Legacy v4517

LEGACY by Thomas Heasman-Hunt

COPYRIGHT

First published in the United Kingdom 20th March 2017 by Cynefin Road Legacy Copyright© Thomas Heasman-Hunt 2016 All Rights Reserved. Cover Images Copyright © Cynefin Road 2016 All Rights Reserved. The author has exercised his legal and moral rights. Legacy is a work of fiction and any similarities to persons or events depicted are coincidental (and somewhat unlikely until the EM Drive is functioning or CERN open a portal to a parallel world). The author suffered from hot legs during the publication process but was otherwise unharmed. Cynefin Road is a small, independent publishing house and a champion of Copyright, so thank you for buying an authorised edition of this book and refusing to feed the pirates (not the rum loving kind) by copying, scanning, or otherwise distributing this brilliant tale without permission. It also means you’ll steer clear of the long arm of the law and without you being a goody two-shoes, we wouldn’t be able to bring you amazing things to read. Writers deserve your and ours, so give yourself a pat on the back for doing something wonderful and enjoy the story. Knowing you’ve read this small print makes us happy enough to throw some

shapes while nobody’s watching. We hope you have a nice day, wish you multiple lottery wins, and want you to find infinite joy wherever life’s rich journey may take you. First Electronic Edition ISBN 978-0-9957637-8-4

For Emma. Obviously.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I began writing with no particular plan and the story simply took me where it wanted to go. The characters who grew did so organically, often showing up and demanding attention, though it's no coincidence their nature reflects my own value system. Representation matters, and I hope you come to be as fond of them as I am. Legacy started life as six serialised short stories, chronicling the interstellar adventures of Emily Ajax and the episodic structure reflects these humble beginnings. THH.

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF CAPTAIN ROBERT AJAX

“I, Captain Robert Ajax, being of sound mind and body…blah blah…you know how these things go. I hate recording them, but my lawyer tells me I have to do it every year – whatever that means here in deep space – to for time dilation. So here it is, for what it’s worth, my latest last will and testament. Maybe this’ll be the one that matters. Maybe I’ll switch things up, just for the hell of it this time. I mean, what difference does it make? Everyone I care about already has everything they ever wanted; I made sure of that. What’s the point in being the most famous man in the galaxy if you can’t provide for your nearest and dearest? I’m not one for leaving things behind. What’s the point of having a legacy if you’re not around to see people use it? “So. Here’s all I have to say, about everything: I’m Captain Ajax. Privateer, adventurer, war hero. I saved the Four Quadrants, as you all know. There’s a statue of me on Lumina that I’m sure you’ve seen. They got my moustache wrong, but I guess it’s not important. There are only a few people who know the whole story about my adventures. Patrick. Dracon, of course. Like me, they’ll take it to their graves, I’m certain of that. I suppose, looking back, my motivations, my reasons, aren’t important. We made a better galaxy. We saved humanity. What more can you ask from a life? Ever since I was stuck on that freighter, crawling through the outer reaches of that miserable system I was born in, I’ve just wanted to make a difference. Well, I did that, and then some. I changed the universe. We all did. Is that my legacy? Is that what I leave behind? “No. I only leave one thing behind, and that’s her. My heir. My daughter. I was a hero for the whole galaxy, but not for her. I should have been there when she was growing up. I should have done right by her, but I didn’t. I was a crummy dad, and a worse role-model. Thankfully, she’s too smart to make the same mistakes I did. I hope she stays in Osiris where she belongs, with all the comforts the long peace I helped win has brought her. I don’t want her flying across space, risking

life and limb in strange gravity wells, always wondering whether she’ll overload her tidal drive and blow her ship to pieces. That’s no life. Gravity: it brings us together, and it rips us apart. That’s an old saying, I think, or maybe I just made it up. “It’s all for her. It has to be. Everything that’s mine must go to her, to Emily, to make a better life than I made. That must sound ridiculous, given everything I’ve achieved, and I hope she never comes to understand what I mean. I hope she never finds out what my real legacy to her, and the rest of humankind, was. That’s what I really want to give her: peace, and a life without the kinds of horrors I’ve faced. Or better yet, a peace built on a stronger foundation than the one we laid. I think someone else will need to be responsible for that though. My adventuring days are long behind me. “Ah, listen to all this rambling! This isn’t a will! Interface: delete all previ… wait, no…this should be honest. This, if nothing else, should be the truth. Let it stand. Everything goes to Emily. Everything. This is important. “Interface: save document. Seal with retinal scan.”

ONE

“I don’t understand why this is so important to you, Emily...” Kit spun the good luck charm he carried everywhere with him on the table and the movements sparked holographic flashes on its smooth surface. The charm had originally been a link in a suit of body armour worn by a Meccite warrior-hulk and, to hear Kit tell it, he’d actually ripped it from it in the heat of battle. Emily had been there and knew perfectly well the guns were long-silent by the time the pampered boy had started picking his way through the bodies of the slain for anything which might make an interesting trophy. It was an appropriate ju-ju for him to be fiddling with though – the end of the Meccite Wars had come shortly after, their preferred methods of warfare rendered obsolete by the refinement of the mono-mass railgun. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could still hear the crackle of elctrostatic and the whistle of exotic matter toroids as they hurtled through the air and sliced through armour which now seemed an antique. “It matters,” she explained, “because what’s mine is mine.” Kit smiled. He was a handsome, youthful-appearing man with a floppy fringe of sparkling hair, eyes he’d had surgically mismatched and, when he grinned his boyish grin like that, subdermal holo-patterns shimmered across his cheeks. He gestured around the big sitting room. “Don’t you have everything you could ever want though? You’re the richest woman in the system.” “In the Quadrant,” she corrected. “But that isn’t the point. I don’t want my inheritance because of what it is, I want it because of what it represents.” She stood up abruptly and stalked across the room to a panoramic window which took up most of one vast wall. Her holographic interface attempted to keep up with her, momentarily surrounding her in a cloud of swirling semi-transparent portholes, but she absent-mindedly dismissed it with a wave and the glowing shapes folded themselves neatly into the device on her wrist. She stood at the glass, looking out at the familiar view of Osiris Prime, the world which had been her home for over two centuries. From this high orbit, the surface of the gas giant was a gently-curving sea of swirling orange clouds. The lights of the

mining facilities high in the stratosphere winked at her. Even now, their tethers would be descending to the lower atmospheric layers to claim the bounty of the clouds for the Cartels. Above the mottled ocean currently hung two of the inhabited moons, almost totally black in the darkness of space except for the webs of silver light. Roads, vast refinery complexes, and spaceports. Behind them, stretching into infinity, the star-speckled magnificence of the cosmos. From here, the Darkstar Nebula was visible as an angry red bruise at the extreme left of the sky, and the galactic disc was a bright band of light slashing the heavens in two. She had visited over five-hundred inhabited systems, seen many times that number of worlds, observed the disc from every vantage in known space, but this was still her favourite view of them all. This was where she had grown up, where her mother’s family had lived for generations; citizen of the galaxy though she might be, this orbital was the closest thing she had to a homeworld. She put one hand on the glass and watched a blocky ore freighter disengage from the nearest mining platform and heave its megaton bulk into orbit with a blue burst of thrusters. “Emily?” Kit was by her side. He’d been her friend for decades now. He was half a century her junior, and not nearly as well-travelled and wise as he thought himself, but she found his company agreeable. “All my life,” she said, “I’ve been given everything I could ever want. I was his daughter. Everyone knew me. Growing up, my face was splashed across every network node, my life was dissected by every holo-reporter in the galaxy. I’ve lived in the public eye, so much so I don’t feel like anything really belongs to me – not even myself.” “I thought you liked the attention.” She smiled ruefully. “I won’t pretend I haven’t used it to my advantage now and then, but that’s not my point. What I’m trying to say is...well, that I was given everything. I never had to work.” She nodded down at Osiris Prime. “I never laboured on a mining ship. I never even served on a battlecruiser or so much as waited a table in my life.” “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, of course it is. You think I want to be down there refining liquid lithium? But nothing’s mine. It was all his.” “Your father’s,” Kit said. He had a bad habit of stating the obvious – he wasn’t too bright, but he was charming (and rich) enough to fake it. “Yes. My father’s.” Her father loomed over everything about her. How could he not? He loomed over the entire galaxy. He was a titan. The story of how a humble privateer captain had risen to become one of the Free Planets’ greatest heroes was a long and complicated one. By the time Emily had been born it had already been written so she learned it as history like everyone else, until the charming, understated man who appeared intermittently in her life to shower her with affection and gifts seemed totally divorced from the god-among-men who had changed the course of human history. The man she read about in the holo-archives was not only a ruthless and gifted ship commander, but also a master diplomat, a skilled warrior, and a peerless leader of men. In his era much of the galaxy had been a lawless place, a patchwork of petty realms ruled over by lords and kings little better than brigands. He had been a ray of light in a dark universe, a cowboy captain in the finest tradition of space exploration. A charmer of women – like her mother – and a two-fisted hero who brawled his way from bars bolted to the surface of cold asteroids, to the courts of emperors. He’d captained one ship at first, The Sunskimmer, a refitted freighter with an overclocked engine and an overgunned prow. And with just that ship, he’d toppled despotic regimes, halted invasion fleets, saved a hundred worlds from destruction or enslavement. The Free Planets had been a spent force when he’d begun it, but by endorsing and aiding his activities, he’d restored order and peace to the galaxy. Or so the history books said. “Captain Ajax,” she said. “Not my father. Not really. I mean, he was, but I never met that man. Even when he took me with him. By then, it was all in the past, Kit. He was just touring the places he’d saved, the all-conquering hero returning to the scene of his greatest triumphs to be showered in glory again.” “Showered is right – the blossom on Eris?” Emily smiled at the memory. The Erisians had spent a decade actually

chemically altering the climate of their planet so, when she visited with her father, the gooja trees rained delicate blossom petals the whole time they were there – some months. It must’ve taken them a long time to put things right, but it had been awe-inspiringly beautiful. She ed the streets of their shining capital with its spires piercing the pink sky and the carpet of flowers they had to wade through, and still more floating down from the twisted branches of the great trees, until it seemed like the air was full of dancing fairy wings. At sunset, as the horizon turned vibrant blue, they turned translucent in the light and it was like gliding through an ocean of spectral gossamer. “By then, he was just an old man in a uniform which barely fit him,” she said sadly. “So what does that have to do with any of this?” She looked at him sharply. He could be very dense sometimes. “The whole galaxy thought they owned my father, Kit, but I’m his only child. And now...now he’s dead. And a thousand worlds are flying black flags in mourning. But he was my father. They can keep their Captain Ajax; I didn’t know him.” “But it’s one moon...” She slammed her fist against the glass in fury. There was no risk she would damage it – like the rest of the orbital facility, it was covered in enough magnetic shielding to repel a cruiser-mounted antiphoton cannon. “It was his moon. His home. When he was done gallivanting through the stars, saving princesses and scouring the Darkstar Raiders out of their nests, that’s where he came back to. Not here, where he left me: there, on a bare moon, half a Quadrant away.” “Is it true he won it playing praxian squares with the Crown-Prince of New Odin?” “So he always said. Who knows now? New Odin hasn’t been habitable in two generations. The history books say what they say. All I know is, it was his place. And he was my father.” “You have to it though,” Kit said diplomatically, “the Free Planets have a claim on a lot of the facilities and equipment there. It was either theirs to begin with, or he claimed it while carrying out missions on their behalf.” “He was a privateer. A free man. Why do you think he died a captain? If he’d been enlisted in Spacefleet, he’d have been iral Ajax two centuries ago.”

“I know, but...” “A free man! Free to claim his own bounty! Free to confiscate the assets of enemy vessels as he saw fit! This is written into the very charter of the Free Planets!” It was an argument she’d been having with everyone she knew for weeks now. Kit knew it all as well as she did, but she couldn’t leave this alone. “Captain Ajax, my father, was a privateer with a contract of service to the government of the Free Planets. He revolutionised warfare, he changed the destiny of the Four Quadrants, he amassed a fortune greater than almost anyone else in history. He was a legend and a hero, but they never owned him. He was his own man. And that moon is a monument to his success. It’s where he built his home, where he kept all the mementoes and keepsakes of his adventures. It was his place. And I’m his daughter: his only living heir. All that was his, he bequeathed to me. It’s encoded into his personal archives, Kit, sealed with his own retina scan. The Free Planets want to renege on an agreement as ancient as interstellar travel. He was a privateer.” “But you aren’t,” Kit told her gently, “and are you going to risk a war to fight the very government your father helped to preserve?” Emily stared out at the writhing surface of Osiris Prime, another huge freighter gliding slowly down to the near platform. She was wealthy and powerful, thanks to her father. How many of the Cartels in this system would rally to her if she decided to press her claim against the Free Planets? Some, perhaps. Maybe even most. But when it came to actual fighting, there were only a handful of them she’d want to rely on. Her name carried weight across the stars, but she wasn’t her father, and she’d never led fleets into battle. And, like Kit, they’d say it was only one moon. She had a dozen moons already. What was one more jewel in the fabulous crown of a spoiled princess? But it wasn’t about the moon. It was about her father. Like everything. Even in death, he loomed over her. She rested her head against the glass and closed her eyes.

***

Roland’s World was a tiny speck of nothing on the edge of the Anubis Expanse, just halfway across the sector from Osiris. It was little more than a bare rock, with almost nothing to recommend it except for a sky constantly streaked by multi-hued dust clouds of the Expanse, great nebulae rising in columns light years high, constantly lit by the slow explosions of stellar birth in their impenetrable cores. Emily’s ship slowed to subluminal speeds, appearing to burst from nowhere close to the surface of the cold red sun into which Roland’s World was slowly spiralling in its aeons-long orbital decay. No one knew who Roland had been now. It was just what the place was called. The only reason anyone had ever heard of this desolate corner of the galaxy was because the stellar density made it an excellent staging point for fleet movements. A hundred battles had been born in amongst the threaded clouds of star stuff and Roland’s World, a moon-sized body locked in the embrace of an ancient, dying sun was the only substantial planet for a dozen light years. It was therefore orbited by hundreds of installations of various sizes, from dockyards to defence platforms and hab-satellites. It was pure military though: an austere and far-flung outpost of the Free Planets’ vast interstellar navy, the Spacefleet. The Osirian ship which had brought her here wasn’t much more than a pleasure frigate, dwarfed by the battleships docked in orbit of Roland’s World. Her father had supposedly ushered in an era of peace, but you’d never know it from looking at the huge dreadnoughts and battlecruisers hanging against the backdrop of the gorgeous nebula. Emily stood on the bridge, her arms folded, watching the fleet yards glide past through the ship’s holoscreen. The captain was a humble man who knew his business, and he hadn’t objected to giving her the run of the craft. She’d probably spent more time in deep space than him anyway and travelled on ships far more advanced than this little cutter. The menacing prow of one cruiser loomed to port as they were directed into their dock by the facility’s computers, a mile-wide forest of bristling weaponry jutting out: sufficient firepower to scour an inhabited world down to the bedrock. Maintenance craft swarmed across the hull like worker bees, each of them the size of sub-orbital airtram but dwarfed by

perspective. A ship that large must require a crew of thousands. What enemy remained at large in the galaxy capable of standing against it? The usual checks were waived for Emily as she boarded the spacedock – her name was all the clearance she required – and she strode through the gleaming corridors with her friend Jilly in tow. Kit had been unable to travel with her, which was probably a good thing since he’d have been less than useless in a meeting like this. No, stolid, reliable Jilly was a much better companion. She was the daughter of one of the wealthiest Cartel owners in Osiris, and they were both dressed in the fashion of the Osirian nobility – simple pants and tunic in greys and browns, not dissimilar in principle to the workers’ overalls. Of course, Emily supplemented her plain outfit with a few adornments from her personal collection. An ancient Jovian diamond on her lapel, created by the crushing pressures in the heart of a gas giant; a bracelet hung with charms taken from the cultures of a dozen distant planets including a minute tail feather of the extinct H’shan, preserved for eternity in a miniaturised stasis field, and a Phoenician mind prism which occasionally threw out multi-coloured flashes of light in response to the mood of the wearer. But most valuable of all, if not openly displayed, was a gift from her father: a priceless relic of the Darkstar Wars. It was a simple thing. An antique data chip hanging around her neck on a fine platinum chain, currently tucked discreetly into her collar. It was important though. Vitally important. They walked into the conference room, a dome-shaped chamber at the top of this section of the facility. The roof was transparent, offering an awe-inspiring view of the nebula. As if on cue, a pulse of light throbbed almost directly above them, sending flashes. An atmospheric electrical storm through clouds which slowly cycled from red to purple to blue as they watched. The only other occupant of the room was a blank-faced clone, a legal clerk, sitting at the head of the long table, who bowed gently when they entered. Emily looked around, then turned to Jilly angrily. “This is outrageous,” she said, “there’s no one here!” “Relax,” her friend told her. “He’s keeping me waiting on purpose. Letting me know who’s in control.” “Well this is his station, Emily.”

“So? My father made him the man he is! He at least owes me the dignity of...” The door on the opposite side of the room swished open and the clerk rose to bow to the man who entered. Emily turned smoothly and put on her most diplomatic facial expression. “Lord iral,” she said, trying hard not to clench her teeth. Lord iral Dracon, one of the most decorated officers in Spacefleet, the foremost weapons development expert in the Free Planets, and hero of a hundred battles, cut a rather dashing figure, somewhat at odds with the warm smile he gave her. “Emily! My dear!” He crossed over to her, stepping around the clerk, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her in a fatherly way. “Why so formal?” “Sorry...Uncle...it’s been a while. I wasn’t sure...” “Nonsense. What’s half a century to people like us? And is this Jilly? I almost didn’t recognise you.” “I told her she shouldn’t straighten her hair,” Emily said with a rueful glance in her friend’s direction. “Ah, that must be it,” Dracon smiled, “how are your parents?” “Well when I left, sir,” Jilly said, keeping her tone even. “Let’s sit,” he said, gesturing for them to take their places at the table. They sat on one side, he on the other, with the clerk between them. Like all clones he was unassuming and androgynous, but he had a mass of circuitry built into the back of his skull and down his spine; additional archive banks for his complex work. That meant he was a specialist in interstellar disputes, a notoriously tricky legal area thanks to the vagaries of relativistic space travel. Contracts could be confusing when neither side can even agree on the definition of ‘now’. Dracon ran his hands down a neatly-trimmed goatee. His hair and beard were both silvery grey, an affectation since, after four-hundred years of life, he could choose to look however he wished. He was wearing his Spacefleet uniform with the golden knots of rank displayed openly on the tunic’s chest and a crimson collar which indicated his specialisation in research. “Now, I hope we can solve this amicably, Emily.”

“So do I, Uncle. I’m sure you’ve reviewed my claim.” “I have.” He placed his palm against the surface of the conference table and the prepared holo-documents ghosted across the surface, a window automatically spinning its way to each of them, except the clerk who of course would have the entire contents memorised already. “And you still dispute it?” Dracon leant back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “This is a complicated situation.” “How so?” “Your father was technically a privateer.” “Exactly. And, like all private individuals, he is free to distribute his assets as he sees fit. A copy of his will is on record in the Spacefleet archives. He has ed all his worldly goods on to me, his daughter and heir. I don’t even know why we’re having this meeting.” “The contents of Troja are not his to, as you say, ‘distribute’, Emily.” Troja was the name of his moon. Her moon, now. “Did they not belong to my father, Captain Ajax?” “Yes...” “And, again, I refer you to the will.” She glanced at the clerk. “That’s what it says, doesn’t it? Everything that was his is now mine, correct?” The clerk’s eyes flashed as he accessed his electronic archives. “The wording of the relevant document is quite clear,” he said in a toneless voice. “Exactly. So give me what’s mine, Dracon.” The Lord iral pursed his lips. His fingers drummed gently on the tabletop. “What’s yours. Yes, indeed. Here is the thing, Miss Ajax, the issue of ‘ownership’ when it comes to the activities of privateers is always complicated. Ordinarily disputes of this kind are easily resolved but in the case of your father,

thanks to his service to the Free Planets over the centuries, we are in a quandary.” “Which is?” “You can’t have that moon.” Emily threw her hands in the air. “This is absurd! He left it to me!” “It doesn’t belong to him.” “His retina scan is on the deeds!” She looked at the clerk again. “Yes?” He silently nodded his assent and she raised her eyebrows and held out a hand to Dracon, daring him to gainsay the simple facts with which he’d been presented. “How well did you know your father, Emily?” She blinked, surprised at the sudden change of subject. “What does that mean?” “It’s a simple question. How well did you know him?” “He was my father.” “But he was over two-hundred when you were born. And how often did you see him?” “I travelled the galaxy with him...” “For a few decades. He was an intermittent presence in your life though, isn’t that right?” “What are you getting at, Dracon?” He leant forward and jabbed his finger against the table to punctuate his point, sending flashes of holo- across its surface each time he made . “I fought by his side for hundreds of years. I was his Executive Officer aboard The Sunskimmer, assigned by the Free Planets in defiance of his formal protest at the presence of a military observer on his bridge. We spent most of those early voyages at each other’s throats.” “I know the stories, Uncle...”

“Do you? Do you know what it’s like to have a relationship like that? We were battle brothers, Emily. We saved each other’s lives more times than either of us cared to count. I hauled him from the heart of a collapsing star, only a pressure suit between me and oblivion. He strangled a Yelvian jackal-warrior with his bare hands and performed field surgery on me while we were under heavy fire. You may know the stories, but you weren’t there. How could you have been when you weren’t even born? I knew that man. I loved that man. I know he was your father, but I was his XO. I sat beside him on the bridge, I commanded in his absence. First I won his respect, then the respect of his crew. We were inseparable for almost our entire careers. Together, we won back the stars for civilisation. He’s the reason I’m an iral.” Emily looked into his eyes. She’d known this man since she was a child and she was all too aware of the bond he’d shared with her father. There was a sadness deep within him she’d never noticed before and she ed that he too was in mourning. He had also lost a member of his family. But it didn’t change the facts. “An iral,” she mused aloud. “While he was just a captain till the day he died. Because he was a privateer, with a contract. A contract you now intend to ignore.” “Emily...” “His will is clear. What was his is now mine.” “But he never planned to die the way he did!” “Who plans to die?” she demanded incredulously. “If anyone did,” Dracon replied softly, “it was Captain Ajax. If anyone deserved to choose the manner and moment of their end, it was that man. But he didn’t. An accident took him from us. A simple plasma discharge. It could’ve happened to anyone. But it had to happen to him. He once freefell through the iridescent corona of a neutron star to board Kyle Blackheart’s flagship and survived the explosion of an Arcana-Temple on Bakka IV. I’ve seen that man seemingly come back from the dead a dozen times, and he dies in a console overload? It seems absurd.” “The fact is he’s dead,” Emily told him disionately. “And he wanted me to have his moon.”

“No.” Dracon slammed his fist into the table, sending holo-images spinning wildly. The clerk looked almost alarmed. “His will is one thing, but I knew his mind. Troja must be confiscated by Spacefleet. That is what he would have wanted, Emily.” Jilly leant across the table. “Why? What’s so important about it?” Emily was glad she’d brought her along – her keen mind always cut to the heart of the matter. “Spacefleet protects its assets,” Dracon answered mildly. “Ajax was given that moon by us. The deeds might say he’s the owner, but Troja and its contents are rightfully the property of the Free Planets now he’s deceased.” “Absurd,” Emily spat. “The will is very explicit.” “I’m aware of that. It’s why I hoped I might be able to appeal to your better nature. Your father understood that sometimes it was necessary to bend the rules. It was what we clashed about most often.” “Yes,” she said, “he believed in doing what was right no matter the cost.” She tugged on the platinum chain around her neck and pulled the data chip free. Dracon’s eyes went wide when he saw it. “Look familiar?” He said nothing for a moment, just stared at the chip, but then managed to recover the power of speech. “Where did you get that?” His voice was strained. “A gift. From my father. Maybe you didn’t know him so well after all?” “That...should be somewhere safe...” “It is.” She tucked it back into her collar and patted her chest where it hung. “Don’t worry – I know what you went through to get hold of it. And it’s as safely encrypted as it ever was. I can’t access the contents and I stopped trying decades ago.” His face took on a strangled expression. “You tried to access it? Girl, do you have any idea how dangerous...” “I already told you I know what it is,” she snapped. “Schematics for a doomsday weapon, stolen from Blackheart’s flagship. He told me all about it. How the

Darkstar Raiders chased you halfway across the galaxy to try and get it back, how you led them into a trap in the Reaches of Irdan and decimated their entire fleet. You saved the galaxy that day.” “If it was to fall into the wrong hands,” Dracon said, pointing at her chest. “The consequences...well...I don’t have to spell it out, I hope.” “It’s encrypted. Relax. But if he gave it to me, what makes you think he’d want to keep some worthless moon out of my hands? I know you two were close. I’m not disputing that. But he was my father and I just want what’s mine by right. It’s my moon, Uncle. Just let me have it.” “I can’t, Emily. The government of the Free Planets takes matters of territory very seriously. The moon is ours.” “It’s one moon!” She looked helplessly at Jilly and then the clerk. “Exactly,” Dracon said. “Why does it matter to you?” “I could ask you the same question.” She stood up. “I think this conversation is over. It was nice to see you again, Uncle.” “Emily, wait...” She was already sweeping out of the room, but the sound of his footsteps behind her caused her to turn. He reached out and grabbed her arm. “You have my answer, Dracon,” she said, pulling herself free. “Emily, please, we both loved your father. I consider you as much a part of my family as I considered him. For goodness’ sake, you played with my daughters growing up...” Emily ed Dracon’s dull-witted progeny – boring girls, like their mother. Dracon had married far below his station. “This isn’t about you,” she told him. “I know. But, for me. For your father. Don’t pursue this.” “Why not?” “Because Spacefleet has authorised me to use whatever force is necessary to

keep you away from Troja.” She laughed. “You’d fire on me? Emily Ajax, the daughter of the Free Planets’ most renowned hero, a free citizen of the Southern Quadrant? Have you any idea what the political ramifications would be?” “Don’t overestimate your importance, Emily. You’re not your father.” “No, but I am my father’s daughter. Like it or not, right is on my side. Bring your fleet, Lord iral. We’ll see who stands on Troja when the antiphotons settle.” Ignoring his continued cries for her to listen, she stalked out of the room with Jilly right behind her. The other woman raced to catch up. “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “No, I’m the only sane person left in the universe it seems.” The corridor followed the curving edge of the station module and the lozenge-shaped windows along its outer wall gave a vantage across the spacedock, the many spindly arms stretching out against the iridescent backdrop of the Anubis Expanse where hundreds of mighty warships were docked. “Look out there!” Jilly said. Emily glanced out nonchalantly without stopping. “What?” “They could take on the galaxy with this fleet! Why are you antagonising them?” She snorted. “Dracon won’t fire on me. You heard him – he thinks of me as family.” “But if he has orders...” “Orders don’t mean a thing in the face of what’s right. My father taught him that. He knows he’s beaten, or he wouldn’t be threatening me.” She patted the data chip reassuringly. “When he saw this, he understood the stakes.” “Is that really the chip from the Darkstar Wars?”

“Of course. You think I’d come here with a copy?” “That would have been more...logical...” Emily laughed loudly, causing a service clone to shy away from them as he ed silently by. “My father had a lot to say about so-called ‘logic’. I play the game the same way he did, Jilly.” “This isn’t a game,” her friend warned, her eyes flitting out of the windows as they walked past them. She was obviously worried about all the ships out there. “Everything’s in hand, Jilly. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” They were nearly at the airlock when Emily’s wrist chimed. Frowning slightly, she activated her interface. “What is it?” Jilly asked. Emily read the glowing missive in the palm of her hand and her frown deepened. “It’s from Kit.” “Is he okay?” “He says he’s got a surprise for me...” “That sounds...worrying.” “His surprises usually are. He says to meet him back in Osiris, in orbit of the star.” “What do you think he’s planning?” “I have no idea. But this doesn’t sound like one of his usual jokes.” She closed the interface and proceeded to the airlock with a thoughtful look on her face.

TWO

Emily hated waiting for anything, and especially for a loafer like Kit. She stood on the bridge of her personal yacht, a small subluminal craft she used to tour the planets and orbital facilities of Osiris, visiting the homes of her friends. On the wide holoscreen, the twin suns of the Osiris system hung against the dark of space. Osiris Prime was nothing more than another twinkling star from this distance, and the mighty red giant of Osiris itself took up most of the panorama. Its smaller brother, hot blue Horus, orbited relatively close by, and a spectral chain of glowing plasma threaded between them where its mass was siphoned off by the gravitational forces of the larger star. The legend went that one of the first human interstellar travellers, who had come to a similar star system in an ancient sleeper ship, had seen just such a view and had been inspired to develop the tidal drive which changed the course of human history. No one could say whether that story was true or not – if it ever happened, any more details were long ago lost to the deep past – but witnessing such celestial forces at work was always impressive. Emily wished she was able to concentrate on it. They’d only been back in Osiris for a few days and her continued entreaties to the Free Planets were still being ignored. It seemed like Dracon’s word was final in this matter. She didn’t know what to do. All her wealth, all her influence, was nothing compared to the might of the legitimate government of this part of space. “Where is he?” she demanded of Jilly, who was once more by her side. “How should I know?” the woman shrugged. “And why did he ask me to bring everyone?” The yacht was packed to the gunwales with her friends, the gang of several hundred wealthy scions of Osiris along with their staff and retinues. “I’m not in the mood for a surprise party.” “Ma’am,” one of the ship’s crew said. “Forgive my interruption, but the scanners

are picking something up.” She turned to him with a sour expression on his face. “Picking what up?” “A ship, ma’am, entering the system.” She turned back to the holoscreen and squinted at the red surface of Osiris. Ships dropped out of transluminal flight near the edges of stars, and she waited for the tell-tale flash of light which heralded such an arrival. Nothing happened. “Crewman?” she demanded. “I’m...I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, looking helplessly down at his console, “but the sensors definitely picked up...” “Emily!” Jilly grabbed her friend’s arm as something appeared on the holoscreen right in front of them. There was a distortion, like a mirage, and then, suddenly, there was another ship there. The bridge exploded in a hubbub as the crew started trying to bring up the magnetic shielding and arm the yacht’s meagre weaponry. Only Emily remained calm. She walked slowly towards the screen, not taking her eyes off the vessel. She knew that ship. Knew it as well as she knew her own face. It was small, a frigate really, but its prow bristled with weaponry and its engines were grotesquely oversized. Its s were corroded and patched, and scorch-marks from hundreds of fights were still etched into its hull. But it was still the most beautiful ship she’d ever seen. Jilly’s mouth was wide. “That’s...” “The Sunskimmer,” Emily breathed, “my father’s ship. And the only ship in the galaxy with a working Meccite cloaking device. No wonder we couldn’t see it.” “But it was mothballed years ago. What’s it doing here?” “We’re getting a transmission, ma’am,” a crewman said. “Patch it to the ‘screen.” Emily felt a girlish delight at seeing the old ship and she didn’t want it to disappear from view, but she also had to know what was going on. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Kit’s grinning face popping up at that moment. “Kit?!” “Hey, Emily!”

“Wh...what’s going on?” He patted the console in front of him and flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Oh, this is the surprise I talked about.” “Some surprise! That’s my father’s ship!” “I know. I thought you might like it.” “But...but how?” “Oh, I have an old friend who works at the fleet yards at Commora. He owed me a favour and, well, let’s say I made it worth his while.” The way he waggled his eyebrows told Emily everything she needed to know. “So you dragged The Sunskimmer out of storage? That’s absurd!” His boyish face creased into a mock frown. “Don’t you like it?” “I do but...they’ll come looking for it, won’t they? What am I supposed to do with it?” “Ah, see, this is only part of the surprise. Why don’t you come aboard and we’ll talk about the rest?” “Are you serious?” “Sure. Bring everyone over. It’ll be fun.” Trying to corral a few hundred spoiled kids was no easy task, but finally they got everyone ferried over to The Sunskimmer in shuttles and Emily made her way to the bridge with Jilly and a few of her closest friends. Walking through the ship was like coming home. She’d played here when she was a child. Her father had eventually commanded an entire fleet, but he’d still liked to use The Sunskimmer as his flagship occasionally. It was really a privateer’s ship, a trading frigate, albeit one outfitted for dealing with the most hostile corners of the galaxy, so when the dark days of war came it wasn’t practical to use it. Instead he’d captained one of the great Spacefleet cruisers, with names now preserved for the ages: The Titan, The Hellhammer, The Victorious Blade. But The Sunskimmer, the battered old frigate with which he’d criss-crossed the Four

Quadrants, was his ship. They’d voyaged together in it as adults, toured the galaxy, dined together in its observation lounge. She had a room here. Oh, it was a little rundown now, in need of a new coat of paint and a bit of modernisation, but it was still the same legendary ship. She ran her hand across the walls of the corridor, ing. The doors to the bridge opened with a slight creak and she stepped back into her past. Kit stood up from her father’s chair immediately and held out his hands like he’d just performed a magic trick. He was using his personal staff and a few friends for crew. It was a miracle they’d managed to get the ship here at all. “You...” she said. “Me,” he nodded. She ran across the bridge and embraced him. When they parted, she looked around, wide-eyed. “I can’t believe you brought me this.” “Me neither, to be honest.” “So what now?” “Well...I was thinking about what you said, about the moon. Troja, isn’t it?” “Yes.” Just thinking about it darkened her mood again. “It’s on the far side of the Darkstar Nebula, right? On the other side of the Quadrant?” “That’s right.” “And I thought, what’s to stop us just, you know, going there and taking it ourselves.” She laughed. “A thousand things, Kit! It’d take months just to reach it, and the Free Planets probably have a fleet on the way already.” “That’s what I thought. But then, I ed this ship.” “This ship...” She looked around. Jilly and the few friends she’d brought up here were staring everywhere with a mixture of awe and confusion. They were used

to much nicer vessels than this, but everyone knew The Sunskimmer. Just standing on his bridge was an honour. “What did your father used to say? That she could hug the event horizon of a black hole and still come out in one piece?” “He said that...” “But isn’t it what they did in the Darkstar Wars? They were the first ship to ever successfully navigate the nebula, bouncing from black hole to black hole. Right?” “Sure, but that was a long time ago. It was a different age.” She stood by her father’s chair, running her hand across the worn leather. “The Sunskimmer can do it though. This is the only ship that can cross the Darkstar Nebula. We’d be at Troja in days.” She turned sharply to look at him. His innocent face was alight with the gleam of hope. This was an adventure, like the kind he’d always wanted. A foolish, impulsive adventure. “Let me get this straight, Kit. You got my father’s ship out of storage, brought it here, and now you want me to fly it to Troja, testing its centuries-old tidal drive to the limit by performing a stunt which was suicidally risky even when it was new, in order to set up camp on a moon on the edge of space and wait for the entire Spacefleet to show up to take it from us?” “Yes.” “Do you know a crew foolhardy enough to do something like that?” He held out his arms. “Us.” “Us?” “Your friends. That’s why I asked you to bring them. We’ll be the crew.” “Osirian nobles?” “Why not?”

“Because...because...” She stared around. This bridge, on this ship. Her father’s ship. How many times had she wished she’d been there when he’d been having his adventures? Dracon’s words had stung, even if she hadn’t shown it. She hadn’t been alive to see her father in his prime. She’d never known that man who he’d later become, the statesman, the old rogue. She wanted this. Stars help her, but she wanted it. “We’re willing to follow you,” Kit said. “To the ends of space.” “Follow me...” “Have a seat, Captain Ajax.” She looked down. That chair. It didn’t matter that Kit had been sitting there. This was important. She turned around and slowly eased herself into it. The captain’s chair. Her father’s chair. Now her chair. It felt good. “Yes,” she whispered to herself, “this is the answer.” “Are we on?” Kit asked eagerly. “We’re on. Let’s go and get my moon.” Kit was hovering expectantly. “We...uh...still need to decide a few things. Like who’s going to be your XO, for one.” It was obvious what he wanted. But this wasn’t a game, even if that was clearly how he thought of it. “You brought me this ship, Kit, and I can never thank you enough for it. But my father did what he did with an XO by his side who questioned his gut instincts with logic at every turn. That’s what I need. I’m the captain now, and I intend to learn from the best, and that was the last captain of this ship.” She turned. “Jilly?” The woman looked startled. “Me?” “Think you’re up to the job?” “Well...I don’t know...” “What kind of an answer is that?”

“Will you listen to me?” “Of course. captain’s prerogative though.” “What does that mean?” “It means I get to ignore you if I want to.” Jilly sighed. “I see now where you got your attitude from.” She walked around the rail which ran around the back of the bridge and took the seat beside Emily’s. “My first act as XO is to formally protest this ridiculous mission. It’s too dangerous and there’s a good chance we could all be horribly killed.” “Noted. Kit, take the helm. Send out a ship-wide transmission – explain what we’re doing, and tell anyone who doesn’t want to have an adventure to get back to my yacht. We depart in an hour.” “Yes, sir,” Kit said, sitting down at the helm station. He’d looked a little crestfallen she’d picked Jilly instead of him, but he’d get over it soon enough. Jilly was the right choice. Emily leant back in the chair and ran her hands along the arms. The leather was cracked and old, the back creaked when she put her weight on it, but it was still the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. “What happens when we get to Troja?” Jilly asked. “That’s up to iral Dracon, isn’t it?” she smiled.

***

The Darkstar Nebula was the most dangerous region of space in the Quadrant – or maybe even the whole galaxy. It was a vast red dust cloud three-hundred light years across, gathered together by the implacable gravitational pull of hundreds of black holes. No one understood how such a phenomenon had occurred. Scientists theorised that some ancient civilisation might have somehow destroyed the stars millennia ago, leaving behind only shadowy ruins. In the nebula, planets and asteroid fields were lost in the darkness, silently orbiting the cold, black stars. It had become a haven for a race of renegades, the ruthless Darkstar Raiders. For a thousand years, they’d waged war on the Free Planets, taking away slaves from colonies and asteroid bases. Her father had discovered their fate: they were being used by the self-appointed emperor of the Darkstars, Kyle Blackheart, to build a super-weapon in orbit of the largest of the black holes, the monster around which the rest rotated. No one knew what it would do – her father had stolen the plans before it was completed – but it was surely catastrophically powerful. The black hole’s gravity would have powered its eventual function, or so the scientists who had disassembled it afterwards had surmised. The very power of the Darkstar Nebula, somehow harnessed and used to destroy or enslave the Free Planets. This was what her father, Captain Ajax – the first Captain Ajax, Emily mentally corrected – had done. That’s why he was a hero. “The plan, such as it is, is pretty simple,” Jilly explained. The holoscreen was filled with maps and readouts as she pointed. A few of her friends had left for the yacht when they’d announced their intentions, but no one she’d miss. Now the remainder were busy being assigned duties on The Sunskimmer. It was going to be a rude awakening for the pampered rich kids, but she was confident they’d rise to the occasion. “The Darkstar Nebula has always been thought of as unnavigable because of the gravity distortions caused by the black holes,” Jilly continued, “Plus, even if a ship was to try using them to travel at transluminal speeds, just a slight miscalculation could strand it forever in the event horizon. That’s why tidal drives are only used to journey between stars. If this goes wrong, we’ll be trapped in a relativistic nowhen, watching as the entire universe

dies around us in the blink of an eye.” She gave Emily a significant look. “Yes, yes. But The Sunskimmer can do it. It’s done it before.” Jilly sighed. “The flight plan from that mission is still in the computer. Of course, it was three-hundred years ago, and the nebula will be different now. I think we can adapt it though. We jump from Osiris right into the nebula.” Kit looked shocked. “We’re going straight in?” “It’s the only way to do it,” Jilly explained, waving her hand to manipulate the holoscreen and bringing up a graph of some simulation she’d run. “We have to be going really, really fast to pull this off. That’s how your father did it, Emi...uh...Captain. He couldn’t risk dropping to subluminal speeds because of the Darkstar Raiders. Of course, we don’t have to worry about them, and we do have the cloaking device, but slingshotting the whole way is really the only way we can hope to do it because of the gravitational shear in the nebula. No one except the Raiders ever knew how to navigate the eddies, which is one of the reasons they remained a threat for so long. Staying at transluminal speed is safer than dropping out, bizarrely.” “So,” Emily summarised, “we hurl ourselves towards the nebula as fast as possible, and bounce from black hole to black hole, then come flying out the other side?” “Pretty much. We finish up in orbit of Holman’s Star. Troja is in that system.” She clapped her hands. “Perfect.” “How fast do we have to be going?” Kit asked, looking from Jilly to her. “Very fast,” Jilly said. “Probably faster than anyone’s ever gone before. Your father survived by dumb luck – no offence – and even if we followed his exact flight plan, with everything how it was three centuries ago, ninety-nine times out of a hundred he and his crew would have had their molecules scattered halfway across the Quadrant. To get this right, we need to be going in hot when we hit the first black hole.” “Makes sense to me. Can the ship do it?”

Jilly lifted her hands in helpless resignation. “We don’t exactly have a lot of experienced engineers on board. Tarq likes to tinker, and Boloo is a physicist, but that’s really about it. I can do the math, but anything could happen. This is an old ship.” “Which is part of the adventure,” Emily said. “Enter the flight plan. Let’s do this before we all wake up and realise what a bad idea it is.” Jilly shook her head and took the XO’s chair again. The yacht was long gone, now they were alone in orbit of Osiris. The information on the holoscreen disappeared, leaving them with an unadorned view of the blazing red giant. The plasma swirled and gushed far below them. She pointed. “Take us into the corona, Kit. And make it close. We need to charge the tidal drive to beyond capacity to pull this off.” The principle was simple. Emily had done it a thousand times, although never quite like this. Every object in the universe was connected by a complex web of gravity, like threads pulling at the surface of spacetime, creating a tension which was perceived as an attractive force by creatures of three-dimensional space, like humans. A ship with tidal drive could use its physical momentum while orbiting a star to harness the power of the Coriolis effect, tapping into the gravitational network which spanned light years and, by precisely shifting vector, shunt that cosmic power into its engines to effectively skim across space at transluminal velocity. It required incredibly complex calculations, such that much of a ship’s computing power was dedicated exclusively to the required processing, and upto-the-nanosecond sensor data from the star. For the celestial bodies at the destination, it was necessary to rely on charts, modified to for predictable alterations in position, vector and mass. The limits of such predictions imposed proportionate limits on how easily a ship could traverse the void, creating natural routes between star systems. Anything outside of these well-charted paths relied on a series of white-knuckle jumps in quick succession, with even a minor error resulting in a blind hurtle into oblivion or an overdrive which would scatter their atoms across a system. Their plan was to bounce between black holes in the Darkstar Nebula, going straight into orbit and acceleration around each in turn, so they’d barely spend any time at all at subluminal speed. Jilly had calculated that the trip – normally one which would take months as ships navigated around the nebula – could be achieved within five days. But, in order to do it, they had to be going fast to ensure their nonrelativistic momentum was great enough at each black hole to avoid having to

slow down and risk destruction in the nebula itself. It was a huge risk, worthy of Captain Ajax of The Sunskimmer. They plunged down towards Osiris, until the boiling plasma of the star filled the entire holoscreen. Naturally the sensors used to generate the image filtered the light, but as they got closer and closer, they reached the limit. Many captains preferred to fly blind, turning off the ‘screen and relying on readouts from their interfaces. Emily was like her father though: she liked to be able to see where she was going, trusting to her gut. As they swooped down, Kit levelled out their trajectory, so now they were flying across the surface of the sun. The magnetic shields rippled in the corona – the keel of the ship would be quite the lightshow. Ordinarily, they might have used the cloaking device, but it would drain power from the engines they’d sorely need. Anyone could see them, but no one would ever guess what they were up to. “Increase thruster speed,” Emily ordered. She felt the surge as the ship began to accelerate. The horizon of Osiris stretched ahead of them, unnaturally huge. Columns of superheated plasma, tens of thousands of miles high, burst from the turbulent surface, threatening to engulf them. The shields were designed for exactly this so there was no real risk unless they suffered a direct hit, but they’d still be pushing the limits here. “Faster,” she hissed, leaning forward in the chair. Kit sighed as he pushed the engines even further. They were skimming the photosphere now, dipping slightly in the gravity. “Keep her steady,” she warned. They levelled off, gliding smoothly as they continued to pick up momentum from the gravity well. “The tidal drive’s charging,” Halib told her from the sensor station. “Keep an eye on it,” Emily replied, “let me know when we’re at capacity.” In a larger, newer ship, so much of this process was automated. Jump points were crowded with traffic and spacedocks and it was enough to submit a flight plan and press a button. Sit back and the ship would do the rest, aided by the computers in the orbital facility who’d haul you out of trouble if something went wrong. But Osiris was relatively remote, and most of its trading was intrasystem. Out here, it was just the ship and the sun. They sped along the corona, and Emily could feel the ship begin to shake as the force was harnessed by its oversized engines. At the rear of The Sunskimmer,

the twin engine pods would be beginning to glow from the charge. They were too big for the hull. Her father had built this ship to have a ridiculous mass/power ratio, so it would be as fast as the physics of his time allowed. No one had yet managed to improve on the design. “We’re approaching critical charge levels,” Halib said. “Hold her, Kit,” Emily said, her voice still level. The whole bridge was starting to vibrate now, and there was interference on the screen as the sensors began to fail. Jilly gripped the arms of her chair and exchanged a nervous glance with Emily. She threw a smile back at her friend. Kit kept his fingers on the console, holding the thrusters at maximum. A red warning light began to flash, but he ignored it. The surface of the star cycled below them, faster and faster, until it was just a bright blur beneath them. Plasma storms ghosted past, vast supercharged eruptions powerful enough to swallow an entire world, reduced to nothing more than sensor echoes in their wake. “Captain,” Kit said, “the engines are starting to give out.” “Hold her,” Emily said through gritted teeth. She was gripping the arms of her chair too now, but she was leant forward, almost rising to her feet. The floor was shaking and she could hear the hull buckle under the heat and the strain. “But we can’t...” “Hold her.” The horizon melded into a band of white hot fire beneath a black void. There was no longer any sense of forward movement. The ship was being buffeted by the tidal forces now, and she could feel it rock from side to side through the structural fields whichheld it together. “Captain,” Halib shouted, having to raise her voice above the din of the trembling walls, ceiling and floor, “we are now at full tidal charge!” “Hold her, Kit!” Emily bellowed. She was on her feet, riding the heaving floor with a surety which surprised even her. She clenched her fists as they pushed onwards, picking up even more speed. The engines must be as bright as Osiris itself now, trailing a great hydrogen wake of their own as they desperately vented plasma.

“Emily,” Jilly said, “we have to...” She held up her hand. “Not yet. We’re going to go faster than anyone has gone before. On my mark, Kit, and not before.” “Emily...” She ignored her friend and Executive Officer, just watched the screen, waiting for the moment when it felt right. The whole bridge was shaking now, and the ship screamed. The magnetic shields failed with a shimmer of green-blue light and the heat from the sun was suddenly free to penetrate their hull. In just a few seconds, they’d burn up like a cinder. She raised a finger...waiting...waiting... The nebula was ahead. She could just see the reddish smear over the indistinct horizon. As the floor began to steam and the sweat poured from her forehead, she pointed straight ahead. “NOW!” Kit pulled them up and, as their direction changed and they lifted out of the gravity well, all of the power stored into the glowing engines was forced back into The Sunskimmer and was instantly converted into forward momentum. There was a brilliant flash of light, and they crashed through the light barrier into transluminal velocity. The others on the bridge whooped as the shields came back online and the ship began coasting through space. Kit sank back into his chair, putting his hands across his face. “I didn’t think we were going to make it there!” he said. “That was a close one,” Jilly agreed. Emily crossed to Kit’s console and pressed a few buttons. The holoscreen showed nothing but black – at relativistic speeds, it was impossible for the sensors to pick up any useful signals. The only thing they could detect was the approach of another gravity well. Emily examined the data on the display. “Reading relative velocity at 22,000c,” she announced calmly. Kit stared down at the console in disbelief. “22,000c? Are you serious?” “That’s a record,” Jilly said. “According to the archives, no ship has ever broken 21,000c before.” “Who set that record?” Emily asked.

Jilly smiled slightly. “Your father.” “I thought so.” She walked back to the chair. Even though the screen showed nothing, she still stared straight ahead. “Get ready,” she told the bridge crew, “the first black hole is going to be coming up soon. That’s when things get really dangerous.”

THREE

Troja. She’d never actually been there. It was just a rock at the end of space, a desolate moon on the far side of the Quadrant, as distant from civilisation as it was possible to be. Her father, a deep space privateer, was always most at home in the black so it was no wonder that this was where he’d chosen to settle. It was months away by any conventional means – if a fleet had been despatched the moment news of Captain Ajax’s death had reached the Free Planets’ parliament, they’d still be weeks away. The Sunskimmer burst into the corona of Holman’s Star, an unassuming yellow dwarf, with a characteristic flash of blue light. Emily smiled as Kit guided them out into space and clasped her hands in front of her. “Three-hundred-fifty light years in four days. Even my father might have been impressed by that.” Jilly shook her head. “I’m just realigning our computer with a neutrino beacon to confirm it.” “It doesn’t matter how long it took,” Emily said dismissively as she stood up and peered at the holoscreen, searching for any sign of their destination in the starscape. “This is important, Captain,” Jilly said, “when travelling a relativistic speed, time dilation can do strange things. And the faster we go, the worse the effects are. Ah, as I thought – we lost about a day.” Emily turned to her. “What?” “We’ve been gone five days, not four, at least according to the nearest beacon.” She rotated the holo-display in the air. “See? The beacons never lie.” “Well, never mind. It was four days for us. When this is all over, we’ll give the archives access to our computer logs. I have a feeling I’m going to be famous for more than being someone’s daughter.”

“Maybe,” Jilly said. She entered some commands into her interface, and the holoscreen lit up with annotations, telling her what stars she could see, how far away they were, how this region of space fit into the known galaxy. “Troja is orbiting the largest gas giant. We should be able to get there in a few hours.” “Take us to the moon, Kit,” Emily ordered. It was even bleaker than she’d imagined. Her father had witnessed the greatest wonders of the galaxy, seen sights few humans ever witnessed. He’d dived through supernovas, braved the crushing heart of a neutron star, skimmed the edge of rainbow nebulae and plunged into exploding moons. He’d stood on worlds where the sky rained fire, or where rivers of liquid cobalt made aquamarine trails through gleaming mountains of pure diamond. He’d eaten extinct animals with queens and gotten drunk with moisture farmers on desert worlds scoured by the heat of five suns. Why, after all that, would he choose to make his home here? Troja itself was tiny, not even large enough to be regularly shaped. It was pitted with craters and bulged lumpenly on one side. The gas giant was a pale, mottled green, with only a very faint ring system. Its other moons were equally unremarkable. As she rode a shuttle down to the surface with Kit and Jilly, she couldn’t help but feel a vague sense of disappointment. Watching through the screens, the sun’s pale light filtered out onto an almost colourless system. Four gas giants, innumerable moons and asteroids, none with any atmosphere to speak of. No inhabitants. Just one of a million such empty solar systems spread across the galaxy. Why pick this one? Why come here at all? “This place is depressing,” Kit said, echoing her thoughts. “Why did you want it again?” “Because it’s mine.” The complex on the surface had a small shuttle pad. Everything was automated, and she had her father’s codes to access the system. They ed through the airlock and into the hab modules beyond. A gravity net kept things comfortable inside, but the air was musty and cold. Emily led the way through featureless, modular corridors. It was grey and dull. There weren’t even any windows. “He grew up in a place like this,” she told the others, more to break the silence than anything else.

“Yikes,” Kit said, “no wonder he went into space.” Emily smiled. “He lived out in the Kavian oort cloud actually, going from icy rock to icy rock in an old subluminal freighter. I’m sure it was just like this inside. He told me that every year or two, a comet would near enough to be able to land on it and mine something they could sell to the traders in-system.” “How did they get back from the oort cloud?” Jilly asked. “They didn’t,” Emily shrugged. “His ancestors were indentured workers and prisoners, sent out there to work until they died. The ship they lived in would have taken a hundred years to get to the star, not that there was much point without tidal drive. They were destined to live their whole lives out there, in the darkness.” “Grim,” Kit said. “I know.” They came to an intersection and Emily consulted the holo-map of the facility before picking the correct direction. “He stowed away on a freighter heading in-system when they docked. He left everything he knew behind – he was a fugitive with nothing at all.” “So you think he built this place to remind him of home or something?” Kit asked as he ducked underneath a low hanging cross beam. “I have no idea.” Emily stopped at a door. “This is the main hab-dome,” she announced before keying in the code on the terminal built into the wall. The doors opened with a hiss and they walked into an ordinary-looking sitting room. There were no windows here either – just gunmetal grey walls. It looked precisely like the interior of any other asteroid base. The creature comforts were few and meagre: battered chairs, a poorly-stocked kitchenette off to one side, an antique computer system with a cracked display. A quick search of the ading rooms revealed a messy bedroom with a sagging mattress on the bed and a basic bathroom. And that seemed to be all. Kit rummaged in one of the kitchen cupboards, pulled out a tin of desiccated synth-meat and put it down on the counter a little more firmly than was absolutely necessary. The expression on his face said it all, but he spoke anyway. “This,” he said, “was not worth travelling across a Quadrant and risking our lives for.”

Emily looked around at the bleak room and somehow found herself smiling. The smile turned into a chuckle, and then a laugh, and soon she was struggling to hold back the tears as she bent double. “Are you okay?” Jilly asked. “Yes, yes,” Emily said, wiping her eyes. “I just can’t believe we came all this way for this.” “It’s not funny,” Kit said, but he was smiling too. “We almost died!” Emily laughed. “I sat in that chair and gave commands like a starship captain and...and...all we have to show for it is...is this horrible little room!” She howled with laughter. Kit was laughing too, and Jilly started to crack up. She shook her head. “I suppose it is a bit funny...” “Look at this place!” Emily said, kicking the old computer. “My father, the space hero, the great liberator. He could have had any palace in the galaxy, and this is where he chose to spend his time.” “Maybe he just wanted things to be simple,” Jilly said, still smiling as she picked through some data chips on a side table. Kit crossed back into the living area. “There’s simple and there’s horrible. What’s the plan Emily?” “Hell if I know,” she said, shaking her head and throwing her hands up. “We came all this way, we might as well see if there’s anything here worth taking back with us. Any souvenirs or mementos or anything.” “Hey, did you turn that computer on?” Jilly asked, pointing. “What? Oh, it must have come out of standby when I kicked it.” She knelt down and looked at the old terminal. The emitter was dusty and the holographic projection was coming out fragmented. She gave it a wipe with the edge of her tunic and it resolved itself into a fairly archaic interface. A message icon rotated slowly in the centre.

“Someone sent him something,” Kit said. “Not him,” Emily murmured. “This was only sent a few weeks ago. He was already dead by then.” “Could be a mistake...” Jilly suggested. “I don’t think so.” Emily flicked the icon and a familiar face popped up. “Emily,” Lord iral Dracon said through the holo-display, “if you’re receiving this message, you reached Troja before the fleet, in which case I assume you were able to get hold of a fast ship and got there by some reckless means. You’re your father’s daughter, like you said.” “That makes no sense,” Jilly said, “of course we’d be there before him if...” “Shhh,” Emily interrupted, “he’s still talking.” “It’s my duty to inform you that, as soon as you left Roland’s World, I was given orders to proceed as fast as possible to Troja in order to confiscate it for the Free Planets, as we discussed. You saw our new fleet at dock, and I’m sure you saw how advanced the weapons systems looked. Well, those aren’t the only upgrades. For some decades now, Spacefleet has been working on a new kind of tidal drive so that we can bring peace and prosperity to the entire galaxy. You should know that our ETA at Holman’s Star is eighteen standard days from the date of this transmission.” “Eighteen days!” Kit’s eyes were wide. “When we arrive, Emily, my orders are to destroy any ship we find in orbit of Troja. Then we will land troops to secure the facility. If you’re alive, you and any companions you have with you will be taken into custody. I’m sorry it’s come to this and I hope, for both our sake’s, you never get this message.” The display went dark and Emily stared at it blankly. “Eighteen days,” Kit said again. “We did it in four,” Emily said as she stood up. “A new drive. It all makes sense now. The Free Planets is cementing its influence across the Four Quadrants, trying to unite the human race just like my father always planned. No wonder

they were building such a powerful fleet.” “Emily,” Jilly said, “that was sent seventeen days ago. We need to get out of here.” She nodded. “Let’s look around quickly and...” Her own interface started to chime and she tapped her wrist irritably to bring up the display. “Yes?” Halib’s worried face peered out at her. “Captain? We just detected a fleet of ships entering the system. They’re big, and heavily armed.” “That can’t be...wait...” She frowned. “Eighteen days?” “No, it’s only been seventeen,” Jilly insisted, “my interface says...oh...” “The day we lost,” Emily guessed. “Halib, engage the cloaking device right now! Get out of orbit so they can’t detect you!” “But, Captain, what about...” “Do it!” She shut off her interface. “They’re coming, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the idea of going to prison.” “So what do we do?” Kit asked. “Find somewhere to hide.” “Are you kidding?” Jilly asked. “They’ll scour the whole facility!” “This place looked bigger from orbit than these four rooms. There must be storage for supplies, or at least a nook we can hide in somewhere. If there’s no ship to find, they won’t waste time looking for us. We just have to wait them out, then signal The Sunskimmer again when they’re gone.” “What about the shuttle?” Jilly asked. “They’ll find it on the pad.” “We’ll have to launch it remotely.” Kit looked worried. “Uh...won’t we be stranded here then?” “It’s our only chance.”

They sent the shuttle out into space, clearing the moon’s gravity well and setting it adrift in the void. It might be possible to reclaim it if they got back to The Sunskimmer, but detecting it would be hard since they’d cut the power off. To any ship’s sensor, it would seem to be just a small chunk of random debris, cold and inert. As they waited for the fleet to arrive, they conducted a more thorough search of the complex. As Emily had suspected, most of the other domes were given over to storage. More cans of desiccated food, enough water for several years, piles of spare fuel cells. It was almost built for a siege, but Emily didn’t relish the idea of trying to withstand one today. The weapons locker was fully stocked too, and she considered arming the three of them with railguns, but three untrained rich kids against an entire Spacefleet platoon didn’t feel like good odds to her. If they were found, it’d be better to just give up before anyone got hurt. “Those ships are still a few hours away,” Jilly assured her as their search for a hiding place got more desperate. “It took us a few hours in an old ship,” Emily said, “who knows who much more advanced their subluminal engines are? They could be here any moment.” They reached the door to the last dome and Emily was surprised when it didn’t open right away. They’d only had to enter a code at the first entrance and that should have given them access to the whole facility. She banged her fist against the doors. “What’s wrong with this thing? There isn’t even a terminal!” “It must be keyed to something else,” Jilly guessed. “Like what?” “Thumbprint, retina, maybe even DNA. Who knows?” Emily looked at the door. It was the same as all the others – grey and blank. But there was something behind it that no one wanted discovered. Something that needed to be protected. “Jilly, do you when you asked Dracon why he wanted this moon?” “Vividly.” “I think the answer to that question is behind this door.” “Then it’s a shame we can’t get to it,” Kit said.

“There must be something we can do.” She looked around the corridor, then spotted a small port in the wall at about waist height. She ducked down and looked into it. Something gleamed in the darkness of the deep alcove. “What is that?” she murmured. She angled her head down until she could see what it was, and then recoiled slightly. “What is it?” Jilly asked, leaning down beside her. “It’s a needle.” “A needle? I don’t understand.” “Me neither...” She reached in, and then cried out as something clamped shut around her wrist. “Help me!” Then she felt a sharp prick on her hand and an odd sensation. “It’s some kind of trap!” “No,” Jilly said, “it’s taking your blood.” “What for?!” “It must be about to do a DNA scan.” “There are a lot of easier ways to do that!” “It must be the door’s security. It’s a bit crude, but it’s effective. It’s hard to fake it this way.” The port abruptly released her and Emily fell to the floor, holding her arm. There was a bruise forming where the needle had pierced her flesh. The idea of a machine-operated needle made her shiver – you could never quite trust an AI to hold itself back. She rubbed the bruise and got to her feet slowly. There was no sign anything was happening with the sample which had been stolen from her, but when she looked back in the port, the needle was no longer visible. “Well, I guess we...” The door opened. “Huh?” Kit scratched his head. “He was your father,” Jilly said. “I guess your DNA was close enough.”

“Come on,” Emily said, shaking the life back into her arm and leading them through the door. “Let’s see what he was hiding.” The lights inside the hab-dome didn’t come on straight away and, when they did, they were in low strips along the floor, lending everything in the room a somewhat ghastly air. In contrast to the rest of the facility, the interior here was state of the art. Thoroughly modern terminals were set out in a semi-circle in the centre of the room where a platform overlooked something. Emily walked to the consoles and looked down over the railing. A cold mist drifted up from the floor below. A cavity like a moat ran around the circular room, but it was hard to make out anything through the fog. “What is this?” Kit asked. “I don’t know.” There was the vague impression of objects down there, large cylinders of some kind which reflected the low light as if they were made of glass. Emily activated the display on the nearest console. As she did, something started to move. “I didn’t touch anything,” she said, snatching her hands away. Jilly pulled her back from the edge of the consoles. “I think we should get out of here, Emily...” With a mechanical whine, something rose from the mist, a glass tube, around two meters tall, lifting from a horizontal position into the vertical so that it stood up before them. Its surface was frosted with cold. “Is that...” Kit began. “It’s a cryo-tube,” Emily said, “used for freezing someone in cryostasis.” “Why would your father want to put anyone in stasis?” he asked. “I have no idea.” “There are more of them,” Jilly said, “all around the room. This is a cryostasis facility.” “Why would my father need something like this? Who is he freezing?” She knew, even as she said it, there was only one way to find out. She walked up to the edge of the platform again. From there, she could reach the cryo-tube they’d activated. Folding the cuff of her tunic over her hand, she wiped the fog away, and then recoiled from what she saw. It was a man, and not just any man. Kit pointed. “That’s...that’s...”

He was tall, powerfully built, with a fierce snarl on his face and a head of dark dreadlocks. His pale skin was covered in ritualistic tattoos and brands. They all knew him. They’d all seen the face on a thousand holo-streams. “Kyle Blackheart,” Emily whispered, “the Darkstar Emperor.” “It can’t be,” Jilly said, shaking her head. “He was killed at the Battle of Irdan. His flagship was destroyed by your father. The engines overloaded and the whole ship was vaporised. There wouldn’t even have been a body.” “Well that’s him or...or a clone of him...” Kit looked at Emily incredulously. “Why would Captain Ajax clone his most hated enemy?” “I don’t know. I just don’t know. Bring up one of the other tubes.” Jilly went to a console and did as she was asked. Once another tube had been raised, Emily crossed over to it and did the same as before, revealing the occupant. “Did going that fast do something to our brains?” Kit asked. Emily stepped back, stunned. The same contorted, savage face peered out at them. Two Kyle Blackhearts. “They have to be clones,” Jilly said, “it’s the only explanation.” “But...why...?” Emily went back to the first console she’d activated, conscious of the looming shape of civilisation’s most feared foe in front of her. “The answers must be somewhere in this archive. There has to be a logical explanation. Damn! It’s asking me for a data chip!” “There were lots of data chips back in the living area,” Kit said. “I’ll go and grab them and...” “No. It won’t be one of them.” She reached into her collar and fished out the platinum chain she still wore. The data chip shone in the dim light. She yanked it off its chain and prepared to insert it into the reader. “Stop right there, Emily.” They all turned. Lord iral Dracon was standing in the doorway, a fusion pistol in his hand. He advanced on them slowly, his other hand raised. “So now you know.”

“I don’t know anything,” Emily said. “But you obviously do.” She pointed at the two Blackhearts in their tubes. “What is this? Who are they?” “They’re who they appear to be. Kyle Blackheart. Every one of those tubes contains more just like them. There are fourteen in all.” “You cloned them?” “Yes. Your father and I, together.” “Why would you clone Kyle Blackheart? He was your worst enemy...” Dracon shook his head. “You don’t understand. There was never a Kyle Blackheart, not really.” Emily frowned. “What? Of course there was. He was the Darkstar Emperor. You fought a war against him. I’ve seen the ‘streams. We all have. What are you saying?” “There was a man known as Kyle Blackheart, and there was a war. But we started it.” “How?” “By creating an enemy.” Jilly nodded. “You cloned him from scratch, didn’t you? You created the perfect opponent and sent him to the Darkstar Nebula to whip up the Raiders.” “Why would you do that?” Emily demanded. “To change the galaxy. Don’t you get it? When your father and I were young, the human race was scattered across the stars, a lost, confused people. We were being destroyed by our own greed and petty infighting. The Free Planets was an ideal which had almost been forgotten, lost to corruption. We had to unite our people, give them a common foe. The Darkstar Raiders had been a thorn in our side for a millennium, but they would never have been a credible threat.” “There were no credible threats. Just humanity slowly decaying,” Emily said.

“Exactly!” Dracon gestured with the gun. “We were doomed. So we engineered this, he and I. On this forgotten moon, we cloned an enemy so repugnant, so vicious, that anyone opposing him would seem a hero by comparison – a shining beacon in the darkness. There was more to it, of course, but that was the general idea.” “Why clone so many though?” Emily asked. “Because,” Dracon sighed, “Blackheart was a savage brute who had a habit of getting himself killed. The things which made him such a good enemy were also his undoing. He turned his own troops against him, he took foolish risks and he never, ever went down without a fight.” Emily held up the data chip. “What’s on this? Was there really a super-weapon?” “No. The chip contains data about this project, but only these consoles can decrypt it. When I saw you had it, I knew you’d eventually come here. How much did your father tell you?” “Nothing.” “Ah. Well, no matter. I have no idea how you managed to get here without a ship, but it doesn’t matter now. I was hoping we could end this without violence, but it appears as if we have no choice.” “You’re going to kill us?” Kit asked with a strangled cry. “Don’t think it brings me any pleasure.” He looked at Emily sadly. “There’s too much of your father in you, girl. You and I both know if you got out of here alive, you’d tell everyone what happened here, and I can’t allow that. You see, your father was not the man we from the history archives, not really. He was never a reckless hothead. He was shrewd, pragmatic and, above all, idealistic. He believed in a better future for humanity. For you.” “How were the Darkstar Wars a better future?” “They gave way to this age of peace and prosperity. They allowed us breathing room to advance technology more in the last century than in the entire previous millennium. Thanks to this long peace, we have built faster ships than we ever imagined and we can go out beyond the reaches of civilisation, to stars mankind

has not seen since the earliest days of interstellar travel, in the time of the Cthonian Empire. Think what we might learn, what heights we might scale.” “A noble aim,” Emily itted, “but one which cost the lives of billions. I can’t believe my father would ever do that.” “He did do it, Emily. He was a pragmatist, like I said. He believed the ends justified the means.” She lifted the data chip again. “And yet...he gave me this. And never took any steps to keep me away from Troja. And my DNA let me into this room. I think he had other plans, Dracon.” “You didn’t know him, Emily.” “Are you sure you did?” She turned and slammed the data chip into the console. The system sprang to life and all of the remaining cryo-tubes started to rise from the freezing mist. “What are you doing?” Dracon demanded, looking around in confusion. “Going with my gut, like my father always used to.” “I told you...” The nearest cryo-tube started to open. Dracon turned, levelling his pistol, but a burst of laser fire punched through the smoke and knocked him to the ground with a cry. A figure stepped out onto the platform holding a pistol of his own. He was a tall man, a little thick around the waist, wearing a modified version of the Spacefleet uniform. His hair was grey and he wore a rather fetching moustache. He turned and winked at Emily. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me,” Captain Ajax said. Emily started laughing and leant back on the console to stop herself from collapsing to the floor. “You old bastard...” Ajax shrugged. “Sorry to put you through all that, my dear. But did you really believe a plasma overload could kill me?” “There must have been an easier way of doing this.”

“Nothing Dracon wouldn’t see coming. But I knew if I set you two against one another, the right person would come out on top.” He nudged his former XO with his foot. “Sorry, old friend.” “Did you kill him?” Kit asked. “No, but he’ll have a headache for a day or two. These stun settings are no joke – don’t believe what anybody says.” “I don’t understand any of this,” Emily said. “Was he telling the truth?” “He was,” Ajax itted. “And this is my way of making everything right. Can I assume The Sunskimmer is somewhere in the system?” “It is,” she said. “Then grab that data chip and signal them to come pick us up.” “What are you saying?” Jilly demanded. “There’s a whole fleet out there!” “Yes,” Ajax said, stroking his moustache, “I thought there might be. I bet they’re fast too.” “New upgraded engines,” Emily told him. “Good. This should be fun.” Jilly waved her hands. “You can’t mean for us to fight our way out!” “I only fight when I can’t run.” “But what happens now?” Emily asked him. “You’ll be exposed. Everything you worked for will be destroyed.” “I know. But I had to do something right, at last. We took it too far. Now I can start to make amends.” “How?” “Through you. I think it’s time the galaxy had a new Captain Ajax.” He leant down and took Dracon’s pistol before tossing it over to her. “What do you say?

How about a real adventure with your old dad?” Emily looked down at the pistol and smiled, then turned and yanked the data chip out of the console and shoved it in her jacket pocket. “Let’s go.”

FOUR

The facility known as Waystation Kappa was as far-flung as any orbital dock in the Quadrants. Built on an ancient core, over thousands of generations it had grown into a sprawling mass of hab-domes, cargo bays and weapon platforms. Creaking ballistic cannons, out of service for millennia, sat happily beside modern ion blasters and even a few massive antiphoton batteries, doubtless obtained by illicit means. Over ten-thousand people made their home on the Waystation and many hundreds more ed through on their way to more prosperous parts of space. Its three-thousand-year orbit took it on a vast, elliptical path around the gravitational centre of the Arcadian Nebula, an immense stellar nursery stained blue and yellow by the gasses which swirled in its fathomless depths. The Waystation was not positioned to enjoy the view – it was a purely pragmatic assemblage of random parts, controlled by a private Cartel who extracted heavy tithes on all trading and charged extortionate fees for docking. But this was a cold, empty part of space, with few stars suitable for achieving light speed travel close by. Waystation Kappa was an oasis in a black desert, and they had the guns. The current Overseer of the Kappa Cartel was named Garret Helf, a balding, overweight man with a bad temper and ambition far in excess of his competence. His office was at the peak of the clustered architecture of the Waystation, a fortified hexagon with no windows which was protected by antique magnetic shielding. A decent volley from even a small cruiser would reduce it to scrap, but it was more for appearances than anything. Helf ruled the region. This was his throne of gunmetal bulkheads and shimmering force bubbles. Currently he was sitting alone at his desk, reading the latest missives from the local network. Several sectors away, in the Parth system, a religious movement was beginning to gain influence on half a dozen worlds, with rejection of material goods a central tenet of their fanatical faith. If it spread to other sectors, the power of the Cartels in the Southern Quadrant could be under threat. More

troubling was the news from the Free Planets, the interstellar government which technically held sway over Waystation Kappa. This far out though, they were rarely concerned with the goings on in distant systems like Comorra, Tetron and fabled Lumina. In this remote outpost, Helf was the master. Still, war was rarely good for business. The door to the office chimed and Helf looked up with a frown. He tapped his terminal to it whoever it was and was surprised to see Korr, his chief of security, enter with two prisoners, their hands bound behind them with magnacuffs. “Korr? What’s going on?” “Two vagrants, sir,” Korr growled. He was a tall, stiff man who took his job very seriously. He was also a Cartel man to the core, which was essential in all the Waystation’s staff. “Vagrants?” Helf looked the pair over. The man drew most attention – a tall, waifish youth with a flop of multi-coloured hair which shimmered when it caught the light. His eyes were different colours and there was a faint suggestion of subdermal holos underneath his pale skin. He was handsome, but clearly had more money than sense. The woman was less remarkable. Perhaps in her early thirties, with dark hair cut in a more sensible style. Both had an odd air of prosperity about them, despite how they kept their shoulders slumped and their eyes on the ground. Their clothes were a little unusual, in a cut Helf didn’t recognise. Certainly not local garb. The simple tunic and pants combination put him in mind of a crew of Osirian traders who’d visited a few years back. The Overseer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He peered more closely at the woman. There was something faintly familiar about her. She glanced up and a jolt went through him as he finally got a good look at her face. The smooth sheen on her cheeks was unmistakable – she was almost certainly older than thirty, but she was someone who’d clearly been able to afford longevity treatments, to extend her life (and her youth) decades beyond human norms. These were no vagrants. “Who are they, Korr?” Helf asked uneasily. “What were they doing?” “They were in the bazaar, trying to trade for diketrazine-Y.” Helf raised his eyebrows. “Diketrazine-Y is illegal in this sector. What did you need it for, eh?” The boy mumbled something, but the woman kicked him and he fell silent. It was clear who was in charge. Why did she look so familiar? “Come

on,” Helf snapped, “don’t you have anything to say for yourselves? Who are you and what are you doing in this part of space trying to buy controlled chemicals? I know you aren’t from around here, just from your clothes. Osiris, is it? What are you, a couple of lithium miners on the run from your Cartel? Or maybe a couple of escaped convicts? You have the look of outlaws...” The woman looked up again and met his eyes. He felt another jolt go through him. Her cowed expression was clearly an act. There was no way this mysterious stranger was anything but in control of the situation. “We’re new here,” she said firmly, in a clipped, educated accent, “just looking around.” “Trying to buy DKY,” Korr snarled. “I heard ‘em with my own ears, sir. They offered to pay a hundred credits to that lowlife Snarz for a vial. He had the sense to send ‘em on their way. Just trying to buy contraband in Cartel territory is enough for me to turn them over to the authorities.” “Yes,” Helf smiled, pleased to regain the upper hand, “we could call in the Enforcers. It would take them weeks to get here, of course. Mostly, we dispense our own kind of justice here at Waystation Kappa. There are plenty of dirty jobs that require more manpower than we have, my two new friends. We don’t have much use for judges and sentencing around here, but anyone who causes problems in my bazaar can expect to spend the rest of their lives extracting ion residue from the sumps. It gets awfully dark and smelly in there, I’m afraid, but is it worse than whatever you’re running from?” He leant forward. “Tell me, why do you want Diketrazine-Y so badly? You had to know you’d never be able to buy something so volatile in a place like this.” “We did,” the woman itted, “and actually all we wanted was to get up here.” Helf frowned. “I don’t understand...” “I’m bored now, Emily,” the boy said, “can we move things along?” “Sure,” she shrugged. Something dropped to the floor behind her. Helf peered down at it – it looked like an ordinary ring she’d just slipped off her finger. But then, before his eyes, it began to segment and reform itself into the shape of a buzzing drone which lifted itself up from the grated metal floor with a blue glow of tiny grav-engines. Helf’s mouth dropped open. That kind of technology was far beyond anything he’d ever seen. The drone affixed itself to the woman’s magna-cuffs and, with a dull thud, short-circuited their workings. They fell to the

floor with a clang and she flexed her arms as she smiled around the room. Korr was reaching for his pistol, but she shook her wrist and the simple silver bracelet she was wearing began to change, just as the drone had, reconfiguring itself into the shape of a compact pistol which folded neatly into her hand. Its chamber lit up with a dangerous orange glow. “A fusion pistol,” she explained. “You might not have seen one before but, trust me, it packs quite a wallop.” Korr licked his lips nervously. His own laser pistol was dangerous enough, but this strange woman seemed a lot more experienced with her expensive weapon, and who could tell what kind of other technology she might have lurking about her person? “Uh...Emily?” The boy motioned to his own cuffs behind his back and she commanded the drone with a curt gesture. Helf could see the port on her wrist, indicating she was packing some serious wetware. These were not vagrants. These weren’t even Cartel . “Sorry, Kit,” she said with a half-smirk. “Who are you?” Helf demanded. He was starting to sweat now. Anything that threatened the status quo on Waystation Kappa made his heart beat fast. He liked things how they were. He didn’t want to be exiled to the sumps. “Don’t you know anything?” the boy, Kit, asked him incredulously. He pointed with his thumb. “She’s Captain Ajax.” Helf stared. “The Captain Ajax? Victor of the Darkstar Wars? Hero of the Free Planets? The most famous privateer captain in the Four Quadrants?” He looked her up and down. “I thought you were dead...and...uh...male...” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m the other Captain Ajax. Emily Ajax. His daughter.” “Ohhh!” He snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know you from!” “Yeah, that’ll be it all right.” She pointed her fusion pistol at Helf as her friend flicked his own into his hand with somewhat less aplomb and disarmed Korr. “Now, can we get this over with? I don’t intend to spend a second more than I have to in this forsaken little facility.”

“What do you want from us?” Helf asked, eyeing the glowing end of the pistol none-too-happily. “That.” She pointed over his shoulder at an alcove on the rear wall. He turned slowly in his chair, still conscious of the gun pointed at him. She had indicated an artefact – a sort of ceramic sculpture in the vague shape of a T – which had been in his office for as long as he could . “That thing? It’s just something one of the slaves dragged out of the sump. A trader thought it might be valuable, but I couldn’t ever find anyone willing to buy it.” “It’s a good job you couldn’t,” Kit said, still keeping his own weapon trained on Korr, who was eying everyone shiftily, obviously looking for some opening to exploit. “Quite,” Emily Ajax agreed. What was she captain of anyway? As far as Helf knew, she was just some spoiled princess from Osiris, more known for her parties than anything like this. “Hand it over.” “That’s really all you want? Some useless trinket?” “It’s the most valuable thing in this junk heap.” Helf paused. “It is?” “Hey, too late for negotiation,” Ajax said, waving the gun significantly. “Fine.” Helf took the thing slowly from its alcove and handed it to her. “Why didn’t you just buy it from me, you stupid bitch? Your drone ring is worth more than anything I own.” “I know, but I like it, and I might need it again. And one thing I’ve learned in the last few months is not to buy anything you can steal.” “A fine philosophy,” Helf acknowledged. “Yeah. And never steal anything you’re not happy to see destroyed.” She hurled the artefact to the floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

Helf spluttered at the wreckage. “What are you doing?” “Getting what I came for.” Keeping her pistol trained on him, she stooped down and picked an archaic-looking data chip from the ceramic fragments. “Wh...what is that?” “The most valuable thing on this Waystation,” she shrugged, “and probably in this whole Quadrant.” “What?!” Helf spluttered. “It was nice meeting you,” Ajax smiled, “but now we have to be going.” She and her friend started to back out of the office. “How far do you think you’re going to get?” Helf asked, surging to his feet as he temporarily forgot the gun pointed at his chest. “I can shut down every airlock in this facility with one button. You’ll never reach whatever ship you have docked here.” “Ah, that’s the clever thing,” Ajax said with a wink, “our ship isn’t docked.” “Then how are you going to get off this Waystation?” This woman was infuriating. “I’d tell you to look out of your window in about fifteen minutes,” she replied as she looked around his bare, sealed office, “but...you know...” “Bye!” Kit called as they ducked out of the door. He could hear them dashing down the corridor outside. “Korr,” Helf said as he sank down into his chair and rubbed his hands across his face. “I hope I don’t have to tell you to stop them and bring back whatever that data chip is...” “I’ll mobilise security teams right away, sir.” Helf didn’t look up as the big officer pounded out of the room. Life had been so simple a few minutes ago. What was going on? And why had it cost him something which was supposedly the most valuable object in the Quadrant?

With a snarl, he swept the contents of his desk onto the floor and slumped back grumpily in his chair.

***

“You know, Emily,” Kit observed as they darted down the corridor, “you could have just taken the sculpture and broken it open when we were back on the ship...” She looked at him as they stopped at an intersection and flattened themselves against the wall. “You sound like Jilly.” “Well, she does have a point from time to time.” “I’m going to tell her you said so.” Emily risked a look around the corner. There was no one down the next corridor – just another bleak, gunmetal age fitfully illuminated by artificial blue-white lights set into the tops of the walls. The Waystation was a gloomy conglomeration of millennia of human activity, and the worst mankind had to offer had found homes here over the long centuries. It was a place even her father might have been reluctant to come. A place of crime, pain and slavery she probably ought to blow out of the sky. But she wasn’t here to do that. Not today. “Coast is clear,” she said, and they carried on their half-running progress. Emily had a holo-map which popped up from her wrist interface she was periodically consulting. “Look, if my father taught me one thing, it’s never to do anything by halves.” “Don’t you think we’ve attracted a lot of attention though?” “More than if I’d traded some tech for this?” She held up the data chip. Her loyal drone was still buzzing along happily beside her. “Imagine something with my signature showing up here. But that Overseer’s never going to let it be known Emily Ajax stole something from him. Not if he doesn’t want his rivals taking advantage.” “I guess not.” “This way,” Emily said, jerking her head to the left. The scanners in her interface

showed alarms going off all over the Waystation, and security teams closing on their position. But the drone was giving off disruption signals which would scatter their internal sensors and buy them enough time to reach the airlock they needed. They skidded around a corner and came to an open docking platform with large, curving windows that gave a panoramic view of the Arcadian Nebula. The glass was pitted with aeons of micro-meteor impacts, and was maintained by only the most basic magnetic fields. Emily, more used to the luxurious surroundings of her native Osiris, felt like the whole facility would tear itself apart at any moment. She was getting more and more used to places like this though. Helf’s branding of her as an outlaw had stung, but she had to acknowledge it was true now. Her old life was gone forever. “Okay,” Kit said as they walked up to the heavy airlock, “signal the ship.” He was breathing hard, but Emily felt okay. The treatments which had given her over two centuries of life also improved her stamina. She wondered, now she was out in the black, swashbuckling her way from asteroid base to space station, how long she could expect to live without additional rejuvenation implants. Would her body start to break down without them? Would she start aging suddenly one day? Someone must have been in this situation before. She’d have to ask her father: he’d be bound to know. Emily brought up her holographic interface and was about to send the signal when the sound of boots on the deck behind them made her turn slowly. A figure stepped into the docking area, pointing two guns at them. They weren’t a design Emily recognised, but they looked powerful. The newcomer was a woman, tall and broad-shouldered, much larger than both her and Kit, dressed all in black. She would have been pretty, but one half of her dark-skinned face was wrenched up into a hideous rictus, and the entire side of her head was pocked with twisted scar tissue. Her scalp was shaved on that side too, and the other half of her dark hair hung down her unscarred cheek in thick braids. Emily held up her hands slowly. “Okay, let’s all calm down here.” “I agree,” the woman said. “No need for any more theatrics.” “Do you know who I am?” she asked. “I know of a woman of your description moving through this sector, claiming to

be Emily Ajax. Is that about right?” Kit glanced at her. “That’s technically true...” “I’m not claiming to be anyone,” Emily said irritably. “Right, the daughter of Captain Ajax, in a place like this, stealing from some two-bit Cartel Overseer.” She smirked, and it looked hideous on her deformed features. “You’re a bounty hunter,” Emily surmised. “Got it in one,” the woman nodded, “my name’s Reeve. Yours?” “Ajax. But you know that.” “Okay, we’ll play your game, Miss Ajax.” “Captain Ajax.” “Sure.” Reeve nodded at the chip she was still holding. “What’s on that?” “Navigational information.” “Really?” “Yes.” “Explain.” Emily wet her lips. How much should she reveal? What would her father do? She motioned towards the nebula with her head. “It’s data on how to jump through that nebula.” “Jump through? Impossible – it’s too unstable.” “Not with this chip plugged into our computer. It contains ancient charts and calculations, detailing a stable route which allows you to jump between protostars.” “Jump between proto-stars?”

“With a tidal drive. Hug the star’s gravity field, charge it up, bounce to the next one at transluminal velocity. Skip through this nebula and you’ll end up being thrown halfway across the Quadrant to...well...that would be telling...” Reeve waved her guns and made a growling noise in her throat. “I know how tidal drives work. Tell me where you’re going.” Emily narrowed her eyes. “How much do you know about this Waystation?” “What?” “Do you know who built it? Originally, I mean?” The bounty hunter tilted her head. Obviously her interest had been piqued. “Go on...” “This was once the most distant outpost of the Kelvan Imperium, the notorious isolationists who ruled over this part of the galaxy ten-thousand years ago. It was called a Waystation because it guarded the gates to their Core Worlds. Using this data chip,” she held it up again, “you can through the gate. It’s like a key. If we follow the course it details, we’ll end up in the centre of their ancient realm, the lost planet of Babylon.” Reeve threw her head back and barked a laugh. “You must take me for a fool, ‘Captain Ajax’. A con-artist impersonating one of the most famous scions in the Quadrants, pretending to have a key to a lost kingdom. And what waits for you at Babylon, my dear? Treasure?” Emily nodded. She wasn’t laughing. “The greatest treasure in the galaxy. The Rings of Babylon. My father is the only human to have seen them with his own eyes.” “Your father?” Reeve looked incredulous. “That would be the late Captain Ajax, would it?” “Not as late as you might think,” Kit said. “Right. He’s still alive. And maybe that doesn’t please you, because I can tell from the way you dress and your accent that you’re from the Darkstar Nebula. Is that right?”

Reeve nodded. “Got it in one. Not so far from Osiris and, whoever you are, you speak like Emily Ajax so you know that part of space. But your father’s no enemy of mine – I’m no Darkstar Raider. In fact, if he were here, I’d shake his hand.” “Well you’ve got the next best thing,” Kit told her. “Shut up, boy,” Reeve snapped. “This is all tall tales. I don’t know what’s on that chip, but you’re spinning me a bad yarn. No ship could thread its way through a nebula this dense.” “One ship could,” Emily said with a smile. “Yeah, but that would be...” “Uncloak the ship, Jilly!” Emily yelled into her interface before the bounty hunter could react. Reeve snarled a curse and fired her guns. Two crackling beams of light shot across the docking area, but Emily and Kit had already thrown themselves clear and the plasma discharge hit the bulkheads, causing them to judder alarmingly. Visible through the tall windows, a wave of distortion like a shifting mirage on a desert world began to coalesce from the blackness of space. Reeve stared up at it as, after a few seconds, it resolved itself into the shape of a ship that, frigate though it was, took up the whole view from the port. To anyone who knew any history at all, its shape would be instantly familiar. The bounty hunter took a step back, as if it would help. The ship was manoeuvring towards the airlock. Emily directed the drone to work on the control and override Helf’s locks. Reeve was still staring up. “That’s...that’s...” “The Sunskimmer,” Emily nodded. “Captain Ajax’s ship.” Emily pointed to herself. “Yes, exactly.” Reeve stared. “Then you really are Emily Ajax.”

“Right. And you’re in way over your head.” “What are you doing here?” “Saving the galaxy, what else? Now, if you don’t mind...” She started edging towards the airlock. “Wait,” Reeve said. “What?” The bounty hunter holstered her pistols. “Take me with you.” Kit stared at her. “What? Why?” “Because I know this corner of space better than you. And even if you’re Captain Ajax’s daughter, you’re still an Osirian noble. If I was any other bounty hunter in this sector, you’d be a smoking hole in the bulkhead already.” Emily exchanged a glance with her friend. “I may regret this,” she said, “but all right. Quick – I can hear a security team coming.” As The Sunskimmer slid into position in the docking bay and the drone finally broke through the locks, the three of them rushed towards the airlock, laser fire pattering from the bulkheads all around. As her father might say, Emily thought to herself, this should be fun.

FIVE

Of course, The Sunskimmer was no ordinary ship. It had been Captain Ajax’s – that is, the first Captain Ajax’s – personal ship for all of the centuries he spent as a privateer in service to the Free Planets. Privateers, at least by their own reckoning, were the lifeblood of the Quadrants. Men and women with little more than a ship and a ragtag crew, given license by the Free Planets or one of the other legitimate interstellar governments to trade freely in their name in exchange for trooping the colours and keeping the peace. Some were little better than brigands, others little more than merchants, plodding the spacelanes in an ancient cog. Captain Ajax had straddled the line between the two, and his ship reflected that. The Sunskimmer had been a humble ore freighter in another life, a rusting Helmsman-class with too many light years under its scorched tidal engines. Ajax had refitted and rearmed it, almost stripping it down to the bowplate to turn it into the ship he wanted. It took him decades of accumulating equipment and resources, and some said the main motivation for his adventures was upgrading The Sunskimmer, his one true love. Emily knew this wasn’t true, but the long story of its customisation was a romance of sorts. Even today, two centuries after its heyday, The Sunskimmer was something to behold. Its paint may have been flaking, its engines may have been more scorched than ever, but they were still the most efficient of their kind in the known galaxy. And the formidable arsenal bristling from its prow would put most battleships to shame. The Sunskimmer was a battered veteran of hundreds of engagements and though her father had wisely eschewed it when he’d fought beside – and commanded – the naval might of the Free Planets in his later career (open war is no place for a little frigate, was his winking assessment of his kilometres-long pride and joy), it was always at the helm of this ship where he’d felt most comfortable. Emily was no different. She’d grown up here, living in its dingy corridors for years at a time between spells spent at her mother’s orbital palace in Osiris. As adults, she and her father had toured the Quadrants together aboard it, flying the flag in peace over the planets he’d liberated through war.

All these conflicting thoughts went through Emily’s head every time she stepped aboard her father’s ship, but also her ship now. She was the Captain of The Sunskimmer by right of inheritance and although her father was still very much alive, to the rest of the galaxy he’d ed into myth almost a year ago. It was more though. She belonged here, in the big chair on the bridge. She knew this ship better than the engineers who scrambled to keep the tidal drive working. They warned her about pushing the limits of the aging frame, of taking a ship of such a design beyond what it was built to do, and she cheerfully ignored them. She knew better. The Sunskimmer was an old friend, one which would never betray her. Emily stepped onto the bridge and her Executive Officer, the stolid and reliable Jilly, stood up from the chair which was normally hers. “Welcome back, Captain. Kit.” She eyed the other member of their party. “Uh...” “Thank you, Jilly,” Emily said smoothly as she sat down in the chair. “Have we cloaked?” Jilly stepped back and inclined her head slightly while holding her hands behind her back in the way Emily knew perfectly well she’d adopted as a small child to make her look more grown-up. It seemed a very long time ago now. And, by most people’s reckoning, she supposed it was. “We engaged the device as soon as you came on board and we were clear of the Waystation.” “Good. Not that I think that creep Helf has anything which could even dent our shields, but I prefer to be gone like a ghost in the night if possible.” She held up the stolen data chip triumphantly. “We’ll be out of this sector in the blink of an eye.” “If it’s genuine,” Jilly said. “Why wouldn’t it be genuine?” “I hope I don’t have to remind you we’re chasing nothing but a vague rumour here. You’re not even sure what we’ll find at Babylon, even if it is possible to get there.” “My father’s been there. He saw it. Relax.” She turned the chair and tossed the data chip to Halib at the sensor console. “Check out what’s on it. Run it through the translation matrix – it’ll almost certainly be in Ancient Kelvan.”

Halib wrinkled her nose. “I hate linguistics.” “No you don’t. You can read more languages than the rest of the crew put together.” “Doesn’t mean I like it.” “So let the computer do the heavy lifting – it doesn’t need to be poetry, just as long as we can make some sense of it. You and Kit get working on a flight plan as soon as you decipher it. It’s only been ten-thousand years, but nebulae can be treacherous beasts, as we all know, so we’re going to have to improvise around the script a little.” “You can’t seriously be planning to slingshot your way through a nebula this dense,” Reeve said. She’d taken up position near the door, watching – and in turn being watched by – everyone else on the bridge. The mangled bounty hunter stuck out like a sore thumb amongst Emily’s crew of Osirian nobles. “It’s not a problem,” Emily said dismissively, “on our first outing in The Sunskimmer we took her straight through the Darkstar Nebula. Proto-stars get a lot less scary when you’ve danced a pirouette on the eye of a quantum singularity. But you know all about that, right?” Jilly glanced at Reeve. “Could we maybe have a word, Captain?” “Absolutely. Come on, Reeve, let’s swap some old war stories.” She got up and gestured to the tall woman to follow them to the briefing room off to one side of the bridge. The room was cramped – not because it was small but because, even after several months outside the shipyards where it’d been mothballed, The Sunskimmer was still packed to the gunwales with crates full of old junk. With barely more than a skeleton crew, Emily didn’t have much time to have it all unpacked and investigated. There could be anything lurking around, knowing her father as she did. Emily perched herself on top of a small pile of boxes while Reeve sat at the table that ran down the centre of the room and made herself comfortable by putting her boots up on its top. Jilly stayed standing. “Okay, Reeve. My father had a saying – sometimes you have to let the antiphoton decay where it may. I took a chance by letting you come aboard after

you took a shot at me and my friend.” “Captain...” Jilly spluttered. “Oh drop the act, Jilly,” Emily said. “Talk, Reeve. I know you’re from the Darkstars, but what brings you out to this desolate corner of space?” “All right,” the bounty hunter said, “I’ll start at the beginning. I was born on an asteroid colony in the heart of the Darkstar Nebula. You’ve been there, so you know what it’s like. I didn’t see starlight until the day I left that hellhole. For more generations than anyone can count, my ancestors had been living on that rock, scratching a living from the ore residue in the dust which coalesced when the gravity shears reversed every season. They had less than nothing but, until my grandparents’ day, that nothing was taken from them by the Darkstar Raiders.” Emily nodded, understanding. “Everyone forgets who their first victims were...” “Right,” Reeve said. She gave Emily and Jilly a bleak smile. She might not have meant it to look so ghoulish, but the way her face was twisted by her scars didn’t leave her much choice. “They took their share of slaves and resources, left us worse than beggars. We starved in the darkness, waiting for someone to come and give the Raiders what they deserved. The wars were a hard time for everyone in the Nebula but, at the end of it, the Raiders were gone.” “And, two generations later, you got your chance to leave too?” “That’s about the size of it,” Reeve nodded. “I’d had enough of industrial accidents in the caverns,” she held a hand up to her face. “Scrambling around in near zero-g, braving hard vacuum to scrounge a pittance. When my mother finally died of ice lung, I took my little bit of inheritance and got age on a freighter heading out of the Nebula. Never looked back.” “So how did you become a bounty hunter?” Emily asked. Jilly started. “Bounty hunter? Emily, we’re the most wanted criminals in...” Emily shushed her. “Reeve?” “Asteroid living makes you strong, and Darkstar genetics always leaned more to

fighting than trading. It seemed natural. I’ve hauled in scum in every Quadrant and made enough to buy myself the best kit for the job.” She looked around the briefing room. “You should understand that. We all have a calling.” “Those were some nice pistols,” Emily said. “Plasma?” “Illegal in most of the galaxy. They tend to maim rather than kill.” “Perfect for someone like you,” Jilly said, unable to keep the contempt out of her voice. Actually, she probably wasn’t even trying. “Exactly,” Reeve said, with no sign of being offended. Quite the reverse in fact. She leant back in her chair and put her hands behind her head. Emily sat forward. “And now you come looking for me, is that right?” “No, I come looking for a woman pretending to be you. Important difference.” “Why?” Jilly asked, confused. Emily turned to her friend. “Don’t you see? Dracon hasn’t put word out I’m on the run yet. And we know everyone still thinks my father’s dead. He’s still scared about what we’ll reveal. About how close he is to this. He wants me brought in, but quietly. We’ve had to keep off the network,” she explained to the bounty hunter, “or Dracon will trace the comms node we’re using in minutes.” “Dracon, that’s the one,” Reeve said. “The Lord iral.” “He used to be my father’s Executive Officer,” Emily explained. “I know. Just goes to show you can’t trust everyone.” She winked lasciviously at Jilly, who drew herself up slightly. “The second I saw this ship and realised you really were Emily Ajax, I figured there was no point trying to bring you in.” “I see my reputation precedes me,” Emily said with a smile. “No. Your reputation is for being a spoiled Osirian princess. What I mean is, I realised this was about to get political. If I bring Emily Ajax in chains to Lord iral Dracon, he’s not going to pay me the bounty. He’s going to have me pushed out the nearest airlock. I’d be a loose end.”

Jilly shook her head. “So you asked to us?” “What’s left for me if I stay behind? When Dracon turns up, he’ll ask questions, and he’ll find out I let you get away. Then it’s airlock time again. You guys are my best shot at getting out of here with what’s left of my skin intact. And besides...you’re Captain Ajax’s daughter...” “You don’t owe me anything,” Emily said quietly. “No, but I owe your father everything.” “Close enough,” Emily said. She jumped down from the crates. “Welcome aboard, Reeve. We’ll find you a cabin.” “Thanks.” Reeve stood up. “I came out into space to find adventure and riches. Aligning myself with Captain Ajax – any Captain Ajax – seems a good way to go about doing it.” “Adventure might be one word for this,” Emily said darkly, “but the truth is Lord Dracon has the largest fleet in the Quadrants scouring space for us. We think he’s planning to overthrow the parliament of the Free Planets in a military coup and use his new warships to push forward the boundaries of known space. This whole region will be under martial law unless we can stop him. No Cartels, no privateers, no asteroid miners living their lives in peace. Just soldiers, ships and military conscription.” Reeve shrugged. “Like I said, Darkstars are fighters. War’s no skin off my nose – or my face, I should say – but I don’t want to be no man’s soldier. I don’t get political. You’ve got me, for as long as this stays worth my while.” She nodded to Emily, gave Jilly another sly look, then left the room, heading back out to the bridge. Emily moved to follow, but Jilly grabbed her arm. “Did you bang your head on the Waystation?” she asked in a surprisingly level voice. “What?” “You have no idea who that woman is.” “You just heard her tell her whole life story.”

“And you believe it?” Emily drew her XO closer. “Listen, I don’t trust her either, but she’s had plenty of chances to stick a knife in my back so far, and she didn’t. I saw the look on her face when The Sunskimmer decloaked. She looked like one of those zealots we met in Parth. I believe her story.” “So do I,” Jilly said. “So what’s the problem?” “The problem,” she said in a low voice, “is you and I both know her story is based on the biggest lie the galaxy has ever been fed. Your father didn’t save the Darkstars from slavery – your father is half the reason they were in that situation in the first place. Which is why Dracon’s hunting us now, in case you’ve forgotten.” “I know that...” “But Reeve doesn’t. And how far do you think her loyalty to your father’s legacy will stretch when she finds out?” “I don’t know,” Emily itted, “but leaving her behind would have been a mistake. Don’t ask me how I know. It’s just here, in my gut.” She patted her stomach. “You’re...” “My father’s daughter. I know. Everyone always says so.” “Do you really think what you’re going to find at Babylon will stop Dracon?” “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get there. Now come on – let’s see if Halib and Kit have figured out the flight plan yet.”

***

Space travel was fraught with difficulties. The tidal drive, the miracle of engineering which allowed humanity to maintain interstellar civilisation, relied on one important thing – stable gravity wells. It was no coincidence the richest and most civilised systems in the Free Planets were in volumes with high stellar density. Lumina, its capital, was named so for a reason, for its skies were constantly lit by a trillion pulsing stars. The Kelvan Imperium had taken a different approach, or so astroarchaeologists now believed. They had founded their hegemony in the desolate wastes beyond the Reaches, in the halo-region where ancient, dying stars shone faintly in the cold black of space, dozens of light years apart. That’s how they’d ed into myth – it was almost impossible to navigate the region without spending years in the interstellar void, helplessly trudging at subluminal speeds between cold, dead worlds. Captain Ajax had discovered, quite by chance, that the Arcadian Nebula held the secret. It was the gateway to their territory, and only by following their ancient path could you guide a ship straight for Babylon, the jewel in their long-broken crown. As The Sunskimmer burst from a blaze of blue light close to the surface of the cool, red Babylonian sun, they beheld the scene before them as the external sensors came back online. Emily stood up from her chair and looked in wonder at the holoscreen which showed the space outside. “It’s so...” “Empty,” Kit said. His tone was morose. “I’ve never seen anywhere so desolate,” Jilly agreed. “There’s hardly any stars.” Indeed, only a few faint pinpricks of light were scattered across the black void before them. “This is the edge of the galaxy,” Emily said. “Who’d make their home in a place this black?” “It’s not so bad,” Reeve said. In the Darkstar Nebula, starlight had taken on the status of myth. No wonder it bred such violent people.

“Sensors are picking up a few planets,” Halib said, reading from her console. “Some terrestrial ones nearby, and some gas giants further out.” “How big?” Emily asked. “What?” She turned to the woman. “The gas giants – how big are they?” Halib frowned down at the readout. “Well...whoa! There’s a monster out there!” “A hyper-giant?” She nodded. “It’s huge. More like a failed sun than a gas giant.” “That’s where we’re going. Set a course.” Jilly leant in as Emily sat back down. “A gas giant? You planning on starting a new lithium mining operation in the lower atmosphere? I didn’t travel this far from Osiris to follow in my parents’ footsteps.” “That hyper-giant is Babylon. Trust me on this. Wait until you see the rings.” The planet was far out into the system and even with The Sunskimmer’s powerful sub-light engines it took them the better part of a day to get there. Kit was almost nodding at his console as he guided them towards it, but Emily was wide awake as they got close enough to get a visual reading. At first there wasn’t much to see – a bright, irregular blob on the holoscreen, which gradually coalesced into a ringed planet as they jetted closer and stretched the sensors to their limits. All of them had seen a hundred planets just like it but, as they moved in, the immense scale of the world before them became apparent. A vast ocean of swirling orange and red gas clouds mottled its surface, but more impressive was the huge and intricate ring system which surrounded it. Vast, banded arcs reaching out into space for thousands of kilometres, a series of dense accretion discs each home to asteroids the size of moons. True satellites also floated around it, perhaps several hundred, each the size of a terrestrial world, some glimmering with faint bands of atmosphere. Halib wasn’t kidding about this being a failed star – Babylon was a small solar system in itself. “Amazing,” Jilly said. “I’ve never seen a gas giant this size.”

“It’s a real monster,” Reeve agreed. “But what did you come here for?” “The secret is in the rings,” Emily said. “Scan them, Halib.” “Just...rings,” Halib shrugged. “Fragments of ice and rock. Nothing remarkable.” “Are we close enough to do a metallurgical scan?” “What?” “Scan them for metals, woman!” “Okay, okay...” She tapped a few holokeys and then made a small, confused noise. “Well?” “Well...there are all the usual minerals you’d expect. Except...no, this can’t be right...” Emily smiled to herself. “Go on...” “Some of the debris in the rings is...well...metallic. And giving off strange readings. It’s almost as if they’re artificial.” Jilly rose to her feet. “Glo,” she said to the burly man at another terminal, “move your view in closer. Focus on the rings.” He did as she ordered and Jilly’s mouth dropped open. “They’re...” “Ships,” Emily said, “thousands upon thousands of ships.” And they were. Orbiting in amongst the asteroids and chunks of ice were phalanxes of ancient vessels. Vast battleships and bristling dreadnoughts. Squadrons of frigates and destroyers docked around central nexuses and uncountable attack ships, bombers and transports. An entire fleet. More than a fleet – a fleet of fleets. The vast might of a forgotten empire, preserved forever in orbit of this monster of a world. Reeve was leaning forward on the rails around the back of the bridge. “These are Kelvan ships?”

“That’s right,” Emily said. She alone had known what they’d find here and she was enjoying being the only one not staring in awe at the screen, even if the sight of it was much more astonishing than just hearing about it from her father. “When the Kelvan Imperium began to fall, they built a colossal fleet in preparation for the war against the coalition which had come together to destroy them. They built the fleet, but their enemies engineered a virus to kill them instead. The Kelvans died, and none of their ships ever fired a shot in anger. The secret route into their systems was lost and all this was forgotten. Babylon became a legend, and all that survived was the fairy tale about the wondrous treasure lying in its rings. Well, here it is.” “With that fleet,” Reeve said, her voice sounding almost reverential. “you could set the galaxy on fire. You could start the greatest war the Quadrants have ever known.” “Or end it,” Emily said grimly. “Get to work on locating the flagship. That’s going to be the key to taking control of the rest of the ships.” “Emily,” Jilly said, “you can’t be serious about this. There’s enough firepower in these rings to vaporise entire star systems. If any of it even works, that is. These ships have spent ten millennia floating lifelessly in space.” “Trust me on this, Jilly,” Emily said, “I know what I’m doing.” She left the bridge and went to her cabin. She should really have taken the captain’s stateroom – it was hers by right – but she preferred to use her old room. It was smaller, but full of creature comforts she’d half-forgotten. As she stepped in, she saw a message icon rotating on her interface. She hadn’t noticed her wrist chime, but as she sat on her bed and opened it up, she realised it had been sent straight to her cabin as an extra security measure. Extra, because the message itself was protected by a fiendish encryption code she recognised as her father’s handiwork. After deciphering it with the key he’d handed her when he’d last taken his leave, she saw his familiar face swim into view on the holo-display set in the bulkhead. “Emily,” the wavering image of the old man with his curving grey moustache and his trademark custom uniform said. “I hope his finds you well.” There was a sadness in the eyes of her father, the original Captain Ajax, which made her concerned for him all of a sudden in a way she didn’t ever being

before. “As you know, I came here to Jotun hoping to find my old engineer, Patrick. But it looks like Dracon got here first. The whole planet is scoured to the bedrock. Nothing left. I tried searching below the surface – Patrick was always a canny one – but there’s nothing. Nothing at all. I think I’ll find the same wherever I go. Dracon’s fleet is spread across the Quadrant, but by the stars those beasts are powerful. Each wing could crush a world into dust. And...and I think he’s coming for you, Emily. He knows you have The Sunskimmer. The cutter I’m in has detected Spacefleet energy signatures on the edge of every system we’ve visited, holding position in the oort cloud, just waiting for us, we think. It’s hard to know who to trust now, Emily. Dracon’s got the resources of the entire Free Planets at his disposal. I hope you found Babylon, because now it might be our only hope. But listen, Emily,” and here he’d leant close into the interface on his end so his weathered face filled the screen, “he’s coming. Don’t doubt that. He may know you’re searching for Babylon. I never told him what I found here, but he’s smart. He’ll figure it out. And when he does, he’ll bring his whole fleet together and come after you. He won’t care how many ships he loses. He can afford a few right now. He’ll gun the engines into scrap to find you because you, and only you, have the power to stop him taking over the Quadrants. You’d better be ready for him and, Emily, if there’s someone on The Sunskimmer you don’t trust one-hundred-percent with knowledge of your mission, you’d better get rid of them before it’s too late. Dracon can offer the riches of the galaxy to anyone, and loyalty is a small thing next to that.” He smiled faintly, and some of his old self seemed to return. “I love you, Emily. Stay safe.” “I love you too, dad,” she said to the empty room as the message terminated and the screen went black.

SIX

The bridge’s holoscreen lit up as the sensors finally found what they’d been searching for. In amongst the innermost rings, floating sedately in an ocean of tumbling ice and rock, a vast, ancient battleship. At least an order of magnitude larger than The Sunskimmer, it was a blunt, ugly vessel in the typical utilitarian Kelvan style. It mounted most of its weaponry on two stubby protrusions like wings halfway down its hull, but the ship’s entire spine was mounted with more serried gun batteries. Turrets studded its length and its prow gleamed with a fearsome ram, a reminder of a more brutal age of spaceborne warfare. Emily shook her head in wonder. “Anything like it in the databanks?” she asked Jilly. “No,” her Executive Officer replied. “It’s at least three times the size of any other ship from its era. It rivals one of Spacefleet’s Titan-classes for sheer mass and firepower.” “This is like an astroarchaeologist’s wet dream,” Kit murmured, staring at the screen. “Halib, can you tell me what’s working on that thing?” Halib tapped at her console. “Most of the weapons systems are intact. Uh...it’s mostly solid ballistics. This is from before the ion-age, after all. A lot of micrometeor damage to the hull though.” She made a tutting noise under her breath. “What?” Emily asked. “No atmosphere, Captain. There’s a minor hull fracture somewhere I’d guess. Since the computer core’s powered down, the emergency bulkheads never engaged. It probably leaked out centuries ago.” “Kit,” Emily said, stepping up beside her pilot, “try to bring us a little closer. I want the computer link-up working, Jilly.” “We’ll do the best we can,” Jilly replied, frowning down at her console.

“Even if you can somehow power it up remotely,” Reeve said from the back of the bridge, where she’d taken to standing since they’d begun their surveys of Babylon and its hoard, “what makes you think your system will be able to talk to a ten-thousand-year-old computer?” “Kelvan technology isn’t so arcane,” Jilly said. “We have extensive archives.” “Fragmentary ones,” Reeve said, stepping around the rails and down into the central bridge area. She stood beside Emily and pointed at the monstrous battleship still hovering on the screen. “Like your pal said – this is better suited to astroarchaeologists. Everything in your databanks about the Kelvans is pieced together from ancient computer cores discovered on dead worlds, copies of copies, full of errors and damage. You can’t interface with that ship from behind your modern consoles.” “We have to keep trying though,” Emily said. “We’ve come this far...” “You have to go over there,” Reeve said quietly. “There’s no atmosphere,” Jilly snapped. “So?” Emily looked at Reeve. “You expect me to send someone over there to brave hard vacuum?” At her words, a collective shudder seemed to through the bridge crew. Almost everyone on The Sunskimmer had been born and raised in an orbital installation or a ship. None of them felt too comfortable planetside for long, but they also had a healthy fear of exposure to the vacuum of space. It was the fate every interstellar traveller truly dreaded – being stranded in the black, with supplies dwindling, facing the long death of the void. Partly it was a kind of superstition, but no matter how far humankind travelled across the galaxy, there was always some dim, ancestral knowledge they did not belong there. It was the most hostile desert imaginable. She knew she couldn’t ask that of her crew. “Do you have any other ideas?” Reeve asked. “No. But I won’t order anyone to do it. I’ll go.”

“Captain...” Jilly said, rising to her feet. “I’ve done it before, Jilly,” Emily said as she ran a hand over her jaw and looked at the ship again. “My father took me out onto the hull of this very vessel to repair a damaged magna-generator. He could have sent a drone or had one of the engineers do it, but he wanted to show me something.” “A busted shield node?” Kit asked, turning in his chair to look at her. “Don’t be facetious,” Emily smiled, “he wanted to show me want it meant to be Captain Ajax. To never order one of your crew to go somewhere you wouldn’t go yourself. He knew space was a dangerous place for a young girl – and he wanted me to know it too. He spent his childhood crawling through an oort cloud at sublight speeds on a freighter they constantly had to patch back together. He’d been out there plenty of times. He’s the only man I ever met who wasn’t afraid of the black.” “Captain,” Jilly said, ing her and Reeve at the front of the bridge in the reflected glow of the holoscreen. “As your Executive Officer, I can’t let you go aboard that ship alone.” “You want to come too? Captain and XO on a mission together, leaving Kit in charge? Is that what you want?” Jilly glanced around the bridge. “Anything could happen over there...” “She’s right,” Reeve said, “you shouldn’t go alone.” “There’s no one aboard who’s ever done anything like this before though,” Emily shrugged, “and no one I want to order to come with me. Vacuum panic isn’t a pretty sight.” Reeve nodded. “I know. I’ve seen it. Which is why you should take me.” Jilly turned to the bounty hunter. “You?” “I grew up on an asteroid, ? I’ve worked in hard vacuum before. More times than I can count, in fact. I’m not scared of the black either.” “Then you’re the only choice.”

“Emily!” Jilly protested. “We don’t know anything about this woman!” “I know she’s the only girl on this boat with the balls to volunteer for this mission.” Emily clapped Reeve on the shoulder as she walked towards the door. “Suit up – we leave in an hour.” She paused at the exit and shot Jilly a smirk. “Sometimes, you’ve just got to let the antiphoton decay where it may...”

***

The Sunskimmer had a small complement of sublight shuttles mostly used for landing on planets. Like most interstellar vessels, The Sunskimmer would collapse under the strain of entering an atmosphere, but the first Captain Ajax had never had cause to send more than one or two down to a world’s surface. A modern battleship might be equipped with hundreds of craft for landing troops, or luxurious yachts for conveying irals and ambassadors planetside. Captain Ajax had lived his entire life in space though. Emily’s father always said too much gravity made his boots feel heavy. As much as she could respect that attitude, Emily wished he’d taken more effort to maintain the shuttles. They were rickety buckets and might have been the one original feature left of the ship The Sunskimmer had once been. Piloting it across the several hundred kilometres between their ship and the ancient Kelvan cruiser was a hair-raising experience, but Reeve didn’t seem to mind. She’d lived a hard life, Emily had to remind herself – her hideous scars attested to it – and this kind of thing was nothing to her. The shuttle’s gravity net was a little shaky and seemed to buck inversely to the tiny ship’s motion so all their weight was concentrated towards the nose. As Emily guided them across the spectacular, multi-coloured ring system, it felt like they were falling downwards, plummeting towards the vast hulk which now filled the holoscreens plastered to the shuttle’s interior. “Getting spacesick yet?” Reeve asked with a slight smile. It still looked cold and cruel through her distorted features. “I’ve never been spacesick in my life...” “I bet you’ve never been in a ship without a working gravity net though. I once spent a whole month in zero-G. It can screw you up.” “I’ve been in zero-G,” Emily said, a little more snippily than she intended. “Just like you’ve been in the vacuum, with your dad holding your hand?”

Emily turned slightly in her chair. “Excuse me?” “Relax,” Reeve said, “I’m just messing with you. I’m nervous too.” Emily looked her up and down. They were both wearing spacesuits, but the helmets would wait until they left the relative comfort of the shuttle. “You?” She couldn’t imagine this woman being nervous about anything. “Sure. Hard vacuum’s no joke. But if you want to know the truth, that ship gives me the creeps.” She nodded out at it. Emily turned back. “Why?” “Abandoned for ten-thousand years? The last legacy of a long-dead civilisation? Who knows what ghosts are over there?” “No one ever crewed the ship, alive or dead,” Emily said, adjusting their speed as they manoeuvred towards one of the thousands of docking ports near the Kelvan cruiser’s prow. “And I don’t believe in ghosts.” “Doesn’t matter what you believe, Emily Ajax – space is always full of surprises.” After they docked and all the security checks were finished, Emily and Reeve donned their helmets and made their way into the airlock. The design of the ship was unfamiliar to her. There was an odd, unfinished quality to it which she noticed immediately as soon as the airlock decompressed and she stepped into the empty corridors. She knew what little had been discovered about Kelvan history, and she supposed this vessel had been built in an age when their entire society had turned its efforts to the terrible war for survival. One thing she did find familiar was the military utilitarianism of her surroundings. This was a thoroughbred warship. “Interesting,” Reeve said, her voice crackling through the comm-link between the two suits. “What is?” Emily was just concentrating on putting her feet in front of her. The gravity was fine – maybe a little weak as the stored energy in the gravity net would have dissipated somewhat by now – but she couldn’t stop thinking about the few millimetres of fibre and alumesh between her and the airless void.

“In ten millennia, how much has really changed?” It was totally dark inside the ship, and the only illumination was provided by the white lamps mounted on their helmets. She shone the beam around the corridor as they moved forward, following the holographic schematic superimposed onto the interior surface of her helmet’s visor. “A lot. Languages, customs, technology.” “But this ship will still hold its own against Dracon’s, right?” “Yes. It may use a different kind of ammunition, but an explosion is an explosion however you make it.” They reached an intersection and Emily pointed to the left. Her trusty drone hovered at head height beside them, casting its own fitful beam of light. Any doors they came to would need to be opened by its polarityinverter since the whole ship was powered down except for hard systems like the gravity net and the magnetic shields which held the bulkheads together. “Exactly. Ten-thousand years, and what do we have to show for it? You know, I’ve travelled all across the Quadrants – as you have too, I’m sure – and it seems humans are the same the galaxy over.” “Maybe,” Emily said doubtfully. “Ever wonder where it all began?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, where did we come from?” Emily frowned as she consulted the map again. “I’m not sure I follow...” “Humans. Which theory do you favour? Diffusion or many-worlds?” “I don’t really care about religious stuff,” Emily said curtly. “What difference does it make anyway? There are Arcana-Temples on Bakka IV that have been in use for half-a-million years. Wherever we came from, we haven’t been there for a long time.” They came to a door and Emily ordered the drone to unlock it. It opened slowly and with unnerving silence. With no atmosphere, there was no sound. “Why are you asking this stuff now of all times?” she asked Reeve.

“Just making conversation. And keeping you distracted. This is only your second time in the black, captain.” “It’s hardly the black,” Emily murmured, “we’re in a ship.” “Just like up and down,” Reeve said, “when it comes to space ‘in’ is a relative term.” “Let’s just find the bridge, okay?” They moved through the eerily silent ship for half an hour before, with the help of the drone, they finally stepped onto the bridge. Unlike the bridge on The Sunskimmer, the command centre of this nameless warship was buried deep inside its hull, protected by layers of armour and secondary magna-shields. Its confines were cramped, with a low ceiling just two metres above the head of the captain’s chair, set on a raised dais and surrounded by uncomfortable looking benches at the other consoles which covered the walls. There was no central holoscreen. “Comfortable,” Reeve remarked dryly as she stepped into the small room beside Emily. “Saves room for weapons,” Emily said. She crossed to the nearest console and peered at the angular script on the wall above it. “I think this is the engineering station. We should be able to power it up from here.” “Captain?” Jilly’s voice cut in over the comm-link. “Go ahead.” “We’re picking up a gravity spike from the system’s star.” “Ships?” “Seems to be.” “Spacefleet signatures?” “No way to tell at this range.”

“They followed us here,” Reeve said. “Not hard. Dracon probably crucified Helf on his own docking spires. He’s seen me pull that trick with a nebula before, so it won’t have taken him long to figure out how to find me. I just hope it cost him a few ships getting here.” “The way you told it, he can afford to lose some.” Emily nodded darkly. “Keep us informed, Jilly.” She went back to work on the console, pressing some of the ancient analogue switches experimentally. “I studied Ancient Kelvan at school,” she murmured to herself. A red light began to blink. “Ah ha!” She thumbed the button above it and suddenly the consoles began to flicker to life and the whole bridge lit up with an ominous green glow. Reeve looked around. Her scars looked livid in the ghoulish light. “These Kelvans were pretty grim folks, huh?” “By this time, yes.” Emily read from the screen which lit up in front of her. Somehow, she’d expected all the consoles to be covered in a layer of dust, but of course they weren’t. Everything was cold and sterile in this ship. “I think I can power the engines up.” Reeve turned sharply. “You’re going to pilot this ship out of here?” “I just want to get everything working. The core’s online, but this syntax is more arcane than I expected. You weren’t wrong only having fragments of knowledge. I’m no computer expert, but I’m pretty sure we’ll never manage a remote interface from The Sunskimmer.” “So what?” Reeve asked as she walked over to the captain’s chair and tilted her head questioningly at it. In her bulky spacesuit, every movement was comically exaggerated. “Command from here? Abandon your father’s ship?” “This is the flagship,” Emily said, “it should be able to interface with every vessel in the rings.” Reeve raised an eyebrow. “You think you can control the entire fleet from this one ship?” “That’s the general idea.”

“Maybe if you had half-a-million hands...” “I won’t need quite so many. Okay, I think I’ve figured this out...it’ll take a minute to transmit all the commands, but I think I can power all of them up. The ones which are working anyway.” Reeve stepped back beside her. “And then what?” “That’s up to Dracon.” “You only have a few hundred people on your ship, Ajax. You can’t even run this battleship with so few.” “We’ll do it from The Sunskimmer.” “But you just said the cores couldn’t interface...” “I don’t need an interface – just one link. Damn, I should have brought Tarq along, or even Halib. This would be right in their orbit.” Reeve chuckled. “Well you have me. What can I do?” “Watch my back in case those ghosts you talked about show up.” “Thanks...” “Captain,” an alarmed sounding Jilly interrupted, “we have a problem.” “Go on...” “We’ve got confirmed spacefleet signatures on the scanners.” “That was quick,” Emily said, straightening. “I know. They’re heading in system faster than we thought was possible. It looks like they have a wing of destroyers leading the charge. I don’t know what Dracon did to their engines, but they’ll be with us in minutes.” “Bastard,” Emily snarled. “If he overguns his drives like that, he’ll kill half his crew with a plasma discharge.”

“We’re detecting a lot of energy spikes,” Jilly confirmed, “could be self-inflicted damage – but it’s not slowing them down.” “Try to keep them off our backs, Jil’.” “We’ll try, but we’re picking up at least a dozen signatures. We can’t go toe-totoe with so many.” “So don’t go toe-to-toe – use The Sunskimmer like my father did. He never believed in a fair fight.” “Well it sure won’t be that. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you were back on board...” “You’ll feel a lot less comfortable if I leave what I’m doing unfinished. Keep them occupied, Jilly – and don’t get killed. Because there’s no way I’m flying this antique heap of junk out of here if I can help it.” Emily terminated the link and got back to work, cycling through command codes in a language she barely recognised. “What are you doing?” Reeve asked, leaning over her shoulder. “Overriding a few protocols. Thankfully the Kelvans never got as far as putting all their security measures in place for this fleet. They never thought anyone would get into the bridge of their flagship. I think I can do this.” “But do what?” Her gloved fingers were a blur on the chunky buttons as she put together a quick and dirty algorithm. “I’m setting up a command protocol of my own.” “To control the fleet?” “Something like that.” Reeve frowned. Schematics spun on the small, green-glowing screen and she saw where Emily was re-routing the power grids of the thousands of ships she now had control over. “Wait, are you doing what I think you’re doing?” “Just let me finish, Reeve...”

Suddenly, Emily felt herself rocked to one side. She stumbled and steadied herself on the nearest bulkhead. Her breath fogged her visor for a moment and she looked around. “Tell me that was the gravity net hiccupping...” “I don’t think so,” Reeve said. “Jilly,” Emily barked, slapping the comm button on her wrist, “report!” “Scratch my earlier estimates, Captain,” Jilly said, sounding even more flustered than before, “we’ve got eight ships closing on your position.” “I’m sure they detected us powering up.” “Should I cloak?” Jilly asked. “You can’t shoot if you do that. And besides, Dracon was with my father when they cut the cloaking device out of that Meccite battleship. They installed it together. If anyone knows how to penetrate it, it’s him. Try to duck and weave – you’re more manoeuvrable than those destroyers.” “If we change position, you’ll be stranded...” “Don’t worry about that right now. Just keep them off us. I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Another blast rocked the ship, but this time Emily retained her footing and carried on working the terminal. “Emily,” Reeve said, “this ship can’t take too much of a pounding. If it gets destroyed, your plan won’t work...” “I know. That’s why I’m relying on Jilly to take out the destroyer wing.” “She only has one ship.” “That ship is The Sunskimmer. She can do it.” She worked faster and faster, drawing on knowledge of Ancient Kelvan she hadn’t used for two centuries, and then in stuffy schoolroom in orbit of Osiris Prime. It was different seeing it as a living language, but she thought she had it. Another distant impact and the screen flickered.

“Emily!” Reeve shouted. “Just a second longer...” “This ship is going to be torn apart in a second!” The bounty hunter had another console active, and it looked like she’d figured out how to bring up a schematic of the ship they were on. Red alerts were blazing all over the hull. “We’re being bombarded!” “I’m almost done...” The console next to her shorted out and the bright flicker of plasma flames lashed at the bulkhead. Emily shied away with a wince. Her spacesuit would give her some protection, but not much. Her screen blinked out and now she was typing blind. She switched to another one and carried on from where she’d been a moment before. “I just need to link them all to my interface...” “Emily!” She only had time to glance up and see a wall of fire burst from the bulkhead just above her head before she felt herself being bowled to the floor. She landed with an impact which forced the air from her lungs and lay there dazed on the metal floor for a long moment. When she had her wits about her enough to roll free of Reeve’s embrace, she saw the bounty hunter was lying still, with scorch marks on her suit. The oxygen pack on her back had been cracked too, and she was leaking fumes into the airless room. “Shit...” She looked up and saw the plasma blast had died to a low flicker, but the heat was melting the console she was working at. She clambered to her feet, sparing only a quick glance for Reeve, and finished off setting her protocol. There was just a moment to wait while she configured her interface and then, satisfied it was done but with no time to double-check, she turned back to her prone companion. She unplugged the spare hose from her oxygen pack and plugged it into the port on Reeve’s suit in place of her own melted tubing and then hauled her to her feet with no small amount of effort. Shouldering the tall, unconscious woman, she staggered out of the burning bridge. In the non-existent atmosphere, the plasma fires would burn themselves out in a few minutes once the fuel had been expended, and now the ship was powered up the automatic damage controls would take care of it. She just had to get back to the shuttle and hope Jilly had handled the destroyers. Then she’d see if her plan had worked...

***

The Sunskimmer’s surgeon was not an Osirian noble. Some of the crew were professional spacefarers she’d picked up at various ports on her travels, and the grey, serious-faced Doctor Lorr was one of them. He was tending to the burns which covered most of Reeve’s shoulder as Emily looked on, concerned. Her black bodysuit was pulled down to reveal her arm, and she could see the scar tissue went further than her face, covering most of the left side of her body. She also saw the jagged tattoos scored into her flesh – the sort she wouldn’t expect to see on an asteroid miner. “I want to keep you in for observation,” Lorr said. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” “I can see that,” the doctor said with a thin smile. “I can do something about those scars if you want too.” “No,” Reeve said sharply. “You saved my life,” Emily told her. “And you saved mine.” She pointed to the cracked oxygen tank lying in the corner of the medical bay, next to her crumpled spacesuit. “I guess you owe me then, on balance,” Emily smiled, “since you did take a shot at me back on Waystation Kappa.” “I guess so. Plasma burns are no joke though.” There was an odd look in her eye as she said it. “Just where did you get those scars, Reeve?” “It’s a long story.” She pulled her sleeve back on over the biogauze plastered to her wounds and stood up stiffly. “Let’s get back to the bridge.” “Feel free to ignore my advice,” Lorr shrugged, “you’re my employer, not my patient, but tough as this woman is, she needs rest like anyone else.” “Rest is for the dead. And I’m not quite there yet, doc.”

The two women left the med bay and made their way back through the ship. “Just why did you save my life?” Emily asked. “I saw what you were doing.” “So?” “So I knew you needed to finish it, and I can’t read Ancient Kelvan. It wasn’t a hard choice.” “You could’ve died.” “What was it you said about antiphotons before?” On the bridge, Jilly vacated the captain’s chair and shot Emily a relieved look. “Welcome back, captain.” “Report,” Emily said curtly as she sat down. “We managed to drive off the destroyers. I think they had orders not to target us directly.” “I suppose the Lord iral still has some affection for me after all. It probably never occurred to him I was one of the bio-signs he detected on the Kelvan ship.” “Speaking of which,” Jilly went on, “it’s in pretty bad shape.” “As long as the computer core’s still intact, we’ll be fine.” “Emily, what are you planning?” “That’s up to Dracon,” she said again. “Well, you might have the chance to speak to him. His fleet are moving into orbit.” Emily took a deep breath. “Halib?” The sensor officer coughed politely. “Hard to get a count on exactly how many there are out there, captain. But at least a few hundred thousand.”

Reeve whistled between her teeth. “This could be quite the fight.” “We’ll see about that. Signal his flagship. I’m not in the mood for playing the waiting game.” It took a few minutes to get a response, but eventually the holoscreen lit up to reveal the sight of Lord iral Dracon reposed on a large command chair in an austere, military bridge. His ship was a huge Titan-class battleship, no doubt the pride of the Spacefleet. He cut a handsome figure, with the silver goatee and the broad shoulders of a military man. His tunic still displayed golden knots of rank and the collar of his uniform was teal. “Uncle,” Emily greeted him with a pasted-on smile, “what a pleasant surprise.” She tilted her head slightly. “Did you change your specialisation? Research to command? Quite an odd career move, especially at your age.” “These games are tiresome, Emily,” Dracon sneered. “I have a fleet establishing orbit around this world, as I’m sure your sensors tell you. You have one ship.” “I have The Sunskimmer.” “You got lucky last time we crossed paths, but then you had your father’s help, didn’t you?” “What’s that got to do with anything?” “It’s everything, Emily. You may be your father’s daughter, but you’re not your father. And you’re not Captain Ajax.” “The deeds of this ship disagree.” “You stole the ship.” He pointed through the holoscreen at Kit, sitting just below his field of vision. “Or rather that little twerp did.” “Hey, I didn’t steal anything – I got it fair and square.” “There was nothing fair about it, boy. The quartermaster at Commora’s marriage is in ruins thanks to you.” Kit laughed and was about to say something when Emily stood up and silenced

him with a raised hand. “Enough of this. You know by now I have control of the Kelvan fleet, Dracon.” “Yes,” he nodded, “I suspected you might be about to try something foolish. Tell me, how do you plan on using a ten-thousand-year-old flotilla of wrecks to fight the most powerful naval force in the known galaxy?” “You can detect how much firepower they have.” “I wonder if their targeting AI is as good a shot as my Spacefleet gunnery crews.” “There’s only one way to find out.” Dracon leant forward, folding his hands in front of him. “Emily, look at yourself. Look at your crew. You’re a few hundred wealthy scions from a backwater, in a stolen freighter at the end of the galaxy, with an arsenal of relics standing between you and annihilation. Do you think I want to hurt you? You’re family. I was your father’s right hand man for centuries. I just want what’s best for the Quadrants, as I always did.” “A military dictatorship?” “A strong hand. A bold vision for the future of humanity.” “A hand holding a fusion pistol. A vision of destruction.” “Says the girl who’s threatening to unleash apocalyptic forces she barely understands,” Dracon snarled. “When your ancient ships and my new ones start firing, how many lives do you think will be lost? No one understands the technology you’re playing these arrogant, childish games with. How many loyal Spacefleet crew must die to satisfy your vanity, your dreams of swashbuckling heroism?” “That isn’t what this is about...” “No? Then stand down. Your father, for all his boldness, knew when he was beaten. You’re going to get your crew killed and your beloved ship blown out of the sky. Give yourself up, and you’ll live a comfortable life on Lumina.”

“As a prisoner.” “As a guest. Which is more lenient than you deserve. I’ve worked hard to keep your name off the nodes, Emily, to keep news of your activities as quiet as possible.” Emily laughed. “But you still put a bounty on a woman ‘impersonating’ me, right?” Dracon frowned. “What?” Emily’s eyes flicked towards Reeve, but she had her gaze locked firmly on the holoscreen. “It doesn’t matter. Look, Dracon, you brought your crews here. You put them at risk, not me. How many ships did you lose to your vanity?” “I knew what you were coming here to find. The secret of Babylon’s rings is not as well kept as you imagine. I’m trying to stop you making a foolish mistake. Do you really want to start a war today?” “That’s up to you, Lord iral. Will you let me go peacefully with my ship and my crew?” Dracon sat back. “Now why would I ever do that? Your bargaining posture is very dubious, Emily.” “It’s Captain Ajax, actually.” She drew a hand across her throat to order Halib to cut the comm link before Dracon could reply and sat back down in her chair. “Okay, we have our answer.” “Emily,” Jilly said, “you can’t be serious about this.” “I’m deadly serious.” “But he’s right – you can’t control the Kelvan fleet. Even if their AIs are still functional, they can’t face down enemies controlled by living crews. They’ll be torn to pieces.” “I know. Kit, take us out of orbit and hold position over Babylon’s pole.” “Captain?” he asked.

“Just do it.” “Holding over the pole might give us some extra manoeuvrability,” Jilly said as she sat down in her chair, “but it’ll also affect our shields and our targeting matrices. It’s a bad place to start a war.” “Halib, tell me when all Dracon’s ships are in orbit.” They waited in silence as the ship’s thrusters manoeuvred them into position. Through the holoscreen, they could see the rings of Babylon ri above them in a huge, many-hued arc that took up almost all of the sky. Against the reflected glow from the drifting ice, they could see tiny shadows as thousands upon thousands of ships took up their positions beside their ancient Kelvan counterparts. A planet had many stable orbits, but the easiest one to find was on the equatorial plane, like the rings and moons. Spacefleet standard procedure when approaching a world was to take up such an orbit as quickly and efficiently as possible. Squadrons of ships moved together, column after column of mighty cruisers, escort and destroyer wings already in formation, but all skimming just above or below the rings, as close as was safe. “Message Dracon,” Emily said softly, “give him one last chance to surrender.” “He’s ignoring us,” Halib reported back. “Pity. Are they all in orbit now?” “They are.” “Emily,” Jilly said again, “if you unleash those ships here, there’s no telling what might happen. This is going to be the most destructive space battle in history. And we’re going to lose. As your XO, I’m asking you again not to start a war.” Emily stood up. “I’m not starting a war – I’m ending one.” She lifted her wrist and spoke into her interface. “Execute protocol Ajax Omega.” It took a moment for the signal to reach the Kelvan flagship, and as they watched it started slowly. First one flare of blue light, then another close by. It started to ripple through the rings, one after the other, and then flashes of orange as asteroids and ice-chunks were caught in the explosions. Soon, the rings were speckled with blossoms of fire. Jilly’s mouth dropped open.

Halib gaped at her console. “The tidal drives of the Kelvan ships are all overloading...they’re tearing themselves apart! The entire fleet is...” “Self-destructing,” Reeve finished, a tone of satisfaction in her voice. Emily nodded grimly as the rings of Babylon turned red. The explosions began to build in power and intensity and a chain reaction swept across the debris field. A great wave of fire pushed outwards and, stark in the bright flames, the tiny specks of Dracon’s ships being swept along, knocked out of orbit, sent spiralling to their doom. They began to flee desperately, but now a shockwave erupted upwards from their perspective as, in one terrifying moment, the entire immense ring system was blown away into space, leaving nothing but dying embers in its wake. “You blew them up!” Kit breathed. “I had to,” Emily said. “This was the largest arsenal in the galaxy. I couldn’t risk Dracon using it for himself.” “But...the Spacefleet ships...” Jilly stammered. “I wasn’t sure they’d come. Dracon forced my hand.” “Captain,” Halib said, “you disabled or destroyed most of the iral’s fleet, but there are hundreds still operational – including his flagship – and they’re heading this way!” “Kit,” Emily said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “is Babylon large enough to put power into the tidal drive? It’s a failed star, right?” “Um...sure...but I don’t know how far we’ll get...” “To the system’s star?” “Maybe...” “Do it!” “Okay, but the destruction of the rings is causing all kinds of gravitic distortions. I don’t know if I can plot a course. If something goes wrong, we could end up

almost anywhere!” “Anywhere is a damn sight better than looking down the barrel of Dracon’s guns. Punch it!”

***

Hours later, as they cruised along at transluminal velocity, with Kit still trying to figure out what direction they were going, Emily found Reeve in an otherwisedeserted mess, forking the contents of a can of protein concentrate into her mouth. She took a seat opposite and they sat in silence for a moment. “Reminds me of being a kid,” Reeve said, pointing down to the can with her fork. “I’m sure you’ve got better food on board, but sometimes nostalgia is the best taste of all.” “Right. I’ve eaten my share of synthetic crap as well. I wasn’t an asteroid miner of course but then, neither were you.” Reeve set her fork down and met Emily’s eyes. “What makes you say that?” “Your tattoos. Those are Raider markings.” “The Darkstar Raiders have been extinct for two-hundred years thanks to your father.” “And are you as young as you look, Reeve?” The bounty hunter gave her a cryptic look and picked up her fork again. “Now that would be telling...” “When you first came on board and told us your story, Jilly said something to me.” “Oh?”

“She said I didn’t deserve your loyalty.” “Does that woman even like you?” Emily smiled. “She’s like a sister to me. Sometimes sisters have disagreements.” “I wouldn’t know.” “Do you know why I don’t deserve your loyalty?” “No.” “Because Captain Ajax isn’t the man you and the rest of the Quadrants think he is.” “Is that so?” “You saved my life, so I owe you the truth. The Darkstar Wars were a lie. Kyle Blackheart, the Darkstar Emperor, was an engineered threat, a clone sent to whip the Raiders into bloodlust. He was created by my father and Dracon to give the Free Planets an excuse to push forward their military expansion, to manufacture a credible threat to the galaxy. They were playing both sides. So, you see, my father didn’t save you from a life of slavery – he was the cause of it.” Reeve chewed thoughtfully. “I didn’t know that,” she said after a while. “Well...not all of it.” Emily narrowed her eyes. “So what did you know?” “I knew Blackheart was a clone. It wasn’t too hard to figure out the rest.” “So why did you save my life?” “Like I said, I saw what you were doing.” “You’re not a bounty hunter, are you?” “No. I came here to find you though.” “Why?”

“To see who you were, what you’d do. I wanted to know if you were a warmonger like your father, or if you really believed in peace. You answered my question aboard the Kelvan ship.” Emily sat back in her chair. Much of the mess was in shadow at this late hour. They might have been the only two women in the world. “Who are you?” Reeve finished off her protein concentrate and pushed the can to one side. “You saved my life back there too, so I suppose I also owe you the truth. My parents weren’t asteroid miners. They were Raiders.” “Is your name really Reeve?” “Yes. Reeve Blackheart. I’m Kyle Blackheart’s daughter.” Emily stared at her. “But...but he was a clone...engineered to be a monster...” “He was. Who do you think gave me these scars?” Reeve stood up. “I don’t hold any grudge against your father, Emily Ajax, but I too have a legacy to contend with. We’re both finding our way in this universe, you and I, but somehow I think our destinies are always going to be intertwined. Goodnight.” Emily stared into the deepening gloom of the mess, and tried to understand what this all meant. Somehow, she knew if her father were here, he’d be laughing right now. She didn’t quite see the funny side though.

SEVEN

Emily Ajax ducked underneath the pipework which dominated the cramped engine room and crouched beside Tarq, The Sunskimmer’s chief engineer, at least unofficially. He was a tall, handsome man whose parents had been wealthy enough to indulge his interest in starship engineering growing up. The facility they owned orbiting Osiris Tertius had docking bays full of hulks in various states of disrepair, everything from sublight yachts to the decaying remnants of a Jaxian escort, claimed from who-knows-where. Right now, for once in his life, he didn’t look happy to be getting into the guts of a spaceship though. “How does it look?” she asked him. He rubbed his square jaw thoughtfully and then gave an expansive shrug. In front of them was one of the great, throbbing power conduits of the ship’s tidal drive, the technological miracle which propelled them at transluminal velocity across the cosmos. Except now it was inert, and the blue glow had faded to a cold, fitful spark somewhere in the depths of the indecipherable tubing stretching up to the ceiling. This was just one section of the vast and complex machinery which made up the main reactor and to Emily, who was at best a dabbler in this kind of thing, it meant almost nothing. Tarq moved his finger up the nearest section of tubing. “From what I can tell, Captain, we’ve lost power transmission to this whole section.” Emily nodded. She’d known Tarq socially for decades but he, like the rest of the crew, had switched fairly seamlessly to referring to her as Captain Ajax. A matter of months ago these men and women were spoilt Osirian nobles, more used to parties than adventures in deep space, but now they lived the lives of outlaws and freedom fighters. At least when The Sunskimmer could fly. “Is it an issue with the ion capacitors?” She knew from her father it was a recurrent problem on the kind of freighter this ship had been adapted from. “Could well be, yeah,” Tarq said, “but it could be something more serious. Either way, I really want to replace this whole section of the engine.”

Emily looked up at the conduits. “How long will that take?” “Time isn’t really the issue: I don’t have the parts.” “We don’t carry spares?” Tarq shook his head. “This ship was mothballed, ? There could be some pieces we can use to fabricate a working replacement on board, but it could take months to search through all the crates and boxes in the cargo bays. And by then we’ll probably be out of food.” “Where can we get new parts?” “Replacing tidal drives is routine maintenance – any facility in the Free Planets could fabricate a compatible conduit in days, if they didn’t have one already to hand.” He patted the nearest bulkhead almost affectionately. “These old girls were supposed to be hauling ore across space for centuries between services. They built them to last, and to be easy to repair. She can take almost any conduit manufactured in the last thousand years.” “The trouble is getting one while we’re here…” Emily said. “Right.” Tarq sighed and shrugged again. “Okay, see what you can find for now, I’ll work on getting us the technology we need.” As she clambered out of the engine room’s access door and back into the more spacious corridors of The Sunskimmer’s habitable areas she reflected that technology was exactly the problem. Reeve was waiting for her. “How does it look?” she asked, unconsciously echoing the captain. “Bad,” Emily said. “We need a replacement conduit.” Reeve barked a laugh. “Good luck. Of all the inhabited systems we had to find ourselves in, we wound up here.” Here was Parth. Kit’s unguided transluminal jump at Babylon had flung them across the sector and they’d finally managed to slow to sublight speed around one of the hot blue giants of the Parth system. That they’d even ended up in a civilised system was in itself a minor miracle, and Emily had thanked the fates they hadn’t had their molecules scattered across deep space, but the erratic

navigation had taken its toll on the engine and now they were stuck here, limping towards the inhabited worlds with their ion drive alone. And what then? Parth was the one place in the Quadrant where they’d never find what they were looking for. “There must be something. This used to be a hub for trade and exploration,” Emily said as they headed back to the bridge. “Five-hundred years ago maybe. Now whatever technology is left has been declared contraband by this cult.” Emily nodded. “I know. But I can’t believe there isn’t someone on these planets who can point us to a junkyard or something. Tarq said almost any conduit would work. All I need is a wreck we can claim as salvage. Or buy, if it comes to it. I don’t think Dracon and Spacefleet are going to find us here.” “How much do you think your money’s worth here?” Reeve asked as they stepped into the elevator. “We can trade.” “With what? They don’t want your tech, and that’s been your one advantage out here on the edges of inhabited space.” “Well,” Emily said, starting to get frustrated, “we can’t stay here, can we? Unless you plan to start a career as a goat herder planetside.” “I’m just helping you reason through the situation, Captain.” Reeve gave Emily a small smile, but it was hardly reassuring on her disfigured face. They stepped out onto the bridge where Jilly relinquished the command chair to Emily. “How does it look?” Emily narrowed her eyes as she sat down. “It looks bad, Jilly. We need a replacement conduit.” “We’ll never get that in Parth,” she said. “I already told her that,” Reeve interrupted.

Jilly looked at Reeve. The two women hadn’t exactly hit it off since she’d been aboard, and Emily hadn’t yet found the right opportunity to explain to her XO who the strange woman really was – as far as she knew, she was just an asteroid miner from the Darkstar Nebula who idolised Captain Ajax – the first Captain Ajax, Emily’s father – and had seamlessly transferred her loyalty to The Sunskimmer’s current commander. It wasn’t important right now though. “We need to find a replacement somewhere in this system – preferably on the closest planet since it’s going to take us weeks to haul ourselves around this dump. Kit, what’s our position?” Kit pressed some of the holokeys on his console and pursed his lips at the readout. “A day or so out from Parth Majoris, the system capital on this vector.” “We might want to steer clear of there,” Reeve advised. “I agree,” Jilly said, a little too quickly. “That’s where the main power base is for these zealots. They won’t take kindly to us showing up on their doorstep.” “I know,” Emily said, shooting both women annoyed looks. “We came through here a few months ago. I had my fill of them then, but I don’t see we have a lot of choice. It’s our best shot of finding what we need.” “How do you think we should proceed, captain?” Jilly asked, taking her seat next to Emily. “We’re going to have to go down there and ask around, I guess.” “Is that a good idea?” Reeve asked. She stood a little awkwardly at the back of the bridge, since she had no official capacity on the The Sunskimmer. “No, but it’s the only one we have. Like I said before, there was a time when this system was on all the trade routes through this sector. When the stars’ volatility increased, that all changed, but there has to be technology left over from the period. And someone who hates the zealots who’ve seized power as much as we do who can help – maybe in exchange for age off-world?” The holoscreen showed the distant gleam of Parth Majoris up ahead, just a bright smear in the far distance. More prominent were the two huge blue stars which dominated the system – the Eyes of God, as they were known to the locals. Their close proximity to one another had always caused dangerous gravitational

fluctuations which made the planets orbiting them incredibly harsh, but half a millennium ago the destabilisation process had undergone a sharp acceleration and the stars had entered fractionally closer orbit that looked set to doom them for good. They’d been feeding off each other rapidly since then – a great band of super-heated hydrogen snaked between them, lashing the entire inner system with deadly radiation. The worlds orbiting the stars had always been arid, but as the apocalyptic forces of this plasma exchange boiled away the gas giants leaving only a handful of terrestrial worlds baking in the heat, they’d been turned into even more hellish deserts, their surviving human inhabitants hiding from the daytime glare in crumbling hab-domes. In this hostile environment, a new religious movement had festered and seized power. They rejected technology in all its forms and had no compunctions about enforcing their commandments with lethal violence if necessary. Last time they’d been through here, they’d stopped at one of the few orbital facilities left in the system and most of the people living there were already arranging to leave. The same facility was now little more than a wreck in a decaying orbit of Parth Mundus, depopulated by the new order and finally ripped apart by the chaotic gravitational shears of the stars. Parth was dying and, when a man lives on a doomed world, it had been Emily’s observation he often turned to his gods for salvation. It was troubling. “We have no choice,” she said, watching the roiling stars in their erratic orbit, “I don’t plan to stay here any longer than I have to. Take us to the planet and establish an orbit, Kit.”

***

Spacefleet had all manner of protocols about organising a landing party – whether the captain should go themselves (almost never except where it might be diplomatically prudent), how many security officers should go (rarely fewer than a full squad), which senior staff had priority (determined according to a risk matrix draw up by the XO prior to the mission and cross-referenced with the relevant regulations), and how heavily armed they should all be (generally sidearms were encouraged). Emily was a privateer – or at least her father had been – and, like him, she cheerfully ignored such things. She took Jilly and Reeve with her in the shuttle and piloted it herself, since she was the most adept at it. The Sunskimmer itself was a unique ship, a retrofitted ore freighter lovingly upgraded over hundreds of years by the first Captain Ajax, but its shuttles were hardly luxurious. Jilly strapped herself in with a grimace. “I’m not looking forward to this, Emily,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Relax – I won’t let anything happen to you.” “It’s not that,” she said, checking through the holoscreen on her side of the cockpit. At the moment it only showed the interior of the shuttle bay. “Then what?” Emily pressed. “Oh, nothing. It isn’t important.” Emily gave her XO a slight frown, but got on with the launch procedure. The shuttle glided smoothly from the bay and out into space. The stars shone feebly in this system, confronted with the blue glow from the so-called Eyes of God. Parth Majoris was a brown expanse beneath them, with a horizon gently curving away beneath the pale glow of a thin atmosphere. The stellar wind would burn it away in a few thousand years most likely. It was a wonder the people hadn’t simply migrated en masse by now – they must know their world would soon be uninhabitable. The planet was dominated by a single, vast ocean which covered maybe a third of its surface area. It was visible as a swathe of paler brown

through the cloudless atmosphere. Even before the stars had begun to tear the system apart, the ocean was mostly mud; now all that remained was a colossal salt basin. Emily had no clear idea how the population could survive without the water reclamation technology they’d relied on for so long, but she didn’t have the time to think about it right now. She took the shuttle down, leaving The Sunskimmer’s reassuring shape behind them and heading for a landing site several miles outside of the largest city – if it could even be called one – where they were less likely to attract attention. There was very little chance they wouldn’t be noticed in the clear sky, but the alternative was trying to enter the city at night, and they knew a curfew was in place. In either case, they’d be unwelcome outsiders, but Emily was confident the three of them had the tools to handle any problems they might face. The landing site was near to a cluster of rocky spires. As they stepped out into the scorching air of the desert which stretched glassily off in all directions, the air was nearly driven from Emily’s lungs by the heat. She stepped aside, resting against the shuttle’s hull before pulling her hand away with an unbecoming yelp. Even their short flight was long enough to heat the metal to an uncomfortably high temperature. Jilly walked out of the cabin next and puffed out her cheeks as she took in their surroundings. “Well this is…” “A hellhole,” Emily surmised. Jilly nodded and stepped down onto the surface. She lost her footing for a moment and Emily grabbed her arm. “I’m fine,” Jilly said. “Heat getting to you already?” Emily asked her with a smile. “No. I just…I’ve never been that comfortable planetside.” Jilly, like most of The Sunskimmer’s crew, had spent almost her entire life in the artificial gravity and atmosphere of space stations and starships. The uncertain conditions of a planet could be discomfiting. “This is horrible,” Reeve said, standing at the door and shielding her eyes with her hand. “I know,” Emily said. “Think you can handle it?” “If I can handle hard vacuum, I can handle this desert,” she shrugged.

“At least vacuum is cold,” Jilly said, looking out at the bleak horizon. The land around was completely flat except for the rocky protrusions off to one side which rose from the earth like the hands of some fossilised titan. The twin stars seemed to take up most of the sky, blue-white furnaces beating down on them, turning the sky almost colourless with their intensity. “Why would anyone want to live here?” “I was wondering the same myself,” Emily said. “People don’t always have the luxury of choosing,” Reeve said, stepping out onto the ground. Despite the flexible black bodysuit she wore, she seemed untroubled by the heat. “Which way, Captain?” Emily consulted her interface via the port on her wrist. The holo-map didn’t show up well in the bright light, but she cupped her hand and got an idea of the general direction. “That way,” she said, pointing beyond the rock spires. “The city is called Koth. Not one of the most cosmopolitan settlements in the Quadrants, as you might imagine, but it’s our best shot.” Reeve nodded. “Then let’s go and get out of there as soon as we can.” They saw the haze over Koth before anything else, and Emily directed them towards the road leading to the gates. Visible ahead of them was what appeared to be a low ridge, ri to meet the empty horizon. The road itself was obviously the remnant of some earlier age of this world, a modern highway gradually being consumed by the desert. It was fragmented but, crucially, not overgrown. In fact, they hadn’t seen a scrap of vegetation since their arrival. They trudged slowly towards the ridgeline in the punishing heat, ing a water bottle between them. All three were hardened spacefarers, and Emily and Jilly had both received extensive rejuvenation treatments to extend their lives and improve their stamina and resilience. Emily had good reasons for suspecting the same of Reeve, and if anything she appeared even less concerned with the heat than she and Jilly. More often than not she would wave the canteen away. After a short while, they caught up to a caravan making its way up the road. They were local people, dressed in pale robes covering them almost from head to foot. They rode on wains drawn by oxen and a herdsman was driving goats beside them. The animals looked thin and sickly. Emily nodded to the Parthians in the caravan, but received only blank stares in return.

“We may be a little conspicuous,” Jilly said. “We could dress like them,” Reeve suggested, “maybe they can sell us some of their robes?” Emily glanced sideways at the ragged garments the shepherd was wearing and shook her head. “No. The second we open our mouths, they’ll know we’re from offworld anyway. It won’t make a difference.” “It might keep the heat off at least,” Jilly said. “Do you think they’ll take our money? Do they even use credits here?” Reeve nodded towards one of the women riding on the caravan. She wore a pendant around her neck with a symbol like two circles on it. “I don’t think you’ll get far with them. These seem to be of the faithful. They reject all material possessions.” “What about the goats?” Jilly asked. Reeve could only shrug. They carried on their slow progress, leaving the caravan behind and began to climb slowly towards the top of the ridge. Looking left and right along the edge of the rise, it seemed to curve slightly away from them in both directions, and Emily understood the reason when she reached the top and got her first look at Koth. The whole city was built in the bowl of a vast crater. Standing high on the edge, they were looking down on what appeared to be nothing so much as a huge debris field. Emily could see the familiar shapes of fuselages and hull fragments, engine parts and cabin modules. This was the remains of a ship, cannibalised long ago to build hab modules. Much of the rest of the city was constructed from crumbling baked mud structures or even just tents and lean-tos, all arranged in no order she could discern. “You know the story of this place, don’t you?” Reeve asked in a low voice. “The galaxy’s a big place,” Emily said, “enlighten me.” “A starship was brought down here thousands of years ago in some war or other. This was the impact crater. Survivors crawled out of the wreckage and sent out distress calls. In response, their enemies – whoever they were – bombarded the whole planet into oblivion. There used to be jungles and savannah here.”

Emily held a hand over her eyes and looked over Koth. She could well believe the tale. “What happened to the crew?” “Some say a few withstood the bombardment and survived by eating the supplies not destroyed in the crash and, eventually, the bodies of their dead. Sometime later – years or decades, who knows? – someone came back to this place and built the city here. Some people say the surviving crew helped them found it and became its rulers, others that they were driven out into the desert and even now plot their revenge on the usurpers.” Jilly looked at Reeve. “Their descendants, you mean?” “Don’t ask me,” she shrugged, starting to make her way down the other side of the crater’s lip, “it’s just the story.” “More ghosts,” Emily smiled. Privately though, the story discomfited her. No doubt some terrible events had taken place here – the starship remains were evidence enough – and that had probably wormed its way into the psyches of the people who lived here today. What was it like to live beneath the glare of those two harsh suns, in a city built on the graveyard of cannibals? She was more determined than ever to get off this planet as soon as possible.

***

The three women attracted more attention as they entered the city. Koth proved even more labyrinthine than it had appeared from above. People seemed to be moving in small groups towards the centre though, and Emily recalled seeing an open plaza from the ridge. The air was thick and choked with smog at ground level. “For people with no technology, they seem to burn solid fuels a lot…” Reeve sniffed the air. “That’s not fuel. They’re burning something else.” As they approached the plaza, the crowds got heavier. Most of the Parthians were dressed the same way, in ragged, stained robes which covered them almost

completely, but there were a few noticeable exceptions in the form of dark-robed figures who moved easily through the throng. Emily had known enough soldiers in her life to be able to spot men and women whose calling was organised violence, and from the now-familiar symbols on their breasts, she could see who enforced order in Koth. She gently guided the others to the edges of streets when these figures strode past. They were a few other offworlders in amongst the crowds; traders and even a privateer or two. Although traffic was stymied in this system, and trade strangled by the religious movement, evidently there were others who, like them, had found themselves here by some strange chance. Emily watched them carefully, trying to guess their motives, wondering if they were potential obstacles or allies. All it would take would be one of them to recognise her and casually mention they’d seen the famous Emily Ajax on some backwater planet during an interstellar communiqué and the Free Planets would discover her whereabouts within days. And then Dracon would bring what remained of his fleet to find her. Thankfully, all of the outsiders she saw appeared dishevelled and intent on whatever their business might be. This was not a place for the prosperous. Eventually they reached the plaza they’d seen, a large open area which had once been paved, but was now a ruin of scarred rubble where concrete had been torn up to reveal ravaged desert underneath. At the centre was a towering piece of starship, which had obviously been used in ages past to form some sort of municipal focus point, like a town hall. Emily shielded her eyes as she looked up at it. “Is this just wishful thinking,” she asked Jilly, “or is that the core of a tidal drive?” Jilly tilted her head. “I think it might be. It’s a pretty old model.” “If it’s from the original crash, it will be,” Reeve said. Emily started to get excited. “Do you think it could be compatible?” “Maybe, if you can haul it out of the ground,” she said doubtfully. “Or if she doesn’t burn it first…” Emily’s gaze followed where Reeve was pointing and she saw a woman wearing the same black robes she’d seen on the soldiers standing on a crude dais constructed from reclaimed and rusted starship parts. There were a few bonfires burning at the base of the scaffolding and she was lifting her arms and ranting in

the unintelligible Parthian dialect. It was obvious from how she was gesturing though the crumbling tidal drive, half-buried in the desert sand, would be the target of the next conflagration. “I think we need to…” she started, but was shoved aside by the caravan they’d met on the road earlier, heading into the plaza with the rest of the people. Emily frowned and saw what the people were doing, and what they were burning. They were all lining up to throw their possessions into the flames – clothes, trinkets, carts, children’s toys and even their livestock, screaming as the black-clad guards bound them to stakes in the bonfires. “What is this?” she breathed. “They’re giving their possessions to god,” Reeve guessed, pointing up at the two suns glaring balefully down on the gruesome scene. “This is insanity,” Jilly said. “This is religion. Or something like it.” “But how are they going to survive?” Emily said. “They’ll starve.” “They’re doomed anyway,” Reeve told her, taking a grip on her elbow, “this place is a wasteland. The people who founded this dump had to eat each other to survive, and things don’t seem to have improved much. We can laser the engine right out of the bedrock though if we have to.” “Not without killing a lot of people,” Emily said as she shouldered free of Reeve’s grasp. “How long do you give them now they’re burning their goats alive, Emily?” “We shouldn’t get involved, Captain,” Jilly said. “Is that what my father would have done? Just left them to this madness?” “You aren’t your father,” Reeve said. “No, but I have to do something. I’m going to the ship and…” She already had her wrist raised to her mouth, pulling her sleeve back to reveal her interface port, and too late she saw the looming figure step out of the crowd and grab her arm. “Hey!”

“Contraband,” growled a voice from beneath the deep black hood. “Let me go,” Emily said, trying to pull herself free. The guard’s grip was strong. “You’ll regret it if you don’t, trust me…” She had any number of devices on her person which could get her out of this situation, but they were attracting attention now and she had a feeling there were a lot of ways she could make things worse. “Let her go,” Reeve said, and Emily turned her head to see the woman aiming one of her cruel pistols straight at the guard. A hush fell over the crowd close by and the guard did as he was told, stumbling back with his hands raised. “We should get out of here,” Emily said, but now there were other guards closing in on them and, without warning, the distinct kree of laser fire discharging into the air. The men in black didn’t practice what they preached; they were armed. “Emily!” Jilly called out. She had a fusion pistol in her hand too, and Emily lifted a hand to order her XO to stand down, but now the crowd were in chaos, running in all directions as lasers started firing. Emily was bowled over and rolled to one side of the street. She tried to scramble up to her feet, but there were hands on her, pulling her towards a tent flap and she was in no position to fight back as she watched the black-robed soldiers close in on Jilly and Reeve and bear them to the ground. The shadows of the tent closed in over her.

EIGHT

Kit was uneasy in the big chair, and his hands moved nervously on the cracked leather arms. He’d sat here before plenty of times – like the whole trip back from the Comorra shipyards where The Sunskimmer had been mothballed – but back then he’d had nothing else in mind besides the look on Emily’s face when she saw the surprise he’d brought. He’d had no idea his little act of generosity to cheer up a frustrated friend would lead to all this gallivanting around the galaxy, dodging Spacefleet patrols and fighting for their lives in orbit of half-legendary planets. Like the rest of the crew, he’d been changed by his experiences and, paradoxically, he was even more nervous left in command now. He knew what was at stake. “How long has it been, Halib?” he asked the willowy woman at the console behind him. “A few hours.” “Still nothing from Jilly or the Captain?” Halib gave him a flat look. “Don’t you think I’d patch them through right away?” “All right. Show me a scan of the surface again.” He waved his hand at the holoscreen in what he hoped was a commanding fashion. Halib sighed and the screen changed to show another view of the planet, focussed on the capital of Koth. The sensors’ resolution was poor when their signals were diffracted through an atmosphere – they were designed for detecting objects in space. The image was blocky and indistinct, so it was hard to tell it was even a city down there. Biological scans were almost impossible too, with the hundreds of thousands of inhabitants all crowded into the relatively small space. “Maybe we should signal them ourselves?” Kit suggested. “You’re the one in command,” Halib said, tapping her fingers irritably against the console.

“I know. But…what do you think?” “I think if Emily’s interface chimes while she’s negotiating with those backward yokels, she might be in trouble.” “That’s true…” “But, it has been a while now. She ought to have had the chance to get away and let us know how things were going.” “Yes…yes, exactly.” Kit rubbed his smooth jaw thoughtfully. The command structure on the ship was a little sketchy. He was probably Emily’s oldest friend, but Jilly was obviously a better choice for XO, and he was a pretty good pilot which made him a good fit for the helm. Everyone pretty much just did whatever their interests or experience suited them for. That’s why Emily was the Captain, after all. Plus it was her ship. Kit didn’t fit in the chair. Kit was not one of life’s decision makers. “Let’s leave them for a bit,” he finally said. “I’m sure everything’s okay.” “If you say so, sir,” Halib said in a tone which made sure Kit could practically hear her eyes rolling.

***

Jilly moved her shoulder in its socket with a wince. “You’d think they’d give me some ice or something…” “I take it this is your first time in a prison cell?” Reeve asked her. The larger woman was squatting on the floor, idly tracing patterns in the dust. Somehow, despite the heat and their situation, she looked totally at ease. When she glanced up, her dark eyes had a piercing intensity, even in the dim light of the small room. “I guess bounty hunters don’t just put other people in places like this then?” Jilly was in one corner, hunched up and aching from her rough treatment at the hands of the guards. She wasn’t much of a fighter, unlike Reeve, who had more than held her own. Not that it had done them any good in the end. “It’s a dangerous vocation,” Reeve said. She stood up and crossed the short distance to the back wall, where a narrow grate itted a thin sliver of the pale light from outside. “At least we have a window.” “Not much of one.” “And this.” She nudged the filthy bucket by the wall with her boot. “Trust me, things could be a lot worse.” Jilly curled her lip. “Maybe for you. I’m not used to this kind of thing.” “Whose fault is that?” “Excuse me?” “Sorry,” Reeve said, turning back to her. “I’m not helping. I’m pissed off too.” Jilly wasn’t angry. She was scared, but she doubted Reeve had ever been frightened in her life. “What do you think they’ll do with us?”

Reeve looked towards the heavy iron door set in the opposite wall. “I don’t think these guys are the merciful type. Hopefully it’ll be quick.” She caught Jilly’s eye and tried a disarming smile which didn’t really work. “Sorry. Don’t worry – I think the captain will find a way to get us out of this.” “Did you see where she went?” “No. But you know her better than me. Would she have headed back to the shuttle to get help?” Jilly thought about it. “No. She’d have leapt right in, guns blazing, and she’d probably be in here with us.” “That means someone found her first. Let’s hope they’re on our side.” “What is our side?” Jilly asked. “We’ve got no business being on this planet, getting involved. I should have insisted Emily stay aboard The Sunskimmer.” “She’d never have listened. She’s her father’s daughter, like everybody keeps saying.” “Right,” Jilly nodded, “and that’s the whole problem.” Reeve lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Do you know how her parents met?” “No…” “Her father, the first Captain Ajax, came to Osiris when he was a privateer, just him and The Sunskimmer.” “Before he was famous?” “Oh he was famous…just not yet the hero of the Four Quadrants. Well, back then the whole Osiris system was ruled over by the Gorgon Cartel. Most of the population were indentured workers, labouring in the lithium-harvesting plants in the gas giants’ lower atmospheres. Ajax had just come there to trade for an upgraded sensor filter, but he was so horrified by what he saw he felt the need to get involved.”

“Ah, I see,” Reeve nodded. “Now it makes sense. So who was her mother?” “Kolena Drummer, the leader of a resistance movement which seized control of a few plants on Osiris Prime. Ajax helped them mount an assault on the Gorgon Cartel’s orbitals by piloting a stolen ore tanker secretly upgraded with weapons from The Sunskimmer. He was supposed to leave after, but he stuck around.” “And one thing led to another, right?” “I’m sure you know the stories about Captain Ajax. And Kolena was a very beautiful woman. By the time he left, the Osirian slaves were poised to overthrow their masters, and Gorgon himself had a hole in his chest even surgeons couldn’t fix courtesy of Ajax’s fusion pistol.” “Sounds like a fun adventure…” Jilly smiled slightly. “It was one of my favourite stories growing up.” “So when did Emily come along?” Reeve was squatting on the floor again but this time Jilly had her undivided attention. “Ajax always told Kolena he’d come back and, for once, he was as good as his word. Years later, when the Darkstar Wars were just beginning, Spacefleet used Osiris as a staging point. They reconnected and Emily was the result.” “Did they ever marry?” Jilly shook her head. “They went their separate ways. I don’t think Kolena ever planned to get pregnant. She was a better freedom fighter than a mother.” “That’s a shame. But it explains why she idolises her father so much.” “Captain Ajax doted on her. She travelled all over the galaxy with him – we all did; me and Kit and the others.” She smiled fondly at the memories. “Kolena was a remarkable woman. She was the First Minister of Osiris Prime until the day she died, but Emily’s eyes were opened to a whole universe thanks to her father. She’d never be content with being a one-system revolutionary. She wants to save the Quadrants.” Reeve ran a hand through the unruly braids which grew from the unshaved side

of her scalp and looked around the cell, seemingly deep in thought. “You said her mother died?” “Uh huh. A century-and-a-half ago. She didn’t believe in rejuvenation treatments.” “I see. And what about you?” “What about me?” Jilly asked guardedly. “You were her friend growing up?” “One of them. She was rich and famous. She still is.” “Right. But it’s more than that. You’re very protective of her.” Jilly shifted uncomfortably. “What makes you say so?” “The way you are with me. You don’t trust me. You don’t understand how I fit into all this.” “What does it have to do with Emily?” “So it’s true?” “Of course it’s true – you tried to kill her!” “It’s a bit more complicated than that.” “Yes: you tried to kill her to claim the bounty on her head.” “You don’t get a bounty for a corpse, Jilly.” “Then why shoot?” “Like I said…it’s complicated…” “There you go then. We all have complicated feelings about Emily.” “Ah,” Reeve said with a gleam in her eye, “is that it then? You’re in love with her?”

“What? No! I mean…I used to have a little crush on her when I was younger. We all did. She’s Emily Ajax. The richest woman in the Quadrant, the daughter of a living legend. She was…exciting. We idolised her. But it’s not like that now.” “So what is it like?” “It’s just…” Jilly didn’t know how to explain it properly to this brutish woman, a virtual stranger who’d been dumped into her life. “It’s just…I’m her XO…” she finished feebly. “But you’re all just playing at being starship crew, Jilly. What does it matter?” Reeve’s tone was surprisingly soft. “I know but…but you have to understand, none of us ever did anything for ourselves. We’re all defined by our parents and their achievements, Emily most of all. I know you look at us like we’re a bunch of spoiled rich kids, and you’re right, but this is our chance to make some sort of difference in the galaxy. To actually give something back. I’m not XO because of how wealthy my mother’s Cartel is; I’m XO because Emily trusts me to give her good advice and keep calm when situations are dangerous. I’m here because I deserve to be, at least in her eyes.” She let out a hollow laugh and wiped at her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Except ‘here’ is the inside of a dingy cell on some hellhole of a backwater, probably facing certain death with a woman I hardly know.” “It’s okay,” Reeve said, “we’re going to get out of this.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because I trust Captain Ajax.” “Why?” “It’s complicated,” she replied with a smirk which actually managed to soften her scarred features. “But she’s won my loyalty, like she’s won yours. So we have that. There’s no reason we have to act like we aren’t on the same side. I’m not going to take anything from you.” “I know,” Jilly said, “but we can’t just wait for Emily to save us. When you were in a cell like this before, how did you escape?”

“Who said I escaped?” Reeve asked darkly, “But you’re right. Let’s come up with a plan.”

***

It took Emily a second for her eyes to adjust to the gloom inside the tent. When she could finally see properly, she frowned at the hunched shapes on the other side, Parthians in their heavy robes. “Who are you?” “That isn’t important at the moment, Emily Ajax,” a man’s voice said. He was sitting at the head of the group. All she could see of his face was a dark, stubbled jaw beneath his hood. “How do you know who I am?” “Everyone in the Four Quadrants knows you.” “Even here? Do you spend a lot of time on network nodes in the city which burns its livestock to please a god?” A chuckle came from the robed figure. “We’re not all so…strict…in our interpretation of the texts, Miss Ajax.” “It’s Captain Ajax, actually.” The man inclined his head slightly. “So the rumours are true. Very well, Captain. Nonetheless, you find yourself in fortunate company.” “Is that so?” “Yes. In this city, there are maybe a few dozen people who might help you. You’re sitting with five of them.” Emily peered at the swaddled shapes in the shadows. “So tell me who you are.”

The man pulled back his hood, and Emily stared into the blue eyes of a strikingly handsome man, perhaps in his mid- to late-thirties, with dark hair cut in the short Parthian style and an easy smile. “My name is David. I’m a member of a group fighting for the freedom of our people from the Exposed.” “The…Exposed…?” “The fanatics. Their leader is Gana, the woman you saw giving the speech out there.” “Okay. What does it have to do with me?” “I believe we can help each other. We came here intending to disrupt the demonstration, but you and your friends did that for us.” “I want to help you,” she itted, “but right now I just need to get back to my ship. I need to signal them. When I’m on board, I can really make a difference, but not before I’ve helped my friends. Do you know what might have happened to them?” “The Exposed always put heretics on trial. They’ll be prisoners.” “Where?” David held up a hand. “One thing at a time. You won’t be able to save them. The prison compound is well protected.” “I have weapons…” “So do they.” Emily shifted. The tent was low and the ground was uncomfortable. Her behind was starting to go numb. “But I thought the whole point of this religion was rejection of technology? Is this Gana woman a complete hypocrite?” “In some ways. In the eyes of their followers, the Exposed’s hierarchy put their own souls at risk by using technology. They’re martyrs.” “That’s absurd…”

“Perhaps. But more pertinently to you, one of their devices creates a disruption field across Koth which will prevent you from ing your ship.” “What? Are you serious?” “Yes. If you attempt to use your interface,” he pointed to her wrist, “it will set off an alarm. And I’m certain the Darkguard will be patrolling for you. Gana will know precisely who you are, especially if your ship is in orbit.” “So what am I supposed to do?” “Lay low until night. Then we can slip you out of the city unnoticed.” He paused. “If that’s what you want…” “I told you, I have to get back to my ship.” “You came to this planet for a reason though. Perhaps we can help each other, as I said.” “Maybe,” Emily said doubtfully. “As long as you aren’t religious zealots like these Exposed.” “I am of the faith,” David said, pointing to the symbol embroidered on his robes, the two circles representing the Eyes of God. “But there are many way of interpreting god’s will.” “I’m not religious.” “Nobody’s perfect.” David held out a hand to her. “We have a safehouse in the city. Come with us and we’ll talk more.” Emily looked at him. “Why should I trust you? I’m not my father – it’ll take more than a pretty face to convince me to follow a stranger into the unknown.” David smiled slightly and his eyes sparkled in the darkness. He really was very handsome. “I haven’t taken your gun, have I?” Emily glanced down at the holster in her belt. “So?” “I’m unarmed.”

“Prove it.” “It would be a bad idea for me to take off my robes in the sun. As we walk, train your weapon on my back. If I betray you, shoot me.” “What about your friends?” “They’ll go on ahead.” “What if this is a trap?” “Then you’ll die, or be captured. But the same will happen if you leave this tent without me. What do you have to lose?” Emily took out her gun and pointed at him. “Fine. Tell your friends to get moving, and you lead me to your safehouse.” “I hope you’ll learn to trust me, Captain Ajax.” “I guess it depends on where you take me, doesn’t it?” Their progress was slow through the narrow, shadowy alleys of Koth. David led her on a circuitous route, walking ahead with his hands raised the whole way. He remained upbeat throughout, apparently unconcerned by the fusion pistol pointing at his back. “Is this your first time in Parth?” he asked her conversationally as they ducked through a crumbling arch. “What?” “Have you been to the system before?” “Yes. We came through a few months back. Things weren’t so bad then.” “The Exposed’s rise to power has been nothing short of meteoric.” “Why are they called that?” “Do you know anything about our faith?” “Not really.”

“Do you want to?” “I don’t know – how long will it take us to get to your safehouse?” “A little while. We have to move carefully.” “All right then. Tell me the story.” “We believe god watches us constantly. Our existence is a kind of penance, and he observes our actions, weighing our devotion each and every moment.” “Sounds horrible,” Emily said, stepping around a rusting heap of machinery in the alley. There was starship debris almost everywhere. “It can be exhilarating. We believe we have been placed upon these worlds as a punishment.” “A punishment for what?” “For our sins in an earlier form of existence. The planets in this system were made harsh by god to test and temper us. To expose our true selves to his scrutiny.” Emily glanced up at the narrow strip of sky visible between the high walls of the buildings on either side of the alley. She couldn’t see the twin suns from here, but the heat still pulsed down from them, and she could well understand why the Parthians might feel like a vengeful deity was staring down at them. “God didn’t place you here though. A starship crashed here, and then it was settled later on. You came from another system.” “That’s what your databanks tell you.” “It’s what history tells me.” Actually it was just Reeve – Emily had never taken even a remote interest in this desolate region of space – but David didn’t need to know. “You have your story, I have mine.” “Mine is true.”

“As far as you know. How do you know god didn’t put it there yesterday?” “That’s illogical.” “God doesn’t care about logic,” David said, moving his shoulders in a kind of shrug. “We’re getting away from the point,” Emily told him, “what makes the Exposed different?” “Some of the faithful believe it is necessary to show deference to god by punishing themselves further. They believe in self-mortification. When the suns became unstable, they preached it was a judgement from god and he was unsatisfied with the devotion his chosen people were demonstrating. Since then, they’ve grown in influence.” “So they’ve been destroying all the technology in the system?” “Technology is necessary to survive here. Some have always held this betrays god’s plan for us. Now the Exposed have enshrined it in law. Once they stamp out all advanced technology in a region, they turn to lesser comforts.” “Clothes? Toys?” David nodded. “Even food. The most devoted of all starve themselves in the desert wastes, naked beneath the suns, making obeisance beneath god’s relentless stare.” “That’s barbaric…” “Yes. Do you understand why I fight against them now?” “They’ll kill everyone.” “Eventually.” “And what’s god going to think of that?” “I don’t pretend to know god’s mind, Captain Ajax. Like the Exposed, I interpret his will as I think best. But I know this: if god wanted us dead, he’d have

destroyed us a long time ago.” “I guess so.” David stopped and pointed down the alley, up a small flight of steps leading to a locked door built from hammered together scrap. “My safehouse. Will you allow me to go to the door and give them the ?” “Sure.” “Do you trust me yet?” He turned slightly to look at her. “No. I don’t trust anyone on this ridiculous planet.” “Very wise. I’ll be back in a moment, Captain Ajax.” She nodded and watched him approach the door. She didn’t understand anything that was going on here, and she wanted nothing more than to find a replacement tidal drive conduit, get off Parth Majoris and leave the system behind forever, but somehow she knew she’d never be able to do it with a clean conscience. Sighing, she holstered her pistol and waited for her strange guide to return.

***

Reeve was tracing shapes in the dirt with her finger again, but this time they had more meaning. Jilly frowned. “It’s no good though – we need a weapon to overpower the guards.” “Not necessarily. They were all swagger.” “You’re going to strangle one with your bare hands?” “It wouldn’t be the first time…” “But what then? We don’t know the layout of this building – they blindfolded

us.” “I think I enough about it.” “We have no idea what…” She trailed off as the door thunked and started to creak open. Reeve quickly rubbed out her sketches on the ground and they both stood up, backing towards the opposite wall as two guards, dressed in black as before, stepped into the room holding laser pistols. They were primitive weapons, but they’d kill them just the same. Jilly wondered how hot they must be in those dark robes. A woman entered behind then. She was short and pale, with high cheekbones which gave her a kind of cold, cruel beauty. Like the guards, she wore black robes, but even their bulk couldn’t disguise how painfully thin she was. Jilly recognised her from the plaza. “On your knees,” she barked. “No,” Jilly said but, to her surprise, Reeve tugged at her sleeve and pulled her down to the ground. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “There’s a time to fight, and this isn’t it,” she told her. “My name is Gana,” the pale woman told her, “the Anointed Priestess of the Exposed, the lowest in god’s eyes.” “The lowest?” Jilly asked. “You are offworlders,” Gana said dismissively, “heretics who do not understand true faith. Your ignorance is understandable, but not forgivable.” Reeve looked up. “What are you going to do with us?” “Tomorrow, when the Eyes of God look upon this world and the maggots that crawl on its surface again, you will die.” “Good to know,” Reeve nodded. “Until the hour comes, you will be tasked with contemplating the depth of your blasphemy.” “All right. We’ll do that.”

Gana smiled coldly. “Again you show your ignorance. Contemplation is not a thing you can do alone.” She pointed at Jilly. “That one. Bring her.” “What?” Jilly looked around. “Where are you taking me?” The guards grabbed her and hauled her roughly to her feet, wrenching at her already injured shoulder. She gritted her teeth to stop from crying out. Reeve was standing up too. “What are you going to do to her?” she demanded. “Your turn will come,” Gana said. “Take this time to prepare yourself for the coming ordeal.” “Ordeal?” Jilly gaped, her eyes going wide. “It’s going to be okay,” Reeve told her as they began to carry her out of the cell, “they’re going to keep us alive until morning. that.” Gana turned to leave. “There are worse things than death, offworlder,” she said with a smirk.

NINE

Kit leaned over Halib’s console. “There must be something you can pick up…” Halib held her hands apart, showing him the readouts. “If you have any suggestions, I’d be happy to implement then. I’ve scanned for bio-signs, for EMsignatures, even for the fabric their clothes are made from, but I’m getting nothing.” “Could it just be the atmosphere?” Kit asked, turning back to the holoscreen which still showed the low-resolution image of Koth. Boloo, a celebrated physicist back in Osiris, folded his arms and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “That would affect the scanner’s resolution, but you should still be able to pick up something.” “So what could be causing it?” Boloo crossed to Halib’s terminal and tapped a few of the holokeys, making adjustments to the sensor array mounted on The Sunskimmer’s ventral hull. “I’ve switched it to ive mode. Give it an hour and then we’ll look at the data. If we scan the area around the city, we’ll be able to see if there’s anything that might be interfering with the sensors.” “Interfering with them?” Kit asked. “You mean some sort of disruption field?” “It’s possible,” Boloo shrugged. “These guys are supposed to hate any kind of advanced technology,” Halib said, “and disruption fields are expensive pieces of kit. I don’t even think there are more than a handful in Osiris. Where would they get one?” “They could’ve built it,” Boloo suggested. Kit raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

“A few things. You can set up a crude scattering field with something as simple as a plasma accelerator, assuming you adjust the coils properly. Of course, doing that would overclock the fuel shunt and trigger a meltdown within hours unless you had access to a lot of coolant technology…” “This sounds a pretty unlikely stunt,” Halib said flatly. “True,” Boloo itted, “but there are other ways. Some parts of a tidal drive might be retro-fitted to throw out gravitic bursts that would deflect most scans. Tarq knows more about it, I’m sure.” “You think they have a tidal drive down there?” Kit asked, flopping down into the captain’s chair. It still felt wrong to be sitting in it. “Probably not a whole one – it’d be half the size of the city. But a power cell or a conduit? You never know.” “Where would they get that from?” “Metallurgical scans showed a lot of interesting alloys down there,” Halib said. “Can we scan for bits of tidal drive?” Boloo shook his head. “No. But the ive scan will give me more information.” “An hour,” Kit said, drumming his hands on the arms of the chair. “What kind of trouble could they get into in another hour?”

***

Jilly was dragged through a doorway and out into a wide courtyard which appeared to be in the centre of the compound. High walls made of the same baked mud of which most of Koth was constructed overlooked a completely empty patch of ground, maybe two-hundred metres to a side. The only thing in the courtyard was a dark metal cylinder, like a can, standing in the middle. The light was so bright after the dark confines of the cell and the whole scene so bare of any other adornment Jilly found it hard to judge how large it was, or how far away. It was the only thing to see so, inevitably, her eyes lingered on it, wondering why she’d been brought here. The guards threw her roughly to the ground and she started to pick herself up, only to be forced back to the ground by a boot in the small of her back. She stayed low, ing Reeve’s advice from earlier. “You’ve been on our world less than a day,” Gana, this priestess woman, began, “but even an ignorant offworlder cannot have failed to notice the Eyes of God.” She pointed and Jilly rolled her eyes upwards. The two blue suns which almost filled the sky were painfully bright, and she glanced away immediately, wincing as her eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” Gana continued, “they hurt, don’t they?” “They’re bright,” Jilly croaked. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the cell, but they’d been given no food or water, and out here in the blistering heat she realised just how thirsty she was. “Offworlders have no respect,” Gana sneered. “God looks into your soul, and all you concern yourself with is how bright his gaze is. Here, let me show you what it is to meet infinity’s stare.” She grabbed at Jilly and the guard holding her down let her up. Gana, despite her spindly frame, was remarkably strong and she hauled Jilly up to her knees and grabbed her around the jaw. She tried to fight free, but heat, thirst and exhaustion robbed her of the strength to resist and Gana angled her face upwards. “See?” Jilly screwed her eyes shut. She could almost feel her freckled skin burning in

the ultraviolet light thrown out by the fearsome stars. She shook her head desperately. “Look! Look at them!” She felt strong fingers prising her eyes open and, as she let out a desperate yell, she was forced to stare into the suns. Gana held her there for no more than fifteen seconds, staring helplessly at them, then finally let her go with a throaty laugh. She collapsed back onto the parched ground, eyes screwed shut again. Her vision was clouded with angry purple dots. “It’s painful, isn’t it?” Gana asked. Her tone was amused, taunting her. “What are you trying to prove with this?” “I’m trying to show you god. You should be grateful.” “Grateful for you nearly blinding me?” “You know nothing, heretic,” Gana said. Her voice changed from mocking to cold anger. She lifted Jilly’s head again and this time made her look into her own eyes. Jilly winced at her clouded pupils, at the inflamed blood vessels which told this unhinged woman’s story. “I am grateful. Grateful that god has punished me for my insolence by damaging my vision. Soon, he will take my sight entirely, and his holy gaze will be lost to me forever. But I shall still be exposed to his scrutiny. He will watch me, and I will have no defence against his awesome power. I pray that day comes soon.” “You’re insane…” Jilly whispered. Gana laughed and threw her back to the floor. “You will learn, offworlder. You will learn before your end, tomorrow. Look at the Eyes of God – see how they focus and shift over time? Only at three times on each day does the full power manifest. At dawn, at dusk and now, at noon. Both suns are high in the sky, beating down upon us for one long, terrible hour. This is a holy time.” “What’s your point?” Jilly asked from the ground. “Look at my Darkguard. These are holy men. They have hidden themselves from god’s gaze, putting their own souls in peril. They are martyrs.” “I don’t care…”

“You will. See how they swelter beneath their black robes? Each moment in the suns is a torment for them. They stand out here three times each day, when the Eyes of God are at their most fierce. In this way, they become closer to god, and to salvation. Before you die, you will experience a fraction of their agony.” Jilly looked around. She could see them now, filing out from doors on each side of the square courtyard, these Darkguard, lining up a few metres from the wall, standing stock still as the suns throbbed down in the pale sky. “You’re going to make me stand out here?” “Nothing so simple. Bring her.” The guards grabbed her by the arms again and lifted her up. They all made their way to the cylinder she’d observed in the centre of the yard and now she saw it was an old metal barrel, an ore drum, perhaps salvaged from the ancient wreck. It was around a metre tall, and less than half that in diameter. The lid was secured by a crude padlock. She watched as Gana unlocked it and pulled off the lid, then swallowed as she saw how hot the metal was – how the priestess’s pale flesh smoked as she touched it, although she didn’t even wince. How long had the barrel been sitting out there in the suns? There were no shadows – both stars were directly overhead. Anything put in that barrel would cook. “One hour,” Gana said, “to contemplate god and your fate. Tomorrow, you will suffer much worse than this.” Jilly struggled as the guards lifted her up and placed her in the tiny cylinder, but she was too weak to prevent them following their monstrous orders. It was such a tight fit inside she had to crouch down and bury her head on her knees. The sides were too hot to touch. She only heard the lid being placed back on and secured in place. She put her hands over her head, trying to ignore the unbearable, stifling heat, and wept softly in the darkness.

***

Emily watched the thin strips of goat flesh sizzling on the upturned fragment of bulkhead suspended on a jury-rigged framework over a bowl of smouldering coals. It was surprisingly cool in this room – the mud everything here was made

of was obviously a fine insulator – and the hot food seemed quite welcoming just then. The chef, a toothless old woman, turned the meat over to cook the other side. The smell was delicious, but at the same time made her stomach turn slightly. She’d only eaten real flesh a handful of times, and it made her faintly nauseous, though it obviously appealed to some primal part of her appetite. “Forgive the improvised nature of this,” David said with another of his enigmatic smiles. “There’s no metal in this region to speak of, and the smelting plants elsewhere were destroyed by the Exposed. Like our ancestors, we use what we can find.” “It’s not that,” Emily said. David didn’t press her any further though as he peeled off the strips of roasted meat and put them in a bowl for her with some sort of thick pale brown paste scooped from another pot. She smeared a little on the goat as she saw the others doing and then made a surprised noise when she bit into it. “Ow! That’s sharp!” “The taste is a little tart,” David said. “It’s made from citrus fruits growing near the shores of the ocean.” “It’s good,” Emily told him. The low, dim room was home to around a dozen other people. David had briefly introduced them, but she hadn’t been able to any of their names. Another room led off from this one, kept separate with a hanging curtain of patterned fabric. There were no windows, just light wells high in the walls. There were rugs and a few battered cushions around the room, but other than the makeshift stove, no furniture at all. The aromatic smoke drifted out through a grill in the ceiling. “These are your people?” Emily asked David. “My friends.” “Your soldiers?” He tilted his head. “In a manner of speaking.” Emily nodded to the curtained-off room. “I saw in there a moment okay. You have weapons.” “We have some supplies of munitions, yes. At first, we tried to protest against the new regime using non-violent means.”

“Yeah, I can guess how that went…” “I have lost many good friends.” Emily swallowed her mouthful of goat, supressing the slight tremor in her stomach. “I’m sorry.” She looked around. All of David’s companions wore the same non-descript white robes, though they all had their hoods pulled back now. They were men and women, young and old, seemingly with nothing in common at all, except their faith and, she assumed, a loathing for the Exposed. But David seemed separate from them, different somehow. He was clearly their leader. The way they’d greeted him when he’d entered with her, the way she had been welcomed without questions, just the way they looked at him, it all told the same story. They’d follow this man wherever he led. She wondered who he was. “How did you come to fight against these fanatics, David?” she asked him. “It’s obvious they took a lot from you. Did you used to rule here?” “Rule?” He smiled broadly at the remark and his bright blue eyes sparkled in the darkness. “No, Captain Ajax. I was a simple moisture farmer, from the other side of the planet. But the Exposed took what little I had from me.” His smile faded and his gaze was distant for a second. “Your livelihood?” She knew it was more. “My family.” “They killed your parents?” “My wife. My sons.” “Oh.” Emily found it hard to judge people’s ages, being surrounded by friends who all used rejuvenation treatments as a matter of course. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I can see why you want to destroy them.” “I don’t want to destroy them. All I want is peace.” “But the Exposed don’t feel the same way…” He shook his head sadly. “No.” Emily put her bowl down. “Why don’t you leave?”

“Parth Majoris is my home, Captain Ajax.” “The galaxy’s a big place, and you know as well as I do this whole system is doomed eventually.” “All systems are doomed eventually. This is my home,” he repeated, his piercing gaze firm and level, “and I plan to live to see it freed.” “I’d like to help you, somehow,” she said. “This isn’t your fight.” “I know,” she nodded, “but even so. You said you were disrupting that demonstration? What did you have planned?” “A token gesture only,” David said. “It’s too early to strike openly.” “A bomb?” she guessed. “Yes.” He looked uncomfortable. She wondered what kind of man would be so reluctant to use violence even after losing his family to these monsters. “Did you plan to kill anyone? What about that woman, Gana?” “It…was a possibility…” “But you’d rather not, right?” “If it can be avoided…” Emily considered. “This disruption field, is the generator in their compound?” “We don’t know,” a woman answered from near the back of the room, “it deflects all scanning attempts.” “Can you tell how strong it is? It should be more intense near the source.” “We thought of that,” David said. “A month or so ago, when we first came to Koth, we tried to scan it. It was strongest near to Gana herself. We thought she may be carrying the generator.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know of a field generator in the galaxy, improvised or otherwise, which someone could hide in a robe. These things are usually the size of buildings – that’s why they only fit them on starships and space stations.” She ran a hand along her jaw. “Where was Gana at the time?” “She was giving a speech in the plaza, like today,” the woman answered. Emily snapped her fingers. “The tidal drive conduit! I’m pretty sure you could reconfigure it to throw out gravitational waves which might function like a disruption field.” “You seem to know a lot about starship engineering,” David said, sounding impressed. “I grew up on them,” Emily said dismissively, “my Uncle Patrick rebuilt The Sunskimmer’s tidal drive from scratch.” She hadn’t thought about Patrick, the ship’s former chief engineer, in a long time. And she suddenly ed the last message from her father. He said Patrick’s home planet had been scoured down to the bedrock by Dracon’s ships. He was probably dead now. It made her angry enough to want to hunt the Lord iral across space and make him pay – how would she feel if she’d lost her husband or her children? Why was David so calm? “Do you think if we destroy the conduit, it will bring down the field?” the woman asked, creeping forward. Emily seemed to her name was Hannah. “Maybe…” “We could communicate with our other battalions in the desert,” she told David, “coordinate a real assault.” “That’s true.” “And,” Emily said, “I could my ship. Its weapon batteries are more powerful than anything you have on this planet. I promise you.” “This isn’t your fight, Captain Ajax,” David said again. “No, but I want to help you win it.”

“Why? Are you so moved by our plight?” “Yes…but it’s not just that…” “Then what?” He looked at her searchingly and she swallowed. She hadn’t just suggested he leave this world because it was the most practical solution to his problems. Somehow, she had a feeling he’d be a useful man to have aboard The Sunskimmer. Her future plans were vague, but she knew a war could be coming. If it came to it, she needed leaders, men and women she could trust to command her allies in battle, who would inspire troops and lead rebellions. David fit the description. And a few others. “My friends,” she said. “I need to free them.” “Of course,” David said. It was true. She’d almost forgotten about Jilly and Reeve. She hoped they were okay. “Are the Exposed likely to hurt them?” “They are…not kind people,” David said evasively. “They will probably be executed soon, if they’ve been charged with heresy.” “Then we have to destroy that conduit as soon as possible. Tonight, if we can.” Only after she said it did she finding a working tidal drive conduit was the whole reason she’d come to this cursed planet in the first place.

***

Reeve paced restlessly around the small cell. By her calculations, Jilly had been gone for over an hour. It was hard to gauge time in here though, with only the narrow, barred window itting a thin beam of light. She’d tried clambering up to the bars, but the corroded metal was hot to the touch. The suns were truly horrendous. She’d been on a few worlds with a single star and learned to get a feel for the time of day by its position in the sky, but here in such an unstable binary system, it was almost impossible to reckon the age of time. Still, an

hour felt about right. As she returned to squatting on her haunches, tracing idle patterns in the dust for what felt like the millionth time, the door’s lock clicked and it slowly creaked open. A limp shape fell through the opening and collapsed onto the floor. It was Jilly. Reeve rushed over and knelt beside her as Gana and two of her guards walked in. She cradled the woman’s head on her lap. She looked terrible and she performed a quick check. “She’s dehydrated,” Reeve said accusingly, “what did you do to her?” “Helped to cleanse her soul,” Gana answered shortly. “How?” Jilly’s skin didn’t look burned, so at least they hadn’t just left her out in this heat. She had a horrible feeling this might be what was in store for them tomorrow though, judging by what little she’d picked up about these zealots’ merciless creed. “You will find out at dusk.” “She needs water,” Reeve said, “she’s almost dead.” “She will not die until tomorrow.” “Then you’d better give her something to drink so she survives the night!” “Insolent whore,” one of the guards grunted. He aimed a kick at her but, tired and thirsty though she was, Reeve caught his boot and tripped him to the ground. She leaped to her feet but the other guard jumped on her from behind, wrapping thick arms around her. She struggled in his grip and finally managed to throw her head back. She heard a satisfying crunch from beneath his hood and, as he stumbled away, spun around, took hold of his head and with one short, sharp movement of her shoulders, snapped his neck in two. He slumped lifelessly to the floor. Feeling only a moment’s satisfaction, she turned to confront the other guard, only to find him on his feet, aiming a laser pistol at her. He pulled the trigger without so much as a word of warning, and she only just managed to throw herself clear. Nonetheless, the white-hot beam struck her a glancing blow to the side and she tumbled sideways, holding the bleeding wound it left behind. “He died serving god,” Gana said, looking down at the dead guard disionately.

“You heartless fucking bitch,” Reeve spat, using the wall to pull herself up into a sitting position. “Why don’t you just kill us and get it over with?” “You must die in the sight of god,” Gana smiled. “I’ve been all over the Quadrants,” Reeve told her, still holding her wounded side and speaking between gritted teeth, “and I’ve never seen any gods. What makes your shithole of a planet so special, huh? Why does he care what happens here?” “You will repent your blasphemy before the end, offworlder.” She nodded down at the corpse. “Bring that,” she ordered the other guard. When they’d left, closing the door behind them with a definitive thud, Reeve took a moment to examine her injuries. It wasn’t a bad wound – she’d suffered much worse in the past – but it hurt and unless she got some medical treatment, it would become infected, especially in this heat. Since she was probably going to die tomorrow anyway it hardly made any difference. She slowly dragged herself over to Jilly, who was now lying on her back with her eyes closed. Her clothes were soaked with sweat and her red hair was plastered to her scalp. She looked desperately ill. “Jilly? Can you hear me?” She made a wheezing noise and Reeve realised how dry her throat must be. There was nothing to drink here though. “Look, it’s going to be okay. Emily’s going to get us out of here.” “How?” Jilly asked. Her voice was a dry, cracked whisper. She opened her eyes and looked up at Reeve. “I don’t know”, Reeve itted, “but she will. She’s a resourceful woman.” Jilly nodded silently, moving her head very slowly. “Why are they doing this?” “Because they’re deluded. They think god cares about them. Did you ever notice how faiths like this always start in deserts? People with nothing to look at but the endless horizon and the sun somehow come up with a vengeful, angry, singular god. Weird, isn’t it? In a place with so little, they invent a god who takes even this from them. Wherever you go, humans are basically the same. That’s been my observation anyway.”

“You’re bleeding,” Jilly said. “I know. And I’m babbling. But if I don’t, I’m going to out.” “I think it’s okay to out.” “I might die if I do.” Jilly thought about this. “Will I die if I out?” “Probably not.” “Okay then.” She closed her eyes. Reeve fell silent and slumped down on the floor beside her. “Keep talking,” Jilly said after a moment. Reeve looked down at her. “What shall I talk about?” “Tell me about being an asteroid miner.” “Ah…there might be a problem with that, as it happens…” “Tell me anything then.” “Okay. Let me tell you about Kyle Blackheart.” “I know the story.” “Not this side of it you don’t…”

***

Night fell. It was a complicated affair in this system, with its unstable suns orbiting around one another, but when they both dipped beyond the horizon, Emily was shocked by how cold it was. Her breath misted in the air as David led her back through Koth. She wore one of the same robes as the others and held

her fusion pistol close beneath it. The others were armed with ancient ballistic weapons, the only kind they could obtain on this benighted world. Some of their number also carried explosives in bags slung across their shoulders, including Hannah, the fierce woman from the safehouse. “We have to be careful,” she explained as they crept down an alley. “The Darkguard enforce a strict curfew.” “I take it they won’t just give us a slap on the wrist if they catch us?” “No,” Hannah said. The woman was oddly humourless, which was understandable in the circumstances. She wondered who she’d lost. There were only five of them in the group, including her, and David stopped by a ladder up to a rooftop and beckoned them all to go ahead of him. Once they were on top of the flat-roofed building, he hauled the ladder up behind them and resumed his place at the head of the group. Emily moved forward so she was just behind him. “You seem to know your way through this city.” “I’ve been here for a while now.” “Why haven’t they discovered you? With all these curfews in place and these Darkguards everywhere, I’m surprised they don’t know about your safehouse.” “We’re careful,” David said. Emily looked over her shoulder. The team they’d chosen were the youngest in David’s little group, but they didn’t look particularly careful. For all their weapons stores and ambition, they weren’t soldiers. They reminded her of The Sunskimmer’s crew when she’d first brought them aboard – a gaggle of spoiled Osirian scions, thinking they were going to a party. She’d weeded out those she didn’t think could handle their duties, the ones who weren’t interested in an adventure, but they’d still been little more than enthusiastic amateurs, not yet tempered by battle. She suddenly had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. “David, have you ever done any fighting before?” He paused as they reached the edge of the block and peered down into the street below. “What do you mean by ‘fighting’?” “You said you’d been trying non-violent means before this. Have you ever actually fought the Exposed?”

“Not as such.” “Do they even know you exist?” “I’m…known to them.” “What does that mean?” David looked uncomfortable, although his hooded features were hard to pick out in the darkness. “David?” she pressed. “The situation is…complex. For a time, I thought the Exposed could be negotiated with.” “What does that mean?” “I told you, we sought a peaceful solution.” Realisation dawned. “You were one of them, weren’t you?” “Not exactly.” “But you went along with their teachings, right? And your wife and sons?” “Many were seduced by the new regime. You said yourself our system is doomed. The Exposed seemed to offer a solution.” “Killing yourselves before your god does it for you?” “Desperate men turn to desperate faiths, Captain Ajax.” “And their wives and children come with them, I suppose. When did they die?” David swallowed. He still hadn’t met her eyes. “Three months ago.” “Because of you?” He nodded very slightly. “Because of me,” he said hoarsely.

“So, is this about freedom for your people or revenge?” “It’s about redemption.” The rest of the group were keeping their distance, but she could feel their impatience as they waited for their leader’s signal. “Were you planning to die today David?” she asked him in a low voice. “If you’d fired that fusion pistol at me earlier, it would have detonated the explosives I was wearing and killed you too. Does that answer your question?” “This is a sick world, David.” “Then help me make it well again Emily.” He pointed across the street. “The plaza is that way.”

***

Reeve opened her eyes to see Gana and two more guards standing over her. “Sorry,” she said weakly, “I must have dozed off.” “Lucky for you that you did,” Gana said curtly as she walked around the prone forms of her and Jilly, lying in the middle of the cell. “You missed your chance to stand before God, like your friend did.” “I think I met him anyway.” She pulled her hand away from her side and winced at the sticky blood that coated her palm. She peered up at the cell’s window and saw it was dark outside. “How long until morning?” “Hours.” “That’s good. Time to get my affairs in order.” Gana stood over her. Framed in the shadows, she was a thin, ghoulish figure. “Do you always show so little respect for your own death?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never faced your own death,” Reeve said with a smirk that she hoped was every bit as ghastly as this woman. “I face death every day. My eyes bear the scars of god’s infinite gaze.” “Scars. Right.” Reeve tilted her head. “I know about those. And I know about death. I was just telling Jilly all about it. Not sure how much she heard, or how much I even said, to be honest. After a while, I think I started hallucinating and I suppose I was back there again, living it a second time. That’s why I’m not scared of you now. Because I’ve known true fear. Fear that goes beyond your god, Gana.” “Is that so?” “My father gave me these scars. What did your father do, priestess?” “My father was a farmer.” She sounded a little unsure. She wasn’t used to being asked questions like this, but it didn’t occur to her to lie, to give Reeve any kind of advantage by hiding things from her. She just had to have the moral high ground. “I see. Mine was a warlord. An emperor. My father set the galaxy on fire and, when he wasn’t doing that, he was setting me on fire. He did this to me, gave me these scars. He held me against a leaking plasma chamber until I screamed for him to stop. He was a worse monster than you could ever be. However you tortured Jilly, it pales in comparison to what he could dream up. When his men failed him, he killed their families and made them wear their skins around their shoulders, sewn together like a cloak. He drowned his enemies in molten iron and stabbed out the eyes of every slave he owned. He cared for nothing, not even gods. His blood runs through my veins, little woman, and you have no idea what it would take to teach me fear again. So whatever hell you’ve devised for us tomorrow, don’t expect Reeve Blackheart to meet it with anything but a smile.” Gana had shrunk back against the wall and seemed about to say something in reply, when another guard shouldered his way into the cell. “Anointed,” he said breathlessly. “Someone is breaking the curfew.” “So?” she snapped. “Arrest them!” “It’s at the plaza, Anointed. We believe it may be the renegades.”

Gana let out an almost animalistic screech. “David! I’ll go myself!” She looked down at Reeve. “Until tomorrow, offworlder.” “I look forward to it,” Reeve said, giving her another smile. Unable to reply, Gana swept out of the cell, followed by her guards.

***

Emily and David ghosted across the plaza. The city was completely silent thanks to the curfew, but her heart was still in her mouth. Parth Majoris had no moon so the darkness was all-encoming; she could only just make out the shape of David dashing in front of her. They reached the base of the tidal drive conduit, buried deep in the parched ground. Emily looked up at its imposing bulk. The Sunskimmer had twenty-five of these built into its engine, all pumping millions of gallons of super-heated plasma back and forth. It was hard to imagine this rusted hunk of metal performing that function, but she was sure Tarq could make it work. Of course, that wasn’t to be now. If she didn’t destroy this, she’d need to have David smuggle her out of the city, and by then Jilly and Reeve might be dead anyway. “Plant the explosives near the base,” David whispered, pointing. Emily knelt down and took the primitive bomb from her bag. She’d used ion charges before, but these were quite different. She wasn’t sure what the yield would be and she hesitated as she set the timer. “Are you sure these are going to do the job?” “Quite sure.” He walked to the next position in a crouch. Emily stepped away and looked around the plaza. The low buildings were dark and revealed nothing. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. She straightened and then frowned into the shadows. Was someone moving there? “David…”

He was already on his way across the plaza, breaking into a run. Something caught her eye, a flash of light and the sound came a second later, the ‘krik’ of laser fire. She was already moving, barrelling into David and knocking him to the ground as the laser blast tore the air apart above their heads. The impact glanced off the conduit, but didn’t trigger the explosives, thankfully. “I think we have a problem,” she told him. David nodded and they scrambled for cover. The dais Gana had given her speech from was still there and they ducked behind a piece of sheet metal near its base. The sound of ballistic guns firing came from the other side of the plaza and Emily winced at the unfamiliar deafening sound. She pulled out her fusion pistol. “How long do we have?” “A few minutes,” David said. He seemed unconcerned. “You may have a deathwish,” she said, “but I don’t. I’d quite like to be clear of the blast radius.” “We’ll have to fight our way out. There are Darkguard everywhere.” He pointed with his primitive pistol at the shadowy shapes moving in on them. More laser fire filled the air and screams echoed through the night. She thought she heard Hannah’s voice. Emily clenched her teeth and took a shot with her own weapon. The sound of air rapidly compressing and expanding made a ‘whoomph’ and three Darkguards went down in a flash of light. Their robes were smouldering, visible as bright orange embers in the darkness. “Impressive.” “Just technology. It’s only as good as the person using it.” She looked over their temporary barricade. “I’m going to make a run for it.” “Is that a good idea?” “No, but what choice do I have? We’re going to be blown to pieces any second.” “You’ll be gunned down as soon as you break cover.” “Well, those are my choices, aren’t they?”

“Maybe not…” “What do you have in mind?” “I’m going to deactivate the explosives.” “Why?” “So you can escape.” “And what happens to you? What happens to Parth?” “I’m only one man. I planned to die today anyway.” “You don’t have to do that. We can get away and you can leave this hellhole with me. my crew.” He stared at her. “ your crew? But this is my home…” “What’s keeping you here? Your family are dead.” “I can’t leave my people.” “Blowing yourself up isn’t leaving them?” “That’s different. If I die, I become a symbol, I…” “Oh shut up. Do you want to be a leader or don’t you?” “I want…I want to save you.” Emily glanced down at the closest bomb. They were running out of options. “Deactivate them,” she said. “We’ll give ourselves up and come up with a new plan.” “Just like that?” “It always worked for my dad.” “Help me then.” They worked quickly, still ducking laser fire, undoing all their stealthy work from a few moments ago. Then David called out to the Darkguards

and walked out into the plaza with his hands in the air. Emily followed behind. She glanced at the place where the others had been hiding and saw at least two bundled shapes on the ground. As they moved towards the enemy, the laser bolts ceased and the ranks of Darkguards parted to reveal the pale, thin shape of Gana. She walked towards David with a smirk on her face and then caught sight of Emily. “Who are you?” “I’m Captain Ajax.” There was no hint of recognition on her face. “Never mind,” Emily sighed. “She’s nobody. Just an offworlder who got involved,” David said. “That weapon she carries makes her a heretic.” “You don’t want her, Gana. You want me.” “God wants all sinners in his gaze.” “She doesn’t believe in god.” “So?” Emily was growing tired. “I’m not here to discuss theology,” she said. “You’re holding two of my friends captive. I want them back.” “They are standing trial for their blasphemy.” “And I have a ship in orbit that can level this city to the ground with one volley.” “You can’t communicate with your ship. God watches this city.” Emily looked up at the night sky. The stars were finally visible. “Not right now he doesn’t.” She turned and levelled her pistol at the tidal drive conduit, just a tall, dark shape in the black, and fired. The blast barrelled through the air and hit the base of the conduit. It ignited the bombs laid there and the explosion ripped through the darkness, lighting up the entire plaza in a blaze of orange fury. The conduit was torn to shreds and it slowly began to keel over, then crashed to the ground. There was a shimmer of light and an odd sense of pressure being lifted, then Emily’s wrist interface chimed.

“Emily? Emily?” It was Kit’s voice. Keeping her eyes on Gana, Emily raised her wrist to her mouth. “Go ahead, Kit.” “Is everything okay down there?” “Not really. Can the sensors pick up a large complex of any kind?” “Uh…yeah, I think we have it.” “Train the main ion cannon battery on it, would you?” “If you destroy my compound, your friends die too,” Gana spat. “I know. But I just blew up our only way of getting out of this system, so how secure do you really feel trying to bargain with me?” There was a long moment of silence, and then Gana looked around at her Darkguards and gestured for them to lower their weapons.

***

“There’s still a lot of work to do,” David said. They were outside the city, near the rock spires where the shuttle had set down. David’s hood was down, despite the heat of the Eyes of God. “Gana was just one of many. Elsewhere on this planet, and on the other worlds, others like her are preaching the same hate.” “At least now you know you can beat them.” He nodded. “Thanks to you.” “I was just trying to free my friends.” It wasn’t quite true, and they both knew that, but she said it anyway. “Are you sure you want to stay here?” “This is where I belong.”

“I know. But a man like you could do a lot of good in the galaxy. I need people of conviction. People I can rely on. You were willing to sacrifice everything to win your fight.” “So were you, even though it wasn’t yours. You’re a rare woman, Emily Ajax.” “Not that rare.” She glanced into the shuttle. Reeve and Jilly were both plugged into the medical systems. “I wish there was a way I could have saved that conduit. We could be stuck here for a while.” “I heard a rumour there was an abandoned shipyard in orbit of Parth Minoris. It might take you a few weeks to get there, but there could be something you can use.” “As long as we can resupply.” “I think I can arrange something.” He gave her that enigmatic smile again. “It’s the least you can do.” She put one foot in the shuttle. “If you ever bring this system to heel, find me on the nodes. I need every ally I can get.” “Will you come back for me?” “I think I can arrange something.” She met his eyes and, for a second, she considered doing something foolish. But no. She wasn’t her father. She just nodded and stepped into the shuttle, closing the door behind her.

TEN

A cold, dead star flickered almost imperceptibly in the infinite void of space, barely an ember in the darkness, but still with enough mass to hold together uncountable distant objects in a gravitational embrace. A million-year dance, played out so far from civilisation that only a handful of humans had ever bothered to observe its steps. Frozen asteroids tumbled lazily through the night, airless moons spiralled out further and further into the depths of space as the aeons ed, comets on millennia-long sojourns of their own and, closer by, one more little thing. A ship, barely visible against the blackness of space. Its angular surfaces reflected only the very faintest glimmer of light from the nigh-inert sun. No sensor could have detected its power signature for, out there in the cold, it had been expending only the minimum energy required for several centuries. Enough only to power two systems: a basic sensor array built into its barbed prow, and the hibernation systems that kept its deadly cargo alive in its cavernous interior chambers. The sensors had been silently observing the surrounding space for hundreds of years. Waiting and watching, scanning endlessly on all frequencies. Sending out probing beams on the invisible neutrino winds that made interstellar communication possible, reading them as they came back, feeding them into cogitation banks that processed and examined the signals, searching for one telltale piece of data. The ship had been waiting for so long. It searched for light years around its location as it described its agonisingly slow orbit here in the galaxy’s most desolate regions. It waited patiently with the unflinching boredom of a machine intelligence, ively scanning each cubic parsec of space in all directions. It was a sentinel, a watcher in the night, blankly observing, never judging, never knowing, just seeing. Until the moment finally came. That spark of data – to the sensor’s computer system just a number, a particular string of binary digits – but it was one it had been programmed to react to. As it dropped into its databanks it seemed to the computer’s empty digital brain like the sounding of a great bell, tolling across the cosmos. There would be no confirmation. The assumption had always been that the target would be ing

in some distant system, gone before a second signal had the opportunity to travel and bounce back to the ship. They must act fast, mobilising on even this pale gleam of a sensor ghost. As soon as the sensor checked the data against its hardwired memory and confirmed the code it powered down, its job done after centuries of staring blindly into the darkness. And, as it did, the rest of the ship slowly came to life. The power-up sequence took hours to complete, for everything must be prepared before the final sequence. The main computer blinked into life first, took stock of its situation, confirmed the record stored in the sensor’s databank and began to restore atmosphere, followed by active magnetic shielding, weapons systems and then engines, both ion and tidal. When the ship was completely online and all environmental settings had been checked and rechecked a dozen times, only then was the final activation sequence triggered. Deep in the armour-plated aft of the sleek black vessel, the cryogenic pods began their revivification protocols. It took many more hours for these processes to be complete, for the human body is a more complicated machine than even a mighty starship that cleaves through the void. The computers slaved to each incubation pod were an order of magnitude more complex than any others on board and each exclusively monitored the occupant of their own chamber. As the thawing procedure began, vital signs were checked, nutrients and chemical enhancers fed directly into the subjects’ bloodstreams, oxygen filtered gently at first and then with more force into their frozen lungs. Temperature must be controlled with utmost care to avoid system shock and neurological scans completed every microsecond to protect against synaptic and engrammatic entropy. Inevitably, there would be some losses. Despite rigorous testing, not all humans could survive cryogenic freezing and this ship had been despatched in a time of war and upheaval. The crew knew the danger. They had welcomed it. One who had survived opened his eyes very slowly. He felt as if he was emerging from a deep, restful sleep. If he’d dreamed, he had no memory of it, but he had a sensation that a great span of time had ed, and that the galaxy had gone on its way without him for many, many years. That didn’t concern him. His pod slid open and he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. His muscles felt strange. Not unused, for the freezing process prevented any physical atrophy, but unfamiliar, as if he had been reborn in a new body. He flexed his shoulders experimentally. Ritual brands and tattoos flexed across his taut musculature and he felt some memory of his former power returning. The rest of his crew were awakening as unsteadily as him. “Computer,” he said in a thick,

groggy voice. “Captain Vahl,” the hollow voice of the computer greeted him as a holographic interface moved down from the ceiling to rest in front of him, just close enough for his glassy stare to focus on. “Report.” “We have located The Sunskimmer, sir. Everything is prepared.” Vahl clenched his fist in triumph. “Set a course and arm all weapons.”

***

In her mind, Jilly was back on Parth Majoris, in the capital city of Koth – a city in name only, for it was barely bigger than a spaceport on one of the core worlds of the Free Planets, and built from wreckage and mud. The twin blue suns that the superstitious populace called the Eyes of God, stared down unblinkingly on her. In this version of events, they were even larger than they were in reality, seeming to take up the whole sky and causing the ground to visibly smoke. When this had really happened she’d been carried, but now she walked alone, unaided, to that tiny cylinder in the middle of a square, empty courtyard. It was an old ore can, most likely. They put her inside it, in the baking heat, to cook alive for over an hour. She couldn’t touch the sides they were so hot. Her body ached from the effort of squatting in the darkness, stopping herself from losing her balance and having to brush her skin against the scalding metal interior. They locked the lid on and left her there. She had no voice to scream at them in the dream. In real life she’d wailed and sobbed until her throat went hoarse. Should she be ashamed of that? Ashamed she’d begged to be let free, ashamed she’d told them she’d tell them anything they wanted if they’d only let her out of this? It was only an hour. Would Emily have cried out? Would Reeve? She found it hard to imagine that they would. But they hadn’t been there. They didn’t know. She was still there, in her head, curled up in that terrible heat, sweat dripping down her body, making her desperate to claw at herself, to itch under her arms and between her legs, to rub her aching muscles, but there was no room and trying to find a way to bend to make it possible meant touching the barrel, and a more direct kind of pain. It was only an hour, but the dreams lasted longer than that and every second stretched out infinitely. She lived and died in the barrels in her mind, crying pitifully as her body withered, sometimes roasted into a charred ruin. Lidless eyes staring sightlessly at the red-glowing metal walls of her tiny prison. Other times boiled in her own sweat, turning bloated and colourless, swelling up inside the barrel until she filled its narrow confines, packed in like synthmeat. She woke up screaming and tumbled from her bunk, falling to the floor in a wet,

sobbing heap of misery and fear. Her cabin was relatively spacious, but it seemed confining now, a little alcove in a great metal ship with nothing but the black of space ing by outside. A barrel. Nothing more than another kind of barrel. She put her head in her hands and wept uncontrollably, her breath coming in great, raking heaves that hurt her chest. Most of the physical damage from her ordeal was repaired. She’d been dehydrated and had some minor burns and muscle damage. It was nothing. Only an hour. Just an hour in there. It shouldn’t be a big deal. If it had happened to one of the others, it wouldn’t be, and she was determined to live up to their ideals. She was the Executive Officer of The Sunskimmer, the most famous ship in the galaxy. Emily relied on her. The whole crew did. The interface on the wall chimed. She realised after a few seconds that it had been doing that for a while and it was what had woken her up. She got up to her knees and activated it, having the foresight to disable the visual feed on the holoscreen. “Y…yes…go ahead.” “Jilly?” Emily’s voice asked. “I’m here, Captain.” “Is everything okay?” “Fine.” “Why can’t I see you?” “You woke me up I’m…I’m not looking my best.” She could imagine Emily’s face. Confusion mixed with concern. But she wouldn’t understand. It was easier this way. It was her job to be strong for the rest of the crew. “Okay,” Emily said. “I need you in the briefing room.” “Why? What’s going on?” “I just got an encoded message from my father. I need all the senior staff present.” “I’ll…I’ll be there in a minute, Captain.”

“Good.” The feed terminated and Jilly slumped back down to the floor. She’d taken to sleeping naked with the temperature in her cabin turned so low it almost made her breath frost. She’d have it lower, but that would trigger an alert in the environmental controls and Emily would find out. She was too hot all the time. She’d asked Doctor Lorr to check her again, to make sure there wasn’t some sort of nerve damage causing her to experience these temperature fluctuations. He said it was more likely to be psychosomatic. He wasn’t a psychiatrist though, and he couldn’t offer her any counselling. “You should probably talk to the captain,” he’d told her. “The treatment you suffered is going to affect you psychologically. You were tortured. I can give you a mood stabilising chemical, but you need proper care at a medical facility.” “We’re on the run, doctor,” she’d said shortly. “Outlaws in the back end of the Quadrant. There are no medical facilities.” She took the chemical injection anyway, but all it had done was made it easier to sleep, which just brought on the dreams every night. She found it difficult to get dressed. Her clothes felt tight and itchy. She flinched at the way they brushed against her skin and nearly collapsed to the floor again. But no. She wouldn’t give in to this. Parth was some backwater system, a place ruled by primitive savages who worshipped their suns. She was an Osirian noble, a freedom fighter against a militaristic regime threatening to unite the Quadrants under the iron fist of a man she’d once thought of as extended family. She refused to be beaten by fanatics who put people in barrels. They were beneath her. This whole business was beneath her. She squared her shoulders and left her cabin, heading straight for the briefing room.

***

Emily Ajax’s arms were folded as she looked out of the curved windows that ran the length of the briefing room. They were travelling at sublight speed, crawling their way across an almost empty system between jump points in close orbit of

stars. Three suns spun around each other in an erratic orbit and had long ago swept up any debris which might have formed planets, sucking them into their bloated coronae. The closest, a swollen red giant mottled with purple and black sunspots which pulsed across its surface like living things, filled almost the entire vista. Visible just beyond its vast horizon was one of the other stars, a yellow dwarf slowly being drained of its hydrogen by the monster. Shining dimly in the distance, the hot white star which was furthest from its brothers, their eventual destination. It would take them some days to make the journey. Though they had arrived in orbit of the giant, using its gravity to power the tidal drive, a hop across the short space to its remote companion wasn’t an option due to the gravitational instability. This region of the Quadrant was known as Wild Space, where the stars all seemed to carry their own dangers. Kit, Halib, Tarq and Glo were with her in the room, as well as Reeve. She called them her senior staff, like they were part of Spacefleet. In truth they were just her friends from Osiris, some childhood playmates, others former lovers or treasured friends from the party circuit back home. Spoiled rich kids, playing at being outlaws. She wondered how much more she could ask of them. Once she hadn’t baulked at asking them to fight and die for her – they’d proved their loyalty and dedication to her and their cause – now she wasn’t so certain. Now, she felt a constant ache of guilt in the pit of her stomach. Jilly entered and Emily turned to meet her eyes. She looked as she always had on the surface, but there was something different in her eyes since her return back from Parth. She wouldn’t tell her what The Exposed had done to her, but it was evident from her injuries she’d been tortured somehow. Reeve had told her privately she was concerned for the XO’s mental health following the ordeal. Emily agreed, but how could she push her into accepting she needed help, especially when it was her who’d put her in that situation in the first place? Dear Jilly, her most loyal friend. Sweet, gentle and sensible Jilly, always the first with a chiding warning, always the one to pull the rest of them out of scrapes. Now broken by the woman who was supposed to be her captain as well as her friend. “Sit down, please,” she said, and Jilly took a seat near the head of the table, next to the empty chair for Emily. Executive Officer: her right-hand woman. And what had she done to her? But she couldn’t think about that right now. “A few hours ago, I received an encoded message from my father,” Emily told them. “It wasn’t much, not a holo-recording, just text.”

“How can you be certain it was from Captain Ajax?” It felt odd to hear him called that now – she had come to think of The Sunskimmer as her ship rather than her father’s since she’d taken command – but what were they supposed to call him? ‘Robert’? No, that would be even worse. Still, she was the captain now. As if to reassure herself, she placed her hands on the headrest of the empty chair as she stood behind it. It wasn’t the chair, but it was all just symbolic anyway. “My father is very experienced at sending encrypted signals. He has his own complex ciphers he developed in his privateer days. He taught them to me when I was a girl – probably just for fun, since I doubt he ever expected to need them again – and I know no one else knows them. Not even Dracon.” Reeve nodded. Good enough for her apparently. Kit spoke up. “What if they tortured him?” “He’d never yield,” Emily said shortly. She avoided looking at Jilly as she spoke. No one knew exactly what had happened on Parth Majoris and she had to respect her friend’s wish to keep it that way. “Look, this is beside the point. The message was just a set of coordinates and a time stamp. As you know, my father has been travelling around the Quadrants disguised as a merchant, making with some of his old allies. He intends to form a rebellion to stand against Dracon and Spacefleet as they attempt to turn the Free Planets into a military dictatorship. All he asked of me was to travel to Babylon and uncover the mystery of the rings, then we were to rendezvous again, one or both of us at the head of a battle fleet. Well, we know how things went at Babylon, and we have to hope that my father has found what he was looking for.” “What if it’s a trap?” Halib asked. “If it is,” Emily said with a rueful smile. “It’ll be as dangerous for them as us. These are where the coordinates send us.” She tapped the interface implant on her wrist and a holographic image appeared in the middle of the table. It showed a three-dimensional star map, glowing transparent green, speckled with annotated systems and, in the centre, a bright angry-red band, light years in length. “The Promethean Rift,” she announced. There were indrawn breaths across the table. Only Reeve looked relatively unconcerned. “I’m sure you’ve all heard of it, if only as a vague rumour. It’s a celestial phenomenon on the edge of known space, a gravitic wake thought to be formed by a vast supernova billions

of years ago. It was an explosion large enough to have reshaped local space and the effects are still visible – a great band of gas and dust, caught up in a wave more than fifty light years across. It would have dissipated aeons ago but, by chance, it’s become anchored by two star clusters at either end that are now being dragged along with it. As you can see,” she moved the view slightly with a wave of her hand, “behind it is dead space. A corridor fifty light years across swept clean of every star and nebula, obliterated by the Rift. No tidal drive can penetrate dead space. It’s totally unexplored. In every sense, the Promethean Rift is the edge of the galaxy.” The men and women around the table regarded the image on the holo-display with a mixture of awe, reverence and undisguised fear. For people born and raised in space, dependant on tidal drives to connect their interstellar world, this was a vision of true horror. Travel beyond the Rift, and they’d be stranded in the cold depths of space forever. A star’s gravity was required to power the tidal drive that made transluminal velocity possible. No stars, no light speed. “So where are we supposed to be meeting your father?” Tarq, the chief engineer, asked uneasily. “Here.” Emily zoomed in the display on the edge of the Rift, focusing on a star caught up in its fiery edges. There were a few such systems in the process of being swallowed up by it and, though its progress was a slow march through space, there would come a day when its path would take it straight through the populated parts of the Quadrants, even to the worlds of the Free Planets. Millions or billions of years from now, the Promethean Rift would bring about humanity’s doom. “Hephaestus. A fairly ordinary yellow dwarf, not unlike our friend outside. When it was last charted – a few thousand years ago – it had a planetary system, though the Rift may have stripped it away by now. In either case, that’s where we’ll rendezvous. It’s safe, at least politically speaking. A large fleet would be at extreme risk from the gravitational shear so close to the Rift. Trying to coordinate squadrons in that environment would give even iral Dracon pause. He’d never risk it. And he’d never imagine we would either.” “So what’s going to prevent us from getting into trouble?” Kit said. He looked almost sick. “The Sunskimmer is manoeuvrable enough to keep a stable orbit of Hephaestus

so long as we can keep a close eye on the tiller. It’s going to be a lot of work for you, Kit, but I know you can handle this ship better than anyone.” He smiled at the compliment, but then Reeve spoke up. “You said your father was supposed to be waiting with a fleet? Unless they’re all Sunskimmers, he’d be a fool to bring them there.” “I don’t know what my father will have, if anything,” Emily itted. “All I have is the coordinates and a meeting time. For all I know we could just be intercepting a beacon that directs us to the next system.” “That’d be like him,” Kit smiled. “Either way, Hephaestus is the only lead we have. It’s as good a direction as any.” She looked at the holographic image of the angry strip of destruction carving its way slowly through space. Her whole life, the Promethean Rift had been the bogeyman of space travel. Even her father had only ever gone near it reluctantly. If he was asking her to go there, there had to be a good reason for it. “Jilly,” she said. “Any thoughts?” Jilly looked up, seemingly taken by surprise. “What? Oh, no, Captain. That’s… that’s all fine.” “You sure?” She was surprised she had no objections. That was the whole reason she’d made Jilly her XO. “As you say, it’s the only lead we have.” “Right. Well, everyone to their stations then. Kit: set course for the Promethean Rift and Hephaestus.” “Aye, Captain.” They all got up and headed for the bridge. Emily shut down the projection and started to follow the others out then noticed Jilly was still sitting down, staring into space. “Jilly?” She started again. “Captain? Oh…sorry…” She stood up.

“Is everything all right?” “I’m fine. Thank you.” “Are you sure? You know, if you want to talk…about what happened on Parth I mean…or anything else…” Her expression wavered for a second, but then she composed herself and nodded smartly. “It’s not a problem, Captain. Still just a little sore. I’ll be sound as spacedust by the time we get to Hephaestus.” “Right. Glad to hear it.” She watched Jilly as she walked out of the room stiffly and then followed her out to the bridge.

***

A holographic map, even one rendered precisely in three-dimensions, was not sufficient to prepare Emily for the sight of the edge of the galaxy. As they burst from the tidal wake in a flash of blue-white light and the sensors came back online, she was greeted by a jaw-dropping image on the holoscreen. It took her mind a moment to make sense of what she was seeing. All her life, travelling across the Quadrants, seeing the wonders of the galaxy, she had known about this thing. In her head, it was much like any other nebula or dust cloud, but to see it like this, in real time, a scant light year or so away, was completely different. The Promethean Rift was like a ribbon drawn across the stars, a great, rolling wave of destruction. It seemed to be moving even as she looked at it, though she knew its speed was so slow at this scale it was just her imagination. Nonetheless, it was a discomfiting thought. Stellar fragments were caught in it, stars being boiled away to nothing, their mass and energy used to feed the monster. She had a good eye for perspective from watching stars from ships’ windows and screens her whole life, and that was what made the Rift so terrifying. She could see how vast those doomed stars were and how they were dwarfed by the phenomenon, just pinpricks of light in its roiling depths. And, before them, Hephaestus itself, seeming to tremble in the gaze of the

approaching beast. It was a light year away, it might be decades or more before it swept through the system, but the yellow dwarf would have evaporated in the gravitational shear long before that. Even now, Emily thought she could discern the faint glimmer of the solar wind being ripped clear from its corona, pulled towards the immense mass of the approaching Rift. “Holy shit,” Kit said from the helm station. “My thoughts exactly,” Emily agreed. “Halib, are there any other ships in the system?” Halib tapped a few commands on her console. “No, sir. Not that I can tell, although the sensors are taking kind of a beating because of…well…” “Gravimetric distortions, stellar radiation, all that stuff?” Halib nodded. “Pretty much.” “You’d think they’d make these ships capable of actually working in space.” She threw Jilly a conspiratorial wink, and her XO gave her a tight smile in response. It was clear her mind was still somewhere else. Emily didn’t want to push her too hard, but this was a potentially dangerous situation and she needed her friend to be there for her. “All right, well can we scout around a little? What’s in the system?” “Nothing,” Halib said. “Nothing?” Emily turned in her chair. “There’s always something, Halib. Asteroids, comets?” “Nothing,” she repeated. “I think it’s all been torn apart by the eddies from the Rift. I’m surprised the star is still here, frankly.” “And even if there was something,” Kit said, “I don’t think we’d want to try going there.” He held a hand out to his console. “I’m trying to plot a course through the system but all I’m getting are warnings from the computer. Captain, I think if we break orbit, we’re going to be ripped to pieces. The magnetic shielding is already at full capacity and I’m having to make adjustments every thirty seconds just to keep us in the sky.”

Emily swallowed. “If we need to get out of here, can you hold the ship steady enough to activate the tidal drive?” Kit smiled disarmingly. “Don’t worry – that’s not going to be a problem.” “Good. Well, my father brought us here, the only polite thing to do is wait around for a while and see if he shows up. Unless anyone has a better plan?” She looked around the bridge, but no one offered any suggestions. She pointed. “Kit, move us into as high an orbit as you can and engage full-spectrum scans of the entire system. If there’s anything out there, I want to know about it.” “Yes, Captain.” They manoeuvred through space, but there was no escaping the streak of burning fury that divided the universe in two. It took up their whole visual field, it seemed, a huge, tumbling wall falling towards them, promising total annihilation. “Hm,” Kit said suddenly. “What?” “I’m picking something up.” “Halib?” “We’ve only just started scanning, but I can confirm an energy signature. It’s less than a million kilometres away.” “What kind of energy signature?” “I think it was a tidal wake. Someone just came out of light speed behind us.” “Right on time, dad,” Emily said with a small smile. “I don’t think it’s Captain Ajax,” Halib said. She was frowning down at her instruments. “Then who is it?” “I…I don’t know. It’s not an energy signature I recognise.” “Bring us up a visual,” Emily ordered. The holoscreen shifted to give them a view to the rear of The Sunskimmer now.

The Promethean Rift was no longer visible from this direction, only the ordinary, unsuspecting stars and the thin band of the galactic disc above the bright horizon of Hephaestus. There was something else there though, just visible in the darkness. “What is that?” Kit asked. “It’s a ship of some kind,” Halib said. “But I’m having a hard time getting a sensor lock. It seems to be deflecting our signals somehow.” “Is it cloaked?” “We’re the only ship in the Quadrants with a cloaking device,” Halib shrugged. “We are on the edge of space…” Reeve said from the back of the bridge. “It’s not that,” Halib told her. She was still tapping at her console with a frown. “This is really confusing. The signature is…is…” She looked up. “No…it can’t be…” “What?” “It’s…” “Emily,” Reeve said, stepping forward. The ship was flying straight towards them and, as Emily turned, she saw it silhouetted against the star’s rising corona for just a moment. It was a small, black ship, sleek and angular with wings like the grasping talons of an eagle and a fearsome prow bristling with weaponry. Its form was both delicate and muscular, the shape of war and death. She knew it. She’d known it since she was a child. It was a ship from nightmares, from a past long consigned to history. “That’s…” “A Darkstar Raider ship,” Reeve confirmed. She was standing beside Emily now. “But we’re hundreds of light years from the Darkstar Nebula,” Jilly said. She sounded scared, and that made Emily’s heart beat faster. Jilly wasn’t supposed to be scared. “She’s right, Reeve. And all the Raider ships were destroyed after the war. What

is that? A Shadow-class? It’s a frigate. What’s it doing out here?” Reeve had her eyes fixed on the holoscreen, watching the mysterious ship moving towards them. “Not all of them were destroyed,” she said quietly. “No?” “No. There are some…some that the Free Planets never knew about.” “Then how do you know about it?” Kit asked. “Not now,” Emily snapped. “Reeve?” “Void Hunters,” she said. “That’s what they called them. You see, the Darkstar Nebula is so unstable that our tidal drives were only ever designed for short jumps. It wasn’t until the end of the war, when...when Kyle Blackheart started building larger ships that we…that is, they, could go on the offensive. Except before that, they tried a different tactic.” “Sleeper ships,” Emily guessed. Reeve nodded bleakly. “They were sent out into deep space in cryogenic sleep, making short jumps between stars. It took them decades to reach their destinations and then they’d wait for their target and strike.” “My father always talked about unexpected attacks by Darkstar ships far from their territory. He never did figure out how they got there.” “Wait,” Jilly said. “Are you saying that ship might be filled with Darkstar Raiders?” Her face was deathly pale. “Almost certainly. Void Hunters sleep until their quarry is within range, then the ship brings them out of hibernation and they come for them. The men and women in that ship will have no idea that the war’s been over for two centuries.” “Signal them,” Emily ordered Glo. Reeve laughed hollowly. “Those are Darkstar Raiders. They won’t respond to your transmissions.”

“Captain,” Kit said, “they just fired plasma lances!” Sure enough, two bolts of greenish fire were streaking towards them. “Cloak!” Emily bellowed. “It won’t matter now; we’ll be hit before we can activate it!” “Your cloaking device won’t help you,” Reeve said, “don’t you get it? They wait for their target. Each Void Hunter ship only has one.” She held up a finger. “If that ship is firing on us, it means the crew have just been revived and have spotted their prey. Us. They were sent after The Sunskimmer Emily. They’ve waited two-hundred years for you to stray in range of their sensors and now they won’t stop until one of us is destroyed. And you can be damn sure they know how to penetrate your cloak.” “Evasive action then!” “Emily,” Kit said, “if we drop out of orbit, I don’t know if we can stay in one piece.” Emily eyed the approaching plasma contrails. “If we don’t, I guarantee we won’t. Do it, Kit.” The ship lurched as Kit engaged the thrusters and then, suddenly, the magnetic shields were glimmering as the gravitational eddies pulled them this way and that. Emily’s teeth were set on edge as The Sunskimmer was yanked hard to starboard and a vibration travelled the length of the vessel. “I can’t move us fast enough! The shear’s too strong!” “Put everything you have into the engines!” “I don’t know if…” The screen was swallowed by the green blaze of plasma and then there was a dull thud from somewhere behind them and the entire bridge shook. Red alert signals blazed on every terminal. “Report!” Halib swallowed. “Direct hit…somewhere aft…I…I can’t get sensors online…

system failures.” “The shields were already under a lot of pressure,” Reeve said. As the screen cleared, the menacing shape of the Darkstar ship loomed out at them. It seemed much larger up close. More fire sparked from its many weapons systems: plasma for the most part, just like Reeve’s pistols. Beams of superheated charged gas pummelled them; guns that were more primitive versions of their own ion cannons, but which they were still powerless against with shields failing and thrusters pushed to their limit. The ship shook again and the lights on the bridge flickered. Then everything went ominously quiet. “We’re dead in the water, Captain,” Kit said glumly. They were all staring at the enemy ship. “What happens now?” Emily asked Reeve. “Boarding parties,” she said. “They want to take us alive, if they can.” Emily watched as assault craft blasted from the black hull of the Raider ship. “Get internal communications online,” she said to Glo, amazed at how calm her voice sounded. “Tell everyone to get to their nearest armoury. We’ve got a fight on our hands.”

ELEVEN

“Do we have internal sensors online?” Emily asked Halib. Her voice was still calm. This was hardly the first time she’d been in danger. She’d travelled across the galaxy, been in plenty of battles. But this was The Sunskimmer. This was supposed to be a haven. Her father had never let this ship fall and she wasn’t going to let it happen on her watch. “Working on it,” Halib said. The woman was sweating. They all were. It had only been a few minutes since they’d been hit and they’d had to sit here helplessly watching the tiny black shuttles, looking like beetles with grasping horns on their prows that they’d use to smash through the hull of their ship, floating across the void towards them. Minutes of not knowing, of wondering what was going to happen next. “Emily, we need to do something,” Reeve said. “I need sensors. I need to know where they are.” “It doesn’t matter where they are.” Emily rounded on her. “For someone who’s supposed to know how this goes, you’re not being very helpful.” Reeve met her eyes. There was something unspoken going on behind her dark gaze. She and Emily both had their legacies to wrestle with. Reeve probably never imagined hers would confront her so directly, at least at this end of the galaxy. “You can’t defend a ship this size with fewer than three-hundred crew.” It was true. Painfully, unavoidably true. They barely had enough people on board to keep The Sunskimmer flying, let alone repel a boarding action. And how many of the crew could even be relied upon in a desperate fight like this? Combat in the confines of a starship was a bloody, brutal affair, with every metre of deck paid for with human lives. Her father had survived more than a few such

battles, and they were the one aspect of his adventures that he almost never spoke about. “I’ve got partial sensors, Captain,” Halib said, breaking her out of her reverie. “Can you give me a damage report?” “Not exactly, but I can tell you where we were hit – I’m reading two large hull breaches in the aft section. Decks twenty-five and thirty-seven, more or less.” She grimaced. “Magnetic shielding is holding, and we have emergency bulkheads in place.” “Good. Have any of the attack ships hit yet?” Halib’s nimble fingers flew across the holokeys. “I’m reading some systems disruptions on a few decks. Shielding is fluctuating in those sections.” “Reeve?” Reeve bared her teeth. Her scars made her face looked even more distorted than usual. “They attach themselves to the exterior hull with magna-clamps – that’s what’ll be causing the fluctuations. Once they’re locked on, they’ll deploy breaching drills to carve straight through the hull and get inside. That’s when a lot of the damage is done. They’ll lose a number of the assault boats in plasma explosions, most likely, but that’s all taken into . Maybe thirty percent of their crew will be deployed.” “How many Raiders is that?” “A few hundred? That’s not a big ship, and Void Hunters carry the bare minimum.” “That’s a mercy,” Kit said. “They’ll still have us outnumbered,” Reeve reminded him. “And these are seasoned warriors. Clan fighters with nothing to lose. As far as they’re concerned, they’re in the middle of an apocalyptic interstellar war with us.” “Can’t we try to reason with them?” Kit suggested. “I mean, just explain that the war ended? The Darkstars aren’t our enemies anymore.”

“There’s an old saying in the Darkstar Nebula,” Reeve said. “My enemy is the man who stands against me. Once the battle is ed – and as far as they’re concerned, it was the moment they fired their lances – they won’t stop for anything. It’s just our way, Captain.” “All right,” Emily said, circling the centre of the bridge, thinking aloud as she paced. “We don’t have a lot of time. There’s no retreat – they’re here, on our ship, and if we take the lifeboats, we’ll be stranded in a system on the edge of the Promethean Rift. We have to stand our ground somehow. They have us outnumbered and they’re better, tougher fighters than we’ll ever be, even with the trained crew we picked up on the journey.” “How long do you think they’ll stand their ground against Darkstar Raiders?” Reeve asked. “Exactly. So we need to be clever. The fact that we have a skeleton crew can work to our advantage. If they damage those sections where they’ve landed, the chances of them actually hurting someone is pretty remote. We have a disease on board, and the only option I can see is to quarantine it. Bring the emergency bulkheads down to seal off any areas with assault ships attached. Glo, signal the crew to retreat into the rest of the ship.” “They won’t stay cut off for long,” Reeve told her. “They’ll smash through those bulkheads and, if they can’t, they’ll do as much damage as they can to wherever they’re trapped. They’ll go for the engines if they can, try to cause an overload.” “They’ll kill themselves then,” Kit said. “They don’t care. Void Hunters are on a suicide mission anyway.” “You seem to know a lot about this for someone born two-hundred-years after the last Raider ship was dismantled,” he said with a frown. “Now’s not the time, Kit,” Emily snapped. “You know how they fight, Reeve. I’m guessing you might have even been on the other side of one or two battles like this, right?” “One or two,” she said, holding Emily’s gaze. “Okay then. So you’re my go-to girl here. I need you to help me coordinate this

fight. Only you have the expertise I need. There are probably only a few dozen people on The Sunskimmer I expect to put up a fight in these conditions. Anything else is asking too much.” “If they don’t fight, they’ll die,” Reeve said shortly. “Tell them that.” “They’re Osirian nobles, not Spacefleet Marines.” “Don’t go into the void if you can’t defend yourself against its predators.” “Another Darkstar saying?” “No, just common sense.” Emily smiled ruefully. “Nonetheless, we can’t assume anything. Apart from knowing the terrain, what advantages do we have?” “Technology.” It was Jilly who had answered and Emily looked at her askance. The woman looked pale and frightened and she was still staring at the menacing shape of the Darkstar ship on the holoscreen. “Technology?” She looked at Emily. Her eyes were glassy and a little unfocused. “It’s been two centuries. We have railguns.” Emily clicked her fingers. “Of course. Nothing they have can withstand a volley from a railgun. It’ll punch right through their body armour.” “True,” Reeve said, “but we’ll still need to engage them and they’ll fight handto-hand if they have to. You can’t bring them all down with gunfire.” “We can damn sure try.” She was already walking to the door. “Halib, you make sure those bulkheads are in place. Glo, message the section commanders to meet me on deck sixteen, section five-six-one, by the main armoury. Reeve, you’re with me. Jilly,” she met her XO’s eyes, “you’re in command. If that ship attacks again, you’re going to have to keep us safe.” “They’re having enough trouble keeping a stable orbit, just like us,” Kit said.

“Even so.” She looked at Jilly again. “The bridge is yours, old friend.” Jilly nodded. Reeve took her place beside Emily and the doors shut behind them.

***

The Sunskimmer was full of interesting things. Travelling around the Quadrants in it for several centuries, the original Captain Ajax had accumulated many wondrous pieces of technology – the cloaking device being just one of them – and the arsenal of sidearms held in the armouries were of similar provenance. The Meccite Wars had been a relatively recent conflict, one Emily herself had witnessed, although by that time her father was a dignitary, serving as one of several dozen high commanders overseeing the war effort. She’d been nowhere near any real fighting. The Meccites had been an extremely reclusive, xenophobic people with access to incredible technology scavenged from the ancient Cthonian Empire, the vast interstellar regime that predated even the Kelvans’ dominance of this region of space. Legend had it that the Cthonians had the ability to reshape star systems and that many of the stable routes used by modern tidal drives were created by their stellar engineering. They also made use of exotic matter in some of their devices. The Meccites recklessly abused this barely-understood technology and threatened to cause damage to the very fabric of space with their experimentation. War had been inevitable. Their cloaking device was an example of this uncertain, mysterious tech and the railgun was another. Paradoxically, Emily thought as she removed one of the rifles from its retinascan protected locker and handed it to Reeve, because it had been their undoing. Lord iral Dracon, then just the head of Spacefleet Weapons’ Development, had his scientists to reverse engineer Meccite technology to build them. It shared little in common with the ancient ballistic weapon except its name, although it worked on a similar basic principle. “I’ve never seen one of these up close,” Reeve said, running an appreciative hand down the barrel of the exotic weapon. “Well they aren’t exactly standard issue. Except here.” She continued to distribute the guns to the section commanders of The Sunskimmer who crowded into the armoury behind them.

“How dangerous are they?” “Very. Sort of the point.” “I mean to us.” “Oh. Well…” Emily hefted one of the rifles. It was a sleek, menacing weapon, looking not unlike the enemy ship floating just a few hundred kilometres to port. “The magnetic confinement unit can be a little touchy. If you get it too near a shield generator they can cause wave superposition. Destructive interference patterns, and the whole thing might fall apart in your hands. Constructive and it’ll fill the whole room with shells. So yeah, try not to do that.” Reeve held the rifle away from her slightly. “And those ‘shells’…” “Mono-massive exotic matter toroids. They’re massless in the direction of fire, so the gun can accelerate them to near-relativistic speeds, but they have ordinary inertia the opposite way, so anything hit by them…” “Is dead?” “Basically. They look a bit like little gel donuts when they come out.” She tapped the muzzle. “But don’t touch them.” “I’ve heard they can tear straight through a Meccite warrior-hulk…” “Pretty much. They ended a war.” “I guess it’s a shame the one we’re fighting in today is already over.” Emily led them from the locker and sent the section commanders off to their posts. She was still reluctant to order anyone on board to fight. What right did she have to command them? What right did she have to put them in this situation in the first place? She told herself it wasn’t of her making. These Raiders were hunting her father: they just didn’t know this wasn’t his ship any more. But she was the one who’d taken command. She was the one who’d brought them out here, knowing full well how dangerous the galaxy was, what sort of horrors they might face in the black. Reeve’s words ran through her mind again. Predators. The universe was full of them, and she thought she had nothing to fear because she was Captain Ajax’s daughter. Because she thought herself an experienced

spacefarer from her gentle tours of the Quadrants, appearing as a guest of honour at a hundred ambassadorial functions. She was a princess playing at being a soldier and these people had fallen for it too. “This isn’t your fault,” Reeve said, as if reading her mind. “You don’t think so?” They were alone, walking down one of the ship’s narrow corridors. According to the small holographic schematic floating just beside Emily’s wrist, an emergency bulkhead had been brought down to close off the next section, less than two-hundred metres away. “What was the alternative?” “Stay at home in Osiris. I had a life most people in the Quadrants can’t even dream of.” “And what would you have done when Dracon’s plan came to fruition? When the Free Planets fell to him and his military regime and began sweeping across Wild Space, swallowing up every unclaimed system? What would you have done when he’d conscripted your Cartel’s employees into Spacefleet? You might have escaped, but what about the others – Kit, Jilly, Halib. They don’t have your wealth and connections. They’d be consumed by his war machine.” “I know…” “Your father faked his own death to bring you into this war. And you brought your crew into it because you trusted them. They’ve done you proud so far.” “They have,” Emily itted, “and I believe in this cause. But we weren’t bred for it.” “Not like me,” Reeve said. “I didn’t mean…” “No, it’s fine. I’m Darkstar. And my father was literally created to be a violent psychopath. Part of him is inside me, always.” They’d almost reached the sealed off section. As they rounded a corner of the corridor, Emily could see the huge metal bulkhead which had slammed into

place halfway down. While the other walls were a soothing, military grey, this was unadorned gunmetal, studded with polarising reactor plates to repel blunt force. A magnetic field flickered uncertainly across its surface. That meant someone was trying to break through on the other side. No noise could penetrate the metres-thick , but Emily could imagine the sound of the breaching drills boring through it, the continuous ‘krik krik’ of laser fire on the other side as the attackers tried to overload the shielding. “I can’t ask you to stay here by my side,” Emily said, raising her rail rifle to her shoulder. “You didn’t. You gave me an order, like one of your crew.” “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. You were bred for command. I respect your authority on this ship.” Emily cracked a smile. “Just on this ship?” “Off the ship, it’s your bravery and honour I respect. Just don’t try telling me what to do.” “I’ll bear that in mind.” Emily shifted her weapon. “I’m going to shoot through the bulkhead or they’ll tear that whole section apart.” “What was it you said about magnetic fields causing a rail gun to malfunction?” “‘Malfunction’ isn’t really the right word – they were built to do this.” “That’s an act of recklessness worthy of my people…” “We learnt from the best.” Emily pulled the trigger. There was a strange tearing noise, like space itself was ripping under pressure from the warhead and then a volley of flattened grey discs streaked through the air between the rifle and the grim metallic wall. There was a whistling screech as the sound waves reverberated through the corridor and then a cascade of sparks as the shield generator overloaded and the bulkhead spectacularly collapsed in on itself, torn apart by the rail rifle’s hyper-massive munitions. There was a crash of heavy chunks of metal and hydroplas thudding into new, unfamiliar configurations, another shower of sparks and a brief flash of a plasma overload and then all was quiet. Smoke filled the air.

“Impressive,” Reeve said. “Can I try?” “I think you’re about to get your chance…” Bodies were visible on the other side of the bulkhead, Darkstar Raiders in black, men and women bloody and unconscious or dead, and a few faint moans from the survivors of the blast, but there were shadows moving in the electrochemical haze now, and then they came boiling through the breach, casting aside drills and saws and taking up laser pistols and plasma carbines. Their teeth were bared in rictuses of hate, every bit the equal of Reeve’s hideous scars. Tattoos covered their arms and, for a moment, Emily saw through her father’s eyes, imagining the terrible wars he fought. The wars he had in fact unleashed himself. He had willingly subjected himself and others to this horror, all for the greater good. Reeve was not the only one who had to make amends for the actions of her forebear. “They have no interest in mercy!” Reeve called out over the near-feral battle cries as they charged towards them, “Don’t forget that!” “I won’t.” She raised her gun again and hesitated for only a heartbeat before she pulled the trigger and filled the air with fury a second time.

***

Jilly sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge, clenching and unclenching her fists against the worn armrests. She worked to control her breathing, to stay calm, to keep her thoughts logical, rational, ungoverned by the fear coursing through her. She wanted to switch the holoscreen off so she wouldn’t have to stare at the horrible black ship looming over them. It was comparable in size with The Sunskimmer, but this was an ore freighter masquerading as a frigate and the Shadow-class monstrosity was an all-out warship, designed to bring death to a hundred worlds. A few weeks ago she’d sat in this same chair and fought against an entire wing of Spacefleet destroyers though, battleships every bit as deadly as the one out there. Why was it so different? What had changed? She knew the answer. She’d changed. Before Parth, she’d been invulnerable and

immortal, a child laughing in the face of death. Now she’d seen inside herself, seen how pathetic and weak she was. “Commander, I have the internal sensors online,” Halib said from behind her. ‘Commander’? When had that started? She didn’t have a rank, except Executive Officer, who was traditionally a commander, but she wasn’t like Emily. If you were in charge of a starship, you were captain. That just made sense. But now they’d all started to slip into these Spacefleet habits, acting like they were soldiers. They weren’t. They shouldn’t even be out here. “Go on,” Jilly said. Her eyes were still fixed on the Darkstar ship. “Uh…well…it’s hard to tell what’s going on…” “Why?” “There’s a lot of action on the lower decks. I’m picking up weapons’ fire all over the place. Some of the emergency bulkheads have failed, but I don’t know if that’s the Darkstars breaking through or Emily and the others clearing them out.” “What about bio-signs?” Halib shrugged helplessly. “There are twice as many people on this ship as there should be, but I can’t tell who’s who. Maybe a real sensor officer could make sense of this, but I’m kind of flying blind here.” Jilly turned to Halib and saw her own doubts reflected back at her. They had no business trying to run a military vessel in a combat situation. What did they know about this kind of thing? But, Emily was relying on her to command in her absence. Protocol was that the XO should lead the defence in a boarding action, leaving the captain to coordinate from the bridge, but there was never any question of Emily going herself. Jilly was glad no one noticed she hadn’t objected. She should have. It was her job. But what if Emily had listened to her? What if she was down there in the winding corridors, hemmed in as a mob of savages from two-hundred years ago ran at her? So here she was, in the big chair, and she needed to keep everyone else in one piece. She needed to be strong, not weak, as she secretly knew she was. “There’s nothing we can do right now,” Jilly heard herself say. “We just have to sit tight and watch the ship.”

“Jilly…” She turned to see Kit pointing at the ‘screen. More tiny craft were bursting from the Darkstar ship’s serried launch bays. “More assault boats?! They’re not going to have any crew left!” “You heard what Reeve said,” Kit sighed as he readjusted their vector for seemingly the thousandth time. He was sweating with the effort of just keeping them in the sky, never mind the threat of invasion, “their only mission is to destroy us. Honestly, I know I can be a bit of an attention whore, but I think I can live without this kind.” “Agreed,” Jilly said. She wanted to laugh, but she was afraid all that would come out would be a cracked, desperate wail. “Where are they heading, Halib?” “All over the place. I’ve got one coming right at us.” Jilly froze. “What do you mean?” “I mean it’s going to make impact in this section. They’re obviously aiming at the bridge.” “They know our layout,” Jilly said, “of course they do. This is a common ship type, and they were sent here to find us. They’ll know The Sunskimmer better than we do…” “Well it’s had two centuries worth of upgrades since then,” Kit said, “I think we have a few tricks up our sleeves yet.” “The first wave was just to distract us. Now they’re sending in their real killers.” Jilly’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair. What did Darkstar Raiders do to their prisoners? She’d heard stories. They liked to capture slaves and drag them back to the Darkstar Nebula to work them to death in the blackness of their hellish abode. They couldn’t do so now, but they might have a place for them over on the ship. There were always residue-flooded engine ports to clean out, black pits in every ship where a slave might be chained and never seen again. And they’d have ore barrels. If they found out about her nightmare somehow, they’d take sadistic glee in subjecting her to it again, and it wouldn’t be just for an hour this time… “Commander?”

She blinked. “What?” She was still staring at the craft coming towards them. “What are your orders? What do we do?” “We…we have to protect the bridge…” Her mind was working automatically. “If they take the bridge, they’ll be able to destroy the whole ship at will.” “There are emergency bulkheads we can bring down. But they’re supposed to be a last resort in the case of a plasma leak or something.” Jilly’s breathing was fast again. She wasn’t sure why. “What are you saying, Halib?” “I’m saying that once they’re in place, Tarq’s going to need to bust us out again by doing a hard reset of the command protocols. We’re going to be sealed in until the ship’s safe.” Jilly stared at the assault boats. They looked so small, floating across the kilometres between the two huge ships. Little black petals in the wind, harmlessly wafting towards them. Hard to imagine the violence they promised. Hard to imagine the poison they carried. Death on a gust of stellar wind, here on the edge of the universe. The Promethean Rift, the great apocalyptic ribbon of destruction, also as beautiful as it was deadly, was the perfect backdrop for this crystallised moment of time. “Engage the bulkheads,” she said, her voice sounding like it was coming from very far away. “Seal us in.” Sealed in. The lid closing over her head, the lock snapping shut. Alone, in the darkness, sweltering. Was it her imagination, or had the environmental controls been affected by the chaos running across the ship? She did laugh then, and the other bridge crew stared at her. It was just as manic and desperate as she thought it’d be, but she didn’t care now.

***

Emily ducked around a corner as laser fire sparked off the wall behind her. She squatted down and exchanged a glance with Reeve. Both women were breathing hard. “I feel like we’re just making them angry now.” “That’s inevitable,” Reeve said. “They won’t retreat, it doesn’t matter how many of them we kill.” “So it’s only going to get worse?” “Pretty much.” “I never knew how bad this was. My father engineered the Darkstar War, him and Dracon. How many crews lived through a nightmare like this?” “He kicked the hornet’s nest, that’s all. Darkstar Raiders had been fighting amongst themselves and striking at neighbouring systems for generations before anyone ever heard the name Kyle Blackheart. One day we’d have boiled out of the nebula, and what would we have found? A fragmented galaxy, ripe for conquest.” “You sound like an apologist.” “I’m playing devil’s advocate. You don’t need to be carrying guilt right now.” Another burst of fire came from down the corridor, leaving the wall across from them badly scorched. “Survival. That’s all this is. Let politics wait.” “Good advice.” Emily stood up, shouldered her rifle again and stepped out. Only a handful of this band of Raiders was left, perhaps the fifth or sixth they’d engaged, and they were already battered and bloody. Their sidearms were crude compared to hers, and most of them had abandoned their laser pistols in favour of barbed mêlée weapons – cruel, hooked blades attached to their forearms, or on a solid haft held in two hands. The leader of this group, a squat, muscular woman with a shaved head and coiled tattoos covering most of her visible skin, roared in fury as she saw Emily and charged towards her. She stood her ground, taking careful aim, and fired the railgun again. The projectile slammed into the woman’s chest, lifting her off her feet and unleashing a blast which flattened all the Raiders within three metres or so. The leader just had time to examine the ragged wound in her torso with an expression of mild curiosity before slumping to the floor. A few of her fellows picked themselves up and Emily started backing up again, Reeve following closely by her side. “We can’t press

forward,” Emily said, “they just keep coming.” “We’re taking a toll though. We’ll outlast them.” “But how much damage are they doing to the ship while we just try to contain them?” They got an answer when they met with some of their own crew at the next intersection. Carmen, who usually spent her time tinkering with the astronavigation array in the bowels of the ship, jogged up to her. She looked tired and bruised. “Are you okay?” Emily asked her, rather stupidly she thought. “Fine, Captain, all things considered.” Despite her interest in astronomy, she had once been one of Osiris Prime’s most desired debutantes. She hid a mind like a lightning bolt behind her flawless skin and was known across the system for her wild partying. Now she just looked like a soldier, carrying a gun instead of a network interface to pick up messages from her lovers. Emily looked over the team she was leading. She knew them all, and seeing the pain and fear etched on their faces cut her as deeply as any of those Darkstar blades would. Or so she imagined, here in relative safety. “What’s been happening?” “We stopped one of their groups trying to break through the bulkhead protecting the secondary engineering control room on deck fifty. We got them but I don’t know if the shielding will hold against another assault thanks to the railguns.” She held her weapon up as if Emily wouldn’t understand. “Right. Did you leave guards in place?” “Praz and Olivia. I couldn’t spare anyone else.” “You did good. Let’s hope they hold.” She wanted to ask another question, but she feared the answer. “Did you…did you lose anyone?” Carmen grimaced. “They got to Daniel before we could bring them all down. He took a laser bolt to the chest.” Emily swallowed. That was better than being hacked to pieces at least. “That’s all?”

“Just some injuries. I sent the worst to Doctor Lorr. He’s set up a temporary infirmary in the mess on deck twenty-five. It’s clear of the fighting, at least for now.” “That may be where we have to fall back to,” Reeve said, “if it comes to it.” “It’s not going to come to it. We just need to keep a step ahead of them. We’re taking them apart, piece by piece.” Emily brought up the holographic schematic from her interface and looked at it. It was tied into the ship’s sensors, so she could see the damage as it spread. Alerts flashed up from dozens of decks where systems were being compromised. Something made her frown though. “What’s happened to the bridge?” Reeve craned her neck over to look. “The bridge?” “I don’t have a sensor signal, and there’s a damage alert in the ading section.” “If the bridge had fallen, we’d know about it,” Reeve assured her. “They’d have overloaded every plasma conduit on board.” “I’m going to try and get through to Jilly, find out what’s going on.”

***

Sweat pooled in the small of Jilly’s back as she fingered the handle of the fusion pistol she carried. She’d never had cause to fire it before. There were no railguns up here. No one had thought to arm them like the rest of the crew, so they’d fight the Darkstars on their own . That was just how it had to be. “Halib, are you sure there’s no problem with temperature control?” “I’ve got limited sensor access, Commander, but as far as I can tell, everything’s fine.” The lighting on the bridge had darkened, and the holoscreen had shut itself down

automatically. As soon as the bulkheads came down around them, it was like they’d been plunged into their own private universe. The spacious, trapezoid room had never seemed confined before, but now Jilly felt like the walls and ceiling were closing in on her, pressing down with the weight of those massive bulkheads behind them. What if the Darkstars managed to destroy the field generator which held the ship together? What if the bridge collapsed under the weight of itself and slowly crushed them to death? They were still in control of the ship, but it was as if they were on silent running with just the bare minimum to keep them operational. “I’m sure Captain Ajax has everything in hand,” Jilly said, more to reassure herself than any of the others. “If anything was wrong we’d…” Something in the corner of her eye made her turn and she watched as the magnetic shielding on the bulkhead which had closed over the door to her left began to shimmer. “What’s that?” “They’re trying to break through,” Kit guessed. “They’ll never make it…” “They got into the ship, didn’t they? That bulkhead isn’t thicker than the outer hull.” Jilly swallowed. “We’re perfectly safe. This is the most heavily armoured section of the entire ship right now.” They all exchanged uneasy glances. The energy field kept flickering.

TWELVE

Reeve was yelling a wordless battlecry as she fired her railgun, taking out dozens of the Raiders in one horrific, bloody volley. They fell en masse, never faltering under the withering hail of fire, just throwing themselves forward like animals being slaughtered. Already, Emily was growing numb to the carnage. Her own railgun clicked uselessly as its depleted power cell finally gave up and she tossed it aside contemptuously, grabbing one from the still-warm grip of Carmen, who now stared blindly up at the ceiling. “Drive them back!” she bellowed to her beleaguered squad, unleashing a fresh burst of fire. They were advancing now, towards the stern of The Sunskimmer, taking every stolen corridor back with blood and hate. She ed what Reeve had said. This was survival. No mercy. It was them or the Raiders. The ethics of conflict meant nothing to her now. She just wanted to drive them back into space. A towering Darkstar managed to reach their lines. He leapt at Reeve with a hooked blade in his hands and a snarl of fury contorting his face. He would have decapitated her with one swing, but she drove the butt of her rifle into his stomach almost casually, knocking him to one side, then discharged it at point blank range into his chest. The effect was explosive and red ruin covered the intersection they defended. Emily bowed her head as the gore rained down, wondering how it had come to this. “Look,” someone said. She glanced up and saw them running. They were actually retreating. Slowly at first in ones and twos, but then together, the whole of this band turning tail and fleeing down the corridor, back to their ship. Reeve sank down to her knees, resting on her railgun, propped up beside her. “I don’t believe it.” “What’s happening?” Emily asked her. Reeve shook her head. “We broke them.”

“You said they’d never retreat.” “I didn’t think they would. I doubt they expected resistance this stiff.” Emily straightened. Her chest swelled with pride. A rag-tag band of spoiled rich kids they might be, but they’d fought hard enough to smash the Darkstars today. How many Spacefleet crews could say that? “What happens now?” “I don’t know,” Reeve said. “Did you get through to Jilly?” The mystery of the bridge was a perplexing one. All attempts to get a comm signal had failed so far, but as Reeve said, if they’d taken the ship’s command centre, they’d probably already be dead. She tried again on her interface, but just got a buzz of static. “We can’t stay here,” she said to the others, “they’re running, but they’re not gone yet.” She led them down the corridor, past the bodies and smoking control s and conduits. They stepped through the wreckage of a bulkhead and then Emily’s breath caught as her eyes beheld the sight she’d only seen on the holoscreen so far. The Promethean Rift, carved across the starscape, angrily advancing on them, a threat more dire than any amount of Darkstars. She could see it with the naked eye because just ahead of her was a hull breach, cut through two decks like a ragged wound in The Sunskimmer’s flank. “Dad’s going to kill me,” she said to herself. Seeing the innards of the ship like this was disconcerting. The hull was several metres thick with layers of plating, conduits, generators – and who knew what unfathomable machineries keeping it in one piece as it flew through space – now ripped apart like paper. Open to the vacuum. Magnetic fields held the atmosphere in, an automatic failsafe, hard-coded into the very fabric of the ship’s systems. Even if the computer core was ripped out, these shields would hold. Debris floated free from the gash though and, just visible in the blackness of space, the assault craft which had brought the Darkstars to them was retreating, taking its cowed and defeated crew back to safety and, hopefully, reprisal. Emily stepped forward, looking out of the breach. The Promethean Rift took up most of the sky, but she could just make out the glow from Hephaestus below. If she moved closer and looked directly at it, it would sear her retinas away in an instant. This was no filtered holo-image. This was reality. She looked up and saw it then – the sinister shape of the Shadow-class ship, the terrible monster which

had brought them so much death today. It was trapped like them, making constant course corrections with its thrusters to stay in orbit as the gravimetric shears from the Rift buffeted it back and forth. “This doesn’t end here, Emily,” Reeve said at her shoulder. The woman’s already grotesque appearance wasn’t enhanced by the blood now spattering her from head to foot. It didn’t seem to bother her though. “What can we do? We’re helpless.” They could see more assault boats drifting back towards the larger ship. It seemed the retreat was total. Emily had fought across most of the ship, reinforcing her crew in many places, and they’d been fighting just as hard everywhere. She could well believe they’d been victorious. “The boarding action might have failed,” Reeve said, “but they still have weapons. They’ll fire again if they can stabilise their vector. We’re heavily damaged.” “We’re in no shape for a space battle,” Emily agreed, “but I can’t the bridge.” “We do have one option. There are still assault boats attached to the hull…” “A counter strike?” She looked around at her exhausted crew. They were slumped against the walls of the corridor, many of them bearing visible injuries. She had no doubt it was the same all over the ship. “We can’t take them on in their own territory.” She waved her wrist. “I might have schematics for a Shadow-class in my databank, but not enough to make an assault anything but suicide.” “I know my way around that ship,” Reeve said. “Even so…” Reeve gestured wildly towards the hull breach. “Right now, the boarding parties are limping back over there. If the attrition rate where we fought was typical, a third of their crew might be dead. They’re vulnerable.” “I’d feel better sending an antiphoton volley over there while their launch bays are open…”

“Me too. But we might not get another opportunity. Who knows if our weapons are even working?” Emily glanced out into space. The ship glowered at her. Void Hunters, relics of a war they’d lost when she was a tiny child. Still fighting, still hating. Was this the universe punishing her and Reeve for the actions of their fathers? Was this the legacy they were destined to reap? “If we go over there, it’s just me and you, like at Babylon.” “I think that would be best.” “What are you hoping to find on that ship, Reeve?” “That’s my business.” “You said I was your captain while you were on this ship.” “You are.” “And when we’re over there?” Reeve held her hands out. “Over there, we’ll see what happens.” Emily stepped back towards the intact section of the corridor. “I’m going to try ing the bridge one more time. You find us a functioning assault boat, if you can.”

***

The bulkhead collapsed and they poured through. Laser blasts scorched the air and Jilly screamed as she threw herself from the chair and tumbled to the floor. They charged into the bridge, snarling like animals, swinging things which looked like axes and swords, as if they were primitives from an isolated fringe world who had regressed to barbarism. She could only watch helplessly as one of them cut Glo down. Halib fired her fusion pistol, taking the one running in her direction off his feet, but there were two more behind him. Kit was taking cover behind his console, but he at least had the courage to duck out and take a wild shot, causing a control to rain sparks down across the bridge. The air was hot from the fusion blasts. Her whole body was slicked with sweat. Halib was being overpowered, beaten down by bludgeoning blows from the heavy haft of a weapon. They wanted them alive, of course. They were the bridge crew. They assumed she was the captain and that meant she was worth more than the others. If only they knew. If only they could understand how worthless she was, they’d kill her out of hand. There was no honour in killing a coward. Except it wouldn’t go that way. They’d torment her before the end, just because it gave them pleasure to do so. She put her hands over her head, as if it would protect her. Kit stood up as the Raiders swarmed across the bridge, and tried to shoot again, but three laser pistols aimed at him made him throw his weapon aside and put his hands up. They laughed and gestured for him to sit on the floor. The rest of the crew were likewise subdued. All had been attacked or threatened, except her. They went down fighting, but she had cowered from the moment they broke through. Now she whimpered quietly to herself as a shadow fell across her. “Do you command here?” She glanced up and stared into the eyes of a lean, pale woman with one empty eye socket. She bared her teeth, and Jilly blanched as she saw they were filed into sharp points. “I…I…” The woman reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair, hauling her roughly

up to her feet. “Where is Captain Ajax?” “She’s…she’s…” The Raider backhanded her hard across the face, sending her sprawling down to the floor. Her eyes filled with tears. “Where is Captain Ajax?!” she demanded. “Who are you? A concubine? I thought the great warrior of the Free Planets had better taste!” “I’m…I’m the XO.” The Raider threw a kick at her stomach and she curled into a ball, holding her midsection protectively. “XO,” she scoffed before stepping over her and planting herself down casually in the captain’s chair. “Someone see what’s happening.” Another Raider, a dark-skinned man with his hair styled into a long crest which ended halfway down his back, stepped up to Halib’s console and tapped a few keys. “Systems are still offline,” he snarled. The leader kicked Jilly again. “Can you tell the status of our boarding parties?” “I’m scanning for bio-signs. Something’s wrong.” He slammed a fist into the console. “The bulkheads protecting the bridge have locked me out.” “Cowards hiding in their holes, like rats in a pipe.” She eyed Jilly on the floor and somehow it was as if she knew, like she could see into her mind and take out all the sad, miserable parts of her for examination. One of the other Raiders, another woman, with arms thicker than Glo’s and covered in scars or brands, pulled out an interface of her own. It was a crude, ancient thing and she waved it around the bridge a little. “I’m picking up the signatures of our boats,” she growled in an accent so thick Jilly could barely understand her. The leader glared. “How? Their engines aren’t powered up.” “This can’t be right.” “What?”

“They’re…going back to the ship.” The leader surged up to her feet and stalked across the bridge. Jilly took the opportunity to shuffle backwards so she was sitting up, resting at the base of the railings that ran around the back of the room. She looked across to Kit, sitting morosely on the floor. His pistol was lying on the ground out of reach, but he was staring at her. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘What?’ she mouthed at him. “They’re retreating!” The leader of the Raiders roared, hurling her comrade’s scanning device across the room in a rage. “What is this meaning of this?!” Jilly wondered that herself. Reeve said the Darkstars would never retreat. Maybe they’d captured everyone else? Maybe they were dragging them back to their ship in chains? “How many are left alive on this ship?” the leader demanded, evidently thinking the same thing. “You threw my scanner away!” the other one said. “So go and pick it up!” “You don’t command here. I have more blood than you.” She bared her teeth, which were mercifully normal. “Your blood was won in border wars! I was blooded on Atlas. I took the heads of a dozen Marines that day.” “Spacefleet children! I killed a Yelvian dog-man with my bare hands! I ripped the throat from Rax, the most fearsome fighter in the Hellstar Clan!” “Rax was a spent force when you met him in battle, whore.” As their indecipherable argument continued, distracting the other Raiders on the bridge, who seemed captivated by the possibility of a fight breaking out, Jilly looked towards Kit again. He was still trying to tell her something. He looked around for a second and then pointed at her. He mouthed something, but she couldn’t make it out. He very carefully pointed towards his belt and moved his eyebrows a second time. She looked down at her own belt. Her fusion pistol was right there, still in its

holster. They hadn’t even noticed she was still armed. They’d dismissed her that quickly and now she was the only one of them on the bridge with a weapon. She swallowed and shook her head at Kit. It wouldn’t matter. The Sunskimmer was already lost. Better not to anger them. Better to hope they’d be merciful. But even she was disgusted with herself for thinking that. Would Emily capitulate so readily? No, she’d fight until the end. In fact, she probably had. She was almost certainly dead now, her corpse lying somewhere in a corridor, probably unnoticed by these brutes. They still thought they were looking for her father. “I have sensors online,” the Raider at Halib’s terminal said. The leader turned to him. “Then give me a report!” “Don’t turn your back on me!” the woman arguing with her shouted. She reached out a meaty hand, but the leader grabbed her wrist and, with one horrible movement, snapped her massive arm in two like it was a twig. She sank down to her knees with a groan of pain. “Question my authority again and next time it will be your neck.” She turned back to the man at the console. “Report!” “I’m picking up fewer than three-hundred bio-signs on board…” “We brought over at least that many! Have we killed all the crew?” “No. They’re not in the sections we attacked. Most are gathered together in a room on the twenty-fifth deck.” “Perhaps we have the survivors trapped?” “I’m not detecting any weapons’ fire.” He looked at her in confusion. “Are you saying,” the leader said slowly, advancing on him, “that our warriors have been driven off this jumped-up freighter by a gang of Free Planets’ dogs?” “It…it appears that way.” Jilly’s eyes went wide. Was it possible? Had Emily won somehow? She couldn’t imagine how her friend and captain had managed to drive these monsters away, but it seemed to be true.

“I have scanned our boats,” the man continued, “there are bio-signs, some very faint. We…we are in retreat.” “This will not stand!” The leader smashed her fist down into the nearest console, causing a crack to snake across the surface of its control . “Overload the tidal drive!” “I don’t know if I can.” “Then overload anything you can! Plasma conduits, whatever. I will see this ship burned out of the sky!” “No, you won’t.” Jilly was standing up. When had she stood up? Her hands were shaking as she held the fusion pistol in front of her, pointing it more or less at the leader’s chest. She licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. She didn’t recall deciding to do this, but something had obviously kicked in in the back of her mind, some instinct for foolhardy courage she didn’t know she possessed. The leader looked at the barrel of the pistol and smiled, showing off her hideous teeth. “Child, put your master’s weapon away. You are better suited to the bedroom than the battlefield, no?” “I told you,” Jilly said, more forcefully than she’d intended. “I’m the Executive Officer of this ship.” “Why would Captain Ajax chose you? What do you have to offer the universe?” Jilly’s nostrils flared. Something was burning inside her, something she’d buried these last weeks. She’d been scared for so long, it seemed, dreading what Emily and the others would think of her if they knew her secret. She’d been hurt and the memory of it terrified her, but there was also something else there, something deeper, stronger. She lifted the pistol. “Hate,” she answered. She pulled the trigger. It happened in an instant, the whoomph of air being compressed, the hiss of burning flesh and then the Raider was staring down at the smoking hole in her chest. All at once the bridge burst into activity. Kit dived across the floor and retrieved his own pistol. The remaining Raiders were leaping towards her or pulling out their guns, even the one with the broken arm was struggling up to her feet, even

as her leader dropped to the floor dead. “Jilly!” Kit shouted. He pointed up at the plasma conduits running along the wall near the ceiling. She took aim and he did likewise. They fired and a blossom of green flame erupted across the bridge as they dived clear of the blast. Screams echoed around the room and slowly faded to low, injured moans. After a few seconds, Jilly risked climbing up to her knees and taking a look around. She surveyed a scene of utter devastation. All the Raiders seemed to be dead or severely injured, badly burned by the plasma which still flickered above their heads but was gradually supressed as the automatic systems locked out the conduits and released neutralising gas into the atmosphere. “Halib?” she whispered. “Are you okay?” Halib clawed her way upright, pushing aside the charred remains of the man who’d usurped her station. “My console’s shot,” she said. “Glo?” There was no reply, so Kit crossed over to this station. “He’s alive, but only just.” Jilly sank back down to the floor. The room stank of burning flesh and the air was hot and dry. She was sweating still. Somehow though, it didn’t seem as bad as it had been. “We won,” she said. “We must have.” “This console is okay,” Kit said, “I think I can get communications back.” She nodded weakly. “See if you can find Emily.” “I’ve got a message.” “A message?” “Someone was trying to reach us I guess.” He tapped a holokey and looked up, his eyes wide. “It’s Emily.” “What?” Jilly pulled herself up using the captain’s chair. “What’s happening?” “She…she wants us to fire on the Darkstar ship.”

“Do we have weapons?” “I don’t know. Probably not. But this was sent a while ago. She says…” he moved closer, listening to the tinny voice coming through the interface. “Uh…” “Kit? What’s going on?” “She says she’s going over to their ship.” She stared. “What?” “Something…something about taking one of their assault ships…she and Reeve are going.” Jilly stood up and turned to the front of the bridge and the blank display. “Can you get the holoscreen working?” “I think so.” After a few seconds it flashed to life. The Promethean Rift loomed out of the sky above the horizon of Hephaestus, but in front of that was the black, cruel shape of the Darkstar vessel. Tiny ships were floating back towards it in a swarm but there was one more at the back, alone. Jilly knew who it carried. She didn’t know what they had planned, but she did know there was nothing she could do about it. She sat back down in the chair and watched the screen, ignoring the corpses that littered the bridge.

***

“The landing bays are open,” Emily said. They were in the stolen Darkstar assault boat. It had an austere, militaristic interior with narrow benches along either side. Supposedly it could carry thirty warriors, although Emily didn’t think it would be very comfortable. The pilot controls, set to one side of the fore section, were pretty basic – unlike a shuttle, this ship was designed to go in one direction and had only very rudimentary thrusters. A determined defence from a

functioning battleship would easily destroy dozens of these things, as Emily had remarked to Reeve earlier. “They only send them in against crippled enemies,” she’d shrugged. “I can follow the rest of the boats in,” Emily said now. “No. We’ll never fight our way up through the ship and we’ll find ourselves surrounded by them. Bring us up a few degrees – we want to attach ourselves as close to the bridge as we can.” “We’re going to cut our way in?” Reeve smiled. “Has a certain poetic justice about it, don’t you think?” “We can use the railguns to punch through the hull.” “Right.” “If they don’t shoot us down first.” Reeve pointed out through the angled window. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” The Darkstar ship was moving erratically and its shields were shimmering. “They’re trying to hold their orbit to bring the boats back on board. Their targeting matrices will be less than useless against something this small.” “You’d better be right,” Emily said as she altered their vector slightly. They moved closer and closer to the ship, until its black, windowless hull took up the entire view. Emily worked the controls, deploying the magna grapples that emerged from the front of the craft like clawing pincers. There was a thud as they made and, after a few seconds of adjustment to lock on, the airlock in front of them slid open, revealing the pitted skin of the frigate. It was an odd experience, being so close to the outside of the ship like this. The magnetic shields rippled as they pushed against the integrity fields. Emily shouldered her railgun. “This could be interesting…” She stood back a little way and took aim, not that it was that necessary. There was the characteristic crack as the projectile whipped through the air and smashed into the hull. The shielding evaporated instantly and the metal gave way as it failed, tearing apart under the impact. Emily released a second volley and it buckled further, sending sparks and

plumes of gas into the atmosphere of the assault boat. One more shot and the crack was wide enough for them to clamber through the wreckage. They found themselves in a corridor with red alert lights blazing along the walls. The interior of the ship was as dreary and spartan as that of the craft they’d just left, with narrow, oppressive dimensions, but Emily didn’t care. “Which way?” she asked. Reeve pointed. “The bridge is that way.” As they dashed along the corridor, the floor occasionally shuddered beneath them and there was a creak from the nearby bulkheads. “You weren’t wrong about them being in trouble,” Emily said. “They’re going to have all those boats on board soon, and then they’ll start hammering The Sunskimmer.” “Then let’s do what we came here to do.” Even as she spoke, three Raiders appeared around the corner. Emily was beyond fear now – she’d been fighting them for hours. Before they pulled their weapons out, she and Reeve had already fired, reducing them to a mass of torn flesh. Emily stepped over the ruin numbly but as they moved towards the entrance to the bridge, it was Reeve who took the lead. She jabbed the control and walked in calmly. The bridge was a low, dark room and a man sat alone in the command chair. As they entered, he turned to look at them. “Greetings,” he said in a perfectly level voice. He was a large man, broad shouldered with heavy, thickly muscled arms that displayed his elaborate tattoos. His hair and long, braided beard were black, but streaked with grey, and a multitude of scars covered his craggy features. “What is this?” Emily asked, looking around. “Defeat,” he spat. “For us?” “Yes. Eventually.” “He means him,” Reeve said. “How many have you lost?” “I sent half my crew complement over, but we lost ten percent in hibernation. I don’t know how many are limping back, but I’d estimate only a small fraction.”

Emily glanced at the unmanned consoles. “Where are your bridge crew?” “Dead I suppose.” “You stayed here. Why?” “A captain’s place is on his bridge. You should know that. I assume you’re Captain Ajax’s successor?” “I am Captain Ajax. His daughter.” “Ah. How long have we been away? I see weapons’ technology has advanced.” He nodded at the guns in their hands. “Two centuries,” Reeve answered. “And the war is over, yes?” Emily shook her head. “If you know this, why are you fighting us?” “It’s my mission. I’m a Void Hunter.” “Your mission is pointless! The war was fought and lost two-hundred years ago!” “It’s all I have, Captain. Just like your ship. You defended it to the death and well, I should add.” “This is getting us nowhere,” Emily said in an exasperated tone. “You’ve lost. Leave. Go back to the Darkstar Nebula, or wherever you want. We’ve got no way of stopping you now.” “No. Your fate has been sealed.” He gestured to the helm console, “I’ve set a collision course.” “With what?” “Your ship, of course. And the tidal drive is set to overload on impact. We’ll both be annihilated.” “You’re insane.”

“He’s a Darkstar Raider,” Reeve said. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the captain. “Who are you?” “Vahl.” “Your clan?” “Battlefire.” He pointed at her. “You’re Darkstar. Why are you fighting beside these people?” “Like she told you, the war’s over.” “Have things changed that much?” “I won’t bore you with the politics, but yes.” Emily leaned in to her. “Are you trying to negotiate with him?” “It’s too late for that.” “She’s right,” Vahl said as he stood up. He was a head taller than Reeve. “I’m not your enemy, girl.” “My enemy is the man who stands against me.” Vahl bowed his head. “And those who stand against me shall fall before me,” he replied, like he was intoning a mantra. “Reeve? What’s going on?” “Stand aside, Emily. This is what has to happen.” She tossed aside her railgun and pulled out the two plasmas pistols she always carried, but instead of firing them she flipped them around and activated a switch that reconfigured them into a pair of jagged blades that sat comfortably in her hands. Emily raised her eyebrows. Vahl reached behind his chair and pulled out a two-handed weapon with a long blade down the haft. Like Reeve’s weapons, it was cruelly hooked and barbed. “I like to know who I’m killing,” he said. “Who are you, girl? What’s your clan?” “Imperial,” she answered with a small smile.

Vahl paused. “I see.” “The name’s Reeve Blackheart. You may have heard of my father.” The Darkstar captain licked his lips. “You’ll make a worthy trophy.” “No, I won’t.” “Reeve,” Emily said, trying to inject as much urgency into her tone as possible. “This ship is about to crash into The Sunskimmer. Do we have time for this?” “Just stand aside. This won’t take long.” “Insolent pup,” Vahl snorted. “I wonder if you live up to the name you carry.” “Why don’t you try me?” There was a gleam in her eye that disturbed Emily. Her gaze flicked to the helm console. Could she override the command in time? No doubt he’d locked the navigation out. She looked at Reeve and Vahl and decided to take her companion’s advice. She stepped towards the wall. “You’ll die screaming,” Vahl promised. “Probably, but it won’t be by your hand.” She charged forward with an animalistic roar, swinging her blades in a deadly arc. Vahl raised his own weapon and they glanced off each other with a spark. They were locked in that tableau for a second before the more powerful man was able to hurl Reeve backwards with a thrust. He swung for her, but she sidestepped easily and slashed him across the face. He laughed through the blood that blossomed on his cheek and drove the butt of his weapon into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. He switched his grip and swung the blade around in an arc that would have severed her head from her shoulders, but she rolled beneath it with a speed that stunned Emily. She stayed on the floor and swept her legs out, tripping her opponent. He landed with a dull thud, an oof of expelled air beside her, and she leapt smoothly up to her feet in one motion. She stabbed down with her blades, only for him to roll clear and upright, swaying slightly. He was strong and canny, but old. Reeve didn’t look at all concerned. He had his back to her and, for a moment, Emily considered raising her weapon and taking a shot, but Reeve met her eye and stopped her dead. Vahl used the momentary distraction to swing again, but Reeve was too quick for

him. She sidestepped neatly and threw a kick into his midsection. She carved a red ribbon across one of his biceps and then headbutted him in the jaw. He staggered backwards, reeling as she sliced the air in front of him, just managing to keep away from the web of silver moving in front of his eyes. He started hacking at her, making desperate lunges, but she deflected them all. With a bellow he threw himself at Reeve, bearing her down to the floor. He dropped his weapon and, unable to grab it again in time, wrapped his hands around her throat and tried to throttle her. Reeve brought her blades up and scored two ragged cuts across his arms. He released her with a yell and she planted her feet against his chest and kicked him backwards into a console. Glass cracked on the as he crashed into it and slumped down. He was unarmed now. “Reeve…” Emily said. There was no holoscreen, but she could see the helm’s readout from where she stood. They were getting closer to The Sunskimmer. Reeve kicked Vahl’s weapon towards him. “Pick it up.” “Reeve, what are you doing?” Emily asked. “I’ve killed enough outmatched targets today. Let him die with a weapon in his hand.” Vahl stooped down and picked it up. “I never liked your father.” “A Void Hunter from Battlefire? You never even met him.” “Never liked what he stood for. Never liked the way he thought. I always wondered if he was truly Darkstar, or just some renegade from the soft worlds.” He couldn’t know how close he was to the truth. That Blackheart’s war was engineered by her father and Dracon. This war, the one the men and women on this ship still thought they were fighting. This was their legacy. “He was Darkstar,” Reeve said. “And so am I.” “So end this the Darkstar way.” He held the weapon to one side, baring his chest, “what’s done is done.” “What’s done is done,” Reeve nodded. She launched herself towards him, but suddenly he brought his blade up and slashed it across her face. There was a spray of hot blood and she staggered to one side.

“Reeve!” Emily shouted. Vahl raised the weapon high over his head. Reeve was on her knees, holding her face. Emily didn’t hesitate. She lifted the rifle and took aim, but just at that moment the deck heaved beneath her feet and sent her shot wild. It hit a terminal behind him and a shower of sparks rained down. He stumbled away, arms raised and Reeve struck, surging to her feet and driving her blades into his stomach. She twisted them with a hideous squelch, holding Vahl’s gaze as she watched the blood bubble on his lips. “You die,” she whispered, “screaming.” She pulled the blades up, driving them deeper into his flesh. He let out a strangled cry. She didn’t let go, refused to allow him any mercy, she just held him there, staring into his eyes, watching him die, slowly. As she continued to twist the blades in his innards, he did indeed begin to scream. “Reeve.” She pulled the weapons out of him and let him drop to the floor with a groan. “It is done,” she said softly. Emily looked at her. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. “Did you find what you came for?” she finally asked. “Yes.” She sank down to one knee and picked up Vahl’s discarded blade. The cut on her face was still bleeding, covering her dark cheek in crimson. “We have to get out of here. Can you disable the tidal drive overload?” “Maybe.” Reeve crossed over to a console and pressed a few holokeys. “He’s locked out the controls.” “Then we need to get back to The Sunskimmer.” “We’ll never make it back in time.” “I’m not dying on this ship,” Emily snapped. “What about thrusters?” “I have thruster control,” Reeve confirmed. “Can you alter our vector?”

“Yes.” “That’ll buy us some time to figure out how to stop this ship from exploding.” Reeve shook her head. “No.” “Reeve, this is over. There are still people on board.” “Darkstar Raiders.” “Who were misled. But they don’t have to die like the rest.” “What choice do they have?” Emily looked down at Vahl. “Will they follow you?” “I killed their captain in hand-to-hand combat. They’d follow me beyond the Promethean Rift if I ordered it.” She nodded out towards the front of the bridge. “So save them. Let that be your legacy.” “Their age is dead, Emily. Let them die with it. They don’t belong in the world you want to build.” Emily sighed. “I’m not going to argue. We need to get off this ship right now. Have you changed our heading?” “I have. But I’m not leaving this ship. I’m dying with them.” She moved to the captain’s chair and sat down. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “I’m the last of the Darkstar Raiders. This is how it has to be.” “No. That’s not what’s going to happen.” Reeve looked at her. “How are you going to stop me, Emily?” “Stand up.” “What?”

“Humour me. Just stand up.” “You’re not captain here. If anything, I am.” “It’s not an order, it’s a request. Because you respect my bravery and honour, ?” Reeve stood up. Emily walked towards her and then hit her as hard as she could across the jaw. On any other day, the towering Darkstar would probably have just laughed at her, but this time it had the desired effect and she slumped over, unconscious. Emily caught her and lifted her on her shoulder. “Bloody hell, you’re heavy.” She hefted her friend and dragged her towards the door. They didn’t have long to get back to the assault boat.

THIRTEEN

Horb limped his way along the dark, curving corridor which followed the exterior hull of the Typhon Bastion. There were no windows – the armour that separated the interior of the vast station from the vacuum of space was many metres thick – and the lights were dim and watery. The murk and decay of the lower levels of the Bastion made it a miserable environment and Horb had spent far too long here for his liking. He was supposed to have left weeks ago, but he’d been held up waiting for his . As he ducked through a low, creaking doorway and onto one of the catwalks overlooking the main bazaar, he paused to check the interface he kept hidden inside his coat. It was a fairly basic model, but showing it off would be enough to attract the attention of one of the gangs of thugs who roamed the crowded marketplace. The cavernous space was maybe a kilometre across and about half as high, with more catwalks, stairways and precarious overhangs clawing out of the walls all the way up to the ceiling, lost in a pall of smog. Mismatched lights were strung across the space from crisscrossing wires jacked directly into power conduits in the walls. It was a foulsmelling den of crime and depravity, but as a merchant of only middling fortunes, this was as high as he could rise in the great, space-borne edifice of the Bastion. There were plenty of places less pleasant to be during his stay here, Horb reminded himself. He made his way slowly along the walkway, peering over the railings at the noisy sea of people below. Stalls and ragged lean-tos abutted more permanent structures, some built into the Bastion’s ancient architecture, others assembled from salvaged bulkheads or burned-out plasma generators. In each of them, wares of all kinds were being sold by merchants from a dozen different systems. Just from where he stood, Horb could see an open stall filled with hanging cuts of meat. They looked like beef, but it was probably best not to examine them in good light. Next to the butcher, a woman called out offering necklaces hung with chiming crystals she claimed contained black holes. They were certainly eyecatching, but Horb had been around long enough to spot a swindler. One of the busiest stands was tended by two burly men selling all manner of mismatched machine parts. Horb recognised fuel canisters, ion cells, magna studs and at least

one piece of a docking clamp as large as one of the merchants themselves. They attracted a large crowd, probably because repairs were so expensive at the Bastion and a lot of spacefarers who’d limped their way there with ships in desperate need of attention from a good engineer simply decided to take matters into their own hands. The Cartel that ran this place could extract whatever tithes they wished in this remote, lawless part of space. Lawless except for their law, of course. As Horb carried on his way, he watched the Enforcers from the corner of his eye. They swaggered along the catwalks in their black body armour, faces hidden behind blank helmets, heavy fusion rifles held nonchalantly across their chests. All of them wore the Cartel’s badge – a sinuous, many-headed serpent – and everyone who scurried past them studiously ignored their brooding presence. Arrests could be arbitrary and punishment was almost always swift and brutal. No one wanted to attract their attention, least of all a man like Horb. He moved towards one of the staircases which led down to ground level and made his way down carefully. The stairs were rickety and in need of repair, but there was little incentive for the Cartel to invest in the infrastructure of the lower levels. If things got dangerous, they’d probably just flush the entire compartment into space and start again. It wouldn’t be the first time. He negotiated the crowd slowly. People from all over the Four Quadrants were conducting their business in the shadows and Horb, who had travelled far and wide, recognised clothing from systems as far flung as Bakka, Tetron, Pon Hael. Even Lumina. Although he walked with a limp, was approaching old age and had a slumped, forlorn aspect, he was still a large man, and the throngs seemed to part for him. He stopped at a refreshment stall and purchased a cup of jolla, the sticky, aromatic beverage that was popular in this part of the sector and retired to one of the tables set up under an awning of ragged snythcloth stretched across a bare patch of floor. He had to pay another small fee to get a seat alone, but this had become a daily ritual now. He sat in silence, watching the crowd move past, sipping on the sickly drink. He could only afford to stay here for a short time, and he was just getting ready to move on when a hooded figure ducked under the awning and glanced in his direction before heading to the counter to get his own cup of jolla. He made a show of looking for a place to sit before ing Horb at his table. They sat there for a moment before his companion took a gulp of the jolla and then made a disgusted sound. “What is this stuff?” he asked as he put the cup

down on the grimy table and pushed it away. “I think it’s made from fungus that grows in the sumps. They have to pump it full of chemicals to make it palatable.” “You drink it a lot?” “You should see what the water’s like here.” Horb drained the last of his cup with a grimace. “I thought you’d never arrive,” he said. “I got waylaid.” “Oh?” “Spacefleet checkpoint at Obal Prime.” Horb raised his eyebrows and stroked his greying moustache thoughtfully. “They’re a long way out of their jurisdiction.” “Tell them that. Wild Space isn’t as wild as it used to be. There are patrols further and further out now. More Free Planets’ ships out here than in two centuries.” He gave Horb a significant look. “Well, that’s as may be,” the merchant replied, looking away for a moment. “Thank you for coming though. I hope you have some good news for me.” The hooded man nodded. “I believe I found who you were looking for.” Horb grabbed his arm, forgetting himself for a second. He glanced around, making sure no one had seen, then took his hand away. “You’re sure?” “Not sure. But I looked for the signs you told me about. If they’re accurate, I have good reasons for thinking your friend is still alive.” “That’s good. That’s good.” Horb looked into the distance. “I’d like to get a message to him.” “I can tell you where to find him.” He shook his head. “Too dangerous right now. Alone, we can escape notice, but together…”

“I understand.” “Could you carry a message for me?” His companion shifted slightly in his chair, then leant in. “It’s dangerous for me too, you know.” “I appreciate that. You understand what we’re fighting against though.” “Of course. I just don’t want to end up in a Spacefleet stockade. Or worse. But yes, I think I can help you.” “Thank you.” “What do you want me to tell him?” “I’m already late for my rendezvous, and I don’t know where I’ll be after that.” He thought for a second. “Tell him to meet me in Hephaestus.” The hooded man tilted his head questioningly. “There? That’s risky.” “No more risky than anything else I’m doing.” “We’re doing.” “It will be worth it, old friend,” Horb vowed. “I promise you that.” “I don’t think you can promise anything right now.” “It’s out of my hands. You know that.” “I do,” the man nodded. “It’s not like you to put someone else in control though. Do you trust them?” Horb gave a half smile. “With my life.” He was about to stand up and take his leave when he saw a tall figure in black duck underneath the awning and look around. He was accompanied by two Enforcers and, though he wore the same basic uniform, his head was uncovered, revealing a blunt-nosed face and a shaved scalp. His eyes were a cold, pale blue. Horb had already had the misfortune of meeting him once since he’d come to the Bastion. “Relax,” he said in a low voice to his companion. He reached into his jacket and took out a small

cloth bag, from which he produced an exquisite crystal. “We’re just traders.” The Enforcers moved around the dining area, looking over the other patrons, harassing one or two and sending them on their way. Horb saw how they were circling his table. “Who is that?” the other man asked. “Vexl. He’s the head of security on this level.” “He’s coming to speak to you.” “I know. Hand me some credits.” Wordlessly, his companion produced a handful of credit chips and ed them to Horb. “You owe me.” “This is the least of it,” Horb smiled, sliding the crystal towards him. “Get out of here.” “Will they follow me?” “Probably. But they won’t want to attract attention right now. They’ve been watching me since I arrived but haven’t made their move yet. No reason they’d do anything overt today.” “Things are changing fast in this region.” “I know that. Good luck.” “You too.” His friend stood and then left the table, walking at an even, unhurried pace. He ed out from underneath the awning and then melted into the crowd. No one watched him leave. After a few seconds, Vexl’s shadow loomed over his table and Horb looked up. “Something wrong, sir?” “Not yet,” Vexl said. His smile was as cold as his eyes. “Come with me.” “Why?” “Because I told you to.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” “So?” The Enforcers pointed their rifles at him and Horb held his hands up. “All right, no need for any trouble. I’m a licensed merchant. You know that.” “Then what are you selling?” “I’m sure you just saw.” Horb pulled the bag out of his jacket again and Vexl snatched it. He emptied the remaining crystals into his hands and peered at them. “Jovian diamonds,” Horb explained. “Forgeries, I’m sure. That’s enough to earn you a few months in the cells.” “They’re genuine.” “And where does a lowly space peddler like you get hold of Jovian diamonds, eh?” “I had a windfall,” Horb shrugged. “Stolen, most likely. Either way, the Castellan wants to ask you a few questions.” Horb lifted his eyebrows. The Castellan was the commander of the Bastion, a high-ranking member of the Cartel. “What does he want with me?” “You’ll find out.” He nodded curtly at the Enforcers. “Bring him.” He pocketed the bag of crystals himself. They took him up through the interior of the vast station, through corridors normally forbidden to his kind, up in cramped, dim elevators and finally into the very highest levels. If he’d imagined this part of the Bastion would be luxurious, he would have been wrong. It was clean, but starkly militaristic, with black walls lit by pale strip lights near the ceiling. They brought him through a heavy set of sliding doors into a wide office with windows along one wall offering a view of space outside. In the distance was the red streak of the Promethean Rift but, closer to hand, albeit still a light year or so away, was the monstrous glow from the Hades Cluster. Horb didn’t have much time to ire it though as he turned to see the stern-faced Castellan sitting behind his desk, fingers steepled before

him. “Welcome,” he said flatly. He was younger than Horb had expected, but had the same emotionless stare as Vexl. “Pleasure to meet you,” Horb said, limping forward and offering his hand. The Castellan regarded him coolly. “Let’s dispense with the games, shall we, Captain?” “Never said I was no captain, sir. I have a ship, but…” “Did you really think you could hide here? You have one of the most famous faces in the Quadrants.” Horb frowned. “Famous face? Can’t say anyone’s ever said that, but I suppose in all the trillions of folks in the galaxy, there’s only so many to go around.” “Enough. The game’s up, Captain Ajax.” He sighed. The Castellan was right. No point keeping up the charade now his cover was blow. He straightened and squared his shoulders, throwing off the defeated slump like it was an old coat he didn’t want anymore. He shifted his leg, losing the limp then tucked his thumbs into his belt and smiled slightly. “It’s just Robert Ajax, actually. I’m not captain anymore.” “I don’t care what you are,” the Castellan snapped. “Except a wanted criminal.” “Would you care to list the specific charges against me?” “Shut up. A Spacefleet cruiser is already en route to take you into custody. Until then, I’ve been given permission to detain you.” “I look forward to your hospitality.” “I’m sure you do,” the Castellan said with a gleam in his cruel eyes. “Vexl, take him to the cells on level one.” “With pleasure, sir.” Ajax tilted his head. “If you were hoping to scare me, you should know I’ve been in worse scrapes than this.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have, but I don’t give a damn if you’re scared or not. Get him out of my sight.” Ajax let himself be led away, but secretly he wondered how he was supposed to get out of a cell in the most fortified space station in the sector when everyone he trusted expected him in a system thirty light years away.

***

Tarq was running through the report on his interface as they walked from the main mess to The Sunskimmer’s bridge. “We’ve managed to patch up most of the breaches, but we need to remagnetise the entire hull or the ship’ll shake itself apart after a couple of tidal jumps.” Emily rubbed her forehead. “Right.” “And the Raiders did a lot of minor damage to systems that we just don’t have the replacement parts for.” “We can fly though, right?” “More or less. But if we get in a fight, I don’t fancy our chances. I’ve had to repurpose the shield generators to maintain hull integrity. One good volley from a battlecruiser would tear us to pieces.” “Great.” “So, really, we need to find somewhere we can do proper repairs.” Emily gave him a flat look. “Like a space station?” “Pretty much. A week in drydock, access to a decent shipyard and I’m confident The Sunskimmer will be better than new.” “But we don’t have that luxury, Tarq. There isn’t a friendly dock between here and Osiris and even then I wouldn’t be able to guarantee our safety.” “There must be a Waystation nearby.” “This is Wild Space,” Emily sighed. “Could you salvage anything from the wreckage of the Darkstar ship?”

“We’d have to go back to Hephaestus and I don’t think the ship could take another trip through the gravimetric shear.” “Then we’ll have to find something else.” “That shipyard in Parth looked promising.” Tarq mused. “We’re not going back there,” Emily said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Then, Captain, I can keep this ship in the air, but that’s about it. You want to be in fighting shape, to make lengthy jumps at light speed, you’re going to need to find a place to set down so I can make some real repairs.” Emily nodded and ran a hand through her hair. How long was it since she’d last showered? They’d left Hephaestus a few days ago. Over fifty of her crew were dead and many others injured. Tarq himself had one arm in a sling. She had no idea how he’d managed to fix as much as he had so far. Now they were at a loose end. They were supposed to meet her father there, according to his coded message, but he hadn’t shown up. She was scared for him. Dracon and what remained of his mighty battle fleet would pay dearly to get their hands on the legendary Captain Ajax and halt his rebellion before it had even started. She thanked Tarq and carried on her way to the bridge as he returned to the engineering control room further down the ship. As she entered the bridge, Jilly stood up from the captain’s chair. Emily took a second to look around. She’d received her XO’s report on the fight which had taken place here and it made her heart swell with pride to think of what Jilly and the others had done. They were spoiled nobles no more – now they’d seen the horror of warfare and emerged intact. More or less. The damage was still visible and Glo was still in the medical bay recovering from his injuries, but Halib was at her station as normal. Only Reeve was notable by her absence; she still hadn’t forgiven her for what happened on the Darkstar ship, Emily supposed. “What’s our status, Captain?” Jilly asked as she took her usual seat. “We can fly. That’s enough.” Kit turned around in his chair. “And where are we flying to?” Emily leant forward and thought about it. “We were supposed to meet my father

in Hephaestus. I know the ship he was in was a modified Alpaca-class cutter. Not much range on those things, is there?” “He sent you a message a few weeks ago,” Jilly reminded her. “Where was he then?” “On or near Jotun. Two sectors away.” “He can’t have jumped more than a few light years at a time in his ship. There are only so many routes he could have taken, only so many stable stars, right?” “Right,” Emily agreed and turned around. “Halib, can you crunch those numbers?” She puffed her cheeks out. “I think so…I mean, like you say, there’s only so many courses you can plot in this volume…” “I don’t need to know where he is, just where he might have been on his way to meet us. I think we have to assume he’s been waylaid somehow.” Halib nodded. “Okay, well, if he’s coming from Jotun, say, a fortnight ago, and he was supposed to be in Hephaestus the same time as us, he might have gone via Bellerophon and Talos. That’s the quickest route.” “Those are pretty empty systems, if I recall,” Emily said, rubbing her chin as she leant back in her chair. “Jilly?” Her XO gave it some thought. “I can’t imagine what might hold him up in any of those places. He’d be here now if he’d come that way.” “Is that the fastest route, Halib?” “According to the charts. Unless he went via the Hades Cluster, of course.” Emily’s eyes narrowed. The Hades Cluster was only a few dozen light years from Hephaestus, but it was a foolhardy course to set. “What’s near Hades?” “Only the Typhon Bastion.” “Typhon…” A nexus for trade across the entire sector, but a place just as

dangerous as the Hades Cluster, in its way. A man like Captain Ajax could have any number of reasons to go there, but it was a good place for his enemies to find him. The Cartel that controlled it might have no love of the Free Planets, but they’d see an opportunity if a wanted fugitive wound up in their hands. She’d heard enough stories about her father’s adventures to suspect the worst. “Kit… set a course for the Typhon system.”

***

Emily paused outside the door to the cabin, wondering if coming here was a good idea. It felt ridiculous to be scared to confront a woman whose life she’d saved, but she and Reeve hadn’t so much as exchanged a single word since she’d knocked her out and dragged her off the bridge of the disintegrating Darkstar ship. But now she needed her. And she was supposed to be Captain Ajax, damn it. This was her ship. She had no business being intimidated here. She hit the door chime and waited. Nothing happened. She hit it again, holding her finger on the holo for a little longer this time to extend the keening tone. Still nothing. “Reeve,” she called out, “you know I can override this if I want.” She made a frustrated noise and pressed the chime one more time before stepping back and holding out her wrist interface. “Override lock,” she snapped. There was a short delay while the computer ed her voice pattern and then the door slid open, revealing a darkened cabin within. Emily stepped inside and peered into the shadows. “Reeve?” “I’ve nothing to say to you.” Emily whirled to see Reeve standing behind her, leaning on the wall next to the door. The tall woman looked especially menacing in the darkness. The scars that drew the left side of her mouth up into a hideous rictus were especially disturbing as the light from the corridor outside threw her features into stark relief. Emily tried to smile disarmingly. “Not even thank you?” Reeve tilted her head. “Thank you for what?”

“For saving your life.” Reeve pressed the holo on the inside of the door and it slid shut, plunging them into darkness. They’d already gone to transluminal velocity around the nameless sun of this nowhere system so there was nothing to see outside the cabin’s narrow window. They were in a blackness as complete as the depths of space. Reeve had grown up in the Darkstar Nebula; she was used to this. Could she see in the dark? How long had humans lived in that nebula and had they adapted to the lack of light? On some worlds, people had spent so many generations in extreme environments that evolution had begun to change them. She’d never heard that was true of the inhabitants of the Darkstars, but stranger things had happened. “You believe in justice, don’t you, Emily?” “As much as anyone does, I suppose.” She fumbled her way across the small cabin until she found the only chair then carefully lowered herself into it. “Why?” “You saw what I did to Vahl.” Emily nodded. She couldn’t see Reeve at all, but from the direction of her voice she knew she was moving around the room. “It wasn’t pretty.” “You think it gave me any joy?” “I know what you were doing. I know you wanted to exorcise the ghosts of your past. Your father’s legacy.” Reeve let out a hollow laugh. It sounded even emptier in the dark. “Exorcise? My father would have been proud of me for doing that Emily. Kyle Blackheart, the monster who gave me these scars, he would have finally given me some respect. He would’ve congratulated me on a good kill and put me in command of that ship. I did things the Darkstar way, for once in my life.” “And for that, you think you deserved to die?” “Don’t you? What if Kit or Jilly had killed a man like that? What if they’d made someone scream like that? Would you still want them on your ship?”

“You’re not Kit or Jilly. I trust both of them with my lives, but they didn’t brave hard vacuum with me aboard that Kelvan battleship. They didn’t lead the fight against enemy boarding parties. I need them, but I also need you, for different things. You’re a harder woman than anyone on this ship, Reeve Blackheart, and this is a hard part of space. When you came on board, it was on the promise that you knew these stars, now I need that knowledge. I need you and your skills. Like it or not, you owe me.” “I should have killed you on Waystation Kappa.” “Maybe. But you didn’t. And now you’re here and alive. You could have walked to an airlock and killed yourself any time over the last few days, but you didn’t. So I have to believe, on some level, you still think you have a place here.” Emily heard the sound of Reeve sighing. “ when I said you were bred for command, Ajax?” She smiled in the darkness. “I learned from the best.” “Is that where we’re going now? To find your father?” “I hope so. I’m following a hunch. We’re going to the Typhon system.” There was a moment of silence. “Typhon?” “Do you know it?” “I’ve been there. To the Bastion I mean.” “That’s where we’re headed.” “Are you sure that’s wise?” “No. I don’t know a lot about it. Things change quickly in this region, relatively speaking. The records in the database are a little sketchy.” There was the sound of movement and then the small light above Reeve’s bunk came on. It was only a dim little lamp, but it made her blink anyway. Reeve leaned nonchalantly against the wall. “The Bastion is one of the oldest things in the sector, apart from the stars themselves.”

“They say it’s Cthonian…” “It might be. It’s a great, monolithic…thing…” Reeve motioned with her hands. “Like a pyramid. Black and glowering. It’s massive – large enough for an entire fleet to dock at its spires. People have lived in it for millennia. It’s a world unto itself and it’s been rebuilt a thousand times. The whole thing is studded with weapons batteries. You could weather an assault from any force in the Quadrants within it.” “It’s owned by a Cartel isn’t it?” Reeve nodded grimly. “Hydra Cartel. They’re a powerful force across three sectors.” “They have agents, even in Osiris,” Emily said. Hydra had a dire reputation as criminals and slavers. “Here, they’re the closest thing to a legitimate government. The Bastion is their fortress and one of the things that makes them a force to be reckoned with here. Emily, the Castellan of that space station wouldn’t hesitate to hand you over to Dracon. We’re not talking about some backwater Waystation or a planetside dictator here – you can’t threaten to bombard them from orbit. If the Bastion’s weapons are turned on The Sunskimmer, we’ll be vaporised in seconds.” “I think my father might be there.” “If he’s being held prisoner, you’ll need the entire Spacefleet to break him out.” Emily shook her head. “He’s too canny to be taken prisoner. If he’s not there, I think he might have been through there. We have to go and find out.” “You’re the captain. If that’s your decision, that’s where we go.” “I know. But I need you by my side, Reeve.” The Darkstar woman looked at her. Her dark eyes would have been beautiful on almost any other woman, but looking out from the scarred face of this merciless warrior, they were something else entirely. “You saved my life, Emily. And I still want to meet your father.”

“I know. It’s going to be dangerous.” “You’re not the woman you were. You fought the Darkstar Raiders and survived.” “And you fight them every single day.” She tapped her chest. “In here, right?” Reeve gave her a flicker of a smile. “Legacy, Captain Ajax. We’re all dealing with it.” Emily stood up. “I’ll let you know when we get to Typhon.” “Thanks.” As Emily walked ed her, she turned slightly. “And Emily?” She stopped at the door. “Yes?” “You really need a shower. No offence.” Emily looked down at herself and smiled slightly. “None taken.” She left Reeve to the shadows of her cabin.

FOURTEEN

With a flash of blue-white light, The Sunskimmer burst from the dim corona of Typhon. It was a small, cool red dwarf, a dim ember in the night, what little light it threw out swallowed up by the spectacular display a light year hence. From the vantage of the sensor-generated image on the bridge’s holoscreen, the Hades Cluster was just irregular shards of light, but the spectral blue dust clouds surrounding it were rendered in gorgeous detail. The intense gravity of the Cluster sent them spinning out for light years as, at the heart of that bright, indistinct blur, was an array of six neutron stars, inexplicably locked in a complex but stable orbit around a common centre. The centre was impenetrable by any normal means, and no one knew the origin of the phenomenon. All mainstream theories on stellar evolution agreed so many neutron stars could never form in close proximity and, if they did, they’d soon tear each other apart. But the Hades Cluster was arranged in the one possible stable configuration – defying odds of perhaps trillions to one. Emily leant on the arm of the captain’s chair as she watched it on the screen with a frown. Typhon itself actually orbited the Cluster, albeit it at a great distance. In fact, its gravity was so powerful that every celestial object in the region was affected by it in some way. It was so dense it created a chasm in the fabric of space-time. “There’s the Bastion,” Reeve said. She’d taken over Glo’s console while he recovered. Emily peered at the screen. She could barely make anything out against the black of space. They were close to the edge of the galaxy, where the stars grew thinly spread across the void and what few were visible were eclipsed by the light of the Hades Cluster and, glowering ominously behind it, the Promethean Rift. After a second though, she made something out, moving in front of a ghostly wisp of glimmering dust. A black shape, like a tall, flattened pyramid. It looked small from here, but she knew it was massive. “It doesn’t look like much,” she said. “Don’t rely on the visuals,” Halib said, tapping at her console. “It’s hundreds of

times larger than us. The power signature coming off it is colossal.” “There are hundreds of thousands of people on that station,” Reeve told them. “It’s more like a city.” Emily shook her head in wonder. “Even in the Core systems of the Free Planets, there’s no orbital installation that large. How do they power it?” “You’d need to ask the Hydra Cartel that,” Reeve shrugged. “Or the Cthonians,” Jilly said. “They built it, right?” Emily ran a finger across the line of her jaw. “Hm…so they say. It certainly looks old.” As they came closer and the sensors were able to resolve a better image and filter out the ambient radiation in the system, details of the Bastion became clearer. It was a blank, monolithic edifice, a vast, slowly-rotating fortress. There didn’t seem to be any weapons, but as Emily looked closer she realised it was just a consequence of the immense scale of the structure – what she’d mistaken for surface features like magna studs and hull plates, or micrometeor fractures, were serried ranks of ion cannons and antiphoton lances. Her heart began to beat faster as she realised the small specks she could see moving to or from the Bastion were actually ships at least as large as The Sunskimmer. They looked like mosquitos. She was looking at enough firepower to collapse a star. “They could conquer the galaxy with a station like that,” she said. Reeve laughed shortly. “Sure, if they could shift it out of orbit. As it is, it’s stuck here at the end of the universe, where it can’t do any harm.” Something made Emily’s skin prickle as Reeve spoke. There was a tension in the atmosphere, a strange feeling of portent. The Promethean Rift and the Hades Cluster were nightmares from children’s stories: powerful, barely-understood phenomena on the fringes of known space, far from civilisation. She may have grown up in the shadow of the Darkstar Nebula, but this was different. This was the stars laid bare, the terrible power of the cosmos unleashed in all its casual indifference to human life. Like most spacefarers, Emily sometimes wondered how they had come to live like this, spread across the galaxy in such an ostensibly hostile environment. In some ways, it was like they didn’t really belong out here and she knew that in some deep, ancient part of her mind. “What’s the plan, Captain?” Jilly asked her.

“Plan?” She’d been thinking about this in the few hours it had taken them to arrive, but hadn’t come up with anything particularly clever. “We stay cloaked,” she said as she leant forward. “I don’t want anyone on that Bastion knowing The Sunskimmer is nearby. We’ll take a shuttle over there and pose as merchants. I just want to look around, see if I can find any sign of my father.” “We have to drop the cloak to open the launch bay,” Jilly reminded her. The Meccite cloaking device was as little understood as the cosmology of this region, but they knew its limits. While it was raised, a bubble of exotic matter bent certain radiation types around their hull, rendering them invisible to both sensors and the human eye, but anything that disrupted the bubble’s cohesion – a weapon being fired or launching a shuttle, for example – would collapse it and reveal them immediately. “Bring us close to Typhon’s corona, Kit,” Emily said. “That’ll disrupt their sensors. Unless they’re pointing their scanners right at us, they’ll never see us. Cloak again as soon as we’re away.” “It’s a long trip to that station in a shuttle,” Reeve said. “I know. You might want to bring an interface with some games loaded.” Reeve looked at her in surprise. “You’re bringing me?” “Right. You’ve been there before. You know your way around.” “I wasn’t there for that long.” “Longer than anyone else on this boat.” “She has a point though, Captain,” Jilly said. “You’re going to be a long way away if you get into any trouble. We could follow you in under cloak.” “Get too close and they’ll pick up your power signature, if they have reason to suspect you’re out there anyway. No, stay in orbit of the star. Give us two days, then you have my permission to start doing foolish things.” She held up her wrist. “Besides, I’m only a neutrino signal away.” “I hope you have a good cover story, Emily,” Reeve said as she stepped around the terminal and headed for the door.

“I was going to improvise,” she smiled as she stood up and Jilly took her place in command. “That’s how my father always did things.” “Well, let’s hope he’s had better luck with that than we’ve been having recently.”

***

Ajax leant through the bars of his cell’s door and checked both ways down the dingy corridor for signs of the Enforcer who marched back and forth at regular intervals, keeping watch on the prisoners. There were a dozen better ways to keep people captive – ways to prevent them talking to one another, crueller methods of imprisonment, more complete tortures to inflict – but the Hydra Cartel hadn’t built this station and they were limited by the ancient architecture. The Cthonians had seemingly favoured small cubicles built into the bowels of their installations, with vibrating plasma conduits running along the walls and ceilings that were hot to the touch. The air was therefore sweltering and the condensation made the whole place unpleasantly humid. There was a steady drip-drip from every scalding pipe that became maddening after a couple of hours. The cells were dark, cramped and grimy, but only narrow, barred doors separated them from the corridor running down the centre of the facility. There were two rows of cells facing one another, each containing a prisoner as far as Ajax had been able to ascertain. The corridor curved slightly and he couldn’t see a door at either end. He suspected that it may form a single enormous loop around the inside edge of the Bastion. He couldn’t guess at the number of people being held here, but it could well be many hundreds. “Hey,” he whispered across the corridor. It was quite narrow, just a couple of meters, and he could see the man held across from him. He was a ragged emaciated figure. “Hey!” The man shuffled to his own door and looked up and down the corridor as Ajax had. “If they hear us talking, they’ll beat us,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I doubt they need that excuse. How long have you been here?” The man seemed to give it some thought. “A long time.” “Have they charged you with anything?”

He smiled, showing a mouthful of rotting teeth. “You don’t know Hydra Cartel very well, do you?” “I’ve known people like them. Where are you from?” “Parth Majoris.” “I’ve never been. Is it nice?” “It’s hell. But better than here.” “Why did they lock you up?” “I’m a dissident.” Ajax frowned. “Against the Cartel?” “Against the rulers of my planet. But the Cartel took me while I was travelling to a neighbouring system to meet with a weapon supplier.” “What did it have to do with them?” “You’d have to ask them.” He pointed down the corridor to other cells. “Their stories are the same. They’re all rebels or troublemakers. Smugglers or bounty hunters who defied local authorities on their worlds. The Cartel rounded us all up and imprisoned us, like they’re trying to sweep the sector clean of any undesirable elements.” Ajax fingered his moustache thoughtfully. “Interesting. What happens to us?” “Sometimes they put us to work.” “Where?” “On the upper levels. They’re building more cells. Better than these ones. Modern facilities for detaining thousands of prisoners. Or slaves.” “What’s going on here?” “Don’t ask me, but the Cartel is doing a lot of work. Something’s happening in this region. Nothing’s changed in centuries and now all this. I’ve heard some

rumours from the other prisoners, people captured for knowing too much.” Ajax leant in as close as he could. “What kind of rumours?” “Stories about a shipyard, larger than any in the Quadrants.” “Where?” “Here. Once the new facilities are filled with whatever unfortunates they round up from the systems under their control. Shipyards built by slave labour, large enough to provide berths for a million warships.” Ajax’s eyes went wide. “A million warships? What are Hydra going to do with those?” The other prisoner shrugged. In the dim light, Ajax could make out the scars and bruises on his thin arms. “My name’s Cap…uh…Robert. Just Robert. How about you?” “Cal.” “Nice to meet you, Cal. Listen, I’m going to get us out of here and…” He was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots on the grilled floor and turned to see the looming shape of a masked Enforcer. An armoured fist slammed against the bars and Ajax jumped back. He held his hands up defensively. “Sorry, just getting to know the neighbours.” “No talking,” the Enforcer said. His voice was filtered through an amplifier on his helmet so it sounded hollow and robotic. Combined with the reflective visor in which Ajax could see his own distorted face it made from a chilling, inhuman presence. “You’re a valuable prisoner,” the Enforcer went on, “and we’ve been told to leave your skin in one piece. You’re lucky. But accidents happen.” “I’ll bear that in mind.” The Enforcer stepped away and turned to look at Cal, who’d shrunk back into the shadows of his cell. Another Enforcer stood close by. “Bring him,” the first one said curtly.

“Wait,” Ajax said, stepping back to his cell door. “He was talking to me. Don’t punish him for that. I was the one asking the questions.” “Didn’t I make myself clear a second ago?” the Enforcer asked, turning to him. He held up a short baton that crackled with electrical energy as he waved it towards Ajax. “Skin intact. Those were my orders. They didn’t say anything about the inside of you.” Cal was dragged out of his cell by the other Enforcer, not because he resisted but because he barely had the strength to walk under his own power. Ajax stepped back and watched him. He met the other man’s eyes and tried to make himself understood. Cal looked at him and nodded very slightly. The first Enforcer remained at Ajax’s cell for a second, looked him over one more time and then followed his colleague and Cal down the corridor. Ajax watched them leave, then rested his head glumly against the bars. What was happening in this place and, more importantly, how was he supposed to stop it?

***

“The security wasn’t this tight last time,” Reeve said as they ed the crowd that was packed into an atrium outside the airlock of the Bastion’s main docking spire. It was on one of the lower levels and the atmosphere was thick and poorlyfiltered. The lights were a dim, dirty yellow and Emily felt they stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the shambling mass of people. They looked like refugees from dozens of worlds, all hunched and dressed in shabby clothing. Narrow faces with large white eyes peered out from underneath ragged hoods and dirty, skinny children clung silently to the legs of their parents. “I guess things have changed.” Emily looked around, bewildered. “Where are all these people from?” “Some look like Parthians.” Emily had noticed that too. That explained some of it. Many like this would have

had good reasons to flee Parth. But why come here? “Excuse me,” she asked a short woman who was alone and looked relatively prosperous. “Why’s it so busy? We were here a little while ago and it wasn’t nearly so crowded.” The woman bared crooked teeth at her. “You musta been gone a while, sister. People come lookin’ for work. Cartel’s drivin’ everyone else outta business.” Emily exchanged a look with Reeve as the woman disappeared back into the crowds. “What do you make of that?” “Hydra is powerful, but Cartels generally keep the systems under their control prosperous. Why would they strangle the life out of them and bring everyone here? People work best on their own worlds.” “And what work could there be on a space station that the staff they already have can’t do? There’s no mining operation in Typhon, no gas harvesting, no resources to exploit at all. It makes no sense.” There was a shout behind them and the crowd began to part as a column of Enforcers marched through. They were in two rows and between them shuffled another line of people. It was hard to see them through the ranks of armoured men and women, but Emily could hear the clink of chains and see their bowed, defeated stances. “Prisoners,” Emily whispered to Reeve. “Or slaves.” Emily flinched. Slavery was illegal in the Free Planets, and most Cartels in her part of the Quadrants considered it bad for business, especially when monotasked clones were so much more efficient, but out here things were a little different. There were a lot of them too. The grim column took several minutes to by before disappearing into the depths of the Bastion. Up ahead was a security checkpoint manned by more Enforcers – these ones not so heavily armoured – with helmets open at the front to reveal their bored, indifferent faces. They were checking people through the creaking doors that led to the interior of the station, waving them through or sending them to a holding area marked off with a high chain-link fence erected across the atrium, overseen by Enforcers with fusion rifles. “I don’t like this,” Reeve said.

“They’ve got no reason to detain us.” “They’ve also got no reason to let us through.” After half an hour, it was their turn at the checkpoint and a tired-looking woman with the Hydra symbol on her black uniform looked them over without interest. She had a basic interface in her hand and held it out to them. “Thumbprint,” she said. “Why?” Emily asked her. “To your identity.” “We’ve never been here before. We won’t be in your database.” “Which we’ll confirm when you give us your print.” Emily looked down at the interface. “I’m not really comfortable handing over my print to your Cartel. I’m an independent trader. I’m here to do some business, not settle down. I’ll be gone in a day.” “You want to trade, we need your print.” “Fine,” Emily pressed her thumb on the interface and locked eyes with the Enforcer as it ed. She examined the readout. “Name?” “So I wasn’t in your database?” “Name, please.” “Emily.” “Just Emily?” “Just Emily.” It wasn’t unusual. Not every world had a tradition of using family names. “Planet of origin?”

“Aesir.” It was the first place that popped into her head. “Reason for visiting the Typhon Bastion?” She rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I’m a merchant.” “And what are you selling?” “Various things.” The woman looked up from her interface. “Such as?” “Do you need my entire inventory?” “Just a general idea. Food, weapons, starship parts?” “Miscellanea.” Emily was getting frustrated with this now. “Look, what’s the problem? There are thousands of people on this station. You can’t expect them all to provide you with this kind of information.” “What ship did you come on?” “The shuttle docked out there.” She pointed back towards the airlock. The woman glanced in the direction she was pointing and frowned slightly. She consulted her interface. “The one at dock 342-Q?” “Yeah.” “You came from Aesir in that shuttle?” “Emily,” Reeve said quietly. “Well, no, not the whole way. It doesn’t even have a tidal drive…” “No, it doesn’t. So where’s your actual ship?” “It’s…uh…” Two Enforcers, these ones in full armour, with the rifles, loomed over them and Emily looked from one faceless helmet to the other.

“Any ideas?” Reeve asked. “Nope.”

***

Emily peered out through the bars of the cell door into the curving corridor. A silent Enforcer marched past and her eyes followed him. She sighed and turned around. Reeve was sitting on the narrow bench that ran across the back wall. There wasn’t really room for two in the small cell – either they were running out of room down here, or they were trying to make a point. “ when I came on board, at Waystation Kappa?” Reeve asked conversationally. “Yes.” “And I said how I was looking for adventure and that travelling with the daughter of Captain Ajax seemed a good way to find it?” Emily sighed and folded her arms. “Sure.” “Well, this is the second time in about a month that I’ve been locked in a prison cell. I wanted to see the galaxy, not go on a tour of the Quadrants’ most unpleasant jails.” “I thought the adventure story was just a cover?” “It was. But I think you get my point.” “Uh huh.” Emily turned back to the corridor and sank down to a crouch. They’d taken her drone ring and the bracelet which turned into a miniaturised fusion pistol. She looked down resentfully at the little nub affixed to her forearm too. That was the reason the interface implanted into her wrist was dark. It felt strange not to have it there instantly. “Where did Hydra Cartel get an inhibitor

chip like this? They’re expensive, especially out here.” “There’s something big going on in this station,” Reeve said, standing up and walking over to Emily. “Slave labour, transients looking for work, they’re building something.” “Like what? And why? They don’t need the money; they charge docking fees, they tax all transactions, they rent their living quarters out. There are a million better ways to turn a profit.” “Who knows?” Emily bowed her head and tried to think. The inhibitor chip gave her a permanent headache, but it was also hot and stuffy down here in the depths of this horrible Bastion. And it was noisy too. The other cells were packed with other prisoners and there was a low level murmur of misery and pain throughout the facility. Then there was the drip of moisture from the plasma pipes, incessant and inescapable and, to top it all off, a relentless, annoying tapping from a couple of cells down, like someone was banging against the bars. Probably one of the prisoners that had been beaten into insanity. How long until she ed them? “We need to figure out some sort of escape plan,” Reeve said. “I know. I’m working on it,” she rubbed her head. The tapping seemed to be getting louder. It was irregular, almost random. “Just wish I could think straight.” Reeve nodded. “I think they’re using the prisoners as slave labour. That means they’ll open this door eventually.” “And then what? We jump them? We’re unarmed.” “I can take at least one of them out before they bring me down.” Emily eyeballed her. “I don’t doubt it. But what then?” The tapping was really getting on her nerves now. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…tap-tap-tap-tap….taaap-tap-taptap-tap-tap…tap-tap-tap-tap… The rhythm continued like that, over and over. Senseless noise. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…tap-tap-tap-tap….taaap-tap-tap-tap-taptap…tap-tap-tap-tap…

“I wish that guy would shut up,” Reeve snarled. “Me too.” Emily frowned as she listened though. It almost sounded like a tune. She listened again, picking up the rhythm and then sounding it out in her head. It was a song. And it was one she thought she knew. “Do you hear that?” “Yeah I fucking hear it! I just said, didn’t I?” “No, listen. That’s a song. Do you recognise it?” “I don’t know many songs.” Emily whispered to herself. “Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…doo-doo-doo-doo….dooodoo-doo-doo-doo-doo…doo-doo-doo-doo…” “Emily?” She shushed her friend. “Hold on…I know that song…” She murmured along with the tapping again. It was something from her childhood, more than twohundred-years ago. Just a ghost of a memory, something she barely ed. But it was there. “Doo-doo-doo-baby…doo-doo-a-word…” She snapped her fingers and then sang, lightly. “Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.” “What?” “That song! It’s a lullaby! My father used to sing it to me. ‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…uh…” She tapped on the bars as she sang. “‘And if that mockingbird don’t sing, daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring’.” She looked up at Reeve. “You never heard that?” “My father didn’t sing to me.” She held her hand up to herself. ”He just burned half my face off.” Emily stood up. “My father learnt that song from his mother, back when he was a kid. It was from his home system. He said he’d never heard it anywhere else.” She tried to crane her neck so she could see around the corridor to where the tapping was coming from. There was a pale hand at the bars, about three doors down. She tapped out a few bars of the song and the hand paused and then waved at her. Emily stepped back. “Reeve.”

“What?” “I think my father’s here.” “Where?” “A few cells down?” “Then he might as well be on the other side of the galaxy.” Emily looked around the cell. The door was magna-locked and the room was otherwise completely sealed. The only features were the bench and a basic latrine built into the wall. That and the collection of plasma conduits running across the back wall, near the ceiling. They were about two-thirds of a metre in circumference and dripping with condensation. There was a maintenance on the outside of one, large enough for an engineer to crawl into, although she doubted anyone had done so in a long, long time. “Reeve, do you think we could crawl through that?” Reeve followed her gaze up to the conduits. “I don’t know about you, Ajax, but I’ve had enough encounters with super-heated plasma to last me a lifetime.” “It won’t be shunting plasma through constantly – we’d be roasted alive in here.” She walked to the back of the cell and climbed up onto the bench. Gingerly, she placed a hand on the pipe and then snatched it away. “See?” “It’s hot but not scalding.” She spat on her hand and rubbed it into her palm, then put it back. It made her wince, but after a few seconds she found she could bear it. “No plasma.” “Not right now. But how long until it fills up again?” “I don’t know. You got any other ideas?” Reeve sighed. “This is a terrible plan.” She climbed up beside Emily and dug her fingers under the edge of the access hatch. She gritted her teeth and pulled. “You’re just going to rip it off?”

“You got any other ideas?” she parroted back. She strained and then, with a yell, tore the off and flung it to the floor where it clanged noisily. Emily looked over her shoulder, but no Enforcer appeared at the door. As she turned back, she was met by a gust of warm, foetid air and the characteristic reek of unfiltered plasma. The inside of the conduit was scorched black through centuries of carrying super-charged fluid. “You first,” Reeve said, gesturing. Emily put her head through the and looked around inside. Would she see a burst of green fire coming towards her? “All right. Can you give me a hand?” Reeve sighed again and grabbed her none-too-gently, shoving her through the open hatch. Emily yelped and then clambered fully inside. It was very warm inside and she shuffled a little further on her hands on knees. It was a tight fit, but she thought she could make it. “Everything okay?” Reeve asked, poking her head through the hatch. “Yeah. I’ll try to be back soon.” Her voice was muffled in the cramped conduit. “No way, I’m not staying in this cell on my own.” “Why not?” “Because they’ll shoot me when they figure out where you’ve gone.” “All right then. Do you need my help to climb in…oh.” Reeve had effortlessly pulled herself through the narrow gap and was crawling into position right behind her. The other woman was larger, but didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. “Can we maybe get a move on, Emily?” “Right, yeah.” She crawled forward. The inside of the conduit was slick with plasma residue. It didn’t burn, but could be corrosive if she didn’t clean it off soon. After a short while, they left the feeble light from the open hatch behind and were shuffling forwards in darkness. Emily didn’t know how far they had to go. She tried to picture in her head how far they’d gone, how wide the cells were, where she’d seen the other hand at the bars, but it was easy to lose track in the cloying air of the pipe. “Emily?”

“What?” “You feel that?” She stopped and frowned into the darkness. As she placed her hands against the hot metal of the conduit, wincing again, she felt it – a distant rumble. She glanced back, but the large shadow that was Reeve blocked anything out and, besides, the pipe curved to follow the corridor so they’d never see anything coming. A wave of heat washed over her and she choked down a cough. Plasma. Lifeblood of any ship or space station, but death to any biological organism. She started crawling forward again, running a hand along inside of the conduit, trying to find another – any . As she felt the heat grow behind her, she started crawling faster and faster, and now she was just tapping on the conduit as she ran her knuckles down it. She was breathing so hard and crawling so fast that she didn’t even notice the answering tap from up ahead. Tap-tap-taptap-tap…tap-tap-tap-tap….taaap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap… “Emily.” Emily turned, and now she could definitely see a faint glow from further down. “I think…” She tapped out the same rhythm as she inched forward. The answer grew louder, more insistent, just a metre or two ahead. “Move Reeve! Quickly!” “I know that!” The tapping was dead ahead now and her fingers closed on the interior of another hatch. Desperately, she threw herself against the . “Damn!” There was a muffled answer from outside and she could hear someone scrabbling at the hatch. “Out of the way,” Reeve growled, shoving Emily further up the conduit. She tumbled over and stared down the pipe where a swirling firestorm was rushing towards them faster than she could have imagined possible. It illuminated Reeve’s scarred face as she drove her fist into the with a roar, leaving it visibly dented. She struck again, heedless of her bleeding knuckles and backed up slightly so she could brace her back against the tight inside curve of the conduit and slammed the heel of her boot into it. It gave way and clattered to the ground. There was a cry from below. Reeve grabbed a handful of Emily’s jacket and hauled her towards the hole. Emily yelped as she was forced through and

tumbled out into another cell. She rolled onto her back and could only stare up as Reeve leapt from the conduit just ahead of a wall of green fire. She landed in a roll and bounded right up to her feet, bloody fists raised towards the other occupant of the now very crowded cell. “Emily?” a familiar voice asked. Emily climbed onto her knees and smiled as she looked into the eyes of her father. “Hi, Dad.” He stared at her and then at her companion. “Who is…?” “Reeve Blackheart. I believe you knew my father?” Ajax paled. “Bloody hell.” “Dad, Reeve. Reeve. Dad.” She slumped down and tried to get her breath back as the awkward silence stretched.

FIFTEEN

Emily’s father ran a hand down his curving moustache the way he always did as he looked Reeve over. “Blackheart, huh?” “That’s right.” More musing. She knew he was trying to think of what to say. He had a reputation for always having a clever retort to hand, never being wrong-footed in any situation; be it a raging space battle or an ambassador’s banquet and she knew perfectly well that this was at least partially thanks to delaying tactics like this. He might sit there with a knowing twinkle in his eye, or eyeball you across the bridge like you’d just suggested the most ridiculous thing in the galaxy, or – like now – play with his moustache trying to look contemplative, like he knew something you didn’t and was trying to decide whether to tell you or not. Anything to keep himself in control of a situation. But it could have been his age, the close confines of the cell or just Reeve being Reeve, but in any case she wasn’t buying it. Finally, he seemed to reach some sort of decision, dropped his hands helplessly to his sides and said, “Well, I’m sorry. For everything. I want you to know that.” That seemed to take Reeve back. “You’re sorry?” “It’s my fault. Your whole life is my fault, right? I assume Emily told you that. Somehow I don’t think she’d be locked in a prison cell with someone she didn’t trust. She’s her father’s daughter.” Emily couldn’t help beaming at that. When everyone else kept saying it, it got on her nerves, but from him it was a glittering compliment. No one was a bigger Captain Ajax fan than Captain Ajax. “I don’t blame you,” Reeve itted. “But I spent my whole life in your shadow, just like your girl here. I’m just one of the human consequences of your actions.”

“Human consequences,” Ajax said softly. “A lot of people died because of me. And you’ve got a right to be angry about that, and everything else. I’m guessing your father did that to your face? Yeah, we never could control that bastard. We made him a monster.” “And he was,” Reeve said. “You’ve got a right to want revenge. I understand. And a time’s coming when I’ll atone for what I’ve done, believe that, but this isn’t it.” “Right,” Emily agreed. “How did you know I was down there, dad?” She pointed in the direction of their now-empty cell. “I heard your voice. Stroke of luck, huh?” “I guess so.” She stepped past him and peered out between the bars of his door. The view was no different than from her own cell. “They don’t know who I am. They only dragged us down here because we didn’t have a proper explanation for how we got to the station.” “They’ll take any excuse, it looks like. There’s hundreds of prisoners down here, and they’re making room for lots more. Maybe thousands.” “We saw slaves being brought here,” Reeve said. Ajax winced. “And I’m hearing rumours of a shipyard being constructed. Talk of a million vessels. But what would the Hydra Cartel want with a military force that size?” Emily thought about it as she stared down the corridor. What were they going to do when the guards came back? She hadn’t really thought about why they’d broken into another prison cell, just that if she was going to be stuck in prison with anyone, it ought to be her father, who’d gotten himself out of scrapes a lot tougher than these. “Not Hydra,” she said without turning around. “Emily?” Reeve said. “Spacefleet, Dracon.” She turned. “I’d stake my life on it.” “He already has a huge fleet though,” Ajax said, shaking his head.

“Not any more. I destroyed half of it at Babylon.” He smiled. “Good girl.” “I bet he’s been planning this for years though. With a million ships, he could expand the Free Planets as far as he likes. He could smash the galaxy to pieces. We just forced his hand.” “Why here though?” Ajax wondered. “I don’t know. But a shipyard that huge takes massive resources to construct and maintain, not just in physical labour. You couldn’t even do it on Lumina with clone workers. Not without co-opting the industry of the entire planet – even Dracon doesn’t have that sort of power yet.” “Out here, he can do what he likes,” Reeve said. “But still…the power required…” “We’re not going to figure it out from inside this cell,” Ajax announced suddenly, looking from one woman to the other. “You didn’t break in just to the time. What’s the plan?” “I was hoping you had one,” Emily smiled. Ajax laughed shortly. He held out a hand to the door. “Magna locked. Even the three of us together couldn’t wrench it free. Now, if I had some piece of technology I could repurpose, like an interface, even a basic model, we might get somewhere. I don’t suppose either of you managed to smuggle one in, did you?” “Only the one I have built in,” Emily said, holding up her blank wrist port. “But they chipped me.” “Hm…” He was stroking his moustache again. “Nasty piece of tech, that.” “Don’t I know it?” “If you try to rip it off your skin, it’ll give you a bad shock. You might even get your entire arm ripped off.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” “On the other hand, if we ease it off, the only real problem is the .” “?” “Kind of like a nasty migraine. You couldn’t take it off yourself without puking up your guts. Your body’d fight you every step of the way.” Emily made a face. “No thanks.” “Yeah, thing is, I’m not sure we have any other choice.” He looked at Reeve. She was an inch or two taller than him, and he was a big man. “You look pretty strong.” “I am.” “Think you’re up to holding her down while I get us out of this mess?” “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Emily held up her hands. “Whoa, hold up, there’s must be some other way we can…” Reeve advanced on her and her father – her own father! – could only shrug apologetically as he grabbed her wrist and started to jimmy at the thing despite her protests. When it was over, Emily got shakily to her feet and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “Thanks for that,” she said hoarsely. “Sorry, dear,” Ajax said, and looked genuinely contrite as he threw the inhibitor chip into the corner where it smashed into several pieces. Emily rubbed the sore spot on her arm where it had been attached to her flesh and then felt the warm pulse in her brain stem as her wetware came back online. She willed the interface to boot up and felt an odd sense of relief to see the little port flicker back to life. Losing it had been like losing an arm. “Looks like we’re back in business anyway.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to recover a little dignity. “What’s your plan?” “I need you to reverse your transmitter radius.”

“Why would I do that?” “I need an EM pulse to short out that magna-lock.” Emily sighed and brought up the floating holo-controls. They were bright in the dim cell and she quickly reconfigured the device as he asked. “This seems pretty simple.” “Wouldn’t work with a commercial interface. A basic model I’d be able to crack easily, just by smashing through the casing and rewiring the circuitry. One of those sleek modern ones’d actually fight back – probably send a neutrino alert to the manufactures telling them what I was doing – but since yours is wetware you obviously have complete control.” “Yeah, well, it is built into my arm.” “You nobles,” Ajax chuckled. “Your mother’s always freaked me out too. Can’t get my head around humans having bits of machines inside them.” “You’re just backward, oort miner.” “Can we maybe get a move on?” Reeve interrupted. “An Enforcer could walk by any second.” “Right.” Ajax took Emily’s wrist in his hand and worked the holo-display himself for a moment, tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth as he concentrated. Finally, he pulled her slightly towards the door and pointed her hand at the magna-lock’s mechanism. He set her interface to continually transmit a rotating frequency pulse and they watched as the magnetic field around the door’s frame began to flicker and ripple under pressure from the perpendicular waves disrupting its cohesion. It took less than half a minute for the lock to short out and, with an ominously loud clank, the door swung open a few centimetres. “Ta-da!” Ajax said triumphantly. “Yeah, it was my interface.” Emily clenched her fist, the holo-display zipped back into the port and she shook her hand. It had been an odd feeling doing that and she was already pretty fragile after her rough handling from her supposed allies. “What’s your plan, Captain?” Reeve asked as she stepped up behind them.

“I was thinking we could…” Emily started to say, just as her father said, “The best course of action seems to be…” They stopped and looked at one another sheepishly. “I meant Emily,” Reeve clarified. “Sorry.” “Well, she is the captain now.” Ajax nodded to her. “Your plan?” “Something’s rotten on this Bastion. Dracon is planning to build his fleet here and we have to stop that, and free all these captives.” She looked down the corridor at the other prisoners, many of whom were now at the doors of their cells, staring at them. Most of them looked thin and terrified. “Agreed,” Ajax said. “But I think our priority is getting back to The Sunskimmer.” “The Sunskimmer can’t fight this station,” Reeve pointed out. “True.” “Look, we’re here now,” Emily said, “can’t we sabotage the Bastion from the inside? We could disable the computer core or something, shut down the power.” Ajax chuckled mirthlessly. “Don’t you understand how big this station is? All its power circuits are discrete. You might be able to shut down a single section, but that’s it. There are a dozen computer cores.” “There must be some vulnerability we can exploit?” “Let me think about it. For now, we need to get out of this prison complex.” “We’re not going to get far without weapons,” Reeve said. “Could we get to a weapons locker and…” Emily’s thought was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots approaching from around the gentle curve of the corridor. The three of them exchanged a glance and wordlessly stepped back into the cell. Emily pulled the door shut behind them. The Enforcer appeared a moment later, glancing from cell to cell, checking the occupants were where they should be. When he reached the one Emily and

Reeve had been in until very recently, he paused. It looked like he was trying to whether there should be anyone in it. He pulled out an interface and they could hear him conferring with a colleague. “Hey, Jath, didn’t we put those two women in cell 3912? Yeah? Well, there’s no one there now.” He paused. “How should I know? Wait…there’s a on the floor.” He terminated the communication and pressed his interface against the door’s seal to unlock it. It opened, just as the door to the one they were now hiding in had, and the guard threw it open and stepped inside. Emily didn’t need to wait for another opportunity. She led her father and Reeve out into the corridor and they waited as the Enforcer backed out, having finished his sweep of the tiny room, aiming his fusion rifle ahead of him as if they might have been about to jump out of the walls. Her father was about to creep forward and jump the masked man from behind, but Reeve pushed past. The Enforcer turned at the last possible moment and let out a strangled cry as Reeve wrapped an arm around his throat and, with the merest shift of her shoulders, caused him to drop lifelessly to his knees and then fall face-first to the floor. Ajax winced. “I was just going to knock him out.” “You really want to leave a witness? I thought you were a privateer.” “He didn’t do anything wrong.” “Tell that to these prisoners.” Ajax followed her gaze. None of the nearby captives had so much as shouted a warning. He nodded grimly. “Slavers.” “They don’t deserve your mercy.” Reeve liberated the gun from the Enforcer. “This’ll come in handy.” “That’s one of the old mercury-8s,” he observed. “Nice little shooter, but the best thing about it is you can swap out the energy filter and by the safety shunt. Gives you a more powerful blast with a bigger burst radius and a higher rate of fire, although it makes the blowback pretty fierce. It’s pretty tricky to do though if you don’t know how. We used to do it back in the old days, called it…” “Hotboxing,” Reeve interrupted. “I know.” She held his gaze as her long fingers worked nimbly on the fusion rifle without even looking at what she was doing,

making the required modifications. “Right,” Ajax said, “sorry.” Emily smiled slightly. “We could do with a couple more of those maybe.” “No problem.” Reeve stood up and fired at a second Enforcer just coming into view that Emily hadn’t even noticed. The roar from the rifle was like a ship’s thruster firing next to her and the burst of flame seemed to fill the whole corridor. All that was left of the guard was a charred ruin but his weapon, which was of course designed to survive that kind of heat, remained more or less intact. “She’s ruthless,” Ajax said as they jogged towards the smoking corpse. “You should have seen her when we got boarded.” He grabbed her arm. “Boarded?” His stare was intent. “Darkstar Raiders. Void Hunters. I’ll explain later, but they caught up with us in Hephaestus. It was pretty brutal.” She’d never seen an expression like that in her father’s eyes before. A deep, old sadness. She knew he was looking down at his little girl at that moment, seeing her as she was two centuries ago. “Emily, I’m so sorry. I never meant for anything like that to happen. You know that, don’t you?” “I know, dad,” she reassured him. “We did fine. The ship’s still in one piece, more or less.” “But a boarding action…I never wanted you to know that hell, Emily. You were supposed to be safe.” “I’m here because I want to be. Because I believe in this cause.” “But…” “I’m a grown woman, dad. You know that.” She shrugged him free. Reeve was standing up, brandishing the second fusion rifle, which she threw straight to her father. “Hey!”

“Sorry, he just looks like he knows how to handle it.” “I’ve fired a gun, Reeve! You’ve seen me do it!” “Here, have this.” She pulled out a laser pistol from the remains of the Enforcer’s belt. Its casing was a little charred, but it looked functional. “Thanks,” Emily said tartly. “We need to move before someone raises the alarm,” Ajax said, quickly modifying his rifle the same way Reeve had. “I think I’ve thought of a weakness in this fortress.” “What?” Emily asked. “We need to find a computer core. I think the one on level forty. I’ve scouted this place out pretty thoroughly since I’ve been stuck here and that’s where the shield generators for the operations level are located.” Reeve raised an eyebrow. “Operations level?” “Top floor. The command centre, the Castellan’s office. That’s where we’re going to have to strike.” “Makes sense,” Emily nodded, looking over her scavenged laser pistol critically. “We can’t take over this whole station though, not even from there.” “No, but we can disrupt enough systems to make them vulnerable to attack.” “With one ship?” Reeve didn’t look convinced. Ajax exchanged a glance with Emily. “We’ll come up with something.” “Great. Two of you now.” Ajax laughed and headed back towards his cell. Emily followed a metre or two behind him. Her father leant in to the cell opposite his where a very thin man was slumped against the bars. His face was covered in bruises and one eye was swollen completely shut. “I’m coming back for you,” her father said. “I know,” the frail figure replied.

“Who’s your friend?” Emily asked. “Just someone who took a beating on my behalf. An unlucky soul like the rest of us.” “What did he do?” “Nothing.” “Not exactly true,” the man said with a faint smile. “I’m a dissident from Parth Majoris. Maybe this is god’s punishment for me.” “Parth Majoris? You don’t happen to know a guy called David from Koth, do you?” The man gave her an odd look. “I know David. If it’s the same one.” “He’s a dissident too.” “Yes. I know the man you mean.” “If you ever get back there, tell him…” She thought for a second. “…just tell him I asked about him.” “I’ll try to .” Her father was looking at her strangely. “Who’s David?” “Just someone I met,” she replied evasively. “Met? What does that mean?” “You said I was my father’s daughter, right?” He stared at her, then shook his head helplessly and squatted down by the bars and put his hands through, clasping wrists with the prisoner. “I will be back.” “We’re running out of time,” Reeve called down the corridor. “Right.” Ajax got up to his feet and looked around at the other prisoners, all gathering at their doors. “When we have control of this level, we’re going to

blast the doors open. Be ready.” Emily slapped his shoulder and they jogged down the corridor after Reeve.

***

The Castellan stepped into the busy command centre at the peak of the Bastion. Unlike his office, there were no windows here, and the huge octagonal room was protected by the thickest armour on the facility and several layers of magnetic shields. His officers were busy keeping the huge station in working order – a constant battle – but right now his attention was focused on the raised holoscreen. His lieutenant was normally a confident, controlled woman, but she looked hugely uncomfortable right now. “He sounds angry,” she told him. “Well, I’m angry too. And I’m not scared of this jumped-up navy boy.” He didn’t feel nearly as sure of himself as he was making out though, and he sensed that she knew it. “Put him through.” Lord iral Dracon didn’t look angry at all. In fact, he looked completely calm and composed. He was reclining in a large leather chair, resplendent in his Spacefleet uniform, clearly on the bridge of a ship, judging by the activity going on behind him. “Castellan,” he greeted him. “Lord iral. Such a pleasure to finally speak face-to-face like this.” “I’m sure.” His expression was almost warm, but there was something terrible behind his eyes that even the Castellan, himself known throughout the sector as a ruthless overlord, found discomfiting. “So, what is it I can help you with?” “How is the work progressing?” “On schedule, as I’m sure the reports from my superiors have indicated.” “Indeed.” “In fact, Lord iral, while I appreciate the time you’ve taken to us, you might be better off speaking with the Overseers on Pegasus III. They have

all the information you might need.” He knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but right now he just wanted nothing to do with this Spacefleet tyrant. He had been planning to tell him that he had his most hated enemy prisoner, but now he decided that could wait. “I’m not interested in Pegasus III. I’m interested in your Bastion. My plans have changed.” The Castellan had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Oh?” “I need my ships immediately.” The Castellan’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” “I want work to commence this moment. I want every resource you have bent to this project.” “But…we haven’t even finished constructing the shipyards yet…we’re still bringing in workers from across the nearby sectors…the of the agreement were quite clear that…” “I set the !” Dracon roared, the volume of his voice actually caused a ripple of static over the neutrino signal. “Your Cartel promised me a million ships and that is what I intend to have!” “But, Lord iral, the timescales were always intended to be years, if not decades. A million ships, even for us, is no easy task.” “Your Overseers told me that there was nothing your Bastion could not do. The power of the stars themselves would be mine to command. Have I not met your price?” His voice was dangerously low now. “The contract…” “This is Wild Space, Castellan! You understand the rules here better than me, surely. Contracts are dictated by the ship with the biggest guns.” The Castellan drew himself up slightly. “This is the Typhon Bastion. The most heavily-armed space fortress in the Four Quadrants. We have the biggest guns.”

Dracon chuckled as he sat back in his chair. “No you don’t. I have a hundredthousand ships in this fleet, the most advanced designs Spacefleet has ever constructed. Even your Bastion would feel the scourge of this whip. Build my ships, Castellan.” “My Overseers will hear of this and…” “I’ve already turned Pegasus III into a smoking ruin! Your Cartel is in disarray! I’m en route to Typhon and expect to be there within days, if not hours. Begin construction. I want the first battleship wing built within a month. Fail me, and you’ll share your masters’ fate.” Dracon held his gaze for a long moment and then terminated the feed. “Sir?” his lieutenant said. All of his officers were looking at him, counting on his leadership in this moment of crisis. “You heard him,” he said in a faraway voice. “Start phase one of the project immediately. And double the strength of our Reaver parties. No, triple them. We need more slaves.” Turning abruptly on his heel, he marched back towards his office. “Sir,” one of his officers called from his station as he ed, “I’m picking up an alert in…” “Not now,” the Castellan snapped.

***

A blast of super-heated air sent the last of the Enforcers guarding the heavilyshielded door flying off his feet. He tumbled over the railings that separated the narrow gantry from the long fall into the darkness below. Here, in the depths of the Bastion, one of the great computer cores rose out of the steaming coolant chamber below, up into a vast, glittering web of circuitry which formed a dome over their heads. A narrow walkway was the only means of accessing the control

room in the mighty cylindrical structure and normally it would have been heavily guarded but, for some reason as they’d made their way up through the immense station, everything seemed to be in disarray and they’d encountered only minimal resistance. “This is almost too easy,” Emily mused aloud, pointing her pathetic laser pistol around. When no other Enforcers raised their heads, she dashed towards the entrance. “Don’t ignore those instincts girl,” her father told her as he followed. Reeve took up the rear, moving her glowing fusion rifle around, searching for any pursuit from the corridor beyond the door that led to this huge, domed chamber. At the holo access to the door, Emily stopped and looked down in consternation. “I need a valid thumbprint.” She looked over the railings where the guard had pitched into the freezing, fathomless depths. Even here, almost a kilometre above the swirling vapour, she felt a chill. “Think we can get him back?” “Not likely.” Reeve gestured for them to step aside and then took aim at the door. The multiple pulses from her rifle left searing marks on Emily’s retinas even with her eyes closed. When she looked again, the magna-shield protecting the door was rippling. Another volley and it collapsed and then it was a relatively simple operation to melt through the vibrosteel plates. Once it was done, Reeve cast aside her smoking gun with a contemptuous noise. The power cell was drained and the workings had clearly been melted into inoperability. Nonetheless, they’d gotten in. Emily ducked through the steaming hole melted in the thick blast doors and into the small control room. The furnishings consisted of a holodesk full of complicated schematics with a chair that looked like it hadn’t been used in a long while. Through a curved glass wall, she could make out strange-looking power conduits. She tilted her head. “What are those?” “Plasma?” Reeve hazarded. “Not so close to a computer core.” Ajax stepped up to the holodesk and ran a hand across the displays, trying to make sense of the images. The dark room was only lit by the red alert lights flashing on and off above their heads. No one seemed to be coming though.

“I’ve never seen anything like those,” Emily said, ing her father at the desk. “Cthonian?” “They built this place, or so the stories go. Look – they’re launching ships.” Emily craned her neck over his shoulder. One of the displays was a sensor grid showing the whole Bastion. Dozens of ships seemed to be undocking. “What’s going on?” “No idea, but they’re mobilising Enforcers and other crew everywhere. Whole sections have been locked down.” “Are they looking for us?” Reeve asked. Emily shook her head. “I don’t think so. Something else is happening.” She peered at more of the schematics. “I don’t understand this.” “Understand what?” her father said. “The power being channelled through this section, through these conduits, I’ve never seen anything like it.” She frowned. “How do they power this monster of a station anyway? There’s not enough radiation from the star to fuel a fusion convertor, and I haven’t seen any freighters hauling plasma back and forth.” Reeve leaned over and pointed at something on the schematic of the Bastion, a vast engine near the base to which all the computer cores and distributed power systems were connected. “That looks like a tidal drive to me.” “You’re right,” Ajax said. “Gravitational energy?” “On a static installation?” Emily keyed in a few commands and peered at the display with interest. “Holy stars, I’ve never seen anything like this before...look!” Reeve glanced around the room. “Emily, do we really have time for this?” “No, look, I’m reading a huge monodirectional gravity wake pouring into that generator at the base of the Bastion. It’s like a…a tether of some kind.” “A tether to what?” Ajax asked.

“Something about a light year away I think.” She looked up. “The Hades Cluster.” Reeve looked from her to her father in confusion. “What about it? What’s going on?” Emily’s hands were a blur as she worked at the holodesk, bringing up new sensor data. She had a reading on the Hades Cluster, and the schematic showed the six neutron stars orbiting a central point. The gravity tether snaked directly into it. “Somehow, this station siphons off gravitational energy from those stars.” “How?” Reeve sounded incredulous. “Dad, have you ever seen anything like this?” Ajax was stroking his moustache again. “Seen? No. Heard of it, yes, but only in legends. Found a ruined one once. Or that’s what we thought it was anyway. Hard to tell – it was just a shell, really.” “A ruined what?” Reeve’s tone had gone back to exasperated. She clearly wasn’t comfortable being in this situation without a gun and kept glancing up at the blinking red alert lights. “A Cthonian star engine,” Emily explained, still looking at her father. “Used to harness the power of suns. Like a tidal drive, but vastly more powerful. It turns gravitational forces into useful energy. Unless I’m mistaken, this whole Bastion is powered by a star engine set at the Lagrange point of those six neutron stars. No wonder the Hydra Cartel is so powerful.” “With a star engine,” Ajax explained to Reeve, “you have access to almost infinite power. And that’s just if it’s in orbit of an ordinary star. At a gravitational nexus like the Hades Cluster, I have no idea what you might be able to achieve.” “Build a million ships for one,” Emily said darkly. “Almost anything becomes trivial with that kind of energy source. You just need the manpower.” “Slaves,” Reeve filled in. Her lip curled in disgust. Emily ran a hand through her hair as she stared down at the terrifying sensor readout. “Dracon isn’t just going to build his fleet here; he’s going to set up a

base of operations. He’ll be unstoppable. The Hydra Cartel probably don’t even know what they’re sitting on, not really, but that bastard figured it out.” She slammed her fist down onto the desk and the displays flickered. “He was always a canny one,” Ajax sighed. “It’s even more important we try to get control of the Bastion now.” “Right.” Emily’s eyes roved across the displays. Her moment of frustration had opened up a few more windows displaying other sensor images. Something caught her eye in the corona of Typhon. Tidal wakes. A lot of tidal wakes. “Are those ships?” “Maybe the Cartel’s vessels are leaving the system,” Reeve said. “No, they’re hours away yet.” Her eyes went wide. “I’m picking up thousands of power signatures.” The display was almost overwhelmed by the blinking pinpricks of light, each of which represented a ship maybe a dozen kilometres long. “A fleet just entered the system!” “What fleet?” Ajax asked. “I only know one that size.” “What do we do?” Reeve asked. Emily turned away and activated her interface. “Well for one thing, I’m telling The Sunskimmer to get here as fast as they can. Dad – we need this Bastion in our hands before Dracon and his fleet get here.” “I’m working on it!” Only after she’d walked back onto the gantry, to catch her breath and order her thoughts before ing Jilly, did she realised she’d given him an order.

***

Up in his office, the Castellan was looking at the same sensor images. Sweat trickled down the small of his back underneath his black uniform. It was always pleasantly cool in his office, but it didn’t seem to make any difference now. He saw those wakes burst from near Typhon’s orbit as the tidal drives of a huge fleet dropped back into non-relativistic space. Thousands of ships, all headed his way, and the Bastion wasn’t in a fit state to repel them. His Reavers were leaving right now, their sublight drives leaving burning contrails across the black of space outside his panoramic windows. They couldn’t repel a fleet of any size at the moment, not with weapons stations unmanned. There were alerts all over his display too – most likely civil disturbances. Nothing unusual in that and, he supposed, the population might be getting a bit concerned with the lockdowns across the station. Well, they’d have more to worry about soon enough. Every civilian in the Bastion would find themselves pressed into work before too long, or it’d be the death of all of them. What choice did he have? He’d always thought of himself as a hard, dangerous man, but Dracon chilled him to the bone. He hadn’t yet confirmed the destruction of Pegasus III, the home base of Hydra Cartel, but he was absolutely certain it surface was nothing more than smoking slag now. Another alert chimed and he wiped his forehead. More sweat. How was he supposed to build an entire wing of battleships in a month? Even with the power from the Hades Cluster, that was simply impossible. Unless, as Dracon had promised the Cartel, he knew some way of making it more efficient. The new alert got more insistent. A power signature of some kind, very close to the station. He licked his lips and considered calling the lieutenant to investigate it, but he’d already looked weak in front of his officers once today. He had no wish to call on them again. He focused the sensors himself, trying to get a clear reading. There was definitely something out there, but he couldn’t get any sort of visual. There was an odd sensation in the office suddenly, as if the pressure had dropped. His ears popped. The Castellan looked up and saw a small crack snaking its way up one of his tall windows. He opened his mouth to call for help, but his voice died in his throat as, appearing out of the darkness, wavering like a mirage before resolving itself, was a starship, horribly close, a fearsome prow studded with guns looming towards his office, now somehow shorn of its protective magnetic fields. The Castellan hurled himself to one side as a shuttle crashed through the

unprotected windows and skidded to a halt in the middle of the carpet. He grabbed desperately at his desk as the decompression sucked the atmosphere out into the void. He was lifted off his feet and the breath was pulled from his lungs. He just had time to see three figures in space suits climb out of the shuttle, all wielding advanced railguns. The closest one turned to him and took aim. The tumult of escaping atmosphere sent the shot wide, but it blasted his desk free and he found himself floating free, spiralling out into space, watching as his shattered office receded into the distance. The Bastion glowered out at him and his last thought before he finally suffocated in the vacuum was to reflect on how much he’d always hated this horrible giant pyramid.

***

Emily entered the command centre, followed closely by her father and Reeve. They found the officers cowering on the floor, guarded by three people wearing The Sunskimmer’s space suits. As Emily looked around questioningly, the nearest one pulled off their helmet revealing the flustered face of Jilly, smiling tightly. Her companions did likewise, becoming a grinning Kit and a lessamused Tarq. “Who’s in command?” Emily asked as Jilly tossed her a fusion pistol. “Halib.” “I hope you told her not to crash my ship – she’s holding it a little close to this monstrosity for my liking.” “Your ship?” Ajax asked with a cocked eyebrow as he stepped down into the command centre. It was a big room filled with terminals and holo-displays. The woman who seemed to be in charge was glowering furiously at them all from the floor where she sat with her hands on her head under the watchful eye of Kit and his railgun. “Captain,” Jilly greeted him.

“Just Robert now, please.” He circled the main table in the centre of the room. It displayed a glowing schematic of the Typhon system with its few paltry rock worlds and feeble star. Right now it was dominated by the thousands of power signatures making their way towards them. “How far away are they?” Reeve asked as she came to stand beside him. “Hours.” “What’s our status, Jilly?” Emily asked. She took up a position on the raised platform that led to the Castellan’s former office, now protected by a shimmering magnetic field that held the raging vacuum outside at bay. “The Bastion’s in chaos. They have no fighting ships to speak of. It looks like they were all dispatched a short time ago for some reason. We opened the prisons like you asked and it seems a few hundred escapees have seized control of the lower levels already. The Enforcers seem pretty useless without a central command, but a few of their security chiefs seem to be mounting a counterattack. One called Vexl or something seems to have taken control?” Ajax grunted something Emily didn’t catch. “So we’re not in any shape to fight off an attacking fleet, in other words?” “We must be able to get some weapons online?” “Not without gunnery crews,” Tarq said. He was tapping at another console across the room, still keeping his gun trained on the nearest Cartel officer. “These are huge weapon banks. There’s no AI in the galaxy that could reliably direct their fire against a manned fleet.” “So what do we do?” “We run,” Ajax said. “As much as it galls me. We can’t fight Dracon here, not like this.” “There has to be another way,” Emily said, walking down the short flight of steps to the central table. “We can’t let him have access to the Hades Cluster. We can’t let him build that fleet.” “You know what you have to do, Emily.” Reeve met her eyes across the table. At

Babylon, she’d won this woman’s loyalty by choosing to end a battle instead of start one. Was that her choice today? “How long will it take to evacuate the station?” She turned to the lieutenant. “You – how long?” “Days,” the woman spat. “Even if we just put everyone in lifeboats?” “There aren’t enough lifeboats to evacuate the entire population. This is like a city. And all the combat ships have left. All we have are merchant cogs and cutters. We’re stuck here.” Emily bit her lip. “We have no choice. The only option left is destroying this Bastion so that Dracon can’t use it.” One of the officers tried to jump to his feet but Kit knocked him across the back of the head with the barrel of his gun and sent him sprawling. “Stay down, you!” “There are hundreds of thousands of people on this station, Emily,” her father told her. “I know. But you heard her – we don’t have time to evacuate.” “Get on The Sunskimmer,” he said. “I’ll stay behind, try to get as many people away as I can.” “No way.” “Emily, this is the only way. We both know it. With a star engine, Dracon’s unstoppable.” “I’m not going to lose you again,” she said firmly. “There has to be some way we can blow this ancient heap of junk out of the sky without us in it.” “Saving the galaxy was always going to involve tough decisions, Emily,” Reeve said. “Ask your father. He knows.” “I do,” Ajax said, and Emily heard that sadness in his voice again. “A hundred-

thousand lives against the devastation Dracon will wreak. It’s a simple, brutal equation.” “I don’t believe in the numbers.” She looked up. “Hail the flagship. Maybe we can negotiate.” Tarq worked his console. “Flagship…hm…” “It’ll be the biggest one,” she snarled. “Some Titan-class eyesore. They should be close enough to pick out visually now.” “There’s no Titans out there. In fact, no warship classes I recognise at all.” He shook his head in confusion. “Just…freighters, cogs, cutters and frigates…a few older cruiser classes. They look pretty heavily retrofitted with weapons though. It’s like a huge flotilla. Thousands of ships, but they’re out of formation, not moving in any sort of good order. More like refugees than a battle fleet.” Ajax looked at him and then spun towards the blank holoscreen. “Give me…” “Give me a visual,” Emily barked over him. “As close as you can get.” The fleet, such as it was, flicked into view. Ships of all kinds filled the screen, a mismatched armada of refitted cargo transports and privateer vessels, coming towards them in a huge swarm. “What the hell?” “We’re getting a transmission,” Tarq said, “they’re asking…they’re asking for Captain Ajax.” “Then put them through,” Emily said, leaning on the table. She was still frowning, but now her heart was beating faster. After a few seconds, a familiar face appeared on the screen, an older man sitting on the cramped bridge of some frigate, peering at them in consternation. “Emily? Where’s your father?” “Right here, Patrick,” Ajax smiled, stepping up beside her. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” “We came here expecting to have to hurl ourselves against the Bastion’s walls to try and rescue you,” Patrick said, leaning on his armrest and giving them a bemused look. Many years ago, he’d been the chief engineer of The Sunskimmer

and was one of her father’s closest friends. He’d lived on Jotun, which Ajax had found sourced to the bedrock less than a month ago. Evidently he’d managed to escape. “Captain Ajax got there first I’m afraid,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Patrick,” Emily said, “where did you get that fleet?” “We’ve been gathering together every privateer, every bounty hunter, every rebel and malcontent smuggler in the Quadrants for months now, ready to make a stand. These ships may not be much, but we’ve got crews ready to follow Captain Ajax to hell and back, if it comes to it.” “I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” Emily smiled. Patrick’s eyes flicked from her to her father and back again. “Well, you might not have much choice. We’ve spent days dodging Spacefleet patrols, and our sensors picked up a huge fleet entering the Bellerophon system just as we left. Dracon’s hot on our tail.” “Then this is where we make our stand.” Emily climbed back up onto the raised platform. “You crewmen,” she announced to the room, “my name is Captain Emily Ajax, and the Typhon Bastion is now officially under my command. You can stay here and me, or I can put you on a boat, point you at Typhon and see if Lord iral Dracon will accept your oaths when he arrives. Those that stay will be treated fairly, but I won’t pretend it won’t be dangerous; the fate of the Four Quadrants rests here, with us.” She looked back at the holoscreen. “Patrick, dock your ships. We’ve got preparations to make.” He bobbed his head. “Aye, sir.” Emily looked around. “Well? Are you with me or against me?” “We’re with you,” Reeve said. “To the end,” Jilly added. Her father was looking up at her. “What are your orders, Captain?” She clenched her fist. “Battle stations.”

SIXTEEN

Lord iral Dracon strode through the doors that led from his stateroom to the main bridge of his flagship, the FPS Cronus. It was a Titan-class battleship, an immense vessel capable of pulverising an entire world into submission, but extensively upgraded with more advanced weaponry and armour so it was an entirely new kind of ship. Two sister ships were out there with the marshalling fleet, the Tethys and the Krios. The entrance to the bridge was flanked by two Spacefleet Marines, motionless in their grey armour, the only sound the gentle whirring of their bionic enhancements as they silently surveyed the bustling command centre of his vast fleet. The bridge itself was a cavernous chamber divided into many smaller sections, each crowded with Spacefleet officers working holographic terminals or barking orders to their subordinates. Runners dashed between sections, hopping up onto the raised walkway that led to the chair at the centre of it all, itself on another dais so that whoever was commanding looked down on the whole chaotic scene like an emperor from some barbarous world. In front of that, spanning the entire curved front wall of the bridge, was a panoramic holoscreen that stretched from floor to ceiling. Many smaller displays flicked across it, highlighting certain aspects of the image, focusing on engine readouts or reports from the various commanders of the many ships flitting across the backdrop. It was a bewildering array of data, and an entire bank of clones sat just in front of it, diligently working at terminals their augmented brains were plugged into, calculating and cogitating, overseeing the fleet movements with minds faster than any fully-mechanical computer. As Dracon reached the command chair, his Executive Officer, Commander Hart, vacated the seat and gave him a smart salute. “Lord iral, we have entered the Typhon system. I have ordered the fleet to take up orbit of the star.” “Very good,” Dracon said as he sat down. Hart took up her position standing by his side on the dais. The diminutive woman was a fine officer, loyal and by the book and he’d picked her out of hundreds of possible candidates for the role.

Unlike his old friend Captain Ajax, Dracon didn’t want an XO who’d question his orders. “Give me a visual on the Bastion,” he continued, clasping his hands in front of him. The cluster of sensor officers in front of the dais manipulated the holoscreen. Its view swung around with a lurch, away from the sight of the fleet massing, past the white blaze of light from the Hades Cluster with the ominous band of red from the Promethean Rift behind it, to the blank, pyramidal shape of the Typhon Bastion, barely visible against the blackness of space. Dracon narrowed his eyes at it. “Sensors indicate there are several thousand ships docked or in a Trojan orbit of the facility.” Hart said. “That seems an unusually large amount, even for a station that size.” “Yes, sir. We believe they are fleet we pursued out of Beleraphon.” “Hydra knows better than to harbour renegades.” Dracon knew what was going on, but wasn’t the kind of man to jump to conclusions. “Scan the ships. Look for a modified Helmsman-class freighter.” After a few seconds, one of the lieutenants at the sensor station spoke up. “I have something like that, sir. It looks like it’s been upgraded with larger engines, amongst other things.” “The Sunskimmer,” Dracon said. “As I thought. Ajax will be on that station, and it looks like his meddling daughter has brought him his ship. So, this is where this story will end.” “Sir?” Hart looked at him. “What we came here to do. These rebels are Ajax’s; the scum of the Quadrants gathered together under his ragged banner and no doubt he’s somehow learned about my plans for the Bastion. He means to make a stand here.” “Shall I order the fleet to engage?” He shook his head. “No, not yet. We’re still hours away.”

“Our destroyer wings can launch a strike within twenty minutes, sir,” Hart said. “And that Bastion will make short work of them. Only a determined assault will take it and Ajax knows that. That’s why he’s retreated here. But I know how he thinks.” He tapped his temple with one gloved finger. “I was his XO for decades. Have you ever been to Gloria VI, commander?” “Sir?” “A remote world in the Northern Quadrant, not far from the Coatl Array. It’s a primitive backwater, ruled over by petty warlords, but a valuable source of oxymontrazine fibre. Ajax and I were there some centuries ago. They play a game there, almost unique as far as we know. It’s a kind of board game.” He mimed a flat surface with his hands. “We programmed The Sunskimmer’s computer with an electronic version, but it somehow feels better to play it physically. More tactile. It’s a simple game, with thirty-two pieces played on a board with black and white squares, divided into two forces, like an ancient land battle. Each player picks a side, and battle commences. The moves of each piece are easy to learn, but strategies are emergent and it’s extremely tricky to master. A fascinating diversion.” Hart frowned. “You played it with Captain Ajax, sir?” “Many times,” Dracon said, smiling faintly at the memory. “He was very good at it. A bold player, prone to sometimes foolish gambits, but they often paid off. That was his way. He either won big or lost big. When I beat him, it was only because he’d overreached himself. But, here’s the thing, he never sacrificed a pawn.” “Pawn, sir?” “The weakest and most numerous piece. But also potentially the most powerful. A pawn could become any other piece on the board, in the right circumstances. Ajax believed strongly in that idea. Ajax is a romantic.” He leant forward. “I know that man, and he knows me. Most of our careers have been spent fighting on the same side. Now, at last, we shall pit out wits against one another.” “Do you mean to kill him, sir?” She blushed slightly as he stared at her. “I mean…if it’s not too personal a question.”

“I mean to win,” Dracon said, looking back at the holoscreen and the Bastion slowly moving through its long orbit. “What happens to Ajax is a secondary concern.”

***

The Bastion’s command centre was much smaller than the bridge of the Cronus, but no less busy. Around the central table which flickered with various holodisplays, Emily Ajax and her most-trusted companions were examining the sensor data coming in from close orbit of Typhon. Jilly looked troubled as she pointed at the massing dots that represented power signatures. “At least a hundred-thousand Spacefleet vessels, everything from transports and fighters, through to a handful of truly massive battleships. It’s what’s left of the fleet Dracon brought to Babylon, strengthened with I’d guess every patrol in the Quadrant.” Emily rested her hands on the table and frowned. “I take it they have sufficient firepower to blow us out of the sky?” “By my calculations,” Halib said. “We’d be able to withstand about a three hour bombardment from their whole fleet before the Bastion’s structure collapsed.” “Lovely,” Kit murmured. “And how much damage would we inflict in that time?” Reeve asked. “Not enough,” Emily told her. “We’re outnumbered and outgunned, even with your fleet, dad.” Her father looked up at her from across the table. He looked old now, despite the longevity treatments that had extended his lifespan. He ran his hand down his curved moustache the way he always did when he was gathering his thoughts. “My fleet is pretty ragtag, but the crews are good. And Patrick is working on some upgrades. Not that we can do much in the time we have.” “We have what we have,” Emily said. She looked at the display again. The map was rendered in two-dimensions as the technology on the Bastion was fairly old. Blips on a screen, but each one represented enough firepower to strip a world of

its atmosphere and kill billions. She’d never fought a space battle like this before and the thought of it scared her. “We have one advantage and it’s that Dracon wants to take the Bastion intact. He wants to build his shipyards here, powered by the energy siphoned off the Hades Cluster.” She pointed to another display that showed the strange array of six tidally locked neutron stars and the Cthonian engine they thought lay at its barycentre. “He won’t destroy the station if he can avoid it,” Ajax agreed. “But we’ve seen how fast Spacefleet can build new assets these days. He put that fleet together in a matter of months. If he has to destroy this station to take control of the Hades Cluster, he will, even if it means building something in its place.” “Nonetheless, we at least know his motives.” Emily rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem to be attacking yet. That’s good.” “He’s waiting to see what we’ll do,” Ajax explained. “I know that man, Emily. He’s cautious, by the book. Whenever I wanted to take some damn fool risk, it was him holding me back, telling me to wait and see. Sometimes he was wrong, and sometimes I was wrong.” “And now?” He shrugged. “The antiphoton will decay where it may.” Emily exchanged a rueful smile with Reeve. “Everyone keep tracking the fleet’s movements and readying the Bastion’s defences. Dracon may be content to wait right now, but that won’t last long. He didn’t bring a hundred-thousand ships here for the view. Dad, can I have a word?” She led him up the steps at the back of the control centre to the recently vacated office of the Bastion’s Castellan. The panoramic windows The Sunskimmer’s shuttle had destroyed had been hastily repaired, but the room was otherwise still in a state of disarray from its sudden exposure to the vacuum of space. The desk, blown apart by a railgun then sent pirouetting out into the void along with the unfortunate Castellan, had been replaced with a functional square table liberated from the officers’ mess on the level below. Emily dragged a chair up to it and then sat down and put her head in her hands. “Everything okay, kid?” Ajax asked her, pulling another chair up and spinning it around so he could sit on it backwards, like he always liked to. It fitted his rather

rakish persona somehow. He’d looked more alive these past few months, running from his old friend, than she’d ever seen him before. It was cheering, but also a little worrying. “This is a big battle,” she said. “The biggest that’s been fought in centuries,” Ajax acknowledged. “And they’re looking to me for leadership.” “You’re Captain Ajax now,” he said with a wink. “You’ve made that pretty damn clear.” She smiled. “I know. But commanding a starship is a little different from leading a fleet into battle. I’ve never done this before.” “There’s a first time for everything.” “I know. But I was thinking you’ve been in this situation dozens of times…” “Hundreds,” he corrected. “Whatever. Point is, you know how to command a fleet. You should be in charge, not me.” Ajax chuckled slightly. “That would seem to make sense, wouldn’t it?” “You agree?” “No. Let me tell you a story, Emily.” He leant across the table and took her hands in his. His grip was firm, but gentle. She had a sudden vision of her childhood, impossibly distant now, of being a little girl and him taking her hands in just the same way. Her little, soft, pale hands lost in the callous embrace of his. “When I first bought The Sunskimmer, when I was a privateer, we were just a band of miscreants thrown together by fate. Me and Patrick and Col and Faye and all the rest. We didn’t know what we were doing. Just a bunch of hungry kids who wanted a slice of the universe for ourselves. I was the captain, because a captain commands a ship, but the rest were just whoever they were. They did what they were best at and we all got along fine. That was okay for chasing asteroid pirates and escorting convoys through Wild Space. You don’t need a

chief engineer – you just need one guy who knows how the engine works and you let him get on with things. But then the missions got bigger and more important. I was directing a squadron, speaking for the Free Planets on dangerous worlds and, yes, fighting in space battles. That’s when Spacefleet sent me Dracon to be my XO. And you know what his first suggestion was?” Emily loved hearing stories about her father’s career and, even with war brewing outside the huge windows, she wanted to know more. “What?” she smiled. “He told me I needed a proper chain of command. He asked what happened when I wasn’t on the bridge. I told him I just put whoever I trusted most in command. I told him that’s how it had always been and we didn’t care for no jumped-up navy boy telling us what to do.” He grinned, but that old sadness Emily had begun to notice was there behind his eyes again. Dracon was the man now hunting him. Whatever old memories he had were forever tainted. “It took us a while, but we began to follow the Spacefleet model, more or less. I made sure everyone knew their place on the ship. In battle, you need that structure. Everyone needs to know their job, or it could get everyone else killed. And people need to know who’s in charge.” “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying you can’t put me in charge, Emily. You took this Bastion, you brought The Sunskimmer here. You survived Dracon once before, you survived religious zealots and Darkstar Raiders. You’ve done me proud and I have a feeling you’ll be a better Captain Ajax than I ever was. That’s why you need to lead this battle. Defer to me and everything you’ve done will be tarnished. And I know how that feels, Emily.” He squeezed her hands slightly. “I hope I can live up to your expectations, Dad.” “I know you can. It’s in your blood. That Blackheart girl? Reeve? I’ve met people like her before, not just during the Darkstar Wars. And not just people. I was on Vexis once. I don’t think you’ve been there – it’s a beautiful place, but wild and dangerous. Almost the whole surface is covered in dense jungle. The folks there live in underground complexes to protect themselves from the wild animals. I was out there hunting, centuries ago, and I happened across a jaguar drinking from this pool of crystal clear water in a clearing. She didn’t see me at first and I went to back away, but I must’ve stepped on a twig or something

because her head shot up and she looked me right in the eyes. I could see the predatory instinct in that gaze and I felt something deep inside me.” He put a hand against his chest. “Something primal and ancient. A fear. The way that animal moved, the way its muscles tensed, the way it opened its jaws and showed me those teeth. I don’t mind telling you that I ran as fast as I could. She didn’t chase me, but if she did, I’d probably be dead. Reeve reminds me of that jaguar. When we cloned her father, I know what we put into him. He was the most aggressive, sadistic man in the Quadrants and I don’t know who her mother was but I never met a Darkstar not comfortable with a weapon in their hand. She’s a warrior. Battleborn, as they say in some parts of the galaxy.” “What does this have to do with me?” “She’s a warrior, but you’re a leader Emily. You don’t just get it from me, but from your mother. She freed Osiris from oppression. She organised, she worked and, yes, she fought. Her people worshipped her. You know all this. I was just a space rogue who landed in her lap one day. I helped, but she was the lynchpin. You’re the best of us Emily – my courage without the recklessness, and her calm composure without the parochialism. One day I think you might end up ruling the galaxy. But for now, you have to lead this fight.” “Okay,” Emily said with a wide smile for his flattery. “That makes sense. But I need your expertise. I want you by my side here.” He looked surprised. “Here? You intend to command from the Bastion?” “Is that a problem?” “Okay, first piece of advice for a space battle: don’t command from a static installation. Seen too many fusty irals make that mistake. What happens if the battle leaves your orbit? I know Dracon wants this station, but if he leads the fight away, you’re going to be stuck here relying on sensor data that could be minutes or hours out of date. You need to be in a ship.” “The Sunskimmer then.” “Patrick’s ship is bigger. It’s a modified Hellion-class under all those sensor pylons, I think. No wonder he calls it The Porcupine…” “No, it has to be The Sunskimmer. What you just said about the chain of

command means I don’t have any other choice.” “All right then. So you want me as your XO? How’s Jilly going to feel about that?” “I have something else in mind for her,” she said cryptically.

***

Jilly wasn’t happy at first. She’d gathered all of the senior crew together in the command centre again. On the large holoscreen mounted on the wall, they could see Dracon’s fleet forming up into huge wings. The core of the battle line was formed around his fearsome flagship, with other cruisers almost as large taking up position close by. Uncountable escort squadrons flitted around their charges like worker bees and the ranks of ships stretched off into the distance until they became black specks against the deep red backdrop of Typhon’s cold sun. The silent image of objects moving at the stately pace demanded by space belied the horror they could unleash. The weapons they carried, Emily reminded herself, could reduce this entire vast space station – itself home to hundreds of thousands of people – to scrap in hours. “I’m your XO,” Jilly said insistently. “I should be by your side.” “You will be, just not literally.” She glanced at her father. “Jilly, I need my father’s expertise when I command. There can only be one Captain Ajax, and that Captain Ajax can only have one XO. As of this moment, my father has the effective rank of Commander and will serve as Executive Officer of The Sunskimmer.” “Demoted by my own daughter,” Ajax laughed. “And you, Jilly,” Emily went on before she could protest again, “will take command of the Bastion.” She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“This is the most powerful weapon in our arsenal, Commander, but it needs someone with a good head in a crisis to use it. You’ve curbed my recklessness for the last few months, but now I need that steady hand of yours on the tiller of this station. You’re my most reliable asset.” “Reliable? Me?” She looked frightened by the suggestion. Emily still didn’t know exactly what Jilly had gone through at the hands of The Exposed – even Reeve wouldn’t say – but it had affected her deeply. “Jilly, you defended the bridge against the Darkstar Raiders, and you braved the vacuum to help me take this station. You’ve proved yourself time and time again. You’re a fine officer and I know you’re right for this command. I want you to use the officers from the Hydra Cartel where possible, but I’ll assign some crew from The Sunskimmer too.” The Hydra officers who had remained behind made up a fairly sorry band. Some had taken up Emily’s offer to try their luck with Dracon’s fleet – their transports hadn’t even gotten within communication range before his ships destroyed them. So the rest were stuck here, probably suspecting they were about to be on the losing side of this battle, but with nowhere else to go. The only one who seemed enthusiastic was the lieutenant who’d been second in command of the Bastion under the old Castellan, a woman named Una. She’d seemed angry at first, but Emily had learned that most of her fury was directed at the Spacefleet ships. She wanted Jilly to use her as an XO, but that would be her decision. “I’ll command the fleet from The Sunskimmer,” Emily went on. “With Commander Ajax by my side. Kit, your place is at the helm and I’d like to keep you there too, Halib. I’m giving you both the rank of lieutenant. You’ll report to Ajax.” She glanced at Reeve. “Glo is still hurt and won’t be able to serve on the bridge. I want you to take his station.” “I’m not part of your crew, Emily,” Reeve said. “No, but you belong on my bridge. We both know that by now.” “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” “Then we’re done here. That fleet could attack at any moment, and we have to be ready for them. Dismissed.”

***

The docking umbilical that led to The Sunskimmer’s bay was an ancient design, an example the few pieces of Cthonian technology left on the Bastion. It was like a corridor reaching out into space, embellished with twisted columns and other strange decorations, protected from the vacuum by a curved glass ceiling. The doors opened and Emily walked out flanked by Reeve and Jilly. The three of them began the long walk down the age beneath a vast dome of stars. Out here on the edge of the galaxy there were fewer stars than Emily was used to but it was still a spectacular view. The constellations were of course unfamiliar to her, but looking with the naked eye rather than seeing space filtered through a sensor, she could make out some comforting sights. Away to her left was the band of the galactic disc like a glittering arc across the heavens and, in the place where it bulged slightly and grew brighter with the concentration of stars, she knew the Core worlds of the Free Planets were nestled. Lumina, the most populous world in the Four Quadrants with its sky constantly lit by the pale glow of a trillion stars, was there somewhere. Close by would be ancient Tetron with its dusty palace – complexes reaching high into the atmosphere – and swampy Echelon II that was famous for its massive floating cities, lifted above the unstable ground by the methane deposits that seeped from the fragmentary crust. Worlds she knew from visits many years ago, but none stirred her heart like the dark red smudge she could see further right. It should be a chilling sight, the Darkstar Nebula, but it meant home because Osiris was close by. She couldn’t guess which of the tiny pinpricks of light it might be, but she knew the general area and that was enough. Closer to hand were places which had been the sites of more recent adventures. Off to the right was the Promethean Rift and Hephaestus which, like Osiris, she’d never be able to pick out. She could also see the multi-coloured Arcadian Nebula that had led them to fabled Babylon and a wavering blue star which might well be the Eyes of God, which watched over Parth, Ahead of them was the glow of the Hades Cluster. The individual neutron stars

couldn’t be seen, just a vague smear of light and, being thrown out in great arcs that spanned the whole system, huge glimmering waves of stellar gas and energy. It was a stunning spectacle, and Emily felt like she was walking beneath the story of her whole life. “What are we fighting for, Emily?” Reeve asked her. “Freedom.” “Is that all?” “No. We’re fighting for our past and our future. My father’s legacy has brought us here, to this place.” “And his destiny will determine the fate of the galaxy.” “My destiny.” They reached the airlock and Emily turned to Jilly. “This is where we part ways, Commander.” She held out her hand. “For now.” Jilly took her hand then pulled her into a tight embrace. They held each other for a moment while Reeve looked on a little awkwardly. “Don’t get yourself killed,” Jilly told Emily as she pulled away. “I don’t plan to.” “No one ever plans to,” Reeve said darkly. “Good luck,” Emily said. “You too. Listen to your father when he tells you to do something.” “I will – if it’s something I want to do. I’m Captain Ajax. And that might be what saves us. Dracon isn’t expecting me to be in command.” “Let’s hope not.” Emily turned and walked towards her ship which looked truly gargantuan from the outside, but would be dwarfed by most of the vessels they’d be facing. “Look after her,” Jilly told Reeve.

“I will. I wish I could be here to look after you as well. I like it better when you’re both on the same ship so I can keep an eye on you.” “I’ll be okay.” Reeve held her gaze. “You’d better be.” “Ladies?” Emily said from the airlock. “We don’t want to keep the Lord iral waiting, do we?” “Have fun, Emily.” “I always do,” she grinned.

SEVENTEEN

As Emily and Reeve stepped through The Sunskimmer’s airlock they were met by Tarq and Patrick coming the other way. Patrick, her father’s former chief engineer, a man she’d called uncle growing up, inclined his head slightly as they approached. “Captain Ajax.” “Captain Patrick. Is The Porcupine ready?” “She was built ready. And I should know, since I laid her keel myself.” He turned to Tarq and clapped him on the shoulder. “More importantly, this old girl is ready too.” Reeve raised an eyebrow. “Tarq? Is there something you aren’t telling us?” “He means The Sunskimmer,” Emily smiled. “And I’m glad you approve.” “Your engineer here is a talented young man. This ship is two centuries out of date and she’s still flying like she’s fresh out of the yards.” “A lot of that’s down to your original modifications, sir,” Tarq said modestly. “Granted,” Patrick nodded – like her father, he was never one to shy away from a compliment. “But I always figured no one besides me would ever figure out how to do anything on this ship, the way I jury-rigged the systems together. He told me you broke the transluminal velocity record too. Had to see the engine logs to believe it, but that’s a hell of an achievement in a converted ore freighter.” “Let’s hope she fights as well as she flies,” Emily said, a note of grim determination entering her voice. “Hm,” Patrick said. “I think Rob’s already on the bridge, no doubt getting used to his new position. And I should be doing the same. The Porcupine awaits its captain.”

As he stepped past, Emily placed a hand on his arm. “Patrick – I never thanked you for coming to our aid.” “I came because your father asked me to. And because that bastard Dracon turned my world to ash. I got my family out before he arrived, but I lost a lot of good friends, and a home I’d spent decades building. Now we may not have anywhere to go. I have grandchildren who are fugitives. Children, Emily.” “I know. But I still want to thank you. The fleet you brought…” “Old friends mostly, but a few new ones too. You can rely on them. You may not have known it in Osiris, but Spacefleet have been throwing their weight around for a long time in these parts. I’m not the only one who’s been forced to run from people they thought were their friends. I think Rob knew some of it, but he was in too deep to change things. Faking his death, organising all this,” he looked around the corridor, “I suppose it’s his way of making amends. For everything.” He glanced at Reeve. “He always tried to do the right thing.” “Even if it revolved around some half-baked plan, no, scratch that, especially if it revolved around some half-baked plan.” Emily laughed. “Good luck,” she told Patrick, shaking his hand. “You too, Captain.” She shot Tarq a smile as he made his way towards the engineering control room and they carried on to the bridge. When they entered, they found Ajax up by Kit at the helm, one foot planted on the side of the console, his arm resting easily on his knee. He was gesturing at the holoscreen which showed them Dracon’s fleet moving into position before them. The number of ships was bewildering, but Emily pushed the thought to the back of her mind. “Commander Ajax?” she asked as she sat down. “Ah, Captain,” he said, turning to her, “I was just explaining to your young helmsman some of the complexities of space combat.” “I see.” This would be Kit’s first time piloting a starship in a true combat situation. Her new XO was right to be offering him advice. Emily had been on

worlds with ruins hundreds of thousands of years old, spread across the Quadrants. Mankind had been in space since long before any recorded history and yet it was clear that this was not their natural environment. They had evolved on the surface of terrestrial worlds, planetside; that was obvious from their physiology. Whether it was upon one forgotten planet or simultaneously across the galaxy, no one knew. But the fact remained that the vacuum of space was inimical to all life except for the hardiest spores and microbes, and their bodies and minds were built to think in of two-dimensional planes, not the baffling, directionless vastness of the void. Even their ships had tops and bottoms, fronts and backs, lefts and rights: bilaterally symmetrical, like their makers, divided into flat decks. Combat in this environment then could be deeply unintuitive. “Why don’t you include us all, Commander? I think the bridge crew might benefit from some of your advice as regards warfare in the vacuum.” Ajax cracked a smile and stepped into the middle of the bridge, so he was centre of attention, just the way he liked it. “Most people, when they think about space combat, imagine it’s just like flying around, shooting at each other. That’s fine for an atmosphere, with gravity pulling you down, but if you try that kind of thing out here, there are a couple of problems.” He turned around slowly, addressing the whole room as he raised a finger. “One: in space, nothing stands still. You all know that. As soon as you fire your thrusters, you’ll keep going in that direction forever until you hit something. And the chances of that happening are billions to one. If you try to manoeuvre rapidly in deep space like that, you’ll never get near another vessel. Those ships out there might look close through the eyes of these sensors, but they’re more than a million klicks away. We start zipping around, changing direction, we’ll lose them in minutes. The battle will fall apart.” He raised another finger. “Two: energy expenditure. Even on the largest starship, weapons and engines drain power. And the more you fire your guns, the more you have to worry about course corrections – even the recoil from one weapon battery is going to alter your velocity and trajectory. And then doing the calculations to keep everything going in the right direction drains your computer core memory too. Never mind the other guys shooting at you: as soon as you start shooting and moving at the same time, it’s all you can do to keep your ship in the air. That, my lucky friends, is why space battles are almost always fought in stable orbits of planets or stars.” He pointed towards Dracon’s massing fleet. “See how they’re falling into the same orbit as us, alongside the Bastion? All of us are in roughly the same ecliptic, falling towards Typhon at the same speed. That means, relatively speaking, we’re all standing still. If they

shoot, it’s going to travel along the same arc, straight towards us – even an antiphoton beam is bent by the gravity of a star. If we were all just floating aimlessly, they’d never hit a thing.” Kit frowned up at the holoscreen. “Why don’t they surround us then?” “Again, two reasons,” Ajax explained, “firstly, their position gives them an advantage. They’re facing the same direction they Bastion’s orbiting. When they shoot, their weapons are going to have acceleration due to gravity on their side. We’re facing backwards, relative to the Bastion, which means we have to fire against our own vector. It’s like we’re fighting uphill, to put it in planetside . If they attack the Bastion from the other direction, they give away their only advantage against an enemy fighting from a defensive position. Secondly, communications. Our ships move in an arc due to the gravity because they have mass, but neutrino signals go in a straight line,” he mimed with the edge of his hand, “which means unless they keep their fleet fairly close together, they’ll be sending signals out into deep space. Plus we’d be able to scramble their channels if they split their fleet on either side of us.” Kit scratched at his multi-coloured hair. “This is going to be confusing.” “Only in theory. Once the shots start coming, it’ll make more sense. The funny thing is, this actually makes it more like a flat, planetside battlefield than you might image. Smaller craft can use higher or lower orbits and are quick enough to manoeuvre between them, but most ships of the line are going to want to hold their orbit to keep things simple.” Ajax sat down in the chair next to Emily, looking satisfied with his little lecture. “Thanks for that, Commander. And now we know the basic theory – what do you think our strategy should be?” “We’re badly outnumbered,” he said, “which means refused flank.” He motioned with his hands again. “Draw the fleet in tighter so Dracon can’t bring his whole force to bear on us. Only engaging him along part of the battle line negates his numerical advantage, at least somewhat.” “But he’ll expect that.” “True.”

“So how would you defeat that tactic?” Ajax thought about it. “I’d ignore everything I just said about holding a stable orbit and bring as many ships into the fray as I could. Space is an infinite battlefield: he can swing around the wings on his flanks and trap us.” Emily nodded. “Right. And what would you do then?” “I’d feint,” Ajax smiled. “I’d split the fleet, feign like he’d broken through our lines and we’d gotten out of position. With this ragtag flotilla of ours, that’ll be even easier to pull off. I don’t know if these guys could retreat in good order if they were told to. So we make it look like we’re running, then swing around and come at them from behind. Trap them between us and the Bastion. Classic hammer and anvil.” He mashed his hands together. “Makes sense,” Emily said, leaning back in the chair and watching the Spacefleet ships again. Huge battlecruisers made up the hard core of each wing, with squadrons of escorts and destroyers, carriers launching waves of fighters and maybe even assault craft if they decided to try and board the Bastion. Those big Titan-class monsters – dozens of them, with three up-gunned versions, one of which was undoubtedly Dracon’s flagship – were scattered across the huge cloud of vessels. They’d be the lynchpins. “Captain,” Reeve said from the comms terminal, “I’m getting a transmission from one of the Spacefleet ships. It’s identified itself as the Cronus.” “Dracon,” Ajax said. “No doubt. Ignore it,” she told Reeve. “It may be too late to stop this,” Ajax said quietly, “but it’s always worth opening up negotiation channels. He’s still Dracon.” He was his XO once and, like Patrick, she’d called him uncle. But she didn’t want to talk to him for a very good reason. “He had his chance. He brought a hundred-thousand battleships here and it wasn’t for a damn pleasure cruise. He destroyed Jotun and, if those officers back on the Bastion are to be believed, Pegasus III too. Whoever he once was to us, he isn’t that man anymore.” “What’s our plan, Emily?” her father asked her.

She looked down at the glowing holodisplay projected from her chair. It showed the order of battle he and Patrick had drawn up. Ragtag their fleet might be, but they’d done a good job of ordering it into squadrons and wings and had them deploy optimally between the Bastion and the enemy. “Refused flank it is. Signal the fleet to tighten their formations. We present the smallest target we can. They can only fire so many guns at us. Let’s just hope Dracon takes the bait.” “He might guess what we’re going to do, Captain,” Ajax said. “He’s seen me use these tactics before.” She smiled grimly and steepled her fingers before her. “I’m counting on it.”

***

Jilly was tense as she watched the fleets move into position on the visual readout of the holoscreen and the schematic on the table display. She had some crew from The Sunskimmer with her, Boloo and the injured Glo, as well as Lieutenant Una by her side. She’d made her her XO, at least for the duration of the battle. She didn’t plan to stay on this Bastion for long. “Captain Ajax has ordered the fleet to tighten its lines. She’s trying to stop them bringing their numbers to bear,” Glo guessed. He still looked a little pale but was determined to be involved with this fight. His wounds were healing well, but he’d probably always carry some scars. “For now,” Jilly said, “we hold our fire. The Captain wants us to the fleet. I expect our docking ports to be busy as ships move in and out of the fighting.” Space battles could last for days: everything was conducted in a stately dance in the vacuum. “We have the guns to defend ourselves,” Una said. She had a hard expression on her face. Jilly had learnt that she was from Pegasus III. Her whole family had lived there. “But not enough crew to operate them. Until Dracon’s ships are bearing down on us, we can’t rely on AI to target them properly.” “By then they’ll be close enough to launch boarding parties.” Jilly’s stomach turned a somersault, but she kept herself composed. “If it comes to that, it comes to that.” “The station has the means to repel an invasion force,” Boloo said, “although not without cost. We can jettison entire sections.” Una grimaced. “And kill our own people.”

“Exactly,” he said. “It won’t come to that. We fought off Darkstar Raiders, we can fight off Spacefleet Marines.” No one else around the table looked that convinced. “All we can do now is wait,” she added. “Captain Ajax has everything under control, I’m certain.” “No plan survives with the enemy, as Cap…uh…Commander Ajax used to say,” Glo said. “If I know Emily, her plan will be very…fluid.” “Do you trust that woman?” Una asked her. “I’ve known her since we were both little girls. I’d be lying if I said she’d never led me astray, but there’s only one more capable commander in the galaxy and he’s sitting next to her. The numbers might be against us, but I like our odds.”

***

Dracon watched too, stroking his beard contemplatively as he thought through his own plan of attack. The refused flank was of course the best strategy in this situation, but he had the numbers to defeat it, although it would cost his fleet. While he redeployed to surround the smaller force, some of his ships would be effectively defenceless, concentrating on their course and speed, unable to hit anything with their guns while they moved. But in the end, he’d have the strength to break them. “Sir, shall I order the fleet to engage?” Hart asked him from her place by his side. “Yes. But have delta and gamma wings break formation and come in on their flanks.” “Sir?”

“They want to take us on piecemeal. They won’t get that chance.” “Very good, Lord iral.” She relayed the orders through her interface. “These are smugglers and pirates: they’ll break as soon as they lose a few ships.” Dracon smiled coldly. “Yes, I’m certain they will. I fully expect them to scatter like petals in the wind, leaving the Bastion to defend itself. And then Ajax will think he has me.” “Sir?” “Don’t worry, commander, everything is under control. Tell alpha and sigma wings to engage. All squadrons to adopt echelon formation towards the star. Engage targets at will, but concentrate on the smaller ships.” Hart frowned. “The smaller ships, sir?” “Speed is their only advantage, Commander. I intend to rob them of that.” He sat back and pointed towards the holoscreen. “Begin.”

***

The Spacefleet ships surged forward. From The Sunskimmer’s bridge, they seemed to be moving slowly, but Emily knew they were coming towards them at thousands of kilometres an hour. The screen filled with data points as the first salvoes were launched and she dismissed the text annotations with an angry wave. “Tell everyone to return fire!” she barked at Reeve. “Ion cannons – anything with range!” “Any priorities, Captain?” Reeve asked archly. “No. Just shoot anything. I don’t think we’ll make a dent, but tell them to shoot one of those three modified Titans if they can. If we take out the flagship, that might be enough to collapse their line.”

“Don’t count on it,” Ajax murmured. “I’m not.” The two fleets moved towards each other at seemingly glacial pace. Fire filled the intervening space: volleys of fire streaked through the darkness, contrails leaving bright green-blue ribbons of ionised gas which then blossomed into orange fire as they punched through magnetic shields and impacted against starship hulls. Emily watched as a frigate to starboard was sent spiralling out of formation, losing its orbit and falling helplessly down towards Typhon. Their own bombardment caused only the bright flicker of damage to shield integrity. As they closed, railguns unleashed their terrible fury and great antiphoton lances sent out pulses of crackling energy. Now explosions rocked the Spacefleet line. Fighter wings were lost in city-sized firestorms and one of their cruisers started to break apart under the concentrated fire of two enemy destroyers. “Is this how it always is?” she asked her father. “In the beginning. When we get close, things are going to get pretty hairy.” She felt the impact of a shot hitting them, somewhere to port and aft and there was a momentary flicker on the holoscreen. “Hit on deck forty-six,” Halib said. “Shields still holding.” “Well, any hope that Dracon might have been planning to keep us alive is out of the airlock I guess,” Emily sighed, “Kit, full power to the engines. I want to do some damage before we have to start running. Reeve; tell our wing to follow us in. We’re going to take out that destroyer squadron.” As the fleets closed the distance and the battle lines merged, Emily began to understand what her father had meant. The screen was suddenly full of moving targets. Although they might all be in the same general orbit, even slight manoeuvres sent ships flying past them and now weapons’ fire was everywhere, adding further elements of chaos. An enemy destroyer’s shields overloaded just in front of them with a flash of magnetic . The sudden discharge sent the entire huge vessel into a tailspin and suddenly they had an engine port swinging straight for them. Kit pulled them out of its path and it careered past them, straight into the teeth of their own wing’s guns, which reduced it to a flaming hulk in seconds. The Sunskimmer itself unleashed volley after volley from its overgunned prow, shattering shields with antiphoton blasts before

pulverising hulls with close-range plasma charges and railguns. A fearsome dreadnought, armed with banks of ion cannons, loomed into their path and the screen flashed white from the weight of fire. “Shields took a big hit!” Halib yelled over the shaking bridge. “Return fire!” As the screen cleared, they could see the dreadnought’s own shields failing as The Sunskimmer, The Porcupine and another cruiser concentrated their fire on it. Explosions erupted along its hull as they roared towards it and Emily’s heart was in her mouth as it broke up around them. They ed straight through the smouldering wreckage, debris causing energy bursts across their shields. “We can’t take much more,” Halib informed her. “How’s the rest of the fleet holding up?” she asked. “Making a good of itself, it seems.” Reeve replied, “They seem to have opened up a few gaps in the enemy lines.” “They’re all experienced captains,” Ajax said approvingly, “but Dracon has reserves.” “And there are two wings coming at us from the flanks,” Reeve said with a slight twist of her scarred lips. “We’re going to be surrounded soon.” As if on cue, the cruiser to starboard careered across their path, trailing huge plumes of plasma fire behind it. A cluster of escorts, ing a massive Titanclass battleship, were chasing it down from a high angle relative to the orbital plane, spearing through their line. The beleaguered cruiser was breaking apart and lifeboats being jettisoned – they were unlikely to survive long in the chaotic battle. “Shoot at that Titan!” Emily ordered. Their shots glanced off its shields as it moved abeam past them, but they managed to take out one of the much smaller escorts and it was sent tumbling end over end along a new trajectory. Everywhere Emily looked, ships from both sides were being thrown flaming in all directions, some even crashing into one another in spectacular fireballs, despite the vast distances between them. There were thousands upon thousands of ships in the battle and trying to imagine the

immense loss of life was impossible. The anarchic scene was also eerily silent. She felt like it ought to sound like an immense thunderstorm, but of course it didn’t. “Direct hit to our port engine,” Halib said through gritted teeth as another blast rocked them. “Damage reports coming in from a few decks.” “Do we still have shields?” “Only on a few sections. Another hit and we’re going to be in trouble.” Emily tried to make sense of the battle on the schematic, but the thousands of colour-coded dots representing the forces were now overlapping so it was impossible to get any idea of what was going on. She shook her head and looked back at the holoscreen instead. Ships were still spinning past them and another impact which could have been a shot or a piece of debris hitting them almost knocked her out of her chair. As a smouldering cruiser ed in front of them, the scene momentarily cleared and Emily got a look at the enemy fleet, still coming towards them, rank after rank of ships still waiting to engage. This was only the first wave. “Emily? Time for some strategy,” her father said. He sounded concerned. “Agreed. Order the fleet to break formation. Let Dracon think he’s broken through.” Emily could only see it in the schematic, but out there in space, her whole fleet split into its disparate squadrons and powered out of the orbit, as if they were fleeing a battle they were losing. “Let’s hope he bites,” Ajax said. The Spacefleet ships surged forward towards the Bastion in the gap they’d left them, their captains ignoring orders to follow their instincts.

***

“Here we go,” Jilly said. Her own screen had filled with enemy ships as Emily’s fleet broke apart. Now there was nothing between them but open space. “Target all our weapons as best you can, Boloo. Shouldn’t be too hard – there’s got to be more than ten-thousand ships closing on us.” “No problem, Commander,” he said with a slight smile. He was a scientist rather than an engineer, but he knew what he was doing. The screen erupted as the Bastion’s immense batteries opened fire. Shots went wild, directed by primitive AI, but the sheer weight of fire ed for hundreds of direct hits. Entire frigate squadrons consumed in seconds, and even a mighty Titan-class was sent sprawling out of formation, trailing plasma. “They’ll dash themselves to pieces against us,” Una said, satisfaction obvious in her voice. “Maybe,” Jilly said. “But they have plenty more ships, and somehow I don’t think Dracon is stupid enough to send them against us piecemeal.”

***

“Order the vanguard to hold their positions,” Dracon barked, nearly standing up out of his chair. “I never told them to engage the Bastion!” “That’s our objective though, isn’t it, sir?” Hart asked. She sounded confused. “I’ll tell you what our objectives are! Alpha and sigma wings hold out of range of that station. Delta, gamma and theta wings are to pursue the enemy fleet.” “But they’re already broken, sir.” “They aren’t broken,” Dracon sneered. “It’s a feint. Ajax has done this before; he

must think I’m a fool. Those ships will regroup behind us and then we’ll be surrounded. Continue to engage them. The Bastion isn’t going anywhere.”

***

The Sunskimmer and a few other ships screamed down towards the dully glowing photosphere of Typhon, a squadron of enemy in close pursuit. A few shots flashed past them, but at that speed they didn’t find their targets. “Dracon’s fleet are pursuing us,” Reeve said. “They didn’t take the bait.” “Oh yes they did. Order our ships down into close orbit of the star and tell them to start powering up their tidal drives.” Ajax stared at her. “We’re running?” “Yes, but not far. Just once around Typhon and back again. Some good old fashioned sublight physics – we’re going to slingshot around and then climb back into the station’s orbit and come at them from behind the Bastion. The tidal drives are just for the look of the thing.”

***

“They’re powering their tidal drives, sir,” Hart told Dracon. She was looking down at her interface with a frown. “They appear to be fleeing the system.” Dracon raised his eyebrows. “Ajax normally stands his ground. Maybe he’s turning pragmatic in his old age. He’s obviously decided to sacrifice the Bastion.” He stroked his beard again. “Abandon the pursuit. We’ll never be able

to track all those ships. Bring all force to bear on the Bastion.”

***

Una gaped at the holographic schematic. “They’re leaving us.” Jilly licked her lips nervously. “I’m sure Emily has something up her sleeve.” “Maybe so,” Boloo said. “In the meantime we’re on our own.” “Put everything we have into shields and weapons. Fire at will.” “If I’d had more time to figure out that generator on level one, we’d be laughing,” he sighed. “Even so, we have a lot of firepower,” Jilly said. “Let’s hope it’s enough.” The fleet charged into the teeth of the huge station and once again space filled with weapons’ fire. Explosions erupted across the Bastion’s black, angled surfaces and ships were sent careering through space in flames. Hundreds were annihilated in a single volley, but there were more behind them. More and more. Unimaginable numbers of ships and Dracon seemed happy to expend the lives of their crews with impunity. “Three hours,” Jilly reminded herself. “Three hours and you’d better have something bloody good to get us out of this mess, Emily.”

EIGHTEEN

Dracon paced irritably up and down the raised walkway which led to his command chair on the bridge of the Cronus. The actual battle had been over in less than an hour, but now the waiting for his fleet to manoeuvre into position in its aftermath was interminable. Squadrons had to be reorganised as order was restored to the line. Wings of ships were amalgamated and hastily reorganised. A fleet required an order of battle to function even if it was a rough and ready one. Commander Hart entered the bridge and presented him with an interface. “Casualty projections, sir,” she said grimly. Projections, for the true death toll they’d sustained was impossible to ascertain at this early stage. On the panoramic holoscreen, hulks of massive battleships still smouldered in the black of space, being towed out of their path by transports and stocky tugs launched by carrier ships. Dracon examined the interface without interest. “Thirty per cent of our ships crippled or adrift,” he said with a snarl, ing it back to her. “The enemy ships appeared to be well-crewed, sir.” “In any other battle, the loss of thirty-thousand vessels would be unimaginable. It is the merest taste of the war that has begun here today. That is Ajax’s legacy to the Four Quadrants.” He pointed at the looming, eerily geometric shape rotating slowly dead ahead. “The Bastion inflicted most of the damage. We must take it at all costs.” “Sir, by our calculations, it will take some hours to disable the station and it may cost a further third of our forces. Perhaps, now that Ajax has fled, we could begin negotiations?” Dracon turned and stared at her until she stepped away, cowed. “There will be no negotiation,” he announced, looking back at the screen. “I do not avenge the deaths of a hundred-thousand or more loyal Spacefleet crew with diplomacy. I will have that Bastion.” Something she’d said occurred to him then and he

turned back to Hart, almost making her jump. “Ajax – do you have a reading on his ship? Or any of the others?” “We detected their tidal drives charging sir, but when they crossed the star’s horizon, the photosphere made further scans unreliable.” “Can you track their gravitic wakes? I want to know where he’s run to. When the Bastion is ours, I intend to hunt him down like the dog he is.” “Sensors have been scrambled by all the energy discharge around us, sir. I can dispatch lambda wing to investigate if you wish. They took the brunt of the fighting – they’re in no fit state to continue in the front line.” “It doesn’t matter. I can’t spare any ships for this assault.” He gestured to the screen. “Form up the fleet surrounding the Bastion on all sides, spread as thinly as possible so they have to split their fire. Commence bombardment as soon as our ships are in position. Once the shields in the lower sections have been destroyed, begin launching assault craft.” “You intend to board the Bastion, sir?” Dracon climbed up to his chair and sat down, rearranging his uniform and planting his hands firmly down on the exquisite wooden arms of the sweeping throne. “I don’t intend to board anything until everyone on the station able to hold a gun is dead or in chains. But the only way to take a facility that size and leave it intact is to board it.” “Would you like a casualty projection for that strategy, sir?” “Why?” “For the report, Lord iral. To Spacefleet HQ? Protocol demands risk projections for all fleet actions of this scale.” “Spacefleet protocol is currently being exercised at my discretion, Commander. Inform all ships with assault boats to ready their launch bays. I intend to finish this as soon as possible.” Hart glanced at the screen. The Bastion’s scale was obvious even at this distance. Its vast weapon banks were currently inert, but she’d seen what they could do.

Inside, hundreds of levels of labyrinthine corridors would need to be subdued, metre by metre. Taking the station would be a brutal, bloody affair. She swallowed and started tapping the Lord iral’s orders into her interface.

***

The hours dragged by as Jilly watched Dracon’s fleet surround them. They were powerless to do anything about it – the only ships docked at the Bastion were sublight cogs, shuttles and a few stalwart merchant ships whose crews were sheltering in the depths of the immense station, probably already well into the mother of all drinking binges in some dingy bar built into the mouldering Cthonian bulkheads. All she could do was wait and watch and prepare for the inevitable assault. “Damage was fairly minimal,” Boloo informed her. The reports had taken a long time to filter back from the lower levels. The Bastion was a city in space, and the logistics were just as bewildering, even with sensors showing everything that went on its confines. “A few sections decompressed. We don’t have a casualty list. The truth is, Hydra wasn’t very good at keeping track of who lives here.” “This is a free station,” Una said defensively. “We don’t keep tabs on residents.” “It’s not going to be free for much longer if Dracon gets his way,” Jilly said. “Have you had any luck getting more power to the shields?” “I took a look at the main computer core, but the systems are still the original Cthonian ones so far as I can tell. Truth is, I don’t think the star engine or whatever it is can be controlled from here. We’d need to go to the source.” Jilly glanced up at the blur of light on the screen that was all that could be made out of the Hades Cluster, six fearsome neutron stars, with an arcane device at its heart which somehow harnessed their vast gravitational power. It was a light year away – a short jaunt in a starship, but an impossible distance while they were stuck here, surrounded by an enemy fleet. “Well that’s out of the question,” she said. “We’ll just have to make do with what we have.” Glo gestured to the schematic on the table between them. “They’re spreading out. It’s going to be hard to hit anything out there.”

Boloo sighed. “The AI can lock onto engine signatures, but unless they’re packed pretty thickly, they’re not going to do much damage.” “We just have to hold.” An ominous silence seemed to fall at that moment, although nothing had changed. The scene of the gathering vessels was soundless as ever, but as they stopped moving, the galaxy seemed to hold its breath. Then, somewhere far below, an impact that felt like little more than a cup tumbling off a table in another room. Enough to raise a head and an enquiring eyebrow perhaps. Boloo looked at the schematic of the Bastion. “They’ve begun bombarding the lower levels.” “Shields?” “Holding. For now.” More impacts, a little heavier now, accompanied by a haze ing across the imaginary eye of the holoscreen. The ships closest were unleashing fire, great bolts of fury from close-range ion cannons. Railgun volleys streaked from the prows of the glowering Spacefleet ships. The forces being unleashed outside were apocalyptic, but here in the command centre, protected by the Bastion’s most powerful shield banks, they were insulated from it. The assault outside played out in complete silence. “Return fire,” Jilly said. She watched fire from the station rake at the enemy ships. Most of it went far astray, fading into the void, but some found targets and caused their magnetic shields to shimmer. Smaller ships sustained more severe damage and Jilly smiled with satisfaction as a frigate was torn apart by a lucky hit from a massive railgun. She ordered the view changed to Dracon’s flagship, the enormous modified Titan-class in the centre of his line. Its prow crackled with energy as it discharged its weapons into their hull. “Try to target that ship,” she told Boloo. “I’ll see what I can do.” Plasma charges hurtled downwards from a launcher high on the Bastion. Most of the barrage missed by hundreds of kilometres but one scored a direct hit to the dorsal hull, causing a flickering of their shields. The bombardment continued unabated.

***

The Sunskimmer was true to its name as it arced across Typhon’s photosphere. The glowing red horizon blurred beneath them and great plumes of plasma were thrown into the air all around them. A fighter to starboard flew straight into one and was reduced to a charred cinder in microseconds, which continued to follow the same path the ship had for a few seconds before crumbling into glowing pieces and crashing into the star’s depths. Emily could feel the heat, even though the dozens of decks between here and the ventral hull of the ship. “Status, Halib.” “Shields are almost gone. Much more of this and we go the same way as that fighter.” “And the rest of the fleet?” “Keeping up, but almost in as bad shape as us.” “We’re nearly around the star, Captain,” Kit informed her from the helm. It was taking all his skill to keep their course even. The tidal drive was still charging and the ship bucked and rolled, trying to convert all that stored energy into transluminal velocity. Emily sat back and breathed deeply. It had been a torturous few hours. Even at close orbit and in a kilometres-long starship, traversing a star took some time. But now they were coming around the horizon and beyond that was the Typhon Bastion, hopefully still withstanding the siege. “This is going to work, Emily,” her father said to her quietly. “I hope so.” “Don’t hope – know. You’re the captain. You have to be sure of yourself.” Emily thought about it. She’d always been sure of herself before all this. She ed the angry, self-righteous girl back in orbit of Osiris Prime, wanting

nothing more than the moon she believed was rightfully hers by right of birth. Another jewel in the crown of a spoiled princess. As she looked around the bridge, she caught sight of a small object glittering on the floor near Kit’s chair. She frowned and then realised what it was: a link from a Meccite warrior-hulk’s armour. A good luck charm Kit always used to keep on his person. It had probably dropped out of his pocket days ago and he hadn’t even noticed. It was a symbol of a former life, now lost forever. “We’re coming into visual range,” Reeve said. “Signal the rest of the fleet to come in tight behind us. We’re going to drop out of the sky like a flaming comet.”

***

Systems were failing across the Bastion now. The lights flickered in the command centre and Jilly glanced up nervously. “Report,” she murmured. Glo shook his head. “We’ve evacuated everyone we can from the outer sections. We have Hydra troops taking up positions, but there aren’t enough of them to hold this station, Commander.” “They’ll hold,” Una said. “Against Spacefleet Marines?” Boloo asked. She had no answer to that. Jilly looked up at the holoscreen. The image was disrupted by waves of static now as the sensors were clouded by the volumes of energy being discharged outside. Nonetheless, she could make out the launch bays of the flagship opening and assault boats drifting out towards them. The other capital ships were doing the same, each small vessel filled with Marines, no doubt carrying the most advanced railguns. Soon they’d breach the hull and then they’d be in the corridors, wreaking carnage. The loss of life on both sides would be unimaginable, but she couldn’t imagine the Enforcers standing their ground

under that kind of onslaught. “What are your orders, Commander?” Glo asked her. “No orders,” she said. “We hold, that’s all.” Victory would not come from within this Bastion. She knew that. But there was still no sign of Emily, and those assault boats were coming fast. They were trapped in here, powerless, with the heat rising. She tugged at her collar and tried to control her breathing. Another barrel, like back on Parth Majoris. They were all barrels, just different shapes and sizes. This one was a massive pyramid, but it didn’t matter. “Commander?” Una was looking at her. She was clearly concerned. “Get to the weapons locker,” Jilly said. Her own voice sounded far away to her. “Help might never come and we can fight as well as anyone in the lower levels. This Bastion won’t fall without a fight.” Outside, the tiny boats kept coming.

***

Dracon allowed himself to feel a small twinge of pleasure – even excitement – as he watched his assault boats drift towards the Bastion’s hull. Its surface was now scored with heavy damage from his fleet’s weapons; great smouldering rents and gashes torn across its mighty triangular walls. The shields had failed in the lower levels and they were vulnerable to this assault. It wouldn’t be long until the corridors ran with blood. He had no doubt many Marines and other Spacefleet troops would die, but he always had more. They crowded in their thousands in the bellies of his transport ships. He would defeat this enemy by weight of numbers alone if it came to it and replenish his losses in a matter of months by heavy conscription across the sector. This would be a glorious victory for the Free Planets. “Sir,” Hart said, interrupting his thoughts. “The Bastion’s weapons appear to be

almost spent.” Only a few of the short-range turrets were flaring now, trying to hit the assault boats. A few were destroyed in the ensuing blasts, but hundreds more were still coming. “Excellent. This should be over soon enough.” “Shall I drop the forward shields so we can open the remaining launch bays?” she asked. Dracon nodded. “Yes. Why waste time? I’m sure our brave men and women in the boarding parties will fight all the harder knowing that reinforcements are just behind them.” Launching craft was always problematic as it compromised a ship’s magnetic shielding, but this was no time for prudence. There was a shimmer across the holoscreen as the shields were deactivated. An alert buzzed on the interface Hart carried and she glanced down at it. “That’s strange.” “Hm?” Dracon looked down at her. His dais raised him a good half a metre above her. “Something wrong, Commander?” “Theta wing reports some odd sensor readings towards Typhon.” “What sort of readings?” “Engine signatures, sir.” “What engine signatures?” He felt a dull weight in the pit of his stomach. “Impossible to tell through the photosphere’s interference. But it looks like several thousand ships.” A growl rumbled in Dracon’s throat. “What ships?” “I…I don’t know, sir…” “Is it another fleet?” “I don’t…” “If you say that again,” he roared, “I’ll tear your throat out with my bare hands!”

He surged to his feet. The bridge had fallen ominously silent as the dozens of officers present carefully averted their gazes. He stalked towards the holoscreen. “It can’t be Ajax! The only star within range is ten light years away and even his bloody ship can’t have gotten there and back by now!” He rounded on one of the sensor officers in the pit at his feet. “Give me a visual, you fucking moron!” “Yes, sir,” he squeaked. The holoscreen showed nothing at first, just the horizon of Typhon, automatically filtered into visibility by sensors. But there was a cluster of glowing sparks above it, like burning embers thrown out by the raging star. They were coming towards them, and coming fast. Hart was at his elbow again. “Sir…we have a positive reading…that’s the enemy fleet…they didn’t go to light-speed…” Dracon’s mouth fell open as he stared at them. “That bastard,” he said. “Orders, Lord iral?” He blinked and then snapped back to his senses. “Scramble the fleet! Defensive formations!” “Sir, that’ll take hours, and most of our cruisers are still launching assault boats.” “Get our shields up!” he bellowed. “We can’t, sir, the launch bays are still open.” Dracon whirled. On the ‘screen, he could now make out the familiar shape of The Sunskimmer, hurtling straight towards them.

***

They were coming in at an adverse orientation to the enemy fleet and the Bastion

so, to Emily, it looked like the huge station was hanging upside down, its point at the bottom. Around it was a swarm of ships, tiny from this vantage, still sending out lances of white fire. Halib said there were assault boats being launched, but they couldn’t see them at this range. “What’s the status of our fleet?” she asked. She was standing in front of her chair, riding out the trembling deck as she once had what felt like centuries ago when she’d first commanded The Sunskimmer. “Still behind us for the most part,” Halib said. “Tell them to concentrate fire on the biggest ships.” “We’ve got them right where we want them, Captain,” Ajax said from his seat behind her. “They’re out of position, vulnerable, shields down to launch their boats.” “It worked,” Emily breathed. “Not yet.” “I thought you told me I should be confident?” “You have to be confident – I have to be the voice of reason.” He grinned lopsidedly as she turned to him. “Emily,” Kit shouted over the rumbling bridge, temporarily forgetting their hastily-adopted protocol. “We’re carrying a lot of energy in the tidal drive!” “So discharge it.” “I wouldn’t do that,” Halib said. “If we vent that plasma into space it’s going to blow the hull to pieces. We have no shields.” Ajax rubbed his moustache. “Flying into the heart of an enemy fleet with no shields. Even I never tried that one.” She rounded on him. “All right, Commander, you got any better ideas?” “Shunt the power into the main ion cannon.”

“Are you serious?!” Halib asked him. “That will definitely rip us to atoms…” He turned slightly in his chair to look at her. “How do you think Patrick got the guns to work on this thing? By all rights we should tear ourselves apart every time we fire so much as a laser turret. The engine conduits feed right into the weapon cells. You can direct all that plasma straight into the prow if you disengage the exchange safeties.” He winked at Emily. “Should be a hell of a lightshow, kid.” “Do it,” she told Halib. Then she leant across Kit and pointed at the ‘screen. The Bastion and the besieging force were looming larger now. “See that big ugly ship up front?” “Uh huh…” “I’d bet good credits that’s the Cronus. Aim us straight towards it.” “Aim us?” “We’re going to be firing on the move,” she said as she went back to her chair and sat down. She could feel the trembling subside as Halib rerouted the power in the tidal drive, ignoring the buzzing alerts as she did, but now there was a feeling of pregnant peril from the fore section as the ion cannon’s power cells were pumped full of super-heated plasma. “Dangerous, Captain,” Ajax said. “Straight line,” she mimed with her hand. “Simplest manoeuvre there is. When we get close enough, unleash hell.” Fire was already scything out of the sky as the rest of their fleet closed in. Dracon’s fleet lumbered to intercept. Assault boats were set adrift as their hulking motherships abandoned them to the void in an effort to bring their weapons to bear in time. Explosions lit up the blackness of space again and ships began to fall towards Typhon in flames. The Sunskimmer led the blazing charge, still holding its fire as the two fleets merged once again. Now fire was being exchanged and she knew her beleaguered allies, their shields already damaged by their jaunt in the photosphere, would be taking heavy damage. The Cronus was dead ahead. The gaping launch bays in its fore section were open to space. Its entire prow was unprotected.

“Sir?” Kit said. “Hold course.” She raised her hand. The Cronus filled the screen even though it was still thousands of kilometres distant. They were flying straight towards it, the power still building in their prow. Just a little closer: they’d only get one chance at this. The launch bay was starting to close and she could see the magna studs on the prow starting to power up. Soon, their shields would be raised again. Just a little closer. “Captain.” A little closer… “Emily!” “FIRE!” she bellowed. The burst of white light from the ion cannon overwhelmed the sensor’s filters. They all threw their hands across their eyes and turned away from the holoscreen. The whole ship seemed to judder as it discharged a star orbit’s worth of harvested power into the open launch bays of Dracon’s flagship. When Emily could look back again, blinking away the purple streak across her vision, she saw the extent of the damage. Explosions ripped across the Cronus and she could see the keel crack under the pressure. The massive ship literally buckled in two and arched its inflexible spine like a wounded beast as the competing momentums of its now separated parts tore it to pieces. Kit whooped triumphantly as he carried them upwards into an arc that skimmed the smouldering wreckage. Around them, Dracon’s fleet was in disarray.

***

Plasma fires burned across the Cronus’s bridge. Officers and runners lay slumped at their stations, dead from discharges from their terminals or falling debris as the domed ceiling caved in above their heads. The clones in front of the holoscreen were all dead from into their semi-mechanical brains. Dracon hauled himself free from the ruin of his chair and staggered up to his feet. Hart was by his side. “Sir! The lifeboats!” “Lifeboats?” He gestured furiously at the flickering holoscreen. The scene was one of chaos as the renegade fleet ran rampant through his lines, slaughtering at will. “How long do you calculate lifeboats will survive out there?” “We might be able to shuttle across to another cruiser and escape.” He backhanded her casually across the jaw and sent her flying across the raised walkway. She landed in a crumpled heap several metres away. “Escape?” he growled in a low voice. “There is no escape from this. Not for you, Ajax. It ends here, today. That is our destiny.” He dragged himself towards the bridge’s exit. His two Marine bodyguards were still there, standing guard to the end, albeit crouched down, sheltering themselves from the carnage. “Sergeant,” he said, addressing the more senior of the two, “gather your squad. Meet me on whatever’s left of deck ten.” He turned and looked out at the ruin of his mighty flagship, the pride of the Spacefleet. His gaze alighted on Hart, crawling up to her feet, blood trickling from her mouth. She stared at him with her wide, pretty eyes. “Time for plan B,” he said curtly and swept through the doors, leaving this ship and everyone on it to their fate.

***

The Sunkimmer swung around again, raking at a damaged dreadnought with its railguns and sending it ploughing into a fighter squadron, trailing plasma behind it in great flaming clouds. Across the entire vista before the glowering shape of the Bastion, the story was the same. Dracon’s ships fleeing or destroyed, assault boats shot down before they could make landing, destruction in all directions. But their fleet was faring little better. Already heavily damaged

and outnumbered, and now being pummelled by a vicious fighting retreat by the pride of Spacefleet. Reeve grunted as she read the data on her console. “The Porcupine is dead in space.” “Then bring us around so we can help them out,” Emily said. “We’re not much better off,” Halib reported. “Emily,” her father said suddenly. She looked up and saw the Cronus fill the screen again. It was a blazing hulk now, obviously about to crumble into little more than a charred debris field, but something was detaching itself from its ventral hull, a small ship of some kind. From its oversized aft section came the tell-tale blue glow of a tidal drive. “What the hell is that?” “Some kind of shuttle,” Halib guessed. “A shuttle with a tidal drive?” Kit was incredulous, and with good reason. Even with the fastest engine, transluminal travel took days or weeks between stars. A shuttle couldn’t carry the requisite supplies of food or atmosphere. Nonetheless, the vessel was tiny, surely only big enough to carry a dozen crew. “It’s headed for Typhon,” Ajax said, pointing. Reeve shook her head. “Why? The nearest star is ten light years away. Where can anyone go in a ship that size?” “It’s Dracon,” Emily said with grim certainty, “and he doesn’t need to go ten light years. Only one.” “The Hades Cluster,” her father guessed. “That’s why his ship’s small – anything larger would be ripped to pieces by the gravity.” “Exactly.” Reeve leaned across her console. “But what does he want at the Hades Cluster?”

“The star engine,” Emily explained. “That’s the key to the Bastion, the source of all its power. If he takes control of that, he can power down the whole station, or maybe overload it and destroy it.” “But he needs the Bastion to build his ships.” Ajax laughed hollowly. “Sure, but he’ll take just the star engine as a consolation prize, I’m certain. Dracon was always a great one for backup plans.” Emily slammed her fist into the arm of her chair. “We can’t let him take control of it.” Ajax shook his head. “We can’t follow him – all our ships are too large. They’d never survive the Hades Cluster.” “Not even The Sunskimmer?” “I’ve taken her close to a neutron star before now, but six? We’d be torn apart, especially with no shields and our hull coming apart at the seams.” “This can’t be the end, not after we’ve come so close.” “We’d need something as small as a shuttle to get to that star engine,” Ajax said. “But at sublight speeds it’d take us years to get there.” Emily ran her hands through her hair and stared at the screen in despair. The Cronus was breaking up now, more fires blossoming in its wreckage as its decks shattered and plasma spilled out into space. She could only imagine the horror on board. No time to think about that now. Her gaze drifted up to the Bastion, still titanic and monolithic in space, a weirdly regular pyramid that wrenched the eye. So vast. So much power. “Wait, that engine in the Bastion’s base, the one linked to the star engine…” “Emily?” Her father was looking at her. “ when we saw the schematic and you said it looked like a giant tidal drive, Reeve?” Reeve nodded. “Sure, but what of it?”

“It is a tidal drive, in principle. It turns and harvests gravitational energy, right?” “Emily, what are you getting at?” Ajax asked. “… in the Nebuchadnezzar system, in the Western Quadrant, dad? They used…uh…” she searched for the word, “…tidal gates for short range travel between the gas giants. Primitive engines locked in orbit that harnessed the energy and sent sublight ships off at transluminal speeds. Like a bolas.” “Sure,” Ajax chuckled, “but they were unstable as heck, ? They lost half their ships in transit.” “A tidal drive just creates a gravitic wake,” Emily went on, ignoring him as she gestured at the screen. “Like the one connecting the Bastion to the Hades Cluster. A ship rides the wake past light speed; the only trick is to keep your physical momentum going in the same direction. If we align ourselves precisely to that wake in a shuttle, we can be at the Cluster in minutes!” “How the hell are you going to do that, Emily?” “We just need to match the velocity of the turbine at the base, change direction at just the right moment and…yeah…we can do it. We have to do it.” She stood up. “No, I have to do it.” He got to his feet and put a hand on her shoulder. “Dracon was my XO. He and I started this. It’s only right we should end it. Besides, I’m a better pilot than you.” “I agree. You fly the shuttle. But I’m going with you.” “You can’t.” “I’m the Captain. What I say goes.” “The Captain doesn’t leave the bridge. Spacefleet protocol, as Dracon always used to tell me.” “You’re going to start listening to that prick now of all times?” She met his eyes and she saw that twinkle in the depths. Old as he was now, this was an adventure. A manoeuvre dangerous enough to splatter them halfway across the

galaxy, ending with a fistfight more than likely. “One thing though.” “What?” He nodded at the screen. Ships still fought out there, exchanging bursts of deadly fire. “The battle isn’t won yet. We might stop Dracon, but it’s all for nothing if Spacefleet takes the Bastion anyway. You need to leave someone in command here.” She looked out across the bridge. Kit had turned in his chair. His eyes were wide. She’d left him in command before, but it wasn’t a natural fit for him, especially in this situation. Halib too looked reluctant to take on the responsibility. Both would step in if she asked them though. Kit was starting to stand up. He was her oldest friend. He’d do this thing, if she asked it, but she knew she couldn’t. “Reeve,” she said, turning to the woman who’d come into her life just a few short months ago, the daughter of the galaxy’s greatest enemy, a man cloned by her father to fight a war that should never have happened. “You have the bridge.” Reeve inclined her head slightly and wordlessly crossed from her console to the captain’s chair. She took her seat and it looked right on her. Her father too was looking around. His eyes were misty, far away. “This is a good ship,” he said softly. “She’s in safe hands, dad,” Emily told him, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m sure she is.” Together, they left and headed for the shuttle bay. Reeve ran a finger across her scarred jaw and eyed the enemy ships out there, waiting for her.

***

On the Bastion, it was almost impossible to keep track of events outside. The holoscreen had long ago failed and the holo-display set in the table was flickering on and off at random. Sensors were almost totally scrambled. “I think…I think some of the assault boats have landed, but it’s no more than a few dozen troops.” Glo’s console cut out and he slammed a hand against it angrily. “Do we have any indication of the fleet’s status?” Jilly asked. The tension in the air was unbearable. They were sealed in, blind to whatever was going on outside. “Garbled messages,” Boloo said, “I’m picking up transmissions from both sides. It looks like Dracon’s flagship has been destroyed, but one of the other big ships has taken over command and the fleet is rallying around it. They’re trying to mount a counter-attack, maybe just fight their way back to Typhon and run.” “Or wreak bloody vengeance,” Una said. Jilly planted her shaking hands on the table. How many were dead out there? Thousands? Millions? This was the biggest space battle in centuries and she was at the heart of it. Emily had brought salvation streaking from the corona of the star, but it still might not be enough. They had no idea if The Sunskimmer was even still out there fighting. “Can we do anything?” “Guns can’t find any targets without sensors,” Boloo said with a shake of his head. “There must be something we can…” There was a crackle of static from Glo’s blank console and he stared down at it. “Jilly?” a tinny voice said. “Emily? Is that you?” “Glad to hear your voice, Commander.” “Are you…are you okay?” “In one piece, more or less.” “Where are you?”

“In a shuttle.” Her heart skipped a beat. “The Sunskimmer…” “Intact when we left her. Listen, is Boloo there?” “Right here, Captain,” he said with a frown. “Great. You’re a physicist, right?” “Last time I checked.” “And you know how tidal drives work?” “Sure.” “Okay, well I have a rather foolish plan, but I need you to figure out some of the details.” “What kind of plan, Captain?” he asked, scratching his head. “One that needs to be figured in about the next three minutes or so.” They all exchanged a glance around the table. “All right, you’d better explain what you need me to do.” “That generator in the base of the Bastion is like a huge tidal drive, right?” “Basically, yes.” “Right. Good start. I need to use it to catapult my shuttle across the gravitic wake between it and the Hades Cluster. Understand?” Boloo blinked a few times, then started to say something. When nothing came out, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Uh, Captain…I’m not completely sure that’s even possible.” “Sure it is. We just need to match velocity and displacement with the turbine, right?” “Well…yeah, I mean, in theory. But you’d need to get it exactly right and then

turn into the wake just as accurately.” “Can you do the maths?” He puffed out his cheeks. “I...I guess.” “Boloo, let me make things really clear to you: I’m in a two-hundred-year-old tinpot shuttle dodging antiphoton beams in the biggest space battle in recent history, heading right for that generator. If I don’t have someplace to go when I get there, I’m going to be splattered across your hull. So can you maybe do a little better than guessing? That’s an order,” she added like it was an afterthought. “Okay, okay…uh…someone get me a pencil or something.” He started clearing space on the table.

***

“You’re dodging antiphoton beams?” Ajax said as he banked the shuttle past another arc of crackling energy that ed within twenty metres of them. The residual energy absorbed by the shields made Emily’s hair stand on end. “Let’s not quibble over the details.” She leaned over his shoulder, watching through the small holoscreens that were set into the interior wall of the shuttle’s curving prow. The battle raged on around them. She hoped Reeve was doing okay. She should have asked how Jilly was too, but time was of the essence. “Okay,” Boloo’s voice said through their interface, “I think I have this worked out.” “All right, tell us what to do,” Ajax said. “Uh…right…yes, no problem, sir. Okay, bring the shuttle up to the base of the Bastion, right below the generator.”

Emily craned her neck as they flew beneath the massive flat base of the station. She could see the bottom side was studded with uncountable sensor pylons and other arcane systems, looking like the bristling towers of an enormous city, albeit one hanging upside down relative to their position. At its heart though was what looked like a crater, emanating a soft blue glow not normally visible from any other vantage. Ajax banked them up and around so the scene inverted around them. The gravity net buckled a little at the sudden manoeuvre and Emily nearly threw up. When did she last eat anyway? Now the pylons looked even more like a city and they cruised above towering skyscrapers. The round metal walls of the great fissure in the centre loomed ahead of them and Emily could see the waves of energy pulsing outwards, like a smaller version of the dust clouds thrown out by the Hades Cluster. This was the barest fraction of the available power, she suddenly realised. “All right,” Boloo said. “I’m transmitting some coordinates. Follow this path around the edge of the generator port. You need to match your velocity to the one I’m sending now. It has to be exact.” “What’s my margin of error?” Ajax asked as he banked the shuttle into a circular path around the edge of the artificial crater. Emily risked a glimpse into the blueglowing depths beside them, but could make out nothing in the haze. “Uh…zero, sir.” Ajax whistled. “Those have got to be the worst odds I’ve ever come up against.” “You’re going to sort of be acting like a turbine,” Boloo continued. “The body of your shuttle will be collecting physical angular momentum. In a normal tidal drive, that gets converted automatically to a gravitic wake when you change direction. But you guys are going to have to get it just right to ride the wake that already exists.” “Sounds simple enough,” Ajax shrugged. Boloo laughed nervously through the comm link. “Yeah…I’m monitoring your momentum as closely as I can, although our sensors are kind of on the fritz right now. When I give the word, you need to climb straight into the wake. You should actually be able to see it from where you are now.” Emily could indeed – a faint arc of blue light stretching up into the depths of

space. They started to fly faster and faster, moving around the edge of the port at an angle so that now the imaginary city was both above and below them, the claws of some gargantuan monster reaching out from a black wall. The gravity net was struggling to keep their feet on the ground as their speed increased and Emily flattened herself against the interior of the shuttle. She really did feel sick now. “Just say the word, lad,” Ajax said. His teeth were clamped firmly together even as he spoke. She could see his hands shaking on the controls. He had to maintain a precise speed at all times. Even for an experienced pilot, this was almost impossible. Sweat beaded on his brow. “Almost, sir,” Boloo’s crackling voice told them from the interface. The whole shuttle was starting to shake. She could feel them about to fly apart at any moment. “Boloo!” she yelled above the noise. “One more revolution, Captain!” “Easy,” Ajax shouted. “Once more around the asteroid for old time’s sake, right? Let’s do it.” “You need to pull up when you’re exactly ten degrees past the large pylon on your right.” The spires were whipping past them in a blur now. “You might just have to tell us when to do it, Boloo!” Emily told him. “There’s a delay of a few microseconds on this signal, Captain, I’m not going to be able to…” “Bugger this,” Ajax growled suddenly, “I’ve flown enough ships in my time, I know when to kick a drive into gear. Sometimes you have to let the antiphoton decay where it may.” With another yell he slammed the controls forward and the shuttle shot up into the sky. There was a blinding flash of blue light and then the screens went dark and the feed to the Bastion went dead. The shuttle rumbled ominously and then settled. There was no sensation of movement whatsoever. Emily took her hands off the wall and looked around. “Are we…are we at transluminal speed?”

“I…think so.” “Well, this is something, huh?” “Hey, Emily, what happens when we get to the Hades Cluster?” “I guess we find Dracon and stop whatever he’s going.” “No, I mean, how do we stop, exactly?” “Oh…that’s a good question.”

***

Reeve bared her teeth as an enemy frigate skimmed past them, trailing burning plasma in its wake. “Get me weapons!” “I only have a couple of antiphoton lances left!” Halib shouted. There was smoke all over the bridge and sparks raining down from several conduits across the ceiling. The Executive Officer’s chair had been ripped off its base when the last volley had hit. Systems were failing across the ship. “Fire whatever we have at that ship!” As the frigate spun out of their path, another of the modified Titan-classes appeared. A cluster of Spacefleet ships were hanging close by, trying to mount a desperate counter attack. They were taking a heavy toll, despite the damage they’d sustained. “We don’t have anything like enough firepower to take that out,” Kit said. “Even with our guns working,” Halib agreed. “Can they get a lock on us?” “Well, we’re heading right for them.”

“Cloak!” Halib’s eyes went wide. “Cloak?” “Yes! We have a cloaking device don’t we?” “It’ll scramble our sensors and we won’t be able to fire. There’s too much debris and…” “Time for an old Darkstar trick,” Reeve said with a sick smile. “With a little update. We used to use a sensor chaff set to an alternating frequency with our weapon pulses to throw off enemy targeting sensors. Can we raise and lower the cloak that fast?” Halib’s long fingers flew across her console’s holokeys. “You mean raise the cloak, drop it, fire a shot, raise it, drop it, fire again, right?” “Exactly. They’ll never get a lock.” “It’s going to drain a lot of power but it’s possible.” “We won’t need much more power.” She turned to the screen. “Kit, head straight for that ship.” “Straight for it? You mean an intercept course?” “No, I mean ramming speed.” “What?” “You heard me, Lieutenant, or whatever you’re supposed to be now.” “Y…yes, sir.” “Halib, get me that alternating frequency…” “Sir…” To anyone watching The Sunskimmer at that moment, it must have flickered before their eyes, momentarily turning invisible then reappearing a second later to shoot a pulse of antiphotons. It flickered again, the transitions coming faster

and faster, until the guns were firing at their peak rate and the ship was a hazy blur as the Meccite cloaking device bent light around it between each burst of energy. No sensor in the galaxy could keep track of it as the blurred fury plunged towards the enemy flagship, its weapons eating into the shields and finally tearing a hole through its hull as they closed within a few thousand kilometres. Reeve was standing up, hands clenched as the enemy ship filled the screen. The image flickered rapidly as their own sensors tried to compensate and twin pulses of light arced before them, scoring great rents in their target. It tried to return fire but as far as its tragetting matrices were concerned there was nothing to hit and the shots scattered wildly. “Full speed!” Reeve bellowed. “Everything we have!” Kit’s mouth was open as they hurtled forward now on an unstoppable course. A thousand kilometres, seven-hundred, five-hundred, two-hundred. “We’re going to hit them!” he screamed. “That’s the idea!” The anitphoton cannons continued to carve through the battleship’s hull, now scything deeply through habitable decks. Explosions shuddered across its length and bulkheads crackled as magnetic shields tried to slam into place to preserve the atmosphere. They were less than a hundred kilometres away now, murderously close range in a space battle and still closing. Fifty kilometres, forty, thirty, twenty, ten… As the antiphoton cannons finally gave up and the cloaking device failed they crashed through the debris field that now surrounded their victim. The Sunskimmer itself began to buckle as conduits erupted across the ship. A plasma explosion on the bridge sent Halib flying to one side. Kit’s terminal went blank. Reeve threw her head back as they hurtled into the heart of the Spacefleet cruiser, just a few scant kilometres from impact now. Then, as their wake pushed forward, the mighty vessel finally lost the battle for hull integrity and its great spine tore in two, just as the Cronus’s had before it. The two halves of the ship ripped away from one another, leaving a raged, flaming gap through which The Sunskimmer ed, into open space, as their target disintegrated. Reeve gasped as the star field opened out before her. In the distance, the Hades Cluster glowed an angry blue. All around them the surviving Spacefleet ships were in retreat now their second flagship had met a similar end to the first one. It

was a complete rout. “We’re…alive?” Kit said, sounding confused. Halib picked herself up from the wreckage and stared around blearily. “Can we go home now?” “Not yet,” Reeve said. She pointed at the Hades Cluster on the flickering holoscreen. “Emily’s up there.” “What can we do about that?” “We need to be there.” “The Cluster will destroy us.” “That’s a risk we’ll have to take.” She took her seat again. “Kit, set course for Typhon. We jump to the Hades Cluster.” “Assuming I can get helm control.” He smashed his fist against the console and smiled slightly as it came to life. “What the hell – I’ve already been almost killed a dozen times today! What’s once more?” “That’s the spirit, Lieutenant,” Reeve told him, leaning back against the headrest and closing her eyes. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed she was still here to pull Emily out of trouble if she needed it. All she knew was: this is where destiny had put her.

***

As the shuttle entered the gravity well of the Hades Cluster the holoscreens flickered back on. Emily’s mouth dropped open as she saw the six tiny, furiously glowing suns, all so close it was unimaginable how this arrangement had ever come to be. At its heart was something even stranger – an object of some kind. It was vast: larger than the Bastion, but obviously of the same make. A great,

black, elongated diamond shape, studded with strange protrusions into which were fed great whorls of glowing energy. All this was channelled down the struts that made up its body into a pulsing turbine at its base. It dwarfed anything manmade Emily had ever seen. Even the shipyards in the Core couldn’t compete with this. The energy was discharged outwards from the turbine and she understood then what the great blue clouds that blew out into the system were. This was a Cthonian star engine and it was harvesting energy as it had for uncounted millennia, but it wasn’t being directed properly and so it was wasted, thrown out harmlessly into space. But there was some kind of habitable area at the top of the engine, they could see Dracon’s curious ship docked there, looking microscopic against the titanic object – and no doubt that was where the device could be controlled. The turbine could be focused to feed energy back to the Bastion and what might happen if it absorbed too much? The shuttle rattled as Ajax guided them towards the star engine. The gravity outside was wild and dangerous. One wrong move could crush them into a ball no larger than an atom. Alerts blazed all over the ship’s interface. “Nice of Dracon to save us a spot,” Ajax said as he landed the shuttle right next to the other vessel. Dracon’s ship was larger than theirs, but there was plenty of room on the immense docking bay. Emily and her father were already wearing spacesuits and strapped weapons to themselves. Fusion pistols, although they’d be useless if there was no atmosphere. Laser blasters too then, although they were unlikely to pack much punch against stiff opposition. Beyond that, there were no plans. Emily stepped out of the shuttle’s airlock first and planted her feet on the black surface of the docking bay. It was metal, but not a kind she recognised. She took an experimental step and then stamped her feet in wonder. “Gravity!” she announced. They were in vacuum, standing on the edge of the void, but the ground felt perfectly solid beneath her feet. “If there’s one thing they have in abundance here, it’s that,” Ajax said with a smile through his visor as he clambered out beside her. Emily took a moment to look out at the six burning suns arrayed around them. Her visor tinted automatically to protect her eyes, but it was still an astonishing sight. Each was barely bigger than a battleship, perhaps a few dozen kilometres across, but with mass as great as an ordinary star. She should have been dead but, somehow, the Cthonians had found a way to harness this power. She felt like

she was planetside; perfectly comfortable. “This way,” Ajax said, gesturing with his pistol. Together they jogged towards the structure at the top of the star engine, up a shallow flight of steps made of the same black material and through an open archway. There was no airlock, no doors of any kind, just black columns ing a roof high above their heads, like the struts of a huge temple, angled and seemingly carved from a single block of whatever this metal was. Emily saw a shadow moving to one side, stark against the bright blue light of the neutron stars and then saw a Spacefleet Marine walk out into their path. His grey armour was all-enclosing, serving as a pressure suit of his own and he carried a railgun. They couldn’t hear him but from his movements, Emily guessed he was surprised. He turned to fire, but they were already aiming their blasters. The shots scorched his armour and one cracked his visor. He keeled over as his armour depressurised and dropped his gun. Emily didn’t like subjecting anyone to that kind of death, but now wasn’t the time to be squeamish. The irregular struts formed ages through the structure and she and her father raced down the corridor, making for the centre of the complex. Eventually the ceiling began to close in on them and, without noticing any sort of transition, they were now inside a building. At an intersection, two more Marines turned as they approached and fired their guns. The shots went wide, ricocheting unnaturally from the strange walls and the Marines stared stupidly down at their defective rifles. Emily and her father didn’t hesitate, bringing them down with a rapid volley of laser fire. “What do you think happened there?” she asked him as they stepped over the corpses. “This whole thing must be made of exotic matter. It must react oddly with the railgun ammunition.” “As good an explanation as any. Which way?” Ajax looked left then right. He hesitated, then pointed. “Right.” “Why?” “Why not?”

“Okay then.” They ran into two more Marine patrols and dealt with them the same way when their rail rifles failed them. Finally, after taking two more intersections, they ducked through a low, angular arch and found themselves in a tall, wide chamber shaped like the interior of a pyramid. At the peak of the ceiling where the walls met was a device like an asymmetrical cluster of crystals. Waves of blue energy pulsed up the walls and fed into it. In turn a beam of light shone down into a large octagonal hole in the floor, around which was a bank of terminals of unfamiliar design. As they walked in they saw Dracon standing there. He was wearing a pressure suit, but wore no helmet. After checking her interface, Emily pulled her own helmet off and found the atmosphere breathable, if a little thin. Her father did likewise. They’d ed through no airlock, but Emily had stopped questioning what she was experiencing now. “ the ruined star engine we discovered in Priam, Robert?” Dracon didn’t look up from his work. Ajax walked forward. “Dracon…” “I thinking at the time what power the Cthonians must have had. You know, their ruins are amongst the oldest artefacts in the galaxy, and they had powers we can only imagine. They moved these stars here, I’m certain of it and built this device to harness their power. Incredible.” “Step away from the console, Dracon,” Emily said, pointing the pistol at him. Now he did look up. “You again? Why did you have to bring your brat, Robert?” “She’s Captain Ajax,” he said. “Show her some damn respect.” Dracon laughed. “A pampered princess. That spacesuit doesn’t fool me, child. Go home and play with your lithium mines. Leave this to the grown-ups.” “I don’t have time for this,” Emily snapped. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” Dracon shook his head and laughed quietly to himself. “Such arrogance before the awesome power on display before you. Misplaced. Sadly, sadly misplaced. The Cthonians were altering the shape of the galaxy hundreds of thousands of years ago. Whatever cataclysm ended their civilisation, it must have taken us

aeons to climb back to the stars and reclaim what humanity had lost. The Kelvans, the Arcadians, the Interstellar Republic and now us…we’re all just squatting in the ruins of our mighty forebears. Perhaps the Cthonians were our precursors, the ancestors of all humanity, and their homeworld, wherever it might be, the cradle of our species. Perhaps it was they who scattered us across the stars.” “I didn’t come here for an ancient history lesson, Dracon,” Ajax said. “Give it up. Your Marines’ guns don’t work here for some reason, but ours are just fine.” “You can’t possibly stop me now.” He pressed a button on the terminal and the crystal above his head began to glow. “I’m about to send a pulse of unimaginable power down the gravitic wake. If my calculations are correct, it will annihilate the Bastion and all your little ships nearby.” “What’s left of your fleet’s there too,” Emily reminded him. “And? I can always build more ships. Even now, the shipyards at Roland’s World are replacing my losses in this battle. Oh it will take me some time to realise my dream of a fleet of a million warships but with this star engine, anything is possible.” Emily and her father walked around either side of the hole in the floor, through which now pulsed a stronger beam of light, saturating the whole chamber in a blue glow, so they came at him from either side. “We could just shoot you,” she said. “Now why would you do that, child?” He glanced at Ajax. “And you, Robert, my old captain. Would you really kill me? You had the chance back on Troja. Am I to believe you’d be any more willing to do it now than you were then?” “The fate of the Four Quadrants is at stake, Dracon.” “Yes indeed.” He pressed another button and there was a rumble as the crystal above them glowed brightly again. “The destiny of the galaxy hangs in the balance. What will the future hold? Order and progress beneath the banner of the Free Planets, or anarchy with you and your sweepings of Wild Space?” He curled his lip hatefully. “To think, we were once of one mind.” “That was a long time ago.” Ajax still had his pistol pointed at Dracon’s chest.

“How can you be so self-righteous in the pursuit of this foolhardy cause, Robert?” Contempt dripped from every syllable. “This is of your making. You know that. You helped me clone Kyle Blackheart. Together we engineered the Darkstar Wars. This was always our aim. Order, peace.” “Not like this. Not with slavery and war.” “Then with what?” Dracon roared. “What did you think was going to happen, you cretin? This was always the plan. Unite the Free Planets, bring peace to the Quadrants then expand our borders and usher in a new age of glory. Revitalise humanity. Reclaim what we lost.” He held his hand up to the pulsing assembly of crystals. “Like this. Power over the stars themselves.” “We were wrong,” Ajax said. “I know that now.” “So you came here to put everything right? How noble. How righteous. Captain Ajax, always the hero, even when the villainy is of his own making. How will you make amends, by killing me and saving the Bastion? For what? Another will rise in my place. Spacefleet has more ships. The Free Planets’ reach is boundless.” “I have to make amends,” Ajax said. His hand was wavering though. “There is only one way to make amends for you, Captain Ajax.” Emily saw him reach behind his back then spin on his heel as he pulled out a fusion pistol and fired it straight at Ajax. “Dad!” she screamed. He moved fast, but it caught him on the side, leaving a scorch across his abdomen. He dropped to one knee and fired his blaster, knocking the pistol out of Dracon’s hand. The iral fell to the floor, clutching his smouldering glove. Blood poured from the wound left behind. Emily rushed over to her father and sank down beside him. “I’m okay…I’m okay.” he struggled back up to his feet with her help. “I have to it,” Dracon said as he stood up too. “I rather expected you to come alone. Why would you bring your daughter here anyway? Not very chivalrous to put her in danger like this, is it?” “Actually, the whole thing was her idea. Just like the trick with the feigned flight

in the battle.” Dracon looked at her. “Really now? Well then perhaps I underestimated you after all.” He started to back away from the console. “No matter now. What’s done is done.” He had his fusion pistol in his other hand and took aim, firing a protracted blast at the console and melting it into slag. Emily took a step forward but Dracon fired a shot at her which she only just ducked. “I don’t know what will happen to this control room when the crystal reaches full power, but I suspect it won’t be pleasant!” As the glow got brighter and turned everything an eye-wrenching shade of blue, the resonance in the crystals started to make a high keening noise which hurt the ears, Dracon jogged towards the exit clutching his wounded hand to his stomach and ducked out through the arch. “We have to do something!” Emily called above the noise. “Like what?” “I don’t know, but we can’t let the Bastion be destroyed!” She helped him towards the melted console. It was completely disintegrated and the engine appeared to be locked into overload. She stared down helplessly at it. “There must be some way to shut this off!” “Maybe your friend the physicist would know,” Ajax said. He forced a smile, but even in the blue light she could see his face was pale. His wound hadn’t looked that severe, but she could see the blood seeping through his suit now. “We need to get you back to the Bastion.” He pointed with his pistol. “There isn’t going to be a Bastion, ?” Emily looked at the ruined console again. Dracon’s fusion pistol had really done a number on it. She could see the crystalline workings inside it were damaged too. Then it occurred to her. She pulled her own fusion pistol from her belt. “We have to destroy it!” “What?”

“A continuous blast melted this thing to scrap.” She looked up at the crystal hanging over their heads. It was huge and complicated looking and now it pulsed with blue energy. “What’s the betting it’ll work on that too?” “Emily, what’s going to happen when we do that? You think all this energy’s just going to dissipate harmlessly?” “Not really, but what choice do we have?” She took aim. “Wait.” “What?” “Help me get mine out too. It’ll be faster if we’re both shooting.” She smiled, pulled his pistol out then handed it to him. They both stood back and aimed upwards at the throbbing machine hanging above their heads. “Ready?” Emily asked. “No.” “Too late.” They pulled their triggers and two beams of super-heated air lanced towards the ceiling. At first they had no effect on the crystal, but gradually it began to glow red, then orange, then yellow and finally an eye-watering white. A crack snaked across its surface and, as that flaw opened up, the whole structure gave way and shattered into a million pieces. It exploded outwards and shards rained down across the chamber, down the hole. Emily and her father both ducked, covering their heads with their hands. Energy crackled in all directions, lashing out, suddenly with nowhere to go. The beam going down the octagonal fissure cut out, but the blue glow remained as the residual waves of power pulsed around the chamber. There was a groan like tectonic plates colliding far below their feet and the whole structure rumbled, nearly knocking them sideways. Emily uncovered her head and stared as a massive crack opened up in one wall, revealing the darkness of space beyond. “We have to get out of here!” she shouted, grabbing her father’s hand and dragging him up to his feet. He stumbled after her out of the chamber. The air grew thinner as they ran down more corridors, trying to retrace their steps. They saw a Marine race past, not even

noticing them, and then plunging into a fissure which opened up in the ground and spiralling out into the vacuum. “This whole thing is breaking apart,” she told Ajax. “Looks that way.” He leant against the wall and looked down at his midsection. His suit was scorched and blood covered his side. “I’m not going to get far, Emily,” he said. “It’s fine. Just a scratch.” “No, my suit’s compromised. I’ll never get to the shuttle alive.” She knew he was right. “It’s okay, we can make it.” “You don’t even know the way out.” She tugged at his hand. “Come on!” “No.” He sank down to a sitting position, against the wall. He smiled and she could see blood on his lips. The shot had been more than a glance. “Dad, I’m not leaving you here.” She dropped down beside him and clutched at his bloody hand. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, but she had to settle for holding his hand through the gloves. “Yes, you are.” He looked up as another crack appeared across the blank black wall. “You have to go.” “Go where? How can I pilot the shuttle back?” “They’ll be out there, waiting for you.” “Who?” “Your crew, Emily. The Sunskimmer. It’s your ship now. Really and truly.” “But, the neutron stars…” He rapped his knuckle against the breastplate of her suit. “This’ll protect you for long enough to dive through the corona. Did it myself once.”

“And then what? Float in space until I get rescued?” “They’ll be there. I know it.” She moved closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. I can’t.” “You have to. This is…this is my destiny, Emily. This is my atonement.” The star engine shook again and a chunk of masonry fell down from the ceiling back the way they’d come. “You have nothing to atone for.” “Don’t lie,” he smiled. “I’m the cause of all this. We thought we were so…so wise…we thought we could see all ends. But we were wrong. The war that’s starting will be worse than anything we ever unleashed.” “That’s why you need to live,” she said. “To lead us.” “They already have a leader, Emily. You. You’re Captain Ajax. You’re my legacy to the galaxy. You’re how I make this right.” She pressed her forehead against his. His skin felt cold. “I’m not going to lose you again, Dad…” “I never…I never told your mother I loved her, you know. But she…she was the only woman in the galaxy who I left a piece of myself with.” She clutched his hand close to her. “A piece of yourself?” She could feel hot tears on her cheeks. “You, Emily. The best piece of me. And of all the adventures I had across the universe, seeing you grow into the woman you’ve become was the greatest of them all.” He kissed her gently on the forehead and then pushed her away. She stumbled up to her feet. She could barely see him through the tears blurring her vision. Angrily, she wiped them away with the palm of her hand. He was looking at her, smiling, proud, satisfied. The walls were falling apart around him. Her chest hurt from the effort of breathing in the failing atmosphere and she looked around. The whole star engine seemed to be fragmenting and, through a tall fissure further down the corridor, she saw lumps of the black material being

wrenched away, sucked into the gravitational pull of the Hades Cluster at long last. She thought she saw Dracon’s ship out there, fighting desperately against the gravitational forces, then it was pulled out of sight. “Gravity,” her father murmured, his voice barely audible above the sound of the star engine tearing itself to pieces. “It brings us together, it rips us apart. I spent my whole life chasing it down, in the oort cloud, across the galaxy and now here. This is how it was always supposed to end.” Emily breathed deeply and took her helmet from her belt. She looked down at her father, Captain Ajax, the greatest hero the Four Quadrants had ever known, lying against a rapidly crumbling wall of some alien material, slowly bleeding to death. “I love you, dad,” she said hoarsely. “I love you too, Emily.” She pulled on her helmet just as the corridor collapsed and the true light of the neutron stars flooded in. Her visor reacted automatically to filter out the dangerous radiation, but he was bathed in it, staring at her as the light burst over him, searing his eyes bright white. Tears filled her vision again. “Oh my…” he whispered. She turned as the floor fell away beneath her and spread her arms so that she fell into a great swan dive, a tiny, insignificant figure dropping through the infinite void. The star engine, a gargantuan remnant of a lost civilisation, crumbling into ruin, destroyed by the very powers it had once kept captive, stretched out beneath her. A churning whirlpool of blue light beckoned her – the surface of a neutron star – it was eating up the great black struts of the star engine, mashing them like some almighty monster. The Parthians believed their stars were the eyes of god: they were wrong. She fell, endlessly, silently, arms outstretched and there, through the flickering corona, beyond the star, she could just make out the shape of her ship, The Sunskimmer, waiting to catch her. Emily Ajax flattened her arms against her sides and plunged downwards, facing the inferno without fear.

ABOUT PEOPLE

Thomas Heasman-Hunt is a writer and “noisy boy” (E Heasman-Hunt, 2015). He’s been creating fiction since he was old enough to do different voices for his toys, with varying degrees of success. In 2012, emboldened by the world not ending, he began writing short stories and has rebuffed all attempts at being stopped. From his masses of fiction came literally several publishable works, of which this book is just one. He lives in Cambridgeshire with his wife, Emma, and their tortoise, Meat Pie, but can also be found on the internet shouting ineffectually about various progressive causes. When not writing he tries, like many large mammals, to split his time equally between sleeping and eating. He specialises in genre fiction, particularly speculative fiction, but has also turned his hand to contemporary and literary fiction. A prolific and ionate writer, Thomas is constantly updating his blog with new content. You can keep up with him on Twitter @ThommyH_H

ABOUT HOME

Cynefin Road came to life during a period of disaster and rebirth, spawned by a heady cross-breeding of the love of both reading and writing, combined with an overwhelming desire to be happy. And what could make anyone happier than bringing beautiful books into the world? (Apart from reading them, of course). Cynefin is the Welsh word for a place where the nature feels right — where it feels like home — and the road which leads there is paved with stories. www.cynefinroad.com @cynefinroad

Index

LEGACY by Thomas Heasman-Hunt

COPYRIGHT

AUTHOR’S NOTE

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF CAPTAIN ROBERT AJAX

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ABOUT PEOPLE

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