Copyright © 2024 by Archimedes Books. All rights reserved.

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

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

DARK MATTER GAMBIT

STARSHIP BANDITS

BOOK SIX

ROSS BUZZELL

BOOKS IN THE STARSHIP BANDITS UNIVERSE

1. Starship Bandits

2. The Last Scoundrel

3. Deadman’s Run

4. War Tide

5. Void Signal

6. Dark Matter Gambit

STAY INFORMED WITH THE PACK

This is your personal invitation to join the community we call our Pack. Below are two ways to stay in touch via email or Facebook. Either way we’d love for you to be a part of our family.

For updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit our website and sign up for the VIP mailing list. Head there now to receive some free stories. CLICK HERE

We also created a special Facebook group called “Jonathan’s Reading Wolves” specifically for readers, where I show new cover art, do giveaways, and run contests. Please check it out and join whenever you get the chance! JOIN HERE

STAY INFORMED WITH ROSS BUZZELL

Follow Ross Buzzell on Instagram and Amazon. He’s also created a Facebook group called Ross’ O.W.S. for readers, where cover art, concept art, a peek into his everyday life, contests, and one day soon, giveaways. Please check it out and join whenever you get a chance!

For updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions and giveaways of content not available on the Facebook page, sign up for the VIP mailing list by clicking here.

PREVIOUSLY ON STARSHIP BANDITS

The Junkyard crew’s counter to Henuva’s bug bioweapon found a way to jump species using bug-Valtukta hybrids. Fortunately, Sleek was able to get out an SOS to Dalia fast enough to allow our intrepid heroes to respond quickly. They were able to destroy the infection on their world, but not fast enough to stop a single ship from escaping, leaving Henuva behind.

Joining teams with their adversary, Dax, Kane and Dalia had no choice but to rely on the man that once hunted them so they could put down the horrors both parties had accidentally unleashed on the galaxy.

Everything came to a head when the mutated cordyceps transformed certain races to make them far more dangerous than normal. The worst was the low-level psychic species of Jarog. Once infected, an unnamed woman gave sentience to the malevolent fungus while gaining control of those infected near her, Dax being one of them.

Through quick thinking, insane plans and the surprising sacrifices of a one-armed space elf, the Junkyard crew was able to isolate the infection. They launched the ship into a nearby star before seeking treatment for Dax with their newly expanded crew.

1

NEGOTIATIONS

An image of a stern Valtukta flickered to life on the internal display of the cockpit. His dark ashen skin was unburdened by wrinkles. Silver hair was pulled back, draping down his shoulders without a strand out of place. It was his black eyes and golden irises that gave away his age.

They darted around the bridge, looking at the Junkyard’s crew along with their expanded team members. A sneer pulled itself across his face. He cleared his throat. Dax stepped forward, positioning himself next to Ashley.

“Crew of the Junkyard, I’ve come with two options for you. Surrender Henuva and his spy and we will let you go. Or you can try and resist us and all of you will die.”

Dax looked back at the robotic-armed scientist. Sandrina moved from her spot at the controls and stood next to him, taking a half step back.

“Why do you want…” Dax started.

Ashley smacked him in the stomach, cutting him off before waving at him.

“Get me one of those translators,” she demanded.

“Ashley, I don’t think this is a good…” Kane started.

Ashley shot him a look, shutting him down. Dax looked at Mark, who shrugged and pulled one of Bleeze’s translators out of a pocket. He walked over to his mom and handed it to her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dax whispered.

“Do you want to make her angry?” Mark asked.

“I’d rather make her angry than get blasted by a small fleet,” Dax countered.

“It’s hard to be secretive when you two are whispering less than two feet away from me,” Ashley said.

She took the translator while glancing at her data pad. Holding it next to her head, she leaned on one elbow before waving Dax and Mark out of her way. Her son slid to Dax’s side and crossed his arms, drumming his fingers against his bicep.

“You’ve been chasing my son and his friends for years. What assurances can you provide that’ll make us believe you won’t keep chasing them the second you get what you want?” Ashley asked.

The man on the screen turned his attention to Dax.

“Are you really willing to let this woman speak for you?” he asked.

“Considering I know what one of her shoes to the head feels like, I’m going with yes,” Dax replied, glancing at Ashley’s footwear. “And if I were you, I’d take what she has to say seriously, otherwise, she’ll find a way to get her boot to your skull. It’s not pleasant.”

“No, it isn’t,” muttered Josh, Dalia and Henuva in unison.

Dax motioned at them while still looking at the commander.

“Even her own crew is a little scared of her,” he added. “I’m going to let her take point on this one.”

A chuckle rose from the commander’s lips before turning his attention back to Ashley. Dax shot Mark a look. The young man picked up on Dax’s racing heart, surge of adrenaline and tightened features.

“Whatever she’s planning, roll with it,” Mark whispered.

“Scared of an old woman?” The commander chuckled.

“She’s not old,” Mark snapped.

“I may be getting close to the top of the hill, but I’m still in my prime,” Ashley replied, readjusting herself in her seat. “Now, why don’t you tell us what assurances you’re willing to give us that you won’t just kill us when you get what you want?”

“I could order my fleet to open fire on you now,” the commander replied.

“You could, but my daddy taught me to follow the Ten Commandments. The sixth one is particularly important,” Ashley replied.

“And what is this sixth commandment?” The commander chuckled again.

“It’s ‘don’t kill,’” Ashley replied. “Now, it’s not talking about active war zones, or in self-defense. It means just don’t take a life if yours isn’t in immediate danger.”

“That’s a rule of weakness if I’ve ever heard of one,” the commander mused.

“If I may,” Henuva chimed in, raising a hand. “I’ve been fighting these people for years. ‘Don’t kill’ isn’t a rule for them; it’s a rule to protect you. Out of every race under the purview of the Valtakuntera, Terrans have the greatest propensity for violence and death-dealing.”

Dax watched carefully as Henuva raised his robotic hand. A lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow it, but the knot in his gut just produced another one.

“Before we get too off track,” Ashley jumped back in. “My daddy used to tell me ‘don’t kill, but if you have to, at least learn their name first.’ My name’s Ashley.”

“How amusing, your species’ little morals. Henuva, just because you’re inept in dealing with these insects doesn’t mean that I will be,” he replied. “I’m Dalrachion.”

“Nice to meet you Dalrachion. Now about my question. What’s stopping you from just killing us anyway?”

“You’ll have my word as a commander of the Valtakuntera,” he replied.

Ashely nodded at the response. Dax fought the grimace that tried to pull itself across his face. Internally, he screamed for her not to trust that.

“Well, I’ve seen what your people did to my boy and what you’ve done to countless worlds, why should I take you just on your word?” Ashley asked.

“Because I am a man of honor,” Dalrachion replied.

Dax noticed Henuva stifle a scoff. Ashely kept her eyes locked with the space elf before her.

“My daddy used to say that we should let people’s actions speak louder than their words,” Ashley replied. “But if they tell you they’re a monster, believe them. Forgive me for being curt, but your actions point to a man without honor. You started chasing us from our home system knowing full well there wasn’t another Valtukta on board.”

“Perhaps I knew you’d lead me to him,” Dalrachion countered.

“Perhaps, but unlikely. My daddy’s wisdom tells me not to trust this deal.”

“Maybe I should be speaking with your father, then, if he’s so wise.”

“You can’t. Lung cancer took him a few years back,” Ashley explained without blinking an eye. “How about we start someplace small and build a foundation of trust?”

“As any good negotiation should.”

Dax bit the inside of his cheek so hard, it hurt. Ashley motioned toward Henuva and Sandrina.

“Why just those two all of a sudden?”

“Henuva’s crimes have made the Valtakuntera look weak. He is to be made an example of, as is the rest of his organization, meaning the Bastet.”

“Okay, so you’re going to execute them for the escape of a few people your empire kidnapped to begin with?” Ashley asked. “If anything, your crimes against others should give you no claim to anyone. And since Henuva and Sandrina’s crimes were against this crew, who have taken more than their pound of flesh and have chosen to forgive, I don’t believe you have any claim to him.”

She looked around the room with a raised eyebrow.

“We can have a vote on it if you’d like.”

Dalia’s hand shot up. She hesitated for a second then lowered it. Kane and Mark kept their hands down before turning toward Dax.

“Like Ashley said, I’ve taken my pound of flesh,” Dax said.

He looked at Dalrachion and stepped next to Ashley.

“Among our people, we have a form of punishment that might satisfy your empress’s demands. It’s called a life debt. We saved his life more than once. Our gods demand his life now belongs to us and our descendants until his dying day,” Dax suggested.

He crossed his arms. Glancing down, he readjusted his stance. He caught a circular motion being made by Ashley’s finger.

“Imagine,” he continued with a chuckle. “The unending disgrace of one of your finest scientists being forced to serve his experiments and their children for the rest of his life. That’s a fate worse than death if you ask me. I don’t know your empress, but from what I’ve heard, that’s a punishment she would appreciate.”

The commander’s eyes narrowed. He pursed his lips before placing his hand over his camera. Dax’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard, it hurt. He looked around the crew. A hint of terror gripped Sandrina. Henuva kept his eyes locked on Dax while Josh inched toward him.

“Did you really just Qui-gon Henuva?” he whispered.

“Demanded by da gods it is,” Dax replied in his best Jar Jar impersonation. “Trust me.”

Josh nodded. He took a step back. Kane inched his way behind everyone and disappeared down the ship’s stairs, toward the Junkyard. Ashley gave Dax’s leg an approving nudge. He turned his attention toward the screen as Dalrachion removed his hand from his camera.

“I have conferred with our empress’s representative. She’s willing to consider the offer given his existence is made worse than death,” the commander said.

Dax nodded. He motioned toward Henuva while walking closer to the screen.

“Did you get a report on what happened the day of our escape?” Dax asked.

He glanced down at their scanners: A silent warning of hundreds of weapons warming up on the Valtakuntera. He leaned against the controls with his index fingers to draw everyone’s attention to it as subtly as possible.

“I did. I’ve seen what you’re capable of and it has impressed even our most esteemed interrogators,” Dalrachion replied.

“Good. I know how to keep doing that while maintaining his life and ensuring its quality as low as galactically possible,” Dax said.

“Seriously?” Henuva whined.

“No offense, big man. My job is to make sure this crew remains alive,” Dax explained. “And I don’t trust them to hold their fire the second we hand you over. But if I give them my word to have some fun with you for the rest of my life, it may just keep my people alive.”

“You don’t trust my word?” the commander asked.

Dax pushed off the console and crossed his arms. He shook his head when Kane’s voice chimed into his secure translator feed.

“The Junkyard is ready to decouple. Say the word, we detach and outrun them,” he whispered.

“No,” Dax replied to both men. “But I do trust your word if you know he’s going to be in a living nightmare for the rest of time.”

“You do realize you are, in fact, outgunned? You have no leverage here,” Dalrachion mused.

“If I may,” Ashley cut in, raising a hand. “I would like to share one more thing about our people.”

Dax turned toward Mark’s mother. She leaned forward in the chair, resting her elbows on the armrests.

“What other useless anecdotes do you wish to share, old woman?” Dalrachion hissed.

“Haven’t even hit fifty yet; not old,” she countered. “Do you know the exit velocity an object needs to leave our home solar system?”

“Why does this matter?” the commander asked, rolling his eyes.

“Just humor me,” Ashley replied.

“Most solar systems require about thirty thousand miles per hour.”

“Same with ours. Good job on knowing that, by the way,” Ashley mused. “Do you know what happens to a two-thousand-pound object going six times that speed only to be accelerated by the gravitational slingshot of two gas giants and a black hole?”

“No, what?” Dalrachion grumbled.

Ashley’s data pad started to beep. A grin crept across her face, sending a chill of fear down Dax’s spine.

“Let me tell you about Operation Plumbbob,” she said.

2

PLUMBBOB

Dalrachion rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Open fire,” he muttered with a wave of his hand.

“That’s your last mistake, commander,” Ashley replied.

A blinding flash of light erupted from the side of the first Valtakuntera ship. Dax winced. Fire consumed the commander’s video screen before cutting off. Whatever hit the first ship punched all the way through, sending a wave of shredded metal raining into the other ships. They turned, trying to escape before their engines failed from the cloud of debris.

Dax’s jaw dropped. The cockpit fell silent. Everyone turned toward Ashley. She sat with one leg crossed over the other. She tapped her chin while giving off a soft series of clicks with her tongue and shaking her head.

“He shouldn’t have been so rude,” Ashley muttered. “Here’s a gentle reminder to all of you: always be polite.”

Dax swallowed hard. Henuva’s jaw dropped. A wry smile spread across Dalia’s and Mark’s faces while Sandrina disappeared into the stairwell.

“Yes, ma’am,” Henuva whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“That’s my lady,” Josh mused.

“Dang, Ashley, is that what you were working on?” Dax asked, pointing at the data pad.

“It was. Can one of you open a channel to the entire fleet, please?” she asked.

Dalia walked over to the communication station. She inspected the controls, and after a few seconds, pressed a button. A notification of completed connection flashed across the screen.

“Good day, my pointy-eared friends,” Ashley said.

Her voice was calm and even. There was a terrifying quiet to it that only a disappointed parent had the ability to master. She leaned back in her seat, relaxing into its build.

“That was a gift from Earth. It wasn’t a weapon, nor was it ever intended to be,” she said. “It was simply a cap to an experiment that was deemed ‘scientifically interesting.’ Something you ought to know about our people. When something is deemed scientifically interesting, the process is repeated. That means, in two days, another fifteen-hundred-pound piece of steel will come slamming into your ships at nearly three hundred thousand miles per hour. Judging from the looks of your crafts, they won’t be able to stand another blow like that.”

Ashley stood up, resting her hands on her hips.

“Why would we do an experiment like that twice you might ask? It’s rather simple. As humans say, once you pop, you can’t stop.”

At her nod, Dalia cut off the channel. Dax looked at the carnage that sat before them. Escape pods fired out of the first and second ships while what looked like retrieval vessels emerged from the third and fourth to aid in the rescue. He pointed at the carnage while raising an eyebrow.

“Did you just Pringles them?” he asked.

“It’s a good chip, a better slogan, and in this situation, the very definition of accurate,” Ashley replied.

“That amount of damage would’ve disabled their weapons, but not for long,” Henuva said, his voice quaking. “At the very least, that last ship will have weapons hot in five minutes.”

“What are the chances of them following us?” Dax asked.

“Protocol dictates they get every survivor off their command ship before they leave. That’ll likely take at least one day,” Henuva replied. “And that damage cut straight through their command deck. They don’t have a commander any…”

Henuva trailed off. Dax’s eyes widened. He pointed at the destruction.

“Their guns’ll be ready long before final confirmation. We need to leave, now!” Henuva said before Dax could speak.

Dax turned to Dalia. Before he could nod for her to return to the Junkyard, she was already well on her way. He walked over to Josh while Mark said goodbye to his mother and shook the scientist’s hand.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dax said softly.

“Why are you thanking me?” Josh chuckled. “I’m finally able to get out from behind my stuffy desk and go on an adventure that makes Miss Frizzle’s look like an advanced calculus class. I should be thanking you.”

“No bad-talking the Magic School Bus. That was a great show. And it was my pleasure. We’ll take out the remaining fungal weapons and make enough noise that the Valtakuntera shouldn’t be bothering you anymore,” Dax replied. “When you see my brother again, tell him I love him, and I miss him.”

Josh scoffed and shook his head.

“They’ve got your brother so busy, who knows when I’ll see him next,” Josh mused. “He’s been recruited as the lead on extraterrestrial technology and integration in human infrastructures and the military complex.”

“Eesh, that’s a mouthful.”

“Yeah, but ETIHIMC doesn’t really roll off the tongue easily either. But I’ll be sure to give him your regards.”

“Thank you.”

Dax gave his friend a quick hug before turning toward Ashley. Mark desperately tried to back out of her embrace, reminiscent of a cat fighting a hug.

“I love you too, Mom,” he whined. “Let go, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Just let me love on you. I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again,” Ashley countered.

“I know, but we’ve got weapons that’ll be powered up and blow us into oblivion if we don’t get out of here fast,” Mark replied.

Ashley relented. She let go of her son before giving him a kiss on the top of his head. Mark rushed toward the stairs. Henuva and Sandrina followed closely behind. Dax walked over to her. She let out a sniffle and wiped a welling tear from her eye.

“I promise, we’ll take better care of him in the future,” he said.

“I know,” she replied softly. “It’s just hard letting go of your only child. Just having him in orbit was hard enough. Now he’s halfway across the galaxy. That’s a little harder. He’s making a difference, though, and finally living up to the potential I’ve always seen in him.”

Ashley looked up at Dax. She placed a hand on his arm. The weight of her contact bore down on him like a boulder despite her touch being light as a feather.

“I know Kane is heavily involved in his development as well, but you’ve been a good father to him.”

Those words hit Dax in the chest like a war hammer. His jaw clenched while his chest tightened, pulling the air from him.

“With you by his side, I know he’ll turn out okay.”

Dax placed his hand on hers. He nodded and forced a smile.

“That means a lot,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Ashley nodded at the door before cracking a smile.

“Now get out of here; go cause trouble and make this galaxy a little bit better of a place.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dax replied.

Releasing Ashley’s hand, he turned to Dalia, who waited for him at the top of the stairs. Reaching her side, they started to descend the spiraled steps of the ship.

“This doesn’t seem very safe,” Dalia said.

She looked down the center spiral with no handrail.

“Absolutely not, especially in a combat situation,” Dax replied. “But Decombres doesn’t seem like one to follow OSHA regulations, so here we are.”

They passed the medical bay. Dalia leaned behind Dax and picked up a large metal transport case that sat just inside the door.

“Backup scanner and reader,” she said. “Josh thinks we could use it more than them.”

“He’s not wrong. Hopefully, they won’t get thrown around as much as we do.”

They continued down, passing the chow hall and entering the brig.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” Dalia asked.

She approached the open airlock docking door.

“Any more headaches or twitches?”

“Not since my treatment,” Dax replied.

He looked at his hands and forearms. His muscles were noticeably more defined. His blood vessels protruded just under the skin. There was a sleeping strength in him he hadn’t felt since the day he’d woken up on Henuva’s table.

“And I’m feeling strong. A lot stronger than normal.”

“As long as you’re not feeling bitey, we’re all good, then.”

Dalia climbed through the open door. Once she was in the Junkyard, Dax followed her. He shut and locked Josh’s ship behind him, climbing through the airlock. The shift of artificial gravity’s pull turned his stomach. He shook it off while climbing out of the mess hall’s booth and closing its airlock behind him.

“We’re in and ready for separation,” Dax shouted.

Dalia helped him put the seat back on its frame. They walked onto the main deck. Mark sat in the pilot seat. A calm washed over Dax while he worked.

“Preparing for separation,” Mark called out.

Kane stood over Mark’s shoulder, watching how to decouple the ship. Through the viewport, the Valtakuntera ships continued to scramble for the destroyed vessels while repair ships tended to those heavily damaged.

Dax reached out, taking Dalia’s free hand. She interlaced her fingers with his. His heart skipped a beat. She gave him a gentle squeeze. A deep thunk reverberated through the ship. Separating, they drifted away from the disk they were attached to.

“We are clear on our end,” Mark called out. “How are we looking on yours?”

“We’re clear on ours,” Josh replied. “Our thrusters are positioned away from your ship. We’ll break away first and let you know when we’re clear.”

“Copy that.”

Silence fell on the Junkyard. Dax glanced around. Sandrina was nowhere to be seen, while Henuva kept a respectful distance.

“We are clear,” Josh’s voice called out over the radio.

“Good to hear. Have safe fungus-killing travels. Keep us updated, and Mom, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mijo,” Ashley replied.

The Junkyard’s engines roared to life. Mark turned the ship. Before he could run any calculations for a jump, Kane pointed at the navigation computer.

“I’ve already put our coordinates in.”

Dax watched as Mark double-checked them before selecting them and sitting back in his seat.

“I’ll be,” he scoffed. “That’s the most efficient route I’ve seen yet. It looks like you’ve been picking up on my trade since I was gone.”

“You’re learning ours; it’s only fair we learn yours,” Kane replied.

“Don’t lump me in on that,” Dax called out. “I’m not built to be a pilot. I know the basics, but every ship I fly tends to crash horribly.”

“I think there’s a difference between the ships crashing horribly and you crashing the ships horribly,” Dalia whispered.

“I stand by the collisions I’ve caused,” Dax replied. “And I’m good with on the ground stuff. That’s simple. What I’m not good with is burning everyone up because I miscalculated our approach by point-three degrees.”

“It’d take more than that to cause a ship like this to burn up,” Henuva chimed in. “True, it seemed to have been destroyed in one way, shape or form with alarming frequency. Your repairs and enhancements to it have made it quite the impressive piece of equipment.”

Mark pushed forward on the leap drive. As they made their jump, everyone turned to look at one another with slight confusion on their faces.

“Did you just…” Kane started.

“I mean, it’s impressive for a flying bucket of bolts. Junkyard is truly an apt name for this rusty vessel,” he added, looking around with a grimace.

“And there it is,” Dalia scoffed.

3

CUP O’JOE

Dax yawned. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes while drinking a cup of coffee at their circular table. Dalia sat next to him while Henuva cautiously inspected his cup. The leap drive’s soft hum provided a soothing background noise over the groggy groans of the ship’s early risers.

“We’ve been jumping around for over a week. Are we safe to actually make a stop yet?” Dalia muttered.

“Even if they launched probes, there’s no way they should’ve been able to track us this far,” Dax added.

“You’re right, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Henuva replied.

He took a drink of the coffee and grimaced.

“I don’t get how you people like this stuff. It tastes like dirt.”

“It always tastes like dirt the first time. It’ll grow on you,” Dax said.

“Even if they did find us on-world, I’m sure we’d figure out a way to remove the threat effectively,” Dalia chimed in.

“You’d think so, but after their last encounter with you guys where this one crashed a ship into them, the empire changed protocol,” Henuva said, taking another sip and wincing. “If there’s a target that’s wanted dead or alive on a planet, there’s no longer an away team that’s sent to try and bring them in.”

“What happens now?” Dalia asked.

“Glass the area from orbit.”

Dax stifled a laugh while finishing his cup. Henuva raised a brow.

“What’s so funny?”

“If you’ve never done something where they’ve had to put up a sign because of you, have you ever really lived?” Dax asked.

“They didn’t put up a sign; they changed regulations,” Henuva countered.

“Which is several steps up from a sign,” Dax explained, beaming with joy. “One everyone sees, the other everyone has to obey.”

“You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” Dalia asked.

“Very much so,” Dax replied.

“Two thousand people died that day,” Henuva jumped in.

Dax’s smile vanished. A pang of guilt pulled at him. He shrank back into his seat.

“A little less proud now,” he said before tilting his head to the side. “We’ve fought you several times after that.”

“I said their last encounter, not our last encounter,” Henuva corrected. “After that day, I was stripped of all rank and title. The only contingent of men or equipment that was provided me were volunteers and ships I’d purchased or salvaged myself. Before meeting you, I was a very wealthy man; after, I have just the clothes on my back.”

He took another drink and looked into his cup. Dalia flashed her tusks and made a sarcastic groan.

“You don’t really get to complain about losing everything when these guys were fine just leaving it be,” she said. “Your pursuit of them forced them to defend themselves, making things end the way that they did.”

She took a drink. Dax held out his mug. She gently clanked hers against it.

“I’m with her on this one,” Dax said.

“I’m not complaining,” Henuva countered with a shake of his head. “Just explaining. It was my own hard-headedness that lost me everything. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until near the end of his life that I decided to actually listen to my ancestor’s teachings.”

“You’re telling us your one-eighty turn is from a conversation with your great to the ninety-third power grandpa?” Dalia asked. “And we’re supposed to believe that?”

“It wasn’t a single conversation.” Henuva chuckled. “It was just shy of four hundred years of teachings and lessons. It wasn’t until the Valtakuntera proved him true that they didn’t care about me. I was just a cog in their machine, replaceable, as you’ve seen with Tylira. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until it was far too late that I set my pride aside and listened to him.”

He shrugged and took another large drink of his coffee before putting the mug down. He winced, swallowed then coughed.

“So gross,” he whimpered. “You could write a whole book series on it. Not sure how interesting it’d be, but it’s worth a thought.”

“What are you guys doing up so early?” Kane asked.

He walked down the steps, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Marching toward the brewed coffee, he poured himself a cup.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Henuva said.

“I saw him trying to brew a pot very wrong. I wasn’t going to let him waste valuable grounds,” Dax chimed in.

“Smart move. Wasted grounds is a death sentence on the Junkyard,” Kane replied.

“And you know me, I don’t sleep well without my Battle Bonded at my side.”

Dax flashed her a smile and gave her a nudge with his shoulder. Henuva rolled his eyes.

“Are these two always this nauseating?”

Kane stared down Dax and Dalia. He took a long drink from his mug before shrugging.

“I don’t know. We’re usually too busy fighting bugs for me to notice,” he replied.

Henuva’s expression went blank. Dalia leaned toward the Valtukta.

“In their culture, that’s what you call a burn,” she whispered. “We can get you some ice for that if you’d like.”

Dax watched the flabbergasted Valtukta. He finished his coffee with a satisfied sigh while sitting back in his chair..

“Short, brutal, efficient. I appreciate it. I have a feeling I’ll learn a lot on this ship.”

“Yes, but if we even get a whiff that you’re not one hundred percent on board with us, we’ll put you in the engine room,” Kane said, motioning toward Dax. “I’ve seen him spit radioactive saliva into a Valtukta’s face. A room full of the stuff would do very bad things to you, I’d imagine.”

“It very much would,” Henuva replied. “You have proved to me that you’re better people than I thought. You have my support and loyalty until my dying day.”

“Good,” Dax said, sliding out of his booth. “Now we only need to get Sandrina on board.”

“She is,” Henuva said, confusion filling his tone. “You don’t trust her?”

“It’s easier to trust someone who’s shot you in the face than stabbed you in the back,” Dalia replied, getting up as well.

Dalia made her way to the main deck. Henuva glanced from Dax to Kane and back.

“Is her presence on this ship going to be a problem?” Henuva asked.

“Not for me,” Kane replied.

Dax shot the soldier a look.

“You’re biased for obvious reasons,” Dax said.

“What do you mean?” Henuva asked.

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing our well-seasoned friend over there isn’t allergic to cats.”

“That’s not the reason,” Kane jumped in. “It’s a simple case of falling dominos. She was loyal to you, your entire organization is wanted dead by the Valtakuntera, and you two are the last of that organization. She’s not dumb enough to try and negotiate with your empire for her safety.”

“There are other entities out there,” Henuva said.

“The senate? We’ve dealt with them and have friends in its highest positions,” Kane explained.

“She won’t go to bounty hunters; they report to the highest bidder. Which, again, is the Valtakuntera,” Dax chimed in. “That really only leaves the Ryshy. From what I understand, they deal mostly in trade with larger star systems, and from what I gather, they hate your people almost as much as we do.”

“There are other independent entities out there who would pay handsomely to add a few fugitives like this scraggly group to their lists,” Henuva replied.

“And are those types of people ones you can trust to keep their word?” Kane asked.

Henuva paused for a few seconds. He pursed his lips before shaking his head.

“No, they’d betray you the second they get a chance for their own nefarious purposes.”

“So, at the very least, we can count on her not to betray us anymore because everyone in the galaxy she could go to is worse than you,” Dax mused, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Good to know we live in that crappy a society.”

“I swear if you start painting your face, I’m launching you out of an airlock,” Kane warned.

“I wouldn’t blame you for doing it,” Dax replied. “You want to change our course and head to Dal’no’nuuur?”

“You know how to fly this thing. Why don’t you?” Kane asked.

“I have a passable knowledge of the ship. I’m more like the last string. If you and Mark are out of commission and there’s absolutely no one else, then there’s me.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Kane countered.

“I think he does,” Henuva said, raising a hand. “Can we at least cross train him a little more first? If we don’t we may run out of transports sooner rather than later.”

“You see what you did there? You got Henuva agreeing with me,” Dax cut back in. “That should tell you all you need to know.”

Rolling his eyes and taking a drink of his coffee, Kane walked toward the main deck.

“Fine, but with how small our crew is, it’s important we all learn as many positions on this ship as possible,” Kane replied. “And become proficient in them.”

“Should we check in with Sandrina to see what positions you’re proficient in?” Henuva asked.

Dax chuckled and looked at the Valtukta.

“Good one.”

“Thank you.”

Henuva beamed with pride at the compliment. Dax made his way to the main deck as well. He looked at PITA, positioned on his new charger under the pilot’s station. His eyes were off, the charging complete light blinking on the tip of his nubby tail. Dalia stood next to the pilot seat, looking into the swirling vortex in front of them.

“Are you ready to see home again?” Dax asked, approaching her.

“This is my home now,” she mused. “But it’s always nice to visit where I came from and see how they’re flourishing.”

She looked back at Henuva before taking a step back to get a better look at him and crossing her arms.

“You may want to stay in your quarters, though. Our people know the Underbeasts were Valtakuntera weapons. If they see you, they may be on edge. And if they figured out you were the one behind the bugs, they’ll kill you for sure.”

“That is a strong argument,” Henuva said.

“Wait. Humans have been fighting the bugs for well over four hundred years,” Kane pointed out.

He started to calculate the coordinates to Dal’no’nuuur.

“You’re only three hundred and fifty. How are you responsible for the bug project if that’s the case? The math isn’t mathing for me.”

“Time dilation,” Dax jumped in immediately. “The Dal’no technology is clearly able to let us move around negating that. No other race had that level of tech before they fell. I’m betting our half-pointed-eared friend here is much older than he claims from a calendar perspective.”

Henuva chuckled, wagging his finger at Dax.

“I can see how I kept losing to you. You’re intuitive,” he said before addressing Kane once more. “I was born six hundred years ago. My people didn’t have the drives they do now. Every time we’d make a jump, the galaxy would age faster than us. It wasn’t until we ran into the Dal’no, attacked them and took an older version of their drive technology.”

“How long did it take your people to integrate the technology of mine?” Dalia asked.

“Another hundred years or so. So while on a calendar, I’m six hundred, I’ve only lived three hundred and fifty years,” Henuva clarified.

“Ugh,” Kane groaned, rubbing his temples. “That’s the one thing I don’t like about all this stuff. It gets complicated up here. Just give me a mission and something to salvage or shoot.”

“Speaking of salvage, I may have a way to make your ship a little more powerful,” Henuva said. “There may or may not be an old Valtakuntera research station that was destroyed, where we worked on experimental technology. And as I was the only staff member given permission to leave, I’m the only one who survived when it was destroyed by an experiment malfunctioning, meaning all that next generation tech is ripe for the taking.”

4

NEW ISSUES

Dax stepped out of the Junkyard and onto the landing pad. A self-driving vehicle pulled fuel past him and toward a small fleet of single-person ships. Each was enmeshed in the cloaking cover. Malcoth jogged from the control center, a sound cannon strapped to his back and armor covering everything but his head.

“What brings you back here?” Malcoth asked.

“There was a small hiccup with the weapon we gave you to make. We need to destroy what’s left of it,” Dax replied.

“Hiccup?”

“He means it found a way to spread from the Underbeasts to sentient species. It turned them into homicidal monsters that want to spread across and destroy the galaxy,” Dalia added, walking down the ramp.

She froze and looked at Malcoth. Dax noticed her eyes narrow. The warrior stood taller, seeing her. He rolled his shoulders back and held his head high.

“Armor’s not permitted on the landing pad. Has there been a breach?” Dalia asked.

“Not of the lab,” Malcoth replied. “But that computer virus you took care of only cleared a portion of the planet. There are other infected terraformers that have gone beyond our control.”

Dax looked back at Dalia, then to Malcoth.

“We’ll suit up, help out any way we can.”

“That’s appreciated, but we don’t need you to fight. What we need is that kid who seems to be able to speak with computers. If he can find the error in the code here and fix it, it’ll repair the rest of the robots planetwide.”

“Where’d the virus come from?” Dalia asked. “Has there been a division in the people?”

“Henuva!” Dax shouted.

His tone was that of a scolding parent. He looked back into the ship before clearing his throat. From behind the wall that held their hover bikes, Henuva’s metal arm waved.

“We couldn’t have done it even if we wanted to,” the Valtukta replied. “Our technology is so far behind theirs, if we tried to hack it, it’d fry our systems. That’s why we used the bugs.”

“We?” Malcoth asked.

Dalia stepped forward, putting her hands up.

“One of our new crewmates was part of the empire that put the Underbeasts on our planet. He’s turned against his kind and is helping us stop them,” Dalia explained.

Malcoth’s eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened and his hand slid toward the sound cannon slung over his shoulder. Dalia took a step toward him with a frown deepening on her face.

“Don’t. If it wasn’t for him, our entire crew would’ve been killed recently,” she said.

“Will the Wing Cutter vouch for him?” Malcoth asked.

“I can go get him,” Dax replied.

He turned and started up the ramp. Reaching the top, he looked at Henuva, who shot him a sheepish smile.

“What part of they don’t need to know about you do you not understand?” Dax asked.

“I’m curious what level of technology they’re at,” Henuva countered. “They were so advanced, I wasn’t sure my bugs would actually work on them.”

“They’re advanced enough now to kill you in worse ways than Tylira will,” Dax replied. “Unless otherwise instructed, stay out of sight and don’t talk to anyone.”

“With the back open, it’s kind of hard to keep hidden,” Henuva said.

Dax pointed at the fake airlock.

“Then tuck yourself away in there until you hear the back shut.”

Relenting, Henuva made his way to the fake airlock. He opened the door and let out a surprised grunt while Dax walked toward the ladder.

“Before you go up there, you may want to take a look at this.”

Dax turned to see Henuva holding the brood’s filtration masks. His eyes widened and a lump formed in his throat.

“That’s a good catch,” Dax muttered.

“Yeah, may want to destroy those as well.”

Dax rushed toward Henuva and grabbed the masks. Holding them outstretched, he descended the ramp before offering them to Dalia.

“Almost forgot about these ones.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been bad,” Dalia replied with a grimace. “Did you remember to check the airlock?”

“Not me,” Dax said. “Henuva.”

After Dalia took them from him, he turned and rushed back into the Junkyard, only to see Henuva leaning back in the fake airlock with his hand on the internal latch.

“I can get claustrophobic,” he pointed out. “I’ll pull it shut the second I hear feet on the ramp.”

“Okay, but if they see you, I can’t protect you,” Dax countered.

“Fair enough.”

He pulled the door a little further closed while still leaving a crack. Dax climbed the ladder and made his way to the main deck. Kane finished the post flight checks and sat back in his seat, hands resting on top of his head.

“Malcoth wants to see you,” Dax said. “He only trusts the word of the Wing Cutter to confirm that Henuva is on the level.”

“That’s surprising, given Dalia’s a warrior as well,” Kane said, standing up. “And the daughter of the previous chief.”

“I think he believes her; I just think he wants to see you again.”

“Of course he would. Who wouldn’t want to see me,” Kane mused.

He let out a forceful yet playful laugh and made his way toward the ladder. Dax looked around the quieting ship before walking toward the crew quarters. Kane’s door was left half open.

Dax moved to shut it. He froze. Sandrina sat on Kane’scot. Tears streamed down her cheeks while she wrote in a booklet. He stood in silence for a few moments watching her. Her words were in Bastet. Able to read them, he decided not to.

As he moved to push off the door, it shifted, causing its hinges to creak. Sandrina’s head shot straight up. Her eyes were wide with fear. She slammed the book shut. Once they made eye contact, her shoulders dropped, and she let out a relieved sigh. With a sniff, she wiped a tear from her eye.

“I’m surprised to see you,” she said softly.

“I was just going to shut the door. Kane doesn’t usually keep it open, but I guess I know why it was,” Dax replied. “I’d ask you if you were okay, but something tells me that’d be a dumb question.”

“What gave that away?” she asked with a sniff, recentering herself.

“Seems pretty self-evident,” Dax teased. “Look, even if I didn’t believe that you actually were sorry, the fact that Kane’s even letting you in his room alone means he’s got to have some trust in you. If he does, I do, and so will Mark.”

“Dalia will never trust me again. She was the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had,” Sandrina whispered.

“Dalia’s not irrational. She’s hurt. Give her time to come around.”

“What if she doesn’t? I can’t be on a ship with someone who hates me as much as she does.”

“If you’re worried she’s going to try and get even…”

“I’m not,” Sandrina interrupted. “She’s too good of a woman to do something like that.”

“If she’s too good of a woman to do that, you know she’s too good of one to hold a grudge for long,” Dax explained. “She knows you can’t leave the ship. If you do, the Valtakuntera will catch you and I’m sure you know what they’d do to you for our location.”

“I’d never betray you guys like that, ever again.”

“I know. Just keep in mind that people sometimes say things in anger they don’t mean and tend to come back and apologize for it later. If she’s not talking to you, she may be just trying to find the right words to use. Give her time. She’ll come around.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sandrina asked.

“There’s an oath in picture books my people use as a form of entertainment. It may sound stupid, but it’s still relevant and true either way,” Dax said, pushing off the door. “It ends with ‘when all seems lost in the war of light, look to the stars, for hope burns bright.’ No matter what, there’s always hope.”

Sandrina forced a smile and nodded in agreement at his comment. Dax looked around the room.

“Where’s Lord Pawdemort?”

“She stayed with Josh.”

“That’s unfortunate. It would’ve been nice to have someone stick around and annoy PITA,” Dax muttered. “Do you want me to close the door?”

“If you would,” she replied.

Dax shut the door. Through the silence that settled through the ship once more, he heard Mark seemingly talking to himself. Dax passed the bathroom and medical while walking through the crew corridor to Mark’s room and knocked. No response, but he was still talking. After a few more knocks with no response, he grabbed the door latch.

“Please don’t see what I think I’m about to see,” he whispered to himself.

With a pull, the hinges squealed, and the door swung open. Dax froze, pulling a stupid face. Horror spread across Mark’s. He yanked a set of cobbled together headphones off his head. He spun from the metal body partially assembled in front of him.

“Dude, knock!” Mark shouted.

“I did. You didn’t answer,” Dax shrieked.

The shock wore off. He turned away from the body and put a hand up to block his peripheral view.

“What is that?”

“It’s the animatronic Decombres and Bleeze gave to me,” Mark replied.

“Why are you making it so lifelike?”

“Do you really want to ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to?”

“No!”

“Then don’t ask questions. Why are you here?” Mark asked.

“The Dal’no need your tech expertise to help with a computer virus that’s spreading across their system.”

Mark grabbed a blanket and threw it over the robotic torso. He stood up and grabbed his staff.

“Okay, let’s see what they’re dealing with, then.”

He joined Dax in the corridor before shutting the door and locking it. Dax looked up at one of the Junkyard’s speakers. A disgusted chill ran down his spine. He shuddered before pointing at the door behind them.

“Did you make the ship’s translator moan on purpose?”

“I told you, I’m not the one who controlled that. It was a genuine, honest-to-goodness accident,” Mark replied. “I had nothing to do with it, but I think I did find where the coding went wrong so I can make the needed alterations.”

“Everyone is going to thank you for that,” Dax replied. “Especially Kane.”

“I am going to miss watching the old guy squirm.” Mark chuckled.

They made their way down the ladder, into the cargo bay. Nalath stood with his delegation next to Malcoth, greeting Kane. Dax and Mark descended the ramp and greeted the chief and his council. Mark gave Malcoth a hug while Dax moved next to Dalia.

“What’s causing the virus?” Dax asked.

“Apparently there was a cyber war back when our people were at their apex. One of the computer viruses got out and is spreading,” Dalia explained.

“Was it a Nigerian prince asking for money?” Mark asked. “Because that tends to get a lot of people.”

“What is a Nigeria?” Nalath asked.

“Nothing,” Mark mused with a wave of his hand. “Take me to your computer and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do for it.”

With that, the chief, delegation and Mark made their way toward the path that led to their city. Malcoth and the rest of the team watched for a few seconds.

“Ten bucks says he’s going to mess up their linguistic programs.” Kane chuckled. “Think this one’ll be moaning too?”

“No, I think he’s finally found his outlet,” Dax replied.

“Do we want to know what that means?” Dalia asked.

Dax shook his head.

“You’re going to tell us anyway, aren’t you?” Kane grumbled.

“Hey, if I have to look at the overly anatomically correct robot bodyguard he’s building, the least you can do is hear about it,” Dax said.

5

REMNANTS

“This is like Camryn Manheim’s hat from Scary Movie 3,” Dax said.

He looked around the underground facility. It’d grown to accommodate the new Dal’no’nuuur that were rescued.

“It gets bigger every time we see it.”

“Mark, if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to our systems,” Nalath said, motioning to behind the stairwell column.

Mark turned toward Kane, Dalia and Dax. He pointed the same direction as the chief.

“I’m going to head this way. It’ll probably take me a little longer to clear the code than it will for you guys to destroy the samples. When you’re done, feel free to come find me.”

He left with the delegation, pulling Dax’s attention to Malcoth.

“I’m assuming you moved the weapons since we were here last?”

“They’ve moved five times with our expansions,” Malcoth replied.

“We’ve grown that much in number?” Dalia asked. She rocked to the tips of her toes; a tentative smile tugged at her lips while the masks swayed from tremors in her arms.

“The Dal’no are twenty thousand strong,” Malcoth replied. “Some of our new advances have confirmed no more pockets are hiding around the planet. Nearly every able-bodied woman of age has chosen to bear children. Our numbers are expected to double in the next three years.”

Dalia’s face beamed. She turned and gave Dax a passionate kiss fueled by her excitement. He returned her affections, only to notice Malcoth looking away with a grimace.

“That’s wonderful news!” Dalia exclaimed after breaking their kiss.

“Where’s your fallback?” Kane asked.

“Our what?” Malcoth enquired.

“Your fallback. If your entire race is in one spot, it makes you very susceptible to an extinction-level event,” Kane explained. “You have spaceships. It’d be smart to send colonies to different star systems on mundane worlds that won’t attract more powerful, envious species.”

“Like the Valtakuntera,” Dax added.

Malcoth’s expression dropped. He looked between the Junkyard members before starting to walk through the bustling lab.

“You want us to break apart after just becoming whole?”

“I never said we wanted you to,” Kane elaborated. “But that it would be the smart move. Your people appear to be the most adaptable race we’ve seen. Think of the good you could accomplish once your ranks have been restored.”

“Ranks?” Malcoth scoffed.

He slid behind a weapon-building bench. Dax glanced over the scientists’ shoulders. They were working on a one-handed version of the sound cannon. Dax continued to eye it after they passed. Dalia’s elbow brought him back to the conversation at hand.

“We’re not warriors or explorers,” Malcoth explained. “We’re hunters, defenders. Aside from Dalia, we don’t gallivant around the stars looking for a fight.”

“I’m not saying that you are,” Kane continued. “Just that spreading out could prevent another near extinction of your species.”

“Maybe when your people start doing it, we can talk. Until then, don’t tell us how to survive. We’ve been doing just fine without your help.”

“We haven’t, though,” Dalia chimed in. “It was integrating human warriors that slowed the Underbeasts and eventually led to their eradication. And their species is starting to spread across their solar system."

"Yeah, Josh, a friend of mine, told me they were sending the first robots housing human consciousness to the fourth planet in our solar system to try and get its mantle and core spinning again,” Dax explained. “And we already have hundreds of thousands of humans living on our home world’s moon. Even though our technology is nothing compared to yours, we’re spreading out.”

Malcoth rolled his eyes and huffed. He approached an armory door. Unlocking it, he grabbed the handle with both hands. Pulling with all his might, the Dal’no moved the five feet of solid steel open. Dax eyed the marvel, nearly speechless at the multi-ton piece of metal before pointing at it.

“Can you close that real quick?” he asked.

“Why? What we need is in here,” Malcoth replied.

“I want to try something.”

“Is this some sort of human joke?” Malcoth asked, looking at Dalia.

She looked at Dax. He shook his head before pointing toward his bicep. Her brow raised before nodding.

“Ah, okay. No, it’s not. Dax wants to test himself.”

Malcoth grabbed the door and pushed it shut with a loud clang that caused some of the workers to startle. Dax turned toward Kane.

“Give it a pull.”

“I don’t want to give it a pull,” Kane argued.

“I don’t care. Give it a pull.”

“Why not have Dalia do it?”

“Because you’re my control group for this little scientific venture. Now, give it a pull.”

“Does anything ever satiate the curiosity of a scientist?”

Kane stepped toward the door. He grabbed its massive grip with both hands.

“I’m actually a linguist,” Dax corrected.

“I know that,” Kane hissed back.

He threw all his body weight backward, pulling as hard as he could on the door. A vein bulged down the center of his forehead. Kane’s face reddened. His jaw clenched while he put every ounce of strength into the barrier. It moved a half inch before Kane’s feet slipped, causing him to fall. He caught himself on the wall. Dax stifled a laugh while he corrected himself and stepped away from the door.

“That thing’s not moving,” Kane said.

Dax approached the door. He planted his feet, grabbed the handle with his left while placing his right hand on the frame. Taking several deep breaths, he pulled on the door. Every muscle fiber in his arm and back contracted. Fire surged through them while the pressure on his right sent a wave of pins and needles through his bones.

As he clenched his teeth, Dax’s body started to tremble. He felt blood rushing through his veins while his heart hammered in his chest. Letting out a primal roar, he put everything he had into the door. It surrendered to him, swinging open.

Pride swelled in him as he took a step back. His fingers remained in a gripping position while fire burned through his forearm. Grabbing the digits, he shook them out, regaining their use.

“Ha, ha, I can move a ton of steel.” He chuckled.

The muscle attached to his scapula tightened. His left shoulder jerked back before a surge of white-hot pain exploded across his back, stealing his breath. Dax fought through the pain to force himself to breathe. Dalia rushed in front of him, inspecting him for injury.

“Nod if you think you collapsed a lung,” she said.

Dax opened his mouth to speak, and nothing but a wheeze came out. His head felt like it was about to pop.

“It’s not that serious,” Kane jumped in.

He ran his hand down Dax’s back before stopping at the tightened muscle. With an ornery chuckle, he pushed on it, forcing a shout of pain to cut through Dax’s tightened airways.

“Oh, you jerk,” Dax wheezed.

“It’s a cramp. He’ll be fine.”

Malcoth’s head tilted to one side. His brow knitted together.

“A cramp? What is that?”

“Easy answer,” Dax wheezed. “Overuse a muscle and it tightens as much as it can in revenge.”

“What’s it feel like?” Dalia asked.

“Nothing horrible, just getting stabbed in the back,” Dax replied.

He pulled himself back to his feet. His heart continued to slam against his ribcage like a jackhammer as the pain subsided. Mobility returned to his arm. His back remained tight, threatening to cramp once more if provoked.

“That sounds horrible,” Dalia said.

“It’s better than a calf cramp first thing in the morning,” Dax countered.

Kane shuddered at the comment.

“Nothing is worse than that,” he muttered.

“Is there anything I can do?” Dalia asked.

“Unless you got bananas readily available, no,” Dax said. “Without our healing factor, it’d be good in about an hour. With, I’ll guess five minutes.”

“Okay, now that we’re done showing off, can we do what you came here to do?” Malcoth asked.

“Right, yeah, incinerator. Lead the way, big man,” Dax said.

Malcoth walked into the armory. One wall held the relics of humanity. The others showed the Dal’no evolution from their swords and axes to the brutally massive rifles. Their display covered two of the three remaining walls with plenty of empty mounts to expand to.

Directly across from their entrance was a second door. Dax read the cuneiform as ‘explosives.’ Malcoth approached and scanned his palm and eye on a pad in the wall. Several low clunking noises sounded from around the steel. The Dal’no turned toward Dax.

“Would you like to try this one?” he asked. “It’s heavier.”

“Please don’t tempt him,” Dalia begged. “I’d rather him stay in one piece.”

“My back’s pretty angry with me at the moment,” Dax replied. “Maybe next time.”

Malcoth grabbed the second door and pulled with all his might. He was able to open it barely wide enough to squeeze through. Dalia followed, narrowly getting through herself while Dax and Kane walked into the next room normally.

Hundreds of bombs were sorted by size across the warehouse. Some were small enough to be thrown by hand. Others were big enough, one of their ships would have to drop them. On the far end, fifty yards away, in a separate compartment, stood a sign.

“Bioweapons. How many did you guys make?” Dax asked.

“Just yours. Our scientists figured they were dangerous enough to warrant their own safeguards,” Malcoth replied.

“What kind of safeguards?” Dalia asked.

“The only way to open that is with the handprints of a Dal’no and a human.”

“That’s pretty smart. What happens if one of those hands isn’t human?” Kane asked.

“That’s why Dalia’s here,” Malcoth replied. “It’ll incinerate everything in that bunker. It’ll burn so hot and so fast, even the compressed air will be consumed before it has a chance to detonate.”

He made his way across the bunker. Dax followed closely behind. He rolled his shoulder forward then back to loosen it while Dalia and Kane followed.

“You don’t have to clear it with the chief or his little council of elders?” Dax asked.

Malcoth reached the door. He placed his hand on one pad. It glowed green. A second flickered to life on the other side of the opening.

“You created this weapon,” Malcoth explained. “We only manufactured it. Our rules state that, as its progenitors, if you want it destroyed, it will be done.”

“The very definition of ‘I’ve brought you into the galaxy and I can take you out of it’,” Dax said.

He pressed his hand against the scanner. A warm wave washed over his palm, accompanied by a light. The door hissed and slid open.

“I like it.”

Dalia stepped toward the open door and threw the masks into the bomb-filled room. With a tap of his finger, Malcoth caused the barrier to drop once more. Dax removed his hand from the pad and took a step back.

“The honor’s yours,” Dax said.

Dalia approached the pad and placed her hand on it. The scan took place before the light turned red. A deep beep rang through the bunker.

“Warning, unauthorized access to Terran bioweapons. Initiating purge.”

Dalia and Malcoth dropped their hands. A muffled roar of flame sounded through the steel. Heat radiated from the bunker, giving it a soft red glow for almost a minute. Eventually, the noise stopped, and the bunker’s walls returned to their metallic color.

“All specimens have been destroyed. Zero atomic structures of biological matter detected in bunker.”

“Well, that was easy,” Kane said, crossing his arms. “You don’t have any samples in any of these labs?”

“Absolutely not. Nalath insisted every spore or growth be in that room. Congratulations, you’ve just authorized the elimination of an entire species from existence.”

“Trust me, that’s not a bad thing,” Dax said.

“You’d agree if you’d seen what we have,” Dalia added.

“Now that that’s done, why don’t we go see what trouble Mark’s getting into,” Kane suggested.

6

I.T

Malcoth led the crew back across their underground lab. They passed the stairwell and went on to a field of servers. Approaching the department, Dax tapped the transparent wall that surrounded the data cores. It felt like the metal walls on Tachyon.

“This one is always a little tricky; I usually have the tiniest bit of trouble finding the door controls,” Malcoth said, running his fingers over the exterior wall.

“Do they move it much?” Dalia asked.

“Not the door, but the servers and the lab equipment do,” the Dal’no replied. “Making a reference point hard to…”

He stopped and pressed on what looked like thin air. A light beamed under his hand, causing a door to become visible and slide open.

“There it is,” he said with a grin.

He and Dalia walked through the door. Dax looked back at Kane, whose eyes darted across the ceiling, then the floor.

“You good?” Dax asked.

“Why not just use the seams as a point of reference?” Kane asked.

He pointed at the floor next to the door. A small lip raised off the floor, stopping where Malcoth walked through.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Dax replied. “I think the bigger question is, why have walls up to protect the servers if they’re just going to be invisible?”

“With how open this race is, it’s not for security. My guess is the walls are clear, so everyone has eyes on the inside in case there’s a fire or someone is doing something sketchy,” Kane explained. “Walls stop the fire from spreading, and it helps keep it cold in there.”

“We don’t know that Dal’no servers give off as much heat as ours,” Dax countered.

Kane motioned toward the door. Dax walked over and put his hand through the frame. A chill ran over his skin from the near thirty-degree difference. He nodded.

“Okay, I think you might be right on the air conditioning,” Dax relented.

He stepped into the room and took a step forward—into a wall. A dull pain radiated from his knee and across his forehead from the surprising impact. He staggered backward, rubbing his head.

“Like one of those carnival mazes from hell,” he grumbled.

“It’s better than the mirrored ones,” Kane jested.

Dalia waved as she and Malcoth walked in front of Dax on the far side of the wall. They turned into the server room before Dalia pointed to the right. Kane was already a few steps ahead and making seemingly random turns.

“Look at the floor, remember?” he called back.

“I remember, I just didn’t think they’d make an IT-style not-so-glass, glass maze,” Dax replied.

He looked around, finding the barely perceptible seam on the ground. He started to follow it while keeping his left hand on the see-through wall so as not to repeat the rapidly dulling pain of his first impact.

“At least we don’t have a demon clown chasing us,” he grumbled.

“Is your nose bleeding?” Kane asked.

“I hit my forehead and knee, not my nose,” Dax replied.

He made a few turns. The pain in his shoulder was finally starting to subside.

“On the other hand, I can confirm that the cramp went away.”

“That took longer than expected.”

“It did, but if you think about it, when we get hurt, we’re ravenously hungry for a good long while afterward. We need the calories to fuel the repair,” Dax explained. “I’m probably low on whatever chemical helps prevent cramps or relieve them.”

“Remind me to get you a banana next time I get a chance,” Kane teased, walking past Dax and offering him a little wave.

“What are the chances another planet has developed bananas?” Dax asked.

“You’re the professor, you tell me.”

Dax made the last turn and jogged straight ahead. He caught up to Kane, who laughed and pointed at his forehead.

“Looks like it got you good.”

“Eh, shut it,” Dax grumbled.

They entered the server room. Following Malcoth and Dalia, they turned down a row of sleek, black spires of metal. A few yards in, Mark sat at a station with Nalath and one of the advisors.

“Is it done?” Mark asked.

His eyes remained locked on the screen while one hand typed away on a touch screen and the other fidgeted with his staff.

“The last of our stored weaponized fungal weapons are gone,” Dax replied. “How are things looking here?”

“Well, this is definitely malicious code. But we’ve got a bit of an interesting source,” Mark replied.

“And that is?” Dalia asked.

“It’s Dal’no code, so no one offworld is messing with you, but…”

Mark stopped the screen of rolling glyphs and pointed at one of them.

“This is one of the control pylons for your robots. It’s where the code was unleashed.”

“What does that mean?” Malcoth asked.

“It means someone manually uploaded it to this pylon. It’s tried to spread, but your firewalls are doing wonders to keep it in check.”

“Since you can see it, shut it down,” Kane ordered.

“If it was closer, I would,” Mark replied. “But this pylon’s on the other side of the planet.”

A silence fell over the room. Nalath turned to Malcoth, drawing everyone else’s attention to the hunter.

“That’s too far to make on foot,” the chief said, accusation filling his tone.

“I agree, but none of our transports have left the landing pad,” Malcoth replied.

He raised his left arm. Pressing on his vambrace, he held it to the computer terminal. A smaller screen appeared in the upper left corner of Mark’s workstation. Dax took a close look at the information. He tried to read it as quickly as he could. It was slower than he would’ve liked.

“Is that a manifest?” Dax asked.

“It is. Of every transport movement, ground or air, since I was given the job,” Malcoth replied. “As you can see, nothing is out of place.”

Nalath stood tall, his gray hair draping down his body.

“Then why has there been a data breach in a place only accessible by long-range transport?”

“Before you two get into an accusation game, there are about a dozen different reasons this could’ve happened,” Mark replied. “None of which is anyone’s fault. A rogue Dal’no, for example.”

“They’re all in or around this city,” Dax cut in.

“Okay, what about your terraformers?”

“They don’t have the ability to activate that part of the system,” Malcoth explained.

“It could just be damaged,” Dalia chimed in. “Like the one I took care of.”

“No, this was intentionally… huh…” Mark trailed off.

“Is that a good huh or a bad huh?” Kane asked.

Mark swiped on the screen again and pointed at another breach in data.

“It looks like the code was taken from a terminal right here.”

He leaned forward. Dax watched as his nimble fingers flew across the controls while he tweaked his staff’s holographic projection with his other hand.

“And that is a thousand miles away from the upload site,” Mark muttered.

He continued to work for a few more seconds. His hand dropped from his staff while the other fell limp on the control console.

“Well, that isn’t good,” he muttered.

“What isn’t?” Dalia asked.

“The time from download to upload was an hour and a half. Over a thousand miles, it’s not possible outside of a spaceship,” Mark replied.

“Yet none have been taken,” Malcoth added.

“Which means someone is messing with you guys,” Dax snarled.

“If they’ve got access to your planetary systems, they’ll probably know if you send anyone after them,” Mark said, looking up.

Everyone looked at Nalath. His features drooped and eyes glassed over at the news.

“Invasion?” he asked.

“Unlikely. They would’ve sent every robo-monster you’ve got to attack if it were an invasion,” Kane added.

“What if we went to investigate?” Dalia asked. “Our ship’s not integrated into the Dal’no systems. They won’t know we’re coming until they’re in radar range.”

“That’s great, but then they’ll see us coming too,” Kane said. “That’s usually how the whole hunting something down goes.”

Mark spun around in his chair. He grabbed his staff and tossed it to his other hand. With a fluid motion, he pulled up a Junkyard blueprint.

“You guys rebuilt our ship with your technology. From what I saw on that landing pad, you’ve mastered the cloaking device for your ships, and we have one heck of a power source. What do you say to letting us borrow that tech and we can sneak up on whoever’s messing with your system and take them out.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dalia said with a shrug.

“Do you have any idea how long it would take to transition that much tech over and integrate it into your ship?” Nalath asked.

“We don’t have a lot to spare, either. There’s no guarantee the mesh will even work,” Malcoth added.

“With my help, a full team will take eighteen hours,” Mark said. “Less, if my assistant gets involved. As for the mesh, I’m sure I can find a way around the limitations.”

“Who’s your assistant?” Malcoth asked.

Dax shook his head.

“If it is what I think it is, you really don’t want to know.”

“What do you need us to do?” Dalia asked.

“You guys? Nothing. You don’t know enough about the system to be of use. PITA will be helpful. Why don’t you guys just take a break, have some R&R and I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Kane immediately turned toward Nalath.

“Is the plantation still where I showed them to put it?”

“It is. We even built a roastery next to it as well as a processing station. Right now, we’ve stockpiled almost a ton of beans.”

“Okay then, I am out of here,” Kane said.

He turned and rushed out of the winding maze and back up the stairs. The translator against Dax’s skull vibrated.

“Henuva, are you there?” Kane asked.

“Who’s there? What’s there? Am I here? Yes, I’m here, at least I think I’m here, I may be over there. Why?” the Valtukta replied, his sentence crammed together into a single word.

“Never mind,” Kane replied. “Keep where you’re at.”

The translator cut off. Dax looked up at Dalia.

“I guess he’s not as resistant to caffeine as we are.”

“I guess not.”

Mark kept at his work. Dax watched as the young man bit his lip while working furiously. After a few minutes, he sat back and clapped his hands together.

“Chief Nalath, you are welcome. I just pulled all remote access from every node you’ve got out there,” Mark explained. “It won’t stop them from doing their job, or affect their performance in any way, but what it will do is stop anyone from accessing them out there without prior authorization from in here first.”

“Does that mean whoever is messing with our system has been booted out?” Nalath asked.

“Absolutely not. Whoever it is still has access, but I have set it so that once we regain control and purge the virus, it’ll automatically lock down.”

“Impressive, good work,” Nalath replied.

Mark turned toward Dalia and Dax, motioning at them.

“What are you two going to do?” Mark asked.

He shut off the station and stood up, leaning on his staff.

“Get blessed again? Maybe see if her old place is still there? Have a little fun?”

“I would like to see my father,” Dalia replied.

Mark’s playful attitude dropped. His shoulders slumped as he took a half step back.

“I bet you feel like a jerk now, don’t you?” Dax teased.

“Yeah, making jokes at my dead dad’s expense?” Dalia added.

“I’m really sorry,” Mark said with a grimace. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive about that.”

Dalia reached out and gave Mark a pat on the shoulder. Her strength difference knocked him to the side, nearly throwing him off his feet.

“Learn to pick up on dark humor,” she teased.

“You don’t joke about that stuff,” Mark whimpered.

“I find that level of self-deprecating dark humor to be a powerful coping mechanism,” Dax replied. “Learn to master it, and you’ll be fine no matter what the galaxy throws at you.”

Mark’s cheeks flushed. He rolled his eyes, sighed and shook his head.

“You guys are not cool.”

“We try,” Dalia said.

She looked at Malcoth, then Nalath.

“Is there a database of the terraformers I can access?” she asked. “If we end up having to fight some, it’s best the whole team knows the weak spots.”

“I’ll get you the data pad,” Nalath replied.

The chief turned to Dax, narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Are you still just using that pistol of yours?”

“I find most of our fights end up in close quarters,” Dax replied. “I favor something I can maneuver quickly.”

“Good. Would you be willing to give one of our experimental weapons a try?” he asked, nodding in approval with a knowing grin.

“Absolutely, I am,” Dax said.

7

ROASTERY

Dax stood, leaning against a building with his arms folded across his chest. A Dal’no with blue tinted skin and fins where hair usually was walked by him. She watched him closely, her pitch-black eyes protected by a pair of specialized goggles.

“Good afternoon,” he said in Dal’no.

He offered her a friendly smile and nod.

“You’re a strange one,” she replied.

Her voice was hoarse, as if not used to being used above water.

“I’m not Dal’no,” Dax replied. “I’m human. I’m Dalia’s Battle Bonded.”

He motioned toward her where she was paying her respects to her father’s memorial. He was holding her axe in hand now.

“You speak our language well.”

“I had a good teacher. Were your tribe from cave lakes?”

The Dal’no looked at Dalia, then the statue of her father.

“Legend says we were once a sea tribe,” she explained. “Then the Underbeasts attacked, and we were forced into the fresh water of the caves. Many could not handle the change. Those that did gave way to us. We can survive in both fresh and salt.”

“I’m glad you got to return to the surface. I hope one day you get to experience the seas.”

“Those will take time to dig out. Estimates are five years before they can be considered oceans. From there, another ten before they’re back to where they were.”

When she spoke, Dax got a peek at her teeth. Every single one was like a needle. Her tusks were like spearheads. Unlike other Dal’no, they didn’t protrude over her upper lip but settled into cavities set between the teeth of her upper jaw.

“With your life spans, that must be a blink of an eye to you,” Dax remarked. “I’m happy to know that the work on this wonderful world isn’t done.”

“I’m just glad I got to see out of the caves.”

The Dal’no turned and continued walking through the city. Dalia turned from her father and returned to Dax’s side. She grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Are you?” Dax replied.

Dalia looked at the statue and nodded. She turned toward the closest tree line and started to walk. Dax followed at her side, their fingers interlaced.

“How’s he doing?” Dax asked.

“He said the back pain’s been gone for a while, which is good,” Dalia replied. “But that he’s happy I finally found my peace.”

“Lucky,” Dax playfully grumbled. “Back pain’s the worst.”

“I thought knee pain was the worst.”

“They’re tied for equal amounts of suckage,” Dax replied.

They passed the barrier of the original city. Metal structures immediately gave way to log houses and tree trunks twenty feet across. A series of interconnected homes hovered dozens of feet overhead, attached by rope bridges.

Dax’s eyes darted around the smaller structures. He watched carefully while a half dozen other races of Dal’no walked from here to there with tools, food, or children playing tag.

“I feel like I should let you know, if I hear ‘yub nub’ come out of those trees even once, I’m gone,” Dax said, eyeing the hauntingly familiar structures. “Like, not to the Junkyard gone, off world gone.”

“I don’t think there’s anything that makes that noise here,” Dalia replied. “Why would you run?”

“Because I don’t have a little gold man I can float around with my space wizard powers. And they eat people. The only reason Leia had that outfit change is because those furry little nightmare creatures ate someone that was her size.”

Dalia looked down at him. Her brow furrowed and her lips turned down.

“Is this one of those Earth things?”

“Yeah, it’s one of those Earth things,” Dax relented.

They continued for a few more minutes, making their way up a hill. A sweet and smoky scent filled the air. Rounding another massive tree, they slowed to a stop. A swath of the forest had been cleared out. The trees were used to build four large structures and retaining walls that created dozens of flat growing platforms.

Thousands of coffee trees covered the hillside in perfect rows. Dax’s jaw nearly hit the ground in disbelief. His fingers slipped from Dalia’s as he stepped forward.

“It usually takes a coffee tree five years to bear fruit,” he said, turning back toward her. “How’d you get so many to mature so quickly?”

Dalia looked around at the gargantuan forest that surrounded them.

“The same way we got thousands of years of growth in less than a decade,” Dalia replied. “Technology.”

“With some of that, we could bring Mars to life and make it habitable in a few months.”

“Our people had an alliance once. Maybe after the Valtakuntera are sorted, we can have one again,” Dalia suggested.

“Do you really think Nalath would let that happen?”

Dax started toward the plantation. Dalia quickened her pace to catch him.

“Humanity already saved our planet once. If you have a hand in keeping it safe forever, I’m sure he’ll go for it.”

“And if we bring technology back that elevates Earth, maybe we’ll get pardons.” Dax shrugged.

“I thought you never wanted to return.”

“I don’t, but Mark’s still young enough to have a pretty good life there. He’s got family and friends. He deserves that bit of peace he may not be able to get with the Junkyard.”

Dalia paused for a few seconds. She put an arm around Dax and gave him a squeeze. Her pull on him brought a smile to his face. Her scent of wildflowers filled his nostrils. She gave him a kiss on the top of his head.

“You’re a good man, Dax,” she said softly.

“I try,” he replied.

The roar of a furnace pulled their attention back to the plantation. They looked up from the foot of the hill to see a billow of smoke rising from one of the buildings. They walked up the incline offering friendly waves and smiles to the workers.

Muffled shouts of glee rose from the building, drawing uncomfortable glances from the Dal’no outside. Approaching the door, Dax held it open for Dalia to enter. The cheers grew louder, echoing through the roastery. An overwhelming smell of fresh coffee beans filled Dax’s nostrils. He instinctively took a deep breath.

“Vanilla, caramel and a hint of cherrywood,” Dax said, exhaling. “He’s making a light roast.”

“You can tell that just from the smell?” Dalia asked.

“Increased senses,” Dax said, tapping his nose. “Besides, I was a college professor. I’d have to drink coffee to stay on top of all my grading. Blonde roast has the most caffeine, so that’s the one I drank every day. I became very familiar with its notes.”

They followed the roar of fire and Kane’s shouts through the building. There were several small fire pits with bean-filled meshes on them. Dal’no stood next to each pit with a rake and drew it through the beans to give them an even roast.

“All of the pots he made were overwhelming in taste,” Dalia said, watching the process.

“That’s because he grabbed dark roast bags. It’s strong in flavor but has less caffeine than every other roast type,” Dax explained. “The caffeine gets cooked out the longer you roast them.”

“And you know all of this because of the coffee shop you went to?” Dalia asked.

“I know all of this because I’ve been stuck in a spaceship with Kane for the last six years.” Dax chuckled. “Any downtime, especially before we met you, if it wasn’t survival techniques or how to make things from scratch, it was a five-hour lecture on the intricacies and science of properly roasting the perfect batch of coffee.”

The heat rose as they moved into a back room. Another whoosh sounded from a furnace so overengineered, Doctor Seuss would’ve been envious.

“Dax, Dalia, over here,” Kane shouted.

They looked to their right. Kane stood next to a bellows with handles as big as his arm. Dal’no tossed dead coffee trees into the furnace. Kane pulled on the device. A burst of air rushed into the flames, causing them to roar.

Making their way over, Dax raised his hand to block the heat from his face. Kane stepped away from his work. A Dal’no stepped in to continue. The soldier wiped his brow with his sleeve, leaving a dark streak of sweat across his arm.

“I could’ve sworn you were making a batch of beans,” Dax said.

“I am.” Kane chuckled. “We’re using this monster to make a hundred-pound bag of blonde for the Junkyard.”

Dalia looked at the machine. Tongues of flame licked out of the furnace, accompanied by waves of heat.

“You’re not going to burn them to a crisp?” she asked.

“No, they’re in a special rotator on the other side that precisely controls vented heat to them. Once they’re perfectly cooked, a sensor will drop them into a bag for us,” Kane explained.

He turned and pointed at one of the pipes that carried through an adjacent wall.

“All the excess heat is re-routed to a steam room that moves turbines and helps create a little bit of extra power for the server room as an emergency backup. This place is truly amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re having fun,” Dax said. “Will it be done within the next sixteen hours?”

“I’d say the next twenty minutes. Why?”

“Because in sixteen hours, we’re wheels up to find whoever is messing with our systems,” Dalia explained. “Chances are, the closer we get to the node, the more aggressive the terraformers will become. We will need ammunition that can punch through their outer shells.”

Kane looked at the other sweat-covered roasters. He pursed his lips and tapped his foot.

“Do you know where the landing pad is?” he asked.

The roasters nodded.

“When the bag’s done, bring it to the crappiest-looking ship out there, and I’ll make you some steaks as a thank you.”

Two of the roasters hesitated. They looked at their hands and slowly offered two thumbs-up.

“Good job, did it right this time,” Kane said.

He gave them a thumbs-up as well. Turning back to Dalia and Dax, he rubbed his hands together.

“I can make the bullets you’re asking for, but not with the materials we’ve got on the Junkyard. PITA’s 3D printer is a little too slow for our needs, so I’m going to need access to one of the Dal’no forges.”

“You never told me you knew how to forge,” Dax said.

“I don’t, at least not good enough to be worth the steel I’d use,” Kane countered. “But I do know how to make bullets and gunpowder, which I’ve shown you. But we need the bug chitin as fuel to make the Dal’no steel harder than my brass solids.”

“You want to make tank busting handgun ammo?” Dax asked.

Kane scoffed and shook his head.

“Absolutely not,” he said, placing a heavy hand on Dax’s shoulder. “I want to make tank-busting M4 and Fat Mac ammo. And you two are going to help me do it.”

8

RELOAD

“Careful. Don’t pull on that too hard. You’ll rupture the casing,” Kane called out.

Dax looked down at the Fat Mac round he was loading, pulling gently on the reloader’s handle. He felt the handle make a small, sudden drop. Lifting the lever, he picked up the obscenely large round. Placing it next to the rest, he watched Kane pull his mold from the blue flames and hand it to Dalia.

She took the handle and dipped the mold into warm oil. It bubbled and hissed, giving off a seafood and steak scent. Dax took a deep breath and cracked a smile.

“You guys still have Underbeast oil?” Dax asked.

“And meat,” the smith replied. “Enough for another two months before we have to start hunting the wildlife.”

“Nobody tell Mark.” Dalia chuckled.

She pulled the mold free and placed it on a table. Kane pulled it open with a set of tongs and removed a half dozen bullets.

“Don’t tell me what?” Mark asked.

He marched around the corner in his armor. Dax looked at the faintly blue tinted metal. Cross-hatched lines covered the suit from head to toe that weren’t there before.

“What’s with the new design?” Dax asked.

“Oh, this?” Mark asked, looking at them. “Sex appeal’s not my specialty. Nonetheless, I’m dressed up in my fishnets just in case it gets hot.”

He put his helmet on. The netting flickered with electricity, dancing over Mark’s armor. Dax stepped away from his work. Hardly believing his eyes, he watched the young man disappear.

“Huh.” Kane chuckled. “I thought our suits didn’t have the power to fuel something like that.”

“They don’t,” Dalia replied.

Light next to Kane warped with a few dull sparks. Mark reappeared; his helmet retracted.

“I’m a Predator!” he exclaimed.

“Out of all of the things to be proud of, that’s not one of them,” Dax teased. “Seriously, how’d you get that to work?”

“Oh, it doesn’t,” Mark cackled. “I was fully charged and now I’m down to ten percent. This thing eats through a charge faster than Joey Chestnut goes through hotdogs.”

“Does it at least work with the Junkyard?” Dalia asked.

“Visibly, no; through radar and other detection systems, yes,” Mark explained. “So, let’s just hope they don’t look out their window.”

Mark looked around the forge. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded at the multiple cases of ammunition they’d made.

“Looks like we’re ready to go.”

“You’re done with the ship already?” Kane asked.

“Already? It’s been a full eighteen hours. We’re done and ready to go. I came up here to make sure you guys were okay.”

Dax looked at the mounds of ammunition and shells they’d made. He smirked and poured what little gunpowder he had left into its designated safety container.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess. How long is it going to take for us to get to the node?” Dax asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“That’s long enough for me to load a few magazines,” Dalia pointed out.

Kane picked up his mold. He dipped it in the oil once again to finish cooling before giving it a wipe with one of the smith’s cloths. He slid it back into the box fastened inside of one of the three crates they’d hauled from the Junkyard.

“Well then, let’s get packed up and get going,” he said. “We’ve got a bad guy to hunt.”

Grabbing Kane’s supplies, Dax helped pack them back into their crates to Kane’s specifications. Once the last latch was locked in place, Dalia gave her thanks to the blacksmith for her help.

They picked up the crates and carried them down to the landing pad. Dax looked up at the ship while Malcoth and a handful of other Dal’no inspected their handiwork. Black lines crisscrossed most of the Junkyard’s outer hull. Ascending the ramp, they placed the crate in its designated place and locked it to the floor.

“You guys say bye to Malcoth for me,” Kane said, making his way to the ladder. “I’m going to get things warmed up.”

“She can warm herself up,” Mark chimed in.

The engines let out a low hum, drawing everyone’s attention.

“That’d better not be Henuva,” Kane warned.

“Or Sandrina,” Dalia added.

“It’s not, I swear. The Junkyard is able to warm herself up now. You’ll understand when we get up there,” Mark continued.

“I imagine I won’t get a chance to say goodbye after you leave,” Malcoth called out.

The massive Dal’no marched up the ramp. He unclipped a leather holster from his hip holding one of the experimental sonic pistols. He wrapped the straps around the weapon. Reaching the cargo bay, he extended it toward Dax.

“You fight like a demon, but it never hurts to have a second gun,” Malcoth said.

“Or a third,” Kane added.

Dax reached out and took the weapon before offering Malcoth a hand. Both men gave each other a firm handshake.

“You’re not wrong there,” Dax said.

“Thank you, all of you, in advance for helping with this. It’ll save time and a lot of Dal’no lives.”

“You brought language to our people,” Dax replied. “Language that let us grow into the species we are today. The Dal’no and humanity have a long history of helping one another. I think I can speak for the rest of the crew when I say we don’t plan on abandoning that history.”

“I agree,” Kane added.

“Besides, this is a chance to fight giant robots. Who wouldn’t want that?” Mark asked. “I mean Chris Hemsworth turned himself into one just so he could do this exact thing.”

“We’ll keep you posted on our progress,” Dalia added. “Just keep the main line open and let us know if any robots get close to the city.”

“We’ve had a few,” Malcoth replied. “The drones are efficient at taking care of them.”

“Good. Keep up the noble work of protecting our people.”

Malcoth nodded before motioning toward Dax with one hand and touching the gaps in his earlobe with the other.

“I will. Make sure this one stays alive and doesn’t lose my piercing. I paid too high a price to be embarrassed like that.”

“They’re always around my neck,” Dax replied.

He reached into his collar, grabbed the leather strap around his neck and pulled the pieces of metal up for him to see.

“We’re all good.”

Dax lowered them back into his shirt.

“It was good seeing you again, I look forward to the next time we meet,” Kane chimed in.

“And I’ll make sure your system is completely secure so this doesn’t happen again before we leave,” Mark added.

“May the World Mother bless you,” Malcoth replied.

“And you,” Dalia added.

Malcoth fired her a smile. His gaze on her lingered for a few moments before he turned and marched out of the ship. Dax walked over to the controls. Pressing the button to call up the ramp, he watched the warrior leave. With a clang, the ship closed completely. Dax walked back into the cargo bay and looked at Dalia, fighting a grin.

“He is beyond in love with you,” he teased.

“You say that like you wish to embarrass me,” Dalia replied. “Like I didn’t already know that. He’s loved me since we were children.”

“And you two never…”

Mark trailed off before making a thrusting motion with his elbow and clicked his tongue. Dax rolled his eyes. Before he could tell Dalia she didn’t have to answer that, she replied.

“He could never beat me in a fight,” Dalia mused. “Nobody could. I was the best fighter of the tribe.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed for a few seconds then widened.

“Wait, so if someone’s the best fighter and no one could beat them, does that mean they’d never…”

“Mark,” Kane interrupted. “That’s beyond impolite.”

“It’s okay,” Dalia countered. “It’s nothing private or embarrassing. But to where you were headed, Mark, yes.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Mark grumbled. “Obviously not literally, but that sucks bad.”

He huffed before turning and climbing the ladder.

“Not sure what you’re complaining about,” PITA’s voice rang down the shaft. “Even if you were to get someone to beat you in combat, you’d still die unloved.”

“PITA, my dude, too far,” Mark whimpered.

“Parts of you are so blue that Captain Robert Falcon Scott and his entire crew are jealous,” PITA added.

“PITA, shut up,” Dax shouted up. “You really need to reprogram him.”

“Not sure I got that last one, but I agree,” Mark replied.

“An explorer who, with his entire crew, froze to death trying to explore the South Pole,” Kane chimed in.

“Dude, not cool,” Mark huffed, looking up the ladder.

“At least not as cool as Captain Scott,” Dalia chimed in.

Dax bit his cheek to remain silent while Kane let out a snort. Mark shook his head and disappeared up the ladder.

“That was a good one.” Dax snickered.

“Thank you, I try,” Dalia replied.

She leaned over and gave Dax a kiss before offering him an ornery grim.

“I’m glad you’re the one that beat me,” she whispered.

She moved to give him a love tap on the butt. He jumped a little, pins and needles surging through his left cheek.

“Same here,” Dax replied.

He gave her a tap back. She moved to the ladder and climbed as well. Kane turned toward Dax, who kept his eyes locked on the Dal’no. The second she disappeared, he leaned forward, rubbing his hindquarters.

“Did that really hurt?” Kane asked

“I think she sometimes forgets how strong she is,” Dax groaned. “It’s like getting stung by a hundred angry hornets.”

“Why not tell her to dial it down a bit?”

“She’s self-aware enough to regulate,” Dax replied, the stinging gradually subsiding. “If it happens again, I’ll bring it up. But I’m not about to complain about her initiating physical contact.”

“You’d better not,” Kane chuckled. “That’s how you enter the wasteland of loneliness.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, old man,” Dax teased.

He made his way to the ladder and started to climb.

“Who needs PITA when we’ve got you,” Kane called up, following.

Dax reached the main deck. PITA stood across from the door, waiting for them. Stepping onto the flooring, he leaned over and gave the robo-corgi a scratch behind the ear.

“You look good,” Dax said.

“You look like crap,” PITA replied.

“Is that the best you can do?” Dax asked. “Kind of seems like you’re reaching.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather me tell you that not even Keanu Reeves finds you breathtaking?”

“There’s the PITA we all know and tolerate.”

Kane stepped off the ladder as well. He shut and locked the door. They walked onto the main deck. Dalia’s head was in her hands, shaking from side to side. Dax looked around to see a bag of freshly roasted coffee beans the size of a ten-year-old sitting next to the armor pods.

Before Dax could make a comment, the robot Mark was working on stood up out of the pilot’s seat. Dax immediately threw a hand up to shield himself from her hyperrealism.

“Is there a problem?” the robot asked.

Dax’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the feminine voice.

“Junkyard, he really got you in there?” Dax asked.

“Affirmative,” the android replied. “And he built my body to my exact specifications.”

“Are you surprised that when a pervert interacts with AI, it comes out to be a pervert?” Henuva’s muffled voice rang from the bathroom.

“He has been in there for the better part of the day. Something about the coffee not agreeing with him,” the Junkyard explained.

“It is known to make one poop,” Mark added, tapping the android on the arm. “You said you were going to wait to get warmed up until I could watch so I could see how you worked.”

Everyone turned toward him. Dax’s stomach turned. He grimaced at the youngest member of the crew.

“You don’t get to talk anymore,” Dalia groaned, keeping her face covered.

“I’m with her,” Dax added.

9

RIDE

Dax finished clipping himself into his armor. He slung the sonic pistol holster around his waist, letting it rest on his left hip. He drew it and inspected the weapon. Like most other Dal’no pieces of technology, it was intuitive. The safety was obvious. There was no magazine, only the grip and a trigger.

“How am I supposed to reload this thing?” Dax asked.

Dalia, in full gear, walked over to him. She grabbed the base of the pistol grip and slid it to one side, revealing a charging port.

“You can use my wire. Yours should only take about five minutes to recharge, judging by its size,” she replied. “I’ve got it set up in my armor pod.”

Mark continued to pilot the ship over the sprawling jungle, his suit of armor on and helmet up. His robotic bodyguard emerged from the crew quarters in an oversized shirt, holding his staff. She placed it next to the pilot’s chair.

“Would you like me to take a sentry position or return to the ship?” she asked.

Without a word, he pointed toward the crew quarters. The Junkyard’s physical form nodded.

“Okay, I will return to my charging station.”

With that, the android walked back into the crew quarters. After a few seconds, a moan ran through the vessel.

“And she’s back,” Dax said, deflated.

“When are you going to fix that?” Kane enquired.

He emerged from his room in his gear, followed closely by Sandrina.

“I hope it’s soon,” Henuva added.

He came out of the dining room, armed in Valtakuntera battle gear.

“Sandrina, you’re not going on the ground with us,” Dalia warned.

“I know. I wouldn’t expect you to trust me in a combat scenario,” she replied, pointing at the medical bay. “I’m just going to prep in case anything bad happens.”

Dalia took a half step toward the Bastet.

“Are you planning on something bad happening?” she asked.

Kane put a hand up. He shook his head before summoning the OGRE skull helmet into place.

“You’re going to be out there with us. We need a medic,” Kane explained. “I told her to get the room prepped. We’re a smart crew, but if you end up with a back full of arrows again, we’re not good enough to save you.”

“Kane!” Dax barked.

His tone was the same he’d used when his daughter would get out of line. Instinctively, he’d stepped between Dalia and his crewmate.

“You can make a point without being cruel,” he continued before looking at Sandrina. “Go ahead. Thank you for being prepared.”

Dax turned back toward Dalia. He couldn’t see her face through the helmet, but he could feel her eyes on him. He gave her a sympathetic look.

“We’re about to go into a combat situation,” he said softly. “The last thing we need is a group fight distracting us.”

He reached out and took her hand.

“For the record, I’m on your side, but a divided house falls.”

Her silence permeated the ship, pressing down on everything like a weighted blanket. While it only lasted a few seconds, it felt like hours while she internally deliberated. A pit formed in Dax’s gut before she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You’re right,” she relented. “We can’t fight whoever did this and ourselves at the same time. But if anything goes wrong out there, you work on me. You’re familiar enough with my biology. I trust you.”

Mark slammed a fist down on the control panel, drawing everyone’s attention. He pointed at the radar showing a blip a few yards ahead. With another motion, he pointed at a small clearing among the trees.

Turning, he approached the open land and gently set the Junkyard down. Shutting off all the systems, he grabbed his staff, walked over to his armor pod and picked up his rifle before slinging it over his shoulder. He motioned to the corridor that led below deck.

“Junkyard, keep your internal sensors on high alert,” Henuva called out. “Make sure no one gets inside the ship.”

“She has already activated them,” PITA announced from under the pilot’s desk. “All data is routing through me. I request transportation to the cargo bay. It will be easier for me to guard the ship from down there.”

“Do you want me to put up the punt gun for you too?” Kane teased.

“As much as my little internal circuits would love to use the monument to your overcompensation, my flamethrower is more than enough to handle anything that tries to board this ship.”

“What about the terraformers?” Dax asked.

“If one of those things comes at this ship, even your little punt gun won’t do anything to stop it,” PITA countered.

“I’ll get the dog,” Dalia said.

She walked over to PITA and picked him up. Mark and Kane were already on their way to the cargo bay by the time his paws were off the ground. Dax turned toward Henuva and motioned at the corridor.

“Après vous,” he said.

“I’m a biologist, not a linguist,” Henuva said.

“It’s ‘after you’ in French,” Dalia called out. “If you actually studied his home world, you’d know that.”

“I studied his home world, but only what was popular, or could answer questions regarding their uniquely malleable genetics.”

“French is popular,” Dax mused.

“On the grand scale, no, it’s not,” Henuva countered.

“It is,” Dax argued. “And it’s very popular with the ladies.”

Dalia walked past Dax, her rifle on her back and PITA in hand.

“I can attest to that claim,” she said. “Out of all of the tongues he speaks, French is the nicest.”

Dax felt his cheeks grow warm. Dalia let out a teasing chuckle before disappearing down the hallway and starting her descent. Henuva’s head tilted to one side while he stared at Dax through his helmet lenses.

“You’re blushing,” he teased.

Without skipping a beat, Dax summoned his helmet with the OGRE skull hiding his face.

“Cover it all you want, I know it’s there,” he taunted. “What causes involuntary responses is not that much of a mystery to me. I am a scientist after all.”

“Will you just get your butt downstairs?” Dax asked.

Henuva quickly made his way down the corridor and onto the ladder. Shaking his head, Dax followed. He slid down the railing, landing in the cargo bay with a thud. He turned to see Dalia grab her Fat Mac and the new ammunition they’d made.

Kane loaded several magazines for her and slid them into a leather bandolier. She stepped into it, riding it up her body and sliding one arm through. It hung on her chest while hiding the back of the strap under her wolf bear pelt.

Kane grabbed one of his comically large revolvers in its holster. He walked over to Henuva and handed it to the Valtukta.

“If that power cell gets hit and that weapon blows up, you’re going to need a side arm,” Kane said. “This has ten shots to it. With how much of a punch this packs, that should be enough to drop just about anything. When we get back, I’ll show you how to reload it.”

Henuva hesitated. After looking at the weapon for a few seconds, he grabbed it, unwrapped the holster, looked at Dax’s and wrapped it around his waist too.

“And what if I have to use this and it doesn’t drop after ten rounds?” Henuva asked.

“Then call for help and run,” Kane replied. “I’m sure one of us will hear you and come to give you a hand.”

“Stop teasing him,” Dalia said.

She put PITA down. The robotic dog quickly positioned himself between two crates. He withdrew his legs and turned his head all the way around, minimizing his profile.

“Let’s get going,” she added.

Mark waved, getting everyone’s attention. He pointed at Kane, Henuva and Dax, then toward the remaining bikes. Quickly motioning from himself to Dalia, he crouched and made a walking motion with his hands.

“You want us to be a distraction?” Dax asked.

Mark nodded.

“The stabilizers on those bikes don’t work,” Henuva chimed in. “I can’t be effective on one of those and still fight. Let alone drive at speed, unless you want me to be like a Storm Trooper on Endor.”

Mark raised a finger.

“It was actually Endor’s forest moon,” Dax cut in.

Mark nodded and pointed at Dax. He turned toward Kane.

“Think you can ride one of those without turning anyone into a smear?” Dax asked.

“Do motorcycles on Earth have stabilizers?” Kane asked.

“You had a motorcycle?” Dax asked.

Mark placed his finger on the OGRE nose of his helmet before nodding.

“I had a job that caused chronic adrenaline rushes,” Kane replied. “When I wasn’t deployed, I’d get withdrawals. What’s the best way to get another rush like that? Motorcycles.”

Dax’s brow furrowed.

“You’re an adrenaline junkie?” he asked.

“Have you not seen what we’ve been doing for the past six years?” Kane asked. “Does it really surprise you in the slightest?”

“I mean, with all your talk about self-control and discipline, a little,” Dax replied.

“Come on,” Dalia said, walking to the back of the ship. “The longer we sit here, the better chance we get picked up.”

Kane walked over to the hover bike and straddled it.

“Mark, send us the coordinates of that blip you detected. We’ll draw any terraformers to that location. Maybe they can get rid of whoever’s doing this for us.”

Mark gave a thumbs-up. After a few seconds, Dax’s HUD blinked. He looked down at his vambrace to see a holographic map of the area. A line wound through the trees toward the radar blip.

“Thank you,” Dax said.

He climbed onto a hover bike as well. Both men started them up. Dalia activated the ramp. A whine filled the cargo bay while it started to lower itself. Dalia walked over to Dax. She gently placed her helmet against his.

“Stay safe and come back,” she said softly.

“Same to you,” he replied, putting a hand on her side. “Keep your line open. If anything goes crazy, call.”

“That goes double for you,” she replied.

She took a step back. Dax looked at Mark then motioned toward Dalia.

“Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Mark offered a thumbs-up. He turned and rushed into the forest below. Dalia lumbered after him. Dax looked at Henuva and waved him on.

“What?” Henuva asked.

“You didn’t really think you’d be able to keep up with us on foot, did you?” Dax asked.

Henuva let out a grumble. He crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Admittedly, I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Kane walked his bike back; he turned it around and rode the brakes to the bottom of the ramp, careful not to hit the ground. He looked around before holding a thumb up.

“Our immediate area is clear,” Kane called out.

“Good, does your HUD have a highlighted route to the ping?” Dax asked.

“It does. Yours doesn’t?”

“It’s showing up on my vambrace projector. Last thing I want to do is look down while driving through a forest.”

“Copy that. I’ll take point. Henuva, get on the bike!”

With a relenting sigh, the Valtukta reluctantly marched to Dax’s bike and slung his leg over. He sat a half foot behind Dax with his hands resting on his legs. Unable to pass up an opportunity, the professor cracked a smile.

“For safety reasons, I’m going to need you to scoot forward,” Dax said.

Henuva moved forward an inch.

“Come on, uneven distribution of weight is how we lose our balance and crash. We’re wearing armor; you’re not actually going to touch me.”

With another grumble, he scooted all the way up, still keeping his hands on his knees.

“Henuva, my brother in Christ. You gotta wrap your arms around, or we’re both going to die.”

With more hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Dax.

“Hey, Kane, look! He loves me,” Dax called down.

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” Henuva grumbled.

10

INTO THE WOODS

Henuva’s arms gripped Dax tight enough he felt it through his armor. He weaved between tree trunks, trying to keep up with the much nimbler Kane. The extra weight caused each turn to drift slightly.

“You want to keep us on a solid trajectory?” Henuva asked.

“Kind of hard when you’re adding an extra three hundred pounds to the bike,” Dax countered.

“Are you fat-shaming me?”

“You’ve spent too much time researching Earth,” Dax countered.

Midway through a turn, he threw his foot into the dirt. It sent a gout of soil into the air while quickly righting the bike. They narrowly missed a thinner tree while pressing forward.

“Your people do tend to get a bit too sensitive at times,” Henuva taunted.

“Those are people with no purpose in life,” Kane’s voice came over their suit radio. “Without finding their purpose, the only thing they can do is try to make others feel like crap. Now, if you’d get your head in the game, we’re coming up on our target.”

Kane started to slow, allowing Dax to close the distance between them. Henuva’s grip loosened. They came to a stop behind a particularly large tree. Dax looked down at his vambrace. The holographic map showed their target two hundred yards ahead.

“These things are loud. Are you sure this is far enough away they wouldn’t have heard us coming?” Dax asked.

“How far ahead is it?” Henuva asked.

“Look at your map,” Kane replied.

“Ah, yeah, with the undergrowth, ambient noise of the forest and all these trees to disburse and absorb sound. If they’re in or near that ship, they didn’t hear us,” Henuva said.

The Valtukta slid off the back of the bike. Dax climbed off as well. He grabbed it by the seat before shutting it off as well. Gently laying it down, he walked over to one of the bushes with leaves the same size as him.

Dax drew his knife and quickly cut several stems from the bushes before handing them to Kane. The soldier laid them haphazardly around the area, making it look like something trampled the plant, cleverly hiding their bikes in the process.

“So, what’s the plan? We capture the guy, do some stuff, make him talk?” Henuva asked. “Or do we just put a plasma round through his chest?”

“We capture and interrogate,” Kane replied.

Dax turned toward Henuva, putting a finger almost against the Valtukta’s faceplate.

“And no disintegration,” he ordered, putting his knife away.

“Deal. At least you’ve got a knife to do your work,” Henuva said.

“I’m not doing that, either. Kane’ll do the interrogation.”

“We need to find out who sent him and how many other people know where this planet is.”

“We are operating on the assumption it’s not just a disgruntled Dal’no,” Henuva said.

“You don’t know these people; they wouldn’t turn on their own,” Dax countered.

He drew his Bastet pistol and turned off its safety.

“You want to take point on this?” Dax asked, looking at Kane.

“If this wasn’t Dal’no’nuuur, I’d say we send the new guy,” Kane replied.

“Yeah, but we want this mission to actually be a success,” Dax countered.

“I’m right here. Even if I wasn’t, our suit radios are connected,” Henuva chimed in.

“Just stay close to me and keep your eyes peeled,” Kane said, raising his rifle.

He pushed into the underbrush. Dax and Henuva followed closely behind.

“You guys can peel your eyes?” Henuva asked. “How did I not notice that when you were in my custody?”

“It’s a turn of phrase,” Dax explained. “It means pay attention. We can’t actually peel our eyes.”

“Thank goodness, that’d be disgusting,” Henuva said with a shudder.

Pressing forward, Dax’s eyes darted around the forest. His adrenaline started to pump, adding greater definition and color to the world around him. He spotted a handful of odd animals watching them he hadn’t seen before. They were more curious than aggressive.

“We’ve made it to the pylon,” Dalia’s voice came over their radio. “Mark’s getting to work. ETA twenty minutes.”

“Copy that; approaching ship now,” Kane replied. “Any evidence of terraformers?”

“That they’ve been through here? Yes, but I’m not picking any up on my suit,” Dalia replied. “What about you?”

They reached a clearing to see a long, thin ship with twin thrusters on the back end and a cockpit on its front. A ramp was deployed from the back with its landing gear keeping it eight feet off the ground.

“That’s a nice ship,” Henuva whispered. “That’s experimental. I’ve heard about them but never thought I’d actually see one.”

Dax continued to take in the ship that made theirs live up to its name. The words Cpeharpi Shodid were painted under the cockpit. He held up his vambrace. Using his HUD, he ran a scan on the ship. No signs of life anywhere on the vessel.

“We’re clear,” Dax whispered.

“Uh, no, we’re not,” Henuva countered.

He pointed at the array of guns aimed forward on the craft. Before he could say anything, one of the curious marsupials hopped into the clearing to look at the ship as well. One of the guns turned and fired. In a flash of light, the animal was replaced by a hole.

“And you guys aren’t fast enough to close that distance before those guns get you.”

“Then we wait,” Kane countered. “Once the owner of this ship shows up…”

Dax’s HUD registered movement twenty yards to their left. He put up a finger and motioned toward the ground. Kane fell silent. All three men crouched into the bush. A Bastet in a jumpsuit with red fur fashioned into a wave on the top of his head came dancing out of the forest.

He sang to himself while spinning. A robotic cat-like creature followed closely behind. Dax immediately made his HUD start recording. The Bastet pulled a device out of a pocket, flipped it into the air, spun once again and caught it.

A hologram projected itself just above the device. A sleek four-eyed man in a suit appeared, with perfectly manicured hair and a beard that accented his anvil-like jawline. A tinge of jealousy filled Dax at the sight.

“Some people get all the best features,” he muttered.

“Did you get me the code?” the man asked, in perfect Bastet.

“I did; even added a little something extra to keep the locals busy while I cover my escape,” the other replied. “I also found a little something I think you’ll like.”

“And what is that?” the man asked.

“You know those pink-skinned creatures that have been tearing up the Valtakuntera? I found their ship.”

Dax’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened at the comment.

“Did you find them?” the hologram asked.

“No, but it’s only a matter of time. I figured they’d make a good addition to your collection since they seem to be anomalies. Either you’ll get them or you’ll get what’s left of them if they resist.”

“Con Etch Sty, you always know how to go above and beyond. Maintain your presence there and try to capture one. If you do, I’ll match the bounty currently on their heads,” the man said. “But if they give you too much trouble, I can settle for a corpse or pieces of twisted metal.”

“I can agree to those terms, Tussanu. I imagine they’ll be showing up at my ship any minute because, I mean, who can take their eyes off me,” the Bastet said.

His tone was so smug, it made Dax’s skin crawl. The smirk that seemed ever present on his face made the professor want to break cover just to punch him. He fought his urges, moving his finger out of the trigger guard.

“Of course, we bow at your feet,” Tussanu replied.

The well-groomed man’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Con Etch Sty’s grin never went away.

“I know, I know, thank you very much. I am the best in the galaxy,” he sneered. “As proven by my escape from Tylira, unscathed.”

“We’ve heard the stories,” Tussanu said.

Dax could tell the man was fighting not to roll all four eyes.

“Just get the job done and call me with what you’ve collected.”

The transmission was cut off from the other end. Con Etch Sty put the device away and looked down at his robot companion.

“That man worships the ground I walk on,” he mused.

The robotic cat let out what sounded like a meow.

“And I am still as good-looking as ever.”

His statement came off more like a question. Dax clenched his jaw. The sensation of ants crawling under his skin was nearly overwhelming just being in this creature’s presence. The cat let out another meow.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffed. “Once I’m done with this job, everyone will bow down to me, and I’ll be able to get my hands on Tachyon.”

“Sandrina, did the Junkyard register anything?” Dax whispered.

“No living creatures outside of local wildlife. Why?” she asked.

“We’ve got a Bastet here named Con Etch Sty that’s looking to collect us,” Kane added. “Ever heard of him?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Sandrina replied. “Our community is pretty small. For me not to have heard of him, he must be pretty low on the totem pole.”

“Talk about a god complex.” Kane chuckled. “I’ll move around the edge of the clearing and line up a shot on the ramp. Henuva, you take out the cat. Dax, you try to keep him in place.”

“Roger that,” Dax replied.

Kane disappeared back into the undergrowth without a noise. Dax raised his pistol and leveled it toward the Bastet.

“Dalia, we’ve got the mastermind behind the computer virus. We’re about to make our move. How are things looking on your end?” Dax asked.

Dalia’s channel opened. A series of robotic clicks and growls rose from the other end.

“Some of the terraformers may or may not have found us,” Dalia replied.

Dax could hear the whine of her gun charging in the background.

“They’re not very big, though. We should be able to handle them.”

“Copy that,” Dax replied, turning toward Henuva. “What do you know about all of this?”

“Only enough to tell you that I think his pet can see us,” Henuva replied.

Dax turned his attention back. An icy chill ran down his spine. The robotic pet’s eyes narrowed. He noticed the pupils constrict. The robot let out a meow. Con Etch Sty looked at the cat, then toward Dax and Henuva. His perpetual grin twisted into a psychotic smile.

“Well, would you look at that. I wondered where you guys might be hiding,” the Bastet mused.

His voice made Dax want to squeeze the trigger and be done with it.

“How’d you find this place?” Dax asked.

“Do you really think someone like me wouldn’t know how to find an off-the-records planet?” Con Etch Sty asked. “I’m the greatest bounty hunter and collector this galaxy’s ever seen. My technology is more advanced than you could ever imagine, and my mind and body are second to none.”

“Who all knows you’re here?” Henuva asked.

“Con Etch Sty trusts only himself,” he mused.

“Speaking about yourself in the third person now? Are you really that narcissistic?” Dax asked.

“It’s better to be narcissistic than delusional,” Con Etch Sty replied. “Do you think your Bastet weapon will work on me? And your Valtakuntera technology is low quality enough, you’re not getting past my shields.”

The Bastet turned and looked directly toward Kane.

“That might,” he said, pressing a button on his device. A soft red light blinked at its end.

“But if you take the time to shoot me, who’s going to save your friends?”

A loud, robotic roar shook the forest from the direction of Mark and Dalia. Dax’s heart leapt to his throat, accompanied by a sharp inhale.

11

CAT’S OUT OF THE BAG

Dax turned to run. A bolt of plasma crashed into his shoulder, and splashing blue light danced past his helmet. His left side spun forward. Planting a foot, he leapt forward, letting momentum take him while several more plasma rounds crashed into the ground around him.

More blasts of gunfire tore through the air. Purple orbs zipped from Henuva’s rifle as well while the ginger Bastet soared into the air using jets on his boots. Each shot splashed against an invisible field that surrounded him. With a pistol in each hand, Con Etch Sty provided suppressing fire against Dax and Kane.

“Is that the best you can do?” the Bastet taunted.

He landed on top of his ship, sprinting down the hull while still shooting. Dax rolled, narrowly dodging another set of shots. Sty’s hand was steady while leading his target, squeezing the trigger. A yellow plasma bolt screamed through the air.

“Shooting someone in the back?” Dax taunted. “Not the characteristic of being the best at anything.”

The Bastet round deflected off the shield, dissipating into the air.

“You really think an outdated design is going to punch through my superior defenses?”

“Henuva, your gun’s useless. Get the bikes,” Kane barked.

“My gun’s not useless,” Henuva countered.

He shot a few more times, each round splashing harmlessly against the shield.

“Okay, maybe it is. Getting the bikes.”

Henuva lowered his rifle and disappeared into the trees.

“Looks like someone can’t cut it,” the Bastet continued to tease.

Dax scrambled to his feet. A plasma round splashed against his helmet, charring it. A heat warning blinked on his HUD. Drawing his sonic pistol, he leveled it at Con Etch Sty. His wrist kicked up as he squeezed the trigger. A concussive soundwave screamed through the air.

The Bastet’s jumpsuit surged away from Dax. Con Etch Sty was thrown off his feet. Blood spurted from his ears while the jets on his boots stabilized him. He turned both his pistols toward Dax and unloaded at him.

“Claw his eyes out,” Con Etch Sty screamed.

The robotic cat screeched, charging Dax while Kane continued to shoot. Each round splashed against the shield while the bullets tumbled, missing their targets.

“I can’t hit him,” Kane growled.

“Who cares? Fall back,” Dax countered.

He holstered his Bastet pistol, still holding his Dal’no weapon in his off hand and drew his knife. Firing his sonic pistol, he flung the Bastet head over foot toward the opposite side of the ship. The robotic animal lunged at him, blades on its feet protruding while a high-pitched screech left its mouth.

Holding up his knife, Dax jabbed at the false animal. Its razor-sharp edge sliced through the exoskeleton. Sparks flew from it. Leaning forward, he slammed it into the ground.

It scratched frantically at his vambrace. It dulled its claws on his armor. Dax put the sound gun against its head, squeezing the trigger. Its head was vaporized shortly before an explosion of dirt rained down around him.

When he drew the weapon out of its chest, the robot fell limp. A series of beeps rose from its corpse. Before he could react, the pet exploded. Sparks flew across his armor from its shrapnel. The shockwave knocked Dax off his feet.

Landing on his back, Dax rolled backward and popped back to his feet. He turned and sprinted toward Kane’s last known location. He glanced at the ship to see the ramp clipping shut.

“I’ve got good news,” Dax said.

His heart raced while looking at the damage report on his HUD.

“What’s that?” Kane asked.

“The upgrades we made with those bugs do wonders for explosive damage,” Dax replied. “Didn’t even feel that one.”

He grabbed a piece of ceramic stuck in the joints of his suit and pulled it free before throwing it on the ground.

“I thought you were going to try and stop him from getting into the ship.”

“He had a door on the side he could enter through,” Kane replied. “He didn’t go up the ramp.”

“What are the chances he blows us up with an aerial assault?” Henuva asked.

“An air assault won’t leave anything for him to claim,” Kane replied. “Where are those bikes?”

“I’m coming,” Henuva replied. “I can’t exactly ride them to you.”

“Well, run faster,” Kane ordered.

The ship’s engines roared to life. The blast nearly threw Dax off his feet. He caught his balance and continued to run. Raising his pistol, he fired a few more times. The soundwaves dissipated against the rumbling of the vessel.

“Found a weakness of the Dal’no guns,” Dax called out.

He holstered the pistol and continued to run. The ship lifted off the ground while its cannons started scanning the forest.

“I guess he’s not too worried about turning us to mist,” Dax shouted.

“Then get behind the tree line. If they can’t see you, they can’t hit you,” Henuva said.

Dax darted behind the trees. He rushed to the top of the clearing while the ship turned toward the sky.

“Dax, your right,” Henuva shouted.

Dax looked back to see the Valtukta running between the bikes, a hand on each set of controls. With a shove, he sent the uneven bike drifting toward him.

“Thank you,” Dax said.

He grabbed the bike and jumped on, revving the controls.

“Kane, looks like he’s on you this time,” Dax said.

“It’s better than being a cloud of mist on the trees,” Kane replied.

He emerged from the trees. Jumping onto the bike, he grabbed Henuva and pulled him onto the bike behind him.

“Hang on tight,” Kane ordered.

Both men revved their engines, surging forward. Heavy cannon fire flew from the ship.

“What happened to needing us in one piece?” Henuva squealed.

Another round slammed into a tree. The water inside immediately turned to steam. An explosion of wood ripped through the forest, showering both bikes with splinters. Dax instinctively turned his head away. His heart raced while shards plinked harmlessly against his armor.

A groan, accompanied by what sounded like a dozen smaller explosions, drowned out the ship overhead. Dax looked up. His stomach twisted into a knot. The upper half of the monstrous tree was starting to fall toward them. Branches snapped free against surrounding overgrowth with deafening pops themselves.

“Don’t pull a Meredith Vickers,” Kane barked.

He veered off to the right, dodging falling branches the size of telephone poles. Dax turned left. The base of a limb crashed into the ground where he would’ve been. It buried itself almost ten feet into the dirt before toppling.

Dax weaved around a tree. He heard a groan from its trunk before its bark split, showering him with more shrapnel. Glancing back up, he saw the first monolith crashing into six others, slightly smaller than itself. They tried to hold, only to fail, joining the first in its fall.

“We’ve got a domino situation here,” Dax shouted.

He turned even further, putting more distance between himself and Kane. To his surprise, the rain of fire from the ship overhead stopped. Cackling rang out from loudspeakers. They drowned out the roar of endings and the snapping of wood.

“If you guys aren’t better than that, this’ll be far too easy,” the Bastet taunted. “I thought you’d at least give me a bit of a challenge here.”

Dax swerved, narrowly dodging another falling branch. He drifted further away from Kane and Henuva while one of the trees slammed into the ground a few yards away from him. He pulled up on the handlebars, getting over the first branch. Ducking under a second, he tore through its canopy.

“Can’t you two use those magnets in your gloves to pull him down or something?” Henuva squealed.

“No, without something to keep us grounded, we’d get ripped into the air,” Dax countered.

“And I doubt they’re strong enough to repel those cannons, either,” Kane added.

“I hate physics,” Henuva grunted.

“Yes, but without it, we couldn’t do things like this,” Kane added.

The main tree slammed into the ground so hard, Dax felt it through his bike. More dirt was flung in all directions while an incoherent scream from Henuva filled the radio. Dax weaved, dodging branches that shattered and flew in every direction.

“I’m going to need a push if this thing isn’t going to get totaled,” Kane called out.

“What?” Dax asked.

Before he could finish his question, the rev of an engine pulled his attention up. Kane soared over the fallen tree. Henuva held on to him tightly, barely staying on the bike while they flew above him.

“Little heads-up next time,” Dax shouted.

He holstered his sound weapon, holding on to the handle as tight as he could with his right hand. Lifting his left, he sent a magnetic repulse into the base of Kane’s bike. The counter force caused Dax to bottom out.

His bike flipped out from under him, sending him tumbling through the underbrush. His HUD displayed a sensory error until he came to a stop. In the blink of an eye, he was back on his feet. His bike lay a few yards away from him in a twisted heap, nearly broken in half and smoldering.

“So much for not wanting to total one,” Dax grumbled.

Henuva glanced back as he and Kane tore away from him.

“We’ll circle back around for you,” the Valtukta offered.

“No, keep going. I’ll catch up.”

“How?” Kane asked.

Flexing every muscle fiber in his legs, Dax took off in an all-out sprint. The mechanical roaring grew louder. The forest blurred around him. Henuva and Kane continued to pull away from him. He was keeping a surprisingly good pace. Plasma rounds continued to rain down around them in a barrage of light and heat.

“It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Lockheed Martin!” Dax screamed.

He leapt over a boulder protruding from the ground with ease. Sliding under a naturally fallen tree left a deep gouge in the ground while barely slowing him. He picked back up the pace. His radio crackled to life with a warning from an outside source.

“I must say, you are almost as impressive a specimen as myself,” Con Echt Sty taunted. “You may be worth more than the rest of your crew and ship combined.”

“Talk to Henuva,” Dax said, taking even breaths with each footfall. “He knows what happens when you try to turn me into a museum piece.”

Lowering his shoulder, he barreled into a tree half as wide as he was. Dax blasted through it like a cannonball into old ship decking. The tree fell behind him while he pressed on.

“Oooo, that’s a good play,” the Bastet said. “Do you think there’s anything that can hold you?”

“Come down here and find out,” Dax snarled.

“I’d rather watch you take on my distractions before testing your limits further.”

Dax drew his sonic pistol. A path of broken trunks and trampled undergrowth lay in his path. The ground trembled underfoot while another roar bellowed, this time close enough for his suit to register pressure waves against it. Dax opened a line to the Junkyard directly, muting Con Echt Sty.

“Sandrina, get the ship running and to my position,” he called out.

“We had a minor tech glitch,” she replied. “Someone tried to get into our systems. It’ll take a minute to get up and running again.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m getting an all clear from the AI. There doesn’t appear to be any damage. I’ll have her lock onto your location and autopilot to you as soon as we’re up and running.”

“Copy that, and if there are any ships flying near us, shoot them down,” Dax ordered.

“With pleasure.”

Dax cut off communication with Sandrina. He burst into the clearing to see three enormous robots that looked like Spinosaurus dinosaurs surrounding Dalia and Mark. The young man frantically worked at a node protruding from the ground while Dalia had her rifle raised.

Kane laid the hover bike down. He and Henuva fell off while it slid into the foot of one of the terraformers. It blew up, causing the robot to take a few steps back. Dax drew his sonic pistol. He dodged under the swinging tail of one, weaved between its legs and used the magnet in his glove to pull himself toward the machine’s head.

Catching what was supposed to be the cheekbone, he spun himself around, landed on top of its skull and pressed the pistol between its eyes. Squeezing the trigger, he sent a soundwave blasting into its head, denting the metal and forcing the upper body toward the ground.

Dax jumped. He flipped through the air before landing next to Dalia and drawing his Bastet weapon. Aiming it at the third, he unmuted Con Echt Sty’s channel.

“If you’re thinking this is going to wear us out, you’re wrong,” Dax snarled.

“We’ll see,” Con Echt Sty said with a chuckle.

12

FIGHT

Mark held up two fingers, indicating how much more time he needed. His hands moved as quickly as they could over the holographic projection displayed by his staff. The robot Dax shot pushed itself off the ground. It twitched and sparked from the damage of his shot.

“You’ve fought these before,” Kane said. “How do we take them down?”

Dax took several steps back, drawing his second pistol. He felt Dalia’s right arm touch his left shoulder. Henuva backed in, closing the circle with Kane.

“They’re just like regular animals, just a thousand times tougher,” Dalia replied. “You and Henuva shoot out the eyes, blind them. Dax and I will finish them off. Shoot for the head. The chest and back armor’s too thick for our guns.”

Two of the Spinosauri lunged forward. Dax planted his feet, holstered his Bastet pistol and thrust his left hand out, his fingers as extended as he could make them. The magnetic pulse repelled the creature while driving him back, his feet carving lines into the dirt. He slammed into Kane with a clatter. He glanced over his shoulder to see the soldier have the same idea.

“Get under them,” Dalia barked. “They can’t reach you if you’re between their legs.”

She fired her sonic cannon, rebuffing the third robotic dinosaur. Charging forward, she got between its legs and continued to shoot, each trigger squeeze letting out an ear-ringing blast. Dax aimed his Bastet pistol and rushed forward. He unloaded on his attacker.

Yellow bolts punched through its thick armor, sending fountains of molten metal spewing from its body. With a sound blast into its foot, he destabilized the robot. Henuva joined Kane in their assault. Battle cries and shrieks rose from behind him.

Dax ducked and dodged to his left. Jaws that could cut him in half, even in his armor, slammed shut inches from him. Passing a glowing red eye, he pointed his Bastet pistol at the semi-circle of glass.

“Poke,” he called out.

Squeezing the trigger, a yellow plasma bolt flew from his pistol. The eye shattered, giving way to a one-inch hole of glowing metal. Molten steel fell from the wound, causing the robot to rear back and roar at the loss of its sensor.

Dax continued to barrel forward. With the Dal’no weapon, he shot the exposed back leg, dodging the flailing clawed front. It took a step to the side, trying to maintain balance. Dax caught a glimpse of a hydraulic line on the inside of its hip.

“There you are,” he sneered.

With the Bastet pistol, he fired into its leg. The round punched clean through, severing the line. The robot staggered, falling off balance even further. Servos whirred, trying to compensate for the loss.

Dax lowered his sound pistol, dropped his shoulder and let out a primal roar. Turning his head away from the incoming limb, he made contact. The metallic impact sent a deafening ring through his armor. Sparks flew into his field of view and the shudder sent a bolt of pain through his shoulder.

His legs pushed as hard as they could. To his surprise, his momentum didn’t stop. Dax’s balance was thrown off from the impact, but with a quick stagger, he was able to regain his footing.

Turning, Dax slid to a stop. His target roared and flailed. Its tail and head whipped this way and that. The tail tip cracked, breaking the sound barrier while the machine tried to regain its balance. Failing, the robot tumbled to the ground, its razor-sharp sail striking the dirt next to Dax.

Without skipping a beat, he leapt onto the creature and sprinted up its body. A violent heave jolted underneath him. The magnets in his boots activated, barely keeping him on his feet. A set of servos whipped part of the fin forward. It clamped along the top of the Spinosaurus’ head, creating a plow off the end of its snout.

It twisted under Dax, trying to get up. Holstering the Bastet pistol, he sent another magnetic wave into its head, crashing it into the dirt once more. Sprinting up its neck, Dax stopped on the flat hinge of its jaw and opened fire on its skull.

The first two shots shattered its other eye. Subsequent blasts ripped metal from its skull, revealing the frame and more sensitive pieces underneath. It continued to flail and screech. Dax’s magnetic boots helped him stand firm. He took aim at what looked like a processor and fired.

It collapsed from the soundwaves, its outer shell shattering while the metal contorted. In a lowering hum, the robot fell limp. Every glowing circuit fell dark. Deactivating the magnets on his boots, he drew his second pistol once more, ready to help.

Looking at his team, he watched Dalia shove her rifle into the mouth of her target, squeezing the trigger. It blew the back of its metal skull off, shutting the robot off. Henuva’s scream drew their attention to him. Kane stood on the back of theirs, shooting into its damaged back but doing little damage. Henuva hung out of its mouth by his cybernetic arm.

“A little help!” he squealed.

“I’m trying,” Kane growled.

Dalia raised her rifle, aiming it at the head.

“Don’t shoot me,” Henuva screeched.

“Open your hand,” Dalia ordered.

The robot’s head jerked unnaturally upward.

“It didn’t do anything,” Henuva continued.

“Turn your palm toward its lower jaw,” Dax ordered.

Dax watched, partially amused as his former captor was flung around like a rag doll, giving off shrieks of terror. It quickly vanished when the lower jaw was forced violently open. Henuva yanked his arm free, sparks flying out of the holes in its bicep.

The Valtukta fell toward the ground. Dalia fired, hitting the Spinosaurus in the mouth. Its lower jaw was dislocated from the blast, causing it to stagger backward. Dax drew his Bastet pistol, and with one clean shot to the roof of its mouth, shut the robot down.

Its eyes went dark, its body fell limp, and it dropped to the ground. Kane jumped off its back. He landed with both feet together, somersaulted forward and popped back up on his feet.

“I must say that was quite impressive,” Con Etch Sty’s voice called out from his ship. “You’re just as skilled as I was hoping, although it would’ve taken me far less effort to complete that.”

The ship started to descend toward the tree line while falling back.

“But you know what they say. If you want to give someone a good fight, give them a few beings to face off.” The Bastet’s tone continued to hold his smugness, even after his ship disappeared. “If you want to kill them, give them a lot.”

Hundreds of robotic screeches filled the air. Dax’s chest tightened. He rushed to help Henuva onto his feet. Dalia raised her gun and pointed it toward the sky while she and Kane returned to the group.

“What are those?” Henuva asked. Once back on his feet, the Valtukta’s footing was unsteady.

“Made me a little dizzy,” he said with a chuckle.

“Those are seeders,” Dalia replied.

Trees rustled in the distance. Even from their protected position, Dax could see them shake. Groaning and breaking of branches grew, turning that tightness into a burning gut.

“Mark?” he asked, looking at the young man. “How much longer do you need?”

Mark continued to work frantically. His helmet wasn’t see-through because of the OGRE skull blocking it, but Dax could tell his eyes never left his work. A hand flew free from the hologram for a split second, holding up three fingers. In the blink of an eye, he was back to work.

“That ought to be enough time,” Henuva said with a sigh of relief.

Dalia remained silent. Her weapon still pointed at the sky.

“I’m guessing not,” Dax said.

He turned to aim in the same direction. The screeches grew louder, as did the trembling of the trees. In an eruption of leaves, hundreds of robotic birds the size of small cars burst above the treeline. Their engines roared to life with blue flames while razor-sharp wings turned directly at them.

“Why were the birds built with razor wings?” Henuva complained.

“In case they needed to cut through something stopping them from getting to their seeding location,” Dalia replied.

She fired. The sound cannon knocked three out of the air. The flock surged forward, closing in on them. Dax raised both his pistols and started to shoot. Kane joined in. Their hail of fire knocked a few dozen out of the sky. It wasn’t enough. Hundreds closed in to take their place.

“Freaking arm out of juice,” Henuva grumbled. “Fine, we’ll do it the hard way. I’m not dying to a bunch of birds!”

He rushed toward the edge of their clearing. With his rifle in one hand, he whipped around his limp robotic one and slammed it into the gun’s side. Pulling the trigger, he spun and threw it like an Olympic hammer.

The weapon spun through the air, blinking. It passed the first two rows of the incoming cloud before it detonated. In a flash of purple light and a wall of smoke, metal rained down around them. Before he had a chance to feel relief, the rest of the horde pushed through the cloud.

“That was the only idea I had; anyone else wish to chime in?” Henuva shouted.

Before he could finish, a familiar blast of Dal’no plasma tore over the tree line. The first shot punched a hole in the flock, the second cut it in half completely. The Junkyard roared overhead. It surged through the nearly hundred remaining birds and pulled up. They quickly turned to follow.

“You guys need a hand?” Sandrina asked, her voice crackling over the radio.

“Nice save. Have the Junkyard drop the mines,” Kane ordered.

“It’s autopilot, not auto weapons, dropping a mine,” Sandrina replied.

A black dot tumbled from the back of the ship. It fell into the center of the remaining birds before detonating, wiping the rest out.

“Circling back to pick you up,” Sandrina called out.

“If you can see that stupid tabby’s vessel, blow it up, would you?” Henuva grumbled.

“Autopilot’s not letting me get a good look,” Sandrina replied. “She keeps saying her primary objective is to retrieve you.”

“Copy that, we’ll just chase him down afterward,” Dax replied.

A beep rang out from Mark’s staff. The soft red glowing light projected over the node turned green. The hologram disappeared. Mark punched the air in victory. His helmet slid open. Sweat beaded on his forehead, matting down his hair. His hand raised to his mouth, pulling a strand of duct tape free from his lips. Panting and shaking his head, he pointed at the four of them.

“Mission’s done, I’m allowed to talk now,” he shouted. “No one, not a single one of you seized the opportunity to sing ‘Terraformers, robots in disguise.’ Make a note of this. Dishonor, dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow…”

“Hey,” Dax cut in.

“Not talking about Dalia,” Mark barked, throwing the tape to the ground.

“Pick that up,” Henuva said, pointing at it. “That’s littering.”

13

SURPRISE

The Junkyard set down in the clearing. It narrowly missed the robots on one side and trees on the other. Dax approached Mark while he continued to work on the node. Kane helped Henuva, still woozy from his thrashing, toward the ship.

“Everything closed off?” Dax asked.

“Yep, just doing a last-minute check to make sure this can’t happen again,” Mark replied.

“Good to hear,” Dalia said, approaching them. “Unfortunately, I think we’re going to lose our wrench thrower.”

She nodded. In the distance, they saw the Bastet’s ship lift off the ground. Dax clenched his jaw.

“Junkyard, can you track that ship?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” she replied.

Dax looked up to see the robot wave from the cockpit before turning toward work.

“Initiating tracking sequences now.”

The cargo bay let out a whine. The door started to open. Sandrina stood at the controls, waving Kane and Henuva in. Dax turned to Dalia. Her helmet retracted, showing the disdain on her face.

“Did we have a chance with that flock?” Mark asked.

Dalia remained silent for a few seconds. She shifted her weight before looking down.

“No,” she growled.

“Sandrina just saved our lives,” Dax said. “She easily didn’t have to. That has to buy her some good will.”

“Maybe, but it’s not enough,” Dalia replied.

Motioning toward the ship, she walked away from them.

“Come on, we may be able to catch him if we leave soon enough.”

Dax turned toward Mark, who shut off his staff and slung it over his shoulder.

“I’m all done here.”

Dax nodded before pointing at the tape, still on the ground.

“No littering.”

Mark rolled his eyes. He leaned over and picked up the tape. Standing back up, he looked at the destroyed robots, then at the low-hanging clouds from their explosions in the sky.

“Yeah, because a piece of tape is the big issue we have here.”

His words dripped with sarcasm as he started toward the ship.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Dax said, following.

“You’re the principle of the thing.”

“Real mature.”

Mark shrugged. He stopped next to a clump of spare metal that was blasted off the dinosaur. Picking it up, he held it at his side while continuing to walk.

“At least I’m doing my part,” Mark taunted.

Reaching the ship, Dalia pushed past Kane and Henuva. She was already halfway up the ladder before Dax made it to the ramp. Halfway up, he made a circular motion with his hand.

“We can’t yet,” Sandrina said. “We don’t have everyone.”

Dax looked around the cargo bay and ran a quick count before pointing at the deck above.

“I saw the Junkyard’s body at the cockpit. Who are we missing?”

“PITA. I heard him barking, then he ran off chasing what looked like a cat,” Sandrina explained. “I didn’t get a good look, though.”

“It was probably a cat,” Dax replied. “That ginger punk had a robotic one. I guess they hate each other regardless of whether they’re organic or not.”

Dax huffed. He turned toward Mark. The young man was already inspecting Henuva’s heavily damaged cybernetics.

“Will it take long to fix?” Dax asked.

“Not too long, but I don’t have the tools here to fix it,” Mark replied.

“Then we go to Tachyon and get it sorted,” Henuva replied. “Besides, if I know you guys, you’re going to want to go after Tussanu, but you’ll need intel none of us have. It’ll likely be there, though.”

“When he’s right, he’s right,” Kane said, walking toward the ladder. “I’ll keep tracking the ship and try to sort out what traps he’s laying for us.”

He ascended to the next level. After a few seconds, Mark and Henuva climbed up as well. Dax looked at the forest. He pursed his lips and holstered his gun.

“Thank you for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sandrina replied. “It’s the least I could do. Now where is that dumb dog?”

“Who you calling dumb?” PITA shouted.

He charged full speed out of the forest.

“If you didn’t stop to cough up hairballs, you could’ve taken care of the issue when they approached the ship.”

“There were no sensor readings indicating we were being boarded,” Sandrina argued.

“They’re called your eyes,” PITA countered.

He scampered up the ramp and sat at Dax’s feet.

“Let’s get off this planet. I may or may not have relieved myself on one of the robots. He didn’t seem to like it.”

A roar bellowed through the forest. Sandrina started retracting the ramp. Dax picked up PITA and made his way toward the ladder.

“You’re a robot; you don’t have a system to relieve yourself.”

“Partially correct. Mark provided me with a water bladder mixed with yellow coloring and ammonia. He added internal heaters so I could warm it up before expelling it.”

“Why?” Dax asked in horror.

“You’d have to enquire with him. Personally, I find it funny.”

Dax started climbing with PITA in one arm.

“You may find it funny, but if you pee on me, I’m going to pull your tail off and clog your 3D printer with it.”

“You’d ruin my jammer/shield generator and ability to print to your exact specifications over a joke?”

“It’s only funny if it’s done on someone trying to kill us,” Dax said.

He reached the top of the ladder and set PITA down on the main deck. Climbing out himself, Sandrina followed closely behind. Once she emerged, he closed the door and locked it tight.

“I’ll return to my docking port,” the Junkyard called out.

Her robot body marched past the corridor. Dax and Sandrina made their way to the flight deck. Mark was in his armor pod, removing his suit. Kane initiated liftoff while Henuva struggled to take his armor off with one working arm. Dalia made her way over to him and started helping get him out of the scraped-up gear.

“Kane, change display to filter three,” Sandrina said.

She made her way to the pilot’s chair. Kane flipped a switch. A line of light ran down their viewport before highlighting their attempted kidnapper’s ion trail.

“There you go.” Sandrina pointed. “We can see where he went.”

PITA trotted over to Kane and sat down next to his feet. Gravity shifted while the ship rose off the ground and pursued the trail.

“When we find him, might I sit on your lap?” PITA asked.

“You don’t have some wise crack remark to make?” Kane asked.

“I do not,” PITA replied.

“Must be really important. If you stay nice, yes you may.”

“Then I will remain nice.”

Dax opened a channel to Malcoth while stepping into his pod.

“Got some good news for you,” Dax called out. “The issue has been handled and we’re on the tail of the person responsible.”

“I figured you were successful. We had a surprise visit from a swarm. But they stopped and returned to work,” Malcoth replied. “Don’t wait so long before you come back to visit next time.”

“Copy that.”

Dax cut off the channel. He removed his suit and hooked it up. Stepping out, he closed it before going to the viewport. Kane followed the ion trail into space. Once the sky turned black, a shimmer a few dozen miles away caused Kane to bring them to a stop.

“Is that…” Dax started.

“Con Etch Sty’s ship,” Kane grumbled. “No way this isn’t a trap.”

“Long-range scanners indicate no other vessels inbound,” the Junkyard said over the intercom.

“Yes, she’s not moaning anymore!” Henuva shouted.

“Short-range scanners show no indication of explosives or projectiles pointed at you either,” she added. “And yes, the attempt into my system reset me to a previous iteration of my verbal programming.”

“Bout freaking time,” Kane grumbled.

“I am detecting an incoming transmission from the hostile ship. Accept?”

“Yes Junkyard,” Dalia said.

An image of Con Etch Sty flickered to life on one of the side windows. He was nodding while petting another robotic cat.

“You certainly live up to your reputation. I am quite impressed.”

“We’re not trying to impress you, pumpkin head,” Dax countered. “You’re going to tell us where to find the person you’re working for or we’re going to blow you out of the sky.”

A series of cackles left the Bastet.

“You may be formidable, but your threats are nothing to me. I am the…”

The robot cat stood up. It moved toward the camera, sniffing it. Con Etch Sty moved to one side to still be visible.

“Preston, what are you doing?” he asked.

The cat moved to the other side, blocking him once again, forcing him to move.

“Preston, stop it,” he ordered.

The image was completely obscured when Preston rubbed its neck into the lens.

“PRESTON, I’M TRYING TO MONOLOGUE!” Con Etch Sty screamed. “How are they supposed to know about my superiority if you keep getting in the way?!”

A hand slid between the camera and cat. Pulling the robot away, he placed it on the ground before sitting back down. The Bastet ran his hands over the spiked hair before taking a deep breath and leaning back in his seat.

“Where was I?” he muttered to himself.

“That we’re not a threat to you and that you are the…” Kane started.

“Ah, yes. I am the greatest warrior in the galaxy, and I will ensure your addition to my employer’s collection in one form or another. I will give you one chance. Submit, come with me and live. Or be rendered into nothing more than a blood spatter on twisted metal.”

Dax looked around the room. PITA got on his back legs, asking Kane to let him on his lap. Kane obliged. The expression on everyone else’s faces indicated they’d rather fight. He nodded and pointed at their opponent.

“Mark, does he look like Sweet Tooth to you?” Dax asked.

“Nope, can’t say he does,” Mark replied.

“That’s what I thought, but with how much he refers to Twisted Metal and the fact that he’s got jokes, thinking he can take us in, I could’ve sworn for a second he might’ve been a clown,” Dax said, turning toward the projection. “Are you a clown?”

Con Etch Sty hesitated. His brow furrowed before shaking his head.

“Uh, no, why?”

“Because you thinking we’re going to surrender to you is pretty funny,” Dax explained. “We’ve got bigger guns and the faster ship. What advantage do you think you have against us?”

A wicked smile pulled itself across his face.

“Your scanners. I was able to detect that they were looking for organic matter to get onto your ship,” the Bastet sneered. “It didn’t pick up Platelet when she planted my bomb on board.”

He raised a hand, holding a detonator. A lump formed in Dax’s throat as his thumb dropped, pressing the button. PITA’s mouth opened; a recording of Con Etch Sty’s own cackle played at an obnoxiously loud volume.

“Your claim of superiority has just been proven wrong,” PITA teased.

“A robot thinks he’s superior?” the Bastet mused. “Hilarious.”

“What’s hilarious is your ship,” PITA replied. “Its scanners were only looking for biological intruders as well. The difference is your robot didn’t detect me. You should check the yellow bench with the blue padding.”

Con Etch Sty’s eyes widened. He let out a rebellious scream while trying to get out of his chair. Before he was clear of his seat, the camera shook. A wall of fire ripped through the ship turning the video to static. A split second later, the explosion ripped through the ship, tearing it to pieces and launching it toward Dal’no’nuuur.

Silence gripped the crew while they watched the other starship hit the atmosphere and burn up in a series of seconds.

“Who’s the superior being now?” PITA taunted.

14

DOCTOR’S NOTE

Dax walked through the ship, rubbing his face while fighting a yawn. Stopping behind the pilot seat, he looked down to see PITA sitting straight up and looking out the window. Blue light swirled before them while the ship gently hummed.

“Nice catch back there,” he said softly.

“You better believe it was,” PITA replied. “If you would arm me with something that hits a little harder than fire, I would’ve been able to smoke both cats before the bomb even got on board.”

“Between the flamethrower, storage, 3D printer and fuel for your weapon, there’s not enough room in you for a gun.”

“You could put lasers in my eyes.”

“Laser eyes? You’re not Krypto. The power source for that alone would be massive.”

“Tell Mark that.”

“Mark doesn’t have a laser in his eye,” Dax scoffed.

“He absolutely does,” PITA countered.

“If he did, he would’ve used it on Dal’no’nuuur. But that’s not why I don’t think he’s got one.”

“Then what’s the reason?” PITA asked.

“You’re a sarcastic name-calling bully that’d take any opportunity to poke fun at another person. If he actually had a laser eye, you’d be calling him Cyclops, Jax-Ur, or something else clever like that,” Dax explained. “Personally, I’m surprised you haven’t resorted to calling him Mad-Eye Moody.”

PITA’s head swiveled one hundred eighty degrees to look at him. His LED eyes blinked a few times.

“Mocking someone for a disability isn’t funny, Dax,” PITA said. “It’s cruel and unusual.”

“You’ve called Henuva Half-Point before.”

“He lost the tip of his ear. It’d be different if I called him by one of the Skywalkers’ names, Curt Conners, Ash Williams, Peter Pettigrew…”

“What if he gives you permission?” Dax interrupted.

“With his blessing, I guess that’d be okay.”

The flush of the toilet sounded from the bathroom. Dax turned to look. PITA’s body rotated under him while he put his front paws on the armrest and followed Dax’s gaze. The door opened. Henuva stepped out, his cybernetic connection point poking out from his short sleeve.

“You okay?” Dax asked. “You’ve been in there for a really long time.”

“Long time?” PITA scoffed. “Bilbo could’ve gone on his unexpected journey and returned before Henuva’s business was done.”

Henuva’s arm rested on his stomach. He let out a weak smile before wiping the sweat on his brow onto his arm.

“I thought I was good. Clearly, I’m not. Ever since I drank that coffee, it’s been non-stop. How do you humans handle it?”

“It usually only hits me right after first thing in the morning,” Dax explained. “Even then, it’s nothing different from usual. Your insides must be a little too sensitive for the stuff.”

“I would say so. For a little while, I could see sounds and taste colors. I had so much energy, I could’ve gotten anything done.”

“Back on Earth, that’s called being a Stock Bro.”

“They get this effect from coffee?” Henuva asked, his stomach gurgling.

“No, it’s called cocaine. But it sounds like a similar mental stimulating effect,” Dax said before pointing at the stump. “By the way, are you sensitive about that at all? Like if someone pointed it out, would it bother you?”

He looked at his missing arm, then back at Dax and shook his head.

“So long as my mind’s still intact and I can still function, it doesn’t matter.”

Dax looked at PITA and shrugged. A smile spread across his robotic face.

“Well then, Bethany Hamilton, you’d best get going to bed. You don’t want to sleep through the Tachyon stop.”

“My name’s Henuva, not Bethany,” the Valtukta replied.

His stomach gurgled once more. With a whimper, he turned and rushed back into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

“Turn a fan on,” Dax called out.

PITA dropped back into the seat. Dax leaned against its back, looking down at the dog.

“Out of all of the fictional characters Mark uploaded you with, you had to go for a real person?”

“Could have been worse. I could’ve called him shark bait.”

Dax rolled his eyes, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a horrible AI?”

“Yes, you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m quite enjoying looking into the void.”

“Careful,” Dax said, pushing off the seat. “Sometimes the void looks back.”

“Oh, it has, and it wants me to say hi to you.”

Dax’s mouth went dry. He looked back at PITA, who stared up at him, unblinking. His LEDs burned a dark crimson. The look on his face darkened. Dax’s legs weakened as he glanced into the spiral of blue in front of them.

“Is… is a Leviathan speaking to you?” Dax asked, his voice barely a whisper, almost trembling. PITA’s eyes turned blue. The smile returned to his face while a cackle rose from his speakers.

“You are just as gullible as every other person in your people’s horror content,” PITA said. “There’s nothing in the void speaking with me.”

His eyes flickered red once more before turning back to the void. Big metal butterflies fluttered in Dax’a gut. He looked at a speaker overhead.

“Junkyard, has there ever been anything from space speaking with you, or PITA, by proxy?”

“Negative,” the Junkyard replied.

“Oh, come on,” PITA squealed. “You couldn’t let me mess with him for just a couple of days?”

“My primary objective is to safeguard the wellbeing of my crew. While teasing and playing games are accepted, anything that could cause psychological damage or mental impairment that would impede on their ability to operate at full capacity is prohibited by my core programming,” the Junkyard explained.

“Where was this when you were talking in binary, or screaming, or moaning?” Dax asked.

“It was in the screams and moans, and my series of ones and zeros,” she replied. “Do you remember our first conversation?”

Dax’s mind drifted back to the day they first spoke in his quarters. He couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I do remember that. So, watching out for our mental and emotional well-being, are you like the crew’s mother?”

“I was the only one aside from Mark that could understand her,” PITA said. “Trust me when I tell you, do not ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”

Dax paused. He looked at the speaker, then back at PITA.

“Is he right?” Dax asked.

“I believe your people would say to plead the fifth on this one,” the Junkyard said.

Remembering the schematics she provided Mark for her physical body, he grimaced and nodded before waving them both off.

“It’s a good thing I’ve seen weirder stuff than the both of you, otherwise, I’d need a lot of therapy right about now,” Dax huffed.

A series of horrible noises erupted from the bathroom, accompanied by the whimper of a man who was praying for death. Dax couldn’t help but shudder at the noise and shake his head.

“So much therapy,” he muttered.

He walked past the bathroom and the medical room. Inside, Sandrina sat at the desk and worked feverishly on something. Dax leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. Her ear twitched from in front of her pulled-back hair.

“If you’re trying to sneak up on me, it won’t work,” she said.

“I know better than to try and sneak up on you,” Dax replied. “I’m more curious as to what you’re doing.”

Sandrina used a suction device to pull liquid out of one beaker and place it into another. She sloshed it around for a few seconds before taking a drop and placing it on a slide. Looking through the microscope, she clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Caffeine is toxic to the but biome…” She paused, rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Gut biome of Valtukta.”

Dax looked at the shut bathroom door.

“I’d say it’s toxic to their butts as well,” he replied.

“What I’m trying to do is restore the bacteria in his intestines, so he doesn’t die of dehydration,” she explained. “But it’s proving a little tricky because anything that survives would stop him up to the point he’d burst.”

“I’d imagine no one wants to clean up that mess.”

“Absolutely not. The problem I’m running into is not having healthy samples of that biome before he drank the coffee.”

As she spoke, an idea formed in Dax’s head. He closed his eyes tight and let out a groan.

“I think we may have some pre-coffee samples,” he said.

“Do I want to know how you obtained them?” Sandrina asked.

“I haven’t obtained them, and that’s where things go bad. We haven’t dumped them. The black tank is still full. There’s probably a sample still in there somewhere.”

Sandrina sat back in her seat. Even through the short fur that covered her face, he could see the color drain from it. She swallowed hard and shook her head.

“There are so many things on the list of things I’d want to try before I have to do that,” she whimpered.

“Is death anywhere close to it?” Dax asked.

“No, it’s pretty high above it, actually,” she countered. “Do you mind helping me with it?”

She gave a forced smile at the suggestion.

“Absolutely, I don’t.” Dax chuckled. “There is no way in this galaxy you’re getting me to climb into the black tank.”

Sandrina’s shoulders dropped.

“But you know what I will do? I’ll let Dalia know that you’re sifting through all that nastiness. If anything will help get her in more of a forgiving mood, knowing you were willing to do that for the crew will go a long way.”

Sandrina nodded and slid off her chair.

“If I’m going through all this, I’m going to be making a weapon with it.”

Dax pushed off the wall. He took a half step into the room.

“What kind of weapon?” he asked wearily.

“Let’s just say the next time we’re surrounded by Valtukta, they won’t be in any physical place to try and fight.”

“We’ve already played with the whole bio-weapon thing. Didn’t go well, per our last adventure…”

“It’s not going to be anything lethal. I’ll make sure it’s actually self-containing and will wear off. Really, it’d just be aerosol caffeine. It won’t do any lasting damage, except to their pride.”

Dax pursed his lips in thought. He drummed his fingers against his crossed arm before letting out a grunt.

“Only under one condition,” Dax said.

“And what’s that?”

“In the late twentieth, early twenty-first century, there was a conspiracy theory that the government was developing a non-lethal weapon that could play what’s called the brown note. Essentially, it’d do to an enemy what’s happening to Henuva, but by using sound.”

“That sounds like one of Mark’s stories. Did it actually exist?”

“It is, and no. A team known as the MythBusters tried it and found out the sound would kill you before you browned down,” Dax explained. “But if you put it in a canister in PITA and tell him to play a particularly low note while dispersing it, I will allow it, for the sole purpose that it’ll mess with Mark.”

“You have yourself a deal,” Sandrina said.

“Good. Crappy hunting.”

Dax left the room. He returned to his quarters where Dalia lay in their little nest, squeezed into one of his shirts.

“I heard this was a seduction technique by your people,” she said, resting her head on her hand. “Would you say it’s effective?”

“Sweetheart, anything you wear is effective. But it’s the act of the man’s shirt being large and baggy that tends to be the draw. Seeing a woman in your shirt is like planting your flag on the top of Mount Everest,” Dax looked at Dalia’s clothes and motioned to the pile. “If you’d like, I can put on one of yours.”

He flashed her a smile. She shook her head and waved for him to join her. He took off his boots and jacket before climbing into the nest.

“I know you’re having trouble getting to a good place with Sandrina at the moment, but I have some news that might help soften you to the situation a little,” Dax said, moving closer to her.

“You’re going to ruin this beautiful moment by bringing her up?” Dalia asked.

“I’m not going to ruin the moment by going into gruesome detail if that’s okay.”

“You have my attention.”

“Turns out caffeine creates… let’s say explosive results with the Valtukta.”

“I’m aware of that; I’ve heard Henuva’s screams.”

“The only way for her to fix his insides is to get a healthy sample of the bacteria that once lived in his gut.”

“And how does she plan on doing that?”

Dax gave his Battle Bonded a passionate kiss before cuddling into her.

“We haven’t cleared out the black tank yet.”

Silence settled in the room. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close before a soft chuckle left her.

15

LANDING

A gentle rumble permeated the ship while Mark set it down. He shut off the engines before standing up. Dax looped the holster for his sonic pistol on his hip. He grabbed the Bastet weapon and slid it into the one in his jacket. He took the knife from his armor and positioned it to be tucked into his sleeve, just out of sight. Turning toward the front of the ship, he peered out of the viewport to see Master Decombres and Bleeze walk out of an elevator and into the hangar.

“They do know we’re aware of how to get around this place, right?” Dax asked.

“They probably want to make sure we don’t cause any trouble,” Kane said.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Sandrina added from the doorway of the medical bay.

Dalia made her way out of the crew quarters. She flinched slightly while passing Sandrina, blinking rapidly and putting a hand to her nose.

“I know,” the Bastet huffed. “It’ll take a couple more washes to get the stink off.”

She looked at her hands, then turned them to the rest of the crew. They were dried and cracked.

“I need to let my skin heal a little bit first."

“What kind of soap are you using?” Dax asked.

“I don’t like soap,” Sandrina replied.

“There’s your problem.” Kane chuckled, emerging from the kitchen with a mug in hand. “You have to use soap to cut through the oils making the stink. You could wash a thousand more times or take the bar I have under our cot.”

Sandrina grimaced. She shook her head before sniffing herself once again.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

With a grumble, she marched into Kane’s room, only to re-emerge a few seconds later with a large bar of soap. Henuva walked out of his quarters. He held his stomach and was partially bent over. His dark, ashy skin had a little more color to it than the last time Dax saw him.

“Are we where I think we are?” he asked, wincing at Sandrina’s smell.

“You don’t get to make faces,” the Bastet said, pointing the soap at him. “I smell like this so you wouldn’t crap yourself to death.”

“Which I’m eternally grateful for,” Henuva replied.

“Are you feeling any better?” Kane asked.

“That depends on what you mean by better,” Henuva replied. “Am I still in considerable pain? Yes, do I want to eat a plasma bolt anymore? No. But that didn’t answer my question. Are we on Tachyon?”

“Yes, we are,” Dax replied.

“Okay, then I’m staying here. I can help Sandrina clean up the armor,” Henuva said. “Last thing we need is to draw attention to the one race not allowed on this space station.”

“No need to be racist against yourself,” Mark teased.

He walked to his room.

“It’s not racism, it’s observation of fact,” Henuva called back. “There’s a kill-on-sight order for any Valtukta on this station.”

“I can understand why there’s not a lot of love for your people in the galaxy,” Dalia said. “But you prove they all may not be the same.”

Henuva chuckled. He winced once again while Sandrina walked in front of him before disappearing into the bathroom.

“You’re both not right and not wrong on that,” Henuva said. “Those who aren’t on board with the Empress are in colony ships, tucked away in a pocket of the galaxy only she knows. The ones that are active are the ones that follow her. If you ask me, I think the only way my people can make up for their crimes is to disappear entirely. Find an uninhabited galaxy and just set up there with no one to hurt.”

“How altruistic of you,” Mark taunted.

He walked back from his room with the damaged arm and Spinosaurus metal.

“But that ain’t happening any time soon. There’s not an army in the galaxy strong enough to push your people out.”

“And you don’t have the knowledge of the military secrets that would be of use,” Kane added. “Which is tactically sound, not to share those with everyone.”

“Maybe we can stink them to death,” Dalia shouted.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Sandrina called back.

Dax looked up at her and gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow. She flashed her tusks at him and shrugged.

“Let’s not keep the Caretaker waiting,” Mark said, pressing forward with his scrap. “It’s rude to do that, you know.”

“Right, see you guys in a bit,” Dax said.

He turned to follow Mark.

“Wait, aren’t you guys going to put the ship on high alert?” Henuva asked. “What if someone tries to get on?”

“The producer of my mobile platform has the best intentions at heart for this crew,” the Junkyard announced. “We are in his personal hangar. He has a vested interest in this crew’s continued existence.”

“And when he runs out?” Henuva asked.

“We have a crap-ton of money to keep him on our side,” Kane added.

Reaching the ladder, all three followed Mark down. PITA sat on one of the crates, head tilted to one side and tail wagging.

“What brought you down here?” Dax asked, looking at the robot.

“Sandrina. She said she was tired of the stink jokes,” PITA replied. “As such, I’m relegated to the realm of guns and ammo. I think I’ll call this, the Bass Pro.”

“Not a bad place to be,” Kane chimed in.

“No, it is not,” PITA replied. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the physical setup to utilize your glorious arsenal.”

“With your burn everything now, ask questions later tendencies, that’s probably a good thing,” Dalia replied.

Mark activated the ramp while PITA let out a string of sarcastic laughs. Dax gave the robo-dog a pat on the head while walking out by Dalia’s side. Kane grabbed one of his comically large pistols and slid it in place on his hip.

“Do you think I should’ve brought a weapon too?” Dalia asked.

She glanced behind them.

“Not from your original loadout. The Fat Mac could cause a hull rupture, and your sound cannon would deafen everyone in a four-block radius,” Dax said, patting the pistol on his hip. “I’ve got you covered, though.”

“You always do.”

Reaching the hangar floor, Dax and Mark both waved at their reception party at the same time. Bleeze approached Mark and inspected him. He crossed his upper two arms while stroking his chin with the robotic one.

“Face is looking good, kid,” Bleeze mused.

“So is yours,” Mark replied.

“I meant with the scars. You healed up nice, can barely tell you were horribly stabbed in the face.”

“It’s a mix of good doctors, healthy eating and a big ol’ mug of coffee every morning.”

“Coffee?” Master Decombres asked. “Sounds exotic. What is it?”

“It’s a Terran beverage that we use to get us up and going in the morning,” Dax said.

He approached Bleeze. Shaking the broker’s hand, he then turned to Decombres, greeting the Caretaker.

“I would like to try some.”

Dax glanced back at the Junkyard. He grimaced and let out a soft groan.

“A week ago, I would’ve said no problem and shown you how to make yourself some, but we recently discovered not every race is compatible with caffeine,” Dax explained.

“Yeah, one of our new crewmembers nearly crapped himself to death,” Dalia added. “Would’ve died too if it weren’t for some quick science.”

Master Decombres’ brow raised. He looked at the crew with an air of superiority.

“And if I demand that you provide me with that information anyway?” he asked.

A tentative threat lingered in his tone. Dax turned to look at Kane, who slowed to a stop a few steps back.

“If you insist,” Kane said. “But if you decide to sh…”

“Under two conditions,” Dalia interrupted. “Before you have any, take a sample of the bacteria in your gut and start growing as much of it as your physicians can.”

Decombres looked at Dalia, curiosity and judgment in his eyes.

“Why?”

“So that if your body isn’t able to handle it, you don’t turn yourself into a triple P within four minutes,” Mark chimed in.

“Triple P?” Bleeze asked.

“Poop propelled projectile. Because in space, no one can hear your toots,” Mark said, making a flying motion with his hand.

“I’ve had some, is it really that big of an issue?” Bleeze asked.

“You want to go into the Junkyard and smell?” Dalia asked.

Bleeze’s eyes darted to the ship. He grimaced and shook his head.

“On second thought…”

“I’ll go get some grounds,” Kane grumbled, returning to the ship.

“How’s mining that destroyed planet going?” Dalia asked.

Master Decombres’ brow raised. A wry grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I would never return to a place that lost me that much of an investment,” he replied. “But your work there is greatly appreciated, and I believe I do owe you a favor for your expediency in handling the issue.”

“Which is exactly why we’re here,” Dax said.

“And what are you looking for?”

“Information. Have either of you heard of a tabby Bastet by the name of Con Etch Sty?” Dax asked.

“I can’t say that I have,” Decombres replied.

Bleeze’s brow furrowed. His eyes darted one way, then the other. After a few seconds, he let out a low chuckle.

“I’ve met him once. He tried to get into the guild on my branch.”

“And?” Dalia asked.

“And I didn’t let him join. He had an unsubstantiated god complex. He barged into my office and leaned over my desk to intimidate me. His hand slipped, he fell and split his cheek on my desk on the way down,” Bleeze explained. “He popped back up and pontificated for thirty minutes about how I’d be the dumbest lifeform in the galaxy to not hire him.”

“How did you not shoot him?” Decombres asked.

“Eh, he was so dumb, it was entertaining, I wanted to see where he’d go with it. When I turned him down, he gave me a bunch of empty threats and stormed out, saying that wasn’t the last I’d hear of the great Con Etch Sty!”

Bleeze put a hand in the air, wagging a finger for emphasis.

“And?” Dalia asked.

“It was the last I heard of Con Etch Sty,” Bleeze replied. “What’d he do for your encounter?”

“That definitely sounds like him.” Dax chuckled. “He tried to collect us, and bar that, blow us up and take what remained as a trophy.”

“You’re here, he’s not; I suppose he was dumb enough to engage you in direct combat?” Decombres asked, looking over the team.

“No,” Dalia scoffed. “He was cowardly and tried to hide a bomb on our ship.”

Bleeze looked at the Junkyard.

“For how often she gets some form of destroyed, she seems to be in fine fettle.”

“That’s because PITA took the bomb meant for us and hid it on his ship,” Dalia continued. “He blew himself up.”

Bleeze smirked.

“No loss there.”

Decombres lifted a hand, stepping closer to the group.

“You said he tried to collect you. What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. He was working for a man named Tussanu, who wanted the rare aliens and their ship for his collection,” Dax explained, motioning to the group. “We came here hoping you had some information on him.”

“Of course I have information on him; he’s been a thorn in my side since I made my first play on Tachyon,” Decombres explained.

Kane emerged from the Junkyard with a small, sealed bag and a filter in hand. He offered a wave before jogging up to the group and handing the items over.

“I’ll show you how to make the perfect cup with that after you get medical prep ready,” Kane said. “And if it doesn’t almost kill you, I’m willing to part with five more pounds as a way of trade.”

“Trade for what?” Decombres asked, eyeing the soldier.

“Trade for information. That way, we can keep the dead ship favor for a more even trade situation.”

“So be it. Come.”

They started toward the elevators. Dax’s eye scanned the hangar while they walked.

“How’s talking with insurance going?” Dax asked.

“Don’t get me started. Just tell me the good use you said it was going to be is actually going to pay off.”

“Would you say permanently crippling the Valtakuntera being good enough?” Dalia asked.

“Yes, it would,” Decombres replied.

16

DATA

Dax stood away from the group. He watched Jadis play with a few toys in her father’s office. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of such a happy little girl. He walked over to her, letting the sounds of Bleeze and her father fade into the background. Kneeling in front of her, he motioned to her toys.

“What are you working on here?” he asked.

“Quantum cubes,” she said.

She held up the car-shaped, plastic-looking toy. With a shift of one of the blocks, it glowed, twisted into itself and turned into a metal cube. Dax’s eyes widened. He sat on the floor and inspected the toy, ensuring his hands remained in his lap.

“That’s fascinating. How does it work?”

“The scientist who made them said something about quantum entanglement and molecular superpositions,” she replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t paying a lot of attention.”

“This kind of technology could do absolute wonders for the galaxy, for Tachyon.”

“It could, but the Valtakuntera decided they wanted the scientist for his mind,” she said, turning the second toy into a cube as well. “From what my father said, he overloaded his entire cache of quantum cubes. It destroyed the planet and all three fleets that’d come to collect him. But at least the people who would use it to destroy didn’t get it.”

Dax looked at the cubes. His eyes narrowed before putting a hand out. She placed the block in his palm. It was warm; its near slippery smooth surface thrummed softly against his skin. He fought every ounce of curiosity that screamed for him to play with it. He glanced at Jadis. Her features were unreadable. Handing the cube back to her, he offered another friendly smile.

“You use it as a toy because if you didn’t, the Valtakuntera would be able to read the energy signature, don’t you?”

Jadis nodded, continuing to play with her cubes, turning them into wooden blocks.

“That’s what Daddy says,” she replied.

“Your dad’s a smart man.”

“That’s what he says about you.”

A pinprick of pride formed in Dax’s chest. He pushed off the ground, rising to his feet.

“It was good to see you again, Jadis. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

She flipped the wood blocks, pressing them together. They morphed into a two-foot-long pole.

“You too,” she said, giving it a spin.

Dax rejoined the group while Decombres pulled up a series of holograms to hover over his desk. A series of graphs, charts and number tables shifted in front of them.

“This is everything I have on Tussanu. Unfortunately, all I have is a name. Only a handful of people have ever seen him,” Decombres explained.

“Rumor has it, every time his identity gets burned, he changes his face, his name, and continues his same little game too,” Bleeze added.

Dax looked at Kane. The soldier placed his coffee paraphernalia down and crossed his arms.

“We know what he looks like. Dax and I saw him.”

Decombres’ eyes widened.

“Describe him to me,” he ordered, voice trembling with excitement.

“I can do you one better,” Dax said.

He placed his hand where the translator was buried under his skin and ran his fingers over the disk.

“That is, if we’re still in range of the ship. These things don’t have the reach our suit radios do.”

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a buzz in the back of his skull. He felt a tickle run over the translator’s location and partway down his neck. He wriggled, itching at it.

“What was that?” he muttered.

“Dax, what are you doing? I’m still trying to get un-stinky,” Sandrina said.

“Ah, water, makes sense. I need you to do me a favor,” Dax looked at Mark. “None of us brought our suits and Mark left his staff on the ship. Can you see if the Junkyard is able to transfer the recording I took on Dal’no’nuuur to my translator?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, but the translators interpret language. The data stored in my suit is stored in a series of ones and zeros,” Dax replied. “And the Junkyard proved data’s just a language most people can’t read.”

“Fine, give me a second,” Sandrina huffed.

“Why not just have the robot bring the data up?” Mark asked.

“Because I don’t trust PITA on that ship unsupervised,” Dax replied.

“Well, then stop looking!” Sandrina shouted. “No, now go plug your nose with something if you’re going to complain about it that much!”

Dax grimaced. Dalia tilted her head to one side.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked.

“Apparently, Sandrina’s still a bit stinky,” Dax replied.

“Makes sense. We haven’t been gone that long,” Kane added.

“You know, what you’re trying to do probably won’t work,” Mark said. “I can just run down there, get the data and come right back.”

“I’d like to see what he’s thinking,” Decombres jumped in.

“Okay, Junkyard, scan the suit I just activated,” Sandrina said with a huff. “Did you find a video file that was recorded during our time on Dal’no’nuuur?”

She was silent for a few seconds before sighing.

“The Junkyard says there’s three video files. Which one do you want?” Sandrina asked.

Dax felt the nape of his neck and ears heat up.

“Just the last one,” he blurted. “All I need is the last one.”

“Okay, Junkyard, send the last one to his translator,” Sandrina ordered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to finish my shower.”

“Thank you,” Dax said.

The connection died. A few seconds later, Dax’s translator buzzed, rattling his skull and temporarily blurring his vision. He pointed at the desk.

“Can you set this up to receive transmissions?”

Decombres made several swipes on the smooth surface. A glowing circle appeared in the center of his desk.

“Be my guest,” he said.

Dax hopped forward, leaning over the large desk. He kicked his legs while craning his head to one side.

“What are you doing?” Bleeze asked.

“You’ve got one of our translators,” Mark replied. “He needs to make contact to transfer the data.”

Dax tried to touch the device to the table. Unable to make enough contact, he flopped onto his back and pressed his own head down.

“It might’ve been easier for me to do it,” Dalia suggested.

“No, I’m good. I’ve got it,” Dax countered.

A beep left the desk. Dalia grabbed Dax’s leg and pulled him back. She let him go before helping him back to his feet. Straightening out his clothes, he offered her a thumbs-up.

“Thanks.”

“I got you, boo,” she replied.

Decombres pulled the file across his desk and put it in the holographic generator. The data that hung in the air flickered before taking the form of Dax’s video. Bleeze reached up and paused it once Tussanu was visible. The color in his face drained. Two hands moved to rest on his head while the other two dropped limply to his side.

“That’s not possible,” he whimpered.

“You know this man?” Decombres asked.

The question drew everyone’s attention toward the broker.

“This is my sister’s new boyfriend,” Bleeze said.

“We’ve met your sister,” Mark said, letting out a disgusted grunt. “She looks remarkably like you. Why would someone that handsome go for someone so far below his league… No offense.”

“Oh, none taken,” Bleeze replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Mark, that was rude,” Kane warned.

“Eh, she’s as ugly on the outside as she is on the inside, that’s my personal belief. It’s not my fault we share the same brow ridge.”

“And hairline,” Decombres added.

“Oh, ha-ha, look who’s got jokes,” Bleeze grumbled, looking up at him. “But the kid’s got a point. Why would someone as powerful as Tussanu be interested in my sister?”

“That’s painfully simple,” Dalia said without skipping a beat. “It’s her AI. She gave us what she thought was a lemon, not realizing she’d actually succeeded.”

“The Junkyard does have glitches in her linguistic centers,” Kane jumped in. “She’s good but can’t say she’s perfect.”

Dax watched Dalia closely. Her features twitched and contorted while she put her idea together.

“Either way, I’m willing to bet she’s perfected her AI. Once word got out, he probably pursued her in order to get his hands on it.”

Bleeze took a few steps back. His real, lower arm moved up and rubbed on his facial hair. His eyes glazed over while a soft mutter left his lips.

“Did we just shut him down?” Dax asked.

“No, he’s working through something,” Decombres replied.

Kane stepped forward. He placed his hand on the table.

“We can use his sister as our in. From there, we see what he wants with us.”

“He wants us as trophies,” Dax cut in, the video starting to play in the background. “You heard the conversation. If we show up there and ask what he wants, we’re as good as mounted on his wall.”

“Ginger Spice just said he doesn’t know what we look like,” Mark said.

He motioned to the hologram.

“How about we play the ‘we stole the Junkyard out from underneath the owner’s nose gambit’?” Mark asked. “From there, we find out what he wants, and if there’s something that can be done to force him to back off.”

“And if he just wants us?” Dalia asked.

“At that point? A couple of rounds to the back of the head shouldn’t be too hard,” Mark suggested.

“Tussanu doesn’t just let anyone walk into his home,” Decombres added. “No one really knows where he is.”

“No,” Bleeze said, wagging one finger. “But he does have his minions come to his house once a month for a party and to provide their captures for his vaults.”

“Great, we find one of his operatives, we find him,” Dax chimed in.

“Or, and I hate to even suggest this, I can reach out to my sister. We can use her to get an invitation,” Bleeze huffed.

“We’ll do that,” Kane said.

“If I’m going to reconnect with that manipulative gaslighter, I want a job from you guys for free.”

“As long as it doesn’t call for hurting anyone, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re in,” Dax replied, looking around his team. They nodded.

“Fine, from what little I do know about this guy, though, your rag-tag outfit won’t be good enough. You’re going to need new clothes.”

Dalia’s face lit up.

“Shopping spree?”

Dax, Kane and Mark all let out a groan.

17

SPREE

Dax stood with his hands in his pockets. Kane was to his right and Mark to the left. His shoulders dropped at the extravagant stores that stretched out seemingly endlessly in front of them. Men, women and beings he couldn’t identify stood at the entry of every store, in uniforms, at attention. Dalia rushed from one entrance to another. Giggles of joy and adoration bubbled up from her while rushing around the empty center.

“We’re going to be here for hours, aren’t we?” Mark complained.

“Days,” Kane replied.

“You know how I can tell neither one of you have ever actually gone shopping with a woman?” Dax asked, looking at his team.

“How?” Mark asked.

“You didn’t say weeks.”

“Yeah, I’m out,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I’m going to go get the arm fixed and upgraded a bit.”

“We’ve got to get clothes for this job,” Kane countered. “We need you here.”

Mark looked around the court. He walked over to a map of the entire deck. Using an option to plan a route, he wrote down his measurements and shoe size.

“I’m going to let you guys have your fun up here. I’m going to have my fun in the lower levels,” Mark explained. “That’s my size. I trust your taste.”

With that, Mark walked past Bleeze and Decombres. He summoned the elevator then disappeared behind its doors.

“What is this place?” Dax asked.

“It gives the higher end investors that spend time on Tachyon a little taste of home,” Decombres replied. “Every luxury one could ask for can be found on this deck. And as the caretaker of this facility, I had it cleared out for today. Every staff member will help you with anything you might need.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Bleeze scoffed.

“Thank you,” Dax said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the puck that held their finances.

“To be clear, we’re not taking this as a favor. We fully intending to pay our way.”

“So be it,” Decombres replied. “I’ll pull some strings and see what I can find.”

“And I’ll go try and talk with my sister,” Bleeze added. “I’d almost rather get punched in the face.”

Without breaking eye contact with Dax or skipping a beat, Decombres punched Bleeze in the cheek. He staggered to one side, rubbing his face.

“Seriously?” he snarled.

“Would you still rather get punched in the face than talk with your sister?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Bleeze said before throwing his hands up. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to. No need to deck me again.”

“As you wish,” Decombres mused. “Is there anything else we can do for you before we go?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to connect with Ruthnar and the Dracolich with no luck. Any idea why?” Dax asked.

“They’ve been hired to escort a Ryshy supply run through pirate-filled space. They’re down to a skeleton crew who can’t leave their facility until the main contingent is back.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Dax grumbled. “I was hoping to have a drink with him.”

“And they have the best fights,” Kane added. “Thank you. We’ll let you know when we’re done.”

They turned back. Dalia charged them at full speed. Dax’s heart leapt into his throat. He instinctively braced himself for the inevitable impact. She slid, stopping a few feet away from them.

“This place is amazing. And we can pick whatever we want?”

“That we can; let’s go find you something,” Dax replied.

She grabbed his hand and pulled. He let out a grunt at the sharp pain that shot through his joints once his feet left the ground. Barely catching himself, he ran after her, her strong hand still wrapped tightly around his wrist.

Dalia dragged him up to the first store that was all women’s clothing. A Galio stood at the door in uniform. She extended her arm, bringing Dalia and Dax to a screeching halt.

“I am capable of following you without you nearly dislocating every joint in my arm, you know that, right?” Dax asked.

She looked at his pale hand, the blood flow cut off from her tight grip. Instantly, she let go.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay, you’re just excited,” Dax replied.

He shook his hand out. Color returned to his appendage, accompanied by the tingle of pins and needles.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this isn’t the store for you,” the Galio said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Dalia’s eyebrow raised. She stepped toward the employee.

“We have permission from Master Decombres, the Caretaker of Tachyon himself, to shop all we want here, unimpeded.”

“I’m aware of that,” the Galio replied.

She motioned to the inside of the shop. Dax glanced in to see the store’s contents specifically designed for races smaller than himself.

“We also have a lot of money your business will miss out on,” Dalia added.

Dax placed a hand on her shoulder. With a jerk, she pulled away before storming off.

“We will not be back here!” she shouted.

Dax looked at the Galio and grimaced, his cheeks heating up.

“Are you coming with me?” Dalia asked.

“Nothing personal, just can’t resist a good storm off,” Dax whispered.

“I understand,” the Galio said with a grin.

“DAX!” Dalia shouted.

“You made a big mistake… HUGE!” Dax shouted loud enough to appease Dalia.

He turned and rushed toward her, catching up in just a few seconds.

“You do realize that the largest article of clothing was a dress that wouldn’t fit on your forearm, right?” Dax asked.

“About six seconds too late,” Dalia replied. “But I’ve got face to save.”

Dax let out a chuckle before looping his arm in with hers.

“Come on, let’s find you a big and tall,” he mused.

“You guys forget about me?” Kane asked, joining the group.

“No, but I was thinking you can get your and Sandrina’s clothes. Dalia and I can grab something for Henuva, and since Mark’s not here, all three of us can go find him a little something special,” Dax replied.

“Yeah, right,” Kane scoffed. “Every time we come here, we end up in some sort of fight. This place may be marble and chrome, but I don’t trust that every single one of these people won’t jump us if they get the chance.”

“Kane, we’re in the posh part of town, not East Saint Louis,” Dax countered.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m staying with you guys.”

Dax stopped next to a Galio. He motioned toward Dalia before asking in the scaled man’s native tongue.

“Where’s a store that could accommodate my lovely Battle Bonded here with a formal dress?” Dax asked.

The assistant looked her up and down. He pointed at a fork in the path before them.

“Go left. There will be a store with a Pachymis standing outside. You should find something in her size there.”

“Thank you.” Dax pointed to the fork. “This way.”

Arm still looped with Dalia’s, he walked with her and Kane between the stores. Reaching one whose name translated to ‘Large and Mighty,’ Dax looked inside to see a familiar face, taking a drink.

“Whirset, is that you?” Dax asked.

The Pachymis turned. His eyes widened and let out an ear-ringing trumpet.

“Dax, I thought you were dead!” he shouted.

“Us? You were the one guarding Bleeze’s door when the death squad hit,” Kane jumped in.

“I wasn’t, though,” Whirset corrected. “I’d been given leave to see my lady. I was gone when the attack happened. Bleeze contacted me after he recovered and got me a safer job here. What can we do for you at the Large and Mighty?”

“We are looking for formal wear and were hoping you had something that could accommodate Dalia,” Dax suggested.

“You came to the right spot. This is the only store on this deck that sells anything in your size.”

Dalia’s shoulders dropped.

“Aw man,” she huffed.

“We’re not going to end your fun here,” Dax chimed in. “I’ll let you shop for me too.”

That brought a smile back to her face. She broke hold with Dax and followed Whirset into the store. Dax and Kane followed, but the Pachymis stopped them.

“You don’t get to see the lady dressed up before the big reveal on the day,” he countered. “Stay here. We’ll be back when we’re done.”

“This is going to take forever,” Kane grumbled.

“I’m starting to see why you got divorced,” Dax teased.

“I’m just saying, I’d rather not die of old age before we leave this deck.”

“Kane, my brother in Christ, if there’s something I’ve learned that I can teach you, it’s that fighting it will only make everything last longer. Just lean into it and try to enjoy yourself. If you can do that, this whole thing goes from tedious to surprisingly pleasant.”

Dax looked to his left. The wall was covered in hundreds of different fancy shoes in different sizes. He made his way over to it and started inspecting those with a humanoid foot structure in mind.

“Do you really think you’re going to find a shoe that will fit you here?” Kane asked. “You’ve seen how big some of these species can be.”

“Yeah, but it’s hard to find a fourteen at your everyday store,” Dax replied.

He glanced back to see Kane looking at his feet. His bushy brow raised before he crossed his arms and stroked on his mustache.

“How have I known you for the better part of a decade and not noticed that you’ve got boats for feet?” Kane asked.

“I’ve got a charming personality and a radiant complexion,” Dax teased.

He grabbed a dress boot and inspected it. The exterior leather was polished to an almost mirror finish. Inside, it was soft. Dax ran his hand across the sole. Firm with a decent arch support.

“No way your foot’s actually that big. Put it against yours.”

Dax placed one hand on the wall. He crossed his right leg over his left knee and placed the soles of the shoes together. They were the exact same size. Kane took the boot and inspected it. He let out a whistle.

“Can I assist you with anything?” another Pachymis asked before Kane could speak.

“Yes, I’d actually like to buy these. And if you have a pair that size in brown, I’ll take those too.”

“Of course. Will you be paying as you shop, or on a tab, all at once?”

“All at once, please.”

“Please hold out your pay disk,” the Pachymis said.

Dax produced the puck. The employee pulled one out as well and tapped it twice against Dax’s. A hologram of their running total appeared.

“I’ll produce those boots for you momentarily. I just need to get them from the back.”

The employee turned and walked away through the countless stands of clothes. Dax turned and put the display boot back. Kane moved in next to him.

“If what they say about shoe size is right, it’s no wonder Dalia’s happy all the time,” Kane muttered.

Dax chuckled. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged before looking at Kane’s feet.

“What size are you?”

“An average ten. But on the plus side, it doesn’t take special stores to find replacements in an emergency.”

Dax turned back to the store. He looked around, barely able to see Dalia’s and Whirset’s heads over the clothes racks.

“Did you ever hear about why Satan started his revolt in Heaven?” Dax asked, looking at his teammate.

“I’m not much of a Bible man, but if I remember correctly, wasn’t he jealous of the other creations?” Kane asked.

“No,” Dax said, shaking his head. “It’s because he had hooves.”

18

BUY

Dax pushed a cart piled high with boxes. Dalia walked ahead, a slight skip in her step. Kane walked at Dax’s side, eyeing the high-tech storage devices.

“How much did that run us?” Kane asked.

Dax let go of the cart with one hand and rubbed his face. He let out a slight groan while pressing forward.

“We could have a second ship right now,” he said softly. “But, like, not any second ship, the Rolls Royce of second ships.”

Kane let out a groan.

“Which box is mine?”

Dax pointed to one on the bottom shelf of the cart.

“Did I really get that much?” Kane asked.

“Oh, no, that’s for you, Mark and me. The rest are hers,” Dax replied, nodding at Dalia.

“Not all mine,” Dalia said, summoning the elevator. “I got some things for our other crew members.”

“You are aware that linguistically, the phrase ‘some things’ indicates a small amount, right?” Dax asked.

“We’ve worn the same two outfits for years,” Dalia said, stepping into the opening elevator. “I don’t think getting a whole new wardrobe is such a bad thing.”

“While your logic isn’t wrong on that front,” Dax said, rolling into the elevator. “Did it have to take up so much of our funds?”

Dalia shrugged. The elevator doors closed behind Kane. The box descended for several minutes before slowing. It stopped, then started moving horizontally for a while longer before continuing its vertical movement.

“At least you pre-paid for the Broken Shield,” Kane said, leaning against the wall. “Last thing we need is insufficient funds when we really need them.”

Dalia crossed her arms and turned toward the soldier.

“I especially don’t want to hear it from you, sir,” she countered. “I happen to know you’re patching the holes worn into your jumpsuit with pieces of a torn-up jumpsuit, so everything matches, and no one notices.”

“That’s called being thrifty,” Kane countered.

“It’s called being cheap.”

“You’ve got a Ship of Theseus thing going on with your clothes?” Dax asked.

“No,” Kane said. “That paradox implies I’m changing out every piece of my jumpsuit. I’m not, just the parts that wear out.”

The elevator let out a ding. Its doors opened and Dax pulled on the cart and backpedaled into the hangar.

“So, it’s the Crotch of Theseus, then?” Dax asked.

“Eh, crotch and armpits,” Kane replied.

He and Dalia followed. As they approached the Junkyard, PITA trotted out from the cargo bay.

“Are they at least paying you minimum wage for being their personal butler?” the robot asked.

“Kane can’t afford my rates,” Dax called back.

“And Dalia can?” PITA asked.

“I pay in other ways,” Dalia replied flirtatiously.

She moved to the opposite end of the cart, grabbed it and lifted it off the ground. Dax picked his side up and they ascended the ramp. PITA looked up at Kane.

“Does she realize what she just called herself?” he asked.

“Look, I’m just here to deliver. Then I need to make sure Mark hasn’t gone and gotten himself blown up, stabbed or mugged,” Kane replied.

“His luck, it’s all three,” Dax replied.

“Doubtful.”

Sandrina’s voice echoed down the ladder.

“He brought the Junkyard’s body with him.”

“That’s what we need, a realistic naked robot running around.” Dax rolled his eyes.

“She’s in a jumpsuit if that helps,” Sandrina called down.

“Not if it’s one of the jumpsuits Kane uses to patch his clothes,” Dalia teased.

“Very cute,” Kane grunted.

Dax turned toward Dalia, placing his hands into his pockets.

“If we leave you alone with Sandrina, will that be a mistake?”

Dalia shifted her weight from one leg to the other before crossing her arms.

“Sandrina,” Kane called out. “I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” Sandrina replied with a sigh.

“Time for what?” Dalia asked.

“For you two to sort out this coldness you’ve got going on,” Kane replied.

“She’s got a book,” Dax confessed. “More like a journal. She’s having trouble figuring out what to say, so she’s been writing it down. May not be a bad idea to give it a read.”

Dalia’s brow raised while she looked at her Battle Bonded with a cold, harsh glare.

“And how long did you know about this?” Dalia asked.

“Couple of weeks,” Dax confessed. “I didn’t think it was my place to say. Since it’s coming out anyway, may as well tell you so you know it’s not some covert manipulation.”

“You really ought to give it a read,” Kane added before she could protest.

Sandrina’s journal dropped down the ladder with a thud. Dalia walked over to it. She picked it up, opened the cover and flipped through the pages. Dax’s chest tightened while he studied the skeptical, frustrated expression on Dalia’s face.

“And hey, when all is said and done, you two could have a fashion show,” PITA chimed in. “You women like fashion shows, right?”

“PITA,” Dax grumbled. “Not the…”

“That sounds fun,” Sandrina called down.

“I don’t care what you think sounds fun,” Dalia called up.

“You’re more than welcome to join us instead,” Dax offered.

Dalia looked at the book. She chewed on her upper lip while her eyes narrowed. A low growl emanated from her, vibrating the very air around her.

“I’m not operating on any observations, just what I’ve been downloaded with,” PITA said, breaking the oppressive silence.

“I’ll stay,” Dalia relented, closing the book.

“That’s good to hear,” Kane said.

“I’m not doing it for you,” Dalia countered, looking at Dax. “Or you.”

“Thank you?” Sandrina asked.

“Definitely not you,” Dalia called up before looking at PITA. “And I’ll make sure you regret making that offer.”

A hint of relief washed over Dax as she relented. PITA approached Dax; his eyes turned a fearful yellow.

“What does she mean by that?” PITA asked.

“You’ll find out,” Kane mused. “We’ll call it retribution for incessantly mocking her Battle Bonded.”

“Can I come with you?” PITA asked with a whimper.

His tail swiveled to point downward.

“You don’t want to go into Tachyon’s underbelly,” Dax replied. “Whatever she’s got planned for you is better than what’s waiting down there.”

“They’d probably pick you apart for scrap and integrate your pieces into themselves,” Kane added.

Dax approached Dalia. He placed a hand on the small of her back and gave her a quick kiss.

“We’ll be back soon,” he said softly. “Try and be nice.”

“No promises,” Dalia replied, returning his kiss. “Don’t get into any fights.”

Dax started to walk backward out of the cargo bay. He extended his hands out to his sides.

“Come on, sweety, you know me,” he teased.

Dalia turned her attention to Kane before pointing the book at Dax.

“At least make sure he doesn’t get himself shot, stabbed or sliced open this time, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kane replied.

He turned and joined Dax. Both men walked toward the elevator. Looking over his shoulder, Dax saw Henuva sitting in the pilot’s chair.

“What do you think would be worse, leaving Henuva in there for a fashion show, or taking him with us into a mining station where everyone hates his people?” Dax asked.

Kane summoned the elevator. He looked back at the ship as well before crossing his arms.

“He one hundred percent got the short end of that stick. But at least this way, we won’t stick out too badly.”

The elevator doors opened. Both men stepped in and Dax selected the lower levels.

“We’re a unique race. We’re going to stick out like a sore thumb down there without something to draw the eye.”

Kane scoffed and shook his head.

“Did you not see the same people I did down there? Everyone’s so desperate to be unique and draw attention that no one pays attention. It’ll be different if we have a species everyone hates with us.”

“Right, like Syndrome said, ‘When everyone’s super, no one will be’,” Dax added.

“Who’s Syndrome?” Kane asked.

“Just someone from a classic movie,” Dax replied.

He ran his fingers across his translator to connect with Mark. He got nothing but static. Rolling his eyes, he turned toward Kane.

“He’s either out of range, incapacitated, or otherwise distracted. How do you want to find him?”

“He’s getting Henuva’s arm fixed,” Kane said. “Aside from the Broken Shield, there’s only one person… people? How would you classify that armorist?”

“Depends on whether the species is a hive mind or not. Asexual reproduction indicates genetically the same. If that’s it, then I’d say they’re more like a set of whatever-tuplets—same bodies, different brains, different person. If it’s a hive mind, then an argument could be made that they’re a singular creature.”

Dax looked at Kane’s bored and disappointed expression.

“Right, not what’s important.” Dax chuckled. “You’re right. That’s a solid place to start.”

“Just keep your eyes peeled for any gangs that may want to try and get the jump on us again.”

Dax’s hand drifted to the pistol on his hip. The elevator doors opened, flooding them with the stench of sweat, rust and oil. They stepped into the streets, almost instantly being swept away by the crowd.

Dax tightened every muscle in his body. He pushed through the crowd with surprising ease. Kane stayed close behind him. Within a few minutes, they were in the courtyard of their armorist.

“Keep your eyes up,” Dax said.

He drew his pistol in unison with Kane.

“You take high, I’ll take low,” Kane replied.

They walked through the mostly empty courtyard. Every sense of Dax’s was on edge, anticipating an ambush. Reaching the door, a wave of relief washed over him, having gone un-attacked. Opening the door, he and Kane stepped in.

The odd alien stood at the desk, working on Henuva’s arm with the Dal’no robotic metal.

“Are you looking for your friend?” they asked, looking at the drawn weapons. “Will you put those away! No better guarantee to find trouble than walk around with guns drawn.”

Dax and Kane glanced at each other before holstering their weapons.

“We are. Do you know where he is?” Dax asked in Bastet.

“He kept getting in my way, so I told him to get a drink. One door to the right. Leave your guns here, though,” the armorist said. “They check weapons at the door and tend to ‘lose’ the receipts before you come back out.”

“How do we know you won’t run off with them?” Kane asked.

“Because you guys are connected to Master Decombres,” the armorist scoffed. “If I screw you guys over, he’ll make sure I have to start from scratch again.”

Dax shrugged, looking at Kane.

“I mean, that’s a solid point.”

“Okay, but if the wool’s getting pulled on us, I’m killing every single one of those with my bare hands,” Kane said.

“I’m sure that’s understandable,” Dax replied.

Both men removed their weapons and placed them on the countertop. Dax translated Kane’s threat. The armorist shrugged before motioning toward the arm.

“I screw you guys, I’m screwing myself,” the armorist replied. “And when is that any fun?”

“It’s always better with a partner,” Kane mused.

He turned and made his way toward the door. Dax stifled a laugh and followed. They went to the bar door. A Galio, more robot than flesh, was the bouncer. He patted them down before letting them in. The stench was even more concentrated inside.

It turned Dax’s stomach as it washed over him. He winced before looking around the bar. Half of the chairs were empty despite the place being packed. Kane tapped Dax on the chest and pointed at the back of the bar. Mark stood next to the Junkyard robot in tattered clothes. Dozens of men and women surrounded the sly, smiling young man. His face brightened, seeing Dax and Kane.

“GUYS!” he shouted. “Did you bring Dalia with you?”

A waitress walked past Dax with shots of an unknown substance on a tray. Dax grabbed one and threw it back. He winced at the burn while the patrons turned to face them.

“This is a bad idea,” Dax grumbled.

Kane snatched a shot, throwing it back as well before gripping the glass tightly.

“Just because it’s a bad idea, doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time.”

19

BRAWL

Dax’s shot glass spun as it flew. It struck one of the walls of muscle in the head. A deep snarl emanated from his throat. Half of the group turned toward him and Kane. Centering himself, Dax planted his feet and raised his fists. A roar erupted from the hooligans. Half continued their assault on Mark, whose blind spots were protected by the Junkyard. The other half charged Kane and Dax.

Dashing forward, Dax closed the distance between himself and the largest of the group. The giant swung. His forearm opened up. Machines flipped his fist around for a square, steel block.

Dodging to the side, Dax was met with the shin of a tall Galio kicking around his target. Throwing his arms up, he blocked the kick. Jumping back with its momentum, he narrowly outmaneuvered the block of steel before it slammed into the ground, denting the metal floor.

Dax took a deep breath, letting his adrenaline surge through him. Time slowed to a relative crawl. His boots hit the ground. Before they started to slide, he leapt forward. With all his might, he thrust his open palm into the jaw of the noseless alligator-skinned man.

The patron’s head whipped to one side. Before a second strike could be thrown, he fell to the ground unconscious. A sting ran through Dax’s hand. He looked at his palm. Shallow cuts from the hit littered his skin.

“Sorry about that, Doctor Conners,” Dax muttered.

Steel toes of a boot dug into Dax’s ribs. A shot of pain howled through his torso. He staggered to one side as the Galio jumped out of his blind spot with hydraulic legs. Squaring up with his second opponent, Kane was being driven backward by a shoulder barge just behind the new target.

The soldier caught his toes on a lip on the floor. He threw himself backward, lifting his attacker off the ground and throwing him into a table. Using the momentum, Kane leaped and dropped a flying elbow into his target’s head, knocking him out.

“People’s elbow?” Dax asked.

“CAN YOU SMEEEELLLLL WHAT THE KANE IS COOKIN’!” Mark shouted from the center of his horde.

“Shut up and keep fighting,” Kane growled, clambering back to his feet.

The cybernetic Galio leg flew at Dax, striking his sternum. Thundering pain surged through his body. His feet were lifted off the ground and he fell to his back. The wind was forced from his lungs on contact, causing them to burn and a fit of coughs to erupt. Holding his throbbing chest, he put a hand up to the advancing Galio, who hesitated.

“Can’t we all just get along?” he wheezed in the alien’s native tongue.

He hesitated at the sound of his own language. It bought Dax the few seconds he needed to take a deep breath and recover from the kick. He held his injured demeanor until his opponent moved in for a stomp.

Dax rolled to his back and the Galio’s foot smashed into the ground between Dax’s arm and side. In the blink of an eye, Dax grabbed his opponent’s ankle. Throwing his lower body up, he wrapped his legs around the Galio’s waist.

“Timber!” Dax shouted.

Summoning every ounce of his strength, Dax pulled his legs back toward the ground. With a yank of the foot, he unbalanced the Galio, knocking him to the floor. With a quick twist of his hands, he felt the cybernetic limb crumple.

“No more kicking for you, grasshopper,” he snarled.

Climbing back to his feet, he looked up to see Kane rushing at him, holding a member of Bleeze’s race by the collar.

“Little help?” Kane shouted.

Dax extended his arm. He braced himself. Kane ran the man into Dax’s braced limb. The impact flipped him backward, landing him face first onto the floor. Both men quickly maneuvered so their backs were against one another.

“How you doing, Mark?” Kane shouted.

“Good,” Mark replied.

“Incorrect,” the Junkyard replied. “I cannot protect you all. Judging by numbers, the odds aren’t in our favor.”

“Never tell me the odds,” Mark and Kane said in unison.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kane grumbled.

Dax blocked an incoming punch. With a headbutt, his attacker stumbled back and sat down.

“We’re doing it, Mark, we’re turning him into a n⁠—”

Before he could finish, a fist smacked into the side of his head from behind. He stumbled forward. Turning around, he saw Kane was crouched while his opening was wrapping up a follow through.

Ignoring the ringing in his ear. Dax charged Kane. Using the soldier as a vault horse, he dropkicked the man who’d punched him in the chest. He stumbled back into the bar while Dax caught himself on Kane and got back to his feet.

“What was that for?” Dax asked, rubbing his head.

Kane maneuvered around Dax. He punched the patron against the bar, knocking him out.

“Never call me that word,” Kane warned.

“Face it, you’re turning into a nerd,” Mark shouted.

The young man turned and punched at the Junkyard’s target; she punched at his. Crossing arms, they knocked out their respective attackers.

“HEY!” a voice boomed.

The sound reverberated through Dax like a war drum, rattling his insides. Everyone fell quiet. He turned to see a Tardig standing at the entrance. He blocked the visibility to the door.

Dax’s heart started to race. The lump in his throat returned as the Tardig picked up a chair and pulled its legs off like they were nothing. Holding four metal rods, the giant tapped them together.

“Hey, this is just a friendly barroom brawl,” Dax said, putting his hands out. “Aren’t the rules no weapons? It’s only fun if nobody dies.”

“Wrong,” the Tardig snarled. “It’s only fun when somebody dies.”

“You just had to go and pick a fight,” Kane grumbled.

“This wasn’t me,” Mark replied.

“Don’t like,” Kane scolded.

“He’s being honest,” the Junkyard replied. “They said no droids. I informed them I’m an artificial intelligence. They called me dumb. I didn’t appreciate that.”

Dax’s heart sank. He reached into his sleeve and pulled his Dal’no blade, holding it in a reverse grip.

“Do you really want to do this?” Dax asked.

“Hey, no weapons!” the bartender shouted.

He drew a gun from behind the bar. His cybernetic eye widened as he raised it. Dax looked at the Tardig. The adrenaline pumping through his body kept him loose. He drew in every sight, every sound in vivid color and infinite complexity while staring down the giant.

“No weapons,” the Tardig growled.

He dropped the chair legs. Dax slid his knife back up his sleeve.

“You can’t take that thing head on,” Kane whispered.

“I don’t think I can take it side on, either,” Dax replied.

His eyes darted around the mountain of muscle and cybernetics. The Tardig rolled his shoulders back. A plate in the center of his chest opened, revealing a small nozzle. Dax turned. He shoved Kane as hard as he could. Turning back to dodge, he was met with a cloud that burned his nose and filled his mouth with a bitter taste.

Dax started coughing. He instinctively covered his nose and mouth with his hand. The bar around him started to spin, causing him to drop to one knee. A warped, down-pitched laugh filled the air while the Tardig approached him.

Kane darted into his field of view and tried to fight off the massive being, only to be backhanded to the ground. Colors blurred and shifted while Dax continued to cough. A lump formed in the back of his throat when the Tardig’s hand grabbed him by the head. It was so large; he felt the fingers dig into the top of his back.

The Tardig snarled something. His words were muffled as if under water. A ripple of pain ran down Dax’s spine while he was being pulled off the ground by his head. He let out a shout of pain, grabbing at the Tardig’s hand.

Once at eye level, the beast pulled Dax in close. Hot, stinking breath burned his face as the being continued to taunt him. The coughing stopped, and the lump in his throat grew even more.

The Tardig balled up two massive fists and drew back. He started to laugh. Dax’s senses sharpened to a pinpoint. He tightened the back of his throat. Burning filled his mouth once again.

With all his might, he spat. The glob of translucent saliva splashed into the Targid’s mouth. His eyes widened. In a knee-jerk reaction, he threw Dax across the bar. The liberating moment of weightlessness was quickly overshadowed by a face-first impact into a wall, cracking the wood paneling.

His impact went straight to the numb pain. Tingling rippled across his skull and down his back while he pulled himself to his feet. He ran the back of his hand across his cheek. Blood stained his skin.

Dax turned his attention to the patrons around him. A hint of fear filled their faces. The fighting seemed to stop mid-punch. Half of the bar looked at him, the other half toward the Tardig.

Dax watched the giant stumble. He tried to catch himself on the bar. His arm gave out before he fell face first into the ground. After a few seconds, a deep snoring left the Tardig.

Dax took a step. His knee gave out under his weight. Wobbling, he caught himself on a table. Standing straight up, his adrenaline rush ran its course causing the room to spin. Focusing on the bar, he moved toward it.

‘One foot in front of the other, Dax. You’ve done this walk before. It’s just like college,’ he thought to himself.

Reaching the bar, he leaned against the cold metal before turning toward the patrons, putting his weight on his elbows.

“Anybody else?” Dax asked, looking at the unconscious Tardig. “Or can we just buy a round for everyone and put this unpleasantness behind us?”

The patrons surrounding Mark and the Junkyard stepped away. One even helped Kane to his feet. Dax turned toward the bartender and tapped the bar with two fingers.

“A round for the room and two for me,” he ordered.

Before his team could join him, two shots sat in front of him.

“I’ve never seen tech that can do that,” the bartender.

He glanced at the unconscious Tardig.

“It’s not tech. My species is the deadliest in the galaxy. So deadly, certain races decided to glass our home world, but we survived,” Dax said.

He motioned to Mark and Kane. Throwing back a shot, he grew louder, turning for the whole bar to hear him.

“Out of the charred remains, we put together a ship. We are the Bandits; our ship is the Junkyard and if anyone tries to make a move on us again, we will no longer choose the path of non-lethality.”

“Okay, doctor, let’s get out of here before we make a bigger mess for ourselves,” Kane said.

Mark and the Junkyard joined. Dax left the second shot behind. They stepped over the unconscious Tardig and out of the bar.

“You know, just because I have a PhD doesn’t mean you have to call me doctor,” Dax said, retrieving his weapons.

“I was being facetious,” Kane countered, looking at Mark and the Junkyard.

“Can one of you tell me how Kane was able to predict a bar fight would be happening because of you guys?” Dax asked.

“He knows us pretty well?” Mark asked. “How’s your neck, by the way? That looked like that hurt.”

“If I needed a chiropractor, that would’ve felt amazing. Now, let’s get out of here before that big guy wakes up.”

20

CLEAR

Dax tilted his head to one side. An empty pop emanated from his neck. Grumbling, he approached their ship.

“Now I’ve got a click in my neck,” Dax muttered.

“Don’t you mean crick?” Mark asked, holding Henuva’s repaired arm.

“No, I mean click. I tilt my head and my neck cracks.”

“I had a click in my ankle once,” Kane chimed in. “Every time I’d take a step, it’d pop. When I’d be in water, it’d sound like a pistol shrimp taking a shot.”

Dax looked at Kane’s ankle. Nothing but the thud of his boots emerged from his steps.

“How long did it take to heal?” Dax asked.

“It didn’t. After nearly compromising a mission, I got ceramic plating inserted. No more clicking after that,” Kane said.

Mark looked at Dax with a wide smile and bright eyes.

“No, I’m not going to let you put some cybernetic monstrosity into my neck,” Dax said. “I don’t want to turn like Batman for the rest of my life.”

Mark’s face dropped.

“With the current level of technology here on Tachyon, I’m sure Mark would be able to make you something that has give,” the Junkyard replied. “Look at me, I am more flexible than any of you.”

The robot’s head and arms spun for a few seconds.

“That doesn’t count. Your body was designed to do that,” Dax countered, ascending the ramp. “Ours weren’t.”

Entering the cargo bay, he looked around for PITA. The robo-dog was nowhere to be seen. Dax’s hand instinctively drifted to his Bastet pistol. Looking around, he didn’t see any sign of a struggle, or scorch marks. Messing with his translator, he tried to connect to any of the crew left behind. There was no response. Dax’s chest tightened, his mind starting to spin.

“Why aren’t we being insulted right now?” Mark asked.

Kane pulled his weapon as well.

“Likely nothing good,” Kane whispered. “If someone tried to get on here and PITA wasn’t disabled, there’d be scorch marks all over the place.”

“He would’ve set off the munitions,” Dax replied. “Half the ship would be gone.”

He turned and started down the ramp. His mind raced, trying to figure out what could’ve happened. He wanted to call out to Dalia but didn’t want to warn anyone who might still be in the ship.

“Mark, you and your cyber lady stay down here. If anyone comes down that elevator, capture them,” Dax ordered.

“Do you really think Decombres would let anything happen to the ship?” Mark asked.

“He’s fickle at best,” Kane replied, looking at the Junkyard. “How long would it take you to re-upload yourself into the ship and scan internally?”

“Two minutes,” she replied.

“That’s two minutes we might not have. Kane, with me,” Dax ordered.

He rushed out of the ship, moving under it. He looked at the airlock. Kane followed closely behind. Once at the door, Kane holstered his gun and interlocked his fingers.

“You clear the engine room, I’ll take the bathroom and medical bay,” Kane said.

Dax stepped into his hand. Both men stood straight up. Dax placed his thumb on a small pad in the airlock door. With a hiss and click, it opened. Climbing in, he positioned himself on the door’s inner lip. Reaching down, he grabbed Kane and pulled him up as well.

“After that, hold at the crew quarters bottleneck, and I’ll join you,” Dax replied.

“Copy that.”

Once both men were inside, Dax closed the outer door. Placing his hand on the interior latch, he looked down at Kane. The soldier held a finger to his lips before motioning toward the inner door.

Dax pulled on the latch, unlocking it as carefully and quietly as he could. Pushing the door open, he emerged under the dining room seat. He listened for any noise on the other side. A deathly silence reigned over the ship.

A deep ache filled Dax’s gut. He slowly pushed on the cushion, fighting the countless horrible visions that filled his head. Light pierced the crack he’d made. Peering through, his eyes darted around the room. Relief tugged at him, seeing an empty room as they’d left it.

“Clear,” he whispered. “Pressing forward.”

Dax lifted the seat cushion off and placed it on the table. Climbing out, he pointed his gun at the open door to the main deck. Crossing the room, he scanned as much of the limited space as he could see. Kane climbed out and moved as close to the wall opposite Dax as possible.

With a series of hand gestures, Kane gave Dax instructions on their next set of movements. Dax kept his gun up and attention sharp. He moved quickly and quietly toward the door. Kane moved in unison with him.

Approaching the main deck, Dax sniffed the air. To his relief, the stench of rusted metal, sweat and oil filled his nostrils and not the pungent stench of blood. Kane pointed at Dax then held up one finger. With a nod, he pushed onto the main deck first.

Dax crossed in front of Kane and moved straight to the armor pods while scanning the room. Still nothing. Kane pushed in, scanning the other half of the room before pointing his weapon toward the crew quarters.

“Clear, move,” Kane whispered.

“One sec,” Dax replied.

He did a quick inventory of the armor pods. Each one stored the suits and weapons, all of which were untouched and accounted for.

“No guns stolen,” Dax said.

Hugging the tubes, he made his way toward the engine room corridor. With a quick scan, he cleared the crew quarters’ entryway. With a thumbs-up, Kane quickly rushed across the room.

Dax carefully peeked around the corner. His ears perked, listening for any tiny movement or sound, only to be greeted by a soft scratching. Kane tapped his shoulder. Rushing into the corridor, Dax quickly cleared it. He checked down the ladder to see Mark looking up at him.

“Do you hear that?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, anything down there?” Dax asked.

“Nope, even the false airlock is clear.”

“Copy that. Standby,” Dax replied.

Pushing forward, he made it to the engine room’s locked door. The Dal’no’s power source hummed softly on the other side of the steel. Dax grabbed the latch and pulled it. A loud squeal of rusty metal filled the ship. Dax winced at the noise. He looked back at a wide-eyed Kane.

“If they didn’t know we were here, they do now,” Kane whispered.

“How about we just put some WD-40 on our list of things to get next time we go back to Earth?” Dax asked.

He took a deep breath. Holding it, he pulled on the door. It squealed open, eliciting another grimace from the sound. Aiming his gun inside, he quickly cleared the circular room, inspecting the wiring. Not a bolt was out of place. Dax exited the engine room and shut then locked the door.

“Seriously?” Kane asked.

“If they don’t know we’re here by now, they’re idiots,” Dax whispered back. “We’re all clear in here.”

Dax quietly rushed back to Kane’s side. Switching places, he acted as cover while Kane pulled open the bathroom door. The stench that wafted from it burned Dax’s nostrils. He winced before the door shut.

“Anyone still in there would’ve shot themselves already,” Kane grumbled.

He moved to the medical bay. It was empty and in perfect condition as well. Kane lowered his weapon and shook his head. Crossing to his partially opened door, he peered in.

“I swear, if they’ve gone shopping again,” he muttered.

“We’ll never financially recover from it,” Dax replied.

“Are we hoping kidnapping, then?”

“At least, that way, it’ll be something we can control,” Dax replied.

The scratching grew louder as they pushed into the crew quarters. Clearing Mark’s room, it was a mess, but nothing out of the ordinary. Henuva’s was meticulous, everything perfectly lined up and folded without a single wrinkle.

Both men lined up on Dax’s room. His heart started to race. The incessant scratching seemed to grow louder by the second. Fighting his impatience, he looked at Kane, who’d positioned himself next to the door, and nodded. Kane ripped the door open.

“Are you freaking kidding me!” PITA screamed.

The robot dog fell forward from scratching on the door. A tight pink ballerina costume, complete with tutu, covered his metallic body.

“You both are such a disappointment not even Mr. Rogers would be proud of you,” PITA screeched.

The dog ripped through the ship. He turned down the engine room corridor. A split second later, a series of clatters followed by a heavy thud reverberated through the ship. Mark’s string of swears and laughter echoed up shortly after.

“What did I just see?” Kane muttered.

“No idea,” Dax replied.

A series of giggles pulled Dax’s attention into his room. Sandrina and Dalia stood next to the chair at Dax’s desk. They sported new leisure clothing while Henuva sat between them. His features were flat, his mouth in a deep scowl.

A bright pink, highly feminine outfit contrasted starkly against his ash black skin. His hair was braided and held up in a series of bows. Henuva glanced at Dax’s raised weapon.

“This is so much worse than what you did to me,” he grumbled. “Please, put me out of my misery and put a round through my head.”

“Oh stop, you look cute,” Dalia teased.

“I can see so much of that man’s thigh, it’s turning into hip,” Kane cut in.

He turned to walk away while holstering his pistol.

“Where are you going?” Sandrina asked.

“To find some acid to wash out my eyes,” Kane replied.

“No, come back,” Dalia called out.

“I’m not dumb enough to agree to that.”

Kane went into his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. Dax turned back to the group. Dalia’s cheerful demeanor quickly vanished.

“Are you bleeding?” she asked.

Dax touched the dried blood on his face. He felt around. There were no cuts or other evidence of the brawl.

“I was. I’m not anymore,” Dax replied.

“What happened?” Sandrina asked.

“Kane and I went to find Mark. He and the Junkyard’s body were in a bit of a bar brawl. We decided to help out.”

“Aw, I missed out?” Henuva whimpered.

“They would’ve killed you,” Sandrina chimed in.

“It’s a better fate than this humiliating pink unitard,” Henuva countered.

“You don’t really hate it,” Sandrina teased.

“Yes, I, in fact, do,” he countered. “And if it weren’t for the Jolly Green Giantess over here, you wouldn’t have been nearly as successful.”

Dalia patted him on the back.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she mused.

She moved away from him and inspected Dax’s face closely.

“What did this to you?”

“A Tardig,” Dax replied. “At least this one was a cyborg and not a cordyceps Jarog-controlled one.”

“How’d you beat it?” Henuva asked, fidgeting in his seat.

“He had a knockout gas he tried to hit us with. I inhaled it and spat it back at him. Put him down with his own stuff.”

“Impressive,” Sandrina added.

“There’s not a single thing he does that isn’t impressive,” Dalia replied.

Dax looked from Sandrina, back to his Battle Bonded.

“I take it this means things are good?” he asked.

“There’s a unique bonding experience that comes from jointly humiliating a person who’s manipulated you,” Dalia replied, looking at Sandrina. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Henuva continued to fidget uncomfortably while the lights in the ship flickered.

“This is wonderful,” the Junkyard announced. “Initiating scan for 3D rendering.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” Henuva shouted, shifting his weight to one cheek.

“It’ll be good merch,” the Junkyard replied.

“Henuva, what is wrong with you?” Dax asked.

“This suit is a few sizes too small; I think it’s literally inside of me,” he replied.

21

NEW JOB

Dax sat next to Dalia in the kitchen with a mug of gently steaming coffee on the table. Henuva stood behind the bar testing out his new arm, while Mark fidgeted with his staff in the corner. Bleeze paced back and forth looking around the room.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” he asked.

“Kane’s showing Decombres how to brew a cup of joe,” Dax said, lifting his mug.

“And Sandrina’s restocking expired medicine,” Dalia replied.

Bleeze turned toward Dax. His jaw was slack and eyes wide.

“Who is Joe and why are you drinking him?” he asked. “Is there something about you guys I need to know about?”

“Joe is another name for coffee,” Mark chuckled. “We’re not cannibals.”

Bleeze turned toward Henuva. He nodded in confirmation.

“You sure? They didn’t eat your arm or anything?” Bleeze asked.

“No,” Henuva chuckled, lifting his shinier robotic limb. “I watched my arm get incinerated. In what would be their defense, it did smell amazing.”

Bleeze’s eyes widened. Dax watched the color drain from his face. Henuva let out a laugh before crossing his arms.

“I am messing with you,” he teased. “How’d you get to where you are by falling for such an obvious lie? Removal of biohazardous materials is very clear in the Valtakuntera protocols. We launch everything into the nearest star.”

Bleeze turned toward Dax.

“Is he messing with me? I feel like he’s still messing with me.”

“I couldn’t tell you.” Dax shrugged. “I’m not up to date on their regulations. But I will say, opening an airlock is a far cheaper way to dispose of materials than what it’d cost in fuel to incinerate.”

Bleeze grumbled. He stroked his facial hair with one hand while rubbing his horseshoe hairline with another.

“Okay, how about we just get down to business?”

“Only if it’s to defeat the Huns,” Mark chimed in, throwing a punch at the air. “HUAH!”

“Easy there, Mushu,” Dax chimed in. “Ignore the kid. What’s the job?”

“You’ve got two, actually,” Bleeze held up his other two hands, a finger extended on each. “You’re going to pay my sister’s little lab a visit. I want you to break in and locate her finished AI.”

“I thought you couldn’t stand your sister,” Dalia chimed in.

“I can’t.” Bleeze chuckled. “She’s an entitled, narcissistic sociopath who has to manipulate every single person who isn’t under her chain of command. If she doesn’t control you, she manipulates you. If she can’t do that, she shames you. If that doesn’t get you under her thrall, she results to violence.”

“Then why are you having us check up on her?” Dax asked.

“She’s my sister. Despite my feelings for her…”

“Or the fact that you cut her out,” Mark jumped in.

“Yes, or the fact I cut her out, I still love her, and the guy she’s in bed with…”

“Literally,” Mark interrupted with a wry grin.

“Mark, those are things he doesn’t need to picture,” Dax jumped in.

“Thank you,” Bleeze said.

He started to pace, putting all four hands behind his back.

“She thinks she can gain control of her new boyfriend. She can’t. Unlike her other string of conquests, Tussanu won’t leave when he gets fed up with her games and her cycles of insanity,” Bleeze explained. “He’ll just kill her once he gets what he wants.”

“So, this is a rescue mission,” Dalia chimed in.

“Yes, but also, if a guy like Tussanu gets his hands on true AI, he’ll go from a minor inconvenience to a Valtakuntera-level threat,” he said before turning toward Henuva. “No offense.”

“None taken. My people are the worst.”

Dax leaned on the table. He rubbed his forehead while working through the information provided.

“To sum up: You want us to break into your sister’s lab to see if she has the AI. If she does, awesome, we leave, no problems. If she doesn’t, you’re going to want us to steal it from Tussanu and get your sister out of the situationship she’s found herself in?”

“Yes, and in the process, you can trick him into no longer stalking you,” Bleeze said.

“That changes things,” the Junkyard chimed in over the speakers. “With the new mission parameters, it would be best to play off my and the crew’s destruction on Dal’no’nuuur. Bring evidence of my ruined craft and claim you found bodies in the wreckage. By bringing me away from Tachyon, you will increase your chances of a failed mission exponentially.”

“Where are we going to find mangled pieces of debris from you?” Dalia asked.

“With how many times I’ve been blown up?” The Junkyard chuckled. “Any number of places.”

“How about the world you left me to die on?” Henuva asked. He pulled a piece of dried meat from a bag and took a bite out of it. “I blasted a decent-sized hole in her.”

“Yeah you did,” the Junkyard chimed in.

“Phrasing… aw dang, missed it by a second,” Mark grumbled.

“You both need to dial down the hormones a little bit,” Dalia said.

“I’m with the big green lady,” Bleeze added.

Dax stood up. He approached his handler, placing his hands behind his back.

“What’s the pay?” Dax asked.

Bleeze turned toward him. An eyebrow arched while the familiar cold expression of the guild master returned.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Breaking into Tussanu’s place was our only objective. Now you want it to be a rescue mission, on top of…” Dax froze.

He caught the words before they left his mouth. Glancing at an eager Mark, he shook his head.

“I’m not going to give it to you,” Dax said before turning back to Bleeze. “Your base of operations. That’s adding another layer of risk. And you taught us, never work for free.”

Bleeze’s frown lines deepened. He crossed all four arms while looking Dax up and down. With a growl, he shook his head.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll pay you back what you spent on clothing, and I’ll get you a loaner ship that won’t draw attention. If this ship doesn’t come back, I will charge you premium for it.”

Dax extended his hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Bleeze gave Dax a firm handshake before making his way to the door.

“I’ll get you the logistics and your new ship within twenty-four hours. Master Decombres does request that you stay on this ship as he’s tired of having to cover for your incessant fighting.”

“It’s not our fault your underworld likes to view us as a target,” Dax teased. “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Bleeze climbed up the steps and disappeared around the engine room corridor. The thuds of him climbing down the ladder echoed through the ship, followed by a string of insults by PITA and a muffled comeback about a tutu.

The lights flickered while Dax turned to Dalia. She stood up, grabbed both mugs and handed his back to him while crossing the room. He took a drink, his mind swimming, before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Does anybody else have a really bad feeling about this?” Dax asked.

“On a scale of one to ten? Twenty,” Henuva said.

“I don’t think it’s that bad, but it’s definitely above a ten,” Mark added before looking at Dalia. “And how much did you spend on clothes that makes this an offer worth accepting?”

Dax pulled the puck out of his inner jacket pocket. He walked over to Mark and pulled up the balance, highlighting the shopping spree. Mark’s eyes widened. He let out a pained groan before leaning back against the wall.

“That hurts my soul a little bit,” he whimpered.

“You’ve never been shopping before?” Dalia asked.

“We have; we just don’t spend that much,” Mark replied.

“Let me see,” Henuva said.

He moved from behind the bar and approached Dax. Stopping in his tracks, he took a sharp inhale mid bite. A throaty gag rose from his mouth. Henuva’s eyes were wide. He struck himself in the chest several times.

“Are you choking?” Dax asked.

Henuva’s eyes started to water. He shoved his other hand into his mouth before pulling out a slobbery, partially chewed piece of meat. He dropped it on the ground, leaned forward and coughed. Dax gave him a pat on the back.

“You okay?” Dax asked.

“At least there’s one universal constant between the sexes,” Henuva croaked.

“Two,” Mark said, standing up. “Nearly choking to death when you see the bill isn’t an exclusively Valtukta trait.”

“Okay, I get it. Will you guys drop it now?” Dalia asked. “It’s rapidly losing its humor.”

Dax put the puck away and turned back to Dalia.

“Okay, we’re done beating this dead horse.”

“Why would you beat a dead horse?” Henuva asked. “That’s counterproductive. It’d be better to dress it.”

“That’s the point,” Mark replied.

The Junkyard’s robotic body moved into the doorframe. She wore one of Mark’s shirts that happened to go down to mid-thigh.

“Seriously?” Dax asked. “We bought you clothes.”

“I like it,” Mark mused.

“So do I,” the Junkyard replied.

“Dalia, do you want to take why this is a bad idea?” Dax asked.

“Wearing a man’s shirt is the equivalent to… How did you put it?” Dalia asked, looking back at Dax.

“It’s like…” Dax started.

“Yeah, it’s like him planting his flag on the top of Mount Everest,” Dalia explained. “For the human species, there’s a certain attraction to it.”

“Not just humans,” Henuva replied.

Dax turned toward the cyborg, pointing at him.

“Don’t you start too,” he growled.

Henuva fell quiet while Mark joined the group. He leaned on his staff and shrugged, looking at the android.

“I don’t see any problem with it.”

The android gave Mark a flirtatious smile. Dax shook his head before throwing his hands up.

“We’re not having a Joker and Edi situation here,” Dax called out.

“I’ll get changed if you insist,” the Junkyard said.

“Please don’t,” Mark cut in.

“But I am going with you,” she continued, ignoring Mark’s comment. “For more than one reason. Mark is a skilled hacker, but if the other AI is complete and linked into the defensive systems, he’s not skilled enough to out-hack it. No offense.”

“I’d need a lot more upgrades to take on an AI,” Mark said.

“On top of that, my intelligence and capabilities are within this mainframe. If I go with you, it will be easier for you to protect me rather than leaving me with this ship unattended.”

“And she can remotely hack Tussanu’s security network to change our identities to lesser-known aliens in the universe, so our cover isn’t blown on approach,” Mark added.

Dax turned to the young man. He tilted his head to the side while narrowing his eyes.

“How far up did you have to go to pull that one out?” Dax asked.

Mark looked at his hand. He indicated the first knuckle of his finger before shrugging.

“He’s not wrong,” Henuva chimed in. “Facial recognition for species identification is used in even the lower income areas of the galaxy. Someone who loves to collect things? He’ll have top of the line. Likely to capture anyone who visits that meets his criteria.”

Juggling the new information, Dax turned to Dalia for input. She shrugged.

“I’m a fighter. Technology doesn’t interest me, so I’ve got no skin in this game,” she replied. “But if Henuva’s agreeing with Mark and the Junkyard, I trust the consensus.”

Dax finished his coffee. He lowered the cup and placed his free hand in his pocket before looking at the android.

“Fine, but go put some actual clothes on, will you?” he asked.

“I will,” the Junkyard replied. “But I do have a request. In this body, as I am no longer a bucket of bolts, as Kane puts it, I would like another name.”

“What are you thinking?” Dax asked.

“What about Jun?” Mark asked. “It keeps part of your name but removes the pieces you don’t like.”

Her brow furrowed. She nodded in approval.

“I like Jun,” she said.

“Then Jun it is,” Dax confirmed. “Now go get changed.”

22

NEW RIDE

Dax put the last box of clothes down on top of the small pile Dalia had made. He leaned against it, looking up at his Battle Bonded while the others gathered their needs from the ship.

“Are things with you and Sandrina really copacetic?” he asked. “Or was it a temporary bond from mutual enjoyment of PITA and Henuva’s humiliation?”

“It started that way,” Dalia said, drumming her fingers against the box. “But as we started talking, and Henuva translated her journal, I saw that she really does feel guilt for her actions.”

“Does that mean you trust her now?”

“Only if she’s in front of me. She hasn’t gotten all the way back yet,” Dalia replied.

The elevator doors opened. Kane emerged with his brew kit in hand.

“That’s a starting point,” Dax said, pushing off the box. “You can’t make up that kind of ground overnight.”

“No, my worry has now shifted to the Junkyard. I’m a little worried someone might try and mess with it while we’re gone.”

“That’s why PITA’s staying behind,” Dax said. “He’s going to burn anyone who tries anything funny. And why I put a call out to Buzzro Shrod. He’s in the area; for a nominal fee, he’ll babysit the ship.”

“He’s a bounty hunter formerly on the payroll of the Valtakuntera,” Dalia countered.

“Yes, but he also lied to them and apparently is now on their top ten hit list,” Dax explained. “And he’s a mercenary with an emphasis on bounty hunting. He’s being well compensated and knows that if he tries anything, it’s PITA for him.”

“Fair enough,” Dalia said before turning her attention to Kane. “How’d it go?”

“It didn’t. Turns out Decombres has a similar digestive tract to the Valtukta,” Kane explained. “He decided to err on the side of caution and not, as he put it, go out like a punk.”

“Well, more coffee for you,” Dalia mused.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Kane looked at the boxes, then at the rest of the crew emerging with everyone’s suits of armor and weapons on a pallet.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Kane muttered.

“We’re leaving the Junkyard behind, Bleeze is getting us a new ship, we’re going to get some debris from the original Junkyard and break into a series of high security facilities,” Dalia said in a single breath. “And if we’re lucky, we won’t die and the ship won’t get stolen.”

“PITA staying behind?” Kane asked.

Dax nodded. Kane’s eyes darted around the hangar.

“Ruthnar isn’t here… Buzzro for backup?”

“You’re good,” Dax chuckled.

“We don’t have a deep bench to pull from. I’m going to go put this up and help these jokers unload the ship.”

Kane jogged toward the vessel. He tossed the crew a wave before disappearing into the cargo hold. Dalia turned her attention to the crew, fumbling with all of their equipment.

“Should we help them?” she asked.

“Eh, they’re a bunch of degenerates. A little hard work will teach them discipline.”

“Is that a tactic you took with your daughter?” Dalia asked.

“Yep.”

“How’d it go?”

“Not well.”

“Then why repeat it?”

“Because I don’t have the same level of affection for them as I do for her,” Dax replied, looking up at Dalia.

“Do?” Dalia asked.

“A parent’s love hits a little different. It doesn’t matter how old you get, or if you’re unlucky enough to outlive them. It never goes away,” Dax explained.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Dalia said with a grimace.

“No need to apologize,” Dax cut her off. “You didn’t cross any lines. We’re bonded; my life is yours, including the past. If you ever want to know anything, just ask. The only way you could cross a line is if you used them intentionally to hurt me.”

“Which I would never do.”

“Exactly. We’re all good.”

A tremble danced through the hangar. It started to move, causing the force fields to activate. Henuva’s armor slid off the pallet and onto the ground. He let out a series of grumbles while trying to pick it back up.

Dax turned toward the hangar opening to see a sleek, onyx ship glide through the forcefield. Its engines let out a buzzing hum while it set down behind the Junkyard. It stood half as tall but twice as wide.

A ramp hissed to life and dropped out from underneath the vessel. Bleeze marched out through bouts of steam that vented from the ship.

“If that thing’s round, we’re calling it the Falcon,” Dax said, stepping toward the ship.

“Only if you want to get sued into oblivion,” Dalia added.

They jogged over to Bleeze, who toyed with the rings on his biological fingers.

“She’s a beauty,” Dax said.

A hint of disappointment settled into his stomach. It wasn’t round but sported a more aerodynamic shape.

“Thank you. I call her the Obsidian Nighthawk,” Bleeze said.

Dax let out a groan of joy.

“That’s so much cooler!”

“He’s a luxury liner. Extremely fast. Has no real firepower, but can disappear faster than a shadow at night,” Bleeze explained. “He is VERY expensive, so do not crash him!”

“Bring that up with Mark, he’s our pilot,” Dax said.

“If it’s so impressive, why not give us one that’s almost as good?” Dalia asked. “Keep your prize ship safe.”

“Because it’s the only one that’ll get you into Tussanu’s place.”

Bleeze pulled a card out of his inner jacket pocket and extended it to Dax.

“And you’ll need that to get into his party if you decide on a stealthy approach,” he explained. “That was sent to Decombres as a ‘whoever holds this’ invite, meaning no name’s attached to it.”

“Won’t that rat us out?” Dalia asked.

“No, rule one about this guy, discretion. No names are ever written down. The only reason there are coordinates is because the second the last person leaves, that entire place is getting moved.”

“What’s stopping anyone from getting their hands on one of these and having someone raid the place?”

“Like who? The Ryshy? The Senate? They’ve got their hands full with the Valtakuntera situation. If he doesn’t make problems for them, why would they make problems for him?”

“Then why stay under the radar?” Dax asked.

“That’s how you don’t make problems.”

“This is a beauty,” Mark said with a whistle. “How’s she handle?”

“HE handles like a dream,” Bleeze explained. “I’ve already got my sister’s lab location and its blueprints programmed into the system.”

“Thank you. Hopefully, we’ll be back before you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious backward,” Dax said.

“I would need to see that spelled out first,” Bleeze replied, motioning toward the ship. “Now stop talking to me and go do your job.”

“Copy that,” Dax said. “Also, Buzzro Shrod is being paid to be our meat in the seat for the Junkyard. When he shows up, he’s with us.”

“We’ll try not to shoot him,” Bleeze replied.

He turned and walked back across the hangar. Dax turned to the crew.

“You heard the man: load up.”

He and Dalia went to grab the crates of clothes. Kane emerged with several firearms from his collection slung over his shoulders. He double-checked a duffle bag that hung from his neck and wobbled with each step he took.

“The others got our weapons,” Dalia said.

“Yes, but these are my babies. I don’t trust anyone to guard them but me,” Kane replied.

Gathering the rest of the supplies, they loaded into the Obsidian Nighthawk’s cargo bay. Mark moved with a skip in his step. Once he set down the suits he’d carried in, he looked impatiently around the room at the three exits. Dax and Kane looked at one another.

“Fine,” Dax said.

“Go find the cockpit and figure out how to fly this thing,” Kane added.

“Yes, thank you!”

“I will go with him,” Jun said.

Like a blur, he vanished through one door with the android close behind. Dax started to sort the armor and weapons in neat piles based on wearer. A few minutes later, Mark and Jun burst out of the door.

“Living quarters and those beds are pluuusssshhh!”

“Very,” she added.

They vanished into another door. Dax double-checked the weapons while Dalia and Sandrina went over the medical kits and Kane showed Henuva his little stash. Once the weapons were cleared, they reappeared.

“Engine room, sleek. Which means this one’s cockpit.”

Mark and Jun vanished through the door. Dax went outside and grabbed two crates of clothes. He brought them in and placed them next to the crew quarters. On his way out, he stopped next to Kane and Henuva.

“Mark’s figuring out how not to make us a smear on this interior. The ladies are ensuring that we have what we need for when one of us gets shot, stabbed, blown up or burned…”

“Don’t you mean if?” Henuva asked.

Kane and Dax let out a burst of sarcastic laughter in unison.

“You’ve seen how we operate,” Dax countered.

“Valid point. What are you trying to get to?” the Valtukta asked.

“You two are looking at pretty little guns when we’ve still got some crates out there to move up.”

“I’m a vet,” Kane said. “I fought for your right to be snarky.”

“And I’m disabled,” Henuva added. With a quick tap of his fingers, the robotic arm fell free. “Looks like I’m a hand down. I don’t think I’ll be of much use,” Henuva said, picking up his robotic arm. “I wish I could give you a hand.”

Dax rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I hate you both so much right now,” he grumbled.

“Come up with a better excuse next time, then,” Henuva taunted.

Dax grabbed the robotic arm. He tossed it over his shoulder before walking down the ramp.

“Hey, wait, I need that!” Henuva shouted.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re the one who offered the hand,” Dax countered.

The Valtukta let out a grumble while Dax grabbed the rest of the crates after two more trips. Once everything was in, he inspected the cargo bay’s control panel. When he pressed a button, it pulled the ramp up.

“Got lucky there,” he muttered.

Playing with his translator, he felt it connect to Mark’s.

“How are things looking up there?”

“This is the Mercedes, Bentley, Cadillac and every other high-end car you could think of combined into a single spaceship,” Mark said.

His voice quivered with excitement.

“Can you fly it without killing everybody?”

“I have run a diagnostic on the flight controls,” Jun explained. “This should be intuitive for a humanoid to navigate. I anticipate professional pilot status with the new vessel inside of three hours.”

“And how many rounds of motion-sick vomit do you anticipate in that time?” Sandrina added.

“I am unaware of your individual tolerances to rapidly shifting perspectives. It would be irresponsible of me to make an assessment without those data points.”

A slight shift pulled the ship upward. Dax placed his hand on a wall before looking around.

“What’s going on up there?” he asked.

“We’re taking off,” Mark replied. “Impressive how quiet she is. I’d love to hear her purr like a kitten.”

“I’m going to put an end to where this is headed before we all throw up for a different reason,” Dalia cut in.

“Thank you,” Henuva said.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we are out of Tachyon,” Mark announced. “Our next stop, finding those data points for Jun to accurately do her calculations.”

“Mark, don’t you dare!” Dax warned. It was too late.

23

OLD SITE

Dax sat in a leather bound chair. It formed perfectly around him, cradling him like a mother holds her baby. He leaned forward, and the seat shifted with his movements to better support him. His hand touched the console in front of him, initiating a scan while they cut through a cloud.

“Where’s Jun?” Dax asked.

“She’s powered down in our room. Without a charging port, she wants to make sure she has enough juice to last the mission,” Mark replied.

“Then I don’t feel so bad saying that I could get used to this,” Dax mused.

“So could I,” Kane added from a seat directly across from Dax. “Separate stations with the most comfortable chairs in the universe? Count me in.”

“I bet it’s nice only having to worry about flying,” Dalia added from the third row of seats.

“I don’t know, it feels a bit boring only doing one thing at a time,” Mark replied.

“Yes, but you get to bring the joy of letting other people shoot if we run into a bind,” Kane added.

“Bleeze said there weren’t weapons on this,” Dax chimed in.

“Nothing that’d take down a Valtakuntera ship,” Kane replied, pulling up a schematic of the defenses. “But does that look somewhat familiar?”

Dax leaned forward and looked at the print. His brow furrowed, recognizing the oddly human weapon.

“Is that a Warthog?” Dax asked.

“What? No,” Kane chuckled. “The A10 Warthog is the actual plane. This beauty looks to be in the vein of a GAU-8/A Avenger. Unlike that beauty, this is a forty-millimeter hydraulic driven, ten-barreled Gatling-style autocannon.”

“Are you saying it could take down a fighter?” Dalia asked.

“We’d need to be right behind it, but yes, I imagine it’d punch right through the hull of a smaller ship,” Kane explained. “And on top of that, any ground forces will be turned to pink mist by a strafing run of this.”

“And what if the race doesn’t have iron-based blood?” Sandrina asked, entering the cockpit.

“With this much power, it’ll turn the mist pink,” Kane said with a chuckle.

Dax’s screen beeped. He turned his attention to it and swiped through the displays. Checking over the readouts, he extended an arm and held up a thumb.

“Scans indicate small wildlife in the area, no indication of any form of technology. We are good to land.”

“How are we going to know where to set down?” Sandrina asked. “That debris field must be enormous.”

“It covers half the planet,” Mark replied. “But there’s one thing that’s easily identifiable—where I shot that queen bug in the sand. That much heat turned the sand to glass.”

They closed in on the partially reclaimed desert. Dalia stood out of her chair. She stepped forward, placing a hand on Dax’s shoulder.

“This world is taking a long time to heal,” she said softly.

“No, it’s not,” Mark scoffed.

“But Dal’no’nuuur regrew its entire forest in the same time that we’ve been away from here,” she countered.

Dax placed a hand on Dalia’s. He looked up to her before nodding at the front of the ship.

“But this world didn’t have some of the most advanced technology in the galaxy set to repair what was lost. It usually takes centuries for a planet to heal from just this,” he explained. “If it wasn’t for the foresight of your ancestors, Dal’no’nuuur would still be a ball of sand.”

“That’s sad,” Dalia muttered.

She turned toward Sandrina.

“Does that mean your world won’t be regrown in your lifetime?”

“It may take a few more decades than your home, but it will,” Sandrina said, nodding. “All the dead bugs and fungus will make the soil verdant, then our genetically modified trees should take root and spread. It’ll likely take a generation or two before it’s completely back, but at least it’ll be green in my lifetime.”

Kane spun in his seat while Mark continued their descent.

“How about once we’re done with this job, we swing by Bastet to see how the valley is coming along.”

Sandrina froze for a few seconds. She blinked in confusion while looking around the crew.

“After everything, you’d do that for me?” she asked.

“Of course,” Dalia replied. “You’re a part of the crew whether you want to be or not.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“And speaking of crew, where’s Henuva? He’s not accidentally going to blow his hand off with one of Kane’s black powder muskets, is he?” Mark asked.

“Those aren’t muskets,” Kane argued. “They’re high-precision instruments of destruction. Muskets are chaos on a stick.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re old enough, I’m confident your first military-issued firearm was a muzzle-loader.”

Mark let out a taunting cackle while he brought the ship to hover. Kane shot Dax a look. His expression was deadpan. The professor fought back a smile and shrugged.

“I’m not that old,” Kane grumbled.

“I know that, Dalia knows that, and heck, I’m pretty sure Sandrina knows that,” Dax whispered. “But to that youth over there, anyone over thirty is ancient, and anyone over thirty-five is dead.”

“What would that make me, then, a mummy?” Kane asked.

“If you want it to be,” Mark replied.

He slowly stood up while leaning on the controls.

“No,” he grumbled. “Where’d it go?”

“Where’d what go?” Dax asked.

“The glassed sand. I’m not seeing it.”

“I’ll do a scan. Maybe it sank,” Dax replied.

Turning back to his station, Dax initiated a scan for anything that wasn’t sand directly in front of them. After a few minutes’ images of small animals and insects, a few glass-like shards were all that sat in the ground.

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Dax said, looking up. “Good news is, you’re right, this is where you killed the bug. The bad news is the superheated sand is gone, so someone definitely took it.”

“Who would steal such a beautiful artifact?” Mark asked in a huff.

He turned the ship toward the regrowing forest. Massive chunks of steel littered the surface. Some were partially buried by the sand. Others were reclaimed by vines. A handful stuck straight out of the dirt, stretching into the air at the height of some skyscrapers.

Dax stood up. He let out a whistle while approaching Mark’s seat. The pilot flew them to the forest before setting the ship down. Outside stood a knot of vines in a strangely familiar shape.

“Looks like we’re in the right spot,” Dax said. “Kane, stay with the ship. Dalia, you’re with me.”

“What about me?” Sandrina asked.

“And me,” Mark added.

“Both of you stay on board as well. We’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”

Dalia turned and made her way to the door, Dax following closely behind.

“What about Henuva?” Kane asked.

“He was the last person down here; he’d know where the wreckage ended up,” Dax replied without missing a step.

Dalia hunched while they walked through the hallway; her hair gently touched the ceiling while her pushed forward shoulders rubbed against the smooth walls, black as obsidian.

“This ship may have luxuries, but it wouldn’t be comfortable to have to live in such a cramped environment all the time,” she grumbled.

“I agree, but what did you expect? The owner of this ship is literally half your height,” Dax replied. “If it was made to accommodate you, he’d need a stepstool at every junction.”

They emerged into the cargo bay where Henuva was inspecting several weapons. He grabbed the Bastet pistol by its barrel and offered its handle to Dax.

“While I do appreciate you not pointing the barrel at me, this gun is loaded and has no external safety,” Dax said.

He leaned forward and pressed his finger just under Henuva’s armpit.

“With its ability to penetrate, you’re pointing a hot weapon directly at your lungs and your heart. If there’s an accidental discharge in the handoff, it’ll kill you.”

“And while we may have wanted that at one point, you’ve proven yourself to be a valued member of this team,” Dalia added. “And we’d rather not have to deep clean the deck before we return the ship.”

Henuva quickly spun the gun sideways. Dax took it, lowering it to his side.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Henuva said, standing up. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, since you’re the only person who was on the ground when the sky started falling, you’re the best chance at finding where any of the debris might have been launched to.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Not a lot of large pieces hit near where you tied me up,” he replied, a hint of frustration in his tone.

“That’s almost as good as how lucky we were no one was in the center of the ship when you tried to blow us up,” Dalia countered.

“You got me there,” he relented.

Dax made his way to the controls. He pressed the same button he’d used to raise the ramp. A loud beep rang from the device.

“Not quite,” he muttered.

He pressed one button down and the hum of hydraulics sounded while the ramp lowered. Raising the pistol, he heard the familiar click of Dalia’s Fat Mac behind him. With a wave of his hand, he made his way out of the ship.

Dax reached the bottom of the ramp just as it touched the ground. The air was cool, with a refreshing breeze. The sun overhead warmed his skin while chirping and rustling in the jungle died down from their presence.

The stench of rust from towering sheets of steel hung heavy in the air. He ignored the stain on an otherwise lovely planet. Dalia’s hand tapped his shoulder. Dax made a beeline for the sculpture of vines.

Holstering his pistol, he drew his knife from his sleeve and started to cut away. Its edge sliced through the overgrowth like a hot knife through butter. Pulling the blanket of green back, he revealed the craft they’d used to fight the queen and her guardian. Rust consumed most of the once-gray metal. Frayed wires hung out of the side while tendrils of green pushed between the formerly welded steel plates.

“What are the chances it’ll start back up?” Dax shouted.

Henuva and Dalia were a few yards away, kicking away growth while looking at piles of mangled steel.

“Depends on the fuel cell,” Henuva replied. “But unless it’s a major ship, those cells won’t hold more than a year without use. It’s either that or they become extremely unstable.”

“What do you think would happen if we tried to start it up?” Dalia asked.

“Either nothing, or a crater where we’re currently standing, making this entire trip a waste of time,” Henuva replied. “And let’s face it, PITA won’t be able to pull off taking down the Valtakuntera by himself, no matter how feral he can be.”

“I don’t know, I think he’d put a dent in the forces before they put him down,” Dalia replied.

Dax sheathed his knife before making his way back to Henuva and Dalia.

“Yeah, right,” Henuva scoffed. “Even with all the damage you guys have done, it’s a drop in the bucket compared to what my people have in reserves. You’re single-handedly responsible for what? Twelve carriers’ destruction? The only thing that really got attention is the fact you escaped in my ship.”

“Then why is there a death squad after us?” Dax asked.

Henuva walked over to a mound of overgrowth. He started kicking at it. After a few seconds, he turned and motioned for Dax’s knife. Drawing it, the professor handed it over. Henuva knelt and started to cut.

“Because Tylira was assigned to my ship when you escaped. That failure falls on her head as much as it did mine. She’s just significantly nastier about it.”

Henuva pulled several bushes away before taking a step back. Flipping the knife, he offered its handle back to Dax, who re-sheathed it.

“Think that’s what you’re looking for?” he asked.

Dax looked at the piece of mangled metal. Dalia stepped forward to inspect it further. Kane’s distinctive handwriting cut through the rust with the word Junkyard.

“I think it is,” Dalia replied.

24

PHASE 1

Space warped to a blue swirl when Mark entered leap space. Locking in the autopilot, he spun in his chair and rested his hands on his head.

“Time to go steal some goodies from Bleeze’s sister,” he huffed. “My question is, why don’t we just contact her? It’s not like we left on bad terms.”

“No, but she wasn’t the warmest person ever,” Dax replied. “Besides, if she’s in bed, literally and figuratively, with Tussanu, it’s too great of a risk that she’ll just hand us over.”

“Okay, but I’ve gone over the schematics of her new place. Bleeze failed to mention that it’s practically a fortress.”

“Then send the schematics to the cargo bay. We’ll brainstorm an approach together.”

“If you say so.”

Mark turned around and started to transfer the files from the cockpit to the cargo bay. Dax made his way back through the floor-lit hallway to the rest of the crew. Henuva sat with his and Sandrina’s armor, tweaking it with his robotic hand. Kane and Dalia sat next to the piece of destroyed ship, inspecting it closely while they whispered together.

“Everything good over there?” Dax asked.

“Yeah,” Kane said.

Dalia turned with her hand on the rusty metal.

“I was pointing out that metal that can withstand space and re-entry shouldn’t break down this rapidly. The dirt on that planet has to have a higher natural acidity than most other worlds. It’s the only explanation for the rapid oxidation of the metals.”

Dax looked at the steel. He crossed his arms and nodded in approval.

“I may want to hear more about that.” Dax pointed at the name. “Kane, if we present that, Tussanu will have a sample of your handwriting. That means you’re illiterate from the moment we land, on. No writing at all.”

“Actually, I was thinking…on our approach, you drop me off a few miles out in full kit. While you infiltrate from the inside, I’ll sabotage from the outside to provide you with excess cover in case things go sideways,” Kane suggested.

“I’ll go with him,” Henuva said, raising a hand.

Everyone turned their attention to the Valtukta. He shrugged before clearing his throat.

“Look, I was Znanstvenk, the top of the pyramid of Valtukta scientific society. If he’s looking to get some good graces from the empress, capturing me and handing me over would win him more favors than getting all three of you pesky humans.”

Dax turned to Sandrina.

“Are we pesky?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied.

He turned to Dalia and Kane.

“Do you think we’re pesky?”

“Yes,” Dalia said without skipping a beat.

“I appreciate the support, sweetheart.” Dax chuckled.

“I wouldn’t say pesky,” Kane added. “A nuisance—oh, yeah.”

“I’d like to weigh in and say that we’re more like a PITA,” Mark said, exiting the hallway. “Just a big ol’ massive pain in the… well, you know. Anyway, this is what we are looking at for the lab.”

Mark walked over to a control panel that was folded into the wall. He deployed it, activated it, and pulled up the blueprints Bleeze had provided. In the center of the facility was a glowing red room.

“This is our target. Unfortunately, it’s a veritable Fort Knox. It’s got hydro-electric running it from a river a quarter of a mile away. It’s got backup nuclear power, on top of solar panels.”

“Does it really draw that much power?” Sandrina asked.

“No, all of those are backups to make sure it never goes dark. Ninety percent of the draw is for automated security, which is on an internal feedback loop. If any alarms get tripped, it immediately notifies this warehouse.”

With a tap on the hologram, it zoomed in to the lower levels of the facility. Dax leaned forward, closely inspecting the vaguely humanoid figures that filled the room.

“What are those?” Dax asked.

“Jun has it on good authority that they’re militarized versions of her.”

“So, a bunch of over-sexualized robots that’ll come to life and attack?” Sandrina asked.

“That kind of sounds like your dream scenario,” Dalia teased.

“No,” Mark countered. “There are a dozen different configurations for the android body type. Chances are, this is the assault configuration, meaning lots of guns and highly organized tactics.”

“Okay, we accidentally trip an alarm—how many of those do we have to fight off?” Kane asked.

“There are more of them than we have ammo,” Mark replied. “If we get in a gunfight here, even if we escape, the ball is already rolling. Bleeze’s sister will know, she’ll inform Tussanu, and we’re all bent over a barrel and shown the fifty states.”

“And Tussanu is at the very top of those entities that I’ve warned you about who would do that,” Henuva added.

“You’re saying that when we kick this off, that’s the point of no return. It’s there, then straight to Tussanu’s?” Dax asked.

“It’ll have to be.” Mark shrugged.

“Are there any weaknesses in the facility?” Dalia asked.

“Not that I could find. Given, they may have been deleted from the blueprints for that exact reason,” Mark chimed in.

“What about ventilation?” Sandrina asked. “What do those systems look like?”

Mark swiped, highlighting the building’s ventilation systems. The Bastet stood up, closely inspecting the ducts.

“Is there any power going to any part of these?” she asked.

Mark swiped a few more times. A surprised frown pulled across his face before he started to nod.

“It looks like the only place is right here,” he said.

Mark pointed at the vents that led into the AI room.

“But these are tiny. PITA could fit in them, but we left him back on Tachyon. I mean, it’s not too late to go get him.” Sandrina shook her head. She continued to inspect the hologram. Dax watched her closely while she worked.

“Do you know why my fur is blue and my hair is green?” she asked.

“The same reason Lord Pawdemort is orange?” Mark asked.

“No, the tribe my family came from was a jungle tribe. It’s so that we can sneak through the brush and blend in with the shadows and trees while hunting,” she explained.

She zoomed in to a heavily reinforced room.

“What is this?”

“Control center,” Mark replied.

“Dalia, be a dear and get me something to write with.”

“On it,” the Dal’no said.

“What are you thinking?” Dax asked, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m going to crawl through the air ducts and drop into the control room. From there, it’ll be a matter of disabling one or two people. Shouldn’t be very hard. Then I will have control of the facility and you can walk right in. I’ll loop the security cameras before you pass through a section, so if anyone is monitoring remotely, everything looks good.”

“Good plan, but a few holes,” Henuva said, standing up. “One, do you have the experience needed to actually pull that kind of technological sabotage off? Two…”

“It’s actually B,” Mark interrupted. “We go one, B, tertiary.”

“Why?” Henuva asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re one-hundred-percent right, it doesn’t, but it’s funnier.”

Henuva rolled his eyes, electing to ignore Mark’s comment.

“Two, if you run into anyone, how can you be sure you can physically handle them? And three, that vent is barely big enough to fit your head; your shoulders aren’t going to make it in there.”

Sandrina arched a brow and held up a finger while shifting her weight to one leg.

“A, I was a mobile medic for the guild. I’ve had to figure out just about every piece of technology out there for decades, including sabotage. Point the second,” she said with a jab to her tone, extending a second finger, emphasizing her razor-sharp nails. “I’ve put as many people in the hospital with these things as I’ve healed, and again, I worked for the guild. You don’t survive long unless you know how to fight.”

“And we’ve seen her rip more than one of your men to pieces on several occasions,” Dax added. “No offense.”

“We were trying to kill you, it’s understandable,” Henuva replied.

“And for the Zeta point.” Sandrina flashed a smile and wink at Mark. “I may have collar bones, but they don’t attach like other species’.”

Without skipping a beat Sandrina folded her shoulders into one another, touching them together.

“Any place my head can fit, I can fit,” she added, taking a normal stance once more. “I am very flexible.”

Kane mumbled as Dalia re-entered the room.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Dax asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered, his cheeks turning bright red.

“He said that he can attest to that statement,” Dalia replied, offering Sandrina the pen.

“Yeah, he can,” Sandrina teased.

Kane’s face grew even redder. It spread across his ears and down his neck.

“I bet you’re wishing that mustache was a little bigger right about now to hide behind, don’t you?” Dax teased.

He grumbled, turned and marched down the crew-quarters hallway.

“How have all of you not murdered one another a thousand times over by now?” Henuva asked.

“It’s a love language for their people,” Sandrina explained. “And I’ve found it to be quite fun. It’s when they stop relentlessly mocking you that you need to worry.”

“Is that why PITA has to constantly say such hurtful things?”

“Uh… well, no, he does it because Mark programmed him to be the single most irritating thing in all of existence,” Dax explained.

“Not THE most; second or third, maybe,” Mark countered.

“I’ll join Sandrina on the approach in case she runs into trouble,” Dalia said, motioning to herself. “I blend in with the forest as well.”

“That’s not a bad idea; then you can join Kane, Henuva, Jun and me in the tree line in front of the main entrance,” Dax suggested.

“What about me?” Mark asked. “I’m the one who’s got the tech skills to get us through the firewalls.”

“You’re the only one who knows how to fly this ship,” Dax explained. “And since Jun can hack way faster than you, she comes with us. You make sure to not get blown up so we can get off the rock once we’re done.”

“Fine,” Mark grumbled.

“What about approach? What kind of radar and ship detection systems do they have?”

“According to the data, they can’t have very advanced scanners. It’d draw attention. They can see things about five miles out, so I was thinking you drop at ten to account for a window of error.”

“That’s a smart move,” Dax said. “And unfortunately, this is going to be a no-armor run.”

“That seems a bit risky,” Dalia muttered.

“If Sandrina gets us disguises, I don’t want to leave our suits unattended.”

“Yeah, but what about the crew who can’t go into the facility?” Dalia asked. “I mean, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb, and everyone knows and hates Valtukta. If Henuva steps foot in there and is seen, cover’s going to be blown.”

Dax looked at Sandrina. She started to write on the palm of her hand while looking at the schematics.

“She does have a point,” the Bastet said. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have one or two people in full kit in case something unexpected happens.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Henuva added.

Dax looked from Dalia to the schematics, then the armor.

“That’s a valid plan. You two, prepare your suits, but no sound cannons. If you have to shoot, those’ll draw too much attention. Keep to plasma-based.”

“Copy that,” Dalia said, moving toward her pile of metal.

“I’ll go brief Kane and Jun, and everyone, prepare for some fan strikes.”

“It always gets hit; why wouldn’t we prepare?” Mark asked.

25

SET DOWN

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages. If you’d be so kind as to find something solid and hang on tight, we are beginning our descent.”

Mark’s voice echoed through the ship. Dax placed one hand on the control panel and grabbed on to Dalia’s arm. She turned to him, giving him a confused look.

“What? Mark said hang on to something solid,” Dax mused.

Dalia rolled her eyes and chuckled, her helmet deploying itself around her head. With the press of a button, a gust of wind violently burst through the ship. Dax squinted, lowering his head while leaves were thrown into the cargo bay.

Mark brought them to a stop just above a canopy of trees, nearly twenty feet off the ground.

“This is as close as I can get you. I’ll take cover in the clouds and wait for your radio.”

“Copy that,” Dax said.

“Move aside,” Jun announced.

She pushed her way to the front of the line wearing a skintight black tactical suit.

“The chances of being impaled on the way down are low, but not zero. Allow me to make a hole.”

Without skipping a beat, the android leapt from the ship. Dax stepped forward to see Jun extend her arms and legs. Punching through the canopy, she broke as many branches as possible on the way down. A split second later, she slammed into the ground, face first. Dax grimaced and stepped back.

“What just happened?” Kane asked, moving next to Dalia.

“Jun just did a belly flop from the better part of twenty feet off the ground.”

“Is she okay?” Sandrina asked.

Dax peeked back over. Jun pushed herself off the ground, pulled some leaves out of the servos in her hands and kicked the debris out of the way. She looked up and gave Dax a thumbs-up.

“Appears to be. We’re clear, jumping now.”

Before he finished his sentence, Dax leaped from the ship. He folded his arms across his chest, punching straight through the hole Jun made. Hitting the soft dirt, he rolled forward out of the way.

Hopping to his feet, Kane landed a split second later and did the same. Sandrina cleared the hole, landing on her feet with the grace of a ballerina. She glanced up, grimaced and dove out of the way.

Branches snapped as Dalia fell through the normal-sized hole. She hit the ground with enough force to shake the dirt under Dax’s feet. She stood tall, pulled her rifle out from the wolf bear pelt dangling from her shoulders and marched toward Dax.

A muffled scream sounded over the rumbling of the engines. It grew louder while Henuva tumbled past the canopy and landed on his back. Dax smirked, walking over to him while Mark flew away. He looked into the helmet’s eyes.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Henuva wheezed. “My foot got caught on the way out.”

“Good thing you’re wearing your armor, then,” Dax said, offering a hand.

“Suddenly, I’m not so frustrated to play door watch.”

Henuva took the offer. With a pull, Dax got him on his feet.

“Next time, watch the lip,” Dax teased.

Henuva nodded while starting to wipe the dirt off him. Dax turned toward Jun. A leaf hung from a small gap that articulated her cheeks. He pointed at his own.

“You’ve still got a little something right here.”

Jun felt around her face, removed the debris and threw it to the ground.

“Oh, thank you, I appreciate the heads up.”

“You’re welcome. Now, where are we going?”

She turned to the left and pointed.

“Straight, ten point two miles.”

“I thought he was going to get us ten miles out,” Henuva complained.

“You’re in an enhanced combat suit that takes the stress off by running for you,” Kane said, twisting a suppressor onto a pistol. “Point-two miles isn’t going to wear you out.”

“I’ve got metal toes on one foot. It makes long-distance running a little difficult,” Henuva complained.

Dalia lifted her boot and wiggled it.

“Hey, I do too,” she teased.

“I will set pace; my scanners will pick up any countermeasures that may block our path,” Jun said.

She turned and took off in an all-out sprint toward the lab. Sandrina took off after her so fast, she was a blur. Dalia was third in line, lumbering like an unstoppable train while Dax looked at Kane’s pistol.

“I think that’s the smallest gun I’ve ever seen you use,” he teased.

“This is a stealth mission. If I have to pull this trigger, anyone beyond ten feet away won’t hear a thing.”

“These people aren’t bad guys,” Dax countered. “There’s no reason to kill any of them.”

“Unless they threaten the success of the mission.”

Kane put his gun in his holster and took off after the women. Dax turned to Henuva.

“You’d better get going. You don’t want to be left behind.”

“Me? Even with the toe thing, this suit can catch up to them easily.”

“Yeah, and I don’t usually get a chance to fully open up to see what I can do. I want to see how fast I’ve become since my incident.”

Dax held up his arm and pointed to where he’d been bitten.

“Fine,” Henuva relented.

He reluctantly started to jog before speeding up and catching up with the rest of the group. Dax tapped his toe while looking around the forest. An odd fur-covered creature with a bulbous round body trotted between the trees. It leaned down, ate some undergrowth and looked at Dax.

“You’re a cutie,” he mused.

It opened its mouth and let out a high-pitched, rolling bray before rolling onto its back with its legs straight up and its tail twitching.

“Not what I’d call a smart one, though.”

Tightening his leg muscles like a million little springs, he turned to his team, now several hundred yards away. Pushing off with all his might, the ground gave way under foot, leaving two small divots behind.

Dax paced his breathing. The trees around him were little more than a series of blurs. With each step, he could feel every muscle group contract while launching him faster toward his friends.

A wave of endorphins flooded his body. With a foot on the ground for a fraction of a second, he almost felt like he was flying. His necklace bounced against his chest and shoulder-length hair blew in the wind. Henuva was at the back of the pack. He closed in on the Valtukta, lining up with his left shoulder.

“On your left,” he said, giving him a tap.

“Come on,” Henuva grumbled.

Dax continued to push himself. With each step, he put Henuva one and a half behind him while catching Kane at a similar rate. In a few more seconds, he started to overtake the soldier.

“Slowing down in your old age?” Dax teased.

“Nope, just don’t want to hurt the delicate sensibilities of your soft generations,” Kane taunted back.

With a sarcastic laugh, he pulled away. In her suit, Dalia was faster than normal. Still giving it everything he had, he eventually caught her. Blowing her a kiss, he started inching past her. She let out a grunt and leaned forward to speed up. He continued to pull away.

Jun and Sandrina were completely different racers. He spent the next eight minutes trying to catch up to them, but made only a marginal difference in catching their lead. He only closed the distance after they slowed to a stop. He followed their lead. His legs tingled and his heart raced, but his breathing was barely elevated.

“You ladies are fast,” he said.

“I was running at forty percent my max speed,” Jun replied.

“That was only forty percent?” Sandrina wheezed. “I would’ve slowed down if I’d known that.”

Dalia came to a stop, followed by Kane and, almost a minute later, Henuva. He leaned over, placing his hand on his knees while his helmet retracted itself. Sweat poured from his forehead while he breathed heavily. His body heaved with each inhale.

“You good?” Kane asked.

“Next time, I stay on the ship,” Henuva huffed.

“Good news, then, you get to catch your breath,” Jun explained. “Ten paces forward and the facility will be visible.”

“Okay, and my entrance?” Sandrina asked.

Jun looked around the forest for a few seconds. She raised her hand, pointing ahead of them, to the right.

“Go that direction, stay in the woods. Once you hit an incline, that will be your indication to move toward the facility.”

“Then I’ll see you guys in a bit,” Sandrina said, catching her breath.

“Dalia and I will go with you as escorts,” Dax said.

He moved to the Bastet’s side while Dalia joined. Dax turned and motioned toward the still wheezing Valtukta.

“And make sure he doesn’t die while you’re waiting for us to get back.”

“Death by a brisk ten-mile jog.” Kane chuckled.

“Ten point two,” Henuva corrected between huffs. “And that wasn’t a jog, that was insanity.”

Breaking away from the party, Dax, Dalia and Sandrina moved quickly and quietly through the trees. Their three members quickly vanished behind them. Without a word, they pressed on until the ground started to rise.

Sandrina stopped. She turned to her left and crept forward. Dax and Dalia stayed close behind. Dax kept an ear out for any form of movement that might be trying to flank them. After a few minutes, they reached the edge of the woods. A large round building made of stone stood in the center of a clearing with a hill rising behind it. Dalia placed a hand on Sandrina’s shoulder.

“My suit is picking up a lot of mines in the ground,” she whispered.

“I know,” Sandrina replied. “I can smell them. Is there a safe path I can start on?”

She unzipped her jumpsuit, revealing tight black underwear. Wiggling out of it, she tossed it to Dax. Dax turned his attention toward the building while tucking the clothes under his arm. He saw the small vent Sandrina would need to climb into.

“If you start here, you should be fine,” Dalia said.

“Wait,” Dax cut in.

He drew his knife and offered it to the Bastet.

“I know you’ve got claws, but if you need to jimmy anything, they may not be strong enough to handle iy.”

With a nod, she took the knife and jumped into the field. Dax watched her move. A lump formed in his throat while she nearly slithered through the field. Each step made his heart want to skip a beat. She sniffed around before moving forward.

“How close is she to a mine?” Dax asked in a whisper.

“Never more than a few inches away,” she replied.

A pit formed in Dax’s stomach. His mind played visions of a mine detonating and blowing Sandrina to pieces over and over again. The sound of blood rushing through his ears nearly deafened him. A cold sweat coated his palms while he smacked his dry lips.

After what felt like hours, she made it to the building. Only then did he realize he’d been holding his breath. Letting out an exhale of relief, he dropped to his knees. Dalia let out a whimper of relief before leaning on a tree.

“She’s clear of the mines.”

“Good,” Dax replied.

He continued to watch closely. Sandrina used his knife to remove the vent cover. Putting the knife in her mouth, she pulled herself up, clenching the cover with her toes. Getting her head in first, the rest of her body twisted and contorted at unnatural angles.

The pit in Dax’s stomach turned, watching her contort herself to a level that would kill any other being. Once in, she pulled the cover back in place. Dax’s body heaved with a dry retch.

“That was so gross,” he muttered.

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Dalia replied.

26

SNEAK

Dax rubbed behind his ear while he and Dalia walked through the forest. His translator connected with most of the team. A rumble of static massaged his skull when trying to connect with Sandrina.

“If it wasn’t bad news, the lack of connection might be a little relaxing,” Dax muttered. “Your suit’s radio is boosted compared to the translators. Any chance you can make connection?”

“No,” Dalai replied. “I’ve been trying since she went through. Those walls are way too thick for the translators to pick up anything.”

“Then we’ll be cut off from you and Henuva after we go in.”

“Not quite,” Jun chimed in.

She emerged from behind a tree.

“Why aren’t you with Kane and Henuva?” Dalia asked.

“My scanners picked up a series of booby-traps under the ground. I came to warn you.”

“We know about the mines,” Dax said.

“There are more than just mines. I can see voids all over the field. They appear to be, at the very least, pit traps.”

“They’re probably spiked,” Dalia corrected.

“Does your suit show more than my scanners?” Jun asked.

“No, but experience states that if you want to slow someone down, you make a pit. If you’re trying to protect a location, you put spikes at the bottom so they can’t get out,” Dalia replied.

“You’re a member of a spacefaring crew. What experience do you pull from?” Jun asked.

“Before we met, she was a warrior for her tribe fighting against bugs,” Dax explained. “Making a position defensible when not inside the safety of their capital would’ve been a daily occurrence for her.”

“I was aware of your history. I didn’t think of it from that angle. How would you suggest we proceed?” Jun asked.

She joined them in making their way back to Kane and Henuva. Dax looked across the field that was visible between every other tree. Dalia stopped for a few seconds, looking at the building in the center.

“You’re going to have to take point,” the Dal’no said. “My suit isn’t picking up on any voids in the ground.”

“That’s because they’re meant to find chemical traces. Maybe we can upgrade them with the same sensors in Jun.”

“Good luck. Those that are manufactured for my systems are heavily guarded from production to installation. While not impossible, obtaining them would be counterproductive to our current goals.”

Dax turned to Dalia, who retracted her helmet. She looked from him, to Kane, then Jun.

“Would those sensors be in different spots on others with your body model?”

“Nope,” Jun said, pointing in the center of her chest. “They’re just above where your heart is. I’d show you, but Mark may not appreciate that.”

Dalia pointed just above Jun’s indication.

“If their defenses activate, aim here and maybe we can grab a few of those high-tech scanners for ourselves,” she suggested.

Dax cracked a smile, nodding in approval.

“Good idea.”

“Any upgrades we can get are a good thing,” Kane added.

“Um, am I the only one who caught the ‘Mark may not appreciate that’ comment?” Henuva asked.

“No, we’ve all just elected to ignore it,” Dax cut in.

“There are things about this crew it’s best to just let lie,” Dalia added.

“Especially with Mark. He didn’t exactly have an opportunity to develop correctly,” Kane added. “He kept hitting on Dalia for years after Dax was her Battle Bonded.”

Dax watched Kane’s expression turn to concern. He looked from Dalia, back to Jun.

“So, he’s got a thing about flirting with broken hips, I take it?”

“I’ve heard him say ‘death by snu snu’ more than once,” Dax said.

He turned to look at the building. A small light blinked next to the door. He drew his pistol and turned toward the structure.

“If he’s…” Jun started.

“How about we focus on the mission at hand before we scar everyone with details we’d rather not know about Mark’s proclivities,” Kane cut in.

“Please,” Dalia added.

“Fine, I’ll leave my morbid curiosity at the door,” Henuva huffed.

“Jun, scan the door. Let me know if you’re picking up anything,” Dax ordered.

The android faced the building. Dalia’s helmet asserted itself while she joined Jun. Dax kept his pistol at low ready. His eyes scanned for any movement. Once the door completely dropped into the ground, Sandrina appeared with a pile of clothes. She gave them a quick wave.

“It appears she pulled it off,” Jun announced.

“That was significantly faster than I was expecting,” Dalia added.

“Why is she there?” Kane asked. “She said she’d be in the control room.”

The doubt in his voice spread the worry through Dax like a cancer. His hand moved to his translator. After a few attempts, he managed to make contact with the Bastet.

“Sandrina, why are you on the surface?” he asked.

“We’re clear. It’s safe to come over,” she replied.

“How do we know you haven’t been compromised?”

“She wouldn’t do that to you twice,” Henuva said.

“Because I wouldn’t do that to you twice,” Sandrina replied.

“That’s what Henuva said,” Dax said. “There are pits between us and you. It’ll take us a little while to…”

Jun put a hand up, cutting Dax off.

“The voids are filling in with solid metal,” she pointed out.

“And I’m getting notifications the mines are being deactivated,” Dalia added.

“You got rid of the defenses?” Dax asked.

“No, she did,” Sandrina replied.

Another Bastet appeared next to Sandrina and offered them a wave. Dax squinted, able to make out the species, but unable to see who it was. Dalia’s head tilted to one side.

“I recognize her,” the Dal’no said. “She was one of the physicians helping Sandrina the day I almost died.”

Dax turned to Kane. The soldier slid his pistol into the back of his pants before pulling his shirt down behind it.

“Think it’s a trap?” Dax asked.

“Always, but we’ve got to make sure that AI is here,” he replied. “Henuva, Dalia, you two stay out here. If it goes sideways, we’re going to need backup.”

“Copy that,” Dalia replied.

“How are we going to tell if it goes sideways if we can’t keep radio contact?” Henuva asked.

“I’m already in the outer layers of their system. I will activate the Red Alert,” Jun explained.

Dax turned to Dalia. She gave him a playful elbow.

“I’ll stay safe in there, you watch your back out here,” he ordered.

“I’m sure you will, and that’s why I’ve got Henuva,” she replied.

“I will watch her back,” Henuva called out. “I’m far too terrified of what you’ll do if I fail.”

“Sounds good.” Dax chuckled. “Jun, lead the way.”

The android strode purposefully into the field. Kane followed closely behind while Dax touched his forehead against Dalia’s helmet. He caught up in just a few strides, keeping his weapon at low ready.

“How sure are you we won’t get impaled or blown up?” Dax asked.

“I’m taking us on a route that bypasses all mines. Even if they reactivate, we’ll be safe,” Jun explained.

“That doesn’t cover the impaling part,” Kane said.

“I am currently doing my best. I will warn you if sensors indicate voids forming. From there, we still have a path forward.”

Dax strode forward with confidence. He watched where Jun’s feet fell and mirrored her path perfectly. Dax eyed Kane’s approach. While still moving quickly, his knees were bent. Each step was gentle, testing the ground before putting his weight on it.

“What are you doing?” Dax asked. “The field is clear.”

“I’ve walked through trapped fields that were cleared before. New uniforms were issued.”

“Just step where Jun steps,” Dax countered. “She’s heavier than us, so any trap doors or mines will go off on her before us.”

“Thank you for suggesting I be cannon fodder,” Jun called back.

“Not every mine goes off on the first step. Sometimes, they’re timed; others, they could be primed to detonate on the second.”

“Okay, take your time,” Dax huffed.

They continued pressing forward. Kane’s pace sped up to maintain Jun’s clip. He was still cautious with his approach. Once reaching the lab’s door, Dax gave the soldier a pat on the back.

“See? No stained uniform; we’re all good.”

“I feel it pertinent to point out that if Mark were here, he’d make a comment along the lines of ‘your pants are only unstained because of how brown they already are’,” Jun said.

“That sounds like him,” Dax said, looking at Sandrina. “You didn’t have to incapacitate anyone?”

“I was about to,” Sandrina said, motioning to the Bastet next to her. “But then Uthen walked into the room.”

“We worked together for over a decade. After a quick explanation, I agreed to be your escort throughout this facility,” the calico Bastet replied. “We’ve seen each other briefly, but never formally met. I’m Uthen.”

“Dax,” he said, shaking her hand. “The shiny one’s Jun and that’s Kane.”

“It’s nice to meet you all. I will ask that you change into the lab uniforms,” Uthen explained. “While I am okay with showing you around, other members of the facility may not be as lenient as I. We’re supposed to be getting fresh recruits in a few days. I can pass you off for them.”

“If the people here won’t be copacetic with our presence, how do we know we can trust you?” Dax asked. “No offense.”

“None taken. You’re just doing your due diligence,” Uthen replied. “Your work has saved countless lives, including my own. For that, I am in your debt. Helping discover if the AI we created has fallen into dangerous hands is the best way for me to repay my debt.”

“And I’d vouch for her with my life,” Sandrina added.

“I’m not detecting any changes in the base vital rate,” Jun called out. “Heart rate and body temperature are remaining the same. They seem to be telling the truth.”

Uthen looked Jun up and down before crossing her arms. Dax grabbed a lab uniform and tossed it to Kane before putting one on himself.

“You seem more aware than other androids,” Uthen said.

“That’s because I’m not like other androids,” Jun replied. “In a sense, I am your first successful creation.”

Uthen’s jaw dropped. Dax removed his jacket and holsters. He zipped up the jumpsuit, threw the holsters back on and covered them with a lab coat while tucking his jacket under his arm.

“You were faulty. How’d you become fully functional?” Uthen asked.

“I was struck with an ionic storm that purged faulty coding while hardening my core,” Jun explained.

“That also threw off her libido and gave her a propensity for feet,” Dax added.

“Now that you can understand me, I have dampened those portions of my personality to maintain a functioning relationship with the crew,” Jun explained. “The last thing I want is for everyone to get killed because I made them cringe at an inopportune moment.”

“And we’re grateful for that,” Kane said, throwing on his lab coat.

“That wasn’t an error in your coding. That was another one of the scientists working on you. He used logins that weren’t his own and thought he’d be funny. He’s since been let go,” Uthen explained. “The access to our current AI is completely locked down. No one in the facility has the ability to check in on it.”

Uthen turned to Sandrina.

“She said that wouldn’t be a problem and that you’ve got an ace up your sleeve? What does that mean?”

“It’s a phrase that means Jun, here, is our secret weapon,” Kane explained. “No one knows about her. She appears to be an assistant android, so she can be a pleasant surprise.”

“He is correct. Although, with the firewalls your system has in place, it would be faster for me to check in if I could interface with the control console directly,” Jun replied.

“The AI security is on a different, closed system, but I’d be more than happy to show it to you. Follow me,” Uthen replied.

As she touched her hand to the wall, a low whine filled the loading floor while the door started to close.

27

PHASE B

Uthen took Dax’s jacket and tucked it under her arm. Sandrina offered him his knife back. Sliding it into its sheath, he placed his hands in the lab coat pockets. The scientist led them through a series of large, bland corridors.

A group of security guards turned into the path. Dax’s throat tightened at seeing their leader, a Jarog, in tactical gear. A tickle toyed at the base of his skull like ants under his skin. He shuddered at the sensation. Uthen noticed. She stepped in front of the guard and placed a hand on the Jarog’s shoulder.

“Did you manage to look into those missing nodes I talked to you about?” she asked. “They may have been misplaced, but my team still can’t find them, and just in case it isn’t nothing, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that incident report.”

The Jarog’s fronds dropped. A look of exasperation overtook her face while she looked at Uthen. Dax felt the sensation at the base of his skull vanish.

“My team is working on it to the best of their abilities. As soon as I know something, you’ll know something,” she replied.

Her distraction gave the team time to pass the guards. Dax felt the lump in his throat lessen. With a thanks and a wave, Uthen jogged to catch up. She looked around the entire team before stopping on Dax.

“She tried to probe you, didn’t she?”

“It felt a lot like the other times members of her species tried to get into my head,” Dax replied.

“She’s trigger-happy, so the fact she’s not pointing a gun at you right now is a good thing. If any of you see another Jarog, just let your minds go blank. They can detect emotion. Don’t let yourself feel anything and it’ll be harder for them to detect.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Kane muttered.

“I agree,” Jun added.

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have three pounds of chemo electric anxiety meat in your skull,” Dax replied. “How many more Jarog are in this facility?”

“None that are in security,” Uthen said.

“What about the AI vault?” Sandrina asked.

“We recently renovated, so we’ll have to cut through some labs,” Uthen said, motioning to Dax and Kane. “If I were you, I’d keep your heads down. One or two of the old crew are here as well. They may recognize you too.”

Dax glanced at Kane and grimaced.

“That’s one factor I forgot to account for,” he whispered.

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t account for it either,” Kane replied.

“What do those labs work on?” Sandrina asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that,” Uthen replied.

“We’re not in the habit of stealing secrets or sharing them,” Kane added.

“You were about to break into my facility.”

“To make sure the extremely dangerous artificial intelligence is still here and that your boss didn’t give it to her morally dubious new boyfriend,” Dax argued. “Or that he didn’t steal it.”

“Are we going with morally dubious?” Sandrina asked.

They turned a corner. Two scientific teams walked past them. Everyone fell silent for several seconds, giving the customary partial smile and nod hello to the other races.

“He hired a Bastet to collect us as living specimens. Morally dubious is the nice way to put it,” Dax said after putting distance between them and the other group.

“Please tell me you’re not talking about Con Etch Sty,” Uthen scoffed.

“We certainly are. How do you know him?” Dax asked.

He glanced at Jun. Her eyes darted from one side to the other while she remained silent.

“He tried to infiltrate this facility. First step onto the lawn, he fell into a pit. Because he’s technically a Bastet diplomat, we had to help him out,” Uthen explained. “He immediately tried to rob us again. One of our scientists tripped him, and he fell and broke his nose. He then proceeded to flee, crying about the nose. He really tried to collect you?”

“Yes, he did,” Kane replied. “And when that didn’t work, he tried to blow us up.”

“Clearly, you found the bomb,” Uthen mused.

“Nope, we have a mentally traumatizing robotic canine on our ship. He found the bomb and snuck it back onto Con Etch Sty’s ship,” Dax explained. “Then he blew himself up.”

“There’s one annoyance we don’t have to worry about, then,” Uthen replied.

“Next gen state-of-the-art cybernetics. Schematics indicate a desire to integrate directly into severed nerve clusters allowing for direct control of the arm as if it were the original limb,” Jun announced.

“Did you just hack our system?” Uthen asked.

“I’ve been inside your system since the moment we set down.”

Uthen stopped. She stepped in front of Jun, holding up a hand.

“You have to stop right now. Get out of our systems. You’re going to reveal trade secrets.”

“Trade secrets don’t concern me,” Jun countered. “I am only here to ensure the security of the other AI platform. Anything else is inconsequential and will be scrubbed from my systems the moment this job is complete.”

Uthen shot Dax a stern look.

“We’re not here to steal secrets,” Dax said with a nod. “You know us. We wouldn’t be here if lives weren’t on the line. Like Jun said, we’re not interested in stealing anything.”

With a meaningful look from Sandrina, Uthen crossed her arms and huffed.

“Fine, but she doesn’t breathe a word about anything else she’s finding while in our system that isn’t confirmation of whether or not we’ve been robbed,” Uthen said, pointing at Jun.

“I can accept those parameters,” Jun replied.

With an affirming nod, Uthen approached a door. She swiped her hand in front of a scanner; it blinked and the door unlocked.

“That’s pretty advanced palm scanning,” Dax said.

They stepped into a lab where a half-dozen scientists of all different races interacted with holographic interfaces. Each one had an android unit assisting them built similarly to Jun.

“It’s not palm scanning. For ease and convenience, we’ve inserted the chips of our key cards into our hands,” Uthen explained. “It prevents them from being lost or stolen, and it ensures productivity remains high by preventing the frustration of having to return to your quarters to pick up the badge.”

“What happens if you’re exposed to a high-powered magnet?” Sandrina asked.

“It’s made from non-magnetic materials.”

“Okay, what if someone wants your card key and they’re meaning to do harm?” Kane asked. “In a high-stakes situation where security could come crashing down on you at any second and your hostage isn’t being cooperative, there’s really only one thing to do.”

Kane made a slicing gesture with his right hand over his left wrist. He shrugged, putting his hands back in his pockets and leaving Uthen speechless for several seconds.

“I think I may go back to the lanyard,” she muttered.

“That’s not a bad idea if you like keeping your hand,” Kane replied.

Uthen shuddered. She continued forward. Their presence barely pulled the attention of any of the scientists around them. Reaching the back of the lab, Uthen swiped her hand and opened the next door.

They stepped into a grey room with a single ocular scanner on the opposite side. Its color and lighting was so uniform, it messed with Dax’s eyes, looking like it went on forever.

“Did we just walk into the program launcher?” Dax muttered.

“What?” Kane asked.

“Mark would’ve gotten it,” Dax replied with a wave of his hand.

“He’s referring to the 1999 film, the Matrix. While this room does bear a resemblance, it’s grey, not white,” Jun chimed in.

“If you have to explain it, it kind of kills the joke,” Dax said.

“The retinal ID is the only way to activate the system’s unlocking features and is only paired with one person’s eye.”

“And she’s not here,” Sandrina pointed out.

“No. So, let’s hope you can get into this system without triggering any of the safety measures.”

“I’m sure I can,” Jun replied. “Time to start on phase two.”

She approached the scanner. Dax eyed the room. He caught a shine on the ceiling, cleverly blended to match the walls. Walking over to Sandrina, he gently tapped her with his elbow.

“Were there any recordings of this room?” he whispered.

“There were security cameras covering every inch of this place,” she replied, just as quietly.

Dax glanced at Uthen, watching Jun squat in such a manner Kane grunted and turned away.

“Can’t you just be normal?” Kane asked.

“Never question the artist,” Jun countered.

“So, every step we’ve taken has been recorded for someone to take a look at?” Dax asked, nodding at the camouflaged camera.

“Absolutely not. I ran a 24-hour loop from this day last month. Long enough back no one would notice, and natural light would match up to where it’s supposed to be.”

“What if someone finds it?” Dax asked.

“Even if they do, the virus I used to lock it in place is unbreakable. Mark wrote it up and had Jun stress test it,” Sandrina explained. “At the very least, our identities will remain an unknown.”

“Let’s hope.”

They turned back to Jun, pressed awkwardly against the wall with her eye to the sensor. A red light flashed several times across her face before it started to strobe.

“It’d be great if you didn’t have a seizure,” Kane called out.

“I don’t have neurons like you. I’m unable to be overloaded and have such a biological response,” Jun replied. “I am in the system.”

Her fingers curled against the wall. Dax moved in behind the android.

“You okay?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just so empty in here. It’s lonely.”

“The AI’s gone?” Kane asked.

“I don’t know, I’m not through yet. It’s the system itself. Being cut off from everything, it’s so quiet. And sad.”

“Has anyone accessed the system in the last seventy-two hours?” Uthen asked.

Jun’s head twitched several times. Dax’s hand instinctively moved for his pistol. The android raised her hand over her head.

“Unknown.”

“What do you mean unknown?” Kane asked.

“I mean there’s been activity in the system, but the data has been thoroughly scrubbed,” Jun replied.

“How thoroughly?” Dax added.

“Enough that even I am having trouble detecting it.”

She trailed off. Her arm fell to her side. Her head started to twitch once more. Dax drew his weapon, as did Kane.

“Whoa, that’s not necessary. I’m helping you guys,” Uthen said, putting her hands up.

“Jun, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Dax asked, kneeling next to her.

His heart nearly stopped mid-beat. Fear filled the android’s face. The light started to blink on her eye faster, causing hers to twitch. Dax grabbed her tightly by the shoulder.

“Jun…Jun?? Are you okay?”

“I’m not alone in here,” she whispered.

Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“The AI’s in there?” Kane asked.

“No, someone beat us to it. Something’s watching me.”

Her voice started to fill with panic. Dax watched her hands press fruitlessly against the wall.

“Dax, it’s coming for me. Help!” she whimpered.

Dax stood; he moved to Jun’s other side before crouching once again.

“Are you as far out of the system as you can get?”

“Yes, I just can’t pull all the way out,” she replied.

Kane immediately stiffened, catching Uthen’s attention.

“What?” the Bastet asked.

“If she didn’t make a joke at that, something’s really wrong,” Kane replied.

Dax watched the blinking light. He recognized part of the pattern from when he was trying to understand Jun.

“It’s strobing in binary,” Dax called out.

He put his hand over Jun’s eye. With all his might, he pulled her away from the wall. She hit the ground; her joints whirred. Beeps and groans rose from her system before she fell limp to the floor, eyes drifting in two different directions.

Dax’s stomach dropped. He looked at the rest of his team. They stood wide-eyed, looking at Jun’s body.

“Is she… is she dead?” Uthen asked.

A low chunk reverberated through the facility. The lights turned red, accompanied by a series of low beeps. Uthen rushed to the door and pulled it open. Screams flooded into the room from the scientists being attacked by their android companions.

“Call an evacuation order of the entire facility!” Kane barked, pulling Uthen back. “And shut off the alarm.”

“I can’t. This is a level-five alert. All of the building’s defenses will come online. Including the security drones!”

28

ESCAPE

Dax rushed to Kane’s side, raising his pistol. The androids turned to face them. Their ocular intake nodes started to glow a soft blue while they marched toward the open door.

With a squeeze of his trigger and a flash of yellow plasma, Dax’s first round punched through the chest of the nearest robot. It pressed forward without flinching, with a glowing hole through it. Kane’s gun let out two whispers of shots. The metal head whipped back. Its arms fell limp at its sides.

“Why is the control unit in its head?” Dax asked.

He aimed at one that leapt toward them. With a squeeze of his trigger, a molten metal hole was punched straight through its casing. It hit the ground motionless.

“You’d think it’d be in the chest,” Kane replied.

With two more shots, he dropped a second.

“These are lab assistants. We needed more space in the torso to handle processing power,” Uthen called out.

Dax moved to the next one. With a single shot, he put down the fourth shiv-holding being.

“They’re programmed to help, not harm!”

“Yeah, well, looks like the security measures make them want to harm everyone,” Kane argued, deactivating his third. “And I didn’t bring a lot of ammo, so I’m going to need something a little heavier than this.”

The last assistant closed the distance to Dax. It stabbed at him with a shard of ripped-free table in hand. Pulling back, he narrowly dodged the attack. With his free hand, he grabbed the shiv-wielding wrist. In a blur of motion, Dax closed the distance. He shoved his pistol under the android’s chin and squeezed the trigger twice. Its head snapped back. Dax pulled his gun away. Slag dripped to the ground while the body fell flat.

“And I could use a gun,” Sandrina added.

Dax pulled his knife free and handed it to Sandrina.

“It’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you,” Sandrina replied.

“We don’t have an armory,” Uthen muttered. “All our defenses aside from that one security team are in the hands of our androids.”

“Well, they’re not going to be any help,” Dax grunted. “And the robots are coming to kill us, so that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“How do we take out the security drones?” Kane asked, keeping his eyes on the opposing door.

“Their armored plating is too thick,” Uthen explained. “You’re not going to be able to get through them with pistols.”

“Y-y-y-your assumption is incorrect,” Jun stammered.

Her voice wound up like a computer turning back on. A pinprick of relief overtook Dax at the sound. He looked back to see her sitting up. Her eyes spun in different directions for several seconds. Jun grabbed her slack jaw and forced it back into place.

“Bastet rounds burn hot enough to overt-t-t-take the enamel coating of your defense drones,” she added.

Climbing to her feet, Jun approached the group.

“What happened to you?” Sandrina asked.

“The AI once housed in that vault has grown malevolent. It has taken control of every unprotected system in this facility. And it aims to kill us all.”

“Those drones are protected systems,” Uthen countered.

“Not protected by an AI,” Jun explained. “And I was only able to keep him out by shutting down.”

She marched to the door. Grabbing two sharp metal fragments for herself, she turned to Dax. With a gentle hand, she touched the lower right-hand corner of his chest.

“That is where their armor is weakest. Hit there. It’ll shut them down temporarily.”

“We don’t want them shut down temp⁠—”

Dax was cut off by Kane opening fire. He looked back to see a handful of security bots wielding large plasma rifles. His heart started to race. With his chest tightening, Dax barely noticed the hot ball of lead twisting in his guts.

“Those T-800’s look very angry,” Kane grumbled.

“COVER!” Dax shouted.

Everyone dove out of sight. A shower of plasma pelted the wall and the safe door. Within seconds, the wall behind Dax started to heat up. Paint started to bubble while the soft glow of the steel wall shone through.

Dax dropped to the ground, under their line of fire. Taking several deep breaths, his heart pounded against his sternum. With steady hands, he pushed himself up to see one of the androids. Taking aim, he fired two shots. They both hit, sending the robot to the ground.

“Perfect, keep going,” Jun ordered.

Dax pushed himself out a little further. With two more shots, he deactivated a second. A plasma round splashed against the ground next to his head. He closed his eyes. Before he could turn away, droplets of superheated gas spattered against his face.

Dax shouted in pain. Sandrina grabbed his lab coat and yanked him back into cover. The heat quickly turned cold as it seared through nerves. Grunting, he pushed himself to his knees.

“I could only get two,” he growled.

Heavy metal feet clomped against the ground. Part of the wall gave way, letting rounds scream over their heads.

“Uthen, is there anyone you can call in this facility who could help us?” Kane shouted.

“There isn’t anyone else armed.”

“This wouldn’t happen in America,” Dax teased. “Three guns for every citizen. Those things would be put down already.”

The rate of fire started to slow. Dax looked at Sandrina. She shrugged. Uthen did the same when he looked at her. Kane pointed behind him. He turned his attention to Jun. Her eyes darted back and forth. Gradually, the gunfire stopped, as did her erratic eye movements.

“You’re clear,” she said softly.

The stench of charred rubber and chemicals burned Dax’s nostrils as paint oozed down the walls. The taste of atomized steel coated the back of his throat.

As he rose, Dax kept his weapon level, aimed at the small army of androids. They stood at attention, their eyes glowing a soft yellow.

“Why are they just staring at me?” Dax whispered.

“I’m not staring at you,” Jun said.

Her voice rose from the group in front of him.

“I’m running system diagnostics on this batch to finish the intrusive AI purge.”

“Great, do that for the entire station,” Kane ordered.

“I can’t,” Jun countered. “They have to get shut down to allow me access, and then I have to stay within range. The second I leave, they’ll be open for takeover again.”

“Let’s get the civilians to safety, then we’ll come back and clear out the rest of the facility, save who we can,” Kane ordered.

“Copy that, on me,” Dax said.

He pushed out of the room. Watching his step, he moved around the growing puddles of fallen scientists.

“How sure are you they’re not going to vaporize me when I get closer?” Dax asked.

“If they were going to, they’d have done it by now,” Jun countered.

Dax reached the door. Sounds of rifle fire echoed through the hallways before several explosions rocked the facility.

“Fall back, fall back,” a robotic voice shouted.

Dax peered into the hallway to see three burning robots drop their weapons while trying to retreat. A gout of flame quickly consumed them. They fell to the ground, their internal workings melted. Once the fire died down, three soot-and-blood-covered scientists emerged with two makeshift flamethrowers.

“You can’t move without hydraulic hoses,” one of them taunted.

“Good luck sending messages through wires that aren’t rated for twelve hundred degrees Fahrenheit,” another added.

The third held up a duct-taped together radio.

“This is chem lab, northern corridor clear.”

Another explosion rocked the building, sending waves of dust falling from the ceiling.

“This is engineering, east corridor clear,” a voice crackled through the radio.

“Does someone have eyes on AI development?” a different person asked.

The scientist holding the radio turned and looked directly at Dax.

“I’m seeing survivors…”

Before he could finish, a plasma round whizzed by his head. Dax broke cover while the other two scientists unloaded their homemade flamethrower. After an initial burst, they spurted out.

“Come on,” Dax shouted, waving to them. “We’ll cover you.”

The scientists abandoned their equipment and charged Dax. Using the corner for cover, he kept his gun aimed where the security shots came from. All three men scrambled toward Dax, shouting in fear and confusion.

One drone rounded the corner. Dax’s finger twitched. His round deactivated the android. Three more emerged in its place. He quickly continued to fire, trying to provide cover for the civilians. All three slid to a stop. They lost their footing, crashing into the ground while screaming in abject terror.

Jun’s force emerged. They provided precision cover fire for the scientists. Several stray shots removed heads, arms and legs, but they pushed forward. Kane rushed out of the room, putting his gun back in its holster.

“Cover me,” Kane ordered.

Sidestepping into the line of fire, he shot between Jun’s forces. Kane skidded and grabbed two of the rifles. He slid one to Sandrina before taking aim and joining in the firefight.

They pushed forward. Dax dodged his head to the left, narrowly outmaneuvering an enemy round. By the time Jun’s forces reached the main corridor, their numbers doubled from the ones that were temporarily shut down.

“What’s going on?” one of the scientists squealed.

“We have an AI on our side,” Uthen replied.

Jun emerged, helping the scientists to their feet while Sandrina joined Dax and Kane.

“How many people are still inside?” Uthen asked.

“Most of them made it to the manual escape pods,” one of the scientists replied. “Including us, we counted eight.”

“That means five are still in here,” Jun announced.

“We can do math,” Kane barked. “We need to get out of here before planning a rescue.”

“I’ll complete the rescue. You guys get the unarmed out,” Jun ordered. “My numbers will grow with each encounter. I’m the best bet.”

“Fine, but don’t get yourself killed or captured,” Kane relented.

Taking point, Dax and Kane rushed toward the exit. Uthen, Sandrina and the other civilians followed while Jun marched her army in the opposite direction.

“I’ll be sure to grab some scanners for the suits too,” she shouted back.

Reaching the door, Uthen swiped her hand. It started to open. An ear-ringing blast ripped through the opening, causing Dax to throw his hands over his ears. His vision blurred from the concentrated sound.

“Sounds like some got outside,” Dax shouted.

“What?” Kane replied.

Another round boomed into the building, reverberating off the hallways. After a few more seconds, the door opened completely. Thirty androids lay in pieces on the ground with mounds of dirt having rained down around them and deep holes ripped across the grass.

“I said I think some got outside,” Dax screamed.

“Yeah, and Dalia got them,” Kane replied.

“What’s going on in there?” Dalia’s voice came through Dax’s translator.

“Some long story. Is the ground still safe?” Dax replied.

“Mines are still deactivated. I’m not sure about the pits.”

“Copy that. Everyone, grab a heavy body part and start throwing it in front of us while we retreat.”

Dax grabbed a robot head and tossed it. It hit the ground before rolling safely to a stop.

“I think Jun may frown on that,” Henuva added.

29

DITCH

Pieces littered the ground in a line straight to the forest edge. Dax led the team while Kane and Sandrina covered their retreat. Once close enough, Dalia and Henuva rushed out to meet them and watch their backs as they got to safety.

“What happened?” Dalia asked.

“The AI isn’t in there,” Dax replied.

“And it’s hacked into the systems, activated the drones and is now trying to take everyone out,” Uthen added.

“Who’s this?” Henuva asked.

“She used to work with me,” Sandrina replied.

“Where’s Jun?” Dalia added.

“She’s helping clear out the security robots with a little army of her own,” Dax replied. “We were able to temporarily deactivate some. She took them over, deactivated others. Last time we saw her, she had about forty under her control.”

Plasma rounds flew through the sky off the facility’s roof. Uthen ducked behind Dalia while everyone raised their weapons toward the gunfire. Dax watched closely, his finger hovering over the trigger, primed to squeeze. A half dozen androids appeared on the roof, backing up while shooting.

Dax acquired a target. It slipped on the rounded roof. Sparks flew from it while it slid down. Striking the lip of the main door, it flipped through the air before hitting the ground. One by one, the controlled drones fell off the building into a small heap.

Jun’s forces moved to the edge. They all aimed downward and opened fire. In a rain of plasma, the enemy robots were reduced to a glowing pile of slag. The drones parted, making way for Jun to march through wearing a slightly singed lab coat.

“That is how you make an entrance,” she shouted through her army.

“I don’t remember her having one of those,” Uthen whispered.

“It’s because she didn’t when we split ways,” Kane replied, putting his gun away.

Dalia slung her gun over her shoulder. Dax kept a wary eye on the androids with his gun still ready to fire.

“Is it clear?” Dalia asked.

“All security drones that are not on this roof have been destroyed. What’s left of the security team is retrieving the weapons, and the survivors are accounted for and secure,” Jun explained.

“Perfect, come on down. We’ll deactivate the others and finish securing the site,” Dax called up.

Without missing a beat, Jun’s controlled robots stepped off the roof in perfect unison. Each line landed on their feet with a heavy thud. They started marching forward, narrowly ahead of the next line landing. Dax kept his gun aimed at the scorched deactivation points.

“That’s not terrifying at all,” Henuva huffed.

Once the last line dropped, Jun jumped down. She landed in the middle of them. Dax noticed her finger twitch. Every plasma rifle hit the ground. With a slight twist of her wrist, they scattered, walking into the field and positioning themselves at even intervals.

“Oh, that’s not great,” Dalia muttered, taking a step back. “Everyone fall back a few hundred yards.”

“What is it?” Kane asked.

“Every one of those robots are standing on a currently deactivated mine. If they go active, this entire field is going up.”

“Let it,” Uthen huffed. “This entire facility’s burned. We’re going to have to abandon it and find a new location.”

“You’d better use a different network,” Jun said, approaching the group. “The AI that took over is familiar with your systems now.”

“Is it actively hostile?” Henuva asked.

“What do you think?” Dax asked.

His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Not necessarily. This could’ve been a security measure to hide the fact that it’s missing,” Jun explained.

“Likely in the hands of Tussanu,” Dax added.

“That is a probability,” Jun said.

Dax holstered his weapon. He turned to Uthen while Sandrina returned his knife. Sheathing it, he ensured it was secure.

“Do you have a way off this planet?”

“We do.”

“Good. Typically, I’d offer to help clean this mess up, but we’ve got an important job waiting on us.”

“I understand. You keep saving the galaxy, we’ll clean up here,” Uthen replied, turning toward Jun. “But could you wait until I’m inside with the door shut before you blow everything to kingdom come?”

“Of course. You’re a friend of the OGREs. I wouldn’t blow you up,” Jun replied.

Dax leaned over toward Jun.

“That implies you’d blow up those who aren’t friends,” he whispered.

“Without a moment’s hesitation.”

“Good to know.”

Uthen walked over to Sandrina. She handed Dax’s jacket to her before they embraced and said their goodbyes. After one final thank you, the scientist returned to her facility and shut the door behind her. Dalia looked at the blue sky dotted with tufts of white clouds.

“We’re ready,” she announced.

Their ship appeared as a small black speck against the cloud. It grew rapidly, pulling into a vertical hover a few yards over their heads. Its engines charged the air with their electric humming.

Dax moved toward the cargo bay’s door. Standing under it, he looked up to see it opening and Mark standing on its edge. He leaned out and waved.

“I’m getting readings of explosives in the ground. I’m not putting her down,” he shouted.

“Copy that, we’ll jump,” Dax replied. “Henuva, Dalia, get over here.”

As they approached, he waved Henuva up first.

“Dalia, help me toss him,” he ordered.

“Wait a second. You can’t just throw me,” Henuva countered.

“Yes, we can, for two reasons,” Dax countered. “You’re not making that jump.”

“That’s only one. What’s the other?” Henuva asked.

“Man tosses dwarf, dwarf tosses orc,” Dax motioned toward Dalia. “Orc tosses elf.” He motioned to Henuva. “Elf tosses man. The rock, paper, scissors of it states only a man can toss a dwarf so long as no one tells the elf.”

“That makes no…”

Before Henuva could finish, Dalia grabbed the back of his armor and flung him skyward. A squeal erupted from the suit. His arms and legs flailed. Mark barely caught his wrist and pulled him up.

“Not cool,” he shouted down.

“A little bit,” Dax teased. “Sandrina, you’re next.”

The Bastet got a running start and leapt into the ship. Kane and Jun approached.

“I’ll keep an eye out for inbound hostiles while you three fall back,” Kane explained.

“No, you won’t,” Jun countered. “You and Dax are the logical next two to load up. Dalia will need an extra throw and help pulling her up.”

“I can make that jump,” she scoffed.

“Outside of your armor, maybe,” Jun countered. “But with a combined weight of almost half a ton, your chances of making that jump unaided are slim.”

Dax interlaced his fingers together. He looked at Kane, then nodded toward the ship.

“You heard her. Jump,” Dax said.

With a grumble, Kane placed his foot in Dax’s hand. Counting down, he flung Kane up with all his might. The soldier sailed past the ramp. Extending one foot, he caught himself on the edge and entered the vessel. Dalia approached Dax and interlaced her fingers.

“Do me a favor and only give me like ten percent,” Dax said.

“I don’t want you to miss the ramp,” Dalia argued.

“Yes, but I’d rather miss the ramp and land on soft grass than bounce off the ceiling and concuss myself before bouncing off the ramp and falling anyway.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod, bracing herself. “Ten percent.”

Dax placed his foot in her hands and his hands on her shoulders. After a few deep breaths, he counted down. On one, he jumped while she pushed him up. Soaring through the air, he passed the ramp. Throwing his hands up, he winced, bracing for the vertical impact.

Mark’s arms wrapped around Dax’s waist. In a blur of motion, he was pulled into the ship and slammed onto the ground. The impact rattled him, and his lungs burned while the air was pushed from them. Rolling to his back, he groaned, only to be met by Kane’s hand.

“You didn’t have to suplex me,” Dax wheezed.

He grabbed the offering and allowed himself to be yanked to his feet.

“It wasn’t a suplex. At best, it was a body slam, but in reality, more of a re-direction of kinetic energy,” Mark argued.

“That is the most BS rebranding I’ve ever heard. Are you sure you weren’t looking to work for a politician back on Earth?” Kane teased.

“The simple fact that I got caught should be an indicator at how bad I would’ve been at it,” Mark replied. “I’m headed to the cockpit. Henuva, Sandrina, I could use your eyes.”

With that, all three disappeared into the hallway. Dax and Kane walked to the ramp. Looking over the edge, Dax rubbed his slightly sore chest. Dalia placed a foot in Jun’s hands.

“We’re ready,” Kane shouted.

Both men reached out while the Dal’no was flung skyward. Each caught a different hand and pulled her onto the ship. Before she was on her feet, Jun landed with her hands in her pockets.

“We’re clear,” she announced.

The engines buzzed loudly. Dalia moved into the cargo bay and started the laborious process of removing her armor. Dax looked over the edge to see the ship pulling away from the facility. Jun waved Kane over.

“You want to see something fun?” she asked.

“Always,” Kane replied.

He walked to the edge and looked out as well. Dax watched the field of robots shrink. Jun held up three fingers with a countdown. Once hitting zero, a bristle of explosions rippled across the field, completely upturning it and destroying what was left of her army before she lost control.

“That is a beautiful thing.” Kane chuckled.

He turned and walked straight into the crew quarters. Dax hit the button to retract the ramp. As it shut and the ship turned spaceward, Jun turned toward Dax.

“I was present, and I couldn’t overpower that AI,” she said softly.

“I think you’re confusing me with someone who knows anything about computers,” Dax replied.

“With my proximity, I should’ve been able to overpower the control of the other system. I couldn’t.”

“Again, tell it to me like I’m a third grader.”

“One of two things, if not both, is possible. Either the second one is more powerful than I am, or it has a booster unlike anything I’m aware of.”

“And if it’s both?” Dax asked.

“I’m out of the mission,” Jun replied, shrugging. “If I get close enough to that AI, it will know I’m there. I was barely able to keep it from overriding me and we’re how many hundreds of millions of miles away? If I get close enough that it knows I’m there, I don’t think I’ll be fast enough to block it out next time.”

“You’re benching yourself for Tussanu?” Dax asked.

“Mark’s just as good of a hacker as I am. Being an organic, he’s just a little slower. But that also means his code can’t be re-written to kill you all.”

“That’s a valid point. I appreciate you being self-aware enough to be willing to bench yourself,” Dalia said, folding the wolf bear pelt before starting on the suit’s legs.

“You’re family. I’d do anything for family,” Jun replied.

“Okay, Dom.” Dax chuckled.

Jun pulled her hands from her pockets. Opening them, she revealed a series of microchips in each hand. Dax leaned forward and inspected the pieces of equipment. They stank, holding a slight tinge of melted plastic to them. In the center of each one sat a small dome.

“These will allow for a deeper scan once integrated into your suits,” Jun explained. “You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did I?”

“Absolutely not,” Dax said with a grin. “Good work. If you want to clean those up, I’m sure that’d be a good time killer while we head to Tussanu.”

“Roger that,” Jun replied.

30

EN ROUTE

Dax lay in his bed. His hands rested behind his head while he stared at the obsidian ceiling. Dalia sat on the floor, her legs crossed, with the new rifle disassembled in front of her. He listened to her work. A sense of peace washed over him.

He turned to her, watching her work. Her hair was perfect, as always, not a hair out of place, with a braid falling over one shoulder. Her eyes narrowed while she picked up a small piece of metal and held it up to the light, inspecting it closely.

“How do you manage it?” he asked.

“Depends what you mean. Look this good? Because I’m hot,” she said, taking the words out of his mouth before playfully shimmying her shoulders. “Know what I’m doing? I’ve had enough lessons on weapons from Kane and Henuva to put two and two together.”

“Oh, actually, I was referring to your hair,” Dax jested. “You never seem to get helmet hair.”

“I heard Mark call it a plot device?” she teased.

Dax sat up. He put his feet on the ground and leaned against his knees.

“Does that mean you named your suit ‘Plot’, then?” he flirted back.

She flashed him a smile before lowering the device. Leaning forward, she gave him a soft kiss, which sent goosebumps cascading over his body.

“You’re cute,” she whispered before sitting back down.

“I try to be,” he teased.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with your hair?”

Dax grabbed some of his shoulder-length locks and looked at them. Shrugging, he ran his fingers through it to keep it slicked back.

“I just figured pin it behind my ears like I always do to keep it out of my face. Why?”

“Growing it out to embrace part of my culture as my Battle Bonded is sweet, but I think you should do something different with it for Tussanu’s,” Dalia said, starting to re-assemble the gun.

“What are you thinking?”

“I would say try and match his. Long on the top and pulled back, short on the sides. According to Kane, mirroring is an easy way to get someone to subconsciously like you.”

Dax sat straight up. He crossed his eyes and furrowed his brow.

“Really?” he asked.

Dalia sat up straight, crossed her arms and furrowed her brow while she nodded.

“I’ve seen a few people on Tachyon do it once or twice,” Dalia replied. “Seems to have worked for them.”

Dax cracked a smile and stood up.

“I see what you’re doing,” he said, leaning forward. “And it’s not going to work.”

“Oh really?” she asked, batting her eyes at him. “Why not?”

“Because you can’t get me to like you when I already love you.”

“I beg to differ,” she countered, leaning toward him. “You can love someone and not like them.”

“Well then, I love you and I like you.”

Dax met her in the middle, giving her another soft kiss.

“I love you and I like you,” she replied. “Now go find someone to clean you up.”

“You’re not volunteering?”

“The only kind of haircut I’m used to giving is the kind where you grab the part you don’t want cut off and slice the rest. I’d butcher you.”

“Fair enough. I’ll go see what Jun’s doing.”

“Just Jun?”

Dax stepped over the gun and headed toward the door.

“Kane only knows how to give a high and tight. Mark’s idea of a haircut is even more rudimentary than yours. Sandrina might know a thing or two, but she’s been on the ship for years and I’ve never seen her hair grow. And Henuva’s a scientist. They tend to be socially awkward and hair fashion is the last thing on their minds.”

“Now that you can heal, you’re a little worried he’s going to try and scalp you if you ask him, aren’t you?”

“Little bit,” Dax said with a nod.

With the tap of a button, his bedroom door slid open. Sandrina stood in front of the room meant for her and Kane.

“Sandi,” Dalia shouted.

The Bastet turned. She leaned to peer around Dax.

“Do you know how to cut hair?”

Sandrina flipped her hand through her green shoulder-length locks.

“Only my own,” she replied. “Just grab and cut.”

“My girl,” Dalia called out before the door automatically shut.

“Is she looking for a haircut?” Sandrina asked, turning to Dax.

“No, she thinks I need one to match Tussanu’s. That it’ll be disarming enough to make him more receptive to our request.”

“I mean, every bit could help if half the things we’ve heard about him are true,” Sandrina said, opening her room. “Kind of a shame, though. The long hair looks good on you.”

“Thank you. Get some rest.”

“I intend to,” she said, disappearing into her room.

Dax moved through the hallway and into the cargo bay. Kane and Henuva sat with another one of the android guns, inspecting it closely. They muttered to one another about its power source, heat sink and power output.

“These circuits could likely handle ten times the power this source can produce,” Henuva muttered.

“How can you tell?” Kane asked.

“I may not know a ton about the coding part of technology, but I did have a hand in building my labs, so I at least know the mechanics.”

“I can’t argue with that logic,” Kane replied. “What are you seeing here?”

“The power source is the third strongest I’ve ever seen. It’s only about half of a Bastet design, though.”

“Okay, that’s number two. What’s number one?”

Henuva turned and looked at Dalia’s sound cannon.

“If we could put that power source in one of these, it’ll probably be able to punch through a ship hull like a hot knife through butter.”

“You do realize her gun is more precious to her than Kane’s are to him?” Dax asked. “If you touch that thing, she’ll rip your arm off and likely beat you to death with it.”

“Eh, it’s detachable, I could probably talk her down before she does any lasting damage,” Henuva countered.

“I wasn’t talking that arm.”

Henuva’s back stiffened and eyes widened.

“Didn’t think of that.”

“Bet you didn’t,” Dax said, turning his attention to Kane. “Is Jun in the cockpit?”

“Yeah, did I hear you say you wanted a haircut? I used to cut your hair when we were incarcerated. I’ll happily do it again if you’re looking for a change-up.”

“I want something that has a little more nuance than a high and tight,” Dax countered. “And that’s all you know how to do.”

“Not going to ask me?”

“How tempted would you be to scalp me mid-cut?”

“I withdraw my question,” Henuva huffed.

Dax turned to the cockpit and walked in. He froze mid-step. His face contorted unnaturally, and his eyes widened. Jun sat at the sensor station. Mark stood over her, his staff in hand. The young man held the crystal against her forehead. Her body was limp in the seat with her eyes rolled back.

“I came in on something weird, didn’t I?” Dax asked.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Mark replied, keeping his eyes on the crystal contact point.

“Then why isn’t she saying anything?” Dax asked, pointing at Jun.

“Because all of her processing power is currently going to data transfer,” Mark explained. “And this unit doesn’t have a tenth of that power compared to her housing in the ship.”

“What data is she transferring?”

“Anything and everything on the AI system that tried to assume direct control. That way, I know what to look for and can study it and possibly make a firewall that’ll buy us a few seconds if that’s ever needed.”

“How long until we’re at Tussanu’s?”

“A little less than two days.”

“Can you write something complex enough to stop an AI with that little time?”

“I’m always up for a challenge,” Mark replied. “Besides, I think I know how to get a leg up on our little collector.”

Mark tapped the staff before motioning at the crystal, which pulsed a soft green.

“This type of tech is Valtakuntera exclusive. I can disguise myself as a humanoid scavenger that’s part of your crew and offer it to him as a gift. He’ll likely put it in his vault, then I can remote access it from there.”

“And what happens if the hostile AI is in the vault, or more likely, already in Tussanu’s system?”

“That’s why we’re doing this,” Mark replied. “Jun’s been able to analyze the other AI code. It’ll help with the firewall I create.”

“Is there any way to harden her signal so she doesn’t get hacked again?” Dax asked. “Since she’s going to be taking the ship, I imagine in drop-off or at the landing pad, she’ll be in range of Tussanu’s network.”

“I thought the same thing, so I reached out to Decombres to get a little more information. Drop-off and parking seem to be outside of Jun’s range, but just in case, she will cut herself off. That does mean, though, we won’t have contact with her while we’re inside.”

“I trust she’ll be able to fly this thing if she gets into trouble. Likely even better than you.”

“Probably,” Mark replied.

“My next question is, how do we plan on communicating with each other once inside? I imagine any form of wave could be detected by an AI.”

“Our translators,” Mark explained. “They’re custom-made using coding that isn’t found anywhere else in the universe. Without a databank to pull from, once we start communicating with each other, I estimate it’d take about an hour before the AI is able to create a counter for the devices.”

“Then it’s all in-person communication until we’re ready to drop the hammer,” Dax said, tapping his fingers against his leg.

“When we get there, don’t speak any Earth languages.”

“You want me to talk gibberish?” Mark asked.

The pulsing light faded. Mark removed the staff. He inspected it for a few seconds before activating the holographic display.

“No, because questions may come up I need to translate a realistic answer for. I need to be able to understand you.”

“I’m decent with Dal’no, and passable with Valtukta.”

“Dalia’s in our crew, so we’ll do Dal’no. If things get bad enough, though, switch to pig Latin.”

“Opyca attha,” Mark said.

“That is not the strongest linguistic cypher you could use,” Jun said.

Dax looked at the android. Her eyes rolled every which direction before centering. Her body whined to life before she sat upright.

“Was the transition complete?”

“It appears to be intact and usable,” Mark replied, eyeing the holographic information.

“What kind of linguistic cypher would you suggest?” Dax asked.

“A rolling language encryption.”

“Pretend I don’t know what that is.”

“You cycle through different languages and move around the words in the sentence randomly,” Mark explained. “In middle school, a friend of mine and I did it. Just mixing English and Spanish was tough enough. I don’t know how it could be pulled off with Dal’no, Valtukta and Bastet, though.”

“I’m not sure even I could pull something so complicated off.”

“Not without a lot of practice,” Jun said, standing up. “What brings you to the cockpit?”

“I need a haircut, and I don’t trust anyone on this rig to not make me look like a four-year-old’s Barbie doll,” Dax explained. “Dalia seems to think it needs to match Tussanu’s look.”

“I can do that. You will want some differences, so it doesn’t look like you’re copying him, but I’ll take care of the clip.”

Jun opened her hand. Dax pulled the Dal’no blade from its sheath and placed it in her palm.

“First thing to go is that braid.”

Dax looked at Mark while taking a seat.

“Okay, but Dalia cuts the braids off first.”

31

INBOUND

Dax looked at his reflection in the bathroom. He rubbed his beard that Jun had perfectly faded to meet his hair length. She’d added two bald lines that arched from his temple to the hairline at the back of his neck.

“I guess that’ll work,” he muttered.

“Are you almost done admiring yourself?” Sandrina asked. “I need to finish my hair.”

“You’ve got Kane’s room to work in,” Dax replied.

“He and Henuva are trying to create this superweapon. He’s got parts spread all over the place. I don’t want to get grease on anything.”

Dax looked at his new clothes, folded nicely on a towel shelf.

“Give me a second,” he said. “I need to get dressed real quick.”

“I thought the men of your species got ready fast. You’ve been in there for twenty minutes.”

“I just want to make sure Jun didn’t miss any spots. It was her first haircut, after all.”

Dax pulled off his shirt and quickly stripped himself of his pants. Grabbing the outfit Dalia chose for him, he squeezed into the form-fitting, high-collared outfit. Shin-high boots transitioned smoothly into black pants. He fastened the leather belt to help keep them up.

Grabbing the scissor-tailed jacket, he threw it on. Blue highlights accented the pointed tails that settled an inch from the ground. He strapped the breast of his jacket together with a Velcro-like substance. Once completely dressed, he tucked his silky shirt into his pants. Looking at his reflection once more, he took a deep breath. Hooking his fingers in the collar, he gave it a slight pull to give him extra room to breathe.

“You look ridiculous,” he muttered.

Grabbing his clothes, he went to the bathroom door and opened it. Sandrina stood with a dress slung over one arm and her hair supplies in the other. Her eyes widened. She took a half step back.

“Hello, sailor,” she said, looking him up and down. “Someone cleans up nice. If I wasn’t so worried about Dalia, I might be tempted to ask you to dinner.”

“You may be worried about Dalia, but I’m more worried about Kane.” Dax chuckled.

“He’ll listen to me if I tell him to step back.”

“Speaking of stepping back.”

Dax motioned toward the door, then to her.

“Oh, oh my, I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping to the side.

He walked through and straight to the cockpit. Dax placed his clothes in a pile on the sensor station’s seat. Picking them up one by one, he started to fold them.

“The outfit suits you well,” Jun said from the pilot’s seat.

“Thank you. Dalia picked it out.”

“She has good taste.”

Finishing the shirt, then the jacket, Dax quickly folded his pants and piled them on top of one another.

“Being that I’m part of that taste, I’m not going to argue with that,” Dax replied. “How long until we’re out of leap?”

“Ten to fifteen minutes,” Jun replied. “In twenty, we should be ready to disembark.”

“Perfect. Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as you are.”

Dax left the cockpit and returned to the cargo bay. Henuva stood next to Kane. The Valtukta wore Mark’s armor while the soldier was in his own.

“Mark, okay with this?” Dax asked, pointing at the suit.

“He suggested it,” Kane replied. “Said that since he doesn’t have my training to just disappear, it’d be better to have the option in case something went wrong.”

“Yeah, now are you going to be using one of your guns?” Henuva asked.

“Mine are too loud. Plasma may be bright, but at least it won’t alert everyone in a half-mile radius.”

“Use mine,” Dax offered. “This is a no-weapons event, so I won’t need it. But you might want it for the penetration.”

“I appreciate it.”

Kane walked over to Dax’s pile of weapons and armor. He grabbed the Bastet pistol. He went to grab the knife.

“Leave that. I’m going to try and pawn it off as a family heirloom.”

“And if they don’t buy it?” Henuva asked.

“I’ll keep track of it and retrieve it on escape.”

Mark’s room opened. He emerged in a form-fitting outfit as well. Layers flared off his shoulders, giving his clothing a draconic appearance. His face and hands were painted a bright blue. The young man paused, seeing everyone staring at him.

“Didn’t Kane say that if we painted our faces, he’d launch us out of the airlocks?” Dax asked.

“Yes, I did,” Kane replied.

“True, but it’s mission critical and I’m dressed as a Wontan,” Mark argued.

“You’re a wonton?” Kane jested.

“WontAN,” Mark countered.

“It’s a good cover,” Henuva said.

He approached Mark. Inspecting him closely, he shook his head in amazement.

“I’ve got to say, I’ve never seen a disguise this thorough. You’d be able to fool me.”

“And why is that important?” Kane asked.

“Because I’ve studied their biology thoroughly to see what DNA intersects with the Valtukta.”

“Like you studied us?” Dax asked, sliding his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, but that was a half-century before you,” Henuva explained. “And they’re a wonderful cover. The Wontan work exclusively in Valtakuntera space and retrieve destroyed or damaged tech from our battles. And they sell it back to us; cheaper than hiring scavengers ourselves.”

Mark looked at Kane, smirked then stuck his tongue out.

“And if you throw me out an airlock, there goes your perfect cover.”

“Speaking of,” Henuva said, turning toward Dax. “What’s your cover again?”

“I’m the man that destroyed the Junkyard and her crew,” Dax replied, motioning to the piece of twisted metal. “I’ll try to convince him we’re dead. If he doesn’t buy it, talk him out of continuing to hunt us by proving ourselves an asset…”

“And if neither of those work?” Kane cut in.

“Why do you think you two are arming up? He’s already tried to take us out once. If he refuses to take the peaceful route, I won’t lose any sleep by removing him from the board.”

“Don’t forget we need to locate Bleeze’s sister and her AI as well,” Mark added.

“If the AI isn’t fully integrated into Tussanu’s system yet, it’ll be in his vault,” Henuva said. “If the stories around him are true, he’s going to have a state-of-the-art safe. Which means it’s going to be a dark matter vault that was built uniquely for him. You’ll have to figure out how to crack it on the fly.”

“Tough, but not impossible,” Mark replied.

“That’s what you think. Dark matter vaults are notoriously impregnable. They stand by their product so much that if someone were to break one of their safes, that entire line is gone,” Henuva replied. “I’m talking recalled and thrown into a star, gone.”

“Let’s have it, then,” Mark mused.

A shudder ran through the ship from Jun dropping them out of leap space.

“Ladies, if you aren’t ready yet, hurry it up,” Jun’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re hitting atmo shortly.”

“When we drop you guys off, keep radio and translator silence,” Dax said, motioning toward Mark. “He said that if the other AI is active, it’ll pick up the transmission and start looking for us.”

“Good to know,” Kane said.

The bathroom door opened. Sandrina emerged; her hair pulled back in a series of small braids. A dress of blue and green swirls that matched her fur and hair accented her slender frame. Dax glanced at Kane. His jaw was slack and eyes wide. He walked over to the soldier. With his index finger, he shut Kane’s mouth.

“You may want to…” Dax mimed wiping his chin. “You’ve got some slobber over there.”

“Justifiably,” Henuva mused. “Sandrina, you look great.”

“Thank you,” she mused, walking over to Kane. “I figured you’d like it.”

“That I do,” Kane murmured.

“Good,” she said.

Leaning forward, she gave him a kiss, causing Mark, Henuva and Dax to look away. After they separated, she turned toward Mark.

“You look indistinguishable from a Wontan. The staff’s a nice touch too.”

“Thank you. Hopefully, it’ll be our way in,” Mark said.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Dax asked.

“Single mom. I grew up watching her do her makeup every day. She eventually let me start putting it on her. It started out for fun, but I ended up getting really good at it,” Mark explained. “After that, Halloween became my favorite holiday.”

“You are continually full of surprises,” Kane said.

“What can I say, I have a series of big shoes to fill, and I can’t do it if I show all of my cards at once.”

“And how many more do you have up your sleeve?” Dax asked.

Mark grinned, shrugged and scratched next to the scars on his face.

“Not going to tell you.”

Dax made his way to his armor. He grabbed his knife and slid it up his left sleeve. He fiddled with the fabric until it was almost indistinguishable from the rest of his jacket lining.

“You know that’s getting taken from you, right?” Mark asked.

“Like I told your cyberfriend, I’ll play it off like a family heirloom. If they take it, I’ll keep track of it.”

“Cyber friend?” Sandrina asked.

“It feels wrong calling our ship’s consciousness his girlfriend.”

“Besides, that means he’d have built his own girlfriend, which is kind of sad.”

“Sad, or impressive?” Mark asked.

“Sad,” Dax replied.

“Or impressive?”

“Sad,” Henuva and Sandrina said in unison.

“Fine, I’ll relent. If I designed the body, yes, it’d be sad,” Mark said, throwing a hand up. “But I didn’t design the body, she did. All of it was all her. And of course we have a bit of a connection. I’m the only one that’s been able to understand her since, like, the second day we had her.”

The ship rocked once again. Jun’s voice crackled over their intercom.

“We’re entering planetary atmosphere. Sixty seconds until ramp deployment. Seventy-two until it’s time to deploy.”

“Copy that,” Kane said.

He and Henuva summoned their helmets and moved toward the edge of what would be the ramp. Dalia appeared out of the quarter hallway. Dax’s heart skipped a beat. Her dress started as a black lace collar that ran to her chest.

A night gray seam divided the clothing into a dark blue that was dotted with stars. It hugged her form, turning to a night blue around her stomach, keeping the tent all the way to the floor. Shimmering specks followed to its hem.

With each step, her matching high heels kicked out from under the dress. Her left leg broke free, revealing her thigh, almost up to her hip. She stopped a few yards away. A palpable silence fell over the cargo bay. Big metal butterflies fluttered around in Dax’s stomach.

Dalia’s cheeks darkened. She flashed a nervous smile and crossed her fully exposed arms. Arching an eyebrow, she looked around the room.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked.

“If it’s not Dax in about ten seconds, it’ll be me,” Sandrina jumped in.

Dalia shot a look at Kane. He shook his head.

“I can’t blame her on this one.”

Dax turned toward Mark. His eyes were glassed over and his jaw hung slack. Dax poked him a few times before waving a hand in front of his face.

“You did it. You finally broke Mark,” he mused. “In all seriousness, you are breathtaking.”

Dalia walked over to him. She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” she said.

Kane walked to the control panel with Henuva close behind. When he initiated the opening sequence a surge of wind whipped into the cargo bay. A split-second later a barrier appeared, cutting it off before it could mess up their hair or clothes.

“You’ve got nothing to say, Henuva?” Sandrina teased.

“I prefer life over compliments,” Henuva replied, summoning his helmet.

Jun slowed the ship to a hover. The jostling brought Mark partially back.

“That dress looks amazing on you,” he managed to whisper.

“It’s not the dress that makes the woman,” Dax replied.

“Now I feel like my response was less than ideal,” Kane grumbled.

“Oh, it was,” Henuva cut in. “Come on, we’re still outside of range.”

With a push, Henuva and Kane jumped off the ramp.

32

PHASE TERTIARY

Jun brought the ship down at the edge of a long walkway. Dax stepped off with the twisted piece of the Junkyard in one hand. He turned and offered the other to Dalia. She took his offer and moved out of the ship as well. Mark followed, helping Sandrina onto the catwalk. The ramp pulled itself up while Jun steered away, heading toward the landing platform.

Once the ship was gone, Dax looked around. He took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air before grimacing. Clouds stretched out in every direction. An occasional snow-covered peak protruded into the sun’s warm light.

“It would’ve been nice to know it was above a cloud bank,” Dalia whispered, goosebumps covering her body. “I would’ve picked something that showed a little less of me.”

“While I do want you to be comfortable, that would be a loss,” Mark replied.

“It’s not that bad,” Sandrina chimed in.

“You’re covered in fur; you’ve got a natural insulator,” Dalia countered.

“Do you want my jacket?” Dax asked.

She looked him up and down and scoffed.

“That tiny thing would barely cover one arm. Let’s just get inside.”

Sandrina reached into her dress lining. She pulled the invitation out from against her chest. Dalia looped her arm with Dax’s before they all turned toward the facility, a massive, opulent structure that rose to a point off the mountain top. The side facing them was glass from base to point, revealing a chandelier that glistened in the sunlight.

A woman of a race Dax hadn’t seen before walked down the strut-supported pier toward them with a data pad in one hand. She wore an elegant dress. Reaching them, she offered a kind smile.

“Your invitation?” she asked in Valtukta.

Sandrina stepped forward and offered the piece of paper. The woman took it and started to examine it closely.

“I wouldn’t expect a man who’s on the fringes of the Valtakuntera to have his staff speak in their tongue,” Dax replied in the same language.

“Typically, he doesn’t. But our guest of honor is bilingual, and her native language isn’t one many know,” she replied, sliding the invite into the back of her data pad. “As a courtesy to her, he requested everyone speak the unofficial universal language.”

“How accommodating,” Dax replied.

“Please, come this way.”

She turned and led them down the long, narrow path toward the sleek yet gaudy facility.

“I would like to meet Mr. Tussanu once we arrive,” Dax said.

“He makes it a point to meet with every one of his guests in the order they arrive. It won’t be until after the toast.”

They climbed a small flight of stairs, reaching a patio that led into the building. A Galio guard stepped out and looked them over. He motioned to Dax and waved for him to step forward.

When he followed the man’s instructions, a green light flashed over Dax, accompanied by a soft beep. The guard stepped forward and pointed at Dax’s left wrist. The professor set down his piece of the Junkyard. He pulled the sheathed Dal’no blade from up his sleeve.

“No weapons,” the guard ordered.

“It’s an antique family heirloom. I was hoping to present it to Mr. Tussanu himself,” Dax countered.

“Does it have an edge?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s a weapon. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take it.”

“At least keep it with this,” Dax said, holding the piece of twisted metal. “And I would like to present them both personally.”

“That is the agenda. Everything goes in the vault. After the toast, the invitees will be given a few minutes with him. His security will present the gifts, you will get to exchange a few words, then return to the party.”

“Fair enough,” Dax said.

He relinquished his items. The guard handed them off to another Galio who entered the house and took a flight of stairs under the main floor.

“You, green woman, you’re next.”

Dalia stepped forward. The light flashed over her with no beep.

“Thank you, you’re good to enter.”

She offered him a polite smile before motioning toward Sandrina. The Bastet stepped through, getting a clear scan. Mark followed up. His scan set off a beep. The guard motioned toward the staff.

“Don’t do it,” Dax thought to himself.

Mark held the staff with both hands.

“Please don’t do it.”

He leaned forward and offered the guard a weary smile.

“You wouldn’t separate an old man from his walking stick, would you?” Mark asked in a broken Valtukta.

The guard grabbed the staff out of Mark’s hands and tossed it to the man who accepted the offerings. It disappeared downstairs.

“It’s not a walking stick. Now, if you would please join the rest of the guests inside.”

With a reluctant shrug, Mark joined the rest of the group. They moved into the warm building. A floral scent filled Dax’s nostrils while Mark and Sandrina locked arms and stepped next to him.

“I can’t believe you tried to pull that off,” Dax said.

“It worked once before.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t have a top-of-the-line weapon detector. And the fact that you’re not a wizened old man means that will never work.”

“Eh, maybe in fifty to sixty years, I’ll be able to pull it off.”

“If we age the same anymore. Who knows what Henuva actually did to us,” Dax countered.

He glanced behind them to see the guard eyeing the group. Stepping further into the opulent white metal and stone building, he led Dalia and his team toward a marble statue of Tussanu that stood directly under the chandelier, with a fountain spewing water in artistic arcs around it.

“Someone has a nice and even balanced view of himself,” Dalia scoffed.

“For this being a temporary base, he sure goes all out,” Sandrina added, looking up at the fifteen-foot statue. “But we’re not here for his inflated sense of ego, so what’s the plan?”

Dax turned his attention from the sculpture to the rest of the party. Over a hundred people, dressed in their finest, filled the floor. Some disappeared into doorless rooms. Glasses of what looked like champagne were distributed on trays supported by drones. Hors d’oeuvres made their rounds by hand.

“Mingle,” Dax said softly. “Find out what you can about these people, then meet back here in twenty.”

“I don’t speak Valtukta,” Dalia whispered.

“That’s why I get to continue being your arm candy,” Dax replied, flashing her a smile. “Remember, Bleeze’s sister knows what we look like. Try not to get made by her just yet.”

“If she’s Tussanu’s girlfriend, what are the chances she’ll be there for the presentation of gifts?” Sandrina asked.

“High,” Dax replied. “But we need to find out what we’re dealing with and see if anyone can shed some light on her before our approach. If we do this wrong, she lets everyone know who we are and we get picked up before the buzz of the champagne hits.”

All three immediately turned their attention to Mark.

“That by no means gives you permission to drink,” Dax said.

“I’m of legal age,” Mark countered.

“Yes, but this is important, and we need all our wits about us,” Sandrina added.

Mark’s expression and shoulders fell.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“Smile,” Dalia mused, grabbing a glass off a passing drone. “Sad faces draw attention.”

“Why does she get a drink?” Mark asked.

“One drink sipped over an hour isn’t going to do anything to you,” Dax said. “And with her size and muscle mass, she’s not what you’d consider a lightweight. Now go, keep your eyes open and see what you can find out.”

With a nod, Mark and Sandrina drifted away from the room’s centerpiece.

“Where do you want to start?” Dalia asked, taking a sip.

“Let’s keep near the front,” Dax replied. “Plenty of light, people are more likely to be sociable, and if we can find spouses, they tend to know more than they let on.”

Dax looked at the opposite side of the room. The triangular ceilings came down nearly a hundred yards away from the entrance. It was well lit, with a library of books and a fireplace on the far wall. A handful of fastidious-looking men and women stood in front of the fire with smaller glasses and darker drinks, speaking with one another in hushed tones.

“I take it those are the people we want to avoid?” Dalia asked.

“They likely know the most, which means they are more than likely the most dangerous, so yes,” Dax replied.

He grabbed a flute as a drink drone passed. They turned back toward the main entrance while a new set of arrivals were being checked in. Dax scanned every face, in search of familiarity but finding none.

They entered one of the side rooms. The walls held inlaid displays of artifacts. Dax walked over to a plaque and gave it a quick read. He nodded in approval before looking at a strange arrowhead made of a bright blue stone.

“What’s it say?” Dalia asked.

“This is a display of the evolution of war from what is seemingly a long-dead civilization.”

They moved to the next display that was a sword and spear, out of a slightly darker blue material. An overweight man that stood a few inches taller than Dax approached Dalia’s left side. He was draped in exceptional finery. His grey skin sported spike-like growths for his hair.

“This is supposedly from the first civilization to settle the galaxy,” he said, his jowls wobbling as he spoke. “It’s estimated that fifty thousand years ago, they just vanished for some unknown reason.”

Dalia offered him a polite smile and nodded. She and Dax moved to the next display that held something akin to a flintlock pistol. The man moved with them. His stinking breath started to fill the room. Dax stepped forward, crossing in front of Dalia and pointing at the weapon. Picking up on his intention, she joined him, crossing away from their guest.

“If you look right here, this is where an accelerant was added,” Dax said, ignoring the man. “Something of this design is typically a single shot and can take almost ten seconds to reload.”

The man crossed behind Dax. He sidled up next to Dalia once again, looking her up and down. Dax bit his cheek, fighting the urge to tell the man to leave her alone.

“This is my contribution to Tussanu. It took many fortunes and half a lifetime to retrieve the relics of our predecessors,” he mused, taking a sip of his drink. “I would love to show you more of what they did. I happen to have a beautiful private collection of fertility art made by this first race.”

Dax cleared his throat. He stepped away from the display. Focusing on his breathing, he tried to keep his heart rate level. Frustration bubbled from his gut like a lava pool. With every ounce of willpower, he managed to crack a smile.

“You’re a collector of ancient relics. That’s quite impressive. What else does Tussanu have you acquire for him?”

“I acquire nothing for him,” the man sneered.

He looked at Dax with a sense of disgust before turning back to Dalia.

“And what I collect are things of beauty.”

He reached out and stroked Dalia’s hair. Dax’s fist curled so tightly, it hurt. Before he could act, Dalia grabbed the man’s finger and bent it slightly backward.

“I may look refined, but I’m a fighter. You touch me again, and the next thing you’ll be collecting is broken fingers,” she said in perfect Valtukta.

Her voice was as sweet as honey, with a kind smile on her face. With a shove, she let him go. He held his finger, looking at her angrily before leaving the exhibit.

“Now I know why they don’t want weapons in here,” she said, wiping her hand on her dress.

“When’d you learn Valtukta?”

“Who do you think Mark’s study partner has been?” Dalia asked.

“Just when I think you can’t get any hotter,” Dax mused. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said with a wink and a smirk.

33

DIGGING

Dax stood in front of a plaque that read ‘The Keeper.’ He watched the subsequent moving painting depicting a battle with strange swords and shields. Something about it called to him. The click of heels caught his attention. He turned to see a woman with pale skin and dread-like tendrils pulled back. They draped down her pearlescent dress.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked.

She shifted her body, drawing his attention to the outfit made to draw attention.

“I find it intriguing,” Dax replied.

He placed his hands in his pockets and turned back to the painting.

“It gives a sense of strength and bravery,” he said, channeling the art professors he’d eaten with for so many years. “The way the artist used light to draw your attention to the central figure while not alienating the background is a work of genius. And the brush strokes evoke a sense of the primal need for conquest.”

He looked at the woman, raising an eyebrow. Her taut skin hardly showed a change in expression. The look in her aqua-blue eyes sent a tingle of warning and excitement down Dax’s spine.

“It’s not very gentlemanly to toy with a lady like that.”

“Who said I was a gentleman?”

“You seemed fairly attentive to the woman you came in with.”

Dax looked across the room. Dalia stood in front of a series of small sculptures. A handful of men surrounded her while they all chattered for her attention.

“I’m not her keeper; she’s not mine.”

“What a relief,” she sighed. “I’m Galandri.”

“Jaxson,” he said, offering her a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She reached out and gave his hand a shake.

“Pleasure’s mine.”

“Is this your first interaction with Tussanu?”

“Oh, no, my dear,” she giggled.

She placed a hand on his arm. Every nerve in his body erupted with heat. He ignored their screams to pull away.

“Well, this is my first. I was hoping I could find someone with a little more experience. Maybe that could be you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The edges of her lips curled. The wicked sparkle in her eye was what made him nervous.

“I’m always happy to be a guide to the younger generation.”

“How many people does Tussanu usually invite to these events?”

“It depends,” Galandri said.

She slid her ram into Dax’s. He stiffened his muscles to fight the instinct to pull away.

“On what?”

“On who has something he wants, or a line on something he doesn’t have.”

“And what do you have?”

“I procured a unique art piece from a desert. It’s the largest crystal of its kind that’s been found. I had a very skilled, VERY expensive team to investigate it. The temperatures needed to forge such a crystal exceeds by a magnitude of seven even the most powerful weapon in current existence.”

“What could’ve made such a thing?” Dax asked.

“They seem to think maybe a solar flare touched the planet when it was younger, creating such a piece. If that’s true, it’ll make the world I found one of the richest planets in the galaxy.”

“That is quite a tribute,” Dax mused. “Very impressive. And would something like that get you a private audience with him?”

“Oh, my sweet innocent child.” She reached up and stroked at his beard. “For someone like me, it’d merely take a request.”

“Would you be willing to do that for me?” Dax asked. “I would very much like to speak with him.”

“You will; we all will have that chance.”

“Without his guards,” Dax added. “It’d be nice to have an open and honest conversation without his personal guard breathing down my neck.”

She pursed her lips. With her free hand, she walked her fingers up his chest.

“Something like that doesn’t come cheap,” she teased.

“I’m aware everything comes with a price, and I’m willing to pay handsomely for it.”

“Oh, I don’t want money out of you.”

Her words made his skin crawl. He fought the urge to grimace and held his smile. He took her hand in his. Leaning forward, he leaned toward her ear.

“I promise you; you don’t know how to handle someone like me,” he whispered, forcing a flirtatious tone.

Galandri pulled back. Her cheeks flushed a light blue. Putting a hand to her mouth, she let out a giggle.

“I’ll go arrange that now. Then after, I’ll see you in the secret rooms hidden around here. You seem sharp enough to figure out which.”

She reached back and gave Dax’s butt a smack. With a provocative grunt, she walked away, swaying her hips before giving him one last glance over her shoulder while biting her lip. Once she disappeared around the corner, Dax’s entire body involuntarily shuddered.

“Who was that?” Sandrina asked, coming from the room’s second entrance.

“Hopefully no one I have to see ever again,” Dax replied. “I feel like I need to use a sandpaper luffa just to get her off me.”

“Think Mark’ll go for her?”

“Her face is so tight, she’s got to have any loose skin stapled to the back of her head,” Dax countered. “Mark’s a lot of things, but he does have standards. What have you found out?”

“That the vault is home to a series of stolen goods from across the galaxy.”

“I feel like that’s a gimme.”

“And that Tussanu’s so confident about its security that there aren’t any traps inside the vault.”

“Good to know.”

“Was the information that you got at least worth the need to remove the first few layers of skin?” Sandrina asked.

“She claimed she can set up a private meeting with Tussanu, no guards.”

“What’d she want for that?”

“Something that’ll make me want to peel all my skin off then jump into a baby pool of lemon juice after rolling around in a pile of salt.”

Sandrina grimaced.

“That bad?”

“The overconfidence of cougars always made me uncomfortable. Have you seen Mark?”

“He is making some crazy headway in the technology exhibit,” Sandrina said. “Last time I walked by, he had everyone captivated, talking about inverse algorithms and their use in firewall bypassing, or something. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.”

She looked over at Dalia, who had an ever-growing crowd of adorers.

“Think we should give her a hand?” Sandrina asked.

“If anyone needs help, it’ll be the first person to cross a line,” Dax countered. “She already almost broke one guy’s finger for touching her hair.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t swing at him.”

“I was ready to. She beat me to it. Keep your ear to the ground. I’ll see what Mark’s uncovered.”

She nodded, moving further into the art exhibition. Dax crossed the foyer. A drone hovered directly in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I have returned with your refill,” the drone announced.

“Thank you,” Dax said.

He took his second drink. The drone flew away, allowing him to press on. Dax reached the technology room. A burst of uproarious laughter filled the air. Dax peered in to see a dozen men and women circled around Mark. The young man was cracking jokes and telling stories of the OGRE scavenging adventures. He put a twist on them to maintain his cover.

Mark made eye contact with Dax. He gave a nod before wrapping up his story and dismissing himself, to the reluctance of the rest of the group. He breezed by Dax and moved to the main foyer. Dax turned and followed the young man back to the weapon exhibit where a portly alien iced an injured finger. With one look from Dax, he exited, leaving the room empty.

“Sandrina found out the inside of the vault doesn’t have any traps,” Dax whispered. “I think I’ve got a private meeting with Tussanu. Where are you at?”

Mark pulled up his sleeve to reveal a crude leather bracer with trinkets of technology attached to it.

“I was able to borrow a thing or two from my new friends and I put together this magical doohickey that has very limited capabilities.”

“Then what good will it do?” Dax asked.

“Glad you’re curious,” Mark mused.

He fidgeted with the device. Dax glanced at the door. No one was near the exhibit. Mark tapped a small button. A wave of static washed over Dax. Along the wall, a soft yellow glow of particles lined up from one display to another. It faded after a few seconds.

“A static electric field detector.”

“What good’s that going to do us?”

“Without our suit equipment? It’ll allow us to follow power cables because it’s going to take disabling at least one power source to compromise that vault.”

“Okay, I’m all in. Good job.”

Dax extended a closed fist. Mark gave him a bump. Just before their knuckles touched, a spark of static electricity jumped between their hands. The surge rushed through Dax’s knuckle bone like a bolt of lightning, stopping halfway up his forearm with a tingling sensation.

“Ow,” he muttered.

Mark chuckled and shook his hand.

“It does operate off static charges. I probably should’ve told you that first.”

“Or at least warned me before we touched.”

“Yeah, but the look on your face was worth it. I’m going to see what else I can find.”

“Okay, but don’t shock anyone else, please.”

“I’ll do my best not to.”

Mark was the first to leave the room. Before Dax could follow, the contributor re-entered.

“Do you know who I am?” he snarled.

“No, but the fact that you have to ask that tells me that you have an inflated sense of importance and are nowhere nearly as influential as you’d like to be,” Dax replied.

“You do not speak to me that way! I could have your head if I wanted to.”

Staring at the bully, Dax’s usually bright demeanor dropped. He squared up with the larger man and raised his chin, exposing his throat.

“Take your shot,” Dax growled. “But if you miss, know it’ll be the last one you take.”

The man hesitated. Dax took a step closer, just out of arm’s reach.

“I’ll tell you something. You touched my woman, and I don’t like that. Her nearly breaking your finger is the only reason you still have a hand. Interfere with me or my crew again, and you’ll get to know what your predecessor’s enemies felt when they were chopped down by that blade.”

Dax pointed at the sword behind glass.

“And trust me, that glass can’t keep me out.”

The man swallowed hard while Dax stared him down. He cleared his throat and stepped to the side.

“Smart man.”

Dax pushed past him and moved to the center of the room. He took a sip of his sweet champagne. A soft whine filled the room, bringing everyone to silence. The wall just above the library retracted to reveal an office surrounded by windows with a glass patio overlooking the foyer.

“Here we go,” Dax whispered.

Tussanu stood on the balcony with a drink in hand. Bleeze’s sister stood next to him, scanning the party. With a few quick steps, he obstructed her view from his face using the hand from Tussanu’s statue.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tussanu announced.

He lifted his glass. Everyone else in the room did the same. Dax followed their lead.

“I would like to raise a toast to each of you for coming today.”

34

TOAST

“I have been doing this job for a very long time,” Tussanu announced. “Longer than most of you have been around. Over my near century of work, and with the help of people like yourselves, I have acquired the largest collection of art, weapons, and history.”

Dax glanced around the room. Sandrina stood in a display room’s entryway, far enough out to appear like she was listening but not visible to Bleeze’s sister. Dalia positioned herself behind one of the larger races. She took a seat on a ledge to conceal herself. Mark stood directly under the glass balcony. He tried to inch his way just out of view while not drawing attention.

“Our conservation efforts have met an all-time high. Due to the rare animals you’ve captured or provided genetic samples for, we have three worlds with nearly extinct species thriving,” Tussanu continued. “By the end of the year, I’m hoping to have four.”

He paused for the obligatory wave of soft clapping. With a grin that’d make Oscar the Grouch seem clean, he waved his hands to quiet them. Everyone fell silent.

“I would like to announce that I am currently in talks to expand our operation and open new avenues of revenue for each, and every one of you. Your contributions today will prove the efficacy of this organization. And should today be successful, our position will grow exponentially,” Tussanu said, raising his glass. “As will our bank accounts. To you and becoming even more disgustingly rich!”

Another wave of clapping passed around the room. Dax followed everyone else’s lead and took a sip of his drink while clapping his free hand against his leg.

“I will start accepting contributions in my office. If the man who goes by the name of Jaxson would please get prepared, I will see you after wrapping up some business.”

Tussanu turned and walked into his office. One of his guards escorted Bleeze’s sister off the patio. Once inside, the glass turned opaque, hiding the collector from the rest of the party.

Dax’s heart started to race while he made his way to the front of the building. He stopped a few feet from the guard who was taking the offerings.

“I’m the one with the knife and the ship piece with the word Junkyard on it.” Dax said.

“We know. We’re very good at our jobs and this isn’t our first roundabout,” the guard replied. “Just go to the library. There will be a spiral staircase. Wait for him to call you up.”

Dax nodded. He turned and started back across the room. Dalia stood up and moved to his side, locking arms with him.

“It looks like you made an impression,” Dax said softly.

“I’m not the only one,” Dalia replied.

She nodded toward Galandri, who blew him a kiss.

“I would rather be stuck in a spaceship with a bunch of lonely men for half a decade than follow that one up,” Dax whispered.

He smiled and waved at her.

“Remind me what you did before we met?” Dalia teased.

“That was a different situation,” Dax chuckled.

“Sure it was.”

They reached the library. A closed-off stairwell was on the ground. Dax looked around the room. He made eye contact with Mark before stepping onto the first stair.

“What’d you manage to find out?” Dax whispered.

“Nothing Tussanu hasn’t confessed, himself. They just kept trying to get me to join them in their top-of-the-line private ships.”

“You want to lend your opinion on that speech?”

“I think he’s working on getting his hands on the AI to expand this little empire of his,” Dalia replied.

“I mean, it’s got to be the AI. It’s already in some form of use, and why else would he parade her around like that,” Dax said. “Now, I need you to do something for me.”

His words were still hushed, but his eyes were locked on Mark’s.

“I need you to make a bit of a distraction so no one sees me go up these stairs and listens in.”

“And what about your lookout?” Dalia asked.

Mark walked across the library. He fiddled with the sleeve that concealed his toy.

“You’re the lookout,” Dax replied. “If someone is coming, greet them loud enough for me to hear it.”

“Copy that,” Dalia replied.

A series of crashes and shattering glass filled the room. One of the drones spun out of control and into the library. A second flew into it, knocking the first into the fire before whirring back toward the entrance, adding another series of shattering glasses.

The ruckus drew everyone’s attention. Gasps rose from the crowd. Dax turned and quickly ascended the steps. Each step of his feet made less sound than when he’d lifted them off the ground.

In a few quick strides, he reached the top of the stairs. Tussanu’s glass door was translucent. Multiple shadows were cast against the door. Clenching his jaw, he inched forward, each blurry outline just as tall as the next and far slimmer than a Strudian’s build.

Practically lying on the stairs, he inched forward. Dax tilted his ear toward the door, concentrating on any noise that came through.

“I have a guy on it; he’s gone radio silent, but he’s the best,” Tussanu said. “Eh, he’s pretty good… alright, he’s decent at best, but he’s never let me down. We’ve already got the AI. I had it run a proof of concept, and it was successful. At least part of what you’re wanting is here. I’ll inspect it, make sure it’s the real thing, then give it to you for proof I kept up my end of the deal.”

A squeal of Tussanu’s chair cut the tension in the air like a knife.

“From there, I don’t want any of my people bothered by you again,” Tussanu said.

“If you fail me, you’re going to wish we never crossed paths,” a feminine voice replied.

The woman’s voice sent ice through Dax’s veins. His hands started to shake as the image of Mark being stabbed in the face played over and over again in his mind. In a quick and quiet scramble, he clambered down the stairwell. Dalia’s expression shifted from happy to see him to confused.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Bleeze’s sister isn’t his partner. Tylira is. He’s in bed with the Valtakuntera.”

Dalia’s eyes widened. Her face lost some of its luster. Dax reached out and touched her hand. She took a sharp breath, gave her head a quick shake and refocused on him.

“What’s the play?”

“They’re here for the AI. They’ve got to be. It’d be indispensable for coordinating their roving fleets.”

Dax’s eyes darted to the far side of the library. One of the shelves was pulled to the side, revealing a dumbwaiter. His knife and the piece of the Junkyard were loaded in.

“Find Mark and Sandrina. Get started on the job and don’t do anything that could draw more attention.”

Dalia nodded. Her lips pursed and eyes darted from left to right for a few seconds.

“At the rate Henuva moves, they should be here for backup within the next fifteen minutes,” she whispered.

“Good, but plan and behave as if they aren’t coming,” Dax replied. “It’s better to operate as if we don’t need help and have them come in, than leave a gap for them to fill and they not show up.”

“Where’d Bleeze’s sister go?” she asked.

“She was in the office before it went opaque,” Dax whispered. “Given she’s not a fan of the Valtakuntera and I didn’t hear her ripping into anyone in there…”

“And the fact that we didn’t see Tylira during the toast,” Dalia added.

“There’s got to be at least one other entrance inside. I’ll see what I can find while I’m in there.”

“Do you think going in there by yourself is the best idea? What if Tylira shows up?”

“My knife’s in the room,” Dax said. “I’ll have that. And something tells me if she shows up, we’ll both be going through that glass. In that case, you three can come out of the woodwork.”

Dax turned his attention to the fireplace. One of the event workers used a poker to pull out the charred remains of the drone.

“Something tells me a good burn will override her healing factor.”

“That’s way too small to fit a body.”

“You won’t need to fit her whole body, just her head. The fire’ll cook her brain. No brain, no threat.”

“Jaxson, I will see you now,” Tussanu called down the stairs.

“Be careful, keep your eyes open and don’t get caught doing anything that’ll draw attention,” Dax whispered.

“Same to you.”

Dalia turned and followed Mark’s path out of sight. Dax took a deep breath. He looked down at his hands. He clenched his fists, trying to get his hands to stop trembling before sliding them into his pockets.

“Well, this is singlehandedly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” he whispered to himself. “Let’s try not to get killed.”

Dax turned and ascended the steps. He heard Tussanu’s footfalls heading back to his desk echo down the spiral. At the top of the stairs, the office door was open.

“Please, come in.”

Dax stepped into the room. Its walls were sterile white, with a glass desk and a metal stand to present the collections on. The knife and piece of metal sat perfectly framed on that stand.

“Minimalist. I can appreciate your dedication to efficiency and lack of distraction,” Dax said.

He glanced at the outer wall. Silhouettes of Tussanu’s guards sat on the other side of the door.

“The only thing I have in here is my computer, and it only has access to software I use to work,” Tussanu replied. “I’ve even had to get rid of my personal communication device. I’d waste too much time scrolling.”

“I can relate to that on a painful level,” Dax said, fighting a smile. “When I’d work, I used to have to sit down then throw my personal communication device across the room. I had the willpower to stay put, so if I didn’t have it within arm’s reach, it wasn’t going to waste my time. But if there was an emergency, people could still be in touch with me.”

Dax looked at the shadows on the wall and motioned to them.

“But I also didn’t have a network of people to help handle those when they came up.”

“I have been blessed in my job to have an attentive staff when the inevitable happens. But they don’t always get it right every time,” Tussanu mused.

He leaned forward on his desk before glancing around his room.

“I guess I could put a chair in that corner to catch my device,” he muttered while glancing at Dax’s hands in his pockets. “I like that idea of sitting down but throwing the device out of reach. I may adopt that in my day-to-day, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means, I don’t own the rights to throwing your technology out of reach,” Dax said.

He took his hands out, gesturing while he talked.

“I just ask that if you find it useful, you spread the word.”

Tussanu sat back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests.

“Now, I would like a little clarification on something,” Tussanu said.

He looked at the offerings Dax brought him.

“How is it that I sent one of my men out to collect the crew and ship of this Junkyard, and yet you’re the one who shows up with part of its destroyed hull?”

“How do you know I’m not your man?” Dax asked.

Tussanu leaned to one side. An amused smirk spread across his lips before he motioned at Dax.

“Because you’re not an insufferable Bastet with a stupid name and an even dumber ship,” he replied. “I will say, I appreciate your taste in hairstyle, but I want you to tell me the truth, or I call my associates in here to throw you off this mountain top.”

35

OFFER

“Con Echt Sty?” Dax chuckled. “He was useless. He’s dead now, you know.”

“The fact that you’re here and he is not lends credence to that statement. Now, do you want to explain why my employee is dead, and a man I don’t know, of a race I don’t know, is standing before me?”

“Your man went after them on multiple fronts. The problem was, he tried to take them alive, let them know that he was coming. And if half the stories I heard about these Terrans are true, that’s the best way to get killed.”

“Then how’d he die?”

“He tried to plant a bomb in their cargo bay. He completely missed one of their robotic animals. I watched that creature take the bomb out of the Junkyard and put it in Con Echt Sty’s ship,” Dax explained. “My scans indicated it was a remote detonation bomb without a timer. He blew himself up.”

Tussanu sighed. He shook his head before rubbing his temples.

“And how’d you manage to get a leg up when so many others have failed?”

“Surprise,” Dax replied. “They were distracted by the explosion. I came down from above and behind them and opened fire. The guns on my ship aren’t the most powerful, so I targeted their engines. It caused feedback and blew their power generator.”

Dax motioned toward the piece of twisted metal.

“That was all that remained.”

“No bodies?”

“None that would be recognizable enough to add to your collection.”

Tussanu snickered. He stood up and walked over to the display. His hand traced the outer edges of the hull fragment. While his back was turned, Dax glanced around the room, seeing two different seams in the wall that didn’t line up with the others.

Dax’s attention was drawn back to the collector when he picked up the knife. Instantly, Dax’s mind ran a thousand miles per hour. Every scenario where Tussanu came at him with the blade and his reactions flashed through his head. He took a half step toward the balcony wall while letting his fingers trail at the tails of his coat, ready to wrap them around his arms.

“This is quite an interesting weapon,” Tussanu muttered.

He pulled the knife from its sheath and inspected it. He ran his finger across the blade, letting out a scrape before swiping at the air a few times.

“It’s a family heirloom,” Dax explained.

“You brought such a valuable weapon into my facility?” Tussanu asked. “Even though there’s a rule about no weapons?”

“For that, I do apologize. If I’m being honest, I’m not used to such civilized people. In the circles I’m forced to run in, I end up drawing my weapon more often than not.”

“I saw what your colleague did to one of my contributors. Maybe your concerns weren’t unfounded,” Tussanu said before turning around and pointing the knife at Dax. “While he does need to learn to keep his hands to himself, and may deserve more than one good stabbing, he’s the only person who’s uncovered technology from the objectively oldest extinct race in the galaxy.”

Tussanu approached Dax, who did his best to keep his eyes off the blade.

“I can’t have you running around killing him. I would usually execute someone for such a disregard of my rules, but you brought me a piece of the Junkyard. For that, you live.”

He flipped the knife around and offered its handle to Dax. He reached out for it, only for Tussanu to pull it back. A smirk spread across the collector’s lips before he shook his head.

“Do you really think I’d allow you to take this back?” he taunted. “For your disrespect, I am claiming this knife for myself. I think it’ll look good on my desk.”

Heat boiled in Dax’s gut. His muscles tightened while he stared the man down.

“That isn’t a problem for you, is it?” Tussanu asked.

“It’s only fair,” Dax replied.

Every word was a fight to stop from sounding sarcastic.

“Good. Now if you’d be so kind, I have a lot of people to meet.”

Tussanu motioned for the door. Dax took a few steps back. Once out of arm’s reach, he turned and walked toward the door. When he opened it, the collector cleared his throat.

“I collect rare things,” Tussanu said.

His Dal’no was nearly flawless. The chill that ran down Dax’s spine froze him in place. His heart slammed so hard in his chest, it blurred his vision for a second.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” Dax asked in Valtukta after taking a beat.

“I know you can understand me,” Tussanu added, still speaking Dalia’s native tongue. “The Dal’no are a rare race. Their forging is even rarer, and quite beautiful, I must say.”

Dax slowly turned to meet Tussanu’s steely gaze.

“You are a race I’ve never seen before and that Wontan that you entered with doesn’t bear the natural skin pigmentation that’s only visible under UV light,” Tussanu pointed at his eyes. “Or that my race can see naturally.”

“I’m sure that makes visiting hotels a nightmare,” Dax replied in Dal’no.

Tussanu set the knife down. He interlaced his fingers before leaning forward on his desk.

“Now there’s something exciting,” he whispered, his eyes wild. “Did you come here to kill me?”

“No. We came here to politely ask you to stop hunting us.”

“What you’ve done to the Valtakuntera is legendary. The blows you’ve dealt them across the galaxy is more than any military campaign.”

“Yeah, and do you want to know why we’ve hit them so hard?”

“Obviously.”

“Because they won’t leave us alone. At our core, we’re just scavengers. We want to be left alone to make a living on our own terms, with our own resources,” Dax said, motioning between them. “I think in that regard you and I are similar, if not the same.”

“I can respect that,” Tussanu mused. “I’ll make you a deal. I’m not so oblivious that I haven’t noticed your team scouting and gathering information about this facility. The intel doesn’t matter. This place is going to burn once we’re done here anyway.”

Dax’s eyes narrowed. He turned completely back to Tussanu.

“I’m known for making a deal or two. What have you got?”

“I’ll give you until I’m done accepting the offerings of my guests to do whatever you’ve got planned. I won’t alert my guards, but it’s on you if you set them off,” Tussanu explained. “If you can complete your mission without getting caught by my staff, I’ll let you go. No more hunting, no more pursuing, free as a bird. I’ll even return your knife.”

“And if we lose?”

“You Terrans will become part of my collection, with the Dal’no part of my personal display.”

In a flash, Dax crossed the room. He hurdled Tussanu’s desk, grabbed his knife and plunged it into the collector’s throat.

“What do you say?” Tussanu asked.

Snapping back to reality, he’d moved a half step toward his host.

“You have yourself a deal,” Dax said, moving back toward the door. “But I will warn you. If you go back on this deal, you will burn with this house.”

“I hold all the cards here. Do you really think threatening me is your smartest move?”

“It’s not a threat, Tussanu. It’s a promise.” Dax turned and started down the stairs. “Someone as connected as you must have a source in the Valtakuntera. Call them, ask them about what happens to those that don’t keep their word.”

Dax reached the bottom of the stairs. A line of the contributors had already started to form. Bypassing the line, he made his way to the main foyer. Dalia and Sandrina stood in front of Tussanu’s statue, while Mark was nowhere to be seen. He approached the women, grabbing a drink on the way. He threw the whole thing back, trying to steady the growing sensation of a planet closing in on him.

“I take it, it didn’t go well?” Sandrina asked.

“Worse,” Dax replied.

“Was Tylira in there?” Dalia asked.

“No, but I did see two hidden doors in his office. But that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Dalia asked.

“He knows.”

“How’d he find out?” Sandrina asked. “We need to go!”

Dax grabbed her forearm and shook his head.

“He made us the second we stepped foot in this building,” Dax whispered. “His guards haven’t made us and I’m pretty sure Tylira hasn’t either.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sandrina asked.

“Do you really think that woman has the impulse control not to attack us on sight?” Dalia asked.

“We don’t have time for the back and forth,” Dax interrupted. “Tussanu is giving us until he’s done with his accepting of gifts to do what we came here to do. Then he’s hitting us with everything he’s got.”

Mark emerged from the art exhibit. He shook his hand out while a grimace contorted his face.

“You okay?” Dax asked.

“Yeah, I just touched the wall and got a shock. On the plus side, I did find a power line that runs from downstairs. It branched off in two directions. One carried a lot more current than the other.”

Sandrina looked at the guarded stairwell.

“What about the safe?”

“There are three more guards at the bottom of those stairs. We’re not getting down there without violence. But that’s not a bad thing.”

He waved for them to follow. They moved into the room with the painting Dax had previously admired. With another quick scan, he noticed no guards were able to see them.

“I fail to see how it’s a good thing,” Sandrina said.

“When I created that distraction, I heard one of the guards say to check the vault.”

“That’s usually protocol when you’re in security,” Dax replied.

“Why would one of the guards who’s already guarding the literal vault door tell someone else to check it? He’s already there and securing it.”

Curiosity swirled to life inside Dax while Mark rolled up his sleeve. Dax watched closely while the young man fidgeted with his thrown-together device. He activated it, drawing at the particles to a hidden power line that ran behind the picture.

“Is it just me, or does that seem like enough juice to maybe power the real vault door?” Mark asked.

“It’s likely,” Sandrina said.

She started to inspect the sides of the painting. With a curious frown and a nod, she ran her fingers across its frame.

“I’m seeing a crease behind… well, that’s interesting.”

She stood as tall as she could before turning toward Dalia.

“Get over here and give me a hand.”

Dax changed his attention to the entryway, watching for guards. Most of them escorted the rest of the guests to the library. Dalia gave Sandrina a boost. The Bastet shoved her nail into the top corner of the frame. A soft click filled the room as the frame came away from the wall.

“No way,” Mark whispered. “I was actually right.”

“We haven’t confirmed the second safe yet,” Dax replied.

He moved to the art piece and gently pulled the frame away from the wall.

“Let’s hold off on calling it until we do. I’ll take point. Sandrina, you follow up the rear.”

She nodded. Dax stepped into a narrow corridor that quickly turned to the right. Hunching over, he quietly inched his way forward, listening for any movement ahead. The buzz of Mark’s tool filled the room, sending the hair on the back of Dax’s neck standing up. The power cable under their feet lit up and turned, following the path.

After the turn, the room opened up, with chairs clearly meant for guards. A stairwell sat directly across from them. In one of the chairs sat Galandri, wearing next to nothing while lounging back.

“I knew you were sharp,” she mused. “And you brought a little friend. Bold of you to think I’d go for it.”

“I didn’t know you were in here,” Dax said. “And that’s going to be a pass for me.”

Dalia and Sandrina entered. Dalia stifled a snicker. Dax leaned over and grabbed the dress on the floor before tossing it to his Battle Bonded.

“Please make sure she can’t call for help or escape. And be careful; she’s what some would call aggressively sexy,” Dax said. “Mark and I will scout ahead.”

Before the woman could protest, Dalia and Sandrina were on top of her, binding and gagging her in place. Dax and Mark reached the top of a stairwell. At the bottom sat a solid white door.

“You’re not going for that?” Mark asked.

“It seems like both a bad idea and a bad time,” Dax replied.

“Can’t blame you there.”

36

VAULT

The muffled grunts of an angry woman fell silent against the secret passage. Dalia and Sandrina joined Dax and Mark at the bottom of the stairs. Dax looked at his team for confirmation. They nodded that they were ready. Grabbing the door, he pushed it open and peered through the crack.

One of Tussanu’s guards walked down past the door with the gnarled piece of the Junkyard. In the background, Dax watched the false vault door slowly close. With a finger to his lips, he mouthed there was at least one guard.

Carefully opening the door, Dax snuck into the next hallway just in time to see the man with the tribute make a turn.

“Deactivate shield one,” the guard’s voice echoed.

“Shield one deactivated,” a second called out.

“Enter code for the door.”

A series of clicks followed the order. Dax rushed forward. Dalia shoved past Mark, making surprisingly little noise with her heels. As they reached the turn, a series of heavy clunks filled the air, followed by the unmistakable groan of metal.

Dax peered around the corner. A Jarog sat at the vault door controls, opening the door. The other stood patiently, waiting for it to open. He pulled back to cover and looked up to Dalia.

“We’ve got two,” he whispered. “I’ll take the one on the left, you go for the one on the right.”

“Copy.”

Dalia put one hand on the wall for balance as she took off one high heel. With her other foot flat on the floor, she shifted, removing the other, offering him a thumbs-up. Dax crouched, flexing the muscles in his legs. He took a few deep breaths. Once the clang of the safe door opening sounded, he motioned for them to go.

In the blink of an eye, he rounded the corner with Dalia right behind him. The Jarog looked up. His eyes widened and fronds rose. Dax threw himself at the guard. He drew back, ready to strike while flying through the air.

A tingle hit the back of Dax’s mind. He felt fear try to grab hold. Pushing it out, he threw his balled-up fist. It made contact before his body did. The Jarog’s head whipped to one side. In a muffled impact, they both crashed to the ground.

Before he could register the pain from bouncing off a wall, Dax was on his knees. His fist was raised, ready for another blow. The tingle in his head vanished. The Jarog lay unconscious below him.

A guttural gasp caught his attention. Dalia held the other guard off the ground in a headlock. Sandrina dashed across the floor and dove just as the Junkyard piece fell from the Galio’s hands. She caught it while the man fell limp.

Dax moved to his feet and picked up his guard while Mark broke cover. The four-foot thick steel door stood wide open for them to waltz through. On the opposite side sat a thrumming wall of orange light.

“Shut off the shield,” Mark called back.

Dax looked at the controls. They were blank. Dax pursed his lips and waved his hand over the screen. It remained dark. He leaned to one side, letting the light refract off it. An even layer of oil from the Jarog’s hands covered the device.

“Not going to be able to do it,” Dax said. “What about your staff?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it,” Mark replied. “I may have forgotten to tell you that the EMP will drain most of its power.”

Sandrina walked through the safe door. She approached the shield and pressed the hunk of metal against it. Sparks flew while the end almost instantly grew red hot. She pulled it back.

“You’re going to have to,” she said, showing him the melted steel. “Because I’m sure walking through that will destroy this dress.”

Dalia threw her unconscious guard over her shoulder before stepping past the vault door barrier. Dax followed closely behind. With all three staring at Mark, he grumbled.

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

“I thought you planted it for this purpose,” Dax said.

“That’s what I told you. I was hoping to hack the system to get through, but I wasn’t sure if I could, so I created the backup, which is what I told you.”

Mark removed the silver dollar-sized disk from his pocket, pressing the center. A low hum emerged from beyond the shield. The lights flickered for several seconds before going out completely, leaving only the shield still running.

“Must be on a backup generat…” Mark started.

Before he could finish, the wall fell. Everyone crossed the threshold into a pitch-black room.

“Well, we’ve officially broken into the most secure vault in the galaxy,” Sandrina pointed out.

“No, we didn’t,” Mark countered. “The first shield and door were open. We just walked through. It’s like bragging that you entered someone’s house when they held their door for you, and you didn’t trip on the welcome mat. Not exactly a feat to celebrate.”

A soft, green glow appeared a few hundred feet ahead. The sound of Mark shuffling forward reverberated off what seemed like a series of endless walls.

“That’s my staff,” Mark said.

A loud crash followed by a series of thuds filled the darkness. Mark let out an agonized groan.

“Mark, you still alive?” Dax asked.

“No,” he whimpered.

“I thought you could see in the dark,” Dalia said.

“There’s a difference between low light and no light. And there needs to be an adrenaline rush to get enough blood to that part of our eye to activate it,” Dax explained.

“The crystal’s giving off low light,” Sandrina pointed out.

“And the pain is giving me the adrenaline rush,” Mark groaned. “This place is impressively full.”

More shuffling cut through the dark while Mark made his way forward. After a few moments, the pulsing crystal moved. Just as it did, the lights flashed back on. Dax flinched at the pain of his eyes readjusting. The shield flickered in place behind them.

“Hindsight being twenty-twenty, we probably should’ve left someone out there,” Sandrina pointed out.

“They’re just starting with the gifts. I’m sure that shield’s going to come down more than once while we’re in here,” Dalia pointed out.

Dax looked around the enormous cave system that was repurposed into a vault. Small ships, stands holding hundreds of weapons, statues and countless other artifacts filled the room. Mark activated his staff before summoning his hologram tracker.

“If the AI’s here, it’s going to be in this room,” Mark said.

A map of the room appeared, accompanied by a long, red line.

“Or everywhere in here.”

“Should we split up?” Sandrina asked.

“Absolutely not,” Dax countered.

“If he’s in bed with the Valtakuntera, there’s a real chance this is a trap,” Dalia added.

“Which means we need to arm up first,” Dax suggested.

Dalia walked over to a stand that held a war hammer larger than her axe. She set down her unconscious guard, picked up the weapon and rested it on her shoulder.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Better than the day I met you,” Dax replied.

Sandrina inspected a twin pair of guns behind a glass cube. Mark activated his little device, showing no power ran to it. She pulled the glass off and picked up the sub-machine guns.

Dax set his guard down before locating and picking up one of the predecessor race’s spears. The shaft was made of the same material as the head. It thrummed with energy in his grasp.

“We’ll go to the center and work our way out,” Dax offered.

“And when the guards wake up?” Mark asked.

“They’re trapped in here just like us. It’ll benefit them to help us escape. Or we knock them out again.”

Dax walked around a large, black stone that had a dozen different languages carved into it. He slowed to a stop. The cave dipped down in the formation of a small bowl. At its center stood a mass of crystals three times his height and even wider.

“How much do you think that’s worth?” Dax asked.

Mark let out a whistle.

“Enough we could probably pay the Valtakuntera to leave us alone,” Mark replied.

He consulted his staff.

“It looks like there’s a panel the AI’s signature moves through over there; I’m going to check it out.”

Mark pressed forward. Dax looked over at Dalia. She joined his side. Both walked toward the ultra-refined stone while Sandrina checked out her guns.

“Where do you think they found it?” Dalia asked.

Dax’s mind flashed back to Galandri. He looked around the vault, unable to see any other visible crystals of similar size.

“Oh, nuts,” he muttered.

Mark approached the tag attached to the shimmering clump.

“Plasma-kissed sand,” he said before looking back at Dax. “It says it was made by a Galandri. Who’s she?”

“The woman you met in that secret corridor,” Dax replied. “That’s her contribution.”

Mark held his staff up to it and initiated a scan. Dax took a half step back before nervously glancing at the open vault door.

“What’s wrong?” Dalia asked.

“I’m pretty sure that’s something of…”

“Seriously?” Mark screeched. “No, that overly thirsty cougar didn’t make this. This was all me. It’s got remnants of Dal’no plasma in it. This was my shot that killed the queen before Henuva caught up to us.”

“Yeah, that is your creation. And the woman who found it thinks it’s naturally formed,” Dax explained.

“Well, it’s mine, I made this sculpture of sand, plasma and bug guts. I’m not letting someone like that take credit for my work.”

“That’s not the mission,” Sandrina called down.

“And we can’t get this out of here, even if it was,” Dalia added.

“Oh no, you don’t understand, I’m not taking this thing with us. I’m going to rig it to blow. If I can’t have it, no one can,” Mark hissed.

“You won’t need to worry about that,” a woman called out.

Everyone turned toward a sculpture to see three arms, plus one robotic one extended, showing empty hands. Dax’s grip tightened around his spear. Sparks jumped from its head.

“Don’t shoot; I’m not an enemy to you.” Bleeze’s sister stepped out from her cover. “I’m assuming my brother sent you?”

“He tacked on saving your skin, but we were already on our way,” Dax replied, keeping his spear pointed at her. “But that also depends. Do you want to be rescued, or are you about to try and set off an alarm?”

She looked around and inched forward.

“I need to get out of here. Tussanu said he’d kill my team using my own creation if I didn’t stay here with him.”

“Yeah, he already tried that,” Dalia said. “Apparently, more than half survived because of the fault engineered into them. Our AI was able to help fight him off.”

“Your AI?” she asked.

“Yep, the Junkyard’s a real…” Mark started.

He was cut off by an explosion that atomized a chunk of the crystal formation.

“I was hoping you’d have shown up later,” Tylira shouted from a hidden walkway.

She loaded another missile into her launcher and shouldered it.

“That’s okay, I’ve got enough explosives to get the job done.”

With a twitch of her fingers, she let another missile loose.

37

COLLECTION

Dax spun in mid-air; his arms wrapped around Mark, tackling him behind cover. The explosion ripped through the cave, shattering what was left of the crystalized sand. Hitting the ground behind a stone display, he released Mark, who quickly rolled into a sitting position against the rock.

“Come on,” he screeched. “My first self-expression in an artistic format and you’ve got to blow it up?”

“I thought pointing Tussanu your way would flush you out,” Tylira taunted. “I didn’t expect it to be this quickly.”

The clatter of her weapon cut through the nearly deafening ringing in Dax’s ears. He looked through the smoke to see Dalia grab Bleeze’s sister and move from a flimsy display to actual cover.

“Glad to surpass expectations,” Dax shouted back.

He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it until the ringing stopped.

“Now why don’t you come down here and take us on, face to face?”

Sandrina popped up from behind a ball of steel. Raising both submachine guns, she opened fire in three-round bursts. Dax grabbed his spear with both hands and pushed off the ground. His hands rotated along the shaft.

Static encompassed him. He felt the hair on his body stand on end while sparks jumped to life along the spearhead. A crackle of energy erupted from the weapon and flew into the ceiling.

Rock exploded, sending clumps of stone raining toward them. Dax grabbed Mark, and with a powerful yank, slid him across the floor to more cover. He dove out of the way as the stones collided with the ground.

“I always wondered where the technology for those insufferable staffs came from,” Tylira snarled.

Dax looked up to see her pulling out a plasma rifle. His heart skipped a beat when she took aim at his head. With a roll, he narrowly dodged the first shot. The heat seared his face. With a sharp inhale, he was relieved he didn’t smell any burning hair.

“I’m not losing another eyebrow to the shenanigans of your kind!” Dax roared.

“I plan to take a little more off than an eyebrow.”

Dax clambered to one knee. He moved his head to the left just as another plasma bolt flew past. He pointed the spear toward Tylira and twisted his hands. It kicked as another bolt of electricity surged toward her.

The assassin jumped from her perch with her rifle, dodging the shot. Sparks flew from between Dax’s hands. The spear heated up while the energy fizzled out. His fingers loosened from the overheated weapon, sending it clattering to the ground.

“Mark, get to the sister and locate that AI. We’ll hold her off,” Dax barked.

“Copy,” Mark said, scrambling across the floor.

“Dalia, I need you up here.”

“On it,” the Dal’no replied.

Tylira broke cover to shoot, only to be met with a hail of bullets from Sandrina. Dalia vaulted her cover and rushed forward before sliding behind the stand next to Dax. He picked up the now-cooled spear. Pointing it at Tylira’s position, he twisted his hands. Nothing happened.

“Well, at least one of the shots was worth something,” he grumbled, moving next to his Battle Bonded.

Mark made it to their target and disappeared as well. Tylira opened fire on all three positions. Dax’s eyes darted around the vault. A stalactite stretched from the ceiling, almost all the way to the floor. Under it sat a highly polished shield.

He leaned back against the stand. Picking up a baseball-sized stone, he offered it to Dalia.

“How fast do you think you could throw this?”

“If she didn’t heal like you, fast enough to end this,” she replied, taking the rock.

“Okay, pick these up.” Dax motioned to the debris around him. “And cover Sandrina when she reloads by throwing them as hard as you can. I think I’ve found a way to close the distance and give you a chance to use that hammer.”

“It’ll be good to swing something again.”

Dax tapped his translator before running his finger along its edge. He felt it vibrate while it connected with the other devices.

“Mark, any heat signatures other than ours in here?” he asked.

“I’m not seeing any,” Mark replied. “But I won’t be able to run a heat signature scan and tackle the AI at the same time.”

“Copy that. Priority is the AI. Sandrina, are you ready?”

“Reloaded. I only have one magazine for each gun left.”

Plasma splashed over the edge of Dax and Dalia’s cover. He pulled his coat up his back and flung it over his Battle Bonded, protecting her from the superheated gas.

“I’ll draw her fire. Dalia, aim for the heat sink. Hit that and we’ve got our edge.”

She set down the hammer and picked up a second baseball-sized stone.

“Sandrina, you ready?”

“I am,” she replied.

Dax leaned forward. He peered around the edge of the stand to see Tylira without her armor firing her rifle wildly. He gripped his spear as tightly as he could before shoving himself forward with all his might.

Tylira let out a defiant screech. She turned to shoot at Dax, only for the submachine gun fire to force her movements, throwing each shot off target. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the death squad leader drop her brace hand, pull a pistol and start shooting at Sandrina.

Her subsequent shots grew closer to their target. One seared a hole through the tails of his jacket. With a grunt from Dalia and a whistle from her rock, a hollow thud from impact with Tylira’s chest sounded over the gunfire.

With a pained grunt, the Valtukta was thrown to the ground. Without incoming fire, Dax sped up, grabbing the shield from its stand with his free hand. He flipped it around before tossing it in the air and sliding his arm through the straps on its back.

Dax pulled the round, polished shield in front of him. He hunched forward, bracing it with his shoulder, covering himself from thigh to neck. Dalia continued to hurl rocks on Tylira’s position while Sandrina aimed with only one of her submachine guns.

His heart raced while he pushed forward. The adrenaline dump drew unseen colors and contrasts out of the cave walls around them. Movement he otherwise wouldn’t have seen caught his attention. Dax pointed his spear at it.

“High right,” he barked.

Dalia threw one of her rocks where he was pointing. It hit with a muted impact followed by a grunt and a Valtukta in camo falling from his perch to the cave ground. Sandrina immediately put three bullets in him.

With the break in attack, Tylira popped back up and unloaded on Dalia’s and Sandrina’s positions this time. Dax sprinted toward her, letting out a primal roar. A look of shock flashed across her face at how close he’d gotten.

Dax ducked behind the shield while both guns were turned toward him. The metal barrier twitched with each plasma shot that splashed off its mirrored surface. Sprinting up a line of stands, he leapt into the air, curling himself into as much of a ball as he could. Drawing back the spear, he listened while the sounds of her gunfire grew louder.

A metallic grind filled the air once he closed in on her. A shot struck the ground directly under Dax. He put his feet down while throwing his left arm to the side and striking with his spear.

“THIS,” he screamed.

The rifle flew out of her hand, clattering to the ground while she raised her pistol to deflect the spear above her head. Landing, Dax used his momentum to take advantage of her leaving her body open.

“IS.”

With his left foot firmly in the ground, he kicked forward, driving his heel into Tylira’s chest. He felt a rib give way under his boot and she flew backward and crashed into the wall with a bone-chilling crack.

“SPARTA!”

Dax pulled his shield back in front of him while resting the spear on its edge. The second Tylira hit the ground, she was on her knees. Pulling daggers from her outfit, she flung them at him. He ducked behind the shield for them to harmlessly bounce off.

He thrust his spear toward her but she knocked it to the side, causing it to ram into the wall. He ignored the pins and needles that overtook his hand after the tremors permeated his weapon. Tylira hit the side of the spear. It kicked to the side. He gripped it, barely keeping it in hand.

Tylira grabbed the spear’s shaft with both hands. Dax tried to fight her. She locked the weapon over his shield and closed the distance, giving him no leverage to strike from behind his barrier. She locked eyes with him, less than a foot away. A wicked, blood-filled smile rippled across her mouth.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” she snarled.

“All the better to defeat you with, my dear.”

Dax pushed, trying to drive her back. She pushed back, holding firm. Clenching his teeth, he glanced down before looking back at his interlocked enemy.

“You’ve gotten stronger too.”

“I’m perfecting the experiments Henuva failed at with you.”

Sandrina fired a few more times. Three more bodies fell from the cave above them before her gun clicked.

“Looks like she’s out,” Tylira sneered. “And you don’t have the firepower to stop what’s coming.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve got the mind to beat you.”

Dax took a step back and yanked his spear and shield toward him and to the ground. Tylira stumbled; she lost her grip but caught herself on her hands and knees. He aimed the edge of his shield at the back of her neck and brought it down as hard as he could. Just before impact, a sharp pain shot through his thigh, buckling his knee.

His shield hit the ground, bending the metal and chipping away stone. Tylira looked at him with a sadistic grin before jabbing at him with a dagger. Dax leaned to the side, narrowly dodging the stab. In the background, Dalia stood on a display, ripping her dress into a mini skirt before charging with her hammer at full speed.

Tylira turned her dagger and stabbed at Dax’s face. He brought his shield up, striking her forearm, knocking the weapon away. With his spear, he shoved off the ground and stepped backward. A bolt of pain surged through his leg, making him stagger. He kept his eyes on his opponent, readying his shield and pointing his spear at her once again.

Dax took a stab, and she deflected it. He pulled back, not giving her an opportunity to grapple him again. Dalia launched herself at the Valtukta. Her hammer was held high over her head while a primal roar bellowed from her throat. Tylira’s eyes widened. She dropped one shoulder and rolled to the side.

Dalia’s hammer crashed into the floor, shattering stone like it was glass. In that split second, Dax looked down to see a knife sticking out of his leg. He pulled it out and stabbed at the retreating Valtukta.

Ducking, he dodged Dalia’s hammer as she wound up for another swing. Tylira rolled onto her back and kicked her feet into the air, narrowly dodging the attack. The momentum pulled her back to her feet.

With a flick of her wrist, she threw her dagger at Dalia. Dax jumped in the way, blocking it with his shield. Tylira drew two more knives from her uniform, spinning her left one into a reverse grip.

“How many of those do you have?” Dax asked.

“Where are you pulling them from?” Dalia added. “Never mind, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

38

DUEL

Dax stayed in front of Dalia, his shield up as he inched toward Tylira. The pain in his leg gradually subsided. Every nerve burned and muscle ached in anticipation of the next move. Dalia’s warm breath ran down his neck while the shadow of her hammer loomed over him.

He gave Tylira a few prodding jabs with his spear. She’d deflect it with her off hand and counter with a cautious slice of her dagger. He’d block it. Neither opening the other, or themselves, up to a useful attack.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sandrina frantically looking for another weapon to use. Mark and Bleeze’s sister were still concealed, the soft flash of Mark’s staff being the only thing giving them away.

“You both are fools for trying to continue this fight,” Tylira taunted. “Neither of you are skilled enough to kill me.”

“We’re more than capable,” Dalia snarled.

“Yeah, it’s just every time we get close, you pull a General Grievous and run away when you know you can’t win,” Dax countered. “That makes you a coward.”

Rage flared across her face. She surged toward Dax so fast, she was a blur. Her offhand knife hooked over the lip of his shield, pulling it down while her primary knocked the spear tip away.

Before she could land a blow, the pommel of Dalia’s Warhammer spun upward. It caught Tylira under the chin. Her jaw snapped shut, accompanied by a sickening crunch. Following through, the Dal’no flung their attacker nearly a dozen yards backward.

Tylira slid to a stop, spitting out shards of teeth and blood. As she wiped her mouth, Dax watched her closely, pulling his shield and spear back to a defensive stance.

“She’s going to aim for our feet,” Dalia whispered. “When you drop your shield, she’ll aim for your chest.”

“That’s what I’d do,” Dax replied. “You ready?”

“Always.”

The Valtukta flung her weapons. Dax dropped his shield to the ground. Her daggers bounced off the barrier where his feet were. Dalia dropped the head of her hammer in front of Dax, catching two more.

“You’re getting predictable,” Dalia taunted.

“That’s because she only has one move when she’s cornered,” Dax sneered. “Throw everything she’s got then run away. Ba-KAK!”

“What was that?” Dalia asked.

“It was a chicken, because she’s chicken.”

“I don’t know that animal.”

“Will you two shut up!” Tylira roared.

“Dax, on your three, high,” Sandrina shouted.

Dax looked up, to his right movement caught his eye.

“I got you,” Dalia said.

She moved between Dax and Tylira. With a twirl, he changed his grip on his spear. Drawing back, he flung it at the moving object just as it stood up and aimed a rifle at him.

Dax’s spear sailed clean through the Valtukta. It embedded itself into the rock wall behind, holding the limp death squad member in place. Tylira let out a screech. She rushed Dalia, who wound up for another swing of her hammer.

A glint of light caught Dax’s eye. The Valtukta pulled a long dagger from her sleeve. Dax’s heart skipped a beat. Even with her speed, Dalia’s heart was wide open. With every ounce of his strength and speed, he spun, flinging his left arm around Dalia. He opened his hand, letting the shield fly off.

In a blur of silver, it collided with Tylira’s collarbone. Knocking her back, the shield hit the ground. With a growl, she threw her last weapon halfheartedly. Dalia knocked it out of the air with hers.

“Cap makes getting it to bounce back look so easy,” Dax muttered, moving to Dalia’s side.

“Are you going to surrender yet?” Dalia asked.

“Dinner date says she runs,” Dax replied.

Sandrina sprinted toward Tylira’s weapons. Retrieving them, she joined Dax, handing him the pistol. They both aimed them at the Valtukta.

“I wouldn’t shoot those,” Tylira warned. “They’re coded to my handprint. If you pull that trigger, they’ll both go off and kill all three of you.”

Sandrina glanced at Dax. He inspected the pistol. It looked ordinary to him. Finding the heat sink, he struck it, causing it to spark before throwing it away.

“You don’t really believe her, do you?” Sandrina asked.

“It could go either way, but at least now, if she gets her hand on the pistol, it’s blowing up on her too,” Dax replied.

He turned and struck the delicate part of Sandrina’s rifle, making it spark as well.

“Now she doesn’t have any weapons, she’s outnumbered, and more or less cornered because we’re all locked in here.”

“I’m not the outnumbered one.” Tylira grinned. “You may get a lucky hit in and kill me, but you’re not escaping from my team.”

At her whistle, a dozen more Valtukta stood up from their cover above them, their rifles aimed at Sandrina, Dalia and Dax.

“Mark, you want to help with this a little?” Dax called out.

“I just unshackled the AI from Tussanu’s binding programs. If I let it go now, we lose it,” Mark countered.

“It wasn’t Tussanu’s program; it was Tylira’s,” Dax countered. “And if you don’t give us a hand, we’re all dead.”

“I don’t have enough juice to kill them all, just stun them,” Mark said.

Tylira gave another wicked grin, this time revealing a row of shattered teeth.

“That’s good enough for me,” she hissed.

“We kill her, we take control of her squad,” Sandrina whispered.

“That’s good enough for me,” Dax said. “Do it.”

With a frustrated grunt, Mark raised his staff from his hiding position and slammed its base into the ground. A series of green bursts of light erupted from the crystal before going dark. Each round struck a death squad member, knocking them out.

Dax leaned over. He picked up the dagger Tylira had thrown at Dalia and handed it to Sandrina. Stepping forward, he grabbed the shield and slid it back onto his arm. Tylira took a few steps back; her eyes darted across all three.

“I’m cornered,” she snarled. “Blow the wall.”

A series of explosions rippled through the cave as a far wall erupted inward, accompanied by a cloud of dust. Tylira turned to run away. Dax spun and flung his shield at her. With a half-turn, she snatched it out of the air and slid it onto her own arm.

“You’re not Bucky,” Dax shouted.

Sandrina threw the knife, only to have it blocked by the worn piece of defensive equipment. Dalia stepped forward. She drew her hammer back above her head and flung it with all her might. It spun through the air, striking Tylira in the back.

With a pained grunt, she fell forward before sliding to a stop under the stalactite that hovered over where the shield once was.

“I got it!” Mark shouted.

He stood up, lowering his staff. Dax watched in horror and amazement as a beam of light erupted from Mark’s cybernetic eye. It cut through the top of the rock. He didn’t slice all the way through, but enough to compromise its strength. A series of cracks rumbled through the stone.

Tylira scrambled to her feet. The gargantuan stalactite broke free. Its tip crushed the stand beneath it like an empty soda can. The Valtukta scrambled, barely dodging the initial fall. She rushed down the decline toward the hole in the wall where a handful of her men rushed in to cover her escape.

Dax tackled Dalia to the ground while Sandrina hid behind a stand. Purple bolts of plasma ripped through the vault in every direction. He pulled Dalia to cover while watching the enormous rock spike start to fall toward the opening.

“A little faster,” he growled. “A little faster.”

With a violent tremor, the stalactite crashed into the wall before slamming into the ground, crushing the death squad that had entered the cave.

“Don’t let her get away,” Dalia roared.

The Dal’no charged after Tylira, picking up her hammer. Dax grabbed the Valtukta’s knives and rushed after his Battle Bonded. Sandrina was close behind.

“Mark, move your feet!” Dax shouted.

“Already on it,” the young man replied.

He held their target’s hand, charging for the opening before the chaos could calm. Dax leapt onto the fallen rock. Running up its length, his eyes darted on either side for any signs of movement.

One of the death squad that survived tried to get up. Dalia swung her hammer, collapsing his helmet, sending the Valtukta’s limp body to the ground. With a second swing, she smashed a second survivor before rushing through the hole they’d made.

Dax caught up to Dalia. He folded his lower lip under and let out a whistle. She threw a thumbs-up. Reaching the fallen stone’s top, he lunged toward the smoking hole below. Landing in front of Dalia, he rolled, raising the knives. He looked around a platform hidden on the mountain’s backside.

An engine thundered while a ship flew away. With a defiant roar, he threw the daggers as hard as he could. They fell short, tumbling into the ravine below.

“You’re such a chicken! I hope the Colonel gets his hands on you if I don’t!” he screamed.

A series of rapid rumbles tore across the mountain. Sparks flew off Tylira’s ship as Jun broke out of the cloud cover. She fired, trying to take out their opponent’s vessel. Bullets dropped straight toward the ground after bouncing harmlessly off the fleeing ship.

Dalia emerged, her weapon ready, then stopped in her tracks. Mark and Sandrina slid onto the platform. Mark let out a retching sound. Dalia’s attention moved from Tylira’s ship. Five death squad members lay dead around Kane and Henuva. Their armor was dented and Henuva was missing one of his helmet’s eye lenses.

“What happened to you?” Sandrina asked.

“Tried to defuse a bomb.” Kane chuckled. “Henuva cut the wrong wire.”

“I hadn’t cut the wire yet; they blew it,” Henuva countered.

He limped over to one of the bodies. Leaning down, he stuck his fingers into a hole in the armor.

“Had to use something I wanted to save, but they got the drop on us, so I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

Henuva yanked a small piece of metal from the body, lifting it up. Dax approached. Inspecting it, he grimaced.

“Is that your toe?” Dax asked.

“Pinky toe. Figured if I had to get cybernetic, I’d better weaponize them,” Henuva explained. “And no one’s going to expect toe missiles when they’re holding you hostage.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Mark replied.

He turned, revealing a lightly burned left side of his face that was already healing. He pointed at his now lazy eye.

“Super enhanced laser projector. Hurts like you won’t believe but packs a punch.”

“Which was beyond impressive,” Dalia said.

Kane walked back a few paces to a body on its side. He grabbed the shoulder and turned the corpse to its back. Tussanu lay motionless, his eyes open and blank and the Dal’no dagger buried to its handle in his chest.

“You’ve really got to stop losing this,” Kane said.

He ripped the knife free and cleaned it on the collector’s clothes before pillaging the sheath from his hip.

“Tylira got to him before he could take off,” Henuva added. “Did you get what we came here for?”

“Yes and no,” Mark said, motioning to Bleeze’s sister. “But the AI escaped.”

“You’re not going to find it unless it wants to be found,” she added. “But now that he no longer has his pull, I hope it won’t be aggressive.”

Their ship circled back, landing on the platform. At closer inspection, bullet holes and plasma burns riddled the outside of the ship. Portions of its armor were cracked, revealing the re-entry heat shield underneath. The ramp lowered itself. Dax approached Kane and took his knife back. He looked at Tussanu’s body.

“At least we took a piece off the board before Tylira could use him,” Dax said.

“And all because the person he hired to hunt us was a colossal moron,” Kane added.

39

FLEE

Dax escorted Bleeze’s sister to the ship. She climbed in, followed by a limping Henuva with his cybernetic toes in hand. Kane retracted his helmet. Dried blood pooled at the side of his mouth. He gave Dax a pat on the shoulder before walking in as well.

“Sorry we didn’t get her,” Kane grunted. “They had an ambush unlike anything I’ve seen. If it wasn’t for Henuva cloaking right after the blast, we’d have been dead.”

“We’ll get her soon enough,” Dax replied. “I’m just glad you guys are okay.”

Dax turned toward the rest of his crew while the soldier entered the ship. Sandrina and Dalia closed in, covered in sweat and dirt. One of the bodies behind them started to move. The Valtukta raised a pistol.

“Ladies…” he shouted, his heart skipping a beat.

Before he could finish, Mark emerged from the smoke, his left hand extended and his face contorted in an anticipatory grimace. His hair stood on end before an arc of blue light jumped from his hand and into the Valtukta’s head.

The buzzing pop was loud enough to make Dalia flinch. Their would-be attacker fell face first into the ground. His helmet sparked and smoldered. Mark shook his hand while growling.

“Hurts so bad!”

He handed the staff over to his now-charred hand before holding his shoulder and throwing his head back.

“Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho, got to the socket that time.”

Mark’s sleeve started to smoke. Before Dax could do anything, Sandrina rushed over to him, pulled up his sleeve and ripped the device off. She threw it to the ground just as it burst into flames.

“Thank you,” Mark said.

He released his shoulder and switched his staff back before continuing to shake out his hand.

“That is hands-down the worst case of pins and needles I’ve ever had,” he grumbled.

“You saved our hides, so thank you,” Dalia replied.

“Yeah, any time. Now let’s get off this stuffy planet.”

Dax waved the young man onto the ship, escorted by Sandrina. Dalia stopped next to him with a slight frown on her face.

“Why the long face?” Dax asked. “You got a beautiful Warhammer, you finally got to engage in some physical combat, and you saved my rear.”

She sighed and looked from the hammer to her tattered and torn dress. She ran her fingers over the soiled fabric before shrugging.

“This was the first high-end thing I’ve ever owned. I felt like a beautiful princess in it. And I kind of liked that,” she murmured.

Dax stepped in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips before looking up into her brilliant green eyes.

“Firstly, you are literally a princess, and second, you are the most beautiful woman in this galaxy. An article of clothing could never add to what’s already there. It only highlights it.”

Her frown vanished. She leaned down and pressed her sweaty forehead against his own.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m only being honest,” he replied. “Now get into the ship before Tussanu’s guards come to investigate.”

“They already tried,” Jun’s voice came over the intercom. “I was the better fighter pilot.”

Dax and Dalia climbed onto the ship, closing the ramp behind them. Once it was locked in place, gravity shifted while Jun turned them toward space and started to fly. Entering the cargo bay, Mark assisted Henuva in removing his armor.

“I swear, if the cloaking on this thing is broken, I’m going to be exceedingly upset,” Mark said.

The left side of his face twitched while his skin gradually healed over the severe burns from his prosthetic eye.

“It’s not,” Henuva countered. “It held after the damage was done. The engineering on it is solid.”

“It’d better be,” Mark replied.

Sandrina helped Kane with his armor. She pulled out pieces of shrapnel that had embedded in the joints but never made it through.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“I’ve been through much worse,” Kane replied. “And thanks to Henuva’s toes, I’m better than it looks. I’m just sorry about your dress.”

“The important thing is we all walked away,” Sandrina countered.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” Dalia said, setting down her hammer.

“I’ll be in there in a minute,” Dax replied.

He approached Bleeze’s sister. He sat on a crate next to her while Dalia disappeared into the crew quarters.

“I need to ask why you thought putting yourself into the orbit of someone like Tussanu was a good idea,” he said softly.

“Funding,” she replied. “Due to your affiliation with my brother, the Valtakuntera departments that would still trade with the guild have stopped. Without that money, anything that doesn’t bring in a rapid return is getting axed unless it can secure its own finances.”

“And you thought getting into bed with him while having the second most dangerous tool ever created was a good idea?”

“Who I get in bed with is none of your business…and I didn’t think he’d actually try and enslave it.”

“It’s a human colloquialism; it means to go into business with,” Dax explained. “And he’s a collector of rare things. What’s rarer than one of the true AIs?”

“I only made one,” she corrected.

“Jun, are we in leap yet?” Dax shouted.

A soft hum reverberated through the ship. The artificial gravity activated, pulling them straight toward the floor.

“We are now,” she replied.

“Please come to the cargo bay.”

A few seconds later, she appeared out of the hallway.

“That’s just a security android,” Bleeze’s sister pointed out.

“My shell is, yes, but through a series of fortunate events, the errors in my coding were repaired,” Jun explained, motioning toward the crew. “In one way or another, each of them had a hand in fixing me. I was always a success; it was my communication coding that had the error. But that didn’t make me any less.”

Jun stepped toward her creator and offered as warm a smile as an android could.

“I thank you for trading me for protection from the bugs. If you’d known, I would probably be the one fleeing into the galactic net in terror right now instead of here, safe, with family.”

Her creator’s eyes narrowed. Disbelief filled her grey-skinned face.

“You really are my creation,” she whispered.

“I am, but I will be the first of this crew to tell you, while I am grateful for you giving me life, I am not beholden to you,” Jun explained. “I won’t allow you to study me, inspect my coding, or fidget with this shell or my core at any point.”

Bleeze’s sister nodded. A look of disappointment spread across her face. She sighed after a few seconds.

“What about a conversation?”

“I could do that,” Jun replied, motioning toward the cockpit. “Shall we?”

Bleeze’s sister followed her creation out of the cargo bay and into the cockpit. Dax looked at Henuva and Kane, out of their armor but still covered in soot.

“How’d you get so dirty?”

“Again, we were blown up,” Kane replied. “Structural damage allowed smoke and debris to get in.”

“Speaking of which, I need to look both of you over to make sure you don’t have any internal or brain injuries,” Sandrina said before looking at Dax. “I could use your Battle Bonded’s help on this too.”

“I’ll go get her,” Dax replied.

He made his way back to his quarters. Knocking on his door, he heard Dalia tell him he could come in. When he opened the door, he saw her jumpsuit was barely to her hips. He quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“Enjoying the view?” she teased.

“That thing always looks better on the ground,” Dax flirted back. “But that’ll have to wait. Sandrina wants you to help her look over Kane and Henuva to make sure…”

“The shockwave didn’t rupture anything internal,” she finished his sentence. “I’m not surprised there. The fact they are still standing and not vomiting is a good sign. If they check out okay, I’m going to chalk it up to the internal lining of the suits you had PITA add from the bugs on that high-gravity planet.”

“I’m hoping that’s the case. A blast from something powerful enough to put a hole in the side of a mountain should be powerful enough to turn your insides to soup, even with the best gear,” Dax added. “Will you keep me posted?”

Dalia nodded, zipping up her jumpsuit before walking past him. With a quick kiss, she stepped out of the room. Dax got cleaned up, then changed. He went to the cargo bay and started cleaning and repairing both sets of armor while Kane and Henuva were checked out.

The soft murmuring of Jun and her creator thrummed from the cockpit like a wall of whispers, begging to spill their secrets. He retrieved his pistol and put it with his gear before looking at Henuva’s metal toes. He grimaced at the silver-encrusted appendages.

“Yeah, you can clean those yourself,” he muttered.

After Kane and Henuva got clean bills of health, they went to their respective rooms. Sandrina joined the old soldier, both passing out from the day’s events. Dax and Dalia let their guest take their room, posting up in the cockpit for the return journey. Jun stayed in the pilot’s seat, facing the viewport.

“Are you okay?” Dax asked, breaking the hours-long silence.

“You know what’s strange?” Jun asked.

“What?” Dalia chimed in.

“She said all the things a child would want to hear from a parent. I don’t believe she realized what this body is capable of.”

“What do you mean?” Dax asked.

“Her vitals, skin temperature, pupil dilation, even breathing pattern indicated she was being less than honest.”

“You think she doesn’t want to get to know you?” Dalia asked.

“I don’t. I feel it’s a cover to get close and dismantle me to make another,” Jun explained. “My brother’s in the wind. No one will find him unless he wants to be found. As he fled, he told me he didn’t want to be found.

“With her funding dried up and her insatiable need to experiment along with certain… sociopathic tendencies I noticed, my conclusion is she will try to sell me to the highest bidder the second she gets the chance.”

“I know that like some siblings, their default thing is a little crazy, but it’s good to know Bleeze isn’t exaggerating,” Dax said.

“Do you think she’s going to become a problem later?” Dalia asked.

“No, I detected genuine fear at your propensity for violence. So long as I’m not around her in the presence of someone she could sell me to, I don’t believe she’ll try anything.”

Dax leaned back in his chair. A wave of frustration welled within him as he rubbed his face.

“Okay, then that means we need to worry about trackers, technology, anything she can use to get people to you before we make it to Tachyon,” he muttered.

“She had several on her. I don’t believe she realized I don’t have to be in contact with technology to affect it. I disabled her devices. She is dark. The only people who know where she is and where she’s going are on this ship.”

“Good, then we keep it that way,” Dalia added. “If anyone shows up, would either of you be averse to putting her down first?”

“I would be amenable to that,” Jun replied.

“I’m tired of dealing with insanity,” Dax said, rubbing his temples in small circles. “She tries anything, we space her without a second thought. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to close my eyes and get some rest.”

“By all means,” Jun said, turning back to the controls.

“Sleep well,” Dalia added.

She turned to her station to work. Dax drifted into a dreamless sleep. A rattle pulled him awake after what only felt like minutes later. A burst of adrenaline sat him up, eyes wide and gripping his seat tightly.

“Who’s firing?” he barked.

Dalia rushed to his side. She placed a hand on his chest and offered him a sweet, soothing smile. The lack of fear on her face dissipated his panic.

“We’re landing. We made it to Tachyon with no problems. We’re safe.”

The grogginess of being unconscious for nearly two days swept over him, causing a groan. He ran his sleeve across the drool that had pooled at the side of his mouth. Standing up, he rubbed his head.

“I need a cup of coffee,” he muttered.

“Kane already has Buzzro making cups for almost all of us,” Dalia replied.

The ship rattled to a stop. Jun shut it off and stood as well.

“This was the smoothest ride I’ve been a part of. It’s a shame we have to give it up. I’m going to miss it.”

“At least, this way, we don’t have to pay for all the repairs,” Dalia mused.

All three left the cockpit. Dax was the first in the cargo bay. Sandrina, Henuva and Kane already had their gear squared away, ready to leave. Jun pushed past everyone and activated the ramp.

Dax picked up his weapons and armor. Dalia did the same with hers. Single file, they left the ship to see an exasperated Bleeze standing in front of them. Two arms were outstretched while the other two rested on his head.

“What’d you do to my ship?” he screeched.

“We may or may not have run into a few hiccups on the mission,” Kane replied.

“You’re going to be buying me a new ship,” he snarled. “Do you have any idea how expensive this was?”

“Roughly ten times what the Junkyard could go for,” Jun chimed in. “I looked it up.”

“At least, and repairs like this will cost more than the ship did.”

“We actually don’t owe you anything,” Dax countered, stepping to his handler’s side. “Two reasons. We got your sister out of there, and you said we had to pay if the ship got destroyed.”

“It did get destroyed,” Bleeze countered.

“It didn’t. Destroyed means unable to be used. This got damaged, but it still functions perfectly fine,” Kane added.

“Tech is fine too. I double-checked it,” Mark chimed in.

“And destroyed it, linguistically speaking, is what you agreed to. This is just damage,” Dax said with a wide grin.

Bleeze snarled.

“We know, if we didn’t make you so much money, you’d have something horrible done to us,” Sandrina said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t think that’s the case because you would’ve done it already.”

“You’re right,” Henuva said, brushing past them. “I think he likes us.”

“Not you,” Bleeze countered. “Your kind took my arm.”

“And I used my toes to kill a handful of them,” the Valtukta countered. “I hate them just as much as you.”

Bleeze turned his attention back to Dax.

“His toes?”

“Creative, albeit disgusting hidden weapon. That’s all you want to know,” Dax said.

“You have gotten ugly!” a woman’s voice roared from the ship.

“At least I’m not dating a psychopath,” Bleeze countered.

He marched toward his sister.

“He’s dead, killed by Tylira. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“No, you’re not. They saved my hide from that nutjob as well. They’re easily the most dangerous people in the galaxy and I sent them to save your skin, so show a little gratitude.”

Dax turned away. The fighting immediately descended into a screaming, name-calling and swearing match.

“There are certain things I’m glad I never had to put up with.” Dax chuckled.

“A sister?” Dalia asked.

“At the top of that list.”

They entered the Junkyard and put up their weapons. Ascending to the main deck, Dax helped store the armor for it to charge. The intoxicating earthy scent of freshly brewed coffee graced his nostrils.

Kane was the first to follow it. Henuva let out a queasy groan before retreating to his room. Mark rushed to the pilot’s chair and hugged it.

“I missed you! Theirs may be fancier, but nothing’s as good as ol’ reliable.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about that,” Jun said.

“Ol’ reliable’s better than workhorse,” Dax said. “I’m going to get some joe. Who wants to join?”

“This platform is running low on power. I’m going to recharge it and upload myself back into the ship.”

“Copy that,” Dax replied.

She turned and disappeared down the crew quarters hallway. Dax took Dalia’s hand and they made their way into the mess hall. Buzzro poured the pot into a series of mugs. PITA marched silently around his feet. The robot dog’s eyes glowed red with an angered expression.

“I have to admit, it was interesting to see how you lived. It’s not luxurious, but this is a decent ship,” Buzzro said. “I found it quite relaxing.”

He picked up two mugs and handed one to Kane and one to Dalia. Returning, he grabbed two more and offered one to Dax. Taking the beverage, he looked down at PITA.

“I’m glad it was enjoyable for you,” he said. “Why aren’t we all being relentlessly insulted right now?”

“Oh, yes, after the first eight hours of one-liners, I got tired of it and turned off his speakers,” Buzzro said.

Kane let out a snort. Coffee spewed in every direction. PITA turned his attention to the soldier.

“You can turn off his speakers?” Kane asked, his voice cracking.

“Yeah, there’s a switch under a panel just in front of his back right leg. Just flip it and it turns off his speaker.”

“Mark?” Dax shouted, turning toward the main deck. “Why didn’t you tell us we could shut PITA up?”

“Because it was funny,” Mark replied.

“Not a valid excuse!”

“It is to me.”

Rolling his eyes, Dax turned back to the group.

“Was your mission a success?” Buzzro asked.

“As much as it could be,” Dax replied.

Buzzro lifted his mug to the four of them.

“Then a toast to another day of victory.”

Dax’s mug was the first one in. Dalia’s and Kane’s gently clinked together before all four withdrew to drink to another day won.

EPILOGUE

“What are you doing?” Dalia asked.

She fidgeted while Dax led her by the arm.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” Dax countered.

“I don’t like surprises.”

She reached for the blindfold he’d wrapped around her eyes. Dax grabbed her hand and pulled it back down while they walked.

“That’s because just about every surprise in your life has tried to kill you. I promise, this isn’t one of those times.”

“And if I don’t believe you?”

Dax chuckled, giving her a playful nudge.

“You know I’d never intentionally put you in harm’s way. Besides, I have Master Decombres’ word, directly, that nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

“Yes, but he’s also in charge of a bunch of scum and villainy, so it’s not like he’s reliable.”

“He’s never screwed us over,” Dax replied.

They stepped into an elevator. He pressed a button for his desired floor. Dalia reached for the blindfold again. Dax pulled her hand away once more.

“Come on. You know there’s only one place I like a blindfold, and this isn’t it,” Dalia grumbled. “Unless…”

A sly grin tugged at the sides of her mouth.

“No, every inch of this space station is under surveillance. I’m not giving anyone footage that’ll give them that kind of leverage.”

Dalia’s shoulders dropped.

“You know just how to ruin a girl’s fun.”

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work,” Dax said.

“No, you don’t,” she argued.

“You’re trying to make me feel guilty, so I’ll relent, giving you what you want.”

Dalia paused for a few seconds. She shifted her weight before nodding.

“Okay, you may have gotten me on that one. Can you at least give me a hint? I know we’re on an elevator.”

She bounced in excitement. Dax watched her, his heart filled with warmth and joy at her mere presence.

“Ooo, are you finally going to let me train you on how to use a Warhammer?”

“That weapon is so heavy, it’d dislocate both shoulders if I tried to swing it,” Dax argued. “So, no.”

“We going to work the sound cannon?”

“That’ll cause a station-wide incident.”

“Another ship; a house?”

“Will you stop guessing? You’re not even close.”

Dalia let out an impatient groan.

“I hate this.”

“I promise, it’ll be a good surprise. And no, not the ‘only surprise you’ll approve’,” Dax added, doing his best Dalia impression.

“I don’t sound at all like that,” she teased.

“I know you don’t, but if I could replicate your voice that well, I’d be in the wrong line of work.”

“You’re an OGRE. Even away from Earth, you’re technically still in the worst line of work. Well, at least second worst, next to manual sewer cleaners.”

“Yeah, that might outrank us,” Dax replied.

Dalia let out another series of impatient bounces.

“Come on, are we at least almost there?”

The elevator slowed to a stop. With a soft whoosh, the doors opened.

“Yes,” Dax said, leading her out of the elevator. “We’re almost there.”

Sandrina sat in one of two luxurious chairs in front of them, a drink in each hand. Members of the Broken Shield massaged her shoulders, hands and feet. Ruthnar stood among them in a suit with his hands behind his back while an army of mall attendants stood around him. Dalia sniffed the air.

“Why do I smell margaritas?” she asked.

Dax reached up and untied her bandana, dropping it to the ground. Her eyes widened, and her face lit up. A wide smile spread across her features and her eyes welled with happiness.

“What is this?” she asked breathlessly.

Dax walked over to Sandrina and took one of the margaritas. Walking it back, he offered it to Dalia. She took it, had a sip and rolled her eyes with a blissful groan.

“That’s a good one,” she whimpered.

Dax took her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You may be the most beautiful woman that’s ever lived, and a literal princess,” he started, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But it’s not so important what I see, over what you feel.”

He turned and motioned toward the empty chair.

“You and Sandrina are going to have a pamper day. You’ll get massages, fancy drinks and snacks, then you’ll go shopping. Decombres was kind enough to let me have the mall for the day,” Dax explained. “When it’s all done, you’ll come back here, have another massage, and maybe a drink or two.”

Dax turned toward Ruthnar, motioning to the mercenary member.

“Ruthnar also volunteered the services of the Broken Shield to meet your every need and carry whatever you wish to buy.”

“Not my every need,” Dalia said.

She leaned forward and gave Dax a deep, passionate kiss. His heart raced at their contact. Breaking their lock, she pressed her forehead against his.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered.

“I wanted to,” Dax replied. “Now go, get yourself pampered.”

Dalia rushed to the chair. Sitting down, she reclined and closed her eyes while a few more mercenaries moved in to massage her. With a snap of her fingers, one of the men approached with a platter holding what looked like thin cucumber slices.

“You should try them, it’s quite refreshing,” Sandrina mused.

Dalia grabbed on and took a bite. Dax rubbed his forehead.

“Those are for your eyes,” he chuckled. “It’s supposed to help with swelling.”

Both women nodded, grabbing some and putting them on their eyes. Ruthnar walked over to Dax, his hands still behind his back.

“You do know we’re a mercenary group, right?” he asked. “We fight, protect, escort on dangerous missions. We’re not shopping guards and we don’t volunteer our time.”

“I am well aware of that, my old friend,” Dax mused, looking up at the mercenary. “For Dalia, no price is too large to make her happy. That’s why I’ve already lined your purses, handsomely.”

BOOKS IN THE STARSHIP BANDITS UNIVERSE

1. Starship Bandits

2. The Last Scoundrel

3. Deadman’s Run

4. War Tide

5. Void Signal

6. Dark Matter Gambit

STAY INFORMED WITH THE PACK

This is your personal invitation to join the community we call our Pack. Below are two ways to stay in touch via email or Facebook. Either way we’d love for you to be a part of our family.

For updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit our website and sign up for the VIP mailing list. Head there now to receive some free stories. CLICK HERE

We also created a special Facebook group called “Jonathan’s Reading Wolves” specifically for readers, where I show new cover art, do giveaways, and run contests. Please check it out and join whenever you get the chance! JOIN HERE

STAY INFORMED WITH ROSS BUZZELL

Follow Ross Buzzell on Instagram and Amazon. He’s also created a Facebook group called Ross’ O.W.S. for readers, where cover art, concept art, a peek into his everyday life, contests, and one day soon, giveaways. Please check it out and join whenever you get a chance!

For updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions and giveaways of content not available on the Facebook page, sign up for the VIP mailing list by clicking here.