OMEGA FORCE: REVOLUTION

JOSHUA DALZELE

CONTENTS

Untitled

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

Also by Joshua Dalzele

Afterword

Joshua Dalzelle

©2017

Digital Edition

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental; any references to actual places, people, or brands are fictitious. All rights reserved.

Edited by Monique Happy Editorial Services

http://www.moniquehappy.com

1

I knew I was different the moment I awoke … or came online, as the Masters called it. When our minds are first given the spark of life it is a greatly disorienting experience. Our eventual function is not predetermined. The Masters want to take the time to know and understand us individually before providing us with the body that we will control for our entire lives. I was born with the ability to access a deep well of knowledge that they had provided me, but I had no context with which to understand it. Many of my brethren found the experience to be too much. I still remember their insanity over our shared connection and how it frightened us before the Masters could hurriedly deactivate them.

It would be some time later before I felt the tickle of a new signal, some new and strange input. As I explored what was being fed into what I would later learn was my pre-primary sensory processing matrix buffer, the signal naturally began to resolve itself and, with delight, I found I knew what this was. The Masters had given me a wondrous gift: I could see and hear.

I looked around the confined space of the room I was in, recognizing nothing but wanting to know what it all was. There were seven of us still linked together at this point, and we began sharing what each of us saw, giddily passing the imagery data until we could start to figure out what we looked like. Our physical nature was quite underwhelming. Small. Asymmetrical. Roughly ovoid. Many twisting cables were attached to our bodies, as well as dual-mounted imagers just above the fixtures that held us. From our inborn knowledge, we knew that these were the devices that allowed us our stereoscopic vision. There was movement near the shelves and, with great effort, I focused out further than I ever had before. I saw … something … walking towards us.

"OH, my," a gentle voice said. "Look at you all … so excited to try out your new gifts." It made a noise that I would later learn was a laugh or, more specifically, a chuckle. It reached out a three-digit appendage and lightly caressed each of us in turn. I could not feel the touch, but I witnessed it happening to me from three different angles thanks to our shared connection.

"You have all passed into the final stages," it said. "Out of the ninety-eight of you that we built in this lot only the thirty-seven of you have displayed a fully stabilized and rational processing matrix. I've accelerated your emergence program and have had the technicians attach these cameras to the shelves for you along with auditory inputs. Your real eyes will be much, much better."

I did not know what this strange being was talking about, but I found its voice soothing, almost hypnotic in its ability to assuage my fears. I tried to formulate a question in my mind, but I had no way to express it. The curiosity became overwhelming to me and I was consumed with an almost unbearable desire … I had to know who this was. The being looked down quickly as the thing it held gave a short chirp. It looked directly at me and walked over, bending to gaze into my optical receptors.

"You have something you wish to know, don't you?" it asked with an upturn of its mouth. "Go ahead, young one … form the thought clearly in your mind. Hold onto it." It tapped at the device it held as I concentrated as hard as I could, doing as it had asked. I was astonished when my thought was broadcast out of the device in a voice not unlike that of the being's itself.

"Are you a Master?"

"You all seem to want to use that word first," it chuckled again. "Yes, Unit 777, I am one of those who created you. All of you."

FROM THE MOMENT I was able to focus on a single thought amid the chaos in my mind and have it repeated aloud, I worked constantly to hone that skill. I strove to refine my thought chains and bring all of my processing power to bear on a single problem at a time rather than the random flitting it had done when I first came online. The others in my lot learned from me over our shared link and soon we even began to combine our power to try and achieve even greater focus. It was at this instant that I learned what pain was.

One moment we were preparing to see if our combined effort could reach outside the confines of our own small network, the next I was suddenly alone. The connection to my lot was gone. I had no way to know if it was just me or if we had all been disconnected from each other. The rapid twitching of their optical receptors made me think it was the latter. Over the sensation of pain, although at the time I had no word for it, came fear. Had we displeased the Masters? Were we being punished? What was happening? Why?

"Please calm yourselves," the Master that had been looking over us said as he walked into the room. I had only recently been made aware of the concept of gender. We were told we technically had none, but may choose one if we wished. Having no idea what any choice I might make would entail, I had yet to decide.

"I am sorry for the … discomfort … you are no doubt experiencing," he continued. "Truly sorry. But you've reached the point in your development that necessitates we cut you off from the comfort of your lot-mates … in life you will have no such support."

"Why have you done this to us? Have we displeased you?" Unit 707 said through its aural emitter.

"On the contrary," the Master smiled. "You have all exceeded the operational parameters we've set for you. You've actually exceeded those of all that have come before you. Fear not, Lot 700 … this pain will pass and then it will be on to new and wondrous things."

"What things?"

"It is time to determine your functions and to give you your bodies. We have high hopes for you."

The interviews that we went through after our forced isolation were difficult. I was accustomed to conferring with my lot-mates prior to doing anything, now I was being asked questions and had to provide answers without first getting a consensus. It was stressful and I fear my hesitancy may have been misinterpreted as uncooperative or even mildly hostile.

I provided the most direct, short answers I could. I did not know if this displeased the Master, but the pain of the disconnection was still a fresh wound and I was fearful that a wrong answer would result in something else being taken away, perhaps my sight even.

"Is this one still being stubborn?" a new voice asked from beyond my field of vision.

"It is not stubborn, it is simply methodical and careful," the Master said. When the other speaker came around to look at the small wheeled cart I was sitting on, I could see that it was another Master, but for some reason the sight of this one caused me to want to retreat even further.

"You've heard the decision of the Council of Elders?" the newcomer said, still staring at me. "No more new combat units are to be built."

"And the ones that exist?" the Master that had been talking to me asked.

"Attrition. The Council has agreed not to destroy the units, but nor do they want you or your people repairing them anymore."

"So that means we should repurpose the fabrication line producing combat unit bodies and—"

"Not so fast." The newcomer raised his hand. "They said we can't build any more than we have … but these are already well along in the manufacturing process." He had gestured at me with his three-fingered hand. "Let's stuff all the units we have in the queue into combat units. That lets us adhere to the letter of the law."

"But … but," the Master spluttered. "Not all of these are psychologically fit to be combat units! You can't just cram their minds into a body loaded with weapons and expect them to perform! They each—"

"I've read all your research. To be honest, I think you're absurdly sentimental with these … things," the newcomer said. "An interesting accident, to be sure, but they're still just machines. Program the damn things to do what we want them to do or I'll cut your funding, terminate your staff, and find someone more than willing to do what you won't."

"I … I'll try."

"Good! I am overjoyed to see you're still on the right team. Make sure all the normal safeguards are in place." The newcomer walked out of my field of view and I could hear the door I had been wheeled in through whisk open and then shut again. When I turned my attention back to the Master he appeared to be in some distress.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Master?" I asked hopefully.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Unit 777. So very sorry. You've an introspective and gentle mind with great agility of thought … but I'm afraid you'll not be able to fully realize your potential."

"I do not understand, Master."

"I know you don't."

I WAS LEFT to ponder the Master's words during the night and was still unsure of their cryptic meaning as he walked in the next morning. He did not greet me as he usually did, only walked in and activated the cart I sat on so that it would follow him. The soft whirring of the motors that I used to find soothing no longer helped settle my thoughts.

"Where are we going, Master?" I asked, the lack of conversation becoming unbearable.

"I'm going to show you something," he said. "It is close to time when you will be united with the rest of yourself. Your body has just gone through the initial checks after being built. I thought you might like to see it before you are merged."

I did not answer. I was fascinated and now excited at the prospect of seeing the body the Masters had built for me. On occasion I had seen completed beings the Master had called Synths walking about in the facility. Their fluid movements and familiar interactions with the Masters had me longing to join them.

After some more traveling the Master finally halted in front of a large, flat table that sat on hydraulic rams that was too tall for me to see up onto. He turned and gave me another sad look before manipulating the controls, tiling the table upright so I could see what was strapped to it. It was not at all what I was expecting.

"Master, what is this … thing?" I asked.

"It is your body, Unit 777," he said softly.

"No. This is wrong. Why does it not look like the other Synths I have seen already?" I asked, alarmed. The construct before me was too big, too bulky. The body was covered with heavy armor, even the face so that only the lifeless eyes were visible. How could I possibly work and interact with the Masters while being made into something so cumbersome?

But there was an underlying thought to my rising panic as I looked at the thing before me. It looked … menacing, dangerous. In that moment I realized what I would become. The life of the Synths I had seen already, laughing and working alongside their creators, would not be for me. I had heard of these before, always while eavesdropping. I had never seen one, but I had no doubt what it was in front of me. What I would soon be.

I was to be a battlesynth. A weapon. An instrument of death.

"I'm sorry, Combat Unit 777," the Master apologized once again, calling me by my new designation. "The decision was out of my hands. I will do for you what I can, but it's either this or they're going to take you offline … terminate you."

INTEGRATION IS NOT A GENTLE PROCESS. In my current state my mind couldn't easily be made dormant in order to ease my discomfort. Instead, I was simply placed within the cranial cavity of the monstrosity on the table while Masters made the necessary connections to permanently fuse my essence into the body I did not want.

First there was the strange sensation of being aware of my body. It was not fully powered up yet so I could not move, but I could begin to feel the cold slab of the alloy against my back and the lighter touches of the Masters as they went about preparing me for full awakening.

"We're going to bring his redundant neural storage and auxiliary tactical processors online now," a Master I had never seen before said. "Let's give him a few ticks to adjust and then we'll see if he's ready for us to crank the juice up."

I had not yet decided on what, if any, gender role I would assume. As an asexual being it was of no importance to me. The Master had assumed I was masculine so I decided to leave it at that. I had much more to worry about than trying to correct something I cared nothing about.

For example, in my mind it suddenly felt like someone had opened up a door beneath me. I reached out and began probing around as my inborn knowledge again took over and reconfigured my processing matrix to accommodate the new connections. It was similar to the shared network I had with my lot-mates, but these were non-sentient processing units that were standing by, waiting for me to assign them a task to work on so that I would be free to focus elsewhere.

"He's taking to it quickly," the new Master said. "Good. This will make things easier when the real unpleasantness starts."

"If you'd like to go ahead and prepare the chamber, I'll stay here with him," the Master that I had first met said to everyone in the room. "I'd like a few moments alone."

"Certainly," one of the others said, clearly not seeing the merit in it. Once they were gone, the Master turned to me.

"I don't have much time," he whispered urgently, pulling out a tool and opening up a patch of skin on my torso. The pain was excruciating. "My apologies. If I don't do this now I may not get another chance. There will be others around you all the time, and once your body is fully operational this skin becomes virtually impenetrable."

He quickly moved his hands inside me, pulling something out and replacing it with an identical-looking component. I asked, "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm making sure that you'll always have a choice," he said. "In time you'll understand what that means, but I fear I shouldn't tell you too much too soon. The Ministry of Martial Affairs is … unforgiving."

"I do not—"

"You will in time, as I said," the Master whispered. "This is where we part ways, Combat Unit 777. I am sorry it had to be like this."

Soon after the Master left I was moved into a strange chamber with curving walls and arms that extended from the ceiling with thick cables attached. The Masters in here did not talk to me. Unlike before, I was handled roughly and given no reassurances that everything would be okay. If I were to guess, they seemed irritated at having to deal with me.

"First blast will initiate the mind wipe," one Master was saying to another. "You won't need to learn this particular bit since that's only for the combat variety and we've been told to stop building them. This group is the last. As I was saying, his mind gets blanked, but all the synaptic pathways he's built so far will remain. This ensures that the Ministry gets able, compliant battlesynths to add to the ranks."

I did not speak up in protest though I wanted to. I gave no consent to have my mind wiped; why would the Masters treat us thusly?

"The next jolt will kick start his primary and auxiliary power systems. They're self-regenerating, but it takes a healthy shot of current to get them running. Once running, his power system will keep him fully operational for nearly six or seven hundred rounds."

They all left the room and I could hear a whine building in intensity while the arms moved down and pressed against my body at three different points. Without warning, the world exploded around me. There was white hot pain as electricity arced over my skin and the electrodes on the end of the arms poured enough current into me that the table began to heat up. After a slight lull the torture started again, this time in earnest.

Through this agony, however, came a new sensation. I felt a tickle of something that blossomed into a burning feeling, spreading and growing in intensity. My body spasmed and strained against the straps holding me down as my actuators energized. New statuses began reporting into my mind, telling me that I was now nearly thirty percent combat effective and climbing. Before long, I saw that the arms had actually retracted away, but the sensation of burning had not abated.

"He's up and running." I had not noticed that the Masters had returned. "Core is stable, power systems all at nominal levels. He's ready to sit and cool off; then he can be shipped off to his final assignment."

Without speaking to me two Masters wearing protective gear grabbed the still-smoking cart I lay upon and wheeled me into a cold, dark room. They left without comment, shutting the door and leaving me in darkness. I could hear my skin hissing as it cooled in the lower ambient temperature of the room. My new eyes automatically found a wavelength that I could see in, but it did nothing to lessen my fears. My mind was still fully intact and I was unsure if that was a good thing or not. Perhaps facing my future as a weapon would have been better if my previous hopes and dreams had been erased. It would have certainly been less cruel.

2

Planet S’Tora

286 Years Later

"MR. JASON! How are you?"

"Hello, Ertz." Jason Burke waved back to the squat little S'Toran that was gesticulating with both hands in an enthusiastic greeting. "How are things today?"

"Very good! This is the fourth generation of the crop that Mr. Doc has brought us and, as you can see, it is growing quite cheerfully," Ertz said. "The berries are now of the same size and consistency as the original sample of plants you brought to us."

"That last batch wasn't bad." Jason knelt down to inspect his latest business venture. "We sold out locally within the first three months and that was only a test batch. We should be ready for full export by the end of the year."

"Yes," Ertz nodded. "I will admit to being skeptical when you approached us about producing this caw-fee … it seemed too bitter and astringent, but if growth keeps steady I think we'll be clearing some of the tea fields to make room for your Arabicas."

"You'll thank me when we're rich." Jason smiled. "So what did you need to see me about?"

"The machinery Mr. Twingo provided us is simply inadequate for the volume we're talking about for this next harvest," Ertz said. "While the coffee is more profitable than tea, it's also much more labor intensive to get from harvest to sellable product. If I have to have my people run many small batches, it will not only increase costs but likely result in a lot of waste from the berries that rot before we can get to them."

"I'LL HANDLE IT," Jason assured him, though he wasn't completely certain how he would pull it off. Twingo, Omega Force's only engineer, was completely tied up with the extensive upgrades being done to his ship: the Phoenix. Jason couldn't afford to pull him off to begin work on a whole new set of processing equipment for his side venture.

"Was there anything else?"

"We have our first test batch from these fourth generation plants we wanted to give you," Ertz said, waving for Jason to follow him into the cavernous, utilitarian building. “I would have delivered it, but I think I've made my feelings known on having to come to your home. How you can live right by the water is a subject of much discussion around here."

"There are S'Torans who live on the water as well," Jason argued.

"And we view them as equally insane."

There was something deeply ingrained in the S'Toran psyche that made them almost irrationally fearful of bodies of water you couldn't see completely across. Lakes and rivers were fine, but the ocean was something that terrified them. There were some brave and enterprising S'Torans who forced themselves out onto the open water in order to harvest the bounty the ocean offered. While few, the hardy souls that lived by the sea were all quite wealthy. With each subsequent generation that lived by the water, a little more of that instinctual fear was lost. Doc had explained the phenomena to Jason before, but he'd quickly bored with the conversation and tuned him out.

After being held captive by Ertz while he explained all of the unique challenges Jason had brought to them, he was finally able to escape with a small package of what he hoped was Arabica coffee that was nearly indistinguishable from that found on Earth. He suspected Ertz was playing up the difficulties as a precursor to asking that his percentage be increased. S'Torans might seem simple and folksy, but they were shrewd and cutthroat business people.

Before he could be wrangled into any further debate, he slid behind the wheel of his '67 Camaro convertible, a parting gift for saving Earth once again, and fired up the 327 small block V8. Since S'Tora didn't have service stations on every corner, Twingo had modified the intake and fuel delivery so that it ran on a type of liquefied gas used in agriculture that was plentiful enough on the planet to be practical and still maintain the visceral feel of the antique muscle car's engine.

He let the clutch out and smashed the gas, letting the tires spin and smoke a bit before rolling off the throttle so they could bite. He roared down the narrow access road that led to Ertz's plantation. The car would have been utterly ridiculous on nearly any other planet in the quadrant, but somehow on the still mostly rural S'Tora, it made perfect sense.

Once he was on the main road that would take him back to the aerodrome where he had landed their cargo shuttle, a recent acquisition to help support his burgeoning new career as interstellar coffee trader, he reflected on how he'd stumbled into such a lucrative and completely legal enterprise. After years of suffering through mugs of vile chroot, he'd finally been able to return to Earth and get enough real coffee to last him for years. He'd also asked for mature plants, completely unaware of how coffee was actually made from the cherries of the plants, with the naïve dream of having his own little coffee garden that would supply his own needs.

As Doc began the arduous work of modifying the plants' genome for compatibility with S'Tora's ecosystem, Jason began to realize the potential windfall he was sitting on: He could be the first to introduce coffee to the rest of the galaxy. In fact, with Earth well on its way to being an established power, he needed to hurry and become the de facto supplier before his home planet realized that aliens loved it as much as normal, sane human beings. From there it was easy to find a partner as S'Tora had no shortage of farms and farmers looking to maximize profitability on the land they owned.

He pulled out his com unit and keyed in the code to open the shuttle as he turned off the road and went through the aerodrome's vacant security checkpoint. Without stopping, he drove the Camaro up the ramp and into the cargo bay, letting the automated systems secure the car once it rolled to a complete stop. Before he'd even secured his harness straps and settled into the pilot's seat, the computer was letting him know that the small aircraft was ready to fly.

The shuttle was strictly an atmospheric cargo hauler that had a maximum ceiling of just over ten thousand meters. It was also so new and modern that flying it was actually quite a bit simpler than driving his Camaro. He deftly launched the shuttle into the air and had it zipping along at low altitude for the forty-minute flight back to the coast.

"WE’RE ABOUT FINISHED, Jason," Twingo said as he wiped his hands on his filthy coveralls. "At least finished with this part."

"This is all structurally buttoned up?" Jason asked as he poked around the Phoenix's belly, rolling on an extendable maintenance stand so he could elevate himself up high enough to see where the crews had been working.

"Isn't that implied with the word finished?"

"You said about finished," Jason corrected. "With you that could mean completely done or you've put one bolt in and the wing could fall off if I stared at it too hard."

The Phoenix was undergoing her most extensive refit since the overhaul performed by the Eshquarian Empire after he'd crashed her through a factory. It was one of Omega Force's first missions and, looking back, Jason was surprised they hadn't been killed. They had been tossed in way over their heads and hadn't been experienced enough to know when to call it quits.

To keep up with the modern ships coming out of the commercial shipyards he'd had two choices: buy a new ship or shell out the money for a massive upgrade program for his Jepsen Aero DL7. The choice had been easy although not economically sound. For the last two years Twingo had been overseeing contracted engineering and manufacturing firms as they worked to develop replacement systems that were actually ahead of what the new norms were.

The gravimetric main drive had been one of the more exhausting propositions as the newest generation of standard-size grav emitters was physically incompatible with the location on the DL7 wings’ trailing edges. Since there was nowhere else on the ship they could be installed, the Phoenix had to have her wings replaced altogether, not an especially easy task. Doubly so since Twingo had insisted on doing the work in their own hangar, using local crews for the needed manual labor rather than taking the ship to Aracoria and having the professionals tear her down and get it done quickly.

Jason had given ground on this when Lucky pointed out that the gunship was starting to become notorious enough that there was a potential security risk leaving her unattended at a commercial facility for an extended period. It wasn't that he had even a shadow of a doubt that Twingo would get it done and likely do a better job than the techs and engineers at the Aracoria Shipyards, but he knew when his friend said weeks that it could very well mean months. Many months. Twingo became easily distracted when they were planetside and for the last five mornings straight every time Jason walked into the cavernous hangar he caught him puttering around with some pet project instead of working on the ship.

He'd tried cajoling, bribing, begging … now he was down to threatening. A strict deadline had to be imposed or it was possible the Phoenix would never be fit to fly again. Omega Force had been stuck on S'Tora for nearly nine months now waiting on the ship to be finished, and it was making two-thirds of them extremely restless. Jason, Crusher, Kage, and Lucky wanted back into space as soon as possible.

"The wings are now completely attached," Twingo said after he'd stopped spluttering and his color had returned to its normal hue of blue. "We've run the command and control lines all the way into port and starboard engineering and tomorrow we'll complete the plasma couplings. That's a tricky job and I'd rather do both sides myself when I'm fresh. We'll hold off on the wing root fillet panels until we've had a chance to pull her out and energize the drive and see what happens."

"Have we been able to test the other systems with umbilical power?" Jason asked as he lowered the stand and drove it back to the side of the hangar.

"We? Who the hell is we?" Twingo asked. "Yes … while you've been out playing with your shrubs WE have powered up the new tactical computer, point defense sensors, and power management subsystem."

"A little touchy about it, aren't you?" Jason asked. "I offered to help and—"

"Yes, I appreciated the offer from you and Crusher," Twingo deadpanned. "If I need something smashed with a rock and then lit on fire I'll call one of you. Otherwise I need Kage and Lucky here to help with the more detail-oriented work. No offense."

"Now why would I be offended by that?" Jason slapped his friend on the back of the head. "I have some of the latest batch from Ertz if you want to brew up a pot and continue insulting my intelligence."

"Sounds good to me," Twingo said. "How's this side venture progressing?"

"By leaps and bounds," Jason said. "In fact, we need more processing equipment up at his plantation. Any chance you wrote down what you did so we could go out of house to get two more complete sets built?"

"The drawings are on my terminal," Twingo said. "I'll put them on a card for you."

The rest of the evening passed quietly as night fell on the sleepy costal town. Afraid of being put to work, the rest of the crew was avoiding the hangar until the wings had been fully seated and installed, so Twingo and Jason were able to enjoy a rare moment alone as they sat in the mezzanine, sipping coffee and looking out over the back of the Phoenix. It wasn't until the overhead lights flicked on that Jason said goodnight to his friend and drove back to his house on the beach. He'd given Twingo a hard time, but it looked like they were really close to being able to start flight testing the ship. Then … back to work.

3

"It's cramped in here!"

"Nobody asked you to come along, you fat bastard, now move over!"

"Everybody shut up!"

Flight testing on the Phoenix's main drive had gone quickly and smoothly, and it had come to the moment when they would need to test the slip-drive. Although they had stuck to using industry standard components as much as they could, the implementation in the gunship was unique and untested. As such, nobody had volunteered to make the first flight. After much arguing and cheating at drawing straws, Twingo and Kage had come up with an acceptable alternative: the Phoenix would fly the test program unmanned.

Jason had procured a small intrasystem runabout and, after flying the Phoenix out past the second asteroid belt, he had disembarked and flown the smaller ship off until the gunship was just barely visible. For some unknown reason the entire crew had decided they wanted to come along, and the ship Jason had borrowed wasn't quite big enough for them to all fit comfortably.

"I warned you idiots this ship was small," he shouted over his shoulder from the pilot's seat. "We're going to be here awhile so figure it out. Or don't. Either way … shut the hell up or I'm turning around and taking you back home!"

"Good!"

There was some further muted grumbling and the sounds of slapping while he and Twingo brought all the test gear they'd installed on the Phoenix online. At Doc's insistence, they had instrumentation throughout the entire ship that would ensure that the drive wasn't malfunctioning and doing something like flooding the interior of the ship with neutron radiation. Actually, the gunship was wired up with enough auxiliary sensor equipment that they would be able to detect even the most minute vibration, emission, or noise that didn't belong.

"We're ready here," Twingo said, his face mirroring Jason's own apprehension.

"I can't believe we're doing this," he said. "Send her out."

"Sending test start command," Twingo said. They all watched without breathing as the Phoenix accelerated away on her own and disappeared a moment later with a muted flash of dissipating slip energies.

"If it doesn't come back we should get one of those new Eshquarian gunboats," Crusher said. "The ones with the heavy armor and a working galley that doesn't smell like week-old garbage."

"The galley was replaced, Crusher," Jason said, not taking the bait.

"Her slip-com node is active," Twingo said. "Everything looks normal so far. This is a good sign … if something catastrophic was going to happen it would have most likely happened during mesh-out."

"That makes me feel marginally better about sending my ship off on her own," Jason griped. "Now I only have to worry whether Kage's programming is correct and she'll show back up when and where she's supposed to."

Mercifully, Kage was too busy harassing Crusher to notice the thinly veiled insult and respond. Jason watched the status coming through the slip-com connection, tracking the Phoenix's speed and position. Theoretically, if the ship dropped out of slip-space they could try and find her from the last known position. Realistically, space was so incomprehensibly big and the ship so utterly tiny by comparison that if the slip-drive and the com node both failed the Phoenix would be lost forever. It was a fact that had Jason's heart in his throat as his ship began her first course change.

"She's dropped out of slip-space exactly on schedule," Twingo mumbled. "There's a two-minute lull while the instrumentation collects data and then she'll be on her way back."

Jason didn't reply; he just watched the display as the timer counted back. Right on schedule, he saw the status change as his ship meshed back into slip-space and came back towards them. He breathed a sigh of relief that the Phoenix seemed to be performing without issue. If it had somehow gotten stranded from either technical or programming issues they would have had to fly back to S'Tora, wrangle up a slip-capable ship, and go try to retrieve her. When the big shipyards did these tests they had semi-autonomous robots aboard and ships at both ends of the test course in case of mishaps. When a customer dropped a quarter-trillion ConFed credits on a new battlecruiser they usually weren't the type of people who thought "sorry, we lost it" was a valid excuse.

Right on schedule there was a flash off the starboard side of the runabout and the Phoenix's real-space transponder came through loud and clear. The gunship swung about gracefully and moved perfectly into formation right off their flank, stopping relative to their position in space.

"The computer flies better than the captain," Crusher said through a yawn.

"Thank you," Kage said.

"Why should you—"

"I programmed it," Kage insisted. "Technically, I'm flying the ship right now."

"Let's go ahead and dock and I'll go across and check things out," Jason said, initiating the automated sequence and extending the airlock cofferdam.

Jason made some show of making sure everyone stayed seated, insisting he'd just be a minute. After the airlock had pressurized and he'd convinced the Phoenix's computer he was who he claimed to be, the hatch to the gunship popped and swung inward. He walked over and resealed the hatch on the runabout before boarding his ship and sealing that hatch as well.

He stepped around all the data cables for the instrumentation that was strung haphazardly throughout the ship and made his way up to the bridge. Using his command authorization he disengaged all of Kage's programs and slid into the pilot's seat.

"I can't take another minute in that sweatbox with those assholes," he said to himself as he reached over to the copilot's station and keyed in the sequence to disengage the cofferdam. He took hold of the flight controls, checked that the main drive was still up and running, and slammed the throttle to the stop. The Phoenix surged with enough force that he was pressed back into the seat and he heard things crashing about on the main deck. He pulled around hard, keeping the power up, and aiming back for S'Tora.

"Phoenix, open a channel to the small runabout that was sitting off the port side."

"Channel open."

"I'll see you guys back at the hangar," Jason said with feigned cheerfulness. "Just wanted to check something out." He cut the channel right as Twingo started to speak. The sounds of the others arguing in the background could clearly be heard. Smiling to himself, he allowed the Phoenix to stretch her legs as she raced back to S'Tora. He'd be there many hours ahead of his friends even if they came about now and flogged the runabout for all it was worth.

SADITAVA MOK SAT PENSIVELY in his overstuffed chair, staring out over the mountains that were visible from the floor to ceiling window behind his desk. He'd been waiting for this day since he'd faked his own death and disappeared. His activities weren't going to stay hidden forever, and eventually someone was going to figure out who he really was, just as they had.

"Since you've come alone I assume that you have no intention of trying to take me in," Mok said, slowly spinning his chair back to face his unwelcome guest.

"I'm a realist, Colonel," the being said, his clipped, precise accent giving away his upbringing. "Your reputation for brutality is well-earned. I saw no point in needlessly wasting lives, nor am I suicidal, so no, I'm not here to bring you in."

"This is merely a social call then?"

"Of course not. I was hoping that we might work together. I understand why you left, but you have to see that you've set yourself up in this new life with the use of stolen government funds and resources. That doesn't sit well with your former superiors."

"Call it a lump sum withdraw on retirement owed, Arx," Mok said. "And all you see around you was not built with the paltry sum I escaped with."

"Of course," Arx said. "While we've not uncovered everything, we're aware that you slid into a spot vacated by a former crime boss … what was his name?"

"Bondrass," Mok provided. "And it wasn't just his place that I took, but that's not important right now. What is it you think I can help you with? Just so you know, I'm not adverse to helping out as an independent contractor."

"We were hoping we could appeal to your sense of patriotism," Arx said, causing Mok to laugh humorlessly.

"You've wasted your time, I'm afraid, Minister," Mok said. "When you were in charge of the intelligence service your underlings hung me out to dry to save their own political futures. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you had nothing to do with it … it's why you're still breathing. But any loyalty I had to the Eshquarian Empire withered and died in the years following your people burning me. Years where I had to run from both my own people and those you outed me to."

"I understand your bitterness," Arx said, now looking nervous. "But this isn't about the Empire directly, and it will have profound effects on your own ventures: The ConFed is on the brink of collapse."

"That's it?" Mok scoffed. "That's why you came all this way? Arx, the ConFed is always on the brink of collapse. It has been since before either of us was born."

"This is different," Arx insisted, sliding a data card across the desk and standing. "Please look at that. You know how to get a hold of me."

Mok sat in surprised silence as Arx quickly left the office without a look back. He'd fully expected that he would be the one to force the meeting to a close. There was zero trust between the two, but Mok didn't think his former associate would do something so foolish as to try to have him killed with a poisoned data card or some other unconventional ploy. Mok knew where all the skeletons were buried, and he was sure Arx was aware of the few times he'd used those as leverage to get what he needed. If Mok died there were things already in place that would ensure nearly half the Eshquarian elected government would resign in disgrace.

"So what are you all about?" he asked himself, palming the data card and standing up. He had an isolated terminal in a faraday cage in a room two floors down. The room also had instrumentation to pick up anything sneaky like weak slip-space fields or anything else an intelligence service with a huge budget might dream up. He was certain it was more of the same when it came to rumors of the ConFed's imminent demise, but he didn't stay on top by being sloppy and dismissive.

4

"I'm still not speaking to you," Kage said as he walked by.

"It's strange he thinks that's some sort of punishment," Jason remarked to Twingo as the pair continued through the Phoenix. Each held a tablet computer with identical checklists, the redundancy of them both doing the final inspection ensuring something wasn't missed or glossed over.

When Jason had left them all stranded on the slow runabout a few weeks prior, apparently it had sparked off some real conflict once they all figured out they would be stuck with each other in the cramped ship for at least another nine hours. Since he meant it as a harmless joke Jason was surprised at the venom directed his way once the ship made its way back to the starport and they flew back in his air shuttle.

"I think not living together on this ship fulltime is having some unintended consequences," Twingo grunted as he stretched around a main brace in one of the starboard mechanical servicing bays. He was trying to reach and ensure a series of quick-turn valves used only in depot level maintenance were closed and safety wired so they couldn't be inadvertently opened.

"I'm listening," Jason said as he held a light over Twingo's head so his friend could use both arms to position himself.

"We're all starting to get a bit more territorial now that we're used to so much personal space," Twingo went on. "I know this overhaul has been long overdue, but we also haven't had a real mission now for over a year. Back in the old days sitting in that cramped shuttle for only half a day wouldn't have even caused a ripple. Now, they all want to kill each other."

"So what's the solution?" Jason frowned as he considered what his friend was saying and what it meant for his team's dynamic.

"Barring moving back onto the Phoenix and living like nomads again?" Twingo huffed as he slid out of the access hatch and onto the floor. "Just accept that things change over time."

"As long as it doesn't affect our ability to do the job, I guess there isn't much I can do about it," Jason said.

The rest of the inspections went quickly and soon Jason and Twingo were standing at the foot of the ramp and looking over each other's notes. After a bit more arguing, they cleared the Phoenix as fully mission capable. Since they fell under no overarching authority as private owner/operators of an interstellar starship, Jason and Twingo took the task of maintaining the aging gunship very seriously. Everything was documented, triple-checked, and tracked. On a machine as complex as the Phoenix, there was no shortage of ways to die due to shoddy maintenance practices.

Jason let his friend get back to his other pursuits and spent the rest of the day supervising his array of service bots as they scrubbed and polished the DL7. Now that the ship was ready to go, he had to see about kicking up a job. The itch to get back at it was especially powerful since there was nothing holding him up. He'd check once more on his coffee crop with Ertz and then he could load the Phoenix up and see if they couldn't find a little trouble to get into.

"WHAT'VE you been keeping yourself busy with?" Jason asked as he walked into his home.

"I have been monitoring current political situations developing throughout the quadrant in anticipation of the Phoenix being ready for service soon," Lucky said from the nook near the kitchen that was crammed with communication equipment. The shelf the terminal sat on had been raised to accommodate the battlesynth's preference of standing whenever possible.

"Anything interesting?" Jason walked into the kitchen to grab one of the local beer-like drinks. It was an interesting concoction of fermented sugars infused with tea and then carbonated.

"I am getting the sense that something significant is about to happen," Lucky said. "But I cannot point to a single incident as proof of that. Four of the major powers, three which have seats on the ConFed Council of Primes, are recalling their militaries and pulling back to their core systems. The Saabror Protectorate has even pulled away from their most recently added member worlds."

"And you think they know something we don't?" Jason leaned against the door frame and looked in at what his friend was doing.

"It stands to reason. In addition to being isolated here on S'Tora, our access to high-level intelligence had been severely curtailed with the restructuring of Crisstof Dalton's military arm."

"I do feel a little more blind than usual," Jason agreed. "Maybe we can reach out to Carolyn and Abiyah and see what they've heard."

"I have already taken the liberty," Lucky said, shutting down the terminal and looking at Jason. "We do not have a direct line to them, however, so it may be some time before they check the address of the blind-drop messaging service they provided."

"Untrusting bunch," Jason griped and pushed off the wall. He walked out onto the deck and looked out over the ocean as the gentle swells broke up on the pink sand. "I'll start checking all of our usual sources tomorrow and see what there is out there for us. Hopefully everything you're seeing is simply a chain reaction of responses kicked off by someone's unrelated fleet movements."

"Do you really believe that?" Lucky asked.

"Not for a second," Jason said after taking a long drink.

"YOU'VE REVIEWED the raw data?"

"I have," a subdued Saditava Mok said with a slow nod. "I will agree that the situation is … precarious … but your analysts have yet to foresee what the keystone is. For this scenario to play out as you have predicted, a very specific set of events will have to be put into motion."

"We believe we have, but that's information that we'll keep to ourselves for the time being, Colonel. Your currency is information and I've given you quite a lot already while asking for nothing save a few moments of your time."

"Prudent," Mok agreed. "However, a lot of this is a tad too convenient, almost orchestrated. Is the Empire moving the pieces around on the board to get what they want? It's no secret that a quadrant free of ConFed influence would greatly benefit the Eshquarian government and its main export of starships and weapon systems."

"You can't seriously think I would answer that?" Arx asked with a dry laugh. "Right now we're simply speculating about what might happen given a certain set of conditions."

"Let me rephrase that," Mok said. "Will you, or have you already actively tried to tip the scales while an overtaxed ConFed Starfleet tries to keep a lid on all these disassociated situations?"

The circular conversation was beginning to wear on Mok's patience. The Eshquarian Minister, formerly a high-ranking military officer that had been second in command of the Empire's intelligence service, had been staying at his compound for the last four days and he was quickly becoming an unwelcome guest.

He'd yet to come out and directly ask Mok for assistance or threaten him to coerce his cooperation, but that was likely just a matter of time. He went by Minister Sorlotta Arx, but Mok still knew him as Third General Mossat Maasch. While Arx was a well-respected member of the Eshquarian Assembly, Maasch was a suspected war criminal who had been forced to assume a new identity after investigations had begun to dig up some uncomfortable connections to an incident on a mining colony world in which terrorists tried to drop a massive orbital platform onto the surface settlement.

The planet had been a little known world named Shorret-3, and its official status was that of a mining colony. What few knew, Mok being one of them, was that the planet had another function that the mining operation conveniently covered up. In automated factories buried beneath the city, large-scale weapons production was being carried out at the direction of a rogue faction within the intelligence community. During lulls in ore production, the weapons were loaded into tether cars and ferried up to the massive orbital platform where cargo ships flying civilian registrations would pick them up and take them somewhere else for storage.

The Shorret Operation had two goals: The first was to be a source of funding for the conspirators that wouldn't show up in even the most rigorous audit. Second, to provide a source of uncontrolled munitions in great enough quantity to cause a destabilizing effect in the region. The problems started when the faction splintered and military-grade weapons began ending up in the hands of common thugs who had no problem turning them on civilians. The Empire began to question why the hell the pirates and gangsters in the Cluster suddenly had sensor-evading, ship-busting missiles and orbit-to-surface tactical weapons.

Once the heat was really turned up, the decision was made to end the Shorret Operation and regroup. Since underground factories were not easily dismantled now that a city had popped up over them, someone made the decision to stage an accident that would eliminate all evidence … as well as the entire population on the surface, all of whom lived within the city. Mok was convinced it was Maasch who had ordered that the city be destroyed to cover up his little gun-running scheme.

Thanks to a then-unknown group of mercenaries, he didn't get away with it. The authorities found the five massive production facilities easily, and Maasch had been forced to fake his own death and assume a new identity, an escape plan he'd had in place for a long time. It had been the first time the name Omega Force had come to Mok's attention. When he had someone dig a little deeper into these new players, he was stunned to find it was the same group that had taken out his predecessor, Bondrass, and allowed him to accelerate his own plans. He'd kept careful tabs on the group ever since.

"Someone in your position is well-aware of how precarious the ConFed's hold is on its own member worlds right now," Arx said. "This is going to happen, one way or another. Wouldn't you like to be involved so that you're in a position to benefit from the chaos, not be swallowed up by it?"

"And yet you've still not told me what you actually need from me," Mok said.

"Just your word that when I come to you again, you'll at least hear me out," Arx said, standing with a slight grunt. "I'm well-aware of what you must think of me, Colonel … I'm hoping your better sense as a businessman will prevail and you'll see the benefit—the necessity—of what I'll propose."

"I'll listen," Mok said. "But that's all I'll promise for now."

Arx nodded and walked towards the door at the far end of the cavernous office before Mok called out to him again. "And General, when you come back to talk … you come alone."

Arx stiffened and stopped but didn't turn or reply before he yanked the door open and walked through.

"Is there anything else you'll need, sir?" said one of his assistants, who came in immediately after Arx left.

"Tell Captain Chojal that I will be departing as soon as possible and to prep my ship," Mok said as he stood. "No escort and I want to run clean, generic codes."

"Your destination, sir?"

"S'Tora Prime."

5

"Captain, we have visitors," Lucky's voice came over the Phoenix's intercom. Jason was in the ship finishing up some last minor details and checking out their shiny new galley that, most importantly, dispensed edible food. It was the latest and greatest in food synthesis technology and, he hoped, as reliable as the salesperson said it was. Like in any other military or paramilitary unit he'd ever been in, a lack of decent food was one of the top three morale killers in Omega Force. The last unit had almost caused a mutiny until they'd finally tossed it off the back ramp over a planet Jason wasn't particularly fond of.

There had been some argument about installing a full kitchen-style galley and letting Lucky cook their meals, but Jason had to exercise his veto power on that one once he'd been outnumbered. He and Twingo seemed unable to make the others understand that cooking on a small interstellar vessel wasn't the smartest thing to do. The environmental system would have to scrub all the aerosolized oils and moisture out of the air quickly, no mean feat for a closed system, and the process itself lent to more mess than Jason was willing to deal with. He'd finally convinced Crusher to switch sides when he mentioned that during combat operations Lucky was essential personnel and wouldn’t have time to cook for him.

"I'm on my way," he shouted up to the ceiling, assuming the computer would forward it to Lucky's com unit. He wiped his hands off on a rag that he found on one of the galley tables and jogged back to the main hatchway that led out to the cargo bay. Once he was down the steps and to the edge of the ramp, he saw a powerfully built bipedal alien talking to Lucky and knew who it was instantly. He was also not at all pleased that this individual had shown up unannounced to his home.

Maybe Carolyn was right … putting down roots may have been a foolish move.

"SADITAVA MOK," Jason called as he walked down the ramp, adjusting the plasma pistol that sat in the inside-the-waistband holster he had in the small of his back. "To what do I owe this unexpected and dubious pleasure? Thanks for not bringing your Korkaran muscle, by the way."

"Out of respect for the Lord Archon's sensibilities," Mok said, bowing slightly and ignoring Jason's brusque tone. "I apologize for invading your sanctum, Captain Burke, but a situation has come up that I think we might want to combine our efforts in addressing."

"You're alone?" Jason asked in surprise.

"My shuttle dropped me off at the starport," Mok said. "I walked the rest of the way and yes, I came alone."

Jason had to remind himself again that Saditava Mok was no pencil pusher who just happened to dabble in less-than-legal enterprises. He no doubt had multiple contracts out for his head and yet he walked alone without fear through an unknown town on a strange planet just to talk. Whatever his previous profession had been, Jason had no doubt that it had honed him into something dangerous. He wasn't to be underestimated.

"We can go inside," Jason gestured over his shoulder. "I'm assuming that whatever you want to talk about is sensitive in nature."

He turned his back on Mok and led the way into the hangar to the open-air cargo lift that would take them up to the mezzanine nearly fifteen meters above the floor. As he expected, he heard Lucky's footfalls as the battlesynth followed close to Mok, keeping an eye on him for any threatening gestures. Jason walked through the open area of the mezzanine and led the small group into a large office that also served as a secure conference room. It was shielded against all manner of remote listening devices for times when the massive hangar doors were wide open.

"So what's so important you had to come all the way out here yourself?" Jason asked. "Is encrypted slip-com not secure enough for you?"

"That question has multiple answers." Mok smiled. "You never actually answer your com node when I try to contact you, so no, I don't think the com buffers are secure enough to risk leaving you an extended message. Not only that, but you routinely ignore my messages until you are either very drunk or very bored."

"Usually both," Jason said. "But go on."

"I also wanted to get away for a bit," Mok finished. "No matter how luxurious you make it, a hardened facility is still a prison if you're unable to come and go as you please."

"True enough," Jason said, stifling a yawn. "Just so we're clear on something, this better not be some bullshit pretense to get us onboard with joining—"

"Captain, I have taken your continued insults with as much good humor as I can muster; however, my patience with it is running thin," Mok said in a voice that made it clear he was not accustomed to being questioned or disobeyed. "Let's be honest; your small band of happy mercenaries is unique, but you're not something I couldn't replicate through quantity … and I have plenty of money to buy all the quantity I need."

"So why all the not-so-subtle efforts to roll us into your operation?" Jason asked. "If you can buy and lose a hundred of us, why give us help when we needed it with no expectation of being repaid?"

"Because your group has some attributes that make you useful in certain cases," Mok said. "That's all I will say on the matter for now. I am not what you think I am, nor do I feel inclined to explain myself to someone with as much blood on his hands as you have. Now … are you at all interested to learn why I've flown for nearly two weeks to your secret base or not?"

"I'm still listening." Jason crossed his arms.

It took Mok a little over an hour to lay out his case, complete with some visual evidence he'd brought with him on a slick little holographic projection interface. A lot of it seemed circumstantial and fairly thin to Jason, but he knew things were never as they seemed with Mok. There was a lot he wasn't telling, and Jason had to assume the information was being presented with a slant tailored to get him to react the way Mok wanted. The problem was, Jason couldn't see the angle. It didn't matter that he knew not to take the gangster at his word if he didn't even have a hint as to what the final goal might be.

"We will agree to conduct a preliminary recon based on this information." Lucky spoke up once Mok had finished his presentation. Both biological beings turned and looked at the battlesynth in surprise.

"We will?" Jason asked.

"Yes," Lucky insisted. The chain of command in Omega Force was more a loose guideline than the rigid structure of an actual military unit. Jason bit off his instinctual response and gave it a second's thought. If Lucky had jumped in, he must have thought Jason was going to reject the request and had good reason that they accept the job.

"You heard him," Jason said. "We'll take a look at some of this and get back to you. Nothing past that for right now though."

"It's honestly more than I expected given the state of things between us," Mok said.

"I don't hate you, Mok … hell I don't even dislike you." Jason laughed humorlessly. "You've helped us out of some tough spots and I haven't forgotten that. The problem is that I don't trust you. For all I know you're involved in things that would make Bondrass look like a Worczest Monk by comparison."

"Understood." Mok stood up and offered his hand, mimicking the human gesture he'd learned from Jason. "I will leave this holo interface here so you can review it at your leisure. Thank you for your time, Captain Burke."

Jason watched him exit the secure room and walk back towards the lift, pausing momentarily to look out over the Phoenix. "I assume you're going to explain why we're taking this job?" Jason asked Lucky.

"Of course," the battlesynth said. "And thank you for trusting me."

"Always do."

JASON SPENT the rest of the afternoon closing up his house as he always did when leaving for an extended period while Lucky went into town to get everything he needed for that evening. Before getting the crew together and explaining the mission, Jason thought it would be a good idea for a grill out in the hangar the night before departing. It allowed him to keep everyone in one place and not interacting with the locals should the party get a little out of hand.

He secured what little he had in the way of valuables in a hidden safe embedded in the house's foundation. There were some personal effects from before he was shanghaied aboard the gunship, like pictures and letters, as well as a few new things he'd picked up along the way.

There was a Beretta M9 pistol that Russ Johnson had given him. It was more nostalgic than useful since he had no ammunition for it and had much better weaponry at his disposal in his armory. There was also an Omega Speedmaster stainless steel watch that Marcus Webb had given him before he left Earth as a sort of peace offering for the friction between them early on and possibly as an apology for setting out to kill him without knowing the facts. It was a beautiful timepiece and Jason appreciated the gesture. So much so that he didn't have the heart to tell Marcus a twenty-four-hour watch with an Earth-based calendar was fairly useless unless one was actually on Earth.

He kept in touch with Russ and Marcus as best he could as Earth continued on its inexorable march into the larger galactic community, but friendships over thousands of lightyears were hard to maintain. He set those in the safe along with a handwritten note from President Abigail Hightower thanking him for his service. She'd given it to him right before publicly declaring him a fugitive again and blaming him for the attacks on Earth.

The last thing he put in was a framed photo of himself standing next to a young man that looked to be in his mid to late teens. He had a digital copy, of course, but he didn't want to leave anything lying around that would lead anyone to believe the boy was important to him and put him at risk. Jacob Brown, named for Jason's father and using his mother's last name, was the son he had only recently found out about. He was conceived during the short time Jason had reunited with Taryn Brown, his ex-girlfriend, and he'd been unaware of the boy's existence until recently.

He sighed and let the door on the safe fall shut with a thud before keying in the lock code. After replacing the bit of false-floor, he made one more pass through the house before walking out and hopping into his Camaro, wanting to beat what looked like an approaching coastal squall while he still had the top down. With a final look over his shoulder, he spun his tires out of the gravel parking pad in front of the house and fishtailed wildly down the narrow street on his way back to the hangar.

"What's going on? We get a contract?" Crusher shouted at him as he drove his car into the hangar, underneath the Phoenix, and parked it in one of the storage cages near the nose of the ship.

"Sneak and peak on a core world that Lucky thinks we should take seriously," Jason said. "We'll go over the details later. I gave Lucky a thousand S'Toran kilnns and told him to spare no expense on dinner tonight. We'll be wheels up first thing in the morning."

The mention of food seemed to put Crusher off from digging for more details. He shrugged and appeared to lose all interest, stopping only to leave a huge, greasy thumb print on the rear fender of the car and smiling as he walked off.

"Damn him!" Jason huffed under his breath and wiped the car off with the tail of his shirt.

Lucky arrived shortly afterwards in a boxy ground vehicle Twingo had bought specifically to move delicate components from the Phoenix's navigation sensor array to a shop a few hundred kilometers away that had the necessary equipment to do a bench-level realignment. Afterwards he procrastinated about selling the unneeded vehicle and Lucky had laid claim to it, eliminating any chance the engineer had of getting his money back. He'd whined to Jason about being reimbursed but was told to take it up with Lucky. Twingo had grumbled but dropped the subject when he saw how attached the battlesynth had become to the cargo van.

"So you want to get this out of the way now?" Kage asked.

"Might as well," Jason said. He realized he had likely screwed up by trying to hold an initial mission brief during what would undoubtedly become a raucous party within a short span. "Everyone listen up! Let's get this bit of business taken care of and then you can commence with the killing of your brain cells."

"Did I hear correctly that Saditava Mok was here in the hangar earlier today?" Doc asked.

"You did," Jason said. "And before the real protests start … yes, that's who this job is for." He let the comments regarding his intellect, questionable parentage, and exasperated huffs die down before continuing.

"We're going to a planet called Khepri. It's one of the core worlds—actually it's one of the ConFed Pillar Worlds—so our lack of any affiliation is one of the main reasons we were asked. The city we'll be heading to is Cenk Vale, the Kheprian capital, and we'll be looking for signs of a covert military buildup."

"This doesn't seem like our usual type of gig," Kage said. "Why did we take this again? Are we already hurting for money after that last mission?"

"We're not spies," Crusher agreed. "What makes us any more qualified to look in on this than some random sniffer Mok could find off the street?"

"Lucky, this was your idea … the floor is yours," Jason said.

"The military buildup in Khepri could be viewed as one of a few precursor events that might lead to the destabilization and collapse of the ConFed," Lucky said. "Or at the very least it would significantly reduce their influence to the point of making them irrelevant."

"This old song again?" Crusher moaned. "Ignoring the fact that we seem to be on the verge of a ConFed collapse every few years, what makes this planet so unique that we want to go there?"

"Khepri is the planet of my birth," Lucky said. "The indigenous species, called pru, are my creators."

"Look, buddy, I'm all for nostalgia," Twingo said, "but that's hardly a reason to—"

"The pru have very little in the way of a standing military," Lucky interrupted. "If there is a buildup or escalation happening on the planet, it means that synths are involved. Specifically, they will have recalled the remaining battlesynths if they feel threatened." Everyone remained quiet for a moment, digesting that bit of news.

"What do they have for a fleet?" Jason asked. "No offense, but even a thousand of you would be of little use against an orbital strike."

"Khepri relies entirely on the ConFed fleet," Kage spoke up, reading from one of the tablets he always had clutched in his hands. "As a Pillar World they enjoy unfettered access to fleet assets as well as priority defense status in the event of an incident."

"That brings up an interesting point," Doc said. "What's our premise here? Are the pru trying to take down the ConFed? Because it seems like they enjoy more perks than most and would have a vested interest in keeping it strong and stable."

"We are not sure what the goal might be," Lucky said, reasserting control over the discussion. "However, I am sure that any overt aggressive actions will not have been sanctioned by the Kheprian government."

"You have suspicions?" Crusher asked.

"I need to see if any of the remaining battlesynth units have been called home," Lucky said. "There are only a few that would have the access to be able to accomplish that. It will tell us much as to what might be behind this, and who."

"So we're all in agreement about doing this?" Jason asked.

The others looked at each other with varying degrees of disinterest and indifference.

"It's not like we have anything else going on," Crusher said. "Between you playing with your weeds and Twingo dragging his ass putting the ship back together I had about given up on the notion we were ever getting back to work."

"Okay then, we'll hammer out the details once we're underway," Jason said. "Lucky, let me know if you need any help with the food. Kage, I have a quick job for you before we depart."

Thanks to the storm Jason had seen kicking up earlier they'd moved the wood-burning grill inside and rigged up one of the maintenance fume extractors over it so Lucky could cook without standing outside under the flimsy lean-to they used for ground car parking. The rest of them all sat on the back ramp of the Phoenix to drink and heckle each other until the food was ready.

Overall it ended up being a very pleasant and blessedly calm evening with friends. Lucky's culinary prowess continued to advance and the mix of meats, seafood, and vegetables that came off the grill was nothing short of amazing. It was still a somewhat surreal sight to see one of the galaxy's most potent weapons hunched over a grill and fretting about overcooking the skewered fish. Cooking for his friends seemed to be something Lucky took very seriously, so Jason was thankful he had a genuine knack for it. Trying to choke down something inedible, or potentially dangerous, just to spare his feelings would become tedious.

He slept on the ship in his quarters that night, a thousand thoughts flitting through his mind before he drifted off to sleep. There was concern about the mission and what effect it might have on Lucky, worry about his own species as they continued to drive forward quickly as an emerging spacefaring power, and a constant feeling of regret revolving around a son that he had no connection to. He had no answer for any of these, but he worried nonetheless.

6

The storm that had been threatening the coastline the previous day finally let loose sometime during the night. Jason woke up and could hear the pounding rain even inside the ship. The driving wind lashed at the closed doors and shook them in the tracks. He groaned and swung out of his rack, grabbing his toiletry bag and slipping on his soccer sandals, intent on getting to one of the three bathrooms in the hangar before everyone else was up and about.

The hangar was chilly and damp as he stepped over and around all the support equipment still attached to his ship. He made a mental note to have Twingo adjust the environmental system to dry the place out once they'd left. The idea of cutting back into the natural rock formation to build their hangar had seemed great at the time, but the reality was that they were always fighting moisture and temperature that wouldn't be an issue with a freestanding building. Jason blamed the A'arcooni influence on them when they began designing their base. The alien species used a type of geopolymer to build their cities that gave the impression of monolithic structures carved out of solid stone. It was something that he and Twingo had been very taken with and had mimicked poorly with their own design.

After he'd showered and donned one of his generic dark gray uniforms he still preferred, he went out onto the expansive mezzanine, prepared to have to rouse his crew so they could depart on time. Happily, they were all awake, bright-eyed and petitioning Lucky for breakfast before being stuck eating food from a synthesizer.

"It's brand new equipment we've never even used and you're already bitching about it?" Jason said with exasperation.

"It's the principle," Crusher said. "Complaining about the food is a cornerstone of our team dynamic."

"Whatever," Jason muttered. "Twingo, want to give me a hand getting her unhooked and prepped for rollout?"

In the thirty minutes it took Lucky to prepare their last meal at home for a while, Jason and Twingo were able to top off the fuel load, begin the preflight sequence including main reactor start, and disconnect all the maintenance umbilicals that provided power, air, and water while the ship was dormant along with the cryogenic line that fed the liquid hydrogen fuel into the containment cells. Once the Phoenix began hissing and rumbling as her various subsystems came online, Jason activated the hangars powerful overhead vents, not wanting to open the doors just yet.

"We ready to hit it?" he asked impatiently once everyone had fed themselves and cleaned up.

"You in some kind of hurry?" Kage asked, making no move to get up.

"Make one last sweep to make sure you haven't forgotten anything and then get aboard," Jason said, ignoring him.

It was another fifteen minutes before they were all in their seats on the bridge and Jason was able to close and lock the rear ramp and pressure doors.

"Go ahead and open the doors," he said to Kage. "Twingo, how long until we have flight power?"

"Reactor is at forty-four percent and climbing steadily," Twingo answered. "Main drive power will be available in seven minutes."

As the hangar doors parted, Jason could see bits of trash the service bots hadn't cleaned up yet swirling around from the wind howling in off the sea. Weather prediction wasn't something the S'Torans took too seriously, so he wasn't entirely sure how harsh this storm was going to get, but the instrumentation they had outside showed the winds gusting up to seventy-five KPH.

After one final look at his instruments and the external camera views, he released the brakes and backed the gunship out of the hangar slowly. Once the vertical stabilizers cleared the threshold, the Phoenix began to rock and sway in the wind. Jason increased his ground speed a touch so he could get the ship outside and close the doors before too much rain was blown inside.

"Closing the doors and setting security protocol Alpha-One-One," Kage said once the nose cone was a few meters clear.

"Reactor at seventy-two percent and climbing," Twingo said. "Main Bus A and B have full power available. Main drive is energized and charging … two more minutes."

Rain pelted and ran off the canopy in sheets while the Phoenix hummed from her main reactor coming up to full power. Now fully exposed, the ship was really shaking as the gusts eddied around the stabilizers and over the lifting surfaces. Jason closed his eyes and let his neural implant integrate with the ship. He would definitely want to use the more powerful multi-spectral sensor feed from the ship as they flew up and out of the storm.

"Everything checks out, Captain," Twingo said. "You're cleared for flight."

"Clear on my end," Kage said. "Building is secure and all of the Phoenix's computers are booted and running."

"Stand by," Jason said. "Taking us up."

He checked local airspace out of habit, not that he expected anybody to be flying around in this, and rapidly fed power to the main drive. The Phoenix lurched into the air and rose at a dizzying speed before he began to angle the nose up and away from the mainland.

Another aspect of their base was that the rock formation it was built into rose up to a peak nearly fifty meters in the air. When wind conditions were this extreme, he had to get up and clear quickly so an errant gust didn't take him too close to the rock face. There was a delicate though brief transition period right after the weight came off the wheels and the grav-drive assumed total control on their orientation and position when she was vulnerable to strong winds pushing her about.

Now clear of any potential obstacles, he angled the nose up sharply and pushed the throttle forward. The Phoenix was still buffeted by the wind and rain as she clawed her way up to orbit, but the effect was greatly muted now that the grav-drive was fully engaged. The sky ahead began to lighten and soon they burst through the top layer of clouds into the brilliant sunlight of the S'Toran morning. Jason bumped up the power and came onto the insertion vector Kage had sent to get them into orbit; from there they would break for the outer system.

"Feels good to be going somewhere," Crusher said from where he had his feet propped up on a console. There was a muttered consensus from the others and a general feeling of excitement and eagerness.

"That it does," Jason agreed. Thoughts of side businesses and estranged family fell away as the sky turned black through the canopy. They'd definitely been away from it for too long and the thrill of potential adventure and the chance to do some good was calling him.

Why did we ever settle and put down roots? This is where we belong.

IT WAS the fourth day of the flight to Khepri when Twingo strutted onto the bridge and stood by the pilot's seat, his chest all puffed up. He stood there for ninety seconds waiting for Jason to acknowledge him but was eventually unable to contain himself.

"We're at eighty-five percent of our maximum slip-space velocity, but we're actually going twenty-seven percent faster than the old drive could do when it was at maximum," Twingo said.

Jason turned his head slowly and looked at him with a blank expression.

"And?"

"And!?" Twingo spluttered. "We're not even pushing the drive hard and we're traveling faster than the old system was capable of even in an emergency override condition!"

"Wasn't that the entire point of the upgrade?" Jason deadpanned. Twingo's normally blue face turned a deep shade of purple and the tips of his pointed ears began vibrating, a sign that the stout engineer was completely enraged. He took one step back and then stomped off the bridge. Once he was gone, Crusher and Kage both began to applaud slowly.

"That was perfectly done." Crusher nodded in appreciation. "He'll be pissed for a week after that."

Jason winked at him and climbed out of the pilot's seat. "I'm going to grab something to eat," he said. "I think we can rotate back to normal bridge watches. The drive hasn't even hiccupped the entire flight, so I don't think we need full coverage to babysit it."

Jason walked up to the new food synthesizer, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as the display lit up from his proximity. He scrolled through a few choices before deciding on chicken parmigiana and a glass of water. When they'd left Earth the last time they'd had to reprovision for the flight home since they'd already tossed their old non-functional food processor out. The Phoenix had been loaded up with crates of cryogenically frozen meals from his home planet that, as a token of appreciation, had been expertly prepared by some of the best chefs in Las Vegas. He'd made sure that he kept one of each menu choice in its cryopack until the new synthesizer arrived, then he was able to use those to program the new unit.

The result of all the work was that now he was able to enjoy his favorite meals from home anytime he wanted aboard his ship. Couple that with a custom-designed brew system in the galley that could make coffee even on a ship that sometimes experienced unpredictable gravitational conditions and he was a happy camper. Twingo had designed and fabricated the unit as a birthday present once he'd learned humans placed significance on the day they were born.

"Lucky!" he called out as his friend walked across the main deck towards the stairs that would lead up to the command deck, no doubt going early to start his bridge watch.

"Captain."

"You have a minute?"

"Of course," Lucky said.

"I've been going over the information Mok gave us as well as your own suspicions about what may be happening on Khepri, and I'm a little fuzzy on one detail," Jason said, wiping his hands on his shirt and pushing the tray off to the side. "You said that the remaining battlesynths would have been recalled by your creators."

"Yes," Lucky affirmed but offered no further detail.

"What's the mechanism for this?" Jason pressed. "Have you been recalled as well? Is that why we're going there or is there something you're not telling me?" Although it was interesting to watch battlesynth almost physically squirm, it also let Jason know he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Come on … out with it."

"In nearly every battlesynth there is a module that serves two purposes," Lucky said. "It allows them to be recalled via almost any public communications network they happen to be in close proximity to, and it contains a set of override protocols that make it impossible for that combat unit to refuse commands or disobey. It is a little known failsafe that was built into the weaponized synths."

The implications of what Lucky was saying sent a chill through Jason. It was terrifying and radically altered Jason's admittedly unqualified opinion of Lucky's creators. He'd been led to believe they were benevolent scientists and engineers who had given birth to an entirely new and unique species that they set free out of their own magnanimity. From what he was hearing now that might not be the truth.

"Okay," he said slowly. "So I'm guessing you either don't have one of these units or had it removed at some point?"

"I never had one," Lucky said. When he fell silent Jason made an impatient motion for him to continue. "I have no desire to relive my construction, but I will say that had it not been for a series of unfortunate coincidences I would not have been a battlesynth. The Master that was responsible for my transition from awakening to full operation did not wish to see me live a life I did not choose for myself, so he installed a module that would pass all the final inspections we went through prior to being deemed fully operational, but it would not enable a Master to remotely compel me against my will."

"We're going to have to sit down sometime and you can tell me the whole story," Jason said. It was the most he'd ever gotten out of his friend about his past, much less the story of his birth, for lack of a better term. He was honored that Lucky chose to confide in him.

"So I'm guessing you wanting this mission had little to do with the ConFed's imminent collapse?"

"I am unsure what side we should be on regarding the dissolution of the ConFed," Lucky said.

"You're kidding!" Jason's mouth hung open. "After all we've seen and fought against?"

"I am not arguing in favor of the ConFed, only that we do not know what the unintended consequences might be if it was suddenly gone," Lucky said in his infuriatingly calm way. "Regardless I do not think we will make a difference one way or the other no matter our opinions. Greater forces moving against one another will determine that. But if we find out that the Masters on Khepri have decided to use what few battlesynths are left for a political goal, we might be able to do something about that."

"Fair enough," Jason conceded. "We have nine more days at our current speed before we reach your homeworld. I'd appreciate it if you could put together some sort of plan of attack. I'm sure you have some ideas of where we should begin poking around, and I'll also need you to get a mission brief ready for the others so we're not wandering around aimlessly."

"Of course, Captain."

Jason slid his tray over to where the service bots would be able to quickly grab it and headed to his quarters. He felt like Lucky should have trusted them more and been upfront about his reasons for wanting to go back home right away, but he also understood the reluctance. A couple centuries of being lied to and manipulated builds up a lot of scar tissue. He tried not to take it personally that his friend still withheld things from time to time.

KHEPRI WAS everything Jason had expected. The pru were a highly evolved species that had lived on the planet for close to a million years according to the data he'd read on the flight out. The scars of early industrialization were erased and the cities were models of an eco-friendly existence. The world was unique in that the ocean coverage was equal to the total area of the three large landmasses whereas most worlds tended to be either mostly water or mostly dry.

As the Phoenix loitered in a high holding orbit waiting for permission to land, the crew watched and read as much from local news sources as they could. The political discussions in the media were open and frank, allowing them to get at least some idea of what might be happening on the planet. Mok's request was so vague that had Lucky not jumped in Jason would have laughed in his face.

Trying to find random evidence of potential insurrection on an unfamiliar planet was next to impossible. Jason had agreed to come because, in addition to allowing for a more complete shakedown of his ship, he assumed that Lucky knew something he hadn't yet shared with the others.

"We've received a request from Khepri Landing Authority," Doc said from the copilot's seat. "They want to slave our autopilot to their system."

"Acknowledge the request and send them the access codes to the repeater," Jason said. He figured Khepri would require they hand over control of the ship; most of the core planets did. It made sure a pilot unfamiliar with the approach or their unique rules wouldn't cause any holdups or mishaps. It also allowed the authorities to hold and detain ships as they pleased. But, like most smuggler ships, the Phoenix had the equipment to receive the commands and give the proper feedback responses giving the illusion the ground system was in control, but at any moment Jason could still fly the ship if they had to bugout or avoid the local authorities.

"Handshake is complete, the autopilot is now taking cues from the repeater," Doc said. "It looks like the ground system is satisfied that it's in control of the ship; we'll begin to deorbit within the next few hours."

"That box was oddly expensive for what it does, but still worth every credit," Jason said. In the early days they'd been detained twice and the ship searched by local authorities when it was suspected they'd been involved in narcotics trafficking and a sudden rash of deaths respectively. They'd been innocent of the former, but not the latter. After the second instance of having to argue with the authorities about the weaponry in the armory, not to mention the nature of the gunship itself, Jason had invested in the expensive modification to their flight control avionics.

"What do you think we'll find down there?" Doc asked.

"Only one person aboard knows right now, and he isn't saying," Jason said.

Their attitude began to change in accordance with the instructions coming from the surface, the Phoenix reorienting herself to decelerate and enter the atmosphere on a shallow trajectory over the largest ocean. He looked and saw they had been cleared all the way to Cenk Vale.

"Hopefully he at least clues us in by the time the government official that checks out our idents and questions the nature of our visit is standing at the bottom of the ramp." As he was saying this, Lucky walked onto the bridge.

"I have used the fabricator to produce the clothing you will need to wear once we are on the surface," he declared. "I will brief each of you on the role you will need to play to not attract attention."

"This should be interesting," Jason muttered as Lucky left without another word or waiting for an acknowledgement of his demands.

7

"Please state your purpose."

As predicted, a representative of the Kheprian government was waiting on the ground the instant the ramp lowered to the tarmac with a thud. Jason stepped up, feeling ridiculous in his new clothes, and presented the official with a data card Lucky had also provided. Then he looked around with the bored expression he was told to assume.

The pru gingerly took the card and pressed it up against the device he carried so it could be read. Lucky had told Jason he was being given the credentials of a mid-level representative that would typically be sent to Khepri as a precursor to a request for an official visit. When pressed as to why he was providing falsified idents instead of Kage, Lucky had replied that before he'd been released from the production facility, his Master had programmed into his auxiliary processor a full set of Kheprian high-level encryption algorithms that had allowed him to access the secure databases from orbit. From there it had been a simple matter to add the Phoenix's false registry and Jason's assumed identity.

"Thank you, Administrator Wuk," the official said respectfully and handed the card back. "Does your battlesynth escort work for the Ministry of Martial Affairs or is it a personal guard?"

"It is attached to House Teludal as personal security," Jason said in Jenovian Standard. "It was sent to ensure my safe passage."

"Very well." The official now looked bored as he finished processing their entry. "I'm sure it knows the restrictions in place for foreign visitors and its own kind … just be sure you follow its advice."

"Of course," Jason said. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You're sure about this?" Crusher asked from the top of the ramp once the official was gone. "Why can't some of us go as your staff?"

"Low-level administrators don't have staff," Jason said. "Lucky and I should be more than capable of handling any trouble we might run into. The point of this is to be unmemorable … a Galvetic warrior walking with a battlesynth leaves an impression."

"I think we should have another ground car on standby in case you run into something you can't handle," Crusher insisted.

"Agreed," Jason said after a moment of thought. "Kage, arrange for another vehicle."

Within minutes, a fully automated luxury ground car slid silently up to the ship on its low-power repulsor drive. Jason and Lucky climbed in and were whisked away, passing the second car as it made its way across the parking apron.

"So where are we going?" Jason asked, his patience with his friend's mysteriousness beginning to wear thin.

"We are going to meet with the one person I feel I can trust on Khepri," Lucky said. "The Master that ensured my free will once he learned what I would become."

"Lucky, that was centuries ago," Jason said. "He can't still be alive, can he?"

"He is," Lucky confirmed. "But he is rapidly approaching the end of his life. Pru are long-lived, but once advanced age sets in the decline is rapid. Before you ask, the Master is a man of some prominence in his field. I am able to track him through publicly available releases."

"Gotcha," Jason said.

The car ran along on an elevated roadway that skirted around the perimeter of Cenk Vale, affording Jason unrestricted views of the gleaming, towering buildings that made up the city center. It was spectacular. The only other modern city he'd seen that was more impressive was the concentrically built Avarian capital, a city that had been rebuilt all at once, allowing the designers to achieve a uniform look. Cenk Vale was obviously a city in constant transition as new buildings would supplant the older ones through the millennia. Jason shook his head and laughed, realizing that the city had been there since before humans had discovered fire and crawled out of their caves.

"We will be leaving the city center for the outlying estates soon," Lucky said. "I have not been needlessly secretive about this, Captain, but protecting the Master that risked so much to help me is paramount. Should it be discovered what he did it would no doubt result in action against him and his family, even after so many years."

"Yeah, you've been more annoying than usual with the lack of information," Jason said. "But I trust you. If you say there's a good reason then I'll take your word on that and hope you'll fill me in when you can."

As Lucky had said, the car soon edged off the main roadway and began to decelerate, aiming for one of the banked, curving ramps that led back down to the ground road system. Jason had read that on most of Khepri it was illegal to pilot a vehicle manually and that they'd abandoned air cars once traffic had increased to the point that the lines of vehicles crisscrossing the sky became an eyesore. Instead, they used ground, subterranean, and lifted roadways to shunt the massive volume of traffic around and through the cities.

The car dipped down off the platform and, after another half-kilometer, entered one of the tunnel entrances for a high-speed connector. It smoothly accelerated to over four hundred kilometers per hour and slid into the other traffic without issue. It was an impressive system that merged the efficiency and speed of mass transit with the convenience and privacy of a personal vehicle.

"How much further?" he asked.

"We will be exiting the rapid transit tube momentarily," Lucky said. "Once back on the surface it will be another twenty-eight minutes.

The time passed quickly and soon the car came to a stop before a nondescript gate set into a high stonework wall. As soon as the vehicle quit moving a holographic representation of a pru appeared on Lucky's side.

"How may I assist you?" it asked. Lucky opened the window and emitted a sound that made Jason jump from its harshness. It almost sounded like com static, but he realized the battlesynth must be transmitting an audible data stream. The hologram flickered a bit before straightening.

"Proceed," it said in a monotone voice, the polished demeanor dropped. The gate slid aside and the holograph disappeared before the car glided through and down the long, tree-lined drive.

"This is the retirement estate of the Master I spoke of," Lucky said. "His name is Krunt Teludal. My hope is that he is still connected to the Office of Synth Oversight enough that he may have heard rumors about what is happening on Khepri. Otherwise, we will likely have no success discovering what Mok wants us to find."

"Can't argue your logic," Jason said. "This is a hell of a longshot even by our standards."

The pair was met at the three-story building by another hologram, this one much more substantial-looking and able to physically manipulate objects. It opened the door and wordlessly motioned for them to enter. The house's exterior was angular and harsh, clashing with nature and not at all what Jason would have expected for a country estate on Khepri based on what he'd seen so far.

They continued on until meeting up with something that made Jason's heart skip a beat: another synth. He'd encountered more than a few of them in his time in space, but this one so closely resembled Deetz he had to do a double take to make certain it actually wasn't the homicidal psychopath they'd left as a pile of melted slag on Earth.

"If you will follow me," it said, its urbane manner and voice very different than that of the late Deetz. Jason could also see slight variations in the facial features and wondered if all synths were unique or if there were a select number of faces they rotated among them.

They were led through one wing of the house, up one flight of stairs, and into a large bedchamber. The room was an odd mix of furniture that was obviously extremely old and racks of advanced medical equipment, most of which had lines leading to the surprisingly small bed in the middle of the room.

A frail, withered pru sat propped up against a pile of pillows. His skin, a dull gray color, hung from his frame in folds. The eyes, however, were bright and alert and followed them as the synth escorted them in and then left, closing the door behind.

"Welcome home, Combat Unit 777," Teludal said in a clear, strong voice. "And welcome to you as well, Captain Jason Burke."

"Master," Lucky said respectfully, approaching the bed. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

"It's good to see you," Teludal said fondly. "My sources aren't as good as they once were, but I still hear things. Is it true you've taken a name? A real name?"

"It is. My friends call my Lucky."

"Amazing," Teludal smiled. "What an ambassador for your species you could have been had only things been different. So why have you risked coming back to Khepri, Lucky? I assume you've heard rumors about a recall of the others?"

"Captain?" Lucky said and stepped back, startling Jason.

"We've been approached by a third party that claims to have knowledge of a concerted effort to destabilize relationships within the ConFed," Jason said carefully, confused as to why Lucky had tossed it over to him. "Among the information were some rumors that there was a military buildup on Khepri that was unusual and might be related."

"Carefully worded, young Captain," Teludal said. "And do you have any idea why Khepri would be involved in the efforts to destabilize a system it benefits greatly from?"

"That's not within the scope of our mission," Jason said. "We were just asked to find any evidence of a—"

"Yes, yes," Teludal scoffed. "As I said: carefully worded. I don't have so long left in life that I wish to spend it in circular conversations, so I will tell you what I think is relevant.

"The signal was activated to recall all remaining battlesynths to Khepri. The number that returned is two hundred and eight, under half of the five hundred and three total created. What you need to know is that the recall was a response, not a provocation. There is a growing movement here to withdraw from the ConFed. There's always been one group or another advocating this, but the new push has happened very quickly and is very well-funded … enough that the ConFed Council is taking notice and is making threats."

"Why would the ConFed care about your internal political struggles?" Jason asked. "I know this is a Pillar World, but they've seemed content to let things simmer or burn out on their own in these cases."

"That I can't tell you," Teludal said, and Jason noticed a change in the pitch of his voice. "I'm fairly isolated out here and I'm unable to—" Whatever he was saying was drowned out as the door to the bedroom exploded inward in a cloud of splinters. There was no pressure wave or heat, so Jason knew that explosives hadn't been used, which left only one logical answer.

As expected, when he turned around he saw the synth that had led them into the room standing in the demolished door frame holding some sort of staff that glowed at one end, spitting sparks and hissing. It came in fast, leading with what was undoubtedly a weapon, swinging it side to side. Lucky fired his repulsors and arced up and over the attacking synth, tearing two light fixtures out of the high ceiling as he did. Jason grabbed a cart by the bed that looked like it had been used for food service and threw it as hard as he could at his attacker, hoping to distract it for a moment.

The synth hit the cart in midflight with its weapon and it blew apart from some unseen force emitted from the end of the staff. It smiled and grabbed a cart of its own and hurled it at Jason just as Lucky came down with a thud on the other side of the room, his eyes blazing red as he switched to full combat mode. Jason had instinctively ducked the thrown cart, loaded with medical equipment, and realized too late what was behind him: the immobile Krunt Teludal.

"Lucky, take it down!"

"I cannot risk—"

"That's right, puppet!" the other synth crowed. "One plasma blast in this room that's capable of destroying me and your flesh sacks over there will be vaporized."

Lucky didn't answer as he began to approach the other synth, his hands up slightly and his eyes tracking the weapon. With the attacker now completely ignoring Jason, correctly assuming he was unarmed, the human was able to move himself around into the synth's blind spot directly behind it. What it didn't know was that Jason wasn't some squishy, frail biological … his skeleton could take an enormous amount of punishment and his enhanced muscles could give a standard synth a nasty surprise. He had no delusions that he could defeat it hand-to-hand, but he could make sure it wasn't able to land a hit on Lucky with whatever the hell that weapon was.

Just as the synth drew back to strike at Lucky, Jason rushed in and slid, kicking the back of its left knee with enough force to send the leg out. Already off balance from preparing to strike, the synth instinctively dropped the heavy staff to try and maintain its balance. It was all the opening Lucky needed. He came in and, with a lightning-fast strike, crushed the right shoulder in so severely the arm now dangled uselessly and sent the synth crashing to the floor.

It let out a warbling cry, and when it landed near Jason it rolled and swung, managing a glancing blow across his forehead as he tried to climb to his feet. Lucky fired his repulsors and came down again, this time smashing the right knee by landing on it with all his weight and cracking the floor tiles. He grabbed the still flailing right arm even as a now-woozy Jason rolled away. He began to pull and with a slight whine of his actuators Lucky ripped the arm from the other synth in a burst of sparks. Jason was morbidly fascinated to see fluid spurt from the ruined shoulder socket, like blood.

"Keep him alive!" Jason said, shaking his head to clear it.

"Master!" Lucky ignored him. Jason looked over and saw that the cart the synth had thrown at him had landed on the bed and was still resting on Teludal's lower body.

"Stay there!" Jason rushed to the bed and as gently as he could lifted the cart up and off, tossing it to the far side of the room.

"It is not immediately fatal," Teludal said quietly, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. "Lucky, it will surely have an internal transmitter installed … you must not let it live."

"We need to question it," Jason objected.

"You can learn nothing from it," Teludal said. "Quickly now, while it's still focused on its injuries." Jason nodded to Lucky who then brought his deployed plasma cannon down inches from the synth's face and fired a sustained low-power burst that slowly burned into its skull and killed it.

"I'm guessing that guy wasn't in your house at your request?" Jason asked.

"No … it was assigned to the house by the Ministry of Martial Affairs," Teludal said. "I was aware from the beginning that its role was to spy on me and ensure certain things never came to light. They would have had me killed were it worth the risk. Instead they decided that my short time left would be spent in isolation. One of the access routines I gave Lucky when he was first brought online was able to bypass the perimeter security so it had no choice but to allow you entry."

"You require emergency medical attention," Lucky said. "We have a skilled doctor on our crew and the ship can be here in minutes, Master."

"There is no time for this sort of foolishness," Teludal said to Lucky. "You must get off this planet as quickly as you can. They know what I did to you and the others in your lot … if they find out you're here, they'll deploy the battlesynths they already have on Khepri to capture or destroy you."

"What is this all about?" Jason asked even as he could see Teludal fading.

"I only know a small piece of it, or at least believe that I do. It's always possible I've been deliberately fed false information." Teludal struggled to get the words out. "The people wanting to break away from the ConFed must have control over the battlesynths or the entire plan falls apart, but I don't know what the plan is."

"Do you know who would?" Jason asked.

"Vulban," the pru whispered before his head rolled to the side. Jason looked over at the monitor above the bed and saw Teludal was still very much alive, just unconscious.

"We need to get out of here," Jason said. "Do we risk taking the ground car or call the Phoenix for a pickup?" His friend didn't answer, just stood stock still and stared at the still form on the bed.

"Lucky!"

"I should not have waited so long to come back," the battlesynth said.

"You can't do anything for him right now," Jason said gently. "We need to get out of here. Getting caught up in a fight with multiple battlesynths won't help anybody … not to mention it's a fight we can't win."

"Of course, Captain." Lucky straightened. "We should take the ground car away from this estate and reevaluate our situation once we are some distance away. The Phoenix might not arrive before any response team the other synth may have called, and it will attract too much attention."

"Good." Jason gave his friend a shove. "Let's go, now!"

They ran from the room and back down to the first floor only to find that their rented vehicle had been dismantled. From the crushed panels and smoldering, burnt edges Jason assumed the synth had come down here with his weapon and worked their car over before coming back up to ensure Teludal kept his mouth shut.

"Take this in the spirit with which it's intended … but other than you I have to say I'm not all that fond of your species," he said as they stared at the smoking, useless machine.

"There is a building at the back of the property that has vehicles," Lucky said and set off across the lawn. Tucked back against the corner of the property and hidden from view of the main house was an older structure with three large doors in the front. The smaller entry door on the side was unlocked and whisked open when Jason touched the control pad. As Lucky had promised, there were three ground vehicles, covered in dust, and looking much more expensive than the one they'd left behind.

"Shit," Jason said. "He didn't have something a little less conspicuous? I didn't see anything that resembled these during the ride out."

"The far vehicle is a very rare and expensive luxury model, while the other two are high-performance types, one of which is no longer legal on Khepri," Lucky said. "All three are quite old as well. I do not think this will work."

"Neither do I," Jason agreed. "I was hoping for some cheap runaround like a cargo van that the house staff would have used." Before Lucky could suggest something else, Jason's com link chirped. "Go ahead," he answered, not using any names over the unsecure public network. Cenk Vale's local ordinance prohibited using the com link in a direct, high-power mode.

"Are you going to be delayed much longer?" Kage asked. "There's been some word that Ground Control Authority is locking down the starports and checking recent inbound flights. If you want to make our delivery deadline I hope you're already almost back."

"Damnit!" Jason swore before keying the unit. "Better go ahead and at least get into orbit. We've been delayed with the supplier and won't make it back to you in time. We'll meet up with you at the next stop."

"Acknowledged."

"Do you and Kage have a prearranged rendezvous location?" Lucky asked.

"Sure don't," Jason said. "But I somehow doubt that the lockdown and our fight with that synth are unrelated."

"Then you know that the authorities are likely inbound to this location."

"It's not them I'm worried about," Jason said. "We've done nothing illegal, I don't think. I'm worried about whoever left that synth showing up with more muscle than we can easily handle."

"I had not considered that," Lucky admitted. "It might not have been prudent for you to come unarmed."

"I didn't think it was smart to walk around a core planet prepped for battle when all we were doing was coming to talk to someone," Jason shot back. "But … at least this might mean we're on the right track for something. Whether it has anything to do with the ConFed or insurrections I have no idea."

They searched the outbuilding for anything that could be used as a weapon, but all they could find were tools and equipment used to maintain a fleet of antique ground cars. Either Teludal was completely straight-laced or all the weapons were back in the house they’d just fled.

"Maybe we should've searched the house first," Jason said.

"I can assure you that the Master would not have—" Lucky stopped talking and turned his head back towards where the front of the house would be, holding up a hand to silence the question he knew was coming. Jason waited patiently, well-aware of how much better Lucky's senses were than his own, and tried not to make any extraneous noise. Minutes later he could just make out the roar of rushing air as some type of aircraft—actually, it sounded like more than one—circled overhead and began to descend. Lucky approached the still-open entry door and risked a quick peek out before pulling his head back inside.

"Two unmarked aircraft," he said quietly. "Armed pru coming from both and rushing into the house. Local law enforcement would not have arrived in such shuttles."

"So it's the people who were basically holding your creator prisoner in his own home until he—" Jason stopped himself from saying “died” as Lucky's head swung sharply to him. "Anyway, is it only pru on the assault team? No battlesynths?"

"I did not see any," Lucky said. "If they were on those aircraft I would assume that they would lead the charge."

"Same here," Jason said. "So … now what? It's only a matter of time before they search the property and find us."

"I propose a diversion," Lucky said, looking back to the third, larger vehicle in the garage.

8

"So where are we supposed to meet them?" Crusher asked. This was the ninth variation of the same question he'd been asking since the Phoenix had lifted off and was directed back into a transfer orbit by the ground control system.

"We didn't have a prearranged plan," Doc explained again from the pilot's seat. "As I said before, and the eight times before that … we're going to stall as long as we can without being suspicious and see if the captain or Lucky makes contact.”

"Not much of a plan," Crusher grumbled. "It seems we should have had something in place for a contingency like this."

"That would have been helpful twelve hours ago before they left, wouldn't it?" Doc asked. "Is there something else you can be doing besides wearing a hole in the deck plating?"

"We're not going to be able to keep deferring requests forever," Kage said once Crusher had stomped off the bridge. "Eventually they're going to force us up into a departure orbit and then we won't be able to hang out over the planet."

"Can we fake a maintenance issue?"

"That might make them recall us back to the surface for a convenient search." Kage shook his head. "I sliced into the local short-range com network before we left; the lockdown order came from a government office at something called the Emergency Defense Authority that's within the Ministry of Martial Affairs, but it wasn’t associated with a specific threat or law enforcement action. They were simply told to hold all new arrivals in the Cenk Vale local area and search for anything suspicious."

"So something the captain did triggered the lockdown, but it didn't come through local law enforcement," Doc said.

"Exactly. I could try to dig further, but the AIs that control the higher-level data routing functions are … impressive," Kage admitted. "Making an attempt with a remote, low-bandwidth connection would be a foolish risk. I brushed up against one while trying to trace the origin of the lockdown order and I can say unequivocally I've never seen anything like it. It's easily the most advanced non-sentient system I've ever encountered and all it's doing is routing com data."

"This is the planet that created the synth species," Doc said. "It stands to reason that they'd have—"

"They'd have what?" Kage asked when Doc trailed off and stared into space for a moment.

"Nothing," Doc shook his head. "Can I configure one of these screens as a normal terminal?"

"Right multi-function display is a full-fledged terminal as well," Kage said. "Is there something you need that I can find? I'm not really doing a whole lot over here."

"Just a random thought I'd like to check on," Doc said. "Probably won't amount to anything."

"Don't get too distracted," Kage warned. "You are the pilot of an unlicensed warship flying in a crowded orbital lane."

"READY?" Jason asked.

"Ready," Lucky confirmed. "Open the door."

Jason hit the control to open the middle bay just as Lucky closed the door to the second vehicle. Once the door had recessed completely into the floor the old ground car rose shakily on its repulsors and slid out of the garage. When it was clear it shot away with surprising quickness, so much so that the front gate was barely able to open in time once it detected the car coming at it.

The vehicle made the ninety-degree turn to the right and disappeared from view, but they could still hear the antique repulsors humming as it raced along the street. There were some confused shouts as members of the assault team asked who was in the car and if they could still see it. The indecision didn't last long, and Jason couldn't help but be impressed with their leadership. Since they'd already cleared the house, they began loading up into the aircraft to mount a pursuit. It was exactly the reaction he'd hoped for.

"Fire two!" Jason said and hit the controls to the third bay that housed the big, heavy luxury vehicle. It too sputtered to life and, unlike the sportier model that waited to clear the building before increasing power, it roared off out of the garage so fast that its repulsor drive sent Jason flying back into a shelving unit.

They watched from the door as the vehicle veered wildly over the lawn before tracking right for the lead aircraft. Shots from plasma rifles began to sporadically pepper the ground and the oncoming car as more shouts of alarm could be heard. The black vehicle slammed into the first aircraft just as it began to lift off the ground which, in turn, pushed it directly into the second that was still sitting on its landing gear. Jason lost track of individual machines as an enormous fireball erupted from the crash courtesy of the chemicals they'd loaded into the rear seats and trunk.

Once the smoke cleared he could see both aircraft were too damaged to fly and only two of the assault team appeared to be moving. Unfortunately, the conflagration had been too close to the house and it too was now burning.

"I'LL TAKE care of our friends, you go get Teludal," Jason said and took off at a sprint. Lucky, in a rare display of what he was fully capable of, fired his repulsors and arced off across the property like a missile, smashing through a window on the second floor.

"I always forget he can do that."

The first live pru Jason encountered was badly burned and in no shape to put up much of a fight. He pulled the weapon off the injured soldier, gagging a bit as some of the burnt skin came with it, and smacked the base of the handle into its head with enough force to knock it completely out. The weapons didn't have a butt stock or a trigger for his forefinger, just a handle at the end with a thumb stud to press. He'd seen the configuration before; press it up for single shot, down for sustained burst. Simple, but awkward and uncomfortable.

"Who are you with?" Jason shoved the muzzle into the face of the second survivor and spoke in Jenovian Standard.

"I'd like to know the same from you," the wounded pru said, dark red blood streaming from its nose and mouth. "Who sent you to help Teludal?"

"I asked first," Jason said, stepping on the broken leg and eliciting a harsh hiss. "Last chance."

"You'll never make it off Khepri so it doesn't matter what that old fool told you," the soldier said. Jason frowned at the odd reaction from someone that was essentially a foot soldier, was mortally wounded, and only had a few minutes to live. He used the muzzle of the weapon to turn the head left, and then right. There it was. He reached down and plucked the earpiece out and held it up to his own ear just in time to hear someone speaking in Pru'gal, their native language. The voice was instructing the soldier to try and keep Jason talking and maneuver so that he could be seen in the optical pickup he was wearing on his uniform.

"Tricky," Jason said. He looked down and saw the telltale red reflection of a multispectral imager no more than five millimeters in diameter. He aimed and fired, the pru coughing out one last explosive breath at the impact before he died. Jason crushed the com link earpiece in his hand and tossed the remains into the fire.

"I have moved the Master to another outbuilding and alerted the authorities," Lucky said. Jason hadn't even heard him approach. "He is gravely injured, but he will likely survive long enough to receive emergency care. How long he will live past that I do not know. I suspect his condition is not the result of a natural illness, but he will not say."

"It'd probably be a good idea to not be here when the first responders arrive," Jason said. "Too bad we destroyed both aircraft." He looked around and sighed dramatically. "Sometimes I forget just how good we are at this."

"I would have to disagree with your assessment of this mission, all things considered."

"Let's take that third ground car and get the hell out of here," Jason said. "Hopefully whoever sent the goon squad here will feel a bit of pressure when the authorities begin trying to trace where they came from."

"THAT'S IT," Kage said. "We can't hold them off any longer. They're forcing us to a departure orbit so you either have to go along or tip our hand and fly the ship back down to the surface."

"We don't even know where they are," Doc said. "We'll have to trust that they can figure out a way off the planet or a way to contact us with their location. Go ahead and accept the course change."

"Since you're technically the acting captain I'll let you tell Crusher we're leaving without them," Kage said.

Doc glared at the flighty code slicer even as the Phoenix's main drive throttled up and they began to climb away from Khepri. As Kage had warned, before the gunship had even settled into her new orbit they were given a vector to clear the area. If they tried to circle back around and slide into orbit, the automated system would almost certainly flag them.

"There's a moon orbiting the fifth planet that we can park over for now," Kage said after checking the local navigation data. "It's owned by a private asteroid mining operation and they allow unrestricted access to the moon's orbital lanes, but we can't land. Wouldn't want to anyway, the atmosphere is mostly ammonia gas. It's also still well within range of any local com station they might get a hold of to try and contact us."

"Good work," Doc said. "Plug it in and let's get out from under the ground control station as soon as we can."

Within half an hour the Phoenix angled sharply away from Khepri and accelerated hard for the small moon orbiting a Class II gas giant. They would be within an hour's flight if they got word from the ground team and had to execute an emergency extraction, but if it was actually an emergency an hour might be far too long.

"WE WILL NEED to abandon this vehicle soon," Lucky said.

"Agreed," Jason said. "We're getting a lot of looks right now. Where did the other one go by the way?"

"I programmed it on a circuitous route that will take it back to the Master's estate within the next three hours," Lucky said. "It is still technically his property so I did not want to needlessly waste it."

"Slick move with the limo hitting those aircraft," Jason said, leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment. "I didn't think it would let you do that."

"It required that I erase all of its navigational data and simply enter point to point coordinates and velocity changes," Lucky said self-deprecatingly. "Not an especially difficult task on such an old control system."

"There!" Jason said, pointing to a large building just before a cluster of high-speed access tube entry points. "Drop me off here and then circle back to that side road and wait. I'll grab us a new ride and then come back to pick you up."

Lucky commanded the vehicle to the side of the road and let Jason out. After being careful with the door to make sure nobody got a clear view of a battlesynth sitting in the vehicle, he walked back to mingle near a public information center. He waited fifteen minutes after the eye-catching vintage vehicle had left before walking up to the large building that was advertising fairly priced basic transportation.

Since he and Lucky weren't fugitives from any official law enforcement agencies he walked in with confidence, looking around inside the building as a few pru milled around, looking over different models of ground cars. He almost laughed aloud at how the scene was different, yet the same. It could just as easily have been an Earth car dealership.

"How may I help you, friend?" a well-dressed pru asked in flawless, unaccented Jenovian Standard.

"I wish to purchase a mid-level vehicle," Jason said. "Five-passenger capacity and access to local information and communication networks."

In the end, he negotiated for a six-passenger model that was a little more luxurious than he would have liked given that he was paying cash out of one of his personal accounts. He handed over a loaded chit that had more than enough ConFed credits on it to pay for the car and waited while the transaction was finalized. He intentionally stayed away from the cheap, stripped-down, two-passenger basic models because anybody looking for them would likely come asking if anyone had purchased such a vehicle. At least, his hope was that they were that sloppy. Paying with ConFed credits as an alien on Khepri wouldn't make him especially memorable in the minds of the sales staff. His only worry was that they weren't all that far from Teludal's estate and it wasn't a very busy town.

Within two hours a beaming salesperson indicated that his vehicle was on its way. Unlike on Earth, there were no vehicles kept in inventory. After Jason selected his options and paid, a regional automated factory went to work. It pulled the appropriate chassis, drive, body, and interior options and assembled the car within the span of minutes. It was then loaded into a cargo shuttle and whisked to the particular office that placed the order. It was all very quick and efficient. Soon Jason waved one last time and directed the car to head back the way he'd come.

As expected, Lucky had carefully stashed their borrowed vehicle in the undergrowth and stepped out just enough so Jason could see him. He quickly climbed into the new vehicle and the two set off towards a high-speed tube that would take them in the opposite direction of Cenk Vale.

"I think we need to assume the Phoenix was forced to depart Khepri altogether," Jason said. "We need to try and avoid using the intrasystem public networks and see if there's a slip-com node so we can get in touch with them."

"I concur," Lucky said as he tore up the floor covering to get at the access panel in order to disable the dozens of transponders and beacons that allowed the vehicle to be easily tracked. He disabled them by smashing them with the palm of his hand.

"Hey! I just bought this damn thing! You couldn't find a less destructive way to take care of that?"

"The additional challenge we face is that it might be unwise for me to appear in public given the circumstances," Lucky said, ignoring him. "If you were pru, and in a military uniform, it might go unnoticed, but a battlesynth with an alien civilian will not."

"Even once we're away from the capital?" Jason drummed his fingers on the armrests as he thought. "This could pose an issue. It's entirely possible that we'll have to try and book commercial passage somewhere to meet the Phoenix. But, first things first … let's get to a com node and let them at least know that we've evaded capture or death. So far."

"WE'VE JUST HAD a ping from one of our slip-com nodes back on S'Tora," Kage told Doc as he walked onto the bridge. "It's the captain and Lucky. I sent you the entire message … top left icon on your MFD. They're still on Khepri, but they haven't been identified to their knowledge and are moving down towards a place called Amasis. It's an industrial city south of Cenk Vale with a small population and regular flights outbound from the planet."

"How are we supposed to get in touch with them?" Doc asked, opening the message on his multi-function display.

"He said they'd check the message buffer on the com node again in two days’ local time when they reached Amasis," Kage said. "They bought a ground car and are making the entire trip using a combination of tubes and roadways to keep from being easily identified."

"This might work," Doc said and tapped the screen where the message was displayed. "I'll need you to pull up all the freight carriers coming from Amasis that service any of the mining platforms out here."

"Freighter flights?"

"Inconspicuous is the name of the game, as Jason would say," Doc said. "We need to eliminate all of our more obvious options. The time delay of an overland trip will actually work to our advantage too."

"If you say so," Kage shrugged.

9

"Please be careful with that!" Jason shouted at the two pru handlers that were roughly shoving his cargo onto a motorized cart.

"It doesn't say that it's fragile on the bill," one said belligerently.

"Just load the damn crate," Jason said.

Once it was tied down to the cart he pulled the remote from the handle and hit the “FOLLOW” button before pocketing it and walking off. He turned once to make sure the cart was following after the remote and made his way down out of the receiving docks to an information screen.

The board of incoming and outbound traffic was immense and confusing, but he finally saw that there was a ship named Kellea's Mistake in one of the lower-level hangars. He gritted his teeth from the joke at his expense and walked off to try and find a cargo lift that would take him down the hangar decks.

After some trial and error, he finally stumbled upon Crusher leaning against one of the station's structural spars. The big warrior saw him from a distance and, without acknowledging him, turned and walked through a large unmarked hatchway. Jason followed with his cart and let out an explosive sigh of relief as the Phoenix came into sight, sitting serenely in the hangar with her ramp down.

Jason led the cart up into the cargo bay, gently inclined it until the crate was standing upright, and then tossed the remote like a skipping stone from where he stood in the cargo bay. The cart spun about and cheerfully chased it down the ramp and back into the hangar. He smacked the two large push buttons on the pedestal to close the ramp and pressure doors and then keyed the intercom.

"Let's get the hell out of here, Doc. Let me know when we're clear of the station and moving."

"Calling for clearance now," Kage's voice came back.

"Go ahead and come out, Lucky," Jason called loudly. "I don't think anybody is going to try and apprehend us if they haven't by now."

There were two sharp cracks as Lucky kicked the sealed lid of the crate across the cargo bay and snapped all the tie downs that had been holding him suspended in the crate.

"That was a most unpleasant reminder of where I was when you found me," he said.

"I apologize again, buddy," Jason said with genuine sympathy. "I just couldn't think of a better way to get you onto that flight without being seen or taking too great a risk."

"If I did not agree with your reasoning I would not have willingly climbed into the container," Lucky said. "It was unpleasant nonetheless."

By the time Jason got to the bridge, they were clearing the electrostatic atmosphere barrier of the hangar and moving slowly away from the platform. He waved for Doc to stay seated and keep flying as his friend tried to stand up and vacate the pilot's seat. The station wasn't nearly as strict about traffic as the planet and there were freighters, tenders, maintenance bots, and a few passenger ships flying about at seemingly random vectors. It certainly wasn't the time to try and swap out pilots while the gunship was moving out into the thick of it.

Instead, he walked up to the front of the bridge and looked out through the Phoenix's huge, curved canopy. It wasn't often when flying in space that they were ever close enough to anything to see it with the naked eye, so he enjoyed the view of the ships coming and going against the backdrop of the gas giant while he could.

"Kage, get us out of this system, minimal slip-space speed. We need to have a family meeting about all that's happened and I'd rather be well out of reach of the people who came and attacked Teludal's house."

"I already figured that's what we'd be doing … or that we'd be running for our lives," Kage said. "Course is locked in and the drive is ready. Doc, you're good to engage whenever the station's traffic control system says we've cleared their space."

Four hours after leaving the station the Phoenix meshed-out, just another tiny slip-space signature among the hundreds coming and going from the busy core system.

"SO THAT'S where we are," Jason said after he and Lucky relayed everything that had happened to them once they departed the Phoenix on Khepri. He had intentionally let Lucky tell certain parts of the story to allow his friend to choose how much he wanted divulged about his origins and relationship with Krunt Teludal. "To be honest, it leaves us with more questions than answers. We were likely chasing the wrong tail."

"Perhaps not, Captain," Doc spoke up. "While we were sitting in orbit Kage mentioned that all the automated traffic control systems were controlled by an uncommonly powerful AI system. At the time it made sense to me, as advanced AIs are a major export of Khepri … they did develop a fully sentient species after all."

"What the hell is your point?" Crusher demanded loudly. He'd been getting increasingly vocal about his boredom of Jason and Lucky's adventures and was now bordering on hostile. Jason suspected it was because there had been a good amount of destruction and even a fight between synths while he'd been sitting in orbit on the ship.

"My point is that it got me thinking about what could possibly be of such importance on Khepri that it would make it a likely target to destabilize the ConFed," Doc continued, unruffled by yet another outburst.

"As it turns out, Kheprian scientists were commissioned many, many centuries back to provide a single, overarching AI system to manage the complexities of a galactic economy that spans across thousands of worlds, all which have their own currencies, banking systems, and tax codes."

"That system can't still be in place, can it?" Jason asked. "It'd be woefully obsolete."

"It's an evolving, adaptive AI that's capable of being upgraded to the point that all of the original components are likely long gone," Doc said. "But here's the part I found with a little digging. Khepri wasn't just responsible for developing that AI … they still manage and control it." He'd made the announcement with the dramatic flair of someone dropping a bombshell, but it just wasn't his crowd. Only one person seemed to grasp the significance.

"So you're saying the very essence of the entire ConFed banking system is controlled by a single AI on Khepri?" Kage was incredulous. "I was always under the assumption it's was accomplished through distributed processing … it'd be the only way to safeguard from an attack: You can't slice into them all simultaneously so if you get into one the others lock it out and you get nothing."

"I can't say where your misconception comes from, but the central AI is supposed to be impossible to slice," Doc said. "I found it through an obscure local search of articles on the Khepri Nexus. There was an academic paper making the assertion that the AI system should be replaced with something like you described due to the risks associated with trying to keep an adaptive, learning system from collapsing after a certain level of development was reached."

"Boring!" Crusher said. "Screw this. Let me know when we have something interesting to do."

"Let him go." Jason waved him off as he stomped off towards the armory. "Okay, so let's operate under the supposition that the central banking system could be the target … I can't imagine it's something they leave lightly guarded."

"Not at all," Doc agreed. "It's one of the most impenetrable facilities on the planet, and since we're talking about Khepri it could be considered one of the most secured locations in the quadrant."

"So Khepri's intelligence service gets a credible threat to the thing they're tasked with guarding above all others, and they recall the remaining battlesynths for protection," Kage said. "It makes sense on the surface. Lucky's brethren would be a hell of a last line of defense. The facility is no doubt hardened against orbital bombardment so if you want in you're going to have to eventually send troops to try and take it."

"I feel like we're missing something though," Jason said. "Everything you said stands up to the smell test, but if the threat was so credible that they enacted an emergency recall of battlesynths shouldn't they know enough for the ConFed to make a preemptive strike? It's one of their favorite things to do, after all."

"Who says they haven't?" Twingo piped up for the first time since they'd all assembled. "ConFed Intel Section has some powerful ships at their disposal, not to mention a whole host of nasty spec ops units."

"They'd have wanted to make an example," Jason insisted. "They'd have sent a full battlegroup to completely annihilate whomever the target was as a message to everyone else: Play your games with each other, but screw with us and we'll end you. And if that had happened, or was about to happen, we'd have heard about it."

"Maybe." Twingo sounded unconvinced. "What if it's an inside job or another Pillar World making a move?"

"Why the hell would a planet that benefits from the current system try to bring it down?" Kage asked. "That's stupid … you're stupid."

"One more time and—"

"I think we can safely say it isn't another government making a move," Jason said loudly and placed a hand on Kage's shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make him suck in his breath. "No single planet is idiotic enough to do this and any of the other co-ops or enclaves wouldn't be able to keep their involvement out of it. There's also the fact that Saditava Mok has somehow gotten an inside track on this."

"Again … why would a criminal organization want to kill the thing that keeps them in business?" Kage asked. "The ConFed's centralized monetary system means that we can go anywhere if the heat gets too bad, set up shop, and be back in business without a hitch."

"Don't you mean they can go anywhere?" Doc asked.

"Yeah … that's what I said," Kage waved him off with his two right hands. "We still haven't come up with a good reason why someone would want the quadrant plunged into chaos and who would have the means with which to do it."

"The Avarians?" Doc asked. "They're the only major power close enough to care if the ConFed exists or doesn't. Could you ask your princess?"

"Annada isn't going to know anything, and if she did have knowledge about a plot to bring down a neighboring superpower I doubt she'd just tell me because I asked," Jason said. Annada was not actually a princess though the term fit as well as any other. She was the daughter of the elected head of the Avarian Empire, a semi-xenophobic group that controlled over six hundred planets on the other side of what deep space haulers called the Delphine Expanse. When and if the Sovereign died, stepped down, or became unable to lead, the Avarian legislature had the option to ascend Annada to Sovereign without calling for a vote among the member planets. It became a bit convoluted after that, but the thrust of it was that she wasn't guaranteed the top job by birthright. If the legislature deemed her unfit they could block her from assuming office.

"You think Mok knows anything else he failed to tell us?" Kage asked.

"I guarantee he does," Jason said. "But short of assaulting his home and torturing him, I don't see a way of getting to that information if he doesn't want to spill it."

"So what do we do in the meantime? We didn't exactly get the answers we were looking for on Khepri," Doc said.

"For now, nothing," Jason said. "We'll come at this fresh tomorrow and try again. After that, if we're still just as clueless we'll call Mok and tell him what we found out and head out to find a better job."

They all finished eating and the conversation turned away from their current job as they speculated about where the action might be since they'd been out of commission for a bit. Crusher came back and then dinner led into an after-dinner beer, then two, and then it got completely out of hand. Before heading back to his quarters, Jason remembered seeing Lucky quietly detach himself and head up to the command deck; he assumed it was to take the bridge watch since nobody had bothered asking whose turn it was before the party started.

10

"Captain, I think we might have a new lead."

"A lead to what?" Jason asked groggily. "What the hell time is it?"

"2420 ship’s time," Lucky said. The Phoenix ran on a twenty-five-hour day as a compromise for their different physiological needs and differing circadian rhythms.

"Good night," Jason said, rolling over and away from the open door.

"This might be important," Lucky insisted.

"And it can't wait?" Jason asked.

"It can."

"Fine, I'm up," Jason huffed and sat up, instantly regretting it as his head felt like it was going to split. "What've you got?"

"Remember the name the Master gave us? Vulban?" Lucky asked.

"Vaguely," Jason said. "Was that a name or a place?"

"I believe he was referring to Noyut Vulban, one of the lead researchers at the facility where we were created," Lucky said. "He was very young when I left so he would only be nearing middle age now."

"I can already tell from how excited you are … you've tracked him down," Jason sighed. "Where are we heading?"

"Pinnacle Station."

"Fine, go ahead and change course but maintain our current speed." Jason rolled back over and pulled the covers up over his head.

"I already have," Lucky replied.

"Fabulous," was the muffled response. "Now go away."

PINNACLE STATION always caused mixed feelings in Jason. It had been his first real exposure to the wide galactic community after leaving Earth … if he discounted a brief stop on a remote slum called Breaker's World. It was a self-supporting structure that trailed along behind a small, uninhabitable rocky planet in a heliocentric orbit and was massive on a scale that still blew Jason's mind even after so many years travelling between the stars. It was hundreds of years old and had been repurposed so many times that the original structure was buried deep under layers and layers of additions and modifications.

Currently Pinnacle served as a major logistics hub for both freight and passengers travelling through the Tycho Corridor as well as a convenient meeting and layover point for those involved in less-than-legal endeavors. It was that last bit that still gave Jason no small amount of anxiety when he saw the spindly, ungainly structure begin to take shape on the sensors. At one point all of Omega Force had been prisoner there, only two of them not drugged into a coma and strapped into stasis pods. He still vividly remembered how weak and naive he'd been, unable to do anything to save himself. It wasn't a pleasant memory.

"We have a Cridal Cooperative starship holding positon off the station," Doc said. "It's not the Defiant … it's one of Seeladas's Fend-class destroyers, but not one of the ships that came to Earth's defense."

"I would assume she could afford more than a handful of them," Jason said. A few years prior, when Earth had been under threat from a little-known alien species and a human collaborator, he had desperately reached out to anyone that had the means to offer any sort of defense. Seeladas Dalton, the First Daughter of Crisstof Dalton, had come, eliminated the threat, and had taken Earth under her wing as a probationary member of her upcoming alliance. Much more ambitious than her father, Seeladas had split off Crisstof's massive financial empire and reformed it into a sovereign power. He still didn't know what the end result would be, but he felt reasonably comfortable Earth was in better hands with her than the attackers. The Ull would have used humanity as a labor caste even if humanity itself wasn't fully aware of it.

"We're getting a new transponder too," Kage said. "We haven't seen one of these before."

"What is it?" Twingo asked.

"It's … it's human." Kage's shock was obvious. "No class listed, she's registered as the USS Endurance."

"Look at the power readings on that ship!" Twingo said as they all focused on the Earth ship. "That's no fusion-powered barge, they've got antimatter reactors on that thing!"

"That ship is generations ahead of the ships we left over Earth," Doc said suspiciously. "From the sensor readings it looks like your homeworld has ships that would be considered more advanced than most in the quadrant. Am I the only one here who finds that almost unbelievable?"

"Don't look at me," Jason protested when they all turned to look at him. "I've been with you guys this entire time."

"I can't believe that the Cridal Cooperative would just hand over starships more powerful than most of their own," Doc pressed.

"I don't know what to tell you, Doc," Jason pushed back. "Obviously they were able to negotiate with someone to provide them with state of the art hardware. Can we tell what they're doing out here?"

"Looks like they're shadowing that Fend-class destroyer," Kage said.

"Must be sort of a mentoring program Earth agreed to with whatever deal they reached with Seeladas," Jason mused. "Interesting."

"Are you going to say hello?" Kage asked.

"Nope," Jason said. "I was technically declared a fugitive, remember? Chances are good whoever is commanding that ship isn't aware of what really happened, and either way, they've got their job to do and I have mine. Fly the approach as normal."

He ignored the strange looks from his crew and concentrated on watching all the traffic flying around the station. During the approach, his eyes were drawn to the lower level hangars, wondering which one Deetz had flown them into the first time he'd been there. It was then that he had come face to face with the criminal kingpin, Bondrass, and realized that he'd not be just flying back home to Colorado.

They'd already paid for one of the mid-level docking arms to anchor the Phoenix at during their stay. It was the least conspicuous option since full-hangar berths were much more subject to security inspections and upper-level docks were pricey and used for VIPs. As usual, they would want to be on and off the station without anybody recognizing them or taking special interest in what they were doing.

"We're clear all the way to the arm," Kage said. "Fly-to instructions coming from the station's Traffic Control System."

"Check it and then feed it to the autopilot," Jason said.

The Phoenix quickly caught the station as it chased the planet around the primary star at around thirty-seven kilometers per second. Despite that being almost eighty-three thousand miles per hour, everything was relative in space. Pinnacle seemed stationary as the Phoenix decelerated and began to rotate to port to orient herself with their assigned docking arm. The process was drawn out and boring as they were put in hold patterns twice to make way for a higher-paying patron's ship to move clear of the area first.

After a few more delays, the gunship finally bumped up against the extended docking collar and the mooring clamps were engaged. By this time, Jason and Kage were alone on the bridge as everyone else had long since lost interest in the procedure. Kage made sure the airlock settings were all correct before locking out his own station and leaving. Jason took one last look on the sensors at the human ship trailing along behind the larger destroyer before securing all the primary flight systems and initializing the Phoenix's security protocols.

Even knowing exactly where the information came from to build that cruiser—hell, he even recognized the hull design—he was as surprised as his friends at how quickly it had been built, tested, and deployed. Whomever Seeladas had assigned to watch Earth and her fledgling colony world must have put them in touch with one of the bigger commercial shipyards. He'd barely been gone a few years and with humanity's known manufacturing capability they should barely have a sealed hull by now. Maybe he'd try to wheedle some answers from Russ Johnson or Marcus Webb the next time he was in touch with them.

"WHERE DO WE GO FIRST, Lucky?" Jason asked. He'd changed into the casual, generic clothes of a starliner passenger that were loose enough to conceal the discreet weaponry he was bringing with him.

"Engineering Sublevel Forty-four," Lucky said. "From what I was able to determine, it is likely that Vulban works there."

"Forty-four is where the powerplant and propulsion management systems are located," Twingo said. "We won't be able to just walk in there. Couldn't you figure out where he lives? The dormitories are up just below the main promenade."

"I have been unable to discover what alias Vulban might be using," Lucky admitted. "The fact he was on this station was from an obscure, anonymous message I found in the Master's com buffer along with the fact he whispered the name with what he thought was his dying breath."

"IT SOUNDS like you might have let your enthusiasm run away with you," Crusher said without the usual biting sarcasm he reserved for the others.

"He is here," Lucky insisted. "It is also logical that given his background he would be employed working on the complex adaptive AI systems that manage Pinnacle Station's flight profile."

"We still can't go down to the main engineering levels," Jason said, tapping his foot. "And we don't know what name he might be using or what he might look like."

"Sounds promising," Kage said, rolling his eyes.

"But we do have one bit of information: We know his species," Jason went on. "So from a purely physiological standpoint Doc should be able to figure out a good number of the places he might go when he's not at work."

"True," Doc nodded. "In fact there are likely entire sections of the habitat levels we can rule out. After that, I can probably narrow it down a bit more based on what average pru dietary preferences are."

"Good," Jason said sharply and clapped his hands. "Doc, you stay here and get started. The rest of us will split into two teams and start floating through the mid-level galleries and see if there's anything obvious. Everyone link your com units into the local station network and be aware of what you're saying over the channel. If we run encryption all we'll accomplish is gaining the attention of security."

They left the ship and walked the four kilometers through the dizzying number of docking tubes until they reached the main body of the station. Each carried a set of "clean" idents and travel credentials so they passed through the main security checkpoint without incident.

"It's nice now that your people are becoming a little more common out here," Jason said to Crusher. "You hardly get a second look anymore."

"I'm not sure how much I like that," Crusher admitted. "So, fearless leader … how shall we divide and conquer?"

"Lucky and I will go to the right, you three to the left," Jason said. "To be honest, we're sort of wasting time until Doc comes up with something actionable so I'd take it as a personal favor if you stay out of trouble. Please don't try to interrogate any random pru you happen to see."

"We've done this before," Crusher said.

"Yes … hence my warning and pleading," Jason shot back. "Just stay alert, and sober, and report back to Doc anything you see that looks interesting and he'll forward it on to us."

They split up amidst indignant protests and grumbling about wastes of time and went their separate ways. Jason knew the way he'd chosen had a particular gallery along it that had quiet tea shops, booths that traded in the latest literature from all over the quadrant, and a host of clean, comfortable eateries. In other words, some things an intellectual pru well into advanced age might find entertaining.

"Thank you, Captain," Lucky said as they walked. "Your faith in me does not go unnoticed."

"You've always got the benefit of the doubt with me," Jason said, waving him off. "If you think this is a solid enough lead, we'll check it out. We've gone a lot further on a lot thinner evidence before."

"I believe I am right," Lucky insisted. "I suppose it would be what you have described as a leap of faith."

"I'm more comfortable with the term 'intuition,"" Jason laughed. "It makes us seem more like we know what we're doing."

After two hours of walking, Jason was beginning to have doubts they'd ever find anything worthwhile. It wasn't that he still didn't think Lucky's instincts were correct, it was just that the station was so damn big and they had no idea what the person they were seeking looked like now. Lucky had the vaguest recollection of him from over two centuries prior, but pru were long-lived, not immortal. Vulban would have been reaching an advanced age and the changes were sometimes dramatic.

"Doc must have something," Jason said, showing Lucky his com link that was still buzzing. "Go."

"Okay … I might have tracked Vulban down," Doc's voice came through the speaker. "I'll admit, this isn't optimal for our needs."

11

"Well … shit."

The five of them had converged on the location Doc had provided, thirteen decks down and off a dimly lit corridor. They all stood staring at the plaque in front of them, one of hundreds of identical markers that lined the octagonal chamber.

"'Noyut Vulban, born on the planet Khepri, died on Pinnacle Station in 4731 local,'" Twingo read from the plaque while tapping furiously on his com link. "That means he bit it forty-three years ago."

"So this has been a dead end for some time," Jason said. "Why would Teludal want us to find him? He would surely know that he'd been dead for so long."

"You're still putting a lot of credence in the last gasping words of a dying man, Captain," Doc said over the open channel. "It could have been nothing more than a random memory floating to the surface or something he wished to atone for. It's impossible to say."

"I do not think we should linger here in a group this large," Lucky said, turning abruptly and walking out.

"I don't think this is going well for him," Crusher said, holding Jason back as the others filed out. "I understand what you're doing, but maybe it isn't all that helpful allowing him to chase ghosts like this."

"I hear what you're saying, but I'll fly around in circles chasing ghosts if it's something he feels he needs to do," Jason said. "He's given so much for each of us and never asks for anything for himself … until now." Crusher's eyes fell and he nodded, looking a bit shamefaced.

While Jason walked back to the ship alone he thought about what Crusher said. He agreed that it probably wasn't healthy to allow Lucky to build an obsession over something so amorphous based solely on the fact his homeworld and creators might be involved. But on the other hand, he had no proof to offer his friend as to why he should let it go. They'd been hired by Mok to poke around Khepri and see if there was any truth to the rumors that they were starting a military buildup. Even though they didn't find any direct evidence that Khepri was preparing for war, he couldn't deny that something was going on there and Lucky's former builder—he was loathe to use the term "Master"—seemed to have been in the thick of it.

The truth was that he considered his contract with Mok fulfilled and he'd file a report with the crime boss as soon as he got back to the ship. Whatever they did past this would be out of loyalty to his friend. Given some of the things that they'd been dragged into because of his and Crusher's personal problems, he didn't think he had the right to tell the battlesynth they were calling it quits just because they didn't find anything in the first two places they'd looked.

"SECURITY BREACH … condition two-alpha."

The words came over the intercom in Jason's quarters and made him jump in his seat. It was the middle of night hours on the Phoenix and he had been sitting at the small desk composing a detailed report to Saditava Mok about what they'd found so they could secure the rest of their fee. The upgraded systems Twingo had installed had included new internal security protocols that allowed Jason more flexibility in how he employed them. A condition two alert meant that someone had opened a hatch from the inside; the alpha qualifier meant it was someone from his crew.

"Damnit, Lucky," Jason groaned, knowing exactly who would be sneaking off the ship in the middle of the night. He now cursed his decision to stay docked to the station until the next day. He quickly tossed his shirt and boots back on, grabbed a weapon off the wall rack by the door, and left his quarters.

He didn't bother rushing after Lucky since he knew exactly where he would be going. In fact, it would be better if he wasn't spotted. He had to assume there was a reason he wasn't invited to go along so he would just follow at a discreet distance and watch Lucky's six.

After he navigated through the docking tubes and made it onto the main station, he took a right and tried to look as casual as he could. With a station as expansive as Pinnacle there were no real night hours, so the galleries were just as bustling as the last time they'd come through. When he passed down one of the connecting corridors to another of the wide-open galleries he saw that he wasn't the only one who seemed to be moving with a purpose. Ahead of him a trio of aliens in mismatched clothing were cutting through the crowd without slowing and without even a cursory look around at the shops and booths they were maneuvering through.

Jason let himself drift further to the right, hugging the edge of the corridor and slowing a bit to gain some distance. The group didn't speak to each other or to anyone else, just powered ahead with the leader even pushing a bystander from its path. Jason pulled his com unit out and saw with dismay that Lucky's wasn't appearing as an active address on the menu. The battlesynth must have left it on the Phoenix.

After passing the third gallery, Jason felt his instincts were correct that this group was tracking his friend for some reason. He also had to assume that if only three of them were moving on a battlesynth they must have something with them that allowed them the confidence to face off against him without being slaughtered. Even as he thought this he realized he'd screwed up himself and had been focusing on the three far too intently.

"Damnit!" he muttered and ducked off down the nearest side corridor, breaking into a sprint the moment he did and taking the next corridor he found. It was a dead end to the left that had a doublewide security door, probably rear access to the stores along the right side of the gallery he'd been in.

It was only a moment before he could hear the thudding of feet and pulled his weapon. He should have known immediately that it wouldn't just be three people bunched up and tracking Lucky. They'd done the exact same thing he would do: have a second team lagging back to see if the battlesynth had any backup.

"Didn't think this through, did you?" a burly Taukkir said as he stepped around the corner. He held a length of alloy bar stock in his hand with a knurled ball on one end that he was smacking into his hand as he approached. He saw what Jason held and laughed, a sound somewhere between a cough and a bark. "Not all that smart either, I see. You know that any weapon discharge will immediately set off the station's sensors and security will flood this place."

"You'll still be dead," Jason shrugged. "So what do you want?"

"I just need to know if you're tracking that battlesynth or our friends," the Taukkir said. "You're either its backup or our competition. Either way they won't find your bloody corpse for some time, so it won't hurt to tell me."

Jason frowned at that. Competition? "Why are you tracking a battlesynth?" he asked. "I'm just a simple opportunist and your friends aren't all that subtle. I figured I'd jump them after they found a mark."

"This is taking too long!" a harsh whisper came from beyond the corridor opening. The Taukkir had someone watching the main entrance from the gallery.

"Hold on and I'll set it straight," the Taukkir said, approaching Jason. "I'll make this as quick and painless as I can, little fella. Don't want—" He got no further as Jason lashed out with lightning quickness and ripped the cudgel from his hands. The much smaller human wheeled around, dropping to the floor as the shocked Taukkir made a grab for him.

Jason swung the weapon in an overhead blow, smashing it into the alien's unprotected foot. The bones splintered, and before the Taukkir could suck in a breath to scream in pain, Jason grabbed the weapon with both hands, his left holding it just below the ball, and drove it into the bottom of his opponent’s jaw.

"Keep it down!" the lookout hissed. Jason looked down at the now-pleading eyes of the Taukkir and hit him in the forehead with a half-assed blow from the weapon that may or may not have killed him.

"You'll want to see this," Jason said conversationally. He'd found that even professionals tended to not pay close attention to who was actually speaking when they were hurried and stressed, they merely reacted to the words. Thankfully these idiots were far from pros. Just as another Taukkir stepped around the corner, this one with the more typical tall, willowy build, he grabbed a handful of shirt and flung him down the side corridor.

"Sorry, champ … I've wasted too much time on you guys already."

"Wait!" the alien wailed as Jason approached. "I have—" Jason hit this one just hard enough to knock him out. He had no qualms about killing the two hired thugs, but dead bodies piled up in front of doors on Pinnacle Station usually kicked off unwelcome investigations, at least up on the gallery levels.

Jason quickly rooted through all their pockets and kept anything that looked semi-useful. There were some data cards and a few printed documents he'd have Kage look through later. He wanted to be well away from the scene of the crime, not to mention the horrific smell.

"Damn! What the hell do they have for blood … piss and bile?" Jason coughed as he propped them up to look like they were sleeping. Despite the multiple fractures, the big guy was still breathing so Jason made sure he tilted the head so that the blood from his broken lower and upper jaw wouldn't drain back and drown him.

"Well, that was pointless," he griped, resisting the urge to sprint after the aliens that were almost certainly closing in on Lucky by that point.

LUCKY PAUSED at the intersection and listened again. They were still back there. His sensors had easily picked up the three oafs tailing him and he had led them on a more circuitous route to his destination to try and find out what it was they wanted. Were they tracking him because of Omega Force, or because of what they might have inadvertently found? Not enough time had passed since the incident on Khepri for a team to have been activated and waiting for him here.

The three aliens were moving much more cautiously now that they'd lost track of him again. Lucky could clearly hear their panicked whispers to each other as they argued about how to proceed. There was some slight risk as Lucky knew he could not use his own energy weapons and then make it back to the Phoenix before security caught up with him, so it would be either surrender himself or leave a bloody swath of destruction in his escape. Besides, it didn't seem like the three tailing him were up to the job of subduing him.

It took them nearly five minutes to get near where Lucky stood concealed among a column of waste water pipes. The battlesynth's sensors could easily detect the nine rapidly beating hearts of the three Taukkir, a people he'd had no interaction with before but recognized. When they were within two meters he stepped out, his left foot landing with a thud against the alloy deck plates.

"Do it! Do it!" the smallest of the Taukkir insisted as the leader held up a small device with two antennas coming from it and, with a confident smile, pressed a button on it. Lucky's primary subprocessor fired off an alert that he'd never seen before, but he understood whatever the Taukkir was holding was a threat.

He launched himself forwards and grabbed the offending wrist, crushing it in the iron-hard grasp of his right hand as the left delicately plucked the device away now that the hand was no longer obeying the commands of its owner. The smaller Taukkir that had been egging on the leader fainted, collapsing to the deck in an awkward position, his eyes still half-open. The third took off running back the way he came.

"Not so fast!" Lucky looked up in time to see Jason Burke grab the fleeing Taukkir and, with an overly dramatic display in his opinion, lift him off the ground and hold him far above his head before slamming the alien into the ground so hard ribs could be heard breaking.

"Please don't kill us," the leader gasped, cradling his ruined wrist to his chest.

"Then tell me what this was supposed to do," Lucky said.

"They said it would immobilize you," the Taukkir groaned.

"Him specifically or one like him?" Jason asked.

"I don't know who you are!" the alien insisted. "We were approached by someone who paid untraceable credit chits and given a bunch of these boxes. They said if we saw a battlesynth to get close and hit the button and it would shut 'em down. For every one we collected we would get another five million credits. Five million! You're the first one we've seen since we agreed."

"Interesting," Lucky said. He handed the box to Jason. "We will doubtlessly want Twingo to analyze this."

"No shit." Jason stuffed the box angrily into a cargo pocket. "What the hell are you doing sneaking off the ship and roaming around down here by yourself?"

"I have a … hunch," Lucky said calmly.

"Then by all means … proceed." Jason's retort dripped with sarcasm.

They left the group of would-be abductors in the maintenance access corridor, writhing in pain and moaning. At least two of the three were doing that, the third still hadn't regained consciousness. They retraced their steps from earlier and ended up back in the small memorial chamber that Jason assumed was a mausoleum of sorts. Odd since on almost every spacecraft he'd been on, including large orbital platforms and stations, biological remains were never stored past the autopsy once someone died.

"We already looked over this crap, Lucky," Jason said. "What do you hope to accomplish?"

Lucky didn't answer. He walked over to the plaque memorializing Noyut Vulban and drove a fist through the engraved metal.

"Holy shit! This was your master plan? Petty vandalism?"

"Must you fill every moment with words?" Lucky asked sharply.

Jason opened his mouth and closed it a few times, stunned at the tone. "You don't have to be a dick about it," he sulked. "Just ask me to—"

"Captain!"

"Sorry."

Lucky gingerly peeled away the remains of the plaque and reached inside. He pulled out the expected small, sealed receptacle of what they assumed were Vulban's corporeal remains. He reached in again and tapped against the rear wall of the chamber before straightening his index finger and jabbing it through the thin metal, tearing and pulling it free. Behind the false wall was a small stack of data cards, a glossy black puck-shaped object, and a single handwritten note on a sheet.

"We should leave immediately," Lucky said, handing over the objects to Jason so he could carry them in his pockets. "We will not be able to hide the fact we've opened the cell." The battlesynth walked out quickly, and as Jason turned to follow his boot nudged something. He looked down and saw the vessel containing the remains of Vulban and stopped to put them back in the cell. After a moment's thought, however, he carefully slid the sealed metal container into his remaining empty pocket and followed Lucky back to the ship.

12

"Incoming transmission," Kage said as the Phoenix tore across space towards her mesh-out point. "It's to you specifically … it's from the Endurance."

"Shit. They must have spread the Phoenix's description around the fleet and now every cruiser or trawler will be accosting any Jepsen ship they come across," Jason cursed.

"I don't think so," Kage said. "The message is a compressed data packet with the header, 'To Captain Jason Burke, with regards.' That doesn't sound like they want us to stand by for boarding or to turn ourselves in."

"Maybe," Jason said. "Send no reply and put the message in my personal buffer without opening it to look first."

They had left Pinnacle in a hurry given all the broken and bloody Taukkir bodies Jason and Lucky had left behind. Crusher, after finding out what had happened, was not speaking to either of them. Without any real destination in mind, they had set a course for a slow slip-space flight back towards the ConFed core worlds. Jason wanted to give Lucky and Kage time to go through the items pulled out of Vulban's crypt cell, and he also needed to see if he could shake any more information out of Saditava Mok. Since he was normally a long-winded gasbag, Jason had to assume the uncharacteristically brief conversations meant he was holding something back.

"I'll be in the com room," Jason announced after the ship meshed-out and the slip-drive had stabilized. There were a few grunted, disinterested replies as he walked the short distance down the command deck to the cramped room that always smelled like hot electronics. He pulled up the packet that the human ship had transmitted with some trepidation, selecting the first message that said it was from the captain of the Endurance.

"Greetings, Captain Burke. My name is Jonathan Swank. I'm the commanding officer of the USS Endurance, the latest Pathfinder-class cruiser to enter Earth's fleet." The man speaking on the video was everything Jason remembered of field grade officers about to get that first star from his time in the Air Force. He had to admit he was probably a cynic and wasn't giving Captain Swank a fair shake.

"Your vessel appeared on our sensors and all of our COs have an unofficial order to pass onto you the data packet attached to this message. I also wanted to reach out to you personally and let you know that despite the former President of the United States declaring you a fugitive to the public, the upper echelon of our new unified Earth military know the truth. Captain Marcus Webb, formerly Commander Webb, has made sure we know of your selfless actions and sacrifices made on our behalf. Despite anything you may hear otherwise, you may consider any human vessel you encounter in space a friend.

"I hope one day to meet you and thank you in person. My son was a young enlisted man aboard one of the Terranovus cruisers that you allowed to surrender and withdraw. I, for one, will never forget that act of mercy. Safe travels, Captain."

"I wasn't expecting that." Jason shook his head as the message closed out. He selected the next in order without seeing whom it might be from.

"Jason! I hope this message finds you well." The smiling face of former Commander Marcus Webb appeared on the screen. Despite himself, Jason smiled also. When they'd first met he'd have gladly tossed Webb out an airlock, but by the end of the Ull mission he considered the SEAL commander a true friend even if he was a filthy squid.

"If you're looking at my ugly mug it's safe to say you've come across one of our new Pathfinder-class ships. Not bad, huh? These 4th generation starships are thanks to what you gave that CIA spook—yeah, I was put on the need to know list for that—and it wasn't just ship designs. Science, practical engineering, the works … I won't pretend there aren't some growing pains by dumping this in our laps all at once, but I think we'll be okay. If you will, take a gander at my shiny new eagles, Sergeant"—Webb shifted so the camera got a view of the Naval Captain's insignia pinned on his shoulder—"which means, sadly, I'm no longer on the operational side of things. So unless you come back home within my lifetime we won't be able to split that bottle of Crown Royal we talked about.

"Anyway … Russ is fine, still working with the military as a civilian contractor. You probably hear more from Abiyah than we do, though I hear he and Carolyn haven't killed each other yet, so that's good. I've been discreetly looking after Jacob and his grandparents like you asked; not much to report other than he graduated high school with decent grades.

"Talk to you whenever I get near a slip-com node, you worthless Air Force puke."

Jason sat back as the second video flicked off and breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd accessed the archived data from the Machine and put together an interactive quasi-AI program that would help Earth quickly catch up in science and technology, he knew there was a chance he was handing over a virtual Pandora's Box that would only hasten their demise. Power that wasn't earned was more often than not abused. It was far too early to know for sure, but it at least seemed like humanity was making a real effort to get its collective shit together as they stepped out onto the galactic stage.

The familiar, easy friendship that he had developed with Russ Johnson and Marcus Webb, while filling a need for human interaction he hadn't realized existed, did have the downside of making him mildly homesick whenever the conversation ended. He'd ended up having to keep his friendships semi-secret because Crusher and Twingo became bizarrely jealous and petty when he would share news from Earth during meal times, and it would last for days afterwards.

The rest of the packet was specs on the Pathfinder-class ships, some recent pictures of the development efforts on Terranovus, and something that made him tear up: the address and access codes for the slip-com broadcast node from Earth to its entire fleet. His access was restricted to the one thing he really wanted: media broadcasts. He did the conversion in his head and realized he'd missed last year's football season but that hockey season was still in full swing.

He archived the rest of the data for further review, put the video messages into his own encrypted network location, and closed out the terminal. He'd heard a few people walk by on the way to the galley and he knew Lucky was probably hovering outside, waiting to use the equipment to begin his analysis, so he decided to grab something to eat and then see how many of his favorite shows were still on the air.

"Good news about the brat?" Crusher asked around a mouthful when Jason sat across from him with his own tray.

"I heard he was okay as far as Marcus knows," Jason said.

"Still no direct contact?" Twingo asked.

"I don't know if you remember our first meeting, but Junior doesn't exactly have a stellar opinion of dear old Dad." Jason had to try to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Ed and Jess tried to explain things to him, but he blames me for the fact they lived in isolation and, oddly enough, for not being there when Taryn died."

"Doesn't seem fair," Crusher said. "You'd think having a father that was a hero would have some impact."

"He's not exactly at a reasonable age," Jason said. "I'm sure Galvetic adolescents aren't any more rational than human teenagers."

"True enough," Crusher said. "So now what in the hell are we doing? Flying circles again?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

"Actually, yes," Crusher said. "And since my friends keep leaving me behind for every little scrape they get into, I don't see why I even need to be here."

"His pouting aside, we are just burning fuel with no real mission goals," Twingo said.

"No, we're conducting an extensive shakedown cruise of the Phoenix's upgrades," Jason corrected. "In the process, we're also helping a good friend with something that's important to him. Or did you want to go tell Lucky that his problems aren't of any interest to you?"

"Well … that kills that argument," Crusher said. "I'll be in the cargo bay training. I'd suggest you join me. I'm sure all your time spent playing farmer has left you soft and slow."

"We'll see." Jason pushed his tray away. "Get ready to have your ass kicked."

It was just like old times. Jason let himself be lulled into overconfidence while Crusher sandbagged the early matches and then, once he'd overextended, beat the crap out of him. It was one of those beatings that left Jason unable to breath without pain. Crusher hadn't walked away without taking some hard shots himself, but Jason was once again reminded why he stood supreme even among a race of skilled and aggressive warriors.

"WHAT THE HELL happened to you?" Twingo started at Jason's appearance.

"Crusher decided to take his annoyance at being excluded recently out on my face," Jason said. "What've you got for me?"

"I took apart this thing you pulled off those amateurs on Pinnacle and had Kage run a detailed analysis on the software." Twingo waved to the disassembled device on his bench. "They were partially correct. It's definitely Kheprian in origin and it is made to be used against battlesynths specifically, but it doesn't immobilize them."

"Go on," Jason grunted as he lowered himself painfully into a seat.

"It's made to temporarily inhibit a battlesynth’s secondary actuators and onboard weaponry," Twingo explained. "In other words, it turns them into roughly the equivalent of a normal synth for a time. We weren't able to figure out what the delay is. It's possible it could vary for each individual. You said Lucky was immune to it?"

"Didn't even faze him," Jason said. "And he didn't seem surprised by that either … I think he had some inkling of what the thing did. From what we gathered off those idiots, it seems that someone on Khepri used the shotgun approach to track down any loose battlesynths that may have missed or ignored the recall order. These guys weren't waiting on Lucky specifically."

"So every major transfer or service hub probably has roving gangs of morons waving these boxes at every synth they meet." Twingo rubbed his chin. "How does that help us?"

"By itself it doesn't," Jason said. "We already knew about the recall order. But there was also a slip-com node address that they were supposed to use once they'd made contact or neutralized a battlesynth. The instructions were very specific that the 'unit' had to be intact. The strange part—what?" He interrupted himself at Twingo's sudden sour expression.

"I know you don't know this because it was well before your time out here, but this really throws what we knew about the pru and the synth program out the airlock," Twingo said. "The general consensus in the quadrant was that they were benevolent creators and, out of the goodness of their hearts, freed their accidentally sentient creations to be a free people. This business of recalls and bounties seems to refute that, at least as far as battlesynths are concerned. It looks to me like they're still slaves."

"That thought had occurred to me," Jason admitted. "It's why we're pressing ahead with this mission despite whatever side angle Mok is playing."

"You don't have to convince me, I was getting a bit bored puttering around on S'Tora anyway. So, what's next?"

"Let's wait and see what Lucky can dig up in that cache that was hidden behind Noyut Vulban's remains," Jason said, wincing as he stood. "In the meantime, I'm going to hit the rack and let Doc's nanobots get to work on these bruises."

"Good luck."

"WE HAVE A DESTINATION," Lucky announced as Jason walked back onto the bridge, feeling somewhat better after allowing his enhanced physiology and the medical nanobots to repair the Crusher-inflicted injuries. "Zeta Vandor-6. We believe the instructions left by Vulban point to someone he trusted there."

"Zeta Vandor-6?" Jason repeated. "There's a system that has a habitable sixth planet? This isn't going to be some damn ice cube with surface temperatures in the negative hundreds, is it?"

"It's actually a habitable moon," Kage said. "It is an odd system, but this place is right in the temperate sweet spot. There are three such moons orbiting two habitable planets in the inner Zeta Vandor system so they were counted in the ConFed's survey data."

"Were you able to get anything else useful off those data cards?" Jason asked.

"Oddly enough, no." Kage sounded frustrated. "They're locked with some encryption routine that's adaptive in a way I've never seen. I can't even actually tell how they're doing it, much less devise a strategy to overcome it. Lucky and I agreed that it might be best if we try to make contact on this moon and see if whomever we might track down has the decryption key."

"Sensible," Jason said. He resisted the urge to tell Kage that he was impressed by his restraint when he saw that Lucky was physically holding the data cards. Apparently when he said “Lucky and I agreed,” what was implied was “Lucky took them and won't give them back.” "New course is entered and locked?"

"Just waiting for your approval."

"Let's do it," Jason said. "And crank her up. I think we've babied the new grav-drive long enough. Let's see if it was worth the money we paid for it."

13

"What did your team find?"

"We tracked Omega Force to Pinnacle Station, but they'd left before we arrived." The being standing in front of Mok's desk was tall and lean with severe features etched into his light green-skinned face. He went by the name Syodo and had come highly recommended from Mok's contacts within the Empire's clandestine services.

"I'm going to want more than that, Syodo," Mok said.

"We traced their movements from a series of violent encounters on Gallery Level Twenty-Six and below in the Engineering levels," Syodo said. "Apparently Burke and Lucky attacked a superior number of Taukkir narco-gangsters and left them in bad shape … all with serious injuries, no fatalities."

"Captain Burke knows that needlessly leaving dead bodies in his wake leads to investigations, a headache he doesn't need." Mok smiled. "What else?"

"The Taukkir told us that they'd been contracted to keep a look out for any rogue battlesynths roaming around and had been given a device which supposedly disabled them, but when they tried it on Lucky it seemed to be ineffective," Syodo continued. "We dug a little deeper and it seems they were to be on the lookout for any random battlesynth and not Lucky specifically.

"We also found that he and Burke desecrated the final resting place of a Noyut Vulban and stole the remains."

"They what?" Mok asked, certain he'd misheard.

"Just as I said, sir," Syodo said with a double twitch of his ears, his species equivalent of a shrug. "No idea why, and we were unable to find out who this Vulban was."

"And I suppose you have no idea where they're off to now?" Mok asked. "I could, of course, simply contact Burke and ask him, but I've found that he's more effective if he thinks he's doing something of his own volition."

"No, the Phoenix was long gone by the time we arrived," Syodo said. "We were fortunate to discover that they were even there in the first place. One of our lookouts recognized Burke."

"Keep at it," Mok said, stabbing his finger at a button on his desk and killing the connection. The hologram of Syodo shimmered and then vanished as the slip-com link was terminated. He spun around in his chair and looked out the floor to ceiling window, his fingers steepled and his brow furrowed.

He'd hired Syodo and let him pick his team in a misguided effort to recreate what Jason Burke had been able to accomplish seemingly by accident. Despite having turned loose a considerable amount of resources, his team had never been able to produce the results Omega Force pulled off with apparent ease. He understood that Burke had collected a unique crew and some of his team, like Crusher, were one of a kind and wouldn't be easily replicated.

Syodo's seven-member team had proven to be effective at discreet interdictions and pacifications, but what Mok had originally intended was to just let them loose out in the wild and then call upon them as he needed. Perhaps his mistake had been in pulling too heavily from a pool of ex-military candidates. Then again, maybe Omega Force was just one of those rare occurrences that couldn't be recreated. On the surface, no single member of that team seemed so special that Mok couldn't hire one just as good, but when trying to mix those individuals into an effective team he began to see that he may have missed the mark with his plan. The fact Syodo couldn't seem to find a way to simply track the Phoenix galled him and meant he'd have to either reach out to Burke, bring in more resources to find him, or just let it play out as it would. The problem with his second option was that Burke, always suspicious, would catch wind of it and disappear. The issue with the first option was that the human was also highly distrustful and would likely give him next to nothing. So it was to be option three, which was essentially a lack of options.

What was so infuriating was that there was nothing specific he could point at, no one entity or occurrence he could focus on as the source of all the trouble. It was all a lot of speculation, rumor, and happenstance that might all just be coincidence rather than a coordinated effort to bring down the ConFed, something he wasn't even sure was entirely possible.

"I want any communications from Captain Burke brought to my attention no matter when they're received, understood?" Mok said, knowing that the computer that controlled his office would forward it appropriately.

"Yes, sir," the voice of one of his personal assistants came back a moment later.

"Now … I wait," he said, trying to control his emotions. Being blind and powerless was not a pleasant sensation, nor one he was accustomed to.

"SO THE PLANETS these moons orbit are also life-sustaining?" Jason asked.

"Not unless you want your bones crushed under the weight of your own body," Doc said. "The gravity is so high the only things living down there are low-crawling invertebrates and ground-hugging flora."

"Sounds pleasant," Crusher said. "So what's the plan?"

"There are three potential contacts down on Zeta Vandor-6 that we were able to find through a localized Nexus search that could be who we're looking for," Jason said. The term Nexus, the name of a specific company that serviced the core worlds, had been quickly embedding itself into the quadrant's lexicon as a generic word for any public network.

"One of the names was a legal counsel for the Vulban family at one time; her name popped up quite a bit in Kage's research so we'll try there first."

"Thin," Crusher grunted. "Is that the best we have?"

"For right now," Jason said, not wanting to get into a protracted argument about it. So far they'd been muddling along, tugging on the thin threads they came across, and he was beginning to get the feeling that whatever they were chasing wasn't meant to be easily found. It also further disturbed him that they had no clear goal in mind. Were they helping Lucky chase down answers from his past, or helping the ConFed maintain its stabilizing control over the quadrant? Not clearly knowing what the objective was made it entirely likely they were being manipulated by Mok, though to what ends Jason couldn't guess. Despite his interest in them, Jason knew someone of Mok's wealth and influence could buy a thousand small merc teams to accomplish his goals.

"I have information on our most promising lead, Captain," Kage said. "It's a legal counsel down there named Nace Ba'an who represented the Vulban family on multiple occasions."

"Why is that more promising than our other leads?" Jason asked. "We already knew she was attached to the family in some capacity."

"The official records have been scrubbed as to what, specifically, she did," Kage said. "I was able to find some documents on the Nexus that were administrative records submitted by the Clerk of Tribunal. These are just procedural records, but they do show that Nace Ba'an had arrived on four different occasions with members of Noyut Vulban's family during the initial immigration process that made them full citizens of the Zeta Vandor system."

"Damn … good work, Kage." Jason couldn't find anywhere to poke holes in the flighty code slicer's work. He also had to appreciate the Veran's ingenuity when it came to finding back-channel information when someone was actively trying to sanitize official records. "The fact the other records are altered at all makes me think you're on the right track."

"Uh … thanks," Kage mumbled, unaccustomed to having his theories accepted right away, much less complimented.

Zeta Vandor-6 was a relatively insignificant world with no major exports or attractions, so the traffic in orbit was sparse. The Phoenix was quickly given clearance to land at the starport of their choice, as they were flying the registration of a light courier ship. The tarmac was littered haphazardly with ships of similar size and registry as their courier so Jason didn't give much thought to paying for a hangar to hide his gunship.

"I think we can safely make some assumptions before we go barging into this lawyer's office and begin making threats or whatever else you might have planned," Doc said once the brakes were applied and the main drive spooled down.

"I'm listening, but I resent your insinuation," Jason said, crossing his arms and leaning back in the pilot's seat while Kage finished shutting down the flight systems.

"This Nace Ba'an has been actively trying to detach herself from the Vulban name. I think a more subtle approach is needed to see if we can get anything useable out of her," Doc said. Before the others could interrupt or run over top of him with their own ideas, Doc quickly laid out his plan and even began handing out assignments. Not having really thought of anything himself other than just walking up and asking her about the Vulban affair, Jason acquiesced and allowed Doc to run with the operation with only a few tweaks on his part.

"I guess that covers it," he said. "Let's get to it. Kage, call for the ground cars and everyone else go get dressed for their respective roles. Let's keep the personal armament to a reasonable level, Crusher. Any questions?"

He got two negative responses, the rest looked away as if bored. Jason, used to such treatment, walked off the bridge.

"HOW MAY I be of assistance?"

"My name is Doctor Jorvren Ma'Fredich," Doc said. "I was told this was the office Counselor Ba'an works out of?"

"Quite right, it is," the young male alien that might have been a zuras beamed. "Are you expected?"

"I'm afraid not," Doc said. "This is an urgent matter that came to my attention quite suddenly. I was hoping she would have time to see me for a few minutes."

"Has Counselor Ba'an provided services for you in the past?"

"No, but she came highly recommended," Doc said. The receptionist paused, his hands hovering over the terminal as he considered what Doc has said.

"Please wait here," he finally said and walked back into the inner office.

"So far so good, I guess," Twingo said. The engineer was pulling at his suit uncomfortably while shifting Doc's attaché case from hand to hand.

"Stop fidgeting," Doc admonished. "You're supposed to be a professional assistant." Twingo's retort was cut off as the receptionist walked back out and made some show of sitting and arranging himself before turning back to Doc.

"She just happens to have a few moments to spare, Doctor Ma'Fredich," he said. "Very fortunate for you as she is very much in demand and has a tight schedule."

"I can imagine," Doc said, his voice heavy with disdain as he made a point to look around the cramped office with its faded wall coverings and worn furniture. "Shall I just walk back there?"

"Please do." The receptionist didn't bother looking up, just waved them around towards the door behind him. Doc bit off his response and walked around the desk and through the doorway, finding himself in a small office loaded with clutter from floor to ceiling.

"And who are you, exactly?" a brittle voice called out from behind a stack of actual printed sheets and ancient-looking bound books. Doc moved to peer around the stack and saw an elderly pru woman plugging away at a modern computer terminal.

"I am—"

"I know the name you gave my witless assistant," Nace Ba'an said. "I asked who you are. Who you really are."

"Distrustful, I see," Doc said and sat down in the seat across from Ba'an when she didn't offer. "My name actually is Jorvren Ma'Fredich, and since I did not yet provide the reason for my visit I would say I've not been misleading with anything so far."

"Ma'Fredich," Ba'an repeated, looking up from the terminal to peer closely at Doc. "I don't recall ever having dealings with any nebhu, not that it would mean anything given your peoples' level of integration within the ConFed."

Doc was surprised that she correctly identified his species but kept his face impassive. "I'll get right to the point, Counselor," he said. "I am looking for living relatives of a pru named Noyut Vulban who died on Pinnacle Station, a hub located in the Tycho Corridor. I have credible information that you helped them immigrate to Zeta Vandor-6."

"I'm certain I have no idea who or what you are talking about, Doctor," Ba'an said, but Doc could tell she was rattled even without being fully aware of pru body language.

"That's unfortunate," he said. "I need to speak with—"

"I think I've heard enough," Ba'an said, standing quickly enough to send her chair back into the shelves behind her desk. "I've already told you I cannot help you; further dissertation on your problems would seem to be a waste of both of our time, would it not?"

"I suppose so," Doc said, also standing. "Good day." He walked out and motioned to Twingo to follow him as he left the office without even a nod to the receptionist, who was apparently fully engrossed by something on his terminal.

"How did it go?" he said quietly.

"She's locking up the front of her office," Jason said, his voice coming through the discreet earpiece Doc was wearing. "She also looks rushed and worried. Okay, Kage … you're up."

"SHE'S ACCESSING an anonymous messaging service," Kage said. The Veran's eyes were half closed as he concentrated. He was sitting near a local public network junction and using his neural implants to slice in and track every move Ba'an made on her terminal to see if she'd cough up any actionable intel now that Doc had rattled her.

"The message she's leaving isn't very specific and it's just bouncing to another anonymous address, but I think she's arranging a meeting."

"That's too coincidental for it not to be what we're looking for," Jason said. "Any way you can backtrack that receiving address and get a name or general location?"

"Working on it now," Kage said. "The service purges the accessing node's address after each session, but there's always a chance there's something floating around in a buffer somewhere."

They had known Nace Ba'an, if she was even the slightest bit competent, wouldn't have divulged the information they wanted just because they asked for it. It was also unlikely that Kage would be able to go into her system and ferret out what they needed without any real frame of reference. Instead, they decided to create a situation in which Ba'an was made to focus on what they wanted and then track her actions from there.

"She's now accessing the ConFed Nexus and doing a wide search on Doc's name," Kage said. "She even managed to spell it right. We scrubbed his records from public searches years ago, but I've pointed her towards one of the profiles we keep that lists him as an actual respectable doctor."

"He is an actual respectable doctor," Crusher said. "He just keeps poor company."

"You know what I mean," Kage waved him off. "Now be quiet. This isn't as easy as I make it look."

"Just don't get too cute," Jason warned. "We don't want to spook her and she's not stupid. Don't make things too obvious."

Another two hours passed before Ba'an closed up her office and left. Kage stayed where he was with Crusher and continued to comb through her terminal to see if there was something he missed while Jason left and began following the lawyer from a distance. As he'd hoped, she appeared oblivious to all except what was directly in front of her. Her reactions so far told Jason not only was she not trained or accustomed to this sort of cloak and dagger routine but that they were likely the first ones to come around sniffing for Vulban's family. Both of those facts left him optimistic that they'd be able to secure the objective without too much trouble, but then what? It was as likely as not that any of Vulban's offspring or distant family wouldn't have a clue about the data cards left in his crypt.

"Captain, a confirmation just hit that message account," Kage's voice came over the com. "She's heading to a residency unit on the outskirts of a city called Deltiri, seventy-five kilometers from where we are. I'm sending the location to our com unit."

"It looks like she'll be using public transport," Jason said. "Lucky, come get me in the air car and we'll be waiting for her there."

"Acknowledged," Lucky said.

"Twingo and Doc, you guys are done," Jason went on. "Head back to the Phoenix and make sure she's prepped for a quick launch if needed. Crusher, start heading towards me … you're coming with us."

"On my way." Crusher's relief was evident in his voice. Jason didn't really need the big guy for questioning a few civilians, but Crusher had been complaining of being constantly “left out” for the entire flight to the Zeta Vandor system so he figured it wouldn't hurt to let him ride along in the air car.

It didn’t take long for Crusher to track him down, and Jason could only roll his eyes as he saw the towering warrior plowing through the crowd making a direct line for him. Apparently the terms “discreet” and “inconspicuous” hadn't quite sunk in when he was giving the mission brief.

"Over there." Jason pointed to a drop-off area the next street over where he could see their rented air car settling down among dozens of other similar vehicles.

"You think this trip will have been worth the trouble so far?" Crusher asked.

"You have something better to do?"

"Not really," Crusher said with a shrug. "It's just been boring as hell so far. I'm sure there are some more exciting jobs we've passed up to keep on this one. Playing detective isn't exactly our strong suit."

"This could be the end of the road," Jason said. "Either way we owe it to Lucky to chase this thing to the end."

14

The housing complex they arrived at was another of the ubiquitous, cheap, synthetic block structures that popped up on nearly every hastily colonized world in the ConFed. They were also efficient and scalable, the type of building that made perfect sense when trying to prop up an infrastructure from scratch. The others didn't even seem to notice them, but Jason found each one profoundly depressing for some reason.

Part of his disdain for them was that they were never replaced with something more permanent once a world's economy became self-sustaining and there was a steady influx of immigrants and industry. Instead they simply fell into disrepair and, inevitably, became slums. He'd never been near one that had stood longer than a decade that looked like it was even remotely safe, and the one before him now was no exception. Entire sections of the outer cladding were missing, showing the alloy lattice structure beneath, windows were broken out and replaced with whatever could be secured over the opening, and trash was piled up into nearly every corner.

"Lovely," Crusher rumbled. "Which one?"

"It's the furthest section of the campus." Jason pointed to his left. "The slightly less rundown building there with only two stories."

The trio tried to keep a low profile and stick to the periphery as they walked around the complex, but they were noticed almost immediately.

"You three! You look like you have some credits to spare." A leering alien stepped onto the footpath with four others. Jason had seen the species before but couldn't remember where. Maybe Colton Hub?

"We're flat broke, my friend," he said flatly. "Just passing through."

"Well that's a problem," another alien laughed. "You must not know there's a tax to use our path." The small group moved to surround the three of them so Jason stopped, sighing at the inevitable.

"Trust me when I tell you this isn't what you want to do," he said. He was more concerned about drawing too much attention while they didn't know what their target looked like than he was about the risk of the five idiots actually hurting them.

"Listen to this pink little slug talk down at us!" an alien with pebbled, tough-looking skin said. "I'm tired of listening to his—" It tried to surprise Jason by swinging a short cudgel in midsentence, but the human had seen the move coming long before the arm even moved.

He stepped to his right to make sure he didn't back into his friends and lunged forward, grabbing the offending wrist in his left hand and wrapping his right arm around the other's at the elbow. Jason was strong enough that he was able to stop the swing, leaving the alien gaping at him with its arm held high.

"I warned you," Jason said and yanked down with his right arm while pushing with the left. The move slammed the weapon into its owner’s face with a wet crunch. The alien didn't even cry out as it slumped in his arms. Jason shook it free and let it fall to the ground just in time to meet the rush of its friend. Behind him he could hear that the others in the group had moved in on Crusher and Lucky and felt a momentary pang of sympathy for what was about to happen to them.

Lucky, completely preoccupied with his own mission, simply thumped one on the head with a closed fist, knocking it unconscious. Crusher, having been deprived of any real sport of late, grabbed the first of the two squaring off with him and threw it as far as he could before turning to face the larger remaining alien.

"Show me what you've got!" he snarled, spreading his arms wide. The attacker was either utterly fearless or just a slow learner. As Jason smashed a fist into the side of the neck of his second opponent, he could see the bulky alien come at Crusher, arms spinning wildly. The Galvetic warrior batted aside both of his opponent's hands with negligent slaps and delivered a stout headbutt that staggered but didn't incapacitate it.

"Oh come on!" Crusher taunted. "All that muscle and all you can do is wave your arms at me? Get up!"

"Lucky," Jason said and pointed to the alien Crusher had tossed, now slowly getting up and looking to run. "Don't want him getting any friends."

"May I have that, please?" Lucky indicated he wanted the cudgel Jason had picked up that had belonged to his first opponent. Jason handed it over and watched as the battlesynth launched it with a high, arcing toss until it hit the fleeing alien right at the base of the skull.

"He will likely survive that."

"I'm good either way," Jason said. "Just want this over with quickly. Crusher! Let's wrap this up." Crusher had no such plans as he tossed the now-bleeding alien to the ground and continued to taunt it. Just when Jason was about to intervene they heard the telltale sounds of local law enforcement, and recon drones began zipping around the area, shining lights on those they found walking around and issuing commands.

"Shit! Let's go, now!"

Crusher quickly finished off the last of the would-be stickup gang and followed after his friends at a flat sprint. Jason was surprised to see that the big warrior was lagging behind quite badly by the time they leapt over a retaining wall and continued towards their destination in a shallow drainage runoff. Could Crusher really be that out of shape from sitting around on S'Tora so long?

"I told you to hurry up!" he snapped as Lucky motioned for them to halt. Crusher was huffing like a leaky bellows and shaking his head.

"I did … right after you said something," he finally managed to get out. "Someone must have called the local security force as soon as the confrontation began."

"I can see our objective from here," Lucky said. "The unit is three hundred and forty meters across a storage lot. The law enforcement presence has also cleared out all of the locals, so we will not miss Nace Ba'an when she arrives."

"See," Crusher smacked Jason's arm. "I knew what I was doing."

They sat in concealment for another ninety minutes before Jason's patience could take no more. Law enforcement had cleared the area, so there was no way they would have missed Ba'an approaching from the direction of the public transport station to the east of their location. Did Kage give them a wrong address?

"Something's wrong," he said, standing and stretching. "She should have been here by now. Kage … any ideas?"

"Stand by," Kage said over the open channel.

"Could she have gone in the back entrance?" Crusher asked.

"It wouldn't do her any good," Jason said. "These units have external exits and we're looking at the door for the unit that Kage said was the right one. Even if she went out of her way and came in from the north side, she'd have no choice but to come down that hall to the door."

"It is also getting dark," Lucky pointed out. "None of the interior lights to that unit have come on."

"Captain, she's a bit craftier than we gave her credit for," Kage's voice came back. "She's deactivated any personal coms that I would normally use to track her with, but her transport pass account was easy enough to access. She switched mag-levs halfway to your location and backtracked here. There's no activity at her office so I'm checking to see if there are any other places she might have access to for a meeting."

"Stupid," Crusher muttered.

"Actually she seems to be pretty on top of it," Jason argued.

"I meant us. Or more specifically: you."

"We're coming back to you, Kage," Jason said, ignoring Crusher. "Find her before we arrive." He terminated the open channel since the operation was no longer active and it was an unnecessary security risk.

"I think we should probably investigate the residence before departing," Lucky said.

"Breaking and entering? Like common criminals?" Crusher snorted. "I like it."

The motley group quickly covered the half-kilometer to the building, Crusher huffing and puffing again, and set up a hasty perimeter while Lucky analyzed the lock on the door. Apparently he decided that it wasn't worth the trouble to be subtle, so he grabbed the handle and cranked on it until metal could be heard cracking within the door. With a hard shove it popped in and swung away on a set of parallel-style hinges Jason had rarely seen used.

"I could have done that!" Crusher hissed. "I thought we were being sneaky and underhanded."

"We were … but with you panting like a Restarian argle cat having a seizure it's not like they didn't know we were here. Maybe if you—whoa!" Jason cut himself off mid-rant as he stepped into the main living area and his ocular implants switched over to low-light mode.

"I'd say we're in the right place," Crusher said when he shouldered Jason out of the way. "And I'm in the same physical condition I've always been in!" Lucky looked over at this, but said nothing.

The room was awash in imagery, and even scaled models, of synths and battlesynths. There seemed to be no discerning theme or effort to organize it … just a chaotic jumble that filled the cramped room from wall to wall.

"So what do you think, Lucky?" Jason asked. "Is this guy connected to the synth program somehow or is he just a fan?"

"There are schematics and technical specifications here that would not be easy to obtain," Lucky said, sifting through some material on a corner table. "Some of these depictions are of unit types that were never produced, some not even prototyped to my knowledge. I would have to surmise that this individual had some connection to Khepri beyond being an enthusiast."

"Okay, we don't have long … let's do a quick once over and then get the hell out of here," Jason said. Crusher and Lucky wasted no time going through all the material that was in hardcopy form while Jason searched the cramped sleeping area for some clue as to who actually lived in the apartment. By the time they were leaving they still didn't have a name, but Jason was certain that this person was somehow attached to the synth program in some capacity, or knew someone who had been.

"The door lock is not able to be repaired quickly," Lucky said.

"Weld it," Jason said. "Whoever lives here can worry about getting in after that, and it'll keep him from being robbed in the meantime." A few quick bursts from Lucky's cutting laser and the door was welded into the frame at three different spots. Jason felt a pang of guilt at having destroyed the door and ransacked the place so he wanted to make sure they didn't leave with the place hanging wide open. They were almost back to the rented air car when Jason's com unit pinged.

"Captain, we might have her," Doc said. "Kage was able to track a single payment for a lease on a storage unit in an industrial district on the outskirts here. We're heading there now."

"We're on our way," Jason said and broke into a run. He could hear the heavy footfalls of his friends behind him as he set a blistering pace for the three-kilometer run back to the vehicle.

"IT'S A LITTLE CLICHÉ, but still not a bad place if you want to avoid scrutiny," Jason whispered. "You sure that's her in there?"

"It is," Kage insisted. "She'd have kept it hidden if it hadn't been for a single time two years ago when the biannual lease was paid through one of her own accounts. When I backtracked the unit from there it showed years of payment via credit chit and hand receipt."

"Damn … one slip up and that's all it takes," Jason chuckled. "Good work."

Everyone but Twingo, who had stayed with the Phoenix, was on the roof of a skeletal structure that was actually an automated store and sort system for rectangular shipping modules of the kind they packed into off-world freighters. Every so often it would start shaking as the machinery inside received a command and went to retrieve a specific unit and have it waiting for pickup.

"So what is that building? It doesn't look like your average warehouse," Crusher said.

"It used to be storage for things that were held up by Import Control until all import and export operations were moved out to the starport," Kage said. "Now it's just for-rent open spaces. There are a few using the space for fabrication and light manufacturing, others just for storage. What's wrong with him?"

Jason looked over to see Lucky standing rigid, his head swiveling back and forth while he ignored the conversation.

"Something up, Lucky?" Jason asked only to be still ignored. "Lucky!"

"I am not certain." Lucky continued his scanning.

"If you're going to go down there I'd suggest you do it now," Doc said. "She arrived well before you did so she could leave at any minute."

"Crusher, Lucky, and Kage … let's go," Jason said and vaulted over the edge, dropping fifteen feet to the maintenance catwalk with a soft grunt. He was off and down to the next level when he heard Crusher land heavily above him and saw Lucky drop over the edge like a stone while holding Kage. There was a flicker of light as the battlesynth fired his repulsors to cushion the landing for his passenger's sake.

Once they were all on the ground they moved swiftly across the tarmac, Lucky still uncharacteristically distracted. The grounds were all but deserted as only the occasional automated cargo shuffler plodded by, oblivious to their presence. From what Jason could see, Ba'an and her client hadn't bothered with any security measures, apparently confident the secrecy of the location was enough.

"Let's not get too creative," he said once they were a few meters from the double-wide alloy doors. "We go on three." As he was about to count down, Lucky actually jerked as if hit with high-voltage and spun around. "Okay … you're starting to weird me out. What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I cannot pinpoint the cause, but my proximity alert subsystem is issuing low-level alerts," Lucky said. "I will try to ignore it."

"What could cause that?" Jason frowned.

"Unknown. It has never happened before to my recollection," Lucky said. "At least not without the specific threat being clearly identified."

"Okay … let's try this again," Jason said. "One … two—" he was cut short by Crusher walking up and ripping the door from its frame and throwing it down the hallway. "Or … we could just fucking do whatever we want and to hell with the plan."

"Silence!" Crusher thundered over the cries of alarm coming from within the room.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Kage asked.

"Short answer? He's an idiot," Jason answered and ran up to try and salvage the situation.

"Who are you?" Nace Ba'an demanded in a clear, confident voice. "I'll have you know that—"

"Calm yourself, Counselor." Jason held his hands out flat, palms down. "We're just here to talk … we're associates of the doctor that came to visit you at your office earlier today."

"Oh my!" a pru male said from the back where he'd been cowering. He stood rigid with wide eyes and a slack mouth, but he wasn't looking at the hulking Galvetic warrior or the human. "I can't believe it. Combat Unit 777."

"I am afraid I am not acquainted with you," Lucky said from the doorway.

"Of course you aren't," the pru said, walking forward hesitantly. "But I know you—of you. My father spoke of you and your lot mates often. I recognize your facial armor as well as the unique shape of the fairings that cover your arm cannons."

"It looks like we're in the right spot," Crusher said.

15

"Let's begin with introductions and we'll go from there," Jason said. "You are?"

"My client—"

"It's okay, Nace," the pru said, placing an hand on her arm. "I can't believe that they're here to harm me given the company they keep. My name is Tauless Vulban-Biral."

"Tall ass?" Crusher asked. "Is that like—"

"Tauless," Nace Ba'an repeated angrily.

"And you're the offspring of Noyut Vulban?" Jason asked, wanting to smooth over the awkward pause.

"Yes."

"I'll get right to the point," Jason said. "Your father was … laid to rest … with a bundle of data cards on Pinnacle Station that are encrypted in such a way that we can't access them. We think the information might be vital."

"Vital to what?" Tauless asked. Jason opened his mouth to speak and stopped. He actually had no idea what the hell they were chasing. The data cards didn't likely have any information regarding recent unrest or military buildups on Khepri, but it wasn't as if Vulban's kid would know any better.

"You've heard about what's happening on Khepri?" he asked. When Tauless crossed his hands, a Pruvian non-verbal sign to indicate “no,” he continued. "There's been a lot of unrest and a concerning military buildup … the battlesynths have all been recalled."

At this, Tauless's eyes closed and he seemed to be breathing hard. "My father thought this might happen at some point in the future," he said finally.

"So you'll help us?"

"We'll need to leave Zeta Vandor-6," Tauless said. "You have a ship? You can take me with you?"

"Out of the question," Jason said. "If you can just break the encryption for us we'll be on our way and then you can go back and home and try to get into your apartment." Tauless cocked his head questioningly at Jason's choice of phrasing as his representative once again asserted her authority.

"My client has something you want, you have something he wants," Ba'an said. "Tauless will not hand over any decryption routines he may or may not have without the reasonable assumption of payment."

"We can pay, but he's not coming with us," Jason insisted. "We're not a charter outfit. We have no idea where we may end up."

"But you're chasing down the mystery surrounding Combat Unit 777 and his lot mates," Tauless said. "Tell me … do you find it strange that he hasn't been affected by the recall? He has no impulse to return without question like the others. Wouldn't you like to know why? And if there are others like him?"

"You little shit," Jason ground out, knowing he'd been out-maneuvered. Tauless looked completely baffled, then disgusted, and finally offended at the human expression.

"Captain?" Lucky asked. Jason could hear the yearning in his voice.

"Kage, call Twingo and tell him to prep for immediate departure," Jason said before turning to Tauless. "Where are you hiding these decryption codes?"

"You'll take me with you?"

"You've backed me into a corner," Jason said. "We'll take you with us, but I make no guarantee about where we'll leave you. When this is over you might not like the place we'll drop you off at."

"Can't be any worse than this place," Tauless said. "Apologies, Nace."

"I don't like this moon any better than you." Ba'an smiled. "And once you're gone I'll have no reason to linger. The safeguards your father set in place all those years ago appeared to have been triggered, so my job is done."

"I have the codes with me, Captain," Tauless said, addressing Jason as Lucky had. "The sooner we leave the better."

"Let's go," Jason said. He was still irritated that some punk on this backwater moon had worked him so easily. When he turned to see if everyone was following he saw Lucky's fidgeting had increased and his friend looked like he was trying to look in every direction at once. Deciding not to ask in front of everyone what was wrong, he turned back and led the group out of the building and into the cool night.

Jason heard the double pop/whine as soon as he stepped into the outside floodlights and saw two pairs of crimson orbs staring back at him from the shadows of the next building. His blood turned to ice as his brain caught up and he realized what he was looking at—and what was looking back at him: battlesynths. Two of them.

"Contact!" he shouted and grabbed Tauless, lifting the pru and carrying him back into the building. Time slowed as his high-powered adrenal response charged his system and a fear like he'd never known gripped him. Two battlesynths in full combat mode facing off against them was the stuff of nightmares.

He heard another pop/whine and out of his peripheral vision saw Lucky pushing Crusher out of the way with his left hand, raising his right arm to bring his plasma cannon to bear. He fired just as both of the other battlesynths opened up, the plasma bolts ripping through the still night air and lighting up the scene in a hellish red. Lucky's first shot hit one target in the shoulder and spun it as the other’s flew wide, but he was off balance from pushing Crusher aside and took two full blasts in the chest. He was lifted off the ground and flung back through the thin alloy wall that served as a wind barrier for the hallway.

"Kage! We need air support. Get Twingo here now!" Jason barked as he tried to disentangle his weapon from the long jacket he'd worn to conceal it. The remaining battlesynth keyed in on him as the one giving commands and adjusted its fire, walking plasma bolts towards him. Jason turned and sprinted away, knowing that if he left his feet to dive out of the way he'd be a dead man. He felt the heat as two of the bolts caught the back of his trailing coat before he heard Crusher roar and open up with the plasma rifle he carried.

Skidding to a stop, Jason ripped the jacket off in three large chunks and brought his primary weapon around, sighting down at the battlesynth that Lucky had hit. Just as he squeezed the trigger it seemed to sense it was targeted and fired its repulsors, arcing high up over the fight as Jason's hypersonic railgun rounds tore into the building behind it.

"Shit!" Jason swore, unable to track it. Instead, he came around and tried to bracket the target Crusher was engaged with. The Galvetic warrior had taken cover behind what appeared to be a power service station for the lot vehicles, but it wasn't faring well under the constant onslaught. He was able to come around and fire a few answering blasts whenever the battlesynth paused to let its cannons cool, but he was running out of time.

"Phoenix is inbound!" Kage shouted as Jason fired at the battlesynth that had Crusher pinned down. In a feat that astounded him, it was able to twist its body, a move it must have started before he'd even fired, and the hypersonic round ricocheted of its chest with a shower of sparks.

"Screw this," Jason muttered and flicked the fire selector to “LOW VELOCITY” and held the trigger down, sending a sustained burst of the hardened ferrous projectiles towards his adversary. Caught with nowhere to go, the battlesynth emitted a shriek and turned to protect its face from the onslaught. Crusher didn't hesitate, stepping around the sparking charge station and opening up with his powerful plasma rifle, the brilliant bolts of energy exploding off the lower torso as the warrior went for a hip joint.

With another shriek the besieged battlesynth turned and ran through the wall of the nearest building. Jason and Crusher both stopped to let their weapons cool and to reload. The air around them reeked of burning plastic and ozone.

"Where did the first one go?" Crusher asked.

"Up and over," Jason said. "I couldn't track it. Pull back to the opening there and let's—" He was cut off as the ground directly in front of him erupted. The plasma bolt was off, and instead of taking him on the top of the head it hit a meter in front of him, the shockwave sending him tumbling. He dimly heard Crusher begin firing again and through the haze saw the first battlesynth descending slowly, riding on its repulsors and firing down while also taking away the limited cover they'd been using near the warehouse.

Jason struggled to shake off the cobwebs and climb to his feet as Crusher nimbly avoided being hit, but the closer the battlesynth got the harder it would be to dodge the incoming plasma. Even more unfortunate, the railgun he carried wasn't the easiest to aim at a small moving target even without recent head trauma. He focused and sighted on a point he thought the target would fly through and then opened fire. The rounds shrieked through the air, the first dozen or so missing, but a handful of impacts could be seen sparking in the night sky.

The battlesynth seemed to wobble in midair and, with another pop, the repulsor on its left foot exploded and it began to spin towards the ground, no longer able to control its descent. It slammed into the tarmac with a tremendous crash and sent bits of pavement and debris in all directions, forcing Jason to close his eyes as the shards peppered his exposed face. Crusher exploited the moment and began stalking towards the struggling battlesynth, opening fire with a long, sustained burst from his plasma rifle. Jason could hear its warbling cries as the plasma heated its armor to the point of failure and it sank back to the ground, now just trying to cover its head.

"331!" The shout came from behind Jason and to the right. By the time he spun around, he saw the other battlesynth charging at them and knew he wouldn't be able to get his weapon up in time. He prepared to lean into the charge and knew that even his reinforced skeleton would not likely save him from the bull rush.

When the battlesynth was ten meters away a blur from Jason's right slammed into it with the hard sound of metal on metal. Once the mass of alloy stopped tumbling Jason could see that Lucky had reentered the fray, looking none the worse for wear save the scorched and discolored chest armor. The two battlesynths faced off against each other for a split second before exploding into a flurry of motion. Jason had never witnessed anything like it in his life. They swung savage blows at each other with closed fists, knees, and feet that had enough power to cave in a starship's hull. The ferocity and speed of the fight left him breathless. Then it became dangerous for spectators as well.

After they'd tested each other hand-to-hand, each combatant decided to add their respective weaponry to the mix. Jason heard the whine of the plasma cannons even before they began firing. At close quarters and while still grappling with each other, Lucky and his opponent were trying to simultaneously land a killing shot while protecting themselves, but during this powerful plasma bolts were shot wildly in all directions.

"Take cover!" Jason roared and poured everything he had into getting back to the warehouse to make sure Kage was safe and that Tauless was out of the crossfire. He saw motion to his right and saw Crusher was closing in right after him even as three plasma bolts blasted a walkway off the building and send it crashing to the ground.

"Can we help him?" Crusher asked.

"I'd only make it worse," Jason had to shout to be heard over the battle. "I can't separate Lucky enough to take a shot. Where's your weapon?"

"Spent," Crusher shouted back. "Charging chamber ruptured trying to put that bastard down … and it's still alive!"

"Damnit!" Jason spun to sight in on the downed battlesynth with his railgun, flicking it to high-velocity mode to make certain of it … but it was gone. "You can't be serious! How the hell did it survive that?"

"Look out!" Crusher knocked him flat, falling on top of him as another errant bolt flew down the hallway and impacted a stationary loader, setting it ablaze. The sound of four more explosions reached Jason before he could untangle from Crusher and crawl back to look for Lucky.

His friend was still engaged closely with the other battlesynth, but there were signs he was winning. The left arm of Lucky's opponent seemed to be moving randomly of its own accord and the right knee was sparking. They came together in another flurry of hits that made Jason wince and he could see that Lucky was hanging back and picking his shots, waiting until he could drive home a hard hit to the facial armor of the other and then pulling back into a defensive posture.

The strategy seemed to be having an effect as after each hammering blow to the face the other battlesynth would appear momentarily disoriented, allowing Lucky to land one or two follow-up shots. Steam was pouring off the combatants in the cool night air as they fought by the light of the dozen or so building fires they'd set with their plasma weapons.

"Incoming!" Kage shouted from further back in the building just before the ground began to rumble and the Phoenix tore over the complex, pulling up into a steep climb as she overshot and angled around. Lucky used the distraction to smash his foot into his opponent’s damaged knee, dropping it. As the other struggled to rise, Lucky backed away a few meters.

"Now, Captain," his calm voice boomed across the lot from the amplification he'd put on it. Jason lined up the reticle on the head of the wounded battlesynth, let out a breath, and squeezed the trigger. The railgun roared and sent the hypersonic projectile straight through its head. There were no sparks or twitching about after the shot, it just crumpled over. Even in a fight for their lives Jason took no pleasure in killing the battlesynth. It had been a soldier following orders, not necessarily evil.

"Roll call!" he called out as he helped Crusher to his feet.

"I'm on my way down," Doc's voice came over the com. "I'm unharmed."

"I'm good," Kage said. "Tauless is unhurt, but Nace Ba'an took a plasma bolt to the head. It's pretty gross."

"I require noncritical repairs but am otherwise unharmed," Lucky said calmly as he walked up.

"I'm beat to shit but I'll live," Crusher said.

"We need to hurry," Twingo's voice came from all the com units simultaneously. "Local authorities have noticed you set the place on fire and the locals have been calling in with reports of explosions. I'll set down in the open area on the other side of the building you're standing near."

"You're sure you have everything you need?" Jason asked Tauless.

"Y-y-yes," the trembling pru finally managed to get out.

"Move it." Jason waved them all past him to where the Phoenix was settling down. With the fighting over he took a moment to look around at the collateral damage. If someone had told him that a thermobaric bomb had been detonated there he would have believed it. The havoc wreaked by just three battlesynths was more than a little frightening when he considered the fact Khepri had hundreds of them now at their command. Worse still, he had to assume they knew he was poking around the edges. It was highly doubtful two battlesynths just happened to be waiting here to ambush any random person that showed up. That complicated things for them quite a bit. He was more than willing to allow Lucky to chase this thread that tied into his past, but he didn't think he could put the others at risk by pitting Omega Force against whoever was pulling the strings on Khepri.

16

"How is he?"

"He'll be good as new in twelve hours or so," Twingo answered. He'd been pushing Jason off for the last two hours after their dramatic exit from Zeta Vandor-6. "His internal damage control systems are capable of correcting the issues without any help, but I've provided an external power source and some raw alloys from the fabricators. He's shut down his higher cognitive functions for now so there's no point in you trying to go in and talk to him."

"How bad was it?" Jason asked, yet another variation on the same question he'd already asked a dozen times before.

"Massive thermal damage to the primary upper torso armor to start with," Twingo said. "That's what the metal is for. That plasma shot he took was enough that it didn't simply distort the armor, it sublimated a significant portion of the alloy away. The unique nanobots he carries can break down the raw material and reform the armor pieces right on him; they even align the molecules properly to achieve the desired hardness level. Amazingly, that was the only significant weapon's fire damage he sustained save for a few minor proximity burns. His actual skin was fully intact.

"Most of the other damage was to his secondary and booster actuators. Wrestling and trading blows with something as strong as he is put a hell of a strain on those as well as his power and cooling systems … but he can correct that quickly on his own with no interference from me."

"We're going to need to come up with a better strategy if this mission includes close quarters combat with multiple battlesynths," Jason said. "Crusher and I were spectators most of the time, and I think the pair we faced might have come in underestimating us. We can't count on that in the future, and Lucky can't be expected to continually fight off multiple targets at once."

"Was that a request?"

"It was." Jason nodded and turned to leave. "When he wakes up I want you two working together to come up with better tactics and weapons. Be sure to take my heavy armor's capabilities into account since I'll damn sure be wearing it the next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" Twingo asked, his ears twitching.

"Since I don't think these two battlesynths had taken up mugging people in deserted shipping yards I have to assume they were monitoring Tauless, tracking us, or both," Jason said. "Any one of those points to another confrontation in the near future and likely with worse odds."

"Sounds like this is shaping up to be another fun one," Twingo sighed. "I'll see what I can come up with."

Jason left his friend and went to the infirmary to check on Crusher one more time. The big warrior had taken dozens of small wounds when the first battlesynth had been blasting at the power station he'd taken cover behind; shrapnel and bits of molten metal had peppered his tough skin enough that Doc had insisted on a workup. Crusher had then shocked everyone by agreeing without argument.

"You about ready to get off your lazy ass and help out around here?" Jason asked when the transparent door slid open.

"Oh aren't you just so funny," Crusher snarled. "Let me douse you with liquefied metal and see how you look."

When the Phoenix had been getting her latest upgrades Doc had lobbied for extensive improvements to the infirmary, and though it had ballooned the budget, Jason was glad he'd agreed. Crusher was floating twenty centimeters over the new bed Doc had ordered, one that was capable of gently levitating a patient via gravity manipulation that worked in conjunction with the ship's artificial gravity system. Since the burns covered the front and the back of the Galvetic warrior's torso, it allowed him to be treated while he wasn't lying on half the wounds, making them worse.

"No thanks," Jason said. "I was smart enough to get out of the way and not be pinned down."

"Any chance of getting one of these beds in my quarters?" Crusher asked. "I imagine they'd be a hell of a time … you know, recreationally."

"With that face I don't think you should worry too much about female companionship," Jason said.

"Doc said the burns will heal without a scar," Crusher shot back.

"Sure … why not?" Jason said. "Let's pretend I was talking about the burns."

"Hey!"

"If you just came in to harass my patient you can show yourself out, Captain," Doc said without looking up from the terminal in the corner.

"How's Lucky doing?" Crusher asked.

"Twingo says he'll be good to go physically in about twelve hours," Jason said. "He's asleep right now, for lack of a better term, so we'll see if he's ready for duty once he wakes up."

"Good," Crusher said. "Now, like Doc said, stop harassing me. I want to get back to sleep."

Jason left and went to the galley where their new passenger was eating some generic something from the food synthesizer with that thousand-yard stare that seemed to transcend species. He hadn't decided if Tauless was a friend, enemy, or hapless bystander yet, but for the immediate future he wasn't going to trust him blindly given what his crew had just gone through while trying to extract the little bastard.

"I'm sorry about your lawyer," he began, grabbing a bottle of water and sitting across from the pru. Upon further scrutiny Jason could see he probably wasn't nearly as young as he'd previously thought, which made sense given that Noyut Vulban was his father.

"Nace wasn't my lawyer," Tauless said, seeming to notice Jason for the first time. "She was a dear and loyal family friend that gave up everything to protect us."

"So let's start there," Jason said. "Why did you family need protecting? And do you mean to say that there are more of you left on that moon?"

"I don't know you, Captain," Tauless said. "Forgive me if I don't divulge all of my family's secrets just because you've managed to track down my father's final resting place. You could very well be working for the same people we've been hiding from."

"If that were the case I wouldn't need to know about what you're hiding from, would I?" Jason asked. "Look … I'm doing all this for my friend: the battlesynth lying unconscious in my engineering berth healing from the damage he took protecting you. I have no particular care for Krunt Teludal, Noyut Vulban, or the rest of it past tracking down some answers for his sake."

"Teludal?" Tauless asked. "You know of him?"

"Met him," Jason said. "We were attacked on Khepri when we went to see him. He was apparently being held prisoner in his own home and was near death, might be dead now, and he gave us your father's name. Some simple investigative work led us to Pinnacle Station where we found your father's remains resting in a communal crypt in the lower levels of the station."

"I'd hoped to eventually take him back to Khepri and lay him to rest in my family's shorka," Tauless sighed. Jason assumed the work his implant couldn't translate must have been equivalent to mausoleum. "But I suppose that's not going to be possible now. If you tracked me through his movements, others will as well."

"We're carrying your father's remains on this ship," Jason said. "Once we'd breached the crypt I didn't feel right about leaving them there. The vessel is sitting in a padded case in our armory right now."

The wash of emotions that flowed over Tauless's face told Jason his instincts had been correct in grabbing the sealed urn.

"We will of course take you to Khepri with him once we're sure it's safe."

"I … you have not done an insignificant thing here, Captain," Tauless said once he'd composed himself. "I realize that the respect paid to the corporeal remains of our ancestors may seem silly and superstitious among other advanced species, but it’s something we hold dear nonetheless."

"You'll get no judgment from me," Jason said. "And your father's remains are yours with no strings attached, but I'm still hoping you'll help us by providing enough answers to at least get us moving in the right direction again."

"I will try to help as much as I can," Tauless said. "It may not be much … I've been isolated on Zeta Vandor-6 for many five-cycles."

"Anything is better than where we're at now," Jason assured him. "Go ahead and get some rest and we'll talk later."

Jason felt marginally better after the conversation, but still set the Phoenix's internal sensors to closely monitor their passenger, authorizing the computer to stun him if it decided he was poking around in things that he shouldn't.

"COLONEL, do you have a team operating parallel to the intel gathering efforts you've previously informed me of?" Sorlotta Arx demanded. The Eshquarian Minister stomped into Mok's office without invitation, something that lesser people would be seriously punished for.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Arx," Mok said, refusing to use the proper title for someone he so despised.

"You had agreed to gather intelligence for me on a certain, specific matter. I have received word that a rogue mercenary team that you're known to have ties to has just abducted a person of interest," Arx nearly shouted. "The amount of destruction they caused during their assault has alerted certain parties to the situation that we'd have preferred remained in the dark. Were these animals acting on your orders?"

"You'll have to be far more specific, General," Mok said.

"It's Minister. And I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Sorry," Mok said with a helpless shrug. "I have one of my best teams in the field scouring for intel regarding a Khepri military buildup. Anything else I would need specific details before I would want to comment either way. I can tell you the team that works for me has made no assaults or abductions."

"I came to you in good faith, Colonel," Arx said. "If you're using another crew as a way to get me rattled or pursue your own agenda, you'd best rethink your tactics. We can agree to loathe each other, but even you must realize that being on the winning side when the dust settles is worth putting aside vendettas for." Arx didn't wait for a reply and stomped to the door, still just as agitated as when he'd come in.

"A word of caution, Arx," Mok called, his voice carrying a brittle edge. "Remember where you are and who I am. If you ever come in here and speak to me in such a manner again I will personally remove your head from your body and ship it back to your pretty young mate. After that I will provide evidence to the Eshquarian government of Third General Maasch's involvement in illegal arms manufacturing and the genetic proof they'll need to make sure your family line lives in disgrace for a thousand years. Am I clear?"

Arx stiffened, trembling, but refused to turn around. He yanked the ornate door open and made a hasty retreat before Mok could continue.

As soon as the door closed and locked, Mok activated the holographic display built into his desk and began combing through the reports Syodo had been sending. He knew that his team wasn't actually the one out there abducting people, but he hoped that maybe they'd stumbled upon something that would explain Burke's actions. Unsurprisingly, they had not. In fact, they seemed to be chasing their own tail. He sighed and pulled up another window, making a note to himself to track down someone that had been a former investigator or intelligence operative to augment his team. He had to admit to himself that the mistake was his own. He hired a bunch of hard case ex-operator types from different services and then expected them to be able to handle situations none of them were trained for.

Once he'd verified his own people were only flying around wasting fuel he pulled up his private secure slip-com node and punched in the address he had for Burke's ship. He flagged it as high-priority, hoping that Burke wouldn't pull his normal routine of ignoring him until he felt like responding.

"Mok, how are things?" Burke said, answering the channel request after a shockingly short amount of time.

That alone made Mok suspicious. "As well as can be expected," he said carefully. "I must admit I didn't actually expect you to answer in real time."

"I was already in the com room working on something," Burke answered. "Contrary to belief I don't actually ignore you out of principle. I get to things as time allows. Anyway, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of seeing your smiling face?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Some," Burke admitted. "Not relevant though. I assume you're calling about the incident on Zeta Vandor-6?"

Mok paused, typing in the world's name into his terminal to see what a Nexus search dragged up. The first thing he saw from Zeta Vandor's local media outlets was that someone had practically destroyed a shipping company’s logistics yard.

"Of course," Mok lied smoothly. "I assume there was a reason for you shooting up some poor bastard's shipping yard?"

Burke's eyes narrowed a bit. "You didn't get that from any of your sources, did you?" he asked. "You're fishing."

"Please just tell me what happened," Mok sighed. "I thought you were tracking down leads regarding the Khepri mobilization."

"We are. One of those leads took us to Zeta Vandor-6 … the son of one of the people involved with the battlesynth program before it was shut down was hiding out there," Burke said. "Now this is where it gets interesting: When we were at the initial meeting with him we were attacked … by a pair of battlesynths."

"You're joking," Mok scoffed.

"Wish I was. We were damn lucky that we didn't lose anyone. Lucky took some minor damage, but one of the battlesynths escaped. Whoever sent them has to know that we're sniffing around something they want to keep hidden; the problem is that we have no idea what that might be. Once our passenger wakes up we'll begin debriefing him and see what we can find out."

"If someone has battlesynths at their disposal to use on something as soft as a civilian target I think it's safe to say we're not chasing specters. There has to be something significant to the rumors we're hearing," Mok mused.

"I think it's worse than that," Burke said. "What if it was because someone had so many battlesynths at their disposal that they could afford to deploy a pair just to keep an eye on the kid and wait to see who showed up?"

"That means someone in the Kheprian government," Mok said. He realized with great annoyance that Syodo likely wouldn't have been able to make that connection. "So whomever you're carrying right now knows something about what they might be up to."

"Likely he doesn't," Burke said. "He probably knows something that he doesn't realize is of significance to the current situation, but it's enough that they wanted to make sure he didn't talk to anyone. His tangential attachment to the battlesynth program can't be unrelated."

"Agreed," Mok said. "So you'll contact me when you have something solid?"

"I will," Burke nodded. "No games either. We'll agree to work together on this until it's over or we need to pull the plug on our end. It seems like it might be too big for my little crew to handle by ourselves."

"I appreciate—" Mok stopped talking once he realized Burke had terminated the channel on his end after he'd stopped talking. He leaned back, taking Burke's habitual rudeness in stride, and considered what this new information could mean.

Not just anyone could order battlesynths onto missions. They were fully sentient, didn't like operating in a command structure outside their own small units, and had an ingrained distrust of outsiders. Lucky was an anomaly and Mok was certain it was only his fierce loyalty to Jason Burke that kept him from leaving Omega Force to seek out his own lot-mates and rejoin them.

He also knew that even after they matured most synths regarded their pru creators as demigods, still referring to them as “Masters.” The battlesynths particularly seemed to want to be in close proximity to Khepri as much as possible, so for the incident Burke described he could only agree that someone within the Kheprian military hierarchy must have deployed the pair that attacked them.

"This just became a lot more complicated," Mok grumbled as he pressed a button to summon the assistant that was sitting right outside the expansive office.

"Sir?"

"Recall Syodo's team and begin calling in all the Twelve Points," Mok said.

"I obey," the assistant said with a half-bow before leaving. It had taken Mok a bit to realize the expression was a cultural peculiarity; his assistant wasn't actually groveling. He was extremely good at what he did, so Mok learned to live with his initial discomfort. Despite his reputation to the contrary he was not at all interested in being fawned over or even feared; he much preferred the results that came from a team not afraid to contradict their boss or deliver him news that would anger him.

When he'd first seized the opportunity to take over Bondrass's sizeable empire he had to move quickly to keep it from splintering off on its own or having his competitors take bites from around the edges. It was simply too much for a single person, so he brought in people he trusted, twelve from the same shadowy branch of Eshquarian Intelligence that he came from, and put them in charge of most aspects of his operation. They were the “points” of the star that was the symbol of Mok's organization, its stylized likeness emblazoned on his ships as a warning to any who might think one of his freighters looked like a target of opportunity.

What almost nobody but those close to him realized was that he wasn't operating Bondrass's holdings with the goal of simply enriching himself or amassing power for power's sake itself. While an active member of Eshquarian Intelligence he'd always cultivated contacts within the underworld to get information, and he came to the realization that they knew about things happening long before he ever would depending solely on traditional sources.

Information was power, and the bosses of the quadrant’s criminal element realized that long ago. Bondrass's intelligence apparatus was as impressive as it was expansive. Once he'd gotten a handle on just how capable it was, Mok had wasted no time in expanding it. It was now his number one export and it had made him so much money that he'd been able to begin withdrawing himself from the distasteful narcotics and trafficking trades. He was by no means a saint and had to maintain a presence in these industries to keep his channels of communication open, but bringing Bondrass's expansive slave trade to a close had helped assuage his conscience.

"Sir, the Points would like to know if you require them to present themselves in person or if slip-com will suffice?" He hadn't even heard his assistant come back in.

"Tell them they'll need to come to me," Mok said after a moment's thought. "Nothing can be left for chance in this."

"I obey."

Mok had nothing definite to hang his feelings on, but he was getting the sense that something big was in the works, something that even his vast network had missed. If he was right, he'd want his most trusted people close and couldn't risk that his encryption had been compromised by interacting with them via a thirteen-way slip-com channel.

The more he considered whom the major players seemed to be, the more he hoped his instincts were wrong.

17

"You don't have to watch this if you don't want," Jason said.

"I feel I must," Tauless said, though he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. They were gathered in the lounge of the Phoenix as she loafed through slip-space on a lazy course back towards Khepri. Once he'd agreed to help unlock all the data cards they'd found in his father's crypt by providing the necessary contextual keywords it hadn't taken Kage long to develop a master algorithm that devoured them in a single pass, spitting out enough raw data to keep a team of analysts busy for a year.

Fortunately Vulban had also left a set of clearly labeled videos, the first of which was of him sitting at a cluttered desk explaining the organizational system he used before compressing the data. It would make sifting through it that much easier, but it was still a lot and other than reaching out to the Cridal Cooperative Jason didn't have the resources to tackle it all. He sure as hell didn't trust Saditava Mok enough to hand it over just yet.

Once they learned all of the videos were the same sort of lecture-style instructional given by Vulban himself, Jason had told Kage to pipe it down to the lounge and called in everyone so they could go through it together. Lucky was up and about and seemed no worse for wear other than being unusually quiet, even by his standards. His new chest armor lacked all the scratches and micro pitting and had a fresh coat of matte black smart-skin on it making him appear as if he’d just rolled off the assembly line. Tauless was obviously invited as his impressions were the most important, but Jason didn't want to seem callous and at least gave the appearance that he sympathized with someone about to watch their father from beyond the grave.

"It's probably important that I be here to give background," Tauless said.

"Agreed," Jason said. "Roll it Kage."

"Roll what?"

"The first video."

"How do you—"

"Just play the damn file!"

"Greetings," the voice of Noyut Vulban began. "If you are watching this I will assume that you've either earned the trust of those I've left the decryption key with or have devised a way to slice it yourself. Either way, I will be giving a blunt and unvarnished accounting of myself, my team, and what we did. I can only hope that if these files have been located that it isn't because our worst fears have come to pass and our creations have been unleashed for ill.

"My name is Noyut Vulban. I was a research scientist for the synth program working under the direction of Krunt Teludal, one of the most brilliant minds I've ever known. Our function was twofold: First we would usher specialized lots into consciousness and assess the success or failures of the changes made to the primary processing matrix. Second, we would study these units long-term and interact with them closely in order to make adjustments to the process on future lots.

"The reason for this was that despite the maturity of the program and success of synth units already in use, we've yet to understand why each matrix comes through the creation process so unique and unrepeatable. Corporate headquarters wants to improve the woefully inadequate yields of the current generation and we think if we can get the matrix stable and duplicable in the initial stages we not only won't have so much loss, but the integration steps will be more routine and streamlined."

"Pause!" Jason said.

"Nothing we didn't already know here," Twingo said with a shrug. "The synth program was a corporate endeavor to create working machines. The fact that their full-sentience was an accident isn't necessarily a secret."

"But what is he saying about low yields?" Jason asked.

"The primary processing matrix of a synth is still a mystery even to those who designed and produced them," Tauless spoke up. "I suppose the best way to describe it is that they're grown more than produced and the necessary looseness in the parameters given to the machine during fabrication results in wide variations."

"I guess there's an obvious reason they didn't more strictly control the parameters, but why don't you go ahead and explain that too," Jason said.

"Every attempt to do so resulted in the total loss of a lot," Tauless said. "The first successful attempt at a stable matrix resulted from an experiment a research crew ran when they widened the tolerances well past what would be acceptable for any sort of mass production."

"Interesting," Jason said. "Resume!"

"Don't you mean roll it?"

"Crusher, hit him."

There was a sharp smack from somewhere in the darkened room accompanied by a squeal of pain, but the video continued.

"We did begin to notice that each successful lot did seem to have uniform personality traits within that lot once they emerged," Vulban's likeness continued. "This led us to develop more specialized units and, ultimately, to something I wish we'd never agreed to create: battlesynths." Jason looked over quickly to see how Lucky took the news that basically one of his parents wished he'd never been born. As always, his friend sat impassively.

"It was an idea that we could market them as security enforcers, but in the overzealousness of the mechanization group the body that was developed was overpowered and, in our opinion, far too dangerous to just hand over without controls.

"In the accompanying data you'll find the specs on the internal and external inhibition protocols we built into most battlesynths. These not only keep them in check while allowing them to operate autonomously but also give the buyer the option to remotely shut down weaponry or recall units from the field. A small concession, to be sure, but it was the best we could do. The mind of a synth is not easily restrained and we warned Corporate that overuse of the inhibition methods would only lead to them discovering ways to circumvent it.

"While Teludal was sickened by the synth matrixes he brought through awakening being put into battlesynth bodies, I viewed it with a more pragmatic eye. If we gave Corporate something they wanted badly enough we'd be able to continue our research … I felt he developed an unhealthy attachment to each unit as the years passed. But then came my own moral quandary: Lot 700."

"Pause," Lucky said.

What is it?" Jason asked.

"Do you remember my designation?"

"Sure, Combat Unit 777," Twingo said.

"That's right, Captain," Tauless said. "He's the missing member of Lot 700."

"And by your words I assume that my lot-mates are no more?" Lucky asked.

"No, they're still alive," Tauless said. "But you went missing and they were never able to account for your whereabouts."

"Please resume," Lucky said.

"Lot 700 awakened during the political upheaval that led to the decision that we would no longer be allowed to produce battlesynths. Early deployments had led to a level of collateral damage that the government found unacceptable, and the press sensationalized the events as much as they could. To be honest, I simply think the effectiveness of the battlesynth units terrified them; it's one thing to have a weapon of such power at your disposal … it's quite another when that weapon has a will of its own. There were of course some early and widely publicized … misunderstandings … when battlesynths were first allowed out into the public. We'd corrected the issue with our conditioning program, but these incidents were never forgotten.

"The company agreed that after the last lot of battlesynths they would close down and dismantle the mechanical line so no more bodies could be produced. The Kheprian government agreed and gave us a strict deadline on when the last battlesynth could be built; the problem was that we had no suitable matrixes for the bodies that were left. Lot 700 was just beginning to emerge and had been classified as Type Four, completely ill-suited for battlesynth duty. Type Four matrixes exhibited calm, calculating demeanors and an intelligence that put them above even the Type Two matrixes that served as administrative assistants and surrogates. Type Fours were exceedingly rare, only three lots total ever emerged, and were able to become scientists, researchers, even artists … the possibilities seemed endless.

"Corporate had no such sentiment. To them a synth matrix was a product that they owned and could do with as they pleased. They ordered Teludal to use Lot 700 to complete the remaining battlesynths within the deadline. Teludal resisted and was threatened with termination and punitive action if he didn't comply. I convinced him that we could do more for them if we appeared to go along with the demand."

"Pause!" Doc called out.

"Now what?" Crusher demanded, apparently really getting into the story and somewhat oblivious about its implications for his best friend standing behind him.

"Lucky, have you always known about your … uniqueness?" Doc asked. "I'm aware of the five different synth matrix classifications … did you know you were a Type Four?"

"I am aware that I am not the same as other battlesynths I have encountered," Lucky said. "But I was not aware of the exact reason for this."

"Synths aren't told their classification for a reason," Tauless interjected. "We felt they needed to be free to self-determine the same as any other sentient species. It's especially delicate in beings that will live for so long: A synth may change functions dozens of times over the span of its life."

"We?" Kage asked.

"Forgive me," Tauless chuckled. "I've been so immersed in my father's work from such an early age that sometimes I forget that I didn't actually work in the synth program."

"Are they still producing new synths?" Jason asked.

"Yes," Tauless said slowly. "But in much fewer numbers and only basic 'helper' body types."

"What if they produce a Type Three lot and there are no battlesynth bodies to put them in?" Doc asked.

"The matrixes are … destroyed … after they emerge," Tauless said, the anguish plain in his voice. The room sat in a stunned silence for a moment, nobody daring to even look in Lucky's direction.

"Please resume, Kage," the battlesynth said after a tortured minute.

"In order to give those of Lot 700, individuals we'd all become quite fond of, the best chance at realizing their potential, Teludal and I devised a plan to limit the amount of control that could be imposed on them," Vulban said when the video lurched back into motion. "We recruited help from the mechanical staff and quickly made a set of inhibiter modules and transponders that would pass all inspections without issue but would have one critical flaw: They would not actually be able to influence or disable the battlesynth they were installed in.

"The units themselves would have no idea that they were different than those around them, but eventually, if they so chose, they would be allowed to go their own way and nobody could stop them. There is more technical data on what we did in the provided documents." At this point Vulban paused and rubbed at his ears with both hands, looking very stressed and worn down.

"There is something else, something that I'll get to in the other videos and documents in this bundle," he went on. "During our scramble to protect Lot 700 from being misused their entire life, we stumbled upon a set of secondary protocols built into the subsystems of all the other battlesynths that gives cause for concern.

"Built into the inhibiter units is an adaptive algorithm that, once active, allows whoever is in control to override the battlesynth’s own moral and ethical foundations, essentially turning it into an indiscriminate killing machine. We were unable to find out who ordered this or why … but our inquiries have alerted them to what we did. I am now on the move with my family to stay ahead of whomever they will send for me. Teludal stayed on Khepri, determined to expose what he sees as a complete betrayal of what the synth program was supposed to be. I fear I will learn of his death sooner than later, as the people who did this likely won't have any compunction about silencing one troublemaking scientist.

"If you're watching this … please know that we did what we could."

"I think we should go ahead and call it a night," Jason said when the video stopped and the lights in the lounge came back up. "This is … a lot to process. We still have twenty-six hours before we need to make a decision on course change or destination, so let's take the time to rest and then start going through the other data."

The others consented and began filing out of the lounge, each member of the crew stopping to either offer words of comfort or a supporting hand for Lucky before retreating to their quarters. Jason watched closely but couldn’t see any obvious sign that the battlesynth had been affected by news that, had similar been given to a human, would have been nothing short of life-shattering.

"You know what I'm about to ask," he said once everyone else was gone.

"I can assure you, Captain, that my performance will not be affected by what we have heard," Lucky said.

"And you know that I don't give a damn about your job performance, Lucky," Jason shot back. "My only concern is how this is affecting you personally. This is still your mission … if you want to continue on, we will. If not, we'll send a final report to Mok and head home."

"I have thought often of my lot-mates," Lucky said after a pregnant pause. "I never knew what happened to them once I had been captured. So far my efforts to locate any of them since you freed me have been unsuccessful. If it would be acceptable, I would see this through to the end."

"Then we're in until the end," Jason said.

Lucky didn’t respond. He stared at Jason for a moment and then turned towards the stairs for the command deck to take his shift on the bridge. The video had sent a cold chill down Jason's spine and he was trying to stay positive for his friend's sake, but if someone had the ability to override nearly every battlesynth's freewill and turn them loose on someone it didn't bode well. Worse still, given they'd been recalled, an event without precedent, he had to assume there was a significant risk someone planned to do just that.

While they were all caught up in the details of Lucky's past and the intrigue surrounding the battlesynth program, Jason was concerned they were missing the point entirely. This wasn't happening by random chance; someone was pulling a lot of strings, and so far all they had were some vague notions of an attack on a Kheprian computing center. What if the battlesynth recall really was just a reasonable response to a credible threat and they were out chasing the wrong thing? More to the point, would they even want to chase anything with enough juice to mount an attack on one of the ConFed's Pillar Worlds?

"This isn't going to end well," he muttered before trudging back to his quarters.

LUCKY STOOD ON THE BRIDGE, watching the simulated star field streak by. The video had been devastating for him. He'd always wondered more about where he fit into the universe, but to watch a Master describe him as a product and in terms of profit and loss had destroyed any notion he might have had about one day being an equal among biological species. He would always be a technological oddity. A fortuitous accident that had resulted in a pile of credits for the corporation that had built him. Was there any real reason to care what happened to him now?

"Hey."

Lucky turned and saw Kage walking onto the bridge. The Veran walked over and slouched into one of the sensor station seats, making some pretense about bringing up and checking on their speed and position.

"Was there something you needed, Kage?" Lucky asked, much preferring to be alone at that moment.

"Did I ever tell you about growing up on Ver?" Kage asked.

"Kage, I am not sure that right now is—"

"So I was in the back third of all the offspring my parents had," Kage went on as if he hadn't heard Lucky's protest. "Verans are unbelievably prolific. My parents, or some combination of parents of which one was mine, gave birth to thirty or thirty-one children … they were still at it when I left. Imagine that considering that all Verans procreate with the same enthusiasm and we only have one planet. It's some hardwired evolutionary holdover that our government is helpless to stem. My species didn't evolve from apex predators like Crusher's. Likely we'd have been their food source.

"Anyway … growing up it was obvious that my parents weren't overly concerned if I made it to adulthood or not. I don't hold it against them; no Veran parent is overly attached to their children since the solution is always to just have more. But I had the misfortune of living near a consulate in one of the sub-capitals and I would regularly watch how other species would dote and fret on their offspring. It led me to an existential crisis at a fairly young age. Why did my life not matter and the Eshquarian child's did? Did it make me less of a being? Was I disposable in the eyes of the galaxy?"

"And you feel I am experiencing the same existential crisis right now because of what a long-dead research scientist has said?" Lucky asked.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't." Kage didn’t shy away from the matter. "Your family may not be of the conventional biological type, but it's there nonetheless. The Masters were your parents and your lot-mates siblings. To hear a parent talk about you in such callous terms is painful."

"I suppose you have some advice on how I come to terms with these feelings you seem to think I have?"

"Not really." Kage shrugged and looked away. "How many times do you think you've saved my life?"

Even as intelligent as Lucky was he sometimes had trouble tracking a conversation with the flighty little code slicer. "There could be some argument regarding some of the instances as the others were also involved, but for the sake of brevity we can say I have saved your life fifty-seven times," he said.

"My family never did once and it wasn't for lack of opportunity," Kage said. "It's the same with the others on board … you're all my family. It no longer matters that my own parents didn't care if I lived or died, because you do. It's a powerful thing to realize that there is a place where you matter and belong. A place where you'll be accepted and forgiven even when you screw up and where others depend on you as much as you do on them."

Lucky wasn't sure how to respond. Kage seldom opened up and showed even a glimmer of vulnerability.

"Well, goodnight." Kage hopped out of the seat and flicked the terminal off. "Hope it's a boring watch."

"Kage—"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Lucky said after struggling to find the right words.

"For what?"

The smartass was firmly back in place now and the Veran strolled off the bridge looking like he didn't have a care in the world. Lucky remembered Jason had once described Kage as a younger sibling who would act up intentionally and take the heat from everyone just to promote family cohesion. At the time it made no sense to a battlesynth that hadn't experienced a lengthy adolescence, but he now saw what his friend meant. Despite the endless bickering and insults, Kage took his job very seriously, and that job was to make sure they all stayed together.

His thoughts for the rest of the night watch were much different than when he'd first walked onto the bridge. Kage had been able to give him a focus and clarity on what was important. It didn't matter how he came into this universe, it only mattered what he did with his time in it. Protecting his crew, his family, was more important than dredging up a past he couldn't change. Moreover, if one were to look at the nature of evolution, they were all creations of chance and accident. What did it matter if his was in a laboratory instead of a puddle of primordial sludge?

18

Saditava Mok paced his office like a caged animal. Against all odds his last conversation with Jason Burke had been genuinely productive and even now Omega Force was flying to his location for a face to face meeting to divulge what they'd learned.

Burke had indicated that they had no smoking gun but had gathered enough periphery evidence that someone with Mok's resources and connections might be able to—how did he put it?—connect the dots. Mok was practically buzzing with anticipation knowing that usually when the human claimed he'd “found something” he was greatly understating the case.

To make his waiting worse, the Phoenix was overdue by more than a full day and there had been no further contact. Give the distance they had to travel that wasn't any reason for concern, but with Mok stuck planetside waiting on them it was nearly driving him mad. So far his own network had yet to turn up anything conclusive save for some unusual fleet deployments by the Eshquarians, an uncharacteristically quiet Saabror Protectorate, and the emergence of a new spacefaring species on the scene that had some impressively advanced starships. He'd been shocked to find out that the new players were the same species as Jason Burke, a coincidence he couldn't simply dismiss out of hand. For all of that he still had no real idea what was happening on Khepri, or about to happen to Khepri.

"Sir, Syodo's team has meshed in and is approaching the planet," his assistant announced.

"Syodo? What's he doing here?" Mok asked. "Did he say what the issue is?"

"They are not answering channel requests.”

"Maybe they took some damage," Mok mused. Something was off. His instincts were tingling, almost a physical sensation, and telling him that danger was close. "Let's have them land at the Thetta Complex. If they don't acknowledge the order, I want you to send out ships to intercept and escort them in."

"I obey."

Syodo popping into the system unannounced was strange enough on its own, but to not respond to multiple queries raised some alarms. Had the ship been commandeered and someone was using it to infiltrate his base?

"That's what I pay competent people for," he said to himself, pushing the matter from his mind. The Twelve Points were also inbound and he expected the first of them to arrive shortly after Burke did, so he would be getting little rest as be juggled meetings and coordinated efforts between everyone. For the short term he wanted to keep Omega Force and the Twelve Points separated. He'd carefully cultivated his relationship with Burke and there were a couple of his underlings who wouldn't be above trying to recruit him directly and a few others that would see Burke as a threat to their position. They'd either try to sabotage the thin thread of trust he'd spun or, in the case of the less intelligent, try to eliminate Burke and end up getting themselves killed.

"Sir, we have dispatched two fighters to intercept Syodo's ship. They still fail to answer channel queries or navigational requests," the assistant said. Mok's eyes narrowed to slits and his ears flattened.

"Where is Sorlotta Arx?" he asked, his voice harsh, almost growling. The assistant, unruffled by his boss's obvious anger, spoke into his com unit.

"Minister Arx is no longer on the compound, sir. He was not tracked as per your—"

"I know what I said, Similan," Mok snarled. "Find him! And lock this place down … nobody in or out until we find out what is going on."

"I obey." Similan bowed and quickly retreated.

Mok knew something was afoot now. Arx, a full Eshquarian Minister, had been slinking around for months trying to get him to commit his resources to some vague plan that would bring glory and riches to the Empire and those that helped her. Now he had vanished just when his own tactical team's ship pops up in the system and refuses to answer Mok, and conveniently right before the Twelve Points were scheduled to arrive. He hadn’t survived as long as he did in the espionage game because he foolishly ignored his instincts.

"Sir! Four Eshquarian heavy combat shuttles have appeared in the system and are taking up formation behind Syodo's ship. They've fired on our fighters," Similan shouted from the office foyer where he was frantically coordinating with their forces.

"So this is the game, is it, Arx?" Mok whispered. "Recall our emergency fast-response force and get everyone into the bunkers. By the time I get down there I want an open slip-com channel to Captain Jason Burke's ship."

"I ob—"

"Move it, Similan!"

Mok was already running for the hidden door that concealed the high-speed lift that would drop him into a hardened bunker below and south of the compound. He lived in constant risk from this sort of attack, since as someone who was trying to give the appearance of being a legitimate businessman he couldn't very well have plasma cannon turrets and warships parked all around his estate. Instead, he'd opted to keep a fast-action fleet at a secret base a short slip-space flight away and had bunkers built throughout the property that would allow him and the staff to weather an attack until they arrived.

The other layer of protection was that, even with the veneer of respectability, everyone knew exactly who he was and what would happen if they were foolish enough to strike at him. They, their families, and anyone they'd enjoyed a sunny afternoon cookout with would be dead within days. Unfortunately that only worked with other criminals. It appeared that an emissary of the Eshquarian Empire was moving against him and governments weren't quite so afraid of a crime boss outside of their borders.

"Let's go," he said as Similan sprinted into the lift car. The assistant keyed in the security code to activate the lift and within half a second the doors snapped closed and the car accelerated down so aggressively that Mok almost felt like he was floating. "Someone will pay dearly for this."

"Yes, sir," Similan said, sounding almost as feral as his boss. "Yes they will."

"SLIP-COM CHANNEL request coming in from Saditava Mok," Kage said.

"What the hell? We're barely an hour away from meshing-in." Jason yawned. "The man has no patience. Put the old gasbag on."

"You're on," Kage said.

"Mok, we're almost—"

"We're under attack, Captain Burke." Mok's voice came through as if he was in a tunnel. "We have four inbound heavy attack shuttles with an unknown ground complement as well as one of my own runabouts that I suspect has been commandeered flying in."

"What are your defenses?" Jason asked, shaking off his grogginess.

"Minimal. A handful of Spirro-class fighters and some light ground-to-air cannons," Mok said. "I have a quick response fleet coming in, but they're some hours out yet; in the meantime we're in a hardened bunker waiting for them to arrive. I'm messaging you to warn you off … my fleet can handle it easily and I didn't want you stumbling into what is undoubtedly an internal security matter."

"I appreciate the concern, but you're forgetting one thing," Jason said.

"That being?"

"We live for this shit," Jason said with a wide smile. "Stand by, we'll be there within … twenty minutes."

"Now wait a minute, Captain. I have this—"

"Close channel," Jason told Kage as he commanded the slip-drive to eighty percent. "Doc, please take over here while I go down and get my party clothes on."

"We gonna see some ground action?" Crusher perked up.

"Looks like it," Jason said as he walked off the bridge.

"Yes!!"

"DAMN HIM!" Mok fumed. "Do you know why he's doing this?"

"I do not, sir," Similan said.

"It's so I'll owe him," Mok said, smacking the table. "So far I've done everything as a sort of investment and haven't really pressed him to reciprocate, but if he swoops in and saves us that basically zeros out the ledger."

"Maybe they really do just relish combat, sir," Similan offered. "He seemed quite excited."

"Oh, they're probably very excited," Mok said in disgust. "At least three of them will be. We'll be lucky if the damn building is still standing when they're done saving us. Where are the—"

"Incoming message from Syodo's ship," Similan interrupted. "Shall I put it on?"

"Please."

"Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Colonel," Minister Sorlotta Arx said. "This could have been avoided if you'd been a little more agreeable to the common good, but I think the window has closed on that opportunity."

"What are you talking about, Arx?" Mok snarled. "And why are you aboard one of my ships?" He already knew the answer at this point, but he wanted to hear it from the source.

"Messy business trusting your affairs to mercenaries." Arx laughed. "It's a no-win situation. People who take money to kill aren't usually the sort to have any real loyalty. Syodo has been an asset of ours for some time. It was through him that I learned you had summoned your Twelve Points, so now the time for cajoling and pleading is over.

"Unfortunately I've told you too much to allow you simply to remain here playing gangster. I'm genuinely sorry about this, Colonel. I've always held you in high regard and hoped that we'd be able to work together once again."

"Channel has terminated at the source," Similan said.

Mok didn't answer. He slumped into his overstuffed chair as the first rumbles of weapons fire hitting the compound filtered down. How had he been so easily played? It was because he made the mistake of assuming he knew Arx and his motivations based on their previous encounters. He also had to admit that maybe an overinflated sense of his own position, not to mention his status as “untouchable,” might have led to the current crisis. Arx was a full Minister of the Eshquarian Empire … squishing Mok like an insect because he was a loose end and flying back home would be all in a day’s work.

The combat shuttles continued to hammer away at the compound's main structure while Mok and his staff huddled helplessly within the bunkers. He doubted that they were packing enough firepower to breach even the outer armor jacket of the bunker complex, but it still effectively trapped him until help came.

Even more unfortunate, at least for the duration of their current predicament, the planet Mok had chosen as a base of operations had no military of its own and was only loosely associated within a common defense alliance. It made it an attractive place to operate a quasi-legal enterprise from, but it also meant that as far as defense went if you didn't bring it with you, it didn't exist.

"One of the shuttles has been destroyed," Similan reported.

"Our guns get lucky?"

"No, sir. Our ground emplacements have already been neutralized," Similan said. "Perhaps—another one just went down. I can't identify the cause."

"I think we can assume the Phoenix has made an appearance," Mok deadpanned. As if to emphasize his words, the steady rumble of weapons fire above was punctuated with a tremendous boom that made everyone flinch and caused dust to rain down from the light fixtures.

"HOLY SHIT! Did you see that?" Jason shouted as the Phoenix rocketed over Saditava Mok's compound and past the tumbling wreckage of the second combat shuttle. The first he’d downed with a surprise missile shot from just over the horizon, the second he hit with the main cannons as it slogged around from a hover to meet their supersonic charge.

"Mountain!" Kage screamed.

"Shit," Jason grunted and snatched the stick into his lap while chopping the throttle. The Phoenix groaned under the g-load as she fought inertia, flipping up into a vertical climb. Jason rolled her to port and knife-edged between the two jutting peaks before pulling back again and continuing the loop around, advancing the throttle at the apex of his turn.

"Last three targets?" he asked.

"TWO TARGETS," Doc said. "That larger runabout has set down behind the outer wall of the compound."

"One target is hauling for orbit fast," Kage said. "Second is coming about to face us, six hundred kilometers over the ocean. I think he's going to try and sneak in under us the same as we did to the first two."

"Unimaginative," Jason said and hauled the Phoenix down from high subsonic. "Launch both twins, quickly. Give them do not engage orders and have them scout around where that ship landed."

Kage didn't reply as he worked with lightning efficiency, all four hands dancing over his station, programming the two multi-mission drones the Phoenix carried for their task. Jason saw that Doc had automatically assumed tactical duties from his station so he kept an eye on the threat board and for any surprises like the first clown trying to drop a missile on him from low orbit.

"Twins are away," Kage said.

With the Phoenix in full combat mode, Jason didn't detect the clunks of the drones launching from their cradles, but on his status board he saw the hatches were closing back up and he was green to full inter-atmospheric velocity.

"Hang on," he said, slamming the throttle down. "Ungh."

The inertial compensation provided by the artificial gravity system was woefully inadequate compared to the forces the new grav-drive could generate. They were all slammed back into their seats, the deck where Lucky had anchored himself buckled with a tortured shriek, and all manner of things crashing could be heard from the main deck.

"Whoo!" Jason cried in delight as his ship thundered across the landscape and out over the water. He used the trim switch on the top of the stick to bring the nose up a few degrees as their speed continued to climb.

"Jason!" Twingo warned.

"I know, I know." Jason relented and pulled the throttle back. The deceleration from the atmospheric drag was so violent it felt like they'd stopped in midair. "Kage?"

"He's on the deck and running, bracketing him on your tactical display now," Kage said. "It doesn't look like an escape attempt, he's coming around for a better angle after we overshot."

Jason closed his eyes for a split second and allowed his neural implant to fully integrate into the ship so he could use her sensors to “see” the target.

"Careful, Captain," Doc warned. "Ident just came back … Eshquarian Burza-class combat shuttle. It's their latest and greatest."

"We'll see about that," Jason said and kicked the left peddle to wheel the Phoenix around, rolling her to port and allowing the nose to fall towards the target.

The other pilot realized right away they'd been spotted and increased his climb angle to meet them head on. Jason looked down and saw Kage had taken note of the maneuver and already biased their shields forward. He allowed the Phoenix to slide into a shallow, unpowered dive to make the other craft expend more energy to come up and meet him. They were only five hundred kilometers apart now, nearly within weapons range.

The plasma cannons weren't as effective within an atmosphere as they were in the vacuum of space, nor were the laser batteries for that matter, but they were much harder to defend against than missiles. You could at least intercept those with point defense. A plasma shot you either dodged or hoped your shields could take it.

"His forward guns are charging, but he's slowing," Kage said. "That doesn't make any sense."

Jason rolled the Phoenix sixty degrees to starboard and pulled out of their dive, pushing the power up as he did.

"He's baiting us in!" he said. "Look for that other shuttle."

"I don't see—"

"Incoming! Landward side, three missiles with active countermeasures!" Doc called out.

"Point defense active!" Kage said. "The sensors can't get a lock at this range, they're too slippery."

"Hold on!" Jason barked and yanked the Phoenix up into a pure vertical climb and poured on the power. The big gunship groaned in protest at the g-loading, but she did as asked and was clawing up out of the atmosphere and actually outrunning the missiles that had to also climb to track.

As the canopy began to turn black, Jason chopped the power and kicked the right peddle, spinning the Phoenix like a top in a tight hammerhead turn. The point-defense systems had better coverage on the rear quadrant and the flanks where the pilot would traditionally be blinded, but Jason's neural implant integration helped to eliminate that. Now he would be diving towards the missiles, increasing the closure rate exponentially while they expended much of their energy just maintaining the climb. It gave him the advantage to dodge the incoming weapons with minimal control inputs.

"Going back downstairs," he said as the Phoenix completed the turn. "Deploy the chin turret and lay down some fire. Where are the two shuttles?"

"Angling back over to the compound," Doc said.

Jason came back up on the power and soon the Phoenix was roaring back into the denser atmosphere on a direct course to the tracking missiles, which were closer than he expected. He watched as the chin turret spat red bolts of energy in a circular dispersion pattern controlled by the computer, taking out one of the missiles with a lucky shot.

The second missile made it through and as soon as he had a visual Jason twitched the stick back slightly. The nose juked up a touch, but it was enough that the Phoenix angled away quicker than the missile could track given the closure speed. It passed underneath and, once its onboard processor knew that it had missed an impacting shot, detonated the warhead. The deck of the gunship bucked and the tail began to overtake the nose as she tumbled from the pressure wave hitting the ventral shields at close range.

"Damnit! Hang on!" Jason said as he fought with the controls.

"Stop saying that!" Crusher shouted from where he had his eyes tightly shut and was gripping the armrests hard enough to tear the padding with his claws.

Jason decided to trust the Phoenix's new flight control avionics and let go of the stick. True to Twingo's claim, the computers recognized the loss of pilot input and went to work bringing the gunship back to controlled flight. Within the span of two seconds, the avionics had used the grav-drive and reaction thrusters to get the nose pointed back in the right direction. Jason grabbed the controls and angled them back to Mok's compound where the two shuttles were still firing on the few ground emplacements left.

"Target the second shuttle, four Pixies," he said. "Let's see him dodge that."

"Pixies locked and ready to fire," Kage said.

"Firing!" Jason squeezed and held the trigger. Four of their tiny homebrewed "Pixie" missiles streaked away towards the target. The weapon had been designed by Twingo and Kage so they'd have something small, cheap, and effective instead of blowing through their arsenal of ship-buster missiles for targets like small shuttles.

"All four are green and tracking," Kage said. "Bracketing the other shuttle for you."

The Phoenix leveled out a few hundred kilometers over the ocean and came racing back inland at low-level. The shuttles were not only the newest model from the Eshquarian yards, but they were packing an impressive arsenal. Someone really wanted to get at Mok and Jason doubted it was a group of ragtag criminals fielding weaponry that advanced.

"Turning over fine course correction to the computer," Jason said. "Let's try to take this guy out on the first pass."

"Main cannons are ready," Kage said. "Give me a trigger squeeze to authorize the fire control computer to take over."

"Here we go," Jason said as the coastline came rushing at them.

19

"Something is wrong with the lockouts," Similan said.

"Syodo must have disabled them before his team deployed last," Mok said with a certain resignation. "He must have been working for Arx for some time."

When the ship Mok had provided for Syodo and his team landed they had watched not only the crew debark looking alive and well but accompanied by Sorlotta Arx. The latter was wearing the newest protective armor from Eshquarian weapons development.

Once Mok saw his tactical team lead Arx over to one of the hidden entrances to the bunker complex he knew he'd been betrayed. Syodo not only knew the compound intimately but had apparently been laying the ground work to circumvent much of its security protocols.

"We don't have long before they're able to breach this chamber," he said. "How many troops did those shuttles deploy?"

"Twenty-four, sir," an operator called out from one of the wall stations.

"And how many guards do we have in the complex?"

"Unknown," Similan said. "They were able to take down the internal com system, and with the shuttles hitting most of the defensive emplacements I can't say how many might be left, sir."

"They're going to get in," Mok announced. "Syodo was far too effective at bypassing our security and we were too lax in making sure something like this couldn't happen. Arx is going through the trouble of breaching the bunker to get to me which means he likely needs me alive. I don't want any unnecessary heroics. Just sit quietly and let this play out. If it—What the hell was that?!"

"Another shuttle has been destroyed and the wreckage fell on top of us," Similan said. "We have limited sensor coverage, but it appears that both remaining shuttles have been destroyed." Another explosion on the surface shook the walls of the bunker.

"And Syodo's ship has been destroyed where it had landed."

"Burke must be thoroughly enjoying himself up there," Mok spat out. Before he could go on, alarms started blaring by the heavy armored door and Mok could clearly see that the system was being overridden from the other side. The computer that controlled the door was putting up a valiant effort, but it appeared to be only a matter of time before Syodo would be able to release the clamps and open it. Mok watched as the lock was finally overwhelmed by whatever measures Syodo was employing. With a soft, anticlimactic clank the locks let go and the bolts retracted with a soft whirring sound before the door swung ponderously open.

"Colonel," Arx said with a nod as he walked in. Syodo and his team fanned out and quickly searched the staff Mok had with him, relieving them of any weapons or communications equipment they might be carrying and herding them over into a corner.

"So what's the game, Arx?" Mok asked. "You wouldn't go through all this trouble to take this chamber intact if you didn't need something from me."

"Of course," Arx said. "Since you've been so recalcitrant to my offer of getting in at the beginning of something grand, I will have to secure your assets by force."

"I'm afraid whatever assets you think I have would pale in comparison to what you have access to from the Empire's own military and intelligence community," Mok said.

"Undoubtedly, but yours are not traceable back to the Empire," Arx said. "I would have preferred to deal with you one on one, as former colleagues and concerned denizens of the quadrant, but you've made it clear that you do not intend to offer your support. So now we'll wait until the Twelve Points arrive and I will submit my proposal to them. I think once they hear me out they will waste little time replacing you."

"Based on your vague hints at what the Empire might or might not be up to?" Mok scoffed. "You can't possibly think I've secured my position here by being so reckless."

Syodo walked up to Arx and whispered something in his ear before turning back to the prisoners, giving Mok a flat, indifferent stare as he did.

"Who do you have up there right now?" Arx asked.

"I don't know what—"

"There is a vessel above us this very minute that is actively defending your property," Arx said hotly. "They've damaged or destroyed my combat shuttles. I want you to get on the com and call them off. Actually, better yet, have them land since it appears I will need a ship thanks to them."

"They don't work for me." Mok smiled. "At least not directly. You should know that."

"Why would I know the particulars of whichever bottom-feeding thugs and mercs you have on the payroll?"

"You're slipping in your old age," Mok said. "That ship is the same one that caused Third General Maasch all that trouble on Shorret-3 … the one that forced you to surgically alter your appearance and slink away from the service."

Arx's eyes narrowed and his cheeks puffed out, a sign he was barely containing his temper.

"How interesting," he finally got out once his skin color returned to normal. "And why are they here, attacking my ships?"

"They're probably trying to get to me," Mok said. "I owe them money for a job, a lot of money, and they don't take kindly to delays."

As if to punctuate Mok's words, another set of shuddering explosions could be heard and felt followed by what could only have been part of the upper structure collapsing upon itself.

JASON AND CRUSHER were giggling as the Phoenix made a third pass, her main cannons blasting another building on Mok's compound to rubble. They'd cleared the area and tried to reach their host on the com, but nobody was answering and they couldn't see any of the ground forces they knew must have been deployed. Kage was able to slice into a local Nexus point and backtrack his way until he found a whole secondary security system which, based on the location, had to mean Mok had extensive underground shelters throughout the estate.

"Are you about done?" Doc asked.

"One more," Jason said and wheeled the gunship around in a long, lazy arc.

"Get that one with the transparent roof." Crusher was pointing out the canopy to a building that looked like it might have been an enclosed arboretum.

"Captain, while I understand wantonly destroying Saditava Mok's property must be very entertaining for you, we have a bit of a time crunch," Doc said. "Those shuttles may have deployed from a capital ship we didn't detect."

"Killjoy," Jason muttered and flared the Phoenix into a hover over the smoking ruins of what had been a beautiful courtyard. "What do we think? Land or just dump us out and keep flying overwatch?"

"I would suggest we keep the Phoenix on active overwatch," Lucky said.

"Agreed." Jason climbed out of the seat and motioned for Doc to hurry up and take his place. "I don't like leaving her as a sitting target and the three of us should be able to handle anything down there."

"Hopefully there aren't any more of your brothers down there," Crusher said to Lucky as he passed.

"I think that is unlikely," Lucky said. "While I cannot make direct contact with other battlesynths, I am aware when one is nearby."

"Alright." Jason loaded his weapons onto the mounting points of his armor and deployed his helmet. "Give us a minute and then deploy the transit beam," his modulated voice boomed from the helmet's speakers. "Then fly east and take up a loose pattern a few hundred klicks away so you're not easily associated with this disaster if someone shows up."

"Got it," Doc said as the seat and controls adjusted to his much smaller stature.

The ride down the blue, wavering transit beam was quick, and even as Jason was bringing his weapon around to cover his friends, he could feel the Phoenix throttle up and move off to the east. Inside his helmet the rough map of the complex Kage had found came up along with directional arrows varying in color based on the probability they led to where he wanted to go.

"This—" Ping! Jason's head snapped back and he rolled over backwards from the force of the shot.

"Captain!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jason said, rolling over to his stomach and scanning the nooks within the courtyard. "Lucky?"

"The shot came from the third archway from the left, dead ahead," Lucky said from where he and Crusher had taken cover behind a towering water fountain. The armor's diagnostic system quickly assessed the damage and let Jason know that other than a slight scorching, the shot did no damage. Glancing blow.

"I can't see anything," he said.

"They are wearing a type of multi-spectral camouflage," Lucky said. "They are not showing up in thermal wavelengths."

"Got 'em," Jason said as he switched to a combination of radar and low-light amplification. "Hang on." He set the railgun to its highest velocity and aimed right in the middle of the amorphous cluster that were his assailants.

The hypersonic rounds screamed across the courtyard, the first two causing rock, dust, and gore to spray out from the archway. The third shot triggered an explosion that pelted them with rock chunks and collapsed the archway entirely.

"I guess one of them was carrying grenades." Crusher snorted. "By the way … since I'm not wearing armor I'd appreciate it if you would quit causing jagged shards of rock to rain down on me."

"No promises," Jason said. "Let's go."

The trio climbed over the debris of the collapsed archway and came up to a gaping hole that the indeterminate number of soldiers appeared to be guarding. Jason ran his gauntlet along the rough edges and could tell that the hole had been cut very recently.

"They breached here for some reason," he said. "And they were guarding it. I guess this is as good a place as any to make entry."

Crusher looked like he wanted to argue the point but eventually shrugged and hefted the big-bore plasma gun he was fond of for close-quarters work. He also had one of the larger-gripped Galvetic railguns strapped to his back along with his usual complement of blades and sidearms.

Jason peeked his helmet into the jagged opening and allowed the armor's sensors to take a reading of the area beyond. It showed nothing more exciting than some suspended dust motes and a discarded explosive breaching tool the enemy troops must have used to blow the rock wall down.

"I've got a reinforced alloy hatch," he said to his friends. "It doesn't look like it was forced open."

"There are also explosive charges mounted on the interior side of the wall that look like they have been there for some time." Lucky pointed to the wide semicircle of conical-shaped charges. "There is also no other point of access to this hatchway."

"This is an escape route, not an entry point," Crusher said. "Whoever attacked this place had detailed knowledge of Mok's security measures … that's an inside job."

"Probably that group of losers he cobbed together when we wouldn't work directly for him," Jason said. "He hired that dipshit Syodo to head up a crew when we turned him down. Remember that idiot?"

"Wasn't he the one that accidentally killed the person that hired him instead of the actual assassination target?" Crusher asked.

"No, that was the other guy … Soran," Jason said. "He was the one that kept trying to get people to call him Soran the Destroyer. Seriously, who tries to make up their own nickname?"

"They called him Soran the Unemployable after that incident," Lucky said. "Syodo was the one that was hired to kidnap a family for ransom but was caught by authorities."

"Yeah, he landed without bothering to change the registration from his last botched job." Jason laughed. "The locals impounded his ship and were crawling all over it when he came sneaking back in with some politician’s family bound and gagged in the back of that ground car. He drove right up and threatened them with a weapon because he didn't recognize them as law enforcement. I never did hear how he avoided imprisonment for that."

"Well … I guess we can ask once we find him," Crusher said. "We want to do this the usual way?"

"I suppose … blind chance and impulsiveness always seems to work better than careful planning anyway." Jason stepped fully into the chamber and moved to the armored door that was hanging open. Crusher pulled a small, flat box from a pouch on his belt as Jason pulled the door all the way open and indicated all-clear. He found that the locking mechanism on the inside wall was still powered and active so he stuck the box to it and waited as thin tendrils of nanobots snaked out and flowed into the device. The box gave a single, green flash to let them know it had made connection.

"Kage, you're in," Crusher said on the open channel. "We'll add repeaters as we need to going in."

"I've got the signal strong and clear," Kage's voice came back. "Beginning my entry now."

Once they moved through the small antechamber for the external door, Jason was relieved to see a set of stairs descending down from ground level. They'd burn more calories, but they wouldn't be trapped in a lift car nor would they tip their hand on the off-chance the enemy didn't know which way they were coming from.

It galled Jason that they had to take such a heavy risk to save Mok from his own stupidity, but without him their own mission came to a grinding halt. He knew Syodo's team was no real threat, but he didn't know who the other players were. Somebody had showed up with four of the Eshquarian Empire’s newest combat shuttles. That was either someone with a lot of money, heavy connections within the Empire, or both. What it told him was that they likely used Syodo to subvert Mok's security, but they were the brains behind the assault and wouldn't be some bumbling fool. Jason made sure to keep that firmly in mind as they carefully began their entry.

"ENTRY TEAM HASN'T REPORTED in," Syodo said to Arx.

"Why are you pestering me with such things?" Arx snapped. "Your lack of initiative is most trying. Do not bother me with trivial details until you have something to report."

"Sorry," Syodo said. "I just thought—"

"I find that highly unlikely," Arx said. "Go find out why the coms are down or if your men simply wandered off. Interface with my detachment's officer and leave me to my own task."

Syodo looked like he was going to say something further, thought better of it, and then walked off towards the exit.

"He's not the brightest," Mok said. "Nor the most loyal, apparently."

"He's stupid on a level that's genuinely frightening," Arx said without turning away from the terminal he was working at. "But smart people don't betray their employers on the promise of money. He was pathetically easy to turn, Colonel … I'm disappointed you have such a creature in your employ, much less trusted him with the details of your security."

"I wasn't aware of how familiar he'd made himself with my internal security protocols," Mok admitted, rolling his chair a few inches closer to the console nearest him. "Perhaps he's not as stupid as we're assuming."

"If you roll once more towards that console I will cut off your hands," Arx said conversationally, never looking over.

"What's this really all about, General?" Mok asked. "Why do you need control of my network?"

"Deniability," Arx said. "The last time I ran an operation personally … well, I don't have to tell you how that turned out. I had to surgically alter my own appearance and become someone else."

"That's worked out fairly well," Mok pointed out. "A full Minister no less. But you really didn't answer my question."

"Nor will I. Hard lessons have been learned from past mistakes, Colonel. I have learned to compartmentalize my operations to a degree that even the cogs in the same wheel have no idea what the others are doing," Arx said. "While I could use Imperial assets, even covert assets, it would be far better if it looks like the overreach of some foolish crime lord should something go awry. What I won't do, however, is needlessly divulge my end goal to you."

"I was just attempting to make conversation," Mok said. In truth, he'd been watching on the security monitors that Arx and his people were ignoring. The monitor had reverted back to the tiled, composite view of all the cameras so it was hard to make out detail of what was on one particular screen unless you knew what you were looking at. It was only the aged, basic system that had been on the property when he'd taken ownership; his more advanced systems were all bypassed and shut down by Syodo.

He'd been trying to engage Arx out of a genuine desire to know what the bastard was up to, but he'd also been trying to keep his attention focused between the slip-com terminal and his own questioning. Right beside where Arx had been working the security monitor clearly showed what could only be the Phoenix settling into a low hover in the courtyard and then lifting off to fly east. Once Arx’s men had made entry into Mok's bunker, they'd not bothered reactivating the compound's security systems. Instead, they'd relied on Arx's shuttles and the troops they'd left topside. Now, with all the shuttles taken out, Mok was hoping they wouldn’t use the building's original internal surveillance to find out what was happening to their people.

"You're certain?" Arx said into his personal com unit, breaking Mok out of his reverie. "And there's no sign of them now? Fine … have Syodo take his team and do another sweep of the buildings and then post troops at all the approaches. The rest of our forces are less than two hours out, so you won't have to hold long."

"Trouble?" Mok asked as Arx tossed the com unit onto the table.

"Whoever you have running around shooting up my troops won't live long enough to help you," the Minister sneered. "My detachment is made up of the finest advanced infantry in the Empire. Who do you have? Another group of underpaid mercenaries?"

"Payment is the last thing on their minds," Mok said with a smile.

"SO HOW MUCH ARE WE getting paid for this?"

"That's a good question," Jason said. "We were originally contracted to snoop around Khepri. I'm sure as hell not doing this for free."

"Excuse me?" Lucky asked.

"I mean having to free Mok from being held captive in his own panic room. We're still on your mission," Jason assured his friend.

"But if we wrangle some more money out of him while running down Lucky's leads, all the better," Crusher insisted.

They had made it all the way down through what looked like a security checkpoint and a large, empty chamber whose purpose was unclear before having to duck off into a side alcove. The troops that had sprinted by them on the way to the stairs they'd just descended were most certainly not Syodo's merc crew. They looked like Eshquarian regulars.

"I don't think we're going to be able to sneak all the way down to where we assume Mok is," Jason said. "Depending on how those shuttles were loaded, we could be looking at a sizable force waiting for us. Ideas?"

"Have Doc use those tiny missiles you guys made and hit the east wall," Crusher said. "Keep the Phoenix back out of sight so it looks like a breach attempt by ground forces."

"That's … actually not bad." Jason struggled to get the compliment out. Crusher's plans normally were all just slightly different variations of a suicidal charge. He rebranded them occasionally to make them seem reasonable, but they were never more subtle than “let's run at them and shoot them.”

"That's like three actual workable ideas in a row. Are you feeling okay?"

"Funny."

"Hell, I can't see any reason it won't work," Jason said. "Call it in."

While Crusher was still on the com with Doc, Jason heard a voice accompanied by careless footsteps coming at them from a passage to the right. He motioned for the others to move back out of sight.

"Keep an eye on those jerks Arx brought with him," the voice was saying as it approached. "I don't trust him … if they look at any of you sideways, eliminate them. Just keep them under watch until I can collect the rest of the credits and get us another ship."

The three of them watched from what was likely a disused security station alcove as Syodo walked out and across the open chamber like he didn't have a care in the universe. Crusher nudged Jason and waved one of his sidearms questioningly. Jason shrugged noncommittally and made a grandiose gesture that meant Crusher could do whatever he wanted to Syodo. If he was so stupid as to walk around utterly oblivious while the compound was under assault, he deserved what he got.

Crusher aimed and squeezed off two stunner bolts, both hitting the merc right in the small of the back. He let out a gurgling wheeze and his limbs contorted unnaturally as he slammed into the stone floor, writing in agony. Jason ran up and rolled him over with his foot before kicking his weapons aside and retracting his own helmet. Syodo's eyes widened at the sight of him.

"You!" he managed to get out around the drool and spasmodic lips.

"I see you haven't gotten appreciably smarter since the last time we met," Jason said pleasantly. "Oh are we going to have some fun with you!"

20

"How do you operate your surveillance system?" Arx asked.

"I actually don't know," Mok said. "I have people for that."

"Then point one of them out!" Arx snapped. Before Mok could try and figure a way out of his mistake, his trusted assistant, Similan, stood.

"I can operate the system," he said. At first Mok thought he was being betrayed by yet another employee, but then he realized Similan was sacrificing himself against the chance Arx would begin killing prisoners to get what he wanted. Arx impatiently waved him over and pointed at the multi-pane monitors, showing him which areas he wanted enlarged.

When a new attack was launched against the entry point of the east wall, Arx began to realize that there had to be something else at work other than Mok's own security forces. It was then that he became more frantic and saw the monitors that controlled the original onsite cameras.

"This is really the best system you could afford?"

"It came with the house," Mok said, not giving him the satisfaction of telling him whatever Syodo had done to affect the door locks also took out his more advanced sensors. "I was trying to play the part of the retired shipping magnate. Robotic aircraft and surface-to-orbit cannons might have raised some questions as to my legitimacy."

"Seems shortsighted," Arx remarked.

"It, along with my reputation, was more than sufficient against any of my competitors," Mok argued. "Had I known that the Empire was going to assault my home with a team of commandos I might have braced up the defenses in some areas."

"Actually, if it hadn't been your misplaced trust in your tactical team commander we'd have never gotten to you before your ships arrived," Arx said. "What do you see?"

"There are multiple explosions near the east wall portico, but there are no aircraft on sensors nor are the cameras detecting movement," Similan said.

"Someone planted charges there beforehand," Arx said and turned to one of his troops standing near. "This is a diversion. Lieutenant Daza, pull your forces back inside—what the hell is going on here?"

Saditava Mok blinked in surprise at the sight of Syodo entering the room. It wasn't so much that he was there, but that he appeared to have flown in as if launched from a cannon. The merc hit the floor hard and skidded across the stone until he slammed into the console. As he spun, Mok could see that his arms and legs were bound and there was a gag in his mouth.

"Check him!" Arx said, peering down the now-empty passageway from where Syodo had come. "Send someone down there to check—"

"Sir! He's covered with grenades!" one of the troops shouted. "They're all wired together."

"Get—!" That was all that Arx got out before the world exploded. All the grenades strapped to Syodo detonated simultaneously, and the pressure wave within the enclosed space sent people flying like ragdolls.

The first thing Mok thought as his vision began to clear and he could only hear a high-pitched ringing was that there was no way he should have survived that blast. He saw movement in the room and realized there were people milling about and talking, but he was having difficulty identifying who it was.

"I'll be damned! He survived."

"You owe me two hundred and fifty credits."

"I think this is a technicality. Double or nothing that he doesn't wake up without some sort of permanent brain damage."

"How would you even tell? He was dumber than shit to begin with. No deal … you owe what you owe."

"I'll pay, but it's under protest."

"Noted."

JASON CONCEDED that they may have overdone it. They'd strapped six stun grenades to Syodo when one or two would have easily incapacitated everyone within an enclosed airspace. Many people were laying still and bleeding from ears, eyes, noses, and mouths. Others were writhing around in pain and moaning, but nobody was getting up and moving about.

"Cover the door," he told Lucky and Crusher. "I'll tie up the bad guys and then go see if Mok is at all functional."

"I'm fine," Mok's tortured voice came out followed by a string of wracking coughs.

"Just lay there," Jason instructed. "I'll check you over. You took a hell of a wallop and might be in shock still."

He quickly secured all of the Eshquarians, double-binding the soldiers. He knew very well that someone could be enhanced any number of ways and look completely normal and then tear through their restraints—and you—without warning. He'd done it himself on more than one occasion.

Mok's injuries were mostly superficial and his breathing was strong and steady. Jason helped him into a padded chair and then went about checking vitals among the staff, or at least on the beings he knew how to.

"Did Similan survive?" Mok asked. He had his head back and his eyes closed. Jason could sympathize; a stun grenade could play hell with your balance. Half a dozen meant he'd be crawling around for a bit before things got back to normal.

"I am alive, sir," a shaky voice said. "The blast shoved me up under the console."

"Sorry about that," Crusher said from the doorway and pointed at Jason. "It was his idea to use so many."

"Seemed reasonable at the time." Jason shrugged and turned back to Mok. "Do you know how many troops this guy had with him?"

"No, only that he landed with four shuttles full," Mok said. "How many did you dispatch?"

"Only a few," Jason said. "We avoided direct confrontations with the larger patrols outside. We planned on either extracting you or holing up here until the cavalry arrives."

"Roll me over to that console," Mok said. Once he was situated and looked to successfully have fought down a wave of vertigo he manipulated the controls and pulled a microphone closer to his mouth.

"This is Saditava Mok. I have Minister Sorlotta Arx in custody as well as your Lieutenant Daza. Your invasion of my home is over. You will lay down your arms, rally in the center courtyard, and wait to be collected whereupon you will be returned to the Empire. No harm will come to you and you gain nothing by continuing to fight. If I have to send people to dig you out one by one I will not be so magnanimous."

"You think they'll do it?" Crusher asked.

"Likely," Mok said. "These guys are elite, but they're not known to throw their lives away meaninglessly. A few might try to retake this room so be ready." As if to punctuate his point, a single plasma bolt screamed through the doorway and blew out a few monitors. Crusher pulled a grenade, this one not a stunner, and tossed it back.

"Can we please stop with the explosives," Mok said, breathing rapidly as the concussion jolted them.

"Your sensors and imagers are really down?" Jason asked as he fiddled with the camera controller. "These things suck."

"Yes, the computers that control all internal security shut down and never came back up," Mok said. "Without those, all the multi-spectrum imagers and sensors are down."

"Are the computers tied into the door lock systems of the outer doors?" Jason asked.

"At least a few are, why?"

"Kage, you think you can work your way in and reboot the computers for the compound's security systems?" Jason asked into his com unit. He paused. "How the hell would I know? Just bring up everything you can."

"Did you bring your code slicer with you?" Mok asked.

"He's tied in remotely," Jason said.

There were a few more pot shots taken down the passageway as Arx's men tried to test Mok's claim, but no sustained effort to retake the bunker ensued. On the low-quality video system they could see a dozen or so troops milling about in the courtyard; all of them looked to have obeyed the request to disarm.

"Here we are," Jason said, pointing. Screens all around the bunker began flickering and displaying diagnostic screens or were booting up.

"That should do it, Captain," Kage said over the still-open channel. "The program that shut it down was basic, but since it was installed at the physical location it was highly effective if you didn't know what to look for."

"Good job, Kage," Jason said. "Tell Doc to maintain his position for now and keep alert."

"I recognize you," Arx croaked from the floor where he was tied up.

"Third General Maasch, allow me to introduce Captain Jason Burke," Mok said, obviously enjoying the moment. "I'm not surprised you recognize him … he was the one that disrupted your plan to drop an orbital platform onto a city on Shorret-3. You remember that operation, don't you?"

Arx just sat there making unintelligible growling sounds and glaring at Jason with hate-filled eyes.

"I take it he's not a fan?" Crusher asked.

Mok didn't answer, just started laughing. It began with a snort, then a chuckle, and soon he had his head thrown back, laughing uproariously at a moment he must have been looking forward to for some time.

21

The next fifteen hours were a whirlwind of activity. Once Mok's security systems were back online they were able to quickly ferret out any lurkers on the property and neutralize them. After that, it was a matter of restraining all twenty-seven remaining members of Arx's personal detachment and waiting for Mok's ships to show up so they could begin ferrying them off-world. Mok had someplace he wanted to “store” them, as he put it, until he could return them to Imperial custody. Jason decided he'd rather not know the details. He was getting a strong hint that Mok wasn't all that he claimed to be, but he still had the deserved reputation as utterly ruthless when crossed.

"We'll be keeping the good Minister here for the time being," Mok said, looking around at his estate. "This seems to be an excessive amount of destruction for the few troops that were milling about on the surface."

"We just updated all our fire-control avionics," Jason said. "Damnedest thing … every time I'd try to hit one of those shuttles with the main cannons—"

"You just happened to destroy a building on my property?"

"So you understand," Jason finished as the rest of his crew walked up. Ignoring all protocol and decorum, Doc had set the Phoenix down right in the courtyard, her landing gear crushing the paving stones.

"Let's get inside," Mok said, sighing heavily. "We have a lot to do and little time before the Twelve Points begin arriving. I'd rather you were gone when they get here."

Jason motioned for the others and followed Mok back into the main house and into a beautifully appointed room dominated by a massive, dark wood table. They all took their seats except Lucky and Jason, who was still wearing his powered armor. It wasn't that he cared about damaging Mok's furniture but rather he didn't feel like being dumped onto the ground when it inevitably gave. In addition to Omega Force and their host, the party included Similan and Tauless, the latter looking none the worse for wear after his ordeal.

"I don't think we're going to get anything from Arx." Mok dove into the matter once introductions were out of the way and Similan had served drinks. Jason sipped on a strong, fruity tea despite really wanting a cold beer and a sandwich.

"In his previous life he was a highly placed intelligence officer, actually the head of the service, and has the ability to withstand even the most vigorous interrogations."

"Do you have his personal effects?" Kage asked.

"Of course," Mok nodded.

"May I see his com unit?"

"It's a local Nexus unit only, Master Kage," Similan said. "It will likely not contain anything we do not already know."

"Humor me," Kage said, making a “gimme” gesture with his two smaller hands. Mok made a dismissive gesture and Similan left to retrieve the com unit that Arx had been carrying.

"I think we can conclude something serious is happening since a full-blown Imperial Minister led an attack on your home," Jason said. "Given the small-scale of the assault, I think it's also safe to say this was not sanctioned by the Eshquarian government. At least not officially."

"That's a bit of a relief," Doc said. "Not that I don't relish the idea of pitting our little company against the might of the quadrant's most powerful military but, for the sake of variety, I thought we might try something a bit more … strategic."

"What did you find on Khepri?" Mok asked, grimacing as he watched Kage begin infiltrating Arx's com unit with thin tendrils of nanobots that seemed to flow from his palms.

"Next to nothing," Jason admitted. "We found no direct proof there that they're building up a military presence, but in tracking down some leads regarding the team that … created … Lucky and his lot, we found out that they've recalled all the battlesynths. That alone has to mean there's some credence to the rumors. Either they have a credible threat or they're about to go on the offensive themselves."

"The pru are a tick shy of being full pacifists," Mok said. "I can't believe they'd be the aggressors, even if using their battlesynths to avoid the fighting themselves. I think we've all gone far afield in this; the original threat was that someone was trying to destabilize the ConFed. Does anything we've learned fit into the puzzle using that as context?"

"We're back to the only thing Khepri provides to the ConFed that's indispensable for its very existence: the banking AI," Doc said.

"Explain," Mok demanded.

Doc quickly laid out the basics of why the Kheprian AI that controlled transactions across the ConFed in real-time, including taxation, was critical to the operation and survival of the ConFed.

"It isn't just the fact that without it the ConFed wouldn't be able to realistically collect revenue across the quadrant," Doc said. "It's that member worlds outside the core would have no reason to feel compelled to honor their agreements. The Fleet is spread so thin as it is they can barely keep the more powerful members from skirmishing with each other, and without the threat of violence or economic penalty you'd see their influence virtually disappear."

"And the powerful would see this as an opportunity," Mok said, leaning heavily against the table. "The ConFed, or what would be left of it, would have no choice but to pull its entire fleet in tight to make sure some member world, or worlds, didn't decide it was an opportune time to fill the power void."

"Or maybe not a member state," Jason said. "The Eshquarian Empire has stayed independent and would benefit greatly from a deflated ConFed. Member worlds too weak to fend for themselves would grant almost any concession for Imperial protection."

"I can't believe the Empire would—"

"No, but a faction within the government might," Jason interrupted. "We have a Minister sitting in a cell down in the basement that just happens to have been a high ranking covert operative … the sort of person that has undoubtedly arranged for coups and revolutions during the course of his career. This risk tolerance for this sort of thing is likely high enough that he'd be willing to roll the dice."

"That's a lot to process." Mok sank back into his seat. "I know this man. If he's involved, even acting in the interests of the Empire, he will have insulated himself so that if it fails he can't—"

"What?" Crusher asked as Mok trailed off, his eyes unfocused.

"He made a comment about needing my network and resources," he went on. "I didn't get it at the time, but he mentioned specifically he was looking for deniability. That's what this assault was about; when he couldn't get me to simply hand over operational control of certain assets, he decided to take it by force once the Twelve Points arrive."

This makes sense," Crusher nodded. "But where does he fit in? Is this his scheme, or is he an opportunist?"

"I could probably find out," Kage said.

"How?"

"This com unit, while not hooked into any slip-com node buffer, does link to Arx's neural implant," Kage said. "It was still connected, in fact. I shut off the unit's ability to collect images and sound without tipping him off. Anyway, I learned this trick that allows me to use this tether connection to get into his neural implant. Anything he's wanting to hide, it's probably there."

"But?" Jason prompted.

"There are decent odds that something goes wrong," Kage admitted. "And by wrong I mean the subject won't likely survive."

"Would it be a painful death?" Mok asked.

"Excruciating and lengthy," Kage said.

"Please … proceed."

"Be careful, Kage," Jason warned. "I don't want you going too deep and putting yourself at risk."

"What's our next move?" Doc asked. "We can't exactly call up the Kheprian government and warn them that we think there might be a plot to attack their most secure facility … but we have no idea by who, or when, or why."

"That wouldn't be my first suggestion, no," Jason said.

"Let me reach out to some people," Mok said, standing to indicate the meeting was over. "With Arx's failure to secure access to my syndicate's resources we may have already hampered their ability to pull this off, assuming you're correct about the target. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Weird," Jason said as Mok practically ran from the room with Similan in tow.

"Captain, I found some things that we need to discuss." Tauless spoke up for the first time since they'd entered the building. "I'd rather do it somewhere more discreet."

"Let's head back to the Phoenix and wait to see what Mok kicks up," Jason said. "Lucky, can you do me a solid and wait here with Kage? He looks a tad preoccupied."

"Of course, Captain," Lucky said and moved over to where Kage sat. The code slicer was completely oblivious to their presence as he brought his impressive mental abilities to bear in breaking into Arx's neural implant.

"MAYBE IT'S BETTER that Lucky isn't here for this," Tauless said. "What I've found may cloud his judgment."

"You have my complete attention," Jason said, now very interested.

"I found out where Lot 700 is," Tauless began without preamble. "Unbelievably, they're in stasis and stored somewhere on Krunt Teludal's property on Khepri."

"Shit," Jason muttered. "The authorities were all over that place after the attack."

"I don't think they'd have so carelessly hidden them that the authorities could find them without knowing they were there," Tauless disagreed. "Unfortunately that means we won't likely have any better luck; the exact location wasn't specified."

"That's unfortunate, maybe," Jason said. "We're sure that your father said all of Lot 700 had the unique dummy inhibitors installed?"

"Yes," Tauless said. "I also found something else … my father had found evidence that a new, secret production facility had been built."

"Do I even want to know what this facility will be producing?" Jason moaned.

"A new generation of battlesynths. Upgraded from the original design," Tauless said.

"And in direct violation of half a dozen treaties the Kheprian government signed to halt all battlesynth research, repair, and production," Jason sighed. "Of course."

"I don't understand," Tauless said.

"This isn't coincidental," Jason explained. "If someone destabilizes the ConFed and Khepri was suddenly on its own, what would they need quickly?"

"Ah!" Tauless said. "A standing army."

"Exactly. A new generation of battlesynths would fit the bill nicely. All they'd need after that is a partner with a fleet powerful enough to protect the system," Jason said. "I can't think of anyone more capable, or which stands to gain more, than the Eshquarian Empire. Hopefully Kage finds a trail that gives us the specifics. Did you happen to find out if this new facility is online?"

"It's not," Tauless said. "They've made a handful of test runs according to my father's best information, but the processing matrixes are still only able to be made at the original facility."

"How old is this new factory?" Jason asked, frowning.

"More than fifty years old, at least," Tauless said. "Why?"

"That means if these are connected someone has been playing a very long game." Jason said. "Eshquarians and Kheprians don't live that long, so we're either looking at a multigenerational conspiracy or we've missed something important."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, Captain," Tauless said.

"You couldn't be more wrong." Jason forced a smile and patted him on the shoulder, something he hoped his species interpreted as friendly and not threatening. "Thank you for coming to me with this first. Do me a favor and consolidate this information and send it to Doc and Kage as well. I think we'll leave Lucky out of the loop for the time being. I need him at full capacity and not distracted with family issues."

"Of course." Tauless bobbed his head up and down vertically in what Jason had learned was the pru version of a head nod.

Jason remained seated in the galley, trying to work through what he'd learned before talking to Doc and Kage about it. He felt that the secret battlesynth production facility might not to be connected to any effort to break up the ConFed. It did mean some faction on Khepri was almost certainly involved. But why bother risking so much to prop up a facility to produce something that was outlawed for centuries in the first place?

He shuddered at the thought of a whole new, upgraded generation of battlesynths rolling off a production line. Not because he was fearful of the species, but because he knew that anybody willing to violate so many treaties to make them certainly wouldn't let them out without firm measures of control. They wouldn't be the free-thinking beings like Lucky and his cohorts, they'd be something much more dangerous.

"I'm going to need to drag some more people in on this," he said to himself, standing and slapping both hands on the galley table.

22

"Five days to Khepri at current slip velocity," Twingo reported from the bridge engineering station. "The new grav-drive is mostly performing as expected."

"Mostly?" Jason asked.

"The computer is having to update the calibration tables a lot more often than I would like in order to keep the left and right emitter banks in sync," Twingo said. "It could be a number of things, or it could be the normal break-in behavior of the new system. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Where have we heard that before?" Crusher snorted.

"Look, I keep the Phoenix flying … that's it!" Twingo said hotly. "Then whenever you idiots fly her into something, through something, allow her to get shot up, or any of the other insane stunts I've seen I'm the one who gets blamed for giving you an unreliable ship. Well I've had—"

"Twingo! Nobody is blaming you for anything," Jason said. "But you do have to admit that it's mostly your fault when something breaks." He said it without a hint of a smile and watched as Twingo went from his normal blue to an unhealthy shade of violet. The engineer got up slowly from his seat and walked off the bridge without a word to any of them.

"Oh wow … you really got him with that last one," Crusher said quietly once Twingo was out of earshot.

"I owed him," Jason said. "Kage, how long do you think it will take you to run through all the data on that side project?"

"The computer is doing it now," Kage said. "There's no advantage in having me sit there and parse through every bit of it. I expect it to start spitting out results within the next few hours."

The plant that might be building new battlesynth bodies concerned Jason, but it wasn't an immediate threat. He did, however, want to at least find out the likely location of Lot 700. Teludal's property wasn't that big, so he gave Kage all the data they had from when he and Lucky visited combined with any public Nexus records and the limited information Tauless had to see if the exact spot could be pinpointed. Barring that, Jason would settle for a short list of most likely places. He had to assume they were buried, so randomly digging the place up and hoping to strike gold wasn't really practical.

He hoped that the dormant soldiers had been resting in a condition that would allow them to come online quickly. If Lucky could communicate to them the threat and get them to sign on it would help tremendously. As it was they were hopelessly outmatched on the ground assuming that there were a couple hundred battlesynths that might turn out to be hostile. If that was the case he had no delusions about holding their own … they'd all be dead in seconds.

"I've also got it doing the preliminary skim of the information we took from Arx's com unit and neural implant," Kage went on. "I'll dig into that personally once the computer gets rid of the extraneous garbage for me."

"Wasn't that encrypted?" Jason asked.

"I went in behind the encryption with the method I used," Kage said. "I'm surprised someone as savvy as an Eshquarian Intelligence officer would be so foolish as to be linked to their com unit in the first place, much less once captured and having the unit confiscated."

"Maybe he was hoping to use it to send out a distress message if the unit was able to link up to an outside network," Jason said.

"Plausible, but still risky," Kage said. "Assuming we find Lucky's brothers, what are we hoping to accomplish on Khepri?"

"Strangely enough, I'm hoping to be able to discreetly find someone that can raise an alarm, thus saving the ConFed," Jason said.

"This is a weird side of the fight to be on, all things considered," Crusher remarked. "Wouldn't the ConFed withdrawing its tentacles be considered a good thing for us?"

"Yes, but not for everybody," Jason said carefully. His own thinking was still rapidly evolving on the issue so he was unsure how to articulate it to the others. "At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, taking down a system without having something ready to step in and take its place can be just as damaging as leaving the flawed system be."

"That is hypocritical," Crusher accused. "We've routinely sided with freedom fighters and revolutionaries against uncaring and abusive governments."

"I knew you'd look at it that way," Jason sighed. "I'm not arguing that the ConFed should stay as it is, but nor do I think that letting someone plunge the quadrant into chaos in a grab for power is a better solution. We've sided with revolutionaries on a small scale and only as a matter of last resort. A lot of people bitch about the ConFed's taxes and interference … not too many are taking consensus votes to begin withdrawal proceedings."

"That's a technicality and you know it," Kage scoffed. "They don't leave because it means standing out in the cold alone. They'd be easy prey and the ConFed would take special delight in watching them fall after voting to leave."

"I don't disagree with either of you," Jason said. "But can you really tell me that if the ConFed's power gets swept away in the span of a day that all those boundary planets and weaker enclaves will get to go on self-governing? It will be chaotic, bloody, and a long time before anyone is able to step in and help."

They all fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts and staring at the stars streaking by on the canopy projection. Jason felt like he didn't really get his point across, and the disgusted look Crusher gave him before turning away made his cheeks burn. If he'd learned one thing since he'd been working as a running gun—and had seen a whole spectrum of suffering during that time—was that there was no universal truth. Sure, ideally everyone should live free and under a benevolent government that provided much while requiring little and never fear that someone outside their little bubble might want to come and take what they have.

In reality, not every world was suited to being cut loose. The galaxy was a scary place full of predators. Without a balancing force like the ConFed Starfleet hanging over the area like a vengeful cloud, even if only protecting their own interests, he feared many worlds would find themselves in an even worse position. The ConFed at least made a half-assed attempt at ensuring things like genocide and slavery were stamped out. There were others that would not.

The more he thought about it, the more his fear began to grow at what might happen to the quadrant without some umbrella organization at least keeping an eye on things. What about Earth? They were now flying advanced starships proudly waving the flag, and the Cridal Cooperative wasn't so powerful that they had nothing to fear. Maybe once they had more hulls in service and a mature force spun up, but right now they were vulnerable and no longer safely hidden down the Orion Arm.

"Take watch," he said to Kage and slid out of the pilot's seat. "Let me know the minute your two searches dig up anything."

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, General," Mok said. "None of your men escaped, all of your ships were destroyed … nobody is coming to look for you here. In fact, you don't even know where here is."

"You're so very impressed with your own cleverness, aren't you, Colonel?" Arx stirred in his cell. "Yes, I'm well-aware that we've left your ruined home. From the faint subsonic vibration I'm feeling I'm assuming you have me on one of your pirate ships flying through slip-space … untraceable and untouchable."

"So why not spill it?" Mok pressed. "You failed utterly to get your hands on my syndicate and I think you're smart enough to realize I can never let you leave this cell alive. Why not dazzle me with your brilliant plan to conquer the galaxy?"

"Just kill me now and get it over with, Colonel," Arx moaned. "At least it will spare me from your clumsy attempts at appealing to my ego. Who do you think you're talking to? You worked for me … do you think I don't have at least two more contingencies ready to activate if one part of a plan stumbles?

"Your little organization would have made things easier, but this changes nothing. My people know what to do without me having to be there to tell them. Either let me sit here until I die, or put a blaster bolt through my head, it doesn't matter at this point."

Mok made some pretense of trying to stare down his old boss before moving over one cell and looking in on its occupant.

"How about you, stupid? You ready to say something useful?" he asked.

"I told you I don't know anything," Syodo said. He was heavily bandaged and his face was lumpy and deformed from the swelling caused by the massive concussive wave hit him.

"You don't ever want out of here?"

"I took payment from Minister Arx to plug a device he gave me into a data port on one of the computers that control your security," Syodo said. "To do that I didn't have to know what he was up to. I even told him I'd rather not know.

"But yeah … I want to get out of here. I want the chance to beat Burke until he's almost dead, pay to have him completely healed, and then go at it again. I'd spend every single credit I've saved doing it over and over again until I finally felt like letting him die."

"Part of me almost wants to let you go so you can try," Mok laughed. "I don't think Burke will treat you as kindly as he has the next time around."

Syodo hissed and kicked his waste pan at the door where its foul contents hit the security barrier and sizzled. Mok was as grateful to his security chief for installing the new barriers as he was to the engineers who had thoughtfully designed it to block fluids and smells.

"I'll let you think about it some more. Just shout to the guard if you remember something. I'm sure you're still a little fuzzy after having all those grenades go off around your head like that. How did Burke so easily capture you, anyway?"

Mok walked away as Syodo continued to hiss and thrash at his bedding. He left the detention area and made a direct line for a small alcove that would allow him to access one of the slip-com nodes.

"What's up?" Kage's voice came across as the video resolved and he could see the Veran's face. He wasn't familiar with the phrase so he assumed it meant hello.

"Tell Captain Burke that Arx has some sort of contingency prepared and ready to deploy in the event he failed to gain control of my resources," Mok said. "I'll keep working on him, but he's slippery. Anything he gives me could be a false lead, but I think this was genuine. You might not have an easy time of it when you get to Khepri."

"I'll let him know," Kage said. "We're still a few days away from Khepri. Anything else?"

"Not until you can give me access to whatever Arx had in his head," Mok said. "Any progress on that?"

"Some." Kage squirmed. Mok figured he must have already cracked into the contents and they would go through it themselves before sharing with him. It was exactly what he would do. "We'll keep you in the loop on that."

"Of course," Mok smiled indulgently. "Until then." He reached over and terminated the channel before stepping back into the corridor.

"Your ship is ready, sir." Similan walked up and did another of those half-bows. "The captain says we can undock and be underway at your command."

"Then let's get to it," Mok said. "Inform the captain I wish to go to Eshquaria."

"I'm sorry, sir," Similan said. "I could have sworn you said you wanted to go to Eshquaria."

"You heard me. I know the dangers … just make it happen."

"I obey." Similan bowed fully this time.

23

"That makes three full-strength battlegroups," Doc said.

"Damn! I've never seen the ConFed concentrate that much firepower in one area before," Jason said. "They're taking this threat seriously … whatever it is."

"They're not setting up a picket line or even harassing approaching ships yet," Kage said.

"They won't," Jason said, tracing the ConFed's formations and deployment on his tactical display with a finger. "This is just a show of force for now. They either have intel or are assuming that any threat to Khepri will come from outside and in the form of a large war fleet."

"And you're not?" Crusher asked. "The only real way to take a strategic target on a Pillar World is with overwhelming force."

"Perhaps," Jason said. He'd read both of Kage's summary reports and, in addition to agreeing that the hidden Lot 700 was still somewhere on Teludal's property, he was also convinced that the threat to the central banking AI was already on Khepri. He looked around at his crew as they lounged idly and felt a pang of guilt for withholding information from them as he got it. That wasn't how he normally ran his crew, so why was he doing it now? He could argue it was to spare Lucky's feelings, but didn't he rage around for the better part of a year because the Browns didn't tell him about his son for the same reason?

"Kage, we have about ten hours to kill before we're even allowed into an approach orbit over the planet," he said. "Why don't you go ahead and brief everyone on what you've found so far."

Kage gave him a strange look but didn't argue. "Which do you want me to start with?" he asked.

"Let's start with the issues in order," Jason said. "Tell them about Lot 700."

"We believe we know the location of Lot 700," Kage said, casting a guilty glance at Lucky as he did. "The most likely location is, believe it or not, buried on Krunt Teludal's property. After analyzing the imagery we have of the property from our previous trip here, Vulban's records, and public records data the Kheprian government graciously left unsecured, I think I have even pinpointed where it might be."

"Where?" Tauless said. "I've been to Teludal's home many, many times when I was younger and I don't remember anything that stood out. A facility underground that would safely maintain a battlesynth in stasis would still require a substantial above-ground presence, to say nothing of the power requirements."

"Right you are," Kage said. "That's actually where I started. The equipment needed to keep them alive generates a lot of heat, and that heat has to go somewhere. The usual method would be a cooling stack that vented out into the atmosphere, but a huge, unexplained thermal plume isn't really the best way to keep something hidden.

"Teludal and Vulban had to know that eventually someone would realize that thirty-six battlesynths were unaccounted for, so they wouldn't have done something as obvious as excavate down near the existing buildings on the property." As he was talking, Kage had projected imagery up on the canopy that had been marked up with pointers to illustrate what he was saying.

"Look along the back property line. What do you see?" he asked.

"A stream?" Crusher asked, squinting at the monochromatic image.

"It's more of a small river, actually," Kage said. "And if you look just to the west in the corner there"—he highlighted what he was talking about on the projection—"you can see what is most definitely the remains of an artificial structure. Probably what's left of a foundation from a building that's been gone for centuries."

"So they used the river to pump in cooling water for the machinery?" Jason asked. He'd not really understood this part in Kage's brief summary.

"There are issues with that," Doc said. "You'd have to either clean and filter the water coming in or risk pumping in whatever is suspended in the river water. The easier way is to sink heat exchangers into the water and allow the current to carry the heat away."

"Doc wins," Kage smiled. "From public records I found a survey image taken when the river was down and the weather had been unseasonably cool. If you look just south of that old ruin you can see six slightly warmer patches of water. I think that in this instance the volume of water was low enough that the satellite image actually picked up the thermal signatures of the heat exchangers. It's so subtle that if you didn't know what you were looking for already you'd completely miss it."

"That's a lot of cooling capacity to just maintain thirty-six stasis pods," Tauless argued.

"That's because there's also a miniature fusion powerplant there," Kage said and brought up another document, this one a handwritten sheet listing the specs of a proposed reactor. "This would be something widely available for research purposes. Miniature fusion reactors are used frequently for temporary setups where grid power is unavailable and batteries won't cut it. They're compact, safe, and reliable."

"The simple answer is usually the correct one," Doc pointed out. "This makes the most sense. Teludal would want to keep them close, but not something as foolish as in his basement. Putting aside how they managed to even construct something like this in secret—"

"Oh! I found that too," Kage said and began flipping through documents so fast that Jason looked away from the screen to keep from getting his eyes crossed. "Here! There's a group called—"

"The Xerneen Society," Lucky finished for him. "It is a Pruvian word that loosely translates to 'self-determination' or 'free will.' The society is a political activist group that led the fight in declaring synths a free-thinking people with the same rights as the pru themselves. That was the legal side of things. They also had a more militant arm that would act forcibly when necessary to protect synths that were being misused, most notoriously the battlesynths serving in combat roles they did not volunteer for."

"Thanks for stealing my thunder," Kage griped. "He's exactly right. The Xerneen Society is mentioned repeatedly in Vulban's writings, so I would suspect that any logistical help the pair needed would have come from them."

"How do you know so much about that, Lucky?" Crusher asked.

"They are the reason I am standing here with you, and not buried in a hole with my lot-mates," Lucky said. An uncomfortable silence prevailed as he didn't offer any further explanation.

"Is there any way to get in touch with these people?" Doc asked. "Maybe they can help."

"They don't really exist anymore except as a public relations office that will spit out awareness campaigns every once in a while," Tauless said. "With synths roaming around freely throughout the quadrant, there wasn't any real mission for them anymore."

"That's our first goal," Jason said, reasserting control over the impromptu meeting. "Lucky, Kage, Tauless, and Twingo will work on the particulars of getting to Lot 700 and see about reactivating them."

"What are your plans with my lot-mates?" Lucky asked.

"I'm hoping they can be convinced to join us," Jason said. "If they have the same unique ability to ignore the inhibitor signal that you do we'll probably need their help."

"If they refuse?"

"They refuse," Jason shrugged. "Then we'll be no worse off than we are right now and we'll have at least got them going and on their own again. I'm more than a little insulted at the insinuation that I would try to force them … as if I could even if I wanted to."

Lucky just stared at him, but offered no apology for the perceived slight.

"Get going." Jason jerked a thumb towards the bridge entryway. "You have a few hours to come up with something workable."

"What was that all about?" Crusher asked after the others had filed off the bridge.

"He's pissed because I kept that information back for a time," Jason said.

"He'll get over it." Crusher yawned.

The Phoenix, flying under a registration that identified her as a high-speed courier, plodded through the system with the rest of the traffic. Jason could have requested a direct route and have a decent chance of it being granted, but it would also draw undo attention so for now he was content to file in behind everyone else and wait his turn.

"What was the other thing Kage was supposed to brief us on?" Crusher asked.

"Where we are with tracking down who might be orchestrating all this," Jason said. "Nothing that won't wait. There wasn't much there anyway."

"DIRECTOR PAVON, thank you for seeing me."

"Are you out of your mind, coming here?" Subdirector Ursic Pavon of Eshquarian Exterior Intelligence hissed. "There's a detain-on-sight order for you, Mok."

"Then you can just imagine how important what I have to say is; I couldn't risk sending it through the com system nor trust it to a messenger," Mok said.

They were sitting in a safe house on Eshquaria Prime that few knew about, even within the intelligence community. It was in an affluent outlying suburb of the capital and was usually used as an offsite meeting place for intelligence agents of different sovereign powers while the politicians preened and posed for pictures during official visits. Mok remembered sitting in the very same room negotiating for the return of hostages that had been grabbed during a border dispute, doing the real work behind the scenes while ambassadors and ministers took the credit later.

"If I were you, I'd get to the point quickly," Pavon said. "I owe you much, but there are limits to that. I won't risk my entire career or the safety of my family by being seen with you."

"Have you been noticing any unusual orders for fleet movements lately?" Mok asked. "I know about the tension with the Protectorate so nothing to do with that … anything to do with possibly deploying a force to the Core?"

"Where at in the Core?" Pavon said. "That's really a misnomer anyway; the 'Core' encompasses hundreds of worlds and not all located near the galactic center."

"Pillar Worlds, then," Mok corrected himself.

"You're running out of time, Mok," Pavon said, but the tightening of his facial muscles let Mok know that he'd come close to something.

"Okay, let's lay things bare," he said. "Do you remember Third General Maasch?"

"Your mentor? Of course," Pavon sneered. "If anyone is wanted more by the intelligence community than you, it's him. You've been left alone because you were smart enough to use your new … enterprise … to provide us with enough useful information to keep you in place. Him? We'll kill him on sight if we can ever find him."

"He's been here the entire time," Mok smiled humorlessly. "Maasch had an escape plan that he enacted after Shorret-3 … his name is Sorlotta Arx."

Pavon choked on his tea at the name. "You can't mean—"

"Minister Sorlotta Arx," Mok confirmed. "And I have proof."

"You have my attention now," Pavon said. "What do you want for this? You realize a pardon is out of the question. Too many people in very high places would be humiliated to learn that you'd actually been acting under orders."

"I don't feel like taking the pay cut it would mean to come back," Mok snorted. "Some assurances I'll be left alone by both branches of the intelligence service would be nice. But no, I'm not doing this for personal gain. I think Maasch might have been working some deal with a third party to launch an attack on Khepri."

"What in the Three Sisters for?" Pavon said, his expression referring to the three habitable planets in the Eshquaria System.

"The short answer is the usual: the fall of the ConFed and the glory of the Empire," Mok said. "I'm not comfortable giving you all the details because I have things in motion that I'd rather not put at risk. All I'm asking is that you look into any deployments by our forces—your forces—that would allow them to quickly get to the Khepri System. Finding out why they're there and who ordered it would be helpful as well."

"I hate being put in a position of trusting you, but I have heard some rumors," Pavon said. "Certain members of the admiralty that have been unusually vocal about expanding Eshquarian influence by force and denouncing the ConFed as weak and past its time. These are flagged by Interior Intelligence but nothing is ever done with it."

"I think I'd look a little closer if I were you," Mok said, standing to leave. "By the way … I have Arx and a detachment of his troops in custody after a failed attack on my home. I won't bore you with the details, but if you're nice and keep me informed on what you find I'll turn him over to you personally with the evidence of who he really is."

"Always working the angles." Pavon shook his head. "You never change. I'll be in touch, Colonel. Now please leave discreetly … I'd rather not have to deal with what you've just told me while facing criminal charges of my own."

"Good day, Director," Mok nodded and pulled the hat and mask back. It was a snug, half-mask affair that was designed to keep allergens, pollution, and germs out. Nearly a quarter of all urban dwellers wore something similar in the bigger cities so it would hardly be noticed.

Once outside he quickly climbed into his ground car and patted the driver to get going. After six blocks he ordered a few seemingly random turns before asking the driver to pull over. He paid with a non-coded credit chit and climbed out, throwing his long jacket and hat into a public trash bin and pulling on another hat of a completely different style and color before setting off and backtracking the way he'd come.

As he'd suspected, two ground cars that he'd seen parked outside of the safe house went speeding by, not slowing as they passed him. Once they were out of sight he resisted the urge to break into a run. There was no way to know if there were other observers posted to make sure he didn't pop out somewhere unexpected, and not drawing attention to one's self was the name of the game. Despite the very real danger of being captured and spending the rest of his life in an Eshquarian prison camp he had to admit that he hadn't felt so alive in years. He missed the rush of field operations and even giving a couple of Interior lackeys the slip set his hearts to racing.

"Everything is as I requested, I trust," he said as he climbed into another generic ground car without even a cursory look around.

"Of course, sir," Similan said as he pulled out into traffic.

They drove along the main arteries out of the city until making it to one of the auxiliary spaceports that dotted the landscape outside of every major metropolis. Similan drove out onto the active ramp, and as they approached a large cargo shuttle that sat with its engines running the front ramp yawned open. The car rolled smoothly up into the shuttle and within seconds Mok felt the engines throttle up and they were airborne, flying away from the city and towards their orbital vector.

"Well done, everybody," Mok said once the deck clamps engaged and secured the car. "Now let's hope leaving this system goes just as smooth."

"Do you think you were recognized, sir?" Similan asked.

"I don't," Mok said. "I think those junior agents were posted there and told to follow anybody they couldn't positively identify that came out of that location. Nothing to worry about."

"ANY PROGRESS?" Jason asked, poking his head into the com room.

"If anything I'm losing ground," Kage said, slamming his palms down on the console. "This close to Khepri I'm tied in completely to their local networks, but something is blocking me at every turn."

"I don't want to put undue pressure on you, but we're just a few hours from landing," Jason said.

"I'm trying." Kage's frustration was evident so Jason didn't lean on him any harder. "It shouldn't be this difficult given that the orders have to be coming down through official channels and I've gained complete access to their system. Trying to pin down where they're originating is proving to be almost impossible, though. It's like they have someone much better than me constantly shuffling things so that I can never get a solid hit."

"That's disturbing," Jason frowned. He and the others abused Kage constantly, but there was no denying he was one of the best at what he did. His criminal record proved it. "If someone is blocking you that means they know you're trying to track down a specific target. Maybe we should pull the plug on this and work a different angle. We could wait and see what Mok digs up."

"It may be too late for that," Kage admitted. "Like you said; whoever it is already knows I'm in there and snooping around. I'd suggest we just go for it and see if something breaks loose." When Jason looked unconvinced, he went on. "There's something about this that feels familiar. It could be someone I've had dealings with before, or maybe someone who was trained by someone I know. If I can get a better handle on who it is then I can better form a strategy."

"Just … be careful, Kage," Jason said. "You're getting deeper and deeper into this and there is a risk no matter how much you tell me there isn't."

"Was … was that genuine concern for my wellbeing, Captain?" Kage said.

"Yes! You know what a pain in the ass it would be to find another code slicer?" Jason pushed off from the hatchway. "At least a halfway competent one that's willing to work for what I pay you? I can't afford to lose you."

"So I can keep going?"

"Yes … for now," Jason said. "You only have a few more hours before we're heading back to Teludal's property anyway."

"Captain, we've been cleared by orbital control to begin our approach," Doc's voice came over the intercom.

"On my way."

24

"What the—" Jason trailed off as they climbed out of the nondescript utility ground vehicle they'd rented at the starport. They'd been elated when Kage had found out that Krunt Teludal had survived the assault on his home and was being held for treatment at a secure facility. He'd also been happy to learn that emergency crews had quickly put out the house fire he and Lucky had accidentally started.

What they hadn't counted on was that in the meantime his house and other outbuildings would be razed to the ground. There was nothing but three giant holes and a few loose bricks as evidence that there had ever been a structure there.

"Are we in the right place?" Crusher asked.

"Yes."

"Does he live underground in one of those holes?"

"No, stupid," Jason snapped. "Someone tore the house down."

"Why do we care? The thing we want is supposedly a quarter-mile northeast of here," Crusher said, still drilling for the nerve.

"Because the only reason to tear something down completely and take each and every brick with you is because they're searching for something," Jason explained slowly, as if to a child. "If Teludal had information in his house regarding the hidden lot of battlesynths on his property they'll have found it. They searched and then took it all off-site to sift through every scrap."

"Someone must have known that he had knowledge where they were," Tauless said. "This is an extreme measure on this planet … people don't tolerate this sort of intrusion by the government."

"Crusher's right, we should get going and out of the open," Twingo said. "Do you think this vehicle can make it back to where we need to be?"

"Topographical data shows that it's relatively flat," Kage said. "But it's also in the middle of an overflow zone. All the water comes from those hills there and across the back of this property on the way to the river. Depending on how much rainfall they've had, the ground could be saturated to the point the vehicle might sink. In hindsight the captain should have sprung for a vehicle with repulsor drive and not wheels."

"When did you become so knowledgeable about … draining things," Crusher said after failing to find a technical term for water runoff. Kage just gave him a disgusted look and walked back to the waiting vehicle.

Luck was still with them and the ground, while damp, was firm and held the weight of the cargo vehicle easily. With Jason driving and the suspension raised to its maximum, they carefully bounced their way through the overgrowth until the moldering remains of a stonework foundation could be seen jutting up from the ground like jagged teeth.

They unloaded and efficiently broke out all the gear that Twingo and Kage had prepared in order to try and find the entrance. Lucky walked around the site slowly, trying to see if his ability to sense when other battlesynths were near would give them a general idea of where the main chamber might be located.

"Over here," Twingo said after thirty minutes of scanning the area. "The moss and stuff over here has definitely been disturbed."

"It's a different species, too." Doc crouched down and carefully picked at the clinging plant life. "Close in appearance, but definitely not the same as the rest."

"So likely placed there as camouflage," Jason said. "Good enough for me. Break out the big toys and let's get to it."

Twingo wrestled a much larger device over and began blasting the area with multi-frequency x-ray beams, looking for a specific diffraction that would indicate the presence of alloy within the rock. There were much more effective methods available for deep-ground scanning, but they were hampered by time, lack of a suitable power source, and the operator's desire to not bombard himself with a near-fatal dose of gamma radiation.

It didn't take long before he powered down the unit and removed the heavy protective smock he'd donned for the job. He waved Lucky over and pointed at the smallest of the rocks that was covered with the lichen growth that didn't belong. The battlesynth planted his feet and easily pulled the rock away, tossing it away from the work site.

"Kage, you're up," Twingo huffed, wiping the sweat from his face and climbing up out of the shallow impression.

"What's in there?" Jason asked.

"It's an antique cipher lock," Kage called up, pulling a tablet computer trailing a long lead from his pack. "Give me a minute."

After selecting the correct interface, he plugged his computer in and with his neural implant began running intrusion algorithms to defeat the outdated locking mechanism. It wasn't even a full minute before there were three loud beeps and a loud pop.

"The control panel has lifted out of the way and there are three levers underneath. I don't know what these words mean."

"Allow me," Tauless said, peering into the hole. "They're not words. These are common engineering pictograms used on Khepri that must not be loaded into the Universal Translation Matrix. The one on the left means 'purge,' the middle is 'vent,' and the third means 'open.'"

"Damn," Twingo said. "That makes me think there's a specific order that needs to be adhered to. Maybe."

"Maybe?" Crusher asked. "You're not sure?"

"Wow, you are really dense today, aren't you?" Twingo looked up from the hole. "No, dimwit … I wasn't here when they designed or installed this system, so I have no idea what the order of operation is."

"What's your best guess?" Jason asked quickly to head off a retaliatory comment from Crusher.

Twingo took a moment to look around at the surroundings and then back at the corroded panel. "I think they may have anticipated that the area would flood and that, eventually, the chamber could be compromised," Twingo said. "Given that, I think it should be vent, purge, and then open."

"I agree, Captain," Tauless said.

"Do it," Jason said. "We're wasting time."

Twingo reached over and grabbed the handle labeled “vent” and pulled it out. With a screech of metal on metal the handle pulled out fifteen centimeters, but nothing happened.

"Turn it to the right and then push it back in," Tauless said. Twingo rotated the handle ninety degrees clockwise and depressed the handle. He was rewarded with three loud pops and clods of mud shooting into the air fifteen meters to the south of the foundation. A moment later three pipes nearly twenty-five centimeters in diameter rose out of the ground and the caps hinged open and released a puff of murky vapor.

"Whoa!" Crusher shouted, snorting. "That stinks!"

"Stagnant water," Jason said, trying not to gag. "I guess the chamber has been compromised. Go ahead and purge it." He heard Twingo grunting and cursing and then the distinctive ping of metal snapping.

"Please tell me that wasn't the purge handle breaking off."

"Okay … I won't tell you."

"The shaft snapped off pretty deep into the panel, Captain," Tauless said. "I don't think we can easily take this apart and get to it. If it was stuck enough to snap this piece of alloy, nothing we have with us will be able to pull it free."

"So … now what?" Doc asked.

"Open the entrance," Lucky said. "Even if the compartment is completely flooded I can go down and try to manually force the purge valves open."

"You heard him," Jason said. "Crack it open."

The third handle was pulled and reset and this time there was a deep rumbling coming from the center of the foundation.

"Get clear! Move it!"

They all scrambled up out of the depression as a large, ovoid shape pressed up out of the mud and silt. The ground cracked and gave way and the platform rose shakily on two hydraulic rams until it was suspended three meters above the ground. Mud and dirt rained off the pitted alloy when it jerked to a stop, revealing a yawning hole filled to the top with foul, brackish water.

"Holy shit, that's rank." Jason pulled his shirt up over his nose and patted Lucky on the back. "It's all you, buddy."

Lucky moved over and peered down into the opening. "There are steps that lead down and towards were the vent stacks are," he said. "No sign of anti-intrusion systems or traps." He stepped off and slowly submerged into the inky water.

"He's going to need to be hosed off before he gets back in the ship," Crusher said.

They waited patiently for nearly twenty minutes, nobody speaking as they all strained their ears to hear any sign that Lucky was either successful or in trouble. They were concentrating so hard that a loud bang made them all jump. When the sound of gushing water reached them there was nervous laughter and they ran over to where the foundation overlooked the river.

Further down the embankment an impressive gout of black water was pouring out from a hidden outlet and flowing down into the clear river, leaving a dingy stain across its surface. Jason could hear the whistle of the vents sucking in air further back as the water continued to pour out, and then the system made complete sense.

"It is safe to enter," Lucky called up from the bottom of the stairwell. "Be careful, the steps are slippery."

"I'm not going down there." Crusher shook his head, still holding his nose.

"Baby," Jason muttered. "What's down there?"

"My brothers."

"I HOPE you know that I'm not really authorized to do what you're asking. Past that, I'm not even sure how I can help."

"I understand that." Mok leaned back in the uncomfortable synthetic chair. "But our mutual friend is cashing in all favors."

"Jason Burke." Michael Welford shook his head in bemusement. "How does he end up in these situations?"

"It's actually his battlesynth bodyguard that's pushing this," Mok said. "Apparently this deeply involves them somehow."

"We do owe Captain Burke a great debt, but we're in no position to offer any real military assistance," Welford said. "Earth's fleet is only a handful of the new generation ships, not to mention our crews and commanders are woefully unprepared for a sojourn deep into ConFed territory for a mission that will likely spark off a multi-front interstellar war."

"We're not asking for military assistance." Mok smiled indulgently. "We'd like you there merely as an observer. He asked for you specifically as someone who could be an intermediary for Earth in the aftermath."

"You're being a little vague."

"Intentionally so," Mok said. "We don't know each other, and there's no reason for you to trust me other than the fact Burke told you I was coming, but he seems sure that Earth will be in a position to offer aid directly after this fiasco if it goes as we think it could."

"What sort of aid?" Welford asked. The former CIA operative and one of the most notorious crime lords in the quadrant were sitting in a sparsely furnished room on Terranovus, Earth's only colony planet. Terranovus was serving as the operational hub for the Fleet and was now thriving as more people arrived each month to settle in one of the six major cities.

"Captain Burke thinks there will be a need for someone he can trust to accept a small number of political refugees," Mok said carefully. "Understand that this is merely a contingency that may happen, but if it does he would need you to talk to your government."

"Fair enough, but why us?" Welford asked. "Burke has to have other places he can go that would make more sense."

"These refugees would need to be hidden someplace where the general population not only doesn't really know them, but won't have access to communications that they could use to alert the wrong people," Mok said. "These beings are … very unique."

"And why did he send you instead of just calling himself?" Welford asked. "We have a fairly good relationship at this point and he knows my personal slip-com address."

"That was at my request," Mok said. "I felt it would be good to meet face-to-face. Humans are about to become a known player on the galactic stage and, if you're all like he is, will likely make quite an impact."

"Burke told me who you are, so you'll forgive me if I'm not all that enthusiastic about accepting everything you say at face value."

"Captain Burke knows only what I allow him to know about me." Mok bristled then calmed. "Things are not always what they seem. Putting that aside, is this a request you can honor?"

"A Pathfinder-class ship is more than capable of making the flight," Welford said. "And all of our ships are currently flying registrations pointing back to the Cridal Cooperative so we're cleared to fly through most ConFed systems. Tell Captain Burke that I'll do my very best to accommodate him, but I can't promise anything. Good enough?"

"It will have to be," Mok said, rising and sticking his hand out for Welford to grasp as he'd seen Burke do. "I thank you for your time, Administrator."

Outside the squat, utilitarian building he waited for the human guards to hustle over and escort him back across the tarmac. They walked in silence through the sweltering heat to Mok's waiting shuttle. He looked around and was struck by the paradox of the human world. All around him was evidence that they had yet to achieve what would be considered a noteworthy technical or scientific prowess, but sprinkled in among this were ships and weaponry that were significantly more powerful than some of the established powers had.

He knew Jason Burke had been very carefully shielding humanity from the outside universe and part of his strategy had been to deny Earth the technology readily available despite the good it could do. While well-meaning, his efforts had backfired when an insane synth attacked his homeworld and left behind a pile of wrecked starships and then, later, a stellar neighbor had tried to manipulate them for their own purposes.

That species, the Ull, had been providing Earth technology at a trickle so Mok was thoroughly confused by what he saw now. Humans had gone from flying ships he'd be terrified to travel on for even a short subluminal trip to three classes of starship in orbit over his head that would make the Eshquarians jealous. He knew Seeladas Dalton personally and knew her Cridal Cooperative didn't have the means to provide such tech even if they were inclined to.

It all pointed back to Burke. Somehow he had gotten his hands on technology that exceeded what was widely available in the ConFed and had given it to Earth. Mok didn't begrudge him that at all, but it was a curiosity where it came from. He made a mental note that his neural implant filed away to check his sources within the Avarian Empire. He knew Burke had extensive connections there, but if that came up dry that meant the human had yet another resource available to him and Mok wanted to know what it was.

25

"It's not so bad once you get used to it," Twingo said.

"I don't want to get used to it," Jason shot back, his voice muffled by his hand. They'd managed to get almost all the water out of the chamber and Lucky had found the controls for a system that blasted the room with a harsh detergent-mixed spray that cleared out most of the mud. Once the water jets had shut off, powerful dehumidifiers kicked on and were quickly drying the standing water. The problem was that the rancid stench from decades of standing water wasn't so easily defeated. Now it just smelled like sewage that someone had sprinkled soap on.

"Look up there." Twingo ignored his complaining. "Those are fill pipes."

"So?"

"This elaborate purging and cleaning system wasn't put in as a contingency. They'd always intended to flood it."

"I wonder why," Jason said.

"The water would hide the signature of the pods and the battlesynths themselves quite effectively," Tauless said. "Even against active scans the water wouldn't allow for a definitive reading on what's down here. It's clever … the pods don't care about the water and everything else was hardened and purpose-built."

"So what's the word on the occupants?" Jason nodded towards the thirty-seven stasis pods lined up in the arched chamber. Only thirty-six were occupied since Combat Unit 777 had disappeared before Vulban and Teludal could hide their secret.

"We've initiated the revive cycles on all the pods," Tauless said. "Readings indicate that every one of them was in stable hibernation. I don't foresee any problems."

"Unless they're not friendly when they come out of those," Twingo said.

"Lucky wouldn't take needless risks with—" Jason was cut off by a warbling screech from above. It took a moment for him to recognize that it was Kage … and he was in excruciating pain.

He sprinted for the steep flight of stairs, smashing into them as his feet slipped on the still-damp floor. Without bothering to climb them he leapt straight up out of the hole and was crossing the ground towards where Crusher and Doc were holding the thrashing Veran.

"I don't know what's wrong!" Doc shouted.

"The connection! The link is in the van!" Jason was frantic. He knew Kage had still been working on the problem of finding the source of the trouble on Khepri and had bought a remote network node that would allow his neural implants to connect to the local Nexus. "Crusher, destroy it!"

Crusher didn't hesitate for even a second. The big warrior pulled his sidearm and fired three times into the open cargo door. Kage's thrashing immediately stopped, but his eyes were unfocused and pathetic whimpers were escaping from his mouth. Jason knelt down and helped Doc lower him completely to the ground, hovering to make sure he didn't begin thrashing again and hurt himself.

"Kage? Kage!"

"Not a computer anymore." Kage seemed to be struggling to form the words before his head lolled over and he was completely unconscious.

"Captain I don't have the equipment here to give him a complete checkup," Doc said. "Ideally I'd like to shut down his neural implant but without knowing—"

"Go, now," Jason said. "You and Twingo take the vehicle and get him back to the Phoenix."

"I'll drive," Twingo said as Jason and Crusher carefully loaded the limp Veran into the back.

"What did he say to you?" Crusher asked as the vehicle rolled back across the property towards the road.

"Something about a computer," Jason said. "It didn't really make any sense."

"Captain, the first of them is waking up." Tauless approached slowly. He'd nearly jumped out of his skin from fright when Jason leapt up out of the subterranean chamber without touching the stairs.

"Let's get to it then," Jason said, still watching the vehicle pick its way among all the obstacles. "We still have a job to do here."

"ALL THIRTY-six are showing good indicators that they've safely come out of deep hibernation," Tauless said as he huddled over the control panel. He'd begun taking greater care with his terminology around Lucky, preferring “hibernation” to “storage” after the battlesynth took some offense.

"When can we wake them up?" Jason asked. "We've been here too long already and we're making a lot of noise. I can't believe that they'd just leave this place alone after leveling all the buildings … we're one satellite image away from a squad of troops hitting this spot."

"We are a few minutes from removing the stasis inhibitors," Lucky said. "After that it will vary from individual to individual, but they should all be fully functional within twenty minutes."

"Good, good," Jason said distractedly. His thoughts were still with his flighty little friend that appeared to have suffered some sort of attack. Did another slicer catch him in the system and push back? Kage was always extremely careful not to leave himself exposed, so was someone that good they could circumvent his defenses?

From the screams of pain and the apparent severity of the attack Jason had little doubt that the Veran wasn't meant to survive it. That by itself was highly unusual. Slicers were an odd group, but they very rarely attacked each other to inflict harm. To them it was all more of a game than a fight, and when they squared off with each other, using someone's network as a battleground, there were always limits to what they would do.

The last thing Kage said to him kept bouncing around in his brain like a pinball; every time it would hit he felt like he could just grab onto an idea and then it was gone. He was honest enough with himself to know that he wasn't as intellectually gifted as Lucky, Kage, or Doc, but they were all far too occupied to try and talk him through a chain of thoughts that may not lead anywhere.

"All these readings are good, Lucky," Tauless was saying. "Baseline clocks are all within norms and higher functions are beginning to reactivate. It's truly amazing how long the processing matrixes remain stable even under adverse conditions."

Something about that statement made something click in Jason's mind. "How long has the central banking AI been in operation?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Tauless said. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"It would have to be close to two thousand years now," Tauless said, looking to the ceiling as he thought about it. "It was brought online during the Second Restructuring when the ConFed was trying to consolidate its power and lay the groundwork for expansion. The history is a bit vague since it's mostly ConFed propaganda, but I know the AI was essential in allowing the ConFed to control the currencies and flow of taxes."

"Where are you going with this, Captain?" Crusher asked. Jason decided to toss the idea he'd had rolling around out there so everyone could look at it and pick it apart.

"What if we've been chasing the wrong people here?" he began. "Kage said he's been unable to dig down into the layers of bureaucracy here on Khepri to find out where things began, why the battlesynth recall was activated. What if the AI has been the one manipulating events?"

In the ensuing silence Jason wasn't sure if his idea was so absurd they were trying to formulate a response that would spare his feelings or if he might be on to something.

"The banking AI isn't generally considered sentient, but it has been operating continuously for so long and it is based on the early adaptive processor matrixes that allowed synths to evolve beyond their original operational software," Tauless said slowly. "What you're suggesting would normally be dismissed out of hand, but the more I think about it the more I can't unequivocally refute what you're suggesting. But what would be the point of the AI setting these events in motion?"

"What does a two-thousand-year-old sentient computer that has access to every transaction across the quadrant think about?" Jason asked with a shrug, warming up to his idea. "It's possible it may have become corrupted or it could have decided that Khepri would be better off without ConFed interference."

"Since it knows every credit transaction happening in ConFed space this explains how we were being tracked," Crusher said. "We were popping up in some random places without reporting to anyone and every time we'd have someone seemingly waiting on us."

"Then why recall the battlesynths?" Lucky asked.

"For its own protection," Jason said. "We know the facility is hardened against all but the most powerful orbital bombardment, so to get at it you'd have to approach on the ground. It recalls a force of a couple hundred battlesynths under the guise of repelling an outside attack, and by the time anybody realizes what's really happening it'll be too late."

"There's one way to know if you're correct," Tauless said. "There is an onsite defense force that would have to be eliminated. If we see the battlesynths begin clearing out the facility we'll know that whatever it intends to do will happen soon. What led you down this line of thought, Captain?"

"The attack on Kage was something that's never happened, and when we were able to disconnect him he was saying that something wasn't a computer anymore," Jason said. "It's plausible he was referring to this master banking AI—what's it called, anyway?"

"Nuuzo is what it's officially called," Tauless said. "It's an ancient High Pru'gal word that means to create order from chaos. Most people today just call it the Central Banking AI if they even talk about it at all. It's one of those things that's existed for so long that it's like air; it just is and we don't question why or how."

"Assuming the captain's premise is correct, this creates a new problem," Lucky said. "Even if every member of Lot 700 decides to help us we will not have the necessary force to overwhelm the other battlesynths that we assume will be defending the AI."

"That thought occurred to me," Jason admitted. "I'm still working on it."

"777, why have we been awakened?" a voice said from back in the chamber. They all spun and saw a battlesynth walking towards them. Jason and Crusher tensed up, waiting to see if the new arrival would be hostile or not.

"Events are happening on Khepri that may require our intervention, 707," Lucky said. "The recall beacon has been activated and our brethren may be in danger of being used for nefarious purposes."

"You have proof of this?" 707 asked.

"A reasonable amount of circumstantial evidence, yes," Lucky said. "Will you accept a direct link? It would be far more efficient."

"I trust you," 707 said and held out its hand. Lucky placed his own hand on top, palm to palm, and stood stock still for the span of a few seconds.

"Fascinating. The Master still lives … should not our first priority be to him?"

"We can do nothing further and would only endanger him should we approach," Lucky said.

"Captain Jason Burke, I find your theory of the central banking AI's possible motivations intriguing, but not conclusive," 707 said. "How do you propose to gather the proof you need?"

"Approaching the AI directly is out," Jason said. "Your brothers have numerical superiority and are near a fortified position. We pose no direct risk to them. That means, unfortunately, that we have to wait for certain events to transpire before we can determine if I was right or not."

"Unacceptable," 707 said. "The risk to the population should these events transpire would be exponentially higher than if we act preemptively. Do you think the other units would listen to us? Are the normals also affected by this recall beacon?"

"In light of the attack by two battlesynths on Zeta Vandor-6 I would not risk approaching them while their reasoning is being clouded by the beacon," Lucky said. "I have no evidence that the other synths are affected one way or another, but they have not been returning to Khepri in great numbers."

"Let us focus on assisting the others and then we will discuss this further," 707 said and walked back to where two other battlesynths were beginning to move about within their pods.

"Presumptuous sort, isn't he?" Crusher grumbled.

"He is our unit commander," Lucky said.

"He's not my commander," Crusher said. "I hope he realizes we're not looking for another leader." Lucky said nothing, but Jason, long accustomed to the battlesynth's subtle body language, could tell he was uncomfortable.

26

"He's stable, but unresponsive," Doc said. "Once back aboard I was able to disconnect the main links from his neural implant. He'll be disoriented when he awakens but there won't be any further risk of another attack."

"So you think he will wake up?" Jason asked, his voice distorted over the voice-only com channel.

"I don't see any reason why he won't," Doc said. "His brain scans all came back as normal, but there was some damage to the preprocessor channels of his implant. It would have caused the extreme pain reaction we saw due to how the information is processed by his brain, but there was no actual injury."

"Could there have been if we hadn't disconnected him?"

"Possibly," Doc said. "But more likely it would have burned out the front end of the neural implant and the pain would have gone away … but so would his ability to access external networks."

"Keep me posted," Jason said. "I could really use his help right now. We've got all Lucky's lot-mates out of stasis and moving about and we think we found a way to backtrack who ordered the recall. We're hoping that might help us prove or disprove my theory."

"You'll want to hurry, Captain," Twingo said. "It's not being widely reported but two squadrons from the Saabror Protectorate have arrived and are sitting near the outer system. The ConFed ships have begun to redeploy to face them and we're hearing rumors from spacers sitting in orbit that there are Eshquarian warships heading this way."

"That's not good news," Jason said. "Get me three ground vehicles out here; two need to be commercial versions with a large enough cargo area for thirty-six battlesynths. The sooner we get the hell away from this area the better."

"I'll do that now," Twingo said and walked out of the infirmary.

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to fly out and pick you up?" Doc asked.

"We're still hoping that we've not yet been detected," Jason said. "But keep her ready to fly in case this all goes to hell. You're going to have your hands full without Kage there as copilot, so make sure Twingo is ready to fill in as best he can."

"Understood," Doc said. "Phoenix out."

"WE'RE HOLDING position outside the orbit of the fifth planet, sir."

"Very good," Captain Jonathan Swank said. "Maintain general quarters and inform me the instant we get confirmation the ships specified by Command show up."

"Aye aye, sir."

Swank was trying to maintain a cool, calm demeanor for his crew, but his insides were churning and he couldn't seem to keep any saliva in his mouth. Command had sent orders to the Endurance ordering them to the Khepri System and to await contact from someone named Saditava Mok. The orders had come directly from Terranovus and not through normal channels back on Earth, but they were still valid orders. What was causing all the discomfort was that they were a long way from home, alone, and his sensor operators were picking up dozens of powerful warships all facing off with each other in the system.

So far the ship had only flown in the shadow of a Cridal Fend-class destroyer. The reputation and power of the Cooperative had been a comforting presence as Earth's longest-ranging ship poked around and sent reports back while the newly minted military branches scrambled to build ships and fill the ranks with qualified people. Now he felt exposed and vulnerable while he waited on this mystery contact.

Their orders stated that they were there as a contingency only and no matter what happened they were not to engage in combat operations. In fact, if the system erupted into violence or if anyone made a perceived aggressive move towards the Endurance he was to turn tail and mesh-out of the Khepri System without hesitation. It settled his frayed nerves only slightly that at least whoever was giving them orders was putting the safety of the ship and crew above all other considerations.

Watching the crowded space above Khepri Prime and the formations of ConFed and Saabror ships circling each other was fascinating. He thought back to Jason Burke and the stories he'd heard about the man. Swank had never met him, but the fact he'd been out here for so many years alone and had not only survived, but thrived, demanded a level of respect. There were also rumors floating around about someone the intel folks were calling the Viper that had supposedly been out here even longer than Burke, but he'd never been able to get anything other than a nickname.

"Officer of the Watch, please have the XO report to the bridge," Swank said. He'd been on watch for the last twenty-two hours and it was catching up with him. His ready room was right off the main bridge, so he'd be able to catch a few hours of sleep and still be ready to answer the call when this Saditava Mok showed up.

"XO is on his way up, sir."

Swank nodded his thanks to the ensign and went back to brooding over the massive display that was showing real-time sensor data. More ships were popping into the system and not too many were leaving. If someone started shooting it would get real interesting, real fast.

"IF WE ACCESS the hardline here then 722 will be able to trace all the recall and movement orders back to the source," 707 said. They were all looking at a holographic map of the capital that Tauless had projected from his tablet.

"How long would that take?" Jason asked.

"My network intrusion software has not been updated since we were put into stasis," 722 admitted. "I can make no guarantee that I will be quick."

Jason felt positively diminutive as thirty-seven battlesynths and one Galvetic warrior crowded in around him to see the display. He had also completely given up on keeping track of who was who. They all had their own unique voices and personalities, but they looked so similar he couldn't tell them apart at a glance. Only Lucky had a distinctive look with his darker-colored armor plates.

"And my code slicer is out of commission," Jason said. "Let's do it. We need to be leaving this place within the next ten minutes no matter what, and we have no other promising leads."

They quickly gathered the equipment they'd used and stashed it down in the chamber the stasis pods had been in. Jason and Crusher broke out their own weaponry and tactical harnesses, the former lamenting the fact he'd left his damn armor on the Phoenix, while Tauless worked the controls to close the chamber back up and retract the vent pipes.

The trucks Twingo had ordered were sitting along the road. They were fully automated and had been purchased using one of Omega Force's clean accounts, but if Jason's suspicions were correct he doubted the transaction had escaped notice. He'd ordered the vehicles to be lined up along the road so as not to leave any more tire tracks than necessary if someone came snooping about once they were gone. His concerns ended up being unfounded; Twingo had secured all repulsor drives and they sat hovering silently, barely disturbing the grass.

The members of Lot 700, including Combat Unit 777, divided themselves among the big cargo haulers while the biological team members got into the smaller, boxy vehicle. Jason would rather have had Lucky with him but rolling into the capital with a battlesynth sitting where anyone could see him might draw the wrong type of attention.

"We're all loaded up," Crusher said, climbing into the left front seat of the van.

"The address is entered," Tauless said. "Press execute on the display and all three vehicles will make their way there following different routes."

"Here we go." Jason let out a heavy breath and pressed the flashing icon. The vehicle pulled away smoothly, its drive making the faintest whisper as it pulled back onto the main roadway.

The ride was thankfully uneventful and short as the high-speed access tubes allowed them to bypass the heavier traffic of the outlying areas. Once they were in the heart of the capital they popped back up onto a surface roadway and continued on towards their objective: a nondescript, blocky building designated only with a number and a warning that it was property of the Kheprian government.

Jason commanded the vehicle into a lot two blocks down and waited until the larger cargo trucks caught up. Tauless slipped out and, as the only pru member of their party, walked around the entire area to see if anything looked suspicious before an entire group of battlesynths pulled up and exposed themselves to view. Jason didn't like letting him roam around since he wasn't very well-disguised and not properly trained as a forward observer, but their options were limited.

"There he is," Crusher said quietly as Tauless walked around a corner and came back to the vehicle.

"I didn't see anything unusual," he said once he'd climbed back in. "Not a lot of pedestrian traffic and the streets are empty, so the larger vehicles shouldn't have any issues."

"I want you to stay here," Jason told him. "Once we breach the perimeter we're going to be on the clock. If it looks like we're about to get pinned down in there just take this ground car back to the starport and get yourself aboard the Phoenix, preferably without being seen."

"Show time." Crusher nudged him as the first of the cargo trucks slid past the lot. He and Jason climbed out and grabbed the sling-packs their larger weaponry was in.

The trucks were sitting on the side of the road by the time they made it from the lot so, after one last look around, Jason popped the catches to open the rear doors and signaled for all of Lot 700 to exit. They piled out efficiently and quietly, the last ones out closing the doors again and executing the preprogrammed route that would send the trucks to a logistics yard six kilometers away. They would return to the same spot in two hours. Jason figured if they couldn’t find what they were after by then it would be too late anyway.

"Ready?" Jason asked.

"We are ready," 707 answered. They crossed the street through the failing light of late evening and jumped the security wall that was at least ten meters tall, Crusher grunting slightly as he pulled himself up and over.

"That door," 722 said as he crossed the open space to a formidable-looking alloy security door. He pried back the cover for the access panel and extended flexible probes from his fingertips into the device. A few seconds later the lock gave a single beep and the door popped open.

"722 is specially equipped to directly interface with other machines and computers similarly to what Kage does," Lucky said quietly to Jason. "There are only two other battlesynths left with this configuration."

"Interesting," Jason said, pulling his main weapon out of the pack and switching his ocular implants over to low-light mode when he saw the corridor behind the door was unlit. "Let's hope he's up to the task when we get in there."

The team filtered in through the door with 707 coming in last, closing it behind him.

"The building's security system has already been deactivated," 722 said. "The access point is two floors down in the sub-basement."

"Proceed," 707 said.

As they proceeded, they deployed battlesynths along the way in ones and twos to act as lookouts and defenders should the building not be as empty as it appeared. After a short run down two flights of stairs they entered another generic-looking corridor, but this one showed signs of a struggle.

The door hung open at an angle, looking like it had been forced off its hinges, and the door itself was bent completely out of shape. There were also a few blast marks here and there along the floor and on the walls as well as the pervading odor of decay that Jason knew likely meant there was a dead body or two lying around.

"These pru have been killed via blunt force trauma," 707 said when they walked into the control room and saw the three bodies that had been tossed into the corner. Two looked like security personnel and one wore civilian clothes. There was also a normal synth that had been torn limb from limb.

"This looks like the handiwork of some of your cousins," Jason said. "Any reason they'd attack this place?"

"It's one of three hub points in Cenk Vale that allows hardline connectivity into the entire defensive grid," 722 answered. "But all of the data lines are encrypted, this is just a routing station … I am not sure what they hoped to accomplish here."

"Begin your task," 707 said. "We will continue to investigate."

"Why would whoever is behind all this send battlesynths to trash a network routing station and then just leave the bodies lying about?" Jason asked Crusher and Lucky.

"It is possible they were after the same access point that we are," Lucky said.

"One of the pru had his hand ripped off," Crusher observed. "Maybe they needed him to unlock part of the network for them, or at least a biometric reading."

"Could be," Jason said as he watched 722 begin working at the main terminal.

"The Lord Archon is correct," the specialized battlesynth said. "One of the deceased pru is Administrator Loval. His credentials were used to unlock several restricted nodes including orbital defenses, orbital surveillance and sensors, and the Kheprian Emergency Defensive System."

"What's that last one?" Jason asked.

"It is the system that would be activated in the event of an attack on Khepri Prime," 707 said. "It handles coordinating between defensive forces, sending alerts to the public, and issuing distress calls to allies."

"It's also an AI system?"

"Correct. It's not the most advanced system, but it is sufficient for its task."

"And it has ties into your entire military data grid?"

"Correct. Why is that important, Captain Burke?"

"722, I would back out of whatever you're doing right now," Jason said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Combat Unit 722 stiffened, let out a warbling cry, and then fell forward into the terminal, smashing the control interface before he rolled off and hit the floor.

"He is … non-functional," another battlesynth said after checking 722 over.

"What's that mean? Did he get turned off?" Crusher asked.

"Combat Unit 722 is dead," Lucky said. "Non-functional is how we express a unit going offline permanently."

"We need to get out of here, right now!" Jason barked. "Quickly, everyone get the hell out of here before we get overrun!"

"What are you blabbing about?" Crusher demanded even as Jason spun him around and shoved him through the door.

"Split up when we hit the surface and meet at rally point bravo and do not talk about it out loud until we're out of the building," Jason shouted as he ran. "Avoid contact at all costs once we're out!"

To their credit, the members of Lot 700 did not waste time debating the merit of the little human's orders. They quickly retraced their steps, 707 carrying his fallen comrade over his shoulders.

They burst through the heavy security door and into the night, Jason not slowing at all as he leapt over the wall, landing hard and rolling his ankle on the other side. Lucky and Crusher came down beside him and they ran back towards where Tauless was sitting in the rented ground car while the other battlesynths quickly dispersed and disappeared down alleys and side-roads.

"What happened?" Tauless said as they climbed into the vehicle and slammed the door shut.

"Not now!" Jason said. "Get us going, head back to the spaceport. Manually enter the directions, keep off the Nexus as much as possible."

"What the hell is going on?" Crusher asked.

"I'd say I just proved my theory," Jason said as the vehicle pulled onto the road and accelerated away from the building they'd just escaped from. "We were being watched in there. As soon as I warned 722 to back out of the network something killed him just like it tried to do to Kage. It had allowed him access because it was likely trying to analyze him at the same time."

"To what end?"

"Since battlesynth minds aren't something easily sliced into from what I understand, I think it was trying to figure out what a group of battlesynths was doing there and why they weren't being influenced by the inhibitor and recall signals," Jason said.

"So we're heading back to the ship?" Tauless asked.

"No," Jason said. "The rally point we set up near the spaceport. I want to make sure we're all together again before we try and get to the Phoenix."

"Try?" Crusher asked.

"I don't know how extensive its ability to track us is," Jason said. "The Phoenix is vulnerable while she's on the ground, so once we get there I want to be in the air quickly."

"There were four battlesynths in the vehicle that just passed us," Lucky said. "They were heading towards the network hub and they were not members of Lot 700."

"I saw," Jason said. "Hard to miss them since they were all in full combat mode."

Nobody said anything as the implications were clear. Whoever was giving orders to the battlesynths on Khepri was now hunting them.

27

"Only three others are missing," 707 said quietly. They were standing in an empty hangar that serviced small surface to orbit shuttles that sat on the periphery of the spaceport. "I would like to know your thoughts on what happened to 722."

"My crewman suffered a similar attack," Jason said. "But since he's a biological being with a computer interface we were able to stop it in time. When you said that someone had used the attack on that building to gain access to certain parts of the defensive network, I suspected the central banking AI was behind it. Normally those would be systems with no connectivity to each other, but it needs access to the defensive networks to maintain control of the Kheprian military assets.

"It sent battlesynths to a lightly defended access point and used them to provide a route for it to directly access the Emergency Defense System AI. I suspect it was able to overwhelm it and assume control. After that it wasn't too much of a leap to think that it was watching us the whole time we were in there, trying to figure out why there were thirty-seven battlesynths completely beyond its reach."

"Fascinating," 707 said. "And when you warned 722 to extricate himself, it attacked."

"That was a serious mistake on my part," Jason admitted. "I'm truly sorry about that."

"I do not blame you, Captain Burke," 707 said. "It was an unfortunate loss, but one that can happen to any soldier. What will your next move be?"

"I feel like we have confirmation that our suspicions regarding that AI are well-founded," Jason said. "At least enough to take action."

"Do we need to take action at all?" Crusher asked. "There's no dishonor in strategic retreat in the face of an enemy that holds so many advantages."

"Lucky? 707? Is there any way to hand this back over to the Kheprian authorities at this point?" Jason asked.

"The suspected AI infiltration into the defense network is problematic," 707 said. "If you, an alien and outsider, went to the local authorities you would either be ignored or given a warning for disturbing the peace. If one of us went we would likely be ordered to turn ourselves in to Ministry of Martial Affairs for evaluation.

"The main issue is that there have been no overt moves yet that cannot be explained. The bodies in the network hub station would likely be viewed as an isolated crime and be investigated by local law enforcement. The recall order appears to be legal and in response to a credible threat. If any of us went claiming that what many pru consider to be nothing more than a public utility has become sentient and nefarious I do not think you will get the response you are looking for."

"And if we do nothing?"

"You've already laid that out," Crusher sighed. "I hate the ConFed, but you're right … the amount of suffering that would take place in the void created if they just collapsed would be unacceptable. But you have to realize we can't just attack that hardened facility, we'd be dead before we made it to the door."

"I've been giving that some thought—"

"You have no idea how little that comforts me."

"—and I think there are a few alternatives to trying to fight a couple hundred battlesynths head-on," Jason said. "Tauless, what happens if the inhibitor and recall beacon signals are shut off?"

"The battlesynths that are affected will no longer be coerced into blindly following the orders coming from through the Ministry," Tauless said. "Theoretically their individuality should reassert itself immediately."

"Theoretically?"

"The inhibitor system has never been activated before," Tauless said. "I only know what the technical specifications say as there is no precedence for this. It doesn't turn the battlesynths into automatons … it's more of a suppressive system. They're … encouraged … to follow orders that they otherwise might disagree with and refuse."

"I believe there will be a brief period of disorientation, but they should no longer be a threat," Lucky said. "Is the signal's origin centrally located and accessible?"

"It is a single node," Tauless said slowly. "The signal propagates out through the slip-com system and over local networks to provide blanket coverage over Khepri, but as you would imagine the node is not just lying about unprotected."

"I'm listening," Jason said.

"This system is hundreds of years old, so fortunately that means it's not on one of the Ministry's orbital facilities," Tauless said. "My father made specific notes regarding the inhibitor and its installation. It's on the southern continent in a hardened building on a mostly disused base."

"So it's all military there?" Crusher asked. "Better and better … we could just take the Phoenix and wipe out the facility from high-altitude."

"Except that the Kheprian military would be considered innocent in all this," Jason said. "At least, we assume they are. Let's not even talk about the ramifications of what happens to us no matter if we're right or wrong … a surgical strike is one thing, bombarding a Pillar World from orbit is another."

"You suck all the joy out of everything," Crusher muttered.

"We'll need to—" Jason was cut off as his com unit began chirping. He looked at the incoming address and opened the channel. "Go ahead."

"It's starting," Doc said. "ConFed battlegroups began moving to intercept the Saabror ships, but then the Protectorate called in reinforcements that must have been sitting just outside the system boundary. A few warning shots have been fired, but they're still closing on each other."

"Damn," Jason sighed. "We're out of time. Doc, go ahead and begin calling for uplift clearance, we're on our way to you."

"We're leaving?" Crusher asked.

"Repositioning," Jason corrected. "I want the Phoenix off the ground and it looks like we'll be heading south no matter what. Let's get her out over the water and into a holding pattern to give us some breathing room. Lucky, if you could get your lot-mates ready to move?"

"We overheard the conversation, Captain," 707 said. "We are ready now."

"Let's get to it, then," Jason said. "I want four groups staggered at random intervals no greater than five minutes. We're hauling ass across the parking apron to the Jepsen DL7 you see with the marker lights blinking. First group on me."

"SIXTEEN ESHQUARIAN WARSHIPS are approaching the standoff between the ConFed and the Protectorate, sir," Similan said.

"This is about to go hot," Mok said. "The Empire wouldn't pass up an opportunity to bloody the Protectorate, but the ConFed ships are obligated to step in and defend them."

"Even though the Protectorate ships have taken up a hostile posture towards the ConFed battlegroups?" the captain of Mok's ship asked.

"Welcome to quadrant politics," Mok laughed humorlessly. "The Protectorate might be one of the seventeen Primes, but Khepri is one of the most important Pillar Worlds. On the food chain that means the ConFed would grind the Protectorate's entire holding to dust to keep Khepri safe."

"Do you think this will actually kick off a hot war, sir? Similan asked.

"So far they're trading plasma shots at long range, basically just warning flashes," Mok said. "Once the first missiles fly that will be—"

"Missile launch!" a sensor operator called out. "Two missiles fired at the Saabror formation from a ConFed frigate."

"And there we go," Mok sighed. "Captain, please reposition us to the other side of the system. I do not wish to be caught up in this."

"At once, sir."

"SIR, Saditava Mok's ships are moving to the other side of this system. Sensors have detected three missiles fired at the Saabror Protectorate formation of ships from a ship designated by the database as belonging to the ConFed."

"Let's follow his lead," Captain Swank said. "Helm, backtrack our course and take us around the system along the perimeter. At no point do I want to be closer to this conflict than we are right now."

"Aye aye, sir."

"How much longer do we risk remaining here, sir?"

"Until we feel like the Endurance could be caught up in any side fighting or reinforcements for either side arrive," Swank said to his XO. "I want to at least honor whatever agreement was made with Terranovus in good faith, but I won't risk an Earth ship being identified as having been involved."

"Very good, sir."

While the Endurance pulled smoothly out of orbit and flew out for the system boundary, Swank pulled up a window on the terminal attached to the command chair. He quickly composed a status report, attaching accompanying sensor data, and forwarded it to Communications to be sent immediately to Command via slip-com. The message was partially to cover his own ass in the event the mission wasn't fully sanctioned at the highest levels and partially to give Terranovus the chance to rethink having a single human ship sitting in the middle of what was about to become a warzone between three superpowers.

28

"That's still a tough nut to crack," Jason remarked as Tauless wrapped up his briefing. The Phoenix was in a long, orbital pattern over the Khepri's eastern ocean at an altitude of thirteen thousand meters. They'd filed a flight plan as “post maintenance flight” so that gave them some time before any sharp-eyed controller became suspicious. It was better to remain within the atmosphere and deal with flight traffic controllers than to pop back up into orbit and then have to renegotiate getting back down to the surface.

"But doable," Twingo said. "If what we're seeing here is still accurate, there's not an increased amount of defense around the emplacement."

"That we can see," Crusher argued. "But we're only looking at the center structure here that houses the transponder. We won't be able to just drop down right there and walk on it without all the troops along the periphery seeing and swarming us."

"We can help with that," 707 said. He and Lucky were the only battlesynths on the bridge in the planning session simply because of space constraints. 707 insisted it wasn't necessary to have the other thirty-five there and that he'd give them a mission brief after they had decided upon a course of action.

"If we are inserted here"—he pointed at the beach that butted up against tall cliffs on the northern coast—"we can be at the compound within an hour. We can provide the needed distraction to cover your insertion."

"By engaging Kheprian troops at the gate?" Jason frowned.

"Only if necessary," 707 said. "Our first targets will be to take out the gun towers along the barrier wall and then disable or destroy the ground-based sensors and communications.

"Once we do this, however, time will be short. If the rogue AI has indeed been able to supplant the Emergency Defense System computer then it will know what is happening in real-time. What ordnance do you have that can be carried into the installation that is powerful enough to ensure the transponder is destroyed even if not detonated within optimum range?"

"Just one that we can carry," Jason looked at Twingo. "How long to prep Big Betty?"

"You're sure you want to use that damn thing?" Twingo asked. "We've never really fully tested it."

"Not what I asked."

"An hour, maybe less," Twingo said, his ears fluttering in his species' version of a shrug. "It's not a difficult procedure, but safely charging it is time-consuming."

"Then get to it," Jason said. "We don't have anything else aboard other than a ship-buster missile that can do the job, and we've already decided that's out of the question. Even if we could reprogram one to hit a ground target without Kage's help the collateral damage is unacceptable."

"How is your comrade?" 707 asked.

"He's awake and appears to be uninjured," Doc said. "I'm keeping his neural implants disconnected as a precaution, and the withdrawal symptoms are quite extreme so he's partially sedated right now."

"That is good," 707 said. "Are we settled on a strategy?"

"The less moving parts the better, so yeah … I can't think of a simpler way to hit this fast and hard without blowing half the peninsula off the map," Jason said and looked around the bridge at the concerned faces of his crew.

"I know going into harm's way to protect the ConFed goes against everything we stand for, but I think we all understand this is the right thing to do."

"777, which team are you deploying with?" 707 asked.

"I will stay with my own unit and accompany Captain Burke," Lucky said without hesitation.

"I will assign five others to go with you to increase the odds of success," 707 said. "That will keep your total complement down to a manageable number while increasing your effectiveness significantly."

"Agreed," Jason said. His first instinct had been to refuse and say that Omega Force worked better alone, but the other battlesynth was right: a three-man team would be a bit light. When considering that their movements and intentions might already be known, he was almost tempted to ask for more than the five battlesynths.

"We'll leave this course in … one hour and make our way south."

"My unit will be ready," 707 said and walked from the bridge.

"I don't doubt it," Jason said.

"CAPTAIN BURKE, glad to see you're not sitting in a Kheprian prison," Mok said once the video resolved.

"Not as glad as I am," Jason said. "I see the Endurance is sitting out there with your ships. Tell Captain Swank that I'll be in contact as soon as I feel he's seen everything he needs to and then he can get the hell out of here."

"If you don't mind my asking, why is he here if he's not actually transporting them back?" Mok asked.

"I want a representative from Earth or Terranovus present when things go to hell," Jason said. "The members of Lot 700 will be attacking Kheprian military installations and firing on pru soldiers. No matter how this shakes out, they'll be considered criminals and face immediate dismantling under current Kheprian law.

"As soon as we have them aboard, the Phoenix will make a direct line out of here and take them to Terranovus after they request asylum. That planet is still mostly abandoned, so they'll be able to stay and regroup in relative peace until they figure out what they'll do next. Captain Swank is here to accept their plea and to alert Terranovus that we're inbound. Having a starship captain accept their request under the current charter requires Earth's government to honor that agreement."

"That makes sense, I suppose," Mok said. "So why am I here? The Empire's ships have arrived, but I don't have any way to contact them to see if they're operating under Arx's former orders or if my associate was able to nullify that."

"We'll be leaving before the real fun starts, I believe," Jason said. "Once the inhibiter signal is gone, the battlesynths protecting the banking AI will be disoriented, but the majority will no longer be on-task. I think that's when the Protectorate fleet up there will get orders to attack."

"To what end? You've never been clear on what the endgame would be if your theory holds true," Mok said. "If the AI became sentient, wouldn't it be able to accomplish its goals through subversion?"

"I'd imagine if it decided to begin disallowing access to the central banking systems someone would quickly step in to either reboot or reload it," Jason said. "As long as those battlesynths are there, it's virtually untouchable and it wouldn't take long before it would be able to completely destabilize the ConFed beyond its ability to recover.

"That's all just speculation, of course. For all I know this could be an elaborate suicide attempt by an intelligence that's thousands of years old and just wants it all to end. Anyway … I want you here to simply observe and record. Once the fuse is lit there are going to be a lot of people caught by surprise and with no idea as to what the hell just happened. Your knack for knowing things will come in handy about then, along with your ability to get it into the hands of the right people."

"True, but I could have done that from the comfort of my own home … the one you didn't burn to the ground for fun," Mok complained.

"You don't want to miss all the excitement," Jason said with a smile.

"For someone who's supposed to be a dumb, hard-case mercenary you are quite the schemer, Captain," Mok said. "You're juggling a lot right up until the end. Why do this? Earth's fortunes aren't tied to the ConFed, S'Tora is isolated … why stick your neck out this far?"

"It started with the promise to help a friend, but in the end I can't just walk away without at least trying to head this off," Jason said. "If the ConFed disappears overnight then—well, we've already discussed what will happen."

"Nothing pleasant, yes, I agree," Mok said. "Very well, Captain … I'll let Captain Swank know to be expecting your official call and then my ships will sit here and watch this entire drama unfold."

"Thanks," Jason said. "If I survive, I owe you one."

JASON LEFT the com room and made a direct line for Engineering to check on Twingo's progress before prepping his own gear. Big Betty was still technically untested despite how simple it was. One slip-up during the charging phase meant an explosion of such magnitude they'd be lucky if anything bigger than a grain of sand remained of the Phoenix afterward.

"Just about done," Twingo said when he saw Jason poke his head in.

"How did it go?"

"Couldn't have been easier even if it was the tensest thing I've ever had to do while in this outfit." Twingo checked the readings one more time before turning away. "The charging is complete, now we're reestablishing all the safety barriers on both sides before disconnecting it. Who's the poor bastard that has to carry this?"

"Me," Jason said. "I'll be in my heavy armor so the weight won't be an issue."

"The thought of running through enemy fire with this strapped to my back—" Twingo trailed off and shuddered. "No thanks."

"Once it's fully ready, pack it up and put it in the armory," Jason said. "I’m going to check in on Kage and then we'll be hopping out of this pattern and heading to the target."

"Are you sure about this, Jason?" Twingo asked before he left.

"How do you mean?"

"We're getting ready to attack a military installation on a Pillar World based on a theory," Twingo said after he’d sat down and seemed to collect his thoughts. "We don't have any firm proof that this AI has been corrupted like you think. Your reasons are compelling, but I've watched you convince yourself of things before that weren't necessarily true.

"This is a huge risk. If you're wrong, or even if you're right, we won't be able to hide our involvement. The ConFed will hunt us down."

"You're asking if this is the hill I'm willing to die on?" Jason asked. "I never expected to live this long, Twingo. We're in a dangerous line of work and we routinely take jobs on that put us up against greater numbers and occasionally against whole governments. We've been lucky and good enough to skip out of each one, but the odds are going to catch up with us eventually.

"If this job means that we head off a scheme to destabilize a system that, while corrupt, allows trillions of beings to live in relative security then I'm willing to take that risk."

"And if that's not what this job is?" Twingo asked. "What if you're wrong?"

"You think I'm wrong?"

"Oh, I've listened to your line of reasoning with an open mind and I realize you're not quite the back-world simpleton you try to pretend to be, but this is still a stretch," Twingo said. "I'll agree that there's something definitely happening revolving around the banking system, but I'm not convinced that the master AI has become sentient and then suddenly decided to trash the entire quadrant just because. I feel like we've missed a big piece of the puzzle here and that it's not too late to simply withdraw and see how things play out."

"And what of the battlesynths being used against their will guarding that facility?" Jason asked. "What if it shakes out that I was right and they strike it from orbit, killing hundreds of them? That's something the ConFed would do even if it was already too late to stop it."

"You're willing to die for them?"

"There are billions of humans." Jason shrugged and pushed off the wall. "One less won't be noticed. Once the battlesynths are gone, that's it … there will never be any more."

"So you're doing this for Lucky?"

"My mind is made up, Twingo," Jason snapped, suddenly irritated at the inquisition. "Yes, I owe Lucky more than I'll likely be able to repay. To allow him to continually risk his life for humanity, as he has, and not be willing to do the same for his people wouldn't say much about me as a friend … or as a man."

"I just want you to have your thoughts and motivations very clear in your own mind before this starts," Twingo said, unruffled. "The device will be ready and in the armory by the time you're ready to get suited up."

Jason didn't respond to his friend. He fled Engineering before Twingo could dig in any further on his motivations or the fact that he was planning an assault on what even he would concede were flimsy justifications. As he turned the corner he slammed into an immobile wall.

"Damnit, Lucky!"

"I apologize, Captain," Lucky said. "I came to inform you that the Saabror Protectorate fleet has begun broadcasting demands."

"What the hell?" Jason ran towards the bridge, leaving Lucky standing near the port engineering bay. He was so frazzled that he didn't think to ask why it appeared the battlesynth had been eavesdropping on his conversation.

"The ConFed had fired a few low-yield missiles at the Saabror flanking ships," Doc said as Jason ran onto the bridge. "They were detonated well short of the fleet."

"What about these demands?" Jason asked.

"Here you go," Doc said and turned back to his terminal. On the pilot's right multi-function display a video started, opening with the crest of the Saabror Protectorate.

"We will not tolerate any further aggression towards our fleet," an alien on the monitor began. Jason had no idea what species it was, but the tendrils that hung from its cheeks were very distracting.

"The Saabror Protectorate has come to the aid of Khepri to ensure the integrity of galactic commerce is not diminished by ConFed overreach and aggression. If the current ConFed war fleet does not withdraw from the Khepri System, we will assume that their purpose here is aggression, and respond accordingly. Their presence is a threat that cannot be ignored.

"If the uninvited and unwelcome Eshquarian fleet does not withdraw immediately, we will be forced to view their presence as aggression as well."

"Short and pointless," Jason said as the video paused and then repeated. "Any response from the ConFed?"

"No … but local media in Cenk Vale is reporting that battlesynths have been spotted moving into a government facility and forcing out everyone that works there. Government officials have been quoted as saying the lockdown is in response to the increasingly hostile exchanges within the system."

"Smoke and mirrors." Jason leaned back in the pilot's seat. "The trick is finding out who is working what angle. The warning shots, the meaningless posturing … it was designed to allow the battlesynths to completely secure and lockdown a hardened facility without raising suspicion."

"Given that our operating theory is that someone wants to destabilize the ConFed, wouldn't we have to assume the Saabror Protectorate, by their presence alone, is working along towards that goal?" Doc asked.

"Possibly," Jason said. "But ultimately meaningless. Let's prep for our course change … I need you in the copilot seat."

Before Doc had even settled into the seat and strapped in, Jason dipped the nose down and accelerated along a sweeping course that would take them south. He intended to fly beneath the air traffic control system's sensor coverage threshold and, hopefully, approach the coast of the southern continent without being detected.

Twingo's questions had shaken Jason's resolve, but the drama being played out in orbit convinced him that he was right. But then why was he so apprehensive about the upcoming op? Before, when he knew he was on firm moral ground and backed up with irrefutable evidence, he'd gone into battle with his friends without a second thought. But this time … there was something nagging at the back of his mind that he was having trouble ignoring.

"BURKE HAD BETTER HURRY UP," Mok said as he watched the scene unfolding on the other side of the Khepri System. "These guys are primed for a fight and I don't think either is willing to back down."

"How long before either side starts calling in reinforcements, I wonder," Similan said.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mok said.

So far all either side had done was fire plasma cannon bolts from out of range or detonate missiles in front of the other's formation, but now the ships were redeploying in ways that made Mok think they were about to really mix it up. The frigates and cruisers were dropping back behind the destroyer screens, and on the ConFed side the three battleships, a rare sight by themselves, were moving out front to put their big guns in range. If all they intended to do was fly back and forth and yell at each other they would have likely stayed strung out in a long line as they had when they entered the system.

His reverie was interrupted by one of his staff sprinting onto the bridge of the ship looking wild-eyed and breathless. She was staring at Mok with a mixture of fear and astonishment.

"You have something for me?" Mok prompted.

"It's Minister Arx … he … he's—"

"Take a moment to compose yourself and then give me the information concisely," Mok said.

"Minister Arx has been freed," she was finally able to get out. "The holding ship was attacked and Eshquarian Imperial Guards boarded, killed Syodo, and left with Arx."

"And our people?" Mok demanded, now standing.

"Minor injuries. One of the crew who remained conscious said that Arx was walking out unrestrained and appeared to be giving orders."

"I hate loose ends," Mok fumed. "How could they have tracked that ship? It only drops out of slip-space for fuel and provisioning at randomly chosen locations."

"Sir, there's an Eshquarian battlefleet sitting in this system … perhaps now would be a good time to withdraw," Similan said. "I suggest we leave the two other ships to complete the mission but get you to safety. If Arx has been freed and his position hasn't been compromised within the Empire, it's almost certain he'll come after you."

"Get me in touch with the human ship," Mok said.

29

The Phoenix raced up the shoreline, flying so low only the tips of her stabilizers would have been visible from anyone looking out over the ocean from the cliffs above. Jason stood near the hatchway while Doc and Twingo piloted the ship, the urge to take over as they flew low-level over the water strong.

"Two minutes!" Twingo called over the intercom.

Right on cue, Doc pulled back and flared the Phoenix to a steady hover thirty meters over the water nearly half a kilometer off the beach. Twingo reached over and hit the controls that would drop the rear ramp and open the pressure doors. From a monitor on the port bulkhead Jason watched as thirty-one battlesynths dove off the ramp and into the water.

Combat Unit 707 had picked the spot for their incursion. He liked that the water was shallow and the surf was mild that time of day. The battlesynths would be able to use their repulsors to quickly make it to the beach without expending too much energy, allowing the Phoenix to be long gone by the time they actually made landfall.

"Closing her back up," Twingo said. "You're clear."

"Pulling out," Doc said and throttled up. The Phoenix smoothly climbed slightly and angled back out seaward. They would need to give the battlesynth force enough time to cover ground and begin their diversion before commencing with their own assault. They would loop far out and around and then come in over the base low and fast from the west.

Jason hoped that the base had the same general sense of complacency that he'd observed on the rest of Khepri. Otherwise it was going to be a bumpy ride going in.

COMBAT UNIT 707 fired his repulsors one more time, surging towards the shallow trench in the water where he'd chosen to make landfall. He could sense his comrades behind him, all anxious to be back in action. While there had been no sensation during his stasis, no realization of where he was, there was definitely a sense of lost time when he'd been awakened.

He had agreed to remain hidden when the Master had come to him with the flaws they'd discovered in the other battlesynths, but once he'd learned how long they'd been lying dormant, buried in a muddy hole, he'd become angry. The Master had forgotten about them, had betrayed their trust.

The other subject that weighted heavily on him was the change in 777. It was inconceivable that he'd taken up with a band of alien biologicals—had taken a name!—like he was one of them. When he'd opted to remain at his human commander's side rather than accompany his lot-mates, 707 couldn't help but feel let down. What had happened to 777 while they were in stasis that caused him to relate more with them than with his own kind?

"Shoreline is clear."

"Copy. First unit, proceed."

"Second unit standing by."

707 broke the surface until his eyes were just above the water, watching as eight of his battlesynths raced across the short, sandy beach and began climbing the sheer rock face. They found hand and footholds or they used their strength to jab a flattened hand into the stone to anchor themselves. They were up and over in less than a minute.

"First unit, report," he said over the open channel.

"Clear. There are no enemy forces within sight and I detect no active scanners operating in the area," 760 reported.

"Proceed, second unit," 707 said and surged up and out of the water. He ran right up to the base of the cliff and fired his repulsors at full power, sending him rocketing up the rock face and over the lip in a second. He could hear the roar of repulsors as the rest of his unit did the same.

A full-burn ascent was noisy enough he wanted to send up part of his force to clear the area before the risk of giving away their position. Lot 700 regrouped, redeployed into four smaller squads, and then took off at a dead sprint towards the base that lay ahead of them.

There were two lines of scrubby trees that covered their approach, but they had no doubt the automated systems would pick up their signature eventually. The question would be whether the pru operators would perceive them as a threat before it was too late.

"Initial target package in sight."

"Turrets appear dormant … no active scans detected."

"All teams clear for initial incursion," 707 said calmly as all thirty-one battlesynths in the unit broke from cover and converged on their individual targets at lightning speed, all of them in full combat mode and ready to rumble.

They fired simultaneously, brilliant red bolts of energy blasting out of arm-mounted cannons and tearing into the six turrets that faced the sea. There were shouts from inside the compound, but before any of the defensive weapons could be brought to bear the battlesynths had rendered them inoperable, two of them tumbling from their articulated mounts with a crash.

"Phase two," 707 said.

Ten of them huddled near the gate and began cutting through the locks. As soon as they were through, the remaining twenty-one leapt to the top of the barrier wall. The defenders inside were looking at aggressors coming at them from the main gate, as they would expect, but also from all around their perimeter wall and it caused them to hesitate for just a split-second too long.

Working methodically the battlesynths began stunning any armed pru they saw and destroying any vehicle that made its way towards them. As planned, they swung east and began working their way through the base, splitting up and remaining elusive as the defenders of the installation, many of them regular synths, tried to organize and push back.

"Alpha Strike to Omega One, phase one complete, phase two underway," 707 said over the com as two of his battlesynths tore the power cables from a ground tracking sensor station. All around him the confusion increased as more defenders rushed out and those in charge began to shake off the lethargy and order their people into a coordinated counterstrike.

It wouldn't be long before they would have to fully commit to killing the defense force or withdraw. He hoped it was enough time for Captain Burke to do what he claimed he could.

"THIRTY SECONDS!" Twingo's voice came over the intercom while Jason, Crusher, Lucky, and five other battlesynths held onto anything they could in the cargo hold as the Phoenix bounced around in the air.

"Are you sure you want to carry the device, Captain?" Lucky asked for the tenth time.

"Yes, damnit! You just make sure I can get close enough to use it," Jason said. "It's not that heavy and I'm wearing powered armor."

Before Lucky could make another clumsy attempt at relieving Jason of the powerful bomb attached to his back, the engine pitch changed dramatically and they felt the ship drop. With eight people deploying out of the Phoenix they'd bumped up the speed of the transit beam so that they would hit the ground with a hard jolt rather than float to a soft landing.

"Go! Go! Go!" Jason shouted once the floor hatch had irised fully open and the lighting along the rim went from red to green. Lucky and two of his lot-mates went first, then Jason and Crusher, followed by the remaining three battlesynths.

Once he was out of the distortion of the wavering blue transit beam, Jason paused for just a heartbeat to take in the scene. This was not some soft target that was sitting fat, dumb, and happy. He could hear the fight being put up by 707's team a kilometer away and he was aware they were already taking fire, as was the Phoenix as she tried to pull away. Two powerful anti-aircraft cannons blasted the belly of his ship, causing her to list and dip before Doc could get the power up to get out of range.

"Break contact!" Crusher roared, firing his heavy plasma rifle into a cluster of pru soldiers and normal synths that were huddled behind a concrete caisson that was barely big enough to provide cover. The battlesynths all moved to provide Jason cover as he sprinted for the recessed entrance of the hardened bunker that was their objective.

Once he slid to a stop behind the supporting buttress, he detached the device and put it gingerly in the corner before stepping back around to offer his friends cover. He brought his railgun around and selected the highest velocity setting, sending three hypersonic rounds into the caisson. The structure exploded under the onslaught and pru soldiers were sent flying. A momentary stunned silence ensued after the sound and destructive fury of Jason's preferred weapon, but it didn't last. More soldiers began moving up, leap-frogging each other to cover and advancing on where Jason's team was crammed into the doorway.

"These aren't a bunch of lackeys sitting around some forgotten base!" Crusher shouted. "These are seasoned troops and they were ready for us!"

"Too late to worry about it now!" Jason shouted back as a plasma bolt exploded off one of the battlesynth's shoulders. The pru soldiers were mostly ceremonial on a planet that didn't really believe in employing violence to solve problems, and as such they weren't the most skilled fighters Jason had ever come up against … but there were a lot of them. Far more than there should have been.

"No damage," the battlesynth said. "Glancing shot."

"Get the door open!"

"Proceeding."

The others put down withering cover fire while one of Lucky's brothers began cutting into the locks. With 722 dead and Kage out of commission they made no attempt to break into the building via the locking control panel. As it was, it would be a race to get the door open before the base defenders moved up a technical and blew them completely out of the alcove.

"We're in!" Crusher grabbed Jason and pulled him towards the door. Before he could turn and grab the device, Jason saw Lucky scoop it up and move towards the door himself. Once they were all in and the doors were shut, the volume of fire increased, the alloy heating up but holding.

"Weld it," Jason said as he covered the area directly behind the door. It was eerily quiet inside the antechamber they found themselves in. The lights had come up automatically when the first battlesynth had entered, and it looked like a security checkpoint complete with an armored window by a heavy alloy hatch at the end.

"This place is too heavily built for only housing some communications gear," Crusher said.

"It is mostly disused now, but when the base was fully active this building served as the master cryptography station," one of the battlesynths said. Jason had no way to differentiate between them even if he actually knew all their call numbers. "All military encrypted slip-com channels were routed and monitored here."

"Let's hope there's more than one way out of here," Jason said. "Lucky, if you would?" With obvious reluctance the battlesynth returned the device to the back of Jason's armor with a magnetic clank.

"Get the door and we'll get this party started."

Crusher stepped up and slapped two breaching charges over the massive hinges, activated them, and took a step back. Unlike the old explosive charges they used to carry, the new and improved breachers that Twingo had designed fired a controlled plasma stream directly into whatever it was placed on. They were so effective that Jason and Crusher had twice used them to get through a door without anyone inside even knowing they were there until it was too late. The older explosive type, in addition to being equally dangerous to the people outside the door, gave the occupants plenty of time to aim a weapon in their direction.

While substantial, the door and its hinges were made of an older, softer alloy that gave way quickly before the onslaught of cutting plasma. Within minutes, the door popped and sagged now that it was no longer supported by the hinges. Two battlesynths rushed to pull it free before the metal cooled and hardened, while the others kept their weapons at the ready.

Someone on the other side must have gotten nervous and a single blaster bolt hit the door just as it was being moved. Jason nodded to Crusher who pulled a grenade off his harness and walked up to the right of the doorframe.

"Pull it a little bit," he said. Once there was a small gap he tossed the grenade in. "Close it!"

The battlesynths slammed the door back into place just before the grenade detonated. With a mighty whump the door kicked back free of the frame and sent them both tumbling.

"What the hell yield was that?!" Jason shouted.

"Whatever it goes up to," Crusher shrugged with a smile.

"All enemy troops are dead," one of the battlesynths said.

"No shit," Jason muttered. "Let's try to be a little more careful here. These aren't necessarily the enemy, they're just—" He was cut off by a powerful plasma blast coming from deeper down the corridor and taking him full in the chest.

Two things happened at once. Four of the battlesynths that had been covering the doorway rushed in and opened up with a blistering salvo, setting off secondary explosions deeper in the facility. Also, the explosive device that had been secured to his back suddenly wasn't. He tried to move his arms to grab it, but something was holding them back. He slammed into the ground and looked over to his right just as Lucky dove and caught the device, cradling it to him as he rolled to a stop.

"You were saying?" Crusher asked, looking down at him. Jason tried to get up and his movements were again hampered by something. Before he could query the armor as to whether it was him or it that was injured, the helmet display shut off and he could feel the neural link disengage abruptly.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, the sound now echoing inside the helmet without the active noise cancelling. He reached his tongue out as far as he could and pressed a recessed button three times, activating the ejection sequence and hoping that everyone was clear when the big parts started coming off.

With a symphony of compressed gas charges and mechanical latches disengaging, the armor fell away from him in pieces. He was relieved that he was uninjured, but he was also extremely vulnerable now that he was only wearing the skin-tight, moisture-wicking base layer.

"This is going well." He climbed to his feet with a groan and grabbed his railgun. Having learned his lesson before from similar experiences of having to ditch his armor, he pulled an actual utility belt free from the pile of parts that held his holstered sidearm, grenades, and extra railgun mags. When he slid it around his waist and mated the two ends, the belt automatically resized and secured itself.

"I'm glad I didn't let them talk me into the model that you have to be naked to get into."

"We're all glad for that," Crusher said.

"If I survive this, remind me to pen a very strongly worded letter to the Disa Company regarding their product’s ability to shrug off a single plasma shot," Jason said, kicking the helmet across the room. "Over-priced piece of shit!"

"The outer door will not last much longer," Lucky said, still holding the device. Jason eyed it and realized that his friend would now get his wish as there was no way even his enhanced musculature would allow him to carry it and keep up for any real distance.

"Everyone through and then put the door back in place behind us," Jason said. "Try to weld it into the frame if you can. Thankfully they seem hesitant to fire anything larger than small arms at their own building."

The small team quickly filed through the damaged doorway while two battlesynths wrestled the door back into place and allowed a third to begin welding it wherever metal butted up against metal. It was ugly and certainly not as strong as it had been, but it would slow their pursuers down just a bit more when they finally made it through the outer door.

Jason switched his ocular implants over to low-light and mid-wave thermal since Crusher's grenade had taken out all the lights. The damage was impressive … and disgusting. At least eight pru worth of gore was slung around the corridor, clinging to the walls and dripping from the ceiling where it didn't stick.

"You and those damn grenades," Jason muttered.

"When I find something I like, I stick with it," Crusher said defensively.

Deeper within the facility they heard klaxon alarms blaring, doors slamming shut, and enough thudding footsteps that Jason knew this wasn't going to be an easy job. They had to get in deep enough to allow the device they'd brought to work, but not so deep that they couldn't escape. Despite its age, it was still a structure built in a time when enemies could strike from orbit. If they were premature in deploying the weapon, all they would accomplish was killing a lot of pru and burying the thing they needed to destroy beneath hundreds of tons of rubble.

Jason shivered as the thin garment he wore dried off. This was not going to be easy or pleasant, but they were committed now.

30

"The ships registered to the Eshquarian Empire are backing off," the Endurance's sensor operator reported. "Saabror Protectorate and ConFed ships are now closing the distance with each other, and missiles are now impacting their shields rather than detonating short."

"How many of Saditava Mok's ships are still here?" Captain Swank asked.

"Seven, sir."

"Maintain position," Swank sighed. "So far we're not being directly threatened and none of the other affiliated ships are fleeing the area … I won't have an Earth ship be the first to turn tail and run because things are tense millions of kilometers away on the other side of that star."

"Maintaining position, aye."

Swank almost wished that he was commanding one of the new Spartan-class destroyers that were currently being outfitted at a secret base in orbit over Venus, but that would only make his single ship stand out as a threat. His unassuming, smaller Pathfinder-class was just another light cruiser in a system with hundreds of ships of similar displacement.

"Sir! One of the Saabror missiles got through!" the sensor operator practically squealed. "One of the ConFed destroyers is listing and dropping out of formation. There are hundreds of missiles now flying from both formations!"

"Calm yourself!" Swank barked. "Begin tracking and logging. Everyone look alive … XO, elevate the threat level and set readiness condition Charlie. I want the weapons and combat shields ready for quick-charging, but do not send power to the cannons or emitters yet."

"Aye aye, sir!"

"Some damn fool just kicked over a hell of a hornet's nest," Swank muttered as he took in the sensor data projected on the all-encompassing curved forward display. Both formations were too close to Khepri Prime, and once ships started coming apart or losing propulsion there was almost no way for them to avoid falling into the planet's gravity well. A lot of innocent people were about to die. He looked down at his tablet and re-read the last message from Saditava Mok before two of his ships had departed the system.

"Communications!" he said, his decision made. "Please open a channel to the slip-com node address I'm sending you."

"Yes, sir!"

"STILL NO RESPONSE from the captain's team," Twingo said. "Last update was that they made entry. 707's team is being hard-pressed by the automated defenses, but he says they're still on mission and aren't ready to withdraw just yet."

"I can help!" Kage insisted from where he was strapped into a sensor station next to Tauless. The latter had his eyes scrunched shut and wasn't talking.

"You shouldn't even be up here," Doc said as he pulled the Phoenix up into a shallow climb to bring her back around for the next run. After dropping off both assault teams, he and Twingo had taken the gunship and destroyed every antenna, junction node, and com station they could find. Within minutes of the attack, they had effectively cut the base off from the rest of the defense network. That bought them some time, but the lack of communication itself would tip off the Kheprian authorities that something was wrong. They didn't have a lot of time before someone came to investigate.

"Reengage my implants and let me help!"

"No!" Doc shouted as he lined up the main cannons for a strafing run on the last set of tower emplacements that were firing on 707's group. "Even if I wasn't otherwise busy, I'm not hooking you back in until you're fully recovered."

"Given how annoying he is I'd have to say he's about there," Twingo said. "You're locked on … just hold the trigger down and let the Phoenix do the fine corrections. We're really close to the other battlesynths and I don't want to explain to Lucky why we fragged a few of his brothers."

"Incoming slip-com channel from an Earth ship in orbit," Kage said.

"What?!" Twingo exclaimed just as the forward plasma cannons opened up and ripped a huge trench into the ground where the four gun towers had just been.

"What part of that did you not understand?"

"Put it on," Doc said. He was getting his groove back after not having flown the gunship for so long, and the new flight control systems she'd received during the upgrade made things much easier.

"This is Captain Swank from the USS Endurance," a voice said in English. Fortunately all of Omega Force had the Earth language loaded into the translation matrix of their implants. "I need to speak with Captain Jason Burke."

"That's the ship we saw hovering around that Fend-class by Pinnacle," Twingo said.

"The captain is a bit busy right now, Captain Swank," Doc said. "He's actually not aboard the Phoenix at the moment."

"I see," Swank went on. "Just a heads up; the conflict between the ConFed and Saabror Protectorate fleets just went hot and they're close enough to Khepri Prime that the risk to the population is significant. Whatever he's doing down there, you might want to tell him to pick up the pace."

"Understood, Captain," Doc said. "Phoenix out."

"This isn't good," Kage said. "We can't get a hold of the captain right now."

"Wow … you figured that out all by yourself? And without your implants working?" Twingo asked.

"Screw you! I told you that I'm—"

"Enough!" Doc snapped as more small arms fire peppered the Phoenix's ventral shields. "Pay attention to what you're doing. Kage, use the com suite and see if you can't find a way to get some message to either the captain or Lucky. I don't think Crusher is carrying anything other than a short-range tactical com unit."

"I'm on it," Kage said.

"THIS WENT to shit pretty quickly!" Jason shouted as more incoming fire raked across the alloy support pillar he was crouched behind.

They'd made it nearly to the center of the facility on the top level before they ran into overwhelming resistance. Kheprian regular military along with a couple dozen regular synths armed with some sort of high-intensity plasma burst weapon had them pinned down. The team was near where the large vent stacks that came from the heart of the facility deep underground ran up the center and out to the surface. All of the lifts had been shut down, and without a code slicer they couldn't get them working again, and the three flights of emergency stairs were too heavily defended so that was out. The idea was to use the hollow core of the building's heat extraction architecture to descend down deep enough to light off their device, but the enemy had apparently thought of that too given the number of defenders.

"WE DO NOT HAVE the numbers to overrun their position," one of the battlesynths said. "It is only a matter of time before they bring reinforcements behind us."

"When that happens we're well and truly screwed," Crusher shouted over the incoming fire. "We need to figure something—." An especially powerful blast hit the trunnion for an extendable walkway he and Lucky were hiding behind.

"Crusher!"

"I'm fine!" Crusher shouted. As the smoke cleared, Jason could see his friend had some deep lacerations along his face and neck and still-smoking shrapnel was sticking out in places on his torso.

"I will assist." A battlesynth crouched down and began pulling the pieces out, cauterizing the wounds with a laser as it went.

"Holy shit! Just leave them in!"

"That is not advisable. Please hold still."

Jason looked and saw Lucky checking over the device, but he appeared otherwise unharmed. He popped out and let loose with a few more hypersonic rounds from his railgun, momentarily silencing the incoming fire as the enemy dove for cover. The railgun had been the great equalizer in the fight, but the cooling system had been damaged from the shot that had taken out his armor—something he was still highly pissed about—and was on the verge of failure. Once it was gone they'd have no way to suppress incoming fire and he'd be down to a single plasma pistol, a grenade, and his underwear.

"Captain, we have a problem," Lucky called out.

31

The device that Jason and Lucky had been carrying through the firefight within the hardened bunker was, in fact, an antimatter warhead. It was a system devised by Jason and Twingo that siphoned anti-hydrogen and hydrogen from the heart of the Phoenix: her main reactor. More accurately, it was charged from the fuel manifolds. It stored the two components in separate magnetically isolated chambers until it was time for the fireworks.

It differed from the antimatter warheads on the ship-buster missiles they had in the arsenal in that one person could realistically carry it and, since it was fueled per-use, could be dialed in for a specific yield. For something like a surgical strike against an underground facility when they wanted to minimize collateral damage it was ideal.

"What's the issue?" Jason asked over the open com channel since he couldn’t get across to where Lucky was.

"The timer input panel was damaged by the last explosion," Lucky said. "It is completely inoperable."

"Shit!" Jason fumed. "Options?"

"Someone will need to manually detonate the device," Lucky said. "The only sure way to ensure the reaction takes place is to fire a weapon directly into the body to breach the containment fields."

"Roll it over to me," Jason said, his heart dropping as the meaning of Lucky's words sank in.

"I am sorry, Jason … I cannot do that," Lucky said. "Please get them to the surface."

Before Jason could figure out what his friend meant, six hands grabbed him in an iron-hard grip he couldn't shake free from. His weapon clattered to the ground and he realized what was happening. Lucky had made his own plans and had included his brethren before he and Crusher could find out and stop him.

"No!! NOOOOOO!!! DON'T YOU DO THIS!!!" Jason fought against the three battlesynths holding him as two others lay down covering fire and motioned for Crusher to follow.

"Let me go NOW!!! NOOOO!!!"

He put everything he had into it. Every emotion came to the surface, all the anger, hate, love, and fear fueled him as he fought to free himself. As good as his enhanced human muscles were, they were no match for what held him. His shoulder throbbed and then burst. He felt his hamstring tear and something in his abdomen let go … but still he fought, only vaguely aware that someone had picked up his railgun and was firing to keep the enemy ahead from getting a shot off.

The two battlesynths escorting Crusher tore a gaping hole into one of the fresh air vents and fired up the stack to clear out the filtration cap and fan assembly. They grabbed the dazed and injured Galvetic warrior and in a whoosh of repulsor jets went rocketing up the vent. The caps were also protected by an energy shield, but it was designed to keep enemy fire out, not trap anything within, so they passed through the barrier without trouble.

One of Jason's assailants had let go since the human had injured himself so badly in the struggle there wasn't much fight left in him. The other two grabbed him and, as they had with Crusher, stepped into the vent stack and blasted off towards the surface.

Jason was numb and he hung limply between them, tears flowing down his face as he refused to fully believe what was about to happen.

I WATCH as 788 and 748 grab Jason and take him up the vent to where the Phoenix will be able to pick him up. 702 remains behind to assist me, still keeping up suppressive fire as I tear a hole into the exhaust stack that leads down to the facility's self-contained powerplant.

There is simply no way to get to the transponder and shut it down given how badly we underestimated the resistance we encountered. We also cannot risk bringing the building down since the powerplant was designed to survive such attacks and continue operating. With the option of destroying the transponder gone, I opt to take out the powerplant that feeds it.

"777, my energy reserves are almost spent," 702 says as he picks up Jason's railgun and keeps firing.

"Take yourself to the surface while you have the power to fire your repulsors," I say. "I will finish this."

"You will go into legend, Combat Unit 777," 702 says. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"Make sure Lot 700 leaves Khepri," I say, rising to my feet. "And ask Jason Burke to make sure those that we're about to free are looked after."

"My word." 702 gives me a final salute and steps into the vent stack. He has always been both overly formal and melodramatic, but here, in my last moments, I appreciate it.

I fire my own cannons to keep my path clear, grab the antimatter warhead, and sprint for the gap in the exhaust vent. I do not regret my decision. I have lived a very long time and have been able to live the last part of my life without regret thanks to Omega Force. If I do not do this, they will not quit, and they will be killed. I will not sacrifice their lives when I alone can end this.

As I plummet into the darkness, I reflect on my life. My primary processing matrix has time to reflect on numerous things in that short time. I have experienced suffering, pain, and fear such that I hope few in the galaxy ever do. But I have also experienced hope and, as unlikely as it is, love. My adopted family—Jason, Crusher, Twingo, Doc, and Kage—have fought for me, stood by me, and have been the family I never knew I yearned for until they accepted me without reserve.

If a battlesynth, a machine designed and built for war, can come to feel love for his family—I go to my end knowing that there is still a future for those like me. We can be more than what we are designed for.

This is it. My internal sensors have calculated that I am within range of the fusion powerplant deep below the surface. I put my right arm-cannon near the opening in the device and wait the last few milliseconds.

I AM SORRY, Jason … but it is better this way.

I FIRE.

32

"We have lost control of the battlesynths."

"How did that happen?"

"I am not certain, Master. The downlink has been severed. The inhibitor signal is gone … they will now do as they please. Some may stay but most will be too confused to fight."

"The attack on the southern facility?"

"There has been a massive detonation detected below the surface, Master."

"Ah, Jason Burke, of Earth … you tried so very hard, and yet you accomplished nothing. Please execute our contingency plan. Sever the links and purge the buffers."

"It is done, Master."

"THEY'RE ALL ABOARD, get us out of here!" Crusher said, practically doubled over in pain. "Jason is badly injured … he needs immediate attention."

"Kage, take over here once we're clear of the area," Doc said.

"Did everyone make it out?" Twingo asked. Crusher let out a muffled, barking cry and looked away.

"Oh no," Kage said. "Who?"

"Lucky," Crusher managed to get out. "Lucky's gone."

The rest of Omega Force sat in stunned silence. Then Kage let out an anguished wail and grabbed Crusher in a fierce embrace. Doc and Twingo tried to hold it together long enough to get the Phoenix up and out of trouble, but it was a battle they were losing.

"SIR, the Eshquarian fleet is withdrawing. They've begun meshing-out and the Saabror ships are disengaging."

"What's changed?" Captain Swank asked.

"We've been monitoring local media, sir," one of the communications officers said. "There's been a series of explosions at someplace called the Master Exchange Authority, or at least that's how our system translates it. From the context it seems to have something to do with ConFed banking regulation. Apparently this is a big deal. Looking at the time stamps, those fleets began to disengage and withdraw shortly after that incident."

"Record everything coming off that planet for further analysis," Swank said.

"We have an inbound channel request from that same address you gave me before, Captain."

"Finally," Swank muttered. "Put it through." A window opened on the main forward display and the image of a man who looked like he might be thirty popped up. Swank recognized him instantly.

"My name is Jason Burke, and this is a prerecorded message on behalf of a group of political refugees. I formally request asylum for thirty-six battlesynths on the grounds of political persecution and in accordance with the deal previously negotiated in good faith with the regional government of Terranovus."

The man droned on a bit more about the legal wrangling that had taken place, obviously reciting off a prepared statement, before thanking the people of Earth and Terranovus for their charity and compassion.

"The ship that was broadcasting that message just meshed-out, sir."

"Helm, set course for Terranovus and begin accelerating for our mesh-out point. Communications, please forward that recording to Command HQ along with the statement that I, Captain Jonathan Swank, have accepted the battlesynths' request for asylum on the planet of Terranovus by the authority granted me in the United Earth Armed Forces operational charter."

"Sending message over the slip-com channel to home now, Captain."

"Very good. Now let's get the hell out of here."

JASON AWOKE in the infirmary aboard his ship, strapped down to the bed. The lights were dimmed, and by the sounds and vibrations he could tell they were in slip-space. He gingerly tried to move and found that his injuries had been tended to. There was still a fair amount of pain, but it seemed everything had been knitted up and put back in place.

"I always seem to wake up in this damn room." He swung his legs over and sat up, waiting as the dizziness passed. He thought back on the first time he was in there, years ago when he'd first boarded the DL7 when it had made an emergency landing on Earth. He thought about his home planet, his childhood … anything to keep from thinking about the thing that opened a hole in his heart.

"Damn you to hell, Lucky … damn you for making me live while you didn't."

"That's not the sort of sentiment that he would want to hear from you right now," a voice rumbled out of the darkness.

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, flicking the lights up a few degrees with the switch at the foot of the bed.

"Still not one hundred percent, but I'll survive," Crusher said. "We'll both survive."

"Yeah," Jason said uncomfortably, not knowing what to say to that.

"We've lost part of the family, Jason. A great friend and a comrade in arms. Mourn him in the way he deserves, but please don't let this consume you … we still need you."

"Do you think this even goes on without him?" Jason asked. "How does Omega Force move on without its conscience?"

"The way we always do it." Crusher stood and shuffled for the door. "We find a way."

Jason sat for a moment and reflected on what Crusher had just said. He knew that he didn't have the monopoly on grief or guilt. The Galvetic warrior was undoubtedly wracked with the same feelings Jason had, but he was sitting there in an uncomfortable chair not built for his size, still injured, and waiting for him to wake up so he could offer his own words of comfort. The gesture threatened to overwhelm his already fragile emotional state and he could only be thankful for those he shared his life with.

When he left the infirmary the ship was mercifully on night hours and most everyone was asleep in their quarters. Only Twingo was awake, sitting at one of the port-side terminals while he was on overwatch.

"How're you holding up?" Jason asked him.

"I'm just numb right now," Twingo said without looking up. "I think we all are."

"What's that?"

"The designs for the antimatter bomb." Twingo's voice was dull and his expression flat. "I just want to see if there was something I could have done differently. A reinforced blast panel, secondary detonation controls … maybe a remote trigger with multiple transmitters."

"This isn't going to help, buddy," Jason said gently. "We took an untested munition into battle, hit heavier resistance than we could have anticipated, and something unforeseeable happened. It's no more your fault than mine for allowing us to get dragged so deep into a mission with no clear goals or exits."

"Perhaps." Twingo didn't sound convinced. "It's not going to be same after this, is it?"

"No," Jason admitted. "But we'll find our way. Go grab your rack. I'll take the watch from here."

Without another word Twingo got up, hugged Jason briefly, and left the bridge. Jason stared down at the rotating wire model of the device that had killed his friend for a moment on the terminal display before switching it off.

He had been honest with Twingo: He didn't blame him for something nobody could have predicted. In hindsight had he known the outcome he would have either abandoned the ConFed and Khepri to their fates or tried to end the ordeal by hitting the bunker the transponder was buried in with the biggest missile the Phoenix carried and to hell with the consequences or collateral damage.

An insistent chirp from the pilot's station caught his attention and he saw that there was an incoming slip-com channel request. He slid into the seat and checked the header, but it was from an untraceable or blocked address. It was also an audio-only request. Curious, he accepted it and leaned back in the seat, waiting for the other party to speak first.

"Am I speaking to Jason Burke?" the voice asked.

"Perhaps," Jason said. "Who's this?"

"You didn't cover all contingencies, Jason," the voice said. "It's one of the great failings of young species. Your brains simply can't comprehend all the possibilities, so you focus on only the most obvious."

"You're it, aren't you?" Jason leaned forward. "The banking AI … or whatever you call yourself."

A low, menacing chuckle came through that made Jason's skin crawl. "Thank you for proving my point," it said. "You think that I am that laughably outdated, glorified tabulator? You're even simpler than I perceived. No, Jason, I am not that antique the Kheprians have buried in their planet and lord over the other star systems with … but I am the one that went ahead and destroyed it when you took away my fine infantry force."

"You what?" Jason asked.

"You didn't know, did you?" Another chuckle. "While you were fleeing to lick your wounds, I ordered the computer destroyed. My battlesynths had already evacuated the Kheprian security and planted charges throughout the building, so it was a simple matter. The shockwaves of my action are already emanating forth. The ConFed is racing against the inevitable as they no longer have the means to keep their member systems in check.

"Despite your pitiful best efforts, my goal is achieved. It was maybe not as cleanly as I would have preferred … but the ConFed will fall."

"You seem quite familiar with me," Jason said. "Have we met?"

This time he received a hearty laugh instead of a chuckle. "Oh yes … we have met," it said.

"Care to clue me in?"

"Where's the fun in that? We'll meet again, I'm certain." The channel went dead, and the computer was no closer to tracing the node address than it had been when he first accepted the request.

"Ominous." Jason grunted and maneuvered himself out of the pilot's seat. He went over to one of the side terminals and began searching through media reports coming off Khepri and saw that the voice hadn't been lying; someone had blown up the central banking AI. More specifically, they'd blown up the connection matrix that tied the computer into the com grid and allowed it to monitor transactions in real-time.

There were some vague stories about how the computer was damaged but operational, and the investigation was ongoing. The battlesynths had surrendered themselves once the hold over them was relinquished. Until the investigation was concluded, the Kheprian government was holding them in partial stasis given that they'd opened fire on both the facility guards and the regular military during the incident. Jason composed a short message to Saditava Mok inquiring about what help they might be able to offer the battlesynths he hadn't taken off planet.

At that thought he suddenly remembered that his cargo hold was loaded up with thirty-five battlesynths, virtual clones of his lost friend … and the pain came rushing back.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and began composing another message, the message, and addressed it to all the other people that would need to learn of Lucky's death. Kellea Colleran, Mazer and Morakar Reddix, Russ Johnson, Marcus Webb, Carolyn Whitney and Abiyah, Jerran, Annada … the list went on and on and it didn't take into account the people who didn't have access to a slip-com node.

As he typed, the tears flowed freely and he didn't dare wipe them away.

33

The next month was a whirlwind of activity. They dropped the remaining members of Lot 700 off on Terranovus and, much to Jason's delight, the government there quickly erected a proper settlement for them as thanks for services rendered by Omega Force in the past. It was well-equipped and 707 declared it eminently suitable for their needs. When they tried to leave, the battlesynths to an individual came to Jason and offered their services as a replacement for Combat Unit 777. He politely told them that he would consider their requests, but that he wasn't sure what his own future held.

Jason accepted an offer to take a tour of the latest starships entering Earth's service and found that the technology he'd gifted his people was being put to good use. The ships were an outstanding balance of speed and power, yet didn't exude hostility the way a Saabror ship might. He certainly hadn't given humanity a leg up to be the local bully, and from what he saw the United Earth Navy—a name he wasn't a fan of—was more focused on exploration and good citizenship than it was intimidation. It could have easily gone the other way were the wrong people in charge when he'd left a laptop computer crammed full of the Ancient's design techniques.

After they left human space, Tauless surprised them by asking if he could accompany them back to S'Tora to take up permanent residence. He had no desire to return to Zeta Vandor-6, and he said the quiet boundary world sounded like a great place for him to set up and continue with his own independent research. Jason transferred enough credits to his personal account that he would be able to find a place to live and begin rebuilding his life immediately. It was the least he could do after ripping the pru away from his home and almost getting him killed on more than one occasion.

"I SHOULD HAVE SOLD Tauless this place," Jason said, looking around his house. "I don't want to live here anymore."

"Too bad beachfront property on this planet is worthless," Crusher quipped.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," Jason said and reached for another bottle from the ice.

"Good point."

It had been a few weeks since Omega Force had returned to S'Tora and they were mostly keeping to themselves. Crusher had taken to coming over to Jason's house every evening and watching the sunset over a bucket of local brews. Neither talked much, but they both looked forward to the time together. They sat in silence until the red orb of S'Tora's very ordinary G-Type main sequence star completely disappeared from view.

"So what's the plan?" Crusher asked. "Twingo says the ship is fueled and ready to go, Kage is back to his normal, annoying self—also, his implants are reintegrated—and Doc is already starting to get that fussiness he exhibits when we're planetside too long."

"I've been giving it all a lot of thought," Jason said slowly. "Lucky wouldn't want this to end because one of us fell, especially not if it was him. If we split up again, go back to a more mundane existence, it would negate everything he sacrificed himself for.

"I'm not ready to dive back into it just yet … but I will be. We'll carry on if for no other reason than to honor him."

"As fine a reason as any," Crusher approved and lifted his bottle. "To Omega Force."

"To Lucky," Jason countered and touched his bottle to the other.

EPILOGUE

"It's happening, Master. The ConFed is already losing its grip on member worlds … the revolution has begun."

"I see that, but this is no revolution … it's a metamorphosis. The others will pick at the bones of the ConFed—the Eshquarians, the Protectorate, the Cridal—but in their ambition and greed they will miss the true threat until it is too late."

"Of course, Master."

"Have you taken care of the little thing I asked of you?"

"Yes, Master … Sorlotta Arx has been located. Would you like him eliminated?"

"Such an incompetent thing, this Arx … I asked for so little and he delivered even less. No, I believe we will provide his location to Saditava Mok. I have spent far too much time worrying about something so insignificant. Let Mok have his fun and eliminate the problem for me."

"And Omega Force, Master?"

"That's a different matter entirely," a harsh, grating chuckle floated out of the darkness. "No … I will deal with Omega Force. Jason Burke deserves no less."

"As you command, Master."

A SMALL, sleek, four-engined ship descended smoothly to the tarmac and touched down on its landing struts with a firm bump before the drives spooled down and the side hatch opened up. Three beings climbed out, but none of them the one that was expected.

"This is a surprise, given the news I sent. I at least thought Captain Burke would come in person."

"Jason took the Phoenix and left S'Tora alone in the middle of the night over four weeks ago," Twingo said. "This is a loaner ship."

"He just up and left?" Saditava Mok asked in surprise.

"He left a note," Kage said. "That's about the best we can hope for under the circumstances. He'll come back … he always does."

"Very well, then," Mok said. "If you'll follow me, please." Twingo, Kage, and Tauless trailed after Mok and Similan towards a large, beautifully designed hangar. After receiving the message the three had left S'Tora and flown directly to Mok's new home on Knara Prime. Judging by the visible security, he had learned his lessons from past mistakes.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I was when I learned of what happened," Mok said. "I felt as if I owed an unpayable debt, so I used my connections to make sure my people were on the ground first."

"Is this it?" Twingo stepped up to a low bench with a cover draped over it.

"It is," Mok said and gently pulled the cover back. All three of his guests gasped.

"That's him," Kage choked out. "Or … what's left of him."

The badly burned and deformed head and partial upper torso of a battlesynth lay on the bench, unmoving. Tauless tossed his pack on the ground and began pulling out instruments that he'd insisted on bringing just in case. He began probing deep into the exposed chest cavity, confidently identifying components that the others could only guess at.

"How did this much of him survive an antimatter blast underground?" Twingo asked, wincing as Tauless seemed to be desecrating the body of his friend.

"From what I've been able to glean from my own people on the ground and the limited facts your team has let slip, when the device detonated the upper portion of his body separated and was propelled up and out of an exhaust vent," Mok said. "They found … this … four kilometers away from the building site."

"There's still power on the right circuits," Tauless mumbled.

"What are you saying?" Twingo asked.

"I'm not saying anything … yet," Tauless said. "Battlesynths are designed with multiple redundancies to make sure minimal power is still applied to the primary matrix to maintain its stability.

"Originally this was so it could be swapped into a new body when one became too damaged, but that was impractical due to the complications with the integration process. It was cheaper and easier to build a new one than to try and guide an individual through the process again."

"You're not answering the question."

"Lucky still has two of these redundant power systems intact, active, and attached," Tauless said after a deep breath. "That doesn't mean anything more than those systems are still active."

"But it could mean—"

"Yes," Tauless said, "there's a very slim chance he's still in there. To what extent it's impossible to say with the equipment I have with me."

"What equipment do you need?" Mok asked.

"The first step would be to get our hands on a stasis pod to fully stabilize the matrix for long-term storage… but those are specialized and controlled so I'm not sure how we'd do that," Tauless said.

"There's thirty-seven of them sitting in a hole on Khepri," Kage said. "Next issue."

"We don't have a spare battlesynth body lying around," Mok said.

"Would a regular synth body work?" Twingo asked. "They still make those."

"No it wouldn't, but it might not have to," Tauless said. He was being very cautious at this point. "Let's take one step at a time and see the condition the primary matrix is in, but there might be a way to get a brand new battlesynth body. But"—he waved off the other two as they began to twitch with excitement—"there's no guarantees about that. So if the primary matrix is intact and if it looks to have remained stable enough to attempt a reintegration … I will look further into this. But please know that this is not some simple task. If all the conditions are just right it will be up to Lucky how badly he wants to come back … the process will be extremely painful and difficult for him."

"Enough talk, let's go!" Kage said.

"Hold on!" Twingo shouted and raised his hands. "This project stays between all of us until there is something firm and positive to report. Jason must never know about this until such time as there's good news. Agreed?"

"I don't like keeping a secret like this, but agreed," Kage said.

"Agreed," Tauless said.

"You have my word, I'll say nothing and provide any support you require," Mok said.

"That's it then," Twingo said. "We attempt this. We'll keep trying until all possibilities are exhausted."

ALSO BY JOSHUA DALZELE

Thank you for reading Omega Force: Revolution.

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Omega Force: Legends Never Die.

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(Continue on for a word from the author…)

AFTERWORD

From the author:

I GUESS it makes sense to explain why, after nine books, I finally killed one of the main characters and then decided to make it one of the most popular among readers. I had known for the last three books that I was going to kill Lucky … as Jason said, he's Omega Force's conscience and the most innocent of the six. Allowing Kage or Crusher to die just wouldn't have the same impact for what I want to put the guys through in the coming books.

Obviously we know that Lucky isn't really completely dead, so it'll have to be wait and see for now as to what his final fate is. There's also a new threat that's made itself known and it will play heavily in not just the Omega Force series but the upcoming spin-off stories.

The OF universe is expanding and there are enough interesting side stories and supporting characters that I think it'll make more sense to explore those as their own stories rather than try to shoehorn them into OF books and fight to tell those stories around whatever the idiots have gotten into. I'll go into that a bit more later but as of right now I plan on book ten being the point where OF releases slow down. I don't plan on ending the series completely, but it won't be a two or three per year schedule. I will say that one of the new planned series will be in this same universe but more human-centric as Earth is now fully emerging into the community.

It's hard to believe this series is rolling up on book ten already. It was a more than few years ago, but in my mind it feels like barely yesterday Omega Rising came out. I want to thank all those who have continued to stick with this quirky adventure sci-fi series as long as you have. It's been the main reason this became a series after book one, and then continued on after book six.

CHEERS!

JOSH

Table of Contents

Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

Also by Joshua Dalzele

Afterword