Oblivion's Blade

By Dylan McFadyen

Shaara never asked to be in charge.

Since taking command of the mysterious AI warship Warden, and the eccentric mercenary company that calls him home, she’s only accepted jobs that let her conscience sleep at night. The trouble is, those jobs don’t pay too well. After more than a year of fighting for the downtrodden, the exploited, and the oppressed, the Wardens’ coffers are running dry.

So when they get a suspicious but lucrative offer from a pariah republic on the fringe of galactic politics, Shaara ignores the warning voice in her head and accepts. Of course, the voice is right—it usually is.

The contract takes the Wardens to the edges of explored space; there, in the vast darkness beyond the galactic core, a great and terrible force is gathering—a foe far deadlier than they’ve ever fought. The galaxy’s not ready to face it. Has Shaara saved them all from Gaeus Nemesis just to die another day?

What’s more, this new enemy holds the key to another mystery. As they fight for their lives, Shaara and Corax are forced to ask themselves a question they hoped they’d never have to: How much do they really know about Warden?

And can they trust him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dylan McFadyen
• Release date: Apr 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781738797257

Dylan McFadyen

Dylan has been writing science fiction stories since he was old enough to write. He’s been writing original science fiction stories—discounting admittedly awesome fully illustrated Star Trek and Star Wars fan fiction—since he was twelve.Other than sci-fi and storytelling, Dylan loves history. He has a master’s degree in international relations and conflict, and to this day spends as much time reading history as anything else.When not reading or writing, Dylan enjoys spending time with his lovely wife, Victoria, particularly watching yet more stories, from brilliant favorites like Battlestar Galactica and The Expanse, to joyously terrible films like Miami Connection and Samurai Cop. He also enjoys long walks with their dog, El Doggo, who is the fabled Goodest Boy.Finally, Dylan enjoys shooting sports, and like all good children of the 90s, video games. He’s played more hours of modded XCOM 2 than some babies have been alive.He also has a Lord of the Rings tattoo, which in a way tells you everything else you need to know.

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Copyright © 2023 Dylan McFadyen

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ISBN: 978-1-7387972-5-7

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Humanity is on the verge of extinction. Earth’s civilization has immolated itself in nuclear fire, ending a century of political chaos and environmental decay. The last survivors of the human race watch helplessly from space as their homeworld burns, and with it, their only chance of survival.

Until Tomasz Dabrowski, an astronomer abandoned on a distant space station, detects a mysterious alien signal. Humanity’s long awaited first contact with another intelligence has finally come, at the end of the world. Now, Tomasz must decide whether to respond to the signal, or to stay silent; because there’s no way of knowing whether these alien visitors will be our saviors… or our destroyers.

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For my mother

Power always thinks it has a great soul.

John Adams, human statesman

SHAARA RELEASED A captive breath, opened her eyes, and blasted herself into space.

Molten metal and rock preceded her into the black. The autothrusters in her combat armor stabilized her as she passed through the glowing fissure in the wall the plasma charge had left and gave her a boost once the debris had dispersed. She glanced at the tactical overlay on her visor. All five of her squadmates had made it through the gap behind her. They sailed in wedge formation a few meters above the outer surface of the giant asteroid.

Contact in twenty, she said, focusing her eyes on the right-angled compartment jutting from the asteroid’s craggy surface a few hundred meters ahead, much like the one they’d just blasted out of. Her thrusters bounced her over an outcrop moments before she slammed into it.

She glanced to her right. Her tac overlay highlighted six dots moving fast above the surface toward a third compartment in the rock.

How we doin’, Corax?

"Enjoying the view," her first lieutenant replied over the comm. Like a little vacation.

I figured you earned it after that dust-up last week.

Aww, thanks. Shaara’s armor juked her past another jagged rise. You know, I’ve always wanted to die smashed against a giant space rock.

Shaara grinned.

"Ten seconds to contact," an emotionless voice in her armor warned.

Showtime. See you on the other side.

See you, Chief.

A pulsing orange light played across the rock. Shaara glanced left in time to see the explosion heralding a ship’s death evaporate into the vacuum. Beyond, the silvery bulk of Warden slid past at low speed, a mere two kilometers distant. His guns blazed in all directions; his point defense arrays flashed blue-white, silently detonating enemy missiles in a wide sphere around him.

"Five seconds to contact," the ship said through her armor. Good luck, Captain.

"Thanks, Warden," she replied. She looked ahead—

Her thrusters fired, flipping her upward. The jets on the front of her suit blasted at full power. She hit the target compartment’s outer hull, absorbing the shock with her arms. Her rear-facing thrusters fired to keep her from bouncing back off into space. The magnetized pads in her gloves and boots did the rest.

Contact, she said. The rest of her squad smacked against the hull around her. She felt the impacts reverberate in her helmet.

Charge, she ordered. Her thurgellian trooper, Ba’alat, scurried down the hull on magnetized tentacles. He produced a plasma charge and affixed it to the wall.

Cover! The squad pulled back from the charge. Blow it!

The charge vaporized, along with the hull it clung to. Shaara’s squad waited until the pressurized atmosphere within had escaped, taking the molten debris with it.

On me, she said, unclipping the laser rifle from the back of her armor and diving through the breach feetfirst.

Simulated gravity gripped her once she was through, pulling her feet to the deck. She swiveled around, rifle ready. No enemy was waiting for her. The rest of her squad replicated her maneuver, landing on feet or tentacles as they plunged into the station. Except one, who hit the deck on his back and skidded into the opposite wall.

Shaara glared at him. On your feet, trooper!

Sorry, Captain! The human, Danar, scrambled up. Won’t happen again, ma’am!

Shaara shook her head. The rest of the squad were solid veterans. She hoped they would make up for Danar’s inexperience. She’d judged that having another human on the team was worth the risk, under the circumstances.

Seal it, she ordered, turning away from the callow human. Rakka, the squad’s scaly nikayan trooper, fired a stream of foaming material at the cooled edges of the breach from a launcher on her wrist. The material rapidly expanded to form an airtight film over the opening.

"Warden, Shaara said, enemy sitrep."

"Reserve troop formation Beta remains out of position in command sector, the ship reported. Estimated time to redeploy, fourteen minutes."

Shaara smiled. Entering the massive asteroid complex in the large torus module at the opposite end had succeeded in convincing the enemy she was going for their command and control. They’d committed their reserves there to stop her. Her little spacewalk maneuver had left the bulk of the enemy force well out of position.

What about Alpha and Gamma?

"Reserve Gamma has been pinned down in the reactor sector by Sixth Lieutenant Yanned’s Destroyer unit incursion," the ship said. I’ve temporarily lost track of Reserve Alpha. Last known position put them nine minutes from redeployment to barracks sector.

That’ll have to do. Shaara’s tac display projected the route to her objective on her visor. She set off for the indicated door with her squad behind her.

"I recommend proceeding with fire-support Plan B3," the ship said.

Do it, Shaara said as she reached the door. Within seconds, the deck was shuddering with the force of distant weapon impacts. Warden was using his main guns to collapse service tunnels between the primary torus and the barracks section Shaara and Corax’s squads had just arrived in. He’d track and shoot down any enemy shuttles leaving the station. Hopefully that would keep any reserves from getting here in time.

Shaara nodded at the blast door, sealed against the sudden decompression of a few minutes earlier.

Gehga. Charge, she said. The four-armed calabian trooper affixed the squad’s last plasma charge to the door. They split into fireteams, three on each side, two meters back.

Hold. Shaara scanned the walls and ceiling until she found what she was looking for, highlighted on her tac display. She raised her laser rifle at the target and fired. There was no sound, just rapid pulses of jagged, violet light. A neat hole was burned in the ceiling, and the conduit behind it. Then the sound came, a rush of air as the corridor, sealed at both ends, filled with atmosphere.

Her visor told her the pressure had equalized.

Blow it.

Shaara’s visor polarized against the blinding red-white plasma flash of the blast door vaporizing. The shaped charge blasted the molten debris inward, away from Shaara and her squad.

Through the wall of steam, Shaara’s tac display illuminated an enemy nikayan soldier, covered in glowing metal, thrashing in vain to shake off the liquid burning through her armor and flesh. Shaara put a laser burst through her head. The thrashing stopped.

One down.

Two more enemies were still up, further back. Staggered, but armed. Violet, staccato pulses of laser fire tore through the air with a sound like sawing sheet metal. Both enemies fell, smoldering canyons in their chests.

Clear. Shaara rose to her feet and took point. The squad fell in behind her. Microdrones launched from her armor and rushed ahead, scouting each corner for opposition that wasn’t there. The enemy clearly hadn’t been planning to defend this part of the facility.

Why would they? Shaara thought. What’s here isn’t worth much to them.

In less than a minute, she reached her objective. Two large doors at opposite ends of a T-corridor. Microdrones spotted automated turrets above each one, but no guards. No problem. The guns were slag in seconds.

Shaara stood in the corridor. Turned back to her squad.

Gehga, Ba’alat, Danar. She pointed at the door to her left. Rakka, Mennius, on me. Wait for my signal.

Danar cast her a furtive glance as he followed his fireteam toward their assigned entry. Shaara gave him a nod she hoped was reassuring and jogged off to the other doorway. Rakka and Mennius, the feather-necked urexiite sergeant, followed.

The door was locked tight, but there was no blast seal. Shaara nodded toward Rakka. The nikayan placed a device over the door’s control panel. She and Mennius took up positions on either side.

Ready, Shaara said.

Confirmed, Gehga reported from across the hall.

Mark!

Rakka activated the device. It whirred for a moment. The door slid open. Shaara and Mennius were through before it was finished, Rakka right behind them.

A sea of faces greeted them. Cowering behind bunks. Pressed into corners. Standing in the open. Frightened, shocked, defiant faces. Exhausted, oppressed, angry faces. Calabian. Thurgellian. Human. So many of them, human.

Three nikayan faces were behind weapons.

Shaara burned down the closest guard before she could get a shot off. The second enemy fired, scoring a glancing hit on Mennius before the urexiite killed her. The third—

Drop it! the third enemy screamed.

Shaara swung her rifle toward the voice, then froze. The last guard was barely visible now. Just her cranial spines, her boots. And the edge of the gun she was holding at the back of a human slave’s head.

Drop yours, Shaara said. Her voice echoed in the room from the speakers in her helmet. Or this doesn’t end well for you.

"Drop yours, the nikayan said, panicky anger seeping into her voice, or I start wasting rock-rats. I fucking mean it!"

Go ahead. Shaara looked for a shot around the slave’s head. Couldn’t find one. Plenty more where this one came from.

The nikayan scoffed. "Don’t slugshit me, mercenary. We know all about you."

The guard was backed into a corner. Literally. No way for Rakka or Mennius to flank and take her out.

Last chance, rock-rat, she said. I got a lotta rounds in this thing. Her cranial spines shook.

Twitchy. Shaara squinted.

Okay, she said. Tossed the rifle to the deck. Put her hands out to her sides. A wave of disappointment spread through the crowd of living chattel.

The guard’s head twitched. Them too.

Shaara kept her eyes on the guard’s spines. She heard Mennius and Rakka’s weapons hit the deck.

The guard’s right eye became visible, just around the side of the human’s head. It darted down. Sidearms too.

Shaara locked eyes with the human captive. A man: young, but he looked old. Worn out. His face was drawn. His eyes were tired. Accepting what was about to happen. Shaara knew the look. Hope, brief, snatched away.

Shaara winked at him. Confusion constricted his face.

"Slowly," the guard said.

You got it, Shaara replied. Her right hand sank toward the pistol holstered at her thigh. Just before her hand touched the grip, she shuffled to the right. Just a few inches. Enough to block line of sight, for a second.

The guard shifted to match. Her gun barrel left the back of the slave’s head.

Shaara wrenched her pistol out of its holster, flicked the power switch to minimum, and fired from the hip. The room thrummed, and a pressure wave slammed into the slave, and the guard behind him.

The guard fired a round into the ceiling. She crashed into the wall. The slave dropped to the deck, winded.

Shaara snapped her weapon up and flicked the power switch up one level in a single motion. The one shot she fired turned the guard’s head into a spray of blood and bone. It plastered the wall. The nikayan’s body slumped down into the corner.

Her squadmates already had their sidearms out and were searching the crowd of slaves for additional weapons. None came out.

Shaara stepped forward to help the slave she’d blasted to his feet. You okay?

He refused to meet her eyes. He still looked confused.

I would be too. Shaara patted him on the shoulder. Stepped back to get a better view of the crowd.

Listen up, she said. Alien and human eyes lifted to her face, just below her eyeline. Deferential. I am officially claiming the indentured property of the Frontier Worlds Directorate as spoils of war. As of now, everyone in this room belongs to the Wardens. Which means you belong to me.

Eyes fell.

She let a faint smile touch her lips. "And as of now, you’re officially free. Already signed the paperwork. And as free people, I invite you to follow me the hell off this rock. I got squads grabbing up the people in the other barracks. You’ll come back to our ship, and we’ll work out where you go next after you’re out of the combat zone."

A range of emotions washed over the crowd. Excitement, disbelief. More confusion.

The human slave she’d helped up locked eyes with her. His jaw was set now, his eyes narrow.

Why should we believe you?

Shaara shrugged. "You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t. Course, this rock is gonna turn into a whole bunch of very little rocks in about ten minutes. You might not want to be around for that."

The doubters looked at each other. It was tough to trust promises of freedom. Promises of a new, benevolent master. Shaara remembered all too well. After enough disappointments, you got to be able to sense the lies. Stopped hoping for better. Easier that way.

If there was one instinct that was better in most slaves, though, it was for survival. Those sitting, kneeling, cowering, rose to their feet, or up on their tentacles. They shuffled, many still uncertain. But they’d follow.

Shaara nodded. All right. We’re outta here. But first I need you all to grab something.

✧

So this is the other side? Corax said.

Shaara raised her fist. She and Corax clanged their armored forearms together.

This time, she said. Good to see you.

You too, Chief. He glanced behind her. Full house, huh?

She glanced behind him. A hundred or more liberated slaves crowded the long corridor between his two fireteams. About the same number she had behind her. His were wearing their vac-sealed work suits, like hers.

Full house, she confirmed. Nice work. Losses?

Cade’s hit but he’s keepin’ up for now.

Shaara winced. The human in Corax’s squad—like Danar, and Shaara herself, was a former member of the Children of Gaea. There to make the human slaves they’d been sure to encounter feel a bit more comfortable.

Okay, she said. Let’s see what we’re lookin’ at.

She shared a tactical map from Warden with Corax’s visor display. Yanned’s Destroyer unit had all but wiped out Reserve Gamma. They were completing the destruction of the station’s reactor section; in a few minutes they’d punch through the hull and back out into space. They could maneuver in their destroyer armor to regroup with Warden once the op was complete.

Reserve Beta was still struggling to get to the barracks section. A few squads had tried to mimic Shaara’s spacewalk. Warden had burned them out of the sky with his point defense arrays. Her route to the launch bay looked clear.

Except that Reserve Alpha was still unaccounted for.

Think they’re planning a surprise party? Corax asked, highlighting their apparently clear path to escape.

Shaara sucked her teeth. I would be.

Well, I know you hate parties, but I don’t know if we got much alternative.

"I got one, Shaara said. But I like it less. We’ll try the main route first."

Spend the rest of our micros scouting it out?

What else are we saving ’em for?

She saw the hint of a feather-nod through Corax’s visor. I’ll take point.

Like hell. Shaara stood, punched Corax’s shoulder. Watch our tails.

You got it, Chief. He rose and rounded up his troopers.

Shaara put herself two dozen meters out front of the horde of former slaves with Gehga, Rakka, and Mennius. Danar and Ba’alat stayed closer to escort them and keep an eye out for troublemakers.

Deep explosions continued to rattle the facility. The corridors were empty. Whatever guards had been there hadn’t liked their chances. Shaara couldn’t blame them. Her last supply of microdrones spread out, slipping into doors, air ducts, elevator shafts. Looking for the enemy.

They found some just before it was too late. Two full-strength squads with heavy weapons, positioned in side rooms to blast through the walls when Shaara’s team passed through. She slid to a halt, sank to her knees. Her fireteam followed her lead. A signal flashed back to Ba’alat brought the rest of the column to a halt, the troopers scanning for similar ambush groups they might’ve missed.

"Captain," Warden said, "I’ve reacquired Reserve Alpha."

Yeah, so have I, Shaara muttered. Two squads right in front. Where’s the rest?

Warden transmitted the map to her tac display. Four more enemy squads were converging on her column, using cramped service tunnels to get around behind them.

Fuck.

Yes. However, if you can push through the forward ambush parties, I believe—‍

Rapid-fire heavy mag rounds started punching through the walls of the corridor up ahead. One deflected shot snapped past Shaara’s head and slammed into Gehga’s chest, dropping the calabian next to her.

Shaara dialed her pistol up two more notches and shot back, alternating sides. She backpedaled, blasting head-sized holes in the walls.

Fall back! Still firing, Shaara grabbed the handle on the back of Gehga’s armor and started dragging it away. They’re tracking our movements, fall back!

Mennius and Rakka swept purple laser fire across the corridor as they crouch-walked backward, out of the mag cannons’ line of fire.

"Tail’s getting lit up too," Corax’s voice announced in Shaara’s helmet. No casualties but that ain’t gonna last.

Shaara checked the med-indicator on Gehga’s armor. The calabian was alive but wouldn’t be for long.

We can’t make the landing bay, not with wounded and all these civvies sandwiched in here.

"Understood, Captain," Warden replied. Shall I proceed with Plan B?

A bouncing round pinged off Shaara’s helmet.

Do it!

"What’s the word?" Corax asked.

How you feel about another vacation?

Already? The corridor shook violently. Chief, you spoil me.

✧

A lot of deep breaths were taken as the motley horde huddled together in a drab corridor, enemy closing in all around.

A countdown flashed on Shaara’s visor. Zero got closer and closer.

"Warden, she said. Your math better be fucking perfect."

The ship knew better than to answer her.

Cannon rounds again punched through the walls ahead. They traced a line toward her.

The counter hit zero.

The corridor exploded.

For a moment, Shaara could hear, see, and feel nothing but the explosion. On a rational level, she knew they were a safe distance from it. Barely, but safe. She knew Warden would have fine-tuned the power of his weapons within a microjoule to be sure of it.

But it was still an explosion. Still vaporizing the enemy ambushers. Still tearing a gouge in the asteroid base a hundred meters across. And still exposing the whole corridor to hard vacuum.

The high thermal, low kinetic energy mix Warden had applied to the projectile meant there wasn’t much shrapnel to pepper the troopers forming an armored line in front of the huddled former slaves. The explosive decompression carried the lot of them forward, toward the breach.

Shaara saw it coming, too fast. The waning firestorm and cloud of rubble barely had time to get blown into space before she reached the rent in the station’s hull. Two hundred souls trailed behind her as, for the second time that day, she was tossed out into space.

This time, though, she wasn’t skimming the surface. This time she flew almost straight up, away from the comforting familiarity of bare rock. Her body rebelled at the emptiness surrounding it, constricting, beating, dilating. There was something different about jetting out into space when you had a target in sight. Even if that target was an enemy station full of people who wanted to kill you. In a moment of clarity, she realized she’d never actually done this before.

Or rather, she’d only done it once before. And that time, she hadn’t expected to survive.

This is really, really, WRONG.

She tried to focus on the civilized, the orderly. Her tac display was still up, showing the cluster of living dots trailing behind her on largely the same trajectory. But there were a lot of them. And most of their suits didn’t have autothrusters. A few more seconds, max, and they’d drift apart. Out here, that was a death sentence.

She had a second uncharitable thought about her ship’s math. She clenched her teeth.

"Warden—"

As if answering the call, the ship appeared before her. Rounding the crest of the massive asteroid, still spitting out firepower on its second close-in orbit of the facility. His shining silver prow cut through the black like a liquid metal wavefront. For a second, it seemed that prow would slice through them all just as easily, smash them aside and leave them dead in the great nothing.

Then it angled up, just so. A light appeared beneath it, mid-way down the length of the ship. A ramp lowered, revealing the light of home within. It came on, still too fast—then a flash of lightning. Jets of blue-white fire appeared on the leading edge of the ship, and it slowed far more rapidly than something so massive had any right to.

The ramp loomed large in Shaara’s eyes. "Oh, fuck—"

Warden scooped her and the others up like a child shoveling pebbles off the ground. Gravity’s blessed embrace grabbed her a little too tight the moment she cleared the ramp. Yet still she hit the familiar deck as if she’d fallen from just a few feet up.

Of course that was exacerbated by the two hundred people tumbling to the same deck behind her. They rolled and piled over one another, just as carelessly as if that same child, bored now, had dumped his pebbles back on the ground. Shaara came to a stop, finally, at the rear wall of the cargo bay. Bruised. There’d be worse injuries among the civvies. Broken bones, to be sure. Maybe worse. But regen would take care of that. And they were alive.

"Punch it, Warden!" Shaara ordered—unnecessarily. The ship was well aware they were safely aboard. But it gave her something to say.

The ramp was already up. Warden’s main engines kicked in, as hard as he dared with unsecured people on the floor of his cargo bay. The ship accelerated away from the enemy station that was, for the next minute or so, still a massive rock hanging in space.

Shaara lay on the deck, breathing heavily. A cacophony of sentient noise filled the bay. Moans, crying, laughter. She would give herself a few seconds. Enough time to accept what they’d just done. Then she’d—

‘Oh fuck?’

Shaara rolled left, toward the source of the voice. Corax was wedged between Ba’alat and an apparently unconscious calabian slave.

Inspiring words as always, Chief, he said, smiling, needle-fangs and all.

PART ONE

The Whispering Night

The shape approached me, a shadow within a shadow;

And my heart was gripped with fear as I beheld it.

But as the fire’s flickering light bathed it,

I saw that my mind’s imagining had deceived me, and made me a fool.

For the shape was a man, like myself, though surely of some distant country,

Where the names of my fathers had never been spoken.

The Traveler’s Procession, Book III

Chapter One

SHAARA WATCHES THE stars wheel overhead. There’s a smile on her face.

A man is in her arms. He’s smiling too. Their heads are resting one against the other. They lie upon the green Earth. A warm breeze brushes their skin. Shaara blinks. It’s a bed beneath them, in her room. The stars are still above. Lush trees all around. A blanket rustles as she turns.

Are you all right? Nock asks her.

She smiles. Brushes his arm. Yes, love.

He sits up. Looks down at her. No. You’re not.

She sits up too. Looks into his eyes. Of course I am. I’m with you.

Adnan shakes his head.

You’re not, he says with Nock’s voice.

She smiles with her mouth, frowns with her eyes. What do you mean?

You feel guilty.

The breeze stops. I don’t.

You don’t have to. You didn’t do anything wrong.

The stars are gone. Shaara hangs her head. They’re in their bunks, back in the mines.

I’m sorry, she says. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t do what you asked.

Nock-and-Adnan smiles. It’s okay. I understand.

She smiles back.

Nock-and-Adnan gets out of bed. He walks away, past the rows of sleeping slaves, into the forest.

Shaara opens her mouth to call after him, but no sound comes. She rises from the bed, the blanket falling away. She follows him down the hall, her footsteps silent.

Wait, she thinks. He disappears into shadow.

She quickens her pace. She looks down, at the floor. Hears the sound of sticks crunching beneath her. One of the sleeping slaves coughs, grumbles. She turns toward him.

The bunkroom is the forest, on Earth. But the trees are dead now, the air cold and still.

Adnan, she says, and hears Nock’s name.

The wind stirs the dead branches to her right. She follows the noise. Keeps calling the names.

She hears crunching as she walks. She looks down. Bones litter the ground. Blackened, dried out human bones. They snap when she steps on them.

I understand, Nock-and-Adnan says.

Shaara looks up. He’s standing on a ridge just ahead, silhouetted against the sky, the thick soup of yellow-gray clouds. She can’t see his face.

She approaches him. What do you mean?

You just didn’t love me, he says. His voice echoes through the earth.

She slows. Her face falls. What?

You never loved me, he says, his voice smiling. That’s why you let me die.

No.

They’re in Warden’s launch bay. Shadows are watching them. One is Corax. One is Bre’elan. They’re all dead.

Shaara. His voice is so soft, so soothing. "You threw me away. You brought me back here."

On Earth, the air is a churning, poisonous fume.

No, no, I—

You kept my love for you in a drawer for eight years.

Shaara starts hyperventilating. "You don’t understand."

You said you hated it. You hated me. He stands before her, smiling. Puts a hand on hers. Squeezes.

She pulls it away. "No! No, I said—I did, I do—I love you!"

He shakes his head, closes his eyes. It’s all right. It’s all right.

She backs away, snapping bones. Don’t tell me that!

His eyes bulge out of their sockets. His face turns purple. Blood pours from the gaping wound in the back of his head. Down from his nose. Through his teeth. He’s still smiling.

It’s okay, Shaara.

She falls backward, screaming, into a pit with no bottom, darkness without end—

✧

The hammering in Shaara’s chest was already slowing when she woke up. Sweat was cooling and drying on her skin. The evidence of her frenzied thrashing was the bed sheet tangled in her arms and legs. Her pillow, tossed across the room.

She let out a long breath, closed her eyes. Her hand drifted up to clasp the gold ring hanging on a chain around her neck. She opened her eyes when the last images from her dream started to creep back behind them.

Good morning, Captain, Warden said.

Morning, she croaked.

It’s still one hour and fifty-seven minutes to your scheduled wake time. Would you like some assistance getting back to sleep?

It’s okay, Shaara.

No thanks, she said. I think I’ll get an early start today.

As you wish. The lighting in her bedroom began a gradual increase. She rubbed her eyes, then ran her hands over her head. Her hair was getting long, almost an inch now. About time to make some decisions about it.

She looked around the room. A blue and gray box, dull and comforting. One wall was taken up by a holographic window, showing the blue-green nikayan garden world of Landak turning below them. Eyes stared back at her from the other. Holo-images, some still, some on a subtly moving loop. Some belonged to the living. One of her and Corax, combat armor scuffed and scarred. A smoking landing craft behind them. Smiles on their faces. The aftermath of the first real fight they’d come through together, seven years ago now.

Her eyes were drawn to another: Bre’elan, arm-tentacles over Shaara’s shoulder. A bustling, thurgellian-filled club for the backdrop. Shaara was mock-recoiling from the tentacled hug. Bre’elan was captured in the act of gurgling with laughter.

Shaara smiled. The dead smiled back.

She looked sidelong, away from the wall of faces. Away from the two that were missing.

Warm up the shower, will you?

Yes, Captain.

She grabbed the hair trimmers from her cabinet as she entered the washroom.

✧

Steam followed her into her office when she stepped out a half hour later. She ran her hand over her smooth scalp.

That’s better.

The time flashed on her desk display: 0452. Tiredness seeped back into her, resisting the invigorating effects of the shower.

Bring me a big pot of that tea Corax likes, she said.

Which variety?

The strong one. She sat at her desk. The main display came to life. And two cups.

Of course, the ship replied. And when should I wake the first lieutenant?

Shaara glanced at the clock again. Give him another ten minutes. He’s earned it.

✧

Corax stumbled into her office nineteen minutes later. His feathers ruffled rapidly in a yawn.

Morning, Chief, he drawled. We under attack?

It’d be an awfully quiet attack, she said, gesturing at the seat across from her. Corax sank into it and immediately started pouring himself a large mug of tea.

True, he said. I just assumed, with the time.

She chuckled. The last hour of sleep that important to you, is it?

He took a long sip. Oh, the most important. Especially for urexiites. It’s been proven. Studies and such.

I’m sure you’ll get over it.

He shrugged, a lopsided ruffle of the feathers running down his neck and shoulders. We’ll see.

Shaara swept her hand toward him. A display flickered to life on his side of the desk. Information scrolled across it.

What do you think of this one? Shaara asked.

Corax squinted at it over his tea. In my current diminished capacity, I’d say it looks fine.

Read section four.

He scrolled down. Slowly took the information in. Ah. Well. Maybe not.

Gethis would’ve taken it.

Yeah, I’m sure the ol’ captain would have stopped reading after the first paragraph. The one with all the zeros in it. Corax leaned back. Never would’ve made it to the interesting part, with all the refugee hunting. What does it say these people did, they need to be chased across the galaxy and blown away?

Doesn’t. Non-essential info.

So why’d you show it to me?

Just wanted to make sure you’re awake.

Corax chuckled. Guess I didn’t do so good. I won’t let you down next time, Chief, promise. Just need to close my eyes and think about what I’ve done.

Mmhmm. Shaara flipped through more contract proposals. Dismissed half without a second look, based on who had sent them.

Corax opened his eyes and leaned forward enough to see the names scrolling past. He scoffed. Why the Reciprocity even bother to keep hitting us up, I can’t imagine. Hasn’t word gotten round to them yet?

Iktiklakt like to be thorough, Shaara said, eyes still on the display. Reciprocity iktiklakt, especially.

Yeah, well. Corax leaned back again. They want any more rebellions put down, they can do it their winds-damned selves.

Shaara got to the end of the list. She shot the few prospectives over to Corax, who grudgingly perused them with her.

He laughed at the proposed fee in the final one. That’s some pretty patchy grass there, Chief.

Shaara forced a smile. Yeah.

Corax looked out the simulated window at Landak. I suppose the question doesn’t need to be asked.

She arched an eyebrow. Which question?

Why you robbed my sorry vestigial tail of the most important hour of sleep to go over contract proposals when we haven’t even, technically, finished this one yet?

Shaara drank the rest of her tea. Started pouring herself another cup. Myetu’s been hounding me about the finances. Again.

I suppose that’s her job.

"Don’t I regret that. Shaara stood up, stretched. Walked over to the window. She was so damn quiet when she was justice officer. I figured when I bumped her up to Second Lt.—"

Corax trilled. "Yeah, well you never had to sit in while she mediated a dispute between two of your troopers. He mimed flapping thurgellian mouth tentacles with his fingers. Eventually they always agreed to let it go, just to get her to shut up."

It’s working this time, too.

Ah, it can’t be all that bad. Corax rose from his chair to stand next to her. Once we get the payout from these Gardeners, we can go on a little longer. Till something better comes along.

Mmm.

"And if you really need to, you can dump Myetu on me. Once in a while."

Shaara smirked. Thanks. But you got enough to worry about with the troopers.

So do you.

Shaara looked at him. He raised a hand.

"I don’t mean like that, he clarified. The ones from the bad old days that stayed are still with you, come storm or fire. Most of the newbies too, wide-eyed-babes that they are."

Shaara looked back out into space. They still need to get paid.

Who doesn’t? Corax punched her shoulder, lightly. You’ll figure it out. You always do.

Shaara made herself smile at him. Thanks.

Anytime. Corax finished his tea and checked the time. So. Call it a day?

Shaara laughed.

Chapter Two

ONCE AGAIN, CAPTAIN, Archon Nendet said, grasping Shaara’s elbows with vigor, I can’t thank you enough. Nor can the people of Landak.

Shaara gave the nikayan politician a professional smile. Just doing our jobs.

Oh, you’ve done far more than that, Nendet said reverently. Shaara’s elbows were still firmly in her grip. When the Directorate invaded . . . Well, you remember the state of things when you arrived. Our people were on the verge of collapse. You’ve given us hope.

Indeed, Vice-Archon Kida said from just behind Nendet. "It’s undeniable. The poll numbers are staggering. I’ve no doubt we’ll carry the floor by an unprecedented margin in the next assembly."

Corax nodded, a smile gracing his feathers. Well, I’m sure that’ll be a great comfort to the families of the soldiers who—

—died fighting for your people’s freedom, Shaara finished. Nendet nodded, awkwardly.

Most assuredly, Kida added, with apparent sincerity.

Shaara managed to extract her arms from Nendet’s ceremonial grip. Speaking of freedom, how are the captives we liberated from the Directorate hub doing?

Quite well, Nendet replied, moving over to a console on her rest-pool. The archon’s office, like most places on Landak, was bright and simply appointed. More like a university prefect’s study than a room from which a world was run. A broad window on the rear wall looked out on a bustling but simple city nestled in shallow turquoise waters. She could see why the Directorate, a militaristic power based in the system’s outer planets, had thought they’d be easy pickings.

Nendet tapped some holographic controls, and Shaara’s implant received an info packet. Most of them have chosen to remain on Landak, at least for the time being. They’ll be given homes and employment, if they wish it. Now that the Directorate’s Fugitive Chattel treaty is off the table, they’ve little to fear.

Shaara glanced at the data. That’s good. And these others?

"Most have requested transport out of the system. Since trade should be resuming soon, that shouldn’t be an issue. The stipend they receive from the war reparations should cover it. And a few have asked to join your crew, Captain. Their names have been highlighted for you there."

Good. I’ll take it under consideration.

Excellent.

And I trust, Kida interjected, that the, um, ‘victory bonus’ transferred into your account was . . .

Sufficient, yes. Thank you.

Kida smiled broadly. Very good.

In that case, Shaara said, I guess our business is concluded.

The archon stepped back over to her, robes flowing. She extended her arms again. Shaara complied, placing her elbows in the archon’s hands one last time.

Feel free to call us up if the Directorate tries anything again, Shaara said. "And let them know in the negotiations we’ll be more than happy to come back and smash some more of their toys if they do."

I’ll make sure of it, Nendet replied.

And let us know how the election turns out, Corax cut in. I’ll be on the edge of my seat.

Oh, Nendet said a confused smile. Um. Of course.

Corax smiled.

✧

Shaara punched Corax in the mouth.

He staggered backward, bringing his hands belatedly up into guard position. Shaara jabbed at his exposed midsection, but he managed to sweep down and deflect the blow. He took a stronger step backward.

I thought that went well, Shaara said.

Oh, I don’t know. Corax worked his jaw. Thought it could’ve landed a little more square, myself.

Shaara smirked. I mean the—

Corax feinted left, then threw a flurry of blows at her head. She blocked a few and dodged the others, but it left her open to the knee he planted in her left side. The breath blew out of her. She scythed her right elbow toward his temple, clipping his forehead instead. They separated.

I know what you meant, Corax said, grinning.

Shaara steadied her breathing. How’d they do?

Corax circled to the right. Shaara matched him.

Well enough, he said.

Any take that last shuttle?

Just one.

The thurgellian?

Corax feather-nodded.

Called it, Shaara said. She jabbed at Corax. He danced back.

You’re getting pretty good at that little speech of yours, he said.

Only ’cause I know how much you like listening—

He hit her on the chin. Her head snapped back.

✧

Let’s get one thing straight, she said to the five former slaves arrayed before her in the training simulator. It was the first thing out of her mouth as she entered. They glanced furtively at one another.

I didn’t free you so you’d end up on this deck. She nodded at the floor in front of them. If you’re trying to join up out of some misguided sense of gratitude, you’re here for the wrong reason.

Before today, how many of you knew who we were?

More glances back and forth. Both the humans raised their hands. The iktiklakt vibrated its head yes.

What did you hear?

Its mandibles chittered. That you free slaves. Not just humans.

One of the humans nodded. Shaara glanced at the other. The man who’d been held hostage back on the station. His expression was just as hard as it had been when he’d questioned her motives.

What about you?

He stared back at her, unblinking. I heard you killed Gaeus Nemesis.

She held his gaze. Her mind leaped back in time more than a year. To the disintegrating wreck of the Earth ship Deucalion. To dragging herself bleeding off a broken spar, after that bastard Gaeus left her there to die in Breachspace. To grabbing her gun and blasting the ship apart before he could get away with it. Leaving him to an eternity of madness and death instead.

Because you’re you.

That’s right, she said. I did.

The man’s expression didn’t change.

Anyone got a problem with that? Shaara asked.

The other human rapidly shook his head. The three aliens didn’t respond. The man she was looking at studied her eyes for a moment. Then his face softened, a little. No.

What’s your name?

He seemed to think about the answer, or whether to give it. Kohan.

Okay, Kohan. I’ll take your word for it. She turned back to the others. So now you all know something about us. And I don’t know anything about you, or where you came from. Here’s the thing. I don’t want to know. I don’t care. She crossed her arms and nodded at Kohan and the other human. "Maybe you two used to be Gaeans. Maybe you others were criminals, or owned indentureds or slaves yourselves. None of that matters now. Maybe the rest of the galaxy cares about that. But as my first lieutenant likes to say, we all got shit."

Corax, standing beside her, rustled his feathers in the affirmative.

"If you pass the training here, all we care about is that you can fight, look out for your buddies, and follow orders. She met each of the recruits’ eyes and visual zones in turn. If you have a problem with that, you’re free to leave. We have no indefinite contracts. I won’t have anyone in my company that doesn’t want to be here."

Shaara clasped her hands behind her back. "There’s another thing my company doesn’t do, and that’s take any old contract that comes across my desk. We don’t fight for slave owners, or slave traders. We don’t hunt down refugees. We don’t support wars of aggression or conquest.

Now, as you might imagine, that means our client list is a little shorter than most. The recruits, other than Kohan, chuckled. And we don’t get a lot of repeat business. So if you’re here to get rich off the spoils of war, then leave now. If you’re here because fighting is all you know, and you want to make a living doing it without getting your conscience too dirty, then you’ll fit right in.

She locked eyes with Kohan again. "But if you’re here because you want to be a hero . . . then you should think twice. Because this is still war. And it’s not very kind to heroes."

This time, finally, he looked away. Maybe wondering how she’d known. How she’d seen through the stone mask he’d built up.

First Lieutenant Corax will see you through the day’s training evaluation, she said, "provided you decide to stay for it. If you change your mind, the last shuttle for Landak leaves at 1800, so be on it. If you’re still aboard at 1801, you’ll be assigned to one of our troops’ training squads, where you’ll remain until you complete training and get your final squad assignment or until we next make port. And in keeping with our contract, we’re cruising the outer planets for the next week or so before we leave the system, so that might be a while.

Good luck.

She gave them each a last look before she left. She thought they’d all stay, or at least try to. Maybe not the thurgellian; he’d looked too disappointed when she ruled out the prospect of getting rich.

Kohan would stay too, she decided. He’d think about what she’d said. What she’d known. But he’d stay.

✧

I especially liked the ‘don’t be a hero’ bit, Corax said as he danced backward again. "That might’ve landed harder if we hadn’t just rescued those same people from slavery in damn heroic fashion."

Shaara threw a low kick. If I could’ve done it un-heroically, I would have.

Corax’s feathers ruffled indistinctly. Whatever you say, Chief.

Shaara’s brow furrowed. She lunged forward on another low kick and threw a chain of punches at Corax’s head. The kick landed, knocking his left leg back and throwing him off balance. She hit him with a gut-punch that drove the breath out of him, and followed that up with another elbow down toward his temple to finish the fight—

Corax launched himself forward with his planted leg, tackling her. She tried to stay up, but her footing was off. Corax’s momentum carried her down to the floor. They grappled—she tried to wrap her legs around his waist and yank him off, but he had weight and flexibility on her. Unable to get weight behind her blows, they landed soft. In a few seconds, he had rolled to her side, pinning her arm back and straining the elbow joint, his feet planted in her back.

She growled. Find a way out. Don’t give in. No matter what, DON’T GIVE IN, NEVER, NEVER—

She tapped out.

Corax released her arm and rolled away. She resisted the urge to lunge after and pummel him. Slowed her breathing.

Good fight, Corax said.

Yeah.

She heard him stand up, brush himself off. His hand appeared next to her. Grudgingly, she took it. He hauled her to her feet.

Didn’t do any permanent damage, did I? Corax said with an open-mouthed grin.

Shaara worked her shoulder. Don’t think so.

The grin faded. You okay, Chief?

Yeah. She swallowed. Yeah, just tired.

Corax feather-nodded. "Been a long a day. Why don’t you kick off early? I can handle the wrap-up with Warden before we cruise out."

She closed her eyes. Thought about sleep.

It’s okay, Shaara.

No, she said. She forced herself to flash him a smile. "I’m the one who robbed you of your most important hour of sleep. You kick off."

You’re the captain. He started off toward the showers. Stopped, turned. There’s worse things than getting up a little early for some tea, though. In case you feel the need to rob me again.

Thanks. Her smile shrank, became more genuine. Corax left.

Shaara stood alone on the sparring floor for a few more minutes. Staring at the deck.

It’s okay, she said.

Chapter Three

THERE WAS A blinding flash of violet light, silent at first. Then a deafening crash, and the side of a skyscraper a kilometer away exploded. Debris rained down on the street below. A cloud of dust swept between the surviving buildings toward the squad hunkering behind a barricade.

Nice touch, Warden.

Okay, recruits, Corax said in his best ‘officer’ voice. Who wants to tell me what that was?

A burst of mag-cannon fire obliterated the wall behind him. Rounds deflected off the glacis of the barricade, and it shuddered violently.

One of the humans huddling behind it in combat armor yelled without opening his eyes. Artillery fire, sir!

Corax feather-nodded. He started pacing back and forth behind the barricade.

Recruit Vasqua thinks that building was destroyed by enemy artillery, he said. Two heavy mag rounds tore through his unarmored chest, flickering as they passed. Recruit Vasqua is incorrect. Anybody else?

The dust cloud swept over the squad. Their vision was limited to what their tac overlays could highlight. Corax could still see clearly, enough to notice the enemy fireteam advancing from the right. Their armor was fitted with diffusion arrays, making them more difficult to pick out on overlay.

Very nice touch.

Aaanybody? he said.

It was . . . The iktiklakt recruit cut its answer off when it finally noticed the advancing fireteam. It screeched and swept them with laser rifle fire, but not before one put a mag round through its helmet. It screamed and fell to the ground, its armor seizing up.

Ohh, I’m sorry, Recruit Ktylikyla, but ‘aghhhh’ is also incorrect. Last chance.

Vasqua was next closest to the surviving enemy. He cowered behind the barricade, still unaware of the danger. Kohan, further down the line, popped up over the lip of the barricade and burned down the last flanking enemy with his laser rifle.

Orbital particle beam, sir! Kohan said as he dropped back down.

And Recruit Kohan has the answer, Corax replied. "He gets a thousand points. Now if he really wants to clean up, he’s gonna tell me what that means."

A second fireteam opened up from the other flank. Perhaps hoping to make up for his inaction, Vasqua pulled a grenade from his belt and primed it. But when he heaved back to throw it, a heavy round pinged off the barricade next to him. He yelped, and the grenade fell into the street next to him. He dove for cover. The calabian recruit next to him darted one of its lower arms over to the explosive and chucked it over the barricade. The explosion rattled them, but nothing more.

Corax pointed at the human. Congratulations, Recruit Vasqua, you found the corollary lesson: don’t drop grenades. But the main one is still up for grabs, and time is running out.

Kohan was focused on firing back at the new threat. The calabian recruit was tight-lipped, as usual. Vasqua struggled back to his knees.

It means . . . He picked his rifle up and looked around, as if for something to do. Uh . . .

There was another violet flash. Corax looked up at the sky. Don’t worry, Recruit Vasqua. I think the enemy’s got the answer for you.

The purple light exploded, outshining the sun. There was a sound like the world ending as the particle beam cut a swath through their lines, and then—

It all disappeared, replaced by the padded, bluish interior of the training simulator.

And the enemy steals the points, yet again, Corax said, crossing his arms.

All four recruits were splayed on the floor, immobilized. Gradually, their armor released its hold on them, and they began to stir.

Recruit Kohan, Corax said, what happened?

Kohan’s faceplate slid open. He rose to a sitting position, breathing heavily.

The . . . orbital fire, sir.

What about it?

It . . . He swept his hand across the floor. The first shot was ranging. Then they just cut across the whole line.

Very good, Corax said. "I’ll even give you the benefit of the doubt and say you would’ve figured that out before we all got killed."

I don’t understand. Vasqua rose to his feet, face red. There’s nothing we could have done.

Corax feather-nodded. Excellent work, Recruit Vasqua. Your first correct answer of the day.

The human’s face constricted as he locked eyes with Corax. Then what in Gaea’s name was the point—

Recruit! Corax shouted. Vasqua staggered back as if struck. "Address me properly when you speak to me!"

Vasqua’s back straightened. Sorry, sir!

Corax got in his face. The other recruits stood to attention as well.

"The proper way to ask that question, Recruit, is to say ‘Sir, what in hell was the point of that fucked up exercise, sir?’ Is that understood?"

Yes sir! Vasqua shouted.

Say it!

Sir, what in hell was the point of that fucked up exercise, sir!

That’s better. Corax feather-nodded again, stepped back. Since Recruit Vasqua seems not to have gleaned any lessons from that particular exercise, I might be forced to admit it was a failure. Unless one of you sorry asses wants to tell him what the point of it was. Maybe I can salvage a tiny scrap of my pride.

He looked directly at Kohan. He could see the human knew the answer but didn’t want to say it. At least that’s what that expression means on Shaara’s face.

Sir, Ktylikyla chittered, the point was to punish us for asking to be put into combat simulations, sir.

Corax pointed at it. "Recruit Ktylikyla is partially correct. Maybe next time I ask you, rhetorically, if you think you’re ready to fight, you’ll have the good sense to keep your mouths shut. But there’s another lesson hidden in there, and Recruit Vasqua almost figured it out by accident."

Sir, Kohan said, some of the burden of speaking first removed, the point was that sometimes we do our best, and we’re just going to end up getting killed anyway, sir.

Thank you, Corax said. "Although I sincerely hope that wasn’t your best, you’ve at least managed to squeeze a little bit of wisdom out of getting killed. In that scenario, we were fighting on the ground. I assume you all figured that one out. The simultaneous battle going on in space went against us. An enemy ship managed to take up station, cut through the interference, draw a bead—and turn our entire front line into fused glass. And there wasn’t a winds-damned thing any of us could do about it."

Corax began pacing. "Now, as you might have guessed, I’ve never been in that situation myself. And Warden can usually kick the ass of anything in space. But I’ve lost a lot of troopers who made stupid, grenade-dropping mistakes and got themselves killed—and I’ve lost a lot who did everything right and bought it anyway."

He let that sink in. Vasqua still seemed more embarrassed than anything, but that might work for him in the long run. Ktylikyla and the calabian, Guma, were hard to read. Kohan still had that look on his face.

Maybe it doesn’t mean what I thought. I should ask Shaara, if I ever feel like getting thrown across a room.

This is the end of your fourth week of training, he said. You’ve come a long way, but not far enough. From here on out, it’ll be the responsibility of your troop leaders. So consider this my last gift to you, unless or until we end up in the field together. Take it seriously, and you might get the chance to die a death you don’t have to be embarrassed about. We clear?

Sir, yes sir!

Corax feather-nodded. All right. Now hit—

A message flashed across his eye through his neural implant. From Shaara, text only: My office in ten. Tea and questions.

He feather-smirked. Sent back a reply: Just bringing some recruits back from the dead. Be there in fifteen.

Sir? Ktylikyla said.

Sorry, Corax replied, focusing on them again. Just deciding how many high-g laps to make you run before you can hit the mess.

There was an audible slump.

Chapter Four

SHAARA DIDN’T LOOK up as Corax walked into her office. Her eyes were fixed on an empty point in the air above her desk. Either a subjective holoprojection, or she’d finally gone insane. Corax was about to ask her which when she spoke.

What do you know about the Sovestus Republic?

Same as anyone else. He took another step into the room. The door closed behind him. Why?

Ever hear of them hiring mercs? Shaara asked, eyes still boring into the air.

He took a seat, cutting across her eyeline. No. I thought they were too proud of their little amateur fleet to bring in pros to help.

Shaara made eye contact with him. Didn’t they beat the Tyzangs in that war, uh . . .

Fifty years ago, Corax said.

Really?

Forty-eight, Warden corrected.

Corax feather-shrugged again. "A long time ago. You saying they want to hire us?"

Maybe.

Maybe?

Shaara flicked the file over to him. A projection of it appeared in the air before his eyes. He started reading.

‘Departments of War and Foreign blah blah . . . request presence . . . to discuss items of mutual concern, and potential of forming beneficial relationship, sincerely, Minister etc.’ Corax leaned back. "Yeah, I’d say if you wanted professional help but were too proud to admit you needed professional help, that’s how you’d word it."

Shaara took a sip of tea. What do you think?

Corax pulled over a cup and poured himself some Myrii red from the pot. The rising steam blurred the holoprojection in front of him.

You’re asking if it’s a safe bet? Well. Corax took a long drink. Good stuff. "They still won’t even trade with anyone who trades with slave owners, so we’re clear on that front."

Shaara looked off to the simulated window to her right. It showed nothing but stars. They were deep in the outer system, far from any world. Of course, it was a simulated window. She could get Warden to show anything she wanted on it. Corax had noticed she liked to have it show whatever was actually out there. Seemed to comfort her. Seemed a little boring to him. He