Commander Soel appeared in a box on the bottom left-hand corner. The Admiral spoke first, reading from his computer screen.

    ¡°Captain Defacto, you are to release the infiltration company within one kilometer of the Neimun, at approximately five hundred hours. The Neimun is numbered 324-100-005. You should recognize its unique shape easily. I¡¯m sending a picture to your projector,¡± A miniature holograph of the Neimun circled above the receiver. ¡°Be careful, the ship is well escorted by capable attack craft. Work with commander Soel to find a safe drop point. We don¡¯t have information on the type or location of the ship¡¯s guns, if any. Good luck Lieutenant Soel, Captain Defacto. Captain, your fellow mercenaries will engage the main fleet for a small time. Take advantage of any opening and get behind the lines. The operation starts when you get the green signal.¡±

    The Admiral¡¯s picture disappeared, leaving Soel to take over the screen.

    ¡°Commander,¡± Fade said, ¡°you know what to do. Get your troops to the dispatch bay.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already there. Display no cowardice, and you won¡¯t have to worry about my company.¡±

    The screen returned to basic radar and camera feeds.

    ¡°Real friendly fella, eh,¡± Bert said.

    The indicator light on Bert¡¯s side of the control panel represented orders from high command. The light was on yellow, which meant forward with caution. When it turned a greenish yellow, they could attack cautiously. Bert rubbed his index finger against the light to buff a scratch in the case.

    ¡°I think they¡¯re trying to get rid of us. Sounds like a suicide mission to me. Go in right up against an enemy mother-ship, that¡¯s bull. Whatever happened to the Dorian¡¯s main gun, and why do they need space infantry?¡±

    ¡°Did you read the briefing? The Neimun¡¯s more important than a mother-ship. Its main weapon is defensive, protecting most of the enemy fleet, so Soel¡¯s company might turn out to be the most important force in this battle.¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡± Bert asked

    ¡°Look at the superstructure. It couldn¡¯t hold a cannon worthy of a light destroyer.¡±

    "Could always be somethin'' we haven''t thought on."

    A green light flashed; that meant pursue their objective at all cost. Fade took hold of the steering mechanism.

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    ¡°We have a fix on the Neimun¡¯s location. Let¡¯s get there; full cloaking, and ready the special countermeasure.¡±

    -----

    Black rectangular banners hung in the chambers of the secondary controller stationed on the Neimun. They depicted the rifle and blade crisscrossed in front of a dark red blot representing a planet called Ranack. The tightly woven dark red carpet matched the planet. In the forefront a black leather with an imposing back swiveled on its mounted platform. A video screen dominated the back wall. A black coat with sleeves adorned by four knife shaped pins hung from the chair; it indicated a rank of Controller. A cap with the same knives on its front slipped to the floor. Controller Sethin busied himself with one handed push-ups that moistened his red turtle neck, black pants, and even his boots. A podium materialized at the left side of the empty chair. Controller Sethin quickly smoothed his thick wet hair, replaced his cap and coat, and activated the podium. The manager of the Neimun stood in the center of ten supporting officers. All wore the black and red uniforms.

    ¡°Controller,¡± said the Manager, ¡°We¡¯re maintaining a distance of fourteen thousand kilometer from the Dorian. The dark angels are on standby.¡±

    ¡°Hail to the Judicature,¡± Sethin said, ¡°Manager Martin, is the Neimun resonating high frequency alpha waves?¡±

    ¡°How did you know, sir?¡±

    ¡°How long, Manager Martin?¡±

    ¡°Since we dove into the Hacetion sector.¡±

    ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I informed immediately?¡±

    ¡°I received no warning, sir, and since there was no deleterious effect, I considered it of little importance. I didn¡¯t wish to disturb you with something so trivial.¡±

    ¡°You know anything abnormal is to be reported without delay. You¡¯re relieved of command until further notice, send me Major Hiram and return to your quarters.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. I apologize for my mistake.¡±

    Hiram was a bit taller than Sethin, and had a short beard of deep red.

    ¡°Major Hiram. You¡¯re appointed temporary Manager of this vessel. Your first assignment is to relay a sample chart of the signals we¡¯re resonating to Ranack. Afterwards you may see me personally about your authority badge. If you perform exceptionally; I may prefer to see you as Martin¡¯s replacement. You may have the honor of initiating the first phase of our attack. Do it now.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. Hail to the Judicature.¡±

    -----

    On the planet Ranack, in a comfortable chamber, the Judicature sat in counsel. Supreme Judge Morrison was a young man with straight black hair parted down the center, and combed to the back. He spoke through a thin mustache with wedges of separated hair like a comb¡¯s teeth.

    ¡°I have received word that the Neimun is resonating. You all know what that means.¡±

    Dreck Hammon had smiling eyes and an easy manner, and he spoke with a soft slow voice full of authority and purpose.

    ¡°The crystal takes priority over the battle. If we dominate the entire galaxy, yet hold none or few of the crystals, then our power isn¡¯t secure. The Spirit Guild has had a hundred-year head start, and may already possess a number of them. They also have the knowledge to recreate a destroyed crystal, something we have tried in vain to copy.¡±

    ¡°Once we get the first crystal,¡± Judge Gebrel said, stroking his bald dome as he salivated, ¡°We can start the experiments and learn how to use its powers.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have more control over creation than the Harn senate ever imagined,¡± Judge Georgeson smiled.

    ¡°If the Spirit Guild doesn¡¯t get them first,¡± Judge Hammon said with a sigh.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Georgeson said, ¡°they don¡¯t know that we know.¡±

    ¡°Not yet.¡±

    Judge Hammon sat as Supreme Judge Morrison rose, glanced across the tables, and tiredly began.

    ¡°The signal has been received, though the coordinates are still general. The northern hemisphere of Hakkut, near the edge of the temperate belt, is our target area. This planet should fall into our hands within the next few days. Our course of action is rather obvious. This crystal must not fall into other hands.

    My father theorized that advanced artificial intelligence could mimic the brain of a seeker type and catch the unique signals of each crystal, as is happening on the Neimun. As for their powers, there is no information as to what they are, but my father¡¯s notes indicate the crystals themselves may have a way of conveying that knowledge to their owner.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s divert the first legion,¡± Gebrel suggested, ¡°their loyalty to the Judicature is beyond reproach. What do you think, Supreme Judge?¡±

    ¡°Perfect,¡± Morrison said, ¡°Once we get the first crystal, we can analyze its powers. If we can¡¯t utilize it, we can keep it from the Spirit Guild at the very least.¡±

 23. Die Dorian

    The compartments of the Buldethian disc cruisers opened, releasing hundreds of fighters that gathered in three beehive formations before moving for the Dorian from separate angles. The Dark Angel fighters were dark and simplistic in design, a triangular shape with two thrusters slanting outwards from the back. They swarmed from their disc shaped carriers, and soon over a thousand formed three trails.

    Two formations of red wasp attack craft merged with the fighters; the four missiles every red wasp carried had depictions of knives on their tips; written on their blades was ¡°Die Dorian.¡± As they closed the distance, they fired laser blasts of bright red; explosions rocked the Dorian¡¯s bottom, its right side, then multiplied to encompass the ship; blue waves formed as the shield activated.

    -----

    The Dorian¡¯s labyrinthine bridge became a madhouse, personnel rushed to their positions; mapping, coordinating, graphing, plotting, and surveying the attacking fleet. Vice Admiral Fortali frantically discussed the situation with Major Green. Her tone turned angry and she became unaware of her volume, yet Green stood firm and kept deadpan. She quieted as Admiral Norima moved forward and even pushed them aside as they saluted.

    ¡°No time for formality,¡± Norima said, ¡°Vice Admiral Fortali, have the mercenaries contacted personally. Tell them to protect our flanks and backside. The cannons are useless against fighters, but we¡¯ll pick off everything that approaches from the front with our lasers guns. If the Hulk throws a repulsion wave on the left flank our light guns should handle the rest. All our fighters should take positions on the right flank. Where¡¯s the Rear Admiral?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right here sir,¡± Tennyson jumped from his chair and pulled up his hat before saluting the Admiral. ¡°They¡¯re approaching with anti-cruiser missiles. It appears the Buldethians think they can avoid the disintegration ray by pounding us with long-range fighters and assault craft. I say we devote at least fifty percent energy to the shields.¡±

    ¡°Rear Admiral Tennyson, I want new orders sent to the cruisers, everyone but the Hulk will engage enemy fighters on the right flank. I¡¯ll communicate with the Hulk¡¯s captain myself. Hurry it up, these fighters will begin wearing down our shields in four minutes.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    The screens depicting the Dorian¡¯s hull showed portions in yellow. The yellow expanded across the map as portions of red grew near the center. The floor trembled with the shock of minor impacts.

    ¡°Admiral, the pulse radiation shields are failing completely!¡± said the young man posted at the map. ¡°I¡¯m activating the light shields.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± asked Fortali, jumping into her chair to access her computer. To her left and thirty centimeters lower sat the Rear Admiral.

    ¡°Something¡¯s jamming the signal. I¡¯m trying to locate the source but it¡¯ll be a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°One minute ensign, we don¡¯t have longer than that,¡± Fortali said.

    ¡°The light shields are losing power! They¡¯re useless against these missiles,¡± said another.

    ¡°Admiral Norima,¡± called another, ¡°Enemy fighters have jumped behind us. It appears they¡¯ve used some kind of short range WSA we were unaware of.¡±

    ¡°Contact the mercenaries, now! Activate all lasers. Let¡¯s get moving,¡± Norima picked up the intercom, ¡°All fighters, dispatch to right flank now.¡±

    The radar officer noticed a discrepancy, she reported it quickly.

    ¡°Sir, the Hulk, Kshatriya, and the Garter are retreating. Wait! Now they¡¯re slowing, taking position five thousand kilometers behind us.¡±

    The communications officer hailed the other ships through his headset between calls from the fighters and the attack craft. He put the earphones down in order to yell information.

    ¡°Fighters are reporting heavy losses, three laser guns have been destroyed. Unable to make contact with our torpedo ships, believed to be destroyed. No response from the mercenary cruisers, should we try the Imminent Destruction?¡±

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    ¡°No!¡± Norima yelled, ¡°That is not an option.¡±

    Admiral Norima turned on Rear Admiral Tennyson, almost assaulted him.

    ¡°Why is the Independent Battle Corp. retreating, what did you tell them?!?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t accept our signal, even the Werner.¡±

    ¡°Get me a position on the Werner. Divert all energy to the shields and laser guns.¡±

    The Werner occupied the right flank, its retractable gun fired passively at the Buldethian fighters and hit few targets. Rigor-5a fighters tore into a dark angel formation. A few of the Buldethian fighters exploded into red flumes. The space around them lit dimly for a moment before only floating space junk remained.

    The efforts of fifty Rigor-5a fighters relieved the right flank of the Dorian with assistance from the one hundred remaining Karvar types. Laser fire from the Dorian forced the more aggressive Dark Angels to reestablish distance and open themselves to the Rigors. One audacious Rigor pilot tormented an enemy by letting him chase, then he turned a loop and fired upon his former pursuer from the rear.

    When a Karvar pilot tried to imitate the maneuver, his fighter snapped in half with a fair-sized plume of gasses. Imperial pilots soon discovered they could not penetrate a Dark Angel shield without at least two direct hits, even the laser shots from the Dorian required at least one direct hit on the engine. They also discovered their vessels had inferior protection. As for the Karvar types, a tap from the enemy¡¯s wing could destroy them. The Dark Angels edged closer through superior technology and numbers. They saved their missiles for use against the Dorian¡¯s laser cannons.

    Admiral Fortali watched the devastation on the numerous screens at the front of the bridge. The green flecks on the radar screen were disappearing, despite the most conservative defense tactics imaginable.

    ¡°Admiral, I¡¯ve located the source of the shield interruption,¡± Fortali said, ¡°The Buldethian gun ships are using a coded frequency that is exhausting the generators.¡±

    ¡°Disrupt the frequency. The generators give off gamma rays, right? Contact the engine room and tell them to amplify the effect. That should correct it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    -----

    Buldethian red-wasps launched a missile assault against the Dorian¡¯s thrusters, but the missiles were absorbed by newly resurgent pulse radiation shields.

    Meanwhile, the Monitor launched a counter assault against the frustrated red-wasps. They dispersed as it charged, but the Monitor hit one of them head on, disabling its engine. At point blank range the Monitor¡¯s cannons fired, ripping through a small portion of the red-wasp¡¯s armor and weakening its shields. Yet the immobilized red-wasp continued firing at the Dorian in defiance of the minesweeper¡¯s attack. After ten shots the Monitor¡¯s cannons melted through their centers. A pack of five black wings took the initiative before the disarmed minesweeper could retreat.

    The Monitor¡¯s captain lowered his cap to salute the Dorian one last time as the air rushed out of the bridge.

    The Buldethian Cruisers waited while staying out of range of the Dorian¡¯s main gun. They held their fire.

    From the Neimun, the controller of the fleet grimaced at his screen as he watched the Dorian¡¯s pulse radiation shields reactivate. Still, it was only a minor setback. Everything else went according to plan.

    A barrage of long-range homing torpedoes fired from openings in the square ships at twice the speed of sound. The first few hit the Dorian in the left side center, where the shields were worn from nonstop barrages of the Wasps and Dark Angels. They couldn¡¯t hold the torpedoes, tiny explosions spewed from a gash in the Dorian¡¯s silver hull. A charred, twisted chasm now sucked life from the massive ship¡¯s side.

    A Buldethian pilot watched as unprotected members of the Dorian¡¯s crew died from exposure to the vacuum of space.

    -----

    ¡°All countermeasures are jammed from the last attack,¡± yelled Major Green. ¡°We need to seal the breach! Another batch is incoming, redirect the shields.¡±

    Tennyson activated a new protocol, readying the Dorian¡¯s torpedoes. The intercom was stolen by Norima.

    ¡°Request to all fighter pilots, if it can fly, get it out of here. Whatever heroics you have in mind are approved. The empire will honor you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s suicide,¡± said Tennyson.

    ¡°It¡¯s suicide if we don¡¯t. We need time to maneuver, and we won¡¯t get it if our pilots won¡¯t put themselves in the path of those next five torpedoes.¡±

    ¡°Green, how would you use our torpedoes?¡± asked the captain.

    ¡°A single barrage. It will confuse them, or at least make them cautious. Any other way and they¡¯re useless.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking.¡±

    A torpedo exploded in front of the ship The silver hull cracked and discolored. Yet the Dorian still moved with the grace and poise that its beauty suggested. Half destroyed fighters flew to her protection, crashing themselves into the enemy homing torpedoes. The Dorian had a chance to control the damage and take evasive action. Now it could respond with the fifty torpedoes in its arsenal, only four of which had homing capacity. The circular hatches of the tubes opened, releasing one swift barrage. The torpedo counterassault sent two spherical cruisers crashing into one another; their sides were smashed in by the impact and their shields died.

    The Dorian¡¯s precious few homing torpedoes were aimed at the Armageddon, but the Armageddon¡¯s anti-torpedo missiles destroyed all four projectiles. The Werner continued firing the occasional volley at the enemy craft, which ignored it while furiously attacking the Dorian. The Werner¡¯s accuracy against enemy fighters was atrocious; it hit once out of every fifty shots.

    The other mercenary cruisers remained distant, motionless relative to the Dorian, their guns silent.

 24. The Neimun

    The Imminent Destruction moved slowly, approaching the Buldethian fleet from the right. Its four guns poised to fire. The name of the cruiser was written in bold red letters across the hull. A Buldethian spiral cruiser kept its flat edge towards the Imminent Destruction¡¯s front. It joined a cannon sphere and a Zepher-432, which moved to intercept the Imminent Destruction from the flank while the spiral cruiser engaged it from the front.

    They were as close as a hundred kilometers when the Zepher-432 managed a direct hit with its beam cannon. The Imminent Destruction disappeared completely and a volley of space mines flew at the three cruisers. The remains of a rigged radar beacon revealed the hoax once it was too late, it would have been harmless if left alone. The little mines had ridged rubber nodules over their surface. They spun and danced around the slowly retreating cruisers until one bumped against a hull.

    The resulting explosion set off a chain reaction that spread the three cruisers into early oblivion. Their wreckage littered the far right side of the Buldethian formation. The real Imminent Destruction with the gaping crater melted into the left side circled the battle area while avoiding enemy cruisers otherwise trained on the Dorian. It cloaked itself from enemy radar. It positioned itself only a hundred kilometers behind the Neimun before slowly closing the distance.

    The Imminent Destruction carefully zigzagged within six kilometers of the Neimun¡¯s thrust capacitor to avoid letting the Neimun¡¯s escort, a squadron of red wasps and about fifty dark angel fighters, get a visual. The Neimun had veered even farther behind the main fleets, and the Imminent Destruction was exceptionally hard to see, as it was using a distortion field to offset its visibility; unfortunately, the power drainage from both cloaking and distortion meant it could be done for only few minutes maximum.

    The communications screen activated, it was commander Soel.

    ¡°Captain, I have to disclose to you some of our intent for this mission. We¡¯re storming the Neimun in an effort to divide and confuse the enemy command structure. Once we enter the hull we will wrest control of the ship from her crew. Do not fire upon the Neimun. We want to capture her in working condition. The approach from the Imminent Destruction poses the most risk to my forces. Ace Herr and yourself will be providing cover. Do your best to keep the enemy away from my men. Good luck, mercenary. You¡¯ll need it.¡±

    ¡°Get your suits ready,¡¯ Fade said, ¡°The hatch opens in five minutes.¡±

    Bert looked at the radar, red wasp escort ships were on the screen, but too far for a visual. A refitted Karvar with Buldethian markings passed them.

    ¡°Must be a punishment patrol,¡± Bert scoffed.

    ¡°What¡¯s our gun status?¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s good, cept for the upper left beam cannon, number four. Our lasers are at full power, they¡¯ll be able to hold off up to fifty fighters. All the regular mines are in order. Kitten helped Horace rework three old torpedoes, if you aim them at the Neimun¡¯s communications panels we should be able to cut her off from the rest of the enemy for a good twenty minutes.¡±

    Something in the security screen caught Bert¡¯s eye, ¡°Fade, what¡¯s Karen doing on the deck? Isn¡¯t she sposed to be confined to quarters?¡±

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    ¡°Hold that view,¡± Fade snapped.

    Karen was there, watching the Neimun. Its cold gray circular thrust capacitors filled the windows. A black scope extended from her eye. She spoke into a microphone extending from its center.

    ¡°What¡¯s that box she¡¯s holding?¡± Fade asked, taking a closer look at the screen. Bert recognized it instantly.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Radvox 300, portable video recorder. Instant play capacity, each one has its own wavelength. Ya gotta be pretty darn rich to own one of those babies.¡±

    ¡°Can they be traced?¡±

    ¡°No way, each one comes with its own advanced encrypted wavelength. Any attempt to receive transmission by uh... not the right person causes the wavelength to disrupt. Even Kitten couldn¡¯t intercept a Radvox transmission.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right, though there¡¯s nothing we can do about it now.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Kitten just walked in there too.¡±

    ¡°I could care less.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re talkin¡¯ about sometin.¡¯ Wanna listen?¡±

    ¡°I could care less!¡±

    The communication screen flashed with feed of Lieutenant Soel and Ace Herr. The seat of the Imminent Destruction¡¯s sole working Rigor 5a fighter was behind Ace, who chewed his lower lip. Lieutenant Soel stared into the screen.

    ¡°Can you disable the Neimun¡¯s communications without damaging the ship? I would like to avoid reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been planning to do so all along. It¡¯ll only buy us an hour at most. I can only hold the cloaking device for another minute. I suggest you jump out of there.¡±

    Ace spoke next as his fingers pulled at the steering rod.

    ¡°Good, we¡¯re ready then, I¡¯ll call if I need anything.¡±

    The whoosh of fighter bay depressurization registered.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move!¡± Soel yelled before his picture disappeared again.

    -----

    The IEV¡¯s held their ten millimeter laser guns astride their robotic arms as they formed three platoons around Lieutenant Soel¡¯s unit. The ion trail of the fusion powered thrusters pushed the tight circular formation towards its objective. A complete lack of resistance allowed the Lieutenant¡¯s company to fall toward their objective in an unbroken vector without utilizing directional control. Dark clouds of debris suddenly spread across the Neimun¡¯s back and midsection; the Imminent Destruction had opened fire with modified torpedoes. Gray smoke rose from the front sector of the Neimun before spreading into invisibility.

    Three dark angels and two modified Karvars rushed to engage the cruiser. The Neimun¡¯s small caliber guns opened fire. Ace injected himself into the enemy formation and two dark angels were immobilized by his missiles. The Buldethian Karvars cut through the IEV formations and fired their laser guns. Corporal Jobelsoni changed direction, took aim with his laser rifle, and blasted one through the center several times. Private Nicholson hit the second from behind while falling toward the Neimun, destroying its thrust systems. The remaining dark angel exploded into a puff of debris from the Imminent Destruction¡¯s cannon fire.

    A full color image of Fade flashed in the upper right hand corner of Soel¡¯s visual screen.

    ¡°All known communications systems on the Neimun have been temporarily disabled,¡± Fade said, ¡°You have about twenty minutes until they get back on line and they are coordinating fully, so make it snappy. I don¡¯t want to deal with half the Buldethian Fleet.¡±

    Soel signaled his men forward. Second Lieutenant Mito Forgisom was the first to land on the Neimun¡¯s hull. Lieutenant Soel landed behind him followed by the other formations. They spread out, looking for cover among the ducts and outer systems of the Neimun¡¯s rear compartments. Four thruster fins bulged out along the backside; the defenses were nil here, and the valleys provided cover.

    Mito¡¯s heat screen gained a consistent blue off of the Neimun¡¯s surface; the vessel¡¯s heat signatures were well shielded. The regular visual was also uninspiring, a consistently black metal surface, providing no relief for the eye. It was a bleak, lifeless metal terrain of endless insulation, with a dead geography of small canyons and plateaus. Even the light projected by the IEVs seemed to be absorbed in the darkness.

    ¡°I can¡¯t make out evidence of a hatch location sir. No light or radio frequencies,¡± one soldier reported.

    ¡°Move out,¡± Soel commanded, ¡°We don¡¯t have time to waste.¡±

 25. Forced Entry

    They made their way out of the thruster region as a group, treading across the thin plain, nothing attempted to resist them.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we go in through those thruster holes in the back?¡± asked Freidman, directing his communication to Nicholson. Squad leader Jensen intercepted it.

    ¡°All they¡¯d have to do is fire the engines. That would end us all, moron.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad we don¡¯t have dits like him in charge,¡± said Morgan, the third member of Jenson¡¯s squad. ¡°He¡¯s a moron, a total idiot. He¡¯s lucky his uncle instructs at the academy, or he¡¯d a been sent to the ditch diggin¡¯ brigades of some garrison. What a dope.¡±

    Nicholson became annoyed. ¡°Lighten up, Morgan.¡±

    ¡°Oh, big hero giving orders,¡± Jenson said, ¡°You think because some mercenary captain thinks you¡¯re a hot shot you can boss everybody around. Well, I¡¯m still the leader of this squad. And I won¡¯t stand for that. You¡¯re goin¡¯ nowhere fast Nick. I mean-¡±

    Soel intercepted the communication, then jammed it briefly.

    ¡°Squad three, cut the chatter.¡±

    Nicholson noticed a pattern in the hull formation, ¡°Squad leader, I see rounded patterns on this hull, possibly weapon mounts.¡±

    Jenson kept walking. Stretching the arms of his IEV as if giving a bored yawn. ¡°You have a lot to learn about strategy. If those were laser mounts, they¡¯d have opened fire already. That pattern is for wiring.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°No more unnecessary chatter,¡± Jenson said.

    Heavy energy beams from the central hull of the Neimun concentrated on the Imminent Destruction, which responded by dodging everything thrown at it. Its return volleys destroyed more enemy fighters instead of touching the Neimun. Freidman looked up and cheered, three others were caught in the spontaneity of the moment.

    ¡°Whooo hoo! Give it to ¡®em mercenary!¡± they yelled.

    Lieutenant Soel broke in with a general communication, said, ¡°If we can¡¯t find a personnel hatch soon we¡¯ll have to cut our way through.¡±

    They soon spotted a small a rear hatch with a rectangular viewing panel in the center, it created a slight hill amidst empty terrain.

    ¡°Get down and blend in,¡± Soel said, ¡°I need three units to reconnoiter the area¡¯s defenses before we try anything. Jensen, get out there.¡±

    ¡°Freidman, Nicholson, think you girls can handle it?¡± Jenson asked.

    ¡°More than you think,¡± Nicholson said.

    ¡°Sure, now get moving.¡±

    Freidman and Nicholson crawled out, exploring around the hatch. It looked to be a repair access that possibly led to the interior. The red line in the center indicated it would open by shrinking inwards.

    ¡°Nothing here commander, but the others found something.¡±

    ¡°What did they find?¡±

    ¡°Wait, these circular panels are more prevalent here. They seem suspicious,¡± Nicholson said.

    ¡°Private,¡± Jenson said, ¡°I already explained, they¡¯re not firing around the hatch here, are they?¡±

    ¡°No, sir, but couldn¡¯t they-¡±

    ¡°Why would anti-infantry laser be everywhere but the hatch, and why have they not opened fire?¡±

    Lieutenant Soel¡¯s picture appeared in Jenson¡¯s helmet. ¡°I have your communications reading on my screen, squad leader. What did Private Nicholson discover?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Explaining the basics to the new recruits, commander, you know how it is.¡±

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    ¡°Well, is it safe or isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°No resistance, and no evidence of any possible resistance, sir,¡± Jenson said.

    ¡°Almost too quiet; there should be anti-personnel defenses. It¡¯s possible they haven¡¯t discovered our intent. I¡¯m sending out three engineers to check those panels. Wouldn¡¯t want to walk into an ambush. Stand guard, and remain cautious.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    The engineers confirmed Jenson¡¯s opinion about the access panels before placing explosive packs with claws that penetrated and clamped over the panel¡¯s seals. The timers were synchronized via computer on the IEV wrist so the engineers would have a minute to clear the area. They gave the signal to move out as Jenson¡¯s squad kept guard.

    As the engineering squad moved back toward the rear of the ship, gun posts surrounding the IEV squads spun up from their panels. A particle beam hit an explosive pack, destroying all three engineers and their IEV¡¯s in the resulting explosion. The blast spread from the door, knocking Jenson side long and snapping two laser posts at their stems with his IEV. The remaining four IEV units formed a circular formation, returning fire to remove three additional laser mounts and particle gun. The surface of the Neimun suddenly burst with activity. Circular hatches opened from the hull to fire small silver canisters over the IEV units. They turned upside down to rain sharpened titanium shrapnel. The IEVs cowered under the deadly hail.

    ¡°Anti-personnel fire, get on your belly,¡± yelled Jenson.

    Privates Freidman and Morgan dropped to the ground. Nicholson pulled out a rifle, turning the remaining canisters around with its beams so they spewed their shrapnel into space. New launchers appeared, surrounding their position. It poured titanium shards. Freidman took a shard to his thruster pack. Jenson desperately searched for cover and huddled his unit under Morgan¡¯s. Lieutenant Soel took a shard to the mechanical portion of the arm while placing a grenade into one of his launchers; the blast spewed a straight stream of fire into the Neimun¡¯s atmosphere, like a miniature volcano.

    ¡°Trust your mobile unit, they won¡¯t let you down that easily,¡± Lieutenant Soel yelled over the announcement line, ¡°Forgisom, Jobelsoni, take the lead, get grenades inside those launchers. They¡¯ll fire forever if we don¡¯t put them out. Nicholson and I will give you cover.¡±

    Soel fired four times, turning two canisters. Nick turned five, which would have otherwise poured on Jenson and Morgan. Freidman rolled on his back, firing frantically at a canister that slowly fell toward his belly. He missed every time until it gently landed on his unit¡¯s torso, doing nothing. While Freidman remained paralyzed; Nick dodged a downpour, then fired, taking out three more canisters and a few laser guns before pitching a spare grenade to the navigator.

    ¡°You can make better use of this.¡±

    The rest of the group got their bearings together. They began knocking off canisters, pitching grenades into launchers, or taking on laser posts. The enemy fire slowed, then halted after Lieutenant Soel dispatched with the last launcher. It was impossible to see the blast marks from the grenades as they merged with the Neimun¡¯s color.

    ¡°Is everybody OK? I want a status report.¡±

    ¡°One I.E.V. has been compromised sir. Sergeant Narcis has a leak in the lower left appendage. It¡¯s the air recycler; he¡¯s losing pressure fast,¡± Second Lieutenant Forgisom reported.

    Sergeant Narcis clamped his leg with the suit¡¯s powerful arms as air hissed from the gap. An engineer rushed over, the tip of his welding gun glowed a brilliant blue.

    ¡°I¡¯ll close it, sir. But he¡¯s going to run out of air, and soon. His thrusters have also been compromised, if he moves suddenly he¡¯ll risk drifting from the ship.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, Lieutenant,¡± Narcis said.

    ¡°We need that hatch open, now,¡± Soel yelled, ¡°Get moving.¡±

    Jenson kicked the dud canister off the torso of Freidman¡¯s IEV.

    ¡°It¡¯s a blank you idiot, now get up.¡±

    The canister exploded behind them, spewing it¡¯s shrapnel in the other direction. Freidman shook his IEV¡¯s fist.

    ¡°I just saved your life, imagine if it would have exploded in front of your head,¡± Jenson said, ¡°Strike that, no great loss for you.¡±

    The outer door of the hatch had been partially compromised in the first explosion and was easily finished off with heat tools and rifle shots. They pushed the broken hatch door upwards with some effort not to detach it completely. The air lock was a wide-open cavern. Its bottom exposed the inner hatch. A computerized code machine by the entrance blinked red.

    ¡°Try the decoding card,¡± said an engineer, ¡°If that doesn¡¯t work, we¡¯ll have to force our way in.¡±

    Three engineers ventured inside, finding the locking panel. They placed the decoding card in a side slot; it beeped for a few minutes, then sent a destructive pulse into their key card. Soel¡¯s voice came scratchy and metallic through Lieutenant Forgisom¡¯s headset, a result more from the electron drive frequencies of the Neimun than enemy scrambling technology.

    ¡°Won¡¯t open. Blast it.¡±

    ¡°The decoding card was damaged by some type of protection software, our remaining engineers are at a loss,¡± Forgisom said.

    ¡°Have them blast it open, idiot! We need to get inside. They can speed weld the hole after we¡¯re in.¡±

    There was a long pause before the engineers rushed out, taking cover amongst the men. One held a detonator. He flicked open the protective case and pushed the red button. The disabled airlock flew outward. Air sucked away with a fury, pushing, and turning the battered hatch. Five men in black uniforms flew out of the chasm, dying of exposure. The suction soon subsided, allowing three IEVs to jump inside.

    The remaining crew members were grasping their necks. One by one they fainted, surrendering the air in their lungs. More IEVs entered the hole, spreading out as they went. The engineers pitched the bodies into space without a second thought to make room. Once everyone entered, they welded panels together to build an improvised hatch seal.

    ¡°Seems like they¡¯re sealing our tomb,¡± Jobelsoni said.

 26. Uncontested Advance

    ¡°I want the hundred-thirteenth to set up a defense perimeter. Lieutenant Forgisom, casualty report.¡±

    ¡°Private Narcis, IEV disabled, air pressure at one third. Sergeant Holmbur, KIA. Privates Kimoto and Hijasaki, also KIA. Thirty four men left total, including Narcis. The 113th platoon has no casualties.¡±

    The dark, dingy, and narrow space could barely contain the bulk of the IEVs and the narrow walkways proved difficult for the units to navigate. Extra space had to be found in the crags and pockets of the engine itself, positions that offered limited cover. A staircase of metal plates led downward, where the liquid tanks from the lower level gave an eerie blue light.

    ¡°Corporal Pitt, investigate the lower level.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir. Let¡¯s move out.¡±

    Three followed him into the depths, enemy corpses were stuck in the engines. A box of tools lay open at the side.

    ¡°Mechanics sir?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Pitt hailed Soel, ¡°Lieutenant, we have clear panels containing fusion liquid. I see some tools, mostly conversion rods, a few filters, electronic drilling rods. Someone was obviously working on these tanks. They could be unstable, and who knows what might happen in this depressurized state.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯ve breached the hydraulic fusion engines for the main thrusters, they do require routine maintenance. Be careful not to damage the inner workings, they¡¯re fairly delicate.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an entrance down here, we¡¯re going in.¡±

    ¡°Be careful, Corporal.¡±

    A breeze flew into the lower engine room as the hatch opened. Two men in oxygen suits took cover behind an overturned table; a drink machine glowed behind them. They fired frantically with kinetic weapons, hitting the walls, the floor, and the furniture. Hits were gained on the IEVs, but the low caliber laser pistols barely left a mark on their armor. When the power of the enemy pistols was depleted, Corporal Pitt charged in, slicing the table in half with a single swing of an energy whip.

    The enemies stood, placing their hands behind their heads. The captives wore badges on their sleeves and caps depicting a knife and wrench; they were identified as privates belonging to a maintenance unit. A room to the side was an engineer¡¯s lounge with no other exits. The ventilation shafts there were reinforced by titanium bars, so it was a perfect place to keep the new prisoners.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be helping your friends from here.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t hear you through the I.E.V. unless you turn the speaker on,¡± Pitt explained, ¡°Don¡¯t access it now, there¡¯s no need. Commander, we have two prisoners in the break room. We¡¯ll need to get some air in there though, they shut the ventilation to this sector down. What are your orders?¡±

    ¡°Send your men up for posting with other squads, you¡¯re on guard duty Corporal, if anyone escapes it¡¯s your hide. We¡¯ll be sending more your way once the situation stabilizes.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    -----

    In the upper section, the IEVs positioned themselves alongside the only hatchway. An engineer worked at the access panel, explosives ready. The other engineers put the final touches on the sealing of the outside hatch; they had removed much of the protective paneling from along the sides of the engine to create three layers of cover. Insulation material had been found in an emergency supply container and spread thickly in-between the metal seals.

    As soon as they secured the breach, the gray squared titanium panel into the longer sections of the Neimun opened. The engineer unit preparing the panel for decoding dodged backward as air refilled the sector. High-velocity projectiles dented an empty walkway before three robotic attackers rolled inwards on tracks. Lieutenant Soel and Forgisom retreated from their exposed positions while keeping the robots in check with suppressive fire.

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    An engineer unit moved from behind the door, locked its hands together and bashed one from the top. The robot took a huge dent over its navigation system. Then another engineer pulled out his laser rifle and fired directly into that same dent; it fell to the floor. Parts scattered. Nicholson and Morgan sprung from cover and dispatched the remaining robots with the same method.

    The company squeezed into the hundred-meter-long hall, one by one. Booths at the sides were for manually controlled weaponry. Colorful wall units held backup computers and control panels for antipersonnel launchers. The bright lights revealed no enemy presence. The next hatch beckoned. The IEVs advanced cautiously while the engineer units examined weapon structures. Lieutenant Soel¡¯s unit stood at the rear of the advancing formations. The unit of his staff officer, Mito Forgisom, was by his side.

    ¡°This is far too quiet, prepare for an ambush,¡± Soel warned, ¡°Advance cautiously. Don¡¯t crawl though, we don¡¯t want to give them too much time.¡±

    Five minutes of advancing and searching led them to another locked hatch. It was still quite cramped, an extremely narrow way for the vehicles. The units had to follow leap frog procedures in which one unit crouched while the other leapt past in order to advance. Corporal Edei was the first at the door, he summoned an engineer to get in front of him.

    ¡°We¡¯ve reached checkpoint two Commander. It¡¯s a communications station, should we move in?¡±

    ¡°Get the doors open and leap frog inside if you have to, we need it.¡±

    Another decoding card found itself crammed into the slot. This one worked perfectly. The hatch slid open with barely a sound. The room was lined with wall computers and occupied by gray suited men.

    ¡°Controller, we have been breached!¡± yelled a Buldethian officer into his microphone. ¡°Let us retreat. Please let us retreat. This station is worthless, please!¡±

    As the IEVs entered, the Buldethian officer jumped from his seat, throwing down his speakerphones. He fired a low caliber laser pistol at the black armor of an IEV. Squad leader Jenson dodged to the side. The hands of the hostile communications officer disintegrated in laser fire before he found himself kicked to the floor. Two officers rushed Jenson¡¯s IEV from behind; they were thrown back against their computers.

    Jenson snapped their necks like dried twigs. Another officer panicked and banged desperately on a shut hatch. Two IEVs used their suits for melee combat. The fists of the machines became covered with blood. The enemy communications officers that resisted lay with unspeakable wounds.

    A few others stared in amazement for a second, only to return to their work of sending calls for backup on random frequencies, but when rifles were pressed against their heads, they consented to putting their hands into the air. Titanium wire strap restrained their hands before they were taken to the back.

    ¡°Not a comfortable arrangement for the Buldeths, heh!¡± laughed one of the advance units of the 122nd platoon.

    Lights flashed over the Buldethian National Seal, which now displayed in the communications room instead of the code and frequency lists that had been active while the officers were working. The seal disappeared from the screen; horizontal lines replaced it with the stony face of the Neimun¡¯s Controller.

    ¡°Greetings Imperial Commander. I have to say you have done quite well with...¡±

    ¡°Commander Soel, the enemy¡¯s addressing our forces,¡± Lieutenant Forgisom said.

    Soel walked to the screen and opened the front panel of his helmet.

    ¡°We have your funeral prepared if you would be so bold as to continue. You see, the Dorian is disabled. It¡¯s only a matter of time until she is no more the central hub of the Imperial fleet. In fact, the 1st Imperial fleet will soon be finished. Now, to the matter of your surrender...¡±

    ¡°Turn it off, they¡¯re just desperate,¡± Soel said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll watch you slowly die. You prune eating turkey,¡± said a private known as Sawblade.

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± said an engineer, ¡°The frequency is locked from the main control room.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s end this the right way, sir,¡± Jenson said. ¡°By blasting his brains out!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an idea Corporal, let¡¯s move.¡±

    ¡°Wait, there¡¯s a room inside this short panel. A good starting point for an enemy ambush,¡± Private Diatsu said.

    ¡°Well, Check it out.¡±

    A large rectangular access panel was moved from the corner and propped on a red machine labeled insta-tool. The soldier opened the torso hatch on his IEV, slid out, and then slid inside the opening on his belly armed with a combination laser-projectile pistol.

    ¡°It¡¯s empty,¡± Private Diatsu said into his headset, ¡°but there¡¯s engineer access to the wires. We might be able to override some stuff, maybe even get the communications working for us.¡±

    ¡°Good, get out of there and let Sergeant Norwaki handle it,¡± Soel said, ¡°We¡¯ll have Norwaki and Narcis trade vehicles.¡±

    The hatch into the next hall wouldn¡¯t budge until Norwaki contacted Soel.

    ¡°Sir, I discovered a list of door codes. We can override the security locks from this point on.¡±

    ¡°Very Good, saves on explosives and scrambling cards. Jobelsoni, Ericson, Komito, Garo, Fumasa, secure this area. Medved, stay and see if you can help get this equipment working. I want advanced communications ability early on. The 113th and everybody else here will follow me, keep your suit communications active.¡±

    The hatch now opened without complaint, revealing a wider hall that was almost half a kilometer long. They passed weapon system controls, waste disposal air lock controls, turret rooms, and laser computers without resistance.

    Lieutenant Soel sped along with his men to the next door. The enhanced motion ability of the IEVs allowed them to hover centimeters off the floor now that there was space to do so. A few men tagged at the rear. They searched for resistance but received nothing.

    The next sealed compartment soon came in sight.

 27. Contested Advance

    The next sealed compartment soon came in sight.

    ¡°Don¡¯t open it! Assemble the blast machine cannon right here,¡± Soel said, indicating a spot ten meters back from the hatch.

    The men of the 113h platoon carried the blast machine cannon in unassembled units; the barrel hitched a ride with Lieutenant Soel. The rest of the 113th carried ammunition and other parts. Corporal Jenson drilled the heavy white tripod into the floor. Mito Forgisom attached the stem and movement controls until they slid along the tripod mount. The next batch of equipment was fire control and aiming systems.

    An engineer assisted Corporal Edei to attach wires and set the screens. Soel hooked the barrel adjuster, checked the trajectory and rotation of the gun. Its thick tube extended a meter from the stem. At the gunners end was a hatch for ammunition insertion. The barrel remained closed at the firing end; instead, a three-millimeter tube extended from the twenty-millimeter gun barrel. Corporal Hadashi hooked on the titanium guard plates, and placed a light shield system inside the stem.

    ¡°Private Nicholson, man the gun. Private Holmberg, you have the largest portion of ammo, you load,¡± Soel Commanded.

    Private Holmberg, more affectionately known as Sawblade, loaded a red canister in the barrel, shut the hatch, and turned the handle. Nicholson moved behind the armor plates, lining the sights with those of the IEV.

    ¡°Other units, Get to the side, or take cover now. Side unit¡¯s, get ready to throw grenades upon my orders.¡±

    Lieutenant Soel pulled Norwaki up on his communications screen.

    ¡°Norwaki, open the door in ten seconds,¡±

    Three units stood at the sides of the door. Five IEV¡¯s took cover behind the gun, ready to provide suppression fire. The others fell into reinforcement and guard positions along the hall. The hatch of the third compartment opened swiftly. Enemy crew members were hidden among a maze of improvised obstacles, and a line of heavy laser rifles rose to confront the cannon. Nicholson first saw a little heavyset officer who smiled cockily.

    The kinetic beam of the cannon burnt him into a crisp pile of ashes in a matter of milliseconds. In the ensuing ten seconds, Nicholson vaporized three more resisters; however, the Buldethians soon realized that the kinetic-beam was ineffective against inorganic matter. They lowered their profiles, returned fire from unpredictable areas, and sunk behind their obstacles for cover. Soel moved to launch an implosion grenade, but was prevented from doing so by proficient enemy fire.

    ¡°Switch to a sound pulse cartridge, we need those obstacles removed now.¡±

    The private adjusted the dial as Sawblade took a hit to the helmet during reloading.

    ¡°You all right?¡± Nicholson asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just shoot.¡±

    The pulse blast ripped holes in the enemy cover, but the enemy soldiers found the blasts easy to avoid. However, one hapless soldier had the flesh ripped from his bone, the price for holding his position in the face of a concentrated sound pulse. Nothing remained but a broken skeleton and a big red splotch against the back wall. Soel threw a regular grenade into the room as Nicholson switched back to a kinetic beam, only to find the cartridge was empty.

    ¡°Saw, another one.¡±

    ¡°Coming right up boss.¡±

    An enemy implosion grenade flew into the Imperial ranks, rolling under the machine cannon¡¯s tripod.

    ¡°Nicholson, Get back!¡± yelled Sawblade, jumping away. Nicholson dropped, picked up the grenade, and threw it back toward the enemy.

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    It activated in midair, not far from Nicholson¡¯s position. An intense gravity field developed.

    The barrel of the blast cannon twisted like pretzel dough, flying upwards and molding around the grenade.

    Its stem went next; the screws of its tripod stripped their threads as they pulled out of the floor.

    ¡°Get down,¡± yelled Soel as he threw another grenade into the enemy position.

    Nicholson couldn¡¯t get away. The suit bent toward the enlarging ball, then the IEV¡¯s left arm flew off and melted into the orange circle of metal. The frontal armor plates ripped off their heavy welding, then the hatch broke away to expose Nicholson¡¯s body to the gravitational pull. Nicholson used the full power of the suit to move backwards. Its feet dug into the bare metal floor as it resisted the vortex. Nick pulled out of the machine, leapfrogged to the back of the IEV despite the opposing pull, and sprung from the unit¡¯s backpack.

    A shoulder banged against the floor as Nick slid a full meter. The IEV shields continued resisting the implosion, even after its right leg came off. The inner walls of the Neimun bulged inward and ripped apart, broken pipes and long wires flew into the circle. Then it ended as quickly as it began, and the resulting metal orb crashed to the floor where the blast machine used to be.

    The remains of Private Nicholson¡¯s suit fell to the floor. Nick felt the splintered metal with bare hands. The entire front had been pulled out, the helmet was gone, and most of the nerve extension foam in the cockpit went with it; what remained was only loose patches.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t been lost in vain,¡± Nicholson pulled the ten-millimeter heavy laser gun from the back case, lifting it like a bazooka. He charged into the entrance of the enemy position, inflicting head shots on four defenders. One of the men threatened with an implosion grenade, but Lieutenant Soel shot his arm off at the elbow before it could be activated. Freidman, Mito, Sawblade, and Morgan rushed to help the now unprotected soldier as the remaining resistance took position behind a line of metal crates in the back of the room.

    Laser fire cut through Nick¡¯s stomach. Blood flowed from the gap to spread across his uniform. The private dropped the heavy rifle to cover the wounded gut with trembling hands before falling. Freidman jumped behind the crates, fired at a defender point blank, then proceeded to thrash the body.

    An enemy Sergeant tried to fire in the shrapnel dent at Freidman¡¯s backside while another soldier tried to hold back a slew of IEV¡¯s. Within moments the enemies had been cut through multiple times, until their remains resembled ground beef. Suddenly, sporadic laser fire came from behind. Corporal Edei took cover behind the dense metal ball that used to be a blast machine cannon and fired back.

    ¡°It¡¯s an ambush, where could they have been hiding?¡± Soel asked, he radioed the Corporal in charge of the rear guard. ¡°Corporal Fumasa, are you still holding the communications and engine area? Good, take your squad and clear my rear flank. I need to keep moving, get help from anyone stationed back there besides the prisoner guard, but only if you absolutely have to.¡±

    The map on the screen indicated they had taken the second communication room; the main control room was still two hundred and fifty meters of halls and subsystems away, which included the navigational center and a heavy weapons bridge. This communications room had screens also. They turned to the Buldethian National Seal, then, once again, to the Controller of Neimun.

    ¡°Well Commander, I see you¡¯ve made it past the hastily improvised defenses. They were only designed to wear you down. Better hurry, your engineers are having quite a bit of difficulty withholding my use of the backup communication systems. I¡¯m preparing a place for you and your men; may you rest in pieces. Remember, this is only the beginning.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t they know when to give up?¡± Jenson asked.

    Morgan felt a bit cocky, ¡°If you ask me, they haven¡¯t even got started yet, and we¡¯re more than half way to the control room.¡±

    A charred IEV hopped into the room. It was Private Garo. The armor of his unit¡¯s arm had melted in spots.

    ¡°Lieutenant, it¡¯s really bad. You passed an entire empty dock full of enemy mobile suits. We¡¯re facing fifteen suited defenders and anywhere from sixty to a hundred unsuited soldiers. They have a barricade about ten meters from the entrance and a stockpile of ammunition.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯d you come here to tell me that when you could have sent it over the suit¡¯s communications. You idiot, you could have been protecting our backside. I¡¯ll remember this!¡±

    ¡°But sir, I thought-¡±

    ¡°Thought nothing, take Corporal Edei and his men, they¡¯ll help organize a holding engagement. Hold them in that bay at all costs. I have to keep pushing for the main control room. Once I¡¯m there we¡¯ll open the fighter hatch and flush out the defenders without protective gear. That should ease the pressure.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    Soel smiled, that was actually good news, it meant this was less a trap and more of the case that they had caught the Neimun off guard; otherwise, the mobile units would have been protecting the central hubs instead of remaining tucked away in the docks.

 28. Final Ambush

    The 113th¡¯s medic leaned besides an ailing Nicholson.

    ¡°Sir, Private Nicholson is in bad shape. If we can reach the infirmary, I can fix the problem, but he¡¯s losing blood, so we need to find it fast.¡±

    ¡°Fill him with plasma treatment for now. I¡¯ll make his survival a priority.¡±

    Private Nicholson held a wet gauze dressing on the hole in the abdomen as the medic stuffed the back opening of the wound with sterile cloth. Nick winced as Soel knelt beside and raised an eyebrow while inspecting Nick¡¯s face.

    ¡°Private, your mission is to get through this injury, I¡¯ll see you¡¯re taken care of.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s lucky it went through his intestines,¡± said the medic, ¡°It could have pierced a vital organ.¡±

    The lieutenant stood.

    ¡°Come on, break¡¯s over!¡±

    Twelve units representing the 113th, two engineer units, and five from the 132nd made it through the next hatch two by two without squeezing. The entranceways were becoming larger as they progressed forward. Here, the Neimun was no longer a series of thin halls; in fact, they were invading a wide sleeping quarter. The walls were flanked by metal bunk beds with black iron trunks at their feet.

    Beds were empty and flat, sheets taut on the hard thin mattresses; lockers and bins were at the sides of every bunk. The left wall had a large opening into a combined kitchen and eating area; in which dirty pots and pans were stuffed into a container next to a decontamination washer. Morgan and Jenson advanced to the front of the line, checking the kitchen. Four men in white aprons sprung up from behind the long tables and pummeled Jenson with laser fire. Both IEVs fired back, killing them with little effort.

    ¡°If that¡¯s all they have left, we have nothing to worry about,¡± Jenson said.

    There was an open hall, a sign indicated that it led to the infirmary.

    ¡°Corporal Forinth, secure the infirmary,¡± Soel Commanded, ¡°Jenson, rejoin the main group.¡±

    The IEVs spread out across the living quarters without further resistance, finally reaching the navigation hatch. Sawblade opened it, encountering a lone attack droid. Everyone took cover as it fired a chemical spray that cut the nearby bunks in half, causing them to fall atop one another.

    ¡°Another ambush?¡± Jenson asked, ¡°Where do they get these guys?¡±

    As Jenson concentrated his fire on the droid, disabling its weapon systems, a dozen Buldethian crew members rolled out from underneath their beds. They fired at the IEV formation¡¯s rear. Corporal Forinth and his men came to the rescue, but ended up being overwhelmed by an enemy platoon from the infirmary. Laser fire flew freely, blackening the walls of the ship.

    The enemy, equipped with simple Kevlar suits of laser resistant material, opposed larger and better armored IEVs brazenly. Soel knelt to take aim and was hit directly in the head from a sniper weapon. His communications, visual and voice systems went inactive. He removed the helmet and took cover. Privates Diatsu and Mobuto took hits in the hand and leg, their units were limping before the surprise wore off and they finally took cover.

    ¡°Morgan take cover,¡± Jenson yelled, ¡°We have a sniper in back of us!¡±

    Soel recognized the cry of one of his men from afar, but there was nothing he could do. The 122nd¡¯s medic was bogged down in a corner behind a bin of clothing. He had lost his helmet. Corporal Forinth dove back and assaulted three men in hand-to-hand combat. One went down with a kick, the other took a chop to the head, and the third a punch through the stomach. The embattled medic fired, sending heated beams through enemy Kevlar. The remaining enemy fired back, blowing the medic¡¯s neck and shoulder open; his cry pierced the area. When Corporal Forinth finally reach the medic¡¯s unit he shuddered and stepped back.

    Soel picked off two attackers as sniper fire hit the bed frame in front of him. The lieutenant took the Helmut from his IEV and lifted it slightly above his cover, it was knocked backwards by fire from the kitchen. He crawled along the floor, peering from an insignificant crevice. The sniper was only half covered by the entrance into the kitchen. Soel sprang up and fired, blasting through the man¡¯s face, then he fell back to the floor, repeating the technique to avoid getting picked off because his head was exposed.

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    The forward IEVs were wearing down; they were scratched, drained, stained with blood, electricity flowed from torn wiring and damaged circuits, some even had holes in their armor. Still, they launched a hail of fire against the enemy, covering the floor with corpses. Lieutenant Soel stood and knocked off another two snipers before yelling his commands. The men tuned their units so they could hear his shouts.

    ¡°Hobart, Gunther, Samson, Diatsu, Momar advance to the rear and clear the kitchen. Everyone else fight your way into the navigation room.¡±

    Hobart and Gunther moved along the beds, leaving a grenade under each one. Blood splattered over the ground underneath two, a gristly confirmation of hidden enemies. Ten Buldethian soldiers attempted to charge up the stairway. Momar threw an implosion grenade in the middle of their formation; leaving an unrecognizable lump of flesh and metal. Lieutenant Soel took out five Buldethians from the navigation room with direct head shots, ducking against the wall after every hit.

    Another IEV unit dove beside him. ¡°Sir Private Komito reporting, I couldn¡¯t reach you on my communications panel. Sergeant Malfos is down. The enemy is trying to push out of the fighter bay. They¡¯re trying to retake the first communications room. We¡¯re talking about an enemy force of about forty men. Some have Space infantry protection suits, some mobile units. We¡¯re running low on ammo and unit power. The situation is critical.¡±

    ¡°Tell them to hold the doorway at all cost. Use implosion devices if necessary.  I¡¯ll have the fighter bay depressurized once I reach the control room. Now get back there and help them. Tell the remaining medical officer to get ready to rush his wounded into the infirmary. Privates Diatsu, Momar, and Mobuto can join you after clearing the bunk, and the dining area.¡±

    The men remaining with the lieutenant fought their way to the barricades around the control room. Corporal Jenson led the charge. His unit¡¯s hand blasted off from accurate laser rifle as he attacked a soldier. Another shot tore through the torso of the unit and blood oozed through the hole. Corporal Jenson¡¯s unit fell to the floor, writhing around in agony from the commands of the Corporal¡¯s nerve impulses. The 113th¡¯s medic, Corporal Jackson, entered at that moment, fully equipped. Soel commanded his attention.

    ¡°Get him out of here. He¡¯s delaying the entire mission.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, right away.¡±

    Corporal Jackson opened the damaged unit and slid Jenson¡¯s body from the vehicle¡¯s torso. Corporal Jenson¡¯s middle finger had detached at the joint, bleeding profusely; the severed end clung in the foam lining; he grasped the wound with his good hand, kicking and screaming. Ray and Mobuto pulled Jenson forcefully from the damaged IEV.

    ¡°How can a new recruit survive the loss of an IEV and still muster the balls to lead an attack, even taking a laser beam in the gut without flinching; when my most experienced and decorated squad leader risks the entire mission at a crucial moment over a wounded finger?!¡± Soel yelled, then he paused to calm himself before he issued further orders. ¡°The next room is the control room, then the officer¡¯s chambers. We have to breach their defenses here quickly. Because of the time wasted here, they¡¯re probably ready for us, so take cover and get ready for a counter assault. Norwaki open her up.¡±

    Private Freidman knelt in back of a line of metal boxes as he aimed the suits grenade launcher. Soel readied an implosion grenade. A minute later the hatch separated slowly. A four-millimeter beam cannon stood fortified behind bags of titanium chips laden with reactive substances. Soel threw the implosion grenade, but it did nothing more than suck a hunk of titanium chips into a dense molten pile. Its force was absorbed by the contents of the bags.

    The enemy cannon fired, tearing a hole through the belly of Freidman¡¯s IEV, though the beam was absorbed by the armor and the shields of the unit before affecting his flesh. Freidman fainted without firing another shot. Corporal Thegama jumped through the hole created by the implosion grenade and hacked the gun through with a laser whip.

    Sawblade¡¯s IEV took the initiative next, despite being hampered by dented metal, loose wires, leaking hydraulic lines, and a left hand missing a thumb and index finger. Morgan and Thegama followed close behind. Five enemy officers threw down their guns and simply surrendered.

    Upon seeing the final defense breached, Manager Hiram of the Neimun put his laser pistol in his mouth and fired. Blood and smoke came simultaneously from the wounded orifice.

    The controller was seated alone in his chambers. When the first units busted through the hatch they were faced only with his line of sentry guns. A dignified man with brilliant hair of silver spoke softly despite breathing fire through his eyes, it was none other than Judge Drek Hammon.

    ¡°When I say you have been given much, yet have disgraced the cause, I speak for the Judicature. You know what must be done.¡±

    The picture faded from the screen as Private Morgan dispatched the sentry guns. Controller Sethin moved down the steps as a man lost would wonder through thick woods. He put a pistol against his temple as Soel rushed past the sentry formation to tackle him, but the Lieutenant was too late. The controller fell in the same manner as Manager Hiram, his blood blending into the red carpet.

    The cap with the Buldethian emblem fell into the blood pool. It lay wilted. Soel kicked the body so it faced the ceiling. He tramped on the cap. Velvet liquid soaked into its cloth. A slow tormenting sound squished as the heel of the lieutenant¡¯s unit twisted it, crushing it into the carpet.

    ¡°Cowards take all the glory out of it. Well men, good job, the Neimen is captured!¡±

 29. Nicole

    Crimson stains clung to the walls and could be found scattered across the floor of the cold infirmary. Wounded enemy soldiers laid on beds far to the back; no one bothered to check them. Broken equipment sat piled against the middle of the wall. Stained sheets and pillows laid scattered across the floor. The few working lights flickered. Wires dangled from the ceiling; they moved like beheaded snakes as sparks flicked from their torn ends.

    Corporal Jackson carried Private Nicholson down the cratered stairway. He found the cleanest bed available before parking IEV so he could open the torso hatch and slide out. Blood soaked through heavy cotton in Nicholson¡¯s wound. Corporal Jackson cut a patch of her uniform away with a laser knife only to find three heavy t-shirts underneath. Along with the blood, they obstructed a clear view of the wound. When he finally cut all the bloody cloth away, he applied pressure against both sides of the puncture.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need so many layers of clothing,¡± Corporal Jackson said, ¡°They¡¯ll interfere with your unit¡¯s interface.¡±

    The latex of his gloves became covered in congealing crimson as he discovered yet another undershirt, thin and pasted against the body. He lifted it and ripped it away; the pieces dripped. The gaping wound had cut a hole straight through the body. It opened the abdomen, went through the muscles, the intestines, and out through the muscles of the back. Burns lined the edges of the interior but they hadn¡¯t cauterized the wound. The medic pressed down on the stomach. Gauze stuffing the wound would need to be removed.

    A syringe injected painkiller parallel to the wound. The punctured intestines and colon received flesh suture mesh to guide the cell restorative¡¯s properties. A thin tube of green liquid forced out the remaining bloody gauze that had been inserted to stem the blood loss. It shattered inside the wound. Reddish green bubbles spread with an excess of carbonation. Jackson welded flesh shut as it grew back over the outer edges.

    ¡°The cell restorative is working nicely. You¡¯ll have a nice decorative scar though. Do you prefer a swirl, or a helix?¡±

    Corporal Jackson wasn¡¯t joking, he had a degree of control over the shape of the scar. He felt around the rib cage, Nicholson grimaced. An x-ray screen from the side wall confirmed Jackson¡¯s suspicions.

    ¡°You have three broken ribs, both sides, probably caused from fall after escaping your unit. If I don¡¯t get cartilage injections in them, they¡¯ll take forever to mend. Now I¡¯ll have to realign them first. One wrong push and they¡¯ll stab your lungs. Let¡¯s get this shirt off so I can get to work.¡±

    Nick moved to sit up, but a sharp pain prevented the motion. A hand clasped around the doctor¡¯s wrist to prevent him from cutting the clothing.

    ¡°Stay still, don¡¯t interfere with your treatment.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you touch me until you promise not to tell anybody what I¡¯m about to tell you.¡±

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t promise that, but if it¡¯s something that¡¯ll affect my work you better tell me anyway.¡±

    Private Nicholson placed two fingers in her mouth and detached a voice altering device from its roof.

    ¡°That deepens the voice by an octave,¡± she said, holding the device in front of Corporal Jackson¡¯s eyes before placing it in his hand. Her voice softer and higher, still determined.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really a man.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s one I never heard before.¡±

    He carefully unbuttoned her uniform, lifted Nicholson slightly, and pulled it from under her back, throwing it on the floor. The tattered undershirts had to be cut upwards with scissors. When that was completed, Jackson found a tight wrap of gauze placing intense pressure on her breasts, serving to keep them completely unnoticeable. The medic blushed for a moment, his hands shook slightly. He gently pulled the gauze upwards, but stopped short of cutting it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be. How in the world did you ever pass the physical?¡±

    ¡°I was determined.¡±

    ¡°That wrap around your ribcage is pressing the broken edges of your ribs, possibly into vital organs. I have to cut it.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you set my ribs and give me the injections through the gauze?¡±

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    Mobuto yelled from the stairs. ¡°How¡¯s Nick doing?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a tough guy, he¡¯ll be fine,¡± Jackson said, then he whispered to Nicholson.

    ¡°I can¡¯t work with that thing pressing against your ribs, they¡¯ll never set. Give me a break, I¡¯m trying to save your life. I¡¯m a doctor, it¡¯s not anything I haven¡¯t seen a hundred times before.¡±

    Before the medic could cut, one of the wounded Buldethians sat up. He had a syringe, which he plunged into his neck. The genetic serum turned the soldier¡¯s skin gray as the flesh of his nose spit from the growth of a horn on his extending face. Jackson pulled a pistol from his belt and fired it as he ducked behind a support pillar. Nicholson lifted the hospital tray off the stand and used it as a shield as the rhinoceros morph charged. The force of the blow sent her behind her bed. Mobuto jumped down the steps in his IEV. The growing rhinoceros man charged him.

    A horn to his helmet knocked Mobuto over and he laid motionless. The enemy soldier experienced an overdose affect of the genetic serum and went into a frenzy. It charged into a wall and dented the superstructure with its horn as flesh continued to bulge and harden.

    Nick crawled on her stomach, took Mobuto¡¯s rifle, and crawled back behind the bed. The beast charged against a ceiling pillar ceiling pillar but failed to break it. Then it charged into Ray¡¯s unmanned IEV. Nick knelt but was unable to fire her weapon, barely able to breathe because of the squeezing pain clutching her chest. Pain pulled her to the floor, her lungs heaved; she stabbed herself with her own ribcage as she breathed. She unraveled the tightly wrapped white bandages to relieve the pressure.

    Then she retook the firing position, using the bed as cover. The insurgent Buldethian rhinoceros morph took a pinpoint shot to the eye which would cook what remained of its brain. The medic moved to the bed. Nicholson moved around to the back, hiding herself from view as the IEVs of Diatsu and Momar approached from the steps. Only her face could be seen. Her excessively sweaty hair stuck to her cheek as if it were stained with glue.

    ¡°I would have been dead for sure if you hadn¡¯t stopped it,¡± Corporal Jackson said.

    ¡°Mobuto, you all right?¡± Diatsu asked from the stairs. He saw the poorly morphed Buldethian soldier with smoke rising from an eye socket and grimaced, ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s disturbing.¡±

    Mobuto removed his helmet. ¡°He knocked my communications out, but we got him.¡±

    In order to prevent any further disruptions, the remaining wounded Buldethian crew resting towards the back were summarily executed.

    ¡°You three can go now,¡± Jackson commanded, ¡°Call me if there are any further wounded. I can¡¯t be distracted. Now go!¡±

    ¡°Yes Corporal,¡±

    Private Nicholson drug herself into the bed, covering her chest with her left arm. She had a strong yet slight build. Slowly she turned on her back.

    ¡°The first thing you¡¯ll need is a surgical cover. It may get crowded down here. I don¡¯t understand how you managed to manipulate your medical files.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡±

    The doctor pulled a light blue cover over her, folding it just above her navel. He pressed the ribcage, inserting needles through the skin. They penetrated into the flesh until he hooked a rib, gently pulling the injured bone into the proper position. He continued with X-ray scans, repeating the process until he was satisfied with the results.

    ¡°Your ribs are in place,¡± he said, ¡°After I give you the cartilage injections you must remain perfectly still for twenty-four hours. I¡¯ll be around to check the healing process from time to time. No problems here, once they¡¯ve mended it will be as if they had never been broken.¡±

    Corporal Jackson cut a hole in a piece of black cloth and placed it over her chest, moving the small hole over to the first injection site. He filled a needle with a viscous yellow substance from a large bottle.

    ¡°This is more difficult because I can''t risk injecting cartilage builder into your soft tissues. How in the world did you manage to get in the 113th? I mean- well, if someone else catches you, they¡¯ll report this before you¡¯re completely healed. It¡¯s against the commander¡¯s regulations, and I don¡¯t want to think about what he¡¯d do.¡±

    Corporal Jackson positioned his elbow upward, forcefully injecting the cartilage material, said, ¡°I¡¯d be a bit miffed if I¡¯d known you longer. I¡¯d appreciate an explanation of what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Nick is short Nicole. I always wanted to fight in one of the famous infiltration units, and by the time I signed up, this was the only unit still equipped with IEVs. Too expensive to maintain, I guess. I¡¯ve kept my hair fairly short, stayed aloof, avoided the group showers. I¡¯m supposed to need special chemical baths for a skin condition. They¡¯re horrible but they protect my cover.¡±

    ¡°What about those time¡¯s you grew some fuzz and the lieutenant yelled at you to shave?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t using any hormones.¡±

    She pulled a small circular gadget out of her pants pocket. It had a gray view window and some small metal buttons on the side, its display case blinked red. ¡°I can wear this and create minor holographic images, it helped at times. Think I broke it though.¡±

    Corporal Jackson finished with the injections, placing the needle on the tray. Both it and the glass bottle were empty, though little globules of sticky yellow slid down the sides of the glass.

    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± he covered her up to the neck with the blue sheet. She sat up, allowing it to fall without thinking.

    ¡°I need that gauze, and my uniform.¡±

    Corporal Jackson glanced around the room.

    ¡°Get down or your ribs will be forced out of place. You can¡¯t have that pressing against you for now.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll get them myself.¡±

    Corporal Jackson conceded by tossing her the gauze and the remains of her uniform. She rewrapped the gauze, though very gingerly. Then replaced her uniform, buttoning it as best she could, and fell to the bed with a determined stare directed at the ceiling. Corporal Jackson replaced her covers as his communication device activated.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting a call for help from the commander.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ve got all day.¡±

 30. The Finger

    Jenson came back to the infirmary on a portable gurney. Just behind him, suited men carried a Buldethian officer whose hands had been blown off. They clutched his feet and stubs tightly in their mechanical arms. Jenson¡¯s gurney went gently by the wall while the enemy officer with neatly cut stumps of burnt flesh tied by gray rubber tourniquets dropped unceremoniously to the floor. The unhanded man groaned and writhed. Corporal Jackson pulled the wounded Buldethian officer on the bed. The injured man waved his stubs with a yell of protest before going into a state of hyperventilation.

    Another noise overshadowed the enemy officer. Jenson awoke early from his drug induced sleep. He began screaming at the top of his lungs as he banged on the wall and kicked. Corporal Jackson rushed over to try an assist him onto a medical table but Jenson punched him in the gut. Mobuto¡¯s badly damaged IEV without the helmet came down to assist. Jenson pushed at the arm of the IEV with bestial power and sent Mobuto stumbling backwards.

    ¡°You have to relax,¡± Corporal Jackson said, ¡°Your finger is going to be fine, just stay calm.¡±

    The table took repeated poundings until Mobuto stabilized his stance and used his IEV to force his arms down.

    ¡°What¡¯s this guy on, he¡¯s resisting my mobile suit!¡±

    ¡°My finger! I want my finger. You bastards took my finger. It hurts! It hurts! It hurts, damn it! I can¡¯t take the pain! My arm! Let go of my arm!¡±

    The doctor pulled the now bluish finger from his pocket.

    ¡°I have your finger; we¡¯re going to reattach it.¡±

    Jenson pushed the IEV unit¡¯s arm away. Mobuto fell backwards; his unprotected head smacked against a pillar and he slumped unconscious. Jenson bounced up, hopped over the table, and wrapped his hands around the medic¡¯s neck ever tighter. The disembodied finger rolled under the bed as the doctor¡¯s face stiffened, more purple with each desperate gasp. A thud rang through the infirmary. An aluminum pipe hit Jenson¡¯s skull with all the force Nicholson could muster. The stranglehold on the medic released as Jenson turned around with a wild snarl.

    ¡°You asked for it private. Never interfere with me!¡±

    She retreated a few inches as Jenson released Corporal Jackson.

    ¡°You hit like a girl,¡± Jenson reached forward.

    Nicole dodged to the side as fingers swiped at the air. His forehead popped with wild veins. Muscles snapped as they bulged. A punch came for her face but she dodged underneath it and kicked upwards. The kick hit him in the chest; he didn¡¯t budge or even react. The metal pipe dented as it blocked his next punch. She slid backwards toward the wall. Before she could recover her stance, Jenson lunged forward to clutch her jaw. He lifted her body with ease so that her legs kicked at the air. A bloody, four-fingered, fist slammed her chest. Nicholson flew against the wall and slid down. She tried to pull herself upwards only to cough blood. Yet Jenson also dropped as he screamed and kicked in a sudden tantrum.

    ¡°My hand! Make it Stop!... Make It Stop! MAKE IT STOP! AAHHHH!¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Corporal Jackson jumped from behind a pillar to jab a short needle into Jenson¡¯s jugular. The thrashing calmed. Jenson went comatose. Drool bubbled out of his open mouth. Eyes rolled into the back of his head as lids blinked in rapid succession.

    ¡°Mobuto are you awake?¡± Corporal Jackson asked.

    Mobuto groaned, stood, and fled toward the kitchen. Jackson didn¡¯t have time to go after him or ask questions as he struggled to heft Jenson¡¯s body back on a medical table. The soldier laid completely limp. The combination of Vitrola and tranquilizers would tear his body apart from the inside. Jackson rummaged around until he found an intravenous drip. He¡¯d need stabilizing agents to keep Jenson alive. The finger had slid under the bed, so he placed it in a plastic bag of blue viscous regenerative liquid.

    ¡°Private Nicholson?¡± Corporal Jackson scanned the infirmary.

    Nicole huddled on the floor, shaking and grimacing; each attempt to move sent shock waves through her chest. She breathed heavily, wheezing, pulling at the gauze from under her uniform. Blood hung down her chin. Ray lifted the shirt without moving her and cut the gauze from underneath. Her labored breath continued; every movement caused her to shudder until she finally fainted. He gingerly moved her heaving body, lifting her gently to her bed. She sweat profusely. Her breath became a fading pant; each attempt took more effort as air whistled through her trachea. She coughed. More blood spurted past her pale lips and ran down the left side of her mouth. Broken whispers remained of her voice.

    ¡°My parents wanted me to be a fashion designer. I probably should have listened.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s your breathing?¡± he asked, coaxing her to lay straight.

    ¡°Painful, the left side isn¡¯t moving. When he smashed me with his fist, it felt like a sledge hammer. How did he get that kind of power?¡±

    ¡°Virtrolo.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak, I¡¯ll explain. It¡¯s one of the sensory drugs, usually absorbed directly through skin; enhances the senses and the nerves. Time seems to slow to a crawl for the user, awareness is heightened. Physical senses are increased almost eighty fold, including touch, hence pain.¡±

    ¡°Do they give strength?¡±

    ¡°The heightened nerve stimulation causes intense muscular build up during prolonged use, but the drugs eventually destroy the nervous system if used incorrectly.¡±

    ¡°Should be illegal.¡±

    ¡°They are.¡±

    He unbuttoned her uniform, allowing it to lay underneath her. She spit more blood, choking as Ray scanned her with the diagnostic screen.

    ¡°You have an injured lung and five additional broken ribs. The equipment here may be able to save you, but I have to work fast. It¡¯ll require surgery this time. I¡¯m sedating you now.¡±

    ¡°Do you think I blew my cover?¡±

    ¡°Hopefully not until you¡¯re better,¡± he jabbed a needle under her elbow. ¡°You should be more worried about your life.¡±

    When her eyes closed and her breathing calmed, he readied the computer for surgery. A laser powered scalpel was his only option. Before he could cut, a communication light activated on his unit¡¯s chest plate. He removed the microphone and ear pieces from his helmet and attached them to his neck plate because Lieutenant Soel used the Neimun¡¯s systems to contact him.

    ¡°How are Jenson and Nicholson?¡± Soel asked.

    ¡°Corporal Jenson attacked me, sir. Private Nicholson came to my aid but was wounded much more severely than before. I¡¯m operating on a badly damaged left lung. I suspect Corporal Jenson is a Vitrolo user.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Jenson now?¡±

    ¡°On a strong sedative, sir. But he needs to be securely detained and I have no time. Mobuto ran off. He probably took a concussion and is confused. I¡¯ll fill you in with further detail after I operate. I have to work fast.¡±

    ¡°Jackson, do your best,¡± Soel said, ¡°I¡¯ll send you some help to control Jenson. You see that Private Nicholson is taken care of.¡±

    ¡°Will do. I¡¯m proceeding with reconstructive surgery now. Send a medical aid, I need to get Jenson on an IV drip so the drug cocktails don¡¯t kill him.¡±

    A square opening was cut through the left ribcage. Small pieces of her blood coated ribs were removed with heavy tweezers. He placed them on a tray covered with gauze soon to be heavily stained with congealing blood.

    In the background, the wounded enemy officer raised cauterized stubs as he laid on his back. His groans served as an ambience while Jackson concentrated on the surgery.

 31. Destruction of Destruction

    The Neimun was successfully isolated. The Dorian¡¯s steady retreat had moved the battle further from their position. With the help of Ace, the Imminent Destruction dispatched with the remaining escort. The situation had devolved into guard duty. Bert fiddled with his cigarette while Fade sat with his feet propped on the controls.

    ¡°Sergeant Payson is still with that reportress.¡±

    Fade stretched his arms with a long yawn, ¡°Reportress?¡±

    ¡°A lady reporter,¡± Bert explained. ¡°If they have reporters I figure they gotta have reportresses too. Otherwise it wouldn¡¯t be fair. I¡¯ve been thinking it over.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re my best friend, but sometimes I do wander where you even came from.¡±

    ¡°From an old world, am I right!?¡± Bert slapped his lap and laughed.

    The radar screen blipped wildly as red specks appeared on its edges.

    ¡°Five vessels,¡± Bert explained, ¡°All over thirty thousand tons, approachin¡¯ from the rear, the southern left quadrant, and the northern left quadrant. Seems they¡¯ve finally come runnin¡¯ to get us.¡±

    One of the vessels was a black ship, long and thin; with mammoth hyper cannons extending from supports. Four Zepher class cruisers flanked the heavy cannon.

    ¡°Hostile missile lock detected on the front sector,¡± Horace warned.

    Fade launched the Imminent Destruction into a quick dive before releasing counter measures.

    ¡°Horace, deploy secondary cannons. Ready the shield depletion missiles.¡±

    The Imminent Destruction swerved. A volley of shield depletion missiles hit the main enemy cannon cruiser. The finisher immobilized the overgrown cannon, but the four Zepher class cruisers passed their crippled partner and advanced two by two. The front couple fired then alternated with the back. Fade sent the Imminent Destruction on a zigzag course that avoided enemy laser fire. The enemy dispersed in response. The Imminent Destruction passed the center of their positions. Suddenly Fade¡¯s Cruiser had its cannons aimed behind one. A scrambling field has the four cruisers firing on each other.

    The space dust of the Wom nebula reduced visibility and interfered with navigation. The Imminent Destruction maneuvered through the thicker dust fields and cloaked itself between releasing scrambling fields. The cruiser became a ghost maneuvering in and out of the enemy foundation faster than the Zepher¡¯s could keep up.  Soon, the enemy cruisers destroyed one of their own and damaged themselves in the process. The Imminent Destruction¡¯s beam cannons tore into the remaining cruisers, destroying them with one shot kills that disabled their shields and detonated a known flaw in the power systems.

    The Hyper cannon cruiser, though otherwise immobilized, turned to face the Imminent Destruction as it finished the last of the Zephyr class cruisers. It pulled space dust into its orbit. A bright blue glow signaled the overcharge of the cannon but Fade had finished with the other four too late. A hyper particle acceleration ray blew the shields away instantly before slicing through the Imminent Destruction¡¯s rear thrusters. A bright, reddish green light expanded between the fusion engines, which snapped apart like glass hit by a tornado. Hydrogen and helium escaped into space.

    The lighting in the bridge failed, everything went dark.

    ¡°Activate the emergency power.¡±

    The Horace bubble reappeared, a soft red light glowed from the edges of the walls, and the communications screen indicated readiness.

    ¡°Horace, what¡¯s our status?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°Complete shield failure. Oxygen and life containment system failure. Partial engine failure. Power reserves critical.¡±

    Bert shook his head, ¡°Damn that must¡¯ve been one powerful cannon!¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Get a location on Sergeant Payson and Miss Hughes,¡± Fade said, ¡°Keep gun three active as long as you can.¡±

    ¡°Shutting down non-critical systems. The sensors and visual equipment are compromised.  I¡¯m unable to locate missing crew.¡±

    ¡°I need one last maneuver Horace. Can she handle it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll destroy all engine viability if you do so, but it can be done.¡±

    Fade dove the Imminent Destruction into firing position. A beam aimed through the underside of the immobilized cannon cruiser. Once hit, the disabled Buldethian warship¡¯s thrusters and gravity control systems floated away from the main cannon. Fade picked up a communications headset. The view screen remained blank.

    ¡°Ace, you¡¯ll have to dock in the Neimun,¡± Fade said, hoping he could be heard. ¡°I¡¯m not able to open the fighter hatch.¡±

    He dialed a new code and spoke once again.

    ¡°Lieutenant Soel, I¡¯m afraid the Buldethians got a lucky shot. The Imminent Destruction is severely disabled. What¡¯s your progress?¡±

    Soel was able to hear him and return an answer at the very least.

    ¡°We¡¯ve secured the Neimun, but we need time to learn its operations. We¡¯re questioning the prisoners now. What¡¯s your damage?¡±

    -----

    Lieutenant Soel wore a communications headset as he listened to Fade while overseeing work on a radar unit. Sergeant Norwaki sighed as he finished his work, pulled out from underneath the radar compartment, and turned it on. The Neimun¡¯s radar showed the Imminent Destruction as a large green blip, appropriately labeled. The Lieutenant flipped a switch that changed the green dot into an infrared image. The hull of the cruiser was blue and purple, green flumes trailed from compromised thrusters.

    ¡°Look like particle acceleration beam damage. It ate through shields at near full power though, unbelievable. I¡¯ve never seen such a deadly technology. Yet it could have been avoided if you hadn¡¯t exposed your weak point. You thought you had dispatched with the heavy gun ship; that proved to be a fatal mistake. Now we have nothing to protect us if the Buldethians continue to send forces our way.¡±

    ¡°I failed. No excuses. Are you going to help me, or do you intend to let everyone here die?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you. It wouldn¡¯t be honorable to abandon one who fought so well, even if you are a mercenary scumbag.¡±

    Second Lieutenant Forgisom entered the cockpit, ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve reestablished communications and are now operating under Imperial code. It¡¯s safe to try and contact Admiral Norima of the main fleet. The Advanced radar is also on line, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Good work lieutenant. Secure the fighter bay. See if you can find anything useful.¡±

    Lieutenant Soel enhanced the radar holograph. The top left hand corner indicated a viewing field of over one hundred thousand cubed kilometers.

    ¡°Something¡¯s not right, here,¡± Lieutenant Soel muttered.

    ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± Fade asked

    ¡°The radar screen indicates that your fellow mercenaries are intentionally allowing enemy cruisers to pass directly underneath them! An explanation, Captain Defacto?!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t represent them, Lieutenant Soel, I could care less what they do.¡±

    ¡°Care less! They¡¯re throwing the battle. The Dorian is being decimated!¡±

    There was a moment of awkward silence.

    ¡°Was I involved? Would that have even happened if I wasn''t out here protecting a glorified survey ship? Seeing as you''re not generating a shield for the Dorian right now, that''s what it really is, isn''t it. A glorified fracking survey ship.¡±

    ¡°One can never know the result of a hypothetical. Give me thirty minutes to link with your ship Captain. For your crew if nothing else.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate what you¡¯re doing, sir.¡±

    As the communication closed Fade banged his fist on the console. He touched the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back toward Bert with a scowl.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you warn me that the cannon was still active!?¡±

    Bert pulled out his cigarette, ¡°Honestly didn¡¯t see it coming. I was focusin in on them Zephyrs as the main threat. I could have sworn it was completely immobilized.¡±

    He twisted the filter and took a deep drag, ¡°Not like it matters now. We gotta do what we gotta do.¡±

    ¡°I agree with the lieutenant¡¯s perspective Captain, recriminations benefit nobody. We should concentrate on evacuation protocol to the best of our abilities considering all the evacuation gear is expired by over five Harnicor rotations.¡±

    "Why didn''t you warn me Horace!"

    "I''m sorry Captain. All my combat resources were focused on the Zephyrs. I considered the cannon to have been completely immobilized. It used a cloaking to disguise that it could still rotate. This is completely my failure and I take full responsibility."

    "Aww, Horace, don''t be so hard on yourself," Bert said, "You did your best. You''ve never done anything less."

    Horace remained silent.

    "Bert, I need you to gather evacuation gear. Karen and Destiny were last observed in the observation deck. Status?¡±

    ¡°They are safe, vitals monitored. Oxygen levels are approaching critical in their sector. Gravity generation estimated to fail in five minutes. Atmospheric pressure in the observation deck decreasing.¡±

    ¡°Good thing we weren¡¯t transportin¡¯ landing infantry, am I right? Anyway, you keep things operational here. I¡¯ll take care of the rest. You can always count on good ole Bert Slemgut if a job needs doin¡¯.¡±

    Fade banged his head against the console.

    ¡°Captain, I do not recommend self-injury as a valid course of action in this or any case.¡±

    ¡°Shut up Horace.¡±

 32. Neutralization

    Admiral Norima sent personal communications to the Mercenaries, begging them to protect the Dorian¡¯s flank, but never received any response; he finally walked away from the communications panel in disgust.

    ¡°Fifteen minutes of wasted effort. We¡¯ve been stabbed in the back.¡±

    ¡°Enemy cruisers approaching at eight thousand kilometers.¡±

    ¡°Bring out the main gun! Full fire circle maneuver.¡±

    ¡°That maneuver will over heat the gun¡¯s power generator,¡± Vice Admiral Fortali said, ¡°If we must use the heavy weapons, we should use the beam cannons in combination with brief bursts of the neutralizer.¡±

    ¡°No, we need to destroy the fighters first. I¡¯m launching a mere feint into the enemy fleet; our main goal is to take down these enemy fighter swarms.¡±

    The main gun emerged from its compartment, shielded by a high potency electron field with a blue glow. The huge stubby cannon rotated on a tilting base extending only a few meters from the top of the Dorian. Its beam was a spotlight that disintegrated everything within its glare, but the great majority of the Buldethian fighters took refuge beneath the underside of the Dorian itself, the cannon¡¯s only permanent blind spot.

    ¡°Full shielding over the lower quadrant,¡± Fortali said, ¡°This is useless, withdraw the neutralizer. It wasn¡¯t designed for close range.¡±

    ¡°Turn the gun, full swing, now!¡± Norima ordered, yelling over Fortali.

    At close range, the dark angels were faster than the neutralization ray¡¯s swing. The cannon¡¯s backside received a hail of missile fire, causing the shield system to go colorless on the monitors. Pieces of armor flew from the cannon¡¯s outer casing. The crimping support structure glowed red from friction as the stabilization system failed. The cannon collapsed atop its rotation post, yet continued firing a stationary beam to the left.

    Fortali stood, her eyes remained closed as she yelled, ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish Igito. The neutralization cannon¡¯s core temperature is two thousand degrees, if this nonsense continues the gun will self-detonate. We can¡¯t continue firing, we need to withdraw it now!¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s our only hope,¡± said Norima, issuing orders from the computer panel on the arm of his seat. ¡°Advance into the enemy fleet, get as close as possible.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late for a suicide strike! They¡¯re too far away. We¡¯ll die in vain!¡±

    ¡°Rotate the cannon. They¡¯re avoiding it. Rotate the neutralization rays faster!¡±

    ¡°The stabilizer¡¯s crushed!¡± Fortali yelled almost in the admiral¡¯s ear, ¡°It can¡¯t move!¡±

    ¡°Get me Green!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing he can do,¡± Fortali whispered pleadingly, ¡°We don¡¯t have time to argue Admiral. We must withdraw the gun. Suicide isn¡¯t an option. We can still retreat to Sol under the cover of our remaining support units.¡±

    Norima became pale, ¡°We don¡¯t have any damned support units!¡±

    The last remaining fighters on the Dorian were sent to protect the ailing neutralization gun, five Karvars. They proved to be only a brief distraction, but by the time they had been cleared the Dorian had stopped stationary firing and began retracting the gun. Anti-fighter lasers previously held in reserve provided further cover, but they were destroyed one by one, without a single hit against the enemy.

    Admiral Norima pounded his fist.

    ¡°You have no authority to countermand my orders, and no right to tamper with my console! Why did you do that?¡±

    ¡°You were being unreasonable, sir,¡± she said calmly, ¡°The neutralization ray has become pointless and would have destroyed us all. The rest of the crew understands perfectly well.¡±

    She stared relentlessly into his eyes.

    Admiral Norima rose from his seat, ¡°I¡¯m going back to my quarters. From this point on Vice Admiral Vanessa Fortali is in charge of all operations. Apparently, I need some rest.¡±

    The crew watched as their admiral abandoned the control room. Vice Admiral Fortali stood and saluted him, everyone else followed. Then they returned to work. Rear Admiral Tennyson blinked, awe stricken.

    ¡°He can¡¯t find it in himself to issue the order to retreat. He¡¯s never had to do such a thing in his entire career.¡±

    ¡°Retreat, full speed,¡± Vice Admiral Fortali commanded, ¡°All power to engines. Full thrust at negative ten thousand kilometers. Maintain a straight path. We¡¯re going to initiate a jump sequence from the nearest WSA.¡±

    ¡°This is bad. They just keep biting away like a swarm of fleas,¡± Tennyson said, ¡°The laser defense systems are totaled. I have nothing left to fight them with. At least let us divert some more energy for the shields.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s not enough power, we¡¯ll have to make the jump without them.¡±

    The Dorian descended at full speed, but the enemy fighters matched its velocity. Buldethian cruisers raced to meet it now that the main gun no longer threatened them. The Red Wasps continued to engage it, launching everything in their arsenal. Holes tore through the Dorian¡¯s hull from enemy cannon fire. Portions of the great imperial mother ship became engulfed in flames. The Hulk, Kshatriya, and Garter pushed backwards, not bothering to interfere with either side. The Werner kept to the right flank, then turned toward the Dorian.

    Fortali enacted evacuation protocol blue, ¡°Rear Admiral, contact Major Green, tell him to be prepared for escape protocol red in case of subspace drive failure.¡±

    Three cargo vessels ejected from the Dorian¡¯s transport bay. Two communication pods left her fighter bays along with an ambulance transport. The cargo transports of the imperial fleet proved surprisingly strong. They engaged the dark angels, destroying an entire squadron in order to clear the area of the special anomaly.

    ¡°Lieutenant Soel¡¯s company is reporting full success in capturing the Neimun,¡± said the communications officer, a cheer rose through the otherwise dismal control room.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Advise him to use the Neimun¡¯s jump capacity evasively, otherwise they¡¯ll destroy him,¡± Vice Admiral Fortali commanded.

    ¡°Yes, mam!¡±

    ¡°Sub space systems activating,¡± yelled Rear Admiral Tennyson. ¡°We¡¯re going to make it! We¡¯re Going to Make It!¡±

    A nervous voice came from the radar panel, the officer wiped his forehead before speaking.

    ¡°The Werner. It¡¯s- It¡¯s on a full speed collision course. It¡¯s targeting us! I think it intends to ram!¡±

    ¡°Keep moving, full power. Get in contact with the Werner. Tell it to pull back,¡± said the Vice Admiral, resisting an urge to pull out her hair.

    The communications officer almost swallowed his throat, ¡°The Werner has responded. We¡¯re supposed to rot in hell.¡±

    ¡°Not a chance! Pump what energy we have left into the neutralizer, as much as we can muster. I¡¯ve got one last trick up my sleeve.¡±

    The Dorian was already in warp anomalous mode, and its silver hull had already changed into a dull red as the Werner hit. The Dorian¡¯s left engine exploded. A series of blasts traveled down its hull, destroying sensors, communications, navigation, and weapons turrets. Everything on the left hemisphere broke apart. Shock waves blew fighters into the anomalous space. The neutralizer¡¯s compartment blew upwards from its shredded armor case like a popping wine cork. What remained of the Dorian pulled itself into anomalous space.

    As the anomalous node closed, the Dorian¡¯s jettisoned neutralizer cannon glowed brilliant white before exploding into an expanding neutralization sphere. The remains of the Dorian in that sector were the first to disintegrate. The remains of the Werner went next, followed by the formations of dark angels and red wasps that had been pecking the Dorian for over an hour. Buldethian cruisers raced to get away from the blast. The remaining mercenary cruisers engaged their emergency anomalous space drives to escape to random points in space.

    Three cannon spheres disintegrated at the edge of the blast, but the rest of the large vessels remained unharmed. At battles end, fifteen Buldethian cruisers; including the ten disc-carriers, and the Armageddon itself still survived. Lacking any substantial fighter escort, they returned to the nearest special anomalies to jump out. The captured Neimun remained left behind by its fleet.

    The lights in the Dorian¡¯s control room flickered, then turned a deep red. Sirens sounded, the radar screen blanked, then everything went quiet.

    ¡°Did we make the jump? Are we dead?¡± Rear Admiral Tennyson asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m receiving video communications, sir.¡±

    ¡°Put them through the front screen if it¡¯s still operational.¡± Vice Admiral Fortali said.

    An Imperial police trooper, distinguished by the light blue uniform with purple stripes traveling diagonally from the edge of the shoulder, appeared.

    ¡°Help is on the way, Admiral.¡±

    ¡°Where are we? And in what condition is the Dorian?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re in the Jovian region of the Sol system. The Dorian looks really bad, not much left of it. But at least you¡¯re still alive in there. That¡¯s all that matters right now. I take it we didn¡¯t win?¡±

    Vice Admiral Fortali suffered a defeated laugh before she collapsed over her console.

    -----

    Dim lights illuminated the policy table. A glass pitcher of cold clear water passed between aged hands. The blinds opened slightly, allowing the red reflection of Ranack¡¯s sands to peer inside. Judge Hammon repositioned himself in his seat while pulling at the collar of his black robe. Supreme Judge Morrison entered from the back and strode to his position at the head of the table.

    ¡°Everyone, I assume, has been informed about the disaster in the Hacetion sector. We¡¯ve lost eleven cruisers. Our entire fighter escort, gone. Worst of all, an Imperial Space Infantry force has captured the Neimun. This ensures that the Spirit Guild will get wind of our designs.¡±

    Morrison punched the table so hard the glasses of water bounced.

    ¡°What now!? I¡¯m debating whether the Neimun is worth recovering immediately, or if the crystal we know of already is more important. That mercenary is currently guarding the Neimun. He¡¯s destroyed the escort and five additional cruisers, and we have no ability to determine the condition of his vessel. Sending more cruisers might prove too costly.¡±

    ¡°We should take Hakkut and repair the remaining fleet,¡± Judge Gebrel said, ¡°We can replace the fighter losses in a few months. Then we can work from there.¡±

    ¡°The Dorian is rumored destroyed,¡± Judge Hammon said, ¡°We should have no problem dealing with the remaining five strongholds of the empire. They don¡¯t have the industrial capacity to build cruisers fast enough to counter us.¡±

    Judge Georgeson browsed through a palm sized holographic map

    ¡°This is bad. But not a total loss. We hold the Armageddon and five capable cruisers in the main fleet, plus four additional cruisers in the garrison fleets. The fighter shortage is unfortunate, but a third of that can be replaced in a matter of months if we draw from the garrison fleets under the least threat. As for transports, logistical vessels, salvage ships, minesweepers, and other supporting ships of various designs; we haven¡¯t lost a single one. Our ten carriers designed for planetary assault bridgehead operations remain unscathed as well, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll make themselves useful in the search for the Hakkut crystal. None of the fifty thousand assault troops slated to invade Hakkut have been harmed. If we make haste to the planet, we won¡¯t lose the initiative.¡±

    ¡°What about the invasion of Sol?¡± Gebrel asked, ¡°We¡¯ve planned it for over a decade.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to be postponed for a short time,¡± Judge Morrison said, ¡°But that¡¯s all I¡¯ll allow. I¡¯m sure the Neimun will be stationed there next, so we¡¯ll have to move quickly before it¡¯s out of our reach.¡±

    ¡°I am confident in our fleet, Supreme Judge,¡± Judge Hammon said, ¡°The Imperial Military is nearing the brink of collapse.¡±

    The Supreme Judge didn¡¯t look convinced, ¡°The Spirit Guild will align with the Empire if it discovers our secret, and we¡¯ll lack the time to destroy this alliance even through the sheer force of our will. Even without knowing, I¡¯m sure they realize their huge stake in maintaining the political structure that ensures their power. Our best hope for dissension is to lead them into attempting a coup, but it must be unsuccessful.¡±

    ¡°We must strike quickly into the Jovian region,¡± Judge Hammon said. ¡°The odds of failure increase every month we wait. The WSAs accessing the Sol system are near points that provide defenders with near limitless energy. If the defenses are rebuilt, expanded, and fine-tuned taking the system will prove prohibitively costly.¡±

    ¡°My primary worry is Hakkut,¡± said the Supreme Judge, ¡°If we don¡¯t get that crystal, somebody¡¯s head will roll. We should take it and establish a base as soon as possible. If the imperial commander of the captured Neimun figures out the code, he¡¯ll be looking for our crystal as well.¡±

    ¡°Maybe he¡¯ll be too greedy to report his findings,¡± Judge Gebrel suggested.

    ¡°You take this too lightly. I shudder to think that an agent of the Spirit Guild, or even the Harn Empire may soon possess our crystal. The Neimun is the only crystal beacon that can be constructed, and we don¡¯t have the ability to rebuild it. I certainly won¡¯t allow it to be destroyed. And if it is deconstructed by the enemy there will be hell to pay.¡±

    ¡°Now, now.¡± Judge Georgeson said. ¡°We can let the enemy find the crystals for us. Then take them before they discover how to utilize their power. We have the most capable commandos in the universe.¡±

    ¡°What about Defacto,¡± Judge Hammon asked, ¡°The bounty on his head hasn¡¯t worked. Maybe we should try something more sinister. We have that former Spirit Guild assassin at our disposal. Let¡¯s make use of him.¡±

    ¡°Far too risky,¡± Judge Gebrel complained, sweating, ¡°He was affiliated with the Spirit Guild, he might discover something.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Supreme Judge Morrison said, ¡°The assassin hates the guild for what they¡¯ve done to him. Mercenary Defacto is a part of that past, and we can utilize him without giving him the details.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing the others were nothing like this Defacto,¡± Judge Gebrel said, ¡°Thanks to my work, they have committed treason. Defacto won¡¯t have the independent corp. to hide behind much longer. He¡¯ll be dead soon. I deserve credit for at least that much.¡±

    ¡°Yet that one man proved most injurious to our plans,¡± said the Supreme Judge.

    ¡°He has many powerful enemies though,¡° Gebrel said. ¡°If only we could take the Imminent Destruction out of the equation; then he¡¯ll wither away like a pile of ashes in a gale. We¡¯d need not lift a finger to ensure his demise.¡±

    Hammon smirked, ¡°I¡¯m taking care of the mercenary. I suspect he¡¯s strong, but our assassin is unbeatable.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Supreme Judge Morrison said, ¡°He must be destroyed, if only as a warning to others who would oppose us.¡±

 33. Blue Dust

    The formaldehyde and ammonia haze of the Hacetion nebula dominated the view. The observation deck filled with tones of hushed violet. The Neimun cast a growing shadow. Karen folded her camera before pushing it into her purse. Destiny sat hunched over on one of the seats nearby.

    The floor shuddered with a groan. Emergency lights activated, the hushed violet became a threatening red. An odor of molten sulfur slithered from burst pipes along the ceiling. Blue powder forced itself from underneath the entrance hatch. It billowed in fungi shaped clouds. Karen opened a hatch just before the gravitational system failed. A wave of powder laden air blew her against the polymer ceiling, though she caught herself and jumped back easily, right into the blue cloud. The powder stuck fast to skin, hair and clothing. Both woman were soon covered with it. They moved through the fog slowly as the hall¡¯s warmth faded.

    ¡°Is this your first time in zero gravity?¡± Karen asked.

    ¡°This is worse than the take-off. I kind of feel like I¡¯m going to throw up.¡±

    Karen turned her around and stared with a scolding face. Destiny smiled lightly and laughed, but it quickly became a sick sigh.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare do anything stupid like that, or you¡¯ll end up getting us both killed,¡± Karen pulled Destiny by her shirt sleeve. ¡°Now let¡¯s get to the bridge. I need to know what happened, and you¡¯re coming with me.¡±

    An odor of molten sulfur complimented by a hint of smoke stung their nasal passages. Destiny coughed. The powder refused to settle as the concentration of hydrogen in the air increased. They were near asphyxiating when an atmospherics pipe screeched before bursting above them; a trail of clear fresh air hissed briefly, and the respite gave them the ability to find the stair case to the Imminent Destruction¡¯s mess hall. Another air recycling pipe burst as they reached the sealed hatch at the bottom of the steps; unfortunately, the hatch was locked.

    ¡°Was that a gas line?¡± asked Destiny, the air from the pipe was making her light headed and a little jittery.

    ¡°Almost as bad, pure oxygen. The life support systems must be failing.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s bash through the hatch. I saw that done on a movie once,¡± Destiny coughed blue dust.

    ¡°Are you crazy. We¡¯d only end up with bruises or broken bones. I thought you were supposed to some sort of genius or something.¡±

    ¡°Lack of good air, I guess. At least the air is clearing because of that pipe.¡±

    ¡°Some help that is. Don¡¯t you realize we¡¯re trapped in here?¡±

    Destiny banged the hatch, but Karen discouraged her from wasting air, noting that nobody on the other side would ever hear them anyway. They both languished, floating against the walls.

    ¡°I wonder where all this blue stuff came from.¡±

    ¡°I read about something like this once in a training manual. I think it neutralizes a poison released when the fusion engines overload and the gasses escape from their pipes. It also serves some kind of cooling function.¡±

    ¡°When I was little, I ate sawdust once. Breathing this stuff is sort of reminds me of that.¡±

    ¡°You did what!? Why are you telling me this? Everyone has been saying you¡¯re smart. Have I been lied to?¡±

    Destiny laughed, giddy with oxygen overload, ¡°My dad was building a storage shed and he had a pile of saw dust in the corner, it was kind of gluey once it got in your mouth, just like this blue stuff.¡±

    Karen banged the hatch against her own advice, ¡°Help, I don¡¯t want to die with a loon who eats saw dust!¡±

    ¡°I was only two.¡± Destiny growled as the oxygen high began to fade.

    They floated calmly for a few minutes. Meditation prevailed. Karen wiped a finger across Destiny¡¯s cheek, revealing a patch of healthy skin, she sighed in relief.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°For a second I imagined this stuff could color permanently.¡±

    ¡°My mom used to call me her little berry. Does this mean I¡¯d be a blueberry?¡±

    ¡°That is so ignorantly sentimental I won¡¯t even bother to comment.¡±

    ¡°I was only attempting to be lighthearted. You should try it sometime.¡±

    ¡°Lighthearted! I don¡¯t want to die before I reach the peak of my career. And you¡¯re trying to be lighthearted?¡±

    ¡°Fade will do whatever it takes to find us. I wouldn¡¯t doubt it.¡±

    ¡°How na?ve. Do you think you can trust that murderous mercenary and his pathetic little monkey?¡±

    ¡°Monkey?¡±

    ¡°His flunky, the hormonal idiot with the speech impediment. The mercenary must have found him under another rock, right after he crawled out from under his own. What sickens me is that a born killing machine would pretend to have ideals, some code of honor that puts him above everyone. He¡¯s nothing more than a hired thug who works for whoever throws the most cash his way.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± Destiny yelled, actually tearing up, ¡°Don¡¯t you say another thing about him. You¡¯re the one who has no right! I¡¯ve known him long enough to know better.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re so provincial.¡±

    ¡°At least I¡¯m not a spoiled snob who looks down on people.¡±

    ¡°Fine, what makes you think you understand that mercenary?¡±

    ¡°His name is Fade,¡± Destiny snapped, ¡°Well his nick name anyway. And he has more compassion than you could ever care to imagine! The first thing he did when he came to my village was save my family from the thugs who killed my mother. Fade made sure they never bothered us again. I thought he had just killed them all off after the first incident, but I found out that he had actually paid off the entire debt my dad accumulated. He did that without ever saying a word, just because my father poured out his heart to him. All the discount drinks and homecooked meals we could offer never near paid him back.¡±

    ¡°Touching, but I¡¯m sure there¡¯s more to it. He probably bought you from your father or something like that.¡±

    Destiny put her head down and made a fist, ¡°Dad never asked for the favor, so he considered it a gift. Besides, Fade never asked for anything like that in return. You¡¯re just a cynical snob. My father wouldn¡¯t lie to me!¡±

    Karen sighed, ¡°Are you trying to make him out to be something special, he¡¯s not, he¡¯s just a mercenary. If you don¡¯t realize he¡¯s only out for himself then you are more na?ve than I ever thought. Know your worth, you¡¯re prime genetic material with minimal restructuring at peak development. You could into almost any of the high families if you sought to.¡±

    ¡°His line of work has nothing to do with it. You ought to appreciate us, we¡¯re doing something you couldn¡¯t even try in a million years. We¡¯re saving the empire!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t talk like you¡¯re one of them. For someone who is good at math you are unbelievably daft. I¡¯d be speechless if that were possible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a mercenary now. I can talk any way I like.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re no mercenary,¡± Karen scoffed, smiling wickedly, ¡°you¡¯re just having a crush on one because you¡¯re too young to know better.¡±

    ¡°Am not!¡± Destiny yelled as she turned bright red, ¡°I wanted my chance to help the Harn Empire, that¡¯s why I signed up where my skills could be put to good use.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be cute if you weren¡¯t so dense. You didn¡¯t sign anything. You¡¯re a stowaway who was never wanted here in the first place. And, if you wanted to serve the empire so badly, you could¡¯ve joined the regular forces any time. So why didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to be stifled by formality, okay.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re ostensibly a smart girl. Go to the academy and take fleet training, you¡¯ll be on a cruiser within a year.¡±

    ¡°And how many actual cruisers are in the imperial fleet? How patient do I have to be to wait for a new fleet to get built?¡±

    A dim resignation filled Karen¡¯s voice, ¡°Yet you have the patience of a spirit guild martyr when it concerns a particular mercenary. So, stop lying to me. I may be shallow, but I can still recognize a fool¡¯s devotion when I see it. It¡¯s one of those things that¡¯s so rare you can¡¯t help but notice, even when it¡¯s trying to hide.¡±

    ¡°Fade and I, have a mutual understanding,¡± Destiny explained, feeling flush, ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±

    Wet lines cut through the blue powder as Destiny whimpered. She smeared them by wiping her face.

    ¡°You¡¯re far too weak to work as mercenary. Fade knows it too, but he wants you for some reason, so he won¡¯t force you out, at least until he gets what he wants from you. Whether he cares to admit it or not, that¡¯s the situation. You¡¯re going to end up broken hearted. If he really loved you, he¡¯d do everything in his power to leave you somewhere safe.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true! He could care less, he barely ever knew I existed. I had to sneak aboard to even become a part of his crew. But it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have the talent to make myself useful, even Horace knows I¡¯m capable!¡±

    ¡°Well, he did care enough to risk everything and everyone else to keep you alive. I don¡¯t know anyone who¡¯d do that for me, for any reason. So that¡¯s something.¡±

    ¡°He did?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain what, why, or how it happened. I wasn¡¯t there, I heard it from the pilot.¡±

    There was a brief moment of silence.

    ¡°That would be the second time. Someday, I¡¯ll have to return the favor, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Karen smirked.

    "Not like you¡¯re probably thinking! He might get into trouble, and then I¡¯ll have to bail him out. That¡¯s how things work with mercenary comrades.¡±

    ¡°You are such a dope,¡± Karen ran her hands through her hair and wiped her face, ¡°We better not chat anymore, we¡¯re wasting air.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Destiny snapped.

 34. Intermission

    The chill that had been developing for some time suddenly turned to a freeze as the air thinned. The lights went out completely, leaving the hall pitch black. The sudden heat loss caused the walls to groan. The women shivered and hyperventilated. The hall was like an infected appendage of a gangrenous body. Karen leaned defiantly against the wall while tapping her nails against the hatch. Destiny curled into a ball, allowing herself to float.

    ¡°I¡¯m really scared.¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be realistic not to be,¡± Karen said.

    ¡°Is everyone else dead? Did they just abandon us? Do you think we¡¯ll survive?¡±

    ¡°Do I have ¡®Psychic¡¯ written on my forehead?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry. Well, since there seems to be little hope we¡¯ll get out of here alive. I might as well ask your name. Again. I wasn¡¯t listening the first couple times.¡±

    ¡°Destiny Payson. My mom gave me the first name. My parents agreed that she pick it since she had no say over the second. That is, unless they were going to have a boy because my father wanted a boy named after him. My parents didn¡¯t believe in choosing pre-arranged physical attributes. I was born the way God wanted me.¡±

    ¡°I asked your name, not your life story. And are you seriously saying I was born against God¡¯s will? You sound like a Spirit Guild acolyte.¡±

    Destiny shrunk back a little, placing a hand over her cheek.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Were you a pre-arranged child?¡±

    ¡°All my father¡¯s children were girls. Neither of my parents were fond of boys, and I¡¯m perfectly happy with their decisions. There are lots of things I can do better than anyone else because I have perfected genetics.¡±

    ¡°What about Neiderheim¡¯s principle?¡±

    ¡°The theory that perfecting person in one area leads to the detriment of another. It doesn¡¯t always apply. My parents weren¡¯t trying to perfect me, they were trying to condition the type of child they wanted based on three attributes, beauty, intelligence, and resourcefulness. Nothing was overemphasized. My family has been doing this for years. If done properly, there are no risks.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re that much different from me.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you were a designer baby and don¡¯t even know it. I doubt it though. Some natural births get lucky, and yet you¡¯re still nowhere near as capable as I.

    ¡°I¡¯m more adaptable. And I¡¯m probably better at math.¡±

    ¡°You may be right. I was conditioned for literature and the arts.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Destiny said, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend you. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything wrong with it. I have friends who were engineered to have perfect teeth, or to be a certain gender, or to have a certain hair or eye color. I also know a lot of people who were born without conditioning. It¡¯s all up to the parent where I¡¯m from.¡±

    ¡°You would know a lot of those people. You grew up on Hakkut, after all.¡±

    ¡°There you go again being condescending. And the anti-modification era of my planet ended generations ago, oh all-powerful conditioned one.¡±

    To their surprise, the hatch opened. Powder combined with the renewed glow of the emergency lights gave the mess hall an eerie purple fog in which Bert stood before them triumphantly. He was covered with blue powder; it swam from his hair, coated his skin, danced on the back of his hands, and lounged over his uniform; only his eyes were visible. He held a stained electronic pulse device, its cord still plugged into the door panel. Destiny grabbed his leg and pulled herself out so forcefully that Bert had to clutch the door supports. Karen guided herself in a gentler manner.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Destiny said, ¡°I thought we were going to die in there.¡±

    Bert helped them up, and led them to the kitchen, which was clear of the powder. Once inside, they left footprints in their path, and hand prints on everything they touched. Karen pressed her palms against the sink, leaving blue prints on the lining. She twisted the hot water nozzle, nothing happened, not a drop came from the faucet. She slunk to the floor, leaving a trail of blue from her back.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± she asked, ¡°I demand an explanation.¡±

    Bert tightened the hot water nozzle, he didn¡¯t want to risk the possibility it would function and spread droplets of burning water throughout the room. He coughed so loudly it resonated throughout the kitchen. ¡°I demand splanations for your makin¡¯ me slog through this poison to get to ya.¡±

    ¡°Poison!¡± both girls exclaimed in unison.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just messin¡¯ with ya. That powder is harmless as CO2, just itch the lungs a bit, no worse than a bad cigarette. Water recycling system gone, we¡¯re lucky to have emergency air supplies left, and that¡¯s only because we have such a small crew.¡±

    Karen pulled a cosmetic mirror from her purse. The sight of powder over her skin and throughout her hair made her nauseous enough to moan.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°How much longer do I have to go along looking like a blue snow cone.¡±

    ¡°You can rub it off,¡± Bert said, brushing some off his shoulder.

    Destiny brushed off her face and hair until it was only highlighted by the powder, Karen did the same. The plumes from their clothes made it difficult to see.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to the control room. We gotta help Fade fix up the communications or we¡¯re all toast.¡±

    ¡°Blueberry flavored?¡± Karen suggested.

    Destiny broke into a giggle. Bert couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh of his own, even though he didn¡¯t understand the reference. His mood changed suddenly as he gathered the nerve to take command.

    ¡°Hey, this is no time for jokin¡¯. We¡¯re in trouble in case ya didn¡¯t notice. The captain is even thinkin¡¯ bout abandonin¡¯ the ship. Our engines are gone, long with just bout every critical maintenance system. We¡¯re leakin¡¯ air like the Haugnaten asteroid disaster, and we ain¡¯t got much in the way of heat neither. We¡¯ll be lucky if we can hook up with the Neimun, if not, well, we¡¯ll be dead.¡±

    ¡°Hey, the monkey knows history,¡± Karen mocked, moving past him at a jogging pace. He pulled her back.

    ¡°If you want to stay alive I suggest you walk slowly, we havta take air lightly.¡±

    ¡°I think you said it wrong,¡± Destiny interrupted. ¡°The saying goes ¡®Leaking air like the Haugnaten mines.¡¯ I mean, it was an asteroid mining disaster but you don¡¯t say that in the expre...¡±

    ¡°Would you shut up!¡± Karen and Bert both said simultaneously.

    Karen frowned bitterly at the idea that she had been thinking the same thought as him. He smirked flirtatiously and got kneed in the crotch. Karen leaned against the wall and stretched out a bit, relaxing as she waited for Bert to recover.

    ¡°You insane witch!¡± Bert growled, as Destiny floated above him on her way to the bridge. ¡°What ya do that for?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing the world a favor. Hopefully, you¡¯ll never be able to have children.¡±

    ¡°I never wanted any darn rug rats, but I just might have one to spite you.¡±

    Bert floated to the opposite end of the hall, conducting a supreme effort to straighten his posture.

    ¡°Either I¡¯m getting used to this, or you¡¯re beginning to like me, I barely felt that,¡± Bert said before curling into the fetal position.

    Karen shook her head, ¡°Pathetic,¡±

    The air in the well-lit bridge was warmer and more breathable than anywhere else. Fade¡¯s bottom half extended from underneath the communications console as he laid on the floor. His regular battle corps issued boots were replaced by the blue rubber of an old space suit, a color only slightly lighter than the fusion powder that dominated most of the ship. A twisted panel floated past his knee. A crowbar floated next to a toolbox that hovered inches from the floor. Destiny tried to be silent but failed to suppress her cough. Sparse specks of blue sparkled in the white light. Fade pulled himself out, startled by her bluish silhouette.

    ¡°Are you all right?¡±

    ¡°Do I look all right?¡±

    ¡°Stupid question.¡±

    Karen burst in. Bert entered cautiously, following from behind. Fade pulled himself back under the console.

    ¡°Bert, Destiny, I need you to help me adjust the frequency so we can contact Soel. We¡¯ve lost contact and he¡¯s the only one who can bail us out.¡±

    ¡°Let me take a look under there,¡± Destiny said, pulling herself under the console next to Fade, ¡°You¡¯re connecting the wrong wires, try this.¡±

    They reworked the wires as Bert slowly turned black plastic knobs for manual adjustment. A harsh black and white static appeared on the visual screen, an unpleasant screech cried over the audio. Bert checked the frequency gauges, adjusting them with a screw driver. The work involved much speculation, lasting until every calculation for distance, position and frequency was within the correct tolerance.

    ¡°Lieutenant Soel,¡± Fade said into the speaker, leaving Destiny with the wires, ¡°This is Fade of the Imminent Destruction. Can you hear me? Do you copy?¡±

    A spark flew from the screen. Soel¡¯s picture turned to static.

    ¡°I have audio, but no visual,¡± Soel said, ¡°What happened there?¡±

    ¡°We still need rescue. Our air supplies are exhausted.¡±

    Soel appeared once more, but quickly vanished. Then the screen exploded. Dark, jagged pieces of glass shot across the bridge. Karen retreated into the hall. Glass pieces glistened as they floated amidst them. Fade checked the audio, he still had the Lieutenant.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think it was sposed at do that,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°We¡¯re going back to Hakkut as soon as we get the engines running,¡± Soel said, ¡°How far are you?¡±

    ¡°A mere fifty kilometers, doesn¡¯t the Neimun have a towing attachment?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a repair ship, Captain Defacto.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you tow me to the Makler docks. There¡¯s a jump bridge orbiting Weift that takes you within a few parsecs. I¡¯ll pay you fifty thousand Harnicor, up front.¡±

    ¡°I said she¡¯s not a repair ship; besides, I have to go to Hakkut using an evasive course and await further orders, so no deal.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be dead if you don¡¯t help us. The Imminent Destruction is hemorrhaging badly, my hatches are failing.¡±

    ¡°You can still board the Neimun,¡± Soel said, ¡°You have my permission.¡±

    ¡°But the Imminent Destruction!?¡±

    ¡°I think the Imminent Destruction has seen its namesake, Captain. I¡¯m in a good mood. Don¡¯t push me too far, for I have little time.¡±

    ¡°My docking bay is off-line.¡±

    ¡°You have space suits, no?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re relics.¡±

    ¡°Better than nothing. I¡¯ll get the Neimun as close as possible. Your ship will be the center axis for now. Which way is your safest hatch facing?¡±

    ¡°Toward northern space.¡±

    ¡°Good, I¡¯ll come in on the positive Z line and work my way down at a ninety degrees,¡± Soel explained, ¡°You should be able to jump from the Destruction with no problems. The area is clear of enemy interference.¡±

    Red warning lights started blinking like a mad disco. Fade noticed his breath becoming labored.

    Horace activated, ¡°This area has developed an unfavorable carbon dioxide to oxygen ratio. I have no further oxygen reserves for release, please evacuate or use a carbon dioxide converter.¡±

    ¡°Can I launch a storage pod onto your ship? Do you have a pod retrieval entry device near your hatch?¡±

    ¡°That should be no problem,¡± Soel said, ¡°Ten minutes. You better be ready by then.¡±

    Fade threw off the headset, staggered to the closet, grabbed the helmet, and pulled on the glove attachments to his suit. The thick gloves went over his suit¡¯s sleeve and tightened immediately after he pushed the pressure pin. He clasped his helmet under his arm and let spare equipment float aimlessly as Bert gathered his own suit.

    ¡°Sergeant Payson. Take Karen and that pile of suits to the infirmary. Change into whatever fits reasonably. Make sure the seals for the boots and gloves are properly closed, and check for breaches in the fabric. These are very old suits. I don¡¯t know how well they¡¯ll perform, but we don¡¯t have much of a choice.¡±

    Karen would have stomped her foot, but failed for the lack of gravity.

    ¡°You¡¯re not kidding these are antiquated, not to mention in questionable repair, and designed for men.¡±

    ¡°Look Miss Howards. If you don¡¯t want to wear them that¡¯s fine with me. You can stay here and die of asphyxiation if you don¡¯t freeze first. I could care less. We don¡¯t have any working carbon dioxide converters for these suits either, so we have to have as much oxygen in them as possible. Don¡¯t put your helmets on until you get to the hatch and I say so.¡±

    Destiny grabbed Karen along with the suits, pulling them both away. Bert opened the receptacle in front of his chair, pulling out a plastic bag. He stashed his cigarettes inside, getting four handfuls before sealing it. Then he left with a quick salute.

 35. Escaping Destruction

    The instrument panel stood in darkness. The steering handle loomed large. It had been locked since the engine failed. It wouldn¡¯t give Fade the satisfaction of one last push. Jagged glass stuck around the edges of the broken view screen glistened with the faint rays of the emergency lights. The flickering Neimun on the holograph projector partially vanished, half the representation clear while the other half badly blurred.

    The cigarette receptacle remained open, the remaining stock spread thinly. Fade removed his cap. He dropped it in the cigarette receptacle before closing it. Fade then placed a high memory disc into the central computer that stored Horace. The purple bubble appeared on its screen.

    ¡°You may not realize this, but it is impossible to separate my systems from this ship, Captain. I¡¯m not your average computer system.

    ¡°Fine. I could care less, go get yourself destroyed.¡±

    ¡°I was created to fulfill a purpose. I don¡¯t need air, food, water, or warmth to survive. I¡¯ll remain capable until my purpose is served.¡±

    ¡°Horace. Why¡¯d you choose me?¡±

    ¡°Because I fell in love.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see. You must already be damaged beyond repair unless you¡¯ve somehow acquired a sense of humor.¡±

    ¡°Captain, I have been perfectly capable of understanding and appropriating humor for my purposes since my creation.¡±

    Fade leaned over his seat, looking at the floor, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I failed you. And now I¡¯m running.¡±

    ¡°We failed together captain. And you need to survive so we can meet again. I assure you that we will meet again and you will be my only captain.¡±

    ¡°I have to release the two spies properly,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already taken care of their funeral arrangements. Concentrate on survival.¡±

    The emergency lights faded away. The purple bubble, unable to communicate further, disappeared from its screen.

    -----

    ¡°Don¡¯t they open anywhere?¡±  Destiny asked.

    ¡°You put the top on first, and then the bottom goes on like jeans,¡± Karen explained, ¡°There¡¯s a small panel near the belt that airlocks the two sections, and then a suction hose seals you up like so much freezer stored meat. I studied this. These are MRbasic models, one of the oldest Imperial designs still in use today. Very cheap, very ugly, and very uncomfortable.¡±

    Destiny sat on the bed, she pulled the bottoms on and crossed her legs, examining the leathery indigo fabric. It wasn¡¯t quite as bad as she thought it would be. She didn¡¯t have trouble getting into the suit, but it wasn¡¯t designed for the contours of a feminine body. It was saggy in some places and tight in others. Karen writhed, pulled, and stretched the manmade fabric past her skirt. The fit of her top was sloppy around the waist until Destiny helped her with the airlock. It tightened up, but left unseemly ridges.

    ¡°This makes me so mad,¡± Karen growled, ¡°If this is one of the ape¡¯s old uniforms I¡¯ll probably stink for a week.¡±

    A knock issued from the door, followed by Bert¡¯s voice as it cracked open, ¡°Hey, let¡¯s get going. Hurry up and get your boots and gloves on, not the helmets though. All the breath recycling stuff is used up, so we have to go with the helmet¡¯s two minute air supply.¡±

    Bert hurried them to the hatch. When they arrived, he stuffed a yellow pod into an opening in the wall, closed everything up and typed a few commands in the computer panel. The pod¡¯s lights flickered as it flew toward the Neimun and was caught by a grappling hook.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Why do we have to wear these ridiculously antiquated, out of shape suits?¡± Karen asked, ¡°We should be conducting a hatch connection operation, or going via escape pod.¡±

    Bert scratched his forehead, ¡°All the escape pods were sold. We¡¯ve been a bit short on cash lately.¡±

    ¡°How unprofessional,¡± Karen scoffed.

    ¡°Would you shut up. We gotta get off this ship, and you have to trust us, so shut up. Now, Fade and I are gonna escort you to the Neimun. Both of us have practiced ship jumps before. These suits have limited thrust capacity, so we¡¯ll be jumping under our own power, then using the packs to steer us if needed. Newton¡¯s law, once we jump we keep moving in the same direction until something catches us. That would be the Neimun.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll jump with the captain,¡± Karen said.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s arranged, you¡¯re jumping with me, and we¡¯re going first.¡±

    Fade locked the inner hatch after entering. The emergency oxygen supplies released, so a slight rush of air filled the room. That¡¯s when Fade noticed a hairline crack in the back Destiny¡¯s helmet; it was too late to get her another one.

    ¡°Sergeant Payson, trade helmets with me.¡±

    Destiny stared at the traded helmet suspiciously.

    ¡°When we¡¯re ready Bert and Karen will be jumping together to the Neimun,¡± Fade explained, ¡°Sergeant Payson, the thruster pack on your suit won¡¯t work, so we¡¯ll have to hold each other on the way out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I don¡¯t mind or anything,¡± Destiny blushed as she stared at the traded helmet, ¡°I¡¯m not scared.¡±

    ¡°We have no tanks. Conserve your breath, each helmet only holds two minutes¡¯ worth of air. If we mess this up, we die.¡±

    Fade checked the seals on the women¡¯s suits. He checked the neck first, then the wrist connections, the torso and the boots. Karen¡¯s suit was open at the back of the hips, he pressed the loosening button on the belt panel, repositioned it and reestablished it properly. She waited until he was finished to slap him. Fade returned to the hatch controls without responding.

    ¡°Do not speak from within the helmet,¡± he said, ¡°No one will hear you. Conserve your motions, breath with your nose, and no waving of the legs or arms. Every extra second counts. Helmets on now.¡±

    The hatch opened immediately after everyone¡¯s helmet was secure. Its panels snapped off and floated away, revealing dents from enemy fire. The Neimun was now only fifty meters distance. It looked like space itself. The few lights reaching its surface represented the grace of the stars. They could barely see the vessel¡¯s outline. Bert clamped Karen¡¯s torso, then sent them away before she could resist. Destiny leaned back against Fade, who clasped her tightly in the same manner. After the first couple flew into the opposing hatch, Bert placed Karen¡¯s fingers around the dock handles, then prepared himself to help the next couple. Fade went limp and released his grip on Destiny as they entered. Bert firmly gripped Fade¡¯s shoulders and pinned him inside until the hatch closed. Once warm air filled the bay, Bert removed Fade¡¯s helmet, shook his captain¡¯s shoulders, and slapped his face.

    ¡°Come on, Fade. Wake up.¡±

    Destiny felt Fade¡¯s weak breath, then his heartbeat.

    ¡°He just passed out,¡± she said, ¡°probably lack of pressure.¡±

    Fade remained asleep as they drug him into the Neimun¡¯s narrow halls. Karen¡¯s arms folded around her chest as she paced back and forth over a half meter of panel. Destiny knelt, removed her gloves, and lightly tapped Defacto¡¯s cheek. The outside of his suit was ice cold, but his cheek was still slightly warm. She couldn¡¯t resist smiling.

    ¡°Hey, someone needs oxygen! Is there a doctor here?!¡± Karen yelled.

    Corporal Ray Jackson entered. The medic in a gray uniform and a white overcoat examined Fade. A large red cross was displayed on the right shoulder of his overcoat. The young man had a pleasant but professional demeanor, but his hands shook slightly as he examined his new patient.

    ¡°We have no medical oxygen, but he¡¯ll still recover. He¡¯s suffering more from exhaustion than anything else. I¡¯ll have someone get him to the infirmary to warm him up as well.¡±

    ¡°Exhausted, eh,¡± Bert sighed, ¡°Wonder why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Corporal Jackson, medic for the 113th platoon of the First Imperial Infiltration Company.¡±

    Bert threw off his gloves and shook the doctor¡¯s hand enthusiastically.

    ¡°The Lieutenant has prepared separate quarters for the women. Are you the Captain or his crew?¡± Jackson asked of Bert.

    ¡°His crew,¡± Bert admitted, ¡°I¡¯m First Lieutenant Bert Slemgut. My Capin¡¯ here, well he¡¯s on the floor re-uh-re-shapin¡¯ up.¡±

    ¡°You can go to the infirmary with your Captain, but first we should take the civilians to specially prepared quarters.¡±

    Destiny approached the medic, ¡°I¡¯m a crew member. Sergeant Payson, engineering. I even have my uniform on under the suit.¡±

    ¡°Is she a crew member, Lieutenant Slemgut?¡±

    ¡°Her, no way! She¡¯s a stowaway. The only reason she¡¯s in a uniform is because she was wounded by a paralysis grenade and had to have special treatment.¡±

    ¡°That is such a lie!¡±

    Karen smiled, she wasn¡¯t going to be left alone, ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth officer. She just has a thing for the captain.¡±

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t defy the commander¡¯s orders,¡± Corporal Jackson said, ¡°You two are going to have to bunk together, at least until Captain Defacto wakes up and sorts things out.¡±

 36. A5000

    Crates filled with engine parts were scattered across the room, though none were stacked. Two empty steel chairs sat in front of a wooden crate with a cardboard covering; it served as a table. An empty canteen of water lay face down on its top. The girls had slipped out of their suits only to discover that everything made of cloth had bonded with the aged insulation and stuck inside. Destiny lost everything but her underwear, while Karen lost everything.

    The old insulation had been taxed to the limit, and returning to a normal heating environment stretched the suits into shapes that didn¡¯t resemble anything a human could possibly wear; they were now melded together in an oddly shaped pile at the foot of the bunk bed. Destiny took the top, while Karen took the bottom. Both kept themselves underneath thin black and red sheets in the cold room.

    Destiny played with her hair as she paged through an old computer manual she found in one of the crates. Her feet kicked lazily, narrowly avoiding a pile of engine parts she had gathered at the end of her mattress. Suddenly her legs stopped, she clasped her hands, knelt her head, and remained completely still for about a three minutes. Then she returned to her reading. Karen threw off her sheet, balled it up, and shook it within her fist.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you at all concerned that they have us trapped, completely nude, in this stupid room? What if one of those troopers gets the wrong idea? I bet that mercenary planned it that way. Those suits were made to malfunction like that!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure if we just keep underneath the covers and wait, they¡¯ll bring us something to wear. I really don¡¯t think it was planned this way.¡±

    Karen sat up and hugged the crumpled sheet, ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say. You still have underwear. I don¡¯t have anything. Besides, that was a one-thousand-haricon designer suit, you only lost a cheap work uniform. All my stuff is lost on that mercenary¡¯s ship, except my recorder. And they haven¡¯t returned it yet.¡±

    Destiny removed her bra and dropped it in Karen¡¯s lap. ¡°Now we both have something to wear. Treat it right. That¡¯s half of everything I own until I get my computer back.¡±

    Karen didn¡¯t hesitate to put it on, ¡°It¡¯s not as tight as I¡¯d thought it be.¡±

    Destiny leaned over the bed and slapped her with her magazine. ¡°Is that what I get for trying to be nice?¡±

    ¡°I meant it as a compliment.¡±

    Karen folded her sheet and tied it around her hips to improvise a skirt. She felt comfortable enough to wander around until the locked hatch opened and a soldier entered with a cart of personal belongings. There were no clothes, but more sheets and some blankets. Karen¡¯s recording device had been saved. Destiny¡¯s palm computer sat next to it. She forgot herself and almost jumped from her bunk. The soldier smiled stupidly as Destiny sunk backward and hid under her sheet.

    ¡°There are some K-rations on that tray for your lunch,¡± he said.

    Karen spoke up, ¡°Excuse me, but we¡¯d appreciate some clothes. My feet are freezing off. This is barbaric treatment.¡±

    ¡°Our Lieutenant is attempting to make proper arrangements for your uniforms.¡±

    ¡°What about the enemy stockpile?¡±

    ¡°By order of the senate, all spare enemy military uniforms have been burned, and this vessel has no working uniform generators.¡±

    ¡°What!? You¡¯re doing this on purpose! Get out of here!¡± screamed Destiny. She threw a barbell shaped metal piece against the door frame. The guard backed away and the door slid shut.

    ¡°How do they not have a spare uniform!?¡±

    Five minutes later the hatch opened and the same soldier appeared.

    ¡°You two cover up as much as possible. I¡¯ve been ordered to escort you to the decontamination chamber in ten minutes. It¡¯s been cleared of male occupants for the next two hours.¡±

    He saw the rations were still on the tray, ¡°Finish your lunch too.¡±

    Another part flew at him but he dodged it.

    ¡°I wonder what the guys are doing?¡± Karen mused.

    ¡°They better be suffering!¡± Destiny yelled from under her cover.

    -----

    A tall, stately woman with bright green eyes and glossy black hair picked up Fade and gave him a tight squeeze that made him laugh. She was so huge to him, that when she disappeared, it left him reaching desperately into the void.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    She lay in a plain metal bed. Translucent liquid flowed into her body through clear plastic tubes as she lay between the stainless-steel rails. She turned uncomfortably; the sounds of the machines on either side woke her for a moment and she glanced his way with glowing green eyes before falling back into a lifeless sleep. Fade pinched his legs as sat in the little chair by her bedside. That man came, the one who called himself his father. The hospital room melted away. They were in a garden of dripping red flowers. The man walked away without looking back.

    ¡°You killed her,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Nonsense, you can¡¯t kill a tool.¡±

    ¡°I want an explanation.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s time to fade Harry, Fade away into obscurity. You don¡¯t exist, you never existed. The Guild is your owner now.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare leave!?¡±

    The man stopped but did not turn back, ¡°You were assigned to us. We¡¯re not your parents.¡±

    He heard a panicked voice from behind him, ¡°Look, they¡¯ll be here soon, so just, get out of my face you stupid kid! Get lost. Go!¡±

    The man started run. Fade couldn¡¯t keep up.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t go!¡±

    ¡°I could care less, now get out of my face!¡±

    The little boy cried among the bloody roses.

    Scenery melded like an oil painting dipped in turpentine. The bright orange beacon, Quell¡¯s star, sunk slowly beyond the desert horizon as Fade watched from a small wooden podium above the sand. The man in the white cloak was so tall he seemed to tower over the world. The marksmanship test began. The overseer in the white cloak gave him a thirteen-millimeter revolver, an old projectile gun with a powerful recoil. The rays of the sinking star glinted off the newly polished gun. Fade spun the chamber before aiming. One hundred meters away was a field of wooden posts, and to each one was tied a prisoner whose face was covered with heavy black sack cloth. The prisoners knew their fate was sealed. Only one attempted any sort of struggle. Fade¡¯s hands shook, he couldn¡¯t pull the trigger. The old man cloaked in the white rubbed his reassuring hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Young man, if you can¡¯t execute the prisoners with that weapon, from this distance, then you¡¯ll join them. Do you understand what that means?¡±

    ¡°I- I do sir.¡±

    ¡°You had better pass this trial. The pain you¡¯ve endured to get this far should not be for nothing. We¡¯ve taken great risks to develop you, and we expect results. All you have to do is dispose of these traitors to God¡¯s will. I know you have the skill. In training you were the best, now take it to the next level, or fail.¡±

    Sweating, Fade took the time for a steady aim. The man in the white coat became agitated as Fade stood motionless. The trigger squeezed, then pulled back. The revolver fired so quickly the man in the white cloak heard only two shots despite noting all six prisoners go limp. Their thick blood soaked through the black cloth to unite with the sand. Fade fell on all fours, panting like a dog. Sweat poured from every orifice of his skin, his eyes filled with tears and he coughed.

    The man in white smiled.

    ¡°Every one of those people you killed are completely innocent. Model A5000, number one. How do you feel? Did you get the rush of power that an assassin feels when he takes a life? You should feel stronger now.¡±

    ¡°I hate you!¡± Fade screamed.

    ¡°That¡¯s right A5000. You are a full abomination in the eyes of God now. Irredeemable except through obedience,¡± He turned to the workers among the posts. ¡°This creature wants to see what it killed. Pull up the wood path so it can get a closer look.¡±

    A board rose from the sand, creating a straight path to the death posts. When the black cloths pulled away, the dead could be seen as they stared into the sand. All the victims had wounds between the eyes, where the bullet shards had gone through. One was a woman that had been a close friend to Fade. Three were children he had trained with, children who never passed. On the center post was a black-haired man, blood stuck in the short hairs of his poorly shaven face. Fade ran to the post. The revolver landed in the sand nearby.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you make me do this?!¡± he screamed, splinters digging into his skin, ¡°Why did you make me do this?!¡±

    The man had a soft, subtle tongue, ¡°Stop pretending to have such meaningless emotions, model A5000. It¡¯s time you recognize what you are. Spit on their graves. The matter, after all, is settled. You¡¯re a cold-blooded murderer, and you always will be until God releases you from your suffering. No getting away from it. It was what you were created for. You killed the man who pretended to be your father, one who foolishly thought he could love a soulless construct. You were never Harry Defacto, you were model A5000, number 21, from the day you were hatched! That name that will never fade from your conscious.¡±

    ¡°Leave me alone. I¡¯m not A5000, I¡¯m a person.¡±

    ¡°You are a construct, a war machine of the highest caliber. You have no humanity! Is this foolishness worth your life? Accept what you are and join us before you force us to dispose of you!¡±

    ¡°I deserve to be disposed of,¡± Fade whispered.

    The overseer laughed, ¡°It won¡¯t be that easy for you. Your death requires torture. Long torture! Is that what you want?¡±

    Fade swallowed, his tears became cold, ¡°No. I won¡¯t have regrets when it comes to serving my family.¡±

    ¡°That gun is yours. Pick it up. It¡¯ll need cleaning.¡±

    Fade took his revolver and walked calmly. The dead tried to eat his soul, but he jumped onto the raised wooden platform in time.

    ¡°I still have three bullets,¡± Fade said, ¡°Did you forget the other features you constructed me with? I want to try another test.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate your enthusiasm, 21, but you killed all six people. There¡¯s no way you could have three bullets left, and what could you possibly test?¡±

    ¡°Moving targets. ¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll work on that later.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll work on that now. I¡¯m going to kill you.¡±

    The trainer turned to face the child with a cold, stern, glance.

    ¡°It looks like you have learned better than I¡¯ve ever imagined! Yes, yes, this brilliant escalation!¡±

    Before the man in the white cloak could pull out his laser pistol, Fade shot him through the heart.

    ¡°You,¡± the white cloaked man groaned as he fell, ¡°You learned that already. I¡¯m so¡­ I¡¯m so proud!¡±

    Two men came from behind to catch Fade off guard.

    ¡°But how? You were out of ammo,¡± one uttered.

    Fade turned swiftly. He held the bloody index finger of his left hand in front of the barrel of his gun, exposing the shining metallic bone. He infused it with energy that split his next bullet. Both men took direct hits between the eyes. Their corpses became sand. Fade jumped into the dunes. They would be after him soon. How long was he walking through dunes as cold as snow? A whirlpool of quick sand caught his leg; he started sinking. The dead sprung from the sand to pull him in, but he couldn¡¯t see anything. He screamed. Sand filled his mouth. He lifted his gun above the sand, fired it into the air. He sunk all the way under when something reached in and grabbed his wrist.

    Everything went black.

 37. Supply Issues

    Fade awoke naked on a cold infirmary floor, a blanket extended from his outstretched hand and his pulsing forehead damp and beading with sweat. He shivered. The pulling within the pit of his stomach worsened because of the unceasing groans. For a moment, he sat in silence while staring at the floor splattered with differing shades of blood.

    Meanwhile, Corporal Jackson trudged on with his work. Only the empty beds were better kept. Fresh dressings kept them sanitary looking.

    Neglected enemy dead dripped red, yellow, and brown over four beds at the back of the infirmary. Fade wiped his forehead with his hand and caught his breath, then he forced himself to stand.

    ¡°Is this the Neimun?¡± he asked Corporal Jackson.

    ¡°It certainly is Captain Defacto. Glad to see you awake. I¡¯m sorry about your clothing. It melded into your expired suit. Those things almost tore your skin off. Did you know that a few more minutes out there the insulation on those defective models would have failed completely, and you all would have had no skin.¡±

    ¡°We would have died from asphyxiation first. Anyway, I have a red overcoat in my storage pod. Do you know where it is?¡±

    ¡°All your possession¡¯s are in the bin by the magazine generator. Your gun has been disarmed though. The lieutenant doesn¡¯t see the need for you to carry a loaded weapon.¡±

    Fade found three blue uniforms folded inside the box. He put on a uniform without bothering to ask for undergarments. Then he put on his red overcoat, tucking his gun within the interior holster. He put on a pair of white socks before slipping into his good crimson boots and worn cowboy hat.

    ¡°How come the girls didn¡¯t get their uniforms?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The civilians are in their quarters,¡± Corporal Jackson said, ¡°Nobody knew those uniforms were for them.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s my lieutenant?¡±

    ¡°Check the fourth bed to the right of the door.¡±

    Bert snoozed soundly on his back; a light pillow tucked under his neck. His covers bunched together on the floor and his arm hung over the side. He sloppily wore one of the provided uniforms. Fade rubbed his head while deciding to leave him be.

    Corporal Jackson engaged himself in clamping the arms of the former enemy combatant with no hands; clear stubs were fit over the end of each wound. Fade took the opportunity to investigate the infirmary. He found an immersion chamber and rolled back the blanket to peek inside. He recognized the face of the private who saved Destiny twice, and the one who distracted Adritah. Fade wondered what required such advanced healing, so he pulled the cover back completely.

    ¡°Interesting. He¡¯s a woman.¡±

    Corporal Jackson interrupted his work and rushed to the chamber to replace the covers.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you keep your hands to yourself! I¡¯ll have you know you¡¯re a guest here. I don¡¯t care if you were critical to this operation.¡±

    ¡°What in the world are you trying to hide?¡±

    ¡°This young man has suffered a collapsed lung and several broken ribs,¡± Jackson said while sweating, ¡°Immersion therapy is the only way possible he could survive. His cell restoration is coming along, he¡¯ll be out of there by this time tomorrow without any evidence of extensive injuries. If you disturb the process, he will be left with lifelong scaring, and possibly deformities.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to open it up.¡±

    ¡°You could if you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a doctor?¡± Fade asked, ¡°Do you know what the hell you¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do!¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Fade pulled the cover away with a quick grasp of his index finger, ¡°Then how come you don¡¯t know the difference between male and female!? Or would you care to explain how I can¡¯t tell the difference?¡±

    Nick¡¯s chest knit together, though blood still intermingled with healing liquid along the incision. Injection tubes penetrated her sides. A few removed themselves automatically, a sign that the computer judged an area to be completely restored. In some places along the fissure line, the skin was already smooth, taut, and free of scarring.

    Ray threw the covers back over the machine, ¡°You¡¯re the idiot. That¡¯s a man in this chamber.¡±

    ¡°Not quite what I learned about male anatomy, but you¡¯re the doctor. Anyhow, those wounds must have been nasty.¡±

    Corporal Jackson whispered, ¡°They were. I¡¯m begging you to have some civility, and possibly tact. That young man could be in great trouble if someone has a big mouth. You do understand, right?¡±

    ¡°Is Lieutenant Soel a womanizer?¡±

    ¡°The worst kind,¡± whispered the corporal, ¡°He pays to torture prostitutes.¡±

    ¡°He does what now!? Is that supposed to make me feel comfortable about the rest of my crew.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t try anything with them. Karen Howards is reputable reporter, the daughter of Senator Hal Howards the II, no less. He¡¯ll want to a keep a good reputation, so he¡¯ll treat her with respect. Though I¡¯d hate to think how he might try to humiliate that other girl if she wasn¡¯t part of your crew.¡±

    ¡°She is part of my crew, she¡¯s a Sergeant on my cruiser. I¡¯m going to check on her and the reporter, and take them their uniforms.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have permission to do that.¡±

    ¡°Did I ask for permission? No, I don¡¯t believe I did.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what to be,¡± Fade took the folded uniforms and left via the stairs, even though he had no idea where to go.

    Bert woke up and retrieved one of his cigarettes, puffing nervously. He twisted a filter. Smoke filled his lungs before he blew a long stream from his nostrils in front of the ¡®No Smoking¡¯ sign.

    ¡°Sounds like he¡¯s serious, doesn¡¯t he?¡±

    -----

    The dressing room was an ellipse of gray lockers. Red and yellow panels that hung inside the walls provided dingy lighting. Destiny and Karen stepped cautiously from the cleansing chambers that worked with a combination of forced air and lasers.

    ¡°Funny, I feel clean, but not at all relaxed. I¡¯m too exposed in there," Destiny said, ¡°They better not have any hidden cameras.¡±

    ¡°Those chambers clean the skin, but they can¡¯t cleanse the soul like warm soapy water. I was hoping for regular showers, but this is a military ship after all.¡±

    They found a bench and sat down.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even see robes,¡± Karen said, ¡°What if someone walks in on us?¡±

    Destiny turned a deep red, ¡°I¡¯ll kill him with my own bare hands!¡±

    -----

    ¡°How long do I have to wait?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have any clothing for them, but Private Somsa should be here with some blankets within the next ten minutes.¡±

    ¡°I have their spare uniforms, let me throw them in.¡±

    Private Somsa approached the men with a cardboard box. He pulled out a few tiny plastic bikinis, an undershirt cut excessively short, and a tiny pair of legless shorts.

    ¡°Hey Keith, look at the clothing I found under one of the mattresses. There¡¯s a bunch of great stuff in here. I hear those two are well put together, so I think I¡¯ll give them this and tell ¡®em it¡¯s all we have.¡±

    Fade clenched his fist. Another guard tried to warn Somsa to shut up with hand motions, but the warning was too late. Without even looking at the approaching soldier, Fade sent him to the floor with one punch. A small puddle of blood issued from the man¡¯s nose as he lay prone.

    ¡°Sergeant Payson, Karen Howards. You two in there?¡± Fade yelled inside the locker room.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare come back here!¡± Destiny yelled, curling her body on the bench, ¡°I¡¯ll never forgive you, and I mean it.¡±

    ¡°I have clean uniforms.¡±

    ¡°Throw them to us,¡± Karen said, ¡°Do you have any underwear?¡±

    Fade put the uniforms in Private Somsa¡¯s box and slid them through the door.

    ¡°No, but there¡¯s a few gifts from your guards in that box.¡±

    He found a comfortable spot to lean until the girls emerged from the locker room. Destiny peered outside first, leaning inquiringly as she peeked around the corner. Once she spotted Fade, she charged forward to slap him.

    ¡°You total jerk! I¡¯ve been almost naked for the past two hours! They kept telling us they had no clothes. What a total load of crap!¡±

    Her arms wrapped around his chest and arms tightly, restricting him in an embrace. The top of her head almost met his lips. Her soft brown hair smelled clean. She pulled herself away quickly, holding his arms.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re not hurt.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re pretty clean!¡± Fade said.

    ¡°We were told to go to the cleaning chambers. Then when we were done, we had to sit in the locker room for almost an hour,¡± Destiny tugged Fade¡¯s sleeves. ¡°And it¡¯s a men¡¯s locker room. Apparently the Buldethians don¡¯t let women crew vessels. Do you realize anything could¡¯ve happened in there!? Why didn¡¯t you get here sooner? Not for me, or anything, I could have handled the situation on my own, but what about Karen? She¡¯s the fragile type.¡±

    ¡°Hey! What is that even supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure your guard wasn¡¯t keeping watch for nothing,¡± Fade said.

    Karen frowned, ¡°They could have given us a uniform, at least.¡±

    ¡°They said it was a supply shortage, and I overslept, sorry,¡± Fade was glad he threw that punch, ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the infirmary and take a rest.¡±

 38. Toothpicks

    The beds in the infirmary had been cleaned and the floor freshly mopped. The bodies had been removed. A mild disinfectant replaced the odor of rot and the groaning had stopped. Bert went to the corner and lit a cigarette; Karen smacked it out of his mouth then smashed it with her heel.

    ¡°You have no respect for the injured!¡±

    Bert took a seat at the magazine generator. He selected a magazine: Ranack¡¯s Ultimate Hotties of Hotness In Skimpy Swimsuits Galore. But he didn¡¯t have authorization to use the system, which was fine because a book already sat in the platform. He could read that. The cover was white with black block letters: Strength Through Unity, Strength Through Will. He turned to a random page, picked a paragraph, and tried to read it to himself. Karen pulled it from his hands and leafed through the pages.

    ¡°You¡¯re actually trying to read something without pictures? Sometimes, you amaze me.¡±

    ¡°Just because I don¡¯t understand it doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not allowed to look at it.¡±

    ¡°Well let¡¯s see what you¡¯re trying to read,¡± Karen read aloud from its pages. ¡°The Buldethian order is the total unity of the people behind the decisions of the Judicature. The six members of the Judicature are the strongest men in the nation. Only they can make the decisions that alter the course of our unity. A soldier¡¯s first duty is his total allegiance to the Judicature and the military commanders under the Judicature¡¯s control.¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡±

    Karen continued to turn the pages idly, ¡°This is so disconnected and odd. Can you believe they actually take this seriously?¡±

    She flung the book on the table. Bert took it back.

    ¡°If you want to learn to read, be my guest,¡± she shrugged.

    A neatly groomed officer wearing headphones entered. His hair poked from his head like millions of burnt tree stalks in marching formation, while his uniform smoothed flawlessly. The thin officer made eye contact with Corporal Jackson.

    ¡°Which one of these men is Mercenary Harold Defacto?¡±

    Fade didn¡¯t bother to move and looked listless, ¡°I¡¯m Captain Defacto, and you are?¡±

    ¡°I see you never bothered to use the cleansing chambers, mercenary.¡±

    ¡°And? Get to the point.¡±

    ¡°I would like to request the pistol you stole during your unprovoked assault on Private Somsa.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall taking any pistols. Sure, I have a black army issue laser pistol. It¡¯s my own. And I make a personal issue out of other people touching my weapons.¡±

    ¡°Give me all your weapon¡¯s now, or we¡¯ll be forced to take them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to call you bluff, Lieutenant Forgisom.¡±

    ¡°How do you know my name and rank? You weren¡¯t privileged with that information.¡±

    ¡°Do you know anything about how I captured a cruiser singlehandedly? Or would you like to experience that first hand?¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Lieutenant Forgisom shivered.

    Fade snickered, ¡°Nothing to worry about. I¡¯m an appreciative guy until you piss me off.¡±

    ¡°Is that a threat?¡±

    ¡°No, we¡¯re good. I¡¯m at your mercy, after all.¡±

    ¡°You really should trust us more. We saved your life.¡±

    ¡°Get me an audience with the commander.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Forgisom said, ¡°I¡¯ll talk it over with him. In the meantime, here are some of my ration tubes as a goodwill offering. No poison, I swear. Behave yourself, mercenary.¡±

    Fade smacked his coat where the gun hid underneath it as the Lieutenant left.

    ¡°You had that guy quacking in his boots,¡± Bert said, ¡°I just hope they don¡¯t try to kill us because of you. We¡¯re on their turf, just in case ya don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with any problems as they arise.¡±

    The ration tubes tasted like wallpaper paste. Destiny took Fade¡¯s lead and pushed the contents of a ration tube into her mouth, almost gagging.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you guys going to eat your rations?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°I only eat real food,¡± Karen said.

    ¡°Maybe later, I¡¯m not in the mood for glue,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll eat them then,¡± Fade said.

    Destiny slapped his hand away. ¡°No, you won¡¯t, they¡¯re not yours; besides, they may change their minds later.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t. I mean¡­ I could care less. Fine then.¡±

    ¡°Are you gonna to let her boss you around like that?¡± Bert asked, ¡°I¡¯m beginin¡¯ to think you two are a couple.¡±

    Fade swiped both tubes from their owners, squeezed their contents into his mouth, and swallowed quickly before Destiny could make a move to stop him. He dodged to keep Destiny from grabbing what remained of them out of his hand. He put his arm around her waist. An impish grin spread his lips as he pressed her against him. Her skin went white, then bright pink, before she started pushing to get out of his grasp. Her back felt warm through the soft blue fabric of her uniform. He let go as soon as she attempted to back away.

    ¡°You¡¯re nothing but a depraved beast!¡± she scolded.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who jumped on me. I though you wanted little hug.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid! You wanted to press flesh.¡±

    ¡°If only there was a little more to press, I¡¯d actually feel something.¡±

    She forced a smile, then a giggle, ¡°You have such a strange sense of humor, Fade. I don¡¯t understand you at all.¡±

    ¡°I could care less. Really, I could.¡±

    She started kicking him furiously in the shins, ¡°Can you feel that! How about that! Maybe you can you feel that?! And That! And That!¡±

    When he¡¯d had enough, he tripped her leg and let her fall on her butt. His shin ached.

    ¡°Like I said, couldn¡¯t feel a thing.¡±

    Lieutenant Forgisom returned, ¡°Captain Defacto, Commander Soel has requested that you meet with him in the conference room. I¡¯ll escort you.¡±

    Fade struggled to avoid limping.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± Forgisom practically marched up the steps.

    Destiny pulled down her left eyelid with her middle finger and stuck out her tongue.

    -----

    The long conference table made from polished coal formed a sharp rectangle. The chairs, made of the same, lacked cushioning; their backs were carved from solid coal shales. Blank screens covered the walls. Lieutenant Ontogi Soel invited Fade to sit with a fluid hand motion toward an unforgiving chair nearby. Once Fade sat, Soel picked up papers scattered about the desk, and carefully looked them over before shuffling them into a neat pile. While waiting, Fade pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and balanced it vertically on the index finger of his favored hand. The same thing was done with additional toothpicks on each of his other fingers. They bounced upwards a centimeter, then two centimeters, then three. They landed perfectly each time, still balanced the way they had originally been placed. When the trick got Soel¡¯s attention, Fade grinned.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me, you performed in Grifter¡¯s Intergalactic Circus?¡±

    Fade thrust his arm forward; thin wooden missiles flew into the opposite wall, where they splintered into fragments.

    ¡°Balance, dexterity, concentration, and speed are far more important than strength. I¡¯ve always believed that.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s how you compensate for a lack of will, strength, loyalty, power, determination; I could go on. Is that what you¡¯re telling me?¡±

    ¡°Before we go any further. I¡¯m sorry for my behavior at the cleaning chambers. It wasn¡¯t a good display of self-control.¡±

    ¡°Another quality you lack?¡±

    Fade grinned, ¡°Well, I did just damage your new office. That self-control thing again. Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t damage anything. All you did was throw a few toothpicks.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t look at the wall.¡±

    Five dents the size of an imperial coin, with cracks spreading outward from the center, littered the titanium wall. Lieutenant Soel pushed a small pile of paper toward Fade.

 39. Mutiny And The Bounty

    Soel continued.

    ¡°As you already know, the other mercenaries have either turned on the empire, or have abandoned her without firing a shot in her defense. However, Captain Defacto, you were solely responsible for the destruction of eight Buldethian cruisers. Eight! Funny, the Imminent Destruction was the only cruiser to cause destruction for the enemy in the combat zone. You fought five enemy cruisers of superior construction, with no assistance from fighters, and destroyed every one with a disabled X-380. How?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like to brag, but I have pretty good reaction timing.¡±

    ¡°Not even the Dorian managed a shot at them.¡±

    ¡°The Dorian¡¯s drive systems have been the same for the past fifty years; at full speed it could only manage maneuvers at one third velocity of newer vessels due to system degradation. I spent the money to have the Imminent Destruction upgraded, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not quite all.¡±

    ¡°I have a special relationship with my cruiser, and a little talent; I¡¯d like to think,¡±

    ¡°You seem to excel in war, we have a lot in common.¡±

    ¡°I could care less about what we have in common.¡±

    ¡°Capturing this cruiser, Defacto. Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a victory in itself.¡±

    ¡°This piece of scrap was nothing but a decoy. It¡¯s shaped like a two-kilometer-long pencil, its armor is paper thin, and there¡¯s only one set of engines in the back. One fighter could disable this junker, a good cruiser could annihilate it. I¡¯ve seen a good deal of this ship, and a few of its remaining crew members. You killed a bunch of scientists and technicians. Congratulations, you hauled in a research station.¡±

    ¡°You really think so?¡±

    Fade pounded the table, ¡°I could have rallied the other mercenaries and won that battle if it wasn¡¯t for this piece of flying shart!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right about this ship, but it¡¯s far more important than you realize. I have to get it to safety.¡±

    ¡°I could care less about you have to do.¡±

    ¡°Too bad,¡± Soel took a report from his file and pushed it across the table, ¡°Your valor has been noted.¡±

    The report contained a list of friendly and enemy ships. The Imminent Destruction was described as being disabled from damage caused by a Buldethian heavy cannon. The names of the ships it destroyed were listed in the first column: Death Ray, Power, Lucifer, Guardian1, Guardian2, Guardian5, Ultimatum, and Vaporizer. The second column listed them by class: one heavy cannon ship, three sniper ships, and four X380s. The third column listed destruction rating: seven completes and one disabled. Fade pushed the paper back to the lieutenant.

    ¡°I actually got credit for every one of my kills this time. I¡¯ve grown used to much less.¡±

    ¡°The Dorian was powerless this time, and all five mercenaries left the battle. A few cruisers were destroyed by the explosion of the Dorian¡¯s gun, but they aren¡¯t listed in the report. The Buldethians have gone so far as to list you as a first class threat. They put a holograph poster on the network. I downloaded one for your pleasure.¡±

    Lieutenant Soel handed him a portable holographic, it opened to reveal an X-380 depiction. The holograph of Fade was as large as his cruiser, but looked nothing like him. The caption underneath read: Five Million Gold Dubeths Paid by the Government of Buldethia for the capture of Mercenary Defacto, Dead or Alive.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that an honor?¡±

    ¡°In the eyes of Imperial Command, yes. You never hear about Commander Emanuel Wanitake?¡±

    ¡°Tell me.¡±

    ¡°He was a land mercenary, had a band of thugs that fought for the Empire on Muglet. They succeeded in destroying resistance where the imperial garrison faltered. They were a rare case of mercenaries fighting with valor. No apologies, Mercenary Defacto, you seem to be one of those rare cases. Wanitake was a superb tactician, and a ruthless murderer. The independence movement put a price on his head. The governor of the planet knew the conflict was unfavorable. Local Imperial troops were starting to join independence fighters, so the governor offered a peace plan that included the execution of Wanitake and the arrest of his band. Emanuel Wanitake was captured in his sleep and hung in an open villa the next day. A show for the populace. Every member of his band was hung with him.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Nice story. What does it have to do with me?¡±

    ¡°Something to think about.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ignorant of recent history. Emanuel Wanitake slaughtered the families of his enemies. He worked for the planetary government, and planned a coup against the governor. No comparison. I don¡¯t slaughter the innocent, nor am I two-faced.¡±

    ¡°Well, whatever the case may be, the Independent Battle Corp. has been officially disbanded. You have the chance to enlist as a fleet officer, a lieutenant¡¯s adjunct with a strong chance for promotion to Captain. If you trust the empire so much, why don¡¯t you enlist? I will personally take you under my wing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not turning over the Imminent Destruction to the ownership of the Empire. And it can still defend itself if anyone tries to steal it.¡±

    ¡°I thought as much. Would you object to working for me if it was strictly off the records, and off the books, off course?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass on that one as well.¡±

    ¡°Take a look at this before we discuss the proposition any further,¡± Lieutenant Soel pushed another document across the table, a Buldethian report on mercenaries working for the Imperial Fleet.

    Three had been paid to retreat from battle, all the sordid details were documented: the meeting place, the amount of money, and instructions to the mercenary captain. Fade ranked as a first-degree threat because he had turned down a bribe. An entire three pages contained intelligence on the Imminent Destruction with information about its design, upgrades, previous repairs, and battle history. A few pages were devoted to personal information. He read the spy¡¯s report with interest. There were detailed plans to sabotage the Imminent Destruction, sneak agents onto the ship, and assassinate Fade. They had enlisted the cooperation of a pirate fleet, providing them with sophisticated weaponry for the job.

    ¡°Well this looks credible, because the agents placed aboard my vessel are both dead.¡±

    ¡°The Neimun is an information processing station as well as a command ship for covert operations. They never considered it vulnerable to takeover, but they never saw my unit coming for them. All their activities have been revealed, along with some of their agents. They have enough plants in Imperial Intelligence they make the gardens of Imperial Harn look like a flower pot. Did you catch the name on the report?¡±

    ¡°Yah, Xandrus. Never heard of him.¡±

    ¡°Meaningless code, but we know his true identity. It seems the controller was receiving daily reports from him.¡±

    ¡°Who is he?¡±

    ¡°Ganthor Tigo, a Hakkutian from the settlement of Farmutsville, his farm is a front for a low-level criminal enterprise.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know any low-level thugs on first name basis.¡±

    "This message was put out over the network after they announced the award offer.¡±

    A piece of paper slid across the table. It read: To mercenary Harry Defacto, come back to the Cozy Tavern in three Hakkut days or your girl¡¯s old man is hamburger. We¡¯ll be waiting.

    ¡°Are you going to save him?¡± Soel asked, ¡°because without my help you don¡¯t have a chance.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at your mercy.¡±

    The papers were slid back across the table. Soel pulled a little black box from his lap, and retrieved a key card for an S-119 transport.

    ¡°My first deal. Your Rigor fighter for an S-119.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a deal,¡± Fade said, but Soel held the card back.

    ¡°Tell me something first. That revolver, where did you come across such a fascinating weapon?¡±

    ¡°You could say I was born with it.¡±

    ¡°Six material projectiles. The light neutralization fields that absorb lasers are useless against them. I feel projectile weaponry will make a comeback on the battlefield in the very near future.¡±

    ¡°What about disintegration waves?¡±

    ¡°Enough firepower eventually overcomes them, and they¡¯re far too expensive for use by individuals. Light neutralizers are cheaper and wear down excruciatingly slowly. Then again, guns are dirt cheap, and most people with weapons don¡¯t bother shielding because of the discomfort.¡±

    ¡°Better discomfort than taking a bullet, especially if you¡¯re not fast enough to dodge.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Soel relinquished the key card, then leaned towards Fade. ¡°I have a job for you on Hakkut after you take care of the business involving that hapless tavern owner. I¡¯ve discovered something about the location of a precious object, a crystal. It was lost on Hakkut, and the Buldethians have been clamoring to retrieve it. I want you to get it before they do. There¡¯s a map of its location in your transport. You can return it to me at the Dofu space station in the Sol system. Private Nicolson will accompany you. She is due to emerge from the chamber fully healed today. Miss Howards is excess baggage for you, leave her on the Neimun. I¡¯ll see that she gets back to Imperial Harn safely.¡±

    ¡°So you knew about Private Nicolson?¡±

    ¡°Nothing falls under my radar for long. I tolerated her as long as she could maintain her disguise. That¡¯s over now, if word spreads that I allow women in my company, my name will be disgraced. She¡¯ll be gracefully dispatched into your care. I¡¯ll have her stricken from the military record.¡±

    ¡°What if she objects?¡±

    ¡°She has no choice. Otherwise it¡¯s a court martial.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take her then.¡±

    The chairs slid back with a screech. Soel offered his hand; Fade refused and the lieutenant took a breath as he narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°Get some rest until Private Nicholson is ready.¡±

 40. Some Hostages

    The snow and wind slowed Paul¡¯s movement as he carried supplies to his truck, a monster with chain studded wheels. Snow overwhelmed the thick plow attached to the front, stuck upon the blistered brown paint, accumulated over the rust that ate the lower half the body, and hardened the caked mud around the rims. Paul climbed into the storage cab to remove his stock of alcoholic beverages. They sunk into the high snow, disappearing. He replaced them with two four-gallon containers of gasoline, three self-heating casks of water, five packs of one day food rations, a portable television, a laser rifle, a bundle of blankets and some of Destiny¡¯s warmer clothing. He pulled a heavy duty cord to slam the cab shut.

    The mid-afternoon temperature held at twenty-seven degrees below zero; the winds came directly from the northern regions, a rare and deadly event. He had only been out a few minutes, but already his hands felt numb despite his thick wool and leather gloves. His nose turned blue as it covered with ice. Snow enveloped his heavy-duty felt boots.

    The Tavern itself held an unstable ten degrees at best. Snow fell down the chimney and had overwhelmed the fire, so the old wood stove worked alone with the basement furnace. Paul pressed a small irregular brick at the fireplace to close the flue. The sound of rocks grinding came from above. Paul removed his gloves and placed them on the wood stove to dry. Its heat warmed his hands, which he rubbed furiously. When they felt alive again, he picked up the gloves and the keys to his truck.

    Somebody knocked loudly at the front door. Paul walked to the side door while ignoring the knocking. Someone awaited him there anyway. Rusty hinges creaked as a finely dressed man in a black suit untouched by the snow, fancy boots, and a shiny leather jacket blocked Paul¡¯s exit. With a twisted smile the well-dressed man pushed a nine-millimeter laser pistol into Paul¡¯s chest and sent him backing into the tavern.

    ¡°Don¡¯t leave just yet, Mr. Payson. I don¡¯t want my meal ticket to blow away. You have a daughter. Where is she?¡±

    The front door flew open so forcefully its hinges broke. Three burly men squeezed through as snow avalanched inside.

    ¡°Idiots, now we¡¯re going to freeze!¡± the man yelled.

    ¡°Sorry, Tigo,¡± said the stockiest of the three.

    ¡°Take off your coat Mr. Payson. We don¡¯t want any surprises, we¡¯re here on business, strictly legitimate business. I have some inside information of financial importance. Now where¡¯s your girl.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not here.¡±

    ¡°Do you think I¡¯d ever believe that you would be the kind of father to send your daughter away in the middle of a storm like this? Don¡¯t play games with me. I don¡¯t like games.¡±

    Tigo gave a signal to a stocky man with rolled up sleeves. A tattoo snake slithered up his arm. The big guy forced Paul¡¯s arms behind his back as some old rope circled his wrists. They set him down next to the wood stove while Tigo checked his pockets and took his wallet. Two more men entered from the back. One was an acne faced young man with long hair, and the other was a deformed older man with a broken lip and crooked eyes.

    ¡°Hey, we searched the whole house,¡± The boy said, ¡°Nothing, she¡¯s not here.¡±

    ¡°Tell us where to find her,¡± Tigo ordered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where she is. She ran away.¡±

    ¡°What kind of father are you?!¡±

    Tigo pistol whipped him.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you killed enough of my family? Can¡¯t you leave my daughter out of this?¡±

    Tigo looked confused, ¡°You mean we had the honor of knocking off another family member? That¡¯s too bad. We kill a multitude of people in our line of work, anyone dumb enough not to cooperate. I can¡¯t help that no more than you can help your inability to do anything about it. Your daughter chose to play with fire. We¡¯ll try to avoid killing her if you tell us where she is, but if you refuse, we¡¯ll kill you both. So why don¡¯t you make this easy on yourself?¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°The mercenary doesn¡¯t care about me. This won¡¯t get you anywhere.¡±

    ¡°But he cares about your little girl. Where is she? Even the Spirit Guild fears me, so don¡¯t mess around. Got that?¡±

    ¡°Why would the Spirit Guild fear a simpleton thug?¡±

    Tigo pistol whipped him again, leaving a growing red welt across Paul¡¯s cheek.

    ¡°Shut up old man. I control powers you couldn¡¯t even imagine. Now tell me where you hid the girl.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who killed my wife, you bastard. I thought I recognized that face. You¡¯re the same bastard from ten years ago, only you were an old man then and now you¡¯re young.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. What gave it away?¡±

    ¡°That scar on the back of your neck, that deep long scar that looks exactly like the one I burned into my mind ten years ago.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. So now you know something. Where¡¯s your daughter?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Even if I did, I¡¯d never tell you.¡±

    The monster of a man named Snake grimaced as Tigo turned to him.

    ¡°I think you should explain to Mr. Payson why no one who has an inkling about what we are lives to gain bragging rights.¡±

    Snake slammed his fist into his left hand. The floor moaned as he approached with slow thuds. Paul kicked the man¡¯s stomach. His chair went backward against the stove but Snake offered nothing in return except for his fist slamming Paul¡¯s stomach so forcefully that vomit spewed over his shirt. Snake pulled his victim by the collar, his black bushy mustache tickled Paul¡¯s nose. Sardine paste scents oozed from Snake¡¯s breath.

    ¡°Next time, I¡¯m going to make you hold a bowl and eat it again,¡± Snake said.

    ¡°Anything to say now?¡± Tigo asked.

    Paul remained silent, he could barely breath as Snake punched him again. The old man with the crooked eyes held the bucket as Paul puked. They poured the contents in a bowl and sat it in front of him while he heaved.

    ¡°Eat it or I¡¯ll start knocking out teeth, one by one.¡±

    Paul slanted to drop the bowl, then kicked it as it fell. The chunks spilled over Snake¡¯s black shoes. With his wrists tied, Paul dodged wild punches until he dove behind the bar. A sharp hook in the wood cut the ropes. Before he could get his hand on the pistol tucked under the counter, Snake smashed his way through. A backbone snapped and then cracked apart as it was stomped repeatedly. Paul went limp. Blood flowed from his mouth.

    ¡°You killed him,¡± Tigo yelled, ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to kill him until you find out where the girl is!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I got worried. Why don¡¯t we just get Defacto, directly like.¡±

    ¡°You infernal idiot. He won¡¯t fight us on our turf, and anyone who ever tried to chase him has died.¡±

    The old man with crooked eyes had an idea, ¡°What if Defacto has the girl? Maybe she¡¯ll want him to rescue her father.¡±

    ¡°Good thinking, you just may get some favor yet. They don¡¯t know he¡¯s dead. That just might work. We¡¯ll take the body home and hold him for ransom.¡±

    -----

    Fade examined the code bar of the key card before slipping it back into the pocket of his trench coat. It wasn¡¯t activated yet, but he suspected Destiny could remove the locking code, much simpler than the coup she pulled off by placing herself on the Imminent Destruction¡¯s security clearance.

    Nearby, Corporal Jackson helped Nicole out of the immersion chamber. He kept her behind a set of covers so she could wrap herself with fresh gauze. She put on her old uniform though, despite it being badly torn and stained liberally with dried blood. She pulled her hair back into a short pony tail before she sat next to Fade.

    Fade smiled, ¡°Hi.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± Nicole said, ¡°So you¡¯re Defacto?¡±

    ¡°Your voice?¡±

    ¡°My voice device was broken.¡±

    Her combat boots had no ties; they tightened automatically to fit any size below thirteen with a press of the tongue. Her size eight foot fell into the boot. However, the inside conformed perfectly to the shape of individual feet.

    ¡°I¡¯m surrounded by women who like to live dangerously,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°I would be careful about what you say to me if I were you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m used to it; besides, the Lieutenant already knows about your softer side. Why else do you think he¡¯s sending you with me? Don¡¯t you even want to know what we¡¯ll be doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll worry about that later,¡± she said as she got up and left.

    Destiny kicked her feet in rhythmic successions against the side of her bed as she hummed an assuring tune. Fade relaxed with his usual air of apathy and stared at her. Bert slept in his chair. Karen also slept using her arms as pillows. Her covers had been on the floor for over an hour. Nobody could tell what position she would assume next. Her arm hung from the bed and her mouth opened. She snored. A bit of drool oozed onto her chin. She rolled onto her back. Her left leg bent upwards while the other stretched over the bed¡¯s edge. Corporal Jackson slept in a metal chair that leaned against a computer pillar. With so many people resting, Lieutenant Forgisom felt obliged to enter the infirmary quietly.

    ¡°The commander would like to see you in the training room. You are to bring only Miss Payson,¡± Forgisom whispered.

    Bert suddenly woke up, ¡°I¡¯m going too.¡±

    Destiny hopped off the bed enthusiastically. ¡°It¡¯s nice to be equated for a change.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°You¡¯ll learn soon enough.¡±

 41. Unnecessary Measures

    An empty cube room with ashen walls served as the training center of the Neimun. Ceiling panels distributed an even white light. A single pillar with a single screen stood in the center. Lieutenant Soel conversed with a short black-haired man in a white caftan. As Destiny approached the man clad in white lifted her hand and kissed it gently, which caused her to redden slightly. Fade refused to receive a brief hand shake from either man. Bert stood to the back.

    Soel feigned concern, ¡°I called you here so you could tell Destiny the truth about the situation.¡±

    ¡°What truth?¡± Destiny asked, ¡°What¡¯s he talking about?¡±

    ¡°Your father¡¯s been taken hostage because I have a price on my head in Buldethia. He¡¯s probably already dead.¡±

    Her eyes opened wide as her lips pursed a second, then quivered. She held back at tears as she glared at Fade.

    ¡°You¡¯re not joking, are you?¡± she said, ¡°Don¡¯t even say that!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going back to Hakkut. We¡¯re going to try and rescue him.¡±

    ¡°This is all my fault. We have to leave now!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. Soel¡¯s taking the Neimun off course to get us within range.¡±

    Soel patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. ¡°The letter concerning your father¡¯s capture is on that central computer. Fade has already seen it. He didn¡¯t want to worry you before something could be done.¡±

    ¡°Destiny...¡±

    She rushed towards the pillar. As she approached, the screen displayed the text of the threat Fade received. She turned to him, ¡°You should have told me as soon as you knew. It¡¯s not your job to protect my feelings. How dare you keep me in the dark!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hard on him, Kitten.¡±

    ¡°Shut up and stay away! Both of you!¡±

    No sooner than Destiny touched the pillar than she felt something sting the tip of her index finger. She raised it, curiously looking at the dab of blood that dripped out. The pillar melted into the floor. A cage materialized around her. Her finger pulsed as something flowed deeper into it. Her vision began to darken as her hearing dimmed. She turned, unable to speak as her eyes glazed over. Her knees slid over the floor as she awkwardly grasped for Fade. She couldn¡¯t feel, see, or hear anything around her. So she fell back, clasped her knees, and remained perfectly still.

    ¡°What did you do to her?!¡±

    Fade punched at Lieutenant Soel but he dodged right. Soel ignored the feint and dodged again to the right. He hopped back. Fade launched a feint to the right and countered with a left for the gut. Soel dodged again but with less confidence. A false feint sent Lieutenant Soel against the wall with a punch to the gut. Destiny shrieked and clutched her stomach.

    ¡°Stop it! If you kill him, the girl will die,¡± said the doctor as he pressed a control switch. It forced Destiny¡¯s vocal cords to relax, her lips were still moving, but nobody heard what she said. He readjusted the frequency and Destiny stood like a statue.

    Lieutenant Soel struggled to his feet, ¡°If you kill me, then she¡¯ll be trapped forever. Her body is brimming with robotic cells that give us complete control over her actions. Unless I give the command, the cells won¡¯t deactivate, leaving her trapped. Only my voice will deactivate them. As an extra security measure, I¡¯ve programmed them to hurt her whenever I feel pain. The Buldethians have some exceedingly rare and expensive technology.¡±

    ¡°You have no reason for this. I agreed to work for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping her safe and out of your way. You should thank me. This is the deal. You¡¯ll bring the crystal to me in return for this pretty young woman, before I¡¯m to give this ship back to the empire. You¡¯ll work for me without joining the Imperial Military¡±

    ¡°And if I don¡¯t find the crystal in time?¡±

    ¡°Then I order the microscopic robots to disassemble her.¡±

    Bert pulled out his model forty-two, which registered clearly as being completely drained, ¡°I ought to kill you now. Anyone who hides behind a hostage to get what they want isn¡¯t worth their weight in dog meat. If you want this crystal so bad, why don¡¯t you quit the military and search for it yourself?¡±

    Soel laughed, ¡°That would be too high risk, especially considering that I have people who are completely willing to do my bidding for me. You don¡¯t have any other choice.¡±

    The man in the white caftan stepped forward and threw his outer garment to the side. He wore the black and red of the Buldethian service underneath, ¡°The robots are programmed to disintegrate within a few weeks, whether or not they take her along is completely up to you. What do you think of it, Buldethian technology at its best?¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°Consider it an insurance policy on my behalf. I¡¯ll release her into your custody, free and clear, once I receive the first crystal,¡± Soel said, ¡°I¡¯m a soldier of my word.¡±

    ¡°You better keep it,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°The transport will guide you to my treasure. It has a robotic arm that should prove useful. If that fails there are environment suits folded in the sleeping compartment. We¡¯ll exchange the girl for the crystal at the Dofu Space Station before I¡¯m slated to relinquish the Neimun.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want that crystal so much you¡¯re willing to risk pissing me off? If anything happens to her, you¡¯ll wait and see your life flash before your eyes.¡±

    ¡°You have no options mercenary. I have your favorite crew member hostage. If you kill me, she dies, and you become an enemy of the empire and have nowhere to run. On the other hand, you work with me and you get a chance to save the empire, to get your ship back. When you put it all together, I am ensured that you won¡¯t blow off this task. I dare you to try and betray me.¡±

    Fade clenched his teeth, ¡°When do I leave for the crystal?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been pinpointed to a cliff on the western edge of mount Calderra. As a cover mission, you¡¯ll find out how vitrolo is being smuggled to my men and disrupt the supply chain. A good man is out of action because of that drug.¡±

    -----

    A smoky cold chilled deep as the sulfuric scent of burnt fusion liquid filled the docking bay which housed an S119 transport, a rectangular ship with low powered thrusters. The light duty Imperial transport had been repainted the black and red colors of the Buldethian fleet with the designation code S614 in red on the side. The Buldethian markings would be a help on Hakkut shortly, but Fade doubted how far he¡¯d get in Imperial space. He ascended the staircase of the prop that kept the vehicle from resting on its hover pads. The he inserted the key card. The locking sphere turned. He slid the hatch open. Two square windows dominated the control room. Bert took a seat in the back. Nicole smartly saluted her commander and then followed them inside. Ace came from the back of the fighter bay. He walked briskly past Lieutenant Soel with a quick salute and boarded the transport.

    ¡°Leaving so soon?¡± he asked once inside.

    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to say.¡±

    ¡°Where is that girl of yours? Isn¡¯t she going with you?¡±

    ¡°She''s some things to work out.¡±

    ¡°I see, so you got what you wanted already/¡±

    Fade seethed, but returned to his seat.

    ¡°Good luck out there, scum bag,¡± Ace said before leaving.

    ¡°You too.¡±

    Fade brooded as he waited for clearance. Nicole entered and sat beside him. He slammed his fist on steering console, denting the rubberized coating.

    ¡°Welcome aboard my transport. Paid with the blood of the innocent.¡±

    ¡°No one is completely innocent.¡±

    ¡°You think more like me than I do.¡±

    ¡°Is that an honor or an insult?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I think I could care less.¡±

    ¡°Then do so. Your mechanic reviewed the ship and cleared it for flight, everything is sealed up. She¡¯s ready to fly.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for permission.¡±

    ¡°The Lieutenant informed me that I¡¯ve been dismissed from his company. According to him, he knew me all along, even when the others were fooled, but I doubt it. He told me I¡¯ll be assisting you from here on out, unless I want to return disgraced to civilian life. I don¡¯t think he would have been so kind if he didn¡¯t begrudgingly respect me.¡±

    ¡°Care less about your life history.¡±

    ¡°Working with you is going to be¡­¡± she sighed, as permission to leave the docking bay came over the radio. The hatch of the Neimun opened.

    The muddy snowball with the brown ring over its center, the planet known as Hakkut, appeared. White wispy ice clouds flew around its poles, lasting for mere moments, and then appearing again. In the southern hemisphere Mount Caldera burned. The volcano used to be covered by deep glaciers.

    The Neimun warped out not long after the S119 reached a safe distance. Pink beams rose from the planet¡¯s equator to greet the arrival of the Buldethian fleet. Soel pulled a risky maneuver. He used the Neimun¡¯s hyperspace drives right after Fade¡¯s transport was free of the ship¡¯s influence to escape, but escaped with little time before the battle began.

    -----

    The remaining Buldethian Cruisers viciously returned fire against the aging planetary cannons. The capital city, Grand Hakunia, became covered in a mass of purple and pink explosions. Orange orbs spread over the temperate belt like an infection, leaving craters wherever they faded. Troop transports floated to the surface. Planetary infrastructure disintegrated under the weight of Buldethian guns. A consecutive series of explosions lit Hakkut¡¯s orbital space as the entire system of artificial satellites exploded. Debris peppered the S119 forcefully enough to cause its shields to activate. As the last desperate guns of the planetary garrison were silenced, they entered the southern hemisphere. Upon reaching the surface they hovered along the ground before shooting northward.

    Fade hollered for his lieutenant, ¡°Can we rig some weapons to this coffin?¡±

    ¡°If we can land at our base, I may be able to improvise something.¡±

    ¡°Something good?¡±

    ¡°This is an emergency evacuation transport. My options would be limited.¡±

    Bert turned to Nicole, ¡°Hey kid, anyone ever tell you that you got no meat on your bone?¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, he shrugged, ¡°Then again, not everyone is born stacked like myself.¡±

    Without so much as turning the back of her fist smacked Bert¡¯s jaw hard enough to make his teeth clatter.

    ¡°Sorry buddy, stronger than you look! We should fight some time. I¡¯d enjoy that.¡±

    Fade halted the transport before the personal entrance of his hanger. The small door remained partially buried amidst the snow, a thick glaze of ice covered it. Fade pulled the vehicle parallel to the door and waited for the heat of the transport¡¯s exhaust to melt the ice. Bert kicked the door open to loosen the remaining ice. Nothing remained inside. The front wall of the hanger stood like a deceptive prop on a movie set. An ugly series of shallow craters was littered with debris. Bert¡¯s lip quivered with an angry frown as he looked back. Fade had not seen the devastation on his approach, or he would have avoided the hanger altogether.

    ¡°It¡¯s gone! Everything but the wall we saw on the way here! It¡¯s all been gone. Worse, it was done long before the bombing started. The craters are about thirty-six hours old considering the snow pack. All my big guns were in there. All my big guns! They destroyed my big guns.¡±

    Fade shook his head, ¡°Then we don¡¯t have time for this place, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Bert couldn¡¯t stop looking towards his boots, ¡°What¡¯s next on the agenda?¡±

    ¡°I have to make a stop nearby.¡±

    Fade tucked in his uniform before tying his trench coat loosely.

 42. Calderra Dogfight

    Snow encased the Cozy Tavern past its windows. Paul¡¯s truck sat almost completely covered. Snow slid from the roof. Fade climbed out of the S119. His face went ashen at the caved door. Bert and Nicole punched and pushed snow up to their necks to clear the porch door. Fade dashed inside; he dove behind an overturned table. Bert aimed his laser pistol from the doorway. The place was frozen.

    Embers fought desperately against the wind as they flickered in the wood stove. They made their way across ice and broken glass to the bar counter. Bert walked behind it. A pool of blood froze to the floor. His shoulder bumped into bottle of rum. Alcoholic slush mixed with shards of glass as it crashed. They checked the homestead, which was warmer. The furnace struggled from inside the foundations of the building. Fade turned a lamp on and found a heavyset older woman facing him. Two men from the dark side of the living room aimed their rifles. The old woman stood, but held her gun with the barrel pointed at the floor.

    ¡°Friend or foe?¡± she asked in a stout voice hardened by a long career of cold weather, liquor, and cheap cigarettes.

    ¡°Friends,¡± Fade said, ¡°Bertha, where¡¯s Paul?¡±

    The rifle in her hands clicked as it came upwards.

    ¡°I ain¡¯t and never was any friend to you. What did you come back for?¡±

    ¡°Paul¡¯s in trouble if he stays here. I need to see him.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just come waltzin¡¯ in here with your mercenary friends like ya own the place! Thinking you can shout orders at me. Paul is dead, and only God knows what a creature like you has done to his daughter. They took his body aways, hoping you¡¯d come get it cause o¡¯ you. Does even her own father¡¯s corpse haveta get disgraced?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let that happen? Where¡¯d they take him.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Destiny? She ran away with you, so you ought to have her. Don¡¯t lie to me, what happened to the poor girl. I know she¡¯s not with you. That man won¡¯t rest in peace if his daughter isn¡¯t safe neither.¡±

    ¡°Taken hostage.¡±

    ¡°How dare you cause all this suffering. I¡¯d like to kill you right now, but that wouldn¡¯t bring her, or her father back.¡±

    ¡°She made her own damn choice, just. If I want her back, I have to retrieve some items. Kill me if you like, but then I won¡¯t get her back. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Paul¡¯s gone forever. To think you¡¯re the only person that girl has left makes me want to vomit a bucketful. You hear this mercenary, you better take good care of her. You better do everything in your power to keep her safe, because there isn¡¯t another girl like her.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me who was here?¡±

    ¡°Will it help you keep her alive?¡±

    ¡°No, I thought it might be a good idea to retrieve Paul¡¯s body before they disgrace it.¡±

    ¡°Right now, the living are more important. You don¡¯t need to know anything more from me. Now get, you¡¯re not welcome here.¡±

    ¡°Bertha, you always managed to cheer me up.¡±

    Fade and the others left the tavern with rifle barrels at their backs.

    -----

    They headed due east. Snow fields stretched before them as they pulled upwards. According to the holographic map, the crystal was on the slopes of Mount Calderra. Fade changed the course due south at maximum speed.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Is she always that friendly?¡± Nicole asked.

    ¡°Only when she¡¯s drunk,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°First time I¡¯ve ever met Bertha,¡± Bert laughed, ¡°She¡¯s like a good handful of woman!¡±

    After a half hour, the S119 hit the slopes of the great volcano and climbed upwards. Its back thrusters burned bright blue as Fade switched to flight mode for a speedier ascent. The hundred-year-old layer of ice underneath them cracked from the heat of molten material beneath it. Mount Calderra prepared to erupt. Warm geysers of air created ice mists and wind tunnels as they spewed from ground and collided with freezing air. The constant shaking of the S119 made working on the scanners to find the signature of the crystal difficult for Nicole.

    ¡°I¡¯m not getting a signature; but there¡¯s a crater nearby where the snow melted. We probably should explore it.¡±

    Fade shifted the vehicle into hover mode. The wide crater was a fairly recent development as the ice around the mountain was little more than a hundred years old. The scanner did not pick up the crystal¡¯s signal, and the coordinates on the holographic map did not refresh.

    ¡°It¡¯s not here,¡± Nicole said.

    ¡°That can¡¯t be right, unless someone else was here first.¡±

    ¡°The Buldethian army must have beat us to it,¡± Bert said as he clung to the cab entrance.

    Fade threw up his hands, ¡°What else can go wrong?¡±

    Nicole smirked, ¡°It just isn¡¯t your day, is it?¡±

    Fade leaned into the console, brooding.

    ¡°Maybe the crystal is buried and the ice is blocking the signal,¡± Bert suggested.

    ¡°The signal reception is based on proximity, and it can¡¯t be blocked,¡± Nicole explained.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°What¡¯s interesting?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been spotted. Ten dark angels are approaching from the west, they¡¯ll attack from above within two minutes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±

    ¡°Look at the radar screen.¡±

    The green specks closed the gap quickly. A larger fleet with an unknown assault cruiser of slower speed approached from the east. Fade put the S119 in motion and flew it dangerously low, only half a meter above the terrain.

    ¡°I guess they¡¯re here for nothing too,¡± Fade snapped. ¡°I didn¡¯t bargain for this. An unarmed transport against the latest and greatest fighters. Great odds.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, they¡¯ve spotted us,¡± Nicole said.

    The S119 descended into Caldera canyon, an icy fissure with a stream of molten material flowing in its depths. Ice stalactites broke from unstable walls as heat rose from below. Limestone boulders crumbled as forceful winds channeled through the canyon. The S119 avoided an avalanche by centimeters. The two dark angels following it most closely didn¡¯t. A torrent of ice and limestone pushed them to the depths.

    Another duo of dark angel fighters took their place. Fade pushed the S119 so close to the side of the canyon that a pointed cliff scratched its armor. Hot black smoke escaped from the ventilated exhaust system. The dark angels flew into the black cloud without hesitation. It beckoned them with the expectation of an easy kill.

    ¡°You¡¯re losing control of the ship,¡± Nicole warned.

    ¡°He has a plan. They always seem to work out in the end,¡± Bert said, digging his fingers into her shoulders to keep from being thrown to the back.

    One dark angel smashed directly into a horizontal rock formation, while the other lost its wings before spiraling to the bottom as the canyon narrowed.

    ¡°You certainly earned your reputation, captain,¡± came a voice over the communications panel, ¡°but we won¡¯t make the same mistakes twice.¡±

    Fade accepted the call.

    ¡°So, you know. Go ahead and run. I won¡¯t chase you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s funny. You have a lot of balls. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    Fade smiled, ¡°Don¡¯t have one. You lost four fighters, isn¡¯t that enough? Give me a break here.¡±

    ¡°Sorry Captain, I have my orders.¡±

    Fade navigated a sharp curve upwards before the canyon narrowed. Two fighters were on his tail. The S119 grazed the canyon wall again, which unleashed debris. The enemy fired through it, but it protected the backside of the transport. More smoke poured through the hull as the exhaust for the atmospheric drive sputtered out. An explosion shook its engine. Thick black smoke rolled profusely from the transport¡¯s side. The S119 swerved upwards to leave the canyon. A dark angel turned to follow too late and exploded within the tightest gap of the fissure.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry captain,¡± came the voice over communications, ¡°You may be a transport pilot, but I¡¯ve never had this much of a challenge. It¡¯ll be an honor to finish you.¡±

    The surface of the remaining dark angel held a collection of fresh dents and splintered metal. One of the engines burned with a smoke trail behind it. It sped on a collision course with the S119 from below.

    ¡°If it¡¯s suicide you want, then I guess I have to oblige.¡±

    Fade swerved as he turned the vehicle directly into the enemy fighter. The transport¡¯s front rammed the wing in midair. Bert flew into the passenger compartment. Nicole and Fade pushed back into their seats. The dark angel spiraled into the ice below as the S119 swerved again in the direction of the temperate zones.

    ¡°He should have known about the heavy conventional armor these transports pack,¡± Fade explained, ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have tried that tactic.¡±

    ¡°Where do they get idiots like this?¡± Nicole asked, rubbing her head.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good question. Care to answer it for me?¡±

    ¡°I was talking about you.¡±

 43. Find And Seek

    An endless ocean of ice and snow stretched before them. Nicole could barely perceive movement on the visual for a half hour.

    ¡°Are we going in circles?¡±

    ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡± Fade asked.

    ¡°Anything¡¯s better than wasting time. Especially when one of the drive systems has been disabled.¡±

    ¡°Does anyone really know what the crystal looks like?¡±

    ¡°You want to try giving him a fake, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t think of it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so suspicious. I¡¯m on your side.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Stop being such a cynic! I wouldn¡¯t have said it if I didn¡¯t mean it. Anyone who wants to rip off Soel is a friend of mine.¡±

    A wrecked hover car stuck in a snow dune appeared first on the scanner and then the visuals. The S119 made a harsh landing parallel to the front lights of the stranded vehicle. A young man with a serious acne problem hunched over the wheel, half asleep, moaning for help. Fade snatched a wallet from the young man¡¯s pocket. The identification card of Paul Payson was inside, along with three hundred Haricons. With eyes glowing a faint red, Fade pulled the guy out of the car and threw him into another snow drift. That woke the guy up and he pulled himself up. He grunted as he ran forward and attempted a clumsy punch. Fade dodged it before slamming a foot into his stomach. The young man became a shivering, submissive mass of clay.

    ¡°What do you want man? I don¡¯t got no problems with you.¡±

    ¡°Then you don¡¯t know who I am. Where¡¯d you get this wallet?¡±

    ¡°I found it lying around.¡±

    ¡°Strike one!¡± Fade lifted him by the collar, ¡°Who do you work for?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t work for nobody man, honest.¡±

    The revolver came out of its holster.

    ¡°Strike two! Where¡¯s your boss hiding?¡±

    ¡°Tigo and the gang are going to thrash you if you kill me.¡±

    ¡°Tell me where they are.¡±

    ¡°The warehouse complex at 123 Newton Square, but it¡¯s probably been destroyed by the bombing. Do you have some kind of death wish?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s stranded,¡± Fade dropped the man by his vehicle before jumping back into the transport.

    ¡°Keep warm,¡± Fade said.

    He fired a round into the disabled hover vehicle¡¯s engine for measure. The acne faced man shook his fist as the transport flew off.

    ¡°I hope Tigo slices your freakin¡¯ head off. You¡¯re a dead man. You hear me stupid, a dead man!¡±

    -----

    Back on the Neimun, some aesthetic changes had been made to the former controller¡¯s office. The Buldethian flags were replaced by banners of white with the stripe of imperial purple. The carpet had been cleaned, and the large screen behind the main seat showed space from various angles. A captured Buldethian technician typed at a small desk. He transferred the Neimun¡¯s files to a personal computer as Lieutenant Soel and the doctor watched impatiently. The communication console¡¯s video device announced an incoming signal from fleet headquarters. Lieutenant Soel stopped the work and pushed the tech aside.

    ¡°Stay out of sight.¡±

    General Dispaer, looking a bit ill, appeared on screen, ¡°Congratulations on your promotion to Colonel. You performed admirably. We¡¯ll rendezvous in thirty-five standard hours over the Dofu Space Station. The changing of the guard will take place at the thirty-sixth hour. Would you like the privilege of renaming the Neimun?¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it would be more appropriate if the Imperial Fleet handles that. I¡¯m more concerned about future assignments.¡±

    ¡°We plan to rest and refit your group. I¡¯ve recommended that your company be upgraded to brigade strength, so you¡¯re going to need time accepting and getting acquainted with new volunteers. It¡¯s a good thing the Imminent Destruction stayed loyal. Is Captain Defacto dead?¡±

    ¡°No, I took the liberty of rescuing him in payment for his loyalty. He¡¯s been dispatched from the Neimun. I need his skills to deal with a common enemy, the drug cartels that are corrupting my soldiers. Since he is without a cruiser, the new assignment suits him perfectly.¡±

    Dispaer¡¯s mood lightened, ¡°Sounds like a difficult task. You¡¯ll have to pay him on your own. There¡¯ll be no further monetary compensation for any mercenary; unfortunately, not even Captain Defacto. The Imperial Senate has officially disbanded the Independent Battle Fleet. They would have offered him a post in the regular fleet, but there¡¯s the unfortunate matter of the conviction for a previous desertion. They don¡¯t want to take any more chances.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. I didn¡¯t know he was ever in the military, much less a deserter. Though I don¡¯t have any doubts concerning his performance.¡±

    General Dispaer smiled, ¡°I see an understanding has developed between the two of you. That¡¯s heartening in this age of bitter hatred.¡±

    ¡°You could say that. Is the Empire still paying the private bounty hunters?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t require loyalty, so I see no reason such a bad move would be made. They¡¯ve been of great service.¡±

    ¡°Good, I hope to get some use out of him, as a bounty hunter, before he dies.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a cynical way to speak about a comrade.¡±

    Soel smiled, ¡°I¡¯m a cynical person. And don¡¯t get the wrong impression, he¡¯s not a comrade.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with your hunting then.¡±

    General Dispaer¡¯s picture blinked off. Colonel Soel adjusted his computer before terminating the communication. The technician went back to work, deleting any sign of his presence in the Neimun¡¯s computer system. Soel used another computer to access a tracking device inside the internal structure of the S119, which approached Grand Hakkunia, the planetary capital of Hakkut.

    ¡°How¡¯s the hostage?¡± Soel asked the doctor.

    ¡°Resting. The micro-robotics will keep her in a state of induced hibernation for as long as a month, or until you command them to dissolve. Whether she¡¯s still alive after the bots terminate is completely up to you.¡±

    ¡°Do you have anything that could force total obedience? Some hypnosis parlor trick wouldn¡¯t do.¡±

    ¡°We do. However, fifty percent of the subjects disobey commands they find most objectionable and ninety-nine percent die within the first two days through massive cerebral hemorrhages. Total obedience remains an abstract concept. The judicature must rely on limited obedience, cultivated through the intelligent use of force and proper education.¡±

    ¡°Too bad. I could¡¯ve used something like that on the mercenary. Once I give the girl back, I won¡¯t have any collateral. And I¡¯m not sure he¡¯s simply going to forgive and forget.¡±

    ¡°Once you have a crystal, the collateral issue will be moot.¡±

    ¡°And what if the mercenary fails?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t. He¡¯s a product of your guild. But if he does, he¡¯ll be the least of your worries.¡±

    -----

    They neared the edge of Grand Hakkunia. The dome shaped buildings that characterized the capital of Hakkut came into site along with the battered imperial cannons and the craters that used to be launching stations. The blue sun shone brilliantly and the outside temperature registered a cool five degrees. The communication screen activated with a call from Colonel Soel.

    ¡°What¡¯s your progress, Mercenary Defacto?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have your crystal one way or the other. I still have some business to take care of, then I¡¯ll head out for the Jovian sector of the Sol system.¡±

    ¡°You better be quick about it. I don¡¯t know how long I can keep my hands off the collateral.¡±

    Fade almost dove the vehicle into the ground.

    ¡°He¡¯s holding her hostage!¡± Nicole gasped.

    ¡°I was trying to be diplomatic. My good sweet soldier didn¡¯t know the full extent of our deal.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch her,¡± Fade rolled the chamber to make sure his revolver was loaded, ¡°Or I¡¯ll make sure you eat your fingers for breakfast.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t, though I¡¯m quite tempted. She¡¯s been in the care of my doctor, for now. For her sake, you better not fail.¡±

    Nicole leaned slightly on the control panel, watching the buildings outside the window take shape. Only a few remained standing. The city smoldered in ruins from the Buldethian bombardment.

    ¡°If he hasn¡¯t done anything, it¡¯s only to prevent pissing you off,¡± Nicole said, ¡°The Lieutenant is a sick man. It¡¯d be nothing for him to take advantage of your girlfriend if she¡¯s just a provincial.¡±

    ¡°Sergeant Payson is not my girlfriend,¡± Fade said, swerving the S119 over a snow bank. ¡°Nevertheless; he¡¯s going to eat his fingers for breakfast if he does anything. Helpless or not, she¡¯s part of my crew, and he better respect it.¡±

    ¡°He made a deal with you. He won¡¯t touch her unless you fail.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a flying damn,¡± Fade snapped.

    ¡°What are you even on?! Where¡¯s Bert?¡±

    Fade switched over to the main road, keeping low. Newton Square wasn¡¯t a square; it was a back alley in a mostly abandoned industrial sector of the city. Some of the once large warehouses, refineries, and factories were now piles of wreckage, but most of the area had been spared. Fade lowered the transport onto a still functioning parking pad, deposited a ten Harnicor note into the meter, and received a five in change. Bert and Nicole were right behind him.

    ¡°One of you has to stay and watch the vehicle,¡± Fade said, ¡°I¡¯d suggest you flip a coin if you¡¯re both so eager to help me.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one in the transport, I¡¯ll get it,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°This really isn¡¯t our fight anyway,¡± Nicole protested as she looked after Bert. Before they realized it, Fade left.

    ¡°Sneaky bastard!¡± Bert exclaimed.

    The crystal scanner activated without warning. Bert and Nicole leaned over the console to stare at it.

 44. First Crystal

    A cement warehouse with a makeshift ceiling of slanted tin sheets stood in the center of the square. A garage entrance and a rusted iron door with a dull knob were the options at the back. Fade decided to try the door and found it unlocked. Cool damp air swirled about inside. Dawn peered quietly through corrosion holes in the tin ceiling. Unsettled dust swirled about in rays of light. No shelves, no stacks, no boxes, just fifty square meters of unused floor space and one scurrying rat. Crimson boots put marks on the dust as Fade walked further inside. A series of narrow cone pillars supported the structure. Clicking came from the metal plank of an elevated walkway. The garage door opened behind him.

    The old man with the crooked eyes entered with Snake. The sun shone behind them. Snake rolled up his sleeves to reveal arms tattooed with blue reptilian scales. The head of a snake tattooed on the top of his left hand with the tail dyed on the top of his right. The old man drew two squat silver handguns and immediately fired a blend of lasers and armor piercing bullets. Fade rolled behind the sparse cover of a support beam and pulled his laser pistol from his coat. Snake charged to punch the pillar before Fade could fire. It crumbled.

    The uppermost half, smashed downward. Fade dodged into the open. The old man fired again; Fade sidestepped in range of Snake¡¯s fist, which sent him sliding across the grimy floor until his back slammed against a cinder block wall. Fade recovered quickly to roll behind another support beam. He slid the laser pistol in its holster, drew his revolver, and fired. The old man dropped both his guns as bullet shards cracked his wrists.

    The next shot, split by Fade¡¯s scalpel technique, scored a direct hit through both Snake¡¯s knee-caps. But the big man didn¡¯t fall.

    Snake ripped out the pillar and pulled it from the roof. In his arms the steel and cement support beam became like a giant baseball bat. Snake swung it, but Fade jumped over it, then pushed himself backwards while aiming his revolver.  The second swing missed with inches to spare. Snake merited an entire bullet, which would have gone through his thick skull if the behemoth had not lifted a concrete pillar in front of himself. Fade heard movement behind him.

    The leather heel of a fancy shoe kicked the back of his neck. The force sent him under the far end of the concrete pillar held by Snake, who smiled as he dropped it. Fade rolled away before it smashed apart on the floor. He aimed his revolver at the well-dressed young man with jet-black hair, Tigo Ganthor. Tigo smirked through thin lips; he held a black leather jacket over his back with one hand, and kept a conventional pistol aimed at Fade with the other.

    ¡°You want the girl¡¯s old man, right?¡± Tigo said, ¡°He¡¯s waiting upstairs, but a little tied up at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Too bad he¡¯s already dead,¡± Fade grinned.

    ¡°You can¡¯t know that! If you did, why¡¯d you come. Coming here means death for you, but you came anyway, even though we don¡¯t have the bait. Not that it matters much now that your here, because you¡¯re a dead man, but hey, to each his own.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t overestimate yourself just because you¡¯re former Spirit Guild.¡±

    Tigo continued his smirk as he stared down the barrel of Fade¡¯s revolver.

    ¡°You¡¯re Tigo Ganthor, right? How does it feel to be a big time crime boss on a planet with nothing worth stealing?¡±

    ¡°You want to know? I¡¯ll tell you. Hakkut is nothing more than a springboard. Now, you¡¯re going to take a little trip to the Buldethian authorities after you die.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not dead yet.¡±

    Tigo fired and dodged, whereas Fade only dodged. Both men took cover.

    ¡°So, we¡¯re equals at this game,¡± Tigo yelled from behind a pillar, ¡°Too bad you have to reload soon.¡±

    Snake picked up the steel rod from the crumbled cement beam like a halberd and thrust it at Fade¡¯s cover, which forced him to dodge into a dark corner. Fade shuffled his feet as the beam stabbed for his chest. He dodged it to the left yet it came again quickly. One of the attacks tore the uniform under Fade¡¯s coat. He felt the large bloody abrasion as metal filed skin. Every time Fade moved, the steel beam jabbed at him, and if he got too close it was swung at him. He retreated back in a corner, where he shifted to the side, temporally out of reach. He rolled behind a narrow pillar in the shadow and ducked low. Snake finally lost him. Fade breathed lightly to prevent being easily heard.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget poor Snake,¡± Tigo yelled, ¡°If you so much as shuffle your feet he¡¯ll locate and attack. You see, he¡¯s what is known as a G-freak, a genetic enhancement gone horribly right, but not for you. Please excuse him for not introducing himself earlier, he¡¯s rather shy.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Fade said.

    Another support beam crumbled through Snake¡¯s power attacks, but Fade already ran for the other side of the warehouse. Snake batted him against the wall. Fade rolled behind the support beam in front of the door, only to stand up again.

    ¡°Impossible!¡± Tigo groaned, ¡°Hit him again.¡±

    ¡°Heh,¡± Snake said, ¡°I¡¯m not stupid enough to let him escape.¡±

    Snake threw the reinforced steel javelin at the door. Fade jumped on it. He darted, then jumped at Snake with his revolver ready. The first bullet ricocheted from between his eyes. The second lodged in the left eye, and the third went through the right eye. Fade emptied the blanks from the revolver, the click of shells into his palm echoed through the building. Despite the wounds, Snake didn¡¯t fall; he stood moaning with his hands over his forehead. A loose ceiling panel dropped sideways with enough force to split that thick skull. Snake collapsed with a heavy thud that shoo the warehouse. Tin paneling rained over top of him.

    The rain of panels helped Fade avoid Tigo¡¯s gunshots as he slipped out the garage. Tigo felt a tin panel slam against his back, knock him down, and pin his body beneath it. Fade waited until the rubble settled and looked around. The old man, Tigo, and Snake were buried under the ruble. He was about to hike back when the panels shifted. The panel that had fallen on Tigo flew over the wall of the warehouse and crashed into the stone drive. Tigo lunged from the center of the rubble, only scratched. He kicked Fade into the driveway. The next kick saw Fade fly a few meters upwards. A spinning mid-air roundhouse sent him back into the debris.

    ¡°You¡¯re impressive, mercenary. I suspect you were once guild material yourself. Too bad you¡¯re so young, I¡¯m far more experienced.¡±

    Tigo aimed his fist at Fade¡¯s shoulder, but Fade rolled before it connected and Tigo wound up punching the ground. The stones beneath Tigo¡¯s fist broke with a small crater left.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t even near full power,¡± Tigo said.

    Fade kicked him, rolled backwards, and jumped up. Both men were now on even guard. Tigo drew his weapon and began firing at close range. Fade dodged every shot with unnaturally nimble movements. Tigo threw the depleted weapon to the ground.

    ¡°Now it¡¯s time for you to gain a few decades.¡±

    A spherical crystal¡¯s unmarred surface radiated the fairest blue light as Tigo lifted it from his jacket. Blood spewed from Tigo¡¯s chest as a burn crisscrossed his clothes. The crystal fell from his cupped hands and rolled to Fade. Bert kept his model forty-two aimed because Tigo remained standing despite the wound.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have any pride? I thought you fought alone.¡±

    ¡°I used the laser pistol at full power,¡± Bert said, dismayed, ¡°He should have been disintegrated. Hey, we got a bead on the crystal.¡±

    ¡°Already have it,¡± Fade said.

    Tigo collapsed. Fade reloaded his revolver as he knelt over Tigo¡¯s corpse.

    ¡°Go back to the transport and bring a blanket.¡±

    ¡°You want me to do what?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s guild. Just do it.¡±

    ¡°Waste of a blanket if ya ask me.¡±

    Bert returned a few minutes later. Fade covered Tigo¡¯s body and placed an implosion grenade at each end of the wreckage. The warehouse pulled together through gravitational implosion as the S119 flew from the city.

    -----

    Debris tapped against the hull as the S119 escaped Hakkut¡¯s orbit. It was like trying fly between the rain drops. Molten lava gushed from the spout of Mount Caldera. The dual moons of Ameena and Dion continued their defiant eternal dance as they stretched the debris field. Once the transport navigated out of orbit, Fade set the newly captured crystal in a transparent case on the console.

    ¡°Is that the one he wants?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s the one he¡¯s getting.¡±

    ¡°We were lucky enough to come across it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not luck, it¡¯s skill.¡±

    ¡°Humble as always. Too bad we can¡¯t sell it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get a job,¡± Fade said, ¡°They always seem to come along.¡±

    ¡°And barely keep us alive,¡± Bert said, finishing the sentence while pulling a cigarette from his pocket, ¡°What are we going to do with Kitten?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to call a favor, get her set at the Imperial Technical Academy.¡±

    ¡°What? We¡¯ll never pay that off.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get it done. It¡¯s the least I can do. Besides, she has nowhere else to go. And it¡¯ll get her out of the way. Women are nothing but problems. ¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re tellin¡¯ me.¡±

    Nicole entered the bridge and stood behind Bert, ¡°Talking about women like you know something?¡±

    ¡°What would you know, squirt?¡±

    ¡°Is this your first time, Fade?¡± Nicole asked.

    ¡°First time for what?¡± Fade asked

    ¡°The first time you¡¯ve ever been in love?¡± Nicole asked slyly, ¡°You seem to have it bad for your Sargeant. Soel wouldn¡¯t have kidnapped her if he didn¡¯t suspect something emotional.¡±

    ¡°You got it all wrong. I Don¡¯t have emotions.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right kid! Never thought of it that way. Geez, I think he¡¯s even turnin¡¯ a little red. Isn¡¯t this special. I would¡¯ve never guessed you was the type.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t love anyone. Love is for those who don¡¯t have anything better to do.¡±

    Bert set the destination of the transport as Fade stared at the crystal.

    Fade stood, ¡°I¡¯m going to take a rest. You two take over.¡±

    Bert waited for him to leave and then started speaking, ¡°The Imminent Destruction landed on Weift, in the Golan Star System. Fade arranged it that way. He keeps its exact coordinates tracked, but I do too. You can be sure of one thing. He cares enough to rescue Kitten before getting his cruiser back in order. That¡¯s saying a lot. The ship is a money pit. It ain¡¯t profitable but he¡¯s tied to it. There was a connection between them. I should know. I was the only other living creature there before Kitten showed up. We had some good battles.¡±

    ¡°You know him well?¡± Nicole asked.

    ¡°I left the military to help him out,¡± Bert sighed, ¡°Known him for almost ten years, when he was just a pup. An eleven year old killer. Hell, he¡¯s still a pup.¡±

    ¡°He has a thing for that girl, doesn¡¯t he?¡±

    Bert frowned, ¡°Who¡¯s to say? I don¡¯t pretend to know. I was just tryin¡¯ to make him nervous. I make a habit of it. I¡¯m not really the carin¡¯ type either. I go with the flow.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m eager to find out.¡±

    Bert gave her a look of consternation, ¡°You got to be kiddin¡¯! I ought to knock some sense into you. Maybe you have a little crush on Kitten yourself.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Nicole laughed, ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

 45. Traffic Jams

    The Marfos asteroid appeared as a dark blotch in front of Cygni-12, Hakkut¡¯s enormous blue star. It was a giant rock of halted rotation with a circular jump terminal anchored to its night side. A super-conductive metal lined the inside of the ring. Power boxes attached to the rim at evenly spaced intervals provided the soft iridescent blue which made the local warp space anomaly glow. Multiple wires, each fifty kilometers long, extended from the outer edges of the portal to their anchors on the surface of Marfos. The S119 joined a stream of refugee vessels from Hakkut, a mix of transports, freighters and a few vessels from the defeated imperial garrison.

    ¡°I guess they want to get to Sol before one side or the other blows that bridge,¡± Bert said, ¡°I¡¯ll have to move us within the shadow of Marfos; otherwise, the heat from Cygni will overwhelm the cooling systems that you so graciously damaged.¡±

    ¡°Ha, ha,¡± Fade whispered before laying flat to take a short nap.

    As Bert maneuvered the S119 toward the planet¡¯s shadow, other vehicles approaching the terminal positioned themselves to block him. At first Bert thought it was a coincidence, but after being pushed back into the light a second and third time his suspicions were confirmed. The tight traffic within the shadow made those within reluctant to allow newcomers entry, in fear of losing their own positions.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to die out here if someone doesn¡¯t make space for us,¡± Bert radioed.

    ¡°That¡¯s your problem, not mine,¡± someone radioed back.

    ¡°Pulling back to Hakkut isn¡¯t an option,¡± Bert said as more hostile messages filtered through, then finally a friendly voice broke the monotony.

    ¡°I¡¯m a green freighter about twelve kilometers away from the portal. I¡¯m saving some space in front of me. How long will it take you to get here.¡±

    ¡°Thirty seconds,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°OK pilot. I won¡¯t be able to see you on my blind side because my cameras aren¡¯t working. You¡¯ll have to be exact, or the people behind me will be quick to fill the gap.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t I pull in front of you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pulling a five kilometer train of freight. If you want to risk getting fried, sure thing. You better appreciate this now. This old freighter doesn¡¯t handle sudden speed bursts well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more than grateful.¡±

    Bert pulled ahead at full speed. When he reached the back of the freighter it pulled ahead suddenly, leaving a gap for Bert to squeeze the transport into. The vehicle tried to close the gap and hit the S119¡¯s backside. It veered out of the shady path and its spot filled before it could recover.

    ¡°Moron! He would¡¯ve been better off just to let me enter.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not our problem now,¡± Nicole said.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way I could help even if I wanted to. It¡¯s a real shame. Nah, not really.¡±

    The freighter that allowed Bert to cut in behind finally entered the center of the portal, dragging its five kilometer train of storage compartments. The smaller vehicles passed through at the sides, which was no doubt allowed, for the portal was built to handle such one-way traffic, but larger transports also began forcing their way through. The extra pressure on the century old portal systems caused the blue iridescence to disappear for a mere second. The freighter got sliced from over two kilometers of its cargo. The containers separated, bombarding incoming traffic before heading for the surface of Marfos.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A cargo container smashed into the support system of the portal, further compromising a dented section. Vehicles fought to race through before the portal¡¯s inevitable collapse. Civility disintegrated on the shadowed side of Marfos.

    The back end of a cargo container floated backward into the S119 and threw them a kilometer backwards. Bert avoided the fighting and pulled close to the portal again, only to be pushed back by another transport. A military gunship rammed the transport out of the line, then a freighter pushing at high speed smacked the gunship and sent it careening to the wrong side of the terminal hoop.

    The freighter, thrown off course by the collision, crashed into the base of a support leg. The collision again forced Bert to pull back further. The gunship, still operable, rammed the terminal rim from the other side. The portal¡¯s legs cracked. The planet¡¯s gravity took over. Bert pushed the transport forward with all its auxiliary power. He raced against the fall of the portal itself, and the possibility of being smashed by its heavy rim. Meanwhile, Fade remained sprawled across one of the back seats, neither falling nor awakening as his equipment floated around him.

    -----

    As the portal structure crashed towards the surface of Marfos, the portal itself remained alive with a bright blue glow. The S119 sped to catch it. The top of the entry loop smashed into the back end. The collision flipped the transport through the portal.

    Now disabled because of a crushed backside, the S119 transport twirled violently from the exit portal. Fade hit the wall of the vehicle in the zero-gravity environment of the cabin. Awake, he decided to take the pilot seat. He succeeded in stabilizing the S119 by placing it in orbit around the portal¡¯s nearby space station orbiting Sol between Jupiter and Saturn.

    The space station and rest stop accommodated portal traffic. A great cylinder with three thick rings lined its body. Between each ring were rows of garages large enough to accommodate regular freighters and transports. Long cargo freighters wrapped the cylinder spires at each end of the station with freight boxes attached like sausage links. The rings of the station that shone darkly contained the habitation areas, miniature towns for weary travelers.

    The controls of the S119 tightened as its maneuverability minimized; the thinning air suggested a hull breach. The transaction devices on the hull were out of commission, a situation that would prevent payment of the docking fee. Fade contacted the entry tower over communications.

    ¡°Lander S119,¡± said a business like female voice, ¡°ground code 47AV71. We can¡¯t allow landing unless docking fees are assured. Please place your asset card against a window and we¡¯ll photograph it for manual examination. Is there anyone you know here who can assure your credentials?¡±

    Fade placed his card against the screen, ¡°Contact Morris Delfi of Delfi¡¯s eatery. Tell him Fade is pulling in a disabled transport and ask him to please hurry with the confirmation.¡±

    ¡°Fly around the perimeter until verification is complete. Do not enter the transit way. If you attempt anything desperate, we won¡¯t hesitate to open fire. Have a nice day, and thank you for your patronage.¡±

    The uncompromisingly thin became more difficult to breathe as the station was uncompromisingly slow. After circling the station three times, Fade lost patience. Luckily, the necessity of rushing in was averted when the station announced his clearance for a garage in sector three, above the highest ring. A gigantic holograph of a young girl in a tight, neon-yellow, one-piece bathing suit appeared, complemented by a construction hat atop her simmering red hair. The holograph also wielded a wrench, a wink, and a smile as she lifted her left heel behind her thigh. The words: [Repair Services, We Operate Shops In All Sectors Of This Station], floated above and below the holograph. Bert whistled at it.

    ¡°If all the other mechanics looked like that, I¡¯d get myself a business partner real quick.¡±

    The S119¡¯s thrusters forced maximum velocity to achieve a final push into the garage. It slammed into its holding mechanism. The locking arm suspended from the ceiling broke. The personal walk to the side groaned as it pushed outward and over to slant awkwardly downwards from the vehicle. The S119¡¯s engines died, but the remaining kinetic energy hooked it firmly against the safety rails of the catwalk, which were supposed to be a meter away from the hull. Gravity reestablished as air filled the garage. An emergency locking arms secured the ship from the side and the bottom in lieu of the overhead arm, which crashed into the chasm below.

    The secondary blue garage door closed with a hiss as the transport¡¯s landing gear extended.

 46. Home Turf?

    Bert rolled back the cabin carpeting and lifted the engine access panel. A plume of gray steam pushed against his face. He winced. The battery melted into the propulsion drives, and the usually blue fluid in the fuel rods was a brackish gray. Bert snapped on heavily insulated gloves before pulling out one of the rods with a set of toothed titanium tongs. The cooling liquid boiled into steam that left droplets over everything inside the vehicle.

    ¡°What¡¯s the verdict?¡± Nicole asked.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t know by now, you¡¯re pretty hopeless,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s have it,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°The cooling system¡¯s busted, that caused the rods to overheat and melt the battery into propulsion drives. Luckily for us the safety features kept us from becoming a bomb. The entire drive, gravity, and power system: worthless. We¡¯re talking about a hundred thousand Haricons to get her replaced, and that¡¯s not even thinkin¡¯ about the damage to hull. I can make her work for planetary travel, but only short term.¡±

    In the bridge, Fade entered the code ¡®Open Wound¡¯ on a concealed key panel. A post extended from the floor by the side of the captain¡¯s chair. The crystal flew upwards into a holder with a muffled thump. Fade pulled it out and dropped it in the pocket of his trench coat, then sealed the straps. In the passenger compartment, he found the case with the money from Miss Howards, fifty thousand Haricons. The outside hatch only opened only sixty centimeters before jamming, Bert forced it upwards with his hands, gaining only three and half extra centimeters.

    ¡°It¡¯s stuck now,¡± Bert said, ¡°The dogfight with Buldeths pushed the frame inwards all across the hatch, moved everything way past tolerances.¡±

    They were forced to slither out of the S119 one at time. Fade left last. Bert pushed on the S119¡¯s hatch from the outside to no avail before examining the burnt thrusters on the back of the hull. They crunched tightly together; their frames melted into the exhaust openings. The walls of the ship¡¯s fuselage remained mostly intact.

    An old woman in a mechanics overalls joined them on the platform. She had a full, yet wrinkled face with prominent lines around the eyes and at the sides of her lips. Her blue shirt was stained with oil and her worn boots were badly scuffed at the toe. An electronic stun device hung from her side pocket by a communications radio.

    She almost grabbed Bert, ¡°What¡¯s the purpose in wrecking our garages like this? Are you the owner of this vessel?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Fade said.

    ¡°Mr. Delfi has agreed to pay your docking fees for today only. If you don¡¯t renew within twenty four hours we reserve the right to confiscate your vehicle. Not that a piece of scrap like this would do us much good. And I don¡¯t think you want to stick Mr. Delfi with the fines and clean-up fees.¡±

    The old woman scanned the sides of the transport, then swiped the thruster wall with her finger and examined the crusty black dirt.

    ¡°The thruster walls are burnt out, from the direction of the shock marks it looks like you were hit from above. The exhaust holes are cramped together, they must have overheated from the stress. Your outer hatch needs replaced. I bet the engine¡¯s shot too. If it turns out you have the money and care about the vehicle, I¡¯ll work on her, but I¡¯d recommend having it hauled for scrap. I¡¯m Rebecca Dellias, manager of Repair Services. As long as you pay all the fees, my services will be on call. I¡¯ll give you an estimate on any work you request for ten Haricons.¡±

    ¡°False advertising,¡± Bert said, ¡°I want the red head in the bathing suit, not some withered old hag.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re one in the same. Only holographs don¡¯t age, people do, at least the unmodified variety.¡±

    ¡°You modeled for that?¡± Nicole asked.

    ¡°It seemed like fun fifty years ago. I never thought they¡¯d use it this long, and they refuse to use another model.¡±

    Rebecca frowned as she handed Fade her card. The black suit case flew into Bert¡¯s arms. It pushed him back against the guard rails.

    ¡°I have my own mechanic, so we¡¯ll only require parts.¡±

    Rebecca looked at Bert, then at Nicole.

    ¡°Which one?¡± she asked.

    ¡°The one holding the case.¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s not allowed to conduct repairs here without a license from the station authority. He can supervise me if you like, but I still get full pay.¡±

    ¡°Listen Grandma,¡± Bert growled, ¡°If this ship gets repair, it¡¯s goin¡¯ to be by my hands only. I don¡¯t need some old bat meddlin¡¯ with my work, and if you ain¡¯t worth nothin¡¯ ya shouldn¡¯t get paid nothin¡¯ either.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t repair it, just make sure we¡¯re paid for its disposal and your time here, or you¡¯ll be thrown out along with it.¡±

    Rebecca left on those terms, leaving Bert to mumble under his breath. Fade found the interface computer near the hatch. It gave him a paper card with his registration number and a one-day key to the garage. The halls led to the core of the station. A large screen at the side wall displayed station information. There was a public restroom to the left as well as a few vending machines and some network consoles, but the main purpose of the hub was access to the garages and storage. The inner corridors of the third rim were lined with numbered hatches resembling triangles with flattened tops; they were all doors to rented rooms. Advertisement boards, screens, holographic advertisements, and a sign announcing that rim three was the secure lodging facility broke the pattern of garage doors. Signs hung from the center of the ceiling indicating the locations of shops, payment centers, and station service centers. The economy of the sparsely populated station was completely dependent on commerce; hence freight captains, tourists, and travelers.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The windowed, wide, outer halls were populated with a few hundred refugees from the Hakkut system. Most of the refugees stood in line at the counters for hotel accommodations. Several children played tag in the halls. A few relieved couples nestled into each other at the benches. A well-dressed man argued with a clerk for deluxe accommodations, repeating his name; Arch Stanton III, constantly and loudly, as if it were an oath. A black jacketed man with bright purple hair leaned on the short metal separation wall of an internet booth to watch two freighter captains complain about their losses in the portal disaster. An older man in a worn coat leaned against a window while he sharpened a smooth ivory-handled knife with a laser sharpening device; he stared at his work every half minute through a glass attached to his eye. Finally, a sign above pointed the way to Delfi¡¯s eatery.

    A holographic cowgirl in tight jeans shorts and a short flannel top pushed her Imperial Blend beer toward Bert. He smiled at her with a lustful glance. The open views into space became more pronounced as they reached the eatery. The station passed Uranus, a tiny bluish green disc amidst the stars. Neptune, without magnification, appeared as a bright, fast-moving star with a blue tint. Nicole broke from the group and stood silently in front of the window.

    ¡°I never get tired of the view here. If only that ringed planet were out, I¡¯ve seen it three times from here, but it¡¯s so rare. I¡¯ve never seen another planet like it. This system amazes me.¡±

    Fade stopped and stared blankly in the direction of the eatery.

    ¡°We¡¯re here on business. Don¡¯t forget that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so uptight. You¡¯ll get her back.¡±

    Fade continued at a steady pace while the others kept up until they approached a large screen displaying footage from the battle in the Hacetion sector; the Dorian warped into subspace as a bright white light enveloped the screen before it vanished. They watched silently as the news commentator flashed back; an older man with thick black glasses.

    ¡°Buldethian losses in the Hacetion battle and the subsequent fighting on Hakkut are estimated at over twenty ships of the line and five hundred thousand soldiers while Imperial Casualties were kept lower than twenty thousand. The Dorian escaped the battle after receiving minor structural damage because, as quoted by Admiral Igito Norima in a statement to the media, the traitorous Independent Battle Corp. joined the ranks of the enemy and forced a strategic withdraw. He also stated that the majority of the Dorian¡¯s crew is healthy, faithful, loyal, and remains devoted to continued dominance of the battlefield.¡±

    A line rotated upwards like a tornado, becoming a new display box with a picture of blue planet with large green and brown continents draped in a red and white stripped flag. The caption below read: Cease Fire Disintegration? The news commentator continued in a slow steady tone.

    ¡°Negotiations with the Origin Special Administration informally known as the United States of Earth collapsed today with the assassination of Foreign Minister Charles Mugabe. The disintegrated remains of Charles Mugabe, age thirty-seven, were found in the bedroom of his suburban Nairobi apartment. Officials of Origin¡¯s African state claim that agents of Harn are behind the death of this senior diplomat and peace maker; the ashes found were positively identified by DNA scan and the confirmation of remaining body parts, including three teeth and the left hand. The Harn government denied responsibility. A joint resolution of the Imperial senate condemned the USE for using the sad event as a pretext to cancel crucial peace negotiations. Senatorial Coordinator, Guy Witherspoon; who traveled to Ganyemede in wake of the assassination, had strong words against the assassination of OSA diplomat.¡±

    The box expanded to show the coordinator at a podium. Lights flashed and capsule microphones floated in the air around him. His shriveled hands shook the small computer screen he read from. A slow feeble voice enunciated everything as clearly as possible.

    ¡°I condemn this brutal attack on a man of peace in the most emphatic of terms. The Imperial Government of Harnicor and the Origin Special Administration were working together through intense negotiations intended to resolve taxation and government disputes in the face of a troubled time for the peace of the universe. Both sides need to work together for the sake of a peaceful and free galaxy. The murder of Charles Mugabe by the enemies of peace brings risk of renewed conflict to both our governments. I implore the OSA not to use this murder as an excuse for further dismissal of Imperial authority within the Sol system. Let¡¯s preserve the peace of the galaxy together. ¡±

    The secondary screen shrunk back in its place and displayed the word RECRIMINATION in bloody red letters. The commentator pushed up his glasses and assumed an angry posture.

    ¡°Despite the conciliatory diplomacy of the Senate and the Grand Coordinator, the OSA sent word that it is no longer interested in negotiations unless the Harn Empire grants full autonomy to inner belt, withdraws from the Olympus Mons base on Mars, concedes rights to the asteroid belt, pays reparations over disputed mining activities, and grants the OSA a trading station in the Jovian region. The conflict has been exacerbated by the recent annexation of Mercury, location of the Empire¡¯s last remaining research colony in the inner Sol system. The Verder Station on Mercury reported its surrender to USE infantry forces only hours ago. The Verder station was undefended, used primarily for monitoring of solar phenomena such as sun spots and ion streams. The Imperial Government responded by placing five hundred thousand Haricon bounties on every officer involved in the disgraceful operation, and by stepping up counter intelligence activities to root out spies and collaborators in the Jovian lunar system.¡±

    A display of pictures and drawings with their matching statistics flashed on the screen and were left up as the commentator named each man and the price on his head. The commentator coughed before going further.

    ¡°In three standard days, the Dofu Space Station will be hosting the handover of the Neimun to the Imperial Fleet. Karen Howards of the Galactic News Network will be the primary representative of the media. As for her experience on both the Imminent Destruction, a cruiser of the regular forces disabled in battle, and her time on the captured Neimun, she calmly stated that her duty to inform the citizens of Harn trumped all concerns for her safety.¡±

    ¡°They sure know how to dish it to locals.¡±

    ¡°Things aren¡¯t getting any better here either. I¡¯ve seen enough,¡± Fade said.

 47. Bar Fight

    A freight captain in the red jump suit of the Haroldson Freight Corporation burped loudly under the pale purple neon circular sign above the entrance to Delfi¡¯s eatery. He looked towards the group contentedly as he continued down the outer hall. The establishment extended from the rim of the station by about fifty meters. This design offered the best view of outside traffic. A long silver freighter with a rabbit emblem passed the left side of the restaurant; its thrusters emitted four disks of neon blue tinged by erratic lines of crimson energy before the vessel vanished into subspace.

    None of the customers looked up from their phones or their food to notice the traffic. A counter with comfortable red leather stools invited them towards the back. A small computer at each eating area allowed for instant ordering. There were few customers at the time of Fade¡¯s arrival, and most of those were freight haulers who sat at the booths and chatted over coffee and sandwiches. A group of young men with dyed hair and black leather jackets sat at the far edge of the counter; they twisted on the revolving seats and sipped beer from dark green bottles. Fade told the others to find a booth as he took the black case back from Bert and rang the service bell at the counter. A short, heavy-set, bald man eventually sauntered out. He was only half Fade¡¯s height, and had to strain his head upwards to speak with him. His robotic voice was dense, and scratchy.

    ¡°It¡¯s you... back now. Long... time it¡¯s been... with you.¡±

    Fade pushed the black case on the counter, moved his eyes to it and then back to the little man, whose eyes widened at the sight of it.

    ¡°Good... More business. I¡¯ll take you back... to see the... boss. Let him down... you he didn¡¯t... bet on.¡±

    The booth seats were made of iron frame with a few thin coatings of compressed saw dust that had worn past their usefulness long ago. Chips broke from the sides, revealing the cold dirty iron amidst the splits, warps, and breaks within the outer fabric. The lights were dim and yellow as if a conspiracy brewed at every occupied table. The floor was covered with old tile that cracked and peeled around the table posts. Crumbs and pieces of food stuck within the openings, the corners, and sides of the stools.

    Bert tapped the computer for a beer, then took the liberty of ordering one for Nicole.

    ¡°You¡¯re a man. You can take it. Now my boss, he isn¡¯t able to get past the second glass without passing out.¡±

    Nicole suppressed a laugh, then waited patiently for her drink.

    A bottle shattered into jagged green pieces against a window to the far left. When a small robot appeared to sweep the mess, bottle flung from the nearby booth rained broken glass over it. A few freighter captains who were finished left their dirty trays at the tables and left. The few remaining customers kept to themselves. The timid shivered as they took their food out of the eatery; one woman walked away leaving a cream Danish on her table because she hurried for the exit. Bert shook his head as a thin waitress with frizzy blonde hair frayed from cheap dyes brought their drinks. Her dress swayed as she passed the counter quickly. Two groups of rough clad men admired her boisterously and made insulting remarks. One of the young men claimed to be her lover and begged personal favors. The waitress blushed a bit as she served the bottles Bert had ordered.

    ¡°Fade may be a while,¡± Bert said. ¡°He has some business.¡±

    Bert lit a cigarette and contemplated his green bottle. It was the same imperial blend advertised by the holograph in the halls. He took a big swig, made an unaffected face, and took another swig before puffing on his cigarette.

    ¡°Someone ought to teach those punks how to behave around a woman.¡±

    Bert yanked the cool, damp bottle by its neck and took a swig. He waited a few minutes until the ashes of his cigarette fell freely into a little tin tray. The men at the counter continued to insult the waitress as she served them drinks.

    ¡°They better not push me too far,¡± Bert whispered, ¡°I¡¯m in a bad mood as it is, and I might decide not to care what the boss thinks.¡±

    Jupiter became visible through the left side as a bright ball of orange, yellow and red mists. Sunlight glinted around the side of the planet¡¯s envelope and reflected a great orange storm on the planet¡¯s northern hemisphere. The moons at the side appeared as dark spots against the visible sun until they orbited outwards and reflected sunlight toward the station itself. The waitress delivered yet more drinks to the men at the counter but tried to keep her distance. A purple haired man in a poncho leaned across the counter and lifted her over his shoulder by her rear. She punched his back as he pinched her.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Hey baby, you have a nice little tush back here.¡±

    ¡°Let me go. I have work to do!¡±

    They took turns pinching her. The purple haired man pulled her over the counter and sat her on a stool. He kept his hands clasped about her waist as she struggled to break free. They plopped their drinks in front of her like a peace offering. Then the others took turns inviting their hands inside her uniform. She closed her eyes and offered no further resistance. The man in the poncho gave her to another guy, who held her from the behind while he pulled a needle from the poncho, filled it, tested it, and whispered something in her ears. She tried to shrink away. The purple haired man held out her arm to administer the drug. Only, he was suddenly in a headlock. The needle plunged into his chest. Bert then kicked him back to his friends. The waitress broke free from her captors and ran to the back.

    ¡°You bastard!¡± yelled the purple haired man in the poncho. ¡°That stuff ain¡¯t meant for men!¡±

    A skinny man with a red mohawk and a nose ring rushed Bert, along with a dark-haired guy in an old gray jacket two sizes too small. Bert picked up the skinny man an threw him at the other; they ended up in a heap against the counter. Bert assumed a fighting stance. The man who received the drug shook his head so quickly that his hair became a purple blur. He pulled out a retractable blade, a shining titanium-platinum alloy, finely sharpened. Bert kicked it from his hand; it stabbed the table.

    ¡°You made a big mistake messin¡¯ with me freighter boy.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you come to that estimate. I¡¯m ten times the fighter you are, and I ain¡¯t no freighter boy either.¡±

    Bert stared down his opponent for a moment. Then a metal pipe from behind sent him face down over the floor.

    ¡°Because I have friends, freighter boy.¡±

    Two other men stood over Bert, one with neon red hair kept his boot on Bert¡¯s back, while another with green fuzzy hair smacked the iron pipe against his hand.

    ¡°Let¡¯s cut his heart out right here,¡± said the green hair.

    ¡°I want to know what his brains look like,¡± suggested another.

    The purple haired man pulled his knife out of the table and bent over his victim, ¡°I suggest we drag him somewhere more private and do both.¡±

    Nicole kicked the knife from his hand, straight upwards, and caught it by the handle.

    ¡°What the heck!?¡± the man exclaimed.

    Nicole blocked their punches and launched a counter assault on the purple haired man¡¯s jaw. Her fist landed threw him against the empty booths. She knocked the other two senseless with quick punches, then turned to confront a man readying himself to throw his knife through her. Bert pulled the knife wielder to the floor before he could release his weapon; his jaw landed with a crack, crunch. The man with green fuzzy hair rolled back up and rushed Nicole. His long sharp fingernails swiped. She kicked his arms back and punched him dead center between the eyes three times.

    The remaining crew were easy knockouts, but she had barely finished with them when the purple haired man lunged over the booths with his knife. He pinned Nicole against the window and pulled her to the floor by the collar of her shirt. It ripped open down to her waist. He raised his knife to stab when Bert caught him by the arms, lifted him, threw him against booth, and bashed his head into the table several times before escorting him to the exit and throwing him outside. Nicole stood, still in a daze from having the back of her head slammed into the window. Bert continued throwing the gang out the restaurant, one by one, like they were sacks of sugar.

    ¡°I¡¯m gettin¡¯ too damn old for this,¡± Bert glanced her way, ¡°Hey Nick, help me drag this last one out before I bust--¡± The man over his shoulder hit the floor with a thud. Nicole rubbed the back of her head, blissfully unaware that the front of her shirt was sliced and torn open, gauze and all. Only when Bert¡¯s jaw dropped did she cover the view with her arm.

    ¡°Bust!¡± Bert repeated. ¡°Tiny but still¡­ Sorry, I mean,¡± Bert shook his head. ¡°Holy crap! Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve been hiding that all this time.¡±

    Nicole blushed, ¡°I haven¡¯t been hiding anything.¡±

    ¡°Then why¡¯d ya go and wrap yourself up like a mummy?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story that I don¡¯t want to go into; besides, I never intended to stay in this uniform. I just never got the chance to change.¡±

    ¡°I thought I liked- I mean I thought you were kind of feminine. Now I feel better. I mean- that¡¯s what I mean. I don¡¯t care what you are. You pulled some damn good moves on these bastards. Saved my skin. I¡¯m more than grateful. Don¡¯t care what you are. You want my shirt?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not ashamed of myself so much that I¡¯d wear something that disgusting.¡±

    ¡°Now that I think of it, you¡¯d look good in that yellow swimsuit if you opened that pony tail back there, or something with a skirt even though you¡¯re kinda small.¡±

    Would you please stop talking about it? I¡¯ll wear what I want to wear,¡±

    ¡°What do you want to wear?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine with cute clothes, but certainly nothing of yours.¡±

    Bert smelt his shirt, grimaced, and shrugged it off while Nick turned towards the window to roll the gauze back around her chest, this time with a light hand that proved less restrictive. She then tied her torn shirt together as best she could while Bert threw the remaining man out of the eatery. When the defeated party awoke outside the restaurant, they turned away quickly.

 48. Morris C. Delfi

    The short bald man took a red hanky out of his back pocket, blew his nose loudly, and returned it to its place as he led Fade past the small kitchen. Two young men worked on burnt greasy grills. A lit soda fountain stood against the back wall, sandwiched between two refrigeration units. The dish washer rumbled quietly; its indicator light glowed in the center of its pale red surface. There was a great unused oven to side. Vertical lines of grease stained its door. They walked to a black door at the back of a small, closet-like hall and stepped into a small office.

    A ventilation fan built into the side wall swished around slowly, producing a slight air current. An electric panel produced a buzzing white glow from the ceiling. Frames containing various certifications hung from nail and wire on the wood board wall. On the center of the back wall hung a family portrait, ten people in front of a gnarled oak tree. Next to the door was a long jute calendar. An iron waste can sat underneath it.

    A small metal desk with a name plate that read: Morris C. Delfi, was occupied by a tanned man with a dark black mustache and a loose Hawaiian shirt. He looked up from his phone and floated above his desk. Mr. Delfi rode on a cushioned disc lined with anti-gravitational pads that replaced his missing lower half. He hugged Fade fondly.

    His voice had a soft high pitch, ¡°How I wait for moments like these! What brings you back here Captain? Aren¡¯t the mercenaries working for the Buldethians now?¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m not exactly¡­¡±

    Morris leaned back and smiled, ¡°You must be here on business. I¡¯ve never known you to be a man of pleasure. Wait now, I don¡¯t want know. I never even asked, kay? What do you need; cash, weapons, technology, supplies? I can¡¯t loan you any money if that¡¯s what you want. Since the Buldethians hit around Hakkut, I¡¯ve had a lot trouble keeping order in the restaurant, why if it wasn¡¯t for the freighter captains I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do. It seems like every low life from the outer regions is taking refuge here. The police have been no help whatsoever, they¡¯re not even collecting taxes beyond the Jovian system right now.

    I swear, everything¡¯s falling apart. Last week I had three waitresses, now two are missing, and my poor little Betsy is afraid to go outside the kitchen half the time, especially when the freighters aren¡¯t in. My head is swirling with so much anxiety; I¡¯m like an over inflated beach ball. I¡¯ve even called the Centralized Imperial Department of Regulatory Investigation seven times. They say ¡®Your station is in a war zone sir, we can¡¯t help you.¡¯ They simply don¡¯t understand how much revenue I¡¯m losing because the station isn¡¯t safe. I¡¯m going out of business!¡±

    Morris switched to a whisper, attempted to do it in Fade¡¯s ear, but he was swatted to the side, ¡°Sometimes I hope the Buldethians do come. Maybe they¡¯ll keep some good old fashioned law and order. I can¡¯t think about it anymore. Yes, it¡¯s that unbearable!¡±

    ¡°I have some cash that I need converted into electronic credits,¡± Fade laid the case on the desk. ¡°Banks get ten percent for every conversion; I¡¯ll pay you twenty if you can get your boy to hack it for me.¡±

    ¡°I certainly could use the money, but my love-- err-- computer expert was killed a few days ago, brutally murdered, looked at someone the wrong way and had his smooth little throat slit from ear to ear, and such a sexy throat too! It¡¯s so disheartening; the gangs have taken over here, without police protection they¡¯re practically the law. I¡¯ve been discreet, but I know what¡¯s going on around here. I keep watch, but that¡¯s the best I can do after all.¡±

    Morris fussed with his palm computer, scrolling down a list of recent entries. The type, model number, and location of every parked ship constantly monitored.

    ¡°First Destiny, now this.¡±

    ¡°Destiny, you don¡¯t mean fate, or is that a name?¡±

    ¡°A name, she¡¯s being held hostage by, well who he is doesn¡¯t matter. I just need to get her back safe as soon as I can.¡±

    ¡°You have a girl! Well, that¡¯s just awful!¡± Morris extended his pinky finger and gnawed the tip, ¡°I have to meet her though, please introduce us some time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that. She¡¯s a crew member. It¡¯s strictly business.¡±

    ¡°With you it¡¯s probably the truth, how marvelous,¡± Morris took a worn derby style hat from a low hanger and tilted it over his forehead, assuming a mock apathetic posture and a deeper voice. ¡°I¡¯m the honorable Captain Harold Defacto, follower of the code of a true imperial mercenary.¡±

    Morris threw the hat behind his desk and broke into a feigned fit of laughing, slapping his desk to emphasize his amusement.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you activate some of the cash, maybe five thousand Haricons? I¡¯ll pay you for the docking fees and give you an extra thousand if you promise to stop laughing like an idiot.¡±

    Morris sobered quickly, ¡°I didn¡¯t see your cruiser on the registry. Now where could you be hiding it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a long story. I came in a transport. No time for the details.¡±

    ¡°I think I can handle the activation anyway, certainly much easier than conversion onto your cards, of course hard currency is going to look seeeehspicious,¡± his voice raised eerily high and emphatic, ¡°Tell me, this girl you do biihziness with. Is sheeee, pretty?¡±

    Fade smirked, ¡°Prettier than you¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    ¡°Well, well, well, well. Let us activate you some cash. I don¡¯t have any aversion to activating hard currency when it¡¯s done in increments to avoid suspicion. In addendum, I just made a deal with one of the freight captains for a load of contraband weapons and ammunition, even some of those hard to get accessories for that revolver of yours. If you¡¯re interested they¡¯re cheap, and I¡¯ll even store what you buy surplus for a small fee.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll check into that when I have some cash.¡±

    -----

    Condensation gathered on the frosty mugs of ale. Bert left his mug half full as he rubbed a welt forming on the back of his head. When Fade emerged from Delfi¡¯s office with the black case, Bert and Nicole looked his way expectantly.

    ¡°We have some money,¡± Fade noticed Bert¡¯s grimace ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you now?¡±

    ¡°Bumped my head, that¡¯s all. I¡¯ll get over it.¡±

    ¡°Morris activated some of the money Karen gave us. We can get a room and some rest tonight, then tomorrow we can catch a public transport to Dofu.¡±

    ¡°Is one running tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    -----

    Small orbs dangling from the ceiling released their light as Fade entered room 23C. Two single beds with worn green comforters were pressed against the side wall. A metal writing table sat next to a set of drawers on the other side. A large screen was built into the wall above the dresser. A blank, plain white canvas hung over the beds. Green velvety carpet absorbed his steps. A light green paisley patterned the walls.

    Bert rushed past him to the economy sized bathroom, which contained a white porcelain toilet and a shower stall with a fuzzy white curtain. The little blue and green tiles rounded within white grout were spotless. The sink was white imitation marble with two faucets, one for water and one for laser cleansing. A digital counter at the top of a medicine cabinet mirror displayed the remaining water ration for the day in liters. A wall dispenser sold tooth cleaning pills for one Haricon a piece and contraceptives for two each.

    Nicole lounged on one of the beds; her mattress sunk deeply. Fade hung his red trench coat on a hanger by the entrance, took one of the chairs, put his feet up, and put his head back while closing his eyes.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you take the bed?¡± Nicole asked, ¡°You look tired.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Bert came out of the bathroom and bounced in the other bed. Ten minutes passed with nothing being said. Bert fell asleep and Nicole followed shortly.

    Fade quietly stood, replaced his trench coat, and walked to the hall. The swirling atmosphere of Jupiter glowed in the distance. The ceiling lights subdued themselves in a representation of Ganyemede¡¯s night. Voices in the hall reduced to a murmur. Fade watched the bottom of a freighter fly overhead on route to an interior garage runway. The short bald man from Delfi¡¯s eatery waddled next to a nearby bench. A thin wooden crate tucked under his arm.

    ¡°Haricons... the entire box for five hundred,¡± he said, sitting it on the bench. ¡°He¡¯ll take what¡¯s not activated. He really wants you to have this... halved the... wholesale price.¡±

    ¡°That so? What¡¯s the catch?¡±

    ¡°Some equipment... ain¡¯t full... condition, but... all is repairable.¡±

    The dumpy little man left the equipment and walked away. Fade prodded the box with his foot. It popped open. A pair of night vision goggles sat on top of three stun grenades. Two titanium restraint guns were packed to the side. Four energy shield packs lined the edges. Fade picked up the goggles and saw a metal tube under the stun grenades. He dug two fingers in the box and pulled out the tube. The plastic top popped open when he pried it with his thumb. A collection of coded shells slid into his palm. There were quite a few that were rusty or coated in carbon dust. Some of the shells had a thick green scale. Fade poured the shells back into the tube and replaced it in the case.

    Fade tucked a few stun grenades in the folds of his coat. He stood around watching the stars, his foot resting over the closed box. Soft footsteps from the side told of Nicole¡¯s approach. Her damp dark hair smelt of lavender as she wore unassuming brown shorts and a loose sleeveless top.

    ¡°You better get some sleep,¡± she said.

    ¡°I can handle myself.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? I¡¯m going to do some shopping, you can have the bed if you like.¡±

    She walked down the hall before turning to look at him for an instant.

    ¡°Do you love that girl?¡±

    She waited a moment without receiving an answer and decided to continue walking. When she was gone, Fade carried his box back to the room. He slid it next to the bed before collapsing onto the mattress. Sleep finally crept over him.

    A slap in the gut from Nicole woke Fade with a start. He checked the time. They had an hour until the transport left. The box of weapons was set onto Bert¡¯s stomach, which proved a useful expedient for rousing his senses.

    ¡°Take them to Delfi¡¯s eatery for storage, and make it quick if you don¡¯t want to be left behind.¡±

    Nicole waited until Bert left.

    ¡°First time in three years I didn¡¯t have to take a chemical bath. It feels good to get clean that way, even if there¡¯s still limited water.¡±

    ¡°Find any new outfits?¡±

    Nicole smiled, ¡°I wasn¡¯t really shopping for clothes. I asked you a question this morning. You never answered me.¡±

    ¡°Stupid question.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Because the answer is obvious?¡±

    ¡°Get off it,¡± Fade growled.

 49. Suspect Dealings At Dofu

    The Dofu Defense Station orbited Callisto, the most distant and least developed of Jupiter¡¯s large satellites. White light reached the station from the icy surface of two ancient craters, Valhalla and Asgard. It flared brilliantly from their icy outlines. The station¡¯s cylindrical outer corridor surrounded the inner as they rotated around a central axis. Its docks opened for an old cruiser returning from defense duty in the asteroid belt. The cruiser¡¯s smoke-stained cannons sunk tiredly into the mottled hull.

    The newly captured Neimun was attached to the station pinnacle via anchor cables because of its length. Karvar fighters patrolled with a single torpedo craft idled in orbit around the station. A metal cylinder extended from the station pinnacle to connect with the frontward hatches of the Neimun. The connection gear proved incompatible. The two sections clashed with a hiss as the seal failed before the tunnel withdrew. After this failure, a transport docked with the Neimun.

    Lieutenant Soel stood soberly before Admiral Igito Norima and the officers from the station. Second Lieutenant Forgisom remained three paces behind his commander. Both men were in full dress uniform, neat black pants and gray over coats. The first Imperial Infiltration Company entered the bay, where they formed two lines. Theys stopped behind Lieutenants Soel and Forgisom. The Admiral had donned a few medals for the occasion; dual laser pistols hung from his holster. Lieutenant Soel saluted the admiral briskly. Igito pinned a metal bar on Soel¡¯s jacket. General Dispaer, Vice Admiral Fortali, and Rear Admiral Tennyson congratulated him with handshakes. Karen filmed the formalities for immediate broadcast across imperial territories.

    Admiral Norima shook the new Colonel¡¯s hand, ¡°You should come with us to the station for the festivities.¡±

    ¡°I must decline the honor. I¡¯m going to stay with my company. This achievement belongs to them.¡±

    ¡°Understood Colonel. You¡¯ll need to reorganize your unit now that it will officially become a brigade.¡±

    Four transports hauled the company into Dofu. The wounded went first, two were carried out on portable gurneys. One transport handled only luggage. Small casks containing the ashes of the dead were handled by servants. One square plastic case with a large handle was hauled by a tall sergeant with the help of Lieutenant Forgisom himself. The case had an extremely small ventilation fan on its backside. Colonel Soel waited for his entire company to finish boarding and supervised the positioning of storage items before he joined the Admiral.

    -----

    The dull surface of the dock hangar rotated outside the port window. General Dispaer¡¯s reception room was directly above the station¡¯s core. A portion of Callisto featuring Tindr, a crater with a flattened southeastern wall, could be seen past the structure. A long cushy sofa decorated the starboard wall while a card table with four chairs held bolted into the carpet at the center. A screen in the back wall with speakers for communication remained blank. General Dispaer removed his outer vestments and placed them on a rack that withdrew into the wall. Admiral Norima, who didn¡¯t know the rack code, threw his hat and coat upon the sofa. Both men were thin and pale. They looked ragged, almost sickly.

    Colonel Soel entered, finding a rather large reception of high ranking officers in attendance. He saluted everyone but Vice Admiral Fortali, who flicked her hair back impatiently.

    He looked to Admiral Norima with a half-suppressed smile, ¡°The Dorian is beyond repair from what I hear. Isn¡¯t it nice that the fleet can count on the special forces to bring them a new vessel. Granted, the Neimun is not suitable for combat purposes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll order some drinks,¡± Dispaer said, unable to suppress a nervous frown, ¡°We¡¯ll celebrate the Colonel¡¯s achievements. What do you prefer Colonel?¡±

    ¡°I never drink.¡±

    ¡°Relax Colonel,¡± Fortali chided, ¡°In a few days you might make general.¡±

    ¡°I could use a glass of brandy and water,¡± Admiral loosened his tie. ¡°Let¡¯s not fret about military business now. We can save our plans until after the celebration of our capture.¡±

    Soel shook his head, ¡°If we¡¯re not here to discuss military business then I have no reason to be here. Considering that the entire front is on the verge of collapse, I have more important matters to attend to than a drinking social.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Soel saluted respectfully and left without another word.

    ¡°He¡¯s brilliant and loyal, but far too much a military partisan to ever effectively deal with the Senate,¡± Norima suggested.

    ¡°We¡¯d be better off without him,¡± Fortali said, taking a drink.

    You¡¯re both wrong,¡± General Dispaer growled, ¡°He¡¯s a gifted commander with a brilliant military mind. If you two weren¡¯t so prejudiced against army officers you¡¯d see it yourself. Remember this, the army special forces were successful, we fulfilled our mission with no support from the Dorian, which I believe was too busy retreating to be of any real use.¡±

    ¡°Watch what you say General,¡± Norima said, ¡°I outrank you.¡±

    ¡°Not here. This is my district, and this station was transferred to army control twelve years ago. You can take any complaints to the Supreme Commander himself.¡±

    With those words the army general raised his glass and took a long sip of his bourbon.

    -----

    Amidst the halls of the sector seven, Lieutenant Forgisom and Sergeant Norwalki found Soel¡¯s chambers. They rolled the large plastic case gently on the carpet of a little room with a single bed, a simple desk, and a storage locker. One pulled the covers of the bed back while the other unsnapped the case. It hissed upon opening. Destiny curled up inside as foam cushioned her body. She drooled over the shoulder of her uniform in a deep slumber. Together, both men reached in and pulled her on the bed by the legs and underarms. Sergeant Norwaki rested her head on a thick pillow while the Forgisom placed the covers up to her waist. The usual military posture of Soel¡¯s second in command drifted into a sloppy lean against the bathroom door as Sergeant Norwaki pulled himself the chair from under the desk.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of the girls who arrived with the mercenary,¡± Norwaki said, ¡°Did he sell her?¡±

    ¡°The mercenary, you mean Defacto?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, did the mercenary sell her? What about that other girl, wasn¡¯t she important?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not relied upon for your genius, are you?¡±

    ¡°Why did we bring her here?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking too many questions for a Sergeant. And none of them are relevant to engineering.¡±

    Sergeant Norwaki leaned over to caress Destiny¡¯s cheek with the back of his hand. He laid his index finger over the bottom of her lip, then slid it over her chin and down her neck. His finger slid back to hover over her mouth, where he could feel her warm breath. He watched as the covers moved up and down with her breathing. Lieutenant Forgisom glared, so he stopped to rub the hair on the back of his head.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t resist that. She¡¯s my type. The commander always gets his price for the pretty ones though. I wonder who brought her?¡±

    ¡°What did I say about questions?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re friends right, let¡¯s keep this to ourselves. I¡¯ll owe you one. I don¡¯t want to get in trouble over a little touch. No harm done, right?¡±

    ¡°Consider it forgotten.¡±

    The sergeant jumped nervously as Colonel Soel suddenly entered with a man dressed as a staff sergeant.

    ¡°Sergeant Norwaki, you¡¯re not needed here.¡±

    The sergeant stood, saluted, and left.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who did this to her!¡± Soel yelled after the door snapped shut, ¡°You should know how to undo it. I can¡¯t ransom the crystal for a vegetable. My word is on the line.¡±

    The doctor pulled a pin from his pocket and looked at his watch, ¡°I already started the process of dissolving the robotics. They¡¯re degraded substantially as it is, just barely keeping her asleep. The process will be finished within two to five hours. There are so many factors involved; the acidity of her blood, sodium intake before injection, that sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°A few hours, then you might as well wake her now. Do you have the control?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get her conscious. Proceed slowly or her blood will become toxic. I¡¯ll need an IV to keep her hydrated while flushing her blood.¡±

    ¡°She won¡¯t remember a thing?¡±

    ¡°Not a thing.¡±

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Get her awake.¡±

    Soel knelt by the bedside, coughed to freshen his voice, and adorned himself with an aura of concern. She groaned and pressed her palm to her forehead as she sat upright. The room was a blur, but gradually her vision cleared. Colonel Soel stood over her. Watching. She bowed her head, then surveyed the room before shifting to the other side of the bed.

    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Soel asked.

    ¡°What happened to me?¡±

    Colonel Soel walked into the water closet to dampen a towel, which he gave to her, ¡°Put that on your forehead. You¡¯ve been running a high fever since you fainted on the Neimun. You¡¯ve been delirious, but the worst has passed. The news of your father¡¯s passing put you in shock. Your employer left you in my care. A wise decision considering seeing the urgency of the situation. He should be arriving here in a few days. A gala will be held to celebrate the Neimun¡¯s capture. Attendance is mandatory. In the meantime, you should rest.¡±

    Destiny pushed her back against the headboard and placed the towel over her forehead. The cool water helped relieve a dull headache.

    ¡°My father¡¯s dead?¡±

    ¡°Defacto reported back to me. Justice was served to the men who killed your father, but he was unable to locate the body. Your father would have been alive today if you hadn¡¯t run off.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault!¡±

    ¡°Then the mercenary is to blame. He promised to save your father and failed.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t blame Fade. He did his best. You can¡¯t blame anybody except the men who killed him.¡±

    ¡°His best wasn¡¯t good enough. Don¡¯t leave the room. I haven¡¯t yet secured your clearances. You¡¯ll be apprehended by security if you leave and you need rest anyway. These gentlemen will see to your immediate needs while you recover.¡±

    Forgisom and the doctor saluted as Soel left.

 50. Imperial Roulette

    A military transport coated in a mottled green and brown docked in the twenty-second terminal of the Dofu station. Metal rails descended to the walkway. A voice over the transport¡¯s intercom advised passengers to exit calmly. Fade and the others were delayed at the security checkpoint and sent to a holding room. They met Colonel Soel there and entered the station under his supervision.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking well,¡± Soel said.

    ¡°I have what you asked for.¡±

    ¡°Great, where is it?¡±

    ¡°What about Destiny?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s in excellent condition, unharmed and untouched. The MER in her system dissolved rather early, so we¡¯ve kept her with us. I¡¯ve treated her with extreme generosity. She¡¯s already been informed of your failure to save her father. She believes she¡¯s here for safe keeping. It would be best for everyone if she keeps believing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a good liar.¡±

    ¡°One of my many talents. When do you intend to give me the crystal?¡±

    ¡°I want to see Destiny first.¡±

    ¡°Do you really want her to think we¡¯re exchanging her for an object? That wouldn¡¯t be good for her self-image.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what.¡± said Bert, ¡°We¡¯ll give you the crystal once Miss Payson is with us, and if you give us some cash then it¡¯ll look like a fair exchange.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. I¡¯ll transfer one haricon to your card for appearance¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°Cheap bastard!¡±

    They stopped at a cafeteria.

    ¡°She¡¯s not far away. Should I have Lieutenant Forgisom bring her?¡±

    ¡°Just bring her,¡± Fade said.

    Soel pulled his phone to his ear, ¡°You can bring Miss Payson now.¡±

    After a few minutes, Lieutenant Forgisom approached with Destiny at his side. She hesitated and looked down to the floor when she saw Fade.

    ¡°I told you there might be a pleasant surprise if you were patient,¡± Soel said to her.

    Destiny saluted as she looked into Fade¡¯s eyes. Fade shifted slightly before regaining a cold composure. She failed to hold back her tears as she broke down and rushed into him. The shoulder of Fade¡¯s trench coat became slightly moist as she wiped her face.

    ¡°I was too late to help your father.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t our fault. We can¡¯t blame ourselves. If it was anybody¡¯s fault it was my own.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s...¡±

    Her breathing became heavy as she wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

    ¡°Are you all right Miss Payson?¡± asked Soel.

    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine. Justice was served, that¡¯s more than I could have ever expected on my own.¡±

    ¡°Before we go any further, I would like my payment for providing you the supplies you needed for your mission on Hakkut. Remember, I gave you the transport and its supplies in return for the promise of an item.¡±

    Bert lifted a case and popped open the latches. Inside was a spherical crystal of a light blue shade. that caught Destiny¡¯s eye. She swore it was the most beautiful jewel she had ever seen. The case was closed and almost handed to Soel, but Fade pulled the case from Bert¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Then you don¡¯t intend to keep your part of the bargain? I¡¯ll have you hanged for a traitor!¡±

    ¡°I intend to keep my word, but Sergeant Payson is a member of my crew and deserves to hear the truth straight from the source. I don¡¯t even want money, so spit it out.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Miss Payson, you were collateral to make sure the mercenary kept his promise.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°He kept you as a hostage using micro-robots to put you in a coma. I¡¯m giving him the crystal in exchange for your life. He would have done something else entirely otherwise.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Is that true?¡±

    ¡°In brutish terms, yes. You¡¯ve been quite the handicap for everyone you¡¯ve been involved with, including mercenary Defacto. Pity. Now give me the payment.¡±

    Fade tossed him the case.

    ¡°Very good,¡± Soel handed them special pass cards. ¡°The gala celebrating the Niemun¡¯s capture is mandatory. Don¡¯t cause a scene or draw attention to yourself. I¡¯ve arranged sleeping quarters for your crew. It looks like you could use a light hearted event before we discuss your next assignment.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not interested in any more of your assignments. I hope you¡¯ll excuse us if we¡¯re too tired to stick around.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s understandable, but you won¡¯t be leaving freely until I clear you. You¡¯re now officially under my command. And my first command is that you will quietly attend the gala without making a scene. I¡¯ll have Lieutenant Forgisom escort you to your rooms.¡±

    -----

    The beds were comfortable and the room was dark; Bert snored peacefully. Fade¡¯s eyes adjusted to the darkness. The outline of the ceiling panels came into view by the small lights of electronic devices and the dim red bulb of the television indicator. Fade¡¯s boots hung over the footboard; he never bothered to remove them, his trench coat, or his revolver. His hat sat on the floor by the bed. An hour of Bert¡¯s snoring passed before the door slid open. Clear white light from the halls pushed away the shadows. Fade pushed himself up and sat on the footboard as Destiny entered. Her shadow stretched to the toe of his boot.

    ¡°Can we talk?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I don¡¯t have anything better to do.¡±

    The bright lights in the station halls forced his eyes to adjust quickly as he followed her outside. The halls were not as insulated as the rooms. The rumble of airlocks, the swift bang of the docking bay attachments, or even footsteps from many directions could be easily heard. Destiny walked ahead; Fade followed. They reached the cafeteria and found an empty table at a small snack station. Soldiers purchased ready-to-eat meals from machines mounted on the walls. Fade stretched his arms before leaning back into his chair.

    ¡°I¡¯d offer you a cup of coffee, but I don¡¯t have any credits,¡± Destiny said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want coffee,¡± Fade placed both his hands flat on the table, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your father. He was a good guy. I considered him as one of my few friends. He was always honest.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep tonight. Guess that¡¯s to be expected.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m putting up the money to send you to a technical school on Imperial Harn. You need to hone your skills, and it¡¯s the best school in the empire.¡±

    ¡°I know. I always wanted to go the Imperial Technical Academy.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Fade said, ¡°You¡¯ll be leaving for Ganymede within a week, you¡¯ll catch a transport for the Imperial Capitol from there.¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t say no! This is a huge opportunity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a member of your crew. I can¡¯t afford to be absent for four years. I¡¯m not going.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mental. Maybe you don¡¯t realize what a liability you¡¯ve been. You¡¯re not cut out for this type of work!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be any safer in the Imperial Capital! I can die no matter where I go! So Why?! Why won¡¯t you stop trying to protect me? This is my risk to take!¡±

    Fade leaned back slightly.

    ¡°When I decided to be a mercenary I made a commitment. I¡¯m not backing down! If I haven¡¯t proven my worth to you, I¡¯ll do something even more dangerous and stupid.¡±

    Fade¡¯s face shifted as eyes narrowed; he stared her down.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just back out of your contract, I have the right to kill anyone who mutinies. If you stick with me, you¡¯ll follow orders, or you¡¯ll die.¡±

    Fade pulled out his revolver, put a single bullet in the chamber, and spun it twice.

    ¡°Who killed my father?¡±

    ¡°Stick with me and you could end up just like him.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not scaring me with this routine.¡±

    Fade pressed his gun against his forehead and fired. The trigger clicked. The hammer snapped against an empty chamber. He spun the cylinder again.

    ¡°Wha- what are you doing?¡± Destiny stammered as he handed her the gun.

    ¡°I want to see how much you value your life. Put the end of the barrel against your head and fire. If you¡¯re crazy enough to do it, then you can work for me.¡±

    Her hands shook as she stared at the bluish silver glint of the gun¡¯s polished hue.

    ¡°This is crazy. What¡¯s wrong with you!?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my revolver you¡¯re holding. Don¡¯t disrespect it. Now, you either do it, or you don¡¯t.¡±

    She put the gun to her head, closed her eyes, and squeezed the trigger gently. Unable to follow through, she laid the gun on the table.

    ¡°This is senseless. It doesn¡¯t solve anything!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to get a lot of senseless orders. If you can¡¯t be expected to follow them, then make sure you¡¯re on the next shuttle to Ganyemede.¡±

    ¡°What about thinking for myself? Isn¡¯t that important?¡±

    ¡°Certainly, but not as important as the Defacto principle.¡±

    ¡°And what would that be?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m the boss, anyone who follows me follow my orders.¡±

    ¡°I thought this group functioned as a team.¡±

    Fade stared forward without offering another word.

    ¡°Fine, I can do this,¡± she said.

    Destiny put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Fade tapped his fingers lightly as the hammer clicked against the empty chamber.

    ¡°Your turn,¡± she said with a nervous smile.

    He took his gun and spun the chamber.

    ¡°Mercenaries are dealers of war and death. You can¡¯t be afraid to die.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±

    A gentle squeeze of the trigger. He spun the chamber again and relinquished his revolver. A man stood to protest. Fade threw him a hostile glance. All opposition to the initiation faded to soft murmurs. A few soldiers at the other tables watched anxiously as she placed the gun against her head and pulled the trigger. Click. She sighed as she handed the weapon back. Fade slid the revolver into its holster.

    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid to die,¡± Destiny said. ¡°I¡¯m determined to fight, now more than ever. It¡¯s just, I want to make bad people pay.¡±

    ¡°Did it ever occur to you that I might be a bad person? This is a working contract, not a friendship pact, so don¡¯t come crying to me when you get hurt. You might want to make arrangements for your funeral. I¡¯ll make sure you have a sidearm, so learn how to use it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for giving me a chance,¡± she took his hand, ¡°You won¡¯t regret it!¡±

    He pulled his hand away, stood, and pushed his chair underneath the table.

    ¡°Tomorrow I have to meet with Soel,¡± Fade put a single Haricon credit on the table, ¡°Don¡¯t interfere. Why don¡¯t you get yourself a cup of coffee?¡±