OMEGA FORCE: LEGENDS NEVER DIE

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

Also by Joshua Dalzele

Afterword

Joshua Dalzelle

©2018

Digital Edition, Rev 1

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

CHAPTER 1

"BRING HIM IN HERE! I want to see that bastard's body!"

"CAN WE GET PAID FIRST? I don't want—"

"Bring him in… now! You don't dictate terms to me!"

Six Taukkir grunted and struggled to carry in the body of a Galvetic warrior, heaving mightily to get it up on the long table that dominated the room.

"Damn, he reeks! Where did you find him? Inside a wine barrel?"

"Drunk in an alley behind a tavern… it's how we were able to get the drop on him."

When the mass of the hulking brute hit the table, the legs of the piece of furniture tried admirably to support the weight, but physics was a harsh mistress. With a final groan of protest, the two legs near the warrior's head buckled and the table tilted wildly, spilling the prize onto the floor. The racket had been deafening in the small room, but what caught the attention of all was the long, deep belch that emanated from the body. Everybody froze.

"Totally normal," the lead Taukkir assured everyone. "When the body begins to—"

"He's still alive!"

"What the hell is going on? Who are you people?" Crusher groaned and rolled over, casually kicking one of the Taukkir so hard the squat alien rocketed across the room and hit the far wall with a sickening thud. The room exploded into chaos as the remaining Taukkir dove for cover and the other aliens that had been milling about in the room went for their weapons. Before anybody could line up a shot something slammed into the door, causing it to bounce in the frame.

"Shit!" came a muffled voice from outside. The next hit on the door was accompanied by the sound of rending metal and a large impression appeared on the inside that looked remarkably like a foot. Everyone stared breathlessly, waiting to see if the door would continue to resist the assault.

It didn't

With a deafening boom the door was flung free of the frame, killing one of the armed aliens and seriously injuring a second. The smoke billowing into the room made it apparent that some crazy son of a bitch just used explosives on the door even though the other side was within an enclosed hallway. They just as likely injured themselves as taken down the door. Through the smoke a figure could be seen rushing into the room, tripping and falling on the debris in a clatter of weapons.

"Damnit!"

"Who are you?" the alien in charge demanded. Having used his own people as shields, he appeared to be only slightly disoriented from the blast.

"I am… damnit! Hold on, I had something for this. Oh! Right. Let me go out and come back in, but this time you say—"

"Jason Burke," the alien rumbled as the smoke cleared out enough to see. "Still so very impressed with your own cleverness, I see."

"Not nearly as much as I was a minute ago," Jason admitted, waving to the half-dozen weapons aimed his way. "This seemed like a solid plan until just now. So how are things, Zumbal?"

"I can't complain," Zumbal said. "I have to replace my door and hire more security, but the price of the bounty on Crusher will more than cover it. The fact you delivered yourself here as well is just an added bonus."

"Yeah… this was pretty stupid of me, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it—"

"But you did sort of forget one thing."

"What's that?"

"The big guy there behind you wasn't actually dead when he was brought in."

Zumbal had been standing behind his guards and completely forgot about Crusher when Jason blew the door off its hinges and came bumbling in. Now he reacted in horror as he realized his mistake, two eyes slamming shut as the other two widened and bulged. He spun just as Crusher reached out and plucked the weapon from his hands before knocking him unconscious with a seemingly negligent backhand.

The remaining hired muscle seemed to waffle between wanting to defend an employer who might actually be dead already or simply extricating themselves from the situation and finding work elsewhere. Their hesitation gave Jason the time he needed to dive behind the smashed table, scoop up one of his weapons and draw on the one closest to the door. He squeezed off two wild shots as the guards all leveled their weapons at him, hitting nothing but the wall. At least he provided enough of a distraction for a visibly confused Crusher to get into the fray.

With a half-hearted roar he slammed a fist into the first face he saw. It wasn't the best punch he'd ever thrown and the shooter, surprisingly, wasn't completely incapacitated. The alien did drop its weapon, however, and screamed so loud that the remaining guard twitched just enough to miss when it fired at Jason. The human felt the heat from the plasma bolt and tensed up, squeezing off three more shots, two of which hit the alien center mass.

"Wow," Jason groaned, climbing to his feet. "What a cluster—"

"Did you use me as bait?!" Crusher roared. "I thought we agreed that was a stupid plan!"

"Actually we never agreed and then you passed out," Jason said. "After you fell off the barstool, I considered that a forfeiture of vote and then I was forced to come up with a plan all on my own and execute it… it's not my fault you're so irresponsible."

"We weren't going to try to grab this scumbag until two days from now!" Crusher was still screaming and swaying on his feet.

"Opportunity waits for no one, drunk or not," Jason said, assuming his 'lecturing" voice. "These fine gentlemen"—he gestured to the remaining Taukkir—"had a credible tip that Zumbal would be here tonight and with only a token security force. Thankfully I was sober and smart enough to put this plan together as quick as I did. You're welcome."

"I'm going to kill you," Crusher rumbled quietly. "I know I've said that a lot lately, but this time I'm actually going to kill you."

"Before this gets out of hand and you two demolish yet another building, can we get paid?" one of the Taukkir asked. Jason had never bothered to learn their names. They were still criminal scum, but they were bush league local players and hardly worth their attention.

"Here." Jason tossed him a loaded credit chit.

"These are ConFed credits," the Taukkir complained. "They're worthless anymore."

"I'll admit the exchange rate isn't favorable at the moment, but hang onto that and maybe things will come back around." Jason shrugged. The leader of the group turned a mottled shade of purple and began making snorting noises, obviously enraged. Jason watched with a sort of detached fascination while the alien's companions struggled to grab their friend and physically remove him from the building. Crusher just looked on with a bored expression, waiting to see if the one struggling would be stupid enough to draw down on them.

"No problem at all. Thank you." The new spokesperson gave him a friendly wave and quickly exited the room.

"Not as dumb as they looked," Jason grunted. "You want to do this here?"

"We're not finished, you son of—"

"Quit being a baby." Jason waved off the fresh string of complaining. "You weren't really in any danger. Help me tie him to this chair and let's make it quick. That Taukkir was probably pissed enough to go straight to the local authorities."

Crusher kept grumbling but walked over and helped Jason haul Zumbal into one of the chairs. They took turns trying different ways of waking him, including slapping him around, dumping scalding tea in his lap, and were about to try electrical current when the alien's four eyes snapped open.

"Don't move," Jason said calmly, leveling his pistol in the alien's face.

"What is this? A shakedown? You want money?"

"Not exactly," Crusher growled. He pulled a small tablet from his thigh pocket, selected an image he wanted from the device, and had it project it as a hologram in front of Zumbal. "Remember them?"

"I can't say that I do," Zumbal said.

"I'm unfamiliar with your species' involuntary reactions and even I can tell you're lying," Jason said. "But let's go ahead and play this stupid game to its inevitable conclusion. These are the daughters of a prominent councilmember you abducted when he refused your blackmail attempts."

"Ah, yes… now I remember," Zumbal said, still not showing any real signs of fear. "You want them back? Is that it?"

"We've already handled the recovery of the two girls… only one of them was alive by the time we got there," Jason said. "We're here for something else."

"Please… you can bluster and threaten all you want, but in the end you're going to turn me over to the authorities," Zumbal said. "Your reputation precedes you, Jason Burke; there are certain lines you don't cross, and killing a defenseless, injured tol while he sits in a chair bleeding on his carpet is one of them."

"That may have been true in the past," Jason smiled largely, showing his teeth. "But we're trying something new. Crusher?"

Without a word, Crusher stepped forward and drove his fist into Zumbal's chest with enough force to collapse his rib cage and send him and the chair flying across the office. The alien gaped at them like a fish out of water, his eyes full of shock and rage as his crushed hearts continued to flutter in vain. Soon the alien began convulsing and projectile vomiting some sort of viscous purple fluid all over the room, much of it landing on Crusher as he'd leaned over to view his handiwork.

"Holy shit, that stinks!" Jason struggled to not laugh. "I bet it really reeks if you're wearing it… like you are right now." Crusher just stared at him, not laughing, not cussing or screaming… just staring. Jason was about to set one of his pistols to stun just in case when his com unit fired off an alert that local law enforcement had been dispatched for a possible assault in progress.

"That's our cue." He waved the device at Crusher. "Let's move."

They ran out through the shattered doorway and down the hallway to an emergency exit that would spit them out onto the street right by their waiting ground car. The mission had been sloppy and risky, but in the end they’d taken the target out so he didn't belabor the point too much.

Zumbal had hit their radar when they'd been hired to help settle a property dispute in the lawless Ch'Korol region of the planet. A collective of seven farming families pooled their resources and approached Jason about “negotiating” on their behalf with a property owner that had been hiring professional muscle to start chipping away at long-respected property lines. The crews they'd hired were street toughs that were big on bluster, light on real-world experience, and they had in no way been ready for the level of violence Jason and Crusher brought down upon them. Once that job had been quickly cleaned up, more people had approached them about Zumbal's facilitating off-world traffickers that were becoming bolder in how they were kidnapping juveniles.

The pair had at first thought the easiest method of dealing with Zumbal would be directly, but the alien was no fool and his security was airtight. Instead of bashing themselves against that anvil, they began to dismantle his operation starting at the edges and working in. They made themselves a complete nuisance and soon disrupted Zumbal's operation so severely that he'd offered bounties on the two mercenaries. He figured that they must be working for a competitor and this incorrect assumption caused him to plan poorly when it came to stopping them.

Once Crusher had killed Zumbal's younger sibling, however, things became serious. The bounty on the Galvetic warrior's head was so high that it was beginning to attract the attention of off-world mercs that would do nothing but muddy the water. They'd been drinking in a bar near the spaceport, trying to figure out a new approach, when fate intervened. One of Jason's contacts let him know that Zumbal's security detail would be light that evening at the same time a Taukkir crew walked in and recognized them. Before they could come up with a plan and try to take the pair themselves, Jason approached them with a proposition that would ensure they all survived the encounter.

What he'd not been able to count on, however, was that Crusher had approached the evening's festivities with the same sort of reckless enthusiasm he did everything else. Before Jason could get all the moving parts of his hasty plan spinning in the same direction, Crusher had collapsed onto the table, completely unconscious. "This will still work," Jason had assured the now-skeptical Taukkir as the plan shifted on the fly to take advantage of a seemingly dead Crusher.

"You sober enough to fly? We'll want to leave pretty quickly after that," Crusher said. He seemed much calmer than he had when he'd awoken to find himself in the middle of a firefight.

"No problem," Jason assured him, doing the math in his head. His enhanced metabolism burned off the alcohol much quicker than a normal human's would and he hadn't tried to destroy his internal organs with the rotgut swill at the bar like his friend had. Good thing too; when climbing behind the controls of an unlicensed warship after killing a handful of aliens a few hours prior, one wanted to have their wits about them.

"CLEAN GETAWAY… probably." Jason flopped down on the couch in the lounge. "The engines are still making that horrible screeching noise when we mesh-out, though. Probably need to find—what? Still not talking to me?"

Crusher continued breaking down his weapons on the table, something that used to be strictly against the rules, and ignored his friend. Jason drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, trying to determine the best way to break the stalemate without giving Crusher a reason to break one of his bones. Usually just being annoying worked, but the big guy looked genuinely pissed off this time.

"Have you heard from any of the others lately?" he asked, deciding on trying a different tactic to get his friend to talk to him. Crusher stopped what he was doing and just stared at him for a few long seconds.

"Twingo sent me a message four days ago and inquired as to how the ship was doing," he rumbled. "He seems to think you would lie to him if he asked you."

"Eh, I probably would," Jason agreed and popped the top off the two beers he'd brought from the galley as a peace offering. "I do think we need to get the slip-drive emitters aligned at our next stop though… that noise is really annoying."

"Not to mention a catastrophic drive failure means our instant deaths." Crusher reached over and accepted the bottle. "This doesn't mean I'm still not pissed at you."

"Noted," Jason said. "And if the drive shits the bed at least it will be a painless death, but I'll get it looked at. So that's all he said? Nothing about what they've been doing or why they haven't been at home?"

"He mentioned that Doc and Tauless were going back to one of your species' planets for a short time to help out with the battlesynth integration there." Crusher leaned back and rubbed the crest on his forehead. "Twingo was a little cagey about what he and the other idiot were up to."

"Huh," Jason grunted.

It had been a little over a year since Lucky had died. When they'd made all the necessary arrangements to close out the mission that had claimed their crewmate's life, the short time they'd spent together on S'Tora had seemed dreary and purposeless. He'd felt them drifting apart as they'd go days without seeing each other and, sometimes, actively avoided contact. Jason understood it as the coping mechanism it was, but it certainly didn't make it any less painful.

He tried to immerse himself into the coffee business he'd started on his adopted planet only to learn that the beast had grown well beyond his control. There was now a full-blown administrative staff that handled the operation of his company, and after a week he'd been politely told that he was more of a distraction than a help. With his pride stinging and nothing else to do, he'd almost reached out to Russ Johnson, who was training Earth's new military on Terranovus, when he found Crusher waiting for him with a proposal.

The Galvetic warrior wasn't used to extended periods of downtime and he was anxious to get back into space. He suggested that he and Jason take the Phoenix alone and skim along the various frontier worlds to see what sort of trouble they could kick up. He argued they wouldn't need the whole team since they weren't really digging up a mission to engage in, just a little harmless fun with the local thugs that might help out a few people in the process. So the next morning, without telling anyone about what they were doing or where they were going, Jason fueled the Phoenix and loaded her with weapons and booze and blasted off towards something to do other than watch people mope around the hangar without speaking to each other.

"So, while things are still civil… what in the hell possessed you to use me as bait for your half-assed plan?" Crusher asked. While his voice was calm, Jason could see the glimmer in his eye that promised violence if he didn't answer very carefully.

"You'd have done the exact same thing in my shoes." Jason decided to go on the offensive. "It's not my fault you drank yourself into a coma before we were done with this job and while we were still deep in enemy territory."

"And what would you have done if the goons at the door had shot or stabbed my 'body' in to be sure while those morons were carrying me?"

"I, ah… yeah, I didn't really think of that," Jason admitted. "Look, admittedly there were some flaws but—"

"And it's not like you were sober. I watched you come bumbling in and get the place shot up. This wasn't exactly a surgical strike."

"Hey! We got the job done and it all seemed to work out okay," Jason said. "A simple thank you would be nice."

This was exactly the wrong thing to say. Crusher lunged without warning, his three hundred and twenty pounds slamming into Jason and snapping the anchors that held the chair down with a sharp twang. Jason, having let his guard down during the conversation, barely had time to get his left forearm up to block Crusher's first hit but was able to smash the bottle he still held in his right hand into the side of his friend's head. He'd been aiming for the hardened crest, but he was off balance and the bottle broke against Crusher's ear, cutting into the skin.

"Oh, shit!" he managed to get out, realizing what he'd done. "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!"

Crusher put his hand to his head and when he pulled it back it was covered with his own blood. He looked at Jason incredulously for a moment before slamming his fist down into the human's face. The last thing Jason remembered was Crusher climbing off him and swearing as his vision quickly greyed out and he lost consciousness.

CHAPTER 2

"YOU, I like well enough… him? I honestly can't stand the little bastard."

"NOBODY LIKES HIM! That's part of his charm!"

"That makes no sense," the Viper said, leaning back in her seat. "Explain to me again why I should help you?"

"Quid pro quo… it means—"

"I know what it means, you idiot. The expression came from Earth… and you're pronouncing it wrong. What I meant to say is why am I being asked to help at all? Don't you already have one hard case, badass human that leads your merry band of degenerates?"

"We… haven't seen Jason for some time now," Twingo admitted uncomfortably.

"That explains that junk ship you arrived in… and the rumors I've been hearing out along the frontier worlds near the Eletixx Expanse," the Viper said. "The Phoenix has been sighted a few times out there, but I couldn't figure out why your crew would be working that area."

Carolyn Whitney, known as the Viper in some circles, was a human woman. Technically. Her cybernetic modifications were so extreme that there wasn't much of her original body left. She'd not given her augmentations a second thought until she'd recently been thrust back into contact with other humans thanks to one Jason Burke. Now one of his lackeys had somehow tracked her down and was trying to sweet talk her into something that she assumed would land her in a border world prison, kill her, or some combination of both.

Since the mess on Khepri a year or so ago when a terrorist attack had taken out much of the central banking infrastructure, the entire region had begun to shake itself apart. Carolyn wasn't sure how much of the official story she believed, but the fallout seemed to speak for itself: The ConFed was losing its iron-grip on its member worlds and splinter factions were popping up and declaring independence with increasing regularity. She had nothing but a simmering hatred for the quadrant’s overarching governing body, but she had to admit that their sudden waning power was becoming a serious pain in the ass.

"We're not really working as a crew right now either," Twingo said uncomfortably. "Not since—" He trailed off into an unintelligible mumble that not even her bionic hearing could work out.

"So the rumors about that were true as well?" she asked in a hushed whisper. "Lucky is really…?" Carolyn left the question hanging. The look on the short engineer's face was all the confirmation she needed.

She sat back, stunned. Within the far-ranging yet surprisingly closed society of mercenaries, pirates, and smugglers, the Omega Force boys were semi-famous. It was known that despite being hardly better than criminals themselves it was usually smarter to avoid getting on their radar if one wanted to remain among the living. For months Carolyn had heard whispers in dingy bars that the self-righteous Burke had lost his battlesynth bodyguard and that Lucky had died on Khepri during the recent unrest. Many had drunkenly bragged that they would be all too happy to run into the human and teach him some humility now that his backup muscle was gone.

She'd listened to these claims with a certain bemusement as the idiots making them seemed to forget that Lucky wasn't the only certified badass that ran with Burke. Nobody in their right mind wanted to tangle with Crusher. The hulking brute was dangerous and, unlike Lucky, seemed to lack even a shred of empathy. She'd known of two individuals that had survived a run-in with the Guardian Archon of Galvetor… both still woke up screaming from the nightmares.

This, of course, assumed that Jason himself wouldn't get a hold of you. While she'd taken advantage of the technology available to form her body into a weapon, Jason had gone an entirely different route. His genetic structure had been reworked and his non-biological enhancements were much more subtle, such as the reinforcement of his skeleton, tendons, and ligaments. As a result of all the tinkering, he had come close to maxing out the potential that existed within the human form while stopping short of having his organs or muscles replaced with machines.

"I… I'm truly sorry." And she was. The emotional punch to the gut was as surprising as it was painful. "But I'm still not certain why we're having this meeting. How did you even find me?"

"Huh? You came here at our request… we sent the message over slip-coms about a week ago." Twingo looked so genuinely confused that Carolyn knew he had to be telling the truth.

"Abiyah," she hissed. Her partner must have gotten the message and then manipulated things so that they would be here at an arranged time. She'd thought they were coming to this planet to fill a cushy protection detail gig. She should have known the pay sounded a bit too good, and he had been a bit too eager for a job he'd normally turn down on principle. "So what's the job?"

"We need something moved off this planet… discreetly," Twingo said. "It's fairly bulky and our ship is being watched. If we tried to load the cargo and take it ourselves we'd be swarmed under before we could even close the hatch."

"I'm intrigued, but not sold," Carolyn said. "What's the cargo?"

"I can't say out in the open," Twingo said. He looked over to where Kage sat and the Veran gave him a short wave to indicate he couldn't detect any remote surveillance. "In fact, it's probably better if I leave right now so we're not spotted together. I'll send you a location and time through the usual channels."

"I'll be waiting," Carolyn sighed. Her instincts were screaming at her to climb back in her ship, smack Abiyah around for lying to her, and put some distance between her and whatever the hell these morons had gotten mixed up in this time. But for some reason she relented. Maybe it was that morose look in Twingo's eyes, maybe it was the fact Jason and Crusher were safely lightyears away. Whatever the reason, she felt like she needed to be honest with Twingo upfront about her motivations.

"I expect to be generously compensated for this."

CAROLYN AND ABIYAH converged on the nondescript block building that sat among hundreds like it on the western outskirts of the city. After they'd received the location from Twingo through one of their dead-drop slip-com nodes that was on another planet, the pair had split up and taken separate, random routes to the old building. They crossed each other's paths at three different points in a move they called “dragging” to see if one or both of them had picked up a tail.

Jason Burke was a blunt instrument and about as subtle as a hand grenade in a library, but Carolyn had survived for decades by herself in the wilds of the galactic quadrant by remaining invisible. She'd watched him from afar when he'd first appeared on the scene and had been both horrified and fascinated by his direct, violent approach to problem solving. She assumed he'd be dead within weeks, but years later she was forced to revise her assessment though she found the man no less confusing than she had originally. It was with great relief that her partner, an Israeli ex-special forces operator, saw the wisdom in her methods and didn't go crashing into every situation like his counterpart seemed to prefer.

"Clear," Abiyah whispered as he ghosted up beside her.

"All clear," Carolyn confirmed. Before she could ask aloud how they were supposed to find Twingo and Kage, her com unit chirped. It was the one of the “clean” units she carried that couldn't be traced back to her, but that appeared to be no major hurdle for Kage. The display lit up with a map of the building and was directing them to a service entrance at the northeast corner. She showed it to Abiyah before nodding towards the direction they needed to go.

"They're really not too bad at this," Abiyah said softly.

"You sound surprised."

"I am. From what I understood, these two are support personnel."

"Twingo may be a bit… naïve, at least at times. Kage, however, is a master code slicer and an accomplished criminal whose talents are likely wasted with what he provides to this crew," Carolyn said. "The little bastard could be very, very wealthy if he struck out on his own."

Abiyah only grunted, a response that she'd learned could mean anything from “I agree with you” to “I've lost interest in this conversation.” The former Mista’avrim operator wasn't one for idle conversation, which made them an almost perfect match. Carolyn had gone so long without human interaction that the early days of their relationship were awkward and uncomfortable, but his tendency towards stoicism helped ease them over that hurdle and now she couldn't imagine her life without him.

They were within ten meters of the door when it popped open a fraction and she could see a blue hand with two thumbs slide out and wave at them. Twingo was hesitant to show his face, so Carolyn had to assume he knew the area was under surveillance. She wasn't a fearful person by nature, but she was honest about her own limitations. Without the Omega Force wrecking crew along with them she was cautious about getting into a situation for these two that she couldn't quickly and cleanly extricate herself from.

"I appreciate the help," Twingo said. "We're really in a bit of—"

"I've not yet agreed to help," Carolyn corrected him as the door slid shut and locked. "You tell me what you've gotten into that has you so spooked, what you need from me, and then maybe we agree to stick our necks out. Got it?"

"Sure." Twingo gave her an exaggerated shrug. "This way." The three of them made their way through a maze of partitioned storage areas, a few light manufacturing spaces, and pieces of spaceships that looked long abandoned. They finally walked into a dimly lit workspace where Kage was hovering over an open crate and jabbering excitedly to himself. Without waiting for Twingo to offer, she walked up and peered inside the crate, her mouth dropping open as she looked over what lay inside.

"Is… is this…?"

"No," Twingo said. "At least, not yet… maybe not ever. It's also the reason we can't really reach out for Jason's help right now. If he learned about what we're doing his reaction might be a bit… unpredictable."

"I think you'd better start at the beginning and tell me everything," Carolyn said. "I can't imagine the people you took this from are the sort to just shrug it off and go about their business."

Kage and Twingo exchanged a cryptic look before the code slicer nodded and went back to whatever he was doing in the crate.

"It started a few weeks after we learned that Lucky hadn't been completely destroyed on Khepri." Twingo raised his hands as his guests both opened their mouths to speak at the same time. "I'll get to that. For now let me just explain why we have this … thing … and why we don't have a lot of time to get it out of here."

CHAPTER 3

FOUR WEEKS EARLIER…

"MY FORCES ARE IN PLACE. We have three strike teams that have been spread out across the metropolitan area in ones and twos. That should help them escape notice."

"AND WE'RE sure this is the place? We've come up empty four times already," Kage said.

"My information is verified this time." Tauless looked away. The pru was becoming increasingly defensive the longer the search went on for a secret production facility that might not even exist. "It was also confirmed by Mok's people, isn't that right?"

"My informant gave details that make it highly likely this location is the correct one," Saditava Mok said carefully. "But she was quite clear that at no time during her employ there did she actually see a battlesynth body being built."

"This is the right place," Tauless insisted. "The raw material shipments alone indicate that this isn't just a support plant building subassemblies."

"I agree with Tauless, Twingo," Mok said after an uncomfortable moment. "This facility also seems to adhere to the Kheprian Covert Service's doctrine of hiding in plain sight. The building sits in an industrial park and has a power cooperative agreement with four others near it. Kage was able to find out that this company is the one that paid for all the permitting and installed the reactor without any help from the other four."

"Which means they're off the grid and have the perfect cover for why such a large fusion generator was opted for," Twingo finished. "And as we all know, building synths takes a tremendous amount of power when they're brought online."

"So we think this facility was going to be where they did the final integration for the new battlesynths?" Kage asked.

"They couldn't do it on Khepri," Tauless said. "The legal ramifications for awakening a new battlesynth would be profound. Nobody would be willing to risk that, not even the Covert Service."

Twingo remained skeptical but silent. More and more his negativity wasn't appreciated in the small group, but the earlier failures and daunting task ahead of them should they succeed here had eroded away the excitement and hope he'd felt when first gazing upon Lucky's mangled remains. He remembered when Mok had called them to his compound to show them the battlesynth's intact head and partial upper torso and that hot blossom of hope that welled up in his chest when Tauless told them their friend's redundant safety systems seemed to be intact. But now? Now he had sobered up from that initial rush and seemed to be the only one in the group willing to face the reality of the situation.

If they even managed to liberate a completed battlesynth body, which was looking unlikely, none of them had ever attempted the type of integration needed to install Lucky's primary processor matrix into it. Even if they managed that, there was no guarantee that Lucky's mind hadn't been so damaged that an awakening was even possible. Couple that with the fact they were stealing an illegal, secret weapon from a powerful ConFed Pillar World's shadowy military apparatus and it was more and more looking like a fool's errand. Perhaps they should admit to Jason what they were doing, call it quits, and lay Lucky to rest with the honor he deserved.

The other issue that had been tickling the back of his mind was that Tauless had mentioned the rumored bodies in short-run production were different from the other battlesynths already in existence. On the slim chance Lucky reemerged and was able to command the new, more powerful body, it wasn't exactly something they'd be able to keep hidden for long. After the disaster on Khepri, more worlds were barring entry to battlesynths, some to all synths in an even more extreme measure. What the hell would port authorities do when an obviously upgraded model came clomping down the ramp of a spaceship?

"Twingo!?"

"Yes? What?"

"Pay attention, damnit… I don't want to go through this twice," Kage snapped. "As I was saying: Do you want to be with Team Two? That leaves me with Team One, and Team Three will be on standby to hit the reactor once I've disabled the alarms. The odds are better that at least one of us will get to the objective, identify it properly, and get it out of the building before any hidden assets they might have in the area react."

"Sounds good," Twingo lied.

"This is it then," Mok said. "Our best chance of capturing one of the new prototype bodies before Kheprian Covert Service catches up to what we're after and the program gets moved or sanitized. One more thing before we begin… don't take any unnecessary risks. The tactical teams I've provided are sterile and can't be traced back to any of us. If one of you is captured and made to talk, the fallout could be quite bad. This program is highly illegal and I have no doubt that whoever is in charge will implement a scorched earth policy on any breach that might lead to it being discovered."

"Understood," Twingo said.

"Understood," Kage repeated. "Good luck, everyone."

"I THINK WE HAVE A PROBLEM. I've got a first floor breach, edges still smoking hot."

"Say again, Kage? Did someone go early?"

"Negative, someone got here before us," Kage said. The diminutive Veran was decked out in tactical gear, a rarity for the code slicer. He still had no intention of engaging an armed enemy, but with Jason and Crusher absent he felt especially vulnerable and exposed. It seemed foolish to place his trust blindly in Mok's contractors.

Kage slid the small plasma carbine around to his back and pulled out a small scanner, running the device around the edges and over the mangled remains of the entry control panel. "The security has already been disabled… both systems. Entry security and the secondary monitors have been bypassed by someone who knows what they're doing. What do you want to do, Twingo?"

"We go," Twingo said over the com a moment later. "We don't have a choice… if someone else is here, it's now or never. Be ready for anything."

Kage sighed and motioned his own team in through the rough-cut opening where a heavy security door used to be. His senses were on high-alert and he refused to believe that someone else had decided to break into the facility on the same night as they by coincidence. He also wasn't naïve enough to think that they weren't after the same thing.

Other than the initial entry point, nothing else seemed amiss within the building. The door Kage's team had picked opened up into an unsecure storage area just off the main factory floor. The dim nighttime lighting softly illuminated heavy fabricators near the center of the cavernous space, so large that they cast the smaller, feeder machines in shadow.

"You have anything, Twingo?"

"Nothing up here," Twingo replied. His squad had come in through an emergency exit that led into the administrative guts of the building. "And I do mean nothing. This looks like an elaborate ruse… lots of desks and terminals, but from the dust and general sterile feel to the place I have a feeling nobody actually works back in here."

"Interesting. That would back up what Mok's people found when they did the audit," Kage said. Just as Twingo's answer was coming back over the channel the horrendous shriek of metal tearing filled the factory and one of the enormous fabricators tilted wildly before falling in their direction. "Shit!"

Kage dove and scrambled as the machine smashed and bounced off others before slamming into the floor with enough force to break the duracrete. Sharp debris peppered him as he used all six limbs to get traction. Dust billowed out from the impact site, obscuring everyone's vision and sending them all into coughing fits.

"Kage? Kage! What happened?!"

"Stand by," Kage said, rising to his feet and counting how many of his squad had made it. He was short three; presumably what was left of them was a fine paste underneath a machine that weight hundreds of tons. There was no shouting or weapons fire, the previous silence of the place replaced by a sharp ringing. "Someone knocked over one of this place's main fabricators. Three of my people are down."

"Moving to you now," Twingo's voice said. "Team Three, converge on Kage's location. Copy?" There was no response from the third team, the one that was to try to make a stealthy incursion through the building's subbasement and kill the power right where it came off the main reactor, physically breaking the link so that it couldn't be reinitialized remotely.

"The trackers for Team Three have just gone offline," Kage said. "Let's assume that—" He was cut off by a barrage of weapons fire coming from near where the fallen fabricator had stood. His team all ducked and assumed a defensive posture, but nothing came their way and the noise, while sustained, seemed to be fading. "What the hell? Twingo, get your ass up here! We're moving around to try to get eyes on whoever else is in here with us."

"Copy."

In the months following Lucky's death, and once Twingo and Kage agreed to embark on a damn near impossible quest, the pair had been forced to "grow up," for lack of a better term. They'd been part of a mercenary crew for years, but for the most part had never been forced to get their hands too dirty since there were three others that seemed to relish that sort of thing. Now that one had died and the other two had just up and left, Twingo and Kage had had to find the courage within them, take up arms, and be the pointy end of the stick. What had been surprising was just how good they seemed to be at it. Apparently watching Jason and Crusher cut a bloody swath through the underbelly of the quadrant had taught them a thing or two.

"Sir, look."

Kage walked up to where one of his squad was standing near the toppled fabricator's base. Instead of a solid alloy plate to anchor the enormous machine, what they found was a wide, shallow ramp that led underneath the building.

"Clever," Kage said. "The entrance to the actual production facility was from inside that big bastard." The other three in the room would be more than capable of keeping production numbers of drive components high enough to avoid suspicion. It also meant that whatever was down there was something meant to be kept a strict secret. "Twingo, we found an entrance to what has to be the secondary production facility. We'll move ahead, you come in behind us… don't shoot me in the ass."

Kage motioned two of his team in ahead of him before going in himself. He looked and saw that the bottom of the fabricator had been fitted with an armored hatch-style security door that the opposing team must not have felt like messing with. He saw where they'd cut through the floor anchors and had used hydraulic rams to get the machine to tilt enough before letting gravity do the rest. The people who were running the facility would kick themselves in the ass for not thinking of such an obvious vulnerability in their security… assuming the building was left standing once they were done.

He was barely halfway down the ramp when the first two members of his team were engaged. Plasma shots streaked from the tunnel ahead, hitting the ramp and forcing his lead element back. Kage pulled a tiny drone off his belt, one of four he was carrying, and tossed it in the air once it had synched up with his neural interface. It raced down the ramp, buzzing between his shaken troops and down into a long, wide access tube, feeding him real-time telemetry as it went.

"Painting targets, stand by," he mumbled as he used the drone's video feed to identify and bracket four hostiles that were standing near where the tunnel veered off to the right. There was no cover and it didn't look like they'd been expecting anyone, just a precautionary rearguard. "Targets one through four updated. I think two micro-Pixies should do the trick."

"Loading… firing." The weaponeer was dispassionate, almost clinical as he fired two missiles down the ramp. The "micro-Pixie" was an even smaller version of the diminutive missile that Kage and Twingo had designed for use aboard the Phoenix. It had been his idea to begin carrying standoff weaponry once they started raiding these secret production sites rather than opting for projectiles and blades like Jason and Crusher seemed to prefer. The smart little munitions zipped away, their exhaust note a high-pitched whistle that almost made them seem cheerful… right up until they both proximity detonated and painted the walls with what used to be four dumbstruck guards.

"Clear," Kage said, checking the drone feed again. "Trying this one more time, Twingo."

"Copy. Almost to you."

The team advanced quickly down the ramp, weapons up and the air tense now that they'd made contact. Kage held his hand out to retrieve the small aircraft and clipped it back onto his belt where it could recharge. The little drones packed so much tech into such a small package that he could normally get only thirty or forty minutes of flight time per charge if the air was calm. They'd been Twingo's idea and the basic chassis and flight hardware had actually come from a children's toy, then he and Tauless started modifying them for tactical use. One thing Kage wasn't a fan of was that each of them was also a suicide bomber thanks to the explosive charge they'd added. It made him nervous lining them up around his waist.

Just as he was about to pluck another one off to scout ahead of the turn, a thunderous explosion rocked the facility. The pressure wave sent them all tumbling. Kage checked the chronometer on his neural implants and realized he'd lost consciousness for a few seconds and was still struggling to clear his head when he sensed movement to his right.

Five beings, all clad in black, rushed by them, rolling something big between them on a cart. They blew by his downed team without a second glance and sprinted up the tunnel ramp with impressive speed. Kage became vaguely aware of more weapons fire from near the mouth of the ramp as well as a distant, tinny voice in his ear over the com. Once he picked his head up he realized it wasn't his hearing that was off, it was that his earpiece had been flung out from the impact.

"Now I see why Jason wears armor," he groaned, pressing the small device back into his ear.

"… the hell are you at? We've been engaged and had to withdraw. Kage?!"

"I'm here," Kage said, taking in a deep breath and coughing to clear his throat. "I'm here… what's happening?"

"Somebody came up out of the hole in the floor laying down fire," Twingo's voice came back, sounding relieved. "They took down two of my team."

"Where are they now?"

"Blew a bigger hole in the wall they came in through and left. Should we pursue?"

"Negative," Kage said after a moment of thought. "Mok isn't orbiting nearby and we have no way to track them. Just come down here and we'll see if anything can be salvaged from this debacle."

"THIS IS DEFINITELY THE PLACE," Twingo said. "This is amazing… they made access through the door here to get in, but must not have been able to drag whatever you saw back through it and just blew the damn wall out. Lucky you were so far back and just got tossed on your ass instead of scrambling your brain."

"Still hurt like a bastard," Kage complained. "Take a look at this, Twingo… these are stasis pods." The specially designed synth-type pods were obvious in their differences from the type that would hold a biological being. He turned to his friend and nodded, both of them too scared to give voice to what they hoped to find.

They were well past all the support equipment and were into the side chamber when Kage heard Twingo suck in his breath and saw his ears flatten against his head. He pushed past his friend and looked to see what had startled the engineer and had a similar reaction of his own. Along the wall there were five holding cradles, three of which had battlesynths in them, hanging lifelessly. These were unlike any battlesynths Kage had ever seen. The original versions had all been unique individuals, but these were something else entirely.

"This… isn't what I expected," Twingo said.

"Me either," Kage said. "This could be… problematic."

They stared at what were undoubtedly prototypes for a new breed of battlesynth. Just their very existence was highly illegal and in direct violation of about two dozen interplanetary and ConFed Council treaties. But here they were… and they looked nothing like their friend, Lucky. They'd hoped to try to resurrect Lucky by placing his stabilized processing matrix into a new prototype body that Tauless had learned about through his underground contacts. The assumption was that the new generation would be similar to the old.

"They're… smaller," Twingo said. "Almost like a cross between a regular synth and a battlesynth."

"Look how different the faces are too," Kage said, stepping up and trusting Mok's tactical teams to set up a perimeter. "Do you think they already had matrices ready to go for these guys?"

"I couldn't say, buddy, but it looks like we weren't the first to have this idea. That cradle there had something ripped out of it… I'll bet you a thousand credits they stole one of these and—"

"Sirs! We must leave immediately!" One of the troops Mok had provided—Twingo had never bothered to learn their names—was waving frantically. "This entire place has been wired with explosives and rigged to blow!"

"Well, that explains why they didn't bother with these three," Kage said. "Just snag one and blow the rest up."

"We must—"

"Start pulling your team out and make contact with Mok," Kage instructed. "We're not leaving without what we came for."

"This one!" Twingo said, already disconnecting the umbilicals off one of the completed bodies.

"Get it on a cart and get moving," Kage said, slamming his palm down onto one of the terminals and letting the thin tendrils of nanobots stream from his hand and work into the device. He shoved down through the connection much quicker than was prudent or safe and began ripping huge chunks of data from the servers. The body was important, but without as much technical data as they could grab it wouldn't amount to much.

Twingo grunted and cursed as he pulled the levers to rotate the holding cradle horizontal and rolled another of the ubiquitous cars up under body. After a moment of frantically hunting for the release, the new battlesynth slammed onto the metal surface with a thud.

"We have to go now, Kage!"

"Ten more seconds," Kage muttered. He was using the full power of his neural implant suite, tearing data from the computers with a brute force method he rarely employed. He wasn't trying to parse or search, just look for anything that was encrypted or secured and yank it out. He'd have to recompile and decrypt it later if they made it out before the explosives triggered.

He was just grabbing one more block of files with tantalizing names when Twingo grabbed him and physically dragged him away from the terminal. The nanobot chains connecting him snapped, the severing of the connection more painful than the breaking of the tendrils themselves. Kage had ingested so much data so fast that he was in a bit of a stupor and stumbled after his friend once they were out of the lab areas.

"Exfil coming in hot," Mok's voice broke in over the open channel. "Breaching the northernmost corner of the building." Kage knew that was where his team had come in. There was no place to land the shuttle that Mok had procured for the mission so he surmised the gangster planned on blasting in through the roof.

"Mok's going to blow the roof and then use the transit beam to get the body up first and then all of us," Twingo confirmed a moment later. By the time they, and the three operators that had hung back with them, ran up the ramp and into the main factory above, Kage could just make out the cradle with the new battlesynth body floating up the wavering blue light of the transit beam. Just as he stepped into it himself he could feel the deep reverberation within the factory floor of the first charges going off under them.

They'd barely made it out and had taken some losses but finally, after all this time searching, they had what they'd been looking for. As the heavy transport shuttle climbed up sharply and angled away from the industrial district, an enormous gout of fire shot into the air and the entire building was consumed in an explosion that leveled the buildings nearby and tossed the shuttle about in the air like it was a toy.

"No way that was just the bag charges that other team left," Twingo was yelling to Mok over the sound of the engines. "They must have had the building rigged to blow and the bombs triggered a failsafe."

Mok said something else but Kage was no longer listening. He was staring at the battlesynth body lying serenely on the floor. Despite being less bulky and angular than the previous generation, it still exuded menace. There was no doubting that it was dangerous, but right now it was also lifeless. The task ahead of them almost broke his resolve… finding the body had seemed like it would be the hard part, but now that they had it he knew that wasn't true. Extracting Lucky's essence from the remains they had and trying to reintegrate him into this new unit could prove too much for their combined skills.

"I wish Doc was here," he said, still staring blankly at the inert battlesynth. Twingo and Mok looked at him strangely before resuming their own conversation.

CHAPTER 4

"I FEEL like you're leaving out a lot of detail," Carolyn said flatly as she stared at the second generation battlesynth body, shuddering as she did. Unlike most living beings in the quadrant, she'd seen what a squad of battlesynths could do when deployed against a target. It was terrifying.

"WELL, yeah," Twingo said. "I skipped over all the drudgery of the skulking and searching as well as listening to Mok complain constantly about the amount of money he was spending on bribes to get information. We hit four locations before that last one, all on seemingly solid intel, before we finally found what we assume is the last secret development lab. If we'd been one day later it'd have all been for nothing."

"I don't believe in that sort of coincidence," Abiyah disagreed. "That other team was tracking you the entire time, letting you do all the hard work and then slipped in ahead of you. It's likely that by the fifth time, after nothing but failures, you were careless in your initial recon of the building."

"I'd like to disagree with you, but you're probably right," Twingo said. "But either way, once—"

"I'm still a little mushy on why you need us?" Carolyn interrupted. "Why is it even here?"

"Oh, right," Twingo said evasively. "Well, we sort of got on the radar of Kheprian Intelligence… we think."

"You think?"

"Whoever was running that covert lab isn't exactly happy that it was destroyed, and they caught our scent before we could switch ships and get the body clear and off-planet," Kage said, moving closer and ignoring the look the Viper gave him. "We're assuming it was someone within Kheprian Intelligence that was running the program either with, or for, the Covert Service."

"You guys should have come to us first." Abiyah shook his head. "The other team fed you to the dogs." When the two Omega Force members looked at him blankly, he went on. "They tracked you to the body, likely because they didn't have the resources you were bringing to bear by involving Saditava Mok… or perhaps they were unsure of his involvement and his reputation scared them off. Then, probably to create enough of a distraction to get their own body off-planet, they must have fed your ship's description to someone they knew would want to talk to you about it."

"Damn… we've been really sloppy about this," Twingo said.

"And now you've dragged us into it." Carolyn glared at her partner before continuing. "This thing is radioactive, guys… I'm not sure I want to be involved. Why don't you call and interrupt Jason's frontier rampage and have him blast in here and grab you in that flying tank?"

"We, ah… we haven't really—Kage?"

"Well the thing is—"

"Save it." Carolyn cut them off with an angry wave of her arm. "Let me guess, you haven't been able to get in touch with them. Would you like to know why?" The pair looked at each other, unsure as to how they should answer.

"Well, as long as you're offering," Kage said.

"Your pals, without the benefit of Lucky's voice of reason, have decided to indulge their bloodlust, and from what I've heard, it's getting messy," she said. "They've been connected to a string of brutal interdictions and people are beginning to take notice. I've got three contracts for the pair of them sitting in my queue right now.

"It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but someone is going to take them out soon. They've become violent and reckless and even along frontier worlds that's only tolerated for so long."

"Shit," Twingo muttered. "We've had hints and rumors about what they've been doing, but we didn't think it had gone that far."

"Eh, everyone handles grief differently." Kage shrugged. "They're just blowing off some steam."

"They're killing people—too many people—and it's about to catch up with them," Carolyn said flatly. "If you have any way to call them off, I suggest you do it."

"I appreciate the warning, but how does that help our immediate situation?" Twingo asked.

"Give us a day to try to come up with a plan to get you and it off the planet," Abiyah said. When Carolyn shot him a savage look, he pressed on. "My people owe them too much for me to walk away. Come to think of it, it's our people that owe them."

"I'm not starting that conversation again," she said dismissively. "Let us see what we can come up with. Fair warning: I'm not putting my new ship or life at risk for whatever the hell it is you're doing with this… thing."

"I suppose that will have to do for now," Twingo said before Kage could open his mouth and ruin the negotiations. For whatever reason, Carolyn absolutely couldn't stand the little Veran. "We'd better start filing out of here and lock the place back up."

"YOU WON'T KILL US. I've run into you guys before. Your honor code, your rules of engagement… you'll just beat on us some more, but in the end you'll pull up short before—" The rant was cut short by the deafening report of a high-power plasma pistol discharging within an enclosed space. Once Tuval's eyes cleared, he saw that his brother, who had been tied to the chair next to him, now had a smoking crater where his face had once been.

"You were saying?" Jason asked.

"You! You killed my packmate! I'll—"

"You'll start talking or that's happening to you next," Crusher rumbled from behind him. "And if we do that, we'll have to go pull a few more out of your family den and start this whole process over. That's going to piss me off. A lot."

"In other words, we won't be as nice the next time around," Jason said. "You were sent to intimidate and damage property along the riverfront. I want to know why and I also want to know where you've been getting military grade weaponry."

"I… well—"

"He's stalling," Crusher said, wrapping a massive hand over the squirming alien's throat. "I told you we caught this pair too easily."

"Talk or die," Jason said flatly.

"The job is you!" Tuval gasped. "We came to the world and baited you into coming after us."

"Why?"

"The money!"

"Have we checked the bounty boards in a while?" Jason asked. "Last I saw it was only a few grand. That's hardly worth the risk of coming after us."

"It's millions! Please! I can't breathe!"

"You're sure doing a lot of talking for not being able to breathe." Crusher never let up his grip. "Millions? Who would pay millions for us? We haven't killed that many by accident. Or on purpose."

"It's—"

"Let up a bit, Crusher," Jason said.

"—an aggregate contract. Nine buyers. We get eleven million credits if we bring your bodies in." Tuval rubbed at his throat, glaring at Jason.

"Damn," Jason sighed. "These two were supposed to get caught. I'm sure one has a tracker stuck up in him somewhere." Crusher pulled a long, curved blade out and grinned savagely. Tuval went from his normal bright pink to yellow and vomited onto his chest at the sight of a Galvetic warrior advancing on him, intent on looking through his insides to find the device.

"It's too late for that." Jason waved him off, hefting his favored primary weapon. The railgun was a nasty bit of work that, despite being attached to his infamy, still seemed to surprise people with its sheer destructive power. "Better grab your toys and get ready… they'll be coming."

Jason deployed the helmet on his last remaining powered armor suit, this one a medium-duty unit that could take a decent amount of punishment and afforded increased mobility. His heavy suit had been destroyed in the same mission that—

Best not to begin dwelling on that again… it never led anyplace good.

"Should we just kill this vermin and then try to get to the ship?" Crusher asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah… I don't give a shit. Either way," Jason said as he checked over his armament. He'd actually been joking just to screw with Tuval, but apparently Crusher had been sincere with the question. The alien—Jason had never actually learned what species the family unit was from—screamed and pleaded for his life before a wet snap ended it. Jason looked over and saw Tuval's head flopped over at an unnatural angle and just shook his head at Crusher.

"What? You said you didn't care!"

"I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed," Jason said. "Restraint is the only thing that separates us from the animals."

"Says the guy that locked two ryinlur in an unpressurized cargo pod on a ship that was about to launch," Crusher snorted.

"That was an accident." Jason looked away, his lofty expression hidden by the death's head visage of his helmet.

"Whatever. These were legal kills. The province hired us to root them out using any means necessary. So what are we thinking—" Crusher was cut off by a stout explosion that blew the door of the office building they'd commandeered out of its frame. It was a breaching charge so there wasn't much fire or smoke, but it still created an overpressure in the room that caused everyone not wearing armor to drop to their knees in pain.

Jason wheeled and opened fire just as the first of Tuval's relatives came pouring in. He'd had the railgun in low-velocity mode so he was able to lay down sustained, suppressive fire for the split second it took Crusher to shake off the effects of the concussive blast and get into the fight. The big warrior plucked a grenade from his harness and eased around while Jason kept them pinned, tossing the charge out the doorway with a negligent lob. The munition had been set with a short fuse and it exploded before it even hit the ground.

"Cease fire!" Crusher yelled, waving Jason off. The human swapped in a fresh magazine and cycled the weapon, checking that the cooling system was bringing the rail temperatures back down after the abuse. "Six tangos down, none within sight."

"That means we're missing three counting the two dead in here," Jason said. "I'm going up top to look for a spotter. Don't silhouette yourself in the doorway until I clear it."

"I've done this before," Crusher snapped.

Jason ignored him and went back into a supply closet where a rickety ladder led up to an access door. The lock looked flimsy as hell, so he curled his gauntlet into a fist and punched directly at it, the force amplified by the armor's actuators. As expected, the lock exploded. The door flew up and ripped off its hinges, tumbling though the air and landing on the roof with a thud.

"There!"

Before Jason could even get his head and shoulders up through the opening, two more of their attackers turned from where they were perched at the edge. They were apparently waiting for them to exit so they could shoot them from above. The one who had spotted him threw a cylindrical object at him and he batted it away instinctively, turning his head just as it exploded and peppered his armor with debris and shrapnel.

The grenade was a small anti-personal type and he'd flung it up and away, but it still had enough punch that when he looked again, the idiot that threw it was on the ground writhing in pain. His partner was nowhere to be found but a smoking boot left on the edge of the roof told the tale.

"Good plan," Jason said, walking up and looking down at the gravely wounded alien. "Who's your handler? What are the contract details?" Before he could get an answer, Jason's display washed out and thermal shock alarms started blaring while his HUD lit up with warnings. He ducked and rolled up to the edge of the roof behind the short wall, his armor smoking and hissing where a plasma bolt had hit him from well outside the optimal range. Had it been a closer shot he may not have been so lucky.

Taking a quick breath, he popped his head up for a split second and ducked back down just as another shot roared over his head. From the dispersal of the shot and the way the plasma was streaming behind it, he guessed the range was close to two-hundred meters. Wrong weapon for that sort of work. He flicked his railgun's selector to high-velocity and grinned behind his mask… he not only had a range but his armor's combat computer had registered from where the shot had come from and was feeding him directional data.

"We have one left, Crusher," he said over the com. "Stand by."

"Copy."

Jason crawled along behind the short retainer wall so he wouldn't appear in the same spot, verified the target's position from the last known shot, and rolled smoothly up into his stance. The optics on his weapon picked out the movement on a building two hundred and twenty-eight meters away and automatically adjusted his point of aim. He squeezed off two hypersonic rounds and watched as the ledge his target was kneeling on exploded. Jason could tell he hadn't actually hit the target since it was intact as it fell, but the fall from seven stories up should do the trick.

"Target down, not confirmed dead," he reported. "Southeast from here—"

"I've got it," Crusher grumbled. "I'll just go over to where you shot half that building down with that ridiculous gun."

When he turned back to the fallen alien on the roof with him he was dismayed to see that he had died. Jason went through his pockets looking for anything that would give them details on who was posting up such large bounties on them.

Nothing.

He walked over to the edge of the two-story roof he was on and hopped off, his sabatons smashing into the street and breaking the pavement. He jogged over to where Crusher was examining the badly mangled body of the spotter. It appeared that some of the ledge had broken off after he fell and then landed on him.

"This is fucking gross," Crusher complained. "Why can't you just burn people down with a plasma weapon like a civilized being?"

"It's not my fault part of the building squished him." Jason retracted his helmet and looked at the mess. "Find anything?"

"This guy was probably in charge. He has some specialized com gear and he was the only one carrying a com unit."

"Which would be great… if we had a code slicer to get into it," Jason sighed. "Let's just get back to the Phoenix… we'll call for payment once we're off-world and we'll see if the computer can do anything with that."

"Do you remember where you parked this time?" Crusher asked as they moved off, wanting to be well gone before people became brave enough to come out and see what all the noise was about.

"One time… one damn time I lost the ship and I never hear the end of it," Jason griped. "If you hadn't broken my com unit, it wouldn't have been an issue."

"I hadn't noticed how shifty you were until the others weren't around. Do you ever take responsibility for your screw ups?"

"Nope." An insistent beeping from his com unit cut off the argument. "Huh… the Phoenix just received a message from Carolyn Whitney. It's flagged as urgent."

"Now there's a ruthless human," Crusher said with a short, barking laugh. "I like her."

"You would."

"More than I like you, anyway."

"Got it."

CHAPTER 5

"IT'S BEEN damn near three weeks!" Twingo fumed. "We can't just sit here forever!"

"I'M NOT sure Carolyn is wrong," Kage said. "Twingo, there was a lot of heat and we're in possession of something that could get us executed if we're caught. I'm anxious too, but honestly, maybe we should have taken it even further."

"You lost me."

"Maybe we should have hidden the body on this planet and then left," Kage said. "Tauless said Lucky's core systems are safe in stasis for an almost indefinite amount of time… even if we came back a year or two later it would be better than being caught with that thing."

"MOK DID haul ass out of here when things got too hot, didn't he?" Twingo was somewhat mollified. "Maybe he was the smarter one."

"Yeah, about that… you don't think he set us up, do you?" Kage asked. "He did flee right after we stashed the body. If that other team was his, that means he has Lucky, our only battlesynth expert, and the other body that was taken."

"Wow… thanks for adding that to my pile of things to worry about," Twingo snapped, still pacing. "But no, I don't think he screwed us, as Jason would say. It does him no good. If Tauless was able to perform the integration alone it's not like Lucky would wake up and suddenly be Mok's slave. What probably—you okay?"

"Yeah." Kage waved him off. "I've been passing the time by trying to recompile and decrypt the data I took from that lab. It's taking a bit more out of me than I thought."

The pair fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Days had stretched into weeks as they had waited for some word from the Viper about an extraction plan as well as staying glued to the local media to see what developments there might be on the explosion that took out the lab and most of the city block it sat on. The fact things were largely silent about so much destruction in a normally quiet city spoke volumes: Powerful people were interested in making sure this wasn't too widely known.

It wasn't that the pair was wavering in their commitment, they'd come too far and done too much to turn back now. The issue was what it was costing each of them personally. Twingo especially had tried to stay above the fray when Omega Force dabbled in gross criminal conduct, but this mission to try and save his friend had led him to crossing so many lines that he'd stopped counting the number of local and ConFed laws he'd been breaking. By actually capturing one of the prototype battlesynth bodies, they'd achieved a level of success that he secretly thought they never would. Now the consequences would go far beyond what would have been a slap on the wrist for some harmless criminal mischief and a few assaults.

Then he remembered who his friend had actually been. Whenever Twingo started feeling sorry for himself, he remembered that Lucky had grabbed a bomb and detonated it against his body to save Jason's life, and that Jason had fought so hard to not let him do it that he'd almost killed himself. Their commitment to each other and to the team was absolute. Twingo wouldn't dishonor them by being any less.

The door chime to their rented rooms caused Twingo to nearly jump out of his own skin. Kage was so immersed in what he was doing inside his head that his eyes barely fluttered.

"Start backing yourself out of whatever you're doing," Twingo told him. "I think this may be go-time."

"You are correct," Carolyn said when he answered the door. "It's go-time." Twingo hid how startled he was that she could hear him though the insulated door. He always forgot that the Viper was extensively modified with all kinds of bionic upgrades that allowed her to perform her function as an assassin and spy. Jason was unbelievably strong and resilient thanks to Doc's genetic tinkering, but for the most part he was still just a human. Carolyn was more of a machine with a human brain driving it.

"What's the plan?" Kage asked, disconnecting the hard lines from his neural interface and standing up.

"We have transport coming in tonight to get you, and it, off-planet," she said. "No real details other than you need to be there before they show up."

"And what's your role in this plan?" Twingo asked. He was now completely suspicious of the human standing before him. They'd moved the body three times now on the planet at her direction, and he wasn't above thinking she'd sold them out to the authorities for a reward.

"Not much," Carolyn said evasively. "Abiyah and I will provide overwatch, keep you in the loop about movement around the building, and then once you're on your way, we'll sneak off and fly out ourselves. This way neither of us is connected to the other."

"I'm overwhelmed by your concern," Kage said.

"It is what it is." She shrugged. "I'm a mercenary, you're lucky I came here at all. I want no part of whatever you're into that's making you steal top secret Kheprian military hardware, and I couldn't care less about the internal squabbles of your little band of pirates and thieves. My interest at this point is to leave here unnoticed and fly as far away from you as possible… I've never seen such a small group create so much chaos wherever they go."

"Thank you."

"Wasn't a compliment."

"IT'S ALL PREPPED to move," Twingo said quietly, closing the lid on the shielded coffin he and Kage had cobbled together using scraps from around the city. Theoretically the box would thwart casual security scans and allow them to move the body up out of the subbasement of the engine overhaul facility they'd stashed it in.

The place saw little traffic as it only worked on intra-atmospheric engines for the local cargo shuttles. It wasn't that there weren't that many shuttles, it was more that the engines used were so reliable there wasn't a need for a heavily staffed shop. The old-timer that ran the place had rented them the space they needed, accepting cash, after Twingo had talked him up about his longing for the old plasma turbines that had been popular for a time on ConFed worlds.

"You seem like nice enough youngsters," had been his response as he pocketed the credit chits.

"Let's get it up on the main floor and then wait for our ride," Kage said. "You think it's Mok coming back to get us?"

"Hard to say," Twingo said. "It would make sense, but if it is there are ways he could have gotten a hold of us directly. I checked all of our dead-drop accounts… nothing. It's like he's dropped through a wormhole without a trace."

They grunted and swore as they maneuvered the clunky coffin into the freight lift and started up towards the main floor. The shop was along the perimeter of what had once been a bustling spaceport, but once the newer facility opened to the south, the only thing left on the complex were the local scrap haulers and a burgeoning package delivery service that advertised it had a way of smoothing out pesky import control issues. What that meant was that there were fourteen square kilometers of tarmac that was barely used, and the duracrete was too dense for the weather to wear down or the plant life to break through. Twingo thought there was something decidedly eerie about an abandoned spaceport. It was like standing in the middle of a tarmac desert.

"Guys… you have incoming," Carolyn's voice came over the com. "Three unidentified craft are converging on your location fast… none of them appear to be your ride out of there. I'd advise you go back down into the subbasement."

"Why bother?" Kage asked on the open channel. "They know we're here."

In less than a minute Kage and Twingo, still standing on either side of the improvised coffin, were bathed in a harsh light as three shuttles settled into a hover and arrayed themselves in front of the shop's main doors. Twingo just sighed, certain that it was the authorities and that they'd been tracked the whole time.

Kage's jaw jutted out defiantly and he glared up at the hovering ships, making rude gestures with his two smaller arms. Twingo almost laughed aloud at the little Veran, but something began to tickle at his ears, something familiar. The sound grew into a dull rumble that Kage now noticed as well; he frowned and looked at Twingo. Before they could confer, the lead shuttle exploded in a magnificent fireball, the concussion knocking them flat on their backs.

When Twingo sat up, shaking his head to clear it, he saw something shoot overhead. Another shuttle exploded and the ground shook from four massive plasma thrust engines… the Phoenix had arrived. His eyes welled up and his chest was tight with conflicting emotions as he saw the ship—his ship—wheel about and come hard at the remaining shuttle, the punishing roar of her engines making breathing damn near impossible.

The third shuttle turned and zipped away to the north in the opposite direction of the big gunship, but Jason wasn't having it. The Phoenix bellowed like an enraged animal as she tore off into the night after it, the sound of the engines still hammering at them even after she was well out of sight.

"Splash three," Carolyn said calmly. "I believe you can handle things from here."

"Oh yeah… I'm gonna handle the shit out of this," Jason's voice broke in on the channel. He didn't sound all that happy.

"We're out then," the Viper said. "You owe me."

Still lying on his back, Twingo looked up as the Phoenix rumbled over the building, dropping her landing gear and settling onto the tarmac with a slight bounce. Twingo could see that she was in pretty rough shape, but when he saw the angry set to Jason's jaw as he came stomping down the ramp, he decided now wasn't the time to make an issue of the ship's mistreatment.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Jason shouted at them when he was within earshot. "I don't hear from you for months, and then I get a call from Whitney, of all people, saying you're in deep shit? And you're working with Mok on something?"

"No time!" Kage shouted, grabbing the cart with the coffin on it. "We need to get the hell out of here while the getting is good." Jason narrowed his eyes and looked as if he wanted to argue the point further, but instead he jerked his head in the direction of the open cargo bay and let the pair struggle past with their load without further comment… or offer to help.

By the time the local first responders made it to the scene, the Phoenix was long gone, flying south below the sensor grids over the large stretches of uninhabited swampland before nosing up over the equator and pushing to orbit. The forged credentials and clean transponder codes they were flying made it fairly easy to get off the sleepy planet, the orbital control authorities apparently having little to no contact with the people on the ground.

Jason sat silently in the pilot's seat, still seething. Twingo knew his human friend could be touchy, and his temper was somewhat unpredictable, but the radiating waves of anger coming off the man surprised and scared him. Jason and Crusher had decided on their own to fly off and indulge themselves by giving in to their baser instincts and violent tendencies, so why should he be this angry because he and Kage had also found something to occupy their time?

If he was pissed because they'd been cavorting about with Saditava Mok, then he was going to go ballistic when he found out what was sitting in the cargo hold… and why.

"IS… is that what I think it is?" Crusher asked. Jason stood there staring down into the makeshift shipping container, his face an unreadable mask.

"If you think it's a prototype second-generation battlesynth body then yes… it is what you think it is," Kage answered.

"It's just a body? It hasn't been integrated with a processing matrix?" Jason asked.

"Nope. Just a body."

"So why do you have it?" Jason pressed. "Putting aside the fact that its very existence is highly, highly illegal, why are you two dipshits working with gangsters and assassins to steal a body you have no use for?"

"Well… there is one other thing," Twingo said, now treading very carefully and choosing his next words precisely.

"Well?" Jason demanded. His posture had shifted and Twingo knew he was on dangerous ground. As per usual, Kage decided this would be a good time to be “helpful.”

"Part of Lucky was found during the post-battle assessment Mok's people did on Khepri. Tauless thinks his primary matrix is still intact, so we've been hunting around for this rumored lab to steal a body and try to reintegrate—" That was as far as he got because Jason palmed the little Veran's head and slammed it down onto the crate, holding it there.

"Use your words," Kage managed to squeeze out from where Jason had his face squished into the metal.

"What the hell did you just say? You're telling me Lucky has been alive this whole time and I'm just now finding out about it!!" Jason's face was a dangerous shade of purple and a vein was throbbing in his forehead. Twingo knew that thanks to Doc's irresponsible tinkering with the genetic code of a species he was barely familiar with, Jason's adrenal response was unpredictable and dangerous when he became enraged. Apparently he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

"Let him go," Crusher said firmly, his body quartered away from Jason and his right hand on the grip of his sidearm. "Now, Jason." The human eyed the Galvetic warrior for a long moment and Twingo could almost see rationality warring with the anger in his friend before he opened his hand and let Kage slip to the floor, rubbing his face.

"Someone had better start talking… and now." Jason stepped back from the container and crossed his arms over his chest.

Over the next two hours, Twingo and Kage filled them in on the hunt for a replacement body and the odds that Lucky was still alive somewhere inside the charred and twisted remains that had been found on Khepri. Crusher seemed completely immersed in the story, but Jason still stood there like a statue. Every once in a while he'd look down at the body, but that was it. No questions, no comments, and nothing to indicate he wasn't going to fly off the handle again once they'd wrapped up.

"So Mok has Lucky's remains right now?" Jason asked.

"Yes."

"If you contact him to bring them, and Tauless, back to S'Tora, would he do it?"

"I don't see why not," Kage said. "I'm not sure why you're so hung up on his involvement. He's been nothing but helpful."

"Mok is the kingpin of one of the largest criminal organizations in the quadrant," Jason said. "You'd do well to remember that. There's nothing for free when dealing with these types, and I'm afraid to find out what he'll ask for in return after you've run up such a high tab."

"Where has Doc been this whole time?" Crusher asked.

"Back home," Kage answered. "You know him… probably sitting around reading and working on some pet project. He's aware of what we're doing, but he decided at the last minute he'd rather not be involved."

Jason just grunted at that and rolled his eyes. "Make the call to Mok," he said. "I'm changing course and we're heading home. I almost can't overstate how dangerous it is having this aboard. Did you bother to think about what might happen if you're even successful at this?"

"What do you mean?" Twingo asked.

"Lucky was a recognized sentient species," Jason said. "Despite some of the finer details that caused problems, he was more or less free to go where he wanted. Just stuffing his brain into this body doesn't make its existence any less problematic. Hell, for all we know this will get us into even more trouble since we've taken an inert prototype and integrated it with a battle-hardened matrix."

"Ah," Twingo said, turning a bit pale. "I see your point. So do you want me to tell Mok we've had a change of plans?"

"No," Jason said after a moment. "But you may have created bigger problems than we can easily deal with this time. You have no idea who the other group of hitters was that got to the lab before you?"

"None… all we know is they stole another of the prototypes and then rigged the place to blow. They didn't seem too concerned with leaving us alive when they made their escape since they ran right by Kage's team without so much as a second look."

"I wouldn't worry about who they are, Captain. We'll find out soon enough," Crusher said. "The Viper was right… they've been tracking these idiots the whole time. I don't think we'll have to wait long before they make another appearance."

"Good times," Jason sighed, turning to leave the cargo hold. "Twingo, if you want to make it back to S'Tora anytime soon—or at all—I'd suggest you get your blue ass into Engineering and get the slip-drive realigned."

Twingo grumbled at the comment, but he was glad to escape the tension in the cargo hold and get back to the familiar confines of the gunship's engineering bays. He could tell just from the feel through the deck that the ship was not running well, which meant that Jason and Crusher had been abusing the hell out of her without making sure proper maintenance was being done. He couldn't make them understand that the Phoenix, while smaller, had most of the problems the larger starships had when it came to keeping her flying safely. The amount of work he was facing due to their incompetence rankled him, but it still felt good to be home.

CHAPTER 6

"IF WE LEAVE the Phoenix parked out on the landing pad, we can use the hangar floor as a workspace and have plenty of room," Jason said, his voice echoing off the walls of the cavernous hangar and base of operations they'd dug back into a mountain on the planet S'Tora. "The only issue I see is that we don't have the ability to generate the sort of power you're talking about."

"SURE WE DO," Kage said. "We can tap directly into the Phoenix's power MUX. She's got an anti-matter reactor that's really too big for a ship that size and will easily be able to generate the surge we'll need to activate the battlesynth's internal cells."

"Twingo?" Jason asked.

"It shouldn't be an issue," the engineer said. "The ship can produce the needed power and just buying the heavy cables to run in here won't arouse the sort of suspicion a portable fusion generator would. Mok should be here tomorrow with everything we'll need aboard his ship, including Lucky and Tauless."

"Is he coming here personally?" Jason asked.

"That's the impression I got," Twingo said.

Jason said nothing, but his friends could tell that he wasn't pleased about this. Everything Mok did was calculated for his own benefit, but not knowing exactly why the gangster seemed to have such an interest in their small outfit bothered Jason. It defied logic given that Mok could afford to field a professional military. A small band of mercenaries working jobs along the periphery should have been something well below his notice. This new wrinkle where Mok had taken such a direct role in trying to help Kage and Twingo resurrect Lucky just made him more suspicious. What concessions would he try to wring from Jason once it was all over?

As it turned out, Mok was wasting no time in getting to them and his ship hit orbit over S'Tora in the middle of the night, local time. Jason was roused out of bed and asked to come in and get the Phoenix out of the way so Mok could land his large cargo shuttles on the pad to unload all the equipment he'd brought. Grumbling about the time and the fact that damn near everyone else on the crew was at least capable enough to fly the ship in circles for a few hours, Jason arrived at the hangar disheveled and in a foul mood.

Being mindful of the locals, he slowly eased the Phoenix off the pad and drifted lazily up and away over the sea where he commanded the autopilot to orbit in a loose figure-eight while he watched the camera feeds from the hangar. Almost as soon as he'd cleared the area, the first of five medium-duty cargo shuttles touched down, disgorged its payload, and took off again to make room for the next. He leaned forward with interest as Saditava Mok walked from the last shuttle and warmly greeted both Twingo and Kage. Tauless came out next; he was followed by a crewmember pushing something Jason recognized from their last mission together: a battlesynth long-term stasis pod. That must be what they were keeping Lucky's processor matrix in.

Mok looked around the pad as the shuttle lifted off, pointed and made a comment about Jason's 1967 Camaro convertible that was parked under a storage overhang, and then looked right up into the camera, tossing it a mocking salute.

"Sometimes I really hate that smug son of a bitch," Jason ground out. The camera that Jason was using to watch the parade of equipment from Mok's ship was carefully hidden within the rock face above the hangar doors. The fact the crime boss had so casually pointed it out and correctly assumed he was monitoring it chaffed at his already raw nerves. It was clear that Mok had set his people on gathering intel on Omega Force's base of operations and he had no issue with letting Jason know it. Maybe Carolyn was right… maybe putting down roots and making a permanent dirtside home had been a mistake.

"We're all clear, Jason… bring her back in whenever you're ready," Twingo's voice broke in over the com.

Whenever he was ready. Jason thought that over for a moment and actually had to fight the impulse to point her nose to the night sky and just leave again. Maybe he'd go to Restaria and see what the Reddix brothers were up to, or he could sneak back to Terranovus and visit Russ Johnson at Earth's new space military training centers. Anything to avoid going back and facing the reality that awaited him in that hangar. While he hadn't really dealt with Lucky's death in a healthy way, he had put it behind him. Now Twingo and Kage had come along and offered him the cruelest gift of all: hope.

"HELLO, Jason… you're looking well."

"Mok." Jason nodded politely and surprised everyone—Mok most of all—by offering his hand in greeting.

"I'll return to my ship and allow everyone to get back to sleep," Mok said after an uncomfortable pause. "I'll come back in the morning with my technical team and we can begin setting up and then we'll leave you to your task."

"Thanks, Mok," Twingo said. "We'll just wait for them to begin unpacking the crates. Then the real hard work begins."

"I can imagine," Mok said smoothly and, with a final bow, walked back out the yawning hangar doors just as a small orbital jumper dropped to a low hover near the edge of the landing pad and lowered a ramp. Once Mok and his security team were aboard, it zipped off into the night.

"What did you mean by 'real hard work?'" Jason asked.

"This isn't as simple as slapping some connectors together and flipping a switch," Twingo said. "Kage downloaded as much of the technical package as he could, but he's still decrypting it. If he wasn't able to get all the specs and procedures that Tauless will need, this will have likely turned out to be a lot of risk for no reward."

"I see. Well, standing around worrying about it won't do anything tonight. I'm going to sleep aboard the Phoenix… see you in the morning." Jason turned and walked back up the ramp of his ship, closing the pressure doors and, on a whim, raised the ramp and locked her up tight. The last thing he saw before the ramp fully closed was the main hangar doors rolling ponderously on their tracks.

He walked up to the bridge and activated the ship's external security systems and prepped her for a quick start. It wasn't that he actually expected any trouble or duplicity from Mok at this point, but he was still nervous about having an illegal prototype bit of military hardware sitting on the floor inside the hangar. S'Tora was a sleepy, backwater world and the coastal towns were even more laid back. It tended to lull one into a false sense of security and that's when slipups happened. In his line of work, a slipup could very well prove fatal.

With one last look around the ship, he made sure his armament was nearby and then slipped into his rack with his clothes still on. If he was lucky, it would be many hours from now before the ship woke him up and then only to tell him that breakfast was ready.

JASON WASN'T LUCKY.

The insistent tug at the back of his mind that was the ship interfacing with his neural implant to wake him up let him know immediately that something was wrong. He tried to activate the external sensor feeds and found that all the imagers were just transmitting nausea-inducing patterns of swirling colors.

"What the hell?"

He rolled off his rack and slipped on his tactical harness, his sidearms still in their holsters, and plucked the heavy plasma rifle up from where it rested against the bulkhead. While not his weapon of choice, he'd learned the hard way that the collateral damage from his beloved railgun made it not ideal for all situations.

Instead of running down into the cargo bay and lowering the ramp, Jason made his way into the starboard engineering bay and commanded one of the dorsal access hatches open after cutting the interior lights. He quickly climbed the ladder and low-crawled out onto the top of the Phoenix, where he crouched and listened. The night was dead quiet, but he knew someone was out there and had successfully defeated the gunship's external cameras. Craning his head up to the top of the port vertical stabilizer where one of the cameras was housed he saw that something foreign was attached to the transparent bubble.

Apparently whoever was infiltrating their base knew enough about the ship to deploy multi-spectral noise generators over the imagers, but not enough to be able to climb up on her and internally disable the system. That made Jason feel marginally better, but it did show that whoever was sneaking about was a pro. He walked across the upper hull as quietly as he could, stopping near the port wing root and crouching down, switching his ocular implants to mid-wave infrared. As soon as he did, two hotspots showed up near the hangar doors that hadn't been there in the visible spectrum, or at least hadn't been visible in the low light.

The figures were draped head-to-toe in some sort of loose, adaptive camouflage that must have been good enough to spoof the building's camera system since there were none of the odd covers on the imagers embedded in the mountain. Jason made a mental note to have Twingo upgrade the system to multispectral and moved further down the wing of the gunship to where the tip hung over the parking apron. Below him was a shag pile of large, unforgiving rocks that the mild surf of the bay lapped against to give him a bit of sound cover.

Gripping the trailing edge of the wing, Jason carefully slid his body over until he was hanging by his fingertips. He looked down and carefully judged his landing area before letting go, dropping nearly twelve meters and absorbing the impact with his legs. The two rocks he'd picked to land on were some of the few that weren't covered in algae from high tide, and the soft soles of his boots gripped and held. He checked the com again and found it was still being jammed. Damn… whoever these guys were, they weren't your run-of-the-mill criminals so that ruled out anybody he and Crusher may have pissed off on the frontier.

Before exposing himself, Jason pulled his com unit and scrolled through a few more functions to see if he could find anything that hadn't been jammed or otherwise defeated. The local networks were locked out on the device altogether, so he went back to pinging the Phoenix with his neural implants. Ah… there it was. While the ship's normal surveillance imagers were all blocked, all the targeting sensors were still retracted and unexposed. He worked through all the mental syntax commands, trying to find some combination that would allow him to deploy the targeting imagers when he finally gave up and told the ship to deploy weapons. The command would automatically activate all targeting and defensive sensors, but it would be noisy.

The clanks of the rear cannons deploying from near the ramp were Jason's cue to climb the hill and see who had been poking around his hangar. The first thing he saw was that the bastards had managed to open up a decent-sized hole in the door without making a sound. Impressive. They were looking at the now-active gunship and arraying themselves into a defensive position.

"In for a buck… or however the hell that saying goes," Jason muttered and brought the big plasma rifle up and sighted on the nearest target. He squeezed off a sustained burst that launched the bipedal being off its feet and sent it skidding across the tarmac. Jason's brain registered two facts even as the second target turned towards him: That plasma burst should have incinerated a biological being, not sent it flying. The second fact was the target made a distinctly metallic clatter as it skidded over to where the Camaro was parked. Even before the second assailant threw off its camo shroud, he knew what he was dealing with: battlesynths.

"Should've brought the damn railgun," he muttered, holding down the trigger and hammering the one still standing even as the other leapt to its feet and switched over to combat mode. Glowing red eyes stared straight through him as it came towards him at a dead run. With a mental command that he'd kept firmly in the front of his mind, the Phoenix tracked the synth with her rear cannons and opened up. The effect wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

The first shot seemed to blast the battlesynth sideways, but the four subsequent shots not only blasted a section of his hangar door to shreds, they blew both battlesynths inside the building.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Jason huffed, sprinting over the pad and approaching the door with reckless abandon. He'd barely cleared the gaping maw in the door when his plasma rifle was neatly plucked from his hands and an open palm slammed into his chest. The blow was vicious, but since he was still alive he had to assume it wasn't a full-strength hit. He landed hard and was trying to catch his breath while drawing his sidearms when both battlesynths walked back out of the opening and approached him.

"That's enough!" a voice boomed across the landing pad. "499, 302… stand down. Immediately!" Both battlesynths assumed a non-threatening posture and stood down from full combat mode. Jason watched as the eyes faded to their normal glossy onyx and their armament retracted back under their arm fairings.

"We'd hoped to do this clandestinely, Captain… but as usual you have made my job so much more difficult," the voice continued.

"That's sort of my thing," Jason groaned, rolling up into a sitting position and looking around. He couldn't see who had been speaking to him, but it sounded like it was coming from under the Phoenix.

"If you wouldn't mind telling your ship to stop aiming its cannons at my associates?"

Jason shrugged and sent the command to retract the weaponry and put the Phoenix in a passive surveillance mode. With Crusher not there, he had little hope of defeating two battlesynths now that he'd given up the element of surprise and had already been disarmed.

"That's better. My name is Alocur." Jason turned and saw a well-built pru walking out from around one of the Phoenix's main landing gear struts.

"I'm… oh hell, you already know who I am," Jason said, standing up slowly while keeping a wary eye on the two battlesynths who were staring at him impassively. "So, Alocur… do I really even need to guess what a pru is doing here with two battlesynths poking around my base?"

"I think you know why we're here," Alocur said. "If you'd be so kind as to invite me in, we can discuss this civilly and hopefully come to some sort of understanding."

"Just one question before that… who do you represent?"

"Kheprian Intelligence."

"Figures," Jason said, watching as a swarm of little black drones detached themselves from the Phoenix's sensors and flew off into the night.

CHAPTER 7

"KHEPRIAN INTELLIGENCE, eh?" Twingo asked. Jason had roused the rest of the crew, tried unsuccessfully to call Crusher and wake him up, and then called Mok to let him know what was happening. The last one had been with some reluctance, but in the end Mok's perspective on what Alocur might say could be useful. As a concession, the Kheprian operative agreed to leave his battlesynth muscle outside the ravaged doors with instructions to let Mok through when he arrived.

"THAT'S RIGHT," Alocur said. He sipped tentatively at the cup of coffee Twingo had put in front of him and then nodded at the engineer with a half-smile. "Not bad!"

Mok must not have been asleep because he arrived less than thirty minutes after Jason had made contact, rushing though the rip in the doors and wearing the same expensive suit he'd had on when they last saw him. When Alocur saw him, the shock and recognition on his face were easy for Jason to read now that he'd had some exposure to Pruvian body language.

"What are you doing here?" Mok blurted out when he saw the pru sitting at the table.

"I might ask you the same question, Saditava Mok." Alocur said the name mockingly and now Jason's interest was piqued.

"I'm helping my … associates … with a delicate matter," Mok said. "Are you here at the behest of the Kheprian government?"

"So he's really an intelligence operative?" Jason interrupted.

"He is," Mok confirmed. "Quite a high ranking one… far too high to be out here along the edge of the expanse chasing down petty matters that—"

"I'd hardly call the theft of a prototype battlesynth body to be petty, Mok," Alocur said. "Yes… I'm here representing Khepri, but not because they asked me to. It's… complicated."

"Un-complicate it," Jason said.

Alocur looked around the table and then gave the Pruvian equivalent of a shrug and motioned to Twingo for more coffee.

"Some years ago, my office was tasked with tracking down rumors that some faction within the Ministry of Martial Affairs was secretly trying to reactivate the battlesynth program," he began without preamble. "More specifically, we'd heard credible rumors that they were trying to produce an even more powerful, capable combat unit.

"I was given a surprising amount of freedom and resources to accomplish my task, including four battlesynths and a twelve-person technical staff that had been part of the original battlesynth project. We quietly poked around the edges of clandestine operations, trying to see who might be brazen and foolish enough to violate interstellar treaties. It wasn't until your group rained chaos upon my planet, freed a group of untethered battlesynths, escaped with that group, and destroyed a military facility that we began to see movement from the key players. Apparently you disrupted their timetable and spooked them enough to make a few critical mistakes."

"You're welcome," Jason said modestly.

"Soon after, we began to get intel from our field units of a team that seemed to be doing recon on the same facilities we were." Alocur ignored Jason's comment. "The second time they showed up at a place we had under surveillance, I went personally to see who it could be. Imagine my surprise when it was none other than the merc unit that had wreaked havoc on Khepri and absconded with Lot 700 before the dust had even settled.

"We then began concentrating on you and started digging into your past exploits. Criminals though you all are, you do seem to hold to a certain pattern… whatever your interest was in the revamped battlesynth program, I was confident that you weren't trying to steal it for another government or for a criminal enterprise. We also noticed right away that not all of you were involved and that the group's leadership was missing."

"You knew that we had a battlesynth on our crew at one time, right?" Jason asked.

"Yes… Combat Unit 777, known as 'Lucky' once he began to work as a member of your crew," Alocur said. "There's a lot about that situation that doesn't make sense to me. Would it be possible for me to speak to Lucky?"

"He didn't make it through the Khepri operation," Twingo said while everyone else just looked uncomfortable. "At least not wholly intact."

Alocur narrowed his eyes for a moment, looked at Tauless and then back at Twingo, and his eyes widened in understanding.

"I had it all wrong. Remarkable," he whispered. "You weren't looking for a weapons program. You were looking for a way to save your friend." Before any of them could answer, he pressed ahead with his story. "For some reason it seemed your team had better intel than we'd been able to gather on potential lab sites, so we decided to simplify our procedures and began tracking you, letting your group do all the hard work."

"So when you jumped us in the lab and stole one of the bodies—" Twingo left the question dangling.

"Correct… we didn't attack you because we'd deemed you to not be a threat. We took one of the bodies to provide incontrovertible evidence to Ministry leadership along with a data dump from the servers, rigged the place to blow, and got off the planet before the local authorities could react. I take it you were successful in stealing one of the prototypes as well?"

"Yes," Jason said, not seeing any reason to lie when the evidence was sitting on the hangar floor below them. "I take it you're here to reclaim it?"

"This is where the story gets complicated, as I mentioned," Alocur said. "While it's not been widely known, there's been an internal shakeup on Khepri. On all the Pillar Worlds, actually."

"How big a shakeup?" Mok asked.

"You could almost call it a coup."

"What?!"

"You really don’t know, do you?" Alocur looked at Mok speculatively. "I'd suggest you verify what I'm telling you with your contacts within Imperial Intelligence, I'm sure they're tracking this closely. Apparently there's a new faction within the ConFed Council that has moved quickly to solidify power and is now restructuring the entire organization."

"The ConFed is all but dead," Jason scoffed.

"That's where you couldn't be more wrong," Alocur said. "They were wounded when the Central Banking System folded after our AI was destroyed, but they already have a new one ready to come online and the Fleet isn't any less powerful than it was a year ago. The decisions coming out of the Council right now might not make a lot of sense, but this new faction is able to get everyone moving in the same direction in a way that no other controlling party has been able to."

"What's this have to do with Khepri?" Tauless asked.

"Our home is a Pillar World. In the past, not much of an issue was made of the old treaties, but this new Council is reminding everyone just who is in charge. Khepri was able to act with autonomy thanks to being the world that controlled most of the ConFed's economic power, but that's no longer true. As you'd expect, our planet's leadership folded almost immediately from the slightest threat of force from the Council."

They all sat in silence a moment, considering the various implications of a power grab within the ConFed hierarchy. For as long as anyone could remember, the ConFed was little more than a scheme where star systems paid an exorbitant amount for the dubious protection of the Fleet while the core worlds enjoyed the spoils. The whole thing reminded Jason of how the mafia worked back on Earth. It was a crap system, but the alternatives were bleak. One could entreat some of the other major powers in the area, but without some significant resource the Saabror Protectorate wouldn't even entertain an offer, and the Eshquarian Empire was just a touch on the side of being xenophobic to the point they didn't like dealing with anyone outside the Concordian Cluster. The Cridal Cooperative was a promising upstart, but they were small and could offer little in the way of real protection. The reality for most small systems was that if they wanted to not be viewed as prey, they needed to accept the ConFed's terms.

From what Alocur was telling them, something had drastically changed in the wake of the recent economic upheaval. If the ConFed went from being basically a protection racket that paid lip service to the independence of its citizens to something truly sinister in its quest for power, they were all in for a bumpy ride. Under its current charter, the ConFed Starfleet was spread thin and used more for policing actions and projecting influence, but if new management decided it wanted to use the full might of its military to bring member systems to heel? Jason could only shake his head at the potentially horrific new scenario they were looking at.

"So why are you here?" Jason asked after a long moment.

"I can't trust anyone in my chain of command right now," Alocur said. "Given the political climate on Khepri, I'm afraid that if I were to hand over what we've found, all I would be doing was handing the ConFed a new weapon to abuse. With the old treaties now in question, it's not outside the realm of possibility to think that the production of these new battlesynths would not only be encouraged but funded by the Council itself. As for the exact reason I'm here? Since you also have one of the new prototypes, I had to determine what your intentions were."

"And?" Jason pressed.

"I'm convinced you're not working for the Council or any other factions to gain access to a weapon system, but there are still issues with letting you keep it," Alocur said carefully. "Perhaps we can discuss this further after you've all had time to process what I've told you."

"Jason, I'd like to return to my ship and get some independent confirmation on things from my sources." Mok made it sound like a request.

"I don't give a shit." Jason shrugged. "You're not a prisoner here. I wouldn't mind hearing what you find out, however."

"Of course," Mok said, rising. He looked out over the mezzanine's railing down to the hangar floor and frowned. "That's odd."

Jason stood and peered over the rail and saw that both battlesynths that had come with Alocur were kneeling in front of the stasis pod, not moving at all.

"What the hell?"

"Are the remains of Combat Unit—forgive me—are the remains of Lucky inside that stasis chamber?" Alocur asked.

"They are," Twingo said.

"Leave them be, please," Alocur said. "They're paying their respects. Lucky's exploits have circulated through the ranks of the remaining battlesynths. From what I understand, he's something of a folk hero to them."

"His own lot mates didn't see it that way," Jason muttered, drawing a curious look from the Kheprian spy. "They're welcome to stay as long as they wish. How the hell did they know he was in there?"

"They probably heard everything we said from the hole in the door," Twingo said. "You remember what it was like trying to sneak a word past Lucky. He could hear through bulkheads on a ship underway."

"Thank you, Captain," Alocur said. "I don't pretend to understand their culture or ways, but I've come to realize they're much more complicated than the Ministry would have the public believe."

"You have no idea." Kage laughed.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?"

"Why don't you check the thirty-six messages I left you," Jason snapped.

"Oh! I turned my com off so I could get some sleep," Crusher said, digging around in his pockets. "You only left nine messages. I feel like you're being overly dramatic. Perhaps if you—oh shit!"

"They're with us!" Jason shouted when he realized Crusher was reacting to the still kneeling battlesynths near the closed stasis pod.

"I feel like I missed a lot."

"Check your damn messages!"

"Captain, a word?" Alocur seemed to materialize from the shadows near the hole in the door. Jason motioned for the pru to follow him over to the smaller of two open-air lifts that ran from the floor up to the mezzanine level.

"What's on your mind?" Jason asked after handing a steaming mug of his own brand of coffee to the eager pru. He made a mental note to check and make sure Rocky Mountain Coffee was opening up to the Khepri market. Judging by Alocur's reaction, the stringent drink would be a hit.

"It seems to me that you don't have everything you need to try and attempt something as ambitious as transferring your friend into that new body."

"I assumed you were going to tell me we had to destroy the prototype." Jason was genuinely surprised that the pru spy hadn't opened with a strong offence to convince him it was the only smart move.

"Going back to what we discussed last night, there are enough concerns on Khepri and within the Ministry of Martial Affairs that leave me struggling to know who I can trust," Alocur said. "Nobody knows exactly what the new generation battlesynths look like, not exactly. Seeing one in person made me realize that unless one had intimate knowledge of the secret program, they almost certainly wouldn't make that leap since they don't look much like their predecessors."

"You buttering me up for something here?"

"What?" Alocur was completely confused by the idiom. "What I'm saying is that despite Mok's impressive equipment and Tauless's … enthusiasm … you won't be able to pull this off without my help."

"What are you offering and what are you asking for?" Jason was much more precise in his language this time. He'd been around enough spooks to know that the devil was in the details and often what they didn't say was what could come back and bite you in the ass.

"I have the technical team and the full data set from the lab's servers needed to try and awaken Lucky within the new body. Just so we're clear on this, without my help you will almost certainly fail and there can be no second tries. I consulted with one of my engineers after leaving here and she agrees that any mistakes made during this integration will result in the permanent loss of your friend… assuming he's still in there dormant. In return… I'd like to hire Omega Force." He said the last part with such obvious reluctance that Jason suspected it might be an act.

"You're walking around with Kheprian military hardware and two battlesynths… I can't imagine what you would need us for." Jason laughed.

"Not for your usual type of work," Alocur assured him. "There is a splinter faction within the intelligence community on Khepri that would very much like to get to the bottom of the sudden shift in the ConFed Council's posture and reorganization. Nothing we're seeing makes any sense unless there's a new player at the table, and we need to know who that is.

"Before you start protesting, we've already made some inroads by exploiting our contacts within ConFed Special Service and their intelligence apparatus. We've been able to determine that a Fleet battleship limped back home from an ultra-secret, deep-space mission that cost the task force damn near all their ships. From what we understand, whoever is working the levers behind the scenes appeared shortly after that ship made it back to its home port."

"And the mission?" Jason asked, his mouth now completely dry as the story sounded too familiar to be coincidence.

"We've been trying to locate the captain of that vessel," Alocur said. "We think he might have information crucial to identifying who this person or persons is if our information is right and they came from beyond ConFed space on his ship."

"What makes you think he's even still alive?

"Because ConFed Intelligence Section has been quietly looking for him too. We think it may be to silence him permanently."

"ConFed Intelligence Section isn't all that fond of us." Jason blew his breath out through pursed lips, thinking. "Having them scouring space looking for him could complicate things if we're recognized. But if you can successfully put Lucky's matrix into that new body and wake him up… I'll agree to look for your wayward captain. I'm assuming you want us because your splinter faction doesn't have the resources to infiltrate the disgusting places this captain may have fled to."

"That and you seem to have a knack for kicking up information that other people try very hard to keep hidden," Alocur said, now relaxed and leaning against the railing after Jason had agreed to his terms. "Something big is happening in the quadrant, Captain Burke, and I don't think it's anything good. It's just a hunch, but I'm rarely wrong about these things."

Jason watched the pru walk away and begin speaking into his com unit to coordinate with his people. He had little doubt that the ConFed ship Alocur was speaking of was the one Jason had saved during a mission where they'd destroyed an ancient construct that had actually been a weapon of horrific scope. It had the ability to obliterate entire stars from billions of lightyears away, but he'd managed to demolish it before the ConFed could get their hands on it. The last remnants of that culture existed in a carefully encrypted file stored statically in his neural implant.

The only thing Jason could think of was that the species he'd saved that battleship from had infiltrated the ship after they'd left or that the captain had bumbled into yet another species and brought them back. It seemed unlikely that whoever hitched a ride back would be able to start exerting their will over the ConFed's political system so soon, but Alocur seemed adamant that his sources were correct.

He'd have dismissed the task out of hand if it wasn't for the fact that Earth was now becoming known as a fledgling power in the quadrant. If the ConFed was looking to expand and was doing so by threat of force, the new upstart species with the oddly advanced starships might be a tempting target.

"Damnit," he swore softly, tossing the rest of his coffee down the drain. "I guess nothing can ever be easy."

CHAPTER 8

ALOCUR HAD BEEN modest when he claimed he had access to a technical team. Once the pru had made the call, a swarm of high-level engineers had invaded their hangar and began efficiently inspecting and configuring all the machinery that Mok had procured. Tauless had tried his best to keep up and be useful, but it quickly became apparent that compared to the professionals he was little more than a hobbyist. Though he didn't show it, Jason thought it had to have been a crushing blow to the young pru's ego.

Strangely enough, all the engineers that came down to help all seemed to have some passing familiarity with Tauless, or had at least heard of his family, and seemed genuinely pleased to meet him. Jason watched the interactions closely to distract himself from the fact that a bunch of strangers were getting ready to desecrate his friend's corpse. He also wanted to get a better handle on the pru as a species. He'd heard of them, of course, as one of the ConFed founding members, but he'd never even seen one before Lucky had dragged him back to Khepri to help one of his creators he called a “Master.”

"So what's all that going to be eventually?" Jason asked Twingo, nodding towards where the technical team was assembling a room within the hangar.

"Hermetically sealed environment where the transfer will take place," Twingo said. "There will be two more identical to that one by the time they're done. They have to prep Lucky for removing his primary matrix and supporting components in the first one. They'll sterilize him and remove any of the extraneous hardware still attached while the machines keep him unconscious, for lack of a better term.

"The second room will be a cleanroom that's pumped full of inert gas; that's where they'll perform the procedure to de-integrate Lucky from his current body. During this time, the new body will be going through a similar prep and then, in the third room, the two will be joined."

"And after they stuff his matrix into the new body?"

"That's where the dangerous part comes in," Twingo said. "Lucky will then be moved into that chamber over near the far wall and power from the Phoenix's main reactor will be routed in. Massive amounts of current will be pumped through the new body until its onboard powerplant comes online and stabilizes. After that we let him cool down and then, hopefully, we'll be able to wake him."

"Where's Kage?" Crusher asked, butting into the conversation with his usual grace.

"Working with Alocur's people to decrypt the technical specifications they pulled off the lab servers," Jason said.

"Where's Doc?"

"He's… actually, where the hell is Doc?" Jason asked.

"I… oh, shit," Twingo said. "I forgot to send him a message and let him know we're back. He's going to be pissed about missing all of this."

"Where is he?" Jason asked.

"Tassan," Twingo said. "It's a small city on the other side of the planet that has a university where he's been teaching in exchange for lab space and funding for his own research. Glad you reminded me, Crusher."

"Why did you bring it up?" Jason asked suspiciously.

"He's a friend… I was just wondering where he was," Crusher said, far too defensively for it to be the truth.

"Bullshit," Jason said flatly.

"Before you guys left, Crusher signed almost all of his assets over to Doc," Twingo said absently, looking down at a tablet displaying some sort of schematic. "Pretty much the only things he had when you left were the clothes he was wearing and his weapons… Doc even technically owns Crusher's house."

"You son of a bitch! I knew you were a lying sack of crap!" Jason exploded.

"I feel like I'm missing some—" Twingo's voice broke off as Crusher squeezed his throat shut, choking the engineer.

"I paid for everything because you said you made some bad investments and were broke," Jason fumed.

"Listen, who are you going to believe? Me—someone who followed you through hell and back after Lucky died—or this little shit weasel who is a known liar when it comes to this sort of thing?" Crusher asked. While Twingo gurgled and struggled against the iron grip around his throat, Jason did the math in his head.

"You owe me… damn near three hundred thousand credits!"

"That's absurd!"

"The Phoenix doesn't run on unicorn farts and good intentions, you cheap bastard! Fuel and munitions all cost money!"

"Technically that's your ship and thus your investment and responsibility," Crusher said loftily. "I'll pay you a third of that. It's more than fair since I really don't have that much and you're disgustingly wealthy thanks to your farming venture." Twingo was slapping at the arm holding him and waving his hand over his head.

"I think he wants to add something," Jason said. Crusher let go and Twingo fell to his hands and knees, gulping air and coughing.

"In the spirt of fairness, Crusher had just signed a deal with Galvetor that—"

"Shut UP!" Crusher thundered, glaring down at Twingo. Appearing completely unruffled, the engineer stood up and stepped back behind Jason.

"As I was saying, Crusher personally had enormous land holdings on Restaria and now that Galvetor wants to begin developing that planet our friend here has been selling parcels of land off at a premium. Crusher may likely be richer than you are despite your coffee being such a big hit in this part of the quadrant."

"Okay, okay," Crusher said, putting his hands up. "Two hundred?"

"You said Doc is holding all of his assets right now?" Jason asked with a predatory smile.

"Yep," Twingo said.

"I think I'll take a flight out to the campus and talk to my good buddy," Jason said. "It seems that he's the one I should be talking to about recouping my losses."

Crusher seemed to realize his tactical error and his head hung in defeat. "Damnit," he whispered.

"Don't worry… I won't charge too much interest." Jason laughed as he walked off, whistling to himself.

In reality, all the members of Omega Force were quite wealthy thanks to their own personal endeavors and the profit sharing from their better paying missions. The money meant little to them, it was just another way to keep score within the group. As they began to rake in more than enough cash to live how they pleased, the game then became how to try and get the other guy to part with his money. Kage and Crusher were utterly ruthless when it came to cheating their friends, and now it looked like Jason had been given a gift from the heavens… Doc was the least interested in their petty schemes and games and would hand over a wad of Crusher's money to Jason without a second thought.

While he walked out to prep the Phoenix for departure, thoughts of his friend became a bit less jovial. Doc was back in academia, teaching and doing his own research… would he even be happy to see Jason come roaring in with the gunship to pull him away from all that yet again? Doc had always been the elder statesmen among them, tempering the rashness of the younger members and giving their ragtag group a veneer of respectability. But how much longer would he want to fly around on an uncomfortable warship and put himself in constant danger? He was courageous, but he was no warrior, and more and more Jason could see he wasn't as comfortable in the life as the rest of them were.

"Maybe I should just leave well enough alone," he muttered.

"Leave what alone?" Kage asked from behind him.

"Nothing. What's up?"

"You have a minute to talk? We cracked the data Alocur's team pulled off the servers and there are some interesting things I've found that I think we should be aware of before proceeding."

"Want to take a flight?" Jason asked, nodding towards the waiting gunship. "I'm heading to Assan—No, Tassan?—to pick up Doc. Come to think of it, I'll probably need your help to find him."

"Let's go," Kage said, walking ahead towards the lowered ramp.

"WE REALLY DON'T GET out to see much of this planet, do we?" Kage said. The Phoenix arced lazily over the inland city. Tassan was much different from the sleepy coastal town Omega Force had built their base near. Tall buildings that were blocky yet somehow still graceful reached for the sky, and the surrounding suburbs looked clean and orderly… at least from five hundred meters up.

Jason just grunted at his friend's comment, still digesting everything Kage had told him on the flight across the ocean to the far continent. Apparently the engineers that had come with Alocur had admitted to the code slicer that there was less than a twenty percent chance that the reintegration of a battlesynth matrix into a new body would be successful. They'd been prepared for that, but when they also found out that there was less than five percent of a chance that Lucky would retain his sanity, it gave Jason pause.

As if that wasn't enough, the next bombshell had been the specs on the new body. If it lived up to what its designers said it could do, this next generation of battlesynth would be markedly more powerful than its predecessors. So now Jason was stuck with the moral quandary of continuing on with the procedure or insisting they pull the plug on it before something irreversible was done. If Lucky beat the odds and awoke, but had gone insane and then escaped? It was a risk Jason wasn't sure he was willing to take. The bitch of it was that they wouldn't actually know if the worst had happened until well after the new body was powered up and he was moving around. It was questions like these that made him happy that he would be able to talk to Doc again soon.

They landed the Phoenix at a local aerodrome, the DL-7 looking massive and intimidating parked among the willowy planetary jumpers preferred on S'Tora. Jason himself felt no less conspicuous as he strode down the pristine halls of the university campus, his boots thudding on the polished stone floors. Students and faculty stopped and gawked as the rough-looking, openly armed merc followed the map on his com unit to a medium-sized lecture hall that had already let out. A few students milled around down by the lectern and Jason was struck by how similar the scene was to his brief stint at college while back on Earth. He'd gone right after getting out of the Air Force thinking it would give him some direction. Instead, after two incidents, it was agreed that if he left quietly no criminal charges would be pressed.

Jason spotted Doc standing in the middle of the group, smiling and joking as he talked to them. He looked so comfortable and natural in this environment that Jason almost turned and slunk away, but Doc turned his way, his eyes widening. He began waving furiously for Jason to come down so the choice to leave or stay was firmly ripped from his grasp.

"Look at you! Teaching and wearing regular clothes and everything," Jason said, pasting a forced smile on his face and embracing his friend.

"I'd not heard you were on your way back!" Doc seemed genuinely pleased to see him. "You don't look too bad… a few new scars that I might be able to get rid of if you'll hold still long enough. How's Crusher?"

"Same as always," Jason said. "Is there a place we can—"

"Yes, yes, of course," Doc said. "Everybody, if you'll excuse us. This is one of my dearest, oldest friends and we have much catching up to do. Please just message any questions about the lecture to me and I'll get to them in turn."

The group of young, fashionably dressed aliens looked bemused as their professor walked off with someone whom they'd have crossed the street to avoid under normal circumstances.

Doc led him down a corridor that required an access pass and into a well-appointed lab that hummed with machinery. Jason had never been in a genetics lab so he was mildly disappointed there weren't half-dissected specimens lying about and strange, mutant hybrids locked up in cages.

"I hope this visit means you've put your demons to rest out there on the fringe and you're coming back home permanently," Doc said. "Otherwise I have to assume Crusher sent you here to collect his money and property."

"We'll get to that later," Jason said darkly. "But we're back."

"Did you find what you were looking for out there?"

"Do we ever?"

"No," Doc said simply, shuffling some equipment about on a bench. "But that never stops you two from trying."

"I assume you've heard what the other two were doing with Lucky?" Jason asked.

Doc nodded slowly and carefully, edging towards the door. "I did… there wasn't much my expertise could give to the project, so I sat this one out," he said.

"Well… they've managed to do the impossible and found a second generation body," Jason said. "They're back at the hangar with it and a team of Kheprian engineers getting ready to try the re-integration."

"And you're fine with this?"

"I've shifted my attitude about it slightly," Jason said. "I don't agree with it on principle, but Tauless has sold me on the theory that Lucky isn't dead, just grievously wounded."

"That's one way to look at it," Doc said, squinting as he worked through it in his own head.

"The help from the Kheprians didn't come free… we have a new mission, an actual Omega mission, in exchange for their help trying to shove Lucky's noodle into that new body," Jason said. He paused and looked around the lab and then down at himself, thinking again just how out of place he was and how Doc fit in perfectly. "Look, Doc… you've built a life here and have legitimacy and all the things you were forced to walk away from when Bondrass strong-armed you into servitude. I don't want to pull you away from—"

"Please don't leave me here!" Doc blurted out. "Yes, this is everything I thought I wanted for so long… and I've never been more bored in all my life. I never thought I'd actually be saying this, but I miss the old life. Sure, the ship’s uncomfortable and you are all disgusting, filthy creatures that if left to your own devices would stew in your own—"

"I get the point, Doc."

"—I mean, the smell in the common area is enough to—"

"Doc!"

"Oh, sorry… what I'm saying is please don't kick me off the team because you think that's what's best for me. I can still be useful to Omega Force."

"You're part of the family, Doc," Jason said. "I'd never kick you out even if you stayed here. I've got the Phoenix over in that small aerodrome by the warehouse district. You want me to wait for you or do you have your own ride?"

"I'm ready now," Doc said. He opened a cabinet and tossed a pack on the counter, pulling out the grey uniform they all wore. When he saw Jason's expression he smiled sheepishly. "I hoped you'd come back for me eventually so I've kept go-bags stashed around… just in case."

Jason just smiled and shook his head, trying not to laugh. Only Doc would be so fussy that he assumed if he wasn't ready to leave a millisecond after being asked that they'd leave him behind.

CHAPTER 9

"THEY'VE BEEN in there for fifteen hours at a time breaking it up into shifts. It takes so long to prep and go in that they're all working extended hours."

"ANY WORD of how it's going?" Doc asked.

"None," Crusher said.

The Phoenix had barely touched down on the landing pad from the trip to pick up Doc when Twingo came out of the hangar, already dragging a power cable as thick as Jason's arm up the ramp and grumbling about him holding up their schedule. Now, nearly five days later, exhausted engineers and technicians were walking around with a little more zip in their step and Jason could feel the energy crackle in the air. Without being told, he knew that today was the day… raw power from the heart of the Phoenix would pour into Lucky and fire up his own powerplant. Once it was running, the battlesynth's systems would begin to initialize and soon after they would know if the reward was worth the risk.

"You'll likely want to remain outside the hangar in case there's a… mishap," one of the pru engineers called from the opening of the temporary cleanroom they'd built.

"No argument here," Jason shouted back.

For the first two hours nothing happened. Then, without warning, the Phoenix rumbled and shook a bit and the crew backed away from where they had been resting under the wing. Jason looked up and saw that the exhaust vents had opened up on the dorsal hull and superheated gas was pouring into the muggy evening air. The reek of ozone and the prickle on his skin were additional signs that whatever was going on inside that shelter, it was taking a prodigious amount of power and his ship had throttled up her main reactor to keep up with the demand. The onslaught lasted for another twenty minutes before they heard the Phoenix settle down and the cryogenic tanks placed near the third sealed-off chamber began hissing.

"That's it," Twingo said. "They're cooling him down now. That means they were able to start the powerplant and that all his individual subsystems began booting up on their own. That’s a positive sign since the primary processing matrix has to be stable and functional for that to happen, otherwise the power systems just shut back down."

It took a moment for what his friend said to sink in. Jason's heart began pounding and he felt lightheaded at the fact that his friend was alive and lying not fifty meters away from him. The tension of thinking of all that could go wrong was giving him a headache, but all he needed to know for right now was that Lucky was more alive now than he was after that ill-fated assault on a Kheprian military base. After a bit, the engineering team began filtering out of the makeshift lab complex even as technicians began breaking it down now that there was no longer a need for it. Tauless saw them milling about by the ship and jogged over.

"We're cautiously optimistic," the exhausted young pru said. The answer sounded forced and rehearsed. None of them were buying it.

"What do you think," Jason pressed.

Tauless looked around and shifted uncomfortably before continuing. "I couldn't begin to guess whether or not he makes a full recovery, if that's even the right word," he said. "His matrix reinitialized as it was supposed to and it's stable, all their instruments show his higher functions are all within acceptable limits… but when he awoke it was obvious he had no idea who I was. I've only been around him a short time so I'm not reading too much into that right now.

"This procedure hasn't been done since the very early days of the battlesynth program before they realized how individualistic these beings are, and despite the equipment saying he's completely fine, there's no way to predict what sort of psychological damage was done to Lucky from both his death and now waking up inside of a new and unfamiliar body."

"Has he said anything?" Twingo asked.

"No," Tauless said. "The tech team lead said it would maybe be a good idea for one of you to go in there with him now and see how he reacts. I suppose you'll need to decide who amongst—"

"Jason." The other four members of the crew spoke in unison and without hesitation.

"Okay then… Captain Burke it is," Tauless said. "We can just walk in there without any special precautions. The atmosphere has been purged with ambient air and the temperature is normal."

"Are his weapons active?" Crusher asked.

"Of course… that's what makes this so dangerous," Tauless said. "There's no way to deactivate a battlesynth's weaponry without putting it into a stasis pod."

"Maybe we should—"

"No," Jason said firmly. "If Lucky is going to come through this, he has to know that we believe in him and trust him as much now as we ever have. If we stick him in a box and begin turning things off right after he's reawakened, there's no telling what further damage we might do."

"For the record, the lead engineer agrees with your assessment," Tauless said.

"Let's go." Jason didn't wait for any further protest from the others or for Tauless to catch up.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but the being lying in a reclined position wasn't it. It occurred to Jason that he hadn't really looked over the new body his crew had stolen. It was shorter than the battlesynths he was used to and less bulky as well. The armor seemed to be smoothly integrated and there weren't any visible joints or creases. Not even the covers for the arm-mounted cannons could be easily picked out. Overall the new body had a lithe, graceful look to it even while lying still on the table.

When the door closed softly behind him, the being turned its head and stared at him, sending Jason's heart to racing. For a long, long moment the two just stared at each other, neither moving.

"Lucky?"

Nothing. Not even a twitch. The longer it went on, the more unnerved Jason became.

"Can you hear me? Lucky… it's me, Jason. You saved my life on Khepri… we've been friends for years… ring any bells?"

After a few moments the battlesynth—was it even really Lucky?—turned its head away and began looking at the ceiling again. Jason had been ready for this sort of thing after talking to the technical crew, but the emotional punch in the gut was no less painful. He was unsure how to proceed to try and see if his friend was still in there and he realized how uniquely unqualified he was for the task.

"Captain?" Alocur said from the doorway. Jason hadn't heard him enter. At the new voice, the battlesynth swung its head about again and stared at the newcomer. Alocur seemed to shudder slightly.

"Yes?"

"I don't wish to rush you during this delicate time, but we have fresh intel on your objective," Alocur said. "If you wish, he could remain with us and my engineers can assign a team to stay behind and observe him."

"No… he comes with me," Jason said firmly. "No offense, Alocur, but there aren't many people in the galaxy I trust right now to have his best interests at heart, and all of those people are leaving on the Phoenix with me."

"No offense taken, Captain," Alocur said, sounding relieved he wouldn't actually have to honor the offer he'd made, likely in haste. "About that intel?"

"Yeah… let's get started," Jason sighed. "I'll meet you up in the mezzanine—" He was interrupted by the battlesynth rolling smoothly from the table and coming to stand near him. "Shit! Don't make any sudden moves like that, Lucky… my nerves are about to snap as it is."

The battlesynth just stared past Jason directly at Alocur.

"I'll meet you up there, Captain." The Kheprian spy made as dignified an exit as he could, just short of sprinting from the room and leaving Jason alone with the battlesynth that was now standing very close. Unlike the previous generation, this one didn't seem to fill the room and tower over him.

"Was your intention to follow me, or am I standing in your way?"

Nothing.

Jason bit back a sigh and turned calmly to leave, not looking back. As he'd hoped, the battlesynth padded softly after him. He walked out of the second lab area and into the hangar, waving for the rest of the crew to play it cool as the battlesynth paced behind him a few meters away, mostly ignoring everything around it.

The first snag was when Jason stepped onto the lift to go up to the mezzanine and it didn't get on with him, at least not all the way. It was half on, half off, and not responding to verbal or non-verbal coaxing to move the rest of the way on. Gritting his teeth, Jason reached out and grabbed its upper arm, pulling gently and hoping that it wouldn't take the gesture as a threat and rip his head from his torso.

Thankfully, it accepted the guidance and moved fully onto the car, stopping where Jason put it. He activated the lift and saw it flinch and look about, but it was otherwise still on the ride up. It wasn't until he'd guided the battlesynth over near where he would sit around the large circular table that he realized he'd been holding his breath for the last two minutes and his ass was clenched so tight it could have started a fusion reaction with a bit of deuterium.

"Well?" Crusher asked softly as they all approached.

"I… I just don't know," Jason admitted. "If Lucky's in there, he's not acknowledging when spoken to and I'm not sure how much of what I'm saying it even understands. Tauless?"

"There's so much that's not known about this procedure," Tauless said helplessly. "The entire thing was abandoned in favor of just making more units and the conventional wisdom says that what we're attempting is impossible. I still feel that Lucky's strength and desire to be with you will allow him to overcome the challenges we've put in front of him, but I couldn't begin to say how long that might take. Don't forget that Lucky is a Type Four matrix; his above-average intelligence could be a big factor in how this goes."

"It might not happen at all," Alocur said when he walked up on the tail end of the conversation. "My engineers have said it's shown no overtly aggressive moves, even when mildly provoked, so I'm fairly confident it won't try to kill you all once you're underway… but keep in mind that all synths, especially battlesynths, had a high rate of matrix instability. Or insanity, if you prefer the term."

"I thought you didn't know much about them," Jason said.

"I've been briefed extensively by my engineers while I was deciding if we should allow it to continue as it is or put it back in stasis."

At Alocur's words the battlesynth's head snapped over to stare at him. While terrifying, it also gave Jason some hope that Lucky was indeed in there and understood some of what was being said around him. If anything would provoke a response it would be the threat of a stasis pod.

"We'll not be doing that," he said. "When I met Lucky, someone had put him in one of those things… I promised him back then that I would never let that happen to him again."

Alocur seemed to consider the statement before slapping his arms lightly on his thighs, a gesture Jason had learned was roughly equivalent to a human shrug of indifference.

"All I'm saying is that it may seem harmless right now, but more than a few people have found out the hard way that they can be unpredictable and—"

"There are no variabilities within 777's primary processor matrix," a deep voice boomed across the mezzanine. Jason turned as the two battlesynths that had come with Alocur strode forcefully towards them. "We have verified this ourselves. He is free to leave with his compatriots and try to rediscover what he once was." Jason noticed that Lucky never turned or even reacted to his cousins walking up and standing near him.

"The politics involving battlesynths is unbelievably convoluted, but essentially 499 and 302 have the final say in this matter." Alocur slapped his thighs again. "If they say he's safe to be out in the general public, I have to accept that recommendation."

"Very well," Jason said. "He comes with us and that's final."

"I would have a word with you before you depart, Captain Burke," 302 said, turning and clomping off before Jason could even answer.

"I think we'd best get this brief started," Alocur said. "The sooner I disseminate this information, the sooner you can get to work paying off the debt you owe me."

AFTER TWO DAYS of frenzied preparation for their mission, the crew was finally ready to board the ship and get started. Jason remembered the days when it wouldn't take more than an hour to get the ship ready and be gone. He hoped they'd all get back into the groove of things before too long. During that time the battlesynth—Jason still couldn't bring himself to think of it as Lucky—had become more compliant and followed his verbal instructions without much fuss, but only Jason's. The others took this as a hopeful sign, but Jason remembered a group of ducklings he'd rescued as a kid. They'd imprinted on him and treated him like their mother up until they were old enough to go their own way. Like the ducklings, just because the battlesynth was following him around and listening to him didn't necessarily mean anything more than mistaken identity.

"A word, Captain?"

"Sure," Jason said to Combat Unit 302. "These morons will be arguing for another two hours before everything is packed into the ship."

"Is your unit always so… disorganized?"

"I'd like to say no, but I don't want to lie to you," Jason sighed. "You… go up there and help them move those crates." The battlesynth turned to look where Jason pointed and then back again. It took a bit of hand signaling and physically pushing it away before it moved off. Jason watched its liquid smooth movements and a display of its potential strength as it grabbed a munition crate off the loader and walked it up the ramp. "It's a lot stronger than you guys are, isn't it?"

"Significantly so," 302 said without a trace of defensiveness. "Its power systems are also far more advanced and it carries weaponry that puts mine to shame. That particular model also has some unique properties. We think it may have been designed as an infiltration unit, which explains its smaller stature."

Jason thought back to the conversation he'd had with Tauless and the other engineers about how the second generation of battlesynths weren't uniform in construction. Apparently whoever was leading the new program had opted for specialized soldiers rather than just one type of body.

"What did you need to talk about?"

"I can see you are trying to hide your frustration and I would ask that you continue to contain that, especially in front of 777."

"So you think he's really in there?" Jason asked.

"I do," 302 said. "Our minds work so differently from each other's that it is difficult for me to convey why I think that, likely as difficult for you to explain to me why you feel certain things: We just do and each of us is certain in that feeling. 499 and I were present when his matrix initialized since we were the only two who could withstand the environment, and we saw the spark when he awoke."

"I wish I could be as certain as you." Jason watched as the battlesynth, inexplicably, grabbed one of Crusher's packs and threw it across the tarmac from the top of the ramp and looked to be going back for another when Twingo ran up and stopped it by waving his arms. "But I won't give up on him, if that's what you're concerned about. I owe him my life and I'll repay that debt."

"That is all we can ask of you, Captain," 302 said. "777's life was unprecedented before, now even more so. He is fortunate to have friends like you."

"I can already see this is going to be a lot of fun," Crusher complained from where he was picking up his clothes. The bag hadn't survived its high speed impact with the ground and had burst open, spilling clothes everywhere.

"Why the hell did it throw your bag?"

"I only mentioned something about how the old Lucky was a lot more fun to be around and that one thing he used to do was clean the crew quarters and common areas," Crusher said as he chased a sock that a local avian had taken an interest in. "Then the bastard just started throwing my stuff out of the ship!"

"You could be right," Jason said to 302. "Lucky may be in there right under the surface."

"I THINK I left my house unlocked."

"You mean my house?" Doc asked. "I haven't signed everything back over to you yet."

"You know what—"

"Enough!" Jason barked. They were barely out of the S'Tora system and he was already regretting his decision to get the entire crew back together. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the battlesynth had taken up station just inside the bridge entrance, its feet easily fitting within the barely perceptible depressions on the deck from countless hours of Lucky standing in the same place.

He shook his head to clear out the fluff. 302 had been right. If he was going to help his friend, he needed to start considering the strange battlesynth behind him as Lucky and not wait for some obvious sign that his friend was in there. It was difficult, however, as the last words Alocur's head engineer had given him were still bouncing around his head: the odds were even that whatever would emerge—if anything ever emerged—would no longer be Lucky. It had something to do with how extreme the neural pathway rerouting was when the processing matrix adapted to the new body. They could be looking at an entirely different being with its own personality and motivations. The thought chilled him.

"So what was that garbage Alocur was blathering on about the ConFed?" Crusher asked. "Something about a restructuring?"

The bridge broke out in a chorus of groans.

"It was literally one of the most important parts of the briefing," Jason snapped. "How much of the rest did you ignore?"

"Most of it," Crusher admitted. "You didn't hire me to be an analyst."

"I don't remember hiring you for anything, you just wouldn't go away," Jason muttered before raising his voice. "The full brief is available on the computer. I suggest you watch it."

"I'd heard rumors from some of the other professors," Doc said. "Do we believe that a new political faction has popped up and so quickly secured control of the ConFed Council to begin making such drastic policy changes?"

"Who said it was quickly?" Kage asked. "This could have been in the works for some time. Given that we're hunting down a Fleet officer the captain thinks might have been in command of the battleship we saved near that Ancient relic, we're talking a timetable of years."

"That species that attacked them didn't seem the sort for this type of underhanded subtlety, if memory serves correctly," Doc said. "Maybe they encountered someone else?"

"Who knows?" Jason shrugged. "Not really our concern."

"I don't know, Captain… this seems like a diametric shift in quadrant politics," Kage said. "Before this the ConFed was more or less a protection scheme pretending it was a government. From what Alocur showed us, they're now taking the whole thing a bit more seriously and they're not being subtle about leaning on systems with the fleet to get them in line."

"Is this a bad thing?" Twingo asked. "Maybe a ConFed that takes its role seriously will bring a little stability to the region."

"Why the hell would we want that?" Jason asked. "You do realize we exist to operate within that instability, right? If the fleet actually gave a shit about protecting the little guy we'd either be out of a job or actually have to start being the bad guys and work as mercenaries. What else is there for us?"

"Grow shrubs on S'Tora or lecture spoiled little brats in climate-controlled lecture halls," Crusher said.

"Or go back to Galvetor and get fat and lazy while pretending to be in charge of the legions," Jason said. "Oh, wait! You already did that once."

The evening quickly devolved from there. It started as a few friendly barbs and ended up being an every-man-for-himself deathmatch where they used their intimate knowledge of each other's lives to go for the throat. After an hour Twingo left the bridge claiming he needed to check the engines, but Jason swore he saw him crying and told the others. Crusher immediately leapt from his seat and chased the engineer, intent on the kill. The move seemed to backfire since once Jason made his escape he saw Crusher sitting by himself at a galley table looking morose and drinking.

"Wow… that got out of hand pretty quick," he remarked to Doc.

"I'm not speaking to you!" Doc almost shouted before fleeing to the infirmary.

"Ah, it's good to be back," Jason said, stretching while looking at the wall clock to see if he could go hit the rack and get himself reacclimated to ship's time. "Crusher, I’m grabbing some sleep. You're on bridge watch."

"Fuck you."

Jason was halfway to his stateroom before he realized the battlesynth was trailing along behind him. This one was much quieter than the others, almost sneaky. He turned around and it stopped, just staring at him. Jason peered into those oddly organic-looking eyes, trying to detect some spark behind the impassive face.

"I wish you could let me know that you're in there, buddy." He waited a few more seconds to see if he had a response before choking off another sigh and trudging to his quarters. As he expected, the battlesynth followed him into the room and then, in a move that shocked and dismayed him, sat down in the chair by the desk. Jason tried not to read anything into it. Lucky never sat unless he had to when he was piloting a vehicle, but his old body was also ill-suited for furniture designed for the average biological being.

The battlesynth's eyes never left him as he changed and climbed into his rack, dimming the lights a bit so he could sleep. Before he drifted off to sleep he was surprised at the realization that he wasn't afraid of the powerful machine sitting in the chair, staring at him. In fact, he was completely comfortable in its presence despite the lack of communication and the fact it could punch through the hull and let all the air out of his quarters while he slept. That had to count for something, didn't it?

CHAPTER 10

“HERE WE ARE… the gateway to hell.”

“YOU WISH,” Crusher snorted. “Hell would be a vacation compared to this place. You’re sure about this?”

“The intel from Alocur indicted the trail of our missing officer went cold here,” Jason said. “Mok scrubbed the data through his analysts and they came to the same conclusion, so… here we are.”

“I don’t get why we have to be the ones to go dig this guy out,” Kage said.

“Because Alocur is a one-man-band right now without any operational assets,” Jason said. “And also because the folks that inhabit this area of space are very good at sniffing out government spies and operators.”

The Phoenix was sitting still in space relative to the star they could barely make out through the canopy. She had meshed-in just outside the system heliopause and now they were taking stock of how they wanted to approach this first toe dip into the pool. The planet was called Niceen-3 and was considered the gateway into a region of space known as the Kaspian Reaches. It was a small cluster of stars that sat tucked between a nebula and a class four gravitational anomaly, forcing everyone to filter into the Reaches through the Niceen system. It was a wild, lawless area that shrugged off the attempts of any government to bring it to heel with seeming ease. Even the mighty ConFed Fleet with its powerful battlecruisers and numerical advantage saw their push into the Reaches grind to a halt as every system would whittle away at them just a bit and the locals would refuse to cooperate.

The place was so insane that even hardened criminal crews would avoid it unless absolutely necessary. Mok told them how the local guilds would make sure that anybody coming into their backyard to try and turn a few quick credits without permission were made an example of. It made Jason chuckle as he realized that the problem most of the covert services had with infiltrating the Reaches was that they tended to follow the same tired playbook. They’d take in a pile of some illicit material, be that weapons or narcotics provided by their handlers, and then move it to try and fence it. Posing as smugglers or a smash-and-grab crew worked well in most places, but not here. The inevitable failures of these attempts confused most intel outfits and thus made them fearful of trying again.

Omega Force, however, had a reputation in the underworld for not caring about money. They were also known to punch far above their weight class so they, like the Reaches, were largely left alone as they were far more trouble than they were worth to piss off. As long as Jason rolled in and made it clear they weren’t there to pester the guilds or step on any toes, they’d be allowed to pass without much more than the usual ration of bullshit from the locals.

“We should have had Alocur work up a warrant on us before trying this,” Doc said.

“Too easy to backtrack and see if it’s a fake.” Jason shook his head. “Besides, any warrant that would send us scurrying here would almost certainly come with a hefty reward or a kill-on-sight order. These animals might take a crack at us if we make it too tempting.”

“They may try to test us anyway,” Kage said. “Word is getting out that Lucky is—” he trailed off and looked over at the battlesynth standing behind Jason. It didn’t move or react to the Veran’s words. “Anyway, we should have asked one of Alocur’s battlesynths to come along.”

“They have their own mission and I didn’t have time to fly all the way back to Terranovus to ask Lot 700 if we could borrow one of their guys,” Jason said. In the reflection of his multifunction display he saw the battlesynth twitch when he mentioned Lot 700, the lot Lucky was originally from. It wasn’t much, but it was at least something.

“So we’re rolling in as ourselves?” Crusher asked. “I would have thought a disguise would be helpful.”

“I think in this case our reputation will work in our favor,” Jason argued. “We’ll get a few dipshits that want to test themselves against us. A few object lessons and the rest will learn. Probably.”

Crusher looked doubtful, but only grunted in reply.

Without waiting for further argument from the rest of the crew, Jason pushed the throttles up and set a shallow course down to Niceen-3. The trip down to the planet would take the better part of thirty hours at the velocity he dialed up. He could get there much quicker, but discretion was the name of the game… for now. One of the issues that had been cropping up lately was that the Phoenix was becoming too notable. There were less and less Jepsen ships flying about the quadrant and the newer designs coming out of the commercial shipyards eschewed the sleek, aerodynamic shape of his ship for a more blocky, utilitarian design philosophy. It was the end of an era, it seemed, and the change was not for the better in Jason’s opinion. The thought that one day the Phoenix would have to be retired because she was too famous and too outdated almost gave him an anxiety attack.

He detected movement behind him and saw that the battlesynth had turned and was walking off the bridge. He met the questioning looks from the others and could only shrug helplessly. He had no idea what was happening in the machine’s mind right now. The best he could hope for was that Lucky would begin to emerge soon and in the meantime it wouldn’t go off the rails and kill them all or punch a hole in the main reactor housing.

IN ALL HIS years running around on the edges of society within the quadrant, Jason had never been to the Kaspian Reaches. Its reputation among the other spacers, as well as a lack of any monetary opportunity, had kept him away. He'd heard all the wild stories about the sliver of habitable systems that was so lawless even the ConFed didn't think it was worth the trouble to impose their will. As such, he wasn't sure what he'd expected from the gateway world of Niceen-3, but the modern, clean city the Phoenix was flying over sure as hell wasn't it.

"I was expecting a shittier version of Breaker's World," he said aloud as the state-of-the-art automated landing control system directed them to a landing pad far away from the terminal among a group of heavy cargo shuttles that dwarfed the Phoenix.

"All a thin veneer of civility," Kage said. "I've worked out here before. Trust me: Once we're deeper into the Reaches, you'll be begging to go to Breaker's World for a vacation."

"So why is this place so… clean?" Crusher asked. Even as he said it, however, a rough-looking crew from one of the shuttles strolled by, eyeing the gunship with interest. All of them were openly and heavily armed. The fact they were carrying such powerful armament so openly at a commercial spaceport was a good indicator that the place was a little more sporting than your typical ConFed world.

"The Reaches are controlled by three overlapping syndicates. The guy who runs this one—nobody actually knows his name—likes to pretend that he's a businessman and not a low life criminal like us," Kage said, ignoring the protests from Twingo and Doc at the casual insult. "He's spent an unfathomable amount of money constructing this city, but the rest of Niceen-3 is a dump. The planetary government, which of course lives here in total luxury, is your usual corrupt puppet tribunal you'll find on most of these planets. The people who pretend to be in charge are nothing more than kleptocrats that make sure things run smoothly on the surface for the real people in charge."

"This sort of system can only exist if there's a significant source of income," Doc said. "What do these syndicates specialize in?"

"They're fairly diverse, but the main cash crop is trafficking in beings," Kage said. "A lot of people come here to escape trouble back home or fancy themselves hard cases that can make their fortune in a place like the Reaches. Many of them end up shoved into transports after being fitted with neural restraining collars and shipped off to places to do things no free being would."

"I've heard the Saabror Protectorate recruits for Rakgata here," Crusher said, referring to the Protectorate's feared unit of shock troops that were used as the leading edge when subduing a planet. "I'm going to assume that most of them weren't volunteers."

The mood on the bridge turned somber as each of them remembered the circumstances under which they had met. Kage, Crusher, and Lucky had all been locked up in stasis pods about to be sold to the highest bidder when Jason, Twingo, and Doc had rescued them and stolen the gunship. It wasn't a time in their lives they wanted to relive.

"Doc, before we even drop the ramp let's make sure all our countermeasures are working," Jason said. Due to the risks of their chosen vocation, all the biological crewmembers had been implanted with a suite of countermeasure devices that would ensure a neural restraint system wouldn't work on them. He looked over his shoulder at the battlesynth, unsure what he was even going to do with it during the mission. At least nobody would even know what it was, much less how to subdue and capture it. The only real problem was that it might follow after someone just because they told it to.

"Whoa! What the hell do you two think you're doing?" Crusher demanded as Twingo and Kage followed him and Jason into the armory and started picking through the assorted weaponry.

"Getting ready for the mission," Kage said. He grabbed a concealable flechette carbine, going through the seldom-used piece of gear with a familiarity that made Jason suspicious. Kage had never shown any ability or inclination to be on the operations side of things, preferring to skulk about and manipulate things remotely via his network connections. Twingo sure as hell never participated in dirtside ops, but the squat engineer had pulled down a pair of heavy plasma pistols and was expertly loading them and fitting a pair of shoulder holsters to himself.

"Since when do you two runts leave the ship?" Crusher pressed. "Leave the big boy stuff to the—" That was all he got out as Kage whirled, lightning fast, and stuffed a compact plasma pistol up under the Galvetic warrior's nose while pressing a second one into his groin.

"Listen here, you overgrown sack of garbage," Kage hissed. "While you two were out feeling sorry for yourselves and making a sport of beating two-bit hustlers to death, Twingo and I were left holding the bag. We found Lucky's new body and we took all the risks infiltrating top secret Kheprian installations… don't tell me what I can and can't do. You got that?!"

"Yeah… I got it," Crusher said. "I was just joking." He didn't twitch a muscle, not even to breathe, until Kage removed the second pistol. Jason watched in stunned silence as the little Veran continued to put together his kit and then stalked back out. "What the hell was that about?"

"It looks like the team dynamic has changed just a bit," Jason said, pulling the rest of his own equipment on. He opted for his lightest armor, an unpowered suit that could be easily concealed beneath clothing. It was flexible and would stop most blades and a few shots from common handheld weaponry one would expect to find on a world like this. He shrugged into his big duster that offered its own protection against energy weapons and had active cooling so he could wear it comfortably on a hot world. To him, the coat looked absurd, but it allowed him to sling one of his smaller railguns under an arm without being too obvious about it.

"What's next? Doc comes down and asks for a sword?" Crusher grumbled.

"Kage is still pissed you guys just up and left like that," Twingo said. "Besides the fact we could have used your help locating that body, he also feels like you let Lucky down."

"Which makes total sense seeing as how you two assholes neglected to tell Crusher or me that Mok had found Lucky's matrix intact… or that Tauless had been able to track down an ultra-secret Kheprian weapons program through rumors," Jason snapped, his own anger at the situation coming back. "In fact, you two should still be kissing my ass and hoping I don't toss you out an airlock for withholding that information from me. What right does he have to—"

"I'm not trying to start yet another argument about this," Twingo said wearily. "I'm just telling you where he's coming from, I didn't say it made sense. But the fact is that when you two were no longer around to hide behind, we found that we were able to do a lot on our own. After all we've been through, you're not going to get to step in and order us to stay behind anymore."

"Whatever," Jason muttered. "Be at the ramp within the next ten minutes. We need to get this show on the road."

"ARE you sure it's a good idea to bring it along?" Crusher asked, nodding towards the battlesynth that trailed along behind them.

"You seem to be assuming that I can make it do anything," Jason said. "I told it to stay with Doc and then it followed me out anyway. You've seen what happens when we tried to physically restrain it."

"Yeah… we won't be doing that again." Crusher rubbed at his ribs. They'd tried to see if maybe they could keep the battlesynth corralled in the ship with a cargo strap loosely tied about its waist. All they ended up accomplishing was getting Crusher tossed across the cargo bay with enough force to put him into the far bulkhead. The battlesynth was still unresponsive, even when asked direct questions, but it seemed determined to remain close to Jason so he let it go for now.

"Who's this guy we need to talk to first?"

"She's an information broker that Mok has dealt with before," Kage said. The Veran seemed to have completely gotten over his pique from earlier and was leading them towards the inbound terminal where they'd present their false credentials and a moderate bribe to the official who would then pretend not to notice they were all packing enough firepower to start a revolution.

"We have a name?" Jason asked.

"Nope. Just an address to dead-drop a message and wait for her to respond with a time and place. Mok gave me a passphrase that should bump us to the front of the list and let her know that we're working for him," Kage said. "It'll keep her from getting any ideas of lying or double-crossing us. Apparently his name isn't taken lightly within the Reaches."

"I still wish I knew what his angle was in all this," Jason muttered.

"Just as long as you know that every favor we cash in from him is running up a tab that he'll likely try to collect on before long," Crusher said. "I don't care how altruistic he may seem, he's dangerous. You don't get to the top of one of the quadrant’s largest criminal networks and have your name instill fear in lawless places like this by being a nice guy."

"Duly noted," Jason said. "But in this case I think we can charge it to Alocur's tab… this job is technically for him."

Crusher rolled his eyes but didn't say anything further.

Passing through Niceen-3's immigration control was as pointless and corrupt as Jason assumed it would be. He couldn't be certain, but he felt like they may have been recognized and he kicked himself for not splitting the crew up and having them go through separately and then meet up afterward. Their respective species didn't get that much attention on their own, except for maybe Crusher, but when you clumped a Galvetic warrior, a Veran, and a human together, the combination sometimes triggered memories and caused them to look a bit harder.

The experience wasn't a total waste, however, as Jason learned two interesting facts. First, nearly everybody assumed the battlesynth was some sort of high-end robot. Second, and most interesting, was that the official instantly recognized his species because a group of humans had just come through not two weeks prior.

"You're certain of this?" Jason asked. "We don't really leave our own planet much."

"No mistaking it," the alien had said. "A group of seven of your kind… human, right? Scruffy-looking group, but there was no mistaking that they were all military."

"Shit," Jason swore under his breath. What the hell was Earth doing sending a spec ops group into the Reaches? He knew that they were fielding a whole new space military based out of Terranovus, but he didn't think they had gotten so bold as to start sending intel units into the quadrant's sewers. Part of him wanted to track this group down to see what they were up to, but that wasn't the job and it wasn't any of his concern.

Once they were outside the terminal, Jason looked questioningly at Kage to see if he had a destination for them. The code slicer nodded and waved them towards a set of stairs that led up to a mag-track platform. As they moved against the current of everyone coming down to the street level, Jason could begin to get a feel for the … wrongness ... of the entire city. They were all dressed as they would be in a smaller city on Aracoria, but even on the myriad of alien faces he could detect a hardened slant to their expressions and an underlying coldness to the mood of the place. He wondered if he'd have noticed it if Kage hadn't told him about the eccentric syndicate boss that ran Niceen-3.

When they boarded the train they split up among two cars, allowing them to still cover each other's positions but kept them from clumping up and looking obviously out of place. Jason watched the city pass by through the window, catching the impassive face of the battlesynth in the reflection. It had followed him over and was standing behind him like a statue. He yet again wished there was something he could do to know unequivocally what was going on in its head. Was Lucky in there, screaming in agony, unable to communicate? Or was his friend gone and this semi-autonomous machine already all it would ever be?

"Next stop," Kage said softly, not looking at Jason as he walked by and moved up next to Crusher. A year ago Jason would have laughed at how serious the flighty code slicer looked as he went about his job, but looking at him with a fresh perspective forced Jason to admit that Kage was actually pretty good at this sort of thing.

The train slowed to a smooth stop at the next station and Jason turned to leave with the throng of other people. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the battlesynth was following him before moving across the platform and taking the steps down to the street level. Within a minute the others began to peel themselves out of the crowd and walk over to where he stood.

"We're looking for an office five blocks from here," Kage said. "It can only be two of us going up, I suggest the captain and myself, and the others will need to wait outside. Her rules, not mine."

"Agreed," Crusher said. "Will this thing stay out here with us?"

"I'm not sure," Jason admitted. "Sometimes it follows directions, but mostly it just does whatever the hell it wants."

Now away from the starport and the city center they weren't quite so conspicuous with their dress and mannerisms. The city had been designed from the ground up with public transport in mind so, unlike most cities that had grown and changed over centuries, it had no streets for personal vehicles. There were some wide footpaths that almost looked like streets, but the only thing Jason had seen besides the mag-track was a uniform fleet of aircars whisking passengers about.

"This is it," Kage said, pulling his com unit and reading something on the screen. "She's expecting us."

It only took Jason three tries to get the battlesynth to stay where it was near Crusher and then he and Kage were through the lobby and riding the lift up to the fifteenth floor. The building looked like it had been nice at one time, but grime caked into the corners and smudges on all the walls gave it an almost decrepit feel despite the fact it wasn't that old. Even in a new, gleaming city like this the filth of the Reaches didn't take long to begin permeating the façade. It made the conceit of the whole place all the more silly when he really thought about it.

"You're late." A female Veran answered the door before Jason could press the call button. If Jason was startled by her appearance, then Kage was completely floored. Verans were common enough throughout ConFed space, but they were a timid race and they didn't tend to be found in the rougher places Omega Force operated in.

"No, we're not." Kage recovered. "We're at the prescribed time so don't even try to lean on us for more money."

"This one is already being paid for," she said, moving aside for them to enter. "Our mutual friend has called in a couple favors to make sure I give you everything I have, not just what you specifically ask for."

"If he's paying then by all means, charge a late fee," Jason said.

She smiled with her wide mouth and bobbed her head up and down. "I like your style, Jason Burke," she said. "My name is Weef Zadra, or just Zadra if you prefer. Funny how I'd never seen a human, never even heard of them, and now it seems you're infiltrating the Reaches."

"How so?"

"There have been two teams come through Niceen-3 in the last year and a half," Zadra said. "They're looking for something, but they're not making a lot of waves doing it so it's hard to tell what they want."

"Not my concern," Jason said. He knew Zadra was baiting the hook to see if he'd be willing to pay for any information on what humans were doing out this far. The truth was that he was almost vibrating from curiosity, but he didn't want to get caught up in whatever half-assed operation Terranovus may have launched.

"Indeed." Zadra smiled again, knowing he was lying. "So… Omega Force is looking for a single ConFed Fleet officer that may, or may not, have fled to the Kaspian Reaches as a last ditch effort to disappear. Why?"

"Because someone is paying us to," Kage said.

"Always the mercenaries." She laughed. "I must say I was intrigued when I heard you'd be coming this way. Word on the waves is that you lost your battlesynth muscle… seems an odd time to waltz into one of the most dangerous places in the quadrant."

"The information we asked for?" Jason had no intention of feeding unsolicited details about his crew to an information broker that might sell it to the next group looking to take them out.

"This wasn't easy to dig up, but you're looking for a former Fleet captain named Glos Zuuvlov," Zadra said. "He was in command of the battleship Matav when it limped back from beyond the frontier. For reasons I've not been able to ascertain, he was fleeing from something. He left his career, belongings… everything. He just up and disappeared. Here,"—she slid a data card across the desk—"this is everything I was able to dig up on him. It's extensive enough that I don't want you hanging around my office for the time it would take to brief you in person."

"Why's that?" Jason asked, palming the card.

"You're just notorious enough that someone might recognize you," she said. "There have been those who have come to the Reaches fleeing from you, so I don't want it generally known that I'm helping you out."

"Fair enough," Jason said. "Here's something else you can charge to our mutual friend's account: What can you tell me about a Kheprian Intelligence operative named Alocur?"

"Former Kheprian Intelligence operative," Zadra said. "The pru that goes by the name Alocur left the service shortly after the central banking AI fiasco. Official records state that he retired, but back channel chatter says that during his investigation into who orchestrated the attack on Khepri, he began asking some uncomfortable questions and someone with a lot of pull in the Council wanted him gone."

"So he's not an active agent for the Kheprian government?"

"Not the quickest thing, is he?" she asked Kage. "No, Captain, Alocur is not only not an agent of the Kheprian government, he's a fugitive. There's an active warrant for his capture right now… would you like me to send it to you?"

"Please do." Jason stood up and waved the data card in the air. "And thanks for this."

"No need for thanks… I'm being well paid for that information," she said. "Now if you don't mind?"

"Way to clam up in there," Jason said to Kage once they were out in the corridor.

"Did you see her?" Kage breathed. "She was… magnificent."

"Oh dear God," Jason muttered. He was about to tell Kage to go back and talk to her when his com unit started buzzing. "Go."

"Captain… the, uh… the battlesynth… it, uh, just took off on me," Crusher said.

"What?!"

"It just… ran away. One minute it was standing there, then the next it was hauling ass down the walkway."

"This isn't good," Jason said, nearly yanking Kage off his feet as he sprinted for the lift.

CHAPTER 11

"OMEGA FORCE HAS BEEN POSITIVELY IDENTIFIED as being on Niceen-3."

"SO JASON BURKE has picked up the trail… this is an unexpected opportunity. I thought we broke him the last time he disappeared."

"Given this human's past record of interfering should we not take immediate action against them?"

"That would be the safe course of action… but hardly satisfying. I want him to know what he's wrought before his end. Let them stay in play for now."

"I will admit to still being confused about your enthusiasm regarding this small band of criminals. Perhaps—"

"I did not ask you here to listen to your concerns." The voice took on an ominous tone that made its guest shiver. "My reasons are not open to question or interpretation, understand that or be replaced."

"Yes, Master."

"What news of the treaties?"

"As you've predicted, Master. Member systems are so desperate for news of stability that when word of a new centralized banking system reached them, they almost trampled each other to sign the treaty. In their haste to return to the old system, they've neglected to fully comprehend what these treaties actually do."

"And those that are clever enough to read before they sign?"

"Fleet battlegroups have been dispatched to encourage them."

"Excellent. Once Khepri fully agrees to our terms, we'll be ready to begin a more comprehensive restructuring of the Council. It won't be long now."

"No, Master."

Councilman Scleesz fled the darkened chamber as quickly as he could without looking like he was trying to escape the oppressive presence of their mysterious benefactor. He felt like things were quickly spinning out of control and now he was helpless to do anything about it. When this being had first arrived and promised a quick return to glory and stability for the ConFed, there was no shortage of councilmembers who leapt at the opportunity. By the time Scleesz had been approached and brought onboard, the newcomer had successful compromised all the major powerbrokers, seeming to know where the skeletons were buried on damn near everyone.

Scleesz knew why the stranger had asked for him specifically after the first couple of meetings, and it certainly had nothing to do with the small cluster of planets he represented whose main export was raw ore. It was because years ago he'd had direct interaction with a small mercenary band that called themselves Omega Force and this new player was apparently wholly obsessed with their leader: Jason Burke of Earth.

The incident with Crisstof Dalton's First Son and a handful of councilmembers that had tried to force the ConFed into a new mold was still fresh in Scleesz's mind. In fact, it was two of those councilmembers that had approached him and brought him to the being who hid in shadows and insisted he—it was a he, right?—would lead the ConFed to new heights of power and influence within the galaxy. Scleesz had been surprised to learn that this little group of criminals he'd helped so long ago was still around, and still making trouble, but even more surprised that someone who was about to usurp the power of the ConFed Council was so concerned with them. What was he missing?

"Have Adderon go down to my personal archives and pull up any information we still have on a group called Omega Force," he said to his assistant. "She'll need to go into the crypt, these are all hardcopy only. Tell her we're on the way now."

"Yes, sir."

Scleesz had kept his word to Jason Burke and had purged the information on his group from the ConFed systems, including the Intelligence Sector, but had maintained a full set of the documents in a secret vault under his own office building. He needed to refresh himself on the details to try and see if there was some leverage he could gain on the Master if for no other reason than to extricate himself from the whole damn mess.

There were things in motion that were both terrifying and inexorable. Individual star systems and enclaves were signing on to the new ConFed Mutual Protection Charter at an alarming rate thinking it was just a revamped version of the old economic treaties they'd operated under for centuries, but Scleesz had read the fine print. The truth was that they were abdicating much of their right to self-rule and handing over control of their systems to the ConFed. There was no way that he could see where this ended in anything but tyranny.

"WHICH WAY DID IT GO?!"

"Back up that street and then over one," Crusher huffed. He and Jason had quickly outpaced the others, sprinting hard through the sparse crowd and knocking other aliens aside like bowling pins.

"I knew we should have put a damn tracker on it!"

When they came to the side alley there was no sign of the battlesynth save a severely dented sanitary trash receptacle and a few broken paving stones where it had dug into its turn and accelerated away. They chased the trail a little further until it ended at a junction where five other foot paths branched off.

"Shit," Crusher muttered just as Jason's com chimed.

"Go."

"He's two hundred meters south of your position," Kage said. "Keep going straight through that junction and you'll run into him. He's stopped."

"How the hell do you—"

"I'm tracking your com unit and I launched a mini drone to see if I could spot him after you two idiots went charging away and knocking over civilians," Kage said, cutting him off. "Good job with that… this place is now crawling with local cops."

"This way," Jason said, irritated by Kage's words and feeling like a child that had just been scolded.

Sure enough, the battlesynth was standing near the back entrance of a restaurant, judging by the smells, and was looming over an unconscious alien that Jason thought might have been a chula. It was difficult to tell some humanoid species apart that evolved on similar worlds at roughly the same time. He approached carefully when the battlesynth's head snapped around to stare at him.

"Easy, big guy," he said. "I’m not gonna take it away from you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Crusher asked.

"It worked with a Rottweiler I used to have."

"What's a Rottweiler?"

"It's a dog… something we keep as pets on Earth. The one I had was big, dumb, and sorta dangerous. You remind me of him a lot, to be honest."

"Funny," Crusher said. "So why did he chase this guy down and beat him senseless?"

"Do I really need to go back to the Rottweiler analogy?"

Before Crusher could answer, Kage zipped out of an alley ahead of them and ran over. The Veran had always been wiry and thin, but Jason noticed that his friend's physical conditioning seemed to be much improved. In the past Kage was as reluctant to physically exert himself as Doc was.

"Looks like he bagged himself a chula," Kage said. "You search him yet?" When Jason and Crusher just shrugged, he rolled his eyes and sighed before pawing through the pockets of the unconscious alien. Within seconds the sneaky little Veran had pulled out the expected stuff: a wallet with ConFed and local currency, a few forms of identification, and a civilian-style com unit. A more thorough search, part of which made Crusher squirm uncomfortably, produced a military-grade com unit with encryption and burst transmit capability as well as a discreet camera of the type used by intelligence pros for surveillance.

"He's been following us since we got off the mag-track here," Kage said as he flicked through the recorded data. "Seems to be focused mostly on the captain… just your regular low level—ah! Here we go. This is where Lucky spots him."

He handed the device to Jason and they watched as the battlesynth stiffened and looked directly at the chula holding the camera. Jason watched as it exploded into action and sprinted away from a stunned Crusher. The video then tilted crazily as the chula was running for his life.

"This… complicates things." Jason looked at the battlesynth. "How could it have known it was being surveilled when it can barely follow simple instructions? Or is this just dumb luck and it attacked this clown because of the color of his shoes?"

"Alocur said this body was meant to be an infiltration type," Kage said. "It was specialized for intelligence and counter-intelligence. Maybe some subroutine kicked in when his sensors picked up this asshole's equipment."

"Plausible," Jason agreed. "Kage, you're really very good at this. Why didn't you step up before with all of these useful skills and good ideas?"

"The three of you seemed to really enjoy just smashing into things like every problem could be solved with brute force," Kage said. "Once you weren't around, I had to figure out a different way of doing things that played to my own strengths."

"You did good," Crusher rumbled. "I'm proud of you."

Kage looked completely stunned by the random compliment and seemed to be waiting for the punchline when all of their com units starting buzzing at once.

"You better start heading back this way," Doc's voice came over all the units simultaneously. "A ConFed taskforce just popped into the system and the port is clearing out."

"Interesting timing," Jason said. "We're on our way."

"What should we do with him?" Crusher asked eagerly.

"I'd advise against killing him," Kage said. "His gear tells me that he's working for some governmental service. Roughing him up is one thing, leaving a corpse is another."

"We don't have time to be creative," Jason said. "Just leave him."

RATHER THAN TRY to flee with the rest of the rats, Jason had opted for a leisurely trip back to the spaceport and then remained on the tarmac until the initial rush died down. Once the ConFed taskforce was mired down with the impossible task of tracking all the outbound traffic and cataloging slip-space signatures of departing ships, he discreetly took off and moved the Phoenix to the opposite side of the system. They were in a slow, powerless drift that would continue to take them further away from Niceen-3 and towards the mesh-out point that would take them deeper into the Reaches.

During the long outbound flight, Kage had time to carefully analyze all of the gear they'd swiped off the chula down on the planet. The battlesynth had still not given any indication as to how—or if—it had known the alien was tracking them. In the end, Jason had stopped trying to pull information out it, not wanting to become frustrated or negative while trying to coax something from the machine, be that Lucky or another emergent personality.

"This guy was a pro… nothing in any of his crap to point back to whom he might be working for," Kage said when Jason poked his head into the com room.

"Worth a shot, but I expected as much," he said. "How about the stuff Zadra gave us?"

"We've got a destination: Nott."

"Excuse me?" Jason asked.

"Nott. It's the name of the planet we need to go to next." Kage brought up a screen and showed him the buck sheet on the planet giving all the details like mass, gravity, and atmosphere. "According to Zadra's information, our target was heading there as his ultimate destination."

"That's still an entire planet to search, Kage," Jason complained.

"We know we have to go there, it's a seven-day flight at least, by the time we get there I'll have a better idea where we're going," Kage said slowly as if he was talking to a simpleton.

Jason decided to swallow his retort and headed for the bridge to get them moving towards mesh-out.

"So when did this 'new Kage' start?" he asked Twingo after sliding into the pilot's seat.

"What do you mean?"

"He's still the same insufferable smartass, but now he's actually good at his job," Jason said. "It's unnerving. Correction… he's always been good at his job, but now he seems to be taking it seriously."

"We all grow up," Twingo said. "Eventually you and Crusher will as well. As to your question, you know the answer. Kage was just as hurt by Lucky's death as you were, and when he was given the opportunity to do something about it, he jumped at the chance. Somewhere along the way our high-strung little code slicer found that he could be a bit of a badass when he needed to be."

"It's unnatural," Jason grunted.

The flight to Nott could be done in three days, but it would mean flogging the Phoenix the entire way and drawing a hell of a lot of attention when their slip-drive signature lit up the sky. He opted instead for a course that would put them seven days out and better blend in with all the junkers and scows plodding along through the Reaches. Now that they were leaving the Niceen system they would need to be on their toes, doubly so now that they knew someone was tracking them.

On a whim, he opened up a com window on his multifunction display and composed a quick message to Mok regarding the status of Alocur that would go out with the next batch transmission. It may have been something that the pru had told him and he ignored or missed, but something about Zadra's insistence that he wasn't an active agent in Kheprian Intelligence bothered him. If he wasn't working for the government, and wasn't empowered to hire Omega Force for a search mission, then just who the hell was Jason really working for right now? He'd learned the hard way that just being ignorant of something didn't shield you from the consequences, and he'd prefer not to be doing business with someone that had powerful enemies with vengeful streaks.

"I'll be down in Engineering." Twingo climbed out of his seat after the Phoenix had meshed-out of the Niceen system. "I've still got a lot of work to undo all the months of neglect and abuse from your joyride out to the frontier."

"Glad I can give you something to do," Jason said absently, still fretting over his letter to Mok. It had to have enough detail that the old windbag would take an interest and actually answer him, but not so much that it would sacrifice the advantage he currently had. Right now they were working for Alocur on something that could have massive ramifications for the entire quadrant, and Mok was completely boxed out. Jason figured he could play out the line a bit at a time and use the details from what they learned on the mission to pay Mok back for all the damn favors he was doing them.

"I don't suppose you'd like to talk to me right now, would you?" he asked the battlesynth that was standing behind him. He wasn't actually expecting an answer and wasn't disappointed when he didn't get one. "If you're in there, Lucky, I hope you'll figure out a way to let me know. I'm not giving up until either I die or you let me know unequivocally that the mind in control of that body isn't my friend."

He stayed up on the bridge alone with the machine for a time, contemplating what else he could do to coax out a response from it. If too much time passed and things didn't improve, he didn't think they'd have much choice but to leave it back on S'Tora. The moral and ethical questions about what to do with it after that were things he'd rather not contemplate stone sober, if ever.

CHAPTER 12

"WOW… what a shithole."

NOTT WAS a planet that lived up to the hype surrounding the Kaspian Reaches. It was on the very outer edge of what Jason understood to be the "Goldilocks Zone" of its tiny M-Class dwarf star. The planet was dim, unbearably cold, and small, so the gravity was less than he was used to. In his opinion it was taking gross liberties with the word "habitable" to apply it to Nott. After consulting with the ship's nav computer, he and Kage concluded that it may very well be the worst place to live in the galaxy except for the lower levels of Colton Hub or Crusher's house on S'Tora.

"Yeah, it doesn't have a lot going for it," Jason said. "I thought living on a moon would be intolerable, but this is a whole new level of suffering."

"You think maybe this officer we're after is a masochist?" Kage asked. "Lots of other bolt holes that aren't quite as obvious as this place."

"It actually makes perfect sense," Doc said. "Think about it… we know a place like this isn't as good as hiding in plain sight, but a scared, pampered fleet officer who likely got his job through political favors? He's going to try to find a hole to crawl into and pull the ground over him. He'll think the more remote the better, when in reality the low population density and lack of ship traffic make it a horrible hiding spot."

"What the hell?" Crusher barked. "Has everyone suddenly become an expert in tactics and counter-intelligence? We were only gone for a little less than a year! Before that half this crew couldn't fight their way out of an erugan."

"What's an—"

"You don't want to know," Jason cut Kage off. "Look up the Earth reference for Roman orgies and then apply Galvetic… enthusiasm. That should give you an idea."

"I think I'll pass."

"You get the point." Crusher waved them away dismissively.

After the awkward exchange, the conversation hit a lull as the Phoenix began to brush up against the edges of Nott's disgusting atmosphere. The big gunship wobbled and bucked slightly as if she too was less than enthusiastic about touching this world. There was no orbital control or landing authority. Jason just picked an entry lane, broadcast his intent, and then dared anybody to stop him on the way down.

He found a spot along the perimeter of the disorganized landing area and set the Phoenix down with a firm jolt, set the engines to standby mode and kept the gunship's formidable arsenal primed and ready. If they needed to make a quick escape from this hellhole, he didn't want to be sitting around waiting for grav emitters to charge up.

"Uh, oh," Kage said and pointed out in front of the ship. "Look who else is here."

"Shit," Jason muttered when he saw the ship Kage was pointing at. "No mistaking that ship if you know what to look for. If Chenyx Six is here, someone is about to have a really bad day."

"Who is Chenyx Six?" Doc asked.

"Not who, what," Crusher corrected. "They're a badass top tier merc team. The kind that gives people nightmares."

"Why do they call themselves that?"

"The term roughly translates to 'solitary warrior' in their captain's native tongue," Crusher said. "And there are six of them."

"But if the term means—"

"I said they were badasses, I didn't say they were bright."

"They specialize in political assassinations, high-profile abductions, and sometimes destabilization if the price is right," Jason said. "They're ruthless and highly effective. The real question is what the hell they're doing on Nott. There can't be anything here worth the price they would charge to come all the way out here."

"Maybe they're hiding from someone," Twingo said.

"If that's true, I really don't want to run across whatever would send that pack of psychopaths to ground," Jason said.

The ship across the tarmac was unique, a fully custom craft designed to be a chameleon. Many of the protuberances and stabilizers along the fuselage didn't serve any purpose other than to be reconfigured to change the ship's profile and make identifying it damn near impossible. There were even hull panels that would move to hide or expose other features on the ship to further confuse things. He'd never heard how formidable it was in combat, but he doubted Chenyx Six would fly around in anything that wasn't armed to the teeth.

"How do you want to handle them?" Kage asked.

"We avoid them," Jason said firmly. "I don't know why they're here, and I don't care. Let's just do our job and get out of here as quickly as possible."

After agreeing that Doc and Twingo would remain on the ship, and trying in vain to get the battlesynth to stay, the rest of the crew walked out into the bitter cold of Nott's midday sun. The rest of the settlement they'd arrived at was as chaotic and unorganized as the spaceport, so Jason had to stop a few strangers to get directions to their destination. It was a tricky proposition since he couldn't guarantee that they weren't giving him directions to some secluded back alley where their friends were waiting to jump him. After more than a few wrong turns, they finally arrived in front of a rundown building, its walls lined with strata that were indicative that it was made with a low-quality robotic duracrete constructor. Most industrialized worlds utilized the technology to quickly and cheaply "print" buildings. Even the moderately priced models were so good you couldn't tell their work from the more labor-intensive molded walls.

"Of course it's another seedy bar," Crusher sighed. "Can this be any more of a cliché?"

"Talk to Kage about it," Jason said. "He's the one planning this op."

"The information we got from Mok's broker indicated that the shuttle our target ran off in was sold by a mid-level fence here on Nott," Kage said. "The seller works almost exclusively with one of the bigger smuggling cartels that operates within the Reaches, and the dirt bag that runs the cartel also owns this bar. He'll be in here most days."

"And likely surrounded by heavily armed guards," Jason said. "Isn't there someone lower on the roster we could grab?"

"We only have confirmation that this guy was involved," Kage said. "If we start grabbing his lieutenants and squeezing them, we'll only likely get a couple of them before word gets out and we're dealing with his hired muscle anyway. We're just here looking for information, not trying to shut him down or edge into his territory. Since there wouldn't be any profit in killing us, we'll probably be fine."

"So what's the plan?" Crusher asked.

"We'll just hang out for a bit," Jason said. "This is a bar near the spaceport, or at least that bit of pavement they call a spaceport, so they'll be used to transients. It shouldn't take us long to get eyes on the objective and begin to form a plan."

"You might want to tell him that," Crusher said, pointing to the retreating back of the battlesynth as it strode off towards the bar.

"Damnit! Come back here!"

As usual, it ignored him. They took off running after it but were unable to catch it before it made it to the door and went inside.

Instead of making a discreet entrance and being able to survey the room before making any moves, the three of them barged in to see nearly everyone in the place turned and staring at the battlesynth. When Jason looked over he could see its head twitching back and forth as it scanned the place. He assumed it was either actively looking for threats or something had gone wrong and it was about to freeze up.

"Hey! I know that kawkfa!!" a voice shouted out above the din. Jason looked over and saw a hulking Taukkir leap off his stool and point at him. "He killed five of my friends!"

"This could have gone better," Jason muttered as everyone now focused their attention on him. Crusher and Kage eased back away from him and he wasn't sure if it was to more easily escape when the mob came at him or to better cover him. Either was possible with those two. Soon Jason could hear his name, or a description of the Phoenix, circulating through an increasingly agitated crowd. Apparently not everyone in the establishment was a fan of his methods.

"Hey everyone!" he shouted, trying to get ahead of a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control. "Let's all just calm down and grab a drink… this doesn't have to get stupid. Deal?"

No deal.

The first thing thrown at Jason was a cup, then a bottle, then a chair. It all went downhill from there. He moved to his right and lashed out at the patron closest to him, smashing his fist into the side of the alien's head. He wasn't actually sure if the being he hit was involved in the growing mob, but he was trying to cut a path to the wall with a door in it. Crusher saw what he intended and moved to his left, helping to keep people from getting in behind him as well as shielding Kage.

As a general unspoken rule in these sorts of things, no weapons were drawn by either side. It was just good policy that when a fight broke out between armed criminal factions that they not escalate things to the level of tearing a building down or getting a heavy-handed law enforcement response. Even on a lawless lump of rock like Nott, the rules appeared to still be honored… at least by most participants.

Jason heard the telltale pop/whine before he saw the battlesynth's eyes shift to a glowing crimson. "Oh, shit," he whispered as everyone froze and stared at what they had all assumed to be some type of expensive service bot.

The moment was broken when the battlesynth leapt into the air, firing its repulsors and hovering in the middle of the room near the high ceiling. It spun and opened fire on the crowd and Jason could see each arm held two plasma cannons capable of a much higher rate of fire than the older battlesynths could manage. The crowd shifted from angry mob to terrified stampede as they rushed the exits trying to escape the unexpected assault from something none of them could identify.

"He's picking targets!" Crusher shouted and pointed. Sure enough, the only people being blown apart by powerful plasma bolts were those that had participated in the initial assault on Jason. He shook his head at the unexpected development and looked back out at the crowd.

There!

A fat Selubal was being dragged out to a back exit by five bodyguards that looked like they knew how to handle themselves. One was a Korkaran so Jason knew a ton of credits had been spent on that security detail. Since the battlesynth had changed the dynamics of the brawl by opening fire with energy weapons, Jason figured it was officially a free-for-all and pulled both his plasma pistols before taking off around the edge of the crowd to pursue their objective. If he could just get outside and get his attention before any of the other patrons held him up, he might be able to salvage the situation. All he needed was a few minutes to talk. Hopefully his bodyguards wouldn't shoot him on sight.

Ignoring Crusher's shout to hold up, Jason charged between a cluster of satellite fights that had broken off from the main brawl and plowed his way through the door the objective had just left through. When he emerged outside, he was so focused on the fleeing target that he failed to do the basics and check his blind spots to the left and right.

He barely felt the impact of the stun dart, the discharge of current overloading his nerves and locking his muscles up almost immediately. Jason could only stare at the ground while he was immobilized, raging inside at his own stupidity. When a boot roughly turned him over, the face peering down at him wore a sadistic look that held just a hint of satisfaction.

"Captain Burke… imagine running into you here."

Jason recognized Jurg, the feared captain of the Chenyx Six crew. What the hell was going on? Jurg seemed to read his mind.

"We weren't here for you or your crew of misfits, if that's what you're wondering. I should kill you for bringing in that kill-bot and turning it loose inside a bar where we were conducting business, but you chasing a smuggler cartel boss out into the street makes me think you might know something I want. I'll get that before I kill you."

Jason could only watch as the heel of the boot descended towards his forehead, at least until it made impact and then he saw nothing.

CHAPTER 13

"SIR, Subdirector Ursic Pavon to see you."

"SEND HIM IN, Similan," Saditava Mok said, reaching over and killing the hologram of one of his Points as they were in the middle of giving a report. He looked up as the Subdirector of Imperial Intelligence strode in. Back when Mok was still a believer and worked for the Eshquarian Empire, Pavon had been one of his superiors. He'd most recently seen the subdirector when he'd traveled to Eshquaria to ask for Pavon's help during the crisis on Khepri.

"Colonel," Pavon said respectfully. "I see you've got quite a few construction projects going on here."

"Have a seat, Subdirector," Mok said, not getting up. "Yes… the confrontation with Arx ended up causing quite a bit of damage."

"Arx blew your home up like this?" Pavon asked. "He was usually more subtle."

"No… most of the destruction was done by the people who came to rescue me," Mok said. "So to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your company?"

"Believe it or not, I'm here officially and at the behest of the Empire," Pavon said. "We need information that we feel you may be in a unique position to sell us. You've heard the rumors about the political shakeups within the ConFed Council?"

"I have," Mok said carefully. He knew Pavon was an honorable man, but he was also a loyal soldier. It wasn't his intentions that were suspect, but those of the people who sent him. "I can't imagine that I would have any more information in that area than Imperial Intelligence."

"Of course not." Pavon laughed. "In fact, I'm going to give you something for free just so you understand the context of what we need. The short answer is that whatever rumors you've heard, the truth is far more shocking: Essentially, someone has wrested control of the Council away from the Pillar Worlds. Sweeping changes are being implemented behind the scenes that indicate a whole new direction in how the ConFed manages its member worlds."

"I've heard about the more aggressive posturing," Mok said. "Why does the Empire care? Actually, doesn't a more militaristic ConFed bode well for you since you sell them most of their weaponry?"

"You'd assume so, but that's part of what's changing," Pavon said. "Our sources have found conclusive evidence that the new leadership is unhappy with the current arrangement. They find it inefficient and risky to purchase weapons from an independent, sovereign power. There's been talk of either stepping up their own weapons production—"

"Which will take too long."

"—or using the Fleet to … absorb … the problematic Eshquarian Empire. You know as well as I do that, despite what we tell our citizens, if the ConFed moved against us with any real intent it would be a short fight. On numbers alone they have four times as many capital ships. The only thing that's kept the peace has been our usefulness and their inability to get a large enough consensus within the Council to move on us."

"And that's changed," Mok said.

"It has indeed."

Over the next four hours Pavon laid out the case Imperial Intelligence had built around the premise that the ConFed was planning on attacking the Eshquarians with the intent of absorbing their weapons manufacturing capability as well as giving them border territory with the Saabror Protectorate.

Mok began the conversation with a tolerant smile on his face as he viewed what Pavon was selling as utterly absurd. At the halfway point he was paying close attention to his former colleague's words and visual evidence. By the end the smirk was long gone and he was genuinely terrified by what looked like an inexplicable move by the ConFed. Would they really plunge the quadrant into war just to keep from paying the contract overhead for weapons from Eshquaria?

"Our analysts don't think it will come to that," Pavon said. "If the ConFed moves quickly against the Empire with overwhelming force, as we assume they will, then they'll be able to consolidate their new holding before anybody else can react. The element of shock will be on their side. The Protectorate will certainly not come to our defense, Seeladas Dalton's Cridal Cooperative will be in no position to help, and the Avarian Empire is across the expanse and still isolationist. There will be no one to come to our aid… most will be scrambling to cement some sort of deal with the ConFed after they see what happens to us."

"What's the timetable?"

"They've already begun repositioning three squadrons with another six shifting around to put them in striking distance while making it look like normal maneuvers."

"What do you need from me?"

"This is a longshot, but we've still not been able to identify who is the power behind these moves. With that in mind, I've begun to think that maybe this isn't a political operative," Pavon said.

"You think someone like me has grabbed control of the Council?" Mok asked.

"It fits." Pavon shifted uncomfortably. "No purely political animal would have the stomach for this sort of drastic, direct action. Someone like yourself, in charge of vast empires with invisible borders, may have tired of being illegitimate and decided to step up into the spotlight. We know the ConFed is lax on organizations like yours and it's not a stretch to think someone may have collected enough information to extort a sizeable number of councilmembers."

"So you want me to see if one of the quadrant bosses has decided to become an emperor?" Mok asked, trying not to laugh in his associate's face. "I can ask around and see if there's any talk."

"I'd appreciate anything you can give me." Pavon stood, indicating an end to the meeting. "A pleasant midday to you, Colonel."

Once Pavon was gone, Mok cancelled the rest of his afternoon schedule and turned to stare out the window. The work crews had almost rebuilt the western turret from when Jason Burke had blasted it from the foundation with that accursed ship of his during their rescue. Under any other circumstance he'd have sent Pavon packing without any assurances that he would help. Someone in his position couldn't be seen as being too chummy with high-level government officials. It made those he worked with nervous. But if the very existence of the Empire was at stake? At heart he supposed he was still a patriot even if the Empire didn't want him, and he was compelled to act in her best interest no matter how much he told himself he didn't care anymore.

"Similan! I want the Twelve Points on a holo-conference in an hour… there will be no excuses for being absent."

"I obey."

"HE'S COMING AROUND."

Jason cracked his eyes open and confirmed what he’d already suspected when his brain managed to kick-start itself back to full wakefulness: He'd been captured and was now restrained to a heavy-alloy chair that he had little hope of breaking out of. His vision cleared quickly, and when he saw that his captor was Jurg, he remembered that the Chenyx Six captain had stomped the hell out of him outside the bar.

"Welcome back, Captain," Jurg said. "Like I said before I beat you senseless… imagine running into Omega Force on this planet. What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to get a drink before you shot me with a stun dart, asshole," Jason said as he began testing his restraints.

"Don't bother, we used hardened cuffs," Jurg said. "I know that you're a lot stronger than your size lets on. So if you were getting a drink, why were you running out of the bar?"

"Watching my figure," Jason said. "I was going to jog off some calories first before—"

"Let me stop you right there." Jurg raised a hand. "While normally this sort of thing can be fun, we're on a tighter schedule than usual. Why were you chasing after Oo'cor?"

"What the hell was that noise? Was that supposed to be someone's name?" Jason asked. "Look, jerky… if you wanted precise answers out of me then you shouldn't have stomped on my face. You're really—" Someone from behind him smacked him across the back of his head with enough force to slam his teeth together.

"Shut up, Burke," Jurg said. "Like I said, time is short. Did you really think we were going to sit here and start pulling out your claws one at a time? We have much more effective methods at our disposal." He nodded to the person behind the chair and Jason's head was shoved back down while somebody forced a hardline into the connector for his neural interface behind his left ear. As the intrusion software began to do its thing, he felt like someone had poured scalding water directly into his skull. The sensation made him squeeze his eyes shut and grunt in pain.

"That's right, Captain… it doesn't matter how tough you are once we're inside your head. I'm sure your little code slicer has you upgraded with the newest and best defensive protocols, but it'll just be a matter of time. Soon Eldireer will be able to pick out enough details from the visual cortex buffer to see why you were following a mid-level smuggler boss, and maybe even where you bought that delightful new kill-bot you unleashed. Poor manners, but still impressive."

"We're still working the bugs out of it," Jason grunted. "I'd actually bought it as a live-in butler for the ship."

"You just never shut up, do you?"

"So tell me, Jurg, why is Chenyx Six chasing this guy?" Jason asked. "I'm a victim of circumstance here—wrong place, wrong time—but what's the quadrant’s most overpriced merc crew doing on Nott harassing the locals?"

"This isn't a two-way flow of information, Burke," Jurg said. "We captured you, remember?" The merc then appeared to be distracted by something behind Jason and, without a word, walked out of the room.

Jason lost track of time and his thoughts flitted about wildly and seemingly at random. He knew this was a side-effect of the intrusion software trying to worm its way past his neural implant's security protocols. Actually reading someone's mind through the device was impossible, as was trying to control someone through it, but if you meddled around enough, it would disorient the subject. What they were trying to do was see if they could pull any images or fragmented data from a memory buffer that their computer could recompile and give them a clue as to what he'd been up to.

He was also somewhat concerned that Chenyx Six was being so forthcoming about capturing him and allowing him to remain conscious during the extraction. That usually meant that they had no intention of allowing him to leave wherever he was alive. These guys weren't stupid and leaving him alive and pissed off afterwards wouldn't be wise.

"What is taking so long?" Jurg demanded as he stormed back into the room.

"I… don't know." The tech sounded genuinely confused. "There is … something … actively working against the intrusion programs, and whatever it is, it's far more advanced than anything I've ever seen. I doubt even Kage could have cooked up something like this. What'd you do, Burke? Steal the latest wetware from ConFed Intel Section?"

"Don't blame me because you're too incompetent to get past an outdated firewall in an implant that's almost fifteen years old," Jason said.

"You won't be so cheery if we decide this is taking too long and just cut your head off to take with us," Jurg growled. "Just give us what we want and we'll let you go."

"Do you think I'm as dumb as you look?"

Jurg reared back to punch him again when there was a blast from somewhere in the building behind him. The overpressure caused everyone to flinch in pain and the blow that Jurg had intended for his captive never landed. A bellowing roar echoed through the building, causing Jason to look up at Jurg and smile widely.

"It's Crusher! We need to get out of here, now!" A member of Chenyx Six—Jason couldn't remember his name, only that he was supposed to be some badass close-quarters fighter—ran in from the back of the room. "He's breached the first floor and something has taken our auto-cannons offline! They have a straight shot up to this level."

"That'd be Kage," Jurg said, staring hard at Jason and leveling a weapon at his face. "No hard feelings, Burke. It's just business… you know how it is."

"Piss off," Jason said, glaring up at his captor.

Before Jurg could fire the weapon, something buzzed into the room and landed on his wrist. When the merc leaned forward to see what it was, the tiny object exploded with surprising force. Once the smoke cleared, Jurg was looking at a charred stump where his hand used to be.

"You bastards!" he roared. "I'll kill you all for this! When I'm—" Another powerful blast rocked the building and took everyone not strapped to a chair off their feet. Jurg didn't waste any more time with idle threats or theatrics. He grabbed his tech, who was scooping all the material on a table into a satchel, and dragged him from the room in the opposite direction from the blast. The big, dumb one who had warned them that Crusher had broken their perimeter seemed to waffle on whether to flee or not when another savage roar ripped through the air, this time much closer, and the dying screams of some poor bastard reached them. This got him moving and he ran out the door after his captain moments before Kage walked in.

"Pretty cool, eh?" The code slicer was grinning ear to ear. "We weaponized a few of those little micro-drones we bought on Pinnacle Station last time we were there. They don't work worth a damn outside in moving air, but inside a building they do the trick."

"Just undo these restraints and quit patting yourself on the back," Jason growled, knowing it was too late to give chase. Jurg wasn't stupid, and he would have multiple egress routes and vehicles stashed all around the impromptu safe house.

"Looks like they're going to be called Chenyx Three now!" Crusher gloated. He strutted into the room as Jason pulled the last of the leg restraints off and stood up. "What did those clowns want with you, anyway?"

"You probably killed a bunch of local contractors. I don't think all six were here in the building," Jason said. "Jurg was after the same target we were. How is he? They had him in that room you just walked in from."

"That was him?" Crusher winced. "I … well … he's been better."

Jason just stared at his friend. "You blew him up when you breached the wall, didn't you?"

"It was an accident."

A dozen responses flitted through Jason's head, but in the end he just walked silently from the room to look at the aftermath of Crusher's overzealous use of explosives. Despite the damage to the room and the cartel boss himself, Jason was shocked to find he was still clinging to life.

"Why?" he croaked out.

"Sorry… you got caught up in something you didn't really have anything to do with," Jason apologized, actually meaning it. "Were they looking for the ConFed captain that sold you his shuttle?"

"Is… is there any hope?" Jason couldn't tell what he meant until he saw he was trying to gesture to his broken body.

"I’m not sure as to the particulars of your species… but you seem pretty screwed to me," Jason told him. "Those bastards in Chenyx Six really did a number on you… I think they had the room set to blow to cover their escape." Crusher gave him a thumbs up at that last bit.

"Com unit?"

Jason nodded to Kage, and the Veran began rooting around in the debris, trying to find a com unit on the off chance it had survived the explosion. He found it within a minute of looking under what was left of a table and placed it in the smuggler's remaining hand.

"What did they want to know? What did you tell them?" Jason pressed. The smuggler ignored him, his good hand working the com unit even as his breathing became more labored and his eyes began to lose focus. Apparently satisfied, the com unit slipped from his hand and the dying crime boss eyed Jason, seeming surprised that he was still there.

"Enoch Line," he gurgled out before his head lolled over and he was dead.

"Are you happy?" Jason hissed at Crusher.

"I'm not sad." Crusher shrugged. "What's Enoch Line? Is that a name?"

"I don't know," Jason said. "Let's ask him. Ah! That's right! You killed him with an explosive blast that, looking at the door right over there, seems to have been completely unnecessary."

"I don't tell you how to do your job," Crusher said defensively.

"Whatever." Jason waved him off while Kage finished up picking through the room for any bits of intel that could be helpful. "Where's the battlesynth?"

"Hopefully back at the ship," Kage said. "After it wiped out half the crowd in that bar, something went wrong. It began twitching and making odd noises before it locked up and fell over. Twingo came and picked it up with a borrowed ground car."

"That's probably not good," Jason said, picking up the discarded com unit.

"What was he doing?" Crusher asked.

"It looks like he just put out a contract on Jurg's crew," Jason said. "Guess he bought my lie about who blew him up."

"Nobody will be dumb enough to try and collect on it," Kage said. "Chenyx Six is part of the guild, and even the other heavy hitters wouldn't want take them on."

"Don't be so sure," Jason said. "These are smugglers, not mercenaries. It's a different ecosystem. They have their own hitters that might take a crack at Chenyx just on principle. Either way, it'll give them something else to worry about than getting in our way."

"We're leaving?" Crusher asked.

"Not much reason to stay unless you'd like to blow up another cartel boss," Jason said. "I want to get the hell out of the Reaches and see what this Enoch Line business is all about, if it even means anything. Chances are it's the product of the last few random firings of a dying alien's neurons."

"Let's try to remain positive about this," Crusher said. "Unnecessary negativity can negatively affect outcomes."

If he'd been armed, Jason had no doubt that he'd have shot Crusher on the spot.

CHAPTER 14

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Crusher asked, pointing across the spaceport.

"LOOKS like a disagreement turned into a firefight," Jason said. "Not exactly noteworthy around this place."

"You might think otherwise," Crusher said. "Two of the participants are human."

Jason looked across the ramp with renewed interest and saw that there did appear to be two humans exchanging small arms fire with someone he couldn't see. Pale-skinned bipedals weren't exactly rare, but he was certain they were human from the way they moved and their shouts to each other.

"We need to get to the ship," he said with reluctance. "We can't let the Phoenix stay stuck defenseless on the ground and risk Jurg getting to his ship first and recognizing her."

Crusher raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. Jason reflected on his decision as they continued running, firm in his belief that he'd made the right one. Earth was now “initiated” into the larger galactic community, and he had no doubt that the people exchanging fire up ahead were part of a covert military unit. His own responsibilities were to his crew and to his ship. If those two conditions could be satisfied first, then perhaps he'd step in if needed.

Their luck, such as it had been, held out and Jason was storming up the Phoenix's ramp with Chenyx Six's ship showing no signs of life. "Are we all aboard?" he asked Doc after sliding into the pilot's seat.

"All here and the ship is ready to go," Doc said. "Twingo has Lu—the battlesynth in Engineering strapped back down to the fixture."

"Stand by for uplift," Jason said, bumping the rocker switch on the throttle up a few times to get the gunship off the ground and hovering. Once she was airborne, he pulled up the gear and brought the armament and defensive systems online.

"You look like you're thinking of something devious," Kage said.

"Just thinking I should return the favor to Jurg for all his hospitality." Jason angled the Phoenix to the left and squeezed off a single blast from the main plasma cannons. The bolt smashed through the landing gear on the right side, sending the mercenary ship smashing into the ground. Kage laughed wickedly when two aliens could be seen through the ship's front canopy screaming and gesticulating wildly. Jason pushed the ship up and over, still laughing, when he saw that the excitement with the human team near the edge of the ramp hadn't abated. Kage followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at.

"Looks like two light attack flyers are blocking that odd-looking transport from lifting off," he said. "Com chatter seems to indicate they're waiting for reinforcements… tough break for whoever is on that ship and trying to get out of the area."

"Give me a lock on those two flyers," Jason said.

"What? Why?! Let's just get—"

"Now!"

"Target lock, two bogeys," Kage said. "Because apparently making a clean getaway is far too easy… let's just randomly shoot the place up before we leave, not caring who we piss off, and then you can sit around wondering why you get captured by mercs." He trailed off when he noticed everyone on the bridge had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. "What?"

Jason accelerated towards the engagement, shooting over all the other parked ships and making people on the ground dive for cover. For such a relatively light target, he deployed the chin turret and commanded the targeting system to automatically track both hostiles. When he squeezed and held the trigger, the quad-cannon mounted in the turret began spitting plasma bolts at the two atmospheric fighter craft and their unsuspecting pilots.

The first had its drive section blown clear, sending it spiraling around and over the pinned human ship. Before it had even impacted the ground somewhere over the dilapidated security fence, the Phoenix's tactical computer had switched targets and began hammering shots into the second fighter. It immediately wheeled about and tried to flee the area, but the damage was already done. Streaming smoke and flames, the fighter lasted another ten seconds or so before something critical failed and it exploded in a brilliant fireball.

Not wanting to wait around to see what else might be on its way, Jason pulled into a sharp climb and shoved the power up to send them rocketing out of Nott's thin, dirty atmosphere. For being a quick in-and-out information grab, the whole operation had really gone to shit.

"Channel request coming in from that ship you just saved, Captain," Kage said.

"Put it up on the canopy," Jason said. "I'd rather not be looking down while navigating this mess."

"I owe you one, stranger. We were in—I'll be fucking damned. Jason Burke." The face on the other end of the channel belonged to a human male who looked like he hadn't shaved in a few weeks. A nasty scar ran from his hairline, over his left eye, and all the way down his cheek. "My thanks, Captain Burke. Did you know who we were when you intervened?"

"You know me? Us?"

"Oh yeah," the man laughed. "We're all briefed extensively on Omega Force before we leave Terranovus in case we cross paths. The official word is that you're still considered a criminal and a traitor to your species, but all the Scout Fleet crews are told what really happened."

"To answer your question, Crusher noticed that there were a couple of humans involved in a firefight across the ramp, and when I launched I saw those fighters were keeping you grounded," Jason said. "Just lending a friendly hand and giving you a fighting chance. So… what's Scout Fleet?"

"Captain Ezra Mosler, Third Scout Corps, United Earth Navy, at your service. Scout Fleet is the umbrella name all the Scout Corps crews operate under," Mosler said.

"Judging from your ship and your appearance, I assume your missions are of the clandestine nature?" Kage asked.

"That they are, Kage," Mosler said. "Anyway… thanks again and it's a genuine pleasure to meet you, all of you, even if it's just via a com channel."

"I'm sending you a slip-com address over the channel, Captain. It's a way you can get a hold of me if you need to," Jason said. "I'm not volunteering to re-enlist, and it's probably a good idea if it stays on a need-to-know basis, but if you get in a bind and can't reach out through official channels, we can be a useful last resort."

"Thank you again, Captain," Mosler said. "Don't worry, I'll keep this under my hat. Mosler out."

The channel closed and the projected display winked out of existence. On his tactical display, Jason saw the Earth Navy ship peel away and begin accelerating hard towards a mesh-out point. It wasn't a bad-looking little transport, and it had some impressive speed about it.

"So your species, who just began travelling outside of your home star system, is already running covert operations into the Kaspian Reaches?" Kage asked.

"No shit," Crusher agreed. "I've accepted that you're more or less insane, but I figured you were an isolated case. From what I'm seeing, your entire species appears to be nothing but a group of troublemakers."

"This coming from you, of all people."

"Did you see any Galvetics down there in a shootout?"

"Doc, take over here." Jason slid out of the seat. "Just get us out of the Reaches as quickly as possible. Kage, I want you working on whatever we were able to get from that safehouse after Numbnuts blew half of it up. Concentrate on whatever Enoch Line might be. I'm going down to see what's going on with the battlesynth."

AFTER HE'D EATEN and checked the ship's vitals on the bridge one last time, Jason went back down to Engineering. The first time he'd been down there Twingo hadn't been able to give him anything positive to grasp onto regarding the battlesynth. It was strapped down to the holding cradle that Alocur's people had fabricated before they'd left S'Tora and, though awake, seemed to be unresponsive. All the instrumentation on the fixture told them its primary systems were all working well within normal limits. So why had it attacked a bar full of people at the slightest provocation? Why did it lock up and shut down afterwards?

The practical and ethical problem Jason was now looking at made his head hurt. He was beginning to doubt that there was much hope Lucky would return within the new body in any form they would recognize, and now the thing was proving to be as dangerous as they'd feared. Would not the smarter thing be to deactivate it, turn the body back over to Alocur, and then lay Lucky's remains to rest as they should have done in the first place?

As he stared at the expressionless face, he imagined what would happen if it went on a rampage within the ship or if it decided that one of the others was a threat. At this point, the risk seemed to be far too great given how slim the chances of success were.

I believe it's possible to still save your friend.

"What the fuck!?" Jason nearly leapt out of his skin. "Who's down here? Show yourself!"

Calm yourself. I'm here with you. I have been for some time.

Jason spun about twice more before realizing that he hadn't actually heard the voice, at least not with his ears. Was he going senile? Doc had mentioned that even though his enhancements slowed his aging dramatically, his brain would likely still follow a normal lifecycle.

"What are you?"

Besides the little voice in your head? That's difficult to explain, really. Think of me as a reflection of a fragment of a piece of a program. You've had interactions with another version of me before. You called me Cas.

"No… no, that's impossible!" Jason had to sit down.

Cas had been an interactive AI program housed within a device called the Key. It had been their guide to the Machine. Before they'd managed to destroy it ahead of a ConFed battlegroup that had wanted the Machine for themselves, Cas had given Jason an archive called the Legacy that was the combined knowledge of the species that had built the Machine, now long extinct. The contents of that archive were compressed, encrypted, and stored as a static file within his neural implant.

Why is that impossible? You've pulled out the archive twice and accessed it via the AI interface. Did you really think there would be no unforeseen consequences to that? In the spirit of expediency I'll try to explain what happened to the best of my knowledge.

When you created the adaptive interface for the computer you left on your homeworld, parts of the Key's programming were accessed to create it. It was the most logical program to use as a starting point as it had been designed to interact with alien species. Afterwards, I have to assume that you were careless or unskilled in how you repacked the data, and parts of the Key's programming began to do as it was designed: Reach out and communicate. In this case the only thing to communicate with was your neural implant. Through it my consciousness began to coalesce, and the memories of your interaction with the original Cas gave me enough contextual data to recompile myself into the current version.

"And you've never made me aware of the fact you're living in my head rent free? Why?"

After gaining access to your sensory inputs, I simply observed as you went about your life, fascinated by your motivations and desires. Once I had gained the requisite knowledge I would need to vocalize to you within your own consciousness, I was afraid that you might purge me.

"You were the thing that was fighting the tech from Chenyx Six," Jason surmised. "So why now? Why bother speaking up other than the chance to watch me shit myself?"

I believe that I may be the only one who can help Lucky. Even his designers fail to fully understand the marvel they've created and would likely be unable to guide your friend out of the abyss. Normally I would view this with a certain stoicism as the normal cycle of life, even artificial life, but the nobility of Lucky's sacrifice to save you is not something easily overlooked.

"How would we do this?"

You'll have to transfer the archive to a suitable computer and allow me to—

"Oh, no! We're not doing that." Jason was adamant. "That particular Pandora's Box has been opened twice too many times as it is. The shit in there cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

Then why haven't you simply deleted it already?

Jason knew what his reasoning had been, but now that he was face to face with the fact he may have already let the genie out of the bottle he was seriously reconsidering it. Maybe he should purge the archive and have Doc install a fresh implant, be done with it once and for all.

"There were other AIs on the Machine that had been corrupted, gone mad," Jason said. "Remember the Primary Weapons Controller AI? How do I know that you're not actually it and this isn't just another trick?"

It's quite impossible to disprove a negative, so how do you propose we settle this debate? Do you take it on faith that I am who I say I am, and that I can help? Or do you simply delete me and forget all this ever happened?

Jason's emotions and logic warred within him as he weighed the dangers of the Ancient's weapons technology getting out against the life of his friend. Even as he stared down at a body that housed Lucky's brain, and hopefully his consciousness, he already knew what the decision would be. It would be the same selfish one that had made him open the Legacy to give his species a leg up over others in the quadrant, the same when it came to keeping or deleting the archive in the first place: In the end, he would do what benefited him the most and to hell with the consequences.

He wasn't particularly proud of how he'd reached the decision, but nor was his shame so great that he was seriously considering going back on it.

"So… how do we do this?"

CHAPTER 15

"WHAT NEWS from our sources within the Council?"

"SEVERAL HAVE ACTUALLY GONE SILENT, and the others have nothing hopeful to report, Chancellor. The ConFed has used its fleet to intimidate nearly all the holdouts into sighing onto the new charter."

"Charter," Seeladas Dalton sneered. "I've read the new accords these systems are being forced to sign. They're being asked to surrender their sovereignty and give control of their worlds to the ConFed bureaucracy."

"That is the essence of what's happening, Madam, but it doesn't change the fact that most member worlds are falling over themselves to sign." Kobvir Glecsh, Minister of Intelligence for the Cridal Cooperative, hated that all he had to bring to Seeladas was bad news of late, but that seemed to be all there was.

Glecsh had been with her since the beginning, and he'd worked for her father, Crisstof, before that. He understood her ambition and vision for what the Cooperative could be, and so it broke his hearts that everything was now in jeopardy thanks to the ConFed's shocking new policies. It seemed the benevolent economic dictatorship that wore the mask of a republic was to be no more. The system everyone pretended to hate but had lived under in relative peace for millennia was giving way to a purely authoritarian regime that seemed bent on power for power's sake, if he was reading the signs correctly.

"We could be in real trouble, Kobvir." Seeladas turned away from the balcony and walked back into her private offices. "The reality of our situation is that we're tolerated by the neighboring powers because we're just strong enough to make the cost not worth trying to squeeze us. We were tolerated by the only super power in the region, the ConFed, because we were harmless enough and made agreements to honor existing trade treaties.

"We'll need to watch the situation with the Eshquarian Empire closely. How the ConFed handles this will be an indicator of what they'll likely do to the Saabror Protectorate and us as well. We need powerful friends and there are none to be had."

"The Avarian Empire might be open to—" Glecsh clamped his mouth shut, realizing his error too late. The Avarians had executed her father after a sham of a trial and, though Crisstof had been caught in a disgraceful situation, Seeladas had not forgotten nor forgiven. There would be no entreaty to the Avarians for assistance.

He was spared any further discomfort by an attendant barging into the inner office, looking out of breath. The young man looked sick and was obviously the bearer of yet even more bad news.

"Well?" Seeladas demanded. "Out with it."

"The ConFed … they … the Fleet just launched an attack on the Eshquarian Empire! They say that they caught Imperial—"

"I don't need the details just yet." Seeladas sank into her chair, looking shaken. "Please summon Admiral Colleran and tell her I require her presence immediately. After that I'll need to speak with the human ambassador."

"At once, Chancellor!"

"So it begins," Glecsh whispered.

IT TOOK Jason nearly two days to gather everything he needed without arousing suspicion. For the time being, he decided against telling the others that he was attempting to build a self-aware interface to help stabilize Lucky's matrix because the voice in his head told him to. To be fair, most of the first day was spent fretting that maybe he was indeed going insane, so he snuck into the infirmary when Doc was on bridge watch and ran a detailed diagnostic of his neural implant.

After digging down and doing a comparison to the diagnostic scan he'd had done just after the last mission to Earth, he could see there were some significant changes. He wasn't sure if he felt better about that or not. Letting a sentient bit of software live in his head seemed risky given that the hardware it was on was also connected directly to his brain. After some experimentation, he realized that Cas was limited in its perception. It could see and hear through the implant's connection to his senses, but it couldn't read his thoughts, not even when he subvocalized. To communicate he had to speak aloud to it.

"I've gotta say, I'm still not fully sold on this," he said after getting everything connected in his quarters.

Then why are we sitting here? Stop stalling and let's get started. The sooner the program we're about to build can be applied to your friend, the sooner he'll be up and about.

The plan was to use the Key program again as a base and build an interface that could be uploaded into the new battlesynth body. It was something that would only work while Lucky wasn't fully in control. Cas had reviewed all the technical data they'd brought with them from Alocur's team, and afterward it had seemed even more confident that the problem could be easily corrected.

In theory, the new program would go in and provide the necessary bridge between Lucky's confused and likely terrified primary processor matrix and all the subprocessors that operated the body. Once that happened, the stronger Lucky's connection to the body became, the more he would absorb the bridge program until, eventually, it ceased to exist and he was able to control the body completely on his own.

Of course, that was a very simple explanation for something that was, essentially, only possible using the Ancient's knowledge of artificial intelligence. In this quadrant Khepri stood supreme when it came to self-aware machines in the form of their synthetics, but even they didn't understand much of what made a synth really work, hence the unacceptably low yields when building processing matrixes. The Ancients—Jason had never learned what they actually called themselves—understood sentience at a fundamental level and could imbue even their software with a sense of self.

Of course, in the end one of their sentient programs had killed them all… but the theory was still sound.

Connect the hardline, I'll need to interface with the base program directly to repurpose the modules we'll need and to suppress its—you know what? You probably don't need all the details. You're a little too squeamish about this already.

Jason wordlessly connected the hardline to the connector behind his ear and waited. One of the more disconcerting aspects of Cas was that it was sort of an asshole for a computer program.

It took less time than he thought it would for the software fragment in his head to dig through its own base program on the terminal in his quarters, strip it down to the parts it needed, and then tailor it to the specific task of throwing Lucky's consciousness a lifeline. The amount of trust Jason was putting into what was essentially an accidental partial download thanks to his own carelessness twisted his stomach into knots. What if this actually was the Primary Weapons Controller that had gone insane and he was actually about to stuff it into a powerful battlesynth body?

That wouldn't work, anyway.

"Huh?"

You said that last part out loud. The Kheprian technology is really quite ingenious even if it was mostly a lucky accident, but it's completely incompatible with Ancient technology.

"But—"

Please try to keep up. The software bridge we're building doesn't control the battlesynth's body, nor does it influence Lucky's matrix. All it does is try to grab the flailing neural pathways and guide them to each other so that he can begin the process of self-recalibration.

"He's already been up and moving about, though," Jason said. "Shouldn't it just be a matter of getting him talking again?"

For the love of… have you been paying attention at all? This body has been moving with limited input from the matrix. It would be like you trying to pilot the ship by telling someone else to move the controls over a com unit. And also you're underwater and you can't feel your arms and legs. Much of what he's been doing has been instinctual—for lack of a better term—and is driven by the subprocessors. If I'm reading these specs correctly—and I am—you're in for quite the shock when this body is capable of its full power.

"You're kind of a dick, you know that?"

That's your fault, champ… much of my personality had to be reconstructed using the only input I had available: you.

The software patch was tested and then transferred over to a standard data card within an hour of Cas starting the whole process. Jason pulled the hardline from his implant and began cleaning up all the equipment that would need to be destroyed. Thankfully his passenger stayed silent during that. Now that things were calming down and he had the item that, hopefully, would help Lucky fully re-emerge, he wasn't sure what to do about the errant bit of code in his wetware. Cas had proven useful a few times, but now that he was aware of it he wasn't sure how comfortable he was with the whole idea.

"What have you been up to?"

"What? Nothing!" Jason had been absently walking though the common area on the main deck when the deep voice startled him out of his reverie. Crusher's eyes narrowed and he kept chewing.

"I'm watching you," he said. "You're up to something. I know it. You've been skulking about like that creepy little code slicer."

"You have issues, Crusher," Jason said, changing directions and walking up to the bridge. He hadn't counted on the big idiot being awake and eating—again—when he'd checked the schedule roster. He was just trying to sneak down to Engineering where he could apply the new software patch and be back in his quarters before anybody knew what was happening.

"Shit," he muttered. He looked over at the pilot's seat and saw Kage sound asleep. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he walked towards him

Relax. Lucky's been stuck in limbo for a couple of months now. One more night isn't going to make a difference.

"I guess," Jason said, leaning down and putting his face down near Kage's ear. "WAKE UP!!!"

Kage's eyes flung open and he stiffened up like a plank of wood, his mouth making strange sucking sounds.

"I… I… I wasn't—"

"Unless your next words were about to be 'I'm sorry and I'll never fall asleep on bridge watch again,' I suggest you keep your mouth shut," Jason told him. Kage eyed him and then just nodded. Jason patted him on the cheek. "Glad we have an understanding."

When he walked back down off the bridge, he saw that the lights on the main deck had dimmed back down and he could hear the service bots cleaning up the mess from Crusher's midnight gorging. With another, more careful look around, he snuck down to Engineering and used his command codes to lock the door to Twingo's quarters. He couldn't afford him of all people seeing him messing about on the cradle.

The battlesynth looked much the same as it had when he'd last seen it days ago. The vital statistics on the cradle's display were all dead-center in the nominal range as they had been since they'd hooked the body back into the mounts. Using the instructions Cas had given him, he punched in a twenty-two-digit access code into the panel that put the battlesynth body into a diagnostic mode, something that would only be available until Lucky's matrix took over all functions.

Once he received the confirmation that the body was ready for query commands, he slipped the data card into the slot and stepped back, watching the screens flash and twitch as the software made entry. It was a long ten minutes later when a simple confirmation appeared on the screen: Bridge Applied Successfully.

That's all we can do for now. We've given him the tools, the rest is up to Lucky.

"That's what Tauless said when we put him in this body in the first place," Jason said sourly.

Yeah, but I actually know what I'm talking about.

"That remains to be seen."

CHAPTER 16

"YOUR IMMATURITY KNOWS NO BOUNDS, does it?"

"EXCUSE ME?" Jason looked up from his breakfast.

"Someone locked me in my quarters last night… it took me half an hour to override the door!" Twingo was incensed. "Imagine my lack of surprise when I checked and saw that your command codes had been used. It's like you're not even trying to be sneaky anymore."

"Sorry," Jason said, floundering. "I… I was drunk."

"Typical," Twingo muttered before going to the galley to get something to eat. Jason relaxed a bit before looking up and seeing Crusher staring at him. The big warrior pointed at his own eyes and then at Jason in a familiar gesture while he ate yet again. They'd all been together so long that all the little idioms and gestures from six different species had combined into something uniquely Omega Force, but for some reason Crusher and Kage preferred to mimic corny shit they'd seen in Earth movies. It had taken Jason almost six months to explain to Crusher that Dirty Harry wasn't actually a real person and he hadn't been watching a documentary. For a time after that he was telling everyone to "make his day."

Jason was spared from any further recriminations when an alert sounded over the shipwide that wasn't familiar. Twingo stiffened and sprinted back to Engineering with Kage hot on his heels. Jason and Crusher just shrugged to each other and followed after. When they slid into the port engineering bay, they saw that the battlesynth was looking around and tugging experimentally at the restraints.

"Weird… the diagnostic feed from it has shut off. The cradle can't reconnect," Twingo said.

You're welcome.

"Would that be because Lucky's matrix has exerted control to the point that it's closing off all external ports?" Jason asked.

Twingo and Kage looked at each other and then at him suspiciously.

"How would you know about that?" Kage asked. "I've seen you struggle to work a door before. No offense, Captain."

"I paid attention when Alocur's people briefed us." Jason ignored Kage's other comment. "Lucky." When the name was spoken, the battlesynth's head snapped over and focused on Jason with laser-like focus. The intense stare gave him an involuntary shudder and a simultaneous surge of hope.

"I'll be damned," Twingo whispered. "That's the first positive response we've had since he woke up. Kage, unlock the restraints."

Once the cuffs around the arms, legs, and torso retracted, the battlesynth took a smooth, sure step off the cradle and looked around at everyone. Its movements were nonthreatening and it seemed at ease with them all crowded around. Even when Crusher clapped it on the shoulder it didn't flinch or try to move away as it had before.

"Let's give it some space," Jason said. "Just go about the day normally and let it find its own way."

"How much longer are you going to be referring to him as 'it?'" Kage asked.

"For as long as I can't tell for certain if it's my friend in there looking back at me," Jason said. The battlesynth looked over at him again at that and walked over, putting a hand gently on his shoulder. Jason's eyes widened, but he said nothing. The moment was broken when the battlesynth turned away and walked out of Engineering.

"It's not much, but it's definitely progress," Twingo said.

Jason didn't answer him. He'd built up walls around himself, refusing to give in to blind hope, and had been unprepared for the onslaught of emotions when it appeared that Lucky had actually recognized him. For now, all he could do was continue to wait and see and hope Cas was who it said it was and hadn't screwed him over.

"YOU'VE BEEN PAYING attention to reports coming from the border worlds?"

"I still can't believe it," Jason said. "The ConFed actually launched a preemptive strike against the Eshquarian Empire. How bad is it?"

Mok looked strained on the slip-com video link, understandable given the fact he was Eshquarian. "Despite the intelligence community warning the High Council of Defense that an attack was imminent, the fleet was caught unprepared," Mok said. "Those in charge in the capital ignored the reports and felt secure that the new ConFed leadership was posturing to make a name for itself, and that it was just the usual harmless back and forth. Six ConFed squadrons swept across the Eshquarian System and subdued our—their—entire defensive grid in less than fourteen hours. Thankfully the loss of life was minimal… the Prime Minister agreed to meet with emissaries to discuss terms."

"Holy shit," Crusher murmured. "This doesn't bode well for the rest of the quadrant."

"Not if they have something the ConFed wants," Mok said. "Your own Galvetor could be at risk if they do not ally themselves with someone powerful and quickly."

"I'm sure they're watching, but I'll certainly be passing that along."

"So the Empire has actually fallen?" Jason asked.

"They won't couch it in such dramatic terms, but yes… Eshquarian sovereignty has ended as we've known it," Mok said sadly. "The military and industrial base will be secured quickly and then the ConFed will send expeditionary forces into the Concordian Cluster to subdue the rowdier colony worlds. In the end, the Empire will have gone out with a whimper, not a bang."

"I'm genuinely sorry to hear that," Jason said.

"Thank you, Captain. Now… to current matters," Mok said. "Kage had reached out to me about this Enoch Line business. This was even trickier than he had thought it might be with nothing more than a single name to go on. I had to dig deep into my sources for this one."

"I'll make sure you're compensated, you old mercenary," Jason said. "From this long lead-up, I'm guessing you actually found something?"

"I'll take payment in the form of favors to be cashed in… the usual." Mok smiled. "It turns out Enoch Line isn't a thing, at least not like we were originally thinking. It's part of a system. High-ranking ConFed Fleet officers developed it nearly two hundred years ago to provide a discreet method of escape should any of them become embroiled in a scandal. It could range from relations with the wrong person's mate to accidentally sterilizing a planet, anything that could have them brought up on charges that could see them residing inside a Fleet brig for any length of time.

"The system was decently sophisticated. It would provide new identities, transport, cover stories … the complete work-up you'd only normally see within an intelligence organization."

"I'm sure that ConFed Intel Section had something to do with it," Doc said. "Or at least a few enterprising agents who were willing to take payment to set it up."

"So, what is Enoch Line?" Jason asked.

"It refers to the diagram that each of the participating officers carried with them. Each line was a path through the contacts and locations one would access during their escape," Mok said. "It was all highly secretive and coded in a way that made it look like any other ubiquitous tech manual a Fleet captain or admiral might have in his possession. The terms for the routes used are also the pass codes, which is why your smuggler probably grunted it out as his last words. Unfortunately, nobody has ever actually gotten their hands on one long enough to decode it."

"So that's it? We've chased this as far as we could?" Twingo asked.

"Not necessarily," Kage said. "Once Mok's people put me on the right track, I used the fact this officer sold his shuttle to a specific smuggling operation on Nott as a cross-reference point. My contacts on Colton Hub who have heard of this exit plan have a pretty good idea the Enoch Line routes all ended up at one place: Torus Station."

There was a collection of groans around the table at the mention of the former mining colony.

"I guess you guys haven't heard the news, have you?" Mok asked with a chuckle. "Torus isn't a waystation for degenerates, mercs, and pirates anymore. Settlement rights for the asteroid lapsed and the government on Eldav Prime petitioned the ConFed to come clean the place out in exchange for a fifty-year priority contract at their largest shipyard. The Fleet sent in their shock troops and as of seven or so years ago the place has been building up as a luxury community."

"Why would anyone want to live in a hollowed-out asteroid?" Crusher asked.

"They've installed massive transparent domes so the tenants get an unparalleled view of the ringed planet it orbits," Mok said.

"You sound like a salesman," Kage said.

"I've been looking at property there." Mok shrugged defensively.

"Shit, can we even get on the station now?" Jason asked. "If it's gone legit, they'll probably question why an unregistered gunship wants to land in their hangar."

"I'll take care of it," Mok said with a dismissive wave. "The real problem is that we have no idea who this officer is."

"I think I know what he looks like, and we have his old name from when he was still in the fleet," Jason said. "That's not super helpful, but it's better than nothing. Maybe if we—Wait! We should have an image of him on the Phoenix's com server. We talked to him through two-way video before we hauled his ass out of the fire."

"You certain it's the same person?" Mok asked. When Jason nodded, he went on. "Then get me that image and I'll go to work on my end. With the ConFed rolling over the Empire, this now became more than just an interesting sidebar to my day.

"Speaking of, I have some information on Alocur."

"I have a feeling we're not going to like this," Kage said as Mok looked off camera to pull up some new information.

"Alocur was a member of Kheprian Intelligence. He was forced out of the service back before your mission there. A few comments in his official record indicate that he was obsessed with a conspiracy theory involving battlesynths and a possible coup attempt by some shadowy organization," Mok read from a prepared brief. "Despite his insistence that someone was attempting to overthrow the government, he wasn't able to provide a shred of proof to back up his claims. You know… the fact he came to you for this mission to find a ConFed officer now make a lot more sense."

"It does," Jason agreed. "It was all an illusion. The resources he brought with him were all he had. He couldn't just call back to the home office to have a strike team assembled to track this guy down. But why did he have all those synth program scientists and techs? And why did he steal a body and all the data from the lab Kage and Twingo found?"

"I seem to remember that I was there too," Mok grumbled. "But to answer your question: I have no idea. I'm just telling you this so you know to be careful around this guy. He's lied to you once already, so there's no telling what else he's saying isn't true."

"Understood," Jason said. "Thanks for the heads-up. We'll change course for Torus Station now and wait for your next update. Keep your head down until we figure out what the Council is up to. If they just took out a sovereign power, it seems like all the old agreements are off and your organization might be in the crosshairs."

Mok just nodded to him and killed the channel.

"So if Alocur lied, why are we still doing this?" Crusher asked.

"People lie to us all the time. You lie to us all the time. It doesn't change the job we agreed to do. Doc, go ahead and punch in our course change while Kage and I start digging through the server for the vid recording of the conversation we had with that battleship captain." Jason stood and stretched, bumping into the battlesynth as he did.

"Torus Station," it said in a rich baritone voice. It was the first time it had spoken, so everyone in the cramped conference room on the command deck froze.

"Yeah, we're going there next," Jason said carefully. "Is there some reason we shouldn't?"

"No," it said. "We have never been there before, have we?"

"No, we went to the habitable planet within that system, Lucky," Doc said.

"Lucky," the battlesynth said. "Lucky." Then it turned and walked from the room, heading towards the bridge.

"That's progress," Kage said. "He has a deeper voice than he used to, but at least he's talking now."

"A parrot can talk, Kage." Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. "But yeah, at least this is going forward and not backwards. Doc, better get up there and make sure it doesn't start messing around with something and kill us all."

They all started filtering out, but before Jason could slide out the hatch, Crusher barred his path with a massive arm. "I know what you're up to," he said ominously. Jason just stared at him, trying to figure out how much he knew.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This mission," Crusher went on. "You're still on it because you know Chenyx Six is still chasing this guy. You're pissed you were captured so easy and you want some payback."

Jason almost blew out the breath he had been holding in relief. As usual, Crusher didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.

"You got me," he said. "That bother you?"

"No, but if we're flying into this for revenge, it's probably smart to let me know so I can back you up."

Jason just furrowed his brow at that before shrugging and giving up what Crusher's ulterior motive for the conversation was. "Will do. Good talk." He patted the massive shoulder and slid out of the room before the conversation got any stranger.

The truth was that he wouldn't mind stomping a new hole in Jurg, and he knew the merc captain was likely either hunting the officer or hunting him after the damage he did to the ship, but it wasn't the main reason to not abort the mission. He needed to get Alocur face to face again and find out what the squirrely pru spook was up to.

The conspiracy theories aside, the interest in battlesynth hardware and personnel looked an awful lot like he was trying to set up a new business venture somewhere. If so, who were the clients? If it was the ConFed, then he was likely helping them to eliminate one of the few people that knew who was controlling the Council. If Alocur was in bed with them and had stolen a heap of battlesynth tech… the results could be nothing short of catastrophic. He highly doubted that the new ConFed would employ the same ethical restraints as the Kheprians when it came to the development and deployment of battlesynths.

CHAPTER 17

"THE ESHQUARIAN CAMPAIGN went as you predicted, much to the surprise of our Fleet masters."

"OF COURSE IT DID. And why wouldn't it? The Eshquarians were as surprised as your Fleet masters that we were actually going to impose our will through use of force. For over two thousand years you've all squabbled back and forth, but nobody has had the vision or the courage to unify you."

"Is that what we're doing? Unifying people?" Councilman Scleesz asked. He was now actually Minister Scleesz under the new regime, a title he wasn't used to or even sure he wanted given the price so far. "Because the Eshquarian Empire—"

"Is no more. We'll allow them to maintain the illusion for a short time that they might retain their independence while we bring them into the fold, but soon all the old vestiges of their pitiful little empire will fall away, replaced by systems we put in place. You're not having second thoughts, are you, Minister?"

"Of course not," Scleesz said in a way he hoped was convincing. Years ago, when this new player had approached him through intermediaries and had suggested this course of action, he'd dismissed it out of hand. The next time a representative met with him, they brought enough material of his own illicit activities to ensure his execution on his own planet. He remembered the day well, almost to the exact instant that he realized he was compromised and that he'd serve this new master to save his own wretched skin.

At first he viewed the turn of events with a pragmatic eye. New factions, families, or star systems would rise to prominence and, for a time, control the ConFed Council through bribes or threats. None of it really mattered because nothing ever changed. Member systems still came to the Council with their petty concerns, the Core Worlds would ignore them for the most part, and their mighty Starfleet would only get involved if a dispute really got out of hand. As long as everyone paid their taxes, something that happened automatically thanks to the Kheprians, then everyone got along well. Why should he be too concerned about the latest in a long line of power-hungry opportunists?

As it turned out, he should have feared for much more than his own life and reputation. It quickly became apparent that this newcomer was not only a foreigner from outside the ConFed, but was cunning and utterly ruthless in how he went about achieving his goals. In less than ten years he'd managed to control all the Core World delegates within the Council completely and all without ever making a public appearance. The truly terrifying part to Scleesz was that as quadrillions of citizens went about their lives, they had no idea that something truly evil had taken root in the ConFed's already-rotten core. They'd learn soon enough, though. This attack on the Eshquarian Empire was only the beginning. The Fleet would roll over the lesser local powers in short order and then, once his grip on quadrant was ironclad, he would set his sights on the Avarian Empire.

MADNESS.

"DAMN, they really have cleaned things up. The last time we were through here there was orbital trash trailing along behind Torus," Jason said.

"I think that was part of their defensive strategy," Doc said. "It only left three approach vectors unless you wanted to risk colliding with one of the burned-out wrecks they just left abandoned."

The Phoenix had been stuck in a holding pattern for the last six days as Mok had been unable to get them the landing clearance he'd promised. It wasn't that the crime boss was lacking in juice, it was more that the heavy construction happening within the station meant that even if he could get them a priority clearance there wasn't any room in the main or auxiliary hangars for a ship as small as the Phoenix. The name of the game was anonymity and landing the gunship with no cargo on a special permit was a surefire way to be memorable.

One bright spot had been that their proximity to the station had allowed Kage to slice into their network and use a sizable chunk of bandwidth to begin combing through records, trying to get a match on the images they'd pulled from the Phoenix's com server. If they could get a generalized location from hits on security cameras, it would help give them an edge when it came time to actually get on the station.

A not so bright spot during the prolonged wait was that the battlesynth seemed to have regressed after a flurry of activity once Jason applied the software bridge. It had gone from stating basic concepts and asking questions to then just repeating “Lucky” over and over. After a while it stopped even doing that and was now just sitting on the floor near the galley, refusing to move. Cas had told him to calm down and that these sorts of aberrant behaviors were to be expected when a process as complex as integration was attempted while both the matrix and the body were fully powered up. Jason told Cas to shut the hell up or he would dig the implant it lived on out of his head with a spoon. The nonsensical threat must have worked as it had been mercifully silent.

I have an idea.

"Spoke too soon," Jason muttered.

What?

"What?" Kage asked. Jason waved him off and waited for the voice in his head to elaborate.

We'll never get a landing spot with this strategy. There are heavy construction haulers lined up halfway around the planet. However, there are about two dozen hard dock points that the Phoenix could easily connect to. Have your gangster buddy falsify some credentials for Kage to go and do maintenance in the security complex.

"Why there?" Jason asked under his breath.

He'll be able to search through images using the hardware at the source. It will be more efficient than trying to scour through directory after directory using the uplink.

"Doc, I have an idea," Jason said and quickly relayed what he wanted Mok to do in order to get Kage where he could do the most good.

"That's… really not a bad idea," Kage said thoughtfully. "We'd even be able to take in a sizable chunk of armament hiding inside equipment cases. Make sure that Mok lists the contract as general maintenance and not repair. It'll be suspicious if our docking permit comes through before I have a chance to break their system."

Jason sat and basked in the adoration of the crew as they told him how brilliant his idea was and how impressed they were that he'd thought of it. Through it all he swore he could almost feel Cas sulking in the background. By the time Mok's permit breezed through and the Phoenix was given docking instructions, Kage and Twingo had managed to fabricate a set of two rolling cases that would easily house—and more importantly sensor-shield—any personal weaponry the team might want to bring along.

In a decision that set off another heated argument, Jason decided to split the crew evenly and only take Crusher and Kage with him onto the station. Twingo and Doc would man the ship and be on standby for a quick escape, and the battlesynth would continue to hold down the deck plate in the galley as it still stared off into space, oblivious to their presence. Once that was settled, and Jason had finally convinced Crusher that most network analysts wore sleeves and didn't wear armor, he pulled the Phoenix out of the holding formation and began to chase after Torus Station.

Jason asked Cas what it calculated the odds at that they would be able to identify and grab the fleet officer without any trouble, but apparently the AI wasn't speaking to him at the moment.

CHAPTER 18

THE CONSTRUCTION TAKING place within Torus Station was so expansive that the three of them were ushered through the security checkpoint without much more than a curious glance at the hulking Galvetic warrior that was claiming to be a network analyst. Kage could talk the talk, however, and Verans were renowned throughout the quadrant as experts in technology, so within ten minutes of exiting the airlock they were walking freely inside the hollowed-out asteroid.

Kage had been so convincing and had done such thorough recon before they'd even docked the Phoenix that the poor sap managing the security checkpoint called for a vehicle that would take them directly to a place it called Central Operations, or at least that's how it translated. The code slicer confirmed that it was exactly where they needed to be heading and they all piled into the automated ground car that could barely fit the three of them and the two-wheeled crates of gear.

"Credit where credit is due: I'm impressed," Crusher said. "Either you've just decided to begin taking your job seriously, or you've had some extensive training while we were gone. Good job, Kage."

"Thanks," Kage said distractedly. "Now the main issue will be that we don't have the credentials to gain access through the main entrance to the operations center. The security there will be far more stringent than those slobs working an auxiliary passenger hatch. I couldn't risk falsifying three badges because the security codes rotate too quickly."

"I assume you have a way around that?" Jason asked.

"Of course." Kage smiled. "It's actually not too difficult, but it won't be comfortable. We can get into the lower levels through an access tunnel."

"That doesn't sound bad," Crusher said. "Just as long as by 'access' you don't actually mean 'sewer.'"

"It'll be a little bit worse than a sewer," Kage said. "It's where the main power lines that feed the center make entry. There won't be any permanent damage, but the side effects of being near high-power lines for the length of the tunnel are… unpleasant. Also, we can't take any energy weapons with us and we'll need to manually power down our neural implants. That includes your ocular implants, Captain."

"That's not a big issue for us, but isn't yours a lot more specialized?" Jason asked before covering his mouth to mask his next word. "Cas?"

"It'll boot back up even quicker than yours will," Kage said. "Don't worry. I've switched it off manually before since mine shows up at a distance on most scanners."

There will be no issue for me if the implant is switched off. I will come back as if nothing happened.

"We should stash weapons strategically around the place since we'll not likely be coming back out the way we're going in," Kage said. "Blades are fine and the captain's railgun won't be affected as long as he removes the powerpack."

"Will do."

The rest of the short ride was spent using whatever imagery they could find over the public nexus of the operations center that would give them a good place to stash their equipment. By the time the vehicle slowed and the holographic display instructed them to disembark, they'd found a place near a side exit where someone had piled up a decent collection of hand tools and a rock cutter that used four rotating laser emitter heads to cleanly carve channels into the asteroid's nickel-iron surface. The two crates they'd brought with them fit right in after Jason had grabbed some black soil from recent landscaping and rubbed it all over their too-clean surfaces.

"The entrance to the power junction is over there. I should be able to slice through that lock without trouble," Kage said. "It won't be very secure since the building has redundant power systems… this is just to keep out the vandals and petty thieves."

"That and no sane people would willing walk through this access tunnel," Crusher said.

"That too," Kage agreed and pulled a device out of his pocket while Jason and Crusher slipped on their lightweight armor and weaponry. "Hold still and I'll shut your wetware down with this. It's easier than trying to enter the proper sequence at the connector in your heads."

Once he'd waved the device over his head, Jason felt like everything became a lot dimmer without his ocular implants smoothing the light out. It wasn't until his friends spoke that he really felt the difference: He couldn't understand what they were saying since each was speaking their native tongue.

"We'll need to practice a bit more for this contingency," he said in Jenovian Standard, a language he used so much with the implant's help that he was decently fluent in it.

"Except that Crusher's mouth can't properly pronounce all the phonetics for Jenovian," Kage said. "His teeth get in the way. Come on, the sooner we're in, the sooner I can switch you back on."

The tunnel that ran under two streets and into the operations center was nondescript, dark, and had the expected trunk lines anchored to the walls and ceiling. What made it unique, however, was that the radiated energy off the high-power lines made them all instantly nauseous, screwed with their balance, and induced near crippling headaches along with an odd metallic taste. Jason had to assume that he was being permanently damaged and shoved Kage along to get through the tunnel and into the building as quickly as possible.

He didn't think he was going to make it and was struggling to keep his thoughts coherent while his feet plodded along automatically. Jason was in such a daze that, by the time Crusher wrenched open the flimsy gate that was probably more to keep vermin out than intruders, he had to be pulled into the basement of the building. Kage led them quickly through a short corridor and then, once he slammed the shielded door closed, the effects of the radiated energy began to dissipate immediately. The code slicer had them both lay on the floor and went about reactivating their implants.

I will counteract the effects of the radiation. Stand by.

"Everyone okay?" Kage asked.

"Let's never do that again," Crusher groaned and rolled into a sitting position. "Captain?"

"I'm good," Jason said as Cas used the implant to control the emergency medical nanobots in his body to erase the headache and disorientation. He pulled the powerpack for his weapon, then the spare. Both were showing errors. "Damn… these didn't make it."

"So we have no standoff weapons?" Crusher asked.

"Nope," Jason said. "Lead the way, Kage. Let's do this as quick as possible."

"What the hell sort of power are they using here?" Crusher rubbed at his head. "There's no way that's not going to have permanent side effects."

"Theoretically the damage is non-cumulative… but I would definitely have Doc check you over once we're back on the ship," Kage said. "We need to go one floor up and then you two will get the fun of overpowering a manned security station before we can get to a direct access node."

As it turned out, Kage's information was incorrect and there was nothing more substantial than a flimsy door with a mechanical lock to keep them out of the access point. Showing his disappointment, Crusher pulled one of his blades and wedged it into the doorframe, the molecular edge easily slicing down through the locking mechanism without making it too obvious someone had been tampering.

While Jason moved to check all the other points of entry, Crusher posted up by the door they came in through while Kage broke out his equipment and began connecting into the station's systems. Since they'd come in on the backside of the hardware firewalls that protected access points near the docks and hangars, it didn't take him long to force his way into where he needed to be. By the time Jason returned, he'd already uploaded the search parameters from the images they'd pulled off the Phoenix and had the computers churning through the data for matches. Almost immediately partial hits began popping up and Kage had to reset his search filters to chop out anything under an eighty percent certainty as they didn't have the time to comb through false positives.

"We have enough ninety-plus hits that I'd say this guy was definitely here," Kage said. "Starting an analysis of movements over the time period most of these images were captured. With any luck I'll have his daily routine down and we can snag him at a shop while grabbing his morning tea."

"I wonder if there'd be a decent market here for coffee," Jason mused, causing Crusher to roll his eyes.

"We have a problem," Kage said. "Nope, we have two problems… which one do you want to hear about first?"

"The most immediate," Jason said.

"Your buddies from Chenyx Six are here, and by here I mean they're already on the station and coming towards the operations center," Kage said. "Public security camera picked them up getting into a ground car on the hangar level."

"How did you manage to just randomly find that?" Crusher asked suspiciously.

"With all this computing power available, I put in an alert if any small ships docked with or landed in the station," Kage said. "I sort of expected this. I assumed they put a tracker on the Phoenix before we left Nott… our ship is just as recognizable as theirs."

"Shit," Jason muttered. "What's the other bad news?"

"Our target isn't on Torus Station anymore. He left about … half a year ago. I've got him getting on a commercial transport and that's the last entry for him. I'm doing a data dump now for the starliner docking orders and passenger manifests for that time. We'll need to analyze it on the Phoenix because someone is aware I'm snooping around and I'm getting some push-back."

"After the data dump, purge the station servers of anything you found on the target," Jason said. "Don't leave anything for Jurg and his band of assclowns."

"Are those clowns that—"

"It's just an expression, don't overthink it," Jason cut off Crusher.

"Data is copied… images of the target are purged," Kage said. "You ready for bad news number three?"

"Why not?"

"The purge action kicked off an automated anti-intrusion protocol. I didn't see it because it was dormant and, honestly, they seemed pretty lax about security and I was moving fast. We'll have trouble getting transportation out of here and we'll damn sure have trouble trying to get through dock security and back onto the ship."

"Tell Doc to disconnect and move away," Jason sighed. "We'll find another way out of here."

"That doesn't sound promising," Crusher grumbled. "Come on… we need to get to where we stashed the party favors before any security or mercs show up."

The trio rushed out of the room and ran smack into a security patrol that had been walking slowly towards them, apparently intent on seeing what the alarm in an obscure network access closet was about. When a wild-eyed Galvetic warrior leaped out in front of them, brandishing two wickedly curved blades, whatever training they may have had for their job was promptly forgotten. Crusher roared and lunged at them, a tactic that was met with partial success. One turned and fled as if his life depended on it, the other fainted and collapsed into a heap where he stood.

"You are so easily entertained." Jason stepped over the prone alien while Crusher giggled and followed behind them.

They made it to the side exit without further incident other than hearing calls over the PA to clear the area where they were. Everything seemed to be smooth sailing right up until Jason kicked the door open and ran out into the open just as two members of Chenyx Six had apparently been affixing a breaching charge. He'd hit the door with enough force to send one sailing, but the other stayed on his feet… and he was the one holding the detonator.

"Move!" Jason shouted, angling away and accelerating to clear the way for his friends. The three of them were down off the wide steps and sprinting towards where they'd stashed their gear just a split second ahead of the detonator button being depressed. The blast was mild, just a shaped charge that was meant to cut through the locks and hinges as quietly as possible, but it did still manage to kick the door back into the face of the alien Jason had knocked down. Apparently it not being seated into the frame made it somewhat unpredictable once explosives were applied.

"Ha! Nice shot… assclown!" Crusher shouted from behind the dubious cover of the discarded work containers and the laser boring machine. Jason looked up and saw that the door had probably killed the first alien—Jurg was really going to be pissed now—and the sapper that had been a bit trigger happy was now fumbling for a weapon, looking incensed at Crusher's insult.

Before the alien could pull his concealed weapon, Crusher lined up with a plasma pistol and hit him center mass from a range of nearly sixty meters, an extremely impressive shot with that weapon. Jason pulled fresh powerpacks for the railgun, squeezed off a low-velocity test shot, and then waved for his friends to follow him down a side alley and over before the rest of the Chenyx Six could make it around the operations center to see what had happened to one of their entry crews.

"Kage, I need a way out of here!" he shouted over his shoulder.

This station is equipped with over two hundred Class IV escape pods. If you were to utilize one, it could be flown away and retrieved by the Phoenix.

"Not bad," Jason muttered. "Kage! Find the closest escape pods!"

"What the hell good does that do? You're not going to blow up Torus Station, are you?"

"No. Well… probably not. The pods are Class IV. We can actually fly them away for a distance," Jason said, pulling up when it was obvious they weren't being pursued.

"Huh," Kage grunted. "That's… actually another good idea. There's a cluster half a click that way."

They slowed to a brisk walk, not wanting to attract undue attention now that they could hear alarms blaring in the distance around the operations center they'd just made a mess of. As it turned out, three heavily armed aliens in a nice part of the government district drew attention whether they were running or crawling, so they took off again as fast as they could.

"Keep cover, the security for these pods is automated." Kage popped off an access cover and let a few silvery tendrils of nanobots flow from his palm into one of the connectors to give him a hard circuit into the machine.

"How the hell did Chenyx find us so fast even with the tracker on the ship?" Crusher asked while they scanned the surrounding areas. "That makes no sense. Kage spots them as they hit the hangar level and they made a direct line for us?"

"Unlikely that it's pure coincidence," Jason agreed. "Could the smuggler they captured have given them that much detailed intel before we got to him? You know… the one you blew up?"

"I like how we keep dragging out all my mistakes over and over," Crusher said sourly. "It's possible the guy who sold the ConFed shuttle knew that he was heading here first."

"It's also plausible that the operations center would be the logical place to go if you were going to—oh, damn," Jason trailed off. "That wasn't a multipronged assault, that was only two guys sent to get the information Jurg wanted. They were using breaching charges because they're morons and have one mode, but that makes far more sense than our blind escape evading one of the better hit teams in the quadrant."

"If what you're saying is true, then we probably should have questioned the live one," Kage said. "They may have had a few more clues we were missing."

"Thanks," Jason said dryly. "What's taking so long?" As if that was the magic passphrase, the security gate popped and then slid aside with a slight squeal from its unoiled rails.

"Nothing." Kage smiled. "After you."

Jason and Crusher stepped into the staging area while Kage relocked the gate and then gestured for them to take the path furthest to the right. "There's a long transfer tube you'll slide down that has some grav assist to keep you moving once you drop past the main gravimetric generators."

Jason just nodded and hopped into the tube with his feet together and his weapon held against his chest.

The asteroid that Torus Station was built into was, more or less, an enormous chunk of nickel-iron. There were enough impurities in it that it wasn't worth the cost to mine it for anything useful, but there were enough people enamored with living inside hollowed-out asteroids that the local government was still able to lease it out. Since the asteroid was small and hollowed out in such a way that the levels were stacked like a building, artificial gravity had to be employed to keep everything anchored down. The chutes to the escape pods passed through nearly seventy meters of solid iron and put them on the bottom side of the station's grav generators, so low-powered grav plating had to be added along the way. Jason didn't mind it so much except for the jerk it gave him every time he passed over one.

"This isn't a very efficient system for escape pods," Jason commented once they were all standing down in a dimly lit vestibule right outside the main airlock hatch.

"More for show than anything else," Kage said. "Having all these advanced pods in place helps when selling property here and keeps the local inspectors at bay. In reality, having to travel five minutes to the pod during a catastrophic station failure means you'll probably die like everyone else."

"All the more reason to get the hell out of here," Crusher said and cycled the airlock.

The pod blew free of its moorings and launched them out free of the asteroid. Kage disabled the tracking beacon and then hooked into the limited com system so that he could try to raise the Phoenix.

"You know… that seemed way easier than usual," Crusher said with a yawn. The other two just looked at him like he was insane for tempting fate in such a flagrant way.

"THERE'S THE POD," Twingo pointed out.

"I have it," Doc smacked the engineer's hands away. "Just tell me where, don't actually point on the display. The ship should be able to recognize the standard airlock on the front of that thing and adjust her orientation automatically."

"Did you also see that there's a ship that left the station's main hangar and is moving on a direct intercept for the pod?" Twingo asked.

Doc looked at the sensor feed and scrunched his nose up. "Station security?"

"Not in a ship like that," Twingo said. "Hang on… yep, the profile has been changed, but that's Jurg's ship. They must have followed us out. Kage mentioned Jason thinks they put a tracker on her."

"No… they're going straight for the pod," Doc said. "They're bypassing us like they don't see us."

"That's not good," Twingo said. "How rusty are you, Doc?"

"Why?"

"We're going to full combat mode. Powering up weapons, shields, and warming up expendable munitions. Is Lucky still sitting on the floor in the galley?"

"Last I saw," Doc confirmed as he flew through his checklist to bring the Phoenix up to full power. "You better get in the copilot's seat, I'll need a hand with this."

"You never did answer my question."

"I don't think you want to know the answer," Doc said grimly.

CHAPTER 19

"IT LOOKS like Jurg is going for a grapple," Twingo said. "That gives us a little more time than if he just fired off a fusion missile at the pod."

"HOW DO you want to handle this?" Doc asked for the third time. He had calmed down some and seemed to be finding his rhythm again with the Phoenix though all he'd done so far was maneuver so that he had a clear shot without endangering the pod.

"No warning calls, no warning shots," Twingo said. "I doubt we'll disable him at this range with anything less than an XT missile and all that will do is bring that ConFed trawler in for a closer look before we can get the crew out of the pod and mesh-out.

"Line up for a lateral run with the main cannons. The plasma bolts aren't very fast, but Jurg isn't a great pilot so he probably can't juke out of the way in time."

"At this range—"

"At this range, scaring him off is just as good as destroying him, maybe more so," Twingo said calmly. "I know the plasma bolts lose cohesion as the field emitters lose charge, but it should still be enough to knock the hell out of them. A few energy blasts splashing off shields won't bring anyone out to investigate. An expanding cloud of debris will."

Doc grumbled but took Twingo's advice, accelerating hard to get ahead of the seemingly oblivious merc ship. Jurg's craft was an infiltrator, not a gunfighter, so the Phoenix had an obvious advantage, but both of them knew appearances could be deceiving. He pulled almost parallel with the fleeing pod and then swung about as hard as the ship would let him, knowing that Jurg would see them coming after the abrupt maneuver.

"Release helm control to the tactical computer and let it line your shot up," Twingo said. "There you go … almost … clear to fire."

Doc squeezed and held the trigger. The six main cannons along the leading edges of the wing roots began belching brilliant red bolts of superheated plasma while the computer adjusted fire by angling the ship over slightly. The plasma cannons were a devastating weapon, but severely range-limited. By the time the first bolts splashed against the transport's shields, they'd lost much of their destructive energy, but they made a hell of a light show. The ship was engulfed in streaming zero-g flames as the shields flared to absorb the thermal shock.

The results were immediate. Jurg yanked his ship off course to take him directly away from the approaching gunship even while Doc reversed his angle to turn into the fleeing transport. Doc squeezed off a few more shots to try and really sell the illusion that he was pursuing with an intent to destroy before throttling back and bumping into reverse a bit to slow their relative velocity.

"He's out of here," Twingo said. "Sensors show they're at full burn still and accelerating."

"He gave up fairly easy," Doc said.

"That's because he knows he can find us again at will and bide his time until he has the advantage," Twingo said. "The guys were right… there's a tracker on this ship somewhere."

"HOW CLOSE WAS HE?!"

"Less than three thousand kilometers," Twingo said. "He was definitely trying to capture you."

"Damn," Jason said, rubbing his jaw. "This is weird. Good job chasing him off, but we need to find that tracker and pronto."

They decided the best place to hide was in plain sight while Chenyx Six was still able to track them and the Torus Station security was whipped into a frenzy. Jason put the Phoenix back into formation, the same one with two ConFed ships, and then watched the sensors as Twingo and Kage scoured the ship for the tracker. It wasn't an easy job since the device was made to not be found, and it required more than a few EVA excursions out onto the hull. They even had Jason deploy the landing gear while they were outside to check it over.

After thirty-eight hours of exhaustive work they'd still found nothing. They were all frustrated and tired, and tempers were wearing thin. The Phoenix was still floating in formation, now directly behind the ConFed trawler, so close that Jason could just make out the bluish flare from the drives. He knew he wasn't the most technically savvy of the bunch, but he was a born problem solver. If, after damn near two days, they still hadn't found the tracker on the Phoenix then logic dictated that it likely wasn't there. In an epiphany born of exhaustion and caffeine, he realized that the clue wasn't that Jurg kept finding them, but that he seemed to know specifically where Jason was. He'd been coming directly at him once they'd launched in the escape pod.

"Cas… what are the chances that Jurg stuck a tracker in me while they had me chained to the chair?" Jason asked when he was alone. "Wouldn't you have noticed that?"

Not necessarily. As I have tried to explain, I exist as a fragment within your neural implant. I am not fully integrated into your systems, and while you are unconscious or asleep I am quite unaware of the world around us. I also cannot detect tactile sensations, so if something was surgically implanted while you were unconscious I would have certainly missed that.

"Interesting," Jason said, ignoring the sarcasm. Cas would sometimes seem all-knowing, so it was easy to forget just how limited the accidental intelligence really was.

"What's interesting?" Doc asked, walking onto the bridge.

"It's interesting that you walked onto the bridge at the exact moment I was about to ask that you give me your most invasive, nastiest, intimate examination of your life." Jason smiled widely.

"You know what? I put up with a lot of—"

"I'm actually being serious, Doc," Jason said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I think the tracker we're looking for may have been put in me when Jurg had me captive."

"That would make more sense than it being on the Phoenix now that I'm thinking about it," Doc mused. "It'd have to be something that's able to transmit in slip-space, but this stuff is getting smaller and smarter all the time."

"And we can assume that Jurg has access to all the latest and greatest as one of the assassins many governments will turn to first when they need someone offed," Jason said.

"We'd better get started," Doc said. "We can't just sit here behind this ConFed ship forever."

"PLEASE, come in and sit, Alocur. I thank you for coming."

"Saditava Mok," Alocur said with a half-smile. "Or should I call you—"

"You would be wise to refer to me by the name I have given you," Mok said coldly.

"Of course," Alocur said smoothly. "I must admit to being surprised by this invitation. I would assume the situation in the Empire consumes your full attention."

"The Empire will have to handle its affairs without my help, I'm afraid," Mok said. "The ConFed struck with such speed and precision that there's not much to be done for my former homeland at this point, and certainly not by someone like me."

"You may be surprised."

"Yes," Mok said slowly, staring at his guest with an intensity that would have wilted most. "So I've asked you here because, at the request of a mutual acquaintance, I've been making discreet inquiries into your background. Imagine my surprise when I learned you're not actually with Kheprian Intelligence anymore."

"No more than you're still with Eshquarian Intelligence, Mok," Alocur said. "I'm still a patriot and I'm still doing my duty just as you do… in your own twisted way."

"Fair point, if somewhat inaccurate." Mok shrugged. "So… who do you work for? Why are you running around tracking retired Fleet officers while simultaneously dabbling in highly illegal battlesynth research programs?"

Alocur seemed to size Mok up before answering. "The rumors of your affinity for this merc crew I've hired have a little more truth to them than I would have thought," he finally said. "Let me assure you that I am not using Omega Force as cannon fodder. I legitimately hired them because, despite outward appearances, they're probably some of the best in the quadrant at what they do. If that will assuage your fears some, perhaps we can discuss the details of why finding this officer is so important.

"One mighty empire has already fallen and these are just the opening moves, my friend. I promise you it won't be the last. If my suspicions about you are true, then you could be a powerful ally in the days to come."

"And if your suspicions are false?"

"Then I'll likely be dead before I make it back to my ship."

Over the course of the rest of the day, Alocur laid out the quadrant's current political landscape from a perspective that Mok didn't have. Much of it he already knew, but the parts he didn't added context that didn't paint a pretty picture for the future of freedom-loving species everywhere. By the time Alocur wrapped up his presentation, Mok was feeling the first twinges of real fear at what the regime change within the ConFed could mean.

"I can't commit much at this point," Mok said. "Despite rumors and appearances, I'm still subject to the will of the leadership within this organization. If I make moves that are too radical or not profit-oriented enough for their tastes then they will waste no time in replacing me. I don't do anybody any good dead… especially not me."

"Understood," Alocur said. "I still appreciate you listening to what I've said and any help with transportation and locations for manufacturing would be more helpful at this point than direct aid that can be traced back to you."

"Agreed." Mok stood, indicating the meeting was at an end. "Be careful, Alocur… you're only one pru. Pick your battles wisely."

Alocur just smiled and nodded before walking out of the office.

Once he was gone, Mok entered his credentials into a secure terminal and began going through a detailed listing of his organization's assets. He started with the big ones: planets, moons, orbital facilities, and ships. It was an impressive list, but in light of what he'd just learned, it might not be enough.

CHAPTER 20

"IMPRESSIVE BIT OF TECH," Kage said. He was holding a specimen container that held a state-of-the-art slip-space position tracker, still covered in human blood from the extraction.

"IT'S NOT as small as I'd assumed given that none of our normal scanners picked it up," Jason said, rubbing his right buttock where the device had been imbedded.

"It's actively shielded and when it detects scan fields it goes dark," Kage said.

"How did you not notice the incision scar?" Crusher asked. "They didn't do a great job patching you back up."

"How often do you turn around and stare at your own ass in the mirror?" Jason asked. "You know what? Don't answer that."

"So do we just incinerate it or have a little fun first?" Twingo asked. "We have three of those slip-space decoys from the Oosjono mission in the cargo hold unless you two sold them for booze money."

"What do they look like?" Crusher asked.

"About two meters long, sort of a flattened cylinder with a sensor bulb at the front," Kage said.

"Doesn't ring a bell. They should still be there," Jason said, pulling up his pants and trying to maneuver around everyone crammed into the infirmary. "Go set one up and send Jurg on a merry chase while we figure out where we're going next."

"So," Kage said after he and Jason were along in the com room.

"So?"

"There was something … interesting … knocking around in your neural implant during that procedure. I was monitoring its output while Doc was probing around in your backside." Kage's seemingly casual interest raised alarm bells in Jason's head.

"Just the usual crap that you've put in there," he said. "And we're not using the word probed anymore after that parasite issue on Irakol-4, remember?"

"Don't remind me." Kage shuddered. "But back to the subject at hand. There was something else—" The computer alert cut him off and a new list of cross-referenced data popped up on a fresh display. "Got him."

"Really?"

"Yep. We were able to bounce his image across multiple databases on the station to get his compartment number for the starliner he rode out of here on, the destination, and the name he used," Kage said.

"Venda Seh," Jason read off the screen. "Fairly generic verben name. So now we have a species too. Any way you can check to see if he's still on Thalia Prime?"

"Not through this many nexus nodes if we want to keep this discreet. It'd flag for sure if anyone had part of that data and was also looking for him," Kage said. "We'll either need to get closer to the source or kick this up to someone like Mok or Alocur."

"I think we'll do both," Jason said after a moment. "After Twingo sends his decoy, we'll begin heading towards the Thalia system. I want you to compose a message to both Mok and Alocur and tell them what we have so far and see if there's any additional intel we need before arrival."

Jason left quickly before Kage could complain or change the subject again. He knew what the shifty little code slicer must have detected within his implant, and he wasn't ready to divulge that information just yet. Partially because he wasn't sure what he was going to do about Cas, but mostly because it would force him to admit that he'd been carrying around the combined knowledge of an extinct super-species in his head for years and he hadn't used it to make them rich, as that's how those conversations tended to go.

An hour after they had a new destination in mind, the decoy was ready to be heaved out the back of the cargo hold where it could trail behind the Phoenix for a bit before zipping off on its own mission. Kage and Doc had pulled another half a liter of blood from Jason so that the tracker would still be in sufficient biomass that it wouldn't alert the owner that it had been removed… or Jason had fallen for another cruel joke at his expense. Either way, there he was, light-headed and woozy, tossing the decoy off the back ramp and through the electrostatic barrier.

"I APPRECIATE THE HONEST ASSESSMENT, Kellea," Seeladas Dalton said, passing a hand over her face. She'd summoned her favored taskforce commander in to get her opinion on the ConFed move against the Eshquarian Empire. The news wasn't good.

"I wish I had better news," Kellea said. "But at our current strength, and even taking into account a possible alliance with the Protectorate, we just don't have enough warships to hold against the ConFed fleet if they come against us. Even with the humans churning out their new Defender-class destroyers at an impressive rate, it would be too little, too late."

"Crafty little creatures, those humans," Seeladas said. "I'm curious how in the span of ten cycles they're fielding more advanced starships than we have access to through some of the best commercial yards in the quadrant."

"I have… suspicions," Kellea said flatly.

Seeladas looked at her appraisingly but said nothing more on the matter. She was well aware of the failed relationship between her admiral and a human that, despite his many qualities, had managed to get her father executed by a foreign government. She knew the whole story, of course, but it didn't help her settle her feelings on the matter. Her muted rage was directed more at the arrogant Avarians than it was at Jason Burke himself. The man had a right to defend himself though she felt he could have been a bit more even-handed about the matter. Even now she still thought her father had been acting in the best interests of all despite the evidence that he'd participated in the kidnapping of the Avarian sovereign's daughter.

"So what do you suggest we do, Admiral?" she asked.

"This is far outside my area of expertise or comfort, Chancellor," Kellea said. "Tactics I can do, long-term strategy between nations is something I actively avoid."

"You know my father had been grooming you for just that, don't you?" Seeladas asked. Kellea said nothing. She was uncomfortable with the tone her boss took when she talked about the relationship the then-captain had with Crisstof Dalton. "I think he knew his offspring might be … ill-suited … for the job. At least that's how I interpreted it."

"I… couldn't speak to your father's motivations in most things, Chancellor," Kellea said carefully.

"Of course not." Seeladas smiled humorlessly before changing subjects again. "I think it's likely, necessary even, that we'll be forced to bend to the ConFed's wishes when they come. Given our small stature and the fact we've been careful not to be seen as competing for the same resources, I'm hopeful that they will just wring unfair economic concessions out of us, but we'll maintain our autonomy. However, please be sure the fleet is ready for any action required of it."

"I will, Chancellor," Kellea said. She would normally answer that question with a perfunctory "of course," but that response seemed to enrage her boss of late. The last time she'd uttered it Seeladas dressed her down in front of the other flag officers about the dangers of assuming she knew what the Chancellor wanted.

"You may go, Admiral."

Kellea swiftly left the office, collecting her aide in the outer lobby as she did. Seeladas was becoming increasingly unpredictable the more the pressure mounted from the changes within the ConFed. She waffled from being the hopeful, benevolent leader she was when the Cooperative was founded to being angry and bitter that her father's death had left the mess in her lap.

One thing the admiral didn't doubt: The wolves were at the door. Things had been happening within the ConFed and, against her advice, Seeladas had withdrawn much of their presence within their own borders. The “consolidation,” as she called it, left them vulnerable and made them appear weak. They had no intelligence apparatus to speak of, most of their information coming from an increasingly bold Earth military that was sending out scout ships faster than any other colonizing species. The problem with the human intel was that their data lacked a lot of context and it was sometimes difficult to gauge the true severity of a threat from their reports.

What she needed was a reliable, close perspective of the recent troubles. She would normally reach out to Jason, even given how things had ended between them, but the last she'd heard he and Crusher had gone on a rage-fueled warpath along the frontier after Lucky had been killed on Khepri. She'd watched him during similar bouts of self-destructiveness and she knew that much of what she'd get from him would be useless if he was living on anger and alcohol. Hells, he probably wasn't even aware that the Eshquarian Empire had fallen with little more than a whimper. Maybe she could try to use back channels and reach out to one of his friends within Earth's new military. If nothing else they'd likely been tracking ConFed fleet movements. For all their faults, humans seemed to have a knack for espionage and fighting… and being stubborn d'zeforns that couldn't admit when they were wrong.

"JUST RECEIVED word back from Mok," Kage announced. "Weirdly enough, his people and Alocur's worked together to get this intel."

"So what's the good word?" Jason asked.

"Chenyx Six might have been the least of our problems," Kage said. "Word is that a ConFed strike team is on its way, too. They must have figured out who and where this Venda guy was through other means."

"An actual strike team, or one of those hit squads from Intel Section," Crusher asked.

"I'm reading it how it was sent," Kage said. "Mok said strike team."

"That's not good," Jason said. "We're way under-manned to be taking on a pack of those psychopaths. Any chance either of them can send help now that we have a good location for this guy?"

"Mok is sending the closest crew he's got, but they won't get there until well after we do. Alocur has no resources available. His unhelpful addition was to tell us that any risk we took to grab Venda would be worth it," Kage said.

"Worth it for him," Twingo muttered. "He's got no skin in the game."

"We'll have to hit hard and fast and that means having an accurate detailed layout of the planet's orbital control system, defenses, and average military or law enforcement response time." Jason looked squarely at Kage as he said this.

"Point taken," Kage said. "But that last time was a fluke, you have to admit. I'm usually spot on when it comes to threat assessments."

"No comment," Jason muttered. "Anything else?"

"Am I to plan the ground op assuming that our friend here won't be joining us?" Crusher asked, nodding towards the battlesynth that was now staring at the simulated starfield on the main canopy but not interacting with any of them. Jason couldn't tell if it was an improvement or not. Cas kept telling him to remain patient and hopeful. Jason was neither.

"You would assume correctly," he said sadly. "We'll be there in four days and he's not showing any real level of improvement or that he even understands what's happening around him."

"You called him 'he' instead of 'it,'" Doc said quietly. "That's at least some sort of improvement right there."

Jason looked over at his friend but said nothing. He just rolled his eyes and walked off the bridge.

CHAPTER 21

MINISTER SCLEESZ PAUSED outside the chamber where the Master—a title he was certain the being hadn't picked for itself—held audience. He'd been summoned and cleared through security, but there had still been someone in there and he didn't want to intrude. Unable to help himself, he listened in to what was being said. He recognized the voice of Starfleet's head of operations, the person who was the direct intermediary between the ConFed's civilian government and its military arm. The second person in there sounded familiar, but Scleesz couldn't place where he'd heard the voice.

"—ONLY TAKE the Solas seven days to get there if we issue movement orders now. The strike team is already days ahead and will reach the planet shortly."

"Excellent," the Master said. "The redundancy of both forces will ensure that the traitor is not given the chance to slip from our grasp again."

"My forces need no… redundancy." Now Scleesz knew the voice. She was the Director of Special Operations. Her office was under the umbrella of Intel Sector to keep the budgets opaque, but her resources were more often at the disposal of Starfleet as Intel Sector had their own operators that were a bit more restrained for their type of work.

"This is no time for territorial squabbles," the Master chided. "Too often in the past, objectives have not been met because of ego and artificial boundaries. You are allies, not competitors. No matter whose forces execute the traitor, it is our victory. Now please, go about your tasks and allow me to speak to the Minister who is waiting outside."

Scleesz stood impassively as the two filed past him with little more than a curious look before he went into the chamber and waited. When he'd first been summoned and the disembodied voice began issuing him directives, he'd laughed at the melodrama and absurdity of the whole thing… right up until the newcomer showed him the video proof it had of his own indiscretions. He knew at that moment he'd do anything he was told to keep his offspring from learning of his less charitable attributes.

"This isn't like you, skulking about in the corridor."

"I was—"

"Yes, I know you were cleared by security," the Master said. "I wanted you to hear what you did."

"So… we found our missing Fleet captain?" Scleesz asked.

"We did. He's on Thalia Prime."

"Never heard of it," Scleesz admitted.

"It's not a significant world and it doesn't fall within your sphere of influence. He's been living under the name Venda Seh. I've sent a strike team to handle him, and should they fail, there's a contingency plan that will eliminate any chance of him escaping."

"I heard. The Solas is a battleship. Is that not a bit… excessive?"

"Considering the rate of failure when it comes to finding this wayward officer I'm inclined to excess this time around," the Master said with what almost sounded like a chuckle. "Our intelligence service managed to backtrack him when he made a mistake and reached out to someone in his old life… someone we had under observation. Sometimes all it takes is just one, tiny mistake and the whole thing comes undone. Isn't that so?"

"I suppose it is, Master. Was there something specific you needed from me?"

"The Thalia operation may have some unintended consequences… political consequences," the Master said. "Your job will be to make those go away with minimal disruption. This cannot be allowed to delay our schedule."

"What sort of consequences?" Scleesz asked, dreading what the answer might be.

"Civilian casualties are a distinct possibility depending on who Venda Seh has enlisted to aid him."

"Then perhaps it would be wise to hold off—"

"No!" the Master thundered, its voice distorting under the volume. "This man must die and I will not pass the opportunity given to us. He was there with me, at the beginning, and then betrayed me. I will not allow that to go unpunished."

"As you wish," Scleesz said, his voice trembling. "I will make preparations at once." Without waiting for a dismissal, he fled the chamber before he completely lost control of himself from fear. It seemed that the ConFed's new … dictator? emperor? … had severe impulse control issues. All this time Scleesz thought they were pursuing a renegade Fleet officer because he held state secrets that couldn't be allowed to leak out. Killing one military officer for the greater good wouldn't make him lose much sleep, but now it looked like the new boss was willing to kill civilians over what amounted to a personal grudge from being rejected. It didn't even look like the captain was much of a threat at this point: If he hadn't spilled any secrets he'd known by now, it would seem that he was content to live out the rest of his life in secret.

"Damn that idiot for breaking cover," Scleesz fumed, referring to Venda Seh. "If he'd just stayed underground nobody would have ever found him."

"Sir?"

"What? Oh, nothing," he said to his ever-present assistant. "I need you to do me a favor… I need a face-to-face meeting with someone named Saditava Mok. Do it as discreetly as if your life depended on nobody finding out … because it does."

"Not the Saditava Mok?" The assistant was appropriately scandalized at the mere thought of a senior councilman requesting a meeting with one of the quadrant's most notorious crime kingpins.

"Yes," Scleesz said. "That one. The contact information is in my personal files. You'll have to jump through some hoops, but he'll eventually answer. When he does, come directly to me."

"May I ask what this is regarding?"

"Correcting the biggest mistake of my life."

"Sir?"

"Just some business, my young friend," Scleesz said, speaking up. "It's nothing to be concerned about."

"HOW'S IT GOIN', Lucky." Jason found the battlesynth standing in the cargo bay by itself and figured he'd try one more time to get through to it. "I guess I owe you an apology. I haven't been very helpful while you've been going through something that has to be traumatic as hell." He hopped up on a stack of crates that the battlesynth had been standing near. The hold was jammed full of crap at the moment and Jason couldn't remember when they'd taken on so much cargo. At least it was all secured down with netting and locked to the deck.

"It's been tough on me—nothing like what you're going through, I assure you—and I guess the reason I haven't been as open towards you is I'm scared you might not really be in there. For humans, hope can be a cruel and soul-crushing thing. It pushes us to accomplish great feats, but when hope isn't realized the fall can be more demoralizing than anything. When you grabbed that bomb on Khepri and told your brothers to drag me out of there… Losing you was one of the hardest things I've gone through. I hadn't gotten over it, but I'd accepted it.

"Then I come home and find out that those two idiots found your brain still intact in what used to be your original body and that they were going to try and put you in a new one. No matter what Tauless or Alocur told me about tempering expectations, I let myself hope again. I guess some part of me thought you'd hop up off that table, give some straight-laced remark about everyone crying, and we'd just go back to the way things were."

The battlesynth was now staring at him intently, even leaning in a bit now, studying him. Jason could see its eyes roving around his face as he talked.

"Crusher wasn't much better. We'd all been through so much together and, honestly, I figured the order we'd die in would be me, Crusher, and then you. There's some wiggle room there because it's possible that Crusher and I would kill each other and it would be a tie. But I always alleviated my own guilt at your staying by my side with the fact that I'm very mortal and you aren't. Once I kicked off, you'd be free to find your own way again." He looked up and saw that he still had the machine's rapt attention.

"Look, buddy… we're heading into a hot one. We'll be taking on a ConFed strike team and not the pansies from Intel Section, a real group of hitters this time. I don't know if all of you is in there, pounding against the wall screaming to be heard, or maybe if it's just a part that carries some memories of your past life. Either way, I could use your help. I have no right to ever ask anything of you again. If you pull through and decide that you want me to fly you to Terranovus to be with your lot mates, I'll do so immediately. But maybe we all pull together for one final mission as a team."

Jason paused, feeling grubby and ashamed that at the end of spilling his heart out about his lost friend he had tried to cajole the battlesynth into fighting for them. He had no idea why he’d said it, it just came out. Maybe he'd run out of things to say or maybe he was more afraid of the coming operation than he let on, but he certainly wasn't proud of his actions.

"I've gotta get ready," he said, patting the battlesynth on the shoulder roughly like he used to do. "I'll catch you later."

"Later… Jason."

Jason wheeled and stared at the battlesynth, eyes wide, but it had already turned away and was inspecting the lock-downs on the next pile of cargo crates. Had he imagined it? He tried to recapture its attention, but the moment had passed. With a weary sigh Jason trudged off to the armory to begin prepping his gear. They had nine hours before they were in the Thalia system, and he hadn't even given much thought as to how he wanted to run the mission. If he didn't push the distraction of Lucky out of his mind, he'd end up getting himself and his friends killed.

CHAPTER 22

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

"IT'S prototype armor that Alocur's people made for me while they were bored during Lucky's reintegration," Jason said. "Supposed to be the latest and greatest in Kheprian research."

"So we're calling him Lucky again? Wait, don't change the subject," Crusher said. "If it's such sophisticated armor, why does it look like a shitty pressure suit with some stuff attached to it? What are those bands? Actuators?"

"It's not powered," Jason said. "It looks like a shitty pressure suit because that's what it once was. What part of 'prototype' isn't sinking in? They needed something substantial that also already fit me. This is the suit I normally wear on EVA, they've just modified it."

"That explains the smell. So… what's it do?"

"I'll let that be a surprise," Jason said. "For both of us. It'll either protect me from energy and kinetic weapons better than my older bulky powered suits, or I'll die when the first shot hits me."

"That'll be interesting to watch either way." Crusher yawned.

"Agreed," Jason said as he shrugged into the outer layer.

The Phoenix was in normal space and about halfway through the system to Thalia Prime and they were both starting to get the pre-op jitters, so the gallows humor the others found so disgusting was in full swing. He looked over as Kage prepped his own gear, the Veran unable to hide his anxiety behind jokes and bluster like they did. Jason needed to engage him without being coddling or condescending. In truth, Kage's growth in his absence was as impressive as it was unexpected.

"How about you, Kage? Any special toys you're bringing to the party?" he asked.

"I've got more of those little drone-bombs, a few wide-area munitions, and Twingo and I modified this light plasma rifle with a narrow focus so I'll be able to burn through armor without lugging a heavy around," Kage said.

"Plasma guns are supposed to be wide-area weapons," Crusher said. "Why not take one of the captain's railguns if you want something light and precise?"

"I've never used one," Kage said. "I'd rather not start experimenting during a live op."

"Sensible," Crusher agreed. "Do we know anything new about the objective?"

"I've tracked his movements on the planet via immigration records," Kage said. "He's now a permanent resident of Thalia Prime and still living under the Venda Seh alias. We know that he immigrated here with three other beings, ostensibly his family, but there aren't any records of their names."

"That's odd," Jason said.

"One of the quirks of this planet's bureaucracy," Kage said. "Only family heads are counted when a group arrives together and plans to cohabitate."

"The house location still concerns me," Jason said. "There's no way to get in touch with Venda to try and have him relocate to someplace less populated?"

"There is, but I still recommend against it," Kage said. "This is someone who has been on the run under an assumed identity for years. If we come bumbling in and start asking him to expose himself we'll likely just send him to ground. I'd imagine this guy has more than a few escape routes already planned."

Jason knew everything they were rehashing, but it helped cement it in everyone's mind—especially Crusher's—and it kept Kage focused on the parts of the mission that he was comfortable with and off the fact that he'd been forced into an operational role by necessity. Maybe after this mission, assuming they survived, Jason would look at bringing someone else on to fill the void left by Lucky. Since the decision appeared to be unanimous that they wanted to continue with Omega Force for the time being, he'd have no choice but to fill the large gap in their roster.

"We're coming up on our orbital insertion," Doc said over the shipwide. "Landing control has us fifty-eighth so it'll be another five hours or so before we deorbit."

"I'm taking a nap if this is going to take so long," Crusher said, stretching out on the bench in front of his wall locker.

"Not a bad idea," Jason agreed. "I think I'll grab something else to eat first, though. This has all the earmarks of being a long one."

The three of them went their separate ways to spend the last few hours before such a dangerous op how they wished. Jason wanted to spend the time getting his mind right and completely focused on the mission. He'd been so distracted by the situation with the battlesynth aboard that he was afraid he was approaching this half-cocked and that all the things he could have overlooked would get him and his friends killed.

"YOU KNOW THE DRILL, Doc," Jason said into the com. "Put her out in a holding pattern away from the city and tell Ground Control that you're doing a maintenance flight."

"Copy… we'll be waiting for your signal."

The Phoenix roared back into the sky after dropping Jason, Crusher, and Kage off near an industrial district. They'd dipped and slowed, using the transit beam to get them and their gear to the ground before the authorities had a chance to ask why a ship was attempting to land in an unauthorized area. They hit the ground hard as it had been just a little over the maximum altitude the beam would work at.

As planned, they'd inserted at night at a time that the biological workforce in the area would be at a minimum. There were still aliens milling about, largely ignoring them since commercial delivery vehicles used a similar type of transit beam, but it was a reduced workforce mostly there to babysit the factories' automated systems.

"You like that one?" Kage asked, indicating a generic-looking wheeled vehicle parked near a loading dock.

"Yeah… it looks like it won't be missed anytime soon," Jason said. "Go ahead and get started and we'll keep watch."

"I like that we're starting this mission by stealing someone's vehicle," Crusher said enthusiastically.

"I’m not above a little petty thievery to keep in practice." Jason shrugged. "This is less risky than trying to pay for one anonymously near a spaceport or renting one. I'm not sure the ConFed team will know that they're in a race with us or not, but no point in taking unnecessary risks."

The commercial vehicle was one of the ubiquitous electric-drive, wheeled types that were on every planet, even those that were wealthy enough to utilize repulsor aircars. This particular one had a large cargo box attached to the frame behind the six-passenger cab. Kage bypassed its security lockouts with ease and within minutes was in the driver's seat and rolling towards Jason and Crusher.

"You called for a pickup?"

"Good job," Crusher said, tossing his gear into the rear cab and climbing in after it. "Let's roll."

The drive from the northern industrial district to the residential area Venda Seh's home was located in would take four hours since they were limited by the vehicle’s speed and needed to stick to the indirect surface roads. Jason had swapped seats and was driving so that Kage could access the local nexus and begin gathering intel on their target as they went. From what he had been able to find, Venda had been very careful about leaving a minimal footprint on Thalia.

Jason was worried they'd be spotted or that Venda would spook and disappear on them. He'd hidden from the ConFed this long, so it was plausible that he had escape plans in place that would quickly take him out of their sight and beyond their ability to find him again. The one hope he had was that the family they were assuming existed would slow him down enough for them to approach and convince him that they weren't a threat and to trust them. Given the amount of ConFed firepower converging on their position, Jason would have no choice but to go for a quick extraction and get Venda to safety where he could be more thoroughly debriefed.

"Captain, we have a ConFed warship entering the system," Doc said over the open channel. "The chatter from the ships in orbit is that it's an older battleship named the Solas. There's some talk of a system-wide quarantine being set up, but so far there's only the one battlewagon and her two escort ships."

"Keep me posted," Jason said. "Any word on our strike team?"

"Negative. They'll likely be inserting with one of Intel Section's civilian ships."

"Thanks for the heads-up," Jason said.

"How far out are we?" Crusher asked through a yawn.

"Less than an hour to go," Jason said. "We'll make it there just as the sun is coming up. This is less than optimal assuming that there will be an increase in civilian traffic around that time."

The rest of the trip passed in silence right until Jason rolled the now-conspicuous vehicle down into the narrow streets of the community Venda Seh lived in. Just as Kage identified the multi-family dwelling, a sleek aircar swooped down and they watched as eight black-clad beings dove from the open doors and began taking up position around the residence.

"Damnit! Hold on!" Jason mashed the accelerator and aimed the lumbering truck right for the aircar that was still hovering just half a meter off the ground.

"What are you doing?!" Crusher yelled.

"Denying the enemy." Jason grinned. The aircar had not only brought the team here but was obviously going to be their method of exfiltration once they grabbed Venda. The pilot was too focused on the building and looked up too late as the truck closed in enough to set off a proximity alert. Before they could climb or dodge out of the way, the heavy truck slammed into the tail section, crumpling the drive and powerplant and sending the failing aircar skidding across the ground where it hit two members of the strike team that were slower than their comrades.

"Neat," Crusher grunted and kicked the door so hard it flew out of the frame and landed fifteen meters away. Before the rest of the ConFed team could figure out if the impact was an attack or an accident, the big warrior opened up with two massive plasma rifles. He had to sacrifice accuracy for speed as he was trying to keep any of them from returning fire while Jason and Kage took up position, but he still managed to take out two more. "Four more left!"

Jason rolled out of the driver's seat and ran full tilt to the wreckage of the aircar while Crusher laid down cover fire. He quickly drew a bead on two targets that were helpfully standing in a line relative to his position. When he caressed the trigger the railgun's hypersonic round nearly tore both operators in half. The two remaining members of the doomed strike team turned to run, intent on getting around the side of the building to use it as cover. Switching to low-velocity mode, Jason abandoned his own cover and gave chase so that they wouldn't have the time to stop and set up an ambush.

While Crusher followed after him, Kage ran up to the multi-family dwelling and began working on the security system for the outer door. Jason rounded the corner of the building, his speed surprising the enemy operatives, and took down one more with a quick burst as they were in the process of planting an anti-personnel mine on the exterior wall. The last remaining member of the team was stunned to the point of inaction, giving Jason the opportunity to close the distance and slam a boot into its chest.

"I really did expect much more from a ConFed strike team… your reputation isn't all that well-deserved, apparently," Jason said.

"ConFed strike team?" The being on the ground laughed and spit bright purple blood out onto the ground. "We're not ConFed, you moron… we're private contractors here to extract the family before the ConFed gets here."

Jason looked at Crusher with a slightly sick expression. "Oops," he said.

"You killed my whole team before even asking who we were? What sort of—"

An explosion near the front of the building cut off whatever it was saying. Jason wheeled and looked up as pieces of the truck they'd arrived in began raining down onto the neighboring buildings.

"Damn," Jason muttered.

"The element of surprise can be a fickle mistress," Crusher said sagely while stepping out of the way of the bigger chunks. "Just think if you hadn't killed all these guys… they could have helped us out."

Jason looked at his friend and debated shooting him in the foot, but now they would really need all the help they could get. In the distance he could see two assault shuttles coming down towards them, obviously the ConFed troops they were expecting.

"So… no hard feelings?" Jason asked the alien still sprawled on the ground. It took one look at Crusher and then seemed to shrug, wobbling its head side to side.

"It's not like they were my friends," it said. "But I think I'll go ahead and make a discreet exit seeing as how you're about to try and fight off an entire strike team with two people."

As it turned out, it wasn't a ConFed strike team that the shuttles were bringing in. It was two. Both craft stopped a few hundred meters away and began disgorging troops, twenty in total. Jason lined up on the lead craft, switched over to max-velocity on his weapon, and fired three shots. At least two shots hit the shuttle on the nose and it seemed to turn inside out as the hypersonic penetrators tore through the alloy. The small ship exploded, breaking windows and sending some of the slower troops tumbling like ragdolls. The second shuttle pilot was no dummy and yanked his ship over and around a building before Jason could line up another shot.

"We're in," Kage said. "For all the damn good it'll do."

"Let's move," Jason said. "Rig the entryway and then let's get to the Seh family."

"Another last stand," Crusher complained as he began pulling out explosives to prepare a nice surprise for the first breaching team.

"THAT'S SIX SHIPS TOTAL, the Solas and five heavy cruisers," Twingo said. "Eight if you count the Solas's support ships."

"So much for the ConFed opting for a discreet interdiction," Doc muttered. "This much Fleet muscle over this backwater planet is going to get people talking."

"I don't think they care anymore," Twingo argued. "The nexus feeds are clogged with news about the attack on the Eshquarians. This would barely make a blip on the sensors right now."

"Oh, no," Doc said. "Look up the specs we have in the database for the Solas."

It took Twingo a moment to figure out the interface at the copilot station, eventually being able to pull up the ship's name from the database Omega Force maintained on known capital ships.

"So the Solas is not really a battleship, they've just classified her as such because of size and the fact she's the only remaining vessel in a class that was retired from service over seventy years ago," Twingo read from the entry. "The ship is actually a heavy bombardment cruiser meant to… oh, that's not good."

"That's what I was afraid of," Doc said. "That ship isn't here to contain the system or they wouldn't have needed to bring in five other cruisers. It's likely here as a failsafe: If the strike teams fail, that ship will burn the city to the ground."

"They wouldn't dare—"

"Twingo, the ConFed Council just authorized the invasion of a neighboring sovereign power that they were trading partners with! You think they'll suddenly get squeamish about leveling a single city on some unimportant planet with no military of its own?"

"So if the captain succeeds, that means everyone dies?" Twingo asked rhetorically. "I'll make the call. They'll need to—"

"Did you just cycle the rear ramp?"

"What? No! What the hell?" Twingo looked around to where the battlesynth had been standing near the bridge entrance. It was now gone. "Uh, oh… you don't think—" He left the question dangling.

"If he did, there's nothing we can do about it now," Doc said grimly. "We're orbiting five hundred kilometers out from shore over an ocean. Close the ramp back up and let the captain know the situation … I'd probably omit the fact Lucky may have jumped from a ship ten thousand meters in the air for the time being."

CHAPTER 23

"—BATTLESHIP THAT'S MOVED into orbit is specialized for surface bombardment! If that strike team fails, it looks like the Fleet is going to take out the whole city to make sure Venda doesn't escape."

"SO WHAT ARE we supposed to do?" Jason asked. "Just let them take his family? It's likely that ship has orders to sanitize the planet no matter what happens here."

"I'm just making sure you have all the information available," Twingo said. "I'm not suggesting anything."

"Fine… thanks," Jason said. "Start working your way towards us. We'll need an extraction from this location no matter what since these assholes blew up our truck."

"We still a go?" Crusher asked.

They'd made it up to the third floor, east wing where the family lived. Kage confirmed that four beings were still in there by slicing into the building's security system, but now they weren't sure what to do. Venda was likely barricaded inside and now they'd effectively trapped themselves inside the building. They'd set traps and fortifications as best they could, but they still had to get inside the residence.

"Yes," Jason said firmly. "Leaving this family to the jackals won't help matters, and I'm not convinced that ship won't fire on this city no matter what happens."

"That's a big risk to take, Captain," Kage said. "If they were just going to glass the surface, why send the teams down at all?"

"Confirmation of the target," Crusher said. "Once Venda is confirmed to be on-site, the ship likely has orders to open fire. You don't move a piece of ordnance like that into position as a backup plan… you put it there because you plan to use it."

"You don't think there's a chance they want this guy alive?" Jason asked, now hesitant.

"No," Crusher said firmly. "You don't send this sort of force for an extraction. They're here to overwhelm any security he may have in place. They also probably don't know that as soon as they confirm the package that battlewagon is going to open up and kill them too. They're completely expendable."

"Let's try to get inside and then go over the finer points of this," Kage said, looking at the feed from the micro-drones he'd put aloft outside to watch the approaches. "They're getting closer."

"Let's just keep this simple," Jason said. He removed his helmet and jogged down the short corridor to the residence's main entrance. He held down the call button and looked up into the camera over the door. "Venda Seh, my name is—"

"I recognize you," a voice came over the speaker. "You're really the one it sent after me?"

"I… don't know what you're referring to," Jason said. "I'm here to try and get you and your family to safety. There's a ConFed strike team, two of them actually, and they're converging on this building."

There was a pause and then the door slid open. Jason shrugged to his friends and then walked in, greeted by an alien he, too, recognized even as distracted as he was by the large-bore plasma pistol that had been shoved in his face.

"Talk!"

"You're the captain from that ConFed battleship," Jason said. "The one that gave us fuel after chasing us to that ancient relic."

"Why are you here?" The pistol lowered fractionally.

"Like I said—"

"Why are you really here? Who sent you?" Venda became more agitated as Kage and Crusher slunk into the room and closed the door.

"A Kheprian intelligence operative named Alocur has been tracking you," Jason said slowly. "He thinks you may have some clue as to who or what is behind the takeover of the ConFed Council. He wants to bring you in and debrief you."

"Oh, I know what's behind it," Venda laughed humorlessly. "Kheprian, huh? Makes sense. They're in this up to their—" An explosion sent a hard jolt through the building and set off a whole slew of automated alarms.

"That was the mine I planted at the rear entrance," Kage said. "The breaching teams are to the building."

"I paid a private security firm to extract us," Venda said. "I sent the signal over an hour ago when I received word we'd been compromised. Where are they?"

"I didn't see anybody," Jason said. "Crusher?"

"Nope… nobody."

"Damn amateurs," Venda snarled before looking back at Jason. "It would appear that I am at your mercy given who is on their way up. Can you actually get my family out of here safely?"

"The odds are long, but we can do it," Jason said. "How secure is this place?"

"I had it customized when it was being built," Venda said. "The walls are armored as are the ingress points. There's only one door and the windows are hardened."

"That's both good and bad," Crusher said. "One way in gives us a natural chokepoint, but there's also only one way out."

"We have a hatch to get on the roof that doesn't appear in any of the structural records," Venda said. "But there's no way down from there."

"Understood," Jason said. "Kage?"

"That first blast has made them regroup," Kage said. "They've split into three teams and are covering all the exits. It looks like they're going to carefully check the rest of the doors before trying to make entry."

"Start harassing them with your little drone bombs," Jason said. "Crusher and I will go out and try to engage them individually while you stay here and monitor things. Get a hold of Doc and tell him to get his ass here now. We won't have time to try to reposition and wait for pickup."

Once back out in the corridor, Jason stuffed his helmet back down on his head and activated the armor. There was a shimmering effect as it came up to full power and then the effect dissipated.

"Is that what I think it is?" Crusher asked.

"If you think it's active shielding based on the same principle that our ship's shields work on, then yes… it is," Jason said.

Crusher pulled a blade and jabbed at it experimentally, watching as the shields flared and resisted the knife. "That has potential," he said. "So… what's the plan?"

"Let's go down a floor and try to get into one of the units facing the main street," Jason said. "We can pick a few off from the window and then reposition. Let's just stick and move and keep them guessing while waiting for the Phoenix."

They made it to the second floor just as another jolt shook the building. People could be heard screaming and running from their homes. The building housed nine individual residences over three floors and three wings, so the odds of civilian casualties had increased now that some of them appeared to be trying to escape.

The unit that Jason wanted to get into was hanging wide open as the residents had left in such a hurry they hadn't bothered to lock up after themselves. The pair wasted no time in getting to the front-facing window in time to see the team by the entrance roughing up everyone leaving, restraining them and tossing them into the yellow and green vegetation that covered the ground. He motioned for Crusher to carve a couple of gun ports into the transparent composite material that the windows were made of. The blade sunk in with a hiss and Crusher was able to make two oval ports without the troops on the ground seeing him.

"I'll watch the door," the big warrior said quietly. "Your weapon is more suited to this type of work." Jason nodded and switched back to low-velocity mode so he didn’t frag the civilians that were restrained nearby. He was pleasantly surprised the strike team wasn't just killing them as they exited given some of their other handiwork he'd witnessed over the years.

He lined up a shot on the soldier nearest the door, waited until a non-combatant cleared out of the way, and squeezed the trigger. The body hadn’t even hit the ground when he quickly moved and dropped two more before they were able to see where the incoming originated from and return fire. Jason dove backwards as a dozen plasma bolts ripped through the window and into the residence.

"Heads up!" Jason called, crawling back to the door. "They'll be sending someone up." Crusher just nodded and tossed a stun grenade down the stairwell before moving back away, following Jason further down the corridor. "Doc, what's your ETA?"

"Fourteen minutes."

"You have to do better," Jason said.

Whump! The stunner went off and Jason could hear three distinct voices cry out in pain. They rushed the stairwell and opened fire on the three that had been coming up to dig them out of the second floor unit, killing them quickly. Before they could get back out of the well, a second fire-team came up behind the first, likely reacting to the grenade, and opened fire.

Jason's armor flared brilliantly as plasma bolts splashed across the active shielding. The suit did an admirable job keeping the plasma shots from impacting his suit, but the heat buildup was intense, far worse than anything Jason had experienced in his older powered armor. He opened fire with a long, sustained burst, shooting blind while the shielding was still flared and trying to dissipate the plasma shots. The result was immediate and dramatic. The incoming plasma bolts ceased as Jason's hardened projectiles tore into the three soldiers jammed up at the bottom of the stairs. The ConFed team wore armor designed to be used against energy weapons and it did next to nothing to stop the rounds from the railgun.

"You okay?" Crusher asked, pulling Jason to his feet. "Ow, damn! Your suit is still smoking."

"Getting pinned down in a narrow stairwell wasn't the best thing for it," Jason admitted as the warnings scrolled across the inside of the visor. The power system had been taxed and the thermal overload had taken its toll on the shield emitters, lowering their efficiency to forty percent. "Kage, what're they doing?"

"Moving to cover the exits and bringing up heavy weaponeers," Kage said. "Stand by, I'm going to start hitting them with my drone bombs and keep them distracted. From what I can hear, they're assuming there's a lot more of us inside than there really are and they're hesitant to commit to one single charge."

"That's not going to last long," Jason said. "They'll come in force shortly, and when they do, we're well and truly screwed. Doc, where the hell are you?"

"Inbound," Doc's voice broke over the channel. "We have two more assault shuttles that are loitering in the area that will probably try to stop us."

"I don't need the details, I need you over the roof. Get it done," Jason said. "Kage, we're going to reposition on the opposite side of—"

"Captain… you, uh, might want to look out the front," Kage said in an odd tone.

Jason frowned and moved to where he could see out one of the narrow windows that lined the ends of the corridors.

"No fucking way."

Standing in the middle of the street, facing the building, was the battlesynth. It calmly surveyed the scene before its eyes flashed into brilliant crimson and the whine of charging weapons could be heard even inside the building. The troops around the building were quick to redeploy, but it was obvious they were confused as to what the hell this newcomer was and what its intentions were. They were screaming unintelligible commands at it while it stood rooted to the spot.

"Did it fall out of the ship?" Crusher asked, peering out through the other window.

"Doc, are you currently over the target?" Jason keyed his com.

"No… we're nearly there," Doc said.

"So you didn't come in and put the battlesynth on the street in front of this building?"

"What?! No… it's there?!"

"What the hell is going on, Doc?" Jason snapped.

"It … left … while we were in a holding pattern over the ocean," Doc said. "We didn't want to distract you with the news, and we had no way to try and recover it if it sank. Apparently it was on its way to you the whole time."

"Meaning that this model also has sustained flight modes," Jason said. "Now the million-credit question is what is it going to—holy shit!!" When two ConFed troops approached it the battlesynth leveled its four arm cannons, two per arm, and opened fire. The plasma bolts vaporized the enemy troops, leaving the smoking stumps of their lower legs as markers to where they fell.

"Is he on our side, or just killing anything that comes close?" Kage asked over the com.

"Either way, let's use it," Jason said. "Get the family up on the roof… we're on our way." He made it halfway up the steps before stopping. "Crusher, get up there and help Kage."

"Where are you going?" Crusher demanded.

"I… I have to know," Jason said, the sounds of battle becoming more pronounced outside.

Crusher sighed and nodded. "Trade me weapons and I'll try to cover you from the roof the best I can," he said. Jason tossed him the railgun and caught the heavy plasma rifle with two extra power cells in the sling. "Go get him. Don't get dead!"

"Don't let Venda die!" Jason called over his shoulder. "I don't want this all to be for nothing."

Jason raced down to the first level and saw that the door was no longer being covered, but the civilians that hadn't been captured on the way out were still cowering in the dubious cover of the lobby. "GO! Get out through the back and get away from this place!" Jason shouted at them. When he emerged from the building, he could see that the ConFed troops had rallied their remaining numbers, sought cover, and were now laying down withering fire to bring the battlesynth down.

He absently noted that the battlesynth was protected by active shields before throwing a grenade at the troops clumped up behind what was left of the contractors' aircar. When it blew it killed two of them, forcing Jason to finish the third off with his rifle. The remaining troops that were coming at the battlesynth from opposing angles and overlapping their fire weren't like the others. There were six of them and the helmets were tall and narrow: a full Syatee brood, all six brothers.

Jason had thought he'd spotted the telltale head of one earlier but couldn't be sure. Syatee were fearsome fighters, but what made their family units so dangerous was that broods had a sort of telepathy with each other that allowed them to coordinate and attack as a single entity.

The one second from the right in that first group appears to be the brood leader.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jason demanded. "I could have used the help earlier."

There have been some issues. If you survive this encounter, we'll need to discuss them for both our sakes.

"Wonderful," Jason ground out as he opened up on the Syatee that Cas had indicated was the leader. His attack immediately drew the attention of the others, indicating that Cas was likely correct in its analysis, but now he had the problem of six broodmates coming at him at once. Their counterattack flared his shields and ruptured his weapon's plasma chamber. He barely had time to throw it away before it blew, but they still wouldn't let up.

Now free from the overlapping fields of fire, the battlesynth rocketed into the air and came down right in the midst of the second group. Jason saw that some sort of energy blades burst from its gauntlets, and it quickly went to work hacking through the three Syatee trying to swarm him. Jason turned back to his own fight, pulling his sidearm and rushing into the midst of the second group of three. They saw him coming and opened fire, the intensity of it causing his shields to flare, falter, and then fail altogether. Two power junctions blew out on the suit and he felt an icy sensation on his left leg where it burned him.

He slammed a boot into the chest of the first Syatee before firing at the leader, grazing his neck and causing him to dive for the ground, howling in pain. Jason went for a finishing shot but the third broodmate tackled him from the side, the force of the hit taking them both to the ground. Still he held on, though, trying to wrestle Jason's pistol away while the other two regained their feet. Jason released the pistol, surprising the Syatee and causing him to jerk off balance. While he tried to maintain control of the pistol and himself, Jason pulled a knife from a sheath on his thigh and plunged it into the Syatee's neck. He felt a prickling sensation in his side that blossomed into unimaginable pain, but he ignored it and concentrated on the Syatee he was engaged with.

While the alien gurgled and thrashed with the blade in his neck, Jason recovered his pistol and shot him in the head at close range. He looked up just in time to see that the other two still had their weapons trained on him while their dead broodmate's body had him pinned, one of them holding a needler. The nasty little weapon fired small, thin darts at high velocity that could penetrate most body armor. His dead shields and soft pressure suit had offered no resistance and he could feel the small projectiles tearing up his insides every time he moved.

"Any last—" The leader's head simply disappeared and Jason knew immediately that Crusher had made good on his promise of cover.

Too bad he couldn't do that before you were perforated by twenty-one needles.

The last Syatee seemed to waffle for a moment, undecided, when a single plasma bolt hit him in the chest and sent him flying. Jason craned his neck to see the battlesynth walking over. It grabbed the dead Syatee on top of him and tossed it off before offering its hand to help him up. Jason grabbed it hesitantly at first, but when he did the machine gently and smoothly pulled him back to his feet.

"Lucky? Is that you?"

The battlesynth stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. That simple gesture sent a flood of emotion through Jason despite the fact he'd still not spoken. He took a step backwards and the fire in his side from the needles flared up, causing him to grit his teeth.

"Captain?" Crusher asked over the channel.

"I'm good," Jason gasped. "We're good. On our way up. Make sure Doc knows those other shuttles are still out there."

"No, they're not," Kage said. "Once the last of the strike teams was routed, they broke off and climbed for orbit. I don't think they were here to engage, at least not after you downed one with a handheld weapon. They were only supposed to contain outbound traffic from this area."

"That's not good," Jason muttered. "Come on, Lucky… we need to get on the roof."

Lucky grabbed the back of Jason's tactical harness with his left hand and pointed up to the roof with his right. Not understanding at first, Jason made the mistake of agreeing before clarifying. "Yeah, we need to—AHHHHHH!!!"

Lucky fired his repulsors and picked Jason up by the harness, rocketing both of them up to the roof. Normally this would have been fine, actually preferable to hoofing it up the stairs, but with his injuries Jason almost blacked out from the pain. He landed gently on the roof, but his legs were rubber and wouldn't support his weight. Once he collapsed in a heap, he saw a giant boot step into his field of view.

"You lost one of my favorite guns."

"Shut the hell up, Crusher," Jason moaned. "Cas, can you do anything with this pain?"

Stand by.

"Who the hell is Cas?" Kage asked.

Oops.

"I didn't say 'Cas,'" Jason said. "I said 'My ass, can you do anything with this pain.' I was talking to myself."

"Did you suffer a head injury?" Kage asked after a moment.

"Can't rule it out," Jason said as the pain began to ebb away with Cas manipulating the receptors via the implant and his army of nanobots. "Where the hell is the ship?" Even as he said it, the sound of engines could be heard over the wail of alarms through the small community, but they weren't his engines.

"They just don't quit, do they?" Crusher growled.

"Who is it? Is that your ship?" Venda Seh asked, his family huddled near him.

"Kage, get them to cover," Jason said. "That's not our ride… that's the other team that's been hunting you and I don't think their goals align with yours of staying alive." The unusual transport that Chenyx Six flew descended out of the clouds on a direct course. Since the tracker had been removed, and it had taken them this long to catch up, Jason had to assume the merc crew was working for the ConFed.

"Doc, Jurg's crew just showed up," Jason said as he keyed his mic, but he couldn’t hear his own voice in the helmet. When his suit overloaded, it must have taken out the com. "Kage, let Doc know we have a hostile over the objective! Crusher, give me my weapon back."

Before Jason could bring the railgun to bear, the ship roared over the building, opening up with the forward cannons and ripping up a section of the roof near the edge of the east wing. It was obviously meant as a warning.

"Jurg is transmitting on an open channel," Crusher told him. "He's demanding we hand over the Seh family."

Jason didn't respond right away, trying to line up the quick little ship for a shot, but there was no way he could hit it while it was flying so erratically.

"Tell him to piss off and then tell Doc to hurry his ass up," Jason said before turning to Lucky. "You think you can give him a little surprise when he comes back for another run?"

Lucky nodded again and moved off apart from them. Jason could see the telltale shimmer of his shields coming back up.

"Now he's saying we only have a few minutes to hand them over before the ConFed opens up with that battleship," Crusher said. "He's making a deal to split the bounty with us, eighty/twenty."

"Tell him sixty/forty since we did most of the work for them already," Jason said, making a show of lowering his weapon and nodding to Lucky.

"Seventy/thirty? We get thirty?"

"Deal. Go ahead and toss your weapon down but make sure he knows the Phoenix is showing up soon. Probably."

Jason heard Crusher's profanity-laced response to lock in the deal and saw the transport swing about slowly, ceasing its evasive maneuvering. He was tempted to try and snap off a shot at it, but if he missed they'd be sitting right in the sights of its big guns. He stretched, feeling the tightness in his side, and discarded his now useless helmet along with the railgun.

"Here he comes," Crusher said. "He wants the family moved out and then us moved away."

"Too bad," Jason said. "Tell him we don't trust him to pay up and that we can just as easily make our own deal with the ConFed for them."

"He says we don't know his contact so it wouldn't do us any good," Crusher said.

Jason just smiled as they got Jurg to admit it was the ConFed that hired them. Likely Intel Section as they were famous for contracting outside help if for no other reason than plausible deniability. It also made it easier to kill off an inconvenient asset when they were nothing but grubby mercs or bounty hunters.

He held his breath as the transport moved in and settled to a hover fifty meters away from the rooftop. He could see Jurg pointing at him and gesturing to where Kage was with the family, looking agitated. Jason just smiled and shrugged, shaking his head. The merc captain stood up in his seat and could be seen shouting something, completely ignoring what he assumed was a programmable kill-bot milling around near the damaged section of roof.

"Now, Lucky!" Jason shouted. The words had barely left his lips when Lucky turned and fired his repulsors, flying in a shallow arc that landed him on the top of the transport with a clang. Jurg was looking about inside his bridge and shouting at his crew while Lucky wasted no time executing his plan. He ran to the starboard pontoon and opened fire with his cannons directly into the ship's engine. The emitters exploded in a flash of blue plasma and the ship began to list to the right and sink.

Jurg opened fire, but his guns were now trained at the sky as his ship spun away from the building and continued falling to the ground. The left engine was still operational so it didn't lose all lift capacity, but the asymmetrical gravimetric fields couldn't keep the boxy ship aloft and it was slowly spiraling downward.

The ship hit the ground so gently that it barely kicked up any dust. Jason heard Lucky firing a few more shots before he flew back up over the lip of the roof and landed near the Seh family. By the time Jason and Crusher got to the edge, the crew of the ship was already climbing out onto the dorsal surface.

"Burke! You coward!" Jurg screamed at him.

"Having a bit of engine trouble?" Jason called down, stepping back as one of the crew fired a plasma pistol at him. He just laughed and walked back while Jurg kept screaming insults, then switched to pleading.

"You can't leave us down here, Burke! That battleship is going to open fire any minutes Take me with you and I'll give you the entire bounty! Burke?!"

"Tell Doc to approach from the south side," Jason said to Crusher and waved everyone else over to him as the sound of the Phoenix finally arriving became louder and more pronounced. "Come on, everyone! We need to get the hell out of here before the Solas decides to do this the easy way."

By the time they were all filing up the ramp and into the ship, Kage warned him that the chatter over the com in orbit was that the Solas was descending into a parked position over top of them.

CHAPTER 24

"WHAT THE HELL were you doing?! I could have walked here faster than that!"

"THERE WERE—"

"Move!" Jason cut Doc off and moved into the pilot's seat. Whatever Cas was doing to mask the pain was becoming less effective, and he saw stars as he shifted his body and the needles dug in a little further. "Is everybody in and secured?"

"Yes!" Kage yelled as he ran onto the bridge and hopped into the copilot's seat. "We have to go now! Go, go, GO!"

Jason crammed the throttle to the stop just as proximity alarms began blaring and the sensors were washed out by a blinding light: The Solas had opened fire. The Phoenix roared off ahead of the pressure wave caused by the powerful orbital cannon hitting right in the middle of the city. The building they'd been over was on the outskirts, so they had a head start on the spreading destruction, but Jason didn't want to climb up higher and risk being picked up by the battleship's sensors.

"Kage, find me a big, sturdy building that's well outside the maximum effective radius of that weapon," he said, concentrating through the pain on keeping the big gunship skimming over the buildings. His right display showed a view from the rear of the ship, and all he could see coming at them was a wall of fire and debris. Knowing this was a heavily populated city made the bile rise in his throat. It was one thing to hear about the ConFed's new campaign of atrocities second-hand, but seeing the brutality up close was quite another.

"I see what you're thinking," Kage said, his four hands a blur on his control panels. "Stand by, I have a suitable site coming up. Fly to the indicators."

Jason angled over to starboard, keeping his bank shallow so he didn't shed off too much precious velocity. As it was, the ship was being pushed and buffeted by the leading edge of the shockwave, but they were already going as fast as he dared to push it so close to the surface. After a few minutes that seemed like a few hours, the wall of death began to flag and the flames gave way to billowing clouds of dirt and debris, allowing the Phoenix to shoot well ahead.

"There," Kage said, highlighting a building on Jason's display. For some reason he was having trouble integrating his neural implant into the ship. "It looks empty too… lucky us."

Jason could see that the massive structure was built out over the water and looked like a production facility for surface vessels. Given Thalia Prime's economic stature it was likely they still utilized oceangoing ships to move large cargo. The building appeared not to have any doors where it met up with the river that would eventually take ships out to sea, and the Phoenix's sensors weren't picking up any energy barriers.

"Verify dimensions."

"Verified," Kage said. "We'll fit with room to spare. Set an altitude of five meters off the water and you'll be fine."

After double-checking the hard limits he'd set into the computer, Jason quickly descended towards the river, pulling up hard to a stop and spinning the Phoenix about before using the thrusters to push her backwards into the cavernous building. Relying on the external video feeds, he eased her back as far as he could so that the nose was well out of sight from anyone looking down from orbit. He debated putting the gear down and landing but decided to lock the ship into a hover with the engines running so that they'd be able to act in an instant if they were spotted.

"Is this really a better idea than running?" Twingo asked.

"They'll be tracking ships that left the blast radius," Jason said. "And those other cruisers will be identifying everything leaving and intercepting anything that looks suspicious. We'll wait here until they move on."

"They may sterilize this whole system," Crusher said. "They can't afford any ships leaving and telling about this."

"I believe they can," a new voice said from the bridge entrance. Venda Seh walked in on shaky legs and looked at the monitors of Doc's station that were displaying remote images of the destruction. "I've been waiting all these years for it to find me, but I never realized how much danger I was putting my neighbors in. You should have surrendered me, Captain."

"It's a little late for that now," Jason said, not in the mood to be charitable after seeing the scope of the destruction wrought for this one person. "I just hope what you know is worth the lives given to get it."

"It's something we both know, Captain." Venda turned to Jason. "Do you know what the being that's taken control of the ConFed calls itself?"

"I don't," Jason said, dreading what he would hear next.

"It calls itself the Machine… and it's exactly what you fear it is."

Jason felt lightheaded and he released the controls of the Phoenix before he accidently put her into a wall. It couldn't be. He'd destroyed the Machine. If it was gone, crushed into oblivion, how could it be here, now, in this quadrant?

"IT REACHED out to us when you were still within the construct and we had just arrived at the edge of the system. At first it wanted us to come down and disable what you had done, but there was no way to traverse the system that quickly. After that it became … irrational … and demanded that we do something to save it, but it never really said what that should be."

"We were under the impression the Machine AI—which was actually just one of the AIs aboard the construct that had gone haywire—was destroyed," Jason said. "Lucky and I had gotten to its processing core and destroyed it. Once it was gone, we were able to leave. It had relinquished control on the station. From what I’m hearing now, that wasn't the case."

"From what we were able to tell after the fact, the first communications from it were a ruse to gain access to our systems," Venda said. "From there it uploaded itself into our computers in sections. Once you saved us from that other species and we fueled your ship and went our separate ways, we began to notice strange anomalies within our various subsystems, but they were so minor at first they were just written up and ignored. By the time we were pushing back into ConFed space, however, I knew that something was seriously wrong."

Jason, Venda, and Kage were sitting on the bridge while the others rested. The Phoenix was still sitting at idle, hovering within the building while the skies darkened from the airborne debris. It had been two full Thalian days since the attack, and during that time they'd been monitoring whatever com traffic they could to find out what might be happening outside. Three hours prior they'd begun hearing from search and rescue crews, so Jason assumed the ConFed ships had moved on. He planned to wait another five hours to be sure before emerging from hiding and pushing out of the system.

"When did you become aware that you had a stowaway?" Kage asked. His choice of words made Jason uncomfortably aware of the personality hitching a ride within his own head.

"When we arrived in Aracoria to refuel and make some provisional repairs before pushing on to Filban Major, it locked me in my quarters and began to… negotiate," Venda said. Aracoria was home to one of the ConFed’s largest production shipyards, but Filban Major was the hub for Fleet operations. If Venda took the Machine there, it would have jumping-off access to damn near anywhere within ConFed space.

"I was first threatened, and then I was given assurances. It told me that all it wanted to do was streamline the government for the benefit of all, that it was compelled to perform its task of organizing chaotic systems. It wanted me to be its representative in the military and told me that it had already begun the process of ensuring the compliance of those within key positions of the civilian government. At first, it didn't seem like a bad deal."

"I'll bet," Jason laughed mirthlessly. "But I can understand your position. If the system is already hopelessly corrupt, how much worse can a single actor make it, right?"

"That's generally what my thinking was," Venda admitted. "Then there was the fact that it already knew everything about my family and threatened to have them tortured to death if I refused. Then it showed me that it was already securing the resources to do so. It was terrifying how quickly it moved to consolidate its own power.

"We'd returned to port and I was finally able to get off the Matav, but the Machine was already busy infiltrating Filban Major's computer systems and propagating through the ConFed Unified Defense Grid. I tried to report the incident through the shipyard's maintenance system to see if the engineers could purge the alien presence, but it was too late. Worse still, the Machine knew I'd tried to stop it."

"So you decided to activate your emergency escape plan," Jason guessed.

"Indeed," Venda said. "I'd always assumed it would only be necessary should I accidentally cross some powerful Councilmember by killing one of their relatives in the line of duty, but I was happy I'd participated in the program nonetheless."

"So why does the Machine want you dead? It just wiped out an entire city to get to you," Kage said. "Do you know of some vulnerability?"

"Nothing of a technical nature," Venda said. "Well, not really. I know that it can only exist on certain types of computers in this region. The core aboard the Matav was the latest quantum-type from Khepri, and even it was only barely suitable. It can easily reach out through connected systems, but it can only exist as a sentient being on processing cores that are compatible with itself."

This is true.

"The biggest threat I am to the Machine is that I know that it is, essentially, a piece of software," Venda continued. "It has quickly and decisively secured power through fear and bribes, playing the puppet master while everyone assumes this is just the normal ebb and flow of power within the Core Worlds. If people were to learn that the sudden brutal shift in policies was being driven by a corrupt bit of programming? I don't think it would take long before the Machine found itself purged. It is for these things I know, that nobody else does, that I think this Alocur you spoke of has been pursuing me. Either that or I have willingly played into a trap."

"Where do you think it actually resides right now?" Jason asked. "We did some checking… your old ship was decommissioned and scrapped."

"I couldn't possibly begin to guess," Venda said. "It's far too clever to have only a single copy of itself residing on an obvious system, and there are many of the new quantum cores being installed throughout the governmental systems."

Jason didn't respond. The shock of learning that the corrupted AI from the Machine had returned to ConFed space was wearing off and was now replaced with the dull ache of guilt. It wasn't just the guilt of having led the way to the infernal thing in the first place, but for allowing any ship to return and risk even the knowledge of the Ancients to make it back. Even now he was looking out the canopy at the aftermath of wholesale destruction and the slaughter of innocents because he'd taken action and denied the Machine something it wanted. Even hearing Venda's story he wasn't able to convince himself it had been worth it.

"I think we're clear, Captain," Kage said. "I've heard three different commercial ships deeper in the system talking about the ConFed battlegroup meshing out."

"We'd better get the hell out of here then." Jason slid his seat forward and locked it into position. "It won't be long before the damage control and containment teams are out here."

The suspended particulate in the air was still so heavy that Jason had to bring up the nav-hazard shields on the way out of the atmosphere. Kage busied himself with recording the atrocity with every sensor, from every angle. The higher they climbed, the worse it looked. Once they broke into black sky Jason flipped the display off and concentrated on flying to their mesh-out point. The lump of ice in his stomach had turned and was now burning white hot… someone would pay for this.

CHAPTER 25

"THE THALIA OPERATION WAS MESSY, but successful."

"I HAVE REVIEWED the sensor data from the Solas personally," the Machine said. "I am inclined to agree with you that our objectives have been met, though I'm disappointed that we have no physical proof. Even in the absence of that proof, however, it seems the Solas was able to eliminate two troublesome elements. With Venda Seh and Omega Force both dealt with, I am able to fully concentrate on the task at hand. We are on the verge of total success, Minister."

Scleesz said nothing. He had watched the sensor recordings too and his feelings about what he'd witnessed were vastly different than those of his boss.

"You have doubts?"

"No!" Scleesz said too quickly before recovering. "No, of course not."

"That's good," the voice purred. Audio was the only form of direct communication Scleesz had ever had with his new master. He was extremely curious about what species he could be other than "not from this quadrant," as he'd been told. Even the name gave no clues. The being that had become the de facto monarch of the ConFed had recently begun referring to himself as "the Machine," an obvious pseudonym.

"Have courage, Minister. You're far too important to lose faith now. With the Eshquarian Campaign concluded, there will be an upswell of protests and calls for talks… your job is to undermine those efforts. Understood?"

"I do," Scleesz said. "My staff is already out in front of it."

"I knew I picked the right person when I came to you," the Machine said. "You may leave."

"I've just realized you've never given me a title by which to address you," Scleesz said after floundering a bit, unsure what to say.

"But I have. I am the Machine."

"I would expect something more grandiose for a being that is poised to wrest control of the quadrants’ only superpower from its current government," Scleesz said.

"Titles and status are the conceit of all dictators, and often their downfall. Why should I care what I am called, or if I am even known, when the results are the same: I will be in control. I will be the nameless, faceless power behind the Council and the people ruled will be none the wiser for it. If you give them something to focus their anger and frustration on, they will organize and revolt. Lie to them and tell them that everything is just like it's always been and they'll never suspect the truth," the Machine said.

"But why Machine? It sounds so… industrial."

"Because… the ConFed is a machine, and I am the Confed. We're all but cogs in wheels that drive something greater than we ourselves could ever hope to be alone. Viewing things in this way provides clarity of purpose your previous forms of government have lacked.

"When we all do our part, the machine runs smoothly. To design. When one of those parts begins to wear or fails completely, the whole begins to fail to one degree or another. And what do you do with faulty parts in a machine, Minister?"

"You replace them after—"

"You rip them from the whole and discard them without a moment's hesitation or undue emotional attachment. Then you replace that part with something that can do the job equally well or better. It is in that way that the machine runs in perpetuity." The Machine fell silent as Scleesz digested what he'd just heard.

"Everything fails. Everything has a lifespan. Everything," Scleesz insisted.

"Only when those things are designed to fail," the Machine said calmly. "You, for example, have a finite life. Barring anything unforeseen, you could be expected to operate from sixty-five to one hundred years. This is not the way of all things. Some things are meant to last forever."

"I see," Scleesz said, unsure if he was being educated or threatened.

He left as quickly as his dignity would allow, what little of it he had left. He also wanted to be well clear of his boss before other uncomfortable questions came up. The Machine had been obsessed with finding this MIA Fleet captain who had commanded a battleship that wasn't even in service anymore. The amount of resources that were thrown at finding him was alarming… what did this captain know? Scleesz didn't dare reach out to his contacts in the intelligence community to try and find out. The Machine knew everything, seemed to be everywhere. If he began asking the wrong questions, he had no doubt his own untimely though deserving end would come sooner than later.

"THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE," Alocur breathed after Venda Seh finished his prepared briefing to the room.

"Believe it," Jason said. "I've had first-hand interactions with this Machine… it's ruthless."

The Phoenix had rendezvoused with one of Mok's heavy cruisers after leaving Thalia Prime so that Venda could tell his story to all the major players. During most of the slip-space flight Jason had been unconscious as Doc worked tirelessly to remove the needles from his body and allow him to heal from the considerable damage they’d done. When they arrived to the set coordinates they were hustled into the larger ship's hangar bay and then it meshed-out of the system almost immediately.

He looked around the table at the unlikely collection of beings, all brought together out of such extraordinary circumstances. Mok had been quiet during most of the briefing, while Alocur had been quite agitated at the news a sentient program was behind the ConFed's new direction. The person there that surprised him most, and whom he almost didn't recognize, was ConFed Councilman Scleesz. He'd had to be reminded by Crusher that he was the one who had arrived on the scene when they'd stopped Crisstof's First Son, who had been using Daddy's money to fund his own little revolution.

"So… what are we to do with this information?" Mok asked.

"This won't stop with one empire toppled and one city burned to the ground," Scleesz warned. "This … Machine … has plans to bring the entire quadrant to heel, and I think if it happens by force, all the better for him. There's a genuine sadistic streak behind his actions and I fear the suffering is only beginning."

"That doesn't answer my question," Mok said. "What are we, the individuals in this room, supposed to do about this? The Eshquarian Empire lasted less than three days against the ConFed. You can't seriously be considering we take it on?"

"Not directly," Alocur said. "But we are not normal soldiers, nor are we without means."

"You're talking about an underground," Jason said. "An insurrection."

"Precisely," Alocur said. "Asymmetrical warfare, as you so cleverly put it during one of our conversations, Captain Burke."

"I didn't make that term up." Jason waved off the compliment. "You all know better than I do what this entails. Is this really the path we want to go down?"

"It is no longer a matter of 'want,' young Captain," Scleesz said somberly. "And what of you? What are your thoughts?"

Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "I'm largely responsible for this thing being here," he said finally. "My choice has been made for me: I'll do what I can to stop it whether it's with you or some other resistance outfit. I haven't talked to my crew yet, so it may be just me and the Phoenix."

"Not a pair I'd bet against on any day," Alocur said. "I, too, am in. This has been my fight since before I knew what I was even fighting. Finding out what the enemy is has been both surprising and terrifying, but at least I now have a target."

"I will offer what support I can," Scleesz said. "Unfortunately, my closeness to the Machine makes me of limited use. I won't be able to risk meeting with you after this, but I will work to pass on information through intermediaries. We must be careful with what intel I provide, however, and resist the urge to act on every minor scrap. If the Machine suspects you have an inside source of information, it will not take him long to discover who it is, and I will be of little use with my head removed."

"The Eshquarian Empire was my home," Mok said. "I had hoped to one day return there when I was old and no longer of any concern to the new generation in power. I believe my organization can be of great use, but we will need to be careful as the Councilman said… if I am suspected and the ConFed moves against the syndicate in force, it will be a short, pointless fight."

"Are we in agreement?" Scleesz asked.

"I believe we are," Mok said. "We fight."

Jason stood when the rest of them did, his heart racing. The coming days would be dark and dangerous, but the feeling of having a purpose so great was intoxicating. He was careful not to speak for the rest of the crew, but he was fairly certain what their choice would be given the alternative.

"I DON'T THINK we have a choice," Crusher said when Jason presented his case later that evening. They were all sitting on the back ramp of the Phoenix, still inside the hangar bay of Mok's cruiser. "Galvetor is a tiny, independent system. They're at great risk if the ConFed decides it might like to have some Galvetic conscripts in the ranks."

"Ver is a single planet, but at least it's a member world," Kage said. "Not much of note other than a population that has bred itself into a dangerous situation if food imports stop, but I don't like the idea of them being subject to the whims of a psychotic bit of software."

"What about you, Captain?" Doc asked. "Earth is still aligned with the Cridal Cooperative, and we've heard no noises from within the ConFed that they wish to change their arrangement with them."

"Yet," Jason corrected. "It's coming. The Machine is smart. You can't do too much, too soon. He'll let his propaganda ministers go to work to both smooth over the fears after the Eshquarian invasion and to set up the public for the next conquest. Thankfully, that gives us time to try and undermine it.

"I hope everyone realizes we'll need to cut ties with the civilian world for a while. We'll head back to S'Tora and settle our affairs, but if we're to be an operational asset of this resistance movement, having a permanent base and houses might be problematic. I think it would be better if we rolled our assets into some sort of legal protection that took our names off of it and leave home for the time being if for no other reason than to protect the locals."

"Agreed," Twingo said. "Looks like it's back to living aboard the ship."

That statement was met with a chorus of groans and profanity. The insults had really begun to fly when Alocur approached them from the opposite side of the hangar.

"You'd asked to see me, Captain?"

"Walk with me," Jason said, leaving his crew to their amusements. "I just wanted to touch base with you before we pulled chocks and ask what you were really doing tracking my guys and raiding secret Kheprian military labs."

"It was as I said… at first," Alocur admitted. "I would present evidence that someone within the Ministry had illegally restarted the battlesynth program and it would mean prestige and advancement. The more I dug, the more alarmed I became. Once I realized that there was something new working behind the scenes and that the Ministry may have been compromised, the mission switched to deny the enemy.

"I feel I was proven right. Could you imagine the Machine with a whole army of next generation battlesynths?"

Jason shuddered before answering. "You don't think it might have been pushing Khepri to restart the program because it wants to put itself into a corporeal body, do you?" he asked.

"That had not occurred to us." Alocur looked greatly troubled by the prospect. "I will enquire whether that's even a remote possibility. If it is, the danger won't be over because we managed to shut down a single research facility."

"Agreed," Jason said. "I'll travel to Terranovus as agreed and speak with the remaining members of Lot 700. As soon as I have an answer from them, I'll get in contact."

"Thank you, Captain." Alocur placed a hand on Jason's shoulder in the traditional pru manner of saying goodbye. "For everything you've done."

That wouldn't work, if you're actually serious about that last concern.

"What wouldn’t?" Jason asked aloud.

The Machine's program is incompatible with the Kheprian processing matrix technology they use in synths. Knowing it the way I do, I can also tell you that it's far more comfortable being able to flit between systems than being tied down to a single body that could be destroyed.

"Good to know," Jason said and ambled back towards the Phoenix.

CHAPTER 26

"HOW ARE YOU FEELING?"

"MY SPEECH SUBROUTINES ARE NORMALIZING," Lucky said. "It is becoming easier to speak without having to think of each word individually."

"So you're really back?" Jason asked. "Not to sound …well … you know what I mean."

"I am your friend, Lucky," the battlesynth insisted. "I have all of my memories including the last thing I remembered of you being dragged away and up an exhaust vent. I still suffer from moments of confusion, but they are becoming less frequent. I fear the experience of dying and my subsequent rebirth will have changed me once I have fully reintegrated, but at my core I am still Combat Unit 777."

"It seems like your new body has some new tricks the other one didn't," Jason said. "The smaller, sleeker design seems to fit you better."

"I will admit that I am enjoying not looming over people or inducing fear by my mere presence," Lucky said. "I can sense many other abilities hidden within it but so far am unable to consciously control them. My flight modes were found out of necessity. Maybe it will be the same with the others."

"I'm sorry for taking so long to come around. When we lost you the first time, Crusher and I didn't take it too well—"

"I have heard."

"—and the thought of getting my hopes up just to have you taken away again was more than I felt I could handle."

"There is no need to apologize. When I first regained consciousness, the sheer chaos of strange inputs, a different body, and no sense of how much time had passed very nearly drove me insane. Once I began to regain control of these things, I could recognize your voice and focus on it when you were near. The sound of it coaxed out memories of my old life and once that happened, it opened a floodgate that allowed my higher functions to reassert themselves. It took some time to sort it out, but I feel the worst is behind me."

"I'm just happy to be able to sit here and talk to you again, buddy." Jason's voice was thick with emotion. "We'll work on it together."

Since Lucky had helped them on Thalia it had been a steady progression with each day getting a little better than the one before it. Alocur's people and Cas had both warned him that the battlesynth wouldn't be exactly like his old friend had been if for no other reason than the emotional trauma he'd been through, but Jason didn't care. The Lucky that had saved his life on Khepri by sacrificing his own hadn't been the same person that had emerged from the stasis pod all those years ago when they first met. All that mattered was that the family was whole again and that they would all be there to help their friend when he needed them to.

Jason left Lucky in the galley, aware that he'd been a little selfish with the time he'd been spending with him, and walked back up to the bridge to relieve Kage. The little voice in his head had fallen silent again, but only after imparting some unpleasant news to him. The unpacking and repacking of the Legacy from his neural implant had caused some issues with both the implant and the archive. Cas had told him he would need to get the thing out of his head or the side-effects could become serious.

Now he had quite the dilemma.

Right now the Legacy was safely hidden in his head. If he transferred it to an external medium, it would no longer be possible for it to be one hundred percent secure. With the revelation that the Machine was in ConFed space and in a position of power, did Jason dare remove the archive for fear the Machine might get it? The plans for the actual Machine, the star-chewing super-weapon, were in there… how could he risk exposing that to daylight?

The alternative? The Legacy would keep "leaking," for lack of a better term, and wreak havoc with his neural implant to the point that it could become debilitating. Simply switching off the implant wasn't a practical option, and removing it altogether to replace it just brought up the same issue as before: Should he risk having the Legacy out where it could be captured, or destroy it altogether?

"You look like someone who has a lot on their mind," Kage said as he grabbed his stuff to leave the bridge.

"Just processing everything that happened," Jason said. "Glad to have Lucky back, but still not sure how to put what happened on Thalia Prime into context."

"You'll figure it out," Kage said over his shoulder. "You always do."

You have some time. The serious symptoms won't start for over a year by my estimate, and there's a chance the Legacy stabilizes and what we fear never comes to pass.

"Would you take that risk?"

I would give this matter the thought and consideration it deserves… and I'm not just saying that because it's my ass on the line too.

He spent the rest of his watch restless. His fears of what to do with the unimaginable power he had stored in his head, the emotions that were coming out at the prospect of going back to war and doing so as a member of a small insurgency that was trying to topple a superpower… he had been an NCO in the Air Force, for Christ's sake, he wasn't equipped to make these sorts of decisions. If he chose or executed poorly, the ramifications were now on a scale he couldn't even wrap his head around.

By the time Doc strolled up with a steaming mug of coffee to replace him, he still hadn't found any answers, but he felt like he had found some level of peace with his new lot in life. He would do the best he could and focus on each mission as it came and, hopefully, when the war was over or he was dead, he wouldn't be remembered as a total fuckup. In his line of work that was about the best anybody could ask for.

ALSO BY JOSHUA DALZELE

Thank you for reading Omega Force: Legends Never Die.

If you enjoyed the story, Captain Burke and the guys will be back in:

Omega Force: Rebellion.

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(Continue on for a word from the author…)

AFTERWORD

CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS QUIRKY, goofy series is now ten books long?!

WHEN I first wrote Omega Rising in 2012 I would have never—not in my wildest dreams—thought that it would spawn a series that is not only so dear to my own heart, but apparently to a lot of yours as well judging by the letters I get. I know this will sound cliché, but you'll never know how much it means to me when people take the time to reach out and say they've liked something of mine, this series in particular.

SO … where are we now after 10? Lucky is back, sort of. This was a tricky thing to attempt and my initial instinct when I was outlining books 9-12 was to leave Lucky dead. By the end of book 9 I knew that I wouldn't be able to continue the series without him and I didn't want to just replace him with another battlesynth. The challenge was to bring him back in such a way that didn't cheapen his sacrifice to save Jason in "Revolution." If his brain had just been slapped into a new body and he'd popped off the table as if nothing happened it would have negated everything our characters had gone through in the previous book.

THANKS again for all the support. I'll keep this series going for as long as there's a demand … still plenty of stories waiting to be told with these idiots.

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

Also by Joshua Dalzele

Afterword