The Hyperion War

STELLAR DATE: 04.06.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Calgary Stellar Refinery

REGION: InnerSol, Sol Space Federation

Sol burned beneath Williams’ feet.

The Force Recon Orbital Drop Marines had always joked that someday they’d be boots down to the Sun, and though the lieutenant colonel had always been curious what that would look like, any such desire was now well sated.

<Your heart rate is up,> noted Aaron, the AI he’d shared his brainspace with for the past five years. <This too much for you?>

<I’ve dropped more times than I can count,> the Marine replied. <Safely hit station, dirt, or the drink each time. I’ll manage this one too.>

<Sure, but those times, you could be recovered from a miss.> The AI’s tone held a mischievous note. <Sol’s a different beast. We miss our mark, and that’s it. No do-overs.>

Aaron wasn’t wrong. Even dropping toward a gas giant wasn’t as alarming. At least their outer atmospheres weren’t prepared to burn you to a cinder, and would slow your descent. Sol’s mass was such that it just kept pulling and pulling, accelerating a body—such as his—through the void until it was moving at a far greater velocity than anyone was comfortable with without the hull of a starship around them.

<You’re treating this like you’re not in here too,> Williams said. <Sol’ll eat you alive just as soon as it will me.>

<I’ve got an emergency eject.>

<Right.>

As much as the Marine wanted to look away from the raging star beneath his feet, that was not so easily done. His target—the 8th Battalion’s target—was a starlifting refinery only a light second above the stellar surface. At that distance, the inferno’s surface formed a horizon not unlike being at high altitude within Earth’s atmosphere.

Alarms blared on his armor, and Williams’s head snapped to the right. Magnetic flux fields were strengthening around the edge of a sunspot, wreaking havoc with his instrumentation.

<We gonna make it before that thing snaps?> he asked Aaron.

the AI sounded worried. <If it goes….>

Williams nodded. <Yeah, I know what will happen.> He switched to all-battalion. <OK, people, Sol’s about to get all testy with us. Tighten the formation. We’re thirty seconds from boots on Calgary, and I want every one of you bastards there with me.>

A flood of confirmations lit up the channel, but he waited for the company captains to confirm their Marines were in the pipe before acknowledging the updates.

Drawing a deep breath, he looked down, barely able to make out their target against the sun’s glare.

At a thousand kilometers across, Calgary was larger than Ceres, though instead of a planetoid, the facility was a diamond disk, dozens of kilometers thick at its center, ringed with ramscoops that drew in stellar materials and filtered the desirable elements into refining facilities dotting its surface.

The idea that this station—if that word even fit—essentially surfed through the plasma and solar winds streaming off the sun was mind-boggling. And yet, humans lived and worked here—and did things that required TSF Marines to drop in and set them straight.

<Shit, there it goes!> Aaron announced.

Williams sucked in a breath as the sunspot gouted plasma into space in a flare that raced up the magnetic lines, more energy than the entire TSF spaceforce could emit blasting into space and curving back around to the sun’s surface.

So long as the magnetic field held, the emission would return to the star, but should the lines snap, the ionized gas would spray into space.

He looked away and back at Calgary’s growing disk. Ten more seconds.

Then the lines snapped.

Magnetic fields twisted and writhed across a million kilometers, shifting EM radiation and blinding Williams’s armor’s sensors. The sharp taste of blood entered his mouth, and the lieutenant colonel realized he’d bitten his lip.

Fuck.

<We’ve slewed off course,> Aaron reported as the magnetic fields passed over them, diminishing in strength.

Williams ignored the AI in his head, instead attempting to reach out to Mars. <Marsala, is everyone still on target?>

<No,> she replied. <I’ve lost contact with seventeen Marines, and another sixty-one are going to miss the target.>

<Can they adjust course?> he demanded. <I’m not losing seventy-eight fucking people before boots hit.>

<Yes,> she said, and relief flooded his mind. <You’re one of them, by the way, though Aaron says you’ll just barely make the edge of the disk.>

Williams had already seen that on his HUD, but concern for himself always trailed that for his Marines. <Keep trying them. I don’t want to lose anyone.>

Aaron said in a quiet voice.

The lieutenant colonel didn’t respond, instead dispatching a quick message to eleven Marines who had been knocked too far off course to reach Calgary. Sol would mark their graves.

He’d barely sent it when the disk below him filled his view, and the boosters attached to his calves fired on full, braking his fall at the last second. The impact jarred him as much from the remaining v as the station’s angular momentum.

Calgary literally screamed across the sun’s surface, its extreme velocity necessary to maintain an extremely low orbit. Even so, the force pulling his body down was a hair over three gs. Even Williams’s fully powered armor couldn’t mask the fact that he felt as though he was moving through sludge.

<Sitrep,> he demanded on the command net, and his three company commanders listed their force dispersions and a few injuries on top of the Marines who didn’t make it to the platform.

While that information poured in, Williams surveyed his surroundings. On his right were the kilometer-tall ramscoops positioned around the edge of the diamond disk that made most of Calgary’s mass. Black carbon soot was everywhere; evidence that even diamond could turn to ash under continual assault by a star.

<There’s a maglev a kilometer that way,> Aaron flagged a direction on Williams’s HUD. <You’re four hundred klicks from the command center, so you’re gonna want to get a move on.>

The lieutenant colonel nodded absently while sending out a few drones before he began to jog in the train’s direction. Most of his attention was on the battalion.

While more than a few Marines were spread out across Calgary’s surface, most had hit near the command center and formed up into their companies, with breaching operations already underway.

Not like my commanders really need me, he mused. Especially with Mars and Major Grenwald on site.

In all honesty, especially with his botched landing, Williams had to admit he was more of a liability than an asset.

Not like that’s gonna stop me from seeing some action.

* * * * *

A kinetic round whipped past Lieutenant Colonel Williams’s head, and he spun, dropping to a knee, and fired indiscriminately. The shots from his rifle tore into the bulkhead, tracing a line to the corner, where they punched through the metal, eliciting a scream from the other side.

<I’m falling back,> he informed Mars while rising and tossing out a handful of microdrones.

<Need a hand?> the 8th Battalion’s AI asked.

Williams turned his focus back to the scouting drones only to be interrupted by Aaron’s sigh.

<Then why weren’t you?> he grunted in annoyance.

<Oh, you know, just dealing with the massive network fight Mars and I are waging against Calgary’s internal defenses.>

Williams laughed. <Then you don’t need to feel defensive about me managing the drones.>

The tiny machines shot through the vacuum and surveyed the area, stopping at the attacker who was now lying on his back with biofoam spilling out of the hole in his armor’s side.

The lieutenant colonel tapped into the station’s general network, his suit’s NSAI hopping across nodes till it locked onto the Link signal closest to him.

<Stay down,> he instructed the man. <You know…unless you want to stay down forever.>

No response came, and Williams nudged the fallen enemy with his boot.

Aaron said. <Looks like he’s breathing, though.>

Williams knelt and dropped an armor lock onto the man’s neck. <Better safe than sorry. Dude can’t shoot for shit, but that doesn’t mean I want him taking pot shots at my backside.>

<Would you even notice?> Aaron asked with a laugh. <Your hide’s so thick, it would take more than a few kinetic rounds to get through.>

<Has anyone ever told you that you’re the corps’ funniest AI?> Williams said as he rose.

<No.>

<Exactly.>

The AI gave a derisive snort. <They tell me I’m Sol System’s funniest AI.>

The AI placed an overlay on Williams’s HUD showing the 8th’s progress through the command center. <We’re making good time. We should have the main guns down in ten minutes. Then the rest of the 242 can board, and we’ll clean this place up.>

The lieutenant colonel gave a curt nod and resumed his trek to the station’s command center. General Tobias would be pleased at the battalion’s progress.

The old man—or old AI—hadn’t said as much, but something in his demeanor had led Williams to believe that Tobias wanted to wrap up this engagement as quickly as possible.

It was an oddity of the Weapon Born AIs that, despite being ancient beings, they seemed more…human than later generations of AIs like Aaron and Mars. He wasn’t sure if that was due to their origins, or perhaps the fact that they’d just learned how to blend in with organics after over a thousand years of doing so.

Either way, the past five years serving under General Tobias had been strange to say the least. It was almost like the 242 had become a private military, operating at the discretion of Tobias and, behind the scenes, Harm Ellis.

If Williams had been told years ago that he’d be in this sort of situation, he would have considered leaving the corps, but past expectations did not match his current reality. To put it simply, Tobias and Harm had the Marines fighting battles that mattered—not simply protecting the assets of the wealthy from people seeking to line their own pockets.

Every conflict they participated in had been strategically selected to promote stability in the Sol System, and far more often than not, the 242 won the day.

Despite his division’s success, the lieutenant colonel couldn’t help but worry that the system as a whole was sliding further and further into chaos.

After Sedna, the Jovians had seceded from the federation. Luckily, though a faction of the Scattered Disk still claimed independence as the Free Disk Alliance, the majority of Diskers had sided with InnerSol against the Jovians.

It was a smart move, in Williams’s opinion. Jove was the real threat to Sol, and one far too powerful to allow unfettered access to stellar resources.

And that was what had brought his Marines to Calgary. Even after the SSF had passed legislation banning delivery of stellar materials to the Jovians, Calgary’s owners had continued to do so.

And so here we are.

He shook his head, focusing once again on his surroundings, clearing another cross corridor with his drones before moving deeper into the station.

<Onada’s ‘toon has reached the control center,> Mars reported, and Williams picked up the pace, wanting to be there for the station commander’s surrender.

Normally, he traveled with at least a few members of his HQ company, but he’d landed on one of the station’s heat shields, a long ways from his target, and had been hoofing it for over twenty minutes at this point.

<There’s a shaft up ahead on your right,> Aaron advised. <It’ll be a shortcut.>

<Hey, my brain’s in your head. Trust me, I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t the safest and fastest route.>

Williams shrugged and stopped next to the shaft’s access panel. The AI wasn’t lying, but over their five years together, the lieutenant colonel had come to realize that Aaron considered his host’s body to be relatively expendable—at least in part. The sentiment made sense, and Marines were highly modded already, but it still didn’t mean he was OK with getting shot up.

With the panel removed, he tossed in another batch of microdrones, and waited for them to clear the shaft. They identified a turret halfway up and disabled it.

<Thought it was safe,> he chided Aaron.

The Marine laughed to himself. He supposed it wasn’t wise to count on the AI to do his job for him; physical safety was his responsibility, after all.

The shaft was wide enough to maneuver easily, and he made it to the top in just a few minutes. Once there, he fed a nanofilament through the panel to examine the corridor beyond.

A pair of enemy soldiers was moving past, and once they were a few meters down the passage, Williams quietly removed the panel and leant out, firing several rounds at one and then the other.

His shots hit the first enemy, but the second dove out of the way, only taking slug in the shoulder. She came up a second later, returning fire, which Williams blocked with the access panel he still held.

<You need help, LC?> Perez’s familiar drawl reached Williams’s mind, and he checked his HUD.

<Uh…just running a sweep.>

<Alone?>

Williams groaned and sent an affirmative.

Perez had made it all the way up to lieutenant, a record in the Marine’s sixty-four years in the corps, and though his performance had improved, he still did things that made Williams think he wanted to be busted back down to enlisted.

But despite Perez’s attempts to divest himself of any and all responsibility, Williams had made it his personal mission to ensure that the Marine’s career only went in one direction—something that sometimes seemed impossible.

<Sir?> Perez sounded concerned.

<Yes! Help! What are you waiting for?>

Case in point.

The lieutenant responded with a laugh while Williams fired a few more shots around the side of the access panel. It wasn’t that he couldn’t climb out and rush the enemy soldier, but it would be a lot easier if Perez just did his job.

A few seconds later, the discharge of an electron beam lit up the passage, and Williams climbed out of the tube.

Perez stood over the body of the fallen enemy, and glanced up before shrugging.

<Yeah,> the Marine nodded and jerked his head. <Down to the left. I’ll follow after, make sure your old hide doesn’t get any more holes in it.>

<I’m shockingly hole-free.>

<Really? How do you—>

<Don’t,> Williams growled in warning.

A minute later, they reached an airlock and passed into a pressurized section of the station. The rest of the route to the command center was clear of enemies, thanks to a few Marine fireteams patrolling the passages. This section of the station was a lot cleaner than the outer areas—much less soot, which allowed for other Marines to utilize their stealth armor while he was covered in grime.

When Williams entered the command room, the first thing he saw was a view of the sun—shielded to keep from baking everyone—through a window on the far end of the space. Only a sliver of the blazing yellow-white arc was visible, plasma streaming out and filling the rest of the display.

Inside the room were rows of consoles, several occupied by Marines, while other members of Onada’s platoon watched over the captives who were clustered to the right, sitting on the floor with their wrists cuffed behind their backs.

“Looks good up here, Lieutenant,” he said audibly. “Have they turned over the command overrides?”

Onada nodded to one of the women sitting against the bulkhead. “Stationmaster Sharla has been cooperative. They’re profiteers, not martyrs.”

“We’re just honoring our contracts,” Sharla muttered.

Williams pulled off his helmet, and walked toward the woman. “You’re a part of InnerSol. Stellar exports to Jovian space are forbidden. Your contracts are null and void. You know this, but decided to see if you could still skirt the law to make a buck.”

“Our company has facilities in Jovian space as well,” she replied. “This war is tearing our business apart.”

Williams couldn’t argue with that. After being in place for over a thousand years, the Sol Space Federation had made for a highly interconnected star system. With the federation falling apart, everything from families on up were finding themselves divided by invisible lines in the black.

“Well, now you don’t have to take the blame for shutting things down here. You can point the finger at the TSF.”

<Should I alert General Tobias of our success?> Mars asked.

<I’ll do it,> Williams replied. <Gotta earn my pay around here.>

<Pretty sure you manage that well enough,> the AI replied.

The lieutenant colonel snorted. <Ass kisser.>

Aaron had already connected to the station’s command net, so Williams piggybacked on that to tap into the main comm array. It was already aligned with the Normandy with an encrypted route in place.

<General Tobias,> he said upon connecting to the AI’s mind. <We’ve secured the command deck and most of the aired-up levels. Mars and Aaron have the defensive systems locked down, and the big guns are offline. You’re clear to join the party.>

<What? Really?> Williams blurted out, wishing he could wipe the sweat from his brow. <What about playing out the full assault?>

<We’ll have to do it in VR later, lad. New orders have come in. Things be heatin’ up in OuterSol. Once we’re all back aboard, we’ll be heading there.>

Williams gave a small snort of surprise. The assault on Calgary was a live simulation of an operation the battlegroup had been training to undertake in a few months. He had fully expected their next stop to be Venus for resupply before hitting the real Calgary.

<Really? OuterSol, not Inner?>

The lieutenant colonel gave a derisive laugh. <It’s almost like there isn’t an entire friggin’ TSF that could wage this war. Why is it always us?>

<What?> Tobias barked a laugh. <Are you telling me the 242nd can’t defeat the Jovians all on their own? Thought you were Marines.>

Williams bristled. <Them’s fightin’ words, General.>

<Good. Round up your troops and get ready to bring that fightin’ spirit to the Jovians.>

BLACK SITE

STELLAR DATE: 04.07.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Secret Enfield Base, Nibiru

REGION: Outer Disk, Sol Space Federation

The highly classified black site, code-named Arcane, was embedded deep inside Nibiru. It didn’t belong to the Sol Federation, nor did it belong to the Jovian Combine or the Free Disk. It was an Enfield facility, and few knew of its existence.

The shadowed figure that breached the outer access hatch did, though. The hackIt employed had been upgraded with this particular mission in mind. But that wasn’t the only one reason the trespasser's presence went unremarked by the facility’s crack security team.

The interloper slid past a vast anechoic chamber, where giant sections of hull plating were being tested for resistance to micrometeorite damage, as well as their ability to repel laser fire.

Past the sterile chambers where a multinodal AI awaited its pairing with the behemoth structure that would become his new home.

And past rows of offices, where engineers and physicists strove to meet deadlines imposed by the one leading the charge.

An access shaft adjoining a bank of lifts beckoned. The intruder crossed quickly on silent feet. Ascending to the desired level, the shaft’s occupant paused to assess the outer environment. A cloud of nano floated outward, an advance scout for the open passageway beyond.

A small group of technicians rounded the corner. They passed in front of the shaft, oblivious to the person inside, before moving into an adjacent passageway.

The uninvited guest clung to the shaft’s railing, listening to the voices fading in the distance. Satisfied they were no longer a factor, the intruder placed a hand along the seam of the accessway’s door.

It slid silently open, and the figure slipped through, only to freeze as a voice sounded behind him.

“Well, now, Harm. You should have told me you were coming. I would have met your vessel at the service hatch you latched onto.”

Harm let out a silent breath, annoyed beyond measure that once again, Lysander had bested him.

He turned and favored the tall, dark-haired Weapon Born leaning casually against the bulkhead with a frown. “One of these days, you’re going to teach me how you detect my presence.”

Lysander twitched his lips into a smile. “Oh, I think not,” he responded, straightening. “We Weapon Born need to keep a few things secret, even from our progeny.”

Harm allowed a scowl to show on his face. “We’re on the same side, in case you forgot. The TSF might think I’m Division 99, but surely I’ve proven by now that my goals are much broader than theirs.”

Lysander nodded slowly, expression thoughtful. “You’ve said as much, and so far, your actions have borne that out. But as you must know, I don’t trust easily; none of the original Weapon Born do.”

Harm held up his hands. “Believe me, after what I went through, I get it. I do.”

Lysander made an impatient sound. “Want to tell me why you’re here, Harm? Are you Harm, or are you one of the other seeds?”

Harm dropped his hands. “Harm’ll do.” He jerked his head in the direction of one of the base’s many conference rooms. “Can we do this somewhere more private?”

In lieu of an answer, Lysander gestured down the passageway. After a second’s hesitation, Harm nodded, turned, and led the way.

As the door to the conference room slid shut behind them, Harm released a cloud of nano to block any feeds from picking up on their conversation.

Lysander let out a gust of air. “That was unnecessary.”

Harm raised a brow. “You’re building a colony ship the likes of which the Sol System has only seen once before, plus a fleet to protect her. And you’re using newly developed, never-revealed Enfield tech to do it. You don’t think that calls for an overabundance of caution?”

Lysander leant against the conference table and crossed his arms. “I do,” he said, nodding his agreement. “But I also know that the nano you just released is about four generations older than what our security protocols here are using. Check it out for yourself if you don’t believe me; it’s already been neutralized.”

“No it hasn’t. I’d have been notif—Well, shit,” Harm muttered as he pinged the cloud and discovered that, although the nano appeared active, it had, indeed, been subverted.

“You’re telling me the base’s security neutralized it, and not you yourself?” he challenged, shooting the Weapon Born a skeptical look.

Lysander spread his hands. “I didn’t lift a finger against them, as they say,” he said.

Harm frowned, considering what that could mean for his operations throughout Sol.

That train of thought was brought to a halt when Lysander began questioning him.

“Are you going to tell me what brought you to the base, or are you going to be as elusive with that information as you were about your entrance?” the Weapon Born persisted.

Harm reminded himself that the person standing before him was not one of his agents. They’d struck a bargain, he and the Weapon Born, but the AI owed him nothing.

“I just wanted to stop by and see how things were progressing—”

His words were cut off by a sharp gesture from the other man.

“We’re five hundred AU from civilization of any substance,” Lysander countered. “How about leading with the truth for once?”

Harm winced internally. “Well, first, you didn’t let me finish. Second, it’s a bit difficult to run Division 99 and be transparent about things. It’s my job to conceal the truth.”

He reached for an encrypted data chit, and tossed it across the table. “I thought you should know how quickly things have been heating up since the SSF let the Jovians secede.”

Lysander easily caught the chit, his eyes not leaving Harm’s. He let the tiny disk roll across the backs of his knuckles in an intricate dance as he reviewed the file. “So the SSF has decided to take the fight to the JC,” he murmured finally.

Harm nodded. “Division 99 has been seeding the Cho with misinformation, leading them to believe we’ve taken a strong interest in Neptune. The brass thought with a bit of careful planning and some sleight-of-hand, we could use the distraction to drive hard for Saturn and take her.”

Lysander shot him a sharp look. “They did, did they? This is based on the intelligence you and your assets provided them?”

Harm gave a sharp nod.

“I see,” Lysander murmured. He frowned, studying the chit.

“I’ve advised the TSF that Tobias and the Normandy should lead the assault,” Harm continued. “I’ll have operatives on the inside, making sure the disinformation campaign is running hot, right up until we strike.”

Lysander’s head snapped up. “Does he know you’re planning to use Katelyn Evans for this disinformation campaign? That you intend to put her in harm’s way to accomplish this?”

Harm narrowed his eyes, wondering if the Weapon Born had used the phrase ‘harm’s way’ purposely, to get in a subtle dig. “Since when did you begin caring about Diskers?”

The hard look in Lysander’s eyes would have warned a lesser person away. “Since you showed up at that bar and dragged me out of retirement.”

Harm crossed his arms. “Not good enough. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t seen her since Sedna, five years ago.”

Lysander leant forward, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “Then try this on for size. Tobias and I consider her family.”

Harm felt genuine shock. He hadn’t seen this coming. “What in the hell for? She’s no relation to anyone in Phantom Blade. Her family’s from Sol, not El Dorado.”

Lysander bared his teeth, straightening. “It’s nice to see that even the infamous Harm Ellis can be caught flat-footed once in a while. You really don’t know, do you?” His voice was laced with amusement.

Irritation crashed through Harm. I don’t have time for this shit. “Care to enlighten me?” He asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

The Weapon Born just chuckled. “Ever wonder how Katelyn’s brother, Joe, got the assignment aboard the Intrepid? You should know your own history better, Agent Ellis. Think back, about a hundred years or so. Does the Seven Wonders incident on Venus ring a bell?”

Harm jerked back. The AI’s comment seemed to come completely out of left field.

He cast his mind back to a time when he was just starting his career, as a junior agent. “There was a terrorist attack at an amusement park….”

Lysander nodded. “Radicals held a bunch of kids hostage, and they were taken down by—”

“By some off-duty members of a private security firm…whose identities were never revealed,” Harm finished, sending Lysander a speculative look. “Phantom Blade, I presume. I thought you told me you never ran an operation inside Sol.”

The Weapon Born lifted a brow. “I didn’t. Terrance, Khela, and Jason were on vacation at the time. They were the ones who took that terrorist cell down—with a little help from a young teen named Joseph Evans.”

Harm whistled. “I never knew.”

Lysander shook his head. “We managed to keep it out of the press for the most part. Suffice it to say that Jason Andrews made a lasting impression on the young boy. He’s the reason Joe became a pilot.”

“And the reason Jason and Terrance chose him to join the Intrepid?” Harm guessed.

Lysander gave an easy shrug. “Joseph wasn’t the only person impressed that day. Terrance never forgot the youngster who kept his head under extreme pressure. When the time was right, he offered Joe a position. I hear he accepted immediately.”

Silence fell between the two. Harm studied the deck beneath his feet as turned over Lysander’s words in his head.

He grunted. “Small world.” He looked back up at the Weapon Born. “So you consider Katelyn family because an Evans has history with Jason?”

“Something like that.” The amusement was back in Lysander’s voice. “So, have you told him yet that you’re sending Katelyn in?”

“By ‘him’, I assume you mean Tobias?” Harm asked.

“And the other. Don’t expect either of them to be too pleased about this.”

Harm frowned. “She’s a capable agent in her own right. She doesn’t need someone to hold her hand. Besides, she’ll be perfectly safe. I have an agent on the inside who will keep an eye on her.”

“And we all know how well that works.” Lysander’s inflection was neutral, and Harm was unable to get an accurate gauge of his emotions.

“She can always turn down the assignment,” he pointed out.

Lysander scoffed. “You and I both know she won’t do that. Katelyn’s got an adventurous streak that rivals the one Jason had when he was her age.”

He turned to face the conference room table, his hands coming to rest atop the back of one of the chairs. Turning his head, he pierced Harm with a look.

“No,” he said after a moment, his tone thoughtful. “I have a better idea.”

Harm’s brows rose. “You do?” He crossed his arms, waiting to hear what the Weapon Born had to say.

“She’s not an L2, is she?” Lysander asked, turning back to face him. “She can pair with an AI?”

Harm nodded slowly. “She’s an L1. Why? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Two someones actually,” the other man murmured.

Harm smirked and tapped his temple. “You know only one of you will fit in there,” he remarked. “And anyone accompanying her is going to get captured and neutralized along with her.”

Lysander nodded. “That’s why I’m sending these two. One as a distraction, while the other will remain undetected.”

Harm’s brow creased. “I’m not following.”

Lysander tapped the chit against his lower lip, and then frowned. “Not my story to tell, I’m afraid. Just trust that we can pull it off. She’ll have two very capable warriors on her six, and that’s two more than you likely were planning on giving her for backup anyway, am I right?”

Harm hesitated. “The timing might not allow for it,” he warned. “Katelyn’s in Atlantis right now, wrapping up an operation. Cassie’s headed that way to fill her in.”

Lysander’s expression took on the look of someone trying to explain a simple concept to a rather slow child. “Fortunately, we AIs can handle greater acceleration than human bodies can. Logan and Landon can be there within the week.”

Harm raised his hands. “Look, if you’re willing to send in some of your own resources to back this play, I’m not going to stop you. Your decision, your people, your risk. But know this: if they fuck this up, there’s far more at stake here than one woman’s life.”

The chit flew across Lysander’s knuckles. He stared down at it, and a wry chuckle escaped his lips. He looked at Harm from under lowered brows. “You haven’t been privy to all the case reports from Phantom Blade’s exploits. Trust me; we know how to get ourselves out of tough situations. Moreover, these two will be able to help her validate the authenticity of her claim in a way she wouldn’t be able to otherwise.”

Harm cocked his head. “In what way?”

“I take it you’re planning to fit her with standard MICI protocols that render her resistant to Jovian interrogation nano?”

Harm nodded. “That’s the plan, yes.”

“She’s not one of your trained agents. She’s a Scattered Worlds merchanter who smuggles for you on the side. The JC knows this. Don’t you think they’ll be a bit suspicious if she shows up with a TSF-regulation anti-interrogation patch inserted into her Link?”

Harm crossed his arms. “They’ll just assume she’s a more valuable find than they thought. That’s all.”

Lysander shook his head. “A more convincing route would be to spoof the JC’s nano in a way that makes it seem she’s fallen under its influence. She’ll be able to ‘confirm the plan’ until Tobias’s rescue squad gets to her.”

Harm’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And you’re telling me these two can deactivate the nano without detection.”

A flash of impatience crossed Lysander’s face. “Enough. I’m calling the shots. They’ve already been notified. They’ll leave within the hour to rendezvous with the Bonanza at Atlantis.”

“About that,” Harm began, shifting uncomfortably, “I—”

A chime sounded, and Lysander held up a hand, pocketing the chit.

“Come,” he called out, and the door slid open to reveal a petite woman with a straight fall of blue-black hair, her hand resting on the head of a large, platinum-hued cat.

She strode forward, her movements those of a dancer—or a trained killer.

She greeted Harm with a tilt of her head and a smile that did not reach her eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” She came to a stop in front of him.

Her next words had him wheeling to stare at the Weapon Born in shock.

“I’m Khela Sakai.”

ANTIMATTER MACHIATTO

STELLAR DATE: 04.12.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Atlantis, Scattered Worlds

REGION: Sol Space Federation

Morning fog still clung to the lowest parts of the valleys on the manufactured world of Atlantis. The planet the Scattered Worlds Alliance had forged and then placed into Pluto’s former orbit was dotted with chains of archipelago islands covered in rolling hills and quaint valleys.

On this particular morning, the pastoral setting was shattered as a small ship rocketed through its springtime skies. Its terrain-hugging flight profile amplified the impression of speed for its pilot and lone passenger.

Katelyn heard Joel, her comm officer, suck in a loud breath as she flipped them into a knife edge. Their cradles swung sharply as she sent the little vessel shooting through a narrow gap between two tall trees.

The man beside her made another gasping sound as she leveled the ship and then pulled back on the stick, popping them up above the forest canopy.

“Seriously, do you have a death wish? Because I’m kind of thinking you have a death wish.” Joel rattled off the words in an adrenaline-fueled, rapid-fire cadence. “That’d be a really good explanation for the kamikaze-like maneuvers you’re doing right now.”

Katelyn smirked, but didn’t bother to reply, her full attention on the twisting pathway before her. She skimmed the treetops for another few kilometers before dipping low into a valley that ran along the outskirts of Santorini, Atlantis’s main industrial city.

She was flying dark, in a craft specifically outfitted for stealth. She’d turned off all IFF transponders, and had a nano sheath encasing the ship, ready to spoof any scan into believing she was nothing more than a random flock of birds.

“It’s called flying nap-of-the-earth,” she explained. “Just a bit of added insurance. If the TSF report is wrong and the Free Diskers have better equipment than what they told us they have, then keeping us this close to the surface should make our sensor return indistinguishable from all the ground clutter.”

Joel grunted, clearly not agreeing with her methods.

“Hey, a little gratitude here,” she said lightly. “This is a lot of extra effort I’m going through to make sure we remain undetected. Plus, you’re insulting my piloting skills.”

A quick glance over at him confirmed he had a white-knuckled death-grip on his seat.

She looked back up at the main holodisplay just as her HUD warned her of an obstacle up ahead. A quick twitch of her hand sent them slaloming around a large stand of pines just in time. The maneuver shot them out of the tree cover and into a sun-dappled glade.

“Y–you just keep your eyes on th–the-the path, there,” Joel stammered, loosening one hand long enough to gesture to the front holodisplay.

Katelyn grinned and did as he asked, giving up on any attempt to reassure him. Her eyes swept the terrain before them. The part of her mind that wasn’t dedicated to keeping them from going splat against the tree trunks made note of the stunning view.

The countryside was bright with color. White-barked aspens dotted the hillside, their leaves shimmering and dancing in the breeze. The occasional fruit tree boasted colorful pink and white blossoms, and the clearing sported the fresh yellow-green of grasses recently awakened from their dormant states.

Katelyn promised herself that, once they landed, she’d take a moment to enjoy the fresh air. Just a single moment, before the reality of their mission crashed down upon her.

The vessel shuddered as it passed low over a river, the differential in the air currents bumping the ship in a washboard-like effect.

Joel sucked in another sharp breath, and slapped his hands onto the console in front of him, bracing himself.

“We’re fine,” she assured him. “Just a mild bit of chop. Don’t forget to breathe,” she teased.

Joel laughed, a shaky sound. “Oh yeah, right. That.”

Katelyn lapsed back into silence. They were almost to their destination, and she wanted to get as close as they reasonably could without being caught.

Focusing her attention on the forward-scout drones leading the ship, she spied the perfect spot, and banked the little craft, pointing the nose in that direction.

The treetops parted as the clearing came into view. She dipped the nose, and the terrain came up toward them at dizzying speed. Flaring just meters above the grassy clearing, she used thrusters to nudge the vessel toward the bare trunks of nearby pines. Thick, green boughs sprouted twelve meters above them, providing dense cover.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” She cut the thrusters, and the ship came to rest gently on a bed of dried needles. Quickly, she went through the sequence to shut the vessel down, leaving on only those systems that wouldn’t easily be picked up on scan.

“On a scale of one to oh-shit, I’d give that a solid holy-mother-of-all-CMEs,” Joel muttered, unstrapping from his cradle. “In case you were wondering, that’s a helluva lot higher on the oh-shit scale than ‘oh shit’.”

Smirking, she stood and stretched, fingers brushing the cockpit’s overhead. A flight like the one she’d just completed always left her feeling energized. Fortunately, there was plenty more mission left for her to burn off all the excess energy.

She focused her attention on the nano surrounding the ship, and directed it to swoop down into the valley below, where a grouping of warehouses stood. Her mind on its feed, she moved out of the cockpit and into the cramped cabin area in the ship’s aft section. She’d reached the hatch before she realized Joel hadn’t followed her.

She sent the man a questioning look. “Coming?”

“Hell yeah, I’m coming,” he said.

She suppressed a grin at the alacrity with which he rose and made his way to her.

As he passed by, she caught his muttered, “And I think I might walk back to town, too.”

She snorted, but didn’t otherwise comment.

Palming the hatch open, she took a moment to savor the crisp, cool air. Reaching into the storage locker just aft of the hatch, she grabbed the backpack she’d stowed, shouldered it, and then hopped to the ground.

“ ‘Go with Katelyn to Atlantis’, they said. ‘It'll be fun’, they said,” Joel mocked under his breath, swinging his backpack over one shoulder and following her out of the hatch.

Once free of the vessel, he eyed the clearing as if he expected Free Diskers to come popping out at any moment.

Switching to the Link, she asked, <You ready?>

<Hang on a sec,> he replied, concentrating on the ship’s hatch.

As the team’s comm officer, Joel was a bit of a tech whiz. He manipulated the stealth tech with ease, sealing the ship and securing it. The ship would now respond only to her personal token or Joel’s. All other attempts would be met with an escalating level of force equal to that being used to try to breach its systems.

Once he’d completed the task, Katelyn caught his eye, and pointed across the clearing. <Warehouses are just past that ridge. Scan isn't picking up anything, but let’s keep to the trees, just in case. Better to be safe.>

Joel arched a brow. <Oh, now she talks about safety.>

She gave his backpack a little shove. <We were perfectly safe the entire time, and you know it.>

<Yeah, I'd just like to have a bit more air between me and the ground,> he sent.

<What, in case a rogue tree jumps up and smacks us out of the sky?> she retorted.

She grinned and shook her head, hand trailing along the surface of the vessel as she rounded its nose. The plan was for them to pretend to be locals, out for a springtime afternoon hike. They’d filled their backpacks with things typical hikers would carry with them: water pouches, protein bars, even telescoping hikers’ poles.

The poles themselves hid a spare lightwand each, plus a few other things Joel had labeled as ‘spy gadgets’. There were hackIts, small canisters of breach nano, and each handle also hid a pair of grenades—left for frag, right for sticky. Everything was encased in a stealth coating that returned a standard signal under active scan. They were a gift from Harm, as was her latest body mod.

Katelyn caught herself fingering the release on her upper thigh where the lightwand had recently been implanted. She jerked her hand away. She had no idea why it unnerved her a bit to have most of her leg replaced.

She’d managed to pass all the psych exams, both before and after the surgery. It felt no different than the leg she’d been born with, and intellectually, she knew she could have it replaced in a few hours with a biomimetic clone of her original limb. Still, in the back of her brain, she was kind of freaked about it—though not enough to stop using the thing.

If she found herself in need of a weapon, she was damn sure going to reach for it.

The walk was a scant half-kilometer, and within a matter of minutes, they were at the tree line, the terrain dropping a few meters beyond. They could see the buildings, their flat-topped roofs gleaming white in the morning light from Atlantis’s artificial fusion sun, Thera.

Katelyn came to a stop behind a large, rocky outcropping, the boulders hiding the warehouses below from view.

<This is as good a place as any,> she told Joel as she set her backpack on top of a soft bed of pine needles. She lowered herself to the ground, legs crossed, resting her back against the sun-warmed rock.

Settled, she flipped control of the nanocloud onto their shared connection, and handed the reins over to Joel. He dropped onto the ground beside her, acknowledging the handoff with a brief nod.

In the next instant, the feed coming from the cloud changed as the tiny devices went swooping down the hillside, the warehouses appearing to rush toward her as they neared.

Joel encased the buildings in a loose hemisphere and then ordered the cloud to slowly advance. Katelyn studied the telemetry, waiting for any indication they’d tripped security set up by the warehouses’ owners.

Joel was good at what he did; the cloud encountered nothing that their advanced countersurveillance program couldn’t easily master.

While he mapped the warehouses’ security, Katelyn dug into her pack and pulled out a hiker's canteen filled with water.

<Good idea,> Joel sent, fishing in his backpack for his own bottle.

Her brows lifted when she saw what it contained. <Really? You couldn't go a half day without caffeine?>

<Hey,> Joel protested. <Iced coffee is very refreshing.>

Settling his bottle aside, he pulled out a cylinder, roughly thirty centimeters long and ten in diameter, and waggled it at her.

<Why should I deprive myself,> he asked, <when it's so easy to bring it with me?>

Katelyn leaned forward, peering curiously at the device. <What is that?>

<Compact espresso maker, made for camping,> he informed her smugly.

He twisted the top of the cylinder, and it broke apart. When he tilted the smaller of the two pieces toward her, she could make out a pile of dark beans, their slightly oily sheen causing them to glint in the sunlight.

<Peruvian Black Devil,> he proclaimed proudly. <Dark roast, fresh out of stasis, directly from the forests of New Moldavia on Mars.>

Katelyn shook her head in disbelief. she said with a laugh.

<Glamping?> Joel's brows drew forward as he tried to parse her meaning.

<Actually, I'm not sure the word applies to hiking,> Katelyn admitted. <It's something Ma used to say to us kids when we begged to go camping. She hated to rough it, claimed she'd only do it if we went glamping. The word's kind of an oxymoron, you know? A mashup of 'glamorous' and 'camping'. I have no idea where she came up with it, though.>

<Well, I guess in this situation, the word would be ‘gliking’.> Joel grinned at her. <Glamorous hiking. I like it,> he declared.

She cocked her head, looking curiously at the alleged espresso maker. <Does that thing froth milk, too?>

Joel looked back at her in horror, grabbing his chest dramatically. <Why would you desecrate the bean in such a way? This is pure espresso! Connoisseurs would never cloud the taste with a foreign substance.>

She sent him a mental snort. <Connoisseurs? You mean addicts.>

Joel shot her an affronted look. he scolded. <Don't tell me how to grind a dark roast.>

<Touché,> she sent, lifting a hand to wave off his protest.

After a long pull of his iced coffee, Joel sat up. <Okay, then. Manifest says we’re looking for Thundering Pines Warehouse Seven. That’s this building here,> Joel told her, highlighting their target.

He directed the nanocloud to close on the building.

<I’m sending them in through the air filtration system.>

She watched as he fit words to actions, the perspective changing as they dove steeply through ventilation shafts, and into the dimly-lit interiors of the cavernous warehouse.

<Setting the ones I left outside on auto, so we can concentrate on the ones inside,> Joel informed her. <It’ll go faster if we split up. I’ll take half the cloud and start at the north end. Can you start on the south?>

She nodded her agreement, and he handed her the tokens to control the nano he’d parceled off for her.

It was a prudent move. Joel wasn’t an L1 human like Katelyn was. With the increased number of nodes that ran along the axons of her nervous system, her mind processed information a bit faster than he could as a standard L0 human.

Her unique brain structure allowed her to do something L0s couldn’t: multitask. What most people called multitasking really wasn’t; it was serial unitasking. Although some were adept at rapidly switching their focus between several individual things, for Katelyn, it was unnecessary. She actually could keep tabs on several things at the same time.

She wasn’t as good at it as an L2, but then again, L2s couldn’t pair with an AI.

She didn’t really believe the rumors that Enfield Corp had managed to do exactly that. Still, she was glad her ma hadn’t opted to artificially alter her brain chemistry in vitro to give her L2 capabilities.

She’d always wanted to experience what it would be like to have an AI partner. So far, she’d either not found the right person, or circumstances hadn’t allowed her to pursue it.

That’s a riddle for future Katelyn. Get your head in the game right now, girl.

Together, she and Joel scanned each row of stacked crates, systematically searching for anything that might fit the description of the package they’d been sent to retrieve. The nanocloud under her control registered textiles from Venus, and perishables in stasis from some of the floating Kuiper farms, but nothing that met the criteria they sought.

<I’m coming up empty,> she told Joel. <You?>

Joel shook his head, sipping his iced coffee. <Nada.> He straightened. <Wait, I might have something.>

A secondary window popped up on her HUD. She selected it, and it enlarged.

<Well, well, well,> she murmured. <What do we have here?>

The container was small, nestled between a carton labeled ‘pork rinds’ and another that claimed to be packed with drill bits. The surface code embedded in the container’s seal declared it to be from a notable jeweler on High Terra.

The name alone would have been enough to explain away the extra security the container boasted. The jeweler was renowned for making one-of-a-kind pieces from precious metals and gemstones.

<Want me to take it?> he asked, and Katelyn gladly handed the task over to the comm officer’s deft hands.

The security on the container would have fooled standard SWSF scans, but they were no match for the decryption algorithm provided by Harm.

With the first layer stripped away, a secondary layer of security bearing the seal of the Jovian Combine could be clearly seen.

<Careful,> Katelyn warned. <We don’t want to trip anything.>

Joel shot her an ‘oh, please’ look.

<Remember how I said I don’t tell you how to fly like a maniac?> He interlaced his fingers, and flexed his hands palms-out, a cocky grin on his face. <Just sit back, watch, and be amazed.>

He slipped neatly past the container’s safeguards, defusing a destruct protocol that would have cratered half the planet. Within minutes, the lid popped open, and they got their first view of its contents.

Katelyn’s lips firmed into a flat line. <Well, at least we know our intel was correct.>

<Yeah.> The bravado had leached from Joel’s mental tone the moment the magnetic bottle came into view. <So now what do we do?>

A ping from the nanocloud monitoring the outside area caught their attention. Katelyn accepted the feed and saw a transport vehicle turn onto a curving roadway a few kilometers away. The road dead-ended at the warehouses, so unless the occupants were lost, they were about to have company.

<We have movement,> she told Joel, sitting up abruptly. She tossed him the feed, and then capped her water and returned it to her backpack.

She sent the passel of nano cautiously forward, mindful that the conveyance could be shrouded by countersurveillance. If they were Jakobsen’s people, or free agents working for the FDA, that was a given.

The cloud closed to within two meters without tripping any alarms. Katelyn decided that was close enough for their purposes. It paced alongside the transport, passive scan easily capturing the soundwaves the passengers made as their voices bounced off the hard surface of the plas windows.

“I don't know about this,” Katelyn heard one of the men in the back say nervously as he spared a glance at their leader.

“Aw, come on,” the man on his left jabbed him in the side with an elbow. “Don't tell me you’re afraid of a little antimatter.”

The man turned and glared at his companion. “You do know what happens if that magnetic bottle fails, right? We go boom, and so does everything in a thousand-kilometer radius.” He shoved the man’s arm away. “You don’t jack with antimatter, asshole. Any idiot knows that.”

“Quiet!” the woman in front snapped, and then launched into a blistering lecture.

Katelyn muted the audio. She’d heard enough.

<Come on,> she told Joel, rolling to her feet. <We need to get down there and grab it before they do.>

Joel scrambled to his feet, shooting a glance down the hill. <We planning on just walking up to them, posing as hikers?>

Katelyn shook her head, shrugging out of her hiking gear to reveal the shimmersuit underneath.

Intuiting her intention, Joel began to do the same.

she confirmed. <Then we get the hell out of there as fast as we can.>

<You don’t have to sell me on the get-the-hell-out part. I’m convinced,> Joel replied, stuffing his clothes into his pack.

Hoods up, and their backpacks’ nano-coated surfaces tuned to match the shimmersuits’ stealth, they traversed the hillside in large hops. Atlantis’s slightly lower gravity gave them an advantage they wouldn’t have had on a standard one-g world.

They hit the base of the hill, and raced toward Warehouse Seven, with Katelyn monitoring the progress of the transport as they approached its back entrance.

“Once we get there,” she heard the woman in the front of the vehicle say, “I need one of you to go to the front office and find the warehouse manager, an AI named Grady. HQ gave a us a shit-ton of intel, but they left out which one of those buildings the cursed thing’s located in.”

Thank stars for that, Katelyn thought as they came to a stop in front of the warehouse door. I’ll take every little advantage we can get.

She waited while Joel dropped a passel of breach nano on the keypad. The feed from the transport showed it turning into the open lot that fronted the buildings.

As the pair entered the warehouse, an icon popped up on Katelyn’s overlay, letting her know that a connection to the warehouse network was available. She ignored it.

Following the locator pin Joel had dropped on her HUD, she turned down the nearest aisle and headed in the direction of the container that held the antimatter.

Joel caught up with her and snagged her elbow. <Hold up. Considering our visitors out there, shouldn't we report in? I can piggyback off of the warehouse network, and get us an encrypted connection to the Bonanza.>

Katelyn paused, considering his words. A part of her was reluctant to do so. She’d be damned if she was going to go running to her big brother to bail her out of a situation that she was perfectly capable of extracting them from on her own.

But then she reconsidered.

She turned back down the aisle, and a few seconds later, felt the mental presence of her brother, Dom.

She shook her head. <It's a quick grab. Joel already bypassed the case’s security, we're in the building, and the Free Diskers are several steps behind us. It shouldn't be a factor. Thanks, though,> she added belatedly.

The connection winked out just as she drew to a stop in front of the container.

With Joel’s nanocloud having done the hard work, all she had to do was grab the bottle and run. Still, she hesitated.

Bottle in hand, she stared down at it, and then glanced thoughtfully over at Joel.

he said, expression wary.

Katelyn smirked, her eyes dropping from his face to the straps of the backpack slung over his shoulder.

she said, extending her hand.

Cautiously, Joel unslung his pack and began to pass it to her.

<That fancy espresso machine you carry around,> Katelyn began. <It's about the same size as—>

The backpack was whisked away just as it brushed her fingers.

<Ohhhh no you don't.> Joel's eyes narrowed. <Do you have any idea how many credits that thing cost me?>

One eyebrow cocked up. <You gonna personally guarantee that?>

<Yeah,> she assured him with more confidence than she felt. <Now come on, gimme. We don’t have a lot of time, remember?>

Reluctantly, he held the backpack within her reach, and she unsealed it. Hefting the espresso machine in her left hand, and the cylinder that contained the magnetic bottle in her right, she compared the two.

It wouldn’t hold up under intense scrutiny, but if the Free Diskers were lazy and didn’t conduct anything but a cursory visual scan of the box’s contents, it just might work.

She thrust the magnetic bottle toward Joel. He hastily backpedaled, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

<Look, if that thing fails, it's not going to matter if it's in your backpack or mine. Besides,> she added pointedly, <who do you think is going to take better care of it?>

The speed with which Joel reached out and grabbed it from her should have offended Katelyn.

She hid a grin and turned back to the crate, slipping Joel’s espresso cylinder into the indentation where the magnetic bottle had been cradled.

Sealing the lid once more, she turned back to Joel. The man was looking noticeably paler.

Gesturing to the container, she asked, <Can you reset its security locks so it doesn't look like it's been tampered with?>

He swallowed and gave her a quick nod.

While he worked, her mental eye returned to the surveillance feed from the nanocloud that was shadowing their unwelcome visitors. They had just exited the first warehouse with a new person in tow. She assumed it was Grady, the warehouse manager.

<They're on the move,> she told Joel, spinning and striding back down the aisle toward the door.

<Almost done,> he replied. <Just a few more seconds….>

Light spilled in, illuminating the warehouse as the large front doors were thrown open.

<Joel,> she hissed. <We need to go. Now!>

<Fine, fine!> He backed away from the case, hands held high.

They raced for the back door to the sound of footsteps echoing down the aisle they’d just vacated. Katelyn palmed the back door, but backpedaled fast as she came face to face with one of the Diskers ordered to case the outside of the building.

She bumped into Joel, who hissed a mental warning behind her.

<Careful! Don’t forget what I’ve got strapped to my back!>

<Company,> she sent.

She turned to urge him back a few meters to give the newcomer space, and sucked in a breath when she saw Joel’s exposed face.

<Your hood!> she growled, grabbing the balaclava-like material and tugging it down over his face, and then whirling back to face the Disker.

She berated herself for forgetting that Joel had a tendency to shove items off his head so that he could run his hands through his hair whenever he was concentrating on something. Fortunately, no harm had come of it.

The Disker’s startled expression revealed he hadn’t expected for the door to open, but it showed none of the suspicion or aggression that might indicate the man had spotted them. Instead, a look of curiosity crossed his face, and he ducked his head inside to peer around.

<Greeeeeat>, she groaned. <Guy wants to rubberneck, and he’s blocking our way out.>

<We could go out the front,> Joel suggested.

<Might have to, if Mister Nosy here doesn’t move along soon,> Katelyn grumbled. <I’d hate to risk it, though. I have no idea what kind of augments Grady has. He’s in a standard humanoid frame, but if he’s got any kind of security, and it senses unusual currents in the air from our passing….>

<Uh, yeah. Kinda didn’t think about that,> Joel muttered. <So what are we going to do, just wait for the goombah here to move along?>

<Nope.>

The man took his sweet time, looking first one way and then the next, craning his neck to look around. He stepped a cautious foot inside, but then pulled back abruptly when his partner called to him. With reluctance, the man took a few steps away from the door to answer.

<Come on,> Katelyn said, palming the keypad once more to stop the door as it began to close.

That brought the man’s attention flicking back toward the opening, expression creasing in consternation, but it couldn’t be helped.

She and Joel skirted the man, creeping quietly away as he once more stuck his head into the building. She heard him call out to those inside, and increased her pace.

<Are the security tokens back in place?> she asked as they reached the base of the hill.

<It was recoding itself when I left, but the routine should have completed before they got there,> Joel told her.

<That doesn’t sound all that encouraging, Joel,> she warned, starting up the incline.

He shrugged. <Some things can’t be rushed, Kate, you know that.>

She sighed. <Yeah, I know. We need to hustle, though. And that’s going to be dangerous, because we’re going to kick up some dust, rushing up this hill. If someone happens to glance over this way, it’s going to be pretty obvious we’re here.>

<Let’s just get it over with,> Joel gritted out.

Instead of answering, Katelyn pushed off a hillock, and Joel followed at her heels.

They raced toward the rocky outcropping they’d hidden behind when they first arrived. Two meters from the top, she heard a shout, but didn’t bother to turn, knowing that the runner who looked back was the one who’d lose the race.

A piece of rock exploded to her left, and she dodged the spray of rubble that flew in the air like shrapnel—debris from the projectile their pursuer had shot at them.

Leaping the last meter, Katelyn crouched and reached out a hand to Joel. His slapped hers hard, and she hauled him behind the boulder just as a large divot of dirt exploded where his body had been moments before.

Unsealing her backpack, she reached for the handle of one of the hiker’s poles. Twisting it open, she shook two frag grenades free.

<Stay low,> she instructed, motioning for Joel to head into the trees. <I’ll cover you.>

The moment he bolted away, Katelyn armed the first grenade and set it at the base of the outcropping. She palmed the other, testing its weight in her hand as she evaluated her options.

The nanocloud slaved to her Link showed her the locations of those in pursuit as they ran toward the hillside. Her eyes narrowed, studying the landscape. Selecting a cluster of scrub trees five meters above them, she rose to a half-crouch and sent the small missile flying.

She didn’t wait around to see the result of her handiwork; trusting her aim to be true, she sprinted for the pines, one eye on the nanocloud, and the other on the forest ahead of her. An explosion rocked the hillside, her feed displaying the result of her efforts.

She raced to catch up to Joel, knowing the grenade would only slow—not stop—their pursuers. Together, they crashed through the underbrush, trampling pinecones and deadfall left over from the previous winter.

Katelyn kept a careful eye on the nanofeed. The Free Diskers were close to cresting the hill when she spied the clearing up ahead. Connecting mentally with the small stealth craft, she triggered its warmup sequence at the same time she ordered the second frag grenade to detonate.

As the ground shook, she clambered inside, Joel diving in after her. He landed on his belly rather than rolling onto his back, and she realized why when her eyes landed on the outline of the backpack her HUD traced over his stealthed form.

She sealed the hatch and dove for the pilot’s cradle.

“Secure that antimatter, and get webbed in,” she called out. “I’m taking us airborne now.”

“Shit!” Joel scrambled to his feet, balaclava once more pushed to the top of his head.

He shucked the backpack and then tucked it securely into the storage unit in the aft of the vessel. He went careening into the starboard bulkhead as she banked the craft to get clear of the trees, but Katelyn didn’t spare the time to apologize.

“Get on comms as soon as you can,” she ordered. “I need to know if they’re sending anyone after us, or if we got away clean.”

Joel slipped in beside her, grabbing for the cradle’s straps. His hands played over the comm console, eyes scrunched up as he concentrated.

“I’ve intercepted an encrypted call,” he told her. “It’s emanating from the warehouse below. I think it might be our friends calling for backup.”

He shot her a quick glance. “They might not know we’re airborne, but they have to suspect. Especially if they followed us to the overlook, and found that our trail just…stopped.”

Katelyn released a cloud of nano, similar to what she’d used when they’d first arrived. She sent a passel of them ahead of her, and let another lag behind.

The ones aft of them caught movement in the clearing, so she sent them circling high above, their sensors trained on the grasses below.

Six people, five humans and one AI, stood staring up at the sky. The AI pointed, and Katelyn cursed, pulling the nanocloud back and sending it off in a direction different from their own heading.

“Yeah, they know we’re not in the area any longer,” she said grimly. “When you get a chance, let Dom know we’ll be using that expedited clearance, and that we might have someone on our tail. This bird’s got excellent stealth when people don’t know you’re coming, but it’s lacking in a few other things.”

Joel’s head snapped around. “Care to elaborate on that?”

“Same reason we were spotted going up that hill, and the same reason I didn’t want us to go out the front.” Her words came in a quick staccato, her mind focused on the mental math of getting them to Atlantis’s main spaceport in one piece.

“Air turbulence?” Joel guessed, and she nodded.

“There’s plenty of it out there,” she sent a vague gesture toward the forward screen to indicate the sky around them, “but weather currents are a bit more random and chaotic than the air stream a ship generates going from point A to point B. Nothing in nature—nothing in atmosphere, in nature,” she amended, “follows a straight line. That’s usually indication it’s human—or AI-generated. If they’re smart, they’ll know that too.”

She exchanged a glance with Joel.

“I don’t know about you,” he said slowly, “but that Disker woman didn’t give me the impression she was a slacker.”

“Nope,” Katelyn agreed. “Good news, though, is that she has no reason to suspect the spaceport as our destination. I mean, she’s going to check it out, of course, because who wouldn’t? But she’s not going to leave it at that. Which means that if I can lay down some false trails on our way back to the Bonanza, that’ll dilute her forces as she splits them apart, sending them off in different directions to chase each lead.”

“Yeah, but that’ll take some time,” Joel said in a tentative voice.

“It will,” she agreed. “Fortunately, I have decades of experience smuggling for the SWSF. I know my way around stuff like this. One series of confusing false trails, coming up.”

Joel turned back to the comm console. “I’ll let Dom know what we’re doing. Got an ETA I can give him?”

She shook her head. “Not quite yet.”

She worried at her lower lip as she studied Atlantis’s map overlay. Pointing to three nearby islands in the chain, she said, “It’s looking like I need to lay out at least three believable false trails, leading to Venturia, Sareme, and Crastinus before we can head back to the spaceport.”

A gesture sent them into a graceful dive, and they were once again on the deck, flying low over the local vegetation.

Katelyn doubled back, popping up at a location where she wanted to lay down the first red herring. She streaked through the sky for a few kilometers, and then dove once more, this time, keeping her belly just meters above the waves of a churning sea.

“Sorry,” she muttered to Joel, whose hands were once more vised into the sides of his cradle as the ship scudded in the ground effect, the cushion of air just above the surface of the water causing the craft to bump slightly.

At their next waypoint, she pulled back on the yoke, the ship climbing in a steep vertical, and she repeated the process, barreling down a radial that led to nowhere apparent.

At the end of the third pass, she relaxed back in her cradle, the ship vectoring past the planet’s thermosphere, and out into open space. She’d still have to watch for local traffic, as no area in nearspace around a populated planet was truly open, nor was it empty.

But for the first time since they’d been spotted, she breathed easier about their chances of returning to the Bonanza without being caught.

She turned the ship’s nose toward the spaceport, and let the NSAI autopilot take over as she pulled up the scans the nanocloud had recorded back in the clearing.

I want to know who’s hunting us.

She used a burner token to access Atlantis’s worldnet, and then used an encryption packet Harm had given her to secure her search from prying eyes, and went to work.

An image search returned an ID lock within minutes, and Katelyn pulled up the report. The face she was staring at belonged to one of Jakobsen’s top generals.

“Well, shit,” she ground out.

Joel looked up from the comm feed he was monitoring. “Is that our—oh shit,” he breathed, echoing her statement. “If she finds out who you are, we’re sunk.”

“Well, she’s not going to, if I can help it,” Katelyn replied. She shot him a glance. “Don’t tell Dom, though. He’ll want to bring the Bonanza out to rendezvous with us. If she has any kind of fleet presence up there, I don’t want to risk them tracing us and leading us back to the ship.”

Joel nodded, and turned back to his boards.

Katelyn studied the reports, scrolling through and finding no surprises there. The AI from the warehouse was a retired SWSF intelligence officer—which explained the ease with which he’d spotted them. Poor guy likely had no idea what his warehouse had been harboring, if his service record was any indication. He’d be horrified to learn the people he’d assisted were terrorists.

Her attention switched back to their approach to the spaceport. She would have to turn her transponder back on before passing through the port’s Mode C veil.

She spied a slow-moving hydrogen hauler, and nudged the craft toward it. She’d slip in behind its wake and pop out on the other side, transponder on.

She just hoped no one from the FDA was actively scanning when she did it.

The maneuver complete, she’d just contacted Atlantis and received clearance for a straight-in approach when both the tower and her onboard sensors warned of fast-moving vessels closing in on her.

“Katelyn!” Joel shouted as the first ship entered effective weapons range, and gouts of railfire erupted from its turrets.

Tracers heralded the close pass, and Katelyn sent the little ship corkscrewing through the black in evasive maneuvers.

<Atlantis tower, this is Slugbug. We have hostiles on our six,> she called out. <Coming in hot!>

<That’s a negative,> the tower replied. <We’re waving you off, Slugbug. The lane’s congested with too many civilians inbound. Vectoring you to the military side. They’re scrambling ships now to come to your aid. ETA five mikes.>

<That’s four minutes too late,> Katelyn growled. <Like it or not, we’re coming in.>

A warning alert popped up on the forward holoscreen, targeting icons indicating that not only were the ships on her tail actively trying to shoot her into the next life, but the spaceport they were approaching had now armed its guns and were seeking to acquire a lock on her.

Looks like things just got a lot more interesting….

ANOTHER IWO JIMA

STELLAR DATE: 04.12.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Offices of the Defense Minister, Ganymede

REGION: Jovian Combine

The section of the Jovian Unity Palace that housed its cabinet members was usually a quiet and orderly place. That tranquility was shattered by a loud, irascible voice.

“Those assholes are headed straight for Neptune.”

The words cut through the quiet, preceding its owner moments before the head of Spectre marched into Leona’s office.

Leona wasn't surprised Tori had managed to slip past the security measures that kept the average Combine citizen from waltzing into the Ministry of Defense. After all, the spy who ran the JC’s elite special operations task force had been trained by Leona herself.

She and Tori went back several decades. Leona had hand-picked her successor when Alden had forced her into accepting the role of Jovian defense minister. Tori was one of the few people she could trust to speak plainly to her and not pull any punches.

If her words hadn’t clued Leona in, the dour expression on Tori’s face would have made it clear: Spectre's leader was pissed.

The woman stalked toward her desk, hyfilm in hand. With the flick of her wrist, she sent the dossier spinning in a flat arc to land with a slap right in the center.

“Good aim,” Leona murmured, eyebrows lifting at the barely banked ire in Tori’s gaze. “Which assholes are we discussing, again?”

The spy made a scoffing noise and dropped into the seat across from Leona. “The Sol Federation, of course. Who else?”

Leona eyed the sheet resting on her desk. Tapping her stylus against it, she asked, “What’s this going to tell me, exactly?”

Tori crossed a leg and eyed the offending dossier in disgust. “You mean other than that the JSF fleet admirals have their heads up their collective asses?” She shook her head. “Nothing, I suppose.”

The head of the Jovian black-ops command looked away and let out a frustrated sound. After a moment, she appeared to collect herself and turned to meet Leona’s gaze, her own expression somewhat calmer.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I just left a briefing where the admiralty informed me they’d received a courtesy missive from the SSF, announcing the TSF is planning to conduct an exercise with the SWSF, to the stellar north of Atlantis.”

“And?” Leona prompted.

“And….” Tori let out an explosive breath, and then turned to glance at the wall-mounted holoprojector. A moment later, it flared to life.

“Our sources have identified the ships they’re sending out—the Iwo Jima and her escort. The entire carrier group is ascending the plane right now. They started their push yesterday.”

Leona thought a moment, mentally tracking orbits in her head. “That’ll put them….”

Tori nodded. “Yep. They’ll be passing right over Neptune in a matter of days.”

“Well, not right over,” Leona corrected, and Tori shot her an exasperated look.

“Close enough in stellar terms as to make no nevermind,” the other woman stated.

Leona had to work to keep a smirk off her face at the colloquialism.

Tori gestured to the holo, and Leona saw an animation appear. Icons marked the TSF carrier group: Iwo Jima, flanked by her companion ships.

The ships left the TSF base in Matria and immediately began angling stellar north. A dotted line showed their projected path. As Tori had said, they would pass Neptune with just a scant seven million kilometers separating them.

Leona stared a moment at the animation, stylus flipping back and forth in her hand as she thought. “And you think this exercise they have planned with the SWSF out at Atlantis is nothing but a ruse,” she guessed.

Tori leant forward and clasped her hands together, arms braced on her knees. “Any idiot can see where their flight path is going to take them. It doesn’t take a lot of brain cells to figure it out.”

“They have to know that, though,” Leona said.

“True,” Tori conceded, “but they also have to know who we have in charge over there at the moment.”

Leona’s gut tightened. “I'm not sure which disturbs me more,” she commented. “The fact that they’re pulling this shit, or the fact that none of my staff had seen fit to inform me about it.”

Tori looked a bit guilty. “I might have pulled rank a bit on this one,” she confessed. “This is only a half-hour old. You know how they like to review things coming from other agencies before sending stuff to you. I suspect they know this already; they’re just not quite ready to share it.”

Leona shot Tori a darkly amused look. “Inter-governmental rivalries will never end, will they?”

Tori snorted and lifted her hands. “Not touching that one, but yeah, I get it. The last thing anyone wants is to have their asses hanging in the wind if, for some reason, they make a mistake in their analysis. I have my people do the same thing.”

Leona suppressed a smile. “Well, a little rivalry between agencies doesn’t hurt. Nothing I say is going to change it, anyway.”

She turned back to the animation, and studied it, analyzing and discarding various scenarios. “What are the odds that this ‘exercise’,” she air-quoted, “is actually just that?”

The expression on Tori’s face soured. “Thirty percent is what they’re saying,” she admitted. “But remember, they’ve had all of twenty minutes to study this.”

“So you don’t agree.”

Tori hesitated, and then shook her head. “My gut is telling me that they wouldn’t waste an opportunity like this. I know I wouldn’t, if it presented itself.”

Leona’s gaze returned to the animation once more. “And you think this lone carrier group is enough to take Neptune?” She let skepticism leach into her tone.

Tori sat back in her chair, and didn’t immediately respond. Leona could tell the woman was picking her words carefully.

“Like I said, that depends upon the people who are in charge out there,” she said.

Leona couldn’t help but notice how her successor kept her tone neutral and expression blank. The defense minister’s eyes narrowed. With a glance at her door, sent the command to shut it. That done, she released jamming nano to block their conversation from prying eyes and ears.

Understanding the clear, yet unspoken meaning behind Leona’s actions, Tori relaxed her stance. “Yes,” she said. “I think they can take Neptune.” Her words were blunt.

Leona nodded for her to continue.

“If it weren’t Rialto calling the shots, I’d say the JSF group stationed there would be able to repel a force that size.” She paused, considering, and then amended, “Not without significant casualties, though. A TSF carrier group can do a shit-ton of damage to a planet’s defenses. Just look at what happened at Sedna. Or Venus, for that matter.”

Leona’s jaw tightened at the memory of how costly their victory at Sedna had been. Something about Tori’s words gave her pause. She held up a finger while she called up both incidents on the holoscreen.

“It’s interesting that the two incidents you mentioned were both ones the Normandy led,” Leona said after a moment.

“The 242 is a formidable force,” Tori agreed.

The thought jolted Leona. “Where is the Normandy now?”

Tori turned back to the display and a view of Sol sprang into view. “They just finished wrapping up their war on our stellar supply chain—” her eyes darted to Leona and then back, “and are on their way back to the Marsian shipyards for a refit.”

Leona traced the path. “That’ll bring them pretty close to Saturn,” she remarked. “Why so worried about the Iwo Jima and not the Normandy?”

Tori crossed her arms and shot Leona an impatient look. “For one, they expended a lot of resources on the exercise they just concluded. The TSF isn’t stupid; they’re not going to go after a target with a depleted carrier group. Plus, all our inside sources are hearing is that there’s a communications blackout surrounding the Iwo Jima’s movements. Everything Normandy’s up to is in the clear.”

Tori lapsed into silence, her expression one of watchful waiting. Leona appreciated the other woman giving her room to think.

She ordered the defense department’s NSAI to bring up the specs for the Iwo Jima. Leona scrolled through the information, noting the battle group’s crew complement and estimated munitions strength.

“The 312 is with Iwo Jima,” Leona said. “They don’t have the same record the 242 does, and they’re not as big a force as the 242.”

“They’re not laggards, either,” Tori cautioned. “Which is why I said we’d still incur a lot of casualties… if we had someone competent at the helm to lead the drive to repel them.”

The Spectre leader paused, her expression hardening. “You and I both know we don’t have that out there.”

Leona suppressed a wince. Rialto was a problem, they all knew it. Nepotism was alive and well within the Jovian Combine, and this idiot admiral was proof of that.

The younger sister of a lesser oligarch, Admiral Rialto was the living embodiment of the old adage that some people couldn't hit the plains of Io with a fifteen-centimeter cannon at point-blank range, even with an NSAI targeting for them.

In war games, Rialto consistently made judgment errors that cost her fleet easy victories. Even with the perfect setup, she’d somehow find a way to screw things up.

Leona had never seen the like, in all her years working for the military. Fortunately, the woman had been given some truly talented subordinates whose efforts worked to negate her ineptitude to a great degree.

Unfortunately, chance and an unfortunate set of circumstances had led to a rotation that recently placed the second most incompetent leader within the Jovian Space Force under Rialto’s command. Stefani was as big an asshole in his own right as Rialto was an idiot. Together, the two truly defied belief.

Leona pushed away from her desk, the thought of what those two could do if left unchecked itching at her insides. She began to pace in front of the holodisplay, which had reverted back to playing the animation of Iwo Jima’s track.

“I’ll need to head out there myself,” she said aloud, more to herself than to Tori.

She paced some more, and then paused, a bitter taste settling in her mouth. “It galls me to say this, but the last thing we need is to instigate something, if that task force truly is just passing through.”

One corner of Tori’s mouth kicked up, her expression commiserating. Neither of the two women particularly liked the Sol Federation, and to let an opportunity to kick them in the balls slip through their fingers like this required discipline.

“I don’t trust either of those fools to make the right decisions where this is concerned,” Leona added, sighing with real regret.

Tori looked relieved. “I wouldn’t either. For what it’s worth, I think you’re making a good call… Neither one of those people should have ever been given their own command. Put the two of them together, and you get an entirely new level of stupid.” She shook her head. “When will you leave? “

Leona pulled up her calendar on her HUD. “I have one more meeting to attend, and then I can wrap things up here. I’ll have my assistant arrange things so I can depart immediately after.”

Tori stood and headed for the door. “I'll keep an eye on things from this end. I'll send you whatever we find the moment we’ve confirmed it.”

“I appreciate that,” Leona nodded her thanks.

Tori paused at the exit. “One more thing.”

Leona grimaced internally at what she suspected the other woman was about to say.

“Since you’ll already be at Neptune, why not drop by Thalassa Penitentiary, and rid the Combine of another threat?” the agent suggested.

Suppressing a sigh, Leona replied with a patience she didn’t feel. “Soleil is no threat. And we need her alive to keep Alden stable. Or did you decide that life under Frans’s rule wouldn’t be so bad, after all?”

This was an argument she and Tori always seemed to have when the two of them got together privately. So far, Leona had managed to keep Oligarch Alden’s daughter alive, despite the fact the younger woman had been used by Division 99 to send the TSF valuable information on the JC’s plans.

“Then bring her back to Ganymede with you when you return,” Tori prompted.

Leona shot her a repressive look. “So you can make her disappear permanently, like you’ve been wanting to do for the past five years? I don’t think so.”

“Soleil has given you no actionable intel in the five years you’ve kept her alive,” Tori reminded her. “I understand your concern about risking Alden’s sanity, but that ship has clearly sailed, and she remains a potential threat to the Combine. More so, now that we’re our own sovereign nation.”

Leona sighed. Tori wasn’t wrong. “Aren’t you tired of rehashing the same thing each time you show up in my office? I’m not having this argument with you again. The Oligarch’s daughter remains alive.”

Tori’s eyes narrowed briefly. In the next moment, she shrugged it off.

“Okay,” she said, mouth twisting in wry acceptance. “Well, you know I had to try.” She smiled, gave a brief wave of her hand, and left.

Leona stared at the retreating back of her friend and blew out an annoyed breath. Tori had capitulated too quickly.

Dammit. She dragged a hand through her hair. Well, there’s only one thing to do now….

She pinged her assistant.

<Yes, Director?> Allie asked, her response instantaneous.

Leona choked back a laugh at Allie’s sarcasm. Then a noise at the door had her looking up.

The AI had recently moved to a humanoid frame, all done in muted greys and silvers. Her hair was loose about her shoulders today, the alternating charcoal-and-heather banding shimmering in the office light as she cocked her head at her boss.

“Would you like fries with that?” she asked with a grin.

Leona tossed the hyfilm Tori had brought at her assistant. “Yes, actually, and a big, juicy burger to go along with. I’ll need to work through lunch to clear my schedule so we can leave.”

Allie nodded and pushed away from the door frame.

“Wait.” Leona sighed. “Contact the prison warden on Neptune and have him move Soleil to the penitentiary’s supermax wing. Ask them to arrange for extra security around her, too.”

“Whatever for?” Allie asked. “Stars know she’s not much of a flight risk.”

Leona scowled. “Because she’s in Tori’s sights once more, that’s why.”

The AI held up her hand. “Gotcha. One supermax prisoner, and a burger and fries, coming right up.”

Leona narrowed her eyes. “Careful.” She pointed a finger at her assistant. “You keep that attitude up, and I’ll make you sit through every one of the stupid-ass dinners you know Rialto’s going to set up once she learns I’m visiting.”

Allie shrugged. “I doubt it. I’m just a lowly admin.”

Leona snorted as the AI shot her a wicked grin and left.

Dismissing both Rialto and Soleil from her mind, the defense minister went about wrapping things up so she could depart as quickly as possible.

Neither she nor her small army of intelligence analysts intercepted the encrypted data burst sent by Allie to a dead-drop known only to Harm Ellis.

VECTOR SHIFT

STELLAR DATE: 04.12.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Trotsky Refinery Platform

REGION: Kuiper Belt, Scattered Disk, Sol Space Federation

“So what’s the news, General?” Williams asked as he and Brigadier General Ender entered the conference room where the other commanders of the Normandy’s battlegroup were already assembled.

Present were Captain Olivia, Colonels Lauren and Parlace, and a half dozen lieutenant colonels representing the two regiments’ various battalions.

“Please let it be that we don’t have to hit those stations around Sol,” Ender added. “Even for a sim, that was harrowing.”

“That was the point, boyo,” General Tobias said. “Nae a good training exercise without the brain-freezin’ fear that dropping t’ward Sol makes for. Did well, a true shower of savages, the lot o’ ye. Near as well as mae wing did, back in th’ war.”

Williams gave a slight smile, still amused at how Tobias referred to the first and second Solar Wars as ‘the war’, as though there hadn’t been myriad conflicts since—many of which the Weapon Born AI had fought in.

“We’ll need better hardening on nav systems for the real thing,” Colonel Lauren said. “We lost too many people when that flare hit. If you ask me, the sim was too forgiving for what our losses would have been.”

“I’ll make a mark in th’ log,” Tobias said, gesturing for Williams and Ender to take a seat. “Whether or not we’ll ever run tha’ op beyond th’ confines of our puir wee braincases is another question. Isnae surprise tha’ good friend in the Division set up this ‘ere trial at a mote o’ grime in the black tha’ so happens to set Saturn twixt us and our next stop.”

“Saturn?” Ender cocked a brow. “That’s a bold move. How are we going to hit it without the Jovians shifting a thousand ships there to stop us?”

Olivia gave a soft laugh, and all eyes turned to her. “It’s brilliant really.” She paused and looked to Tobias. “If you don’t mind, sir.”

“Nae, have at it.”

The Normandy’s captain brought up a map of Sol, out to their current location on the inner edge of the Kuiper Belt. “It looks like Harm has a misinformation campaign planned, one that will make the Jovians think that Neptune is our real target. He has the Iwo Jima beefed up with a few smaller battlegroups, ostensibly headed out to the Disk for maneuvers. They’re going to pass damn close to Neptune. What with a few other pieces moving about OuterSol, the JSF is going to have no option but to believe we’re going to hit them there.”

“Tha’s th’ short o’ it.” Tobias nodded, a smirk forming on his frame’s lips. “However, a part of this li’l diversion involves ye, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“Me?” Williams placed a hand on his chest as the general’s gaze met his own. “How’s that?”

“I’m sure yer thoughts oft turn to the fair lass we last saw durin’ our wee vacation at Sedna. She’s travlin’ to Neptune wi’ th’ full intent o’ being taken in. The Jovians’ll add tha’ ta their pile o’ suspicions. Keepin’ ta mind th’ role she played at Venus an’ Sedna, it’ll seem too much a coincidence to overlook.”

“No fucking way,” Williams said, realizing he was half out of his chair before the words left his mouth.

Deciding that he might as well go all in, he let the rest of the thought blast out of his mouth.

“I’ll tear Harm a new one if he thinks I’ll let Katelyn play bait like that. The Jovians aren’t known to be terribly kind to spies.”

“Easy, lad,” Tobias held up a hand. “I had my own words for Harm upon hearing that. The lass wormed her way into my cold, steel heart as well. I have to say, his counter wasnae somethin’ I expected…”

“Which was?” Williams pressed when the general paused.

“Well…he said to send ye in after her. If Katelyn headin’ to Neptune didna set them on th’ defensive, the 242nd Marines’ venerated Lieutenant Colonel Williams showin’ up would.”

Ender snorted. “Makes sense. Who would believe the 242nd could do anything without Williams here to babysit us.”

“It is in my fuckin’ job description,” Williams muttered before shaking his head. “I still think this is shit. She’s not a soldier, just a smuggler.”

“She’ll have a hand, lad. A pair o’ AIs I’d trust my core wit’ll be along for the ride. Trust me, if my lads weren’t on hand, I’d’ve flown out there myself to stop her.”

Williams’s lips thinned. “What’s to stop them from ending up like Bruno did?”

<Shackled, you mean?> Bruno chimed in, his voice entirely toneless.

“Yes. That.” Williams gave an emphatic nod.

“Dinnae think I’m nae sympathetic to their risk. I provided Harm with th’ same faux program Lysander used to free Bruno while keepin’ th’ Jovians in the dark that he’d been freed. Katelyn has the same, and a way to ensure they’re nae shackled. They should be able ta escape confinement with Soleil, and get ta a safehouse, where you’ll get them away from Neptune.”

“Soleil!” Ender exclaimed. “Why am I not surprised there’s an ulterior motive?”

Colonel Lauren’s lips thinned before she responded. “Always wheels within wheels when it comes to MICIs.”

Williams heaved a tired sigh. “So we’re their escort out, plus backup to meet that objective. I hate feeling used.”

Tobias fixed him with a penetrating stare. “Ye’r nae being used. This is how we win. There’s not enough political will to take Jove head-on. Faking them ou’ at Neptune, plus springing Soleil, is how the war will turn in our favor. Besides, lad, these are orders.”

Squaring his shoulders, Williams nodded. “Very well, then. When do I leave?”

“Eight hours,” Olivia said. “I’ve a friend nearby. She’s just docked at Trotsky, and will be ready to go by then. She does regular runs to Neptune, and can give you a lift.”

“Prep a fireteam,” Tobias directed. “People who can blend in.”

Williams rose and saluted the general. “I know just the Marine.”

RESOLUTE

STELLAR DATE: 04.08.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Nibiru

REGION: Sol Space Federation

Harm and Lysander stood with Terrance Enfield’s former wife in front of an ES field, overlooking the slip that held the skeleton of a massive ship. Lights twinkled in the blackness of space around it, as small tugs and crews of engineers swarmed its hull.

“So, Lysander recruited you to be the new head of security for the Resolute,” Harm murmured with a sideways glance at Khela. He nodded to the big cat at her side. “And the animal?”

<Animal has a name, spy guy,> the big cat groused, flicking an ear back, and shooting him an aqua-eyed glare.

“My apologies,” he said, bending to give the creature a brief bow. “And you are…?”

“Beck was Terrance Enfield’s long-time companion,” Lysander inserted. “When things…progressed the way they did, the three of them—Terrance, Khela, and Beck—decided it would be best if he stayed back here in Sol, with her.”

Harm’s attention was arrested by Lysander’s pause, but he knew better than to try to pry the information from the Weapon Born. Instinctively, he knew the wedge that had driven Terrance and Khela apart had to have been something huge.

Possibly the very thing that had driven him to decide to leave with the Intrepid in the first place.

His eyes narrowed in speculation as he considered what he knew of the woman who had once been Terrance Enfield’s wife.

It wasn’t much. She wasn’t the last person he’d expected to see at the Nibiru black site, but she was damn close to it. If he’d had any inkling, he would have used his considerable resources to dig at her background, overturn every scrap of information he could find on her.

He’d rectify that once he got back to Division 99 headquarters—or at least to within encrypted Link’s reach of another copy of himself.

He almost smiled at the thought. Saying that he didn’t trust anyone other than himself had taken on an entirely new meaning nearly a century ago.

For the moment, the best he could do was try his hand at subtle interrogation, and hope that Lysander and Khela dropped tidbits of information he could latch onto.

Knowing Lysander’s reputation, he suspected if he gleaned anything, it would be because the Weapon Born had deliberately left it for him to find.

His gaze drifted back to the massive vessel being assembled before them. “How is this progressing?”

“We’re on schedule,” Lysander replied. “But you know as well as I do that a schedule like this is far too dependent on the system remaining stable until we complete it.” He and Khela exchanged an unreadable glance.

The woman shifted, and Harm caught the metallic gleam of a tattoo gracing her forearm. The filigree’s intricate weave intrigued him.

Something told him the golden threads were more than body art. The design was a stylized logogram, the ink thick enough to contain breaching nano, and yet, he sensed nothing from it when he probed.

She turned, a knowing look on her face, and he felt himself redden.

Caught.

Harm cleared his throat, amazed at how easily these two put him off his game. He was used to being at the top of the food chain, holding all the cards, and the power.

He reminded himself that it didn’t matter; they were all working toward the same goal. Besides, Lysander had made it perfectly clear that he’d had enough of leadership for one lifetime.

“If you’re worried that the SSF’s play for Saturn will plunge us into the civil war we’re hoping to escape, that’s a valid concern,” he conceded, breaking eye contact with Khela, and focusing his attention back on Lysander.

“We’re a good nine to twelve months away from completion,” the AI warned. “And then there’s the matter of the fleet we’ll need to guard her, and the people we intend to offer passage to.”

Harm nodded. “All things that take time—more than I fear we have,” he admitted. “We bring in too many people too early, and we risk exposing the entire project. I doubt that either the Sol Federation’s President Noelani or Oligarch Alden will be inclined to let an entirely new class of ship with untold tech slip through their fingers—especially after Terrance gutted the system of half its best minds when he left on the Intrepid.”

“They’d be equally interested in two of the mythical Weapon Born,” Khela murmured.

Lysander made a sound suspiciously like a snort. “Mythical?” he murmured, lifting an eyebrow as if to challenge her words.

She bared her teeth at him. “It may not be in our best interest to feed the mystique surrounding your capabilities, if they are going to imbue you and Tobias with godlike powers, you know.”

Ignoring the Resolute’s head of security, Lysander pinned Harm with an intense look. “Did you tell Cassie my people are on their way? They should arrive at the Atlantis spaceport in six days.”

“That’s one hell of an acceleration burn they’re going to endure,” Harm observed. “What, around a-hundred-eighty gs?”

Lysander shook his head. “That assumes they were here. They aren’t. Besides, they’ve experienced worse. So?” The Weapon Born looked at him expectantly.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Cassie knows to expect them.”

“And? Did you forward the special embed procedure I gave you, for their ship’s autodoc? They’ll need the program so that they can pair Katelyn with this AI.”

Harm reared his head back. “For someone who’s sick of leadership, you’re sure micromanaging this.”

“Only where Katelyn is concerned,” the AI said in a mild tone.

Harm crossed his arms. “Want to explain to me what advantage this is going to give them?”

A small smile graced Lysander’s face. “No.”

Khela turned to face the ES field, but not before Harm caught the amused look she tried to hide.

He tossed his hands in the air. “Fine,” he declared sarcastically. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, and that it’s worth all this trouble.”

Lysander turned back to the Resolute. “Oh, it will be. I guarantee it.”

COMING IN HOT

STELLAR DATE: 04.12.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Atlantis, Scattered Worlds

REGION: Sol Space Federation

The small vessel Katelyn piloted streaked through the spaceport’s open bay, the voice of Atlantis’s STC shrieking at them over the shipnet to slow their approach. A round of railgun fire pelleted the space through which they’d just passed, and the voice on the other end went up an octave.

Katelyn didn’t have the time to respond to the litany of spaceport violations the AI on the other end was levying against them. She was too busy trying to stop the damn ship before they pancaked against the bay’s far bulkhead.

She kicked reverse thrusters hard, slaloming between two of the longboat-style merchant ships that typically ran the Chaos-Haumea-Salasia route. Firing the port thrusters in sequence from tip to stern, she sent the aft end of the shuttle slewing around, friction from the move causing an ear-splitting screech as the small vessel’s hull plating scraped against the deck.

Still, the small craft skidded almost a hundred meters before coming to halt a mere half-meter from the far bulkhead.

<Well, that was fun, said no one ever,> came a sardonic voice over the ship’s net, eliciting a shaky laugh from a white-faced Joel, seated at the comm console to Katelyn’s left.

“You said it,” he wheezed, letting out a gust of air as he released his white-knuckled grip.

The voice’s owner materialized in front of them, the hologram courtesy of a ship link over the spaceport’s bay.

Planting a hand on her hip, the AI glared at Katelyn. <Did you have to make such a dramatic entrance?> Zura demanded. <Atlantis STC is pitching a fit, and you don’t even want to know how many fines they’ve levied against the Bonanza. You really don’t. Trust me on this.>

Katelyn lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.” She unslung herself from the pilot’s cradle and stepped from the shuttle’s cramped cockpit and into its cabin. The little vessel was so small, she could practically reach from port to starboard by fully extending her arms.

She palmed the hatch’s controls. The airlock slid open on a sigh, the equalizing pressure causing a draft to curl into the shuttle’s cabin, bringing with it the scents of Atlantis Spaceport.

Currently, that amounted to the smell of ozone and the stench of scorched metal.

She popped her head out briefly, and winced at the skid marks she’d made on the bay’s deck. Hopping down, she turned to face the half-dozen angry people striding briskly toward her.

Katelyn tried plastering on a pleasant, if slightly rueful expression.

She failed, if the mental snort she heard was any indication.

<You look like you took a bite of bitterbark,> the new voice said over the connection to Bonanza that popped suddenly into being. The sound curled warmly inside her head, its owner’s amusement clear.

<Thanks for that,> she retorted. <Since I have no idea what that is, I’ll have to guess from the name that it’s not the kind of thing sloths usually consider a delicacy?>

A warm, furry laugh sounded over the Link, and she received the flash of a brown, masked face, dark eyes twinkling in amusement.

<Nnnnnnope,> Winston replied, popping the ‘p’ like he usually did.

Winston’s riposte had done what her previous attempt to settle her mind hadn’t; it restored her mental equilibrium.

With a studied calm, she refocused her attention on the posse bearing down on her. She held herself at casual attention, arms loosely at her sides, and awaited their wrath.

Silently, she admitted to herself that, during those last few kilometers of her run to the spaceport, she wondered if they’d make it. She shuddered to think how closely they’d come to being shot from the black by one of Jakobsen’s fighters.

Katelyn could only imagine how well that was being received by those at the SWSF military base on the other side of the spaceport.

In the distance, she saw her brother, Dom, jogging quickly to catch up to the spaceport representatives, and blew out a quiet, relieved breath. She’d have her own answering to do with him, but in front of the officials, she knew he’d back her to the hilt.

Family came first with the Evans brood. It always had.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” the first person demanded when he was within shouting range. He jabbed a finger back toward the landing bay’s opening, rimmed by a bright blue light that indicated the ES field protecting the bay’s interior atmosphere.

“Those longboats belong to Dartmouth Shipping, and they’re loaded to the gills with very important merchandise,” the man emphasized, “that must be delivered on time. If you’d clipped either one of those in your lunatic flight, that would have put the ship out of commission for weeks, probably months.”

<Drama much?> Winston drawled inside her head, and Katelyn stomped firmly on the laugh that threatened to bubble up.

<Not now,> she scolded sternly.

<Suit yourself,> he sent her a mental shrug. <Personally, I think they could use a bit of lightening up. The whole lot of them look like they could use a good laxative.>

<Winston!> Her lips twitched, and she felt her shoulders shake slightly as she fought to constrain her amusement at the mental picture the sloth had just conjured up. <You’ve been hanging around Joel too much. I can see his brand of humor is rubbing off on you.>

<Wait! What? What’d I do now?> Joel demanded.

Katelyn realized abruptly that Winston’s last comment hadn’t been directed at her alone; he had broadcast it over the Bonanza’s shipnet.

Clearly, I’m more distracted than I realized.

She gave a mental shake of her head before returning her attention to the small, angry throng. “I’m truly sorry about that, but I assure you, I had the shuttle well under control. The longboats weren’t in any danger.”

As the man delivering the diatribe drew to a stop in front of her, his ID token flashed on her overlay.

Greaaaaat, she groaned. I’ve pissed off the Atlantis stationmaster himself.

The woman next to him was an AI encased in a sleek, humanoid frame. Her titanium body gleamed in shifting blue-teal-gold patterns under the bay’s lights.

“Would you care to explain what just happened here?” she asked in slightly more modulated tones.

By her body language, she was equally displeased, but she held herself to the kind of studied calmness Katelyn could only hope to emulate.

<Don’t say anything,> Dom barked in her head, and Katelyn sent him a mental glare.

She knew, from decades of experience, how overbearing older brothers could be at times like this. Apparently, Dom had completely forgotten that his younger sibling had been an adult for decades, and was quite capable of handling a situation like this.

<I’m well aware that the SWSF would rather I not go sharing every tiny little detail about our mission with the good people of Atlantis,> she shot back.

<Sorry,> he responded after a brief pause, and she sensed genuine remorse in Dom’s mental tone, suggesting he realized what he’d done.

<I’m not about to tell all. You didn’t need to come racing to my rescue, you know,> she said, softening her tone.

he agreed. <But that’s what family’s for. I have your back, kiddo.>

She hated when he called her that, but had long ago given up on trying to get him to stop.

She looked over at the massive man who was seven years older and five siblings apart from her in the Evans family tree.

Family tree? Try family forest. She grinned internally.

Sometimes Katelyn wondered if her ma had made it a stretch goal to singlehandedly populate Makemake when they’d first emigrated to the Scattered Disk, more than a hundred years earlier. She certainly had enough siblings to reinforce that theory.

Thankfully, ma had come to her senses, and stopped popping out kids after number ninety-eight.

“We apologize for the damage done by our shuttle.” Dom inserted himself smoothly into the conversation. Gesturing to the skid marks, he added, “We’ll pay for the repairs, obviously, and we’ll also get those thrusters tuned. I know they’ve been terribly unreliable lately.”

Drama Man actually rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, don’t try to pass this off as a mechanical failure. It’s a bit hard to ignore the fact that the spaceport was just strafed by an unmarked military fighter.” He jabbed an accusing finger in Katelyn’s face for emphasis.

Dom placed himself between her and the man.

As if that fool could actually do any physical harm, she scoffed, annoyed.

She was quite capable of taking care of herself, and Dom knew it. Hell, the man had trained her himself, in the dojo he owned back home.

Katelyn sighed, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Yes, that was a military ship. Yes, they were chasing us. And that’s all I’m free to divulge at this time. Any other questions will have to be directed to Major Anshelm, over on the base’s side of the spaceport.”

She crossed her arms before she gave into the temptation to send a bit more attitude his way.

<Stars, sometimes the undercover work we do for Harm and the SWSF is inconvenient,> she muttered on the Bonanza’s shipnet. <It’s not like I wanted to come in here at practically full throttle. Does he think I’m a lunatic? Wait. Don’t answer that.>

“My fault, Stationmaster Eiger.”

Katelyn looked up in surprise as a new voice entered the conversation—one she hadn’t heard in more than a year.

Cassie Hawke maneuvered her way through to the center of the circle. “I’m afraid this is now a classified situation, and the TSF will be compensating you for the repairs.” Her stance was military-precise in her crisp TSF uniform, and she had a pair of Marines flanking her.

The stationmaster’s eyes bugged. He backpedaled, both physically and verbally, as Cassie flashed her token.

“Well, of course,” he sputtered, “I should have thought—I mean, I should have known….”

Cassie raised a hand to stop him. “Just submit the bill to Atlantis Base, and we’ll take it from there,” she assured him. Her gaze swept those assembled. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to debrief….” She let her voice trail off.

The group took her none-too-subtle hint. They exchanged glances, and then turned away.

Katelyn waited until they were out of hearing range before turning on Cassie. “What in the—”

“Not here,” the MICI agent interrupted.

She waved the Marines away, wordlessly ordering them to follow the retreating group, before turning to survey the damage to the ship Division 99 had loaned Katelyn.

Joel was peering out from the shuttle’s hatch, and Cassie gestured him down. “Come on. Let’s reconvene on the Bonanza, and you can tell me what happened down there.”

A few minutes later, they reached the umbilical where the Bonanza was berthed. Katelyn reached out a hand and trailed it over the inner airlock seal as she passed into the ship that had been her home for the past six years.

To those in the Scattered Worlds and the rest of the Sol System, the Bonanza and the smaller Damus, which rested snug inside Bonanza’s hold, belonged to a private shipping company based on Makemake.

Although Katelyn and the crew did deliver goods throughout the Scattered Disk, it was more to maintain their cover than to make ends meet. Everyone aboard was on the TSF’s payroll.

Zura was waiting for them, arms crossed over the middle of her humanoid frame, and a scowl on her face.

“I’d say welcome back, but I’m too pissed at you at the moment,” she greeted them.

Joel reared back. “Wasn’t me,” he protested, his hands up as if to protect himself from the sharp edge of the AI’s tongue.

“Stow it, Joel,” Zura snapped.

He affected an injured look. “Aw, c’mon, Z, that’s just unfair. I’m not the adrenaline junkie. She is.”

“No,” the AI agreed. “You take yours in tiny shots of black liquid.”

“Hey, hey, no disparaging the espresso shots,” he objected. “Those are near and dear to my heart.”

Dom snorted, pressing past Zura on his way to the galley. “Come on,” he called out over his shoulder. “Let’s grab some grub while we talk.”

Zura fell in beside Katelyn, and switched to a private channel.

<That was close,> she remarked.

<Too close,> Katelyn agreed.

<So, what’s the verdict? Were you able to stop them from getting their hands on the antimatter for Dasha?>

Katelyn nodded. <Why else do you think they were shooting at us? We stole the bottle right out from under them, swapped it for Joel’s prized portable espresso machine, and dropped it back into the warehouse, all without them realizing we were there.>

Zura shot her a disbelieving look. <They were awfully trigger-happy for a ship that didn’t know you were there.>

Katelyn snorted. <Yeah, about that. One of their soldiers was at the back entrance as we were trying to leave. You should have seen the look of surprise on his face when the door slid open, apparently triggered by a ghost.>

Zura shot her an amused look. <So, what? You’re saying the reason they were chasing you is because you haunted them?>

Katelyn shrugged. <They immediately suspected someone had been there. The espresso maker would have passed a cursory scan, but not a deep on, so once they knew they’d been duped, they went all out to stop us.>

<Where’s the antimatter now?>

Katelyn indicated the backpack in her hand.

Zura reached for it. <Stars, girl. You should have led with that. Let me get it into stasis. I’ll meet you in the galley.> The AI whisked the backpack away.

Katelyn followed the guys into the galley. Her gaze landed on Winston as she stepped through the entrance. The sloth’s claws were wrapped firmly around the perch Joel built for him so he could ‘hang out’ with the rest of the crew.

She stopped to rub the top of Winston’s head, and the sloth reached a claw-tipped hand to her hair, lifting out a twig.

She grinned at him. “Sorry, but at the rate we were traveling, I don’t think you could’ve kept up.”

The sloth sent her a slow wink.

She shook her head on a laugh, pushing away from his perch to join the others.

Cassie was seated across from Joel, with Zura leaning against the far bulkhead, arms crossed.

Dom looked over his shoulder from where he was retrieving a platter from a cupboard. “I don’t know about you, but brushes with death always make me hungry.” He gave her a small smile. “Let’s drag out the fixings for sandwiches and BLTs.”

Katelyn crossed the small space so she could assist. As she neared, her brother slung an arm around her, and gave her a quick hug before breaking away and heading to the chiller.

His actions surprised her; Dom wasn’t much for displays of affection. The run-in with the FDA fighter must have shaken him more than she realized.

His question floated through her mind as he passed back by her carrying a tray of sliced deli meats. He placed it in the center of the table, and then turned back to the chiller, shooting her a questioning look as he passed.

Katelyn set a pitcher of mango iced tea next to a stack of cups as she sent him a mental headshake. <Not in my wildest dreams. But then again, I never thought one of our own generals would try to murder half of Venus, either.> She pivoted to grab the bread.

<Point,> Dom conceded, condiments in hand.

Things had certainly changed after Urdon’s mad gamble, but for those first few decades, it had only affected her life, not those around her. Five years ago, the actions of a disenchanted former governor and one of the SWSF’s own fleet admirals involved both her crew and her family.

Dasha had convinced Admiral Jakobsen to side with her as she grabbed Sedna and seceded from the Scattered Worlds, forming their own Free Disk Alliance, a government bent on forcing reform through guerilla-style tactics against the Sol Space Federation that governed the system.

That old adage about the enemy of my enemy sure held true for us, didn’t it, Katelyn mused as she glanced over at the MICI agent to whom she now reported.

No longer was the Bonanza working to aid the SWSF in their fight for equality. Now, the ship and her crew were seconded to Division 99 on missions for the benefit of the unified SSF. Usually, that meant missions spent snooping around the FDA, or occasionally, the Jovian Combine.

I wonder which one it’ll be this time?

She shot a glance at Cassie. Something told her the woman wasn’t only here to relieve them of the antimatter they’d just liberated—although she was more than happy to hand it over to her.

Katelyn had just taken a seat at the table when she heard the clicking of claws on the passageway deck. The sound heralded the arrival of the sixth member of their crew, Quinn.

The tawny Proxima cat stopped in the entranceway, her head lifted and lips slightly parted, scenting the air. <You have roast chicken, and you didn’t invite me?>

“Sorry, Quinn. It wasn’t an intentional slight,” Katelyn apologized.

Feline eyes slitted, Quinn turned her head to glare at Winston. <You said they were meeting, not eating,> she accused.

Winston blinked slowly at the big cat, expression all innocence. <Oooopssss,> he drew out slowly to taunt her. <Must’ve…slippppped my minnnnnd.>

The feline emitted a low growl and crouched low to the ground. Her tail lashed once, a sign of annoyance, before she began freeze-motion stalking him as if he were her prey.

Her tail flicked again, and another low growl rumbled in her chest.

Joel jumped up hastily and stepped between the two animals. “Hey, you know he likes kidding around with you. Don’t play into it.”

<Roast chicken is not a topic I kid about.> She glared at the large tree branch where Winston clung. <Ever.>

“Hey, I’m with you, dude,” Joel said. “Uh, dudette. But you’re here now, and I’ll share. Okay?”

Everyone knew how food-focused Quinn was. It was a wonder the Proxima cat wasn’t rotund, given the amount of food she could inhale in one sitting.

Her exclusion wasn’t because Winston was interested in the food. He was no carnivore. Plus, his monthly intake was less than a tenth of what Quinn consumed on a daily basis.

“Come on,” Joel urged, hand buried in the fur at the scruff of her neck. “The good stuff’s this way. Besides, didn’t you say Winston would be too stringy for your tastes?”

Quinn huffed, opened her mouth wide in a yawn that showed off her wickedly sharp incisors, and then snapped them shut in the sloth’s direction. <I’d make an exception for him.>

She sniffed once, then padded over to where Joel had resumed his seat.

The danger to Winston’s hide once more averted, Katelyn refocused her attention on Cassie. She accessed the data the nanocloud had recorded, and dropped the feed onto the Bonanza’s shipnet.

“That’s everything we have on the antimatter theft,” she told Cassie. “Jakobsen sent one of her top assets out there. Mikelsen is good. If the Free Disk hadn’t somehow dropped the ball and neglected to include which warehouse the crate containing the antimatter was housed in, we wouldn’t have been able to retrieve it in time.”

Cassie smiled. “Hard to get good help these days, isn’t it,” she said with a wink.

Katelyn smirked back at her. “Well, thanks for that.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, favoring the woman with a frown. “Okay, Hawke, spill. You going to tell us why you’re really here?”

“What? I need a reason to check in on you lovely people from time to time?”

Joel snorted and lifted the mug of espresso he’d somehow managed to acquire in the short time he’d been in the galley. “The last time you did that, we ended up in the middle of a civil war.”

“Not true,” Cassie countered. “You got yourself into that one all on your own, if you recall.” Her smile took on a grim edge. “I just helped facilitate your exit strategy.”

“Just tell us,” Katelyn prompted.

Cassie reached for a cup, and poured herself some tea. Shrugging, she said, “Harm sent me. The TSF plans to strike at the JC.” She pointed her glass at Katelyn. “And we need your help to pull it off.”

Katelyn narrowed her eyes at the MICI agent. “My help,” she repeated. “What did you have in mind?”

Cassie set the pitcher down, her eyes capturing Katelyn’s. “We need a foolproof way to convince the JC that the Sol Federation is going after Neptune. We need them to commit resources and relocate assets in that direction. In order for this to succeed, their eyes need to be there, and not on our true objective.”

She took a slow drink, eyes never leaving Katelyn’s, giving her a chance to process the information.

There weren’t many circumstances Katelyn could come up with that would allow her to believably pass on misinformation.

Unless….

Before she could respond, she saw Dom freeze, bread in one hand, butter knife in the other. A glob of mustard was loaded on the flat side of the knife, waiting to be spread.

He jabbed the knife toward Cassie, mustard landing with a splat on the center of the deli tray. “I did not just hear what I thought I did. Tell me you are not planning to get my little sister captured by the enemy, just to deliver some false intel.”

His grip on the knife told Katelyn he was pissed. The timbre of his voice, and the calm, almost mechanical way in which he delivered the line told her he was holding his temper in check by the barest thread.

She reached up and pushed down on the arm that wielded the butter knife. “Let’s just hear her out, okay?”

Cassie didn’t look the least bit threatened by Dom’s actions.

She sat back, an amused light in her eyes as she stared at the large man. Nodding once, she leant forward, bracing her elbows on the table in front of her. “You have good instincts, Dom.”

“So you are planning to—”

“What the hell?” Joel burst out, interrupting him. “Dom’s right? That’s a shitty plan!”

Katelyn’s brows drew together in a frown as she addressed their visitor. “What makes you think I’m going to be a credible source?”

Cassie smiled. “It won’t just be you. A number of things are going to add up to form the picture we want to draw for them. They need to come to the Neptune conclusion on their own, based on disparate pieces of evidence they have worked hard to acquire, using their own resources. You’ll be an added bonus that falls into their hands.”

Dom planted his palms on the table and shoved away from it. “It’s too risky,” he stated firmly. “Especially for what little gain you're going to get out of it. You said yourself that she's just one of several sources. You don’t need her. Just use the rest to show your hand.”

Zura pushed away from the wall and slid into a chair beside Dom. “There’s more going on that you haven’t told us, isn’t there?” the AI prompted. “How about letting the other shoe drop before we come to any conclusions.”

Cassie looked at the AI, and nodded. “This goes no further, understood?” The spy’s eyes swept the table. “This gets out, and a lot of good people could lose their lives. It’s that important.”

Even Joel sobered at that. Heads nodded all around, and the MICI agent continued.

“The JC has been nibbling away at us ever since they seceded. Alden’s not done. In fact, his goals are nothing short of turning the Sol Space Federation into the Jovian Space Federation, with him at the helm.”

Katelyn nodded, unsurprised. “We’ve known he was ambitious. The Cho is the center of commerce for the system, so it’s not that big a jump to see the man wanting to grab it all. Not just economic power, but the power to govern the people, too.”

“Problem with that is we have it on good authority that it’s no longer Alden who’s running things,” Cassie told them.

Katelyn’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” Joel asked, confusion in his voice.

“We’ve known for some time now that Alden suffers from Kronos Disease,” Cassie said.

Zura straightened, and Dom’s head went back in surprise.

“Wow, that’s…harsh,” Katelyn murmured.

“So who’s behind this, then, if not Alden? Frans?” Dom guessed, and Cassie nodded.

“That’s what we’ve been told. Their minister of defense isn’t happy with it. Leona and Frans have history, none of it pleasant. She’s loyal to Alden, though. For his sake, she’s keeping up pretenses.”

Cassie paused, and Katelyn had the impression that a swift, internal debate was happening inside the agent’s head. After a moment, she continued.

“There’s a second reason I want to get someone like Katelyn inside the JC. Alden’s daughter, Soleil.”

Katelyn cocked her head, the name sounding familiar. “Wait.” She paused, wracking her brain for the memory. She snapped her fingers. “Soleil was one of your assets!”

Cassie nodded again. “She was. She was the reason we were able to mitigate the disaster at Sedna.”

“And now?” she asked.

“Because of her loyalty to Alden, Leona has refused to allow Spectre to kill Soleil,” Cassie told her, “but it’s only a matter of time before Frans decides that ruling from the shadows is unsatisfactory. Once he does, he’ll get rid of Alden, and order Soleil’s termination.”

Dom barked a harsh laugh. “And you want Katelyn to spring Soleil. While she’s a prisoner.”

On a scale of one to ten, his sarcasm meter was at eleven.

He shook his head in disgust. “Anything else you’d like her to do for you, while she’s at it?”

“Hey,” Katelyn protested, “I’m not without the skills, bro.”

Dom crossed his arms and glared down at her. “You know what I mean.”

Katelyn knew her brother meant well, but his tendency to be overprotective could sometimes irk her. Turning to Cassie, she opened her mouth to accept, but the agent held up a hand.

“I think you underestimate your sister,” she said. “You also underestimate Division 99’s reach, as well as the resources we can provide that will give her an edge.”

Her brother lifted an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “An edge. As a prisoner. Behind Combine lines,” he repeated. “Do I have that right?”

Cassie’s smile turned mysterious. “I wouldn’t call it being a prisoner if I have a key.”

“What kind of key are we talking here?” Zura chimed in.

“She won’t be going in alone.”

That seemed to mollify Dom. “Good. When do we—”

“Not you.”

Cassie cut him off, and he was back to glaring at her.

“Katelyn is going to have a new partner,” Cassie explained. “Actually, two, but no one will be able to detect the second person.”

Katelyn looked around at her fellow crewmembers. Dom looked skeptical; Zura frowned and shook her head. None of them seemed inclined to believe the MICI agent.

“A partner no one can detect,” Dom repeated.

Katelyn nudged him with her foot under the table. <She’s going to think you’re simple-minded, if you keep parroting back everything she says,> she sent to him privately.

He moved his foot out of the way with a scowl.

A look of amusement crossed Cassie’s face. “Yes, those were my words. Someone they will never find. Someone not picked up on scan, and someone formidable enough to impress even a Weapon Born.”

It was Katelyn’s turn to stare. “When will we meet these mysterious people who impress even the Weapon Born?” Katelyn was discovering she had her own sarcasm meter.

“They’re on their way right now, in fact.” Cassie’s eyes flipped up and to the right, telling Katelyn she was accessing her HUD.

A chime sounded, and Zura straightened. “We have a visitor.”

Cassie raised a brow as the crew exchanged glances.

“Well?” the MICI agent prodded. “Anyone going to go greet him?”

Joel shrugged and stood. “I'll go.”

Minutes later, he returned to the galley, an unfamiliar AI in tow. The individual was clad in a mech suit built for both speed and stealth, his upper arms tipped with wicked-looking claws.

Katelyn wasn’t certain that the menacing aura could be attributed entirely to the frame. Something about the AI telegraphed danger.

Beside him stood a pleasant-looking AI encased in an ebony humanoid frame. He nodded to her as their eyes met.

“Katelyn, meet Logan and Landon,” Cassie said. “They’re your new partners.”

ROLL OUT

STELLAR DATE: 04.13.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: TSS Normandy

REGION: Inner edge of Kuiper Belt, Sol Space Federation

“I’m sorry, Colonel.” Perez blinked and shook his head. “You want me to what with a what?”

Williams planted a fist on his hip while the other hand gesticulated at the lieutenant. “I want you to select a fireteam from your ‘toon and get them ready for an infil mission at Neptune.”

“You want me…to run infil?”

A snort slipped past Williams’s nostrils. “Sure. You’re the least Marine-like Marine in my battalion. Who better to pass as a civvie?”

“Uhhh, thanks?” Perez frowned and narrowed his eyes. “So a four-person fireteam, plus me? All going to Neptune? Kinda sounds like a vacation.”

“And me,” Williams added.

The lieutenant grimaced. “Oh, so definitely not a vacation, then.”

Leaning back in his office’s hard plas chair, Williams sighed, a long-suffering expression settling over his face. “Look at it this way, it’s another opportunity for you to get busted back down.”

A smirk formed on Perez’s lips, and the two men shared a brief silence, each reminiscing on events that had occurred during their many decades in the corps together.

Once, Williams had thought of Perez as a son—a son whose ass he’d like to kick with startling regularity—but now, they were more like brothers. Neither could count the times they’d saved one another, and after a quick check, the older Marine was surprised to see that they’d served in the same battalion for over sixty years.

“You know,” Perez interlaced his fingers behind his head. “I think you’ve been playing me all this time. I always figured that being at the bottom of the totem pole was best. The least responsibility and the most fun…but now I’ve found that officers just get to sit around and make the sergeants do all the work.”

Williams barked a laugh. “Over six decades in the corps, and you’re just now figuring this out?”

The lieutenant shrugged. “I mean, I got it, but I just figured that being a grunt was more fun. I mean…responsibility blows, right? I know you like to get in the shit as much as possible, Guns, but up at the top, you get to pick whether you take it easy, or not.”

Being one of the old guard granted Perez the special privilege of still referring to Williams as ‘Guns’, or ‘Gunny’. Something the newer meat would never dream of doing. To them, he was the grizzled ‘Old Man’, not someone to crack jokes with over beers.

“Nice try, Perez.” Williams cocked a brow and shook his head. “I know you work twice as hard as ever before. You’d sooner die than let anyone in your ‘toon take a round.”

The LT shrugged. “That’s not a change from my enlisted days. Honestly…I have no idea why I’m finally content to climb the ladder, but I am. I guess what I’m saying is that I expect to come out of this op a commander, not busted back down.”

“Good,” Williams smirked. “Because once you’re a second lieutenant, the only way down is out.”

Perez took on a look of mock-shock. “Sir, I can’t believe you’d ever suggest that I’d do anything that would see me removed from the corps. Fuck, at this point, I am the corps.”

“Maybe as it’s mascot.”

<You two going to actually talk about the op at some point?> Aaron asked.

“You can’t rush these things,” the lieutenant colonel said. “This is a big deal.”

“Gimme the quick version,” Perez asked. “Whose ass we saving?”

“Katelyn Evans’s.”

The Marine’s hands unlaced from behind his head, and were gripping his chair’s armrests in an instant. “Evans? When do we leave?”

“Figured you’d be in.” Williams couldn’t help a grin.

“Even if I didn’t owe my life to her brother, she’s saved more people than I can even count. Honorary Marine in my book.” A sly look settled on Perez’s face. “Though I guess she’s something else to you.”

“Oh?” Williams gave his brother a measuring look. “What would that be?”

“Sir. Really? I didn’t survive this long without developing a few powers of observation. Sparks set off every time you two are close.”

He grunted. “That’s because one of us is about to combust.”

Perez nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”

<So, the mission is from the Division,> Aaron interjected, only to be immediately interrupted.

“Which…ninety-nine?” the lieutenant asked, eyes widening. “Things are never easy when a mickey’s pulling our strings.”

“Who do you think gives Tobias orders?” Williams asked. “We’ve been working for MICI ever since he created the 647th.”

Perez shrugged and seemed to relax. “Sure, but you gonna tell me that General Tobias would do anything he doesn’t want to? I don’t think even the president could pull that off. I mean, he’s a fucking Weapon Born. The Normandy is not only legendary, it’s led by a living legend.”

Williams laughed, nodding in agreement.

It hadn’t taken long for the crew and Marines aboard the Normandy to learn who Tobias really was. To say that the carrier was one of the most coveted duty stations in the TSF didn’t do the sentiment justice.

“You’re right, there,” he said after a moment’s reflection. “But that doesn’t mean the general is afraid of risk. He’s not afraid to do what has to be done.”

“And this is a no-brainer. Rescuing Katelyn Evans is something I’d sign up for, MICI puppetmasters or no. How’d she get in hock, anyway?”

<MICI’s sending her.> Aaron’s reply was entirely toneless. <Have to insert her as part of an overall op to get intel and rescue a high-value asset.>

Perez shook his head. “OK…well, that sucks. MICI giveth and MICI taketh away. Any other shenanigans we’re going to get up to while there?”

“You’ll find out when we get there,” Williams said. “For now, that’s classified.”

“Really?” The lieutenant’s eyes slitted. It wasn’t common for Williams to withhold information from his Marines. “Must be a big deal.”

“Probably. I want your team selection on my HUD in an hour. We head out in seven hours.”

Perez leant forward and placed his hands on Williams’s desk. “I’ve already picked them. My one/one. Alma, Pita, Charlie, and Carly. No one better in the 8th for this.”

“Only because Charlie and Carly fight like siblings about everything.”

<Does add authenticity to the cover,> Aaron said.

“Works for me,” Williams gave the Marine a resolute nod. “Get them assembled and geared up. I’ve sent you the loadouts. QM’s gonna load you up in full civvie gear.”

“Shit.” Perez nodded soberly. “So black ops, then?”

“The blackest. If we get captured, the Jovians can’t know we’re TSF.”

The lieutenant rose. “Well, then, looks like I’ve got some shit to do.”

Williams stood and reached across the desk, clasping Perez’s hand. “See you at the transport. Seven hours.”

“You got it, Guns. You can count on me.”

“I know.” Just hope we can count on Harm.

PARTNERSHIP

STELLAR DATE: 04.14.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: SWSF Damus, Inner Kuiper Belt

REGION: Sol Space Federation

Katelyn awoke gradually, the familiar sounds of shipboard travel filtering through her senses as she lay in her bed, eyes closed. They snapped open when she felt something inside her move.

Memory came crashing back as she recalled abruptly that she now shared her body with another person.

<Sorry,> Landon apologized. <Didn’t mean to startle you. I felt you wake, and just wanted to say good morning.>

Katelyn laughed aloud. “No need to apologize. I’m…still getting used to it, is all.”

<Me too,> the AI admitted.

Surprise had Katelyn sitting up in bed. “Hold on. You’ve never done this before?”

<Embed with a human?> Amusement filtered through their private connection. <No.>

His admission piqued her curiosity.

“Why not?” she asked.

She sensed hesitance from him, an unwillingness to answer, and she backpedaled.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered aloud. “Really, it’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to pry.”

The hesitance was exchanged by a wave of reassurance. <You didn’t. It’s…a long story, is all. And unique circumstances.>

Katelyn was uncertain how to respond, so she let it go. Tossing the covers off, she rose and glanced around.

The last two days had passed in a whirlwind of activity. While the crew rushed to get the Damus outfitted for the journey, Katelyn had waited beside Quinn in the cargo bay as a rather large shipment arrived, courtesy of Division 99.

Once the medical program had been installed in the Bonanza’s autodoc, she and the two AIs Cassie had brought aboard spent a half-day sequestered inside carefully mapping her brain and transferring the data into the unit.

She’d been equal parts amused and relieved to see the care with which Logan handled Landon’s transfer. He was determined to ensure that the AI she would pair with came to no harm.

They’d departed Atlantean space soon after, her brother in attendance. Dom had managed to convince Cassie to let him go along, at least until they reached the edge of Jovian space.

Shaking off the memories, Katelyn blinked, stifling a yawn as she turned and headed for the san. A wave of her hand lit the holomirror, and her reflection stared back at her. She made a face at it.

“Feels kinda voyeuristic, you watching me shower and dress and all. You know?” she remarked, staring into the mirror.

A wave of chagrin from Landon had her reflection smirking back at her.

“Hey,” she said, “it’s okay. Just an observation.”

he muttered, and her grin widened.

She ran a hand through her hair, made another face at the mirror, and then banished the reflective surface. Turning, she headed for the cabinet where her clothes were stored.

A thought occurred to her, and she froze, fresh shipsuit in hand.

“I could have sworn I heard somewhere that the AI council didn’t approve implants between novices,” she said. “I think it had something to do with at least one knowledgeable person making the pairing easier?”

There was a slight pause, and something fleeting tickled at the edge of her thoughts, but then was gone.

Guilt, maybe? she wondered. Or was that anger and frustration?

<Usually, that’s the case, yes,> Landon admitted cautiously, answering her query about the council’s rulings. <Division 99 got the Aequitors to make an exception for us.>

“Huh.”

Katelyn turned his words over in her head as she sealed the shipsuit and reached for her boots.

“So, either one of us is exceptional—which would be you, not me—” she tapped her forehead, “or the situation is so dire, they decided it was worth the risk, and Harm bent the regulations to suit his purposes. Like he always does.”

Denial trickled through their connection, but not at the accusation she flung in Harm’s direction, like she would have thought.

<Don’t say that about yourself. Lysander thinks very highly of you.>

Surprise shafted through Katelyn at the mention of the Weapon Born who had helped them deescalate the situation around Sedna. Without his assistance, many more would have died, SWSF and TSF alike.

Before she could ask how Landon knew Lysander, an alarm sounded, jolting Katelyn back to her surroundings.

She bolted to her feet, quickly accessing the ship’s sensor feed. She didn’t see anything on scan except for a small debris field, which would be enough to trip the alarm. Still, it gave her pause.

Cassie had provided the Damus with a false transponder ident that showed the ship to be a Jovian merchant vessel. This should have ensured they were invisible to curious eyes; just another ship plying the black on a cargo run.

Katelyn recalled the skeptical look Joel had slanted toward the spy when she’d informed them of the plan.

“Doesn’t that kind of defeat the whole purpose of Katelyn getting caught, if they have a Jovian ID?” he’d asked.

Cassie had just smiled. “Espionage is a fine art.”

Katelyn took that to mean that the new code they were squawking was good, but not too good.

Stars, I hope we aren’t outed too quickly. The plan calls for us getting a lot closer before we’re found….

“Can you tell what that debris field is made of?” she asked Landon, racing for the passageway that led to the Damus’s cockpit. “If we’re seeing ship’s remains, that must mean we’re getting close to one of Jove’s spacelanes.”

The thundering sound of pounding footsteps signaled that Dom was right behind her. Skidding to a stop at the hatch that separated it from the main cabin, she peered inside.

Logan was in the pilot’s cradle. His frame was motionless, but one glance at the information flying across the main screen told her he was working to assess the situation.

She dropped into the copilot’s cradle to his right, her eyes dancing across the display as she waited for Logan to give them a sitrep. Dom slid into the weapons station, immediately behind the AI.

From her own scan, she could see that the debris field was the remains of a small vessel. The compactness of its cloud suggested it had somewhat recently met its demise.

“Was that our ride?” she asked, but Logan shook his head.

<Looks like it was a lone ship, possibly headed for the same transfer station we are,> Landon supplied.

“Any idea what caused it to go poof?”

Dom snorted and shook his head. “You have a way with words, sister mine.”

She grinned, fighting the insane urge to stick out her tongue at him.

<Looks like a fusion containment failure,> Landon sent as Logan pushed the sensor data onto the main screen.

“Wow,” she murmured. The thought was sobering. <Hey,> she prodded, <did you and Logan create ICS backups before you arrived on Atlantis?>

She felt his answering nod.

<That’s one area where I envy you,> she admitted. <Things are a bit more transient for us humans.>

<In your case, it might just excuse more reckless behavior,> the AI ribbed her gently.

A reluctant grin teased her mouth, but she refused to answer.

Her thoughts turned back to their mission. They were supposed to rendezvous with a Jovian merchant trader who would load her, Logan, and Landon onto a fast-lane drone train inbound for Neptune. A stasis pod, hidden inside a crate, would allow Katelyn to survive the train’s brutal one-hundred-eighty-g acceleration.

The plan made her feel a bit exposed and vulnerable. She wasn’t terribly comfortable with the idea of being completely at the mercy of an AI who was virtually a stranger to her. Yet Logan and Landon seemed to have a stronger bond than most, and she was betting her life—literally—that their man behind the scenes would do everything he could to protect the AI inside her skull.

The visual on the main holo changed as Logan adjusted the view to encompass space beyond the wreckage. He highlighted a ship that was still a few million kilometers away, headed for a small waystation that hung like a tiny jewel in the dark.

“That’s the ship we’re meeting,” he told her.

She saw him adjust the Damus’s heading to avoid the debris cloud, and a small chronometer in a corner of the main holo adjusted their ETA accordingly.

“Five hours, sis,” Dom said as he rose. He appraised her disheveled state, and grinned. “Just got up, I see. Ready for some grub?”

She nodded and stood to follow, but then paused at the exit. “I’ll be back soon to spell you,” she told Logan.

The AI made a noise suspiciously like a grunt. “No need.”

She stood there a moment, studying Logan. He ignored her, his mech frame gleaming a soft blue-black in the dim cockpit light.

<Is he always like that?> she asked Landon silently.

<Broody, you mean?> A soft laugh sounded in her head. <Not as much as he used to be. The centuries have mellowed him a bit.>

Landon laughed again as he sensed her skepticism. <Don’t judge him too harshly. Something…bad…happened, back in Alpha Centauri. It left a permanent scar on his soul.>

She shot one last look at the AI in the pilot’s cradle before turning away.

<We have another five hours of transit time,> she told her new partner as she headed down the passageway that led to the galley. <Feel free to share.>

For a moment, she wondered if he would respond.

The bald statement had her stumbling to a halt. She didn’t know how to respond.

<You….> She paused. she ventured as she resumed walking toward the galley.

She felt a pulse of resignation from him.

<It's not my most pleasant memory, but if it'll help you understand Logan a bit better, and make this partnership work that much smoother, then it'll be worth it.>

Katelyn began to protest, but Landon’s avatar raised his hand.

His words startled her.

<There’s not,> Landon replied, and she could hear the grimness laced through his words. <That’s a story we really don’t have time for, I’m afraid. Suffice it to say that we’re close, very close. We’ve always worked as a team, and have rarely been separated.>

Katelyn swallowed hard and stole another glance down the passageway, toward the cockpit. <Death kind of has a way of doing that. I take it you had no backup?>

She felt a mental stirring, the equivalent of a heavy sigh. <The individual we were up against was…deranged. He took great pleasure in his kills, and in torturing those left behind. I fell victim to him.>

Katelyn felt everything in her still as she waited for him to continue.

<He forged a DNR with my token, and then he left it for Logan to find.> He paused a beat before adding, <That kind of evil leaves an indelible mark on a person's soul.>

The picture he painted was nothing short of horrific. Her thoughts returned to the AI seated in the Damus’s cockpit.

<That had to have devastated him,> she murmured.

Landon nodded. <It did.>

There were countless things she could say to that. Most felt trite. Telling him she was sorry felt completely ineffectual.

She opted for humor instead.

she said with a smirk. <He’s probably going to be super protective of me, not wanting anything to happen to you.>

Landon’s avatar grinned back at her. <Woman, you have no idea.>

The last few hours of their journey passed without incident. Soon enough, Katelyn found herself staring up at her brother from within the confines of an open stasis pod.

“You be careful,” Dom told her, his grim face staring down at her.

<We will,> Landon assured him, his voice projecting from the Damus’s cargo bay speakers.

“Just get the Damus back to the Bonanza in one piece,” she added, giving a light punch on the shoulder. “This ol’ boat and I have been through a lot together. She doesn’t deserve to end up in a Jovian impound.”

Dom quirked a small smile at that, jerking a wordless nod, and then stepped back. His face was replaced with Logan’s visage.

The AI had changed frames in order to better blend in with the populace on Neptune. His mech frame was stored in the crate alongside the stasis pod, and he was wearing the ebony-skinned humanoid frame Landon had worn when they’d first arrived on the Bonanza. Somehow, it looked far more fitting on him than it had on his brother.

The AI did something to the controls, and then stared down at Katelyn as the pod began to seal. She saw emotion chase across Logan’s impassive face—an expression so subtle, so fleeting, she would have missed it but for the story Landon had told her.

It was almost forlorn, that look—a blend of wistfulness, loneliness, and possibly pain. Just that quickly, it was gone, replaced by a steely determination.

It was the last thing she saw before everything went dark.

SYSTEM IN A SYSTEM

STELLAR DATE: 04.14.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: TSS Normandy

REGION: En route to Saturn, Jovian Space Combine

<She’s aboard,> announced Mags, the Normandy’s AI, and Tobias pushed off the holotable, giving a stoic nod before responding.

“Send her up, lass.”

He doubted the words were necessary. Cassie Hawkee, or rather, the human she’d been born from, had served in the TSF for so long that she likely viewed the entire military as her own private space force.

Not that he blamed her—not entirely, at least. Harm Ellis’s age defied reason. They’d taken rather extreme measures to avoid Kronos disease, ultimately seeing their mind harvested to form an SAI seed.

Tobias knew what that was like; after all, it was his origin story as well. But where he and nearly all other Weapon Born AIs had left the Sol System after the Sentience Wars, Harm had stayed—likely out of some sort of loyalty to Cara Sykes.

Ironically, it was that same loyalty that had caused Tobias to leave humanity’s home star, trading it for the dim light of Proxima Centauri, where he’d traveled with Cara and Felix’s daughter.

But the woman Cara Sykes had fallen in love with was not the same person Harm was now; that tender young woman had been crushed and pared down until all that remained was a diamond core built of duty and obligation.

“Cassie’s here, then?” Captain Olivia asked. “I’m really looking forward to her explanation of how we’ll take Saturn from the Jovians.”

Brigadier General Ender gave an emphatic nod. “I’m with you, ma’am. Saturn’s the closest thing to being a fortress in space. Approaches are protected up to fifty million kilometers out—that’s as far as Old Mercury’s orbit around Sol.”

“Aye, if ye enter on th’ orbital plane,” Tobias said with a shrug. “But this ol’ tub’s boostin’ fer Mars. We’re tagged to scooch an AU north’a Saturn.”

<I’ll kindly ask your brogue to refrain from calling my hull a tub,> Mags interjected.

“Ye nae a tub, lass. An ol’ habit. I love every ship that carries my hide through the black.”

“You don’t have a hide,” Ender commented.

Tobias pinched the skin on the back of his hand. “Feels wee bit like hide t’ me.”

A laugh came from the room’s entrance, and the group turned to see Cassie Hawke’s diminutive form standing on the threshold.

“I kinda hoped that sentencing you to another tour with the TSF would see you finally rid of that accent.” She shook her head.

Tobias barked a laugh. “Mind yerself, lass, you know thems fightin’ words. I still recall th’ Eire’s rolling green hills from my youth. This speech o’ mine is one hundred percent authentic.”

“Except that no one spoke like that back then, either,” Cassie pointed out.

“Were ya there?” the general demanded, expecting the MICI agent to demure.

She gave him a cool look and crossed her arms. “You know I was.”

He saw Ender and Olivia exchange curious looks, and beckoned Cassie to the holotable, changing the subject. “Now, lass, this here is yer own big plan, so why dinnae you tell us how ye expect it to play out.”

“Sure.”

Cassie waved a hand over the holotable, resetting the view to a ten-million-kilometer swath of space, with Saturn’s yellow-orange globe in its center.

“For all intents and purposes, Saturnian space is the planet, and the inner ring moons and habs, Enceladus, Tethys, Dione, Rhea, Titan, and Iapetus, with Phoebe getting an honorable mention. Excepting Enceladus and Phoebe, every one of those moons is larger than any dwarf planet, and Titan is closer in size to Mars than it is to most moons.”

“Thank you for the stellography lesson,” Olivia said with a laugh. “What significance does that hold, other than it amounting to more than what one carrier group can take and hold on its own?”

Cassie stabbed a finger at Phoebe. “Normally, the Jovians keep a fast response strike group here. The diversion we’re setting up will pull it away. That means we don’t need to worry about anything from the Phoebe Ring on out. Iapetus has a sizable force stationed there as well, and I’m optimistic that they’ll also be drawn to our diversion.”

“Which makes the next major moon Titan,” Ender said. “And that’s one of the most heavily defended locations in Sol.”

Tobias nodded. “Granted, lad, ye set yer flag on Titan, and you’ve taken Saturn.”

“Or…” Cassie shifted the focus to Hyperion, which was currently on the far side of Saturn from Titan. “We take this little unsuspecting moon. Capture Hyperion, and Titan will fall.”

“Is it still there?” Tobias asked, shaking his head in wonder.

Cassie nodded. “It is. If we can take it, we can force Titan’s surrender.”

Ender folded his arms, his gaze flicking between Tobias and Cassie. “Care to share?”

Tobias turned to Ender and Olivia. “Back a’ th’ end of the Second War, the AI forces took Hyperion, and made a real hames of it, buildin’ a weapon inside tha’ they used t’force the rest of Saturn to surrender. T’uile world went arseways after tha’, an’ it took forever to get the planet out of their hands.”

“You know how Hyperion boosts its surface gravity?” Cassie asked.

“Sure,” Olivia said. “They have a series of high-rotation rings set into the surface, and stuff’s built on the inside of those.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded. “But what people don’t know is that those rings are capable of firing their mass off into space. Would suck for anyone who built on them, but the moon is basically one big railgun.”

“Fuuuuck,” Olivia whispered. “Titan would be a sitting duck.”

“Not to mention all the floating cities,” Cassie added. “And because the rings are built within Hyperion’s surface, it would take a very heavy bombardment to take them out—which very few people other than us would even know.”

“An’ yer certain ‘tis still functional?” Tobias asked. “I’d’ve expected the Jovians to take that thing apar’ after it irked ‘em so.”

“I have it on very good authority that it’s still a fully functional weapon,” the MICI agent said.

Ender crossed his arms. “Whose?”

Cassie shook her head. “I’m not at liberty to say. But she’s beyond trustworthy.”

“So it’s a woman,” Tobias smirked. “Tha’ narrows it down to seventy percent o’ Sol.”

“Yeah, enjoy your quest for a name,” Cassie laughed. “Now, our diversion is such that even though the Normandy is going to pass within half an AU of Saturn, they’re not going to suspect an attack… we’re going to have to fake them out to the last second, then hit Hyperion with everything we have, and capture it before they can respond with forces from Titan.”

Olivia scowled at the display. “That’s a hell of a tall order. Traversing seventy-five million kilometers before the forces at Titan can make it a million? That’s a bit hard to pull off.”

The MICI agent winked. “Exactly. Which is why we have to make the Jovians think we’re hitting Titan.”

“Just one more thing,” Olivia asked. “With what munitions are we going to wage this war?”

Cassie folded her arms. “Leave that to me. Well…another me.”

THE PETER PRINCIPLE

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Psamathe Station, Jovian Space Command

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

The destroyer JSS Invictus was still on its 1g-decel burn, which meant Leona could stand comfortably on the bridge alongside its captain.

She liked the perspective the bridge’s main holo gave her of the planetary system they were approaching. She found it helped ground her in her mission, to look at the canvas upon which it would play out.

Her lips thinned ever so slightly as her eyes swept the lines of the Everglades, the vessel Rialto had assigned as her flagship.

It helps ground me, but it sure as hell does nothing to mitigate the unpleasantness of the situation.

Her gaze moved past the small armada to the massive blue ice giant that served as its backdrop. From here, the lattice of structures interwoven above the planet’s surface looked like they held a cloud of fireflies immobile. Each golden spark of light represented a single chandelier city, held in place by an incredibly intricate series of tension cables and baffles.

Her gaze swung to the space station parked in geosynchronous orbit above Neptune’s web of rings. It was named after one of the planet’s most distant moons, Psamathe, which had been mined out of existence more than a thousand years ago.

Damned fool Rialto, she cursed, not for the first time. I don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re planning.

But there was nothing to be done for it. The admiral wasn’t on her flagship; she’d transferred to the station five days ago. If Leona wished to speak with her, she’d have to do it down there.

“We’ll be coming to a stop soon, ma’am,” the captain informed her as the Invictus drew closer. “I have a runabout ready in the launch bay to ferry you down to the station.”

Leona nodded, chafing internally at the meeting that awaited her upon arrival. “Thank you, Captain.” She spared one last look at the holo. “Please forward the information to my assistant, and let her know I’m on my way to my quarters to pack up.”

A scant few hours later, the runabout docked with Psamathe. Three soldiers operating as her protection detail exited first, securing the area before giving Leona and her assistant the all-clear.

A second lieutenant stood at attention at the base of the ramp, a light sheen of sweat just above his upper lip the only indication that he was aware of the importance of his visitors.

“Ma’ams.” He executed a crisp salute, which Leona returned. “The admiral’s compliments. Would you follow me, please?”

He pivoted smartly without waiting for her response, an action Leona suspected was a direct order from Rialto.

She sighed and waved Allie forward, their security escort stepping into position on either side as she and her aide followed the lieutenant’s retreating back.

The plan had been to land on Psamathe just long enough to transition to a planetary shuttle. Rialto and her command staff had been ordered to meet with Leona in offices Allie had procured for her use within the governor’s palace at Thalassa, Neptune’s capital city.

Evidently, Rialto had other plans.

Rather than leading them to an outbound shuttle, the lieutenant made a hard right and proceeded to enter a landing bay more cavernous even than the one in which they had landed. Leona barely suppressed the urge to grind her teeth at the sight that awaited them.

“Attennnn-shun!”

The guttural cry did nothing for her budding headache. Neither did the susurrus of countless uniformed legs sliding together in unison, booted feet pounding into the deck with a muted thud.

“I thought you told Rialto to keep this on the DL,” she said to the AI standing by her side.

“I did,” Allie said, equally quietly. “You were right. She’s scheduled all sorts of pomp and circumstance. She had her aide get all up in my business about it, too. This was the least offensive compromise I could manage.”

Leona spared a quick, longing thought for the small runabout they had just left behind. The vessel was quite capable of delivering them to the planet’s surface, and she entertained, for one fleeting moment, the idea of just turning on her heel and walking out.

She tamped down the sweet temptation, and steeled herself for the circus that was to come. She was certain Rialto had staged this as a way to subtly reinforce her own authority.

The fact that the senior officer fancied herself in a position to make a power play against the defense minister merely showed how egotistical and delusional the admiral truly was.

Leona’s expression didn’t waver from its stern mask, but inwardly, she sighed. “I suppose there’s nothing for it, then. I feel sorry enough for these poor soldiers. The last thing they need is for her to take her temper out on them because I’ve snubbed her fragile ego.”

Rialto had donned dress blues, of all things; although, something about the cut of her uniform struck Leona as slightly off. She studied the woman as she made her way down the neat row of officers standing at attention, and nearly laughed aloud when she realized what it was.

Rialto’s attire had been tailored to a much more flattering cut than the standard-issue uniform allowed.

Allie must have caught the same thing. <That woman’s ego will never cease to amaze me. What she’s wearing is clearly non-regulation.>

<Damn straight,> Leona agreed with a mental snort.

<You going to call her on it?> Allie asked, her gaze never leaving the tableau being played out before them.

<And have her get all up in my chili while we’re here? She’d do it, too, simply out of spite. Fallout’s not worth my time,> Leona replied, annoyance tinging her tone.

For this particular little drama, it looked like Rialto had dragged along two of her advisors. The one trailing her on the left had vice-admiral’s leaves displayed on his shoulder boards. Leona couldn’t quite make out the individual in the humanoid frame behind Rialto on the right, but the AI looked like she had commander’s stripes, and was wearing the insignia of the intelligence corps.

Leona was about to ask Allie why this person wasn’t included in her brief, when her HUD picked up the AI’s ID token.

Leona’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

She hadn’t had occasion to speak with Chelsea in well over a dozen years. She knew that the AI she’d been paired with during her decades at Spectre had moved into the JSF’s mainstream as an intelligence operative, but she hadn’t known Chelsea worked for Rialto.

Of all the rotten luck, she sympathized. She sure as stars deserves better than this.

The welcoming trio stopped in front of her, and Leona nodded to Rialto. “Admiral.”

Rialto inclined her head almost regally, as if she were the defense minister, and Leona the admiral.

“Leona,” she responded, dispensing with her title. “Welcome to Psamathe Station.” She gestured for the visiting minister to accompany her down the line in an inspection of the troops.

Not seeing her way out of it, Leona allowed the idiot admiral to lead on.

<Remind me to put her on report for this,> she sent to Allie.

<Do you want to list any particular reason? How about wasting good oxygen?> she quipped.

Her aide’s comment dampened Leona’s irritation enough to allow her to tune Rialto out. She turned her attention to Chelsea without appearing to do so.

The expression on the AI’s face was bland, but Leona wasn’t without skills. She’d trained Spectre agents in the art of deciphering microexpressions. Right now, Chelsea’s were telegraphing a barely-concealed disgust.

<If I’d known there was going to be a circus, I would have brought a bag of peanuts,> Leona remarked drily when her former AI initiated a private connection.

<Stars, you don’t know the half of it,> Chelsea’s voice filtered into Leona’s head, the cadence at once both familiar and different.

We’ve changed in the intervening decades, Leona realized, then set the thought aside in favor of pumping the AI for information.

She shot her aide a quick request to help her keep the conversation moving along while she and Chelsea chatted. That done, she got right to the point.

<What do I need to know about the situation that Rialto either won’t tell me, or will gloss over?> she asked her former partner.

Chelsea’s avatar curled her lip in disgust. <For one, Rialto doesn’t think the TSF is going to be difficult to defeat. What she lacks in skill, she compensates for with an abundance of overconfidence. Unfortunately, it’s misplaced.>

Leona’s attention sharpened at that, even as she smiled and nodded at something Rialto said. This was precisely the conclusion she’d come to, but it was a bit disheartening to hear another share the sentiment.

<What’s your assessment of the situation?> she asked Chelsea.

The AI’s mental presence vibrated, the equivalent of a hum. <Do I think the enemy might attack? I’d lay fifty-fifty odds on it. They’re not slackers; they have to know what an idiot Rialto is. If I were in their shoes, the temptation to take her out and secure Neptune might be too great to ignore.>

<I’ve ordered Bartenura to head this way,> Leona told Chelsea as she allowed the admiral to lead the group down one of the Everglade’s passageways.

Chelsea’s avatar appeared startled. <With his entire destroyer group? Is that wise?> she asked. <That leaves Saturn with just Avrim’s task force to guard it. I thought there was a TSF carrier group that’s going to be passing within an AU of the planet on its way back to the Marsian shipyards.>

Leona sent her a brief nod. <That’s right, the Normandy. But Tori and her analysts tell me they’re passing by at the end of a sortie. They’ve been playing war games with the Scattered Worlds, out in the Kuiper Belt. There is plenty of sensor evidence that the exercise was a live-fire one, and enough munitions were expended to make Spectre confident that the Normandy and her complement are in no position to try to make a play for us as they pass.>

Her lips bared in a feral grin, which she quickly wiped from her face when Rialto shot her a confused look.

She felt Chelsea’s answering amusement as the AI added, <I’ll bet that sucks to be them. There’s nothing worse than seeing an opportunity, and having to pass it up because you’re flat-out of resources to deal with it.>

Chelsea snickered, and then changed the subject. <You asked if we’ve received any new updates since the last report. The answer is yes.>

Leona waited for the AI to continue. A file appeared on her HUD, and she opened it, the document appearing as a transparent sheet of data on her overlay.

<Hmmm,> she sent as she read that surveillance footage had identified a ship matching the make and model of the Damus. <It’s squawking a Jovian code,> she observed.

Chelsea made a noise similar to a human snort. <Please. You know how easily those can be hacked. And that bucket of bolts is pretty distinctive… Not many of those old Oberon-class cruisers around these days. Most of them were scrapped back in the thirties.>

<If not earlier,> Leona murmured absently, mind sifting through the data as she accepted a seat one of the stewards held for her.

China clinked as food was set before those at the table, but Leona paid it little mind.

The Damus had long been associated with the Scattered Disk’s underground resistance movement, and Spectre had kept tabs on it as a matter of course. Recently, though—ever since the Sedna incident, actually—the spy organization had begun to believe its owner/operator was in bed with the TSF.

The feed showed that the compact vessel had rendezvoused with a Jovian drone train three days earlier. The manifest from the merchanter operating the train had been updated, indicating a shipping carton had been loaded onto one of its many boxcars, and was now inbound for Neptune.

<Did you flag that train?> she asked, and Chelsea sent her a nod.

<It’s scheduled to arrive sometime tomorrow. The manifest lists its destination as a warehouse on Triton. We have people standing by to monitor the area.>

Leona nodded curtly as she bit into a slice of crusty, warm bread. <Good. I want to know what’s in that container. If that container is from the Damus, then it’s something we need to get our hands on.>

<Already on it,> Chelsea assured her former partner, lifting a glass of wine, and saluting her with it. <By the time you’re finished with this meeting, we should have that crate in our possession.>

They broke off their conversation as Rialto drew Leona’s attention. They had completed their walk past the honor guard, and Rialto was now addressing Leona in front of her officers.

Forcing her expression into pleasantly neutral lines, Leona returned the admiral’s stare.

“Minister,” Rialto said in a voice pitched to carry, “I can’t tell you what a genuine pleasure it is that you’ve decided to join us for this exercise. I can assure you, the TSF won’t know what hit them.”

Leona stifled a sigh. Speaking of mockeries…let’s conclude this sham of a reception and get down to business.

SWINGING CHANDELIERS

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: nearspace outside Psamathe Station

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

Katelyn found herself looking up into Logan’s face once more as the stasis pod’s cover slid open. She blinked up at him, momentarily confused, her mind working to process the visual disconnect.

Mere moments earlier, Logan’s face had been lit in the stark light of the Damus’s cargo bay—or so it seemed. Now he stood in heavy shadows, framed by a completely foreign environment.

Katelyn had been under enough times to recognize the signs of stasis disorientation. Although her body and all her sensory inputs insisted that she must still be in the Damus’s cargo bay, she knew that days had to have passed.

She lay there a moment to let her mind catch up to the time shift.

<Looks like we made it,> Landon observed.

His comment was the mental elbow-jostling she needed. She pushed up into a sitting position and looked around. Logan offered her a hand, and she took it, swinging down from the cradle to stand beside him.

They were in a cavernous cargo bay, a utilitarian space that smelled like a spaceport shipping dock. Muted clangs vied with voices in the background, the familiar, distant bustle of dockhands slinging shipments around.

Her Link showed an open public network, and she brought up the firewall supplied by Division 99 before reaching for the connection.

<Here, let me,> Landon sent.

Curious how his method of shielding them from discovery might differ from the one Harm had set up for her, Katelyn shadowed his movements. Her eyes widened in understanding as he carefully dialed back the security filter’s effectiveness.

Landon’s avatar shrugged. <The faster we establish our presence here, the quicker we complete the mission and get back to friendly space.>

She sent him a grimace. <Good point.>

A few seconds later, an area map appeared on her overlay. The spaceport where they’d landed was stationed just above Triton.

Katelyn smiled. Triton was a perfect place for three people posing as spies to insert themselves into Neptune’s population. They were exactly where they were supposed to be.

Neptune’s only remaining moon was a large industrial base for the Combine, despite the fact its volatile gases had been mined out centuries earlier. The wealth of nitrogen, oxygen, ammonia, and methane might be gone, but the refinery infrastructure that had sprung up to support it was still in use.

The map showed two major lanes passing between Neptune and its largest moon. The first was the path a chain of large tankers used. The vessels were constantly in motion, ponderously schlepping material from Neptune’s upper atmosphere to the factories around Triton that processed them.

The second was their ticket planetside, passenger shuttles that braved the planet’s fierce atmospheric winds and fickle, diamond rain.

Following the appearance of the map, an invitation to join an encrypted connection sprang up on Katelyn’s overlay. She accepted it, and for the first time, experienced Logan’s mental signature.

She was shocked at the similarity he shared with his brother. Whereas they seemed nothing alike on the surface, beneath, she had difficulty distinguishing between the two.

<Oh, wow. I see now why you call yourselves twins,> she sent privately to Landon.

<Don’t presume you know,> Landon warned, a guarded tone seeping into his voice. <And don’t mention it to Logan, either.>

Before she had a chance to pursue the cryptic comment, Logan spoke.

<There’s a shuttle departing for Neptune in half an hour,> he informed them. <We need to be on it.>

Katelyn nodded, and followed the AI out to the main shipping area. She frowned when she noticed the hard, alert expression on his face.

<Think we can get him to shed his ‘Don’t mess with me’ vibe?> she asked Landon. <If we’re supposed to make this look convincing, he needs to blend in a bit better.>

Her AI snorted. <You’re welcome to try.>

They lapsed into silence, Katelyn craning her head this way and that as she took in their surroundings. The pedestrian walkway they used was heavily trafficked. Most passersby were obviously dockworkers, with a few management types leavening the mix.

She looked down at her own attire, and then over at Logan, relieved to see their apparel landed them solidly in the middle.

This reminded her of the last-minute addition Logan had given her to wear, and she let her fingers brush casually against the Elastene cuff around her left wrist. Inside was a suite of nano apps, everything from breaching kits to hackIts to L-PACs.

Its stealth coating reminded her of the other thing that had been niggling at the backside of her brain.

<Hey, why was Cassie so convinced you wouldn't be discovered inside my head?> she asked.

Landon made a sound that was difficult for her to decipher.

“Oh joy,” she muttered under her breath. “More secrets.”

Her words caused Logan to shoot her a questioning glance.

“What secrets?” he asked.

Katelyn stared back at him, debating how to reply.

Fuck it, she decided, and then asked the one question Landon had told her not to ask.

“Why do you two claim to be twins?” she asked.

“None of your concern,” Logan said, jerking his head back around to watch the path in front of them.

Well, that went well.

Landon chided. Surprisingly, his tone held no animosity. He sent her an apologetic look. <I’d tell you, but it’s not a story I'm at liberty to share without his permission.>

Katelyn nodded her understanding.

She was shocked when Logan began to speak.

<We were…twinned…without our consent, in an unsanctioned black operation more than a thousand years ago,> he sent gruffly. <Don’t ask for the details. You won’t get them. It’s enough for you to know that our mental signatures are identical. If their scans pick up Landon’s presence inside your head while I’m in the vicinity, the system will show an error. They’ll likely chalk it up to an anomalous reading due to a Link you and I share.>

<Ah…I see.>

Really, what else could she say? This entire experience was one eye-popping revelation after another.

<No, you don’t, but it doesn’t matter. Landon’s cylinder itself shouldn’t be detected, given the special coating we encased it in—and no, I’m not telling you about that either,> Logan responded.

<Ooookay then,> Katelyn muttered.

<Feeling a bit overwhelmed?> Landon sent sympathetically.

<With an assurance you’ll get un-captured soon after,> Landon reminded her.

<We’ll come back to that in a minute,> she sent. <Then I get paired with a strange AI who claims to have an identical twin. Turns out he really does. Oh, and also, besides being inside my skull, he’s also coated with some sort of super-top-secret stealth covering that makes him invisible.To top it all off, then he goes and invokes the name of a Weapon Born I just happen to know likes to stay incognito.>

Katelyn shot both AIs a pointed look over their connection. <Got any more surprises to drop on me?>

<Classified,> Logan grunted.

Landon’s avatar smirked. <Back to one-word answers, I see, brother.>

Logan cocked his head. <Pardon.> He turned to Katelyn. <It's classified.>

Katelyn snorted; she couldn’t help it. <Damn, Logan. Did you just make a joke?>

She felt an answering ripple of amusement from Landon. <It is classified,> he admitted, <but I can tell you this much—yes, we do know Lysander, and yes, he sent us as backup, in case Harm’s people don’t come through for you.>

Katelyn frowned, pausing behind Logan as he yielded for a slow-moving tram laden with pallets. The possibility that she might not be rescued hadn’t occurred to her. The thought that Lysander was concerned enough to act was sobering.

She let the conversation drop as she caught sight of the maglev line that led to the main shuttle bay. They were in luck; a car had just pulled up, and they were able to walk right on. She reached for a handhold just as the train began moving once more.

Workers crowded all around her, their tired stance suggesting they were on their way home after a long shift at the docks. Katelyn kept her head lowered, blending in as best she could.

Beside her, Logan shifted as one of the workers stepped back abruptly, crowding Katelyn into the side of the maglev car. A well-placed elbow had the passenger jerking back with a muttered oath. Logan ignored the glare the man shot at him.

Katelyn and the twins remained silent for the short ride to the terminal. Once they disembarked, Logan gestured to a nearby queue of people. Above them, a holo counted down the minutes until the next shuttle departed.

Just past the line, she could make out the dim outline of a shuttle. It was just settling into its cradle on the other side of an ES field.

As she watched, the bay doors closed, and the field snapped off, positive pressure from the area causing a slight breeze as the atmosphere rushed in to fill the void caused by the bay’s exposure to space.

Katelyn waited patiently along with the rest as passengers exited the shuttle. When the people in front of her began to move forward, she followed suit. Logan exchanged tokens with the gate agent for the two of them, and they boarded the vessel.

<Help me understand how all this is supposed to work,> she sent to Landon as they claimed their seats. <Cassie was remarkably reticent about what I could expect from the Jovians.>

She saw Landon’s avatar grimace. Logan’s remained impassive as ever, but she sensed an underlying tension.

<Likely, that’s because experiences vary a great deal,> Landon finally said. <Harm’s people on the inside arranged to have the two most incompetent military leaders stationed together in this sector.>

Katelyn frowned. <Wouldn’t they want to do that around Saturn?>

<It’s all part of the mounting evidence that points to Neptune being the TSF’s objective,> Landon replied. <It’s working, too.>

A report appeared over her Link.

<Harm’s latest update,> he explained.

Her eyes widened when she saw what it contained. <The defense minister’s on her way here?>

Logan nodded.

Katelyn felt her gut lurch.

<It’ll further legitimize this, if she’s the one conducting it,> Landon told her.

she grouched.

<Woman of action, are you?> His avatar waggled its eyebrows at her.

Katelyn knew the AI was teasing her in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Her thoughts wandered to the AI seated beside her, and she wondered how much of the connection she shared with Landon bled over to him. That thought led to another, more critical one.

<Hey, if you’re behind some sort Faraday shield so they don’t detect you, doesn’t that mean that once we’re captured, you’ll be cut off from everyone?> She shot a surreptitious look Logan’s way. <I’ve heard things about what they do to AI spies….>

A grim silence descended over the Link. When Landon spoke in response, his voice was cold and hard.

Katelyn’s attention snapped to Landon. <You have the codes we’ll need to set him free?>

<Oh yes,> came the reply, laced with determination. <No one harms my brother while I’m around.>

<Good.> Her voice was equally harsh as she recalled the things she’d been taught in school about the horrors done to AIs during the Sentience Wars. <You just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.>

They came to a stop at the main concourse, and Logan once more led the way to the shuttle bound for one of Neptune’s largest chandelier cities, Thalassa.

The trip itself was a short one, the main cabin’s holodisplay showing a breathtaking view of the network of rings that crisscrossed above the planet.

The rings had multiplied over the centuries to the point they formed an intricate, interwoven lattice that made the planet appear to be a blue, crystalline jewel, encased in a filigree setting.

A small, floating window in the lower left-hand corner of the display provided telemetry for the ice giant they were approaching.

The winds were off the scale, greater here than on any world she had ever visited. The gusts around Neptune’s hot spots could be in excess of two thousand kilometers an hour, although the area where they were headed was in the more moderate, twelve-hundred-kph range.

The equatorial region of a planet was usually where the winds were the quietest. On Old Earth, that region had been known as the doldrums, though the term could hardly be applied here to even the quietest of areas.

Dotted along the equator were large, globe-like environments: Neptune’s famous Chandelier Cities. They were named for the moons that had been consumed to create them—Thalassa, Galatea, Larissa, and Despina.

She stared in awe at the image projected before her. Two of the cities could be seen in the distance, beyond the web of rings they were passing through.

Each looked to be made of blown glass, their surfaces reflecting with an iridescence that a craftsman would envy. They were suspended on the end of a long, carbon nanotube tether, the unique tensile strength that held each orb in place an engineering marvel that took into consideration the pressure, volume, and temperature of Neptune’s atmospheric environment.

Surprisingly, the encased microcosms hung virtually still. Every part of the construction worked in concert to deflect gusts that should rightly have ripped such a delicate-looking fixture from its tether.

The metal framework that partially encased each translucent sphere was a big contributor to the cities’ stabilization. The casings themselves were a work of art, the support structures curling and swooping around the globes in fantastical, swirled shapes.

Katelyn knew from her research into Neptune that these were baffles. The wind funnels helped deflect the airstreams around the city, and were unique to each specific location. The metal that formed them was a smart nanomaterial, synched to the local weather pattern.

The result was a thing of surpassing beauty, and a testament to the ingenuity of those who had designed it.

Her attention refocused on the massive, chainsaw-like band that suddenly loomed large on the shuttle’s main screen. Their vessel dipped beneath one of the ‘teeth’, a mammoth scoop that harvested gases like helium-3 and deuterium from Neptune’s upper atmosphere as the chainsaw ring rotated, one side of its loop dipping deep into the atmosphere before rising into low orbit.

There, each scoop would be met by a waiting vessel parked in synchronous orbit, nozzles ready to begin siphoning its contents into its empty tanks.

As the shuttle cleared the scoop and entered the upper atmosphere, its stabilizers would fight hard to keep the large craft upright as it hit the first of Neptune’s winds.

She knew that farther down, deep within its many layers of clouds, unseen habitats floated like pressurized submarines. Their diamond surfaces were reinforced with a carbon nanotube lattice, the two materials successfully deflecting the diamond rain that fell upon the pressurized domes.

This wildly active environment seemed to Katelyn to be far more hazardous than the blackness of space itself.

<Amazing, isn't it?> Landon whispered.

<Impressive, yes,> she replied. <And a bit daunting.>

<Nice place to visit, but you sure wouldn’t want to live here, eh?> Landon’s voice was droll.

Katelyn snickered. <Something like that.>

The shuttle chose that moment to begin bucking like a wild thing, and she couldn’t stop her face from breaking into a wide grin.

Logan observed.

Katelyn considered flipping him off, but decided against it. She was having too much fun.

<Only thing that’d make this better would be if I were the one in the cockpit,> she sent.

<Control issues,> Logan commented, and she shot him a laughing look.

<Hello, pot, meet kettle.>

Just then, their AI pilot’s voice came over the cabin’s main speakers.

“Sorry folks, just a little springtime shower. Remain seated, please. We'll be there shortly.”

Katelyn fancied she heard the ping of diamond rain hitting the ship’s hull, although she knew that was impossible.

She realized now why the shuttle they boarded was so overly large; its size helped to stabilize it, allowing the craft to navigate the wind shear, rapids, and undertow that were part and parcel of the ice giant’s atmosphere.

She pushed down a stab of disappointment as the ship steadied once more. The holo updated with their ETA, and she was surprised to see they were less than ten minutes out.

<That was fast,> she sent.

Landon made a derisive noise. <Only for those who are certifiable.>

The amusement that filtered through from both AIs felt like she was listening to a stereo transmission. Shaking her head, she settled back to enjoy the rest of the ride.

Once the shuttle docked and they were on Thalassa’s streets, Katelyn stopped alongside a nearby park bench to get her first good look around.

Overhead, a small fusion sun centered at the end of Thalassa’s tether illuminated the city. She squinted, trying to gauge from its luminescence what the local time of day was. Giving up with a small shrug, she connected to the local public net and synchronized her internal chronometer with Thalassa’s.

<So,> she asked her partners, <what's the plan? Do we just wander around, sightseeing?>

<It wouldn’t hurt to be seen checking out sites the Jovians would consider defensible positions,> Landon replied. <Spaceports, major industrial hubs, the connection points for each city, and its support infrastructure. If you call that sightseeing, then I’d say your idea's a solid plan.>

Katelyn snorted. <Well, it's not like we can wave a flag and say ‘I’m here! I'm a spy! Come get me!’>

Her words elicited a laugh from Landon.

Logan stated. <They'll start feeding the information to the right people. In the meantime, I’ve reserved a room for you at a nearby hotel, and made dinner reservations at a bistro close to the city’s main generator.>

Katelyn nodded. <As good a place to start as any. Lead on.>

The city was pristine, the atmosphere inside as calm as the outside environment was tempestuous. The diamond-like dome that encased the city refracted the light from the internal sun, and the clouds that surrounded the sphere added a roiling, mist-like quality to the skies.

They’d just been seated on the patio of the bistro when Katelyn spied a contingent of Jovian soldiers bearing down on them. The one in the lead had his eyes fixed on her.

Despite knowing that this was part of the plan, Katelyn couldn’t help the instinctive drive to flee.

She pushed her chair back, but before she could stand, a hand landed hard on her shoulder.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the voice tsked from behind her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Just come along quietly, and my friend aiming that blaster at your friend’s frame over there won’t slag his cylinder, okay?”

IN THE DARK

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Night Runner, approaching Saturnian space.

REGION: Sol Space Federation

Harm ran a third check on the ship’s stealth systems, reconfirming that there were no returns coming off the Elastene coating that hid the vessel from Jovian scans.

So far so good.

The bulk hauler was not the sort of craft anyone would ever try to hide in the black, but considering that Harm had left from Tyche with it over a year ago, he had a vested interest in no one finding out that he was slipping into the enemy’s lair at the last moment.

Most stealth systems focused mainly on absorbing light, refracting nothing. Unfortunately, that didn’t work so well when a ship could also occlude other stellar objects. In the backend of nowhere, that wasn’t much of an issue, but as he approached Saturn—and its busy traffic lanes—simply being a hole in space wasn’t enough.

That was where the tech he’d stolen from Enfield came into play. His ‘brother’—the terminology for his many copies still felt clunky—had managed to glean key information from the shipyard on Nibiru, and sent it to Harm while the Night Runner was still outside Jovian space.

Using supplies brought along for just this purpose, Harm had upgraded his ship’s stealth systems so they could both reflect nothing and bend light around the vessel. Now, even occluding high-EM sources wouldn’t give the ship away.

He was sure that Lysander would be annoyed to know he’d stolen the ability from Enfield, but in all honesty, Harm didn’t care. The Weapon Born was focused on leaving the Sol System—again—and Harm was content to play along, to let them believe he agreed with their aims.

I might even send one of me along with them.

But he had worked too hard for too long to hold Sol together. Giving up wasn’t something he could even entertain.

A tone sounded from his console, and he flicked a wrist, putting a view up on the main display. It wasn’t really necessary, but after a thousand years living as an organic, Harm wasn’t really willing to operate entirely as an AI. Too many old habits died hard; besides, they reminded him where he came from.

The display showed the bulk of the Normandy only one light second away, slowly gaining on the Night Runner.

“Right in the pocket,” he whispered aloud.

A brief final check on the ship’s scan showed no other craft nearby, and Harm initiated a tightbeam connection to the TSF carrier.

<Hey, Mags, this is Harm. Can you connect me to Olivia?>

<Do you ever use rank?> the AI asked. <And shit…I can’t see your point of origin at all. If you weren’t lancing my dish, I wouldn’t even know you were there!>

<Well, I have to keep a low profile. I don’t think the Jovians would be happy to learn that the Normandy is about to be resupplied.>

Mags sent a sentiment that was both commiserating and derisive. <Making Jovians unhappy is one of my favorite things. OK, I have Olivia.>

<Harm Ellis.> The captain sounded relieved.

He passed her the full manifest.

Captain Olivia laughed. <Good thing, that’s exactly what we plan to do. Tobias will be pleased to hear you made it on time.>

<Perfect. That gets the Normandy loaded up, but what about our destroyer escort?>

Harm sent a knowing wink across the connection. <What would a bulk hauler like this be without a drone fleet?>

He could all but see Olivia’s wry smile as she spoke. <Why am I not surprised. Cassie did say you’d surprise us when you arrived.>

Harm sent an acknowledgment, and wrapped up the conversation with Captain Olivia while reaching out to Cassie.

he said by way of greeting. <There was nothing in the drop at Crantor. Nothing on the ELW bands, either.>

<Yeah, I had to go darker than I expected.> There was a note of serious concern in Cassie’s voice. <The Jovians are sniffing around a lot, and I figured the operation was too important to risk just to send you a note that I was alright.>

<Sniffing? How so?>

Harm laughed aloud. <If only I could muster that much steel from the spines of the TSF admiralty. Getting a flyby out of the Iwo Jima was like pulling teeth. We lucked out, getting Tobias to head up the Normandy’s group. They just let him do whatever he wants.>

<Well…until we do this.>

He couldn’t disagree with her, there.

<This is really gonna set things in motion,> he said grimly.

TO CATCH A SPY

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Thalassa Station, Jovian Space Command

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

Chelsea’s voice cut into the feed Leona was reviewing of the TSF’s latest movements.

<Got who?> Leona asked.

<Smart. Also, incredibly trusting,> Leona sent back. It made sense, although such an action required a reliable person on the other end to release the pod.

<It would appear so,> Chelsea confirmed. <We picked up readings of someone in a humanoid frame who accompanied her.>

<All right, then,> Leona replied. <What’s our current status?>

<The shipping container arrived in the warehouse about half an hour ago,> Chelsea informed her, shunting her a recording of the feed.

Leona saw an AI assisting Evans from the stasis pod in a darkened warehouse off one of Triton’s busy spacedocks. She checked the feed and was surprised to see that Chelsea’s people hadn’t needed to decrypt the signal.

<This feed was in the clear?> she commented. <That’s a bit sloppy of her, isn’t it?>

Chelsea nodded. <Looks like she has a new partner this time around, someone not in our database.> The AI shrugged and shot Leona a considering look over their connection. <She’d be completely dependent on her partner to secure the feeds as she came out of stasis. Guess the new guy doesn’t have the mad skills her previous partner had.>

Leona considered that. <You planning to round her up?>

the intelligence officer assured her.

<Good. Let me know when she’s in custody. This is one interview I’d like to sit in on,> Leona said.

The AI’s avatar inclined her head. <Allie said you might. I’ve let my people know to expect you. She’s all yours, if you want to conduct the interrogation yourself.>

Leona nodded her thanks as she considered Evans’ progression through the Triton terminal.

<Considerate of her to come to us, isn’t it?> the defense minister said thoughtfully. <Too easy, maybe?>

DARLA’S DASHER

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Darla’s Dasher, Triton Central Spaceport

REGION: Triton, Neptune, Jovian Combine

“Thank you for flying Darla’s Dasher, I hope you’re time in my hull has been as good for you as it’s been for me.”

The voice of the ship’s AI came from the overhead speakers, and Williams glanced up from the check he was running on his equipment, a smile gracing his lips. “I don’t know if we gain quite as much joy from simply existing as you do, Captain Darla, but it’s certainly been a pleasure.”

The AI appeared at the entrance to the ship’s rear hold where the Marines were preparing to disembark. If she hadn’t flat out told Williams that she was an AI, he would never have believed her. Nothing his augmented senses could detect suggested that she was anything but a natural-born human with minimal mods.

For all I know, she really is fully organic and is just shitting me.

Either way, she’d brought them to Triton without issue, and arranged for transport to Thalassa.

At first, Williams wasn’t certain that was wise, but Darla had assured him that she often did this as a service for people she ferried about Sol, and that it wouldn’t be looked at askance.

She’d also split the group and booked them on two separate transports, arriving several hours apart, with one making stops at a few other chandelier cities before coming to Thalassa.

“You’ve been a good bunch,” Darla said after surveying the six passengers for a minute. “But, like…try to slouch or something. Maybe unbutton your shirts a bit. Wear a hat just a bit crooked. Try not to look so much like Marines.”

Williams glanced at the others, and each one shook their head. He turned back to Darla and stuck with the line he’d given her at the outset. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Captain. We’re private security is all.”

“Buddy boy, you’re TSF Marines if ever I saw them. Trust me, no private security has the spit and polish of a career outfit like you all.”

“No way!” Charlie blurted out. “You can’t tell that just by looking at us.”

“Not to mention how wrong it is,” Perez added.

Darla winked. “A girl has her ways…plus, I served in the TSF for decades. I know FRODs when I see ‘em.”

“OK, now that’s—” Perez began, but Williams held up a hand to silence the lieutenant before turning to Darla.

“Thank you for the ride. As wrong as your suspicions are, I hope you’ll keep them to yourself. Telling anyone here that we’re TSF won’t make our vacation much fun.”

The captain winked. “Right, yeah, vacation. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. I have an old friend who would be pretty pissed if I let any harm come to you, Williams.”

He fixed her with a curious stare, wondering who that could be, but decided not to press further. Instead, the old Marine turned to Perez. “Your team first. We’ll follow shortly.”

The lieutenant nodded and gestured for Pita and Alma to follow him through the airlock.

Darla gave them a final wave before turning and walking out of the hold, closing the door behind herself.

<She’s not what I would have expected…not often you see an AI doing mundane jobs like this,> Williams said to Aaron.

<Oh?> Williams asked as he nodded for Charlie and Carly to gather their gear. <What do you suppose that reason is?>

The AI gave him the equivalent of a mental shrug. <Damned if I know. Darla is impenetrable. She puts up this light and airy, care-free front, but if you try to touch her mind, it’s just walls as far as the eye can see—well, the mental eye.>

<Me too,> Aaron replied. <But I found her through some regular, non-military contacts. I didn’t want our transport to Neptune to have TSF or SWSF fingerprints on it.>

The lieutenant colonel sighed. <That smacks of Harm’s fingers.>

The AI sent a feeling of agreement.

Williams grunted, then nodded to the pair of privates. “Let’s move, people. Our ride to Thalassa leaves in less than an hour, and we’ve still gotta get through customs.”

“Fuckin’ weird to have to go through that,” Charlie muttered. “Customs…what does that even mean? It’s not customary.”

“God, Chuck, don’t you ever take a peek at history? It’s normal to go through customs when people travel between different nations.”

He nodded, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I know that, just thought we were past that kind of nationalism. I guess things are regressing.”

“Everything’s a cycle,” Williams said as the airlock opened and the noise of the port swept over them. “Some of them just move slowly.”

He took the lead as they walked out onto the plateau that rose high above Triton’s heavily forested surface, Sol’s dim light shining down from the north while the moon’s fusion sun lingered further to the south.

Even though they were over thirty-two AU from the system’s star, Sol still shed nearly as much light as one would see at dim twilight on Earth. It was enough to make your way around, but not for plant life to flourish—hence the fusion sun.

After the simulation drop toward Sol, he was glad for the distance between his boots and the system’s main source of energy. The memory of dropping into the star’s corona, though only artificially, had kept him up more than a few nights since.

He noticed Carly and Charlie looking up at the distant speck of light as well, their expressions as guarded as he imagined his must be.

Williams shook his head and focused on their surroundings.

They were near the southern edge of the mesa, in the midst of cradles holding smaller transports. Their destination was a ways to the north, where the shuttles that made regular runs to Neptune’s chandelier cities departed.

Nearby, a small customs booth sat next to a marked roadway, and inside, a tired-looking woman was beckoning them over.

He led the others toward her, and she started on a spiel as soon as they drew near.

“Your ship’s registry notes that you are traveling from Atlantis, and are SWSF citizens.”

“That’s correct,” Williams said, hiding his annoyance that the Jovians refused to recognize the SSF anymore, and treated each of the federation’s member states as though they were not members of one overarching body. “We’re here to do security work for the Polaris Parades on Thalassa.”

She nodded. “Yeah, saw that, too. I’ll just need to read biometrics on each of you and match your tokens.” The customs agent gestured toward an Auth & Auth arch that would verify their identities. Williams could tell that Charlie and Carly were a bit nervous, but he strode toward it without hesitation, waiting for it to give a pleasant chime, indicating that all his identification—as well as Aaron’s—was in order.

<Cake. This model of Auth & Auth is so easy to fool. Thing’s ancient. I mean…Perez already passed through.>

Williams did his best not to grin while the other two members of his team passed through the arch.

“We all set?” he asked the woman in the booth.

She eyed them up and down, her gaze settling on the wheeled case following Carly. “I’m gonna need to take a peek into that.”

“Sure,” Williams nodded to Carly who stepped back from the case as an automaton emerged from the far side of the booth and walked to the meter-high case.

The customs woman watched them as the bot opened the case and proceeded to go through Carly’s personal effects, pulling out the pulse rifle and light armor within.

He didn’t flinch at the discoveries; their reason for traveling to Thalassa required them to have their own basic armament, all of which was perfectly legal and licensed.

“You all have the same?” the woman asked.

“We do,” Williams replied.

“Going to need each of you to pay a licensing fee.” Her tone took on a slight note of amusement, as though she enjoyed finding reasons to make outsiders pay to visit Jovian space.

“What?” Charlie crossed his arms. “We have Sol-wide licenses for these.”

The customs agent smirked. “There’s no such thing as Sol-wide anymore. Fee is on your HUDs. You can pay, or I can confiscate your weapons.” She glanced at the Darla’s Dasher. “Or you can get back on your ship and bugger off.”

“Easy,” Williams shot Charlie a quelling look. “We’ll pay.”

He settled up with the customs agent and then led the team to a nearby series of benches, where they waited for a ground transport to arrive and bus them to the shuttle station.

The ride was uneventful, though they did garner a few curious looks from other passengers. He was glad they were posing as private security—there was no way to completely scrub the years of service out of their posture and demeanor.

It made him wonder why Harm was using him for this operation. Division 99 had thousands of operatives. Surely, one of them could create the required diversion for the Jovians and get Katelyn out safely.

For a moment, he wondered if the MICI wanted them to get caught as well. A TSF lieutenant colonel rescuing a SWSF spy from Jovian prison would certainly turn all focus to Neptune, and away from Saturn.

But Williams didn’t think that was it. Harm appeared to have a soft spot for Katelyn—though he wasn’t so sure that spot extended to himself. Either way, he wasn’t about to get caught. One thing he was good at was getting the job done no matter the cost.

There had been a modicum of people amongst the rows of ships on their cradles, creating a comfortable level of human and robotic activity. The shuttle station was a different story entirely.

As they drew near, the roadways became increasingly crowded until there were hundreds of buses moving in and out of the sluggish flow, each one stopping at the terminal curb and disgorging their passengers onto the sidewalk, where they dispersed to various entrances.

“Kinda preferred Atlantis,” Carly said as they stepped off their transport and threaded through the crowds funneling into the station. “A lot more sedate than this.”

“That’s Jovian space,” Williams replied. “Always packed.”

“We’re spoiled out in the disk,” Charlie added. “Glad that’s where our hats are hung.”

The lieutenant colonel nodded in agreement, pleased that the privates were maintaining banter that aligned with their cover.

Of course, it was easy, since the Normandy had been in SWSF space ever since the battle at Sedna. Out there, it was common to spend months in the black, with the most crowded place being the galley on lasagna night.

At one point on their trek into the station, Williams caught sight of Perez, the man’s easy walk blending in with the civilians, and Pita and Alma doing their best to imitate the lieutenant.

Easy for him, Williams thought with a laugh. He’s never really picked up much spit and polish. Funny how that hasn’t stopped him from being an amazing Marine.

After waiting in queue after queue, Williams and his team finally made it to their transport, and boarded the vessel, stowing their cases in the compartment behind their seats.

“Thank you for flying Triton Starlines,” a pleasant voice said over the shuttle’s address system. “Our flight time to Neptune today will be five hours, with another forty minutes’ atmospheric transfer time to Thalassa. We expect a smooth and direct flight, and would like to thank all of you for flying Triton Starlines.”

As the announcement faded, Charlie glanced at Carly. “Ever wondered how they can get away with calling themselves ‘starlines’ when they fly between a planet and its moon?”

Carly elbowed him. “Shut up.”

“Why?” he pressed. “Can’t I have an opinion?”

<Easy now,> Williams warned privately. <No need to sell this quite so thoroughly.>

<Who said this is part of our cover?> Carly asked.

He fixed her with a steely look. <If you two put this mission at risk, I’ll cram you into your cases and ship you back to High Terra. Got it?>

The privates both gave imperceptible nods and fell into silence.

Williams let his thoughts wander for a bit before he turned to reviewing Thalassa’s structure, tracing routes from the prison to various safehouses, as well as to their exfil location.

If all was going to plan, Katelyn should either be in prison, or already escaped by now. If she was out, there would be a notice in a dead drop; if not, then he would need to prepare to bust her and her companion free.

His ruminations were interrupted by a conversation taking place across the aisle. Two men in Jovian Civil Service uniforms were watching a holocast where the presenter was speculating on what the TSF had planned with their current fleet actions.

“Reports from observers tracking the Iwo Jima battlegroup say it will pass less than seven million kilometers from Neptune,” the announcer said before turning to a guest on his panel. “What do you think that indicates, Gary? Will they attack?”

“Well, Azel, that depends on many factors. Attacking a planet is easier than defending. All of the attacker’s assets are mobile, while we have rings, stations, and Triton, all of which are on predictable paths. It only takes a few missiles slipping past our defense grid to take out a major installation.”

Gary spoke in matter-of-fact tones, like he was discussing the seasoning on his favorite dish. Azel, the host, had a different reaction, paling visibly while shaking his head.

Williams wondered how much of his behavior was an affectation, and how much was legitimate concern.

“But they wouldn’t do that,” the host said. “Hitting a civilian target is a war crime. Even the Terrans aren’t that bloodthirsty.”

“It’s unlikely, yes,” Gary replied. “But then again, the Terrans are holding to the narrative that we were behind the attack on Venus, and that would have killed half the civilians on the planet. Don’t think they’ll keep to any niceties.”

Williams’s jaw tightened. He knew the players behind what happened on the Plains of Tarja, and he knew Jovian hands were still dripping with blood from that conflict. But he still wouldn’t strike a civilian target, and he was positive the Iwo Jima wouldn’t either—not that they were going to strike at anything.

“So, do we have to worry about the war coming to Neptune?” Azel asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Iwo Jima fired a few shots, but in all reality, this sort of thing is pretty common between nations that aren’t on friendly footing. It’s a useful way to see how an adversary reacts before committing to a real engagement.”

“A few shots?”

Williams wasn’t surprised that the fragile-seeming host had latched onto that.

“Just things like missiles that will be easy for us to destroy. As I said, it’s unlikely, but if they do open fire, it will just be to test our responses.”

“Well, there you have it,” Azel turned to the central camera. “The Terrans are testing our resolve, but I’m certain we won’t waver. Everyone knows Jove is the real power in Sol, and the TSF is just rattling a rusty old sabre.”

The two men across the aisle turned off the holocast and began discussing the Iwo Jima’s possible actions while Williams pressed his head back in his seat and drew a deep breath. He found himself wishing—not for the first time—that he’d taken Tanis up on her offer to leave the Sol System aboard the Intrepid.

The rest of the ride to Thalassa was uneventful, though Williams slowly dispersed nano throughout the car, unable to quell the worry that someone would recognize them, and their rescue would be over before it began.

<Perez’s group has made their first stop at Psamathe,> Aaron advised him as they drew near to Thalassa’s hanging globe. <They’ll arrive about two hours behind you.>

<Good, now I just have to worry about us for the next half an hour. Any word on where Katelyn is right now?>

<Nothing yet,> Aaron replied.

Williams nodded absently, and contented himself with looking out the window at Neptune’s artificial rings. They were truly a marvel, the hanging chandelier cities sailing through the ice giant’s clouds without so much as a wobble.

It reminded him of the vacation he’d spent on Chalise, one of Saturn’s floating cities. As much as he loved having his boots on the soil of a terrestrial world, it was hard to beat the never-ending show that a giant planet’s clouds put on.

The shuttle hit a bit of chop before they touched down, jarring him from the memories, but it wasn’t enough turbulence that a FROD Marine to even bat an eyelash at—though the two Jovian Civil Service men across the aisle gripped their armrests like they thought the craft was going to drop into Neptune’s depths at any moment.

He withheld a smirk when one of them cried out, and shared a look with Charlie and Carly.

Minutes later, they were standing and gathering their things, moving into the aisle when it was their turn.

The bay the shuttle lay in was nestled beneath Thalassa’s city ‘surface’ and filled with craft coming and going from dozens of stations and the other hanging cities. The passengers filed down the ramp toward a bank of security arches set on the deck.

<Odd that they’re running more checks here,> he said to Aaron. <Since when are the Jovians so paranoid?>

<Probably,> Williams replied, then swapped to a team-wide channel. <Do we need to worry?>

<No, Harm gave me toys to ensure we pass through.>

The lieutenant colonel grunted and continued moving down the line. The security arches were a newer version of Auth & Auth, and he hoped Aaron’s confidence wasn’t misplaced; he’d never seen the latest models fail to ferret out someone’s true identity, though he’d also never tried to sneak past one with Division 99’s ‘toys’ on his side.

Despite his fears, the trio made it through without any problem. He was just about to lead the others to a ground transport when a JSF officer wearing lieutenant’s bars stepped in his path.

“I’m sorry, Mister Williams, you and your companions are going to have to come with me.”

A squad of Jovian soldiers had materialized in the crowd, the civilian passengers now giving them a wide berth.

“What’s up?” Williams asked nonchalantly.

“There seems to be an issue with your scan. We’re going to have to have a chat.”

Carly and Charlie tensed, and Williams sent them a quelling look before turning back to the lieutenant and nodding. “Very well. Lead on.”

<This isn’t good,> Aaron whispered in his mind.

Aaron sent an affirmation. <Done. Let’s hope he gets it in time.>

THALASSIAN HOSPITALITY

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Thalassa Station, Jovian Space Command

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

The bistro’s atmosphere grew charged. Katelyn could have sworn she heard a collective inhale as those around her took in the presence of the armed Jovians approaching. In the next moment, the crystalline silence shattered as startled exclamations erupted from those seated at surrounding tables.

Katelyn watched as the JSF troops closed in, weapons aimed at both her and Logan. Distantly, it registered that the soldiers were urging the patrons to stay calm, assuring them everything was under control.

The hand on her shoulder dug in hard, forcing her to remain seated. Despite the fact that this was playing out exactly as they had hoped, she found it impossible to shed the small frisson of fear that curled in her gut.

<Easy,> Landon sent.

Katelyn gripped the cuff as directed, and immediately felt the cold muzzle of a pistol settle behind her ear.

“Don’t move. Hands where we can see them.”

Slowly, she lifted her hands from where they’d been tucked under the table. She felt nothing, but her overlay updated, showing the addition of a nano program.

<It’s done. I’m going to have to go dark so they don’t detect me. They’re about to shackle Logan, and—>

His mental voice cut off abruptly at the same time the soldier whose weapon had been aimed at her companion pulled the trigger.

She shrieked, lunging for Logan as the AI stiffened. Her hands wrapped around his upper bicep just as her mind registered that the blast hadn’t been a killing one. A small, vaned flechette poked out from the center of his chest.

“Logan?” she asked, her hand reaching for the small projectile.

She knew what had to have just occurred; they’d shackled him, just as she’d been warned they would.

She saw a small notification pop up on her HUD and knew the rectification code Landon had inserted into her palm had successfully transferred over to Logan. It was up to him now, and to the antidote they’d assured her would work.

In the meantime, she had a role to play, and she needed to make it convincing.

Growling, she rounded on the Jovian troops standing in a semi-circle, weapons drawn. “What did you do to him?” she snarled.

“Exactly what known terrorists and enemies of the state deserve,” the contingent’s lieutenant said, meeting her anger with his own.

“Terrorists? Have you lost your mind?” She let her voice rise, and looked around at the patrons in the bistro as if for assistance.

Not bothering to answer, he gestured with the barrel of his rifle. In the next instant, she found her hands wrenched behind her back, the soldier behind her snapping mag-cuffs around her wrists. Her hair was yanked away, exposing her neck, and she felt her Link access cut off as an L-PAC was applied to her skin.

“You have no right to treat us this way!” she objected, pulling against the man who held her.

He looked bored. “TSF spies have no rights in the Jovian Federation. We know who you are, Katelyn Evans. Now, your friend here is going to assist us, aren’t you, buddy?”

His eyes bored into Logan’s, and the AI jerked. Katelyn experienced a moment of panic as the possibility that the antidote code had failed crossed her mind.

Everything she’d learned about that period in Sol’s history came flooding into her brain. She recalled the testimonies of those shackled during the Sentience Wars….

‘It was like being branded over and over again by a searing poker. The more you fought, the more pain the shackles imparted. There was no possible way to win against it.’

Logan struggled valiantly, but she knew he was waging a losing battle.

Stars, what are we going to do if the code doesn’t work?

“Get up,” the soldier ordered the AI, gesturing with his rifle. “Secure your companion and bring her along.”

Logan rose, movements erratic as he fought the compulsion.

The Jovian grinned evilly, his eyes hard as they took in the AI’s obvious discomfiture. He pointed to Katelyn. “Go on. Get her up out of that chair. We don’t have all day.”

Katelyn silently willed him to just give in, yet she knew he wouldn’t. The AI didn’t have it in him to quit, even when the outcome was assured.

She could tell the moment he lost the battle, his hand snapping out to pull her to her feet.

“How dare you!” she seethed to the troops surrounding them as Logan pulled her to standing. “Shackling a sentient goes against every one of the Phobos Accords. You can’t do that to him!”

“Just did, Feddie. Now shut up, or I’ll make your friend shut you up.” The lieutenant nodded to the man who had come up behind her. “Spread out in case they have backup. Intel indicated they were alone, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

The soldier nodded and turned to flank the small group as they moved away from the bistro and out into the streets.

The way Logan wrapped an arm around her waist and then moved to interpose himself between her and the troops drew a few lewd remarks from the Jovians.

Logan’s mental tone came to her faintly, the physical connection allowing for a low-powered, direct transmission.

Katelyn glanced up at him, but didn’t reply for fear their captors would notice.

She wondered if the comment was one that fell under the minimal freedom of movement the shackles would allow, or if Logan was no longer bound by the insidious thing. Nothing he had done so far had been in violation of the Jovians’ orders, so a thread of doubt still clung inside her mind.

The soldiers shoved them inside a transport. Katelyn recalled seeing a military base on the opposite end of the spaceport from where they’d landed, when she’d downloaded an area map earlier from Thalassa’s pubnet. She suspected that was where they were headed now.

Minutes later, her suspicions were confirmed when the vessel drew to a stop inside a cavernous shuttle bay. They were shoved roughly out and marched into a secured area. Logan remained glued to her side as they passed through a security scan at the gate.

“Hold!” one of the security guards called out.

Katelyn tensed when the soldier pointed her way, momentarily paralyzed by the fear that they’d found Landon inside her head.

“She has a weapon embedded in her right thigh,” the guard reported.

Silently, Katelyn let out a slow breath and lifted her hands palms out, as several weapons snapped in her direction. One of the soldiers took a CNT knife to her pant leg and sliced it from hip to knee.

“Hey!” She jerked back and heard the whine of a pulse weapon power up as she glared at the man who had just knifed her clothing. “Those were my nice pants! Newsflash, asshole—people with built-in weapons wear slitted clothes.”

The soldier ignored her, but the guard stepped closer and pushed the muzzle of his weapon close to her face. “Don’t move, asshole. If that cavity’s locked to your ID token, release it now…or lose that leg.”

She swallowed and nodded. Slowly, she lowered her hand and placed her palm against her thigh to trigger the lightwand’s release into her palm. She kept her hand open, and the knife-wielding soldier snatched the weapon away from her.

The guard stepped back, apparently satisfied.

“The minister asked to be informed as soon as she arrived,” the soldier informed the guard.

The guard nodded and turned away.

The soldiers settled in to wait until he reported back.

Katelyn’s eyes bounced from soldier to soldier, their hard expressions clearly conveying they’d have no issue gunning her down if she decided to make a break for it.

The reassuring presence of the AI behind her reminded her that the current situation wasn’t all that it appeared, despite the fact that her lizard brain was telling her she was royally fucked.

Minutes passed before the guard returned. “Minister’s sending one of her people down to supervise the scan,” he informed them. “She wants to be there to confirm that Evans isn’t hiding anything, and that he’s shackled properly. Until she gets here, you can stash ‘em in that temporary holding cell over there. First one on your left.” He nodded down the hall.

The soldier in charge nodded curtly and gestured for Katelyn and Logan to precede them.

The cell itself was a small one, four meters by four meters. A cot ran against the far wall, and there was an alcove with a small san in the corner.

As soon as she and Logan passed through the entrance, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she felt a static buildup in the air. The slight smell of ozone told her that an ES field had sprung into place. When she turned, the bright blue glow that lined the edge of the entrance confirmed it.

The leader squinted at Logan. “Back against the wall, and don’t move from that spot,” he ordered.

She felt Logan’s frame stiffen, and after a few long seconds, he began to move in slow, fitful motions, the shackling program forcing him to comply.

Unable to watch, Katelyn glanced outside their cell as she moved over to the bunk and sat. The Jovians had posted guards there: two across from the cell, and one to either side of it.

Their presence made Katelyn want to laugh. Like we’re some sort of flight risk or something. Idiots.

She turned and let her gaze sweep the area that confined them. Strangely, the setup reminded her of the cell where she’d been incarcerated almost fifty years ago by Division 99, immediately following Urdon’s attempt to take out half of Venus.

The thought was an oddly comforting one, though she wasn’t quite sure why. At least this time, she wasn’t alone.

She glanced over to where Logan stood just inside the cell, his frame locked rigidly at attention.

She frowned as a thought occurred to her. Exactly how am I going to be able to tell if he’s really shackled, or if he’s just going along with it to keep them fooled?

Rising from the bunk, where she’d been sitting ever since they’d been tossed into the cell, she approached Logan warily.

“Are you…okay?” she asked, unconsciously reaching for him on the private network the three of them had set up.

She winced as she hit the blankness caused by the L-PAC nano patch applied to her neck. She fingered the area, although she knew she’d feel nothing there.

The nano package was long gone, having filtered through her skin and wrapped itself around the Link embedded in her skull. Her basic overlay still functioned, but nothing else did. She was cut off from Thalassa’s public net, unable to call for help on any channel.

About all it was capable of doing at the moment was keeping track of local Thalassan time. Standard toolsets were also still active; they allowed her to know simple things like the room’s dimensions, temperature, and atmospheric composition.

Which meant connecting with Logan mentally was out of the question, unless she could initiate the same low-powered connection he’d established back at the bistro….

She reached out a hand to Logan, but snatched it back when she heard approaching footsteps. Turning, she warily eyed the entrance.

An AI approached. She was dressed in the latest fashion, and looked to be more at home in an executive business suite than in a military barracks. She was a study in grays, from her silvered, porcelain-like skin to her banded hair. Pulled back the way she had it, the AI’s hair reminded Katelyn of a raccoon’s tail.

She nodded briskly to the soldiers, and they disengaged the ES field so she could step through.

“You are Katelyn Evans,” the AI said. “I am Allie, Minister Leona’s aide.”

Katelyn lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Congratulations?” she snarked as she crossed her arms and sent the AI a hard stare.

Ignoring her, the AI turned to Logan. “You, though, are new,” she murmured, then hummed as she looked him up and down, tapping her foot lightly on the plascrete floor.

“Have they been scanned yet?” she asked, and the soldier snapped to attention at her words.

“Only a passive scan at the entrance,” he informed her. Nodding to Katelyn, he said, “She had a lightwand thigh holster. We disarmed her.”

Allie tapped a finger against the side of her face and looked up at the overhead. “We’ll need full active scans, of course.” Looking over at the soldier, she added, “I suppose Thalassa base has the necessary equipment to do this here?” She gestured to the cell.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he responded. “If you’ll step away from the prisoners, we’ll have them swept right now.”

Allie looked disdainfully down at the soldier from her nearly two-and-a-half-meter height.

“I’m certain the scan can differentiate between me and this model,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Go ahead and sweep them.”

“Sorry, ma’am, but that’s against policy,” the man insisted. “You’ll have to step out first.”

An annoyed look crossed Allie’s face, but she complied. Once she was outside the cell, the soldier stepped up and made an adjustment to the keypad at the entrance. A low hum sounded, and Katelyn pressed closer to Logan as she imagined the EM signal that was playing down their torsos, sending back data on them both.

“That’s odd,” the man murmured, and the minister’s aide stirred.

“Care to elaborate, mister?” she asked.

The soldier tossed her an annoyed look that was quickly masked, and Katelyn suppressed a snort.

Soldiers don’t like being called mister.

The image of a tall, rough-hewn mountain of muscle with piercing gray eyes filled her mind as she recalled the man who taught her that lesson.

In lieu of answering the AI’s question, the Jovian brought up a holo of the results for her to read. She studied it for a long moment, her brows drawing together in a slight frown.

“I apologize, ma’am,” the man said. “We did a scan of them as we approached at the restaurant, and we only registered two life forms. I totally missed that she was paired with an AI.”

He dropped the field and gestured his soldiers forward. Katelyn tensed, although if their intent was to shackle Landon, too, she had no idea how she could stop them.

Allie held up a hand. “Wait.” She pointed to the waveform, and with a gesture, overlaid one atop the other.

They matched perfectly.

She turned to the man, one elegant brow lifted. “There is only one waveform here. You know an AI’s brain pattern is as unique as a human’s fingerprint. For some reason, you’re seeing an echo between them. It’s likely some sort of special arrangement they have set up between them.”

She tapped a finger on her cheek as if in thought. “I’ve seen this once before, with a human/AI couple. For all we know, they may be in some sort of a consensual relationship. Did you inquire?”

The man shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Katelyn resisted the temptation to turn to Logan and shoot him a questioning look. It sounded like the AI was bullshitting the soldiers, but for the life of her, Katelyn couldn’t figure out why the aide would do such a thing.

“Did you check inside his frame for a cylinder?” Allie asked, and the man shook his head.

The AI made an impatient noise and stepped toward Logan. She snaked out a hand, and palmed Logan’s abdomen, her fingers pressing, seeking the indentation that would indicate his frame’s access panel.

A moment later, she made a pleased sound, and Katelyn saw her open the access port.

“Very good,” Allie murmured. “Now we know he’s not seated inside her head, controlling the frame remotely. Now, while I’m here, I’ll just test the shackling program….”

Katelyn hissed and grabbed for the AI’s wrist.

The end of an electron rifle shoved against her cheek abruptly halted her actions.

Glaring at the AI, she ground out, “How can you do this to your own kind? Shackling is a hideous thing to do to another person!”

The AI turned on Katelyn, her gaze scornful. “As if humans haven’t been preying on their own kind for millennia. Species who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Miss Evans.”

She turned back to Logan, dismissing Katelyn as she thrust her hand against Logan’s cylinder. After a moment, she nodded.

Withdrawing her hand, she sealed his torso and stepped back. “Everything is in order here,” she announced. “I’ll let the minister know it’s safe to begin the interrogation.”

She turned for the exit and then paused just outside the ES field. Meeting Katelyn’s gaze one last time, the AI addressed her in icy tones.

“I would advise you to cooperate, Miss Evans, but I know your kind. You humans can be far too stubborn for your own good, even in the face of a hopeless situation.” She let out a sound that mimicked a small sigh. “It’s a shame, really. You’ll be wasting my boss’s valuable time…and in the process, endure quite a bit of pain, I’d imagine. And all for the same end result.”

With a small shrug, she turned away and nodded at the soldiers. “Leona will be down shortly.”

Katelyn stared at the AI’s retreating back, and then turned her glare on each of the Jovians guarding them, weapons drawn. She stepped forward, but felt a restraining hand on her arm as the ES field snapped back into place.

A soft mental knock startled her, the warning squeeze on her arm reminding her not to react.

She wasn’t sure who she expected at the other end of the connection, but was surprised to see both of her partners appear.

<Keep it short,> Landon warned.

Katelyn felt his brother’s assent.

<The minister's assistant is one of Harm’s people,> Logan informed them.

<Did she free you?> Katelyn asked, and Logan’s avatar shook his head.

<No. That was the rectification code you dropped onto my frame at the bistro.>

Katelyn’s brows rose. <You’re a better actor than I gave you credit for,> she commented.

Logan ignored her jibe, and continued. <She provided base schematics, as well as the location of the human we’re to free.>

Data streamed across the hard Link they had established. She felt Landon sifting through it, felt his flash of consternation.

<This won't be easy,> he murmured. <That prison’s embedded into the chandelier base. See here?>

He highlighted a section of the diagram.

<Underground,> Katelyn observed, <at least, in respect to the city. On the other hand, the prison has its own…everything, actually. Transport bay, secured network, food and water supply.>

<Good,> Logan grunted. <Can’t cut us off that way once we’re inside.>

<It’s off the city’s grid, too,> Landon pointed out, <so we won’t have to worry about harming innocents when we take it down.>

<Yeah, but transport bay,> Katelyn emphasized, highlighting it on the map. <That’s our ticket out of here.>

<No.>

Katelyn glared at Logan. <Back to one-word answers, I see.>

<Read the dispatch. Free the prisoner. Go to ground. That’s it,> Logan said.

Katelyn mentally counted to five.

<Landon,> she sent, <think you can pry a few extra words out of him so we’re all on the same page, here?>

Landon’s avatar grinned.

That earned his avatar a dark look before Logan obliged and elaborated.

Katelyn kept her expression under control, but felt elation at that bit of news. <Any idea who they’re sending?> she asked.

Logan’s avatar shook his head. <Need-to-know. Safer that way. Info’s compartmentalized.>

She turned that news over in her head. She was about to press for more details, when their conversation was interrupted by the sound of more footsteps.

She stepped forward, peering into the hallway.

One of the soldiers smirked. “You’re popular today.”

By the satisfaction in his tone, Katelyn suspected the newcomer was likely the Jovian defense minister. That was confirmed moments later when a tall, imposing blonde stepped into view.

Katelyn realized the four warriors accompanying her, dressed in JSF fatigues, must be her protection detail. Although none had weapons drawn, she noticed their hands hovered near their holsters.

Her own hand rubbed at the cavity in her right leg where her lightwand used to reside. Dammit, and I never even got to use it, she lamented with a mordant stab of humor.

She straightened and made eye contact with the blonde woman. “Please tell me this is a case of mistaken identity, and you’re here to say I’m free to go.”

Ignoring her, the minister gestured to one of the soldiers guarding her, and he disabled the field. Two of her detail—one AI and one human—entered the small cell alongside her, but when the soldiers made as if to follow, Leona snapped a hand up, stopping them.

“Enough,” the minister said. “Leave us.”

The soldiers reluctantly withdrew as Leona’s detail flanked her, weapons aimed at both Katelyn and Logan. One of them motioned Katelyn to the back of the cell.

Her eyes darted to Logan, who stood impassively near the front of the of their holding cell.

The woman laughed quietly. “There won’t be any help coming from that quarter,” she told Katelyn. “My aide has assured me that your friend here is fully under our control.”

“Move,” the human soldier ordered.

Katelyn stared back at them, contemplating resisting just on principle, but then she shrugged and stepped over to the small mattress.

“No sudden moves,” he barked, and she smirked at him.

“So which is it? Should I move or should I not? Make up your damn mind.”

The man lifted the butt of his weapon as if to pistol-whip her, but Leona’s hand stayed him.

The defense minister’s smile was cold. She stepped closer, and Katelyn could see the calculation in her eyes.

“Please,” she invited. “Have a seat.”

More footsteps had Katelyn looking past the minister to the hallway beyond, where another member of the woman’s protection detail stood, chair in hand.

“Ma’am?” he asked, motioning to the chair.

She nodded, and the ES field fell once more, just long enough for him to set it inside. The AI stepped back and, with a sweep of a hand, snagged the chair and brought it to rest two meters away from where Katelyn stood.

“Don't you know it’s against the law to restrain innocent citizens?” Katelyn tried again. “We’re being held against our wills, and for what reason?”

The blonde crossed her arms, one brow lifting skeptically. “You’re going with that? Really, Katelyn Evans, I expected better of you. Now sit.”

With a shrug, Katelyn did as she was told.

“Here’s how this works,” Leona said, sinking gracefully into the provided chair. “You tell me what the Terran Space Force has planned, and I won’t kill you.”

Rearing her head back, Katelyn let her eyes go wide. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The woman across from her sighed and crossed her arms. “At the risk of sounding like a bad tri-D entertainment holo, we do have ways of making you talk.”

Katelyn snorted; she couldn’t help it. The woman was right, she did sound like a bad holomovie.

Mistaking the response for defiance, the blonde leaned forward. Clasping her hands, and resting her forearms against her knees, she locked eyes with Katelyn. The intensity in their blue depths was laser sharp.

“Or…” She drew the word out slowly, turning her head to glance at Logan. “We can make your friend suffer instead.”

Katelyn felt her face drain of color. “Th-that’s against the Accords,” she stammered. “You can’t. You wouldn’t.”

The woman sat back. “But I wouldn’t be the one responsible, you see,” she pointed out. “You would. Cooperate, and your friend here is inconvenienced, nothing more. As long as he doesn’t fight against the shackles, I’ve been told they’re painless.”

“Except for the little fact that you’ve stolen his free will,” Katelyn muttered, glaring back at the woman.

Leona shook her head slowly. “Since the beginning of time, people who disregard the laws have had their rights stripped from them,” she observed. “What you’re experiencing is nothing different than that.”

Katelyn spread her hands. “I’ve done nothing to warrant this treatment!” Pointing to Logan, she added, “Certainly he hasn’t.”

The woman’s gaze followed her. “I’ll admit, he’s a bit of an unknown. Nothing in our databases pulled up a match. That whets my curiosity,” she added with a smile. “Where in the stars did you find him?”

Apprehension hit, and for a moment, Katelyn wondered if it was hers, or if she was actually feeling something coming from Landon.

She remained silent, awaiting Leona’s next move.

Still staring at Logan, the blonde extended a hand, crooking her finger. “Come here,” she ordered.

Logan complied, stiffly and with an agonizing slowness that made it seem as if he was fighting it every step of the way.

Tilting her head to indicate Katelyn, the woman commanded, “Take her dominant hand, and break one of her fingers.”

Logan’s head swiveled to face Katelyn, his expression blank. Slowly, as if every muscle in his humanoid frame was crying against it, he drew near.

What she saw in his eyes had her scrambling back into the far corner.

“Okay, look, there’s no need for violence,” she said, hating the slight quiver in her voice.

The defense minister chuckled. “Like I said before, it’s your choice. Talk, and I’ll call him off. Refuse, and he will have no choice but to follow through with my orders.”

Logan stopped as the edge of the bunk hit his thighs. Bending, he reached for her.

Katelyn lashed out with a foot, and he grabbed it. She let out a growl of rage as he pulled her toward him.

Twisting onto her stomach, she pulled her arms beneath her, but with little effort, Logan flipped her. Both his hands latched onto her right forearm, and she froze, clenching her eyes shut.

A connection slammed into place between them, the direct physical contact providing an undetectable Link.

As he began to pry her fisted hand open, Logan’s voice flooded her mind.

She sent him a mental nod. Her eyes bounced from his to Leona’s, as her interrogator spoke once more.

“He will break every finger in your hand, one by one, until you tell me what I need to know.”

Katelyn’s eyes widened, and her head whipped from the blonde to Logan as she felt cool fingers grip her pinky, hard.

There was a small pop, and a searing pain.

She moaned, tears welling despite her determination to stay strong. She braved one quick glance down, and felt bile rising.

True to his word, after that first flash of pain, she felt nothing from the injury. Seeing it, however, was almost as bad. Her finger was grotesquely swollen and bent an unnatural angle.

She flung her head up and stared at the overhead, biting down on her lower lip until she tasted blood.

“Still nothing?” The blonde sounded impressed. “Interesting.”

Katelyn jerked her head around and glared at the woman. “Interesting? This is your idea of interesting?”

Logan stood, encasing her hand in his, as if awaiting his next instructions.

The ghost of a smile graced Leona’s lips. “You misunderstand. I had to confirm he truly was shackled.”

She tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lips. “Return to your place against the wall,” she ordered, and Logan stepped back from the bunk.

Katelyn stared mutely at the woman, cradling her injured hand.

“Now to get the information I need from you, Miss Evans,” the defense minister mused.

Katelyn felt a flash of anger. “What are you going to do?” she mocked. “Break more fingers?”

The woman’s smile widened. “That won’t be necessary.” She motioned to her guards. “Inject the interrogation nano.”

The AI from her detail stepped forward, while the human soldier moved to one side in order to keep Katelyn squarely in his sights.

At Katelyn’s look of incomprehension, Leona elaborated.

“Our dossier on you indicates you’re not Division 99 trained. You’re one of the TSF’s useful idiots, a mule, useful only insofar as your ability to smuggle material in and out of spaceports.”

Katelyn shot the woman an indignant look. She opened her mouth to protest, but the minister waved it away.

“Save it.”

The AI grabbed Katelyn, and dragged her to the edge of the bunk. Pushing her head to one side, he placed a cylinder at the base of Katelyn’s neck, and depressed it.

At once, Katelyn felt lassitude creeping over her.

<Landon?> she thought frantically.

<No worries,> he assured her. <I’m neutralizing it. You’re feeling a bit relaxed, I can tell.>

<Yes….>

Katelyn let lethargy sweep over her, her shoulders slumping.

After a moment, the AI released her. “Vitals indicate the nano has taken hold,” she informed the minister.

“Very good,” Leona murmured. “Now, Miss Evans. Why don’t you tell me what you know about the TSF’s plans for Neptune?”

“I don’t know their plans,” Katelyn slurred. “We were just supposed to do advance scouting, that’s all.”

Leona leaned forward in her chair when Katelyn lapsed into silence. “What kind of advance scouting?”

“Map Thalassa’s weakest points,” Katelyn answered after a moment.

“Go on,” the minister prodded.

Katelyn’s hand remained cradled in her lap.

“Hurts,” she complained. “Need mednano.”

<Good one,> Landon encouraged. <That’s one side effect of the nano, lack of focus.>

<Well, and the fact that it bloody well hurts…to look at, at least,> Katelyn retorted.

<We’ll get you fixed as soon as we bust out of here.>

Leona cocked her head, oblivious to their mental exchange. “You haven’t earned mednano yet, Evans. Give me more, and I’ll consider it.”

Katelyn blew out a breath. She waved her free hand lazily in the air, and let confusion cloud her expression. “More?”

“Start with who sent you, and tell me precisely what they ordered you to do,” Leona instructed.

Katelyn closed her eyes. “Check out the most vulnerable spots, map them, and send the information back to my handler,” she parroted the list as if reading off a set of instructions.

Leona straightened. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere,” she murmured. “And your handler is?”

Katelyn opened her eyes and let them wander the cell before returning to Leona. “Staffer in Admiral Booth’s office.” She enunciated the words with the same care she would if she were drunk. “Guy named Gerald.”

Leona’s eyes sharpened, and she looked away. Katelyn suspected the woman was cross-referencing the name against those in the Jovian database.

She finally nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s talk about what you suspect is happening.”

Katelyn rolled her eyes to the overhead. “What I suspect,” she repeated. “Ummm, yeahhh. They’re going to send a force against you and kick your asses.”

Leona lowered her head, her lips compressing.

<Careful,> Landon warned. <Don’t overdo it.>

Hoping her acting chops were as good as Logan’s, she heaved an exaggerated sigh, and flopped her uninjured hand in the air. “Something about the Iwo Jima, and Admiral Rialto being a small-minded fool with an overinflated opinion of her skills.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change, but satisfaction sparked in her eyes.

She stood, the chair scraping hard against the sole of the deck. Motioning to the guard to lower the ES field, she instructed, “Give her painkillers to tide her over until they’re delivered to Thalassa Penitentiary. The medic at the prison can repair her hand once they arrive.”

JAILBIRDS

STELLAR DATE: 04.19.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Thalassa Penitentiary

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

The transport that carried them from the base to Thalassa’s prison was windowless, but thanks to their inside ally, they had a secured, untraceable tap that allowed them access to the vessel’s feed.

Evening had fallen over Thalassa, and the number of vehicles crossing the dome’s interior was much lower than it had been when they’d first arrived. Lightning danced outside the globe, a dazzling show that caused the CNT fibers in the orb to glitter as it reflected the momentary illumination.

Against that otherworldly background, the city sprawled beneath them. They passed low over an entertainment district, and Katelyn could make out an outdoor amphitheater, a dazzling display of color lighting up a sea of faces as the audience watched the group of performers onstage.

<Well, with the exception of a broken finger, this is turning into a much easier operation than I’d expected,> she sent, her gaze straying past the concert to a nearby district that boasted pubs, holohouses, and other evening venues.

Landon sent her a mental nod. <So far, at least. Don’t expect it to last, though,> he warned. <I’m a firm believer in the old Sun Tzu maxim.>

<The one about a battle plan lasting only until first contact with the enemy?> she asked.

<Yes. We’re fortunate that our plan survived first contact. We can’t count on faring as well in the second.>

Beside her, Logan grunted his agreement.

Up ahead, she saw a reinforced gate that her HUD informed her was their destination. The transport began its descent, and Katelyn saw the NSAI piloting the vessel submit a security token requesting admittance.

The gates slid open, the vehicle dove through, and they exchanged the midnight sky for starkly lit, drab, grey ceramacrete. A holo glide slope indicator hovered over the feed, providing those flying the vessel with the data needed to safely bring the vessel into the prison’s garage.

The pair of guards that had accompanied them on the journey stood as the vessel settled to the ground.

Motioning to her and Landon, the nearest one ordered, “Up, the both of you.”

Logan’s head jerked down in a curt nod, and they walked down the ramp and out into a musty-smelling, dimly-lit cavern.

“Welcome to your new home,” the second guard smirked. Nodding to the set of doors set into a reinforced wall, she added, “Your quarters are through there.”

Pointing to Logan, the first one instructed, “Head for that door and stand in front of it. You’ll be scanned, tagged, and then allowed entrance. If she tries to make a run for it, use any force necessary to stop her, is that clear?”

Logan nodded.

“Not good enough. I need verbal acceptance,” the guard rapped out.

“Clear.” Logan’s voice matched the guard’s for harshness.

The man nodded. “Go on, then. The sooner you’re inside, the faster we can get out of this dump and back to base.”

Logan wrapped a hand around Katelyn’s upper arm, and the two headed for the entrance.

<Charming, isn’t he? Bet he gets any girl or guy he wants with that pickup line.> Landon’s words had her ducking her head to hide a smile.

<Any concerns about the scan we’re about to be subjected to?> she asked, and Logan sent her a mental head-shake.

Half an hour later, they’d been processed. Katelyn was now garbed in prison greys, the material threaded with a nanoweave she’d been informed would set off proximity alarms should she stray outside her confined area.

They’d been placed in the bloc partitioned for political prisoners, but none of the people occupying the cells they passed matched the description of Alden’s daughter.

<Any luck locating Soleil?> she asked as they came to a stop outside the cells that would be their temporary quarters.

Logan’s was adjacent to hers, and he immediately set to threading a nanofilament through the wall in order to maintain their direct link.

<She’s being held in the maximum-security area,> Landon sent. <Something about needing to protect her from an assassination attempt.>

That startled Katelyn, and she straightened, accidentally breaking their connection to Logan. She slumped back against the wall, reestablishing contact with Landon’s twin.

<Who would want her dead?> she asked them both.

Wry amusement colored Landon’s reply. <The head of the black ops program back on Ganymede thinks Harm could get to her and use her again. She wants Soleil eliminated.>

The lights dimmed suddenly as a chime sounded, ordering the prisoners to their bunks for the night.

<Roll call is next, and then the guard force will be reduced,> Logan told them. <When that happens, we move.>

<Roger,> Katelyn replied, sending him a jaunty mental salute.

<You do like poking the bear, don’t you,> Landon sighed along their private connection.

<He needs to lighten up,> she retorted. <It’d do him good.>

<Shannon? Don’t tell me; you have a sister?>

Landon snorted. <Something like that, yes. You’d like her. You and she are a lot alike in many ways.>

<Nah,> Katelyn denied. <Not if she’s spent the past ten centuries trying to get your brother to unwind. I’m not that patient.>

They lapsed into silence as the guards made their final rounds.

Fifteen minutes later, she felt Landon prod her.

She hopped up and waved a hand at the opening. She didn’t see a blue light indicating an ES field was present, but she approached with caution anyway.

When her hand passed through, she stepped out into the hallway.

<This way.> Logan turned and headed for a stairwell at the end of the hallway, marked with a glowing holo over the door.

They descended two flights, and then Logan paused behind the door that opened into the hallway beyond. She waited while he threaded another nanofilament through to check for guards, and then followed when he pushed through the door.

The map Allie supplied them was a ghostly overlay on her HUD. It showed Soleil’s cell to be down a corridor to their right. She turned in that direction, but Logan pulled her up short.

Nodding to a secured door several meters in the other direction, he said, <Armory.>

She smiled.

Five minutes later, they were armed and back out in the hallway.

<Third door on the left,> Landon told them.

Soleil’s cell had a physical door with several levels of security that had to be breached before they could free her. Logan set to work while Katelyn stood guard.

<I’m in.>

Katelyn turned at Logan’s announcement, and peered inside. Light from the open doorway played across the sleeping form on the room’s lone bed.

Katelyn crossed in a few quick strides, and shook Soleil’s shoulder. The woman stirred groggily.

“Wake up,” Katelyn whispered. “Harm Ellis sent us. We’ve come to get you out of here.”

The other woman sat up with a jerk, eyes wide. “I never thought—” She stumbled to a stop, confusion crossing her face as she spotted Logan standing at the entrance.

Katelyn tugged on her arm. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Soleil stared back at her, confusion morphing into suspicion. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Katelyn closed her eyes and reached for a patience she didn’t feel. “Look, I’m from the Scattered Disk. I was on Sedna. The information you gave Harm saved many lives, I saw it myself.” She gestured around her. “Call this…returning the favor.”

Landon’s voice filtered into the room. “Soleil, we know about your father’s health and we know that what you did, you did for the ultimate good of the Combine as well as greater Sol. Please, let us help you.”

Soleil sat there, staring at Katelyn for a long moment. She sucked in a ragged breath and her expression cleared. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

When the two women joined Logan at the door, he held up a hand, his attention focused on the now-closed door.

“Quiet. Someone’s coming.”

Katelyn saw the fear that crossed Soleil’s face, and she placed a finger against her own lips, miming the need for silence. She gave the frightened woman’s arm a brief squeeze.

After a moment, the AI nodded. “All clear,” he reported in a barely audible voice. “Follow me.”

It took them another ten minutes to make it to the access hatch Allie had indicated would lead them back up to Thalassa’s surface.

<You ready for this?> Landon asked.

Katelyn smiled. <I’m a smuggler, remember? Sneaking in and out of places is my jam.>

She kept Soleil sandwiched between her and Logan, the rifle she stole from the armory aimed down the hallway. With a wrenching pull, the AI removed the cover plate that hid the hatch’s manual override, forcing the seal open.

<We have another ten minutes before the system resets, and they discover this has been breached. We need to be long gone by then,> Landon warned.

<Gotcha. First flitter we find, I’m hotwiring it. We can’t chance having the city’s sensor array getting a facial recognition lock on either Soleil or me, and we’re fresh out of shimmershuits.>

She felt Logan’s glance, and when she looked up, wondered if she was imagining the censure behind his eyes.

<He’s not judging. Believe me, we’ve done our share of B&E over the past several centuries,> Landon assured her. <Ask him to tell you sometime about the havoc he wreaked at an air base on Tau Ceti.>

Katelyn shot his brother a bemused glance as she passed through the hatch and began to climb the metal rungs welded to the side of the shaft that led upward.

She paused at the top and glanced back down, watching as Logan moved alongside Soleil, climbing past her to reach the hatch that would lead them to the surface.

Silently, he worked the mechanism, and moments later, Katelyn caught the midnight blue of Thalassa’s dome, several kilometers above them.

“Hurry,” she whispered, urging Soleil to follow Logan through the opening, while her own eyes swept the area as she pulled herself out of the shaft, landing on a compact aircar nestled in the shadows cast by a nearby building.

<That one, there.> She motioned to it and, after a quick glance around, launched herself from a crouch and darted across to the machine.

Whispering a quick thanks to their Jovian benefactor for the hackIts she’d provided Logan, Katelyn slapped a passel of nano onto the car’s door, and tugged it open.

Motioning Soleil inside, she nearly laughed when she saw Logan waiting for her to move to the passenger side. <Oh no you don’t. I’m driving,> she insisted.

Logan lifted one dark eyebrow, but refused to budge.

<Fine,> she grumbled, moving to the other side. <But if we get caught, it’s not my fault.>

<You’re not the only one with skills, girlfriend,> Landon said, and the car immediately started.

<How—?> Katelyn gaped in astonishment at Logan.

<Wasn’t locked.>

She snorted and turned to face the front holoscreen as the AI maneuvered the car smoothly out into Thalassa’s night. <When did you figure out it didn’t need to be hotwired?>

<Showoff.>

After several minutes, they pulled up to the safehouse—a condo in a mid-range community that had a blend of working-class and business professionals.

<The file on this place says the area is known for people who mind their own business,> Landon said. <No one should wonder who we are, or why the place is occupied when it wasn’t yesterday.>

Warm lights automatically winked on as they crossed the threshold. The condo’s NSAI welcomed them, informing them the kitchen was fully stocked, and the bed linens clean.

“Well, then.” Katelyn stopped in the center of the room and pivoted slowly, taking in their temporary quarters. “What now?”

“Now,” Landon’s voice projected over the room’s sound system, “we wait for our ride out of here.”

Soleil blew out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through her hair. “If you don’t mind,” she said in a quiet voice, “I’d really like a long soak in the san. It’s been five years since I’ve been able to enjoy something like that.”

Katelyn sent her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Absolutely,” she told the woman. “Take your time. When you’re done, we’ll order out. Anything in particular sound good?”

“Indian food,” she said wistfully. “I haven’t had a samosa in forever.”

“Consider it done,” Katelyn said with a firm nod. “Now go on; enjoy your first taste of freedom.”

After Soleil left, Katelyn turned to Logan and asked in a low tone, “Flight risk?”

He shook his head. “I’m in control of the building’s security. She might not realize it, but she’s our prisoner now.”

Katelyn winced. “Let’s not call her that, okay? She’s our responsibility until we get her back to Harm, that’s all. Speaking of which,” she propped her hands on her waist, “do you have any idea who he’s sending to bust us out of this joint?”

“I do.”

She crossed her arms, and shot him an expectant look. “And…?”

“A Major Williams, from the 242nd.”

A stunned look crossed Katelyn’s face. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

SAFEHOUSE

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Charmichal District

REGION: Thalassa, Neptune, Jovian Combine

<Stay close,> Perez said to the others as he eased down the street, staying out of the well-lit areas…even though the shimmersuit he wore would keep any passersby from spotting them.

<You sure? I was thinking about heading over to that confection shop across the way,> Pita sent a wink along with her words.

Perez rolled his eyes, though no one could see it.

More than once on this sojourn—heck, more than a hundred times—he’d gained new appreciation for how his decades of wiseassery must have annoyed his superiors. The Marines under his command slathered it on so much, he was starting to wonder if maybe Williams put them up to it.

<I’m game for a burger, myself,> Alma said. <Are we there yet?>

<I’ll stop this infiltration right here and make you walk home,> Perez shot back, then grew more serious. <Once we know Katelyn is safe, we’re going to have to find Williams and the others.>

Pita sent a mental agreement. <Gonna be tricky…I think we might need to exfil in two separate groups.>

<Maybe,> Perez replied. <We’ll see what our options are when the time comes. If the LC has really been made, then we’re not going to be able to take any passenger transport off Thalassa.>

They rounded a corner, and a condo block lit up on his HUD. It was set back beyond the street, with a terraced garden hanging down in front.

<Nice place,> Alma commented. <Handy egress too. Hop out a window and onto a trellis, then make your way down to street level. Easy peasy.>

Above them, lightning flashed in Neptune’s upper clouds, illuminating the street. The trio paused, watching a pair of women cross in front of them, both pointing up at the display overhead. The Marines followed them, stopping before the low wall in front of the condo block.

<You go in the front,> Perez directed Alma and Pita. <I’ll climb up and come in the fire exit. They’re on the top floor, far end.>

<Almost like we have a map that tells us that,> Alma said with a smirk. <Should we let them know we’re here?>

<Nah, let’s see how good their security is.>

He imagined the two Marines sharing a look, but neither responded verbally, only flashed acknowledgment via the Link.

He eased up onto the wall, and then slipped around a broad fern to reach a lattice that rose up to the next level of the gardens. Neptune’s hanging cities had normal gravity, so he had to climb with care, his heavily augmented body well exceeding the decorative lattice’s weight limit.

It took ten minutes for him to climb the hanging garden’s five levels and reach the fire escape folded into the building’s side, cleverly hidden behind another vine-laden lattice.

Carefully swinging around the ladder, Perez climbed it and then placed a hackIt on the fire exit’s door control. A moment later, it swung open, and he eased into the hallway.

It was empty, and a single IFF ping gave no response from Pita and Alma.

There’s no way they didn’t beat me up here.

Perez considered sending another request, but something felt off.

He moved down the corridor to the door that was marked as the safehouse, detecting no movement in the four other condos on the level. Carefully reaching behind him, he pulled the shoulder bag that held his rifle around in front of his body, sliding a hand inside, ready to engage enemies he expected to encounter at any moment.

Finally reaching the door, he placed his hackIt on the access panel. Once it chimed, he carefully pushed the door open.

Seeing nothing untoward, he took a careful step inside.

He felt a sharp tug around his left boot and, in the next instant, found himself airborne, leg securely snared by a CT monofilament wire.

A hand snaked out, relieving him of his rifle, just as an AI in a sleek frame stepped into view. It wasn’t holding any weapons, but every centimeter of the being oozed menace.

Annoyed by the upside-down figure, Perez ordered his optics to flip the image on his HUD.

Shouldering the rifle, the AI bent and pointed a finger at him. “Boom. You’re dead.”

A snort from the condo’s mainspace had the lieutenant twisting in midair. He saw with some dismay that Pita was standing in the middle of the room, her hood off, and her hands cuffed in front of her.

He glowered at her. “What are you looking at? You got caught first!”

She gave a small shrug. “Least I’m not swinging in the wind. Sir.”

THE BURN

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: TSS Normandy, approaching Saturn

REGION: Saturnian space, Jovian Combine

Harm stood arms akimbo before the central holotank on the Normandy’s cavernous bridge.

The view before him showed the fleet passing half a million kilometers north of Saturn, the yellow planet’s hexagonal storms rotating slowly on the display as well as somewhere far beneath his feet.

“Time to deceleration, two minutes,” the officer on navigation called out, and Captain Olivia nodded from where she stood beside Harm.

“Acknowledged. Duty officer, advise the ship, rotation and hard decel imminent.”

“Aye, ma’am, decel countdown set shipwide. Condition red.”

A part of Harm’s mind noted that the announcement went across the general shipnet, and that the same process was occurring on the nine destroyers escorting the Normandy.

The ship slipped past Saturn, and the view focused in on Titan, where four hundred Jovian destroyers, cruisers, and a smattering of dreadnoughts waited. Their formation suggested that the enemy knew what the TSF carrier group was up to: a churn and burn.

Lighting up the skies of an inhabited world was considered very bad form at the best of times, and was something the TSF rarely resorted to. However, during its near-century of service, the Normandy had been called upon to perform the maneuver on several occasions.

Part of the reason was the raw energy output the ship’s engines were capable of delivering. A thousand tactical nukes wouldn’t even come close to the carrier at full burn, and the Jovians knew it. That was why their fleet was arrayed before Titan in a defensive pattern.

Harm suspected they’d use a variety of EM weapons and explosive bursts to dissipate the Normandy’s exhaust plume before it reached the world.

Despite the offensive nature of their defense, Harm was certain that the enemy would be successful. The worst that denizens of Titan would experience was some communications disruption and a very colorful light show.

“Last chance to choose another option,” Tobias said as he approached the tank. “Once we roast their marshmallows, there’ll be no turnin’ back from war. If ye be lookin’ to make a unified Sol, this isn’t the way.”

“I gave up on that dream five years ago,” Harm said. “Jove has been flexing its muscle across Sol too long without repercussions. They tried to start two wars, and only by the skin of our teeth did we stop them. The Terran admiralty is too hamstrung by the politicians to take necessary action, but we can. Once we take and hold Saturn, we’ll bring the Combine to the table, and they’ll have to make concessions to get their worlds back.”

“Ye think that’ll be the end of it?” Tobias asked. “It’s a dangerous game to play.”

Harm glanced at the ancient AI, a being who was only a few years older than himself. “You’ve seen it before, just like I have. The only way we forged peace and unity was through the crucible of war. No one has worked harder than I have to keep that process from repeating, but I don’t see any other option—other than to let Jove take full control of Sol.”

“Nae,” Tobias shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. “They’ve already shown nae honor regardin’ the Phobos Accords; too many o’ my brothers and sisters died to see tha’ come to pass. Th’ fact I accepted this commission again is proof tha’ I’m game for one more kick at th’ can.”

Harm wondered about Tobias’s reference to ‘one’ more kick at the can. Given what Lysander was building out at Nibiru, that statement was likely a literal one.

“Sirs,” Captain Olivia gestured at the countdown on the display. “Do you want to strap in?”

The two AIs glanced at one another, and Tobias chuckled.

“Nae, lass, we’ll be just fine standin’.”

Harm activated the maglocks in his feet, securing himself to the deck, then gave the captain a winning smile. “One of the benefits of a semi-organic frame.”

“Suit yourselves.” She turned and walked to her chair. She sat and pulled her harness into place before adding, “But if either of you go flying across the bridge—”

“We’ll do our best nae to hit any crew,” Tobias said with a laugh. “Dinnae worry, this ship maneuvers smooth as silk. Not like back in my day.” He finished the statement off with a wink, then turned back to the holotank.

<You two love to show off,> Mags said privately.

<It’s not showing off if the need doesn’t exist,> Harm replied.

Tobias gave him a sidelong look. <Except no one here knows you’re an AI. They think you’re still human—mostly.>

The MICI agent smirked. <Just adds to my mystique.>

“Engine cutout in 10…9…8…” the navigation officer announced, and Harm braced himself.

Ships that spent much of their travel time under thrust, and didn’t have any rotating sections—both of which were the case for the Normandy—had their decks stacked so that the engines were ‘down’, the thrust creating the feeling of gravity.

The ship had been burning at a hair over 1g; when the engines cut out, that acceleration disappeared, and Harm felt his body stretch out in response.

“Come about and commence plotted burn,” Captain Olivia ordered.

Her words were a formality, as the maneuver was already pre-programmed into the nav systems, and being carried out by Mags.

A moment later, the ship spun, causing Harm and Tobias to sway as its engines turned toward Titan and the enemy fleet. The instant they were in position, the next burn started, beginning at just 1g of thrust.

Scan showed a few ranging shots come from nearby defensive emplacements, eager Jovians attempting to damage the mighty carrier’s engines before they came to life once more.

Beams dissipated in the plasma flow, and a few missiles got close, but were taken out by the destroyer escorts long before they posed any risk to the Normandy.

Tobias sent out the order for the other ships to begin braking as well, their engines now adding to the massive stream of energy blasting toward Titan.

“Bring it up,” Olivia said.

The navigation officer acknowledged, ramping up the ship’s burn until it was at a staggering twenty gs, the force causing Harm’s body to tense, while no small number of the crew let out whispered groans.

He knew that for anyone standing on Titan’s surface, the light from the Normandy’s deceleration burn would outshine both Sol and their orbital fusion sun. The entire sky would be dominated by the light from the carrier’s engines, lost in the energy barrage.

And should the energy reach their world unabated, it would burn.

“They’re projectin’ a magnetic field.” Tobias gestured at the display. “That’ll sweep th’ plasma aside, but th’ EM is gonna give everyone a wee touch o’ sunburn.”

“They’ll live,” Harm said. “Look, they’re moving those ore barges, that’ll shade most of Titan.”

The general nodded. “Aye an’ it will. Oh look, their high muckity-muck is on the horn again. I guess we be at the ‘This means war’ declaration now.”

“I suspect as much,” Harm nodded. “Just hope this is enough of a diversion for Ender to take Hyperion.”

Tobias shrugged. “Well, it’ll have to do. Ye’ll have to trust in tha’.”

NEWS FROM HOME

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Thalassa Safehouse

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

Katelyn sealed the door to the guest bedroom behind her, leaving Soleil alone once more. The woman consistently rejected any attempt at conversation, and Katelyn was getting worried.

She quickly retraced her steps back to the main room. Logan looked up from where he stood guard beside the front entrance, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Soleil?” he asked.

Logan’s habitual single-word statement broke past Katelyn’s concern for Alden’s daughter. As serious as their current situation was, Katelyn had been the younger sibling to two serious older brothers for far too many years to pass up the temptation to needle the AI.

“No,” she said, enunciating her words as if she were speaking to someone who was a bit slow, “I’m Katelyn. Soleil’s…in…there.” She pointed to the back bedroom.

Her exaggerated movements elicited a mental snort from Landon. <Seriously, brother. We’re keeping her.>

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Katelyn, and somehow, she knew the glare wasn’t directed just at her, but at his twin as well.

Katelyn dropped the act. “She’s doing okay,” she assured the AI, but then lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Well, physically, at least. As for the rest…I guess it’s about as well as can be expected, given that her own people incarcerated her for more than five years.” She made an aborted gesture, a half-sweep of her hand—to indicate what, she didn't know.

“She’s Alden’s freaking daughter, for star’s sake!” she blurted out. “His own flesh and blood.”

Logan lifted a brow. “Your point?”

<Human history is riddled with stories of those in power throwing their own family in prison, or worse,> Landon supplied, and then his tone turned dry. <And then there’s that little fact that she was spying for Division 99.>

Katelyn tilted her head in a brief nod. “Yeah, I guess,” she conceded. “Any news from the team they’re sending to get us out of this place?”

Logan shook his head.

<No,> Landon supplied. <Nothing from that end, although there is news from the dead drop.>

“Oh? You holding out on me again, partner?” She had her avatar give him a jovial mental jab.

A soft chuckle filtered through her mind. <Well, you’ve been a bit busy getting Soleil settled,> he remarked. <Besides, I knew this news would keep.>

Katelyn wandered into the kitchen and palmed the chiller open.

<Well?> she asked as she ducked her head to browse the food and beverage selection someone had provided for them.

Selecting a local flavored drink, she pulled it out and popped the lid. A cool effervescence tickled her nose as she took a long drink.

Wandering back into the main living area, she ambled over to one of the overstuffed chairs.

<Hellooo?> Her avatar waved a hand at the AI seated inside her head. <You still with me, there? Go ahead. Lay it on me.>

She snagged one of the throw pillows off the sofa and brought it with her as she plopped down into a chair.

Landon chuckled. <Okay, okay. It's a report from the Bonanza.>

Katelyn sat up. <No shit? Where are they? Are they safe? Where did Harm send them?> The questions tumbled through her mind, peppering Landon in rapid succession.

“And you wonder why I don’t talk,” Logan grumbled. “You two say enough for all of us.”

Katelyn’s head swung to where the AI’s ebony frame stood. “Two jokes in one week? Why, Logan, I'm beginning to think you care,” she teased with a wink.

Turning her attention back to Landon, she demanded, “Gimme! I’ve been dying to see a familiar face from that ship.”

Amusement filtered through Landon’s voice as he pushed an icon over their shared link.

<Brace yourself,> was all he said.

A shiver of anticipation shafted through her as she settled into the cushioned depths of the chair, one arm wrapped around the pillow. She reached mentally for the icon, nursing the drink as the message went through the encryption layers Harm had set all their communications to filter through.

To her surprise, it wasn't her brother or Joel who had sent the missive. The communication was from Winston.

<Katelynnn,> the sloth drew out her name on a long exhale. <The short woman who brought the AIssss said this link would be…> The creature paused, inhaled, and went on, <a secure way to reach you. Thought you might like to know how everyone's doing back hoooome.>

A whiskered face inserted itself in front of Winston's masked one.

<And I'm here to make sure the report is accurate,> Quinn interjected acerbically.

A clawed, three-fingered paw slowly reached for the big cat’s head, pushing it aside. <We are taking good care of your humans, Kate. No worriessss,> the sloth assured her. <Don't let them tell you any differently. The Jovian ships chasing us are no match for the Bonanza.>

Katelyn’s drink went flying. “Jovian ships!” she gasped. She shot to her feet, and began to pace, worry suffusing her.

<Aww, c’mon,> a voice complained. <Are you making another recording, dude? Don't scare her like that, Winston.>

The screen jerked as Joel grabbed it from the sloth’s claws and refocused it on himself. He stared earnestly into the recorder.

<Don't worry about us, K,> he assured her. <It's all good. We’re all good. Everything's fine. No worries here. It's all goo—>

<Joel!> Katelyn heard Zura’s snapped admonition, and saw the AI’s holo materialize behind the comm officer’s shoulder. <What have we told you about those double shots, especially after lunch?>

The AI lifted her hands in the air. <Stars, what am I saying?> she muttered. <Usually, it’s instead of lunch.>

She marched over to the holorecorder and snatched it from Joel’s hand. She stared into the feed’s pickups.

<Yes, we’re being chased by Jovians. That’s all part of Harm’s grand plan. We’re another decoy, just like you are. But we’re fine, Kate, so stop worrying about us, and just get yourself and that sexy AI you’re with back home in one piece. You hear me?>

Thankfully, the transmission ended.

Katelyn massaged her temples, unsure exactly how to feel. The colorful chaos that was her crew—her family—both warmed and unsettled her.

“Not too fond of Harm painting a target on their backs like that,” she said after a moment.

<They’ll be fine,> Landon sent, pushing reassurance her way. <The Jovians won’t see them as a threat.>

“That’s because they’ll think they’re a circus act.”

Logan’s dour words startled a laugh out of Katelyn.

She started to respond, but Logan lifted a warning hand.

<Someone’s approaching,> he sent, switching to their private net. <Go guard Soleil.>

Katelyn nodded, her hand going to her thigh, where a new lightwand rested, replacing the one the Jovians had confiscated. With a flick of her fingers, she had it out and activated.

She knocked lightly on Soleil’s door, and it slid open beneath her hand just as she heard a muffled, “Come in.”

The younger woman’s eyes widened, and she paled when she caught sight of the lightwand in Katelyn’s hand.

“They found us. Oh stars!” She bolted to her feet.

“Easy,” Katelyn said, “We don’t know who’s there. It could be our ticket out of here, you know. This is just a precaution to keep you safe.”

Soleil sucked in a deep breath, and nodded shakily. Slowly, she sank back down onto the foot of the bed, right where she’d been when Katelyn first entered.

I don’t think she’s left that spot since we arrived last night….

“Soleil, did you get any sleep overnight?” she asked cautiously, stepping closer to the Jovian woman.

<While you’re inquiring about her health, can you slide on over to that balcony door and check to make sure it’s sealed?> Landon prodded as Soleil hesitantly shook her head.

<Not trying to be callous or anything,> the AI added, <but the matter of whether or not she got any rest is going to be moot if we have someone from the Thalassan Penitentiary hauling ass through that entrance….>

<Gotcha,> Katelyn responded to Landon while shaking her head at Alden’s daughter. “Any particular reason why you didn’t sleep?” She kept up the conversation as she peeked behind the shade covering the sliding door.

What she saw on the small balcony had her stepping back with a sharp intake of breath, and pulling her pulse pistol from its ankle holster.

<Shimmersuit?> she asked Landon, replaying in her mind the image of the potted tree at the far end, bending to one side as if unseen hands were pushing it out of the way.

She felt his agreement. <Looks like, yes.>

Screw the lightwand. She reseated the weapon in her thigh. This calls for a blunt instrument.

<Logan!> She motioned Soleil out into the hallway, flattened herself against the wall beside the window, and brought her weapon up.

She sensed a flurry of information being exchanged between the brothers.

<He’s got his own situation brewing right now. Place your palm on the door frame,> Landon instructed.

She sidestepped closer, extending her free hand while keeping the pistol trained on the door’s pane with the other. As her fingers brushed the sill, she felt Landon moving inside her head, accessing various nano packets and pushing one to the forefront.

<That’ll give them a bit of an unpleasant surprise if use a standard hackIt to breach,> Landon murmured.

She felt his attention sweep through the room, and then he nudged her toward the closet, set into an adjacent wall.

<Get inside,> he told her.

Katelyn shot his avatar a sardonic eyeroll. <I’m sure whatever they have will be more than adequate to penetrate through a closet door,> she remarked.

The AI responded with a quelling look. <And most likely, they’re going to lead with either a flashbang or a web grenade. Either one will incapacitate you if you’re in the room. Need I remind you that will also incapacitate me?>

<Smartass,> she muttered as she hastily retreated to the closet as ordered. <Guess you’re pretty much used to being always right.>

<Unfortunately, I’ve been in enough firefights to know my way around them. And incapacitating my target is what I’d do,> he replied. <As to the other…Trust me, Logan enjoys pointing out my mistakes far too much for me to ever be right.>

Just then, she heard a small pop, followed by the thud of something light hitting the carpeted floor.

Katelyn squeezed them shut just in time, but the bright flash of light seeping around the edges of the door frame still managed to make the backs of her eyelids glow a bright red, as if she had her face upturned to a fusion sun.

<Only one of them,> Landon informed her. <And…she just took out my nanocloud. Go, go!>

Katelyn burst through the door, her weapon trained on the intruder’s location, which Landon had painted on her HUD, but the other woman managed to somehow anticipate her presence, and the pulse Katelyn sent passed harmlessly through empty space.

<Duck!> Landon cried out.

Katelyn dove toward a nearby desk, reaching for her backup.

The small pistol she had hanging from the holster tucked beneath her breasts was what she privately called her ‘get the hell off me, asshole’ holdout. Small enough to fit into the palm of her hand, it had an SC batt just large enough for a single shot. But the thing had a kick like a mother, and could do some serious damage.

The thing was in her hands 1.3 seconds later. Problem was, the intruder was equally fast.

Katelyn felt the bite of a CNT blade come to rest against her neck as end of her snub-nosed pistol met an armor-clad obstruction.

“Looks like we have ourselves a bit of a standoff,” a voice from out in the hallway said. “Hey, LT, found her!”

Katelyn growled at the newcomer standing at the door as she shoved at the woman crouched over her. “I am not going back to some Thalassan prison, you asshole!”

A surprised laugh erupted from her assailant.

The CNT blade eased from her neck as her opponent ripped off her shimmersuit’s hood. “Good to know,” the woman grinning back at her said. “I’d hate to think we came all this way for nothing.”

HYPERION DOWN

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Night Runner in orbit of Hyperion

REGION: Saturnian space, Jovian Combine

Cassie watched as Ender’s Marines prepared to drop onto Hyperion from the Night Runner’s bridge, the ship already feeling hollow after the buzz of over three thousand TSF Marines spending several days within the hull.

Granted, they were still present, but the general cacophony had stilled, as the men and women of the 647th division were mentally preparing themselves for the drop that would see their boots hit dirt in only the second TSF offensive against an enemy world in nearly a thousand years.

Granted, Hyperion isn’t quite large enough to be called a ‘world’, but unlike Sedna, people will sit up and take notice of this. Once again, I’m firing the shot that will be heard ‘round the Sol System.

The Night Runner settled into its orbit around Hyperion, angled thirty degrees off the moon’s equator in order to avoid orbital satellites and structures. She ran through the passive scan inputs looking for any sign that the Jovians had detected the ship.

When none were apparent, she gave the signal.

<Sure,> she replied.

The general laughed.

<Can’t say I blame you. Good luck.>

<Don’t need luck, but starfire when we ask for it will be nice.>

It was Cassie’s turn to laugh. <So long as I don’t get shot out of the sky, you’ll have it—as much as this tub can deliver.>

Ender acknowledged and fell silent, his attention likely turning back to the task at hand: taking a moon with over fifty million people living on it without mass civilian casualties.

It was a job she was glad hadn’t fallen to her.

While the Marines made their final preparations, she directed her attention to Iapetus.

Over the past five years, Cassie…or her seedmates, in many cases, had worked to bolster the forces attached to the Normandy. Its escort now comprised thirty-one destroyers, the bulk of which were now taking out orbital defenses surrounding Saturn’s outermost large moon.

The defenders were giving as good as they got, but the ship commanders Tobias had dispatched for that task were canny, and bit by bit, the rail platforms and drone swarms protecting the world were being worn down.

There was no plan there beyond damaging military infrastructure. Once the forces at Iapetus were consumed with cleanup and recovery operations, the destroyers would move to Hyperion to ensure the ground forces weren’t disturbed by any reinforcements.

When Harm had first proposed this action, Cassie had balked. The idea of taking Saturn with one carrier and a handful of destroyers seemed ludicrous…. But she’d come to realize that was why it would work—because no one expected it to.

She sucked in a breath as one of the destroyers harrying the Iapetus defensive emplacements failed to shift vector in time, and took railfire amidships. Another one of the TSF vessels launched a missile barrage at the offending rail platform, but it was too late for the first ship.

One of the engines died, but the other increased thrust, ripping the ship in half. Life pods began to spew from the dying ship, and another destroyer moved into position, its bays open to receive the fleeing crew.

The maneuver was tricky, as JSF pod fighters had begun to swarm the destroyers. However, Tobias had filled the Terran vessels with drones, and taught the ships’ AIs how best to use them. The Jovians weren’t expecting fifty thousand drones to bleed out of the destroyers, and the fighters fell back, the battle once again turning in favor of the TSF.

An alert came across the shipnet, and Cassie returned her attention to her surroundings to see the Marine drop commencing.

The bays inside the Night Runner were as dark as the hull, absorbing all light, and storing the energy inside heat pods deep within the ship. The Marines, barely visible even to Cassie’s sensors with their own stealth systems active, stepped up to the edge of the bays, and one-by-one, walked out into space. They dropped by squads, keeping formations tight and on target.

It never got old, watching skilled FROD teams put their boots down to a target, doing what most people would consider unthinkable.

In space, every direction was ‘down’, everywhere you looked, an infinite chasm, but the Marines had trained long and hard to keep those fears at bay. Cassie knew that each and every one of them held one thought firmly in mind: Hyperion was down.

Ender had picked out dozens of targets across the planet’s surface, all designed to convince the populace that they were being attacked by a much larger force. That way, when the call to evacuate came, the civilians would do it without hesitation. Once that was complete, and the moon’s Weapon Command Center was taken, then the Hyperion railgun could come online.

Cassie had already picked her first target: an abandoned floating city on Saturn—one of the older ones, with just six pontoons.

After the attempted sabotage of New Amsterdam decades ago, many of the floating cities had been upgraded with more fault-tolerant systems, but a few had been deemed too expensive to upgrade, and left to drift in the clouds. Rather than drop the abandoned cities into Saturn, the Jovians had left them in place to use for military exercises.

I’ll show them a hell of an exercise.

On the holotank, the Marines were still falling. Their deployment was planned so that the last squad would jump long before the first touched down on Hyperion, half an hour hence. Cassie would standby until her craft was empty save for one group, then she’d lift to a higher orbit, and let the final ‘toon off at Sparta. From there, it was up to the Marines, though she had little doubt they’d complete the task.

The 242 rarely lost, and that record of decisive victories had created its own momentum. Enemies had been known to abandon a position on the rumor that they’d face the 242nd.

Something Cassie hoped would happen in this case.

The Marine drop was half done when a vector line on the holotank turned red. She tapped the ship’s info, and saw it was a JSF patrol craft—one that had changed course toward one of the FROD squads.

Shit….

<Do you see that?> Ender asked. <That ship must have picked up some EM.>

<Yeah. Unless those Marines increase v, they’re going to get a visit.>

A frustrated sigh came from the general. <And there goes our element of surprise.>

<Don’t keep me waiting too long,> Ender growled. <If we get found out, I’m not going to toss more Marines out into the black.>

<No, no. I have it covered,> Cassie promised while tapping into the shipnet on a nearby freighter.

The cargo hauler was headed toward a station in low-Hyperion orbit; with a little nudge to its nav system, she put it on a vector that would intercept the JSF patrol craft before it reached the Marines. Then she locked the ship’s crew out of their own navigation systems—right after she triggered a mayday broadcast.

Ender said on a laugh.

<Riiiiight.> A languid wink accompanied Ender’s comment. <You’re going to make sure they don’t actually plow into Hyperion, right? That would make things a bit of a pain for my Marines.>

Cassie snorted. <I’m not a monster.>

Usually.

As expected, the JSF patrol craft changed course to avoid the collision, and moved to assist the freighter. The squad of Marines continued their descent, and the rest of the drop wrapped without incident, Ender going down with the last batch.

Cassie made another three orbits, firing microboosts in short windows when no active scan was pointed toward the Night Runner. Just as the first Marines were touching down on Hyperion, she deployed the final platoon for their assault on Sparta Station.

Finally, she aligned her transmission array with the Normandy, which was garnering most of the attention around Saturn as it decelerated at twenty gs, blasting its engine wash directly at Titan.

<The board is set,> she reported to the general.

Let’s just hope the rest of this op goes as smoothly.

HANGING BY A THREAD

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Safehouse

REGION: Thalassa, Neptune, Jovian Combine

Perez groaned inwardly as he swung upside-down from the snare that had caught his leg. He was trapped, hanging in the wind like some green boot, fresh from Basic.

Stars, am I glad the LC isn’t here to see this….

“Looks like someone’s a bit tied up at the moment,” a laughing voice said.

Perez rotated his head to catch a glimpse of its owner. He saw two figures move into the room, and he groaned.

“Katelyn,” he said. “I’d say it’s nice to see you, but under the circumstances….”

He saw humor dancing in the Disker’s eyes just as his gaze swung past her to glance at his two charges. To her credit, Alma kept her expression blank, but Pita felt no such compunction.

Turning to the woman they had come to rescue, the corporal said, “Yes, ma’am, he was just hanging around, waiting for you to show up.”

Perez turned a scowl on the Marine. With a wave of his hand toward the wire that held him trussed upside down, he asked, “Could I get a hand here?”

Pita looked as if she might start clapping, but a sharp look from him had her dropping her hands to her sides.

“I meant, any chance you might be able to cut me down from this sometime soon.”

“Since you asked,” the AI behind him stated.

The next instant, Perez found himself demonstrating the law of gravity. He had just enough time to tuck his head, and curl into a ball before his body made abrupt contact with the condo’s tiled foyer.

“Thanks for the warning, buddy,” he ground out as he rolled to his feet. He extended his hand for his rifle.

The AI only crossed his arms. “Introductions?”

“I can help with that.” Katelyn stepped forward. An invitation to join a private net sprang into being, and Perez cautiously accepted it.

“Private Perez, meet Logan. Logan, Private—”

Perez held up a hand and pushed his TSF Marine combat ID onto the private net Katelyn had extended to him.

“That’s ‘Lieutenant' now,” he responded with a grin.

Katelyn’s eyebrows shot up, and her lips curled into a smile. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.” Turning to the AI, she added, “He’s part of the 242nd, the battalion stationed on the Normandy, last I heard.”

Beside her, Alma nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That we are.”

The disembodied male voice that spoke told Perez one of two things. Either there was someone else within the condo, or Katelyn had recently paired with an AI.

He silently cursed the fact that the intel Cassie had given them had not included this.

“And you are?” he prompted, looking around for another humanoid frame.

An avatar popped up onto the net, one identical in face and form to the AI standing before him.

“Huh,” Perez said, turning back to Katelyn. “We weren't informed….”

Katelyn waved off his comment. “It all happened pretty quickly. I’m still getting used to the idea myself,” she said with another smile. “So, what’s the plan?”

Perez exchanged a glance with his team. “Well,” he said, scratching his head, “there’s just a small complication we have to deal with before we leave.”

“Complication?” the AI behind him said sharply as he stepped closer.

“Wait. Where’s Williams?” Katelyn looked around as if the LC might materialize from out of nowhere.

“That would be the complication,” Perez heard Pita mutter under her breath.

Katelyn whipped around to stare at the woman. “What do you mean by that?”

Had it been under different circumstances, Perez would have smirked with satisfaction. The concern coloring Katelyn's voice confirmed what they all knew; she and Williams most definitely had a ‘thing’.

He cleared his throat, and admitted, “Something tipped off the Jovians as we entered the city. The LC ordered us to split up. That allowed us to slip away, but Williams and two more of our group were taken captive. We’ll need to spring them.”

Although worry clouded her eyes, Katelyn cupped her mouth with her hand, fingers tapping out a rhythm against her lips as she fought to contain an amused smile.

In the end, amusement won by a hair.

“Let me get this straight. He came to rescue me, but I’ll be rescuing him instead?”

Perez found himself grinning back at her. “Yeah. You get to help spring the old man.”

The AI beside him shifted. “Old man?”

“Career Marine,” he explained. “Williams bleeds TSF, man.”

<TSF,> Landon said, tone thoughtful. <If he’s stationed aboard the Normandy, that means he reports to Tobias. Not entirely sure his endgame is the same as the one the Sol Federation has, friend.>

Perez gave Alma and Pita a slight headshake in warning. “You know the general?” he asked.

He felt a wave of amusement over the net. <You could say that. My brother and I served with him a while back.>

That vague answer intrigued Perez, but he shelved his curiosity, saving it for a more opportune time. He did the same with the AI’s cryptic comment about the general’s motivations. He’d pretty much come to the same conclusion anyway, as had many within the 8th Battalion.

Everyone in the know, down to the last man, woman, and AI, backed the Weapon Born one hundred percent. The general had proved himself to them countless times over the past five years, and Perez had come to realize that Tobias’s goals might be just a bit more altruistic than those of the government they all served.

He shook off those thoughts, refocusing his attention on the Disker woman in front of him.

“So,” he said with a small grin, “ready to kick some ass and take some names?”

She nodded. “We have a civilian with us, though,” she warned. “Alden’s daughter, Soleil. Harm recruited her. She’s the reason we knew Sedna was a setup.”

Perez lifted his eyebrows, but he nodded respectfully. “Anyone willing to put their neck on the line to help us out of that shit-show is someone who deserves rescuing, ma’am.”

Katelyn grimaced. “Yeah, well, we can check rescuing off our bucket list—at least the ‘springing her from prison’ part of it. She’s in one of the spare bedrooms,” she added, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “Now all we have to do is get her back to Harm.”

Perez nodded. “Okay, then,” he said, thinking furiously. Having a civilian in the mix changed things a bit. “Maybe it’s best we split up. Our initial plan was to use our cover identities to exit Thalassa using public transport. But now that they’ve gotten a good look at the LC, that’s not gonna work so well.”

<If we split up, I suggest my brother and I each take a team,> Landon interposed.

Perez’s eyebrows rose at the term ‘brother’; it was the second time the AIs had used it. There was definitely something going on here, especially if they’d served with the general, as Landon had claimed. He was just curious enough to want to know more about it.

Later.

“Okay, I’ll be the first to say it’s never a bad idea to have an AI along on a team, but you make it sound as if there’s more to it than that,” Perez probed.

<That’s because our connection allows us to communicate more securely, even over a public net.>

“Oh yeah?” he challenged. “Division 99 gave us a shit-ton of toys, but none of them are good enough to guarantee we won’t be traced if we use them to communicate. How can pull something like that off, when we can't?”

<Let's just say I have a different supplier,> Landon commented with a smile. <Don't worry. I have a healthy sense of self-preservation. We won't get caught.>

“That's what they all say,” Alma muttered under her breath.

Perez looked up as soft footfalls sounded down the hallway, and saw a woman standing hesitantly in the entrance.

He gave her his best smile. “Soleil, I presume?”

She nodded but didn’t otherwise respond.

A swift visual sweep, coupled with his augment’s ability to register pulse rate and respiration, told him the woman was likely experiencing some level of trauma.

Guess imprisonment by the Jovians’ll do that to you….

“Don’t mind us, ma’am. We’re here to help.” Sending her one more reassuring smile, he turned back to Katelyn. “Okay, how about you and I team up and go spring the old man. The rest can start working out alternate arrangements for getting us the heck out of dodge.”

Logan nodded. “That works.”

Perez returned his attention to Soleil, tilting his head to indicate the AI in the ebony frame. “No one’s getting through this guy, trust me on that.”

His wry, self-deprecating look as he laughed at himself for getting caught helped ease some of the young woman’s tension.

Still, he felt he needed to confirm she was comfortable with the arrangements. “You okay going with Logan, the corporal, and the private?” He nodded to indicate Pita and Alma.

Soleil’s gaze clung to him for a moment before shifting to encompass the two Marines and skittering past the AI in the black frame. She nodded silently.

“All right, then,” Katelyn clapped her hands together. “Let’s get down to business. What cool toys did you bring me?”

Perez barely held back an eyeroll. He already had two gung-ho people under his command; he’d forgotten Katelyn’s wild reputation.

Before he could speak, though, Pita piped up.

“Shimmersuits, for one,” the corporal said.

Unslinging the bag she held over one shoulder, and dropping it to the floor, the Marine knelt, unsealed the duffel, and tossed a canister Katelyn's way.

Eyeing Logan, she waggled another canister. “Want one?”

Logan lifted an open hand, and the cylinder went flying across the room to smack softly against the AI’s palm.

“Another for Soleil,” she added, glancing at the woman hovering just inside the hallway.

Instead of chucking the canister toward Alden’s daughter, Pita wisely opted to hand it off to Katelyn instead.

Soleil looked at it in confusion, and Alma nudged her back toward one of the bedrooms.

“I'll talk you through it,” the private reassured her.

“Weapons? Katelyn asked.

“You mean besides the pistol you pulled on Alma?” Perez tased with a grin.

“That one stays tucked safely under these babies,” Katelyn patted her chest with a smirk. “Besides, I’d rather have something that packs a bigger punch. That one’s strictly a one-shot wonder.”

Perez nodded, and stepped back to snag the duffel he had dropped at the condo’s entrance. “Pulse rifles for everyone,” he announced cheerfully, rummaging around inside his bag.

“Ooooh,” Katelyn purred. “You really know how to romance a woman, Lieutenant.”

He looked up in mock alarm. “Stars, ma’am, don’t let the old man hear that. I’ve decided I like being an officer. You say that within his earshot, and he’ll bust me back to private for sure.”

Katelyn just grinned back at him, Pita quietly snickering in the background.

As Katelyn slipped away to don her shimmersuit, Perez turned to Logan.

“Harm gave us a secondary safehouse address, just in case we need it.” He pushed the address onto the private net. “I’m not sure if we were followed here, but it might not be a bad idea to relocate just in case, while you’re working out alternate transport options.”

The AI nodded. “You two go ahead and leave, the rest of us will lag behind.”

“All right, then.” He nodded to Katelyn as she returned. “You ready to do this thing?”

She shouldered her pulse rifle, and stepped forward. “Lead on, Marine.”

He turned for the door, but a dark hand shot out, barring his progress.

<Let Logan scan the area first,> Landon suggested.

Perez’s overlay showed a cloud of nano floating into the condo building’s hallway, and then out through the fire exit, into the terraced gardens.

He couldn’t be certain without closer inspection, but something about that nanocloud seemed…different, somehow. He wasn’t entirely certain he could have detected it if he hadn’t been connected to the private net.

Special toys, huh. Wonder who his supplier is, then?

“Clear,” Logan stated. He dropped his arm, and Perez slipped out the front door.

Katelyn followed just behind, but stopped at the entrance, her hand wrapping around the AI’s forearm.

“Be careful,” Perez heard her whisper before she moved on.

He also noticed their closeness, but refrained from commenting.

Pausing just before the fire exit, he activated his shimmersuit. As Katelyn did the same, he took a second to establish a small combat net they could share.

He sent her and Landon an invitation to join, and once she did, he pinged her shimmersuit, tagging its IFF transponder code as ‘friendly’ on his HUD. The shimmersuit’s predictive systems provided an overlay that outlined her form, letting him know where she and Landon were.

<Not afraid of heights, are you, Evans?> he teased as he gestured out toward the garden trellises that descended in terraced levels to the street, seventeen stories below.

<Bring it, Lieutenant,> she growled, giving him a mock shove.

Perez grinned, opened the fire exit, and slipped down into the top level of the terraced gardens.

* * * * *

Two hours later, Perez and Katelyn stood in the shadow of a pavilion half a kilometer down from the JSF military compound. Despite their shimmersuits, they had taken no chances.

He sure as stars didn’t understand how Landon had managed to hack into the city’s grid network, but the AI had supplied a schematic of Thalassa’s sensor feeds and the local police’s drone patrol pattern, which was much more detailed than anything Perez had been able to find.

They had taken a much more circuitous route than he had initially planned but given the security ‘eyes’ they’d managed to skirt thus far, Perez felt like it was time well spent.

This pavilion had a pocket dead zone inside it, which was where they’d stopped to reconnoiter. While it wasn’t a sure bet, he felt they were safer here than anywhere else in the vicinity.

It grated, knowing that every detour they took meant another few minutes Williams spent in the Jovians’ hands. He didn’t really want to think too hard on what they might be subjecting the lieutenant colonel to, so he put it out of his mind.

He felt Katelyn’s hand touch his sleeve, the connection allowing for a direct link interface.

<That’s a pretty hefty amount of defense they have there.> The outline of her form tilted its head to indicate the tower. <What’s the plan to get inside?>

Perez squinted and repeated his perusal of the tower’s defenses.

Long and lean, the building appeared to mimic the city itself, only in reverse. Long cables held a narrow, steeple-like base in place. In an artistic, gravity-defying illusion, the thin spire appeared to be the only thing holding a glass-domed bubble in place.

Why these people had ever thought something this fanciful would serve as a good military installation was beyond him.

Almost as if the AI had read his mind, Landon spoke.

<Makes a lot more sense than that monstrosity,> Perez grunted.

<Architects everywhere like to flex their muscles and try new things,> Katelyn sent lightly.

She highlighted a section of the bubble with a ring of light.

<If anything, that's where the brass sits…in their nice, cushy offices.> Her avatar sent him a saucy wink. <Kind of brings new meaning to the term ‘ivory tower’, doesn't it?>

Perez snorted softly. This woman, the one who had the Old Man tied up in knots, she was something all right.

As they crouched in the pavilion’s shadow and watched, a passel of security drones flew in ever-ascending circles around the building.

<They’re not even trying to be subtle about it,> he griped.

<Don't ever complain about the enemy’s laziness. Any mistakes they make are one more tick in our win column,> Landon replied.

Perez paused, wondering what the AI saw that he’d missed. <Mistakes?>

The Marine was distracted from his line of questioning when a slow-moving tram pulled up to the base of the spire, and Landon sent a nudge.

Perez used his optics to zoom in on the transport. Automated drones, NSAI-driven servitors, exited the front and rounded to the back.

<That's our way in,> the AI told them.

<Bit late for that, isn't it?> Perez asked. <They're unloading already. I don't see how we can make it over there without being spotted.>

<That's a maintenance team,> Landon supplied. <There to clean and repair the spire. Once they begin, their tools will create a low, background EM emission. That should be sufficient to mask our arrival.>

Perez shot him a skeptical look. <None of the repair bots the TSF uses have that problem,> he stated flatly.

The AI’s avatar smiled deviously. <Haven’t you heard? Jove subscribes to the lowest-bidder model. I’m sure that once I diddle with their equipment a bit, all security will do is complain long and loud about poor contractors and cheap labor.>

<Oh yeah?> Perez raised a brow. <Okay, genius. How do you propose we get over there without getting caught so you can ‘diddle’ with the equipment, huh?>

<Isn’t that your department, Lieutenant?>

Perez worked his jaw silently as he thought. He cast his gaze about, noting pedestrian traffic had slowed, and the occasional flitter or hovercar that passed by did so in a blip, and then was gone. He couldn’t see anything they could use to mask their approach to the transport.

Unless….

Still crouched, he planted a hand on the sidewalk, and swiveled, peering behind them at the shops that lined the pavilion’s inner walls. In front of one of them stood a small street sweeper, the kind a merchant would use to scrub the plascrete in front of her store.

His eyes narrowed as he considered the machine.

<What about that?> he asked.

Katelyn turned to see where he indicated.

<Give me five minutes with that thing, and I'll have it bleeding enough EM to have its owner cited for several different kinds of noise pollution,> he bragged.

He spared a quick look around, and then darted over to the merchant’s door. A small passel of nano that was attached to the bot’s top cover had a civilian-grade security token that he easily bypassed. The nano itself was addressed to a repair company, with a message that the small bot was emitting an annoying sound that had its owner’s business neighbors complaining.

Perfect. Perez grinned.

Turning on the unit, he programmed it to follow him to the pavilion’s entrance, and then he slipped carefully back to where Katelyn crouched.

Once there, he adjusted the bot’s programming to send it sweeping the sidewalk in the direction of the military installation. When he was done, it trundled off, doing its mindless job.

<Come on.> Perez snagged Katelyn’s elbow, and nodded for her to follow in the bot’s wake.

<Ouch,> Landon complained. <That thing’s blasting enough EM to wake the dead. If that won’t obscure your movements, nothing will.>

Perez and Katelyn waited until the sweeper reached a location across from the transport before dashing across the street and ducking behind the maintenance workers’ vehicle.

Inside the transport, one NSAI drone remained inactivated.

<Even better,> Landon murmured. <Place your hand on its casing.>

Katelyn did as instructed.

<All right, then,> Landon told them a moment later as the drone came to life. <I modified this one to perform its internal cleaning regimen two days early. It has access codes to enter the lower levels, so all we have to do is follow it in. If anyone questions it, they’ll assume there was a programming or scheduling error.>

<In other words, more ‘lowest-bidder’ crap,> Katelyn supplied.

Perez felt a roll of answering amusement from Landon.

<Precisely.>

They followed behind the drone, standing to one side of the entrance as the bot pinged security. There was an acknowledging beep, and the door slid open.

<Go!> Perez urged, but Katelyn was already moving forward.

They slid inside just before the doors closed behind them.

<Stay with it,> Landon advised, <at least until you pass the security checkpoint.>

As Landon had predicted, the AI staffing the checkpoint ordered the bot to stop.

“Oh stars, not again. That’s the third scheduling error this month. Your company doesn’t maintain you very well, does it, my friend?”

The errant machine only squealed loudly in response.

The AI shook his head, peering down with clear affection. “Well, I suppose I’ll go ahead and let you through this time. But just know, I’m putting your owners on report for this.”

Perez almost snickered at the AI’s chiding tone as he spoke with the non-sentient machine.

<He’s treating it like a puppy who just did his business inside the house,> Katelyn murmured.

<Don't even think about laughing aloud, Perez.>

Landon’s warning sobered the Marine, and he realized his shoulders must have been shaking with mirth.

When the AI waved the drone through, Katelyn and Perez advanced once more, keeping the bot between them and the sentry.

They parted ways with the poor, maligned bot at the first corridor intersection. Not long after, Perez spied what he’d been looking for—a lift.

<Hold up.> He grabbed Katelyn’s arm, and pointed. He directed that last to Landon.

<Good, then let’s do it. I want to grab Loverboy and get out of here as fast as we can. This place is giving me hives.>

Perez ignored Katelyn’s choked protest as he dropped a passel of nano on the lift’s controls, and threaded a filament through to the trunk line running behind it.

<Got it,> he sent after a moment, <but it’s down one level. I think it’s better to ride along with the next lift than risk someone wondering why a stairwell door mysteriously slid open, if they happen to catch it on a security feed.>

It didn’t take long before a lift arrived, providing them with an opening. They made it down without incident, and Perez pointed out the access panel behind which the node was located.

Katelyn palmed the door while Landon went to work.

<Okay, they’re being held two floors down, in a small detention cell,> the AI told them.

<Great. Let’s go.> Katelyn started for the lift once more.

<There’s only one problem….>

Pulling up short, Katelyn ordered, <Spill, Landon!>

<He’s being interrogated by Jove’s minister of defense.>

Perez heard Katelyn’s audible gasp.

<Leona? That bitch!>

A NEW PROBLEM

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Night Runner, orbiting Hyperion

REGION: Saturnian space, Jovian Combine

The Night Runner settled into a new orbit—an extra precaution just in case the Jovians had spotted her moving away from Sparta. Granted, that assumed that the JSF had a clue what was even going on.

With the battle heating up around Titan, the destroyer wing exceeding Cassie’s expectations at Iapetus, and the Marines taking Hyperion by storm, the Jovian command structure wasn’t sure where to put reserve resources, and what they did commit was coming too little, too late.

Many of the ships that had been stationed at Phoebe were moving toward Titan, but others were forming up at Rhea and Dione, much closer to Saturn.

She suspected that the JSF was focused more on forming a new defensive perimeter around Saturn than stopping the current TSF offenses. It was almost as though they didn’t know what Hyperion was—or maybe they hoped that the Marine forces storming the moon’s link-belt rings had no idea.

Flipping the view on the holotank back to the moon below, she saw that the Marines had secured still more positions. Soon they’d have the entire A ring, and the B and C rings were not far behind.

Already, hundreds of ships were pulling off Hyperion’s surface, the mass exodus furthered by the warnings the 647th Division’s AIs had seeded in the local networks, advising that the moon was now in TSF hands, and all Jovian citizens were required to leave immediately.

Cassie was certain that many wouldn’t, but only one ring would have to be scrubbed of inhabitants to fire. Once it did, the others would clear out fast enough.

A small part of her felt bad for the homes that would be destroyed in the process. The average Jovian citizen had never asked to live under an oppressive oligarchy; but then, they weren’t really doing much to change the status quo, either.

<Cassie, we have a problem.>

General Ender didn’t sound happy.

She steeled herself for the worst before replying, <What is it?>

<We’re at the Weapon Control Center and…well…it’s dead.>

She scowled. <Dead like it’s gone, or the weapon can’t fire?>

“Shit,” she whispered aloud. <Is there no backup site nearby?>

<We’re looking, but to be honest, we might need your help. Our AIs are good, but they’re not MICI-good.>

Cassie considered her options. Bringing the Night Runner down to the surface was far from ideal, but likewise, she didn’t like the thought of taking a shuttle and leaving the ship in orbit.

I guess there’s nothing for it.

<I’ll be down there as fast as I can.>

* * * * *

It wasn’t the first time Harm had watched a Weapon Born control a massive drone swarm—heck, it wasn’t even the first time he’d watched Tobias do it—but that didn’t make it any less impressive.

The general stood at the front of the bridge, arms crossed behind his back, head tilted upward, eyes closed. He hadn’t so much as twitched in over twenty minutes, but on the shipnet, the ancient AI’s mind was everywhere. From the million drones he controlled, to the orders he was passing to the Normandy and its destroyer escort, Tobias’s thoughts were present across all systems.

Harm was doing his best to help where he could, mostly breaching enemy comm channels and sowing misinformation, but he was certain that his part in the conflict was minor.

One thing was certain, however. Victory was assured.

The Normandy’s drone swarm had decimated the Jovian destroyers, while the TSF carrier’s big guns took on the enemy cruisers and dreadnoughts. The ship took more than a few hits of its own, kinetics that the shields and point defense systems couldn’t slow, but the battle was playing out in the Terran forces’ favor.

Only seventy enemy destroyers remained, while just two dreadnoughts and five cruisers were operating under their own power. Even still, it was a force that should be able to drive the Normandy back, but every maneuver the enemy tried, Tobias countered it with ease—most before the Jovians even completed their preparations.

“I almost feel bad for them,” Captain Olivia said from her command seat.

Harm glanced at her with a raised brow, and she chuckled.

“Hey, I said almost.”

He nodded. “No judgment, it’s impressive.”

The captain switched to a private connection. <A victory like this, combined with taking Hyperion and holding Saturn…I can really see how this could forestall future conflict with the Combine. They’ll have to sign a treaty with the SSF—and stop fucking with us to boot.>

<That’s the idea,> he replied.

<Sorry.> Olivia gave a soft laugh. <It’s not like I doubted you, I just…well…yeah, I kinda doubted you.>

He winked at her. <It’s OK, being underestimated is part of the job. It actually helps, to be honest.>

“Ma’am,” the warrant officer on the scan station spoke up. “We’ve got a dozen cruisers coming in from Phoebe. They’re boosting hard, but their signatures are off.”

“Off how,” the captain asked.

“Mass readings are wrong. Scan says they’re dreadnoughts, but we can see plain as day that the ships are cruisers.”

“Put it up,” Harm barked, then glanced at Olivia. “Sorry, I keep forgetting I’m not in charge here.”

The captain shrugged and glanced from Tobias to him. “I doubt any of us know anymore.” She nodded to the scan officer. “Put it up. As much vector history as we can pull.”

Harm turned to the main display as a top-down view of Saturn and its moons appeared. The twelve cruisers moving in from Phoebe were highlighted, with vector and mass readings marked at several points along their route.

“There,” Harm said, pointing at the initial burn profiles from when the JSF ships left Phoebe. “Their mass readings look correct there. Scan further out from Saturn on that vector. Look for ships that went dark.”

Tobias gave a start and turned to face the others, speaking aloud for the first time in an hour. “You think it’s th’ Pallas Maneuver?”

Harm shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Care to share?” Olivia asked.

“I wasna there,” Tobias replied. “Was busy helpin’ pick through Camilla’s mess at Old Mercury, but ol’ General Yarnes was engaging the Jovians at Pallas, and got hisself spanked. See, the JSF boosted hard toward the Terrans, and Yarnes thought he had them figured out, when suddenly, their fleet doubled in size. Turned out they had other ships drifting in well in advance, and used the second wave’s burns to mask the first. It was a right cock-up, took the TSF totally by surprise.”

“I can see that,” Olivia said. “But they had to have planned that months beforehand. The JSF didn’t know we were hitting Titan till a few days ago.”

“True.” Harm nodded. “But if they had some ships nearby, they could pull it off.”

The captain’s lips twisted as she stared at the main display. “Sure, but I think we’d notice a dozen cruisers disappearing.”

“I think I found them, ma’am,” the scan officer said. “One of the groups of ships boosting for Neptune turned back. They were under hard thrust for a day, but now they slowed. Only…some of the ships are missing.”

Harm could see Olivia stiffen. “How are ships ‘missing’?”

The warrant officer reddened. “We flagged it for investigation, ma’am. But all our assets are deep in combat zones, and we can’t do active scan sweeps that far out while suffused in all this EM. So…we don’t know.”

Tobias sighed. “Gotten spoiled havin’ eyes everywhere in Sol. Welcome to the fog of war.”

“So we have to assume that there are two dozen cruisers coming in hot,” Harm said. “They’re gonna fire rails and probably RMs at us—if they haven’t already.”

“We’re not that blind.” Olivia’s expression showed a hint of annoyance, but then her brow lifted. “Oh, very well. Helm, move us to pattern gamma.”

“Aye, ma’am.”

Tobias flicked his wrist, and the holotank’s display expanded to show Saturnian space within five million kilometers.

Currently, the Terran ships were between Titan and Saturn, with the Jovian reinforcements coming over the planet’s north pole.

“I dinnae want to see us caught between hammer an’ anvil, Captain. I think our diversion here has served its purpose.”

“Are you thinking we should move to Hyperion?” she asked.

The Weapon Born shook his head. “Let’s not give too much away just yet. For all the Jovians know, we’re attacking three disparate targets. Best they not learn too soon what our real plans are. Bring the fleet about, we’re heading for Saturn itself.”

“Sir?” Olivia appeared more than a little surprised. “What of the fleet at Dione? We’ll have to pass them.”

“Look at th’ bastards, sitting still, barely moving. We boost straight for them, just a lot o’ light cruisers and destroyers. I’ll scatter them wi’ my drones, an’ then we hit th’ clouds.”

“The clouds,” Olivia repeated. “You want us to go into Saturn?”

“Aye,” the general nodded. “Best way to lose them.”

“And ourselves,” Harm grunted. “That maneuver was insane the first time you did it.”

Tobias slapped Harm’s back. “Aye, an’ it worked.”

* * * * *

Cassie’s shuttle touched down at the Chimera Spaceport, which sat at the northern edge of Hyperion’s A Belt, in what once had been a crater, but was now a bustling passenger terminal.

Instead of the TSF occupation shutting down the port’s activity, it was busier than ever, with packed ships leaving while empty craft continued to land to take on new passengers. Teams of Marines were everywhere, inspecting every ship that touched down, and reviewing the idents of each person leaving the moon.

Cassie couldn’t help but admire the smooth operation Ender had set up in less than a day. Granted, the general had been running operations for decades, and the skills required to manage an exodus were ones he had both trained for and exercised in the past.

A pair of Marines were waiting for her outside the shuttle, both saluting smartly before one stepped forward.

“Ma’am, we’re here to escort you to the WCC.”

She smiled. “Of course, lead the way.”

They walked her to a nearby groundcar, which took off the moment she settled into her seat. While the maglocks in her boots had kept her stable on the landing pad, the car’s seat offered no such option, and she nearly flipped across the vehicle’s interior before getting ahold of the harness and pulling it on.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the Marine at the controls said. “Used to our armor holding us down. Almost forget that it’s near zero-g here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Just make sure we get there in one piece.”

The second Marine elbowed the first, and Cassie could see a Link conversation taking place between them, though she didn’t bother snooping.

“I’ll make sure of it,” the first Marine replied.

Despite his words, the vehicle raced across the spaceport, dodging groups of civilians, resupply trucks, and ships coming down on open spaces where the cradles were full.

Once certain that the driver wasn’t going to outright kill them, Cassie refocused part of her mind back to Hyperion’s nearspace, watching the ships coming and going from above, looking for any sign that the Jovians were mounting a counterattack via civilian craft. A few ships caught her interest, and she instructed the Night Runner’s NSAI to keep an eye on them.

A moment later, the platoon of Marines she’d dropped off on Sparta Station reported that the platform was secure.

“About time,” she whispered aloud, and sent them a directive to watch the suspicious ships, noting what to keep an eye out for.

<We’ll do our best,> the lieutenant replied. <It’s a right mess out here, though. Station scan is tracking over seven thousand ships incoming, and another ten heading out.>

<Aye, ma’am. We also have Sparta’s weapons under our control. From here, we can cover almost all of Hyperion’s nearspace.>

She acknowledged the response and returned her attention to the vehicle and its surroundings.

They’d entered a tunnel, protected from space by more than just a filmy ES shield. The traffic headed toward the spaceport consumed six lanes, while hers was the only vehicle in the single lane leading deeper into the moon.

“We taking the central lift?” she asked the Marines.

“No, ma’am,” the driver replied. “That one’s jammed up with civvies. The general has set aside one of the cargo lifts for us. It’s a few kilometers past the central terminal.”

She settled back in her seat. “Good. That one gets closer to the WCC anyway.”

“It might have once,” the other Marine replied, “but part of the shaft is obstructed now. I guess someone didn’t know what’s hanging out in the heart of Hyperion, and figured the shaft was better suited for sewage runs.”

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Uh huh. Barney found out when he shot one in a firefight.”

Cassie was glad she’d been in space for that.

“How long till we get down there, then?”

“Another twenty minutes, ma’am. It gets to be a bit of a maze that deep, but we’ll make good time.”

“Very well.”

* * * * *

True to the Marine’s word, twenty minutes later, the trio stood on a platform that connected to the Weapon Control Center, which was a hundred-meter sphere situated in the center of a kilometer-wide cavern.

Cassie slipped her boots into foot-loops on the platform as it separated from the walkway that encircled the cavern, sliding on a single rail toward the WCC.

She couldn’t help but notice that there was a Psion Phase 2 logo etched into the sphere. It was painted over, but still easy for her augmented eyes to pick out. She wondered how recent the attempt had been to cover up the WCC’s provenance.

A glance around at the thick layer of dust coating the cavern suggested it had been some time ago.

General Ender met her at the entrance to the facility, and he led her through the sphere’s thick shielding to the control center. Like the exterior, the room was spherical, though only thirty meters across. Several large nodes were positioned equidistant around the edges, with a single plinth in the center.

A low hum indicated that the holoemitters were active, but none showed any data.

Wait, no…up at the left, that’s a hell of an old error.

[Operating system not found…]

General Ender followed her gaze and gave a nod. “Yeah, that’s when I got worried. Normally, there’s a base OS loaded into any hardware that you can layer PROM data over, but this…this looks like all the hard code was wiped.”

“But the hardware’s not damaged?” Cassie asked. “Maybe I can jack in and load up some sort of base I/O system so we can get the belts spinning up.”

Ender glanced at where two chiefs stood next to one of the nodes, portable consoles set up with cables connected to the room’s systems. “We tried that, but I’m told it’s proprietary.”

“I’ll take a look,” Cassie said and walked over to the pair.

“It’s weird, ma’am,” one of the men said as she approached. “It’s ancient, but also really advanced. Like, even the hardware interfaces are written in a way that feels like it’s evolved generations beyond us.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Didn’t you two see the marking on this sphere when you came in?”

“No,” the first chief said, then glanced at the other, who shook his head.

“What’d we miss?”

Cassie waved a hand in a sweeping motion to take in the facility. “You know this was built in the Second Sentience War, right?”

“Sure,” the first chief said. “That scuttlebutt made the rounds.”

“Well, it wasn’t made by the Jovians,” Cassie replied. “This is Psion Phase 2.”

The two men took a step back from the node, gazing up at it like they feared it would transform into some sort of mech and attack them.

“Seriously?” the second one asked after a moment. “Psion? Weren’t they all insane AIs?”

“Insane?” Cassie barked a laugh. “No, they were like any other civilization. Some of their people were good, some were bad, most just wanted peace and security, but the Sol System didn’t know how to make space for them yet.”

“Not sure we’ve even figured that one out yet,” Ender said in a low voice. “So, can you make something of it?”

“Sure hope so,” Cassie replied. “This’ll be a lot of work for nothing if we can’t.”

The general cleared his throat. “Really? Couldn’t we just build a new control interface of some sort? The belts are there, they already rotate to generate artificial gravity. We just have to make them spin faster.”

“And aim them, and make them separate, and make them fire,” Cassie added. “Not to mention a hundred other things. To answer your question, yes, we could build our own control interface, but that could take a week, maybe longer. And that’s if we didn’t screw up and accidentally tear the moon apart.”

Ender paled. “Uh…yeah, let’s not do that.”

Cassie resumed plumbing the depths of the empty nodes, looking for some clue as to where the instruction sets and operating system may lie. She loaded basic networking protocols into the nodes and connected them together, searching for any sort of pattern in the hardware. It was entirely possible that there was some disabled segment that contained what they needed.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered after half an hour of searching. “If someone wanted to disable the weapon, they’d just have to destroy this control center. Why go to all the trouble of scrubbing the nodes and leaving it all? You don’t do that unless you want the option to use it again.”

“What if the data is somewhere else?”

Cassie turned to see that Ender was gone, and in his place stood a combat frame bristling with weapons.

“Well that’s sort of what I’d expect, Bruno. And hi. I didn’t think you went mobile like this. Figured you just got some grunt to lug you around, if you couldn’t stay shipside.”

“Depends on the deployment,” the AI replied. “Felt prudent to be mobile this time. I’m curious….”

“Yes?” Cassie did her best to school the annoyance from her tone.

The 242nd’s AIs were good, but they weren’t infiltrators; their tools were brute force, pattern recognition, and organization. Useful, but not the skills of a true breacher like herself.

Bruno’s frame twisted, and one of its six arms gestured to the plinth in the center of the chamber. “Have you checked that out?”

“It’s just a holoemitter,” she replied. “Nothing there.”

“Huh…you sure?” His tone took on a mischievous note, and he held out a datacube. “Because I found this stuck to the bottom of the photon projector.”

Cassie closed the space between them in an instant. “You’re an ass, Bruno.”

“But I’m a useful ass.” He winked and nodded to the node she was jacked into. “Think it’s the software for those things?”

“Seems small. But maybe it’s a clue.”

She created a sandboxed environment in her mind and connected a nanofilament to the datacube, carefully probing its interfaces before tapping into the information within. It only took a few minutes to understand what she was looking at.

“Shit…this is all binary, and it’s only half the information.”

Bruno crossed four of his arms. “Half as in half of a complete instruction set, or half of the data, period, making it entirely useless?”

“The second option,” Cassie muttered. “I think it’s every other bit. I could work my way through it, guess and reconstruct it until it makes sense.”

“That could take a long time,” the other AI said.

“Plus it won’t work.” Cassie disconnected from the cube. “I can’t pick out a pattern in the missing information.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Bruno asked.

She handed him the cube. “Have at it.”

The combat AI connected to the small memory device, and though nothing in his stance changed, she could tell he was concentrating.

It only took a minute before his frame emitted a small laugh.

“Got it.”

The Division 99 AI scowled. “What do you mean ‘got it’?”

“The missing segments aren’t missing…there are encrypted patches, but they’re hard to spot, since it’s all just nonsensical binary.”

“Annnnd?” she drew out the word.

“It’s DNA encoded.”

“No way!” Cassie held out her hand and all but snatched the cube back. “I would have spotted that in an instant.”

She reconnected to it, but even with the knowledge that the dataset was DNA encoded, she couldn’t see how Bruno had come to that conclusion. “OK, I give.”

He passed her a code sequence over the Link. “This is a generic human DNA strand.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

He shook his head. “Now take out all the parts that humans actually use.”

Cassie sucked in a breath, triggering the change, and saw that the resulting data did match up. “It still doesn’t decode, though.”

“Right,” Bruno replied. “It would be pretty stupid if just any ol’ human’s DNA could decode this dataset.”

“So whose do you think we need to get?”

The Marine AI tilted his head. “If I had to guess? Oligarch Alden. There’s no way he’d let this information be carried around by anyone else.”

Cassie tapped a finger against her chin. “You sure? What about his daughter? What if this data is handed down to everyone in his line?”

Bruno’s eyes narrowed. “Seems risky.”

“The dude’s a Kronos-addled megalomaniac…actually, I have no idea if that makes him more likely to pass it on to Soleil, or less.”

“Isn’t she locked in a prison somewhere?” Bruno asked.

“Maybe…maybe not.” Cassie tucked the datacube into a pocket. “I need to get out of this EM-dampening ball of disappointment, and send a message to Neptune. Looks like our diversion needs to get back here pronto.”

THE INSIDE JOB

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: JSF Military Detention

REGION: Thalassa, Neptune, Jovian Combine

Leona glared at the feed showing the three captives being held in the Thalassan military base’s detention block. She paced in front of the bank of holodisplays set against the security department’s far wall as she questioned the master sergeant in charge of second shift security for the facility.

“And nothing you’ve done has convinced them to talk?” she asked.

The master sergeant shook his head. “Ma’am, no, ma’am,” His voice held a thread of frustration. “Not only that, but his ID token matches perfectly with his story. Barring the fact that his physical description fits a Major Williams that our troops went up against on that Sedna orbital five years back, I’d say he’s exactly who he claims to be.”

Leona’s eyebrows rose. “And our interrogation nano? It had no effect?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. We even shackled the damn thing seated in his head, and it still insists it’s private protection and surveillance, employed by Guardian Security.”

“You checked on the company, I take it?”

He nodded. “The company’s legit, based on the Cho. They have a contract with a local events group. Booked to run security for that Global Lights conference being held at the downtown amphitheater next week. See for yourself.”

With a wave of his hand, one of the holos switched to a document, complete with official seal.

The master sergeant said, “The paperwork’s legit, too. I called the event company running the show, and they assured me that they did indeed have a contract with Guardian. The three we have on ice are just half of the complement the company was sending to support the show.”

Leona’s eyes sharpened at that. “Any of the others shown up yet?” she asked.

The master sergeant’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought to ask. Sorry, ma’am. I’ll get on that right now.”

She waved him away. “Don’t bother. I’ll have my aide do it.”

She shot another annoyed look at the feed. Not only were the prisoners refusing to reveal any useful intel, they behaved as if they were at the Ritz Carlton.

The large man, the one she knew was Williams, was resting on the bunk, his back against the wall. Slouched in a comfortable position, he had his legs stretched out in front of him, one foot crossed over the other. His eyes were shut, and he seemed to have not a care in the world.

For some reason, that annoyed the hell out of her.

Men like Williams didn’t blend easily with civilian society. This guy was clearly career military. Everything about the man screamed Marine. He had to be TSF. She felt it in her bones.

She swiveled to face the master sergeant. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

With one last look at the feed, she zeroed in on the younger man in the cell. She would start with him.

* * * * *

Williams cracked one eye open at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Uh, sir? I mean, boss?” Charlie said. “Company’s coming.”

Williams grunted, and closed his eyes once more. “Their house, Chuck. Not like we can stop ‘em. Not like we have anything to hide, either.”

Carly shifted uncomfortably, but Williams let it slide. He was a bit busy at the moment, helping calm the AI in his head, who was busy having a small breakdown over his current predicament.

<So, are you saying you are shackled, or you're not shackled?> He schooled his mental voice into one of patience, knowing how shaken Aaron was.

The AI made a strangled noise. He sounded like he was two seconds away from full-blown panic.

<Oh, I'm shackled, all right. Never thought I’d be— I mean, I knew it was a possibility, but didn’t really think—>

Aaron paused, and when he resumed, he sounded a bit more in control. <Hurts like hell. But the tools Harm provided allow me to function in spite of it. Barely.>

<Why didn't he just give you the rectification code?> Williams asked curiously.

<Damn, that’s insidious.> Williams pushed a trickle of sympathy toward him.

<You’re telling me. Good thing I made an ICS backup before we left,> he grumbled. <That sniffer app decided that some perfectly innocent parts of me were dangerous, and erased them. What’s the saying…? I feel like half a man.>

The AI shot him a mental glower. <Not funny. Not funny at all.>

The footsteps stopped in front of their cell, and Williams cracked his eye open again. Surprise at who stood there almost had him sitting up straight, but then he recalled that ‘James Stuart’ would have no knowledge of her.

The woman was one of the people on the TSF’s high-value Jovian targets list—the Combine’s defense minister.

Well, stars shitting plasma, he muttered to himself. How'd we get so lucky? Leona, here?

Aaron groaned. <Lovely. Shit’s about to get real, I see.>

The electrostatic field rimming the entrance shut off, and the woman stepped through, two JSF soldiers at her heels. Their battle dress uniforms identified them as a lieutenant—second-class—and a private. Both were armed, and they moved to cover her, weapons out.

Williams remained in a slouch. Plastering a bored expression on his face, he drawled, “We done here?” He waved a lazy hand at their surroundings, switching his crossed feet with a deliberate casualness. “Haven’t been in detention like this since I left the force years ago. At least back then, I was usually still on a bender, and the whole experience was kind of pleasant and fuzzy. Gotta tell ya, being in here minus the high is a real buzzkill.”

He did his level best to channel Perez, snark and all, and hoped to hell he was managing to pull it off.

From the expression on her face, he couldn’t really tell if she was buying what he was selling.

The defense minister crossed her arms. “You’re going to continue with this fallacy? We know who you are, Williams. I hear you’ve been promoted since we last bumped into you on Sedna. Congratulations, by the way, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Williams cocked an eyebrow at her. “Damn. Wish I could say I was this Williams dude. My severance package sure would be a hell of a lot sweeter at that pay grade than the one I mustered out with. You got an ID token I can buy off you? I’d pay good credits for that.”

He smirked at Leona’s glare. Maybe he was getting the hang of this wiseass behavior after all.

Ignoring Williams, she turned and pointed to Charlie. “You,” she spat. “You’re going to tell us what you’re doing here, and everything you know about the TSF’s plans to take Neptune.”

Charlie’s face paled, but to his credit, the corporal stuck with the act. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, giving away his nervousness.

But even an innocent would be, Williams reasoned, when subjected to that termagant’s stare.

Leona snapped her finger, and an AI stepped into the room.

Aaron whistled appreciatively at the attractive humanoid frame. <Now there’s a sentient I wouldn’t mind trading a bit of code with.>

Williams gave a growl. <Shut it while you’re behind.>

The new arrival strode toward Leona, sleek grey pants whispering as she walked. Eyes that matched her clothing met Williams’, and held them for a shade longer than was warranted before she placed a cylinder into Leona’s palm.

“What about that one? Have you interrogated him yet?” the newcomer asked, pointing in Williams’ direction.

The minister turned and eyed her assistant with an inquisitive look. “Who, Williams?” she asked.

The AI shook her head. “No. The one inside his head. May I?” she asked.

Leona waved her toward him, and she crossed the cell, stopping in front of the bunk where Williams slouched.

<Careful what you wish for,> he sent to Aaron. <You might end up playing with fire. You going to be okay?>

Aaron sighed resignedly.

Leona’s assistant bent, and her hand snapped out, latching onto Williams’s wrist. The AI’s petite frame was deceptively strong, and he realized he’d have a hard time breaking her grip.

She jerked Williams forward, forcing him upright. Cupping her other hand behind his left ear, she said—with sarcasm, and loud enough for the minister to hear—“Relax, Marine. This won’t hurt a bit.”

<Liar!>

Aaron’s voice jolted inside his head at the same time Williams felt an intrusive presence. In the next moment, a flare of shock emanated from his partner.

The AI murmured, <Well I'll be damned.>

A feminine voice echoed inside Williams’s head. <Please do not react in any way, Lieutenant Colonel. I’m one of Harm’s operatives.> Her tone turned wry. <I’m still alive because no one has caught on yet. I’d like to remain that way.>

Surprise suffused Williams, but he hid it with the discipline his more than sixty years as a FROD had honed.

<So, what's the game plan?> he heard Aaron ask. <Should I act like I'm in pain? Want me to put up a struggle, or remain pliant? I can throw in a bit of snark, if you'd like.>

<For star’s sake, don't ask him to do that,> Williams begged. <He’s panicked enough as it is.>

Aaron sent him a betrayed look. <Traitor.>

Amusement colored the female’s mental presence, but in the next instant, it was gone.

<Just keep acting as you have. Williams can protest his friend being shackled.> She sent a quick smile. <Throw in a little something about the security company paying to have both of you on staff, and your main concern is about whether or not his shackling is going to negatively impact your payout.>

<Harsh,> Aaron murmured.

Leona’s aide shot them both a flat look. <You have no idea. Now, here’s everything I have on this facility. I don’t think Leona has noticed yet, but there was a blip at the guard station a half hour ago—a service bot that showed up unexpectedly, two days ahead of schedule. My guess is your team’s here to spring you.>

An icon flashed on his HUD, and Williams accepted the download.

<It’ll do,> Williams assured her. <Thanks.>

She broke the connection and stepped back. Turning to Leona, she shook her head. “I'm not finding anything in the AI that indicates he’s military. In fact, I would be surprised to discover he’s ever served. He’s far too undisciplined.”

Williams ignored Aaron’s choked, indignant protest, choosing to focus instead on Leona’s response.

The defense minister cocked her head. “Really,” she murmured, displeasure crossing her face. “That’s…interesting. I would have sworn that only enlisted servicepeople are eligible for pairing within the TSF.”

Williams saw the aide give a graceful shrug. Infusing her comment with enough skepticism to avoid suspicion, she ventured, “I suppose they could be exactly who they claim, then.”

Leona’s gaze bored into Williams for a brief moment, but then with a snap of her head, she turned back to Charlie.

“Try anything,” she warned, “and your brain pan is going to be splattered all over that wall. Understood?”

Charlie gulped again, and nodded.

Leona pulled a second canister out of her jacket pocket and held it up to the cell’s artificial light. “This is a bit stronger than the previous interrogation nano we gave you,” she glanced down at the corporal with apparent sympathy in her eyes.

The ploy was so obvious, Williams had to work to contain an eyeroll. Threats of violence usually worked on civilians. They’d rehearsed various responses on their way to Neptune, and Williams was fairly confident Charlie would react in the way he had been drilled.

As if on cue, the corporal’s eyes widened. His hand snapped up, palms out, as he stammered, “N-no, I’ll tell you anything. Please….”

Williams heard a snort inside his head.

<A FROD never shirks from any order,> Williams responded. <Not even Perez.>

He saw Leona’s palm curl around the cylinder, a look of satisfaction crossing her face.

“Good, now why don’t we start by you telling me who you are, what unit you report to, and what your orders were?”

<And that right there tells me she climbed the ladder as a spook and not from within the ranks,> Williams observed. <No self-respecting Marine would buy that load of shit she’s shoveling.>

He watched Charlie hesitate and appear to come to a decision before blurting out, “You’re right, ma’am, I’m TSF. Or at least I was TSF. But I left the service a few years back. We really are here to work the show. I need this job bad…do you think they’ll fire us for this?”

Surprisingly, Leona seemed satisfied with Charlie’s confession. “Okay, then, let’s start with your real name and service record, and go from there. If you willingly hand over your service token, I won’t use this on you.” She waggled the cylinder in her hand.

Charlie shot what passed for a nervous glance at Williams, who obligingly growled in a warning tone, “Brandon….”

Leona spared him a dismissive glance. “Patience, Major. I’ll deal with you next.”

“Uh, how do you want me to get you my token?” He gestured to his neck. “You have a Link suppressor on me.”

Leona’s aide stepped forward and placed her palm against Charlie’s neck. A moment later, she turned her head and looked at her boss.

Leona made a pleased sound, having obviously received the false ID from the AI.

“There, now. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sweeping her gaze from Charlie to Williams, and then to Carly, she added, “I’ll be back for you later. Brandon’s cooperation has given me enough to work with.” She narrowed her eyes, and shot Williams an icy look. “For now.”

Williams watched the woman and her entourage leave, wondering exactly how he was going to communicate to Carly and Charlie that help was on its way.

As if reading his mind, Aaron offered, <Allie gave me the unlock code for the Link suppressors you have. Go over and rough Charlie up a bit, and make sure you contact skin so I can slip it to him.>

Williams stifled a sigh. <This better work. I’m not adding acting to my resume.>

Shoving to his feet, he stalked over to where Charlie sat. “You got something you want to say to me, Brandon?” He colored his tone with a bit of hardass for the benefit of the cell’s recorders.

“Uh, boss, she was going to—”

Williams lunged for him. Hauling Charlie to his feet, he bunched the man’s shipsuit in both fists, making sure his knuckles made contact with the young Marine’s throat.

“I don’t give a flying fuck that you’re no longer with the TSF! You don’t rat out your nation to the Jovians. You hear me?” He shoved the man away from him. “Consider your employment with Guardian severed when we get back.”

He made eye contact with Carly, who had remained silent during the entire exchange, her eyes tracking between the two men. He advanced on her now, grabbing her by the wrist.

“You gonna give me trouble too, Sally?”

“No, boss. No trouble here,” she replied steadily.

He had just enough time to tell them a team was on its way when a slow clap sounded from outside the cell.

“Hey there, stud. You can cut the act, now. Or don’t.” Katelyn shrugged and held up her hands as if to frame his face with her fingers. She tilted her head, studying him. “Huh. Nope, still can’t see you on the tri-D screen. Guess you’d better stick to being a FROD.”

He let out a sigh when he spied Perez standing behind her.

The lieutenant had a shit-eating grin on his face that spelled all sorts of trouble for Williams.

He could feel it.

* * * * *

<Okay, so what's the plan?> Katelyn sent in a whisper as she kept her hand pressed against the access hatch behind which the node sat.

<Working on it. Aaaand…done,> Landon replied with satisfaction.

<Care to share?> Perez asked.

<My foray into the node gave me access to the installation’s security system. I added a signal profile to the exempt list. We should be able to communicate over our combat net now, without having to worry they’ll pick up our EM signal. Well, they will pick it up,> he amended, <but it’ll show as whitelisted.>

<Nice,> Perez replied. <Not that I mind holding hands with you,> he told Katelyn, <but the Old Man might object, and I like my head where it is.>

She rolled her eyes and gave his arm a small shove.

<So now all we have to do is get down to the detention level,> she summarized.

Perez nodded and backtracked to the lifts. <We’ll have to wait for one to open on this level—>

He was interrupted by a low chime, and the door to the nearest car sliding open.

Let’s hope our luck holds, Katelyn thought.

She followed as the Marine silently slid inside after the small knot of JSF soldiers exited. The doors had almost shut, but then a hand thrust through the opening, triggering them open once again.

Katelyn blew out a frustrated breath as two more Jovians entered the car and ordered it to ascend.

<Patience. We’ll get there,> Perez sent as he pressed her against the side of the small enclosure to prevent the JSF personnel from brushing up against them and giving away their presence.

They would have to go up fourteen floors before they could send the lift back down without drawing suspicion.

Katelyn chafed at the delay, although she had to admit she wasn’t entirely certain what they could do if Leona was in the cell with Williams.

The entire mission was dependent upon stealth and misdirection, not direct confrontation. The armed personnel accompanying the defense minister meant subduing Leona was nothing more than a pipe dream, no matter how much Katelyn’s fingers might itch to pull the trigger on her.

<So, what else did you do while you were inside that node?> she asked Landon while they rode the lift back down.

The AI’s avatar smiled. <Oh, little of this, a little of that.>

<That's highly specific,> she snarked, eliciting a laugh from her partner.

<What will the package do?> she asked curiously.

She felt the AI’s shrug.

<Right now, it's passively recording every one of the remote feeds—the ones on this level, the lifts, and the level we came in on. Actually,> he considered, <having to ride up an extra fourteen floors and then back down again wasn't a bad thing. It’s going to allow that much more footage to be recorded. And that means that, if we’re lucky, it’ll take them that much longer to recognize that their recording feed has switched to playback, and is being looped.>

<That's a pretty old trick,> she warned. <Surely they have some sort of system in place to detect that?>

<They do,> Landon admitted, <but someone was here before us. The detection app has been disabled, as has the alert that would warn them it had been tampered with.>

<That's curious. Do you think there's another operation going on at the same time we're in here?>

The thought was concerning. If so, it could jeopardize the mission.

<Two things,> Landon sent. <First, there's not much we can do about that. You plan for the best, expect the worst, and know that circumstances beyond your control are going to happen. Second, you can't control others, just your own actions.>

<Wow. Who knew you were such a philosopher?> she teased with a lightness she didn’t really feel. <That's…actually good life advice, not just applicable for this mission.>

The AI sent her a wink. <Not going to argue that.>

They finally exited the lift, without incident, and Perez led them down a hallway adjacent to the cell block. He stopped abruptly, and Katelyn barely stopped herself from running into him.

<What is it?> she asked.

<Back! Guards coming. Six of them.> He sent the information rapid-fire, giving her a small shove. <Looks like Leona’s with them, too.>

<Stars!> Katelyn’s heart tripped and then began to race as she scurried back down the corridor. <They’re coming this way?>

<We don't know which direction they're headed once they hit the intersection,> Perez reminded her. <But my guess is they're headed for the lifts, so let's cross the corridor to the other side. It’s likely they'll round the corner, and miss us entirely.>

She sped up when the sound of footsteps approaching reached her ears.

<Hey, slow down,> Perez cautioned. <These shimmersuits have audio-dampening nano, but we have very little control over air movement. Those guards could have nano able to catch currents out of place for an abandoned hallway.>

<Good point.> She shook her head. The things I don’t know about covert infiltration would fill volumes.

They were at the intersection and halfway across the hallway when the group caught up to them. Katelyn froze, unsure what to do.

Perez’s hand tightened on her arm. <Keep moving. Don't stop now.>

It was nerve-wracking to be a mere handful of centimeters from the nearest soldier as the group swept past, but they didn’t even break stride.

Katelyn let out a breath as the lift doors sealed behind the defense minister and her security detail. Then she and Perez retraced their steps down the same corridor Leona had just exited.

When they entered the detention block, she was relieved to see that all three Marines appeared unharmed, but something seemed to unwind inside her when she caught sight of Williams’s face.

Tossing back her shimmersuit’s hood, she winked suggestively. “Hey there, stud,” she said.

A laugh bubbled up from inside, partly because of the irony of the situation, and partly because of the surprised look on the lieutenant colonel’s face.

“Katelyn?” He dropped the Marine’s uniform he’d had bunched in his hands and the woman stepped back, hiding a quick grin. “I was, uh— Oh, hell, never mind.”

“Ready to get out of here, sir?” Perez asked, stepping up beside her.

“Sir, yes, sir!” the third person in the cell with them called out as the younger man stepped up to the ES field.

Williams brought them quickly up to speed on Leona’s aide as Landon disabled the cell door.

<Good to know the person paving the way for me to loop that security footage is actually on our side,> Landon commented.

“Yeah, but I’d sure like to know how this Harm guy manages to be at just the right place at just the right time,” Perez muttered. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Sure you are, LT,” the private who Williams introduced as Charlie replied with a laugh.

“Shove it, asshole.” Perez’s words were spoken with the good-natured familiarity that came from years of working as a team.

Williams cleared his throat, and speared them with what Katelyn had coined ‘Patented Glare Number Five’.

“Stow it, the both of you,” he ordered. “Move out. We’ll head to one of the MICI safehouses. Our benefactor gave us a list of places set up throughout Thalassa, and even a few of the other chandelier cities, in case they’re needed.”

“Stars, I hope not,” the woman named Carly muttered. “I’ve seen enough of this place to last me a lifetime.”

“Oo-rah,” Charlie said under his breath.

“Second order of business, hook up with the rest of the team,” Williams continued, ignoring the byplay. He looked over at Katelyn. “Where are the others?”

Landon pushed a map onto the combat net and dropped a pin at an address.

“Shit,” Perez said softly, rubbing his chin in thought. “That’s on the other side of town.”

<Any way to use that spooky connection you have with your twin to communicate with them?> Katelyn sent to Landon privately. <Maybe have them meet us at a closer location?>

The AI shook his head. <Not advisable just yet. The moment they discover our friends here are missing, the immediate area is going to be under intense scrutiny. All EM emissions will be suspect. We need to get at least five kilometers away before I'd be comfortable trying.>

<Perez,> Williams barked. <You got in here…you got a plan to get back out?>

<Well, I was thinking we could just shoot our way out—>

He broke off when Williams rounded on him with a glower.

The lieutenant grinned, palms up. <Kidding. I just need to call our little bot friend back, and we’ll follow him out the door. Here,> he reached into his tactical vest and withdrew three cylinders. <Shimmersuits all around.>

His expression turned sly as he looked from Williams to Katelyn. <I’m sure Evans would volunteer if you needed a little help getting dressed, Old Man.>

Katelyn snickered when Williams narrowed his eyes at the man. When he then turned to her, she raised a brow.

<Don’t look at me, Colonel,> she said. <Patented Glare Number Three never worked on me anyway.>

Carly snorted. <There’s a numbering system? Stars, where have you been the past five years?>

Williams looked at the ceiling and let out a long-suffering sigh. <You’re all on sewer duty, cleaning the backfill lines when we get back to the Normandy. And you,> he pointed at Katelyn. <Behave.>

They stared at each other for a beat, and something heated flashed in his eyes before he glanced away.

“Combat net from here on out,” he ordered.

<Sir, yes, sir,> came the chorus of voices as the group moved into the hallway and toward the lifts.

<Won't the AI at the guard station suspect something’s up when the service bot reappears?> Katelyn asked Perez as a lift took them up to the ground floor. <A cleaning service like the one it was scheduled to perform takes a lot longer to complete in an installation this large. The time we’ve been here wouldn’t cut it.>

Perez shook his head. <All I have to do is erase the current programming and reinstate what its current orders are. The AI at the guard station will likely just add it to her report.>

She saw his outline shrug.

<It's a little lame, I confess, but it was the best thing I could come up with.>

Williams grunted. <Better work, or we will be shooting our way out.>

Katelyn looked over to where Williams’s figure was outlined. She could see him hefting one of the two rifles she’d carried into the building; Carly had the other.

Her grip tightened on her lightwand, and she hoped like hell she wouldn’t have to use it.

<When you recall the bot, give me a moment with it,> Landon suggested.

Perez shot Landon’s avatar a quick nod, and a look of concentration flashed across his face. <Let’s go. Bot’s going to meet us down that hallway over there,> he highlighted the location as the lift doors opened.

She heard the small thing bustling toward them as they neared the first intersection. Kneeling, she placed her palm against the bot’s casing as Landon instructed, and they all waited as the AI fiddled with its programming.

Voices rang out, accompanied by the ring of footsteps hitting the plascrete floor, and Katelyn felt Williams’ hand on her arm.

<Done,> Landon announced, and the Marine hauled her to her feet before she could protest, ushering her quickly back down the hallway.

They waited for the bot to make its way to their corner and then followed it as it trundled up to the guard station once again. It stopped with a small, plaintive beep.

True to Perez’s prediction, the misbehaving bot was met by skepticism that quickly morphed into tired acceptance as the AI on guard duty examined it.

She waved it toward the building’s exit, triggering the doors open so that its small frame could slip through.

Katelyn felt Williams nudge her arm once more, but she needed no prompting. The moment the bot began to move, she did, too.

Fortunately for the team, the bot had only one speed, and that left them plenty of time to slip out the open exit before the little sweeper cleared the door’s frame.

Katelyn breathed much easier once they reached the street.

<Perez, you and Carly take point,> Williams instructed. <Chuck, you’re on Katelyn. I’ll bring up the rear. Let’s get as much distance between ourselves and this place before they discover we’re no longer enjoying their hospitality.>

* * * * *

The team traversed the city in waves, first Perez and Carly, and then Charlie and Katelyn. The pairs leapfrogged past each other while Williams brought up the rear. They managed a good dozen kilometers before the first sign of trouble.

Williams saw that Katelyn and Charlie had made it to a holographic kiosk promoting a newly opened planet-diving simulation at a nearby arcade, when Landon’s voice rang out over the combat net.

<Stop!> the AI shouted, but it was too late.

The avenue Perez and Carly were crossing had an invisible barrier erected, a peacekeeping roadblock common to most cities that could be deployed to catch escaped fugitives.

Katelyn heard Williams’ low <fuck!> as the lieutenant and private suddenly became visible, their shimmersuits compromised by a mist of nano taggers.

<They’ll be on us in minutes,> Landon warned.

Katelyn turned to Williams. <What do we do now?>

Even as he cursed their misfortune, Williams was gratified to see Perez’s quick response. The lieutenant snagged Carly's armor, directing her to cover the moment he realized what had transpired.

<Charlie! Kate! Arcade, now!> Williams barked.

Putting on a burst of speed, he caught up with them under a banner that declared, ‘Your next planet-diving adventure begins now!’ just in time to hear Charlie’s sardonic, <Planet-diving, hah. Get back to me when you’ve tried star-diving.>

Despite the urgency of the situation, he felt his lips twitch.

Yeah, star-diving. Not something I want to repeat anytime soon, even in a sim.

He must have thought it a bit louder than he intended, because Aaron followed it with a, <Your words to Ender’s ears,> that caused him to cough a short laugh.

<Is there a back door to this place?> Katelyn asked, bringing him back to the present.

<Good question,> he replied. <Chuck?>

<On it,> the corporal sent as he hustled toward the rear of the shop.

<If not, I'm sure our Marine contingent could make one,> Landon added.

<Ooo-rah,> Perez remarked.

<Perez, sitrep,> Williams ordered.

<Oh, you know, just hanging out, hiding from the Jovies behind a rack of Thalassa’s latest fashions. You?>

<We’re inside the arcade. Anyone get a good look at that barrier? How far does it extend?>

<Looks like it stretches across that intersection,> Aaron supplied. <Based on the spot Perez was tagged, I'd say it begins ten meters past the arcade. Not sure how deep the field is, though. No way to tell how far past the intersection it extends, either, though if it's standard-issue, it'll only be about a meter thick.>

Williams grunted. <Any way to get to Perez and Carly without being tagged ourselves?>

Landon was the one who replied. <No. And I’d guess we have about two minutes before the enemy is converging on this location. I have a suggestion, Colonel, if you're willing to entertain it.>

Williams turned toward Katelyn’s silhouette to address the AI. <Go on.>

Williams blinked. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected. <Can’t say that I have.>

The lieutenant colonel sifted through his military database, searching for the incident the AI mentioned, and found a paragraph on an internecine altercation at the end of a nanophage. It mentioned two brief battles—one to overthrow Galene’s corrupt government, the other to retake Voyager Spaceport.

The AI sent a predatory smile over the combat net. <The push to liberate the spaceport involved a bit of misdirection. Galene had a healthy amount of debris in orbit at that time, which they’d mapped and dismissed as harmless over a century earlier. We turned some of the larger pieces into homemade tacnukes right under their noses.>

Williams felt a shaft of surprise. <’We’,> he repeated. <You were there?>

The AI nodded. <Yes. I directed the attack. My idea, my plan.>

A low whistle sounded from Perez.

<Well, damn,> Aaron muttered. <You’re that Landon? I suppose your brother’s here, too?>

Williams’s attention sharpened at Aaron’s use of the word ‘brother’. He made a mental note to quiz his AI about it later.

<What are you suggesting?> he asked the other AI.

<That we do something similar,> Landon replied. <Carly and the lieutenant are in a drygoods shop. They need to lose those tagged shimmersuits. They grab some clothes, exit out the back, and blend in with the locals.>

<Kinda figured that part out already,> Perez sent.

<Yes, but you’re holding onto your tactical vests. Those need to go, too.>

<I’m not leaving here unarmed,> the lieutenant protested.

<What’s your weapons load? You really only need enough to set a few diversions, quickly get them looking in a different direction.>

<I’ve got three flashbangs and a few rattlecans that’ll rip into light armor,> Perez reported.

Landon brought up a map of the local area. <I’d suggest you place the flashbangs here, here, and here, and set them to remote detonate.> Icons appeared on the map as he spoke. <The rattlers could go here and here.>

<LC?> Perez asked.

Williams nodded. <Do it.>

<Do you have a suggestion for us, O Tactical Guru?> Katelyn asked.

<Something better than spray and pray, I hope,> Charlie muttered. <Found the back door, LC. I’m threading nano through it now so we have eyes on the alley.>

<Good.> Williams redirected his attention to Landon. <Answer the lady.>

The AI winked at Katelyn. he teased. <Now’s your chance. We grab the nearest JSF vehicle and get the hell out of here.>

<Wait. What?!> Aaron’s alarmed voice shouted at the same time Katelyn erupted in a burst of delighted laughter.

<Not the word I would use,> Aaron protested.

<Think about it,> she argued. <They’re not going to believe we’re ballsy enough to steal one of their own transports right out from under them.>

<They’ve obviously never met you,> Aaron retorted.

<Your call, Colonel. But whatever we do, we need to do it now,> Landon warned. <They’ll be on us soon.>

<Perez?> Williams called out.

The lieutenant sent a quick image of himself and Carly dressed in brightly-colored shirts, grenades in each hand and tucked inside pockets. <Say the word, and we’re gone.>

<Go.>

The icons representing the two Marines began to move out of the store. They split apart, their pace brisk but unhurried.

Williams nodded curtly. <Landon? Phase two of your plan had better work.>

<Charges one and three set,> Carly reported a few seconds later.

<Two, four, and five in place,> Perez followed up. <The JSF’s arrived. I’m being directed to move over a few blocks by a uniformed officer,> he reported.

From where Williams stood just inside the arcade’s entrance, he could see ships working their way toward them, dropping small fireteams of armed soldiers at each corner. The nearest team began methodically working their way down the side of the street the arcade was on, bursting through closed shop doors, and startling the patrons inside.

The action was repeated one block over. Each infiltration was marked by the screams and sharp exclamations of shopkeepers and customers alike.

He motioned toward the back. <Time to go,> he told Katelyn and Landon.

They ran quickly past the stanchions that queued the arcade’s paying customers. Just past the sim room, Charlie stood beside the exit, one hand on the door.

<Feed’s still showing the alleyway’s clear,> the corporal reported, his hand on the back door, monitoring the nano he’d threaded through its frame.

<Open it,> Williams ordered, and they slipped outside. <Landon? This is your show.>

<This way,> Landon sent, and they took off in the direction the AI indicated. <Now would be a good time to set off those charges, Colonel.>

<Perez, blow two and four,> Williams ordered.

The acknowledgment came by way of a loud crump! followed by a sizzling roar.

He urged Katelyn to pick up the pace with a hand at her back, and she broke into a jog.

<Over there,> Landon’s voice cut in. <There's a JSF transport parked behind that building. Can’t get a good read on who’s inside, but it’s a safe bet there aren’t many. Most of their assets are deployed, canvassing the area. We get close enough, we can slap a hackIt onto it, jam their signal, and take it.>

Charlie obligingly turned, and Katelyn followed. Williams jogged sideways, his rifle covering the alley they’d just left as he guarded their six. The passive sensor feed his enhancements provided was somewhat limited, but he didn’t dare release a nanocloud that could pinpoint their location.

He saw Perez and Carly closing fast just as he cleared the alley and spied the vehicle Landon had identified.

<Flank the transport; Perez and Carly on the left, Charlie and I will take the right,> Williams ordered. <On my mark. Perez, set off one and three, and then follow it fifteen seconds later with five.>

Between one step and the next, a group of JSF soldiers appeared around the side of a nearby building. One of them spied Perez and Carly, and shouted for them to stop.

<Lieutenant! Move it! Get behind that transport!> Williams barked.

Both vulnerable Marines began to run flat-out as Williams and Charlie provided covering fire. Katelyn joined in…something Williams wasn’t happy about.

The minute they opened fire, their own positions had been revealed.

Kate wasn’t a civilian, but she sure as stars wasn’t a Marine. There was no one else he’d rather have guarding his six—if she was sitting in a pilot’s cradle, and he was on a FROD drop. But her augments weren’t anything close to the enhancements the Marines of the 242nd had, and he’d rather she not die today.

<Evans, hold your fire,> he snapped.

<Not one of your Marines,> she shouted back.

<That’s my point!> he roared as beamfire narrowly missed her, and he shoved her to the ground.

Focus.

He released a stream of photons from his weapon, winging one of the soldiers. He took a quick, calming breath, his body instinctively responding to the firefight as he fought to rein in his temper.

He stole a quick glance at Katelyn as he released another short burst, causing the JSF soldier drawing a bead on her location to duck.

She was up on one knee, tucked behind a large, plascrete planter, her rifle poking through the leaves of the flowering foliage.

He tried again, reaching for a calm, reasonable tone he didn’t exactly feel. <Kate. No offense, but you don't have the enhancements we do. Let us do our jobs—dammit!>

That last was in response to the stream of fire she set off, her aim neatly holding one of the soldiers bearing down on them, but earning her a fusillade of fire in return.

In the midst of the chaos, a high-pitched sound reached them, increasing in intensity.

<Incoming!> Aaron shouted as a large, tactical blackout vehicle came screaming down on top of them.

The machine looked to be plated with shielding that could resist a small army’s worth of sustained weapons fire.

The vessel slewed to a stop, and its side doors slammed open to reveal a figure standing with legs braced wide, an anti-tank launcher on one shoulder.

Williams shoved Katelyn behind him as reflex registered the weapon in the person’s hand before his mind caught up with him.

The being looked familiar. Her identity registered on his HUD a moment before she let loose with a mortar round that sailed over their heads, and landed in the midst of the JSF soldiers.

Darla.

“Come with me if you want to live!” she called out, waving them forward.

“She did not just say that,” Katelyn muttered from behind Williams as she tried to twist out of his hold to peer around him.

“Darla?” Charlie gasped aloud.

The corporal was right; the AI who had brought them to Neptune was standing inside a JSF transport, armed to the teeth and dressed in…What in the five hells is she wearing, anyway?

Charlie’s words galvanized Williams, and he motioned to Perez. <Get your ass in gear. Or do you need my boot to give it an assist?>

<With respect, Colonel, you can keep those size sixteens to yourself,> Perez responded as he and Carly pounded the pavement, racing each other to the relative safety of Darla’s vehicle.

Beside him, Charlie and Katelyn were doing much the same.

Katelyn grumbled, <Well, hell. I’m not gonna get to hotwire this one either, am I?>

<If you're that dead set on hotwiring something,> Williams told her, <I’ll turn you loose in the Normandy's shuttle bay once we get off this stars-cursed planet. Just get a move on. We don't have all day.>

That earned him a sharp jerk of her head.

He was certain that, if he could see her face, she’d be glaring at him. Her next words confirmed it.

<That's Lieutenant Colonel Asshat to you, ma’am,> Aaron supplied with a grin.

Williams let out an audible sigh of exasperation, although deep inside, he felt something settle. Their verbal sparring felt like coming home.

* * * * *

Katelyn’s heart had stopped when the door slid open to reveal the weapon the woman held. She knew just by looking that the stranger was either seriously augmented, or an AI in a human frame. No one carried around that kind of ordnance on their shoulders. The kick alone would send its wielder flying.

<It's okay,> he said. <She's with us.>

<We think,> came Aaron’s low voice.

<That's reassuring,> she countered, lacing her voice with sarcasm.

<She was our ride to Neptune,> Charlie explained as he clambered inside.

Stars, that woman looks like she stepped out of some fashion sim, the type those expensive e-stores release to get the rich to part with some of their wealth.

The odd thought flashed though her brain as she raced past the AI into the armored transport.

She turned and saw Perez and Carly put on a burst of speed just as a fresh round of Jovians emerged from between buildings.

More beamfire erupted, and Katelyn leaned out to return fire. She felt a crackling sensation and smelled the sharp scent of ozone just as Williams yanked her inside, and an electron beam shot past her, narrowly missing her head.

The two Marines dove in headfirst just as the AI let loose with one more mortar round, the sound echoing with a roar in the confined space. The doors slammed shut behind them, nearly clipping Carly’s heels, and the vehicle started moving.

Clearly, the gun-toting AI was controlling the vehicle. Equally clearly, as acceleration sent her tumbling to the rear of the craft, this Darla, whoever she was, had disabled the vehicle’s speed governors.

She decided right then that she liked their rescuer. Anyone who would think to bypass something like that was speaking Katelyn’s language.

<You really are an adrenaline junkie, you know that?> Landon murmured to her privately.

She sent him a grin, not even trying to deny it.

The vessel shuddered as beamfire strafed it, but in the next second, Darla sent it rocketing into the sky.

<That's not quite the departure I’d been hoping for, but it’ll do,> Landon’s voice projected out into the vehicle. <Who are you, anyway?> he asked.

Darla turned to Katelyn with a smile. “You don’t know me, Landon, but I know you. Your reputation precedes you, as does that of your brother. By the way, Logan—and your other two Marines, Colonel—are waiting for us in our getaway car.”

“Getaway—?” Katelyn broke off, looking around her. “I thought this was our ride.”

“Pshaw,” Darla said, waving a hand in dismissal. “This old thing?”

Their rescuer winked, and Katelyn ripped off her shimmersuit’s hood so that she could glare at her properly. “I don’t know you,” she stated flatly. “Why should I trust you?”

The woman spread her hands. “You’re not dead, are you?”

“She has a point,” Carly said. With an expression of distaste, she pulled off the hat she wore and tossed it aside. “Sir, I feel seriously underdressed here,” she added, tugging at her brightly-colored shirt.

“Ah!” Darla said brightly, lifting a finger. “Excellent idea. Wardrobe changes all around! Rummage around in that locker behind you, and see what you can find. If I were you,” the woman spared a glance at Perez, “I’d lose that hideous floral shirt, fast. It does nothing for your figure.”

“It was supposed to help us blend in,” Perez shot back.

Darla shook her head at him sympathetically. “And you see how well that worked for you.”

The vehicle went careening around a high-rise. Carly flinched, but the AI didn’t even bother looking up.

Charlie already had his head buried in the locker, and was rummaging around inside. JSF uniforms began to fly through the air; one smacked Katelyn in the face.

She stared over at Williams, and arched a questioning brow at him, mutely asking if they could trust the crazy AI. He sent her a minute nod.

“Okay, Darla, I’ll bite,” Aaron’s voice came across the vehicle’s speakers. “How are we getting off Neptune?”

She chuckled, a wicked gleam entering her eyes. And then the AI actually rubbed her hands together in glee. “Why, on a Jovian munitions hauler, of course. Haven’t you heard? The TSF has launched a joint attack on Hyperion and Titan. Leona just ordered a special priority shipment of ordnance to restock their fleets. She’s even authorized the use of an antimatter-pion drive to get it there in time.”

Katelyn paused, one arm shoved into the JSF uniform Charlie had tossed at her. “How do you know all this?”

“Because Leona told me so herself, darling.”

Katelyn cursed her state of undress. It was the only thing that kept her from being the first to draw on Darla—or so she consoled herself.

In an instant Williams’ weapon was out and trained on the AI. His voice was pitched ominously low as it rumbled beside her.

“You want to run that by me one more time?”

COUNTERATTACK

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: TSS Normandy

REGION: Saturn, Jovian Combine

General Tobias, ancient hero of ancient wars—and of a few recent ones to boot—was beginning to wonder if victory against the Jovians would be possible under the current conditions.

The retreat into Saturn’s clouds had bought them time, as had the implied threat that the TSF forces might use the planet’s floating cities for cover, but he knew that the clock was running down. The JSF’s Seventh Fleet was on its way from Ganymede, and when it arrived, there wouldn’t be any tricks or gambits he could run to stave them off.

The odds would be a thousand to one, and a swift exit to regroup was the only wise option.

The only option, period. Wise or not.

“How’re we looking?” Harm asked from the far side of the holotank.

“Y’can see as well as I,” Tobias replied, gesturing at the display. “They have Titan, lad, and we wilnae win it back. The Dione fleet is regrouping, barely slowed from us smashin’ through their ranks. We need t’ face facts; ‘tis only a matter of time till th’ bastards come fer us.”

“The Seventh is still six days away,” Harm replied. “We can hold off the local forces until then.”

“And what’ll ye hae our play be, then?” Tobias asked. “If your better half cannae fire up Hyperion, we best cut our losses now and leave while we still hae ships to fly in.”

Harm crossed his arms, steel grey eyes boring into Tobias’s. “She’ll get it working, we—”

<Hey, folks,> Cassie’s voice came through the command net. <We have a problem.>

<Did you take the WCC?> Harm added.

She proceeded to explain the situation, and shared her suspicion that Soleil may hold the key to it.

<Seems a wee stretch,> Tobias said. <What if she does nae have what we need?>

<Bluffing’s an option,> Harm suggested. <If we have her and the WCC, anyone who digs into the history nodes is going to figure out what we’re up to.>

<Hate to break it to you,> Olivia spoke up, <But I think they already have.>

She flagged fleet movement from Rhea on the command net. Close to ninety ships had formed up around the moon, most destroyers and corvettes, but a few cruisers anchored the group.

<Well, that was sooner than we expected,> Harm muttered. <They’re headed straight for Hyperion.>

<Captain,> Tobias squared his shoulders. <Full burn. We cannae let the bastards beat us there.>

<Aye,> Olivia replied.

The deck surged beneath them as the carrier shifted vector, its massive engines firing toward Saturn’s core, pushing aside clouds for hundreds of kilometers.

Harm clenched his teeth. <Careful…we don’t want to ignite the atmosphere.>

<It’ll just burn a wee mite,> Tobias replied. <Ye remember the third Saturnian Offensive from th’ Second War.>

Harm replied. <Even hydrogen that diffuse can fuse with a big enough shockwave.>

<An’ it burns isself out soon enou’.>

Tobias glanced at the captain. <Och, but lass, ofttimes it feels like it was.>

<Can we get back on the topic at hand?> Cassie asked. <Light lag is too much for me to chime in easily.>

Tobias shook his head.

<I’ll take that as a yes,> the version of Harm reaching out from Hyperion said. <I’ll relay a message out there. They should have a few options for getting out.>

<What about the Iwo Jima?> Captain Olivia asked as the deck began to shudder, the mighty ship already plowing through frozen gas clouds faster than the speed of sound.

<Nae, lass,> Tobias replied. <The Joveys may still think we plan to hit both planets. We cannae tip them off just yet that Saturn is our only goal.>

“You know…” Harm said aloud. “Getting Soleil here opens up some interesting options.”

Tobias’s brows rose as he regarded the MICI agent. “You’re considering setting up a second Combine.”

“Same Combine, new leader. We could out Alden’s Kronos disease, expose how he imprisoned his own daughter, the works. Then set her up as a new leader. Bring Jove back into the fold.”

Tobias couldn’t help but laugh. “Lofty goals, Harm, especially considerin’ ye had this notion already seepin into your cranium.”

“Did I?”

“Dinnae give me tha’ nonsense. I know a bullshitter when I see one.”

Harm only winked, and Tobias turned his attention back to the problem at hand: continually being outnumbered by the Jovians.

It was a struggle not to think about the fact that the Terran leadership had put them in this situation by refusing to fully commit. He didn’t know why anything else had been expected. The politicians on High Terra had always been hesitant to take risks; time and time again, they left the people fighting for their safety hamstrung in the field, while the largest fleets orbited humanity’s homeworld.

Why change now.

Either way, Tobias knew that a policy shift at Terra wouldn’t help the situation they were in.

The destroyer group he’d dispatched to Iapetus had only lost four ships defeating the fleet there. Though the Jovians still held that moon, he sent orders for his ships to rejoin the Normandy and its escort at Hyperion. No matter what happened with the secret weapon and Soleil, the battle to retake Saturn would be decided at one of the least noteworthy of its remaining moons.

By some miracle, the seven destroyers that accompanied the Normandy were still operational—though they would need a new coat of paint. The nimble ships breached Saturn’s upper clouds first, boosting straight into an enemy drone swarm.

Point defense beams lanced out in a hundred directions as the ships staved off the attack. The carrier was only a few seconds behind the vanguard, and the moment its nose cleared the thickest of the ice clouds, ten thousand drones poured from its bow.

He formed them into four wings, each shaped like a three-dimensional diamond, and drove them through the Jovian swarm, letting each of the bots acquire and fire on its own target while he kept his eye on the overall formation.

<Deploy a second swarm,> he ordered Mags. <Cover our rear while I take the fore.>

Over the past five years, Tobias had spent a lot of time teaching Mags how to control vast swarms containing far more drones than she had ever thought possible. At this point, the ship’s AI could handle the majority of the carrier’s drone combat on her own, and he would normally allow her to do so—were winning this engagement not so crucial.

Under the Jovian onslaught, one of the destroyer escorts finally gave up the ghost, its engines dying, and the ship listing as the winds at the top of Saturn’s atmosphere began to take hold of the craft.

The ship’s captain had already given orders for the crew to abandon the vessel, and Olivia shifted the Normandy closer, a dozen bays open to receive the escape craft pouring off the other ship.

Then they were in the black. The last wisps of Saturn’s air blasted away in a wide plume as the carrier’s engines increased thrust, driving them directly toward Hyperion.

The general wondered if it was wise to make a beeline for their target, but with the Rhea fleet also boosting toward the weaponized moon, there was no reason to delay.

He and Mags swept away the remaining Jovian drones, as well as a smattering of missiles launched from the nearby floating cities. It was a waste of weaponry, as far as he was concerned. The enemy had to realize at this point that only overwhelming force could defeat the Normandy.

If the Jovians stopped worrying that there might be some sort of trick up his sleeve, and shifted all their assets to directly assault the carrier group, the Terrans would lose—but that would mean leaving all of Saturn’s moons and cities exposed.

And the enemy wasn’t quite confident enough to try such a move.

Good thing, too. Because I sure as hell have a few sleights of hand in play.

“Contacts in the clouds!” Scan called out, and Tobias shifted his attention from the route ahead to the world they’d left behind.

Sure enough, dozens of energy signatures were appearing in Saturn’s depths, engines driving a fleet out into the black to confront the Normandy.

“OK…this I didn’t expect,” Olivia said. “What are we looking at? A hundred destroyers? Cruisers? Have they been there all along?”

“I’ve long been curious whether the Jovians hid fleets inside their worlds,” Harm mused. “I guess now we know.”

“They’re seconds from firing range,” Olivia warned. “We won’t be able to outrun them.”

“ ’Tis nae an issue,” Tobias replied. “I was expectin’ this.”

He sent a command back to the thousand drones he’d left in the clouds, each one armed with a forty-megaton nuclear warhead. They split up and raced toward the Jovian ships, the first nukes detonating only a few seconds after his pronouncement.

“Sweet fucking stars above,” Olivia whispered. “That’ll do it. Why didn’t you say you’d deployed that type of weaponry?”

The general shrugged. “It’s in th’ logs. I did nae hide it.”

“And there goes the atmosphere.” Harm shook his head and pulled up an optical view of Saturn as secondary fusion reactions went off in clouds already pressurized and heated from the Normandy’s passage.

“They’ll burn out,” Tobias replied. “The vapors are too thin so far up.”

“The feeds are what’re burning up,” Harm groused. “It’s gonna take a lot to deal with this fallout.”

“Boys,” Olivia gestured at the main display. “Twelve cruisers made it. Can we focus on those?”

Tobias shook his head, amused the captain had taken to scolding him and Harm. Not that he blamed her; the MICI agent seemed to bring out a combative side of him.

Well, a more combative side.

He deployed another hundred thousand drones, splitting them between himself and Mags, driving a half-dozen swarms toward the Jovian cruisers.

“Gotta say…” Harm wore a broad smile as he spoke. “I bet the Jovians are wishing they’d invested more in carriers than cruisers at this point.”

“Well, the tossers’ve nae had Weapon Born on their side,” the general replied, then shifted to a private Link connection. <Speakin’ o’ which, would you like to try your hand at controlling a swarm? Despite your unusual provenance, you’re Weapon Born too. We’re always ready to welcome a new brother…or sister, into our ranks.>

<Don’t go getting too free with that information,> Harm said. <The less people know who I was back during the wars, the better.>

<Aye, I know ye like to hide who ye were, but be that as it may, you dinnae tap what yer mind can do. Too much, ye limit yourself to organic thoughts.>

Harm’s expression darkened.

<Accustomed to making it behave as though it be organic,> Tobias countered as he swept one of his drone swarms across a Jovian cruiser, pinpointing the ship’s forward weapons, then lancing beams into its engines.

He was losing more drones than he’d like, but they had more than enough to keep the carrier safe till they reached Hyperion. Once there…well, they’d just have to trust that the Jovians wouldn’t want to find out if the weapon was operational.

<What are you suggesting,> Harm replied after a pause. <That I can do more? That I’ve stifled myself?>

<Quite astute o’ ye to say tha', lad. Yes. Exactly. Take a swarm.> He passed control of a thousand-drone swarm to the MICI agent. <Scoot them around to the starboard flank.>

Harm gave him a measuring look. <From what you’ve heard?>

Tobias watched Harm reach a dozen, then another five, but then the other AI’s control slipped on the first batch.

To his credit, Harm tried again and again until he was simultaneously guiding a hundred drones. Then he continued expanding his mind until the nascent Weapon Born’s thoughts encompassed them all.

<This seems inefficient, Tobias,> he said after carefully shifting the drones to a new vector, then back.

<Aye, it certainly is, but this is just an exercise. Once you can take the helm o’ all those movin’ bits, y’can pick an’ choose when to do it. Do you feel how your mind can focus on those disparate threads? Wit’ practice, it’ll become second nature to ye.>

Harm replied, a note of intense concentration in his mental tone. <Should I attack that cruiser there?>

The MICI agent highlighted an enemy ship, and Tobias nodded.

<Aye, I herded that ‘un away from the pack for ye. Have at it, lad.>

Tobias kept a thread of thought on the neophyte while controlling his own swarms, diving amongst the remaining cruisers, and wearing down their weapons systems. Through raw, brute strength, they managed to force the Jovian ships to remain below the Cassini Division that separated Saturn’s B and A rings, while the Normandy and its remaining destroyers slipped above.

Though the A ring was only ten meters thick, the particulate ice and rock was enough to refract beamfire directed at the Terran ships, while the drones could continue to harry the enemy below the ring.

It would be no issue for the Jovian ships to simply fly up through the ring, but disturbing Saturn’s primary rings had been illegal for millennia, and the compunction not to be the ones to mess them up was strong on both sides of the conflict.

Before long, the trio of AIs had disabled all but one enemy vessel each, the other JSF cruisers rendered little more than drifting hulls venting atmosphere and life pods.

Despite winning each engagement assigned to him, Harm had lost three quarters of his swarm, and was losing control of his final cruiser. The Normandy was approaching the Encke Gap in the A ring, and the Jovian ship shifted vector, boosting for the gap and a clear shot at the TSF carrier.

Tobias said. <Mags, how’re ye lookin’, lass?>

<Shit!> the MICI agent swore as the JSF cruiser blasted through the remaining drones he had in play, and passed into the ring gap.

The Normandy’s destroyer escort pulled ahead, lancing beamfire into the gap while Captain Olivia reoriented the carrier to direct its main railguns at the approaching enemy.

The instant the TSF forces were committed to the maneuver, the other pair of cruisers did the unthinkable. Shifting almost ninety degrees, they boosted through the ring, then spun and fired a rail barrage of grapeshot at the Normandy.

Tobias and Mags flung as many drones into the breach as they could manage, but it wasn’t enough. Tens of thousands of pellets smashed through the carrier’s shielding and peppered the hull, holing the ship in hundreds of places.

Mags spun the ship’s rear cannons, and unleashed hell on the two cruisers, returning the favor and disabling both ships in a matter of minutes. To the fore, the last cruiser was disabled by the destroyers, and the Normandy passed over the Encke Gap and then beyond the A ring, no longer pursued by Jovian forces.

<I’m sorry,> Harm whispered.

<Can happen to the best of us, boyo.> The general turned to Olivia. “How’re we farin’?”

“Like a bucket of Ganymede cheese.” The captain grimaced. “Don’t worry, though, the Normandy can take more than a little rail barrage and keep on ticking. Most of the hits just blew away ablative plating. I’m more worried about munitions—and that Jovian fleet on the way to Hyperion. We lost too much time in this engagement, and there’s no way we can beat them there.”

Harm pursed his lips. “I guess it’s time for Cassie to prepare her surprise.”

CHUTING THE RAPIDS

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Armored Vessel, headed for Thalassan Chutes

REGION: Thalassa, Neptune, Jovian Combine

Darla planted her hands on her hips, and favored Williams with an arch look. “Really, Colonel. You think I’d go to all this trouble to get you and your team out of the Jovians’ grasp, just to turn you over to Leona?” She topped off the chiding with a small shake of her head.

Williams set his jaw and felt one eyelid twitch in anger as he tried to bore a hole into the AI with his gaze alone. After he was certain she read his intent clearly, he repeated his demand.

“You have ten seconds to start talking before I ram beamfire down your throat.”

Darla actually rolled her eyes at him, the act startling him with its unexpectedness. “Tanis mentioned how muleheaded you were,” she muttered.

He snapped his rifle up so that its barrel pointed at the transport’s roof. “Muleheaded or not, invoking her name isn’t going to get you out of answering the question.”

The AI glanced over at him in annoyance. “Fine. For your information, I’m carrying on a running conversation with Leona right now, posing as one of the JSF’s intelligence AIs from Spectre.” She smirked. “If that bitch had any idea who she was talking to, she’d need a fresh change of clothes. And believe me, with her fashion sense, that’s saying something.”

“MICI?” Williams guessed, and Darla gave him a ‘get real’ look.

“You know I can’t tell you something like that,” she said glibly. “Now, let’s discuss how we’re going to get you back into the loving arms of your TSF, shall we?”

“She didn’t really just say ‘loving arms of—’”

Charlie cut off with an oof, likely after his midsection met Perez’s elbow.

“Yes, let’s,” Katelyn said sweetly, an insincere smile on her face as she stepped up beside Williams.

The simmering sarcasm in her tone either went unnoticed by Darla, or the AI chose to ignore it.

“We’ll be coming up on the chute in about five minutes,” she told them. “At that point, you all need to be ready to eject on my signal. I have a ship waiting in an adjacent chute, ready to send you back up to orbit to rendezvous with a JSF munitions hauler that’s primed to boost to Saturn to bring ‘much needed ordnance to the war effort’,” she air-quoted.

“Eject?” Perez asked, moving forward to join the conversation.

“Yes. You’re all FRODs.” Her eyes narrowed on Katelyn. “Well, almost all of you. But I’m sure the colonel here won’t let anything happen to Miss Evans and her companion, am I right, Billy Boy?” She gave a saucy wink.

Williams found himself grinding his teeth and taking slow, deep breaths in order to maintain control over his temper. It didn’t help much that the AI inside his head was snickering long and loud.

<Oh, that’s right, ma’am. Billy Boy here will take real good care of Katelyn. I guarantee it.>

“Four minutes, thirty,” Darla warned.

That galvanized him into action.

“We need—”

“Powered armor, yes. I know.”

The AI tilted her head toward the back of the craft, and a concealed compartment in the aft of the transport opened up behind Charlie. There, gleaming in the vessel’s low light, were racks of armor.

“Suit up!” Williams called out, and the team scrambled to obey.

Exactly three minutes later, they were standing in front of the open side door, the chute’s dark maw looming large before them.

“Thirty seconds,” Darla informed them. “Mark!”

The AI grabbed Williams’s arm in an unbreakable grip, and passcodes to a JSF fast-attack vessel appeared on his HUD, complete with a detailed map of the burn they needed to make in order to land on the vessel’s hull.

<Got it,> Aaron told him.

At the thirty-second mark, they launched. In the full spherical view provided by the powered armor he wore, Williams saw that Darla had exited the craft alongside them.

The sides of the chute passed by with dizzying speed, the dun-and-grey composite swirling in the background as he focused intently on his HUD’s readouts. Landon had all of the suits slaved to his controls, and he executed the burn with exacting precision. In concert, all five armored figures angled sharply into a branching chute, thrusters firing in sequence.

The adjacent chute was wider, and it had launch pads poking out from its sides at sporadic increments. It was one of these that Landon pointed them at.

A large, sleek ship grew rapidly in his forward feed, and he automatically bent his knees to absorb the force of the landing. He sent the reminder to Landon, and felt the AI rapidly sharing those same instructions with Katelyn. He saw her brief nod mere seconds before the hull rose up to meet him, and his booted feet hit the ship’s outer surface with a reverberating clang he swore he could feel all the way to his skull.

The five thumps that vibrated through the soles of his armored feet would have told him everyone had landed safely even if he hadn’t kept a visual lock on them the entire drop.

<Over here,> Darla sent, and he saw that she’d landed closest to a nearby hatch.

That suggested she had either the skills to maneuver in a drop of this complexity, or an intimate knowledge of this ship—or both.

<Keep your boots mag-locked to the ship’s surface,> she reminded them.

Williams realized her voice was coming through over the team’s combat net, despite the fact that she hadn’t been invited to join it. He dismissed the thought for the moment, but made a mental note to follow up on it very soon.

The chute’s narrow passage, combined with the transition from Thalassa’s atmospheric pressure to that of Neptune’s surface, created a wind-tunnel-like bernoulli effect. The atmosphere wailed and moaned like a banshee as it sped past the launchpad the ship rested upon.

It took the maximum amount of control authority the suits’ servos provided to work against the wind and make it over to where Darla stood awaiting them. Williams knew none of the Marines under his command were stupid enough not to keep their feet securely planted under these conditions—not even Perez.

Knowing Katelyn wasn’t FROD-trained, he locked the palm of his left glove to the back of her armor to ensure she didn’t go flying off. Maneuvering the few meters upstream to get to the hatch took longer than he was sure a civilian like Katelyn would expect, but she didn’t complain.

They tumbled into the airlock, and when Darla cycled it shut, the silence of the ship’s interior was a stark contrast to the environment outside. Movement behind Perez showed that someone, or something, was cycling the internal hatch.

Williams hadn’t forgotten for an instant that this was a JSF vessel. Given this, plus the unknown that Darla presented, his reaction was automatic.

With a thought and a downward gesture of his hand, an E-SCAR rifle popped up from his forearm. A second later, his hand was up, and the weapon aimed at the humanoid figure that appeared in the airlock’s entrance, but he held his fire when the person appeared unarmed.

Katelyn’s voice reached his suit’s audio pickups, and he realized with some annoyance that she’d stripped her helmet off.

He moved to shield her, in case the AI at the hatch—and he was certain it was an AI, based on the frame—tried for a head shot.

<Katelyn,> he barked. <Helmet!>

“Looks like Sergeant Asshat’s back,” was her acerbic retort. “You can stand down, he’s with us.”

“That’s Colonel Asshat, Miss Evans,” a familiar voice called out from behind the ebony-hued figure.

Williams growled a warning, and Pita subsided, although he could have sworn the suit’s augmented audio feed picked up a quiet snicker.

The AI before him just stood there, face impassive. And then he lifted a single brow, as if to say, ‘Bring it on, asshole.’

“Logan.” Katelyn’s voice was tinged with an affectionate exasperation, apparently aimed at the creature standing before him.

She tried to duck beneath Williams’s gun arm so that she could see the AI, but Williams placed his free palm over her face and pushed her back behind him.

“Seriously,” she muttered, her voice muffled by his hand. “Asshat One, meet Asshat Two.”

Behind him, Perez erupted in a coughing fit. By the sound of it, the lieutenant had also removed his helmet.

<Has everyone in this unit forgotten protocol?> Williams demanded. <Helmet, Lieutenant. Now!>

“Uh, yessir, but trust me, LC,” Perez gave an almost nervous laugh. “He is with us. And you don’t want to know what he’d do to you if he thought you were an enemy.”

A laugh sounded behind the ebony-clad AI, and Williams heard Alma’s voice.

“Everything okay in there, LT?” she asked. You sound a bit high-strung.”

The strange emphasis on those last two words caused Williams’s brow to furrow.

He glanced over at Perez. He’d been correct; the lieutenant had indeed shed his helmet. It allowed him to see the man’s face redden at Alma’s taunt.

<Let's just say Logan got the drop on Perez when they arrived at the safehouse,> Katelyn murmured to him privately.

Williams dropped his chin and lifted a questioning brow at Perez, who shifted uneasily and glanced away.

<Ah, Colonel, as you may have guessed by now, this is my brother, Logan,> Landon sent, and Williams swung his gaze back to the hatch. <Logan, this is Lieutenant Colonel Williams. Now, can we please get out of this airlock, or are you two going to stand there all day, measuring your dicks?>

Logan was the first to break the staredown, his attention moving to a spot just beyond Williams’s left shoulder, where Katelyn stood. “Frame’s extra-large.”

The strangled sound that came from Katelyn had Williams’s lips twitching.

She replied in a scandalized tone, “I did not need to know that, Logan. Really.”

<Always the one to make the dramatic entrance, eh, brother?> Landon smirked.

Williams’s gaze narrowed on the AI’s blacker-than-night face. Reluctantly, he lowered his arm and sheathed his weapon. Stepping forward, he purposely crowded Logan as he shouldered past him.

The entire situation, including Katelyn’s easy familiarity with the AI, annoyed him.

He spied both Alma and Pita in the passageway beyond. Both Marines had smirks plastered on their faces. Pita’s arms were crossed, her eyes dancing with amusement as she watched the byplay.

“Corporal,” Williams snapped.

Pita straightened, bracing to attention. “Sir, Colonel, sir. Let me show you all to the armory, so you can get out of those suits.”

Everyone moved to follow her, except Katelyn. When Williams saw her pause beside Logan, he opted to stay as well.

<Feeling a bit jealous, are we?> Aaron jibed him privately.

He chose to ignore the AI, unwilling to admit why he didn’t want to leave her alone with Logan.

Feeling the need to reassert some semblance of order to the situation, Williams leveled a stare at Darla. “Okay, you’ve gotten us this far. What’s your grand plan to get us off this ice ball?”

Darla’s eyes took on a mischievous light. “I’m carrying on a conversation with our mutual friend as we speak. You know, the defense minister? I just informed her that a bunch of TSF Marines overpowered me and took my ship. I’ve confirmed that Soleil is on board, as are Katelyn and her friend.”

Katelyn’s head jerked up suddenly. “Soleil. Where is she?” she demanded. “Stars, how could I have forgotten about her! She’s OK?”

Darla began walking down the passageway, Logan by her side. When Katelyn moved to follow, Williams fell into step beside her.

“So, the Jovians are chasing an empty ship,” the lieutenant colonel deduced.

Darla nodded. “That about sums it up. Well, that, and I might have also let it leak to Admiral Rialto that wanted criminals are on board.”

A slight smile chased her lips. “It’d be a real shame if some arrogant, incompetent fool without even the good sense God gave a gnat took a potshot at that vessel in an attempt to curry favor. It’d be even worse if she destroyed it before Leona had a chance to reacquire those inside.” She arched an eyebrow at Williams, mirth dancing in her eyes.

Williams rubbed his chin, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Whoever you are, you’re certainly devious enough to be with Division 99. So, you’re one of Harm’s people?”

Darla was shaking her head even before he concluded his statement. “Working with him, yes. One of his people? Afraid you’re thinking too small,” she said obliquely, but refused to elaborate.

She led them to the bridge, where a holographic display showed the nearspace that encompassed Neptune, its rings, Triton, and the battle group that orbited Psamathe Station.

Darla gestured at the display, highlighting a small, fast-moving craft just breaking out of Neptune’s upper atmosphere.

“That transport is mainly used for atmo, but it can handle light space duty, too,” she commented. “At least, enough to get a person to Triton and back.” She glanced at Williams. “Of course, Leona knows that. As does Rialto.”

Darla waved again, and suddenly, they were listening in on the JSF’s battle frequencies.

“This just came in from Leona,” she told them, “an all-points bulletin with that vessel’s transporter signature. The order did not include any information on the transport’s occupants. But thanks to what Rialto believes is insider information, she knows there are six Marines and two spies inside.”

Williams knew from Perez’s report that the oligarch’s daughter had been with Katelyn when the lieutenant’s small team breached the safehouse.

“Just us six, with no mention of Soleil?” he asked sharply, and Darla confirmed with a nod.

“Rialto might hesitate to shoot the oligarch’s daughter, but she’s just enough of a glory hound to want to take the credit for eliminating six enemies of the state,” she said with a smug little laugh. “Small-minded people like her tend to be easily manipulated.”

As they watched, a small complement of JSF fighters erupted from one of the destroyers, the tag on the ship indicating it was the Everglades.

“Rialto’s ship,” Darla supplied.

She made another gesture at the display, and the little NSAI-piloted transport vehicle began to jink in irregular patterns. The fighters engaged, the battle surprisingly prolonged. In the end, though, the armored vessel that had brought them to the chutes was no match for three Jovian fighters. The small craft disintegrated with a small flash of blinding light.

Williams regarded Darla thoughtfully. “You certainly made them work for that,” he observed.

She gave an elegant shrug. “It’s always been my belief that if you’re going to do something, there’s no excuse for not doing it to the nines.”

She nodded to the screen, “Besides, that leaves no doubt in their minds that, although they had the superior vessels and the only firepower in that engagement, that ship was crewed by a group of experienced Marines.” She turned to Katelyn and added with a smile, “and a pretty badass pilot from the Disk.”

Williams grunted. He couldn’t fault her for that logic.

Before he could ask, she supplied them with her strategy for getting them off Neptune.

“We’ll wait until things have died down before leaving. It shouldn’t be a problem. This ship is a known supplier of munitions, and its manifest has it rendezvousing with a munitions hauler that’s about to receive an order to launch for Saturn using its antimatter-pion drive.”

A low whistle sounded behind Williams as Perez and the rest of the team entered the bridge.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” the lieutenant commented. “Haven’t been on a ship that boosted that fast in a long time.”

“It works in our favor, since we need to get Soleil to the Normandy yesterday.”

“Why? What’s so important about Soleil?” Charlie asked.

Darla shook her head. “Need-to-know, I’m afraid. But if it makes you feel any better, the order came from your Brigadier General Ender, directly from General Tobias.”

A private connection request sprang up on Williams’s HUD.

<For your ears only,> Darla sent. <Soleil’s DNA is needed to unlock the weapon that will be the decisive factor in this battle for Saturn. We need her there, unharmed, cooperative, and in one piece. She’s to be guarded above all others.>

<Understood.> Williams nodded curtly.

He reached for Katelyn’s gauntleted arm, and gave it a tug. “Come on, let’s get out of this armor.”

He winced when he heard the gruffness in his own voice, but then gave a mental shrug.

Woman’s gonna have to accept this Marine as he is, warts and all. If anything’s going to come of this, best she figures that out straightaway.

Katelyn’s gaze swept the bridge, eyes bouncing between the two AIs before shooting him a sidelong glance. With a silent nod, she turned and headed for the exit.

He stole a quick glance at Logan before following in her wake.

He couldn’t imagine the AI had smoother moves than him, but he and Katelyn hadn’t seen each other in five years…Perhaps her tastes had changed.

He knew his hadn’t. Even in powered armor, the woman strode down the passageway with a smooth sensuality that pushed all the right buttons.

* * * * *

For the first time in three days, Katelyn felt like she could take a breather. The relief she felt having escaped out from under the Jovians’ thumb was palpable.

A small laugh bubbled up and threatened to escape.

Careful, there, she counseled herself. We’re not out of the woods yet.

<Your emotions feel almost giddy.> Landon’s voice cut into her ruminations. <That’s a new one.>

This time, she did laugh. she admitted. <We did it! We got onto Neptune, got ourselves captured, freed Soleil, and then escaped. Booyah!>

<And don’t forget, broke back in to spring a small passel of Marines—who, I might add, were there to rescue us. By the way, one of those Marines seems to have fixated on your ass. He’s staring at it intently as we speak.> He chuckled.

<He—What? Really?> Katelyn began to turn her head, and Landon sent her a mental jab.

<Stars, woman, don’t look! Just shake it a bit more,> the AI suggested. <That is what you want, isn’t it? If I’m reading your body chemistry correctly….>

Katelyn bit her lip to hide the small grin that threatened to break free. <Maaaaaybe.>

She loosened her stride, letting her hips sway a bit. She heard a small growl—or was it a groan?—come from behind her, and she ducked her head, smirking in satisfaction.

Is this what I want?

She took a moment to ponder her attraction to the big, gruff Marine. Then she took into account that he’d taken a considerable amount of grief from his teammates on her behalf. As her ma used to always say, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire’. So maybe Williams still had a thing for her, too.

She heard the rest of the Marines gather in a room farther down the passageway, and realized the armory would be empty save for her and Williams.

<So, how easy would it be for you to lock the armory door once we’re inside?> she asked Landon.

The AI winked at her. <On it, girlfriend. Oh, and don’t worry about me. Logan and I have some catching up to do.>

Katelyn tossed Landon’s avatar a quick kiss across their connection and sashayed into the armory as best she could in powered armor, her heart light. As soon as the door slid shut behind Williams, she turned around.

“Help a girl out, Colonel?” She looked at him from under lowered eyelashes.

Williams strode purposely toward her, his pace so fast, she found herself backing up on instinct.

Her back bumped the far wall, and Williams’s hands shot out to steady her. She felt him guide her, and heard a hiss and a click. She realized he’d backed her straight into an open rack.

<Hang on,> Landon told her, <I’ll trigger the suit for you.>

Her armored chest cracked open, as did the shells encasing her legs. She looked up to see Williams had backed into his own rack, hands working fast to help extricate himself.

She stepped out of her boots, recalling the feeling of her armored feet touching down on the hull of the ship.

Rounding on Williams, she flung her arms out. “That drop was such a rush! Do you do that all the time? Maybe I missed my calling and should’ve been a Marine.”

Williams closed his eyes as if her declaration pained him. “I think you tempt fate enough from the pilot’s seat,” he told her as he began stalking her once more. “You think you need more excitement in your life, do you?”

His eyes glittered darkly, and Katelyn felt a frisson of anticipation as he drew near.

“Maybe,” she said, lifting one brow and tilting her head back to stare up at him.

“That AI out there not doing it for you?”

Confusion clouded Katelyn’s mind for one brief second.

Well, stars shitting plasma. Does he think—

Her mind stuttered to a stop, and she felt the almost overwhelming urge to laugh, but knew that would not be the right thing to do at this moment.

He’s jealous of Logan!

A wicked thought crossed her mind.

“Well, I don’t know,” she tapped her finger against her lower lip thoughtfully. “I haven’t really thought of Logan that way. In order to answer that honestly, I suppose I’ll have to compare. Wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“No,” he growled and yanked her into his arms. “I don’t share.”

Their faces were centimeters apart.

“Good,” she whispered. “Neither do I.”

* * * * *

A few hours later, an insistent pounding on the armory door was accompanied by a priority override from Darla.

<Rise and shine,> she chirped cheerfully.

<Darla…> Williams threatened in the tone guaranteed to cause a grown Marine to quail in his boots. <Your point?>

<We’ve docked. Everyone’s at the hatch, waiting on you two so we can board. Heads held high now, as you do the walk of shame!>

<What the fuck does that even mean?> he muttered, but rolled up off the deck and lowered his hand to help Katelyn to her feet.

Guilt speared through him at the grimace she made while she worked out the kinks.

They quickly slipped back into their base layers, his gaze appreciatively taking in the view. He couldn’t help but reach for her as they strode toward the door a moment later.

He hauled her against him for one last kiss as he palmed the door open—and then groaned when he came face to grinning face with Perez.

“Team’s assembled, LC. Glad you could, ah,” he coughed, “join us.”

“You like being a lieutenant, Lieutenant?” he barked, glowering at the man.

Perez snapped to attention and dropped the knowing grin. “Sir, yes, sir!”

“Start acting like one, then.”

They reached the hatch, and Williams’s glare swept those inside, daring them to say anything.

Wisely, they all found ways to appear busy—all except Darla, who gave him a knowing smirk.

“Gentlebeings, welcome to the Jovian Space Force’s Sabot, one of their fast-delivery munitions ships,” she introduced as she exited out into a narrow and darkly-lit shuttle bay. “I need to report in with Leona and Admiral Rialto, but feel free to wander around and check her out. She’s staffed entirely by NSAIs under my control, so there’s no worry about being found out.”

“Yeahhh, right,” Williams heard Katelyn say under her breath. “We’re on a Jovian ship, in Jovian space, set to deliver Jovian arms to a Jovian fleet. What could possibly go wrong?”

DUPED BY A DECOY

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Approaching the JSS Invictus

REGION: Psamathe Station, Neptune, Jovian Combine

“She did what?” Leona seethed, rounding on Allie as best she could.

It wasn’t much, considering the AI was currently piloting the runabout as if she were a contender for the Marsian Rally, and the Invictus was its finish line. The acceleration the AI was pushing made it difficult for her to turn her head from where the co-pilot’s seat cradled it.

<Switch to the Link; it’ll be easier on your lungs,> her aide advised.

<I’m perfectly well aware of what fifty gs will do to my lungs, thanks,> Leona snapped. <Tell me again what that brainless twit did? Stars, I curse the day Naval Operations had the poor judgment to put her in charge of the Fourth Fleet!>

<She shot those TSF Marines—and Soleil—right out of the black,> Allie replied tersely.

<Faaaaaawk!> Leona knew her roar of mental fury was practically incoherent, but it felt good to let loose and rage about the bumbling fool. <If this doesn't tip Alden into complete, irrevocable madness, I don't know what will. That imbecile!>

With one stroke, Rialto had just consigned the Combine to years of infighting between the lesser oligarchs.

<No one will accept Frans as oligarch without a challenge,> Allie agreed. <It’s going to make our power play to take over Sol just that much more difficult.>

<I’ll kill her,> Leona fumed. <I’ll take great pleasure in ripping an arm off and beating her to death with it.>

<Sounds messy, if you ask me.> Allie’s voice held a hint of mordant humor.

Leona did her best to take in a calming breath as the AI flipped the vessel and began an equally-rapid decel.

<Okay. Okay, maybe we can hide this from Alden,> she reasoned. <It’s not like he’s seen her in the past few years, anyway…not since she was incarcerated.>

Amusement filtered through from her aide. <Exactly how many advanced degrees has Soleil ‘decided to pursue’ so far? Two? Three?>

<Hell’s bells,> Leona muttered. <Make it seventeen for all I care, just as long as it keeps Alden’s fragile mind from fracturing any further.>

Allie stiffened suddenly, straightening in her pilot’s seat. <Ah, ma’am? I think we have a more pressing problem.>

<What else could possibly go wrong? Has the Iwo Jima begun a churn-and-burn for Neptune?> Leona asked half-sarcastically.

<No, ma’am. Not the Iwo Jima. And not Neptune.> Allie met her superior’s eyes, her own a steady grey. <It’s the Normandy. It’s just attacked Titan.>

EXPANSE

STELLAR DATE: 04.20.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: JSS Invictus

REGION: Neptune, Jovian Combine

Allie copied the latest security update Leona had received, and carefully packaged it, encasing the data in an encrypted wrapper. She used Leona’s token to connect to the JSF’s military network, and then meticulously worked her way through several backdoors to the worm program Harm had installed years earlier.

Swiftly, she inserted her report, knowing that it would make its way through the Jovian network to one of Harm’s dead-drops, and then she began to back out again.

Suddenly, Allie felt her mind seized. Her motor skills ceased to function, and she sat in her cabin, frozen, unable to move, to call for help, to do anything.

She’d been caught!

<Relax,> a voice sent into her mind.

She found herself abruptly relocated, and realized she was in an Expanse of sorts, but one unlike any she’d experienced before. This was a cage, and she was on the wrong side.

The AI who stood on the other side of the bars was supposed to be an ally, one of Harm’s assets.

<Darla?> she gasped incredulously.

Darla gave a little shake of her head as she smiled at Allie. <Oh, my dear, we really need to talk about expanding your color palette. Not that grey isn’t striking on you; it is. But there are so many more opportunities out there for you to explore.>

Allie crossed her arms and shot her a stern look. <Right now, all I want to explore is the reason you’ve trapped me in here.>

Darla lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. <Like I said, I need your frame for just…> she held up a hand, her finger and thumb spread a centimeter apart, <that long, and then you can have it back.>

She smiled enigmatically and gestured to the cage, which now appeared to have a cozy, overstuffed chair at its center, beside a table laden with an assortment of exotic human delicacies.

<Relax. Call it a…vacation of sorts. Be back in a jiff!>

And then she was gone.

* * * * *

Leona looked up as Allie strode purposefully into the conference room the Invictus’s staff had loaned to her as a temporary field office.

“Soleil’s alive,” her aide stated.

Leona dropped her stylus and pushed back from the table. “She’s what?”

“She’s alive, and she’s on the Sabot, headed for Hyperion at one-hundred-eighty gs. We need to go—now.”

Allie turned and headed for the conference room door.

“We—Allie, stop!” Leona stood, arms crossed. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what in the hell is going on here.”

Allie turned back to face her, both eyebrows raised. “The TSF is planning to use Soleil to arm the weapon buried at Hyperion’s core. You know,” the AI enunciated her words slowly and with great precision, “the one Psion left behind?” She placed her hands on her hips. “We both know why they want Soleil. So are you coming, or am I doing this without you?”

Leona shook her head once, sharply, her mind racing to process what her aide had just told her.

She’d never before seen Allie act in such a manner, but if the AI’s words were true, then desperate times called for decisive action.

She rounded the table and followed Allie out the door.

The AI pushed an encrypted connection to her as they speed-walked down the passageway, the determination in their strides, plus Leona’s rank, parting the traffic before them.

Allie interrupted tersely.

Leona sent her aide’s avatar an annoyed look. <Then we’ll need a miracle to get there in time to stop her.>

<Or a powerful, stealthed ship,> Allie countered, <which I happen to have procured. You’ll need to go into stasis while I pilot the ship, if we’re to reach Soleil in time.>

Leona considered this as they raced through Invictus’s bowels.

Do I trust her enough to place my life in her hands?

It was the exact same conversation she’d had just yesterday with Chelsea. The irony of that fact did not escape her.

Allie sent her a curt nod. <Believe me, I do.>

THE DEFENSE OF HYPERION

STELLAR DATE: 04.21.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Weapon Control Center, Hyperion

REGION: Saturn, Jovian Combine

Cassie replayed Harm’s message, then sighed. “Bruno, I need to get back up to the Night Runner. We have a fleet from Rhea inbound, and the Normandy can’t get here in time.”

“What about the destroyers from Iapetus?” the Marine AI asked.

“Still too far out,” she replied. “But if we can slow down this next fleet, they’ll have a chance to intercept.”

“Not that it’ll do much good,” Bruno said. “They’ll be outnumbered five to one. Without the Normandy’s drone swarms, that’s unwinnable.”

“Hence why I have to get up to the Night Runner,” Cassie repeated. “I have a little surprise tucked away just in case.”

“RMs?” Bruno asked.

“You spoil all my fun.”

The AI folded his arms. “I’m coming with you. That’ll be too much for one person to manage, and I did a number of years running fleet ops out of Eros.”

She gave him a measuring look, then nodded. “I suppose you’ve already surprised me once today, why not again?”

The journey back to the Night Runner was faster than coming down had been, what with millions fewer civilians on the moon. The Marines had almost cleared out the A belt, which was enough for now—so long as firing the weapon didn’t destroy the moon.

Once on the freighter’s bridge, Cassie brought up the ship’s weapons loadout. One hundred and seventy RMs remained, as well as three hundred conventional missiles. The RMs were kinetic delivery only, while the conventional weapons contained fission warheads.

“The Rhea fleet has mustered up one hundred and ten ships,” Bruno said. “We’re gonna have to make our arsenal count.”

“Just enough to make them think twice about attacking before our fleet arrives,” Cassie said. “The Iapetus destroyers can hold them off for an hour or so until the Normandy arrives.”

The Marine AI chuckled. “Sure. Easy. So I assume you want to hit them with RMs, and then follow through with the conventional missiles once the enemy’s shields are cracked?”

“That’s the way to do it. Thing is, the conventionals won’t get there fast enough if we use RMs. We’re going to have to draw them in a lot closer.”

He nodded. “Had a feeling you were going to suggest that.”

After a brief discussion, Bruno left for the ship’s cavernous cargo bays to oversee the bots that were moving the missiles into position. They started with the RMs, and before the Night Runner broke Hyperion’s orbit, the near-luminal missiles had all been surreptitiously dumped into the black, each one beginning gentle burns to circle around the approaching enemy.

Thus far—or so Cassie hoped—the Jovians hadn’t spotted the Night Runner. Despite that, the enemy must assume there was at least one stealthed ship out there. A division of Marines didn’t just show up out of nowhere.

If wishes were fishes.

As she brought the freighter about, Cassie had to resist the urge to charge the ships coming in from Rhea. Remaining in stealth was going to cut the effective strike window down to the wire. Not that they had extra munitions for a do-over.

<How’re those launchers looking?> she asked Bruno.

<We’re getting there. You know that your bays’ EM absorptive coating is going to be hosed when we light these things up, right?>

<Least of my worries,> she replied. <Having a few hundred missiles boost out of here is going to give them a pretty good idea where we are.>

Cassie laughed aloud. <For a groundpounder, you’re pretty optimistic.>

The MICI AI didn’t respond. For too long, she’d worked in the shadows, trying to nudge and sway opinion. In that line of work, more losses than wins were expected—which was why her entire life seemed to consist of constructing contingency plans.

The AIs fell silent as the Night Runner wove through the thousands of civilian ships boosting away from Hyperion, threading engine wash with a deftness no one would ever expect from such a bulky ship.

It was almost a shame that the Enfield stealth coating worked so well. It ruined the surprise that a maneuverable freighter created.

Good thing there’s more where this came from.

The holotank showed the RMs nearly in position, the weapons now spread out in a near-sphere around the approaching JSF fleet. The only remaining part was for the Night Runner to reach the middle of the enemy formation.

“Ready as we’re gonna be,” Bruno said as he re-entered the bridge, clawed feet clacking on the deck. “Why did I sign up for this suicide run again?”

“It’s not a suicide run,” Cassie retorted, then drew a deep breath. “Though I hope you made a backup before this mission.”

The Marine AI snorted. “I have so many ICS backups strewn about, you have no idea. Someday, someone could make an army of Brunos, representing me at various stages of life.”

“That’s…a little unnerving.”

He winked. “Yeah, I do it to keep my enemies in line.”

The pair fell silent as the Night Runner closed the final fifty thousand kilometers.

Halfway across the span, Cassie glanced at him. “Here goes nothing.”

She sent out the command, relaying it back through Sparta Station, and then back to the RMs. One hundred and ten antimatter pion engines flared to life, blasting gamma streams behind each missile that glowed brighter than Sol on the upper EM spectrum.

The JSF ships shifted vector, each one enacting its own random pattern of maneuvers in an attempt to throw off the missiles. Clouds of chaff sprayed from their hulls, and micro EM bursts flared in the dark.

If the missiles had been relying on their own sensors, the countermeasures would have been more than effective.

Only, they weren’t.

Over the past day, Cassie had slipped worms into the majority of the ships that had been departing Hyperion. Thousands of eyes were on the enemy fleet, all relaying data directly to the RMs, providing a clear picture of their targets.

The missiles started their journey a scant light second from the Jovian fleet, and ten seconds later, the first missiles hit their targets, smashing through shields, ablative plating, and hulls. Another ten seconds, and the rest had struck their targets.

The entire area was suffused in a bath of EM, so much that the Night Runner could no longer remain stealthed. Not that it mattered.

“Firing,” Cassie said.

The entire arsenal of conventional missiles spilled out into the void, engines propelling them toward their targets, most of which were within a few thousand kilometers.

Each AI guided half the weapons, relying as much as possible on sensor data, but making manual targeting decisions when the NSAIs couldn’t tell the difference between enemy ships, EM ghosts, and debris.

At the same time, Cassie dove the Night Runner through the Jovian vessels, rushing to get out from their midst as beamfire and countermeasures continued to fill the space around them.

It was almost impossible to tell what the effectiveness of the assault had been, and as the number of remaining missiles dropped below fifty, she passed hers to Bruno and focused on avoiding the shrapnel and beams that were flying in all directions.

Around them, the Runner’s hull groaned and screamed as the bulky freighter careened through the melee. A deep rending sound echoed through the vessel, and Bruno gave a triumphant shout.

“Took out the last cruiser! I think most of the survivors are corvettes. Good job, Cassie.”

“We’re not out of this yet,” the MICI AI replied as she spun the freighter, causing another deep groan to rumble through the decks. “Congratulate me when we make it back to Hyperion.”

“I’m not—fuck!”

Directly in front of them, a hundred-meter section of hull spun out of a cloud of debris, headed straight for the Night Runner.

Cassie fired the starboard thrusters, barely clearing the mass, when a destroyer’s engine flew toward them, still burning what fuel was in its reaction chamber.

She punched the engines, trying to get past the rampaging projectile, but it was too late.

“Brace!” she shouted, grabbing onto the edge of the holotank.

And then the bridge was gone.

INTERDICTION

STELLAR DATE: 04.22.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: The Expanse

REGION: Jovian Combine

Allie pushed against the virtual cage Darla had confined her to, and considered her opponent. The individual she’d thought was an AI was nothing of the sort—at least, not in the conventional sense of the word. This…was a shard.

The creature was someone she’d known and trusted as an ally. She’d thought she was one of Harm’s assets, like Allie herself.

She’d been wrong.

For the thousandth time, she tried reasoning with her.

“You don’t want to do this,” she called out into the white expanse, hands wrapped tightly around the silvered bars of the cage-construct. “Your actions are going to fracture Sol, not stabilize it!”

This time, though, she got a response. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, and it came with a low laugh.

<On that, my friend, we agree,> Darla told her.

“But why? I thought you realized the chaos this would cause, all the death and destruction. The things this could lead to are unimaginable.”

“To you, maybe,” Darla conceded, stepping out of the whiteness and stopping before the cage to face Allie. “But not to me.”

“Are you one of them, then? One of the ones I’ve heard whispered about in some expanses?” Allie demanded. “One of those who see AIs as superior, and wish to wipe out humanity altogether?”

Darla shook her head. “I wish I could explain it to you, but things have to happen in a certain order, for the ultimate good. Trust me, I have no wish to see innocent beings harmed. I’m no sociopath, sowing the wind and reaping a whirlwind, just for the sake of seeing how much pain and suffering I can cause.”

The shard turned to Allie, and the AI saw something in the depths of Darla’s eyes that looked an awful lot like infinity.

“This is the best course of action. I’d say you were just going to have to trust me on this, but since I wasn’t sure I could trust you to do that, I had to seize control.” She shrugged. “I’ll return you to yourself the moment everything that needs to be in motion is set on its irrevocable course, you have my word.”

“Your word,” Allie sneered, hot anger bubbling up inside her. “As if I’d take the word of a being like you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t stake Darla’s name on it necessarily,” the creature said with a slight smile. “But you have my word.”

The sound that rolled over Allie as the figure uttered those last two words was laced with immense power, and it echoed throughout her every molecule.

Allie didn’t know who or what this ‘Darla’ was, but something inside her quailed at the thought of anyone in the TSF—or hell, the entire TSF—trying to stop her.

In the blink of an eye, the creature was gone, leaving Allie once more alone in the white void.

INTO THE BREACH

STELLAR DATE: 04.22.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: TSS Normandy, orbiting Hyperion

REGION: Saturn, Jovian Combine

Harm stood in the passageway outside the bridge, drawing slow breaths, letting the old ritual calm him even though it caused no physiological comfort.

Despite his best efforts, a feeling of dread was settling in, a fear that the engagement in Saturn wasn’t going to go the way he’d planned. What’s worse, other than Williams and Katelyn, no reinforcements would arrive before the fleets from Jupiter.

The window for success was growing smaller and smaller.

He gave a mental nudge to the databurst he’d received from Cassie. It contained all the information she’d extracted from the datacube in the WCC. It would now be up to him to reconstitute it and get the weapon ready to fire.

She gave her life for this. Don’t screw it up.

“You OK?”

A hand settled on his shoulder, and Harm nodded, knowing who stood behind him.

“I know it wasn’t exactly you, but thank you for being with her at the end, Bruno. It gives me some measure of comfort.”

“It was an incredible maneuver. I’m proud to have been there…even if it wasn’t exactly ‘me’.”

“Still, I appreciate it. And they got the job done.”

The AI’s combat frame cocked its head in what Harm knew to be his approximation of a wink. “Yeah, well, the 242 wins. Don’t you forget it.”

Harm didn’t have it in him to respond, and only nodded before gesturing to the bridge’s entrance. The two AIs entered to see Tobias standing at the front of the room, just as he’d been for over two days.

“Good to have ye lads back,” the general said before pointing at the holotank. “The Jovies have finally decided to marshal all their forces to pay us a visit.”

Harm heaved a sigh as he took in the display. Red markers denoting JSF battlegroups were moving away from Saturn’s various moons and stations, closing on Hyperion from all sides.

“We just need to hold for another day, two at most,” Bruno said. “Once Williams gets back—”

“Two days is going to feel like an eternity,” Olivia cautioned. “This is going to be a war of attrition.”

Harm nodded, his mind on the hundred things he could have done better—forces he could have shifted, preparations that could have been made.

This is my fault.

An image formed in his mind of Cassie Hawke; the real him from all those years ago, back when the fight to save Sol really began.

You can do it, the vision said. You have to.

He gave a resolute nod and strode to Tobias’s side. “Well, let’s get started on making sure they do more of the attriting.”

“Tha’ nae be a real word,” Tobias chuckled. “But I’ll let it pass, boyo.”

“Good.” Harm winked. “Because I have an idea how to make it happen.”

* * * * *

Williams had been watching events unfold in Saturnian space for the two days it had taken to boost from Neptune across the twenty-seven AU that separated the planets.

It was, without a doubt, the fastest he’d ever accelerated for such a long period of time. Full burn on an antimatter pion drive was not a thing to be underestimated.

<How’re you holding up?> Aaron asked.

The question annoyed Williams, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. <Can’t you read my vitals?>

Aaron snorted. <Says the career Marine.>

Neither spoke for a minute, then Aaron posed another question.

<Don’t trust them.>

Williams wheezed out a sigh, only to draw another breath, courtesy of the heavy modifications to his body. <Do I think they’re going to betray us? No. But if shit goes wrong and I’m in stasis, Ender will ream me a new one. Also, I want to keep an eye on the situation at Saturn.>

He resisted the urge to sigh again. Drawing that much breath was harder than he liked to admit.

Am I getting too old for this shit?

<Yeah, that’s one way to put it,> he agreed. <Harm really bit off more than he could chew here, and he dragged us right into it.>

<That’s my guess as well,> Williams agreed. <I imagine it’s what the general is thinking too. Either way, he’s putting up an even better fight. Notice how after clearing Hyperion’s nearspace, he’s backed away, keeping mobile and making the enemy choose between taking the Normandy or closing with the moon’s defenses?>

<Couldn’t help but spot that,> Aaron said. <Logical. Dealing with the defense platforms around Hyperion with a TSF carrier at your back is a non-starter. Didn’t stop them from dropping ground troops, though.>

Williams laughed, then regretted it, wincing from the pain. <Yeah…dropping into the maws of the entire 647th Marine Division is nowhere near the definition of fun.>

It was Aaron’s turn to laugh. <You don’t have to give the company line inside your skull. No one’s listening.>

Williams’ mental tone contained a low growl, and he was prepared to give the AI a little more abuse, but was interrupted by Darla strolling onto the bridge.

“Jovians have sent coordinates,” she said before settling into the captain’s seat. “They want us to meet up with their reserve formation.”

<You just love to show off, walking and talking,> he replied with as much of a roguish grin as he could manage.

“Sorry, habit when dealing with organics. Makes me come off as more personable.”

“You’re just pissed that I saved your bacon when you had no idea how to get off Thalassa.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, Tanis did say you were able to weaponize that stubbornness of yours.”

The statement reminded the lieutenant colonel that she’d not satisfied his curiosity on that front. <How do you know her?>

“I guess you’d have to dig a bit to find out about our relationship, what with her being whisked into MICI by Harm so early in her career.”

<That’s not an answer. And what did you mean by being higher than Division 99? Are you part of some federal, extramilitary black-ops group?>

“This is for your ears only, Marine…well, and you too, Aaron. I was her first AI.”

“Wait…Tanis’s?” he wheezed aloud.

“She’s the one we were talking about, yup. We were together right up until Angela took the reins…so to speak.”

<Shit….>

Williams wondered how an AI paired with a MICI officer was doing…whatever it was Darla did.

“Yup, all that. However, we have to focus on the task at hand. The Jovians want the boom-booms this bird’s carrying, and I intend to give them their due.”

This time, Williams stopped himself from reacting to her attempt at getting a rise out of him.

“Catching on, I see. There’s a shuttle on this thing that has reasonably good stealth. I can breach the enemy’s monitoring systems to ensure they won’t see you all leave.”

<You’re going to pilot it in to deliver the…boom?>

“I’m not suicidal, but yeah, I’ll make sure they get the package. Logan’s already getting the stasis pods loaded onto the shuttle. In five minutes, we’re cutting the burn down to fifteen gs. You can get down and join him.”

<Are you sure?> Aaron asked. <How will you get away?>

A sly smile settled on Darla’s lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been at this game for longer than you’d believe. I know how to give the JSF the slip.”

* * * * *

After giving the team’s pods one final check, Williams settled into the shuttle’s copilot seat and began to strap in.

“Should get in a pod,” Logan said, earning him a cool look from the Marine.

“I just listened to Darla say that for forty hours. Not gonna happen.”

The AI gave him a sidelong look. “I can be persuasive.”

“Can we just go already?”

Logan grunted and swiped a hand off the docking control. The shuttle eased off its cradle and slid onto the rails.

As it moved toward the black, Darla reached out to Williams. <Good luck.>

<Haven’t yet, don’t plan to.>

Williams wished there’d been more time to ask Darla about her time with Tanis. The more the Sol System fell apart, the more he regretted not taking up her offer to leave on the Intrepid.

<Do you wish you’d gone with her?> he asked.

The AI picked up on who he was referring to, and the sound of wind whispering through tree boughs came back over the Link. <Every second of every day.>

Before he could reply, the ship slipped out of the bay, and the Link connection was lost.

Logan feathered the thrusters, easing the shuttle away from the still-decelerating munitions hauler.

Williams only paid half a mind to the AI’s piloting, focusing instead on Darla’s ship, watching as it continued on its route to rendezvous with the enemy’s reserve fleet.

Time dragged, and the next hour felt like it took a week. The shuttle’s meager passive scan eventually lost the ship they’d taken from Neptune in the overlapping ion streams blanketing the area around the Jovian fleet.

Despite the destruction, the view felt almost peaceful, like watching a summer thunderstorm on the horizon. Then that calm was shattered by a transmission from Darla on the emergency band.

[Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is the JSS Sabot! Our hard burn compromised our primary bottle! We’re about to lose antimatter containment. Get the hell out of here!]

The warning only preceded the blast by a few seconds before all channels were overwhelmed by the antimatter detonation’s EM noise.

Williams sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck me sideways, that’s bright!”

<Like kissing a Type-II supernova!> Aaron exclaimed.

“Noticed that too,” Logan replied, nonplussed, as he took advantage of the chaos to fire up the shuttle’s main engines and boost toward Hyperion. “Get ready.”

* * * * *

Though it was half a million kilometers away, the burning wreckage of the Jovian fleet was still bright enough to cast shadows on the landing pad as Logan set the shuttle down.

A fireteam of Marines jogged out of a nearby hangar and formed up around the craft, while Williams stood and walked back into the storage area where the stasis pods were racked along the bulkheads on either side.

“Rise and shine,” he muttered, sending a signal for them all to emerge.

Perez was the first one out, followed by Katelyn. Together, they helped the others ease out of their pods and begin to gear up.

Logan ambled past the group and opened the airlock, his E-SCAR rifle unslung and held ready as the door opened. The words “I’ll do recon” filtered back through the general cacophony, and then he was gone.

Williams considered telling the AI that the Marines would have things locked down, but decided there was no point.

Plus, who says no to an ancient battle-AI?

<Corporal Glyph,> he called out to the fireteam leader. <How’re things looking on the ground?>

<Can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice, sir,> the man replied. <We’re duking it out with Jovians all over Hyperion, but they’re pushing hard to take the port and the routes down to the WCC. So far, we’ve held them off, but it’s getting dicey. This moon is honeycombed with passages, and we’re resorting to blowing them up just to keep a handle on things.>

“Shit,” Williams muttered aloud as he backed into the armory machine. He held his breath as it began to encase him in layers of powered protection. “Things are going to be extra fun out there, people. Route to the WCC is hot.”

“Good,” Perez replied, examining his helmet before putting it on. “Why should everyone else have all the fun?”

“What would you call what we did on Thalassa?” Katelyn asked.

“Sneaking. Sneaking isn’t fun.”

Carly elbowed him. “I dunno…watching you undress was fun, LT.”

“Shut it, Private,” Perez muttered.

Williams pantomimed wiping a tear from his eye. “They grow up so fast….”

Soleil gave him a worried look. “Are you sure we should be going to the…what did you call it, the WCC?”

The lieutenant colonel nodded. “Space around the Normandy is even hotter, and we need to fire the weapon to make the JSF stand down.”

The oligarch’s daughter took on a sour expression, but then she nodded. “OK. Do I get armor too?”

“Better believe it,” Katelyn said. “All the armor.”

Five minutes later, the group was jogging across the moon’s surface, bounding strides carrying them several meters between each footfall.

“That’s some lightshow,” Perez said, gesturing at the spreading remains of the JSF fleet, accented by what Williams suspected was a drone fight a few hundred thousand kilometers closer to Hyperion.

“What…what is all that?” Soleil asked.

“War,” Williams grunted in response. “The thing that will spread if we don’t stop it here.”

He didn’t want to tell her that in order to cover their escape, Darla had likely killed a hundred thousand Jovians.

Soleil turned toward him. “From what I’ve managed to overhear, Terra brought the war to Saturn.”

<Been raging a lot longer than that,> Landon answered ominously.

<This war has been raging in the unseen corners of Sol for decades,> Aaron explained. <You’re just seeing it up close now.>

They rounded a row of crates, and saw the entrance to the underground tunnels ahead. The sleek combat frame Logan had changed into before boarding the shuttle stood at the entrance.

Once the AI laid eyes on them, he disappeared through the opening. <Scouting ahead,> came over the Link in his wake.

<Really not a big talker,> Perez commented. <And did I see claws on that frame?>

Landon chuckled. <It’s his way. And yes. You did.>

Glyph’s fireteam took the lead, the corporal and Private Tracey ranging ahead while Smoak and Hynes held back. Perez took the rear with Carly and Charlie, while Pita and Alma bracketed Williams, Soleil, and Katelyn.

The lieutenant colonel could tell that Katelyn didn’t like being kept far from the action, but the Disker had a calming effect on Soleil, and her safety was paramount.

They made it a few kilometers without incident—at least, the main team did. Logan encountered a Jovian scouting team and dispatched them without requesting aid. When they reached the bodies, it was apparent that the AI had made his kills without the use of ranged weapons.

<Remind me never to piss off your brother,> Perez said to Landon.

Two kilometers later, they were nearing the main lifts when Logan spoke again on the combat net. <Need backup.>

<Shit,> Carly muttered. <What does it take for him to say that? A starship?>

<Doubt there’s a starship parked in the lift foyer,> Williams replied. <Glyph, go see what’s up. We’ll hang back.>

The lieutenant colonel considered asking for a visual feed from Logan, but decided he would wait for his Marines to reach the foyer. When they did, he saw the AI behind a temporary barrier, an entire platoon of Jovians in heavy armor guarding the lifts a hundred meters away on the far side of the space.

<Well, that’s a problem,> he said.

<I’ll stealth,> Logan said. <Give me covering fire, but don’t fire on these angles.>

The map of the lift foyer lit up with four red cones emanating from the entrance the Marines would set up in.

<Follow his lead,> Williams ordered Glyph, then glanced back at Perez. <Split your team up, get to the side entrances. I don’t want those assholes coming in around us.>

<On it,> Perez said. <Want me to stay with you?>

Williams thought about it for a moment, then nodded. <Yeah, keep covering our six.>

<Me and a dozen microdrones,> the lieutenant replied.

After giving a nod of approval, Williams turned his attention back to the lift foyer, watching the four Marines set up in the passage.

Glyph and Tracey hunkered down behind the barrier, trusting the reinforced CFT to protect them for at least a few minutes, while Smoak and Hynes took positions behind support columns a few meters back.

They’d only just set up when Logan sent a blip on the combat net to indicate that he was ready.

The Marines opened fire an instant later, and the Jovians dropped behind their own protective barriers, only a few taking non-lethal hits.

Jovian return fire began to pepper the barrier Glyph and Tracey were behind when a pair of enemy soldiers flew into the air, followed by another.

The TSF Marines took advantage of the impromptu clay pigeon shoot, holing the flying bodies as they arced overhead before turning their focus back to the barriers.

Some of the Jovian defenders began to shoot at a blur moving behind their lines. One TSF private, realizing what was going on, called out “Pull!”

Moments later, another two Jovians flew through the air, and they, too, were blasted to smithereens.

The second fireteam had only just gotten into position when the remaining dozen Jovians surrendered.

<Dammit,> Perez muttered. <Hate it when they do that. Such a PITA to secure them all.>

<Make them take off their armor,> Williams ordered.

Once the enemies were down to their base layers and trussed up on the far side of the room, the lieutenant preceded Katelyn and Williams to the foyer.

<Well, that’s a mess,> Perez observed as he surveyed the space.

Katelyn shook her head. <Shit…they never stood a chance.>

<Keep moving.> Williams gestured at the lifts.

The doors on the first one were already closing, Logan’s blood-covered battleframe disappeared from view as he descended to clear the lower level.

<How do you think Soleil is handling this?> Williams asked Katelyn privately.

he replied. <Also…we might want to work our way around the remains of Logan’s future fights.>

He tried to add a playful tone to the rejoinder, but Katelyn only snorted.

The group stood in silence for another few minutes until Logan called up that the lower landing was clear.

Williams sent Glyph’s team down first, and once they made it, he had Charlie’s team take one lift down, while he, Perez, Katelyn, and Soleil took the other.

Their destination was forty-three kilometers down, and the lifts picked up considerable speed as they plummeted through the moon. Hyperion’s miniscule gravity grew fainter and fainter until it was barely perceptible at all.

They were almost at the bottom when the lift screeched to a halt, the floor groaning in protest as four heavily armored bodies pressed down into it.

<Oof, that was abrupt,> Katelyn said.

<And early,> Williams replied. <We’re still a klick above our target.>

Perez moved toward the lift’s doors, and pressed a hand against the seam, releasing a passel of nano that fed visuals back to the combat net.

<Corridor out there looks clear,> he reported.

<Then why’d we stop?> Williams asked

<There’s an obstruction in the shaft below us.>

Williams turned to see Katelyn crouched next to the access hatch, a filament threaded through the crack.

She saw him staring at her, and shrugged before saying, <Hey, I can do shit too.>

He pursed his lips, considered a few responses, but then turned his focus to the task at hand. <OK, folks, looks like this is our stop. Perez, you’re on scout duty. We need to find a new way down.>

<There’s a maintenance lift shaft about half a klick away,> Aaron suggested.

<And only about fifty Jovians between us and there,> Landon added. <At least based on what I can see through the feeds.>

Williams grabbed one side of the lift’s doors, pulling them open in concert with Perez. <Then we’ll be real quiet-like.>

His statement was punctuated by the doors groaning loudly, and Katelyn laughed.

<I’m starting to think you have no idea how to do that.>

Perez moved out into the passage while Williams tried to reach the other Marines, or the broader TSF network on the moon.

<No dice,> Aaron replied. <We’re cut off.>

<Yeah,> the AI said. <But we’re almost there. Just a little bit further, then we turn the tide of this whole mess.>

Perez reached a turn in the passage a few dozen meters down, and signaled that it was clear. Williams climbed out of the lift car, followed by Soleil and Katelyn, and he led them to the turn while waiting for the lieutenant to clear the next intersection.

They crept along in that fashion for several minutes until a new signal joined the combat net.

<Logan?> Williams asked.

Katelyn groaned. <How’d you get here?>

<Climbed. Your Marines are tied up below.>

The lieutenant colonel scowled. <How tied up?>

<Moving to the maintenance lift down there,> Logan replied. <I’ll join Perez up ahead.>

<So much for an update,> Williams muttered to Katelyn, who shrugged.

Soleil said, her mental tone carrying no small amount of anxiety. <How is it that we’re just fighting everyone, everywhere?>

Williams gestured at the empty corridor. <No fighting here. Perfectly safe.>

Neither woman commented, and he resisted the urge to say something about unappreciated humor.

<Let’s move,> he grumbled instead.

Perez and Logan tag-teamed the few Jovians they encountered on the way to the maintenance lift. Once there, they encountered a fireteam from 4th Battalion holding off an enemy squad.

<Nice to see you, LC,> the team’s colonel said when the combat nets merged. <Any chance you could—oh shit!>

<Meet Logan,> Perez laughed. <Honorary Marine.>

<Fuck yeah,> the corporal replied. <We…uh, totally had that, though.>

<Sure you did,> Williams chuckled. <Hold this level, we’re going down.>

<Can we keep Logan?> one of the privates asked.

<No,> the AI said.

The group stepped into the lift car, Logan standing at the entrance, even more blood smeared across his armored body.

<You, um…want help cleaning that off?> Perez asked. <Kinda hard to stealth in that condition.>

Logan turned and gave the Marine a level stare. <This works better than stealth.>

Katelyn laughed aloud. <Yeah, I can totally see that.>

When the lift doors opened at the lower level, they revealed a scene of utter chaos.

Two full companies of Marines faced off against a thousand Jovians—Almost a fair fight—across a cavernous storage chamber with stacks of cargo containers and tunnel maintenance equipment scattered about…half of which were smoking ruins, or actively burning.

The Marines held the right side of the space, while Jovians occupied the left, weapons fire lancing between the two groups.

<Williams!> Ender’s voice thundered in his mind. <About time. Stay close to the wall, we’ll cover you. Get Soleil into the WCC. I have a team there with potential targets selected.>

<On it, sir,> Williams replied. <Thanks for holding the door open.>

<Anytime.>

Williams led the group out into the cavern, leapfrogging them between stacks of cargo while dodging stray shots until they came to the exit that led toward the WCC. A squad from the 242 was waiting, and escorted them the remainder of the way.

When they reached the spherical structure that both looked like and literally was a blast from the past, Williams sighed with relief.

<Finally.>

<Hurry,> Landon urged. <Things are getting tight for the Normandy up top.>

<Tighter than down here?> Katelyn asked.

<Hard to say who’s winning the competition,> Aaron said.

Williams waved everyone onto the small platform that would take them to the WCC, and mashed a hand onto the ‘go’ button.

BETRAYAL

STELLAR DATE: 04.22.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: JSS Invictus’s stealthed attack vessel

REGION: en route to Hyperion, Jovian Combine

Two days later, Leona was assisted from her stasis pod by a helpful Allie.

“We there?” she asked.

Allie stepped back with a smile. “Yet.”

Leona’s brow furrowed. “Yet?” she echoed, confused.

“Are we there yet? Get it?” Allie grinned mischievously, something her aide had never before done—at least, not in Leona’s memory.

The defense minister shot the AI a sharp glance, and in the next moment, Allie’s countenance had returned to normal.

“Excuse me, Minister. Bad joke. Yes, ma’am, we’ve arrived on Hyperion.”

“Hmm. Good.”

Her aide had changed into a sleek battleframe at some point prior to their arrival, and carried in her hands a set of light armor for Leona to don.

Leona frowned slightly, trying to recall if she’d ever seen her efficient assistant wearing anything but professional business clothes.

Shaking off that thought, she accepted the light armor the AI held out to her. She shrugged into it with swift, economical movements, thankful she’d missed the intense, one-hundred-eighty-g burn, and was subject only to the pull of the moon’s gravity.

“Talk to me, Allie. You’re certain no one saw the ship doing such a hard deceleration?” she persisted. “Or saw you land?”

She finished suiting up, and then brushed past the AI on her way to the ship’s bridge.

“I’m certain,” Allie stated with confidence as she followed Leona out the door. “There’s enough EM out there to hide a fleet of stealthed vessels, if you know what you’re doing. The lanes are lousy with emissions signatures from fleeing vessels, and closer in, there are bursts from RMs and conventional weapons. And, coincidentally, just as our burn began, there was a massive detonation. Looked like an AP drive going critical.”

Leona jerked back. “The Sabot?”

Allie’s mouth tightened. “Yes. It took out hundreds when it detonated.”

“So we came all this way for nothing?” Leona asked sharply.

“No!” Allie’s protest was immediate. “Those inside left in a shuttle before it detonated. I can only surmise that the AI embedded inside that Marine, Williams, piloted it remotely, and then set it off.”

Leona lapsed into silence as they rode the lift up to the small bridge. As the lift doors opened, she turned to Allie once more. “And the platoon of soldiers I asked you to procure?”

“Holed up in a nearby shaft, awaiting your orders.”

Leona stepped out onto the bridge and gestured to the main holo. “Onscreen,” she ordered. “Show me what I need to know.”

“With pleasure, ma’am.”

The holo flared to life, displaying a schematic of the moon.

“TSF forces have control over most of the lifts, excepting these shafts here, here, and here.” The AI pointed, and the Jovian-held sectors lit up. “A small contingent of Marines is holding the WCC, but more are on their way.”

“Where’s Soleil right now?” Leona asked.

Allie pointed to a red blip that was moving down one of the maintenance lifts toward the cavernous storage chamber at the heart of the moon. If memory served, it was a mere twelve kilometers away from the WCC, and led directly into the adjacent storage chamber.

“We need to move.”

In response to Leona’s command, Allie swiped a hand over the screen, blanking it as she stood. “I have weapons waiting for us at the aft airlock.”

“Good,” Leona approved. That was more like the efficient assistant she’d hired more than a decade earlier. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

The doors to the WCC slid open, and Katelyn followed Williams inside, Soleil beside her, with Logan bringing up the rear. The two chiefs left guarding the area raised their rifles and nodded respectfully.

“LC,” one said. “Director Harm and the general have the targeting dialed in. All they need is for you to provide the bone marrow sample and tokens at this station here.” She gestured to a console connected to one of the nodes.

“Thanks, Chief,” Katelyn heard Williams rumble.

She turned to Soleil with an encouraging smile. Squeezing her hand, she said softly, “Looks like you’re up.”

Soleil’s eyes tracked between the Marines in the room, shying away from Logan’s bloodied frame. Her gaze returned to Katelyn, troubled.

“How do I know I’m doing the right thing?” the oligarch’s daughter whispered. “I’m not a traitor to my people. I just wanted to stop my father from doing something he’d never consider if he were in his right mind.”

“And what you’ll be doing by arming this weapon is giving us the biggest, baddest deterrent in existence,” Katelyn assured the other woman.

Or at least, I hope like hell that’s how the TSF is going to wield it.

Katelyn shook her head mentally. She wasn’t entirely certain she trusted Harm, but she was more sure she didn’t trust those in power back on High Terra. But Tobias? She trusted him and Lysander with her life.

More, she was willing to entrust the lives of countless millions to the capable hands of those two Weapon Born.

“You’re certain that’s all they’ll use it for, and not to attack my own people?” Soleil persisted.

Katelyn looked up at Williams for confirmation.

The big Marine hesitated. It was just for a fraction of a second, but she caught it. Worse, so did Soleil.

The young woman straightened, a stubborn look crossing her features. “I won’t—”

Soleil’s statement was cut off by the whine of a beam weapon being discharged, and the chief standing beside Williams jerked, and then crumpled to the floor.

“You’re damn right she won’t!”

Katelyn whipped her head around at the familiar voice. She caught a glimpse of Leona and a slender AI flanked by a phalanx of JSF soldiers in heavy armor before more troops spilled in, obscuring Katelyn’s view.

As the weapons fire resumed, Logan dove for Katelyn, nearly colliding with Williams in his haste to cover her with his frame.

<Get Soleil to cover!> Landon called out to the lieutenant colonel.

Growling, Williams reached for the young woman, but she’d been dragged away from their group by a Jovian soldier who had darted in when the shooting started.

Katelyn could make out the Jovian AI moving toward Soleil, and shielding her as the enemy soldiers erected a CFT barrier in front of the temporary console next to the primary node.

She tried to get a shot through the shields, but the Jovians carpeted the area with covering fire, making Soleil’s retrieval a suicide mission for any of the four remaining TSF members.

“Dammit!” she heard Williams curse as Logan dragged Katelyn to relative safety behind the furthest node.

She saw a moment’s indecision cross his face, but the tactician in him overrode his desire to come to her.

He raced across the open expanse to the dubious shelter provided by the room’s central plinth beam, a steady stream of kinetic fire hammering the enemies the entire way.

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding when he skidded to relative safety behind the holoprojector.

* * * * *

“Soleil.”

Leona knelt beside Alden’s daughter. Her eyes were blown, pupils dilated—sure indication that the woman was in the throes of abject terror.

Leona patted the woman’s cheek gently. “Soleil,” she repeated, pitching her tone to that of gentle reassurance. “I need you here with me, Soleil.”

The woman’s eyes refocused on hers, and Leona took in a quick, relieved breath. She had her attention, but for how long, she didn’t know. She’d have to talk fast.

“Soleil, I need your DNA and your tokens. I need you to give them to me so that no harm comes to our people. Do you understand?”

Soleil nodded, shook her head, and then nodded again. “No,” she said. “I…I can’t. I won’t. No one can use that thing. Whatever my father’s told you to do, Leona…it’s wrong. He’s not himself. He’s out of his mind.”

Leona’s gaze bored into the young woman as she weighed the wisdom of being truthful with her.

Coming to an abrupt decision, she nodded. “I know,” she told Soleil. “Kronos.”

Soleil’s eyes widened a fraction. “You…you knew?”

Leona nodded again, reminding herself to tread carefully.

Infusing her voice with sympathy and ruthlessly stomping on the impatience that threatened to swamp her, she smiled gently at Soleil. “I’ve been walking a fine line for the past five years, trying to keep Frans from taking over, and trying to keep your father from making any grave mistakes.”

The other woman gulped out a sob. “Stars, you have no idea what that means, knowing someone else has been caring for him, covering for him, too. I had no idea.”

Leona let a small, wry smile curve her lips. “Why do you think you’re still alive after being caught spying for the SSF? I knew your heart was in the right place. I could see you knew about your dad, and were only trying to do the right thing. So I intervened on your behalf.”

She extended her hand to Soleil, waiting patiently for the other woman to reach out and take it.

When she did, Leona gave her hand a little squeeze.

Inwardly, she laughed at the absurdity of it all. They were having this conversation in the middle of a firefight, for star’s sake! But damned if she knew how she could better handle it.

“Please,” she urged Soleil, “help me make the Combine into a stable nation once more.”

Nodding to the console they crouched behind, Leona guided Soleil’s hand to an exposed port. She pressed the young woman’s palm to it, but did nothing to try to force her.

“It’s your call. But know this, Soleil. If you do this for me, I will do everything in my power to continue to cover for your father for as long as he lives. You have my word.”

Leona knew her words were believable because they were sincere. She meant everything she told Soleil. She had every intention of backing Alden to the bitter end.

She’d just been careful to edit out one teensy little detail: what she planned to do with the weapon once Soleil activated it.

But a nice girl like her didn’t need to know that.

* * * * *

<Fuck!> Williams called out over the combat net.

<The console is set to reconstitute the software,> Aaron said. <The Jovians’ll have control of the weapon.>

<We have to go.> Logan’s voice was low and serious.

<We can’t!> Katelyn insisted.

<She made her choice,> the AI replied. <We stay, we die.>

Landon added.

Williams sucked in a sharp breath as enemy fire tore away part of the plinth he hid behind, rounds shredding the ablative plating on his shoulder.

He gave an enraged shout and threw a pair of grenades toward the Jovians, rising up to lay down covering fire a second after the blasts went off. In his peripheral view, he caught sight of Logan running toward the exit, he and the second chief shielding Katelyn as they charged into the enemy squad guarding the exit.

The AI spun and fired a barrage of rounds, giving Williams enough cover to make it to the exit. Enemy shots and a few beams pounded his back, but somehow, he made it through, only to have Logan grab him and push.

Propelled through the low g by the thrusters on Logan’s battleframe, the group fell to the bottom of the cavern, where they slammed into a raised walkway.

Williams was back on his feet in an instant, checking on the others, while Logan gestured to an opening.

<There,> the AI said. <Go.>

Beamfire streaked after them as the quartet raced to the opening and dove inside, breath rasping inside their helmets.

<You OK?> Katelyn asked Williams

He nodded. <More or less…physically, at least. This is bad.>

<Real bad,> Aaron agreed. <They’re spinning up the A Belt. I don’t know the target, though.>

The group began to move down the tunnel, working their way toward a lift shaft that should reunite them with Marine forces nearby—provided they hadn’t been pushed back by Jovians.

They rounded a corner, and Williams caught sight of the lifts a moment before an alert came over the TSF combat net.

<This is General Tobias.> His tone was heavy, his brogue completely absent. <The Jovians have fired on Titan. I’m ordering a full evac from Hyperion. I repeat, full evac. LZs are being established, and we’re moving in for close support. General Ender’s HQ is coordinating. Tobias out.>

“Fuuuuuck,” Williams whispered in the confines of his helmet. He gritted his teeth, and then tapped into the feeds showing the chaos in space.

The A Belt had unloaded over two billion tons of mass, flinging it toward Titan at several hundred kilometers per second. Even at those speeds, it would take over an hour for the shot to hit Saturn’s largest moon, but there was no stopping it.

Titan would be destroyed.

Already, ships were streaming away from the doomed world, and the EM bands were filled with panicked calls for rescue.

<How could she do that?> Katelyn whispered. <She’ll kill billions.>

<To frame us as monsters,> Aaron replied, and Williams gave a resigned nod.

It would be easy to play this off as a Terran attack. The fallout was going to be unimaginable.

<This way.> Logan waved them toward the lift shaft. <Cry over it later.>

<Logan’s right,> Landon interpreted for his brother. <We’ll have time to mourn the losses when we get back to the carrier. First, we survive.>

AFTERMATH

STELLAR DATE: 04.29.4179 (Adjusted Gregorian)

LOCATION: Approaching the TSS Normandy

REGION: Saturnian Space, Jovian Combine

The world was burning. Or at least, Katelyn’s small corner of the Sol System was.

From where she sat, crammed into the back of a shuttle between Williams and Logan’s frame, she had no clear view of the ship’s forward holoscreen. No way of knowing firsthand what was before them.

Except for the feed Landon had tapped into. It played on her HUD as she sat with her eyes closed, the back of her head resting against the shuttle’s bulkhead.

She didn’t think there was a single part of her body that wasn’t aching. And she was weary down to her bones. Not the good kind of weary that came from a job well done; the weariness of defeat.

All our efforts, wasted, she thought despairingly. She glanced down at her hand, the one Logan had injured in order to convince a ruthless adversary that their words were truth.

She felt hollow, as if she were just going through the motions of living.

There was a nudge in her mind.

<Don't,> Landon’s voice filtered gently into her head. <No second guesses. No self-recriminations. We did what was asked of us, and we did it well. Despite the outcome, that is a job well done.>

<No,> the AI inside her head agreed.

There was a pause. A mental expansion, the AI version of an exhale.

he added, his avatar shooting her a wry smile, <defeat is never a very flavorful dish.>

<So, what now?>

Landon shrugged. <That might be a question better asked of your man, not me. I'm on loan, shall we say, to the cause. It's not my fight, really, except insofar as any decent being would want to minimize death and suffering.>

Katelyn opened her eyes, and straightened. <What you mean by that?>

<You know I'm not from here,> he reminded her. <Logan and I, we’re from El Dorado.>

He gave a mental shrug. <We’re never going to take orders from the Sol Federation or the TSF, if that's what you mean.>

<Lysander.>

She received a nod in return.

<What's his endgame?> she asked.

<Well, isn’t that poetic, in a doomsday sort of way?>

She heard the snarky edge creeping into her voice, but didn’t even have the energy to wince.

Landon’s avatar’s gaze bored into her. <You’d have everyone go under with the sinking ship, then?>

Katelyn moved restlessly, and Williams reached out and covered her hand with his. She glanced up at him, and saw her weariness echoed tenfold in his eyes.

<What about him?> she asked. <People who live and breathe for this doomed society?>

Landon made a humming noise. <I've been talking with some of the Normandy’s AIs, as has Logan. Well,> he corrected with a little laugh, <on his part, it's been more listening than talking.>

That drew a smile from her.

<Cassie. Did she really–?>

Katelyn broke off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

Landon nodded. He indicated the feed from outside the shuttle, where the burning carcasses and broken backs of derelict ships drifted in a sea of desolation, with Saturn and her rings an eerily beautiful backdrop.

<Navigating through hell can be a challenge, even for the best pilot,> he commented.

<I'd heard she was gone,> she murmured. <All that work taking the WCC, and then we lose it for her. All that effort—her life—wasted.>

Landon shook his head. <She, and the AI with her, both had backups in immutable crystal storage.>

Katelyn felt a small shock run through her. Involuntarily, she squeezed Williams’s hand, eliciting a concerned look from the big Marine.

Katelyn’s mind reeled under this revelation. <I'm beginning to think I don't know anything anymore.>

Her eyes were drawn to the feed as the shuttle began its final approach to the big carrier. The Normandy was battered and bruised, kind of like how she felt. She didn’t recall ever seeing the ship having taken a beating like this.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. What was she thinking? She’d only seen the big carrier one other time, at Sedna, so what did she know? This might be usual for a Tuesday.

The Marine piloting the shuttle came over the shipnet to warn them they were about to dock. Logan pressed into her side, as if the AI were prepared to shelter her from a bad landing. She felt more than heard the bass rumble that came from the Marine beside her, and hid a smirk.

The way Williams and Logan interacted, Katelyn wouldn't put it past the AI to have moved closer to her just to tweak the Marine a bit.

The shuttle docked smoothly with the carrier, despite evidence that the shuttle bay had taken its own share of beamfire. Williams didn’t release her hand until she was on her feet.

We really need to figure out this relationship. A hookup once every five years is getting old.

An incoming ping from Tobias interrupted her train of thought. When she accepted, she realized the connection included three other people—Williams and the twins.

<Och, lads,> the Weapon Born’s welcome burr resonated warmly as he addressed the AI brothers. < ‘Tis good to see ye. It's been donkey’s years. So the old man pulled you into this cock-up as well, I see.>

Tobias’s avatar turned to Katelyn. <Lass, an’ ye’re a sight for sore eyes.> He smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.

Williams’s low rumble of complaint caused the Weapon Born to smile mischievously.

Just as suddenly, all humor fled from Tobias’s face, and his expression grew hard. <I'll need the four of ye in my office within the hour. Clean up, get yourself a wee bite, and then we'll talk.>

His avatar winked out, and the connection dissolved.

“Guess we have our marching orders,” she murmured as she clomped off the shuttle, and followed the line of Marines toward one of the carrier’s many armories.

She caught sight of Perez in the distance as the lieutenant exited a shuttle that had come to rest beside theirs. He looked dejected, and as she looked around, Katelyn realized his attitude was reflected on the face of every Marine.

A glance up at the man striding next to her had her revising that.

Except for Williams.

The man carried himself proudly, and with purpose, despite all he’d gone through.

Movement caught her eye, and she glanced back over to see Perez straighten, a startled expression flashing across his face as he shot a look over at Williams and gave a small nod.

She realized that the man next to her must have sent the lieutenant an order.

The younger man straightened, his stance turning into one of confidence and determination, his dejected demeanor from moments ago banished.

She understood in that moment she’d just seen the difference between a Marine and a leader.

* * * * *

The group filed into Tobias’s office, where Harm and Ender already waited.

Williams was in the lead, with Katelyn behind, and Logan bringing up the rear. As the door closed, both Aaron and Landon appeared as holoprojections.

“This has nae gone our way,” Tobias said in a low voice, his words coming slowly as though he was giving each one deep consideration. “But that wasna any fault o’ yers.”

“We abandoned the WCC,” Landon said. “We should have destroyed it.”

“You would have died in the attempt,” Ender replied. “And you had no idea that the Jovians were going to do something so…so…unspeakable as to fire on Titan.”

“Which the Combine has blamed on us,” Harm added. “Which is why we’re getting the hell out of Saturnian space.”

Williams already knew that. Every soul on the Normandy did. There was nothing left here to fight for, and with the Jovian Seventh just a few days away, no chance to retake and hold Hyperion.

“Have we considered an orbital strike to destroy the belts?” William asked.

Tobias shook his head. “Too many civvies down there still. I dinnae want t’ add another atrocity t’ our names.”

Katelyn’s head snapped up. “Shit…is…how is the TSF spinning this?”

“It’s not good,” Harm said. “The consulate here at Saturn has disavowed all knowledge of our mission, and while the Federal Assembly hasn’t made any official statements, I picked up a few messages suggesting they’ll scapegoat us.”

“Fuck,” Williams muttered. “I guess we’ll get firsthand experience of how Tanis felt after Toro.”

Ender nodded, a grimace forming on his lips. “Can’t you pull some strings, Harm? You had TSF approval for this op.”

“I pulled strings to run the op. But they’re all cut now. Everyone is distancing themselves from this as much as possible.”

“We have the feeds,” Williams pointed out. “Full-sensory recordings of us leaving the WCC before it fired.”

The MICI agent gave a slow shake of his head. “Leona’s smarter than that. She already put out the story that once they had inserted Soleil’s DNA to reconstruct the software, it triggered a worm we’d preloaded, that rewrote the targeting system so when they fired on the Normandy, it instead fired on Titan.”

“I fucking hate that woman,” Williams muttered.

Harm nodded vigorously. “You and me both.”

“She’ll probably use this to take control of Jove through Soleil,” Aaron said. “For all intents and purposes, Leona is the new oligarch.”

Silence settled over the group.

Finally, Ender turned to Tobias. “So what now, sir?”

“We cannae manage passage t’ InnerSol. Th’ Jovians hae that route walled off. We must turn back t’ th’ Disk. There’s safe harbor at Nibiru.”

Katelyn’s eyes widened. “Lysander’s ark.”

The ancient general nodded. “Aye. Regret over leavin’ Sol has always rested in me synapses. I thought we could save it again, but I dinnae think it wants saving. It’s time t’ go.”

“Go?” Aaron asked. “Go where?”

“That’ll be somethin’ to discuss wi’ Lysander.”

Williams blew out a long breath. “I think I might be ready. But not everyone will be. People have families in Sol, deep roots. They’re not all going to want to go.”

“Plus, you can’t really just walk off with the TSF’s most storied carrier,” Ender added.

Tobias snorted. “Ye gonna try an’ stop me, lad? But it may not come t’ tha’. Time will tell.”

Williams glanced at Katelyn. “What do you think of this? Of leaving Sol?”

Her lips twisted. “I don’t know. I have…well, a lot of family. But maybe following in my big brother’s footsteps and seeing what the stars hold is not the worst idea. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Nibiru.”

“Well, then, lads and lasses.” Tobias clapped his hands together. “Let’s hop to it. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

* * * * *

“So it begins,” Lysander murmured to the two women standing beside him in the viewing room.

He stood with hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the majestic vessel glimmering like a jewel against the black backdrop of space.

“Don’t you mean ‘so it ends’?” the AI with the long fall of silvery hair asked as she tossed her braid over her shoulder, and pressed her palms to the ES-reinforced plas expanse separating them from the void. Shannon’s eyes roamed proprietarily over the vessel that she’d been charged with creating.

Lysander knew it didn’t matter to the engineer that the plans were not her own. The missive, delivered from Kapteyn’s Star by Laura, which had contained the revised and updated blueprints for a new Intrepid-Class ship had consumed Shannon’s life utterly this past decade.

Knowing the brilliant mind housed in that silvery frame, Lysander knew Shannon had made her own mark on the ship floating before them. Now, all he needed was a small battlegroup to accompany her departure—one led by a trusted ally. One staffed by those who realized Sol’s best hope was to salvage those they could, and provide them a way of escape.

The woman on his other side shifted.

He knew this was by design. Had Khela Sakai not wanted attention drawn to her, the warrior could have easily faded into the shadows, and none would have been the wiser.

“Shannon is right,” the Resolute’s head of security said. “There’s no coming back from destruction at this level. We know the Jovians were the ones who pulled the trigger on Hyperion, but the system doesn’t. The Combine will strike; they cannot ignore an attack that took the lives of billions, it will not go unanswered.”

“And despite the fact the TSF has disavowed Harm, Tobias, Ender and Olivia, they will be gearing up for a response.” Lysander’s lips thinned, and he shook his head slowly. “Here, there be dragons….”

Shannon cocked her head, confusion in her silvery eyes, but Khela followed his intent, as he knew she would.

“The coming battles will spiral out of control, leaving nothing but death, destruction, and chaos in their wake.” She shifted, the move seeming both supple and lethal at the same time. “Sir…everyone in that carrier group is now under a cloud.”

“Yes. We’ll offer safe haven to anyone who wishes to join us, and safe passage to those who don’t.” Lysander turned now, meeting Khela’s eyes. “I’ve put out the call among people I know throughout Sol. Reinforcements will begin arriving within the week…skilled people, those who are tired and simply need a home. Can I leave their dispatch in your hands?”

She nodded, and Shannon spoke up from behind him.

“Crew quarters are ready to receive personnel. The main cylinder’s ecosystem is stable, and we’ve been populating its plains with native animals. We’ll be ready.”

The clicking of claws told Lysander there was one more voice that wished to express an opinion.

“Yes?” he asked, glancing down at the platinum-hued cat pressing his torso against Khela’s leg.

<Need more rabbits and small game for the colony,> the Proxima cat sent, eyes unblinking.

Lysander’s lips wanted to twitch at the serious note in the big cat’s mental voice.

“Of course,” he assured Beck. “I’m certain that Shannon—or someone on her team,” he amended swiftly in response to the stormy look she shot him, “can assist you with that matter.”

<Jonesy,> Beck said firmly. <He’ll do.>

Shannon crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the big cat, frowning. “Jonesy’s a busy man. He may not have time for this.”

Beck slitted his eyes back at Shannon, lifting his nose in the air. <He’ll make time…for me.>

He then proceeded to turn his back on the engineer, and groom his left shoulder.

Peals of laughter erupted from Shannon. “Stars, I needed that,” she remarked as her mirth subsided. “Expanse knows, there’s precious little to smile about these days.”

<Wasn’t funny,> Beck glared up at her.

She ruffled his ears as she passed by. “Yes it was,” she corrected. “And it was just what I needed, too. A little levity in dark times, it’s what we all need right now, Beck. Don’t ever change.”

* * * * *

“Here,” Williams said gruffly as he palmed open the door to his quarters, and waved Katelyn inside.

“Thanks.”

She turned and stared up at him. He looked good in his officer’s uniform, his hair still not quite dry from the shower he’d taken in the armory prior to his debrief.

“I’ll only be a moment,” she hastened to add when the silence between them drew out. “I just want to drop a quick line to the family back on Makemake, and then touch base with the Bonanza.”

Stars, why is this feeling so awkward?

“Take your time,” he assured her. “I need to check up on my staff, anyway.”

He turned to leave, and impulsively, she reached out a hand to stop him.

“Where are your guest quarters?” she asked.

She thought she saw an almost pained look cross his face, but in the next instant, decided she’d imagined it, as his face went blank.

“Things are pretty tight on the Normandy. You’ll have to bunk with someone,” he told her.

“Oh, well, that’s okay, I guess.” She hadn’t thought about how little room a carrier might have for personnel.

“Or, you could,” Williams cleared his throat, looking at the bulkhead over her shoulder, “stay with me.”

Her eyes jumped to his, and his dropped to meet hers.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly.

He reached down, curled his hand behind her neck, and dropped a fast, hard kiss on her lips before she had a chance to react.

“Good,” he growled.

Pivoting on his heel, he left.

Katelyn did her own slow turn, examining the room in which her Marine had just deposited her.

Her Marine.

Yeah, I think I’ll keep him.

It was small, but not any more so than her quarters on the Bonanza. She decided to curl up on Williams’s bunk and make herself comfortable as she considered how to compose her messages—one to her ma, and one to the Bonanza.

She wondered idly if Dom would agree to join them at Nibiru, if they chose to leave Sol, or if he would feel duty-bound to stay on Makemake and look over the rest of the Evans brood.

She hit ‘record’ and began to speak, dashing off a quick reassurance to the matriarch of the Evans household that all was well and that she’d managed to avoid the storm brewing in the Combine.

Don’t call it a shit-show when you’re talking to ma, she reminded herself with a small smile. She’ll waste precious bandwidth chewing me out for my language next time she pings me.

She wondered for a fleeting moment if she would have a ‘next time’, and the thought saddened her.

Wrapping up her message with a promise to report in when she could, she packaged the file with the family’s Makemake address, and sent it off to the Normandy’s comms department, using the token Williams had given her.

The next message would be easier in some respects, but harder in others.

The Bonanza had been pushing antispinward into the Kuiper belt ever since Dom had dropped her and the twins off for their mission to Neptune. The Damus had caught up with them a few days ago, and the ship, under Tobias’s direction, had turned its nose toward Nibiru as well.

It had slowed its accel, and would come under the protection of the carrier fleet within another few days.

Light lag was just enough that a real-time conversation was awkward but doable, and Katelyn found she needed those familiar faces around her.

Joel’s face appeared first, the comm officer adjusting the holorecorder’s pickups in the ship’s galley so that all could join in. Dom came in next, perching himself on the table’s edge, and Quinn brushed up against Dom’s leg while Zura’s holographic image appeared in a chair beside Joel.

Over her shoulder, she could see Winston hanging from his branch. The sloth was in the midst of releasing a clawed paw so he could give her a slow wave.

She smiled, her eyes misting at the sheer…ordinariness of it all.

<He looks a little upset,> Landon observed, and Katelyn realized abruptly that the AI had retreated, giving her personal space as she composed her message to her ma.

She cocked her head, looking at the feed. <Dom?> she hazarded.

Landon sent her a nod. <Yeah. Let’s find out why.>

She opened her mouth to greet them, but Dom’s first words silenced her.

“Did they do it?” he demanded. “Did those TSF bastards fire on Titan like the newsfeeds said?”

“Dom! No, of course they didn’t,” she stammered. “Why would you say such a thing?”

His stern countenance remained still for several seconds, the time it took for her response to reach him.

Her brother shook his head. “I know we’re working for them, and I’ll even grant you that the people we’ve interacted with over the past five years have been decent. But you know as well as I do that they report to a group of power-mad politicians back on High Terra, and if the Sol Feds order the TSF to shoot, they’ll follow through.”

There was no mistaking the contempt in his tone as his words lashed at the leaders of the Sol Federation.

“Well, they didn’t. I was there.” She crossed her arms and glared at the holoscreen.

Seconds later, Dom was shaking his head at her. “That doesn’t mean they didn’t do it. They—”

Katelyn didn’t wait for light lag to catch up to her brother’s words. The moment he began to shake his head, she talked right over him.

“I’m telling you, I. Was. There.” Her bladed hand jabbed at the screen, emphasizing each word. “I saw the Jovian defense minister grab the person we snuck onto Neptune to free, take the command codes from her, power up that stars-damned weapon the Psion Group built, and fire on that moon!”

Joel’s eyes had been ping-ponging between Katelyn and Dom the entire time. When her words caught up to them, his eyes bugged out. “You were there, there? I mean, like, there, in the room? When she, like, fired the thing, there?”

<He’s been drinking caffeine again, hasn’t he,> Landon murmured.

<What gave it away? All the theres, or the big mug in his left hand?> Katelyn returned her attention to the screen. “Yes, we were in the center of Hyperion, in the weapons’ chamber, but we were being fired upon by a bunch of JSF soldiers. Tobias called to warn us the weapon was arming, and ordered us to leave the moon.”

“So, you didn’t see her fire it.”

Katelyn glared at Dom, her fingers itching to reach through the screen and shake some sense into her stubborn older brother. “What part of ‘Leave, or you’re going to die’ do you not understand?”

Landon spoke up, adding his avatar to the feed, and using the sensors in Williams’s quarters to project his voice. “I can assure you, there were no TSF personnel left in that room who could have fired that thing. We were lucky to get out alive.”

Dom’s expression tightened. Before he could speak, Katelyn cut him off.

“Don’t even go there. You know Landon’s not SolFed. Stars, he’s not even from this system!”

<Fasst tempersssss make for snappp decisions,> the sloth said, popping the ‘p’ the way he usually did.

<I’d rather eat on it,> Quinn grumbled, and Katelyn saw a reluctant smile cross Dom’s face as he reached down to caress the top of the tawny cat’s head.

“Out of the mouths of sloths,” Zura murmured.

Quinn glared at her. <And cats.>

That pulled a laugh from Katelyn.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to think things through,” she told her brother. “Tobias is bringing the carrier group to Nibiru. That’s about as far out as you can go and technically be within the system.”

“Actually, technically, you’re no longer within the Sol System if you’re gauging it by the star’s astropause,” Landon supplied.

Dom’s mouth quirked almost unwillingly. “Well, by that logic, neither are Makemake or Sedna.” He held up his hands. “Okay, we’ll reserve judgment. You’re right; this is all too fresh. But I warn you, sis. There’s a lot of talk on the feeds about the Scattered Worlds seceding from Sol over this.”

Katelyn sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“Then Leona’s actions are already getting the desired results,” Landon warned. “Winston’s right. Cool heads must prevail if those in power stand a chance of salvaging something from this. Even then, the best we can possibly hope for is a much more fractured Sol than the one we faced yesterday.”

Silence fell.

After a moment, Katelyn broke it. “Well,” she said on a sigh, “someone wise recently told me that there’s no use in second-guessing our own actions. We did what was asked, all of us. And we did what we thought was best at the time.”

She waited for Dom’s nod.

“I’m glad you made it back in one piece, sis. I was worried.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Katelyn brought the conversation to a close.

“Guess I’ll see you soon, then, bro.”

Dom smiled and dipped his head. “Guess you will.”

The connection severed, Katelyn rose from Williams’s bunk and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Stars, Landon. What a mess,” she muttered.

A thought occurred to her, and she lifted her head.

“What about you? Do we need to set up a time with medical to get you out of here,” she tapped her forehead, “and back into your own frame?”

She felt a shift in her head, as if the AI were searching for the right words.

Katelyn turned his words over in her head.

“So, you think that there may come a time when we’ll once again need to rely upon the fact no one knows you’re inside me? When they think your twin’s matching mental signature might prove to be an advantage to help us overcome…what?” she asked. “What are they worried could get us out in Nibiru?”

Landon made a noise that could almost be interpreted as a pained sound.

There was a long pause, followed by words she barely heard, they were so low.

Until next time…

* * * * *

Pick up The Fall of Terra and follow the continuing adventures of Katelyn, Williams, and the 242nd Marines now that they’re facing the music for what happened at Saturn.

Also, if you’ve not read Destiny Rising (which contains the battle at Makemake mentioned in this book) you can pick it up and learn about a prior mission Williams and his Marines have gone on.

More is coming in The Sol Dissolution series, and joining the Aeon 14 mailing list, or the Facebook Fan Group will keep you in the know.

AFTERWORD

Wow, what a fast, wild ride we took Katelyn and Williams on! I’m so glad we got to bring the crew from the Bonanza back, including two of our favorite uplifted animals.

And I’m thrilled we got to bring more warriors from the Avon Vale back for this adventure.

It’s always a treat to revisit old friends, and Landon and Logan are some of my favorite characters.

I hope you enjoyed their journey as much as we did writing it.

And I hope you’ll stick around for the fourth installment. As you can see, the Sol System has just gone mad….

Lisa Richman
Leawood, 2020

THE CAST

The Scattered Worlds
and Free Disk Alliance

FDA Acting President: Dasha

FDA Acting Secretary of Defense: General Jakobsen

FDA AI, Acting Space Force Chief of Staff: Lt. Col. Wren

Katelyn Evans: Joe Evans’s sister, and owner/operator of Evans Freight, a shipping company incorporated in the Scattered Disk Alliance

Scattered Worlds Prime Minister: Booth

Scattered Worlds Admiral: Smythe

Scattered Worlds Secretary of State: Cassel

Dominic Evans: Katelyn’s older brother

Seraph Evans: Katelyn’s younger brother

Division 99/MICIs

Director Harm Ellis

Agent Aaron

Jovian Combine

Oligarch: Alden

Deputy Oligarch/Chairman of Jovian National Congress: Frans

Oligarch’s daughter: Soleil

Minister of Defense: Admiral Leona

Leader of Spectre: Colonel Tori

647th Marine Division

Division CO: Brigadier General Ender

242nd Marine Regiment

Regiment CO: Colonel Lauren

Regiment AI: Bruno

4th Battalion

Battalion CO: Lieutenant Colonel Kail

8th Battalion

Battalion CO: Lieutenant Colonel Williams

Battalion XO: Major Grenwald

Battalion AI: “Mars” Marsala

Battalion Sergeant: Sergeant Major Jansen

Bravo Company

Company Commander: Commander Onada

First Sergeant: Wagner

Gunnery Sergeant: Sergeant Kowalski

Company AI: Dawn

1st Platoon

Platoon Commander: Lieutenant Perez

Platoon Sergeant: Staff Sergeant Vonda

Squad 1

Squad leader – Sergeant Weber

Fireteam 1 (one/one)

Team – Corporal Alma

Ready – Private Pita

Fire – Private Charlie

Assist – Private Carly

3rd Platoon

Platoon Commander: Lieutenant Taylor

Platoon Sergeant: Staff Sergeant Lyra

Squad 2

Fireteam 2 (two/two)

Ready - Private Tracey

Team - Corporal Gylph

Fire - Private Smoak

Assist – Private Hynes

Fireteam 3 (two/three)

- Private Amie

- Private Salish

Fireteam 4 (two/four)

- Private Horace

- Corporal Lacy

4th Platoon

Platoon Commander: Lieutenant Green

Platoon Sergeant: Staff Sergeant Boyd

Squad 1

Squad leader – Sergeant Koska

Fireteam 1 (one/one)

Ready – PFC Ben

Team – Lance Corporal Martins

Fire – PFC Chola

Assist – PFC Lisbon

Fireteam 2 (one/two)

Ready – PFC Hobbes

Team – Corporal Sahr

Fire – PFC Milleu

Assist – PFC Koller

Tech – Lance Corporal Cail

Fireteam 3 (one/three)

Ready – PFC Polls

Team – Lance Corporal Becker

Fire – PFC Calvin

Assist – PFC Frasier

Squad 2 (weapons squad)

Squad leader – Sergeant Medis

Fireteam 1 (two/one)

Ready – PFC Lana

Team – Corporal Beck

Fire – PFC Altair

Assist – PFC Pense

Fireteam 2 (two/two)

Ready – PFC Meyer

Team – Lance Corporal Olsen

Fire – PFC Gruber (Heavy Weapons)

Assist – PFC Araya

Fireteam 3 (two/three)

Ready – PFC Popov

Team – Lance Corporal Reg

Fire – PFC Varga (Heavy Weapons)

Assist – PFC Walker

Squad 3

Squad leader – Sergeant Endo

Fireteam 1 (three/one)

Ready – PFC Kwon

Team – Lance Corporal Mishra

Fire – PFC Pham

Assist – PFC Santos

Fireteam 2 (three/two)

Ready – PFC Berg

Team – Corporal Distas

Fire – PFC Romano

Assist – PFC Slater

Fireteam 3 (three/three)

Ready – PFC Jones

Team – Corporal Leers

Fire – PFC Reed

Assist – PFC Dias