The Black Wolves

By Gwyndolyn Russell

While the Syndicate tackles the search for Fenris' artifact, Spectre is across the galaxy on Rodora, a giant earth-like planet colonized by the Order of the Hunters, a once secret collective of people. Hunters live separate from other humans in their own communities where they are schooled in the art of w

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwyndolyn Russell
• Release date: Sep 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088093610

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

Hey! A man called, waving his arm up over his head. You can't dock here! Go around--- He was interrupted by his head exploding into a crimson mist.

Phantom leaned out of the open hatch of the ship, sending a bullet right through the man's head. The ship was just big enough for two people to live in comfortably. An exterior made of sharp angles and points, it mimicked a sparrow in mid dive with short wings bent backwards tight against its body and a cockpit well blended into the front. No visible windows, the surface was blacked out with a white spray painted design of a screaming demonic skull, old and weathered against the panels.

Phantom left the ship in autopilot mode to stay right where he put it. He wouldn't be here long. This asteroid had been turned into a mining facility. Apex Corporation's flags waved high on the facility, that minimalist series of A's nearly bleached in the raw starlight from beyond. Already the people were scrambling around. The witnesses to the first kill ran screaming, setting off the alarm.

He moved quickly to the building, shooting down anyone who ran away, whether they wore an Apex uniform, or the rags of a laborer. They were all good as dead to Phantom.

Most of the building was built into the asteroid with a dozen, or so drills continuously digging into the cosmic rock. These drills were manned at all times, but not just by humans. Apex had employed the contractual service of any run down soul looking for a way out of hell. Little did they realize they had quite literally signed their lives away. They were slaves. Not even paid. Barely fed. They were sick and starving. Filthy and weak. Phantom was doing them all a favor. Ending their miserable lives. Giving them the freedom he could only taste. He didn't even remember what it felt like to be free. To have control of your own life. He was shackled to the strings of a life brimming with death and disaster. Trapped in a perpetual cycle of kill, or be killed.

This was his life. The way he lived and the lifestyle he chose. At least he thought he chose it. Running around killing everyone he saw that bore the flag of Apex. He would never admit that he lived like this because of Apex. They were the ones that saved him after all. Not just once, but several times. Each near death experience ended with him in a hospital bed fixed like new. War after war, he fought while controlled by them. Now he was free without even realizing it. A door wide open, yet he stayed. Not because this was comfortable. This may have been the only way he knew how to live, but he was out for revenge. He would burn Apex to the ground.

As always, Lucy was charging in ahead. She shot everyone she saw. A few rounds in the back, the chest, or the head. Whatever it took to bring them down quickly and assure they were not going to get back up. Phantom kept up easily, taking down any she didn't catch first. She preferred the use of pistols and rifles. Phantom hardly saw her without. Even when she showered, her rifle was within arm's reach. A life time living in a battlefield would do that to you. Keep you from living a normal life. Keep you from just being a person. They still woke up as if they were in war. Still heard the screams of people dying and the roaring thunder of weapons. Aside from his arms, her own solace was her weapon.

Phantom set up an explosive charge to get through a door. Backed away from the explosive's range, they shot down a few guards that came from behind. The charge went off in a hail of smoke and metal debris. One half of the door flew inwards, crashing into the far wall of the hall. The other crumpled up on its rails bent outward.

Slaves ran into the smoke with no other way to go. Unfortunately, the smoke could not hide them. They were shot in the back. One fell lifeless through the smoke and into the open hall beyond.

On the other side of the smoke was a large group of people. A handful that were from the Federation, seemingly in a tour of the facility. The others were not only the commander of the facility, but his personal lackeys. None had realized what had been going on. The alarms were not even activated yet. It took them only seconds to get this far in and all they had to show for it was a trail of bodies left like bread crumbs.

The moment they got eyes on the commander, Phantom shot him right between the eyes. He ran in for a better sight on the others. With his sword out, a titanium blade, razor sharp on one edge and a rail of super-heated plasma on the other, he went in for a kill only to be stopped by one of the Federation guys.

Tall was an understatement. Phantom himself was approaching six feet, this man was nearly seven feet. Well-built and held himself like a seasoned veteran, unafraid of any obstacle in his way. The man came right for him. Phantom stopped him mid swing and countered with a punch of his own. A swing of his free arm shoved the other man's fist away.

He swung again, forcing Phantom into a dance of blocks and dodges. This Federation soldier could fight, but he was not good enough. Not quick enough. Not strong enough. Phantom was no average soldier. Even while he was actively blind thanks to that wolf's skull of a helmet he wore, he easily outclassed this low ranking soldier. He practically toyed with him! Egged him on to swing and swing only to be met with disappointment with each miss.

Just as the man thought he would get a hit on Phantom, those knuckles slammed right into his nose. The soldier hit the wall and dropped to his rear. His nose crooked and draining blood down his face. Phantom crouched down in front of him, lifted up that sword to press the metal tip under the man's scruffy chin. He forced his head upwards, the jaws of the wolf skull merely an inch from his face. Phantom looked him over. Far from impressed, he was disappointed. He looked a lot better than he was.

Apex soldiers were coming in guns blazing from further down the hall. They were not even trying to be precise with their shots.

Phantom picked himself up and moved after the soldiers.

ONE

Phantom woke up to the sounds of gunshots. People screamed from out of sight. Smoke clouded his vision, the smell of a fire burning. He gasped for air, his lungs failing temporarily. Something soft and delicate brushed his cheek. A weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe. He could have sworn he felt two little hands gripping his throat tight. The roar of the rifles cracked through his ears like thunder. The fire growing bigger as it neared his hole.

L-Luc... He barely got the word out.

Phantom? Phantom, wake up! He heard her call.

The hands on his throat shifted up to his face. He shut his eyes only to open them again. This time all of the smoke was gone. A white light overhead hummed. A few soft clicks and beeps here and there. Lucy was lying on top of him, her chest against his. Those long, black locks covered half of her face. Her cybernetic hand brushed over his cheek, her thumb lingering just beneath his eye while she looked him over.

It was just a bad dream. She whispered.

He brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He studied her face for a minute. Each little etching of those old scars. How the tissue rippled and stretched now more white than pink like when they first met. His thumb brushed over those soft lips. Her blue and green eyes were staring right back at him.

A.X. Rok, a voice came over the radio. How do you copy?

Lucy jumped up. We must be there. I'm gonna get dressed. She slipped down off the cot carved into the wall. She hurried to the back of the ship for the bathroom, leaving Phantom to get up and take a seat in the pilot's chair.

This is A.X. Rok, I copy you loud and clear. He said with a guttural rasp.

Are you looking to be serviced? The controller asked.

No service today. He leaned back in his seat, rubbing the side of his face.

You're clear to land on Pad Six, in Dock Bravo.

He could have used the autopilot system to bring the ship in, but he opted to do it himself. There was a better comfort in having control of speed and trajectory in such a crowded dock. Solstice was an enormous space station floating out in no man's space. Despite its criminal history and the kind of people that flock to it, it was an ever bustling city. Its outer rim was littered with docks, nearly half of which intended for cargo ships. The rest were a collection of carefully placed landing pads and docks with magnetic locks. Pads were tightly placed together up closest to the station, leaving the larger ships to dock farther away. Phantom piloted the ship through the crowd of other ships, most of which much larger than the little bird he had. Once he had landed the ship and shut it off, he jumped out of the hatch on the side.

As always, the docks were packed. Heavy machines slowly flew overhead. People of all shapes and sizes walked to and fro. Phantom joined the crowd, pushing the skull backwards so it would rest against his back, the teeth pointed outwards. He ran his hand over his head, smoothing back the loosely greased back locks to keep them out of his face. His blue eyes scanned the crowd as he walked. No one of interest.

Not much had changed since he was last here. The same filthy people doing the same mundane thing. There were people shouting something about checking for proper identification before dealing with alpha hunters. He noticed there were more fliers and screens posted up calling attention to the Black Wolves' crimes and dangers. Others asked for good doers to capture and turn in any rogue alpha hunter they spotted. Then there were the screens hacked into by the Black Wolves, depicting one of the many leaders making a call to action.

Phantom pushed the lower jaw of the skull down around his collar and pulled the balaclava beneath to cover his nose and mouth. Off in the distance was a pair of hunters bearing the mark of the Order. They were Venators, modern day crusaders hunting down alpha hunters. It seemed they were starting to crack down hard on the rogues. Venators were not even a profession a year ago. The Black Wolves must have hit a nerve finally if the Order was training people specifically to hunt down alphas. They were starting to crop up just about everywhere Phantom went.

He pulled on his jacket as if that would keep him from being seen. He took the long way through the bustling city and stuck to the crowd. The venators wouldn't venture into the slums, at least not for long.

Down here, everyone was a thief. They lived miserable lives sleeping on the side walk, or inside dumpsters. The only businesses were peddlers who's worth was judged by the cleanliness of the blanket they displayed their stolen goods on. It was best to keep everyone at an arm's distance and never look them in the eye. The moment one was acknowledged they would all surround the poor soul like a pack of rabid wolves.

Phantom wandered down into the depths of the slums. Through the moaning and groaning of the fools littering the streets, he could hear the sounds of chatting. Glasses clinking. A rundown building was lit from the inside. No sign. A board over a broken window. The door was propped open with a heavy, old helmet. Tucked into a corner and far out of the way, the only people who found themselves here were those that knew where to look. It was a respite from the cold hell of the street. Filled with the pleasant hum of music softly playing from the back.

Unwanted folk, stray dogs or otherwise criminals flocked here. The underdogs of this world. Hard working, less than honest individuals out for what they needed to survive. No one seemed to notice when he entered. He wasn't going to be staying long anyway. He found a couple of men sitting at a table, dirty women in their laps.

Phantom hit his hands against the table, leaning over it. The women screamed. One of them jumped up to her feet. The men had gasped, one choking on his drink.

Phantom! Buddy! What're you doin' here? The one with longer hair asked, leaning back in his seat.

Need something good. Phantom straightened his back.

There hasn't been much activity. He reached for his drink. Shipments are fewer, but larger. They haven't been moving anything, or anyone important. Not since the Black Wolves killed La Ratheb.

They attacked Apex? Phantom raised a brow.

Looks like you ain't the only one that hates them.

It doesn't make sense. Phantom shook his head. Apex has been known to be charitable to alphas.

Hey, I don't know anything about it. The man downed his drink.

You know who might? His friend across the table leaned in. I heard there was a new alpha on the station. He was looking for Marko.

Marko playing with an alpha? That's hilarious.

Where can I find Marko? Phantom asked.

At the Club. He dresses like a girl.

Thanks. Phantom wasted no time in leaving.

He let the door smack the helmet on the way out. He paused to touch his mouth and scratch his cheek.

Whoa, it's you! A voice from across the street.

A woman with brilliant red hair stood up into a lazy mohawk was standing at a door propped open by a man twice her size, dressed up in a hooded, leather trench coat and ragged cargo pants.

It's business, Mozam. She held a hand up to him. She spoke with a southern twang. It was such an old accent, Phantom couldn’t remember the last time he heard it.

You should check out this new strain I got in. Come in! He moved to the side to keep the door open. She stepped inside.

She seemed out of place down here. Too good to be in this filth. She barely covered that toned body with clothing. Tiny shorts, small bra, and a sleeveless, hooded leather trench coat eerily similar to the man’s. She wore a mask shaped like a demon’s head complete with elegant horns swooping backwards. Skeletal eyes were pushed back to either side of her head, leaving the lower half to hide her face. She was even covered in tattoos that squirmed on her skin. Beautiful and deadly, Phantom stared at her until the door shut.

Phantom moved on down the street. He headed back through the slums, taking a different route to head straight for the Club.

The class difference came abruptly. Nearly as sudden as crossing the street, no one hung out on street corners unless they were looking for a quick buck. Stalls lined the streets as an open air market. Tables littered with goodies from across the galaxy from gadgets to food. On the surface, it looked like an area filled with tourists and lost souls. In reality, it was just a picking ground for thieves and robbers. A scream of fear, or agony was normal around here. People bursted into sprints at a moment's notice. The crowd came and went like a school of fish being attacked by dolphins.

The calmest area was at the heart of the station. One of the bigger buildings centered, with neon lights writing out Solstice Club that could be seen a mile away. At the foot of the dozen or so steps up to the doors was a pair of body guards nearly ten feet tall. One stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. If it weren't for all the weird scutes decorating his body, he could have been mistaken for human. The other was more hunched over, thick as a bear. Pierced canines, ears, and nose. He kept a grumpy appearance. A line in front of them stretched out and down the street, filled with people whining and complaining about the wait, hoping in vain that they would be let in eventually.

Phantom walked up the side of the line.

Look what the varmbus dragged in! The straight guard gave a toothy grin. Haven't seen you in a long time.

I'm looking for someone. Phantom stated.

An alpha hunter I assume? There's a few on the station right now. He waved his hand.

A few? I heard just one. He raised a brow.

Depends who you ask. Which one you looking for? The red head, or an armored one? The eldiravan held a hand out.

Phantom dug into one of his pockets to produce a piece of transparent glass. A few taps on the screen and he gave a swipe up. The guard pulled out one of his own to check and grinned. With the money now in his name, he offered off information for both.

I wouldn't tangle with Spectre if I were you. She's pretty for a human, but don't let that fool you. She'll show up in the club eventually. Can't miss her. An armored alpha, owned by Apex, just walked in about five minutes ago and I haven't seen him come out yet.

Thanks, Karkra. He put the device back in his pocket and headed up the stairs.

Good luck!

The music thumped from inside. Phantom was washed in black light. Living images on the wall, glowing various shades of greens, blues, and whites danced across the surfaces. Packed per the norm. Many stood shoulder to shoulder on the nearby dance floor. Others were gathered at tables, cheering and hollering. The quietest place would be the bar. There Phantom took a seat where the bartender was already setting down a glass for him.

He pulled his mask down around his chin and looked around the club. Everyone was dancing against each other. Enjoying their night as if it were their last. Through the crowd he spied someone who stuck out like a sore thumb. A large suit of armor. The weld marks on it shimmered with a pearlescent effect under the black light. The screaming, demonic skull painted on the arm reflected all of the light hitting it. The helmet that mimicked the branding was enough to give the alpha hunter away on its own. Broad curved horns were made from a series of plates and nearly too large to be practical. The silhouette of the famous muzzle alphas wore as punishment on the front of the helmet; a constant reminder of their place in the galaxy.

This alpha marched through the crowd without a care. Its prey had been picked out. He approached a table against the wall, filled with a few men and their scantily clad women filling the empty space between them. A pistol drawn from his hip, he fired a single shot through one of their heads.

The women shrieked. A few jumped up and ran through the crowd. A few other screams echoed over the thumping music. Those near the shot backed away.

The alpha leaned over the table, talking to one of the women. No. Phantom had to look closer to realize it was actually a man, dressed too much like a woman. Those at the table were petrified with the she-man barely spitting out answers to keep the alpha happy.

Just as quickly as the shot came, the rest of the club fell back into a peaceful state. Phantom sipped on his drink, watching as the alpha hunter used a knife to kill the men that remained at the table. Then he turned and left. He knocked a few women over on his way to the door.

With his drink done, he waved his hand at the bartender and stepped out. The alpha was already at the bottom of the stairs, sheathing his knife on his shoulder. The standard black and gray carbon fiber armor looked much dirtier out here in the bright lights of the city streets. Covered in scratches, and nicks, the armor was well used, barely cared for. The robotic canine at his side was in much better shape. Its smooth body was littered with cuts and scrapes, but it was clean and tended.

They rushed across the street and dipped into a dark alley.

It's always heartbreaking seeing a lone alpha, ain't it? Lucy asked, crossing her arms behind her back.

Why? Phantom grumbled.

Because it means they lost their partner! She huffed. She slipped around the corner first. They're all alone in this world. No one to share the burden of an endless, miserable life. They're stuck here and all they have to show for it is a life no one even knows exists.

Phantom pulled his mask up over his nose to hide the frown etching onto his face.

Ghosts. Just like us. She stopped directly in front of him.

He pushed right through, letting her form dissipate in the wind. She always spoke the truth, but it wasn't needed now. Not when those words made him think of her. How she, too, walked through the hellscape of war alone, blaming herself for all of the failures.

The alpha hunter boarded his ship. Phantom hurried to his own after getting a picture of the information he needed. While the alpha left Solstice, Phantom got his computer to hack into Apex's logs to see where the alpha plotted to go. Phantom would follow.

TWO

By time Phantom reached Candosie, the alpha was already off his own ship and deep within the colony. Primarily supporting eldiravan, moving around was going to be difficult. The eldiravan seemed to have respect for alpha hunters. They usually let them do their job without interference, helpful, or not, so they could leave as quickly as possible.

Their buildings appeared to have risen from the ground in sheets of metal. Minimalist designs brought on a rich and elegant dance of streets and courtyards. Where some would place trees, statues of their emperor decorated the courts. Purple and orange banners fluttered in the wind, hung from building corners and lampposts.

Not many paid him any mind. Some stepped out of his way as he rushed down the street. Just another alpha hunter on a mission. He caught the tail of the canine as it rounded the corner just ahead of him. He stopped at the corner and fixed his helmet so it blinded him. The display activated so he could see his surroundings for the moment.

There the alpha stood at the far end of an alley. In the dusk light, the shadows casted by the buildings darkened, making those within it easy to scan right over. Phantom found a way up to the rooftops by a ladder left out. Up there he had a better view of the alley below and was safely tucked out of sight.

Why would an alpha need to be all the way out here? He was waiting for something. Nearly an hour ticked by before four eldiravan walked down the alley from different ends. They converged in the middle, extending their greetings.

Do you have it? A white haired one asked. He had a face like a boar, with an under bite that made his lower canines poke out.

Of course I have it, idiot. A black haired one snapped. Are you sure you weren't followed?

Who the fuck would follow us out here? There is no reason to suspect.

I want my money.

Give me the drive and the Emperor will pay you well.

The black haired one growled and threw a fist up. I don't want the Emperor's good graces. I want the credits.

Show me the drive.

He dug into his pocket and held up a black thumb drive.

The alpha stepped out of the shadows. His dog leaped into the group, biting onto the arm that held the drive. The alpha fired a few rounds from his pistol, killing two of the eldiravan. He snatched the drive from its owner and smashed the butt end of the pistol into the other's face. The dog brought its eldiravan to the ground and jumped on his face.

Phantom jumped from the roof top. The alpha stood there, just a couple feet in front of him. He stared at him, confused that someone else had been there. Phantom's display shut off, keeping him blinded to his surroundings. All he had to go off now was hearing and touch.

He shoved his hand into the alpha's chest, knocking away the pistol. His other hand went for the drive. The alpha, quick to react, kicked his knee up, knocking the unarmored assailant back. Phantom went in a second time, only to receive a counter to each strike. He grabbed hold of the alpha's wrist, his other fist locked at waist level.

The armor alphas wore was a heavy variant of Olympian Armor; a walking tank. The armor was impenetrable under normal circumstances. Even high powered rail guns couldn't pierce through completely. Coupled with the powered exoskeleton, they had the strength of an elephant to back up each of their actions.

Phantom knew the weak spots. Under the arms, the groin, and the neck. He could even destroy the armor's battery, crippling the alpha completely.

He, instead, chose to play with his food. He enjoyed fighting the alphas. They were worth the extra sweat. Phantom jumped, lifted himself by the strength of his arms to shove both of his feet into the other's head. The alpha was forced backwards, letting go of him.

Phantom unsheathed the sword from his side, hurrying to the alpha as he got back up. The armored alpha barely had a chance to regain himself. He grabbed the sword, the hot plasma burning into the glove. A swift kick into Phantom's chest ripped the sword from the alpha's hand. Back to his feet, he charged in quick and from above. The plasma rod slammed into the alpha’s shoulder where it melted through.

The alpha swung, giving Phantom a chance to shove him further, spin and slam the sharp edge of the sword into the bend of his elbow. The flash drive dropped to the ground, just beneath the chin of a dead eldiravan.

The alpha threw all his tonnage into Phantom. Before he could even get back to his feet, the alpha was atop him, a double edged blade jutting from the top of his forearm. Phantom twisted and threw his fist out so his own blade could fly from his arm.

Metal and glass cracked. Fragments fell against Phantom's face. He was gritting his teeth, half his face covered in blood. The alpha's helmet above had been punctured in the side by Phantom's blade, half of it shattered on impact. Blood dripped down.

A hiss from the alpha echoed through the helmet.

Still have a brain in there? Phantom asked, twisting his arm.

The alpha's blade sheathed itself, letting him grab hold of the wolf skull. His head twisted, prying the blade out. Phantom swung the blade at the alpha, smashing into his shoulder. The alpha ignored the damage and stood. Phantom was brought with him, lifted up off the ground. He struggled by kicking the armor in the chest. The alpha ripped his helmet off in the attempt to hold him in place.

Phantom exhaled, brushing his hair back over the top of his head.

One chance. The alpha called. One chance to get the fuck out of here. I don't wanna fight you.

No. Phantom answered. It's the end of the line for one of us.

Just walk away, man.

Who are you?

Why do you care?

I don't.

He lowered his fists. Thought about his answer. They call me Spartan.

Spartan? They still throw that name around like it means something.

Spartan shrugged.

You don't even know who he was, do you?

Apparently, some beacon of hope. Hard to believe he was an alpha hunter. His hand, down at his side, shifted to briefly show his armored palm. Two fingers extended. None. Pinky. Thumb.

Phantom had caught it. Knew what it was for. His weight moved from one foot to the other. He twisted to throw his arm towards his rear just in time to shove it into the back of a robotic dog's mouth. The size of a dire wolf, its head mimicked Phantom's helmet in size. Big enough to swallow his head whole. He pushed his arm further in, keeping the dog from getting a full bite. Sword up, he shoved the blade down against the dog's back.

With a yelp, it let go only to go back in for another bite. Spartan took a swing at Phantom. Of all the alpha hunters he killed, not one of them had hand signals for their dog. They shared a neural link. External communication was never needed. He briefly suspected the fate of this alpha was recent. Undisciplined. Punished by life in a steel coffin.

He fought like Phantom. No reason to live. No fear of death. He went in hard with brute force aimed for ending the fight in one blow. He liked to be up close and personal where Phantom could not get full swings. The Alpha Killer found himself falling back on old muscle memory. He wasn't stronger because of that exoskeleton, but well placed shots would stop the armor.

Spartan brought out his knife, or rather a curved machete. Used it like an old soldier. This time the dog stayed in the fight. Aimed to bring Phantom down. Distract him so Spartan could land the killing blow.

Fucking do it! Spartan shouted. He slammed the sharp edge of the machete down repeatedly onto the sword. I know yer' only here to kill me! You don't give a fuck about anything else!

Phantom shoved him back and swung, only for the dog to bite his wrist and bring the sword arm down. He caught the machete with his free hand and shoved his knee into Spartan's side. Sword dropped, he yanked the machete free from its owner and stabbed it down while Spartan was still close.

Thunder rang out, piercing right through his ears. The machete made it just a few inches into the softer armor on the side of Spartan's neck and collar. The dog cried out, running around in a circle around them.

Spartan took a step back, reaching up to his neck. Phantom touched his waist where a strong burning sensation overpowered his nerves.

Spartan still had the pistol in his hand, the rails sparking with electricity.

Do it. Spartan repeated. End it.

You want to die? He hissed under his breath. The pain was starting to kick in.

No. I want to fuckin' live. It's why yer' still alive. Spartan threw a hand, the machete stuck in the armor. Why the fuck else you think yer' not fuckin' dead?! You think I wanna go on like this?! It's a fuckin' coffin. Kill me.

An ache in his chest made his heart skip a beat. It was weird being on the other side of that topic. Spartan spoke with a familiar southern twang, one he hadn't heard since he left Earth behind. Out here, earthly accents faded. Humans simply sounded human to him now. He rarely even heard his own native tongue and probably couldn't speak it anymore. Yet here was a perfect replica of some old accent he never realized he missed.

What are you going to do? Lucy asked. She stood right in front of Phantom, arms crossed over her chest.

He came here to do it. He followed Spartan from Solstice to Candosie. He wanted to kill Spartan simply for the fact he was an Apex dog. End the misery. Now he was second guessing it. It was just a title, this was not the real Spartan. It couldn't be. The original was dead. Killed a long time ago. This was just a fake. A pretender. Yet now when he looked at Spartan, pushing the dog down, he saw Lucy with her dog. That faithful canine that never left her side.

Fucking Christ. Phantom groaned. He scooped the flash drive from the ground and picked up his sword.

What are you doing? Spartan called after him.

Leaving. Get your shit together. He answered.

I need that drive.

Come and get it. He waved the drive over his shoulder. A hand on his waist to help stop some of the bleeding, he made his way through the colony and back to his ship. He couldn't do it. Just the thought of it twisted his stomach up. He couldn't do it to Lucy. How could he do it to someone who reminded him of her?

Pussy. Lucy pouted, nearly jogging to keep up with his pace.

Shut up. Phantom grumbled.

I would've done it.

Go away.

You don't actually want that!

You're not real. Phantom scratched at the side of his head.

I am as real as you make me. Yer' not dumb! I exist only here in yer' head. You want me gone, then let go.

THREE

Lunneiria was a small planet with the only inhabitants the ex-slaves of Apex and newly arrived criminals. A mining facility had been built over rich resource deposits. A couple of years in the past, Phantom found the facility and killed all of the Apex staff. It left the slaves with no purpose and no way out. They were stuck upon Lunneiria with no hope. They begged Phantom to stay. Some wished to repay him by working for him. Unless he destroyed the facility, Apex would simply return and take it over again. Convinced by Lucy that it would be smarter to use the resources for his own income, he stayed. The slaves declared him commander, and happily returned to work under better conditions. Phantom had no intention to stay for long periods, so he placed those he saw fit in charge. He even made new friends from Solstice, which he promptly hired to handle the facility like a business.

He intended to leave, but the income kept him there. He could afford just about everything he wanted and then some. The slaves were paid as employees, given their freedoms. He used his new resources to fund his exertions against Apex.

When Phantom arrived, he was greeted by the dock hands, with one immediately calling for a medic. He waved them off and kept walking. He held his side to help stop the bleeding. While he was sitting still on his ship, the bleeding ceased. With extra blood flow from moving around, the wound was pulled open again, staining his shirt with fresh blood.

He made his way to his own room. A luxurious apartment surrounded by windows to overlook the facility from high above. A boring door opened the way to an enormous entryway of an open-ended hall lined in plants and paintings. The living room fit two, possibly three full sized rooms in one open floor plan with an open conversation den looking out at the floor to ceiling tall windows that gave a view of the landscape beyond the facility and its drill. A second set of couches sat in front of a wall wide television. A sound system. A mid-sized bar between the kitchen and dining room. The original owner loved to entertain guests and often threw elaborate parties. The only bedroom was nearly as large as the living room. Sitting space and a few bookshelves. A second miniature bar. The best bed Phantom had ever known. It was like sleeping on a cloud. Far better than the rocks, or cots he was used to sleeping on. This was honestly the best place he had ever lived.

He never would have dreamed of this place in his past. A soldier's salary could only get dirt for housing. Now he almost felt like a king. There was only one thing he lacked.

Phantom grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Sat himself down in the den to kick his feet up on the table. He took his jacket off and laid it over the back of the couch. Glass poured, he kicked back and relaxed, looking out the window.

Should have killed him. Lucy's voice sang from the back of his mind.

He downed his glass in hopes it would drown out the ghost. He tossed the flash drive onto the table and stared at it. He had been caught up in the heat of the moment before. Hadn't even thought about the drive, or why it was important enough to send an alpha hunter after it. What information could eldiravan have that Apex would want? Spartan wouldn't let the mission sit as a failure. He must have already been on the edge of an execution if he was put in the armor.

He tapped two fingers against the table, then refilled his glass. A hologram projected from the center, interacting with his touch. Connected to his helmet, he accessed its video feed. Replayed it.

Spartan's armor was completely standard. Carbon nanotube, titanium, steel. The trademark hexagon-shaped scale pattern that Apex Corps was well known for. Black with gray accents. The alpha mark was not just burned into the arm of the armor, but painted over with a type of liquid that would reflect white under certain lighting conditions. It made it easy to identify who the alpha belonged to. It was completed with a QR code.

Something bugged him about that alpha. The old accent. The fighting in personal space.

A knock at the door broke his thoughts.

He called for whoever it was to come in. He didn't even budge from the couch.

A woman stepped in. A thin, white jacket and a gray skirt. A little red cross on her chest. She gave a smile and hurried from the door over to Phantom still sitting on the couch. He still watched the footage from his helmet, letting it loop on its own. He couldn't place the reason yet.

The woman sat down next to Phantom, placing a leather bag down on the table. She gasped at the sight of the wound. Opened the bag and set out a few things she needed right off the bat. She pulled his shirt up to clean away the blood and grime.

Why didn't you come straight to me? You didn't even try to stop the bleeding!

More important things to worry about. He grumbled around the rim of his glass.

Watching stupid videos is not more important than your health.

He hissed as she touched the wound. That's why you're here.

She rolled her eyes. It's the only reason you keep me around.

He put his hand on her thigh, grinning at her. It's not the only one.

She pushed his hand away. Not while you're wounded. She pulled out a thick syrette to inject micro sponges into the wound. That would plug it up and replace the lost flesh, letting him heal much quicker than without.

It's not like you to watch videos like this.

Something about him bugs me.

I assume he's dead, so it shouldn't worry you anymore.

No. He's alive. Probably. He shrugged.

You let one go?

He was quiet, sipping on the whiskey.

She sighed. Wrapped his waist up to keep the bandages in place. Rest up for a couple of weeks. Don't get into any fights until you're healed.

He waved her off.

Maybe I'll come by later. She packed up the bag.

Phantom turned the video off and looked out the window. Once the good doctor had left, he snatched the thumb drive from the table and headed over to the office where he could check out the contents. A fresh glass of whiskey poured. Drive in the port. It was filled to the brim with separate files. Individual video clips and pictures. Each one labeled with an acronym explaining the contents. Nothing he bothered to decipher. The contents said all that he needed. He let them play on the larger screen on the wall.

First a picture, one that must have been taken from someone's glasses. It showed a dimly lit room, a dirty floor covered in foul liquids. Blood stained pliers, mallet, and a gutting knife. Blood splattered and smeared. Something dragged, something clawing at the floor.

Then a short video clip, about thirty seconds long. A man, naked, strung up by his wrists. The camera had a view of his back, but managed to catch sight of the branding all alpha hunters bore. Two men stood behind him, one holding up a piece of paper, the other holding a whip. The one with the paper read aloud so the crowd could hear him.

Alpha hunter HF01-193-0594, you are charged with affiliation to the Black Wolves, conspiracy to assassinate the Council of the Order of the Hunters, and actively hiding your status as alpha hunter.

The man holding the whip proceeded to crack it across the alpha's back with the other man calling out the number each time. The video had briefly gone black once they reached five. When it came back, the man no longer counted, the alpha no longer showed signs of life.

The video ended. Phantom went to the next file. Another picture. Presumably of the alpha weeks later. Left hanging by his wrists, buzzards and crows perched upon his body.

If that was all this drive had, then it was nothing new. Nothing special. Phantom had expected there to be a secret that Apex could not let out. He went through each file, his curiosity waning. Basic alpha hunter treatment. Punishment. Abuse. Drill instructors, or commanding officers screaming and belittling them. Proof of the mindlessness of alpha hunters; some had been ordered to carry out tasks no right minded person would ever think of. They did it all, rape, murder, torture, because if they didn't, then they would suffer the same fate. Only they wouldn't be given the gift of death when it was over.

Each file seemed to get progressively worse. Brief clips of conversations of officials from not only Apex, but the Order. Plans to take more than what they deserved. Plans for better control and creating alphas. What got under his skin was one clip. Barely minutes long. Scientists discussing their current research in front of a series of hydrostasis pods. They mentioned their failures and even showed whoever had the secret camera, what was in one of the pods.

A naked man. Sound asleep. Wires and cables plugged into various parts of his body. A respirator over his nose and mouth.

It doesn't actually have to breathe, but it helps settle the shock when we wake them up. They're used to organic, primitive bodies. They don't know they're machines. One of the scientists explained.

In reality, they're clones. The other said. It's much easier if they don't know the truth. We've had many lose their minds. They have to be reset to an earlier stage when that happens.

There was something about the face of the sleeping clone that stayed with Phantom. Familiar. He paused the clip to better study it. Written on the pod was a five digit identifier: TK211. He couldn't place his finger on it. Someone he knew? Maybe. At some point it could have been, back in the war, or the one before that. Before he ever left Earth. It felt like he were looking at a reflection, but couldn't remember who was on the other side.

The next series of videos and pictures were of this cloning facility, or another. Rows of hydrostasis pods from floor to ceiling. Each one labeled, with some of them repeating. Each successful awakening landed an alpha hunter in a set of armor that was sealed around them. Some of them were used as demonstrations for control. Someone with a controller in their hands showed off just how easy it was to move a machine body from a distance, no matter what the mind inside wanted. It was a new form of torture.

Alpha hunters were not known to show, or even feel fear, yet Phantom could see it in their faces and eyes. The helplessness. The lack of power. No longer controlling their destiny. They even showed just how easy it was to kill one of them in the armor if they had to. Electrifying the synthetic brain was a favorite method. It took a long time, leaving a hunk of metal contorting and twisting on the floor for several minutes before finally ceasing all twitches.

Screenshots of emails, messages, recordings of phone calls. Apex was offering up alpha hunters to anyone who could afford them. Using them as a bargaining tool to win favors with the eldiravan. Apex was quite determined to befriend the eldiravan.

That must have been why those eldiravan spies were involved. Perhaps they had gathered this information. There was something cruel and ironic about an alpha hunter being tasked with stealing this information back. Sealing not only his own fate, but the fate of fellow alphas.

I thought we stopped this. Lucy said, sitting on the edge of the desk. We destroyed the entire server room.

You were never good at thinking ahead. Phantom leaned back in the chair. They could have had a backup.

What are you going to do now?

I don't have to do anything.

Bullshit! She glared at him.

It's just like you to sit back and do nothing, said a masculine voice from behind him. A thick, Russian accent. Even when all of your achievements burn down around you.

Phantom looked over his shoulder. A man he thought he would never see again. The sight of that hellaciously scarred face made his chest burn.

You would rather sit and wait to die, wouldn't you, boy?

Those piercing blue eyes of Phantom's stared up at the screen while the videos continued to play. Why should he get involved? Why should he care? Any reason he had to died longer ago than he could remember.

What if I'm out there?! Lucy cried, pointing up to the screen.

Then maybe you have a better life.

A better life?! She gasped so hard she coughed. You think I'd want to be sealed inside of some metal coffin, controlled by God knows who?! To live in a cage?! We fought to escape that!

It's no use, pup, The man said, waving his hand. He won't listen to you, to me or anyone for that matter. He's already dead. He's already forgotten you. Like you never meant anything to him at all.

Shut up! Phantom snapped. Like you ever knew a damned thing!

Oh, I knew everything about you. Every dirty little detail. He got in Phantom's face. The cold stare of those blue eyes pierced through him. Keep pretending everything is fine, like it has nothing to do with you at all. You aren't really what you say you are anyway, right? Why should you care about the family you made?

You never actually cared, did you? Lucy asked, stepping in closer. You're just a liar. A fake. You'd rather see all of us suffer just like you. Just like we already did.

Come on, Sergei said, grinning down at him. Do something. The door is right there. It's your choice. It may be the only choice you get to make for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life, but at least you have that option.

Get out of my head. Phantom growled.

You've always been so selfish. I wasted so much time on the man you used to be, the man I thought you could be. Lucy shook her head.

You should have killed her if you actually cared. Sergei shrugged. Just like I told you to.

Phantom threw the glass at Sergei.

The man whipped away through the wind. The glass shattered against the television, but not before cracking the screen like a spider web. The display artifacted, showing a series of solid, colored bars before glitching and freezing on the still image of a woman's hand laying in a pool of blood, the Black Wolf's sigil, a wolf's head, painted on the floor with that blood.

FOUR

Phantom dropped down into the pilot's seat with a groan. He rubbed the side of his face, smearing blood across the skin and stubble. He hit the button to shut the bay doors and kick on the main engine. A sharp pain from the back of his shoulder made him cringe. It would have to wait. While he may not have been in a hurry, he hated lingering at the site of his onslaught. Being on the move was safer, better.

This time it just happened to be a ship at the wrong place at the wrong time. An Apex exploratory vessel. The A.X. Atheena. They assumed he was a friendly alpha hunter in need of medical assistance, but when they allowed a connection, they were met with the ruthless wrath of a monster. A man who only understood vengeance. The ship was primarily comprised of scientists and researchers, with a single fire team for protection. Just normal hunters. Youthful little brats playing soldiers. When everyone was dead, he left his signature on the back wall of the bridge; a hand print in blood. Something minimal that let them know this was the work of the Phantom.

Funny how he got the name. Given by a soldier who was in the fight with him. His territory, his job to kill the invading enemies. At that time he was just a number. A faceless, nameless beast. He did as he was told because he knew nothing else. According to those who saw him kill, they claimed his acts were personal. Directed at something. Silent as a ghost, they only knew how he destroyed his enemies. Word spread like a wildfire, and before long he was picked out of the crowd of fellow lookalike numbers by a bloodied hand print on his chest plate. The Phantom was feared by the enemy as a legend who appeared, destroyed, then vanished with only a hand print left behind.

It felt good to be noticed. To be named. He had forgotten what it was like to feel real and alive. Still, it was a hollow sensation. Like a drug, he needed more each time. It wasn't the fame he wanted. He was just a ghost after all. He wanted to feel alive.

Phantom reached behind himself to dig his fingers into the open wound in the back of his shoulder. What a lucky shot. He hissed, snatched the bottle of Jack from under the console, and took a few big gulps.

With the course set and autopilot on, Phantom focused on the wound. The pain drowned in alcohol. He used his knife to cut the little wound open enough for two of his fingers to fit inside. He gritted his teeth through the searing pain. The end of the round was pinched by his nails. Then the bullet was dropped to the floor. He downed more of his drink and leaned back in the seat.

Out here the silence was unbearable. The fuzz of white noise coupled with the endless expanse of blackness roared through his head. Each little click and whir of the machinery around him tickled the hair on his body. Alone in the coldness, he was out of place. A lost, neglected tool. The alcohol was a trade of demons. His past screamed in his ear, or the endless pit of despair dragged him down.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shut his eyes. He wanted to put himself somewhere else. Anywhere, but here where he felt like he was the only one. For such a damaged mind, he found no peaceful place. He was thrown into a concrete room with the only source of light coming from the crack under the door hidden in the ever reaching darkness.

Bound and gagged, the only thing he could do was sleep.

He woke in a cold sweat there in the pilot's seat. His body stiff and sore. He groaned while the ship beeped. He arrived at his destination. An asteroid with an Apex facility built into it. Used only for prisoners of war, or traitors. If someone found their way there, they would live out the rest of their days in a literal hell. Tortured and tormented until their inevitable end.

Something tells me you ain't gonna turn yourself in. Lucy said, sitting on the console.

No. He scratched his cheek.

You don't have to do any of this. She lit a cigarette between her teeth. You could go home and live the rest of your life without having to fight anymore. You're free.

It's not really living. There's nothing there. No one there. He snatched out the bottle of Jack, staring through the screen at the prison ahead. A battlefield looked more inviting. Besides, you never liked the idea yourself.

There's still a difference. I have no choice. Lucy shook her head. You do. You could have gotten out at any point. You still can! Yet all you do is fight and hate and target pointless things because you can't see the bigger picture. You could make a difference if only you'd see the potential I do. You destroy a prison, you've only done them a favor. You have to destroy the source. The brain of the operations. Didn't you learn anything from those bastards?

Two more ships, nearly identical to his, arrived on the far side of the station. They stayed in place, following the asteroid. Phantom stood from the pilot's seat.

You have the most powerful weapon you've ever had in your hands. Lucy said to him, not even moving from her placement. Are you really just going to let it fade out of existence, or are you going to take the opportunity to do the right thing for once?

As the other ships moved in, Phantom turned the autopilot on to keep his own steady.

Like you ever knew the difference. He rolled his eyes. Opened the bay door, and jumped out.

His helmet on, he kept the cameras activated so he could fly down to the outer walkways. They actually had guards scattered around, who were focusing on the two ships on the other side. Maybe they did not notice him there. Unfortunately for them, they had no exterior guns and small arms were worthless against even small fighters like these. Phantom suspected those alphas would make for a great distraction. Take some focus off him to ensure he was able to kill everyone he came across.

Once inside, Phantom was met with a small force of four praetorians. All of which were cut open by his sword. The alarms were blaring overhead. The halls flashed red. He rushed through, letting no one leave his sight alive. Doors were kicked in. Windows busted. Praetorians were sent for him, to cut him off and capture him dead or alive. Yet their forces seemed small. The alphas on the other side must have been the bigger threat. With two ships, there were at least four, each with a robotic dog. One alpha would have been a handful for them.

When Phantom made it down to