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Hello fellow Supreme Commander fans! This will be the tenth installment in my ongoing project and the end to “season 2”. As usual, I highly recommend reading the other books first if you have not done so already (or else you will really be lost). Here are the links to the other books:

Book 1:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 90&start=0

Book 2:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 49&start=0

Book 3:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 78&start=0

Book 4:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 08&start=0

Book 5:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 85&start=0

Book 6:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 36&start=0

Book 7:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 33&start=0

Book 8:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 98&start=0

Book 9:

http://forums.gaspowered.com/viewtopic. ... 66&start=0

Chapter 1
A Brand New Day

The login screen read the ID and then slowly processed the request. The old SCU pilot tapped his foot impatiently, annoyed at the new security protocols that might very well cost him his call. His face brightened immediately when he finally got the security clearance and Thalia appeared on his screen: “Hey Sweetheart!”

The Loyalist pilot was momentarily surprised, but then smiled warmly. She double checked the tactical screen of her ACU to make sure that the area was clear before speaking: “Bagby, it is good to see you.”

A mechanical engineer suddenly rolled past Bagby, most likely responding to a maintenance request somewhere in the hangar. The old pilot plugged his left ear with his index finger to block out the sound and kept speaking: “What are you up to? Got time to visit an old friend?”

“I am afraid not,” said Thalia sadly while turning her attention back to her main screen. She was barely a few minutes away from the quantum gate that would take her off world: “I must see ‘her’ safely returned. I am afraid that I cannot reveal much more than that.”

The news was not unexpected since everyone in the node had known about the unexpected visit. Although he regretted not seeing Thalia, Bagby knew that she had been given a great honor in being asked to escort their guest: “Say no more, I get it. I’ll catch you next time.”

Thalia leaned towards her screen, a concerned look on her face: “I am sorry if I have been unable to visit lately. I place a lot of value on our friendship.”

Coming from anyone else, the words might have seemed hollow or an attempt at being politically correct. Bagby knew that she meant it, however, and smiled back gratefully: “No worries, I got lots of stuff to keep me busy on my end. This entire node would fall apart without me.”

“Really?” asked Thalia, a trace of amused skepticism slipping into her voice. Bagby puffed his chest and then thumped his fist against it in what he hoped looked like a very manly way: “Of course! Now you take care of you know who concerning you know what at you know where.”

“What?” asked Thalia, momentarily confused. The Cybran merely pointed a finger at her and smiled from ear to ear: “Exactly!”

That last exchange did not really make sense, but Thalia smiled nevertheless. Bagby only teased those he liked, that much she knew. Unfortunately, her ACU had just reached its assigned quantum gate and it was time for her to leave: “So long, Bagby.”

Bagby nodded back before closing the channel. He then turned around while whistling a happy tune. A group of pilots would be hosting a poker game at his bar in a few minutes and he would be participating. Bagby was just about to leave – and hopefully get there on time - when he caught sight of Dostya in an adjacent corridor. From the looks of it, she was heading off to her ACU and he bounded after: “Hey girl, off to fight again?”

Dostya nodded back at him grimly while strapping on her gloves: “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The short answer was not enough to appease Bagby’s worries. He had thought of Dostya as his little girl for years now and his paternal instincts were as vivid as ever: “You’re not going alone, are you? I can come too if you want.”

“I won’t be alone,” assured Dostya while managing a smile to placate him. Something seemed to bug her for a second, but she shrugged it off when they reached the ramp that would lead her to her ACU: “Watch over things while I’m gone.”

Bagby nodded, but looked up at the giant display screen in the hangar’s ceiling. The emergency recall center, one which had to be rebuilt a new location whenever it was used, was still online and that reassured him. The old Cybran finally smiled back and nodded: “You bet!”

Dostya waved one last time before stepping in her ACU’s cockpit. Bagby watched her leave with an equal mixture of pride and happiness: “Kick some alien butts!”

A pair of uptight Loyalist technicians suddenly walked past Bagby, drawing a mischievous smile from him. He jumped between the pair, wrapped an arm around their shoulders and started singing: “It’s the beginning of a brand new day! A day filled with hope!”

The two Loyalists looked at each other anxiously, unsure how to react even as Bagby kept singing completely off key: “Because the Seraphim are falling and we might finally be winning! And I can’t rhyme no more!”

-----

“You got it all wrong,” argued Tie while shaking his head stubbornly. The Chimera youth jabbed a finger at the Cybran Mole’s exposed circuitry: “If you do it that way then its compensators will overload.”

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” said Nial clearly irritated at having someone standing over her shoulder that way. Foil, the oldest of the group, merely smiled from a few steps away. His gaze drifted left and he wrapped an arm around Melissa Desjar, the two of them sharing a private embrace even as Nail and Tie kept arguing.

Everyone was so preoccupied that they jumped in surprise when Bagby suddenly burst from around the corner of the street: “Hey kids, having fun?”

“Hey Bagby,” said Foil hesitantly, partially embarrassed that they had been caught with the Mole, but at least glad that they had not been doing anything more embarrassing. He had met Melissa’s father once and the ACU pilot had made it vividly clear that his daughter was to be treated properly: “We’re trying to override the Mole’s safeties so it will run faster than the kid stuff.”

Tie stood up irritably while shaking his head at Nial: “By burning through chip three hundred and eight; which won’t work!”

The Chimera youth was irritated, which only encouraged Bagby to meddle with the project. Originally, he had only stepped in the side alley to save some time, but kids playing with risky but not lethal stuff always excited him. The old SCU pilot stepped towards the Mole, took a quick look at the circuitry and nodded: “Of course it’ll work. Give it a try!”

Nial stuck her tongue out towards Tie, before closing the mole’s outer shell and activated it. The Cybran unit jumped to its feet and looked around, its behavior making it clear that a Fido program had been loaded into it. Nial took a stone from the ground, twirled it once in the air before throwing it towards the other side of the street: “Fetch, boy!”

Every face brightened as the Mole sped off, but then froze in place when it went from zero to over three hundred kilometers per hour in a few seconds. It surged forward, missed the rock by a long shot and crashed headlong into a vehicle which had been rolling down the street. The car spun out of control and crashed into the wall of a nearby building. Nial gulped and scratched the back of her head: “Uh oh.”

“I told you so!” said Tie accusingly while jabbing a finger towards her. All four children slowly turned to Bagby who just shrugged innocently: “I’m a pilot, not a mechanic.”

The car’s door opened slowly, drawing an encouraging nod from Bagby: “Well, no worries. It doesn’t look like anyone got hurt and people usually are pretty forgiving if you offer a sincere apology.”

A Cybran stepped out of the car, his slow but inevitable appearance seeming to block out the sun itself. Standing six and a half feet tall, the man was a mountain of muscles with the temper to match: “I’m going to kill you punks!”

“But not today,” squealed Bagby while turning around and screaming: “run!”

-----

Ell, the Chief Medical Officer of the node, sipped her warm tea as she walked towards the elevator. The dried leaves which served to supplement the drink had been a gift from a Loyalist family when she had managed to save their son from an uncommon illness. Some medical procedures could only be learned if you practiced in the fringe of the known galaxy.

A look at her data pad assured Ell that this would be a relatively calm day. No major military operation or pandemic had been declared. With a bit of luck, she might even get the chance to go to bed early tonight. Her simple dream slipped from her fingers when Bagby came running through the main hall while screaming at the top of his lungs: “Hold the doors!”

Ell briefly wondered what Bagby’s problem was, but she got her answer in the form of the behemoth that was chasing him. She held the doors and stepped aside while securing her drink. Bagby jumped inside a second later and the doors closed shut behind him. A loud bang confirmed that it had been a close call.

The elevator started going up and Bagby wiped the sweat from his brows: “Thanks Ell! Man is that guy big and he won’t give up either! He’s been running after me for the past twelve blocks!”

Bagby turned a wild grin Ell’s way, but she was not really in the mood to kid right about now. She still yearned for her bed and Bagby tugged at his collar nervously before lifting a finger: “I don’t suppose you could lock out the other elevators for a few minutes?”

Ell sighed and pressed a series of buttons on her wrist computer, sending an order that would block all civilian use of the elevators for a few minutes: “I suppose that it was just a simple misunderstanding?”

“Well… kind of,” said Bagby, a shy smile appearing on his lips as he shrugged helplessly. Ell just rolled her eyes when the elevator stopped on her level: “Just don’t get killed in my hospital, would you?”

-----

Long tears slid down Sandy’s face as she contemplated the rising sun on the horizon. Maybe it was better to end it right here and now. The UEF mechanic grabbed the handrail behind her and leaned over the edge of the fifteen stories tall medical center.

A single step and it would all be over. She tried to do it, but she wasn’t ready yet. What would her family say? Would anyone even be sad if she disappeared? The only one who had seemed to care had just ripped out her heart without a shred of remorse. Sandy was still trying to convince herself that no one would miss her passing when an old Cybran suddenly jumped over the handrail and landed right besides her.

His back was turned to her and he was just fishing the micro steel cable from the back of his belt when Sandy screamed. The Cybran flailed around in surprise with one foot accidentally slipping over the edge and he barely managed to latch on to the handrail in time. He heaved a sigh of relief when he recovered his balance and looked to his right at the terrified UEF mechanic. Sandy had picked this spot because a nearby pipe would hide her from anyone coming to the roof and it was apparent that the Cybran had been caught by surprise: “Whoa! What the hell are you doing there?”

“Don’t try to stop me!” cried Sandy while leaning towards the edge to drive her point. To her surprise, the Cybran did not try to and merely pointed a finger at himself as if he was the victim: “I was about to tell you the same thing!”

This puzzled Sandy who stopped leaning over the edge. She watched the stranger as he attached his cable around the handrail and then tugged it twice to make sure it was secured. Only then did he pause and turn to her: “You’re not trying to evade a pumped up Cybran with the arms the size of super conductors over a simple misunderstanding, are you?”

“No,” said Sandy in contempt while trying to figure out what kind of trick the Cybran was trying to use on her. The old man just shook his head and sighed wearily, apparently putting his trip down the building on hold: “Didn’t think so.”

His gaze turned to her then, eyeing her from top to bottom before he raised an eyebrow: “All right, so let me put it all together: tears, anger, frustration and a desire to end it all. I’d say… lost boyfriend?”

Sandy’s heart skipped a beat, new tears running down her cheeks at the betrayal: “What? He told you?”

“I just got lots of experience in that department,” said the stranger while shaking his head slightly. He reversed his grip on the handrail in order to lean against it and then spoke softly: “So what happened?”

“He broke up with me!” cried Sandy in frustration. In the past years, she had lost her house, her home world, most of her friends and now this! She looked down at her hands and sniffed loudly: “He said that he deserved better than this!”

The Cybran leaned forward curiously and looked at her hands, apparently not understanding: “What? Aside from a bit of motor oil on your hands you look clean to me.”

“I’m fat!” cried Sandy in frustration, upset that she had to spell it out. She was a good thirty-five pounds over her ideal weight. She knew that she was not the prettiest of the lot, but the way that her boyfriend had looked at her before breaking up had shattered what was left of her self confidence: “I’m disgusting.”

The Cybran’s head jerked back in obvious surprise and he blurted out a question: “Can you run?”

“What kind of question is that?” asked Sandy angrily. Was he going to make fun of her too? The stranger leaned forward again and nodded: “The serious kind. Can you run as far as the escape shuttles?”

“Of course!” said Sandy, flustered that anyone would believe otherwise. She was fat, not crippled! The stranger just scratched the back of his head: “And you’re a mechanic?”

The confusion in his voice caused Sandy to hesitate and she frowned in puzzlement: “Yeah?”

The Cybran blinked twice, almost as if he was trying to digest the information before he spoke: “Then clearly your ex is an idiot. I know dozens of guys who would kill for a chance to go out with someone like you.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” protested Sandy while looking away. The stranger would not back down however and took a step closer to her: “You’d think I’d make fun of something like that?”

The sincerity in his voice was compelling, but Sandy had not been born yesterday: “I saw other Cybran women; they are all as thin as models.”

The stranger groaned and slapped his forehead: “And somehow you thought that was by choice? Damn it, do you have any idea how hot you are?”

The question sounded almost like an accusation and Sandy looked back at the Cybran in surprise even as he kept speaking: “Trust me, most are looking the way they are now because of the recycled stuff we eat. They’d happily gain a few extra pounds and attractive curves like yours if there was some half decent food around here.”

“Really?” asked Sandy unbelievingly. The Cybran nodded and extended a hand towards her: “Having a bit of fat means you’re smooth, soft and enjoy life! Considering how hard it’s been of late, you can imagine how precious that is!”

Sandy took the hand, but looked away. How could she possibly believe any of it after what she had just endured? The stranger seemed to be able to read her thoughts and gestured towards her belt: “You need proof? Give me your headset.”

Intrigued by where this was going, Sandy handed her headset over. The Cybran unhooked the ear piece, motioned for her to lean towards him and then pinned it against her shirt: “Wearing your earphone on your shirt like that means you’re trying to meet people. At this angle it means you’re looking for a man, a woman is the other way. Straight up means you’re looking for either.”

It was a simple concept and Sandy remembered seeing a few Cybrans walking around with their headsets that way when they were off duty. She looked at her shirt for a second before raising an eyebrow: “What about straight down?

The Cybran winced and shook his head: “Let’s avoid kinky stuff for now, ok?”

The stranger then placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded encouragingly: “Just move around in any Cybran social district like this and I guarantee that someone will come up to you and show you a good time. Heck, I would if I was half my age and did not have a gorilla chasing me!”

The sound of a door bursting open suddenly reached them followed by a cry of outrage: “Where are you?”

The Cybran’s eyes opened wide and he made sure that Sandy had a firm grasp of the handrail before positioning himself over the edge: “Speaking of which, I have to go!”

Sandy smiled despite herself, but suddenly remembered something: “You’re Bagby, aren’t you?”

Bagby paused and looked back towards Sandy: “Did we meet before?”

“No,” said Sandy while shaking her head. An amused smile appearing on her face as she explained: “But they told me I’d know it if I ever met you.”

Bagby grinned from ear to ear, apparently taking it as a compliment. He then jumped over the edge and carefully made his way down the exterior of the medical center. Sandy wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped on the other side of the handrail, deciding that her last boyfriend was a jerk and that she would not think about him for a second longer. A large Cybran suddenly came around the corner, pausing only briefly to nod her way: “Ma’am.”

The giant would have kept running, but he suddenly came to a crashing halt and turned back towards Sandy. His eyes went down for half a second, taking note of the headphone on Sandy’s shirt and taking a full measure of her form. He then straightened and tried to rearrange his jumpsuit a bit before throwing a charming smile her way: “Err… hi!”

“Hello,” replied Sandy, her eyes unconsciously drifting down and taking note of the corded muscles that covered the Cybran’s entire body. The newcomer cleared his throat, his entire demeanor becoming oddly sophisticated despite his otherwise rough appearance: “Could I perhaps interest you in drink or a stroll? If you’re not busy, of course? I wouldn’t want to impose. My name’s Richard.”

His shy nature and the way that his eyes sparkled whenever he looked at Sandy made him look so cute. Sandy smiled sweetly, all thoughts of her last boyfriend evaporating from her mind: “Hi Richard, I’m Sandy and I’d be delighted to.”

-----

The doors opened and Bagby came stumbling into the bar. The old pilot was completely out of breath and he had to lean against a nearby table for support. The group of four Cybrans playing poker at the other end of the bar looked at him in annoyance: “You’re an hour late.”

“I know,” said Bagby between strained gasps. He tried to force a smile, but it seemed that his spot had been taken and Tucker, the one leading the game, merely shook his head: “We had to fill your spot. What was it this time? Saving a dog? Single handedly restoring moral to the engineering division?”

A chuckle escaped Bagby and he shook his head in amusement: “Well, no. This time it was…”

Bagby stopped in his tracks, suddenly realizing that the pessimistic gazes that stared back at him were in no mood for the story. He therefore only rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly: “I overslept.”

Tucker feigned a startled gasp: “Wow, Bagby telling the truth. What are the odds?”

A few chuckles came from the poker table, but Bagby ignored them. So he had missed out on a poker game. So what? He still had been through quite an adventure just getting here. The old pilot made his way to the bar instead while grumbling under his breath: “It’s a sad day when you have to lie to make people believe that you can tell the truth.”

Bagby sat down at his usual spot, glad for the reprieve if nothing else. He waited a moment, but the barman merely stared back at him without making a move. This was unusual since the two of them had known each other for years and his glass was usually full by the time that he sat down: “Hit me.”

“No,” said the barman stubbornly. Bagby reached out pleadingly, this being the first time that anyone had ever refused to serve him a drink: “Aw, come on! I had a gorilla after me! Is it because I missed the poker game?”

“You know what I want!” said the barman accusingly while refusing to budge an inch. Bagby leaned back in his chair, suddenly grumpy. The two of them had argued about this for the past two months: “The trick to successfully dating a Loyalist? That’s a trade secret, Bob. Do you know how many of those kids would kill for it?”

“My name’s not Bob!” cried the barman while slapping a hand against the counter: “I’ve been slaving for over twenty years while serving you drinks and never got a single straight answer out of you during the whole time! You owe me!”

The argument was unexpected and honestly, Bob did have a point. Bagby weighed the options carefully, balancing the need to drink against one of the most powerful secrets in the Alliance’s short history. He then motioned for the barman to lean forward and whispered so that only he could hear: “The truth is… we’re just friends.”

Bob just looked at Bagby unbelievingly and the old pilot elaborated: “I stroll around like a proud rooster after seeing her, making it appear like something’s going on, but in truth we’re just friends.”

The barman’s mouth fell open: “You’re using her?”

Bagby shook his head, a grin widening on his face: “I’m the legend who’s successfully going out with a Loyalist and her reputation is increasing by somehow taming the king of all scoundrels without any harm to her honor. In the meantime, Loyalist-Cybran relations become possible. It’s a win, win!”

The entire notion was entirely ridiculous, bordering on insanity if one considered the cultural differences between both factions. It was also, and Bob hated to admit it, the only thing that could possibly make any sense as far as Bagby was concerned: “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Bob was just reaching for a bottle behind the counter, but froze when the bar’s door opened: “Oh damn.”

The look on Bob’s face warned Bagby that things were serious and he turned around. Keith, Sjet and Queren were there, hardly an alarming sight, but Bagby knew that look in Keith’s eyes: “He’s got his game face on.”

The old pilot immediately turned towards the poker table and he found his answer right there: “Tucker?”

The other Cybran’s eyes were wide open, his lower lip trembling in barely contained grief. Someone had to bring the news to a pilot’s family whenever they died in battle and half the time, that grim task fell on Keith’s shoulder. Every Cybran in the node knew about it and Bob leaned towards Bagby after completing a query on his console: “His brother was out on the field, advanced recon.”

Nothing more needed to be said. Advanced recon meant that a pilot could sometimes venture beyond recall range. If he got ambushed under those conditions then it was all over. Bagby made his way towards Tucker, all resentment concerning the poker game gone, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder: “Hey, we’re here for you buddy; whatever you need.”

A silent tear ran along Tucker’s cheek as the emotion slowly overwhelmed him: “My brother…”

The other poker players stepped around him, offering their mute support even as Bagby kept speaking: “If you need anything then name it: friends, booze, girls, it’s on me. We’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“Bagby?” came Keith’s voice, but Bagby just waved for the Commando to remain silent. Keith had been stuck delivering a lot of bad news in the past few years and he could probably use a break: “It’s ok, I got this.”

Bagby turned his attention back towards Tucker and nodded warmly: “We’re here for you, Tucker. We’re a family and we take care of each other.”

Tucker looked back at Bagby and smiled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. He then turned to Keith to thank him, but frowned in puzzlement: “That’s… that’s not my brother’s ID.”

“It’s not?” asked Bagby in surprise. A chuckle escaped him and he rubbed his forehead in embarrassment: “Oh jeez, I’m so sorry! Hey, you still want that girl? I met a juicy morsel not long ago who’s just looking for a good time and…”

“Bagby?” interrupted Keith again, his voice becoming insistent. Bagby waved for him to be silent again: “Jeez, give a guy a break, would you? We nearly gave him a heart attack.”

Tucker suddenly reached forward and took a hold of the old Cybran’s shoulder: “Bagby?”

The horrified tone in Tucker’s voice puzzled Bagby and he looked around quickly: “What? Why is everyone staring at me?”

Bagby finally looked down at the data chip that Keith was holding. Normally, he made it a point to remember pilots by names, but he knew that number. He looked back up at Keith’s grief stricken eyes even as the Commando shook his head: “I’m sorry.”

The world threaten to spin out of control for a moment and Bagby would have fallen had Tucker not suddenly caught hold of his arm and held him up: “Easy there, we got you.”

Bagby remained speechless for one of the rare moments in his life, but then a chuckle escaped him. He waved a finger at everyone and smiled: “Heh, nice. A bit cruel, but I guess I deserve it after all the pranks I pulled. Ok guys, joke’s over. You got me.”

A thought suddenly occurred to him and he pointed an accusing finger towards Sjet: “I’ll still kick your *** later for thinking of it.”

Bagby had expected – or rather hoped – that Sjet’s surprised look would have proven that the joke was up, but the Commando just looked away, his eyes red as if he was about to cry. The reaction alarmed Bagby who turned towards the remaining Commando of the group: “Queren?”

The silent Cybran looked up at Bagby, tears flowing freely with snot coming out of his nose. Everybody knew that Queren could not lie to save his life, but there was no way that he could be faking like this. Heck, no one had ever heard him even yelp in pain before. The sight seemed to steal Bagby’s breath: “You’re pushing it a bit, aren’t you?”

Keith stepped forward then, obviously grieved, but managing to stay calm: “It’s not a joke, Bagby.”

“Then she got all of you fooled,” said the old SCU pilot while shaking himself free from Tucker’s grasp. He thumped his chest to inspire the others and then nodded fiercely: “It’s my girl. Remember how many times we thought Redfog died but he would keep showing up like a cockroach over and over again?”

A few other poker players raised their heads, suddenly hopeful. Bagby nodded again and closed his hand into a fist: “We just got to rescue her, that’s all. Come on, let’s grab all available pilots and…”

Keith shook his head while motioning for the other poker players to stop: “Her ACU explosion was recorded by the pilot that went along with her. There’s no mistake.”

“She would have recalled!” shouted Bagby back, no longer pretending to be inspirational or amused. Keith shook his head again: “She couldn’t.”

Bagby suddenly overthrew the poker table, sending plastic chips flying in every direction. He then took a threatening step forward and grabbed a hold of Keith’s uniform: “The recall station was operational before she left. I looked!”

“It was blocked,” said Keith sadly. Bagby shook the Commando angrily, now screaming at the top of his lungs: “By who?”

“It was Hex-Five,” said Keith while shifting his balance so that Bagby would not be able to throw him across the room. The last piece of information finally managed to sink in and Bagby’s lower lip started trembling. Keith hesitated a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder: “I’m sorry.”

“No,” groaned Bagby weakly, unable to accept that his girl was gone. Keith brought up the data chip and extended it to him: “If there’s anything we can do to help…”

“No!” shouted Bagby while slapping the chip away. It went flying across the bar, barely missing the bartender before slamming against a wall. Keith had seen that type of reaction before and he tried to restrain the old pilot: “Bagby…”

“No!” shouted Bagby again, struggling against Keith and everyone that tried to keep him calm. Meanwhile, the barman that everyone had always called Bob kneeled down and picked up the data chip, his eyes brimming with tears. No one would ever forget the day that Dostya died.

Chapter 2
Hour of Grief

I know I never thanked you properly for everything that you have done. I planned… no, I hoped that we would all be around in the end. We were once enemies, but today, I can’t imagine you as anything other than an ally and a friend.

Unfortunately, if you are receiving this message then it means that I am dead and that I’ll never get the chance to thank you in person. Even so, I would ask one last favor of you: to watch over those that were close to me.

Cybrans do not handle loss any better than other humans.

-----

The Loyalist ACU knelt down gracefully and aligned itself with its boarding ramp. Thalia smiled in relief, glad that nothing had gone wrong on their mission. The Princess was safely back and her meeting with General Hall and Doctor Brackman had gone as smoothly as it could have.

The tide of the war had turned; the Princess’s awakening having caused an uproar within the Order of the Illuminate. Kael had founded her empire upon the principle that Rhiza and her followers had murdered their beloved spiritual leader and that only the Seraphim could save humanity. With the lie exposed for what it was, pilots who had harbored doubts over the Seraphim’s heartless methods had broken away and were fighting their former masters all over the galaxy. Even the Champion, one of the heroes of the Infinite War, had returned to the battlefield, bringing renewed hope to all that fought alongside her.

Thalia has been worried prior to her mission that Princess Burke would not have been ready to meet the Alliance’s leaders. She had been in a coma for so long after all and the harsh realities that surrounded humanity’s fate must have been overwhelming. Even so, she had not only proven to be resilient, but also uncannily insightful. Thalia did not know who had briefed the Princess, but whoever it was must have been extremely well informed.

The Princess had addressed every ACU pilot that she had met by name and seemed to know exactly how to act to put them at ease. She understood their suffering and those of their people as keenly as if she had been amongst them the whole time. Even Doctor Brackman, as cautious as he was when discussing with Loyalists, had eventually warmed to her presence.

A beeping sound confirmed that the ACU had just finished its powering down sequence, reminding Thalia that this was not the time for daydreams and that she still had many tasks ahead of her. A push of a button opened the cockpit and Thalia noticed the renewed vigor that permeated the air. Everyone was moving with hope in their eyes, even the attendant who jogged towards her: “Commander Thalia, the Princess has asked to see you.”

The request was unexpected, but Thalia nodded curtly: “I will change out of my uniform and meet her as soon as I can.”

“She said it was urgent,” added the attendant while stepping to block her path. Thalia paused for a second before nodding. Doubts plagued her mind as she hastily made her way towards the Princess’ quarters. What was wrong? Had she somehow caused an incident during her escort mission?

It took Thalia a few minutes to navigate her way through the corridors that led to the Princess’ quarters. The two guards flanking the door looked at her critically when she stepped around the corner, eyeing the light that danced along her uniform. Although she was not carrying a sidearm, everyone knew that a Loyalist pilot’s uniform was a weapon on itself, capable of increasing the wearer’s strength to inhuman levels. They must have had orders, however, since one of them opened the door without a word.

Thalia stepped inside and found their spiritual leader standing near the window with one hand resting against a stone pillar: “Princess?”

Rhianne was staring at the distance stars, her eyes reflecting all the lights almost as if she could take it all in. She stayed motionless for a few seconds longer before turning to her guest: “Please, come closer.”

Thalia did as commanded and stepped within a meter of the Princess: “How can I serve you?”

“My heart is overjoyed,” said Rhianne softly as she gazed at the ACU pilot: “You have made great progress in bridging the gaps that divide us from the Cybran Nation. Much would not have been possible this day without you.”

The open praise was gratifying and Thalia found herself stammering: “Thank you… Princess.”

Rhianne’s eyes grew sadder as she kept speaking: “I wanted to talk to you about your friend, the one that you know as Bagby.”

The sudden twist caught Thalia unprepared, but she recovered easily enough. She was certain that she had not mentioned the Cybran pilot before, but if there was one thing that Bagby was good at, it was appearing in places where no one expected him to be: “I know that his demeanor is unusual, but he is a trusted friend. His heart is true and kind. I have learned much from him and he…”

“Go to him,” interrupted Rhianne quickly. The command forced Thalia to pause, both by its nature and the way it had been delivered. Following proper etiquette usually meant letting someone finish speaking instead of cutting in: “Princess?”

“Something terrible just happened,” clarified Rhianne softly, her eyes reflecting her sadness: “He will need you before the end.”

The ominous declaration caused Thalia’s heartbeat to quicken. What had happened during their trip from the Cybran Node? The Princess motioned for Thalia to go and she bowed her head before doing so. She walked out of the Princess quarters and soon found herself jogging towards the command center. There she found Rhiza, the leader of the Loyalist Movement, apparently preoccupied: “Crusader Rhiza, I would like the permission to return to the Cybran Node.”

“So you heard?” asked Rhiza, a wince escaping her. Thalia’s heart rate increased when Rhiza shook her head: “I was just about to bring the news to the Princess, but I take it she would agree to send you as a messenger. You always had more success connecting with our allies than I.”

“What happened?” asked Thalia anxiously. Rhiza’s head jerked back in surprise: “I thought you knew; Elite Commander Dostya perished in battle. She was betrayed by one of her own.”

The Princess’ warning rang through Thalia’s mind and a single word escaped her lips before she turned around and rushed to her ACU: “Bagby…”

-----

Ell stepped within the private laboratory, her eyes darting left and right until she found the holographic image of Doctor Brackman standing in the corner with his back turned to her. He had not been answering incoming transmissions, not even priority calls from General Hall. The Chief Medical officer walked slowly, almost as if she was afraid that her mere presence would break something: “Doctor Brackman?”

The hologram did not move and Ell immediately turned towards the human brain which floated in the nearby tank. A quick look showed that everything was working within standard parameters, but it did little to reassure her. A few more steps allowed Ell to get a better angle and she saw what caught the hologram’s attention: Dostya’s type one data chip which rested on the table.

Ell’s hand instinctively went up and brushed against the chip in her forward pocket. Dostya’s death had affected them all, but now was not the time to grieve over her loss, not yet anyway. Ell walked around the table, only then getting a good look at the hologram’s eyes: “Doctor?”

Brackman looked up slowly, his eyes wide and distressed. For a moment, Ell thought that things were not as bad as she had feared, but she then realized that her concerns were well founded. Brackman was not crying simply because he lacked a body to do so. What she was currently witnessing was pure mental anguish over the loss of a child and the hopes that he had entrusted into her. Ell wanted to comfort him, to take a hold of his hand like she would any other patient, but she could not.

Like so many other times over the past millennia of warfare, Doctor Brackman was doomed to suffer the loss alone.

-----

The two UEF pilots stood on the walkway overlooking the ACUs in the hangar. Desjar leaned against the handrail and shook his head: “People shouldn’t be allowed to die like this.”

Weisman nodded, the second in command’s mood having darkened considerably when he had heard the news: “Do you think it could have been arranged with… you know?”

“No,” said Desjar immediately. The fact that Dostya had not gone alone was the only reason that they even knew about the Seven Hand Node’s betrayal in the first place: “I watched the replay, twice.”

A sigh escaped the Major General, his mind replaying the battle before his eyes. The landing site had been compromised from the start with half a dozen Seraphim bases surrounding it: “It was a trap and a normal pilot would have been overwhelmed. I’m not even sure that I could have survived that long myself, never mind assisted Dostya in time.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Weisman would object, but the second in command finally nodded in resignation. He brought his hand up and brushed his thumb against the pendant under his shirt: “This is wrong.”

The motion did not go unnoticed and Desjar raised an eyebrow: “You’re thinking about the Titan, aren’t you?”

“And General Clarke,” said Weisman darkly. Although he had only been aboard the Titan for a short time, Weisman still held fond memories of its crew and Captain. To lose them because of the war was one thing, but Dostya’s death had just put that into question: “Do you think that Hex-Five was involved in it too?”

It was a legitimate question, but with dark intentions behind it. There was nothing worst than dying by the hands of a traitor and Desjar kept that in mind as he spoke: “Had Clarke recalled when she was ordered to do so instead of sticking until the last moment then she would have survived. Even Chief Leger confirmed that it’s almost impossible to get a lock on an ACU when it’s being pounded by energy weapons from all sides.”

This was not the answer that Weisman was looking for and Desjar found himself shaking his head in shared frustration: “But the Seraphim did find the Titan far too quickly despite the fact that we spent over two months covering its tracks. At first, I thought that QAI had gotten smarter, but now…”

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and both pilots turned towards an approaching Cybran Commando. Desjar had seem him on a few occasions and his name was Sjet if he recalled correctly. The Cybran paused and extended a data chip: “Commander Desjar, this is for you.”

“What is it?” asked Desjar while taking a hold of the chip. The design was basic without any seal that indicated that it was classified. Sjet nodded towards the chip: “A type two video recording from Dostya. This one had your name on it.”

Desjar looked up in surprise, realizing that he was probably holding Dostya’s last wishes. Only then did he notice that the Commando’s eyes were red as though he had recently cried. Desjar knew that Sjet, like a few other Commandos, had always been part of Dostya’s entourage, but he had never suspected that they were this close.

There was another Cybran, an SCU pilot, who had helped Desjar in the past when he had truly needed it: “How’s Bagby handling it?”

“Keith’s with him,” said Sjet while looking away. The Commando’s hand went up and brushed one of his eyes: “He…”

The rest of the sentence was lost as the Cybran choked on the words. Sjet shook his head quickly and winced: “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this anymore.”

Both UEF pilots watched Sjet as he turned around and left without saying anything else. Desjar waited a few seconds before nodding to Weisman: “See if you can persuade a few pilots in other squads to replace shaken Cybrans. Call in favors if you have to. Then I want you to contact the others and have them stand by. I’ll head to the command center.”

“What’s going on?” asked Weisman, his eyes alert when he noticed how serious Desjar had become.

“I don’t know,” said Desjar slowly. The Major General tucked away Dostya’s data chip inside his uniform, determined to watch it later: “But something is bound to happen and we’d better be prepared for it.”

“Sir?” asked Weisman before Desjar could turn to leave: “If Hex-Five was responsible for the Titan’s destruction then we deserve some payback too.”

Desjar considered the request and then nodded.

-----

The normally bustling command center was silent, almost unnaturally so. Hall watched over it from his elevated platform and almost missed the constant tirade between UEF, Cybran and even the few Loyalist analysts that worked here. Dostya’s death combined with Hex-Five’s betrayal had left most Cybrans numb. The only exception was Slate who seemed far more agitated than usual: “Where are the files? I asked for that video footage five minutes ago!”

“Are you sure that it’s necessary?” asked a nearby UEF analyst. Slate turned his unblinking eyes towards the man even as he added: “What you’re asking is…”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” barked Slate back. The Cybran leaned forward, his face coming within an inch of the other analyst: “No! I asked for those files! I want to know where Hex-Five has been, what he said, where he looked, where he ate, who was with him, who crossed his path and who urinated at the same place as him! Everything could be a clue and I want it all yesterday!”

The words rang loudly through the command center, earning disapproving glares from everyone. Slate obviously did not care and returned his full attention back to his console. Hall felt that he would have no other choice but to order the Cybran to take a break if he kept acting this way. The door opened before he could give that option any more thought and Brian stepped through.

The UEF Chief Engineer looked to Hall, silently asking him if he could intervene. Hall knew that the two of them were friends in their own strange way. Their mission aboard the Titan had forged the bond and Hall nodded back in approval. Brian nodded to a few Analysts as he walked towards his friend: “Slate?”

“Get out,” grumbled Slate under his breath without even turning around: “You’re useless here.”

“Don’t worry,” said Brian while putting a hand on the Cybran’s shoulders: “We’ll catch him.”

Slate twisted his shoulder away with a sneer, still refusing to look back at Brian. The Chief Engineer frowned in consternation, unsure what to do. Slate was anti-social, even by Cybran standards, but this was something entirely different: “I didn’t realize that you and Dostya were so close.”

“We weren’t,” clarified Slate with a weary sigh. The Cybran’s gaze finally turning towards Brian for a second: “She was bossy and I never really liked her. She also blackmailed me on a number of occasions.”

Slate’s hands kept moving aggressively over his console even as he spoke. Brian had learned over the past few months that it was easier to guess Slate’s mood by looking at his fingers instead of his face: “It’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Then who’s fault is it?” cried Slate at the top of his lungs while standing up. The Cybran pressed a hand against his chest as he kept screaming: “I was the one that should have noticed it. I should have seen through the Seven Hand Node’s smoke screen or just kept digging until I found the truth! Then maybe she’d still be alive.”

A scorn of contempt appeared on Slate’s face as he pointed an accusing finger towards Brian: “This isn’t some broken ACU that you can just stick in factory and fix in a few hours! She’s dead, all right?”

Every set of eyes turned to the two of them even as Brian took a step back. Slate’s gaze slowly turned away from his friend, almost as if he was regretting what he had just said. When he spoke again, his voice dropped to a quiet whimper: “Now people are grieving everywhere, things aren’t working as they should and there’s nothing that I can do to fix it. I failed.”

Slate’s wrist computer suddenly beeped and he looked at it hopelessly. His eyes widened for a split second before he turned around to leave: “I have to go now.”

Everyone in the room watched as Slate left the command center. Hall sighed wearily, wondering how things had gone so wrong so quickly. The door opened again a few seconds later and a Cybran pilot stepped through. Valerie walked straight to Hall, her face an expressionless mask: “I need security access to Dostya’s quarters. There is an item there that I must recover.”

-----

“It’s done,” said Sjet in resignation as he slumped into his chair. Queren merely remained sprawled head down on the table, his third bottle of Minerva Swamp already half empty. Sjet couldn’t believe how badly Queren had been affected by all of this. Heck, this was the first time that he had ever seen the stoic commando this drunk.

The barman came to their table then with a fresh bottle for Sjet: “Any news from Bagby?”

Sjet shook his head and took a long swig from his bottle, determined to become just as wasted as Queren. The barman sighed sadly while looking down at the two data chips in his hands. One belonged to him while the other was the chip that Bagby had knocked against the wall: “I wonder if I should go and hand it back to him. I haven’t even found the guts to look at mine yet and it’s just a type two.”

The words trailed off, leaving and odd silence in the air. Type two chips only had the message for the intended recipient. Type one held a lot more and from the looks of it, neither Sjet nor Queren had accessed their own chips: “You guys were as close to a family as she had left.”

Sjet took another swig and nodded sadly: “That’s a sad thing even on itself.”

-----

The Loyalist ACU stepped into the Cybran hangar in a hurry and its cockpit soon opened. Thalia jumped out of it and ran as quickly as she could. She needed to find Bagby before he did something foolish. The node’s configuration had changed since the last time that she had visited the civilian district, however, and she no longer knew where his quarters were. Maybe one of the security patrols around the hangar could help her.

Thalia was so focused on her objective that she collided face first into someone when she stepped around a corner. The blow knocked her several steps backward and she looked up at the six and a half foot tall Cybran who was glaring down on her: “Hey! You know the rules; no Loyalist suits allowed outside military facilities!”

The Cybran’s harsh tone was frightening, but the only thing that Thalia noticed was the security badge on his uniform: “Can you help me? I need to find Bagby.”

The Cybran’s entire demeanor changed, his face expressing… guilt? The giant forwarded a query on his wrist computer before nodding back to her: “He’s in his quarters, sector E Five. Just take a left after exiting through the door behind me.”

Thalia nodded gratefully and started unfastening the top of her flight suit. Maybe the security guard would let her proceed if she removed her armor and stripped down to the skin tight underlay. It would be embarrassing, but she had no time to waste. The security guard stopped her with an outstretched hand and stepped aside: “Just go.”

-----

Fletcher cursed under his breath as he removed his helmet after a long day of patrolling. The pilots under him had been requisitioned and for what? Because the Cybrans had lost their precious little cheerleader of a commander? This had Desjar’s signature all over it, of that Fletcher was certain.

Desjar, Hall and a few other high ranking officers had forgotten that Cybrans were barely even human, having cracked open their own skulls just so that they could think a little faster than the rest of them. Their high minded ideals of ‘freedom’ had allowed scum like Hex-Five to exist and Dostya’s death was their own fault. The smuggler’s case was not unique either and paled when compared to others. Fletcher had crossed paths with the genetically twisted Chimeras and had barely survived his first mission alongside the leader of the Assumpta Node. Cybrans were like rabid dog, Fletcher decided, and it was only fortunate that they hated the Seraphim more than the UEF.

The Brigadier General was still brooding about the situation when his eyes darted left, drawn by the light from a Loyalist uniform a level below him. She was only a few steps away from the hangar’s exit and was talking to a Cybran security guard. Fletcher would have kept on walking when the Loyalist pilot suddenly bowed her head and ran out of the hangar.

This time, Fletcher cursed aloud as he ran for the stairs. He made it halfway down when he met the Cybran security guard who was on his way up: “What the hell are you thinking? She still has her suit on!”

The guard paused for a second, but then shook his head and kept climbing the stairs: “She’s going to see Bagby…”

“You idiot!” screamed Fletcher furiously: “Our security is compromised and you pick this time to break the rules?”

The security guard ignored the protest and kept climbing the stairs, his extreme height and the size of his muscles becoming more obvious with each step. He looked down and growled menacingly when he finally reached Fletcher’s level, making it obvious that it was not a good idea to argue with him any further. The UEF pilot cursed once again and mentally took a note of the security guard’s ID before taking off, determined to stop the Loyalist pilot before she could do any serious damage. Yes, Cybrans were little better than rabid dogs.

-----

“Maybe I should have gone on a date with her,” mumbled Sjet more to himself than to anyone else. He looked down sadly at the bottle of Minerva Swamp in his hands: “She was pretty hot after all. Bagby would have probably killed me though.”

Queren did not answer, his head still buried in his arm on the table. The barman that everyone always called Bob remained seated at the table silently if just to make sure that the two Commandos would not get in any trouble.

Sjet took another swig from his bottle when the bar’s door suddenly burst open and Thalia stepped through. The Loyalist looked around quickly, her fearful eyes scanning the crowd until they noticed the Commandos: “Sjet!”

“Oh darn it,” mumbled Sjet as Thalia made her way towards him. The Loyalist wrinkled her nose in disgust at the smell of Minerva Swamp, but she would not be deterred so easily: “Where’s Bagby?”

Sjet rolled his eyes which made the room spin for a few seconds: “He should be in his quarters with Keith, drowning their sorrows just like we are.”

That should have been the end of his involvement, but Thalia simply shook her head stubbornly and leaned over the table: “I just came from his quarters; no one is responding.”

“It’s a Cybran thing,” said Sjet while twirling a hand in the air: “Male bonding… drinking… thing. Better wait until it’s over before you take your turn.”

Sjet brought his bottle back up, but Thalia took a hold of it before it reached his lips and forced it back down: “Please, I need to see him.”

“What’s so urgent anyway?” asked Sjet in annoyance. Normally, stopping a Cybran from drinking under these circumstances was enough to start a bar fight, but Sjet knew that Thalia and Bagby were close. That and she was somehow still wearing her armor which would give her a sizable advantage.

“He might do something foolish,” said Thalia, her voice filled with concern. Sjet just shrugged it away: “It’s Bagby, what do you expect?”

For a moment, it seemed as though Thalia was struggling with something. She finally nodded, apparently coming to terms with whatever secret she had been holding back: “I should not be telling you this, but he used to be an Assumpta.”

Bob’s eyes grew wide with shock which drew a muffled chuckle from Sjet. He was actually surprised that the barman did not know any better by now: “In any other context, that might actually be funny.”

“Just help the girl out,” said Bob insistently. The urgency of his tone brought Queren out of his drunken stupor and both Commandos looked at him weirdly.

“Fine,” said Sjet with a shrug. He reached for his transmitter and pressed a button: “Keith, hello?”

A moment passed without any answer and Sjet merely shrugged: “See? He probably turned off his transmitter and stuff.”

“Can’t you make an emergency call?” pleaded Thalia urgently with both hands held in front of her like a Chalice.

“Look ‘Sweetheart’,” said Sjet angrily while slapping his bottle back on the table. He lifted his wrist computer and pointed a finger towards it as he spoke: “There’s no way that I’m making one of those. It would just barge in on their private moment and then I’d get blamed and tied upside down again. So no thanks. There is no way that I’m pressing this...”

Queren’s hand suddenly flashed forward and pressed the button that Sjet had been pointing at. Sjet turned towards the other Commando and looked at him dumbly: “You didn’t…”

The silent Cybran merely shrugged which only infuriated Sjet further: “You bastard!”

“Sjet, calm down!” said Bob even as Sjet stood up angrily. The Commando ignored him and pointed an accusing finger at Queren: “Shut up Bob! He always gets me in trouble and I get blamed for it every time. Well, no more!”

Sjet waved a hand to grab everyone’s attention and shouted at the top of his lungs: “This time you’re all witnesses! When Keith calls back, you can all tell him that it was his fault!”

A chuckle escaped Sjet as he grinned at Queren: “You’re going to get it now!”

The mixture of grief, vengeance and booze had dulled Sjet senses and Bob cleared his throat loudly: “Does it normally take Keith that long to answer?”

Everyone turned towards Bob and then slowly back to Sjet. The Commando’s victorious smile slowly faded as the reality of the situation sunk in. Commandos were trained to respond to emergency calls, no matter in what state they were in.

“Ah damn it,” grumbled Sjet as he pressed the emergency button himself: “Keith, pick up.”

Sjet waited a few more seconds before pressing another button: “HQ, where the hell is Keith?”

“He’s still in Bagby’s quarters,” responded a confused analyst. Sjet cursed loudly, even as Bob took away his bottle of Minerva Swamp and slammed a pair of sobriety pills into his hand: “Take these and go!”

Bob did the same for Queren and paused for a second in front of Thalia before reaching into his pocket and handing her a data chip. Thalia looked at it questioningly, but Bob merely shook his head and ushered her towards the exit: “It’s for Bagby, get it to him at any cost. Go!”

-----

A few minutes later, Sjet slammed his fist repeatedly in the door to Bagby’s quarters while shouting at the top of his lungs: “Keith, answer me!”

“I already knocked before heading to the bar,” said Thalia while shaking her head. The Cybran Commando cursed and went for the control panel instead. He opened the frame, but then paused, his hands shaking in hesitation.

Thalia looked from the control panel to the Commando repeatedly before frowning: “What is the matter?”

Sjet shook his head angrily and rubbed his forehead: “Booze is still in my system even with sobriety pills, all right? I can’t think straight!”

The Commando took a deep breath and tried to focus on the puzzle at hand: “Was it the B twelve to C six or was that the old model?”

Thalia suddenly grabbed a hold of Sjet and gently pushed him aside. The Commando was about to shout that she had no clue what needed to be done, but she ignored him and opened a section on the right arm of her suit. She then braced herself and slammed her fist into the door, buckling it in a single punch. Thalia assaulted the door repeatedly, bending and twisting it until she managed to crack it open. She then reached out and pulled the door right out of its frame.

The two Cybrans looked at each other in amazement, neither having ever seen a Loyalist loose her temper before. Queren just shrugged and Sjet, being the security expert of the squad, conceded the point: “Ok, that works too.”

All three quickly made their way inside Bagby’s quarters and the first thing that they found was Keith sprawled on the ground. The leader of the squad groaned in pain as Sjet helped him back in a sitting position: “Slowly, slowly, what happened?”

“Bagby,” mumbled Keith as he rubbed a painful bruise on his neck: “He jumped me when my back was turned.”

“So where is he now?” asked Sjet while looking around. Thalia merely stood frozen in place, her eyes drawn towards the back room which had been left in a washroom configuration. The floor was covered with gray hair, almost as if Bagby had shaved off his head and beard prior to leaving.

-----

In a dark alley not far away, Slate handed a data pad to the Cybran in front of him and nodded: “This is everything that I have, all compiled and sorted out by priority.”

The Analyst hesitated a second longer before adding: “It’s not enough to find Hex-Five or the Seven Hand Node, but we can probably use the client list to track him down. It’s the best I can do… it’s the only thing I can do.”

The figure in front of Slate did not answer which was rather troubling. Had the initial summon not come from Bagby’s quarters then Slate might not even have recognized the SCU pilot. The Analyst hesitated a moment, his unblinking eyes glancing down as his guilt over his failure overwhelmed him: “I’m sorry.”

Bagby did not answer and merely turned around as if to leave. Slate immediately reached out as if to stop him: “Look, you can’t do this alone. We can round up the others and…”

The pilot whirled in a flash, his fist catching Slate straight in the temple. The world spun away and a single thought formed into Slate’s mind as he lost consciousness: why had Bagby shaved and where had he found that plasma blade that was strapped to his back?

Chapter 3
Absolute Chaos

I want to thank you, but I do not know where to begin. I could mention your skill, loyalty and determination, all of which must have been tested time and time again after X-day. We both danced along Redfog’s twisted plan and while your role in it wounded me at the time, I am glad to count you amongst my friends.

That is not, however, what I want to thank you for. Despite your heritage, you managed to beat the odds and found happiness with Kazuo. You did the impossible and seeing it happen right before my eyes reminded me that happiness was still within reach, even for me. You gave me hope and for that, I shall remain ever thankful.

-----

“This is unacceptable!” shouted Hex-Five while flailing around. The smuggler paced back and forth through the small room before pointing a finger at the digital eye on his screen: “I delivered Dostya as promised while going as far as to dispose of her myself and what was my reward? Everyone in the Cybran Nation wants my head!”

“The destruction of the quantum jammer was not impossible,” countered QAI in a neutral tone. Had Hex-Five not been so preoccupied with his own problems then he would have noticed how each disk on the screen turned in a slow yet graceful manner, almost as if QAI was enjoying his torment.

“The Seraphim held back,” said the smuggler while pointing a finger accusingly: “They allowed the quantum jammer to be destroyed just as my forces were closing in on her. Did they actually want the rest of the Cybran Nation to know about it?”

For an instant, Hex-Five had hoped that QAI would offer a counter argument or at least try to explain the Seraphim’s odd behavior. That would put it on the defensive and hopefully open the door to proper compensation. The Seven Hand Node had been exposed which would result in sizable losses, but the smuggler had planned for that eventuality and had left many discrete contacts behind. Just because he could no longer interact with the Alliance directly did not mean that he could not pull some strings.

Unfortunately for him, QAI simply waited patiently, offering neither excuse nor justification for its masters’ actions. Nervous sweat started accumulating on Hex-Five’s forehead when he realized that his exaggerated accusation had actually hit its mark. The Seraphim had purposely exposed him for the traitor that he was.

The smuggler gulped nervously, realizing now that the game had changed: “Do you realize that you wasted a perfectly good opportunity to kill a hero of the Infinite War?”

“A single pilot will not make a difference,” said QAI dismissively. The smuggler was right of course; the Seraphim could have attacked the moment that Alliance forces had gated in and killed both pilots. This was not, however, part of their plan: “The Seven Hand Node still has an important part to play.”

Hex-Five looked up, both hopeful and afraid at the same time. Whether he liked it or not, the Seraphim’s betrayal would force him to side with them and had significantly weakened his bargaining position. Meanwhile, QAI kept speaking in a calm yet soothing voice: “Relocate your forces and other assets out of Alliance territory and take every measure to cover your trail. Do this and your reward will be substantial.”

For a moment, Hex-Five almost wanted to scream in frustration, but wisely held back. More importantly, he replayed QAI’s instructions in his mind and realized their implications. The Seven Hand Node had relocated the minute that Hex-Five had been discovered which was the only logical alternative left. So why would QAI order him to do so unless…

The smuggler’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. The Seraphim were up to something big, something that would most likely destroy the Alliance altogether. The only thing that they needed now was time and exposing the Seven Hand Node was the appropriate distraction. That was the only reason that they would sacrifice such a useful ally.

No, perhaps the term sacrifice was not appropriate. QAI had not broken all contact with him which meant that he was still of value, perhaps even after the conflict was over. If anything, Hex-Five’s relation to the Seraphim was ‘honest’ compared to how they were using the Order of the Illuminate. Besides, it was not as if he had many choices left now that Dostya was dead. The Alliance would attempt to track him down, but he would be ready for them.

-----

Fletcher cursed under his breath as he ran back towards the military district. His first impulse when he had attempted to catch up with the Loyalist pilot had been to see if she would make her way to Bagby’s quarters like she said she would. Unsurprisingly, no one had been there when he reached it, confirming his suspicions.

Had the UEF pilot known that Thalia had made her way to the Hot Plasma bar in the meantime then he might have calmed down. Right now, however, the only thing that he knew for certain was that an armed Loyalist pilot was moving through the node barely hours after they had been betrayed. Fletcher simply did not believe in coincidences.

Multiple scenarios coursed through Fletcher’s mind as he tried to think of a reason why the Loyalists would betray them. Had the Princess’ visit simply been a diversion so that they would lower their guard? Would the Loyalist switch their allegiance back to the Order if their spiritual leader commanded it? Why would they send in a lone pilot then? Were they hoping to steal as much information as they could before turning on them?

That last possibility seemed the likeliest and it forced Fletcher to pause in his tracks. If stealing information was the objective then the Loyalist pilot might not even need to return to her ACU. She could simply use the emergency personnel transport that had been set up in the Quantum Nexus!

Fletcher stopped for a second before taking a side street and running straight for the Quantum Nexus. He would send orders to the few people that he trusted in the hangar to keep an eye out for a Loyalist pilot. Meanwhile, he would stop by the armory and then check out the personnel transport pads himself.

-----

The soft footsteps barely made a sound as Valerie walked down the corridor. Few people actually lived within the same building as the command center, but Dostya had been one of them. The series of disastrous events that had plagued humanity since X-day had left her very little time for leisure.

Thinking of Dostya caused Valerie’s emotional mask to slip for a second and she closed her eyes in pain. She had grown to respect and even admire Dostya over the years. She had given Valerie a chance at a normal life when everyone else would have turned her away.

The memories were so intense that Valerie was startled when she saw a figure waiting for her around the corner. It was Kazuo, her husband. Valerie flinched as his gaze settled upon her, but then shook her head: “I have to do this, she was my Chaslain.”

“I know,” said Kazuo softly while stepping towards her. He took a hold of her hand and then gazed at her lovingly: “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

For a moment, Valerie felt her emotions threaten to rip apart the barriers that allowed her to function. Kazuo, having gotten to know her pretty well, merely nodded and led the way to Dostya’s quarters without saying a word. Valerie took comfort in the simple fact that her husband knew her well enough to respect her boundaries. There would be time to grieve later when all of this was over. Right now, both would only share the silence of their mutual bond.

Kazuo’s grasp on Valerie’s hand suddenly tightened, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something ahead: “The door is already open.”

The words quickened Valerie’s heartbeat and she sprang ahead. She stepped inside Dostya’s quarters, her eyes scanning frantically for the one item that held the most significance to her. Kazuo arrived a second later: “The plasma blade?”

Valerie’s gaze scanned the room one last time before darkening: “Someone’s going to die for this!”

-----

The air hummed to life as the generators accumulated the necessary charge to power the quantum personnel transport. Fletcher tightened his grip on the pulse handgun that he had taken from the armory and stealthily made his way down the corridor. His instincts had been right; the Loyalist was attempting to escape and judging by the sound, she was only moments away from succeeding.

There was no time to call for reinforcements and Fletcher took a steadying breath before stepping around the corner and aiming his blaster: “Freeze!”

The lone figure had his back turned to Fletcher and the UEF pilot kept his weapon aimed at his head as he spoke: “Put your hands where I can see them.”

The intruder raised his hands slowly, but turned his head ever so slightly to look at Fletcher from the corner of his eye. For a moment, the UEF pilot was taken aback that he had caught a Cybran instead of the Loyalist, but the circumstances were no less suspect. Quantum travel, even something with a very low signature like a personnel transports, were strictly regulated and monitored by HQ. The fact that the Cybran was here alone suggested that he had not been granted permission to leave.

“You’re not the one that I was expecting to catch,” muttered Fletcher while taking a step to the side to get a better look at the nearby terminal: “But you’ll do just as well. First a Loyalist moves past security and now here you are, trying to get off the Node without anyone noticing. That’s rather convenient…”

The lack of any answer was all the proof that Fletcher needed and he fetched the transmitter out of his pocket without ever looking away from his prisoner: “Fletcher to HQ.”

A few seconds passed without any answer and Fletcher pressed the button again, his gaze invariably darting towards the transmitter’s small screen: “HQ, come in.”

There was only static, a clear indication that his signal was being jammed. Fletcher looked back towards the Cybran with a sneer on his face just as the latter dropped a miniature flashbang while jumping aside. The burst of light blinded Fletcher who fired in quick succession while falling back. From the sound of it, the first shot struck a wall while the second shattered a computer terminal. A hand closed over Fletcher’s wrist and twisted it at a painful angle before he could fire a third shot.

The UEF pilot struck back with his free hand, but missed because of his blurry vision. A knee strike in the stomach knocked out his breath and was followed by a punch to the throat that sent him crashing to the ground. Fletcher tried to shield himself, only then realizing that the blaster had been torn from his hand as he fell. He drew in a ragged breath even as his vision cleared, revealing the Cybran who had the blaster aimed at his head.

Even though pulse blasters were designed to stun, a shot aimed at vulnerable spot at this range would kill Fletcher or leave him crippled for life. Strangely enough, Fletcher was not afraid, but rather furious. Deep down, he had always known that the Alliance was a mistake and that he would meet his end at the hands of one of their supposed allies.

“Go ahead, do it!” croaked Fletcher viciously at his aggressor: “That’ll prove to everyone that I was right; you Cybrans are no better than animals! You’ll…”

There was not even a hint of remorse in Bagby’s eyes as he knocked out Fletcher with well placed strike to the temple.

-----

The three Cybran Commandos and the Loyalist pilot ran down the street that would lead them to the node’s headquarters. They were only a hundred meter away when Sjet slowed down while taking a hold of Queren by the arm: “Damn it… um… Keith?”

Keith stopped briefly and looked back, only then noticing the tension on the other two commandos’ faces. The advantage of drinking Minerva Swamp was that the hazy state could easily be countered with sobriety pills. The major downside was that the pills worked by quickly evacuating the toxins through the urine. The efficiency behind the process meant that holding back was not a viable option.

“We’re heading to HQ,” said Keith quickly while waving away the question that Thalia would no doubt ask of him. The Commando then nodded towards an adjacent building: “Check the personnel transport hubs when you’re done. Queren, keys.”

The silent Commando immediately unhooked his wrist computer and threw it to his superior. Keith then motioned for Thalia to follow as he ran once again towards the node’s headquarters. They reached it a moment later and Thalia waited until they were in the elevator before asking a question: “Bagby took your wrist computer?”

“They have our security keys,” said Keith while pressing a button on the wrist computer to grant them access to the command center. The elevator’s doors closed automatically and they started traveling up: “With my clearance, he can probably access any area of the Node without leaving a trail that would instantly alert HQ. Wrist computers are configured to recognize different users and enable the keys if his security clearance is high enough. It’s a failsafe in case the node is under attack and the original wearer is killed.”

Thalia’s eyes widened as the pieces slowly fell into place: “And Bagby…”

“Has a high enough security clearance to activate my keys,” confirmed Keith with a wince. Thalia would have normally left it at that, but the lines of stress on Keith’s forehead told her that there was something else that he was not telling her: “Forgive me for noticing, but it almost seems as if you are not surprised by Bagby’s behavior.”

Keith looked to the Loyalist for a split second before shaking his head in distress: “I should have seen it coming. Dostya was the only reason that Bagby didn’t go berserk when Mather died. Now there’s nothing holding him back.”

The elevator stopped, cutting off the rest of their conversation. The two of them walked down a corridor and the doors opened as soon as they reached the command center. Thalia immediately noticed that there were too many pilots already in the room; Desjar, Hall, Valerie and Kazuo. Keith, however, chose to ignore it and spoke above the tumult of voices: “Seal off the node and don’t let anyone leave. Pay special attention to the hangar.”

Desjar turned towards the Commando and frowned: “Keith? What’s going on?”

Keith had been about to wave the question away, but Valerie suddenly blocked his path: “Where is Dostya’s plasma blade?”

Post mortem concerns were the last thing on Keith’s mind as he tried to sidestep the former Assumpta: “There’s no time for…”

“Now!” barked Valerie while taking a hold of Keith’s uniform and forcing him to stop. Kazuo immediately stepped forward and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder even though his words were directed at Keith: “It is a matter of grave importance.”

“Did Bagby take it using Keith’s wrist computer?” asked Thalia before anyone else could say anything. All eyes in the command center turned to her even as she shook her head: “I fear that he will use it to fuel his revenge.”

A disturbing silence fell upon the command center as everyone considered the possibility. It was Hall, still standing on the elevated portion of the room, who finally cleared his throat to grab everyone’s attention: “Seal off the node and find him.”

Desjar then nodded, trying to build positive momentum by following Hall’s lead: “The Seven Hand Node disappeared the moment that we learned of Hex-Five’s betrayal. If Bagby does not know where to look…”

“He does now,” came the interruption as Slate stepped inside the command center. The Chimera clutched the side of his head and had to lean against the wall for support as he spoke: “Bagby has my files, everything that I had concerning Hex-Five.”

A collective shock ran through everyone as they stared at Slate. Desjar was the first to recover: “You just gave a Cybran who was mad with grief everything that he needed to track his daughter’s murderer? What did you think would happen?”

“I wanted him to know that we were doing everything that we could to catch him!” whined Slate while slumping back to his post. The analyst’s unblinking eyes darted around woozily for a second before he spoke again: “Besides, I’m not an idiot. I revoked all of his piloting accesses before meeting with him. There’s not a single machine left that he can pilot.”

“He’ll find a way,” warned Thalia ominously, drawing mute nods from those around her. A light suddenly blinked on Keith’s wrist computer and he pressed a button: “Go ahead, Sjet.”

“We just found General Fletcher, he’s been left unconscious outside a personnel transport hub,” said Sjet urgently. The Commando hesitated a second before adding: “It has recently been used.”

Keith immediately turned his gaze towards Slate: “Where did he gate to?”

The Chimera analyst typed the request on his console and his eyes widened as soon as the result appeared: “That can’t be right.”

-----

Metallic fingers tapped rhythmically upon the edge of the console, the sound echoing in the dark room. Remorseless eyes gazed upon the display screen, noting the violence of the confrontation. No one had been killed… yet.

The battle in itself was not unexpected, especially in the Assumpta Node. Here criminals of all shapes and sizes were either remolded into precise killing machines or broken altogether. Those that rose above the norm became ACU pilots which were the only ones that held any power. While most would never be accepted again in any other node afterwards, they would instead become feared and respected.

Every Cybran knew that visiting the Assumpta Node was akin to walking through a densely packed crowd with a knife pressed against your throat. One had best move carefully under those conditions. So while it was not unusual for a fight to explode, it was still unexpected for an outsider to be at the center of it. Of course, Redfog had foreseen that it would happen and he pressed a button on his console: “Let him pass.”

Every Assumpta moved away from the outsider immediately, obeying their master’s command. Outside the node, Redfog’s word carried the full weight of Assumpta’s terrifying might. Inside, his word was the law, ranking above anything made or imagined by man. Not even a god would hold more authority here.

Redfog shut down the display and waited patiently for his guest to arrive. When the door opened, the eyes that gazed back at him were not the jovial ones that the galaxy had known. Instead, they reflected the same intensity and cold hearted fury of any other Assumpta. Redfog recognized those eyes just as easily as the plasma blade that was strapped to the pilot’s back: “I was wondering when you would come…”

-----

Slate simply stood frozen in place with a finger held up. For a moment, Desjar feared that the analyst was just suffering from the after effects of a concussion, but Slate finally managed to mentally process the information and nod: “According to this, he went to the Assumpta Node.”

“I thought Redfog did not like him,” commented Desjar, remembering some of the tall tales that he had heard at one point or another in Bagby’s bar.

“Redfog doesn’t like anybody,” added Keith without even thinking. He soon found Valerie’s gaze staring straight back at him and he shrugged apologetically: “No offense intended.”

“He’s going to get himself killed,” urged Kazuo, doing his best to get the conversation back on track. Valerie stared menacingly at Keith for a few seconds longer before speaking: “I’ll stop him.”

“I will come along,” added Thalia immediately. The former Assumpta shook her head without even bothering to look at the Loyalist: “No.”

The lack of consideration combined with Bagby’s grim fate forced Thalia to insist: “But I can help!”

The assassin whirled on Thalia, her gaze uncompromising: “I don’t care what stories you heard or how many Cybrans you befriended. You are not ready for the Assumpta Node. Few ever are.”

“I will not abandon him,” insisted Thalia while refusing to back down. The Loyalist pilot squared her shoulders and raised her head: “If he is as mad with grief as you all fear then what do you believe will happen when you catch up to him?”

For a moment, it seemed as though Valerie would merely ignore the Loyalist and walk out on her own. Kazuo placed a hand on her shoulder then, his eyes insistent as he gazed lovingly into her eyes. Valerie hesitated a moment longer before nodding back to Thalia: “Walk behind me and keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise.”

Thalia nodded, glad for the opportunity. She gazed down reflexively at the luminous outline of her uniform: “I’ll take the time to remove my armor.”

“Keep it,” snapped Valerie while moving towards the exit: “No one steps in the Assumpta Node unarmed.”

Chapter 4
Scars of the Assumpta

Part of me hates you. I have seen only a fraction of your depravity, of how perfectly inhuman you can be, and I shudder at the thought of how far you can go. For many years, whenever I imagined what an evil Cybran should look like, yours was the face that sprung to mind. It is therefore the greatest of ironies that only someone as twisted as you could cast such a truthful reflection to the rest of us.

A knife can kill, but it can also be used to cut open and reveal what is eating at us. You sliced me, forced me to face my fears instead of letting me slowly sink into nothing. You were brutal and merciless in your approach, but also truthful and honest. You hurt me and yet if you had not then I would have died long before now. Some part of me will always hate you... but another appreciates how you changed me.

Even though you most likely do not want it, I hope that this truth will give you some measure of solace.

-----

“Be careful,” whispered Kazuo softly as he handed the last of the throwing knives to his wife. Thalia watched the blade disappear in Valerie’s hands in a flash, but what truly caught her attention was the way that the former Assumpta looked back at her husband. Her eyes shone with love, but the rest of her body tried to hide it, almost as if what they shared was meant only for the two of them. It was as though Valerie somehow feared that others would see her love as a sign of weakness.

Of all the cultural differences that Thalia had encountered since the formation of the Alliance, this was perhaps the one that was most alien to her. The Loyalist pilot waited silently near the personnel capsule until Valerie walked up to her: “Is the Assumpta Node truly as horrible as some make it sound?”

“No,” said Valerie sharply, her eyes now as hard as steel. Both took their respective seats and the door closed behind them as the former Assumpta added: “It is worse.”

Bolts of electricity flared outside the capsule as the generators hummed to life. Thalia uttered a silent prayer even as vibrations coursed through her seat. She was used to quantum travel, but Cybran personnel capsules were designed to minimize their signatures as they travelled through the quantum network. It would be a bumpy ride, but the Loyalist’s train of thought was interrupted before she could dwell on it any further.

A bright flash filled the cockpit followed by a gut wrenching pull that felt as though Thalia had left some part of her behind. The ride ended as quickly as it had begun and Valerie immediately unbuckled her safety belt. The Loyalist did the same and watched the former Assumpta flex her hands twice before turning to the capsule’s door. Valerie paused momentarily, turning her head slightly so that she could glance at Thalia from the corner of her eye: “From this point onward, I do the talking. Walk half a step behind me and do not stray.”

The Loyalist nodded silently and Valerie glared at her for a second longer before finally opening the door. The two of them stepped out of the capsule just as the shield wall retracted, exposing the rest of the quantum nexus. Grim faced technicians moved around, their hands ready to grasp the weapons at their belts. Valerie ignored them all and walked towards the deck master waiting for them near a console. Thalia followed and nearly slipped as she took her first step. Only then did she look down and notice the fresh traces of blood on the ground.

The first thought that sprung to mind was that someone needed medical attention and Thalia glanced around to see who it was. A sharp hiss from Valerie reminded her that she needed to stay focused and she fell in line with the former Assumpta. They reached the Cybran at the main console and noticed the web of bruises that covered his face. One eye was nearly swollen shut and Thalia could not imagine why he was not seeking medical attention. The Cybran’s remaining good eye narrowed as he spoke: “You stooped so low as to return home.”

No warm greeting or even an acknowledgement of past deeds. If Valerie was affected in any way, she did not show it: “I must see Redfog.”

“Many do,” said the deck master. The man turned his remaining good eye towards Thalia and frowned. He then leaned forward while placing both hands on his console and spat, the saliva mixed with blood coming within an inch of Thalia’s boot. The Loyalist took an involuntary step backward even as the deck master grinned: “But I don’t see why I should let you pass without a proper invitation.”

Valerie’s hand flashed forward just as the other Cybran finished his sentence, a knife appearing as if by magic before she planted it right between his fingers. The other Cybran barely suppressed a yelp and cringed as Valerie leaned forward: “That’s one reason and I can come up with others.”

Thalia’s heart thumped furiously in her chest as she gazed repeatedly between the two Cybrans. This was not an idle threat, not if one considered Valerie’s stance or how her body was ready to spring forward. Only then did the Loyalist realize that Assumptas did not jest, boast or flaunt their skills uselessly. The display of skill and determination was not a game.

The deck master looked furiously at Valerie for a few seconds longer before twisting his head to the side: “Kleiin!”

A small boy, probably no more than twelve years old, suddenly stepped into view. Thalia’s dismay only grew when she realized that despite his age, the boy’s eyes reflected the same coldness as the adults that surrounded him. The deck master nodded back towards Valerie, but spoke to the boy: “Guide them to the main compound.”

Only then did Valerie take her blade back and hide it under her forearm. The deck master rubbed his uninjured hand nervously as he added: “On foot.”

The boy’s eyes widened, showing his surprise and for a split second, a trace amount of fear. The emotionless mask reappeared almost instantly and he bowed his head ever so slightly towards Valerie before walking towards the exit. The former Assumpta wisely held back a resigned sigh before motioning for Thalia to follow.

-----

Everything was blurry as dizziness threatened to plunge Fletcher back into unconsciousness. A bright light suddenly flashed in front of the pilot’s eyes, accentuating his painful headache. Fletcher brought a hand to shield his face, a groan escaping him: “Stop it.”

Someone tried to gently move Fletcher’s hand away, but his vision was quickly coming back into focus and he immediately noticed that it was a Cybran medic who was attending him. The UEF pilot reacted without thinking, shoving the Cybran away with a snarl on his face: “Get the hell away from me!”

“Calm down, General Fletcher,” came Hall’s stern reply from a few steps away. Fletcher grunted his frustration away as he got back to his feet: “A Cybran spy! There’s a Loyalist moving through the base as well!”

“Commander Thalia,” said Hall knowingly. The General’s calm demeanor alarmed Fletcher who felt his insides twist as Hall added: “She went after Bagby and hopefully we will recover him before he does something foolish.”

“Recover?” echoed Fletcher incredulously: “The man is a menace! It’s past time that we deal with traitors the old fashioned way.”

The medic’s eyes flashed angrily and he closed his emergency kit before storming off. Meanwhile, Hall’s tone grew even more serious: “Things are more complicated than they seem, General.”

Fletcher shook his head, ignoring the pounding in his head as he did so: “Complicated? Are you just going to let this go?”

Hall straightened, clearly not enjoying where this conversation was heading: “We’ll work with our allies to recover Bagby and stop the Seven Hand Node.”

“How many deaths and traitors do you need before you put a stop to this?” protested Fletcher loudly. This time, the UEF pilot’s behavior had crossed the line and Hall’s tone grew as sharp as a whip: “General Fletcher!”

Fletcher straightened automatically, swallowing his pride for the moment. Hall glared at him a second longer before speaking: “Report to the infirmary. If they clear you then I’ll want you in the hangar. We’ll need every pilot that we can get especially if we manage to track down the Seven Hand Node. Is that understood?”

There was no room for compromise in Hall’s tone. At that moment, Fletcher realized that Hall would risk much to safeguard the Alliance even if it meant risking and, in time, sacrificing the lives of UEF pilots. This naïve attitude would persist even should they defeat the Seraphim. After the latest incident, Fletcher could no longer accept that, but there was nothing that he could do about it for now: “Yes, sir.”

-----

The doors to the quantum nexus closed behind the two pilots and their guide with a loud bang. Thalia looked at the dismal streets that awaited them and shook her head in frustration: “Why are we going to see Redfog? We should be looking for Bagby!”

“Bagby was here,” stated Valerie as a matter of fact while motioning for the small boy guiding them to lead the way: “Judging by how fresh the blood was and the deck master’s wounds then he’s most likely the one who started the fight.”

“You think Redfog captured him?” asked Thalia, her voice rising anxiously. It was hard not to imagine the worst, especially after all the stories that she had heard followed by their confrontational greeting.

“I think someone intervened,” clarified Valerie, her eyes darting left and right as if she was expecting someone to attack. The former Assumpta barely looked at Thalia for a fraction of a second before nodding: “I don’t think that there was enough blood for anyone to have been killed. Keep your voice down in the meantime.”

The harshness in Valerie’s tone warned Thalia that this was neither the place nor the time to discuss Bagby’s face. The Loyalist pilot therefore steeled herself, somehow thinking that she could mentally prepare herself for anything that the node of assassins had to offer. She was wrong.

Barely two minutes of walking later, the two pilots and their guide came around a corner and stepped into a street bustling with activity. Scarcely clad Cybrans lined both sides of the road, making slow and suggestive gestures to the passerby. Thalia felt her entire face flush and she spoke without even realizing it: “What is this place?”

“A brothel,” said Valerie without as much as a hint of hesitation. The former Assumpta nodded to their guide, apparently approving of the course. She then turned to the troubled Loyalist and shrugged: “Sexual favors are still the best way to attract the good graces of those in power. It can grant a commoner a higher status… until the pilot grows bored or dies that is.”

“But why are we here?” asked Thalia timidly even as she followed. The Loyalist invariably crossed her arms and shrunk away from everyone that they crossed. Intimacy was not really an issue in the Illuminate, but such an open display of carnal desires was both alien and frightening. A moan of pleasure caused Thalia’s to look to her left and she immediately averted her gaze when she realized that one couple was indulging their desires in a side street.

If Valerie was disturbed in any way, she did not show it as she spoke: “Our guide is good; few fights explode in such places because of the dangers of accidentally wounding a favorite. Some skilled commoners can acquire a semblance of power here.”

By averting her gaze, Thalia had accidentally looked to her right. There two Cybran women were looking at her, one whose gaze somehow latched on to her own while the other made the Loyalist feel naked as she languorously looked down her body. Homosexuality was also not something uncommon in the Illuminate, but like all things, the act was meant to be a result of an emotional attachment and not a prelude to it.

A shudder coursed through Thalia’s spine as one Cybran closed in on the other a licked her cheek sensually, their eyes never leaving the Loyalist. What they were offering was as plain as the clothes that they wore and yet it was as disturbing as looking at a pair of vicious snakes. Neither Cybran truly wanted to please or comfort Thalia. What they craved was the power that an ACU pilot, even one who was not a Cybran, represented.

They were predators, attempting to enslave their victims with the promises of physical bliss instead of the threat of a blade. Despite their apparent lack of physical prowess, they were as hungry and vicious as the assassins that governed them. Thalia looked down at her feet, feeling sick to her stomach: “I do not see why anyone would sell their body for such false power!”

“It is a temporary reprieve,” observed Valerie while gesturing towards a side street: “Which is why they must use the time to get more.”

Thalia did not want to look in the direction that Valerie had gestured towards, but part of her knew that she should. Bagby had once lived here and understanding the Assumpta could very well be the key to saving him. The Loyalist therefore looked up and a sliver of hope resurfaced in her heart when she saw a prostitute talk to what appeared to be her daughter. Thankfully, the child was dressed in a full jumpsuit, making it clear that she was not part of the sinister setting. Valerie nodded, a trace of regret slipping into her voice: “A prominent son or daughter might be enough to grant one of those women peace of mind for the rest of her days… or until her child dies.”

The child suddenly said something that surprised her mother. The prostitute immediately straightened and slapped the child three times in a row. A fourth strike sent a fresh splat of blood flying against the wall followed by an agonizing cry. Thalia took a step forward, but Valerie blocked her path before she could take another: “It’s not your place!”

“She is a child!” protested Thalia furiously, barely keeping herself from pushing the former Assumpta out of her way. Valerie’s entire body tensed in response and her eyes darkened: “Who is better off wounded than dead.”

The declaration stopped Thalia and she looked back towards the child and her mother. The beating had thankfully stopped and the child had not fled despite the blood that oozed from her nose. Meanwhile the mother kept speaking, her words inaudible at this distance. Even so, Thalia could see the anger in the child’s eyes: “She will hate her mother.”

“She will,” said Valerie while taking a hold of Thalia’s arm and urging her forward. A trace of sadness crossed the former Assumpta’s face before disappearing entirely: “But here, it is better to be hated than forgotten.”

It took them a few minutes longer to make their way out of the district and back on a nearly deserted street. Somehow, the gloomy setting felt almost safer in comparison to the brothel and that thought disturbed Thalia more profoundly than she liked to admit: “Why would anyone chose to remain here?”

“The alternative is death,” said Valerie while shaking her head. The former Assumpta let go of Thalia’s arm as she explained: “Everything here is a struggle for station. Those in power have absolute control over those under them. Commoners barely have the right to live, having either been born here or outcast from other nodes. None but the Assumpta would take them in and this is their prison. The alternative is to strike out on their own... and none can survive that fate.”

Valerie’s eyes darted towards the boy who was escorting them: “Their only hope is to either earn the favor of those in power by demonstrating valuable skills or rise in station through their deeds, much like what our guide is attempting to do.”

“And then they can be free?” asked Thalia hopefully. Valerie immediately shook her head: “The rise in station is brutal, often involving pain, torture and death. Those that manage to survive change, becoming the very monsters that they loathed when they were commoners.”

Valerie’s gaze became slightly distant, almost as if she was reliving part of her former life: “Should you rise to become an ACU pilot, the gazes of those under you will always reflect fear and reluctant respect… the same type of gaze that one faces when encountering Cybrans from other nodes. You grow to expect and on some level, even enjoy it. You start thinking that any other type of gaze either belongs to a liar or a fool.”

A glimmer of understanding appeared in Thalia’s eyes as she finally caught on: “But you escaped this?”

Valerie paused and considered the question for a moment before finally shaking her head: “No one escapes the Assumpa Node, not completely.”

Their guide suddenly hissed and darted left while motioning for the two pilots to do the same. Valerie melded into the shadow instantly while Thalia found herself regretting the lights that danced along her armor. The booming voice of a Cybran came around the corner just then: “You bastard! I’m going to kill you! I’m really going to kill you!”

“Bring it on!” cried another Cybran defiantly. A fight exploded, followed by the sound of kicking, punching and grunting. Judging by the sound, what was happening around the corner was not a battle between professionals, but a chaotic scuffle. Thalia almost wanted to activate her suit and put an end to the meaningless violence, but she was interrupted by a loud thud followed by a wet splashing sound.

The strange sound was repeated two times before it was followed by a feral cry aimed at the heavens: “How do you like that? No one can kill me, you hear? Nobody!”

The fight was apparently over and one of the contestants came lurching around the corner. He was covered from head to toe with blood and he held a large rock in his hands. Normally, the Cybran would have kept walking, but he saw the light from Thalia’s armor from the corner of his eye and turned a vicious snarl towards her. Their guide immediately sprung into action, taking a defensive pose between them with a knife in hand.

The bloodied Cybran snarled at the open display of defiance and spat a broken tooth on the ground: “What are you looking at, you little punk?”

The guide did not answer, the boy’s gaze locked on the bloodied Cybran without showing a trace of fear. The aggressor took a threatening step forward while brandishing his rock: “Answer me!”

The boy threw his blade in a flash, the tip plunging merely an inch in front of the Cybran’s boot. Another throwing knife appeared in the guide’s hand, making it clear that there would not be a second warning. The bloodied Cybran snarled once more in defiance before dropping his rock uselessly to the ground and walking away.

Thalia stood perfectly still for several seconds before finally sighing in relief: “This is madness. For a moment, he almost seemed as though he would have attacked even though he was outnumbered.”

“We’re not meant to intervene,” said Valerie harshly while stepping out of the Shadow. The former Assumpta watched the boy recover his blade from the ground and merely shrugged: “It is our guide’s task to defend us and not the other way around. We could only get involved if the attacker used excessive force.”

The mere notion seemed completely aberrant and yet Thalia realized that this was the way of the Assumpta. The three of them resumed walking and encountered no further interruptions. It took them another thirty minutes before the boy stopped and pointed a finger towards the large structure that loomed ahead.

Thalia took a step towards the boy, intent upon thanking him and perhaps squeeze his hand reassuringly. She wanted to let him know that not everything was dark in this world but the boy took a step back, his gaze alert and wary.

Valerie, realizing what Thalia was trying to do, slowly took out one of her best throwing knives and unfastened the straps that allowed her to hide it on her forearm. She then handed both towards their guide who looked it with interest: “Twist to release and strike. Learn how to use it.”

The boy’s eyes shone with eagerness as he took the blade. Valerie then nodded at him: “Now go.”

The boy ran away without a word and disappeared within the shadows. Thalia felt her heart sink when she realized that a gift of death was more appreciated here than a loving embrace. She turned to Valerie who only nodded: “Be mindful of your manners and stay silent unless spoken to. Redfog’s word is final.”

-----

Redfog watched his two newest guests step inside the chamber. His gaze first turned towards Valerie and he barely nodded, acknowledging her despite the fact that she was no longer part of his node. He then turned to Thalia: “Welcome to the Assumpta Node.”

The words were empty of any warmth, merely a formality extended to a confused guest. Even so, Thalia was duty bound to acknowledge them: “Thank you.”

Valerie cast Thalia a vicious glare, silently reminding her to let her do the talking. Redfog noticed this as well and the trace of a smile appeared under his mask as he spoke: “You are looking for Bagby.”

“We are,” confirmed Valerie, her tone both neutral and humble. The leader of the Assumpta Node nodded and started pacing through the room: “He gated here not long ago. A fight exploded when the deck master tried to deny him access. I intervened.”

Redfog let the words hang in the air for a few seconds before turning towards Valerie: “He asked for the right of Stolvekan.”

Thalia, having seen Valerie keep her cool through their trip to the node, grew alarmed when the former Assumpta’s mouth fell open. Valerie managed to regain her composure shortly afterwards and her gaze drifted down: “May I requisition his body so that proper funeral rights may be followed?”

Thalia gasped, her heart sinking. Had Bagby come here only to perform some kind of ritual suicide? That couldn’t be! Why would he have taken Slate’s data if that was his intent? The Loyalist’s desperate gaze went to Redfog who held it for a few seconds before speaking: “I granted his request.”

This time, it was Valerie’s turn to gasp. Redfog took a step closer to Valerie, his voice stern yet oddly gentle: “You were not the first who managed to leave the Assumpta Node and survive.”

What was going on? What did the right of Stolvekan mean? The suspense was killing Thalia and it appeared that Valerie was numb from the news. The Loyalist finally placed both hands pleadingly in front of her like a chalice: “Please, I do not understand.”

Redfog turned towards the Loyalist, his intense, hate filled eyes seeming to pierce her very soul. He studied her for a second longer before speaking: “The Stolvenkan is a right that has rarely been invoked. Sometimes, a desire for vengeance runs so deep that it supersedes everything else. When that happens, an Assumpta pilot can come to the one bearing the title of Redfog and ask for an ACU to accomplish his revenge.”

The assassin turned away and started walking back towards his console as he spoke: “My role is to determine if the desire for revenge is true and if the pilot has the necessary skills to accomplish a carnage worthy of the Assumpa. If so then an ACU is granted with any and all restrictions lifted from the pilot. If not, then it becomes my task to end his life.”

Redfog turned back towards both his guests and spoke in an ominous voice: “Bagby will track down the Seven Hand Node and either kill them all or die in the attempt.”

“None who have invoked the right of Stolvekan have ever survived and only a handful in history succeeded in accomplishing their revenge,” added the leader of the Assumpta Node without a hint of regret. He smiled under his mask as he added: “But all have left a carnage worthy of the Assumpta. I am eager to see how a pilot like Bagby will turn out.”

“We can’t let that happen,” protested Thalia while turning to Valerie. The former Assumpta was still numb from the news and the Loyalist turned back to Redfog: “We must save him!”

Redfog shrugged, all trace of eagerness gone from his voice: “His fate is of no concern to me.”

“You gave him the ACU, you are responsible for this!” cried Thalia accusingly. The outburst finally snapped Valerie out of her stupor and she hissed sharply while taking a hold of Thalia’s arm: “Don’t push it…”

“I owe him nothing,” said Redfog menacingly. His voice seemed to echo through the room as he spoke: “The Assumpta Node repays favors and plays its part in the Alliance. I had no dealings with Bagby nor is it in the Alliance’s best interest to participate in personal vendettas. If anything, the Seven Hand Node has probably been sold out by the Seraphim to buy time to...”

“He went for Dostya!” interrupted Thalia desperately while shaking free of Valerie’s grasp: “If you owe nothing to him then what do you owe her?”

The point of a knife suddenly appeared under Thalia’s throat, cutting off the rest of her argument. Valerie scowled fiercely as she whispered: “That’s over the line!”

The former Assumpta’s gaze drifted to Redfog and noticed the fury in his eyes. However, if the leader of the Assumpta Node intended to kill the impudent Loyalist then he made no move to do so. Valerie sighed in relief, glad that Redfog was in such a charitable mood. She then whispered harshly to Thalia: “Every minute spent here is one less to save Bagby. Think about that! Now it’s time to go.”

-----

He was angry…

That was hardly uncommon in Redfog’s case. As long as he lived then there would always be something to hate. No, the only thing that was uncommon was that this was one of the rare cases where he was angry and that he couldn’t exactly tell why.

Was it the Loyalist’s fault? She had yet to reach the quantum nexus and he could have her killed at any time if he wanted. No, that wasn’t it. She had spoken impulsively without thinking or making any real attempt to manipulate him. She was like a child; overwhelmed by the cruelty that was part of the Assumpta’s way of life. Besides, he had been angry before she had even come here.

Redfog’s gaze shifted to the package which rested near the console. He knew what it held even though he had not yet opened it. He did not want it.

A snarl escaped Redfog as he suddenly stormed out of the room, leaving the package and the chip it held behind.

Chapter 5
A Withered Flower

What you and I had was special. It helped me carry on in times when I would have liked nothing better than to give up. It might have started as a dare, but over the past few months it grew into something tangible and I only regret that it will not get the chance to grow any further.

I will miss you and even though it was brief, I want you to know that I loved every moment that we spent together. Remember me fondly.

-----

The Cybran hummed softly as her fingers wove an elegant pattern into the air. Vitter watched his wife as she knitted yet another blanket for him. It was a recent if strange tradition, but one that he enjoyed immensely. Somehow, sleeping with a blanket that was handmade and therefore imperfect always felt more comfortable than using synthetic sheets.

Of course, such luxuries were temporary at best. Vitter could not afford to waste time transporting any such items with them whenever they changed sectors. The leader of the small supply outpost had to worry first and foremost about everything else: medical supplies, precious enzymes and the latest biological samples. Blankets could be replaced, but people or the lives that his supplies would save could not.

There were only five people in the settlement. Moto was their resident ACU pilot and the one responsible for quickly evacuating the node at the first hint of detection. Opal was the student under him and the one in charge of their protection whenever Moto slept. Chrome, who was currently away investigating the need for medical supplies in another node, was their medical officer. Finally, Vitter oversaw the operation with the support of his wife.

Together, they were in charge of Cache Eighty-Two, a small outpost dedicated to the storage and safekeeping of hard to manufacture goods. Their specialty was biological and medical supplies. Each node was mostly self sufficient in terms of basic needs and sometimes, they encountered particularly productive periods. Whenever their stocks rose to a point where keeping them would endanger their evacuation protocol, they would turn to small cache settlements, people who could keep the goods safe through stealth and speed. Some thought of cache owners as nothing more than glorified mobile banks, but Vitter knew that they were playing a vital economic role in the Cybran Nation.

The humming stopped and Vitter looked back to his wife as she presented the blanket to him. A flower had been woven in it, a mixture of green, orange, red and yellow that danced in a subtle yet elegant pattern. The cache owner smiled just as his transmitter burst to life and Moto’s voice came through: “Moving in to dock. Get over here Opal.”

A sigh of relief escaped Vitter as he heard the good news. Moto never left Opal in charge unless he was absolutely certain that they were out of danger. Maybe the cache owner would get a chance to sleep soundly with his new blanket after all. That thought was erased when an explosion suddenly shook the settlement. Vitter grabbed his transmitter instantly and walked towards his console: “Moto, come in!”

There was no answer and a push of a button allowed Vitter to access the camera of their small hangar. Moto and Opal lay unconscious next to the ACU. The explosion had occurred at the exact moment that the pilot and his student had been about to switch places. Vitter twisted the camera to the side and his eyes widened when he saw sparks flying from the ACU’s cockpit. There was no doubt about it; someone had infiltrated their settlement and even went as far as to sabotage its only ACU!

Vitter immediately ran back to his wife and caught her by the hand: “Come on, we have to move!”

They left the blanket behind and ran straight for the door. If they could just reach their escape pod then maybe, just maybe, they could flee before whoever was here caught up to them. The door opened as soon as Vitter reached it and his mouth opened wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief: “Bagby? What…”

Vitter’s words were interrupted by a blow to the jaw that sent him flying backwards. The cache owner fell to the ground hard and felt a hand grasp him by the throat before he could even cry out. Vitter looked up at Bagby’s remorseless eyes as the pilot gazed around the room. Bagby looked at the discarded blanket for a second before turning on Vitter’s wife who lay terrified in a corner.

The pressure on Vitter’s throat increased substantially and the cache owner croaked a single word as panic overwhelmed him: “Help!”

Vitter’s wife suddenly grabbed a hold of one of the knitting needles which had somehow rolled to her feet and charged. Bagby let go of Vitter and hopped out of the way. A surge of hope filled Vitter, but it disappeared instantly as Bagby’s reached for the plasma blade that was strapped to his back and struck in the blink of an eye.

Only a few drops of blood flew through the air as the plasma blade slashes into the woman’s forehead, slicing through bone and the forward portion of her brain with ease. Vitter watched in horror as his wife instantly collapsed to the ground, her entire body twitching. Bagby merely stood there, his gaze unforgiving as he took a threatening step towards the cache owner.

-----

All three Cybran commandos waited in the lounge next to the hangar with data pads in hand. The information that Slate had provided concerning the Seven Hand Node was extensive, but it could not pinpoint the exact location of their enemy. Sjet rubbed his forehead wearily even as Queren started pacing back and forth. The silent commando finally snapped and kicked a toolbox across the floor, spraying its content everywhere. Sjet looked at the scene and nodded: “Queren’s right; the wait is killing us.”

“Believe me, I know,” grumbled Keith while shaking his head. The leader of the commando unit sighed as he looked at his men: “But I still don’t have any idea where to look. I can’t figure out where Bagby would strike with this data, not if he’s fighting alone.”

Sjet’s eyes suddenly lit up as a thought occurred to him: “Maybe he’s waiting around somewhere for us to make our move before sneaking back in here to steal an ACU?”

“I don’t think he’s in a waiting mood,” commented Keith while rubbing the painful bruise on his neck. The sound of running footsteps suddenly caught all three commandos’ attention and they looked towards the door. One UEF pilot ran past them followed by a second and a third. Keith walked towards the door and spotted Kazuo as he ran towards his own ACU: “News?”

“Redfog gave Bagby an ACU,” said Kazuo without slowing down: “Thalia and Valerie just got back.”

Sjet slammed a hand against the wall in frustration: “Damn it! He could be anywhere by now!”

“Following the trail of destruction won’t help,” said Keith, his eyes darting left and right as he processed the information. Although he was not an ACU pilot nor a tactical analyst, he had worked alongside both long enough to guess what they would do: “They’ll rule out the obvious by going after Slate’s probable targets. In the meantime, we should focus on what we can do to narrow down the search.”

The sound of running footsteps alerted Keith that someone else was coming and he turned around just as Thalia appeared around the corner. A plan suddenly formed in his mind and he took a step to block her path: “We need your help.”

The Loyalist pilot slowed down slightly, but shook her head: “I am sorry, but I must gate to a deserted world as soon as possible to contact the Loyalist movement and enlist their aid.”

“That’s fine,” said Keith while gesturing for the other two commandos to fall in line: “But maybe you can drop us off in the process. There’s a world that’s deserted enough for the task, but which might enable us to narrow down where Bagby intends to strike.”

-----

Desjar jumped into his cockpit and quickly initiated the start up routine. ACUs through the hangar were each coming online and making their way towards different quantum gates. The situation had changed and although Valerie had not given them the specifics, she had made it clear that they were running out of time. Bagby had an ACU and that meant he could be anywhere by now.

Even though the Seven Hand Node was better known for its smuggling operations than its combat prowess, it still made use of the same Cybran stealth technology. Even an excellent pilot could sometimes find himself overwhelmed by a few average ones. Launching multiple raids might not guarantee that they would find Bagby in time, but it would hopefully distract their enemies.

Desjar’s console quickly lit up and he opened a link to all members of his team: “We’ll split into three groups led by me, Weisman and Flinn. We’ll then do a grid by grid search while coordinating our efforts with HQ and the rest of the Alliance. Find your targets and make sure to confirm that they are from the Seven Hand Node before engaging.”

“What if they surrender?” asked Flinn quickly. Desjar could tell by everyone’s reaction that no one liked the idea of letting traitors lived, but the fact remained that they needed every able body if they were to defeat the Seraphim: “Only accept unconditional surrenders and then let the Cybrans deal with them.”

A set of coordinates appeared on Desjar’s screen, confirming the location of the quantum gate that was assigned to him. He activated the personal teleportation upgrade of his ACU and nodded one last time to his team: “Remember that our primary objective is to find Bagby before he gets himself killed. I don’t want to bury anyone else today.”

-----

Fifteen minutes later, Thalia’s ACU stood upon a barren word; its gleaming hull standing as a sharp contrast compared to the twisted and misshapen rocks that surrounded it. Thalia had just finished sending a burst transmission to the Loyalist movement and eagerly waited for a response. Her eyes drifted to her quantum gate and part of her wanted to leave immediately in search of Bagby. She had made a promise, however, and she instead sent a second burst transmission back to the Cybran Node.

The quantum gate flashed a few seconds later and its dome opened, exposing a sleek Cybran transport. It would be a few minutes before the effect of the quantum wake would dissipate and Thalia opened a channel: “Are you certain that you will be all right?”

Keith appeared on her screen and nodded: “It’s our job, don’t worry about it. We’ll catch a ride back eventually and we have supplies for an extended stay if need be.”

The thought of leaving anyone behind did not sit well with Thalia and she frowned in consternation. Keith noticed this and smiled reassuringly: “Don’t worry, Vitter is a good guy. He has to deal with a lot of people and if anyone heard something that might help us narrow down where Bagby went then it’s him. It’s not much, but it’s the best that we can do to help.”

Thalia nodded, but still sent her spy planes in a wider pattern: “Let me just explore the area to make sure that no enemies are about.”

They had purposely gated three hundred kilometers away from the settlement in order to not attract any attention to it. The Commandos would have to travel the rest of the way without any ACU support. If the settlement had been attacked in the meantime then there would be no way for them to know about it.

Thalia’s spy planes were about to reach their operational limit when they detected something unexpected. The Loyalist frowned as she glanced at the data: “I am detecting the remains of a Cybran base. Judging by the wreckage, I would say that it was recently abandoned.”

Keith looked at the data from his transport and his eyes widened in surprise: “Lots of structures, but few units. I don’t think it was used to wage war, but rather to perform a stealth raid.”

The Commando looked back at the other two members of his team before nodding back to Thalia: “Let’s go!”

-----

Drops of blood ran down Vitter’s right hand in slow but steady drips and formed an ever growing pool at his feet. For a moment, the only thing that the cache owner wanted to do was fall into unconsciousness. His bruised and battered body screamed for him to do so and his hand responded to his subconscious desire by relaxing its grip.

The object that Vitter held slipped ever so slightly and jerked him fully awake. The cache owner’s grip tightened, forcing more blood out of the multiple gashes that covered his arm. The move was painful, but a simple look down reminded him of the alternative. A death switch grenade was in his hand; a parting gift from Bagby. If he let go of it then everything in the room would be vaporized in an instant.

Vitter looked up at his broken left hand which was shackled to the ceiling by a micro steel cable. As slim as it was, the cable was still strong enough to keep him bound like this indefinitely. The only way that he could be free was to somehow break his thumb and slip his hand loose, but the pain from even the slightest jerk threatened to render him unconscious. Vitter therefore waited and prayed that someone would find him before he collapsed.

No sooner had the thought formed into the cache owner’s mind that he heard something in the corridor outside his office. Had some debris shifted? No, that sounded more like footsteps. Was his mind slowly slipping into hopeless delusions? Vitter opened his mouth, but could barely muster a weak cry as the pain from his broken teeth threatened to overwhelm him: “Hey…”

The footsteps stopped, almost as if whoever was out there was trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Vitter pulled on the last of his strength and took a deep breath before screaming as loudly as he could: “Please help me!”

Someone ran down the corridor in response and Vitter prayed that this was not a hallucination. He looked towards the door just as Sjet took a peak through. The Commando’s eyes widened as soon as he noticed the grenade in Vitter’s hand: “Damn it, don’t move a muscle.”

Sjet walked carefully through the room while keeping an eye out for booby traps until he made his way to the cache owner. Once he reached him, he carefully took a hold of Vitter’s right hand and made sure that the grenade was secured before examining it. He then proceeded to disarm the explosive just as Keith appeared in the doorway: “What happened here?”

“Bagby came,” said Vitter with a wince even as Sjet started to slice the grenade’s outer casing with a nano laser: “He was completely crazy!”

Sjet turned to Keith and made a motion with his head, indicating that the leader of the commando team should take cover just in case. Vitter took what he feared would be his last breath as Sjet reached into the grenade and burned a tiny circuit. The arming lights on the grenade instantly vanished and everyone sighed in relief. Sjet took the grenade away, cut the micro steel cable and helped Vitter sit down as Keith stepped back into the room: “What did he want?”

Vitter cradled his broken hand against his chest and shook his head: “He kept asking about every contact I ever had, over and over again! I think he was looking for the Seven Hand Node…”

The cache owner’s eyes drifted back towards the door as two other people showed up. One was another Cybran commando, but the other was a Loyalist pilot. The presence of the latter unsettled him and Keith had to snap his fingers in front of his face to get his attention back: “What did you tell him?”

“I told him everything I knew!” said Vitter with a wince. He kept speaking to Keith even though his eyes followed Thalia as she walked towards the body of his wife: “I don’t think any of my usual contacts are even remotely linked to them. After all these years of trading with him and Bob…”

Sjet opened his medical kit and motioned for Vitter to remain seated: “Do you have any idea where he went?”

“I can’t be sure,” said Vitter while suddenly getting back up. The wounded Cybran took a few steps and blocked Thalia’s path. He shook his head, making it clear that he would not allow her to get any closer to his wife. Thalia took a respectful step backward and Vitter glared at her for a moment longer before turning back to Keith: “But you have to stop him before he does this again. One tragic loss is enough without adding more to it.”

Keith walked towards Vitter and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder: “I’m sorry.”

Emotions threatened to overwhelm Vitter as he slowly turned around and looked at the inert body of his wife: “I loved her.”

Something in the tone of the wounded Cybran’s voice caused Thalia to pause. What was she missing? Thalia understood that she did not know everything about Cybrans, but the more she studied the body language of the man in front of her, the more she was certain that he was trying to hide something from them. Why had Bagby come here? Why had he tortured the man and killed that defenseless woman? Why had…

Thalia’s eyes suddenly widened as they settled on the discarded blanket. She walked closer and lifted the elegant work of craftsmanship so the flower pattern would be visible to all: “Who was she?”

“She was my wife,” said Vitter defensively: “I loved her.”

“No, you did not,” accused Thalia while letting the blanket fall to the ground. The Loyalist pilot ignored the Commandos’ stunned glares and moved back towards Vitter. He tried to block her path once more, but Thalia easily managed to sidestep the wounded Cybran and made her way towards the body of his wife. She then reached down, her fingers tracing the outline of the wound along her forehead.

The display caused a surge of adrenaline to course through Vitter’s body and he tried to push the Loyalist away: “Get away from her!”

Thalia gracefully hopped away from the clumsy attack and swiped the trace amount of blood from her fingers on her wrist computer. The data was transmitted to her ACU, compared to the millions of files in its database and a match was instantly forwarded back. The Loyalists eyes darkened as she glared back towards the wounded Cybran: “Her name was Elanor Vintae and she was part of the Illuminate.”

Thalia gestured back towards the blanket: “That flower pattern comes from a fragile breed of plants that only exists on our core worlds. Only someone who has lived or raided there could be familiar with it.”

All three Cybran Commandos turned towards Vitter in shock. Vitter merely stared at Thalia with his mouth wide open, unable to think of a proper excuse. Keith walked closer to the corpse and yanked a hair from her head. He looked at the root and then turned back towards Vitter: “You dyed her hair black to hide the fact that they were once silver.”

Keith let the hair fall back to the ground, all trace of mercy gone from his eyes: “If I crack open her skull, will I find QAI’s implants replacing the largest portion of her brain?”

All three Commandos took a step closer to the cache owner. Queren and Keith looked furious while Sjet just shook his head in horror: “Vitter, you didn’t…”

“Don’t you dare judge me,” snapped Vitter while whirling on Sjet. The wounded Cybran jabber a finger towards the Commando as he spoke: “You know what they did to my first wife?”

Vitter turned back towards Thalia who had wisely remained at a distance: “The UEF enslaved her for the better part of her life and the Aeon Illuminate cleansed her barely months after she was freed! I just took back what they stole from me!”

“And Dostya?” asked Keith threateningly. Vitter looked away, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze: “I didn’t want this, but she’s not my concern.”

The next second seemed to happen in slow motion as Keith, blinded by rage, reached for his blaster and aimed at Vitter’s head. The leader of the commando team was fast, but Queren was faster and he managed to push the blaster away even as Keith pulled the trigger. A laser bolt flew past Vitter’s head and scorched his ear before slamming into the wall.

Sjet dodged to safety as Queren and Keith struggled for control of the blaster, sending a few more shots hurling through the room. Meanwhile, Thalia activated her power suit and reached forward, catching Keith’s hands from behind and forcing them towards the ceiling: “Keith, no!”

Thalia turned her gaze back towards Vitter and found the cache owner still alive and sobbing pitifully on the ground. As an ACU pilot, Thalia prided herself on her uncanny reflexes as well as her peak physical condition. Even so, she had felt unbelievingly slow compared to the speed that the Commandos had displayed. Had Queren not intervened then Keith would have shot Vitter dead several times before he would have even hit the ground.

Keith struggled briefly against Thalia’s iron grasp, but quickly found that it was no use. He turned a furious glare back towards Queren who only looked back at him without making a move. The two of them stared at each other for several more seconds with something unsaid passing between them before Keith finally agreed to let go of his blaster.

Queren caught the weapon in mid air and then took a careful step backwards. The leader of the commando team then sighed and twisted his head back to look at Thalia: “You can let go of me now.”

Thalia hesitated a second longer before releasing her grasp. Keith rubbed his wrist as he walked out of the room. Sjet, who had somehow jumped behind a console, suddenly stood up and ran after him while motioning for Thalia to follow: “Let’s check the server room. There might be something in there that we can use to track Bagby.”

The Loyalist looked to Queren who nodded at her reassuringly. She stepped out of the room and a few running steps allowed her to catch up with Keith and Sjet: “I know this was hard, but it is the right thing to do.”

Keith did not look back at her as he spoke: “No, it’s not.”

-----

Vitter, his strength drained by an hour of interrogation at Bagby’s hands and by the loss of blood, cried his heart out helplessly. A pair of hands took him by the shoulders, helped him to his feet and guided him to a nearby chair. The cache owner looked at Queren gratefully: “Thank you.”

It took a few steadying breath for Vitter to regain his composure and he then wiped the tears from his eyes: “If you ever need anything then it’s yours, you have but to name it.”

Queren did not answer and merely started treating Vitter’s most serious wounds using Sjet’s medical kit. Vitter finally allowed himself to relax, letting his head sink back into his chair: “This all went to hell so fast.”

A pinch along Vitter’s right hand caused him to yelp and he looked back towards Queren even as the Commando used a second pair of handcuffs to secure his left hand to the chair: “What are you doing?”

Again, Queren did not answer and merely took a few steps back. He removed the top portion of his combat suit, exposing his well toned muscles as well as multiple scars. Vitter’s eyes widened in horror as Queren reached for the small case strapped to his hip and opened it, revealing a set of torture tools: “Please don’t do this! You can ask for anything!”

The Commando chose an electric scalpel, one which could burn a nerve cluster anywhere in a human body without the risk of an accidental death. Panic threatened to overwhelm Vitter as Queren leaned forward and whispered something in his uninjured ear. The words were spoken delicately, but their implications could not be more alarming.

“Give her back?” echoed Vitter in horror even as Queren stepped back. The cache owner struggled against his restraints uselessly even as the Commando positioned the electric scalpel along his leg: “But how could I possibly do that?”

Queren looked back at Vitter, his eyes reflecting the simple fact that there was nothing that the traitor could do to bring Dostya back.

-----

Sjet’s fingers danced along the console in the server room as he accessed one file after another. Even so, the shaken commando could not erase the past few minutes from his mind: “Vitter… man… who would have thought. He wasn’t even on Slate’s list!”

“Bagby must have suspected something,” said Keith while standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Thalia looked back at the commando warily, fearing that he would sprint away in order to kill the wounded Cybran. Keith met Thalia’s gaze as he spoke: “Armed with Slate’s data, he could probably tell lies from truth while interrogating him.”

The next few minutes were tense, but Keith remained calmly in place. Sjet finally slapped a hand against his console, startling the Loyalist pilot: “It’s clean. Whatever Vitter has about Bagby or the Seven Hand Node, it’s not here.”

Thalia looked to both Commandos, suddenly realizing that they might have lost their best chance to catch Bagby: “What else can we do?”

“We wait,” said Keith with a shrug. Thalia looked towards Keith in puzzlement and only then noticed the grim determination in his eyes. From his posture, it almost seemed as if he was trying to block the exit of the server room, but why would he do that unless…

A faint tortured scream suddenly echoed down the hall. Only then did Thalia realized that Queren had not prevented Keith from killing Vitter to save his life, but rather to have his way with him. The Loyalist tried to take a step forward, but Keith blocked her path: “I said we wait.”

Thalia turned a pleading glance towards Sjet who shook his head apologetically: “Vitter didn’t get a chance to recover from his first interrogation under Bagby. It shouldn’t last very long.”

More distant cries filled the corridor, grating against Thalia’s nerves and her very conscience. Interrogation was not something that was allowed within the Illuminate as it degraded the victim and the punisher alike. She knew that such methods had been used by Cybrans in the past and she held no doubts that the traitor deserved it by their standards. If she merely stood by, however, then it meant that she was condoning the horrible act. On the other hand, if she stopped it then she might very well destroy their only lead which might help save Bagby.

Thalia was still struggling with the moral dilemma when a louder shout suddenly filled the corridor. It was then silenced by the unmistakable sound of a blaster fire. Thalia stood frozen in place, her mind reeling from what had just happened.

Keith slowly turned around and waited until Queren finally appeared down the corridor. The silent commando nodded and Keith turned back towards Thalia: “Now we have our next lead.”

Chapter 6
Expendable

Yours was one of the first friendly faces that I saw after I was freed from the loyalty program. I remember how terrifying it all was; to suddenly have a will of my own and step into a strange new world. You told me that I was amongst friends and I have cherished those words since that day. Please do not allow my death to make you lose sight of your kind and gentle nature.

-----

In another sector of the galaxy…

Projections flashed in quick succession on Weisman’s screen as his forces closed in on the Cybran base. A dozen Percival led the charge, followed by a few mobile shield generators, a Fatboy and enough anti-air power to protect it all. Their target was the Cybran base located four kilometers away and hopefully this time, things would be different. The last thing that they needed right now was to let their enemy escape yet again.

An artillery shell suddenly landed next to the Fatboy, barely damaging its shield and sending dirt flying in all direction. Weisman wondered, and not for the first time, if their opponent had something up his sleeve or if he was simply an amateur. Cybran artillery was notoriously inaccurate, designed mostly to keep swarms of weaker units at bay. Using it against anything that was tier three or higher was a waste of mass. Then again, the Seven Hand Node pilot had managed to survive three attacks so far.

Weisman kept a hand over the button that would select his spy planes and opened a channel to Carmack: “On my mark…”

Although Weisman’s forces were impressive, they were hardly unstoppable by themselves. Hopefully the Cybran pilot would perceive things the same way and stand his ground. Weisman waited until the Fatboy was within firing range before taking control of his spy planes: “Now!”

The spy planes flew from the rear of Weisman’s line and towards the Fatboy, but veered away at the last possible moment. Meanwhile, two Atlantis experimental aircraft carriers under Carmack’s control surfaced from the bottom of a river on the other side of the base. Dozens of Broadsword gunships followed by air superiority fighters took off in an instant and stormed the rear of the enemy fortress. Their combined forces crushed through the Cybran’s defenses, destroying shields, turrets and power generators in an instant.

Weisman counted until ten before sending his spy planes forward again. Some were shot down by the leftover anti-air defenses and Weisman’s eyes darted around frantically as he tried to find the only target that truly mattered. Unfortunately for them, the enemy ACU was nowhere to be found and the UEF pilot barely refrained from cursing: “No contact!”

“Damn it!” shouted Carmack while kicking the side of his cockpit: “They are toying with us! They’re just putting up bases and then leaving them deserted for us to destroy. How the hell do they get the resources to pull it off?”

“They must have more than two pilots,” reasoned Weisman while sending his leftover spy planes flying in every direction. The UEF pilot made a raw estimate before nodding: “I’d say perhaps three or four of varying experience levels. Some are sent to build backup bases while others wage the war against us while keeping their ACUs at a safe distance. Each time that they lose, they pull out of operational range and force us to follow.”

“So the bloody cowards will always be once step ahead of us,” concluded Carmack with a snort. Weisman was about to agree, but then his eyes drifted to a storm cloud in the distance. He zoomed in on it and frowned: “That’s not a lightning storm.”

As if on queue, a familiar face appeared on their screen: “This is Knight Tamias reporting; we have just launched an attack against a Seven Hand Node outpost to the north. We briefly spotted a Cybran ACU, but it is gone now. I am uploading our latest intelligence.”

Weisman zoomed out his tactical screen and his eyes widened when he noticed the size of the Loyalist force. Three pilots had cut off the Cybrans to the north, using a few Czar experimental weapons to form a blockade. Air superiority fighters and spy planes were moving between them all, ensuring that no cloaked ACU could slip through the gaps. Weisman also spotted Restorers, the Loyalists’ new gunship.

Instead of linking up with Weisman the moment that they had gated on planet, Tamias had ordered her fellow pilots to assemble an army in secret to trap their enemies. By doing so, she had lulled the Cybrans into a false sense of security which might very well give them the chance to catch them by surprise. She had grown much in the past few months. Weisman opened a channel and smiled: “I’m glad to have you here. Let’s box them in and end this.”

-----

On a distant world, far away from any battle, Hex-Five’s ACU stood confidently in the middle of its base, surrounded by the smuggler’s most trusted lieutenants and all the latest equipment that Cybran technology had to offer. The leader of the Seven Hand Node opened a channel to Teco, his highest ranking pilot: “What’s the situation?”

“The Alliance has launched multiple raids against our forces with far more pilots than anticipated,” said Teco grimly. Dark spots underlined the pilot’s eyes, a testament to his Denazol addiction. The side effects from the pain killers were minimal… aside from the fact the withdrawal symptoms were said to be harsh enough to kill a man without medical assistance. Of course, the Seven Hand Node was one of the rare nodes capable of providing the rare drug in these hard times.

One of Teco’s eyes twitched involuntarily as he added: “Decoy operations have been launched to lure them away from our secret cache sites. We should be capable of holding them off until our goods are relocated.”

“Good,” said Hex-Five while leaning back into his seat contentedly. So far, everything was going according to plan. A red light suddenly flashed on Teco’s screen and the Cybran frowned: “The Azure Veil has just been attacked.”

The news startled Hex-Five who then leaned forward in his seat: “By how many units and who was the leak?”

“Unknown,” said Teco while shaking his head. The Cybran pilot frowned as he browsed through some data on his terminal: “But we just received information from one of our spies that there is an arrest warrant for Chrome, Cache Eighty-Two’s medical officer. Did Vitter betray us?”

“Not voluntarily,” said Hex-Five while rubbing his chin. Vitter was one of the rare people outside of the Seven Hand Node who had been given one of QAI’s ‘reformatted companions’. The consequences of being caught with one of those would probably be extraordinary: “We never got involved with Chrome and Vitter was our only contact in Cache Eighty-Two. It’s a shame, it cost us a lot of resource to keep Vitter’s record clean. In retrospect, maybe we overdid it.”

Teco’s gaze darkened, his bloodshot eyes appearing even more menacing because of the drugs that he used: “I was not aware that we told Vitter of the Azure Veil.”

“We didn’t,” said Hex-Five with a shrug, not the least bit intimidated: “But Vitter was a clever man. It looks like he got some dirt on us just in case that we tried to use his ‘wife’ as leverage. I hate it when independent agents try to play it smart.”

“What should we do about the Azure Veil?” asked Teco impatiently. Both pilots knew that a large number of their ‘exotic pets’ were stored there. Moral would definitely drop if their pilots suddenly lost their playthings: “Evacuate as much as you can before abandoning it. We might need a distraction to buy some time…”

If the Alliance realized the importance of the Azure Veil, they might very well ignore the decoy operations that were underway. Teco was apparently following the same line of thought and nodded: “Decoy Commanders have reported that a few of our newest recruits are having difficulties obeying orders. They don’t want to fight against the Alliance. We could fix both problems in a single move.”

Hex-Five nodded immediately, not the least bit upset by the sacrifice: “Do so and find out who is leading the attack on the Azure Veil. Every slight must eventually be repaid.”

-----

“One just gated out!” shouted Carmack angrily. The Cybran base self destructed a moment later, destroying over a hundred units in the process. Weisman paused over his console for a second, puzzled as to why the enemy ACU had not transferred his units before escaping through his quantum gate. The situation for the two remaining Seven Hand Node pilots was dire, but if they had their own gates then they still had a shot at escaping.

There was no more time for hesitation, however, and Weisman opened a channel to all Alliance pilots: “We need to charge, now! We can’t let the rest get away!”

Hundreds of UEF and Loyalist units converged on the two remaining bases. Bright explosions soon lit the sky with pulse lasers and plasma bolts adding their own array of colors. Gone was the usual finesse that Weisman employed, replaced instead by brute force brought on through sheer numbers. The UEF pilot feared that the Seven Hand Node had somehow acquired a new devastating weapon, but every second that passed only confirmed a single thing: their defensive line was quickly crumbling.

Tamias appeared on his screen then, her concern written on her face: “Major Weisman, something is wrong.”

“They are losing,” said Carmack before Weisman could say anything. The other UEF pilot nodded vigorously even as he sent his Broadsword gunships into action: “I’d say that something is finally going right.”

A red dot suddenly appeared on all of their screens when a spy plane flew over one of the Cybran bases. Carmack smiled in glee and redirected all of his units towards it: “Target in sight!”

The gunships flew in with their heavy plasma cannons firing. The Cybran ACU tried to slip back under an energy shield, but even that barrier quickly fell, leaving it defenseless. The constant weapon fire ate away at its hull until the ACU went critical.

Weisman looked away from the explosion and towards the remaining base. Victory was theirs, but why had it suddenly become so easy? Why hadn’t the Seven Hand Node pilots synchronized their escape so that they could all survive? Weisman was still pondering this when Carmack brought his attention back to the battlefield by forwarding a set of coordinates: “You have got to be kidding me.”

A push of a button allowed Weisman to zoom in on the area and his eyes widened when he saw walls appear just outside the Cybran base. No engineer was nearby which meant that there was a cloaked ACU standing at that exact spot without any units to defend it. Carmack shook his head and waved his hand dismissively: “Just put him out of his misery.”

“All pilots hold,” said Weisman while switching to his overhead tactical view and zooming out. Sure enough, the Seven Hand Node pilot was trying to spell out something using wall segments: “His transmitter is shot.”

Weisman could see the protest beginning to form on Carmack’s face, but he ignored it while sending a single gunship forward. He stopped the Broadsword in the general area where the walls were appearing and activated its speakers: “Self destruct your base and exit your cockpit, now! This is your only warning.”

A Cybran ACU suddenly appeared right under the UEF gunship, but made no move to attack. It stood there for a few seconds before ejecting all of its upgrades, including its cloaking device. The rest of the Cybran base soon exploded, leaving the Alliance army with nothing left to fight. Weisman opened a channel even as the Cybran ACU’s cockpit opened: “HQ, we just captured a Seven Hand Node pilot.”

“Roger that, Major,” said Slate, his unblinking eyes darting left and right. The Chimera analyst listened to someone else and then nodded back to Weisman: “We are forwarding you the coordinates of Cache Eighty-Two. Transport the prisoner there. A team of commandos will be waiting to take him off your hands.”

-----

Dylan raised both arms into the air as the capsule’s door opened. He found three Commandos waiting for him with two of them aiming their blasters straight for his head. The Cybran pilot gulped despite himself and took a look around even as Keith made his way towards him.

A UEF and Loyalist ACU were waiting nearby, their weapons systems trained on him. Although a single shot from their main cannons would probably kill Dylan and all three Commandos, the Seven Hand Node pilot also knew that ACUs could use their construction lasers to strike with pinpoint accuracy. A push a button from either pilot could take out Dylan’s head before he had the time to blink.

Dylan’s gaze was drawn back to Keith as the Commando stepped up and cuffed his hands behind his back: “Make one false move… please.”

The tone of the Commando’s voice made his intentions clear. Keith would have his way with Dylan until he was certain that he had told him everything that he knew. Even then, something in the back of Dylan’s head warned him that an ‘accident’ might befall him even if he did tell them the truth.

“No wait,” said Dylan as Keith started dragging him forward. The pilot’s eyes darted around frantically for a way out and settled on a group of Cybrans who were just now exiting the building. Dylan did not recognize the two who were wounded, but he did recognize the one accompanying them: “Ell!”

Keith suddenly turned around and punched Dylan in the stomach. The Seven Hand Node pilot sank to his knees, but still found the necessary breath to utter a plea: “Please… tell them that I had nothing to do with this.”

Ell looked to Dylan and frowned. She had been dispatched here to treat Moto and Opal, make an inventory of the cache’s medical supplies and take them back with her. From what she could tell, the ACU pilot and his student had been oblivious to Vitter’s dealings with the Seven Hand Node. It was probably the reason why Bagby had spared them in the first place. Dylan, however, had joined the Seven Hand Node willingly: “I wish I could, Dylan, but you chose your side.”

“They just left me and Limnor to die because we wouldn’t follow orders!” screamed Dylan even as Keith grabbed him by the hair and started dragging him away: “The Seven Hand Node had our transmission consoles booby trapped and they disabled our quantum gates so we would be stuck back there! You have to believe me!”

Ell watched Keith drag Dylan away and hesitated. The ACU pilot was young, barely nineteen years old, and she had known him when he had been just a kid. She had been the one to clear him for ACU training and he had been grateful to her ever since. She had not, however, approved of his choice to join Hex-Five and his crew. The part of Ell that hoped to see Dostya avenged wanted to let the Commandos extract the information out of him. The memory of the child who had thanked her time and again for helping him, however, would not allow her to do so: “Wait…”

Keith stopped, his gaze narrowing as he looked back to the Chief Medical officer. Ell ignored the glare and looked up at the UEF ACU which towered over them: “Major Weisman, can you confirm?”

“I can’t know for certain,” said Weisman through the ACU’s speakers. The UEF pilot hesitated a second before adding: “But it is possible. Something had to have gone wrong for their escape plan to be this messed up.”

Ell nodded to herself and made her way to Dylan. She knelt down in front of him, her eyes uncompromising as she laid two fingers against his carotid: “If you lie to me even once then Keith will make you wish you didn’t. Do I make myself clear?”

The Seven Hand Node pilot nodded immediately, understanding that this was his only chance. Ell studied the young man intently, making sure that she was aware of all of his vital signs before asking her first question: “What was your mission?”

“We were on a decoy operation,” said Dylan without a hint of hesitation: “Our objective was to buy enough time for the Seven Hand Node to collect the proof that it needed to prove its innocence. That’s what we were told, anyway.”

“And you believed them?” asked Keith with a snarl. Dylan winced as the Commando tightened the grip on his hair, but still answered: “I served under them for the past eight months and had my fair share of unjustified crap thrown my way simply because of it. Besides, it’s not like I had a lot of options.”

“Which other missions were decoys?” asked Ell in an even toned voice. Dylan thought about it for a second before answering: “I was not briefed on the other missions, but I did notice that that a lot of the other new pilots were dispatched to sectors surrounding Minerva. They are probably the decoys.”

Keith jerked Dylan’s head up so he could look into his eyes as he asked his own question: “What are you trying to protect?”

“Supply bunkers,” said Dylan, earning himself a brief reprieve: “The Seven Hand Node has a lot of those, probably more than was officially told to the Alliance. The more valuable, rare or illegal the commodity, the tighter the security is, even from us. It would take a while to relocate those”

Ell motioned for Keith to stop jerking Dylan backward before speaking: “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” said the Seven Hand Node pilot. Ell’s eyes darkened as she tilted her head to the side: “I’m not going to ask again.”

“I don’t know all right?” protested Dylan loudly, his eyes darting between Ell and Keith: “Only accomplished members know of the coordinates. I was only aware of them because I was taken to the one called the Azure Veil.”

Ell raised an eyebrow and motioned for Dylan to continue. The Seven Hand Node pilot’s voice rose in desperation as he spoke: “We were blindfolded during the trip so I don’t know where it is exactly. It was a volcanic world which smelled of sulfur. I barely managed to catch a glimpse of the night sky by accident and I saw two moons: a yellow and a red one. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Both Ell and Keith looked at each other before the Commando nodded: “Same place as Vitter…”

There were only so many planets with those combinations of moons and it corresponded to the information that they had extracted from Vitter. Bagby was most likely there and Thalia had already left in search of him. Hopefully she would catch him before it was too late. In the meantime, Keith doubted that he could extract any more from Dylan. It was not that he trusted him, but rather that he believed that Hex-Five had indeed kept the most important facts away from his underlings. Keith let go of the shaken pilot’s head while snorting in disgust: “Fine, that’s enough.”

“No it’s not,” said Ell, drawing a surprised look from the Commando. The Chief Medical officer grabbed a hold of Dylan’s chin and forced him to look at her: “Why did they leave you behind, Dylan? I’m not letting you off the hook without a good reason.”

“I wouldn’t take a taste,” said Dylan pitifully as he tried to look away. Ell dug her nails into his face as a warning and he looked back at her: “I just wanted a few extra perks. Pilots put their lives on the line every day, so why not get some decent food and drinks as compensation? A month ago, they told me I was almost ready to become a full fledge member and that I should get initiated. That’s when they brought me to the Azure Veil.”

Dylan’s eyes grew unfocused as he recalled the recent events: “A big party, that’s what I thought it was supposed to be; drinks, women, the works. There was plenty of that and I could take my pick of any combination. I thought that I was happy, but when I brought her into my room and looked into her eyes…”

The pilot’s gaze refocused on Ell and then darted around with uncertainty: “She spoke all the right words, but her eyes were empty. This wasn’t jus some new drug; there was nothing left. It’s almost like she was dead inside.”

A moment passed and Dylan took a deep breath before speaking again: “I couldn’t do it, not like that. It felt worse than looking at someone who’s under a Loyalty program.”

“No one looked at me the same way afterwards,” whimpered Dylan while looking away: “No more approving nods or cheers. I was still part of the Seven Hand Node, but they didn’t trust me anymore.”

“I’m no saint,” added Dylan as he looked back to Ell: “But I’m not something like that. I’m not!”

Ell studied the prisoner for a moment longer before finally letting go of him. This was not the monster that had killed Dostya; this was just the kid who had made one mistake too many. As much as she wanted to take her revenge on him, she found that she couldn’t and she looked back towards Keith: “Get him back home... alive.”

Keith nodded and looked at the two ACUs above him: “Major Weisman, Knight Tamias, this information supports our latest lead. Thalia had already gone in search of the Azure Veil before you arrived. Once we leave this place, I suggest that you go after her.”

-----

“Bagby!” Shouted Thalia on all frequencies as her transport flew through the night’s skies. She landed on a hill overlooking a large valley with the rest of her army fast on her heels. She had found the Azure Veil or rather what was left of it.

Plumes of smoke darkened the sky, a grim reminder of the carnage that had taken place on the ground. The wreckage of many units lay all across the Valley, but Thalia could have sworn that she saw movement down there. She sent her spy planes forward and they immediately detected the units that were moving below: Loyalists, mobile flak artilleries and even a Monkeylord. More importantly, however, none of those units fired at Thalia’s spy planes.

A surge of hope coursed through Thalia as she grew convinced that this was Bagby’s army. Her eyes darted around the battlefield frantically as she tried to catch a glimpse of an ACU: “Please talk to me. Say something!”

There was no response and the Loyalist pilot’s heart sank. Bagby was leading his own personal vendetta and while he would apparently not attack Thalia, he would not allow her to stop him either. Anguish tore at the Loyalist’s heart as she realized how powerless she was to stop him: “This is not what Dostya would have wanted… please come home with me.”

A signal suddenly appeared on Thalia’s screen and her eyes shone with renewed hope when it was confirmed to be an ACU. She altered the course of her spy planes, eager take a look at Bagby. Her heart sank when the spy planes flew above the ACU.

Bagby had not disengaged his cloaking device to allow her to find him; he had simply ejected it to lower his energy profile in order to use a quantum gate. He was only seconds away from stepping into the energy field and Thalia reached towards her screen, powerless to stop him: “Please don’t go!”

The cries went unheeded as the ACU disappeared. The remaining Cybran units stood in place for a few seconds longer before self destructing, leaving the rest of the battlefield dismally silent. A silent tear slid along Thalia’s cheek as a single word escaped her: “Bagby…”

Chapter 7
Applying Pressure

When I first saw you on a video feed, I thought that your over eagerness would get you killed. The fact that you got knocked out in a single punch in your first brawl did nothing to help either. However, you did not die as I originally thought you would, but instead grew into a successful pilot who could keep an open mind and work well alongside others. Those are the qualities that I have relied upon time and again.

I know that your world spun out of control with the fall of the Jade Node. You discovered like I did that to mend the pain, one must reach out to others. If you should see anyone who is saddened by my passing then I want you to remind them of that. I’m relying on you yet again, my friend.

Sayonara

-----

“Report,” said Hex-Five while crossing his arms. Visle, the Commander in charge of the Azure Veil, flinched involuntarily. That in itself was hardly surprising considering the circumstances.

Almost every veteran pilot in the Seven Hand Node had some vice or another that Hex-Five could exploit to ensure their loyalty or to punish them when they were unsuccessful. Some wanted women, others drugs and a few required more exotic, if not downright twisted, sources of pleasure. Visle’s needs were basic and relatively easy to provide; he craved power. He was not the most accomplished of pilots, but his loyalty was assured as long as he could bully those under him. Hex-Five would of course only enable him if it achieved the results that he wanted.

Visle steeled himself and took a calming breath before speaking: “Eighty percent of the Azure Veil’s goods were safely extracted and our pilots are ferrying them away as we speak. We have suffered no casualties.”

The loss of a few exotic pets was annoying, but hardly a cause for that much tension. Years of experience in dealing with half-truths and hidden agendas warned Hex-Five that something was amiss and he leaned ever so slightly towards his screen: “And how many enemy pilots were there?”

“We can’t be sure,” responded Visle far too quickly. Even though it was technically a correct answer, especially when facing other Cybrans with similar stealth technology, Hex-Five knew that he had placed his finger on the problem and his tone grew sharper as he asked the question again: “How many pilots?”

Teco, who had been busy studying the replay, suddenly looked up from his console on Hex-Five’s left screen and answered the question for Visle: “One…”

The answer startled Hex-Five who looked at his most experienced pilot in disbelief. There had been four pilots including Visle who had been guarding the Azure Veil. The leader of the Seven Hand Node could imagine that maybe one would have been busy sleeping or indulging himself, but at least three of them should have been on watch at all times. How could a single enemy pilot attack the Azure Veil and cause damage before the goods were safely evacuated?

For a moment, Hex-Five wanted to question Teco’s reasoning, but the other pilot’s dark gaze reminded him of whom he was dealing with. Teco had been busy reviewing the replay and had most likely based his assumption upon the number of units that had attacked. Unlike Hex-Five, Teco had years of fighting experience under his belt, both before and after the end of the Infinite War.

Besides, Visle’s stunned face betrayed the fact that Teco had been right: “Our primary objective was to safeguard the goods and not to fight back.”

The feeble response infuriated Hex-Five, but Teco forwarded a file to both pilots before he could say anything: “I think you need to see this. The transmission was intercepted by one of our leftover arrays.”

The face of a young Loyalist pilot appeared on the screen, a tear sliding down her cheek: “Bagby…”

The short transmission ended there and Hex-Five nearly choked on his own saliva. His gaze turned back to Visle, his voice rising in contempt as he spoke: “You were forced to flee because of a single SCU pilot? What kind of incompetent idiot are you?”

“It’s not unexpected,” cut in Teco before Visle could say anything to defend himself. The experienced pilot crossed his arms while tilting his head up: “Bagby has seen more active duty than any three of our pilots combined. You can’t survive that long without some measure of skill.”

From the way that he spoke, Hex-Five could tell that Teco was not including himself in his generalization. Even so, the declaration did little to soothe his temper: “He is merely an SCU pilot.”

“Whose adopted daughter you killed,” shot back Teco without a hint of hesitation. Hex-Five resented the other pilot for the verbal attack, but he knew that such an attitude had been earned. There were times to exert influence and then there were others when you had to let the experienced players do their part. Teco considered the situation for a few seconds longer before nodding: “I think we can safely assume that Bagby will not let go of the chase until he finally catches you. His presence might also explain why so many Alliance pilots are involved.”

Hex-Five cringed, but nodded his accord: “What are the odds of them finding any more caches under these circumstances?”

“High,” said Teco with a shrug: “Judging by this transmission, it appears as though Bagby is spearheading his own vendetta. If I had to take a guess, I would say that the Alliance is trying to stop him before he gets himself killed. Ironically, they have higher odds of finding him by tracking us down instead.”

The simple deduction caused Hex-Five’s stomach to twist in a knot. Had Bagby planned all of this? Every minute that the Alliance spent tracking the Seven Hand Node was one less that they could use to fight off the Seraphim. It was simply not in the Alliance’s best interest to do so and Hex-Five had based all of his defensive plans on that assumption!

Teco studied Hex-Five carefully, his lip twitching involuntarily as he spoke: “Bagby might be insane, but he’s not stupid.”

Things were not progressing along Hex-Five’s plans and the smuggler hated whenever that happened. He turned to Teco and raised an eyebrow: “Is our recall outpost active?”

“It is,” confirmed the pilot with a shrug. Hex-Five nodded and then spoke to both pilots: “Then send some of our scouts to track Bagby down. Find and eliminate him before he finds us.”

-----

Back in the Alliance’s base of operation, the cockpit of the captured Seven Hand Node ACU opened, revealing a man in a full hazmat suit within. The UEF forensic specialist stepped out with a box filled with samples in one hand and a biological reader in the other. Brian watched him patiently and waited for him to remove his helmet before daring to ask a question: “Anything?”

“Not much,” said the forensic specialist while shaking his head. He handed his sample box to his assistant before turning back to Brian: “We’ll keep you apprised of the results as soon as we can.”

Brian nodded gratefully and stepped into the cockpit with a Cybran data relay in one hand. He activated his transmitter and opened a channel to the command center even as he worked to open the main console: “I’m hooking up the relay now. I’ll be done in a minute”

“Finally,” said Slate, obviously exasperated. Brian could practically hear the Cybran’s fingers wriggling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation as he mentally prepared himself to hack the ACU’s main database: “I thought he’d never leave.”

Many had been offended by Slate condescending attitude in the past, but Brian shrugged it off. He knew that most of what the Chimera said was unfiltered, almost as if he resented making the effort to appear normal. The Chief engineer pried loose one of the console’s entry ports and prepared to hook in the data relay: “Maybe the forensic team will get lucky and a Seven Hand Node engineer left a clear thumb print for us to find.”

Slate snorted derisively, much as Brian had expected. What he had no foreseen, however, was that from the sound of things, Slate was no longer wriggling his fingers. Brian was about to ask if something was wrong, but Slate spoke first: “I’m sorry for being a jerk back in the Command Center.”

The apology caught Brian unprepared. He had already forgotten about the incident, thinking that he had just caught Slate at a really bad time. Brian smiled slightly even as he connected the data relay to the ACU’s console: “Don’t worry about it. Want to play poker with the guys Tuesday night?”

“I’ll be busy supporting the guys who are supposed to save the galaxy,” said the Cybran Analyst somberly. Brian could tell from the emotionless tone of Slate’s voice that the Cybran was back to his old self and he smiled as he activated the data relay: “Yeah, me too. I’m done.”

The data relay flashed in quick succession and Brian could hear the sound of Slate’s fingers wriggling in the air once more. The Chief Engineer was about to secure the data relay to the side when he heard something that sounded like a highly focused laser. He stepped out of the ACU in a hurry and looked down at the two Loyalists technicians who were busy drilling a hole in the ACU’s foot several levels down: “What are you doing?”

The laser drill was making too much noise for the Loyalists to hear Brian and the Chief Engineer walked towards the stair. His transmitter was still active and Slate spoke: “What’s going on?”

“Loyalists are cutting off a piece of the armor,” said Brian dismissively. If they were hoping to find traces of new technology then they would be disappointed. Brian had already scanned the ACU from top to bottom while the forensic specialist had been busy and had found nothing out of the ordinary: “Think you’ll find anything new in the ACU’s database?”

“I doubt it,” said Slate after a moment of hesitation: “The Seven Hand Node is pretty thorough when it comes to covering its tracks. If we find something that was not in Dylan’s wrist computer then it will be a miracle.”

Brian cursed under his breath despite himself. If they could not come up with some new piece of information then looking for Bagby or the Seven Hand Node would be like finding a needle in a galaxy sized haystack.

The sound of drilling stopped just as Brian reached the bottom level and he found the two Loyalists waiting in front of a console. A piece of the ACU’s armor hovered in an energy field and one of the Loyalist analysts turned around when he heard Brian step closer. He bowed his head respectfully before handing a data pad to him: “Chief Leger, we hope that you will find this useful.”

“What is it?” asked Brian while taking the data pad. A small list of worlds was displayed on it and the Loyalist gestured towards it as he spoke: “We have just finished analyzing the impurities trapped within the ACU’s armor. There were a total of fourteen different types of uncommon bacteria which can be traced to twenty-six worlds. Of those worlds, only sixteen are within reasonable proximity to Alliance space.”

Germs? Brian shook his head as he tried to guess how that could possibly prove pertinent: “Why should that matter?”

The analyst’s voice was both soft and patient as he explained: “Impurities can only be trapped within the layers of a Cybran ACU’s armor after it is forced to regenerate. If you take that list and remove the worlds that are part of the prisoner’s recent missions then those that are left can potentially be the ones where the ACU was manufactured or maintained.”

Brian looked at the analyst in surprise, having never even thought of such a method before. If they found the spot where the ACU had been maintained then they could therefore know where the booby trap had been installed. The Loyalist bowed his head again: “Analyzing the remains of destroyed Cybran ACUs was one of the Illuminate’s ways of tracking their world of origin.”

The UEF Chief Engineer hesitated a few seconds longer before bowing his head in return: “Thanks.”

“Score one for the Loyalists,” commented Slate over Brian’s transmitter. The Chief transmitted the list back to the command center and twiddled his thumbs eagerly: “Think we just got a lead?”

The only answer that Brian got was when Slate opened another channel: “HQ to Kazuo, we have a new list of sites for you to scout.”

-----

The ground shook with the Cybran ACU’s every step, sending small critters scurrying in all directions. Cobal, one of the Seven Hand Node pilot assigned to protect the Azure Veil, watched them flee with amusement. The primitive creatures were weak; little more than fist sized rodents for the most part.

Cobal knew that their presence served some kind of purpose on this world. They had probably been introduced in through the terraforming process centuries ago. Still, he could not care less about them since his presence here was temporary. His mission was simple: he was to ferry his share of the goods through a half dozen worlds to cover his tracks before linking with the others at a more secured site.

Thinking of the goods caused the Seven Hand Node pilot’s eyes to drift to the east where three automated ground transports waited. One held exotic food of every kind. Not Cybran recycled proteins, but rather UEF and Illuminate supplies. The former had been traded through Hex-Five’s mysterious connections while the latter had been gathered through raids in Illuminate territory. How Hex-Five had always managed to find nearly defenseless targets, no one really knew.

The second transport held drugs, alcohol and other mind bending products that were not that hard to come by, but time consuming to produce. Like it or not, the Seraphim kept everyone on the run and facilities rarely had the time to go through all the stages necessary to make the narcotics. Well, almost everyone. For some reason, a few Seven Hand Node manufacturing plants were never disturbed; almost as if a deal had been struck to keep it that way.

Although the content of the first two transports could be considered suspect, they were nothing compared to the last one. It held over one forty ‘reformatted companions’… which was a fancy way of saying that they had been upgraded with QAI’s implants. Had Hex-Five somehow stolen the technology and applied it to captured prisoners or was the dreaded artificial intelligence involved? The truth to the matter was that it did not matter. If the rest of the Cybran Nation learned of them then the Seven Hand Node would lose all of its remaining allies.

Maybe this was part of Hex-Five’s plan as well. Right now, he was the only one implicated in Dostya’s death and it was awfully tempting to simply dispose of him and pretend that he had acted on his own. However, the leader of the smuggling node had most likely anticipated the possibility and arranged for incriminating information to leak to the rest of the Cybran Nation should he suddenly meet an untimely demise. Cobal himself had partaken in all forbidden commodities at one time or another, including the reformatted companions.

It suddenly occurred to Cobal that the three transports held everything that he ever wanted in large enough quantities to sustain him for at least another fifty years. The possibility of simply running away with all of it was tempting, but the thought fled from his mind as a warning cursor blinked on his screen. It was an automated message warning him that over ten of his mechanical engineers were standing idly by.

Cobal snorted in self derision, thinking that it had been foolish to let his mind wander for so long. That point was driven home when two volleys of tactical missiles suddenly came in from the north, the first collapsing his shields and the second destroying two of his power generators.

The Seven Hand Node pilot cursed loudly and scrambled his army while setting his ACU on a course towards the sea shore on his west. His base’s shields were fluctuating wildly because of the power loss, leaving his ACU exposed to a quick assassination attempt. If he could just make it to the sea, however, then he could hide long enough to rebuild the destroyed structure and track down his opponent. Cobal knew that transporting the goods through multiple worlds had slowed him down, but his opponent must have also been struggling to keep up with him. The enemy armor could therefore not be that extensive.

“Where are you?” muttered Cobal while sending scout planes in every direction. The Seven Hand Node pilot smiled viciously when his scouts revealed the stealth firebase to the north. Three tactical missile launchers were there, their signatures hidden by a stealth generator. An interesting gambit, but a useless one now that he had discovered them.

Cobal prepared to send a wave of bombers to the north just as his ACU took its first steps in the sea: “You’ll have to do a lot better than that!”

No sooner had Cobal spoken the words that an underwater signature appeared on his radar. The Cybran snorted, thinking that it was just a submarine that had been sent in as a scout or to prevent him from building a naval facility. He prepared his construction laser with the intent to disassemble it before it could do any damage. Cobal’s surprise was complete when another Cybran ACU suddenly surged out of the water in front of him: “What the…”

The rest of the sentence was blotted out as the opposing Cybran struck Cobal straight in the cockpit. The blow resounded loudly, causing Cobal to cry out in pain. His opponent used the opportunity to hook one of its shoulder spikes right under the arm of Cobal’s ACU and used it to carry him into the sea. By the time that Cobal recovered, the two of them were already underwater and heading further from the shore: “Let go of me!”

Cobal tried to shake himself free, but his opponent had positioned his limbs so that he could not strike back using the arms of his ACU. His kicks were also ineffective, striking his enemy’s back, but doing no real damage. Warning lights suddenly flared on Cobal’s screen, signaling that an underwater cliff side was just ahead. The smuggler’s eyes widened in disbelief even as they reached the edge: “You wouldn’t.”

Cobal did not have time to protest any further as the two of them went tumbling over. Although the water slowed the fall, ACUs were still made from very dense alloys and both sank like rocks. Cobal’s heart raced as the depth meter on his screen kept changing numbers: one hundred meters… one fifty… two hundred…

The two ACUs suddenly slammed into the cliff side and the shock sent them tumbling in different directions. Cobal screamed in panic even as his ACU twirled out of control. The drop ended with an ear shattering boom that made him bite his tongue. The smuggler spat blood to the side and looked around in panic even as the hull of his ACU groaned in protest. He then turned to his screen and looked at the depth indicator: three hundred and twenty meters.

ACUs could operate effectively at maximum depth of six hundred meters and the new model based on Seraphim technology was rumored to be able to go even deeper. Still, it was not a limit that Cobal was eager to test and he looked around for the enemy. He found the other ACU waiting for him, its frame partially obscured by the falling sediments that their fall had caused: “What were you hoping to accomplish, huh?”

The smuggler was still trying to figure out what kind of pilot could be insane enough to go toe to toe with the enemy as an opening move, but he got his answer when his opponent’s chest plate slid open. Cobal’s mouth opened in disbelief even as a single word escaped him: “No…”

The enemy fired a series of four torpedoes that slammed straight into Cobal’s ACU. The explosions propelled him backward, but he still had the presence of mind to set a course back to the shore. His ACU started moving immediately afterwards, but Cobal knew that he was in trouble when the plotted course appeared on the screen. It would take him nearly three minutes to go around the underwater cliff side and reach the shore. It would take his opponent less than forty seconds to finish him off. Without a torpedo upgrade of his own and no submarines in the area, Cobal was defenseless!

The smuggler cursed viciously even as another series of torpedoes slammed him in the back. He was quickly running out of time and there were few options at his disposal. He had an entire army waiting for him on the surface, but what good could it do him if he was stuck down here? He needed to buy time and fast!

Cobal opened a channel on all frequencies and adopted the most pleading look that he could muster: “I give up!”

His answer came in the form of another barrage of torpedoes, causing him to curse loudly. Words weren’t going to cut it and he stopped his ACU while raising both hands into the air: “I said that I surrender already!”

Another set of torpedoes sent Cobal’s ACU crashing face first into the ground and one of his screens started flickering. Warnings lights flashed through the cockpit as his ACU’s integrity field buckled: “You can take the goods and I can even tell you where to get more!”

Cobal could have sworn that the next incoming torpedo barrage was even more brutal than the last one. He looked away as one of his screens exploded and he cried out in pain as a piece of shrapnel tore a gash on his right cheek. The rear armor of his ACU was compromised and he was in the red. At this rate, he would not survive much longer.

“Hex-Five!” cried Cobal, desperate to find something that his enemy would accept in exchange for his life. Maybe if victory or even valuable goods was not enough then vengeance might be: “I can tell you where to find Hex-Five!”

Cobal cringed, his heart beating frantically as he braced himself for the next attack. A few seconds passed without any further explosions and he sighed in relief: “Thank you. You won’t regret it, I swear! I have all the coordinates in my computer.”

The smuggler could hear a faint thud, almost as if the enemy ACU was coming closer. He smiled reassuringly and adopted the most sincere look that he could muster: “I’ll give you half the data now and the other when I reach the surface. You have my word. If you’ll just…”

The sentence was interrupted as something came crashing into the back of Cobal’s ACU. The smuggler yelped in surprise and accessed his sensors to get a better idea of what was going on. His opponent was standing right on top of him and repeatedly jamming its arm into the back of Cobal’s ACU: “What the hell are you doing?”

The enemy ACU struck again and this time, its arm pierced the last armor layer and reached the servo motors. Panic nearly overwhelmed Cobal as alarms blared from every direction: “Wait, no, stop!”

A second screen immediately blew up and Cobal cried out as water started leaking into his cockpit. The smuggler reached for the helmet that was strapped behind him, but a violent twist from his opponent knocked out his breath. Meanwhile, the leak in the cockpit widened and more water started pouring in. The smuggler struggled against the restraints that held his helmet in place, his eyes wide in terror: “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

He finally got the helmet free just as his opponent lifted him off the ground, Cobal’s ACU practically impaled on its arm. The move sent water and debris flying in all directions, momentarily blinding Cobal. The smuggler could feel the icy cold water rise up to his knees and started putting on his helmet as quickly as he could. Blood mixed with sea water found its way into his right eye, half blinding him even as he struggled with the latches.

The water quickly reached Cobal’s upper chest, but his shaking fingers somehow managed to close the seal. Fresh, warm air filled the helmet even as the smuggler tried to take a steadying breath. Why was his opponent doing this? Was he trying to intimidate him? If so, he had to admit that it was working.

The water filled the rest of the cockpit a few seconds later as Cobal took a steadying breath. He took a second one, but found the pressure on his chest increasing. By the time that he tried to take a third, his lungs would no longer expand. It was only then that he understood what was going on. His cockpit was breached and the water pressure was equalizing with the outside pressure. By jamming an arm into the back of Cobal’s ACU and constantly shaking it, his opponent was ensuring that the automated regeneration systems could not seal the breach.

Now, even though Cobal had a helmet filled with air, the pressure was simply not enough to allow him to breathe. The helmets had never been meant to operate so deep under water. He could taste the oxygen on his very tongue and yet he was suffocating!

The smuggler’s vision started to blur and he finally understood his mistake. His enemy did not need him. Cobal was a high ranking member and as such, the coordinates of all the waypoints were stored in his ACU’s computer. All that his opponent needed to do was to extract them once he was dead. Cobal’s vision finally darkened as the pressure crushed the remaining oxygen out of his chest.

-----

Fifteen minutes later, the waters parted as a Cybran ACU came up the shore while carrying another on its back. Bagby dumped the useless thing next to him and looked north. The Seven Hand Node pilot’s base was still there, linked to its ACU despite the fact that the pilot was dead. It was useless now of course, just a bunch of units on patrol that could not deviate from their tasks on their own.

In the middle of the base were three trucks protected by an energy shield. Bagby did not need much imagination to figure out what they held. A fraction of their content would make any Cybran into a wealthy man, one truck would most likely allow anyone to carve himself a position of power in any node and the whole set would probably be enough to purchase a small settlement. The goods represented influence and power… which had been gathered by sacrificing good people like Dostya.

Bagby did not even hesitate as he took control of his stealth firebase and fired all the missiles that they had been built during his underwater confrontation. He watched as the transports blew up, feeling barely a hint of satisfaction. The old pilot then turned to the damaged ACU at his feet and prepared his tools. He would crack it open, get to its computer and then find Hex-Five’s location. Nothing would be able to stop him now.

Chapter 8
A Human Choice

General, you have learned much in the short time that you have been with us. You have shown a level of open mindedness and understanding which I have not seen in many years. Even so, there is one more thing that you must understand about Cybrans…

-----

The Cybran ACU took a careful step forward and then another, barely managing to squeeze its enormous frame between two pine trees without damaging either of them. Kazuo smiled as he cleared out of the forest and stepped within range of the gorge. The terrain would make things much easier once he finally reached it.

Kazuo moved forward, but his eagerness caused him to overestimate the stability of the rock formation ahead. The ACU’s heavy frame crushed the rocks, sending stones rolling in every direction. One of those flew large and wide, startling a group of seagulls which had been resting nearby. The birds immediately took flight, screeching in protest at the disturbance.

The Cybran pilot merely held his breath, his frantic heartbeat resounding all the way into his ears even as his eyes stayed glued to his sensors. He waited in place for several seconds before finally sighing in relief and resuming his course. Although his ACU was technically invisible thanks to its cloaking field, Cybran technology still had its limits. Something as casual as a crushed tree or a fresh footprint could alert an enemy if they knew what to look for. Sensors were designed to filter out such minor disturbances, but all it took was one set of eyes looking in the right direction and at the right time to spot a cloaked ACU.

More than one Cybran pilot had died while on scouting missions because he had believed himself to be perfectly invisible. Over six years ago, two of the Cybran Nation’s best infiltration pilots along with a full commando quad had led a deep strike mission into Aeon territory. Their mission had been to try and assassinate the Avatar-of-War. They had failed, suddenly finding themselves surrounded before they even knew what was going on.

Only recently did a Loyalist pilot reveal to them that the team’s presence had been betrayed by a single footstep into the mud. It was ironic that one of the most sophisticated pieces of Cybran technology could be undone by basic tracking skills from the Stone Ages. How much worse could things get now that Kazuo was tracking other Cybrans from the Seven Hand Node? They actually knew what to look for.

Now was not the time for doubts, Kazuo reminded himself. His mission was risky, but he had already seen fresh signs that someone was on this planet. He could have sent a dozen spy planes to investigate, but his own presence would have been revealed should they accidentally fly in range of an omni sensor or fall upon an enemy patrol.

Although Kazuo’s mission was only to locate encampments used by the Seven Hand Node, he wanted to do a lot more than that. He wanted to find them, secretly relay their location back to HQ and then participate in the raid that would wipe them out once and for all. He owed that much to Dostya and only then could everyone that had cared about her find closure.

The Cybran ACU stopped as soon as it reached its waypoint and Kazuo immediately activated his exterior microphone. He listened intensively to every noise: the running water, the birds singing and even the soft footsteps of a herd of herbivores. He ignored all of those and closed his eyes as he focused even harder. The sound was barely perceptible, little more than an echo, but it was there: the sound of a fighter engine.

Kazuo’s fingers moved delicately over his controls, adding one audio filter after the other until he could hear it clearly. From the sound of it, there were probably three or four planes flying in close formation. No Alliance forces were in the area, but that did not mean that Kazuo had hit the jackpot just yet. He could have easily fallen upon the Seraphim, the Order or even QAI. He would need to get a confirmation.

Now came the risky part, the moment where Kazuo might accidentally reveal his presence. He built a stealth generator first, his eyes gazing into the horizon for any sign of the enemy. He then assembled an omni sensor and watched as some more information was relayed to his screen. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then five grey dots appeared on Kazuo’s tactical screen.

There it was, the only confirmation that he needed. The close proximity of the dots as well as their layout suggested that they were wall segments which had been left outside of a stealth field. That was a rookie’s mistake, something that happened whenever the layout of a base had been improvised. QAI never made that kind of mistake and the lack of any airborne signatures suggested that the planes that Kazuo was hearing were using stealth fields and were therefore Cybran.

“It’s them,” whispered Kazuo softly even as he reclaimed both structures back. He then directed a pulse laser towards the distant relay beacon that he had set up and opened a channel to Valerie: “Signal HQ; we found them.”

-----

Dozens of analysts and tacticians worked frantically through the command center, monitoring the progress from the pilots who were tracking the Seven Hand Node. General Hall stood upon the elevated platform and listened for the key phrases through the tumult of reports. One analyst suddenly spoke from the far right corner: “News from sector twelve; no contact.”

“Same for seventeen; pilots moving on to the next sector,” said another not far away. Hall kept listening in to the reports, but part of him wrestled with an important dilemma. A large segment of their strategic and military assets had been deployed to track down the Seven Hand Node and hopefully find a trace of Bagby as well. In the end, however, one fact remained: strategically speaking, it was the wrong move.

The Seven Hand Node had been exposed and their ties to the Alliance severed. They could still potentially do some damage in the long run, but nothing in comparison to the Seraphim and their allies. Tracking them down should be a secondary objective and he knew it.

People like General Fletcher had already voiced their opposition to the pursuit and yet what would the consequences be if he stopped the chase now? Could they even prevent the Seven Hand Node from fleeing to the far reaches of the galaxy? How much time could they realistically dedicate to the chase: a few days, weeks or even a month?

The Princess had already voiced her support in whatever course the Alliance chose and Doctor Brackman remained in a self imposed exile in his laboratory. This meant that the decision rested squarely upon Hall’s shoulders. So what was the correct decision in that context to win the war and save the Alliance?

Hall’s eyes drifted down to the data chip on his console. It was a parting gift from Dostya and from what he understood, several more had been distributed to the people that she had cared for or interacted with. Hall suddenly found himself missing her counsel. She had always found a way to adapt the situation so that it would be militarily sound yet human in the end. That is what he needed now.

A thought suddenly occurred to Hall and he turned to the analyst closest to him: “I’ll be in my office for a moment.”

He left the command center while taking a hold of the chip and stepped into his cramped office. There he quickly activated his terminal, plugged in the data chip and prayed that the video file would give him the insight that he needed.

A miniature holographic image of Dostya appeared above his console and nodded back at him: “General, you have learned much in the short time that you have been with us. You have shown a level of open mindedness and understanding which I have not seen in many years.”

Hall was glad that she had not said ‘for a UEF Commander’, but he let go of the thought and listened as her tone darkened: “Even so, there is one more thing that you must understand about Cybrans… a truth that is known to us all, but that we have hidden from you: we are a fractured people.”

The declaration caused Hall’s head to jerk back in surprise. Cybrans always stood together in his limited experience, but then again, he had not known them prior to the formation of the Alliance. The General crossed his hands and leaned forward as Dostya kept speaking: “The merciless campaign waged by the Avatar-of-War forced rival nodes to band together. The Seraphim pushed us one step further, forcing us to ally with our former foes.”

Hall grimaced despite himself as he remembered the sleepless nights spent trying to ease the integration process. So many cultural aspects divided the Cybran Nation from the UEF that it had been a miracle that they had managed to pull it through. Dostya also nodded, almost as if her thoughts at the moment of the recording mirrored Hall’s: “When this war is over, past tensions will resurface. I know that you dream of unity, but for that dream to ever come true, you will have to let us go on our way. The Cybran Nation will need to find a purpose; a sense of identity to define us. Only then will old wounds heal.”

The piece of news caused Hall’s heart to skip a beat. Was that what laid in front of them? Would the Alliance fall apart once the Seraphim were defeated? Hall believed with all his heart that he could make it work, but Dostya shook her head sadly: “That is the last advice that I can give you. Farewell and bring this war to an end, for all our sakes.”

The message ended there and the hologram disappeared. The UEF General found himself regretting accessing it, thinking that it had added yet another burden on his shoulders instead of giving him a solution. His console lit up then and Slate’s face appeared: “General, we just got a fix on a major Seven Hand Node encampment.”

Hall nodded before stepping out of his office and back in the command center: “Have our forces in the area been detected?”

“Negative, sir,” said Slate, his unblinking eyes staring ahead. Hall looked at the information on the main screen and hesitated. If he gave the order to attack now then he would commit even more forces to the Seven Hand Node’s destruction. The logical choice would be to call it off, but by doing so, he would go against the wishes of all of those who were throwing their heart and souls into avenging Dostya.

The lack of a response puzzled Slate who turned around and raised an eyebrow: “Sir?”

Hall suddenly realized that everyone in the Command center was looking back at him. They were worried, yes, but their eyes also shone with dedication and a will to see this through. They were all doing this for different reasons, but right now they were united, even if this was not the logical course of action. Hall felt the weight on his shoulders ease up for a moment as he realized one thing: this was not the time for a logical choice, but a human one.

Hall straightened, his gaze becoming harder as he spoke in a voice that carried through the command center: “Send all available pilots in the area to that planet immediately. Surround and destroy them.”

Everyone went to work, relaying the orders to UEF, Cybran and Loyalist commanders in all sectors. Hall turned to Slate and raised an eyebrow: “What are the odds that the Seven Hand Node has recall technology as its disposal?”

Slate scratched his right ear in contemplation before nodding back: “Considering that it’s Hex-Five, pretty high.”

“Then we keep our reserve pilots here,” said Hall while looking back at the main screen: “I want them ready to deploy the moment that we get a fix on their recall point. The secondary attack force will be led by Brigadier General Fletcher. The pilots that are currently out of range of the conflict should regroup here.”

A thought occurred to Hall and he turned a slightly worried glance to Slate: “You will be able to track them through the quantum network, won’t you?”

Slate snorted and cracked his fingers, ready for the challenge.

-----

Sweat tickled down the right side of Kazuo’s face as he took another step closer. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but he just had to do it. Other pilots from the Alliance were gating in secret and establishing their base, but the opportunity for a first strike would only win them so much of an advantage. If he could gain some clear intelligence on the enemy’s defenses, however, then the initial strike could perhaps take out a pilot or two before they even got time to react.

All he needed to do now was to get a little closer. The Cybran stopped his ACU near the side of the gorge and quickly assembled a stealth generator. He then started building a perimeter monitoring system: the Soothsayer.

A knot formed in the pit of Kazuo’s stomach as the structure appeared in front of him. It was huge; nearly a hundred and forty meters tall, with a dome that was almost half as wide. If anyone caught sight of it then it would practically put a bright X where Kazuo stood with an indication written: shoot here.

Even so, it was a risk worth taking. Kazuo would only need to keep it operational for a little while, maybe thirty seconds at the most, to evaluate the enemy’s perimeter defenses and patrolling units. It was too late to second guess his decision anyway as the structure came online.

Small vents opened all along the dome, spraying the air with nano bots. These in turn spread out, forming an ever growing cloud that relayed visual information back to Kazuo’s ACU. The nano bots were undetectable by anything short of a surgical sensor. Most importantly, however, was that the data that they relayed was one hundred percent accurate. Only the cloaking field of a Cybran ACU or SCU could possibly elude them, but any other type of stealth system would be rendered powerless no matter what technology was used.

The field grew around the Soothsayer and Kazuo smiled in triumph the moment that they revealed the stealth air superiority fighters that were on patrol. He had done it! The Cybran’s eyes gazed around excitedly as the field kept expanding and exposing the rest of the enemy perimeter: the ground patrols, wall segments, factories, shield and stealth generators, strategic missile defense and more. Kazuo’s smile froze on his face when the Soothsayer reached its maximum range and revealed the one thing that he had hoped to avoid: an omni sensor.

Kazuo cursed in Japanese even as he turned around and ran away while forcing his stealth generator and Soothsayer to self destruct. He knew that the omni sensor’s high intensity scanners which was designed to pierce stealth fields had the same operational range as the Soothsayer. In other terms, he had crept too close and unwillingly exposed his position.

For a brief moment, Kazuo dared to hope that whoever was responsible for that part of the base’s perimeter might have been distracted, but that possibility was quickly erased as a wing of strategic bombers flew above him. They did not drop their payload, however, since they needed to find Kazuo first by using spy planes.

The face of a Cybran woman appeared on Kazuo’s screen then and a quick look showed that she was broadcasting on all frequencies: “Where are you going, pretty boy?”

Kazuo immediately altered course, trying to keep a non linear pattern so that his opponent would have a harder time locating him. His gaze accidentally drifted to his opponent and he scowled in disgust. Her skin was flawless, but her sculpted features betrayed the fact that she had no doubt undergone several cosmetic surgeries. Being an ACU pilot was an ugly job, one which often involved bruises, fumes, oil and more. Those eventually left marks on a pilot, no matter how careful he or she was.

Few doctors practiced cosmetic surgeries in the Cybran Nation, mostly because there were far more important tasks for them to dedicate their efforts to. Kazuo could not guess how or why she had undergone these procedures nor did he really care. No matter what she was trying to hide, the fact remained that she must definitely have one heck of a narcissistic complex, especially in a time of war when the survival of humanity was at stake.

The Seven Hand Node pilot smiled, exposing her pearly white teeth: “It’s not nice to sneak on a lady like that…”

The sound of a fighter engine warned Kazuo that something was coming his way and he twisted the torso of his ACU around to try and guess where it was coming from. In the meantime, his opponent spoke in purring and suggestive voice: “Why don’t you come out? I promise to give you a goodbye kiss before the end.”

Kazuo’s eyes widened in horror when he spotted the distant shape of a spy plane on the horizon. There was no way to dodge or hide. Once he was spotted, it would be all over. The enemy spy plane suddenly exploded before it could get any closer. The Seven Hand Node pilot’s eyes immediately widened in surprise: “What?”

Another face appeared on Kazuo’s screen and he smiled in relief even as waves of stealth air superiority fighters came to support him. Valerie’s eyes were dark, her face muscles taunt and her terrifying gaze promised death even as she spoke: “Get away from my husband!”

A half chuckle escaped Kazuo even as he set a course back to safety. He knew it was not funny, but deep down, it was one of the attributes that he had grown to love about his wife. She loved him… and that meant that no other woman had the right to flirt or even make suggestive remarks to him, even if it was meant as a taunt. Assumptas were incredibly possessive and the Seven Hand Node pilot had just ensured that Valerie would come at her with a vengeance.

Weisman suddenly appeared on Kazuo’s screen on a private channel: “Kazuo, are you all right?”

“Yes, Major,” said Kazuo while taking control of his own base. The time for stealth was over: “I’m retreating to safety now.”

“Good,” said Weisman while nodding vigorously: “More pilots are on the way. Let’s give those bastards what they deserve!”

-----

Hex-Five looked to the horizon worriedly as traces of weapons fire lit the sky. The battle had just begun and it had reached the settlement far sooner than expected. The smuggler tapped his foot nervously while considering the possibility that he had miscalculated yet again: “How many?”

Visle appeared on his screen, his eager face betraying the fact that he was hoping to get back in the smuggler’s good graces: “Unknown, but…”

“Tell me how many!” screamed Hex-Five back in anger. Teco appeared next, the veteran’s dark eyes fully relaxed: “Four, maybe five so far with more on the way.”

“Which is exactly what I was about to say,” said Visle quickly while straightening his shoulders: “We should retreat now and…”

“No!” shouted Hex-Five while slamming a fist on his console: “We have the best weapons that Cybran technology has to offer at our disposal! If the Alliance wants to take us on then we need to show them that we cannot be pushed around so easily! Otherwise, they will keep pursuing us.”

Visle winced, but Teco merely nodded: “Keep your separate quantum gates active. I don’t want us to rely on recall technology if we don’t have to.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Hex-Five and he leaned closer to his screen: “And if you see a Cybran ACU standing apart from the rest then it’s Bagby. I want him dead!”

Visle was about to protest, but Teco looked back to him, his dark eyes making it clear that now was not the time to argue.

-----

Five minutes later, Visle cursed under his breath as new numbers were forwarded to his screen. How many more enemy ACUs had just gated to the planet; six or seven? His men were used to fighting in superior numbers or with some other type of advantage. This battle, on the other hand, was quickly transforming into an even fight: “Hold your ground, you cowards!”

A signal appeared on Visle’s screen and he sighed in relief. Reinforcements were finally coming their way. His nearby quantum gate powered up and a brilliant flash quickly followed. Visle adopted his most fearsome expression before opening a channel: “Cobal! It’s about time that you showed up!”

The commander of the Azure Veil’s forces snorted before pressing a few buttons on his console: “Your share of the goods had better be in safe storage, mucus face! Now head to these coordinates and watch our flank. I’m transferring you a basic infrastructure and a few units. Don’t waste them!”

Bagby nodded back even as he accepted the units, his transmitter relaying Cobal’s features instead of his own. With his ACU equipped with a stolen ID signature, Bagby took his position and started upgrading his ACU.

Chapter 9
A Knife in the Back

There are many unsung heroes in this war. They do not pilot ACUs, research the latest weapon or spy upon our enemies, but instead provide us with the very foundation that we need to stand on. You are one such hero.

Every time that we got back from a mission, we knew that you would be there, waiting for us with an open table and a bottle of Minerva Swamp. Your efforts helped us maintain the most precious thing of all: hope.

I have one last favor to ask of you and you probably guessed what it is by now. I want you to keep an eye out for Bagby. There will come a day when he will need you. When that day comes, you’ll know what to do.

-----

The quantum gate flashed once before a UEF ACU appeared at its center. Desjar shook his head to clear the effects of the jump while acknowledging the structures that were transferred to him with his right hand. He was ten minutes late, an eternity in ACU warfare, but a mere inconvenience in this case. The Seven Hand Node was firmly entrenched and apparently ready to make a stand. Rules of engagement changed under these circumstances.

“Report,” said Desjar after opening a channel to Weisman. The Major barely nodded, his mind completely focused on the battle at hand: “The enemy is boxed in, between five and nine pilots in all.”

Desjar zoomed out his tactical map to get a better grasp of the situation even as Weisman kept speaking: “I sent Flinn, Garriot and a few Loyalists to the north, west and eastern side of the enemy base to block them off. Other Alliance pilots have been called to reinforce them. That leaves us with a clear line of approach from the south.”

“Good,” said Desjar even as he looked at the tactical map. The situation was exactly as he had envisioned it; they were a good eighty kilometers away from the Seven Hand Node complex. Weisman nodded knowingly: “They have a Scathis, maybe two from the looks of it.”

So that was their game, thought Desjar even as he assigned orders to his engineers. The Scathis had been redesigned since the beginning of their war with the Seraphim, transforming from a powerful but standard experimental weapon into what was commonly called a game ender.

The debate on whether the modified Scathis was a match for the Mavor was moot at this point. The Seven Hand Node had deployed them; two experimental weapons with a firing range that was almost as long as the maximum operational radius of an ACU. For now, Alliance forces were safely out of range. Gaining and holding ground while the enemy had these two weapons online, however, would be another task entirely.

The Seven Hand Node’s goal was clear. They would stand their ground behind mountains of units and wait for the Alliance to walk into range. They would not move forward because they simply did not need to. They were not trying to win; only to make the Alliance pay should they pursue them. If Desjar ordered his troops to build Mavors, a task that would prove almost impossible if discovered, then the smugglers would gate out the moment that the situation turned against them.

A few years ago, Desjar would have called off the attack and waited for a better opportunity instead of jumping in a no win scenario. Now, however, he had the combined strengths of all of the Alliance’s factions at his disposal. In such a context, there were no such things as no win scenarios.

“Then we’ll need to stay mobile,” said Desjar confidently while opening a channel to all Alliance pilots: “I want all pilots in the northern, western and eastern part of this battle to engage in decoy missions. Keep them guessing, but don’t go too far in and see if you can get their Scathis’ attention. Your primary objective is to keep anyone from escaping.”

Desjar turned towards the remaining UEF pilots of his squad and nodded: “We’ll march as soon as our army is ready. Send field engineers first without any escort. We’ll know if they stumbled in enemy radar range when they get attacked. I want our real army a few steps behind.”

The UEF Commander then looked to the Cybrans on his side of the field: “Kazuo, Valerie, we’ll need deceivers to mask our presence. I’ll also need you to use stealth fighters, bombers and spy planes to hunt down and destroy any other enemy experimental that might try to lay an ambush for us.”

Desjar then turned to the Loyalists: “Thalia, we’ll be counting on you and the pilots under your command for air support. That means Czars and escort fighters moving ahead of us.”

Thalia’s eyes widened and her mouth opened to protest: “But Bagby…”

“Is not here yet,” interrupted Desjar quickly. His eyes drifted back towards the distant Seven Hand Node: “If we stop Hex-Five then it all ends here and Bagby will come back home. This is our best shot. We need to move and break through the Seven Hand Node’s defenses in a single push. Between your Czars and our Fatboys, we’ll have all the mobile manufacturing facilities that we’ll need.”

Thalia hesitated a second longer before nodding her agreement. Desjar closed the channel to all pilots except for Weisman and busied himself with preparing his forces. The second in command queued in more orders, but his eyes darted back to Desjar for a second: “You think Bagby would be crazy enough to show up in the middle of this?”

“Keep your eyes peeled just in case,” said Desjar with a wince, visions of a past battle coming to mind: “He’s done worse before.”

-----

Ten minutes later, Hex-Five tapped his fingers nervously together as he observed the battle. The Alliance was on the move; countless units advancing on every front in a well coordinated manner. The smuggler could send his own forces against them, but he preferred to leave this task to his underlings while he stayed safely in the middle of the settlement.

Although he would never openly admit it, Hex-Five knew that he was not the best of pilots. Past experience had taught him that he had the mind of a brilliant strategist, but lacked the skills to adapt his plans on the fly while controlling his army. At any rate, every great work of art needed its architect and Hex-Five was more than willing to play that role. Besides, on a practical level, it also allowed him to keep his troops close by should something go wrong… and right now, it sure seemed that things were heading that way.

Hex-Five cursed viciously as a flight of their spy planes managed to run through the incoming Loyalist armada only to be ambushed by Cybran air superiority fighters. He slammed a fist into his console and turned towards the pilot who had failed to scout out the enemy: “I want to know the composition of our enemy’s army, now!”

“We’re trying, sir,” responded the pilot while shaking his head: “But it looks like the enemy is deploying omni sensors as it advances. This is the second time that I get intercepted this way.”

“Omni sensors mean land units,” retorted Hex-Five while scowling: “So find them!”

Hex-Five zoomed out his tactical screen and focused on a confrontation that was occurring to the eastern side of their settlement. A small forward outpost had been detected seventy kilometers away a few minutes ago and he had expected it to be destroyed by now. Instead, he found it still fully functional. The smuggler turned to Visle who had been leading that attack: “Damn it, destroy that base already! You have a Scathis for crying out loud!”

“The Scathis was never designed to penetrate shields at that distance,” argued Visle while shaking his head. The pilot watched helplessly as only one out of four shots from the experimental rapid firing artillery managed to hit the target: “It’s probably a decoy while the rest of their army moves forward from another angle. We’d have better odds of doing some real damage by firing randomly all over the area.”

“Don’t give me excuses!” shouted Hex-Five back angrily. He decided right here and now that when this battle was over, he would remove Visle from his command and find someone else to take charge. Loyalty was a valuable asset, but only if it was accompanied by results.

“Patience,” cut in Teco, his voice low and threatening. Hex-Five sneered even as the more experienced pilot explained: “Our long range capabilities are insufficient to hold that ground. Do not waste troops thinking otherwise and wait for them to get within forty kilometers. Only then can we effectively strike back.”

-----

Visle felt his stomach twist in a knot with each passing moment. Hex-Five kept blaming him for everything even though it was not his fault. This was all because he had been forced to flee, just as ordered, the moment that the Azure Veil had been attacked. To lose a privilege or two was one thing, but this time, it felt as though he was being set up to take the blame when this was all over, no matter what happened.

“Just keep pushing me,” muttered Visle under his breath, the option of bailing out becoming more tempting by the minute. Now was not yet the time to burn the bridges just yet, however, and Visle opened a channel to the other pilot who was lagging behind: “Cobal, get moving, you moron! Are you expecting someone to throw you an invitation?”

Visle was about to curse some more, but Cobal’s forces suddenly started moving. The other pilot had taken it easy so far in his own corner of the battlefield, upgrading his ACU and building an overabundance of defensive structures and turrets. Visle nodded; glad that someone was finally listening to him, but he paused as he analyzed the attack force. It was small and easily ignored, but it was still made of fifteen Brick armored assault bots. Most importantly, they were going to reach the battlefield by crossing through Visle’s base.

The knot in Visle’s stomach intensified as he considered that the attack force was strong enough to take out even a fully upgraded Cybran ACU. Could Hex-Five be so bold as to order Cobal to dispose of him in the middle of a major battle? No, he would not be that foolish. Still, Visle’s paranoid urges grew with every second that they moved closer and he set a course towards the opposite edge of his base. There was no fault in taking extra precautions, was there?

The Seven Hand Node pilot sighed in relief when the attack force did not alter its course to compensate. He was about to focus once again on the battle when an explosion happened in the middle of Cobal’s base followed by a discharge that lit up the battlefield. Warning lights immediately flashed through Visle’s cockpit, indicating a single damning message: quantum wake detected.

Cobal’s gate had overloaded? How was such a thing even possible? Everything happened in slow motion as Visle turned his attention back to Cobal’s forces just as they opened fire. Their heavy disintegrator pulse lasers tore through his Scathis in seconds and then turned to the rest of the base, ignoring the return fire from the nearby turrets. The horrified face of another Seven Hand Node pilot appeared on Visle’s screen and screamed: “Hey! Stop it!”

-----

Bagby growled the moment that he saw Visle’s ACU pull away from his approaching forces. The pilot was probably being paranoid, but Bagby could not correct his Bricks’ course without tipping his hand. He would have to settle for destroying the Scathis and leveling his base instead.

Two air transports suddenly flew in and Bagby braced himself as one of them picked him up. He then looked at his forces one last time before pressing the button that sent his plan, and the four dozen commands behind it, into motion. He flew towards the front line where two Seven Hand Node pilots were fighting side by side while simultaneously launching strategic bombers towards the Scathis on the other end of the battlefield. He landed next to one enemy ACU just as his Brick attack force reached the middle of Visle’s base.

The face of a surprised pilot immediately appeared on Bagby’s screen: “What are you…”

A blow straight in the cockpit shut him up and sent his ACU stumbling backwards. Bagby did not stop there and used the few precious seconds to order his second transport to pick up the stunned pilot. The ACU automatically accepted the docking procedure because of the valid authentication codes and the pilot recovered just as the transport latched on to him: “Hey! Stop it!”

The transport immediately flew away, carrying the surprised Seven Hand Node pilot up at breath taking speeds. Meanwhile, Bagby’s Brick armored assault bots opened fire in the middle of Visle’s base even as his strategic bombers dropped their payloads on the second Scathis. Heavy disintegrator pulse lasers and neutron bombs passed through enemy shields unimpeded, their frequency being a perfect match.

Bagby did not stop there and used his original transport to carry him towards the other nearby enemy ACU. He landed next to him a few seconds later and attacked. His molecular ripper cannon fired one shot after another and as his ACU’s chest plate slid open to reveal the heavy microwave laser. The enemy ACU tried to shoot back, but Bagby already had a head start and it soon overloaded in a brilliant nuclear explosion.

The strength of the blast sent Bagby’s ACU flying backward, but he ignored the blow and pressed another button, releasing the pilot which had been captured by his flying transport. The ACU fell from the sky and crashed in the middle of another Seven Hand Node pilot’s base. The impact immediately ruptured its main reactor, causing it to overload and take half of the base’s defenses with it.

Bagby watched the detonation with a grim smile while rearranging his forces. The initial blow had been struck, but this battle would only end when Hex-Five’s head would be thrust on a spike for all to see.

-----

A pair of Monkeylords moved out of the small lake, their lasers powering up as they prepared to jump into battle. They found themselves surrounded by over a dozen Restorers before they could take more than a few steps, the gunships’ quad light lasers pealing one layer of armor after another.

The Monkeylords fought back by firing nanite missiles, but the defensive system was meant to ward off light bombers and not hardened gunships. The Seven Hand Node pilot controlling the experimental weapons apparently thought better of continuing his assault and ordered them back into the lake. Unfortunately for him, a pair of Fatboys had just rolled into range and their combined firepower immediately flooded the area.

Explosive shells crashed into one Monkeylord, rupturing a critical power relay and causing its heavy microwave laser to overload in a brilliant explosion. The remaining experimental weapon kept moving, but one of its forward legs suddenly collapsed from the critical amount of damage it had received. It crashed head first into the ground, but still had enough power to get back to its feet and limp towards the lake. It took its first step into the water just as a flight of Cybran stealth strategic bombers dropped their payload on top of it. The neutron bombs proved too much and the Monkeylord exploded before crashing back to the ground.

The dozen Restorers waited in the area for a few seconds before withdrawing back to the nearby Czar to refuel and repair. Thirty seconds later, a UEF mechanical field engineer rolled into the area and stopped to reclaim the wreckage. The resources would be used to build even more units. Desjar had watched the confrontation on his tactical screen from a safe distance and while he enjoyed the minor victory, he knew that the real battle had only just begun.

“Brace yourselves,” said the UEF Commander to every pilot while nodding grimly. They had slowly but surely made their way towards the Seven Hand Node’s base and they were only fifty kilometers away. Desjar had a feeling that the Seven Hand Node would only seriously strike back when they got within forty to thirty kilometers: “Things are about to get rough from here on out.”

No sooner had Desjar said the words that it was followed by not one, but two nuclear explosions right the middle of the Seven Hand Node’s base. The UEF pilot blinked in surprise before jumping on his controls: “Who’s in there?”

Desjar knew the difference between a nuclear missile and an ACU detonation. No one short of QAI would dare sacrifice an ACU as a decoy in such a fashion which left only two options. Either there was a mutiny in the Seven Hand Node ranks or…

“Bagby!” cried Thalia in horror, coming to the same conclusion as Desjar.

“How?” asked Weisman incredulously. Thalia ignored the question and broke rank, sending all of her air forces forward. She then ordered one of her air transports to pick up her ACU and flew in straight after them. Desjar’s eyes widened in shock: “Thalia! Get back here!”

Meanwhile, Weisman looked at his tactical screen and nodded: “Enemy Scathis stopped firing and I think part of the southern perimeter just self destructed. They are wide open!”

Desjar cursed before speaking to every pilot: “Full charge! Go!”

-----

“That’s him,” cried Hex-Five with a mixture of horror and disbelief the moment that the first nuclear explosion occurred: “That’s Bagby! Shoot him down!”

Teco immediately appeared on his screen, but spoke to all remaining Seven Hand Node pilots: “Everyone, cut him off our sensor network, reinitialize your stealth grids, rotate shield frequencies and engage.”

Hex-Five cursed loudly even as he carried out the commands. Bagby had somehow stolen Cobal’s identification codes and infiltrated their settlement. How he had managed it was unimportant at the moment. The smuggler smiled grimly as he considered the benefit from this incident. Bagby was within reach. If he died then the hunt would be over!

Visle’s face appeared on Hex-Five’s screen before he could enjoy the piece of good news: “My base is destroyed, I’m recalling!”

Hex-Five’s eyes widened in shock at the betrayal and he zoomed in on Visle. The coward had fled away from his base and far enough from Bagby’s overloaded gate to escape the effects of the quantum wake. His ACU disappeared as it was pulled out by their recall station and Hex-Five slammed a fist angrily into his console: “Damn it! Lock all recall commands until I say so. No one leaves unless I give the word! Bagby has to die!”

One of the remaining Seven Hand Node pilots appeared on Hex-Five’s screen with a worried look on his face: “The Alliance is on its way and our southern front is heavily compromised. We won’t be able to hold them!”

Teco interrupted the scared pilot: “The effects of the quantum wake will dissipate momentarily. Hold them off for a few minutes and we’ll all leave using our gates. We are still in control of this fight... I will handle Bagby.”

The confidence in Teco’s voice reassured Hex-Five who leaned back into his seat. Soon it would all be over and victory would be his! His fantasies evaporated the moment that Visle’s face reappeared on his screen. For once, even Teco seemed surprise: “What the hell are you doing?”

Visle’s lower lip trembled as he spoke: “I was told… to give you… a message…”

Hex-Five’s entire body grew rigid and he reached forward with his hands as if to strangle the coward: “You fool, stop transmitting! You are further compromising the location of our recall station!”

Visle’s horrified gaze turned to his right and his head shook ever so slightly: “Oh god no… no, please!”

The cockpit grew red and everyone watched in surprise as one onboard control after another overloaded. The transmission ended with a gut wrenching scream, leaving no doubt that Visle had been killed. Hex-Five was about to ask what had happened when another transmission appeared on his screen using the same frequency and authentication codes. The smuggler felt as though his breath had been stolen when he recognized the pilot: “Redfog!”

The assassin nodded, his gaze piercing the smuggler as effectively as any blade. Hex-Five double checked his instruments and confirmed what he had come to suspect: “You’re at our recall station? How?”

Redfog lifted a hand, exposing the severed head from one of the Seven Hand Node’s spy masters: “I can be very persuasive...”

The assassin dropped the grim trophy back to the bottom of his cockpit, his eyes never leaving Hex-Five: “Did you really believe that I would stand idly by after you killed an Assumpta Chaslain?”

The threat twirled through Hex-Five’s head even as Redfog reached down the side of his cockpit. Why was this happening? The assassins were not supposed to be part of this! No Cybran that had held the title of Redfog had ever undertaken a vendetta in the name of someone who was not part of the Assumpta Node!

Hex-Five was about to voice his protest when Redfog lifted his hand, exposing a remote detonator. The smuggler was certain at that moment that the assassin held the fate of his recall station, his sole remaining exit point, in the palm of his hand. Hex-Five reached forward pleadingly: “Your price, just name it!”

“Blood,” responded Redfog slowly. A vicious smile slowly spreading under his mask as he elaborated: “Cut open your wrists. I’ll tell you when you’ve spilled enough.”

Somehow, Hex-Five was persuaded that Redfog would not be satisfied until the loss of blood had killed him. The smuggler stood frozen in his cockpit even as Redfog pressed the button on his detonator. A green light immediately went red on the smuggler’s console, confirming that the recall station had been destroyed. Hex-Five looked at the display in horror before turning back to the assassin. Redfog merely tilted his head to the side: “Can you feel them closing in on you now?”

All color drained from Hex-Five’s face as Redfog laughed cruelly at him.

Chapter 10
Waltz of the Dead

I have regretted many decisions in my life. How could we do otherwise when the price of our mistakes is measured in human lives? If there is something that you must remember, however, is that I have never regretted becoming an ACU pilot and fighting for what I believed in. I like to think that for every life that I took, hundreds were spared; free to live another day.

You dreamed of freedom for your children and I fully embraced that vision. Were the choice presented to me again, I would do it once more without hesitation. So grieve for me, say your goodbyes and then stand up once more. Remember the fire that burns within you and in the heart of every Cybran man, woman and child!

-----

General Hall leaned forward over his console, his gaze intense as one of the analysts spoke above the tumult in the command center: “Preparing to jump in five, four…”

Slate suddenly stood up without warning while raising a hand: “Scrub the launch!”

The countdown halted immediately and multiple voices relayed the command to their assigned ACU pilot. Fletcher quickly appeared on the command center’s main screen, obviously upset: “What the hell is going on up there?”

“New intelligence,” said Slate while sitting back in his chair. The analyst smirked as he explained: “Redfog just destroyed the Seven Hand Node’s recall station. There’s no need to send you.”

“Why weren’t we notified of this earlier?” asked Hall in an attempt to diffuse the situation. The Cybran merely shrugged, his fingers wriggling over his holographic console as he focused on some other task: “Redfog and the rest of the Assumpta Node were acting independently. I’m surprised that they even bothered to tell us in the first place.”

The explanation did nothing to calm Fletcher’s mood. The Brigadier General’s gaze darkened and his lips twisted in an ugly grimace as he spoke: “Can’t Cybrans monitor their own forces? First Bagby and now…”

“Feel free to talk to Redfog about it the next time you see him,” Interrupted Slate sarcastically with a dismissive wave of his hand: “I’m sure that he’ll be very receptive to any form of constructive criticism.”

A few chuckles erupted through the command center from both UEF and Cybran analysts alike. Fletcher kept glowering at Slate, but Hall cleared his voice before he could say anything: “Enough. Keep our gates charged and ready. If Hex-Five manages to flee through other means then I want us right on his tail.”

-----

The Cybran ACU stood quietly upon the remains of a land factory, the outline of its frame barely visible thanks to its cloaking field. No anger or trepidation quickened Teco’s heart as he contemplated Visle’s destroyed base. The Commander of the Azure Veil had not been a formidable pilot, but he had served his purpose well during his time.

Part of Teco knew that he should be somewhat worried that Redfog had been involved in the other pilot’s death. The Assumpta Node was a ruthless enemy and their pilots were amongst the most lethal that the Cybran Nation had to offer. Their reputation alone would be enough to make every other pilot in the Seven Hand Node nervous even though they should be more worried about the forces closing in on them right now. Whoever was leading the charge knew of the strengths of each faction and it would only be a matter of time before their defenses were breached.

Yet despite it all, Teco still felt absolutely nothing. The experienced pilot was used to the lack of sensation and knew that it was a side effect of his Denazol addiction. Things had not always been like this of course. Six years ago, Teco had had a reason to care and had fully embraced Doctor Brackman’s dream of freedom. Now that dream was gone as was his life’s purpose. All that was left was this endless string of missions with the occasional Denazol shot.

Perhaps this is what it meant to be a perfect pilot; to be free of pain, fear and guilt without losing the creativity and determination that defined the human will. It might not allow him to ward off the Alliance forever but right now, it would be enough to stop Bagby. Teco knew about the eccentric pilot and had even met him once. He had guessed even then that the old pilot’s wacky nature was a façade; a way for him to keep everyone off balance. Teco had watched a few replays including his now legendary battle against a Seraphim SCU and had witnessed Bagby’s incredible hand to hand skills. He was ready for it.

Right now, Bagby had the combined mass from at least two destroyed bases at his fingertips. This would normally allow him to build a flurry of experimental weapons and cause some serious havoc, but Teco knew that he wouldn’t. The quantum wake caused by Bagby’s overloaded gate would only prevent them from escaping for a few more minutes; not enough time to assemble a new army. This would be his only window of opportunity to strike at Hex-Five and for that to happen, he would have to pass through Teco first.

The Seven Hand Node pilot looked at the army that was waiting obediently behind him. Multiple Loyalists, mobile flak artillery, a few Bricks and even a Monkeylord stood at the ready. He turned back just as Bagby’s army appeared on his sensor. He did not know its exact composition, but data collected prior to Bagby’s attack had revealed that Teco’s army should be superior.

Not that it would matter at any rate. The only way for Bagby to get a shot at Hex-Five would be for him to dispose of Teco quickly and knowing him, that should imply a direct ACU confrontation. The Seven Hand Node pilot kept that in mind as he sent his army forward, but stationed four Brick armored assault bots at his side. His fingers darted over his controls, micro managing his army with precise strikes even as he kept an eye towards the horizon. Any moment now, Bagby would pull off a reckless move, he was sure of it.

As if on queue, a group of three air transports suddenly flew over the battlefield at a low altitude, all of which were empty. Teco knew that he had basically outlined his position by keeping the Bricks near him, but that was part of his plan as well. The mobile flak artillery fired at the incoming transports, destroying one and severely damaging the other two. Teco prepared his heavy microwave and smiled when his omni sensors confirmed that Bagby’s cloaked ACU was aboard one of those transports: “Come one then…”

Bagby hit the ground running and charged even as Teco fired his heavy microwave laser. The beam caught the incoming ACU in the leg, peeling away a section of the armor, but doing nothing to slow the mad charge. Teco shielded his cockpit with one arm and was momentarily taken by surprise when Bagby struck for the chest instead. The collision made a loud bang through the cockpit and forced both ACUs to take several steps to absorb the momentum

Multiple warning lights flared through Teco’s cockpit, warning him that his heavy microwave laser had just been shut down. The Seven Hand Node pilot chuckled despite himself as he read the detail: the focusing lens had been forced beyond its maximum angle.

The Cybran ACU upgrade was extremely durable, capable of absorbing all but the most devastating of hits. It also relied upon a complex mechanical system to quickly and accurately switch targets and by jabbing an arm in there, Bagby was effectively preventing Teco from using it. The attack had happened in the blink of an eye, but the Bricks soon turned and started firing at Bagby’s ACU. The old pilot immediately twisted one arm and fired an overloaded shot, destroying one of them even as his chest plate slid open to reveal his own heavy microwave laser.

“Impressive,” said Teco admiringly even as he overrode his ACU’s safety protocols. The Seven Hand Node pilot’s chest plate was forcibly closed, trapping the forward portion of Bagby’s left arm. Bagby tried to bring his heavy microwave laser to bear, but Teco pushed back with his left arm against the side of the enemy’s chest, keeping him at an awkward angle: “But I’m not so easy to get rid of!”

Teco pushed back, slamming Bagby into the wreckage of the Brick that he had just destroyed. Meanwhile, the three remaining armored assault bots kept firing at the enemy ACU, scoring hit after hit. Bagby tried to fire another overloaded shot, but Teco pulled at the last moment, sending the blast off course.

A loud bang resounded through Teco’s cockpit as Bagby struck him, but he growled it away as if it did not matter and kept pushing and pulling to keep his opponent off balance and striking back when he could. Blow after blow rained on top of the Seven Hand Node pilot, half of which would have been enough to stun a lesser man. However, the large amounts of Denazol running through his veins lowered the impact and he did not even flinch when a side panel exploded, severely burning his leg in the process. Meanwhile, the constant barrage of heavy disintegrator pulse lasers took their toll.

One of Bagby’s ornamental spikes was blown away and a few shots to the cockpit shattered two of the ACU’s four eyes, severely damaging the sensors. A concentrated barrage finally overloaded the cloak generator upgrade on his back and the explosion sent both ACUs tumbling off a hill. Teco took the opportunity to force his chest plate open once more, releasing Bagby’s left arm and letting him roll further down.

“Your reputation is well earned,” said Teco approvingly. He suddenly realized that he tasted his own blood and spat the excess in the corner of his cockpit. Warning lights suddenly disappeared as his heavy microwave laser managed to snap back into position. He looked back to Bagby who came to a final stop a bit further down, his ACU face first in the ground: “But you are fighting in a war that you have already lost.”

The Seven Hand Node pilot’s targeting array reinitialized itself and although the weapon was ready to fire, Teco still took the few extra seconds to make sure that the aim was perfect. This was a worthy adversary, one who deserved the honor of a quick death. He was about to fire when an incoming transmission from Bagby appeared on his screen. Teco’s sneered when he realized that it was nothing but an old recording of Dostya: “That’s just pathetic. Do you really believe that showing this will…”

“Santa?” The words, spoken in a child like voice, caused Teco’s heart to skip a beat. Nothing so far, not Hex-Five, the Alliance, his injuries or the threat to his very life had come even remotely close to unnerving him, but that voice did. The image zoomed out, exposing the rest of the bar which had been cleaned up for the occasion.

Dostya stood next to a large chair, a wide smile on her face even as a small boy jumped on Bagby’s knees. The old pilot wore an obviously fake white beard and a few pillows under his jacket: “Hey, sport!”

“How come you have implants?” asked the boy innocently. Bagby simply laughed before wagging a finger: “What? You think that Santa can keep track of all the good and naughty boys over the galaxy without an upgrade?”

“And Rudolph?” insisted the boy suspiciously. Bagby merely shrugged as if the answer was obvious: “He got a total makeover to be quantum compatible too, but let’s not go too far in the details. Have you been reasonably good this year? Do you run for the transports with the rest of your family when you’re supposed to?”

An eager smile appeared on the kid’s face and Bagby nodded approvingly while reaching for the bag waiting behind him: “Good boy, here you go! A big, juicy orange permanently borrowed from the Aeon Illuminate! Enjoy!”

The boy’s face suddenly grew sadder as he looked at the gift. Bagby scratched his fake beard, a note of concern slipping in his voice: “Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Can I wish for my daddy instead?” said the kid while brandishing the orange back: “I miss him.”

“He’s been out on missions a lot, huh?” asked Bagby knowingly. The old pilot nodded Dostya’s way, his eyes becoming gentle as he spoke: “I know the feeling, I have a daughter and I miss her sometimes too.”

The boy sighed sadly, but Bagby would have none of it. He leaned forward mischievously and spoke barely above a whisper: “Here’s a good trick; you just close your eyes and wish really, really hard. If you believe in magic then it will come true.”

The kid looked at Bagby doubtfully, but closed his eyes anyway. His entire body tensed with all of his might until a voice that was coming from behind the camera spoke: “Deesel?”

“Daddy!” cried the boy excitedly, his eyes opening wide before he sprang off. The transmission ended there, leaving Teco alone once more. He brushed a hand along his right eye and realized that he had been crying. He remembered that day which had happened a little over six years ago. He had worked alongside Node Fifty-Six deep in enemy territory back then when Dostya had suddenly pulled him back.

He had been furious to be relieved after months of hard work, but he had never forgotten the moment when he had stepped into Bagby’s bar only to have his son jump into his arms. Deesel had squeezed him with all the strength that his little body could muster. Teco had been grateful for that, but he would have never guessed that Dostya, as cold and efficient as she was on the battlefield, had played a hand in it.

Six months later, Deesel had perished in an Aeon raid and the rest of the memories were just a blur. Hex-Five had recruited him, gotten him addicted to Denazol and he had served as his ruthless enforcer ever since. Teco had never cared about the morality of his choices since that day, not until this very moment when he realized that Bagby’s pain was just like his.

Teco stood unmoving as Bagby’s ACU got back to its feet and turned back to face him. The two of them merely stared at each other until Teco finally pressed a button and shut down his heavy microwave laser. His chest plate closed over the weapon and Bagby merely started climbing back up the hill on a course that would lead him to Hex-Five.

The smuggler’s face suddenly appeared on Teco’s screen, his eyes frantic: “What are you waiting for, Teco?”

The veteran did not answer, his mind locked upon the events from the past. Hex-Five leaned over his console and screamed at the top of his lungs: “Kill Bagby now!”

Teco merely sneered and closed the channel. His gaze then turned to the south just as Thalia’s air armada breached their perimeter.

-----

Hex-Five’s eyes widened in horror as he gazed at the approaching ACU. Bagby was on a direct course for the smuggler’s quantum gate and Teco was just letting him pass! How and why wasn’t important now. Hex-Five had just sent the brunt of his army to bolster their southern defenses and there was no way for him to recall them in time. He might be able to kill Bagby himself, but there was nothing that he could do to stop the Czars that were right behind him. If he fought back now then he would reveal his position to the Loyalist pilot!

A curse escaped Hex-Five and he looked at his sensors. Drops of nervous sweat rolled down his forehead as they confirmed an ugly fact; the quantum wake would still prevent any form of local travel for the next two minutes! Bagby or the Loyalist pilot would destroy his quantum gate long before then.

A wail of anguish escaped Hex-Five as all of his plans came crashing around him. Even so, there was still one move left for him to play and he set a course away from his base. The smuggler then opened a channel to his sole remaining ally: “QAI!”

There was no answer and Hex-Five twisted his ACU’s torso to look back at his base. Point defense turrets fired at Bagby’s ACU, burning through one layer of armor after another, but doing little to stop him. Bagby still reached the quantum gate and fired his heavy microwave laser, incinerating it in seconds. The destruction of Hex-Five’s last means of escape pushed him to new heights of panic: “Damn it, QAI! I know you can hear me!”

Had Hex-Five been paying closer attention to what was happening in front of him, he would have noticed the nearby Seven Hand Node Soul Ripper get shot out of the sky. The experimental gunship lurched to the side before crashing right besides him. The detonation sent the smuggler’s ACU flying to the side and disrupted his cloaking field for a few precious seconds. By the time that Hex-Five recovered, he saw Bagby’s ACU running straight towards him: “No!”

The smuggler’s breath came in panicked gasps as he tried to run away from his pursuer. If he ever fell within the omni field of Bagby’s ACU then it would all be over. It took him a full three seconds before realizing that QAI had just appeared on his left screen:
“You have to get me out of here!”

The artificial intelligence’s digital eye twirled once in a cool and controlled fashion: “You were instructed to move out of Alliance territory and cover your trial, not stand your ground. Even in that, you failed.”

“Recall me out of here before it’s too late!” cried Hex-Five desperately. Bagby would not gain any ground on him, but every step took him closer to the edge of the settlement and towards the Alliance’s forces. QAI blinked once, a clear sign that it did not care: “I have no use for recall technology.”

“Liar!” spat Hex-Five back while pointing an accusing finger at QAI: “Your drones might be expendable, but your masters are not! You must have at least one secret recall station set up somewhere!”

The lack of a response was all the confirmation that Hex-Five needed and a wicked smile appeared on his face as he pulled on a cord around his neck. A high density data chip stood at its end and he brandished it in front of the screen: “I have this! Stolen research data concerning the integration of UEF and Illuminate experimental weapons using a Cybran energy matrix and Seraphim power sources. With it and your vast processing power, you could complete the project and use experimental units from every faction!”

Again, QAI did not answer and merely gazed at the smuggler. Hex-Five’s hands started trembling, but he persisted, convinced that the information that he held was more than a fair trade for his life: “If I die, this information goes with me!”

-----

Hundreds of air superiority fighters, bombers and gunships filled the air, flying around Czars experimental flying platforms. Through it all, a single Loyalist ACU carried by a transport flew a little over ground level. Thalia knew that what she was doing was risky and bordering on insanity, but she did not care. She had to save Bagby!

The Loyalist hit the ground running barely a few steps behind Bagby. Her upgraded sensors confirmed that his ACU was barely holding together even as they pierced Hex-Five’s cloaking field further ahead. The smuggler was apparently waiting for them and Thalia screamed in denial as Bagby closed the distance. She could picture it clearly in her mind; Hex-Five’s ACU firing its main laser just as Bagby stepped into range. Even if he didn’t and Bagby somehow managed to kill him instead, the explosion from Hex-Five’s ACU alone would be enough to finish off the old pilot.

All of a sudden, something unexpected happen; Hex-Five ejected all of his upgrade. Thalia sighed in relief and for a moment, she dared to hope that this was the end. Her heart sank as Hex-Five’s ACU suddenly glowed before disappearing altogether. She did not even need to look at her sensors to confirm that someone had used a recall station to save him.

Bagby’s ACU still ran towards the spot and punched the ground in obvious frustration. Thalia stopped a few meters behind him, imagining the scream of rage that her friend must have been making. Part of her felt relieved that he was still alive and yet another felt guilty about it. She opened a channel and spoke as gently as she could: “Bagby, it’s over”

The Cybran ACU ignored her and straightened. It hesitated for a second before twisting to the side and firing its construction laser. Thalia’s heart sank as she saw the outline of the structure appear before her: “He’s building a quantum gate!”

Desjar’s face appeared on her left monitor then: “His ACU’s core is unstable. Best case, he gets thrown off course. Worse case, he leaves this planet in pieces!”

Thalia was familiar with the scenario and knew that nine times out of ten, the outcome was disastrous. She stepped next to the Cybran ACU and pleaded with all her heart: “Bagby, you have to stop!”

The construction laser worked tirelessly despite the protest and Thalia felt her heart beat painfully as the structure came near to completion. Desjar leaned forward on her left monitor and spoke urgently: “Thalia, do something!”

There was no more time for talk and all of Thalia’s helplessness and fear formed a pit in her stomach as she lashed out. The Loyalist ACU sprang forward and punched the Cybran straight in the cockpit even as Thalia screamed a single name: “Bagby!”

The blow knocked Bagby’s damaged ACU straight to the ground and Thalia used the opportunity to jump on top of it. She then hooked one of her arms in one of the Cybran’s damaged spikes and started shaking him back and forth with every word: “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

Tears blurred Thalia’s vision as all the stress and grief of the past day came crashing down on her. Everyone was sad over Dostya’s death, but none of them was meant to deal with it alone. Bagby’s chest plate slid open, revealing the heavy microwave laser. Instead of freezing, Thalia threw herself forward, her ACU wrapping its arm around Bagby: “Please, no more!”

The two of them simply lay there, neither moving despite the war that was still raging around them. Thalia took a shuddering breath before speaking: “We need you, Bagby!”

Tears now ran freely around Thalia’s cheeks as she spoke from the bottom of her heart: “We are your friends… we need you... I need you.”

The Cybran ACU’s chest plate finally closed, hiding the terrible weapon. Next to them, the incomplete frame of the quantum gate collapsed on itself.

-----

“I can’t hold them!” came the frantic cry from one of the Seven Hand Node pilot. Alan looked to his right just as another ACU went critical, the explosion lighting the sky. Hex-Five had fled, Teco was either gone or incapacitated and Alan was one of two pilots left against a well coordinated attack group. Outnumbered and outclassed, it only took him a second to come to term with the situation and eject all of his upgrades: “We surrender!”

“What are you doing?” came the frantic question from the only other remaining pilot.

“Better alive than dead!” shot back Alan between clenched teeth. The Seven Hand Node pilot looked at the approaching forces and spoke again: “Don’t shoot, we surrender!”

The face of a Loyalist pilot, Tamias if Alan recalled correctly, appeared on his screen. The tone of her voice left no room for compromise as she spoke: “Self destruct all of your units immediately; you have fifteen seconds to comply!”

Alan obeyed immediately and shielded his eyes as the units near him self destructed. A quick look to his right confirmed that the other remaining pilot had done the same and he nodded back at the Loyalist: “There, it’s done. Please don’t shoot!”

Instead, Tamias’ eyes only grew harsher: “This is your final warning!”

What was she talking about? Alan looked at his tactical screen and his eyes widened in horror as a group of Brick armored assault bots walked in range of the other Seven Hand Node pilot. Their signature clearly identified which pilot was controlling them: “Teco? What are you doing? We lost!”

The Bricks started firing upon the defenseless Seven Hand Node pilot even as a cloaked Cybran ACU appeared next to Alan. Its chest plate slid open, revealing the heavy microwave laser underneath. Alan panicked and tried to run away even as he screamed: “No! Get away from me!”

Teco did not care and simply fired. Alan’s ACU exploded a few seconds later and the other pilot soon followed. The blast sent Teco’s ACU reeling backward and one of his tactical screens shattered as a result. A piece of shrapnel flew out, cutting a gash along Teco’s right cheek, but he barely even felt it. Tamias’ face appeared on his screen then, her gaze making it clear that she disapproved: “Killing your allies will not ease the accusations against you.”

The veteran Seven Hand Node pilot merely shrugged, not caring in the least: “This isn’t for me.”

He leaned forward without any other explanation and entered the sequence that would self destruct his ACU. The countdown appeared on all of his screens, but Teco’s mind was focused on his long dead son: “Forgive me.”

Chapter 11
Broken

UEF engineers and technicians scrambled in every direction, making the final tune up to the ACU. Chief Leger took the data pad from one of his assistants and double checked the core’s structural integrity before handing it back. He then looked up at the hangar’s main screen which jutted from the ceiling. The latest tactical data was on it, including estimations on how long it would take HQ to narrow down Hex-Five’s location. Once that happened, all hell would break loose.

Brian’s eyes drifted from the hangar’s screen to the UEF pilot who was making final adjustments from his cockpit. Hall sure wasn’t taking things lightly, not if he intended to send Commander Tural on this mission. A hero of the Infinite War, the UEF pilot had been constantly operating on the front line, often with little to no backup. Rumor had it that he had never been forced to abort a mission and Brian remembered Desjar speaking highly of him.

Commander Tural suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked across the hangar to the Loyalist ACU which was not too far away. The Princess’ royal crest adorned its surface, clearly showing that it belonged to her Champion. Its pilot stood in front of it, her movements graceful as she discussed something with one of her analysts. She seemed to sense that someone was watching her and she looked up at Commander Tural, catching his gaze. A silent exchange happened between them, one that Brian could only guess at.

Rumors had it that both had been involved in the final conflict surrounding Black Sun and had been forced to team up with another Cybran against the Avatar-of-War. The Champion had disappeared shortly afterwards, taking the Princess with her to some unknown retreat to recover. How and why, no one knew and Brian suspected that no one ever would. Maybe when this was all over, historians from every faction would take the time to sit down and compare notes.

Still, the mystery surrounding the Loyalist Champion was nothing next to the figure that suddenly appeared down the hall. The Cybran had no name, not officially, and was only referred to as the Tip of the Spear. A sophisticated helmet hid his face, but what was really disturbing was that no one really knew who he was. In an age where information was both a weapon and a priceless commodity, even the most active of Chimera analysts had yet to break that mystery.

Brian had heard a few tales here and there. Sometimes, the Tip of the Spear would show up with a new piece of technology or some critical intelligence. Other stories mentioned how he would suddenly appear on a battlefield and turn the tide single handedly. The only thing that was certain was that he had Doctor Brackman’s full backing which only deepened the mystery.

The Chief Engineer’s train of thought was interrupted when the hangar’s doors opened. A Loyalist ACU stepped inside, its hull covered in soot and dust. Everyone stopped what they were doing and all set of eyes turned to it. A general feeling of both relief and dread filled the hangar as everyone froze in place for they all knew who was aboard. Only four figures dared to move towards the docking ramp; three commandos and a chief medical officer.

The ACU took its place and the cockpit opened shortly afterwards. Thalia hopped out and then reached back to help her wounded passenger. Everyone held their breath as Bagby stepped out. The old pilot had to lean on Thalia for support, a bandage covering what must have been an ugly gash on his right leg. Blood caked the side of his head and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut, a testament to the viciousness of the battle that had just taken place. He also favored one side, almost as if he had a cracked rib.

Bagby stumbled for a moment, but Thalia held on to him and kept him upright, her eyes brimming with concern: “Take it easy …”

Keith, Sjet, Queren and Ell stepped into range then. They looked at the wounded pilot, but Bagby stubbornly refused to look back at them, turning his head to the side instead. Sjet shifted his weight from one foot to the other before stepping towards Thalia: “Here, I’ll take him off your hands.”

“No,” said Thalia immediately, obviously tired, but still unwilling to make a compromise there. She had just gone through hell and back to save Bagby and she would not let go of him until his injuries were treated. Sjet’s mouth opened as if to offer a protest, but Queren placed a hand on his shoulders and merely shook his head, signaling him to remain silent. Ell just nodded and motioned towards a door that would lead them outside the hangar: “We have a medical transport waiting this way.”

Thalia nodded gratefully and they all started walking without another word. The crowd of engineers, technicians, analysts and other maintenance staff parted way as soon as they stepped off the docking ramp and on the main platform. Thalia felt some small measure of relief as she caught a glimpse of the exit, but she suddenly had to halt when Bagby stopped walking.

The old pilot’s gaze scanned the hangar, meeting the curious, worried or concerned eyes of everyone around him. He straightened, ignoring the pain in his chest even as he spoke: “What are you all looking at?”

“Come,” urged Thalia quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Bagby would have none of it however and shouted in a booming voice that startled half of those in the hangar: “Snap out of it!”

Bagby’s gaze turned to the Tip of the Spear, his eyes glowing with what fury was left in him: “I don’t care which one of you does it.”

The Cybran’s head jerked back in surprise, but Bagby ignored him and turned to Commander Tural, his eyes locking on to his: “No one will question how you do it.”

His gaze then settled on the Loyalist Champion, looking at her with the same intensity: “Hell, it doesn’t even matter why you do it.”

The last proclamation drew a painful cough out of Bagby and he nearly doubled over in pain. When he spoke again, it was no longer with the authority of a ruthless pilot, but with the pained voice of a man who had finally admitted to himself that he had lost his daughter: “But you have to make things right again...”

Thalia just held on to Bagby, fearing that he would collapse there and then. She looked up at the other pilots, her eyes brimming with concern. The expressionless helmet of the Tip of the Spear gazed back at her for a second before nodding. The Loyalist’s gaze then turned to Commander Tural and the Princess’ Champion and she saw that they too were nodding back.

They understood. This was more than just another mission. They would track down Hex-Five and whoever got a hold of him first would end it. Only then would Dostya’s death be avenged.

-----

Another set of tormented eyes blinked once to absorb what had just happened. Doctor Brackman had watched the display in the hangar from his laboratory and he had heard Bagby’s words. A part of Brackman had died the day that Dostya had been murdered and his mind had been locked in vicious cycle of grief and despair ever since. When Bagby had left to avenge her, the odds of him surviving had been next to nothing, further adding to the tragedy.

A sliver of hope reappeared in the Doctor’s eyes as he considered the miracle before him. The combined efforts of all of those people had been enough to bring Bagby back, a feat that should have been unthinkable. Brackman’s holographic eyes turned to Dostya’s data chip which rested on his desk and he hesitated. Did he dare to watch it?

The endless cycle of grief and despair loomed at the edge of Doctor Brackman’s consciousness, but he managed to ignore it long enough to command one of the nearby utility arms to take the chip and plug it in. He watched the message and carefully listened to Dostya’s parting words. When the message ended, so too did his doubts.

There would be time to grieve and mourn over those that had been lost. Eventually, after over a thousand years of war, death and destruction, there would even be enough time for him to rest forever… but not yet. Dostya was gone and his vision of a future entrusted to her and to those who would defend humanity’s freedom had been burned… but not destroyed.

Others would be born who would take up the mantle and they would remember what Dostya and so many others stood for. Brackman turned towards his multiple screens and sent a silent command to them, displaying two things: the first was the design of his new Megalith experimental weapon and the second was a computer virus that he had been working on to target QAI.

-----

A sigh of relief escaped Hall as he sank gratefully into the chair of his personal office. He could only afford to take a minute or two to rest, but at least now the worst part was over. Bagby was safe and the reserve pilots, some of the best, were tracking Hex-Five even now. The game had changed from a race against the clock to a simple man hunt. Well, as simple as ACU warfare could get at any rate.

Hall had complete confidence in the pilots that had been dispatched and he knew that one of them would close in on the traitor soon enough. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and found his console blinking when he opened them again. He pressed a button and was surprised when Doctor Brackman’s face appeared on his screen: “Good evening, General,”

“Doctor,” acknowledged Hall quickly with a nod. The latest news that he had received had indicated that Brackman had been profoundly traumatized by the loss of Dostya, but there was no sign of that in his eyes now. The hologram nodded reassuringly before tilting its head to the side: “Could you please give me a status?”

The General nodded and forwarded the latest tactical data: “We just managed to get a partial lock on Hex-Five’s location and our pilots just left to track him down. Brigadier General Fletcher is standing by to assist whoever reaches him first.”

“Very good, oh yes,” said Brackman, his eyes growing unfocused as he contemplated something else. The hologram nodded to himself before looking back to Hall: “Please prepare another gate in the meantime. I will be joining them shortly.”

The request was so unexpected that Hall felt his mouth open wide in shock. Brackman merely shrugged apologetically before his eyes grew serious once more: “I am certain that QAI was the one to assist Hex-Five in his escape. This abomination must be destroyed. I will see to it personally. Oh yes.”

-----

Thalia helped Bagby aboard the transport and gently lowered him in the medical chair. Ell and Keith climbed in right behind her, the Commando looking back to Queren and Sjet: “Get us to the med center.”

Queren nodded back before closing the door and the medical transport’s engines burst to life shortly afterwards. Meanwhile, Ell cut open the right leg of Bagby’s pants and gazed critically at the hastily applied bandage. The bleeding had stopped, but she went to work anyway, cleaning around it in preparation for when they reached the medical center.

Through it all, Thalia never once let go of Bagby’s hand. She clung to it, feeling somehow responsible for all of this. She knew that it was a foolish notion, but she was the one who had stopped Bagby’s rampage. It was her responsibility to make sure that he would be all right.

A thought suddenly occurred to her and she fetched the data chip that the bartender had given her. Both Keith and Ell stopped what they were doing and looked at her with concern as she handed it to Bagby: “The bartender wanted me to give you this. I don’t even know what it contains.”

For a moment, Bagby’s eyes clouded as tears threatened to spill. He blinked them quickly away, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke: “Bring me to her.”

Ell opened her mouth to protest, but Bagby turned to her before she could speak: “Just do what I say, Ell.”

Thalia turned to Ell in confusion and the chief medical officer gave it some thought before nodding and turning back to Keith: “His wounds are not life threatening.”

The statement confused Thalia profoundly. Was Ell suggesting something other than bringing Bagby to the medical center? The Loyalist turned to Keith, expecting him to wave the idea away, but the Commando simply nodded before pressing a button on his wrist computer: “Queren, get us an air transport.”

Had they all lost their mind? Did Bagby have some mystical power of persuasion that he could use on any Cybran? Panic threatened to overwhelm the Thalia as her whole body grew tense: “What? Why? We need to get him to the…”

“Don’t worry,” said Ell reassuringly while putting a hand on Thalia’s shoulder: “He needs this.”

-----

Half an hour later, the air transport released the ground vehicle over a rugged and abandoned patch of land on Minerva. Keith opened the rear door without any explanation and stepped outside followed by Ell. Thalia was still nervous, but she suddenly felt a hand grasp her arm gently.

“Help me,” pleaded Bagby as he struggled to get up. The Loyalists eyes softened as she reached down and helped the old pilot out of the vehicle while making sure that no pressure was applied to his injured leg. She found Ell and the three Commandos waiting outside for them. Keith merely nodded towards a tree roughly twenty meters away and motioned for her to head there. Thalia looked at the Commando wearily, but did as directed and helped Bagby along.

The group of Cybrans remained behind, knowing fully well what awaited Bagby there. Ell remained motionless for a moment before putting a hand on Keith’s arm: “Did you watch your chip?”

Keith nodded, took a hold of Ell’s hand with his right one while putting his left arm around her. Queren brought a hand to his eyes to ward off the tears even as Sjet spoke in a choked voice: “We all did when we heard that Thalia was coming back with Bagby.”

Meanwhile, Thalia kept supporting Bagby as they made their way towards the tree. What were they doing here? What was so important that it could not wait until Bagby had been properly treated? She studied the tree carefully, wondering if there was some significance to it. It was just one of the few plants that had managed to survive in Minerva’s harsh conditions.

Bagby stopped as soon as they reached the tree and motioned for Thalia to help him get to his knees. The Loyalist lowered him gently to the ground, still wondering what this was about, but feeling deep down that she was witnessing something important. Bagby reached for one of the biggest stones which rested at the base of the tree and started dusting it off. A single name was engraved in it: Mather.

The name was unknown to Thalia, but Bagby did not stop there and dusted the surface of three more stones. These held both first and last names and while she had not known them either, she had a good idea who they were since they all had the same family name: Dostya.

Her family, or rather the memory of Dostya’s family, was buried here. Thalia remembered then how any mention of Earth was sometimes enough to bring sadness to some Cybrans’ eyes. Many had still had kin living there when the Seraphim had attacked. The realization caused Thalia’s eyes to widen as she realized the full scope of the tragedy. Dostya’s family was dead; she had been the last.

A choked sob threatened to overwhelm Bagby as he reached for the chip that Thalia had given him. He hesitated a second before unhooking his wrist computer, setting it in front of him and plugging the chip in, downloading its content in the process. A miniature holographic projection of Dostya immediately appeared: “Of everyone that I know, you are the one that worries me the most. I hope that you take the time to view this message before doing anything reckless like taking on the whole galaxy.”

“Too late,” murmured Bagby while rubbing his nose. Dostya smiled back sadly: “If there is one thing that you must remember it is this: you are not alone.”

When Dostya spoke again, her resonating voice was filled with such compassion that Thalia wondered if this was the same cold and methodical woman that she had crossed in the past: “So many people know and depend on you, more so than anyone truly realize. I know I did. You showed us what it meant to be alive in times when most would have given up. Now it is time for us to return the favor.”

“Reach out to them,” insisted Dostya, her eyes bright: “Don’t try to bear this burden alone. Live on, Bagby. Do it for me and for all of us.”

Dostya’s image disappeared as the chip’s activated the second step of the program. Only those closest to Dostya, her new family, had had the file on their chips. A delicate music like the one from a child’s music box came forth as pictures appeared in mid air. The first one was a picture of a much younger Dostya, her hair completely shaved as she was greeted by Ell. The second was of the three Commandos laughing mockingly with Dostya dragging another Cybran pilot by the arm to his ACU. The next one was of Dostya and Bagby, the two of them covered in bruises, but smiling nonetheless in the middle of a devastated bar.

Further back, Keith’s wrist computer beeped as a text message was forwarded from HQ. The hunt had continued in the meantime and although the battle was still raging, one important step had finally been reached: “Hex-Five is dead.”

“Good,” said Ell without any hint of remorse as she leaned against Keith. The Commando just wrapped his arms around her in silence.

Meanwhile, the images kept moving on, displaying Dostya at different times of her life. They revealed sides of her that Thalia had never suspected. They showed how many people had been part of her life or those that she had saved. There were children waving at her, mothers thanking her for saving their families, people offering her food and more. One set of picture even showed her in an elegant - and probably stolen – UEF formal dress at a party. She was dancing with an obviously embarrassed Queren with Bagby making fun of him in the back.

“She looked so happy,” murmured Thalia softly. This was Dostya’s gift, a reminder to those that had been closest to her that her life had not just been filled with war and death. She had lived fully and happily whenever she could. Her life had meant something.

Bagby’s lower lips trembled as he leaned forward and started digging through Minerva’s harsh soil with his bare hands. He only dug a small hole, but even that was enough to add some scratches and cuts. The display of images finally ended and Dostya reappeared for a moment, offering her final farewell: “Live on, Bagby.”

The projection faded out, leaving both Cybran and Loyalist pilot alone once more. Bagby unhooked the chip from his wrist computer and carefully set it in the hole. He then shoved the earth back on it. He stood motionless for a few seconds before his shoulders started bobbing up and down uncontrollably: “I can’t.”

Tears finally overwhelmed Bagby as he let go of all the pent up anger and grief that had been bottled up inside him since his daughter’s death. When he spoke again, his voice was overwhelmed with emotion: “I just can’t…”

Thalia kneeled down next to Bagby and placed a hand on his shoulder as a weak and tormented wail escaped him amongst choked sobs.

-----

Three attendants rushed to their stations as the Cybran ACU stepped into the private hangar. The custom paint job alone, one which mixed red and black in a blood-like pattern, made it clear who the pilot was and what the consequences would be if even a single thing was out of place. The attendants waited on the docking ramp as the ACU took its place and did not even blink as the cockpit opened.

Redfog stepped out while casually brushing his blood covered cybernetic hands together. The one disadvantage of trying to rattle someone by carrying a severed head was that it left a sizable mess in the cockpit afterwards. The leader of the Assumpta Node did not even bother to look at his attendants as he issued a single order: “Clean it up.”

The three Cybrans immediately bowed their heads and went to work. Meanwhile, one of the Assumpta Node’s analysts appeared at the other end of the docking ramp and waited obediently. Redfog walked forward, but did not offer so much as a greeting as he passed him. The analyst dutifully fell in line with his hands folded in front of him: “We have just received word concerning the fate of the Seven Hand Node. Its entire command structure has just been wiped out.”

That piece of news was hardly a surprise since Redfog had personally seen to it that their recall station was destroyed. The only thing that was unusual in this case was that the analyst was still following him. This meant that he had something more to add and his hesitation spoke volumes in the matter. The analyst waited a few more seconds before speaking again: “Hex-Five is dead, but not by Bagby’s hands. He violated the right of Stolvekan.”

The accusation was unheard of, one that the analyst must not have made lightly. To ask for the right of Stolvekan was to abandon one’s self to utter fury. To stop the hunt before the target was dead was to openly admit that the desire had not been sincere and that Redfog had been tricked out of an ACU. That alone was enough to justify practically anything, including an assassination against the offender.

“You’re wrong,” said Redfog flatly, the tone of his voice leaving no room for debate. Redfog stopped walking briefly to look at the analyst to better impart the gravity of what he was about to say: “Bagby died the same day that Dostya did.”

For a split second, the analyst’s mouth twitched as if he was about to speak, but he wisely held back. The only thing worse than any crime in the Assumpta Node was to openly question Redfog. The analyst therefore bowed his head which was the only thing that he could do if he intended to keep it on his shoulders. Redfog’s piercing gaze remained on the Cybran for a second longer before he left, confident that his will would be made law.

The one advantage of holding the title of Redfog was that one did not have to explain himself to anyone. He did not have to justify why he had involved himself in a personal vendetta or why he would spare Bagby’s life even now. No, that was not entirely true. There was one person that deserved an explanation: himself.

There had been no reason for him to get involved, no debt to settle and initially, no apparent military gains in sight either. So why had he even bothered? Dostya had been an ally, but that in itself was not enough of a justification. People died all the time in wars. That left only one possibility; he had cared. Redfog had therefore reacted the same way as he always did whenever someone took something that mattered to him: with a vengeance.

Was death and destruction something that Dostya had ever wanted? No, but she would have understood, of that he was certain. Redfog reached his quarters just then and he gazed at the box which held Dostya’s chip. For one of the rare times in his life, Redfog hesitated, but he growled it away.

There was only one way for him to find out if he had cared and that was to listen to her message. The leader of the Assumpta Node removed his mask, his scarred and burned lungs struggling to draw in every breath as he took a hold of the data chip. He plugged it in the nearby console and listened attentively, promising himself that he would only be worthy to put his mask back on once the task was complete.

Chapter 12
The Earth Shall Tremble

“You’re an idiot!” exclaimed the Cybran deck master while whirling on his assistant. He jabbed a finger repeatedly, angry at the size of the blunder: “We move the entire node one final time before what could be humanity’s last grand stand and you forget about that SCU!”

“It’s in the right spot,” argued the assistant while crossing his arm. Unlike others, his job was not to anticipate people’s needs, but only to make sure that they had everything that they could ever want at their disposal. This included making sure that every pilot’s war machine was at the right place at the right time.

“It’s Bagby’s SCU!” cried the deck master desperately while raising both arms up: “Having it in the middle of the hangar is just one huge reminder that he won’t be there!”

The assistant just shrugged back, apparently unconcerned. He had heard - like everyone else in the node - that Bagby had returned and was being treated in the med center. Still, no one had forwarded a request to store his SCU elsewhere in the meantime: “What makes you so sure that that he won’t be there regardless? He’s pulled off some crazier stunts before.”

“Wake up, you moron!” shouted the deck master back, no longer in the mood for pleasantries: “He’s seriously injured and his daughter is dead. It would take a miracle to get him out of bed now, if ever!”

The sound of delicate footsteps caught both Cybrans’ attention and they turned towards the source. Thalia had just appeared down the hall, no doubt on her way to her ACU. She had heard every word and while she tried not to let it affect her, the truth was that barely a day had passed and the memories were simply too fresh. The Loyalist walked between both Cybrans, offering a weak nod of encouragement as she did so. The deck master’s assistant waited until she was gone before slapping the other Cybran on the shoulder: “Now who’s the idiot?”

Meanwhile, Thalia kept walking down the hallway that would lead her to the hangar, her eyes on the path ahead, but her mind elsewhere. She had just returned from the medical center and what she had seen had nearly stolen the last of her courage. Bagby was injured, but his wounds were not life threatening and Ell had assured her that he would make a full recovery. Even so, his heart and soul had been broken beyond repair.

Bagby, a man who had once been so full of life, merely sat in his room in silence with his back turned to the world. The image was just too heartbreaking for anyone who had known him.

Thalia blinked a few times as she stepped into the brightly illuminated hangar. People were running left and right, making last minute preparations before the final conflict. The Loyalist spotted her ACU easily enough, but paused as she glanced at Bagby’s SCU. It stood in the middle of the hangar just as the deck master had said, it’s hardened armor gleaming with the Red Skull flag, Bagby’s trademark symbol, resting proudly besides it.

Those that moved in the area gave the war machine a wide berth, almost as if they did not want to disturb it. The Loyalist tore her gaze from the SCU and let it wander around the hangar. A lot of fresh faces were moving around, pilots who had been drafted from the civilian ranks and trained in the last two years. This time, the Alliance would throw everything it had, even if that meant using pilots who had not fully completed their training.

Some of those faces, Thalia thought, were far too young. Many would be lucky if they survived their first hour, never mind the entire battle. They looked around, trying to appear confident despite the odds. Bagby would have found a way to inspire them.

Thalia shook her head, reminding herself that the deadline was fast approaching. She made her way to her ACU, exchanged nods with another Loyalist pilot along the way and then stepped into her cockpit. She launched her startup routine just as Desjar appeared on her screen. A quick look at her console confirmed that he was broadcasting to all pilots: “This is it. No more running.”

The UEF pilot appeared calm and resolute; a fitting image for a leader. No trace of the recent drama was reflected in his eyes, only confidence. Maybe he was stronger, Thalia thought, or maybe it was simply that he had not been as closely involved as she had been: “QAI has been destroyed, the Order is falling apart and the Seraphim have been forced to retreat back to the core worlds. Even so, time is against us.”

A miniature map of the galaxy appeared next to Desjar as he spoke: “The Seraphim are assembling a Quantum Arch back on Earth which will allow them to summon additional reinforcements. If they succeed then everything that we have accomplished up until now will be for nothing. Today, humanity embarks on one of its greatest offensives since the end of the Infinite War.”

Multiple lines sprung on the mini map, displaying the general attack routes that each team would take: “Our mission is to attack the core worlds and force the Seraphim and their remaining allies to hold their ground. Meanwhile, a group of elite pilots will be dispatched to Earth using QAI’s gate codes to destroy the Quantum Arch. The success of their mission depends entirely on us.”

“This is the end; the last stretch to the finish line,” said Desjar slowly, his voice rising: “Everything that we have endured, every tear, drop of blood and sacrifices have been made to give us this one chance. We will not allow all of it to have been made in vain.”

The UEF Commander paused so that his words would have greater effect. When he spoke again, his voice like a rallying cry: “Alliance forces, move out!”

The transmission ended and Thalia nodded in mixed approval. No doubt the speech would galvanize many UEF pilots and quite a few Cybrans as well, but it was hard for her to share in it. Not everyone had experienced the war in quite the same way and for her; it had taken a far more personal turn in the past few days. Others must have felt lost just as she was but still, what could she do?

Thalia’s eyes suddenly drifted back to her screen and she angled her sensors to take a look at Bagby’s SCU. What would he have done? Thalia suddenly pressed a few buttons on her console and sent her ACU into motion.

Back on the hangar’s deck, a few people yelped in surprise as the Loyalist war machine took an unexpected course. Chief Leger watched in puzzlement as the ACU reached to the side and picked up Bagby’s flag before walking towards the exit: “Where is she going with that?”

-----

“Nice speech, sir,” said Weisman approvingly as the two of them stood overlooking the node from a nearby hill. Dozens of ACUs were even now pouring out of the hangar and preparing to head to their quantum gates. Desjar nodded back, allowing a sliver of doubt to creep into his voice as he spoke to his second in command: “I just hope it was enough to reach them all.”

The two of them suddenly stopped talking and turned towards a most peculiar sight. A Loyalist ACU came running out of the hangar while waving a flag. Desjar zoomed in on the scene and his eyes widened when he recognized the emblem of the Red Skull Node: “What is she doing?”

That was the exact question that was coursing through Thalia’s mind as she climbed up another hill. Did she honestly think that she could replace Bagby? No, the notion itself was ludicrous. Even so, she knew that she had to find a way to reach them all much like he would have. But how could she do it?

The Loyalist ACU climbed up the hill unerringly as the question twirled time and again through Thalia’s mind. What could she possibly say that would reach them all? Each of those pilots were different: Loyalist, former Exile, defected Order pilot, Chimera, Assumpta, Jade Node, Earth born, UEF colonist, new recruits and more…

If their origins were different then their reasons for being here were even more so: honor, glory, revenge, justice, duty, passion, courage, blood lust, patriotism… Thalia finally realized the obvious even as she reached the top of the hill: there was nothing that she could say that would reach them all.

Most importantly, how could anyone here see the war like she did? How could any of them imagine what it was like to have their people turn on them, to be thrust into strange new worlds and even stranger allies? Did they have to overcome centuries of rigid thinking to even accept UEF and Cybrans ways of thought? Could they even share her pain; that of watching a father and trusted friend fall apart at the loss of his daughter?

The feeling of helplessness formed a pit in the bottom of Thalia’s stomach as she turned around and saw the dozens of ACUs looking back at her expectantly. No, she was not Bagby. She was just a Loyalist pilot, a young woman who did not know what to say to make things right again. Thalia’s helplessness transformed into a ball of rage and for a moment, she let go of her self control and punched the side of her cockpit.

Pain coursed up Thalia’s arm, something that reminded her that she was still alive. More importantly, it reminded her of what they all shared and she suddenly knew what she had to do. The Loyalist ACU moved, raising the Red Skull flag as well as its right leg before slamming both down in a loud thump. Dozens of pilots watched as the Loyalist ACU began thumping its foot in slow but rhythmic pattern.

Desjar was still wondering what that was about when he noticed two Cybran ACUs as they began to thump the ground in the same beat. Maybe they were doing it because of the Red Skull flag, but in truth it did not matter. The UEF Commander pressed a few buttons to code the routine and then waited for the next thump before activating it. His ACU then joined in, each footsteps shaking the ground. Weisman and the rest of his squad soon followed.

Thalia watched as one pilot after another joined in, adding their own weight to the cause. The thumping from dozens of ACUs sent tremors through the ground that could be felt all the way into the hangar. One engineer looked around in alarm as his tools started vibrating on the table: “What the hell is going on?”

Chief Leger looked around the hangar and was startled when a plasma tuner suddenly fell from the table. He bent down to pick it up, but did not return it to its spot. Instead, he walked closer to the handrail and used it to strike the metallic surface with the same beat.

A few other engineers and technicians looked at him in surprise, but then one of them picked up his own tool and joined in. A moment later, almost everyone in the hangar had picked up an item and was rhythmically pounding on the nearest surface.

The sound quickly spread through the entire node; civilian and military personnel alike stopping what they were doing to rally to the cause. On a nearby rooftop overlooking the ACUs, Melissa, Foil and the rest of the children also pitched in, pounding the floor with their feet.

The noise reached all the way into the command center where even the most disciplined of analyst began to tap their foot to the beat. General Hall watched it with renewed hope surging through him. This time, humanity had had enough and it would stand together no matter the odds.

Hall leaned forward over his console, allowing the energy of the moment to fill him before speaking: “Mister Slate?”

“Yes, General?” answered the Chimera analyst, one of the few who was still more interested in the status of the quantum network than of what was happening around him. Hall smiled as he issued his next command: “Transmit it to the rest of the Alliance.”

-----

The pair of alien eyes blinked once, taking everything that was happening on Rigel into consideration at the same time. Ethanavoawh saw the other Seraphim commanders guarding key sites all across the planet. He also took note of what was left of QAI’s drones. Fortunately for them, QAI’s sudden demise had not caused the ACUs to self destruct. Unfortunately, without the artificial intelligence to guide their collective efforts, the best that they could do was to act upon their final orders. They would hold their ground like elaborate and well designed point defense turrets, but nothing more.

Ethanavoawh’s gaze drifted to the few Order pilots that were moving amongst their midst with most of them taking point positions. The Seraphim Commander could read hesitation in their every move. By now, most either had doubts about the Seraphim’s motives while others had conflicting loyalties between Kael and Princess Burke.

As strange as the thought was, Ethanavoawh did not blame them. The truth was that the most Seraphim either viewed the Order as a sacrificial pawn or as a well trained attack pet. When the war was over, however, then there would be no need for such a vicious animal and the Order would be exterminated along with the rest of the human race. There simply was no other way, not if there was ever to be any form of lasting peace.

The Seraphim frowned and not for the first time as he considered the wrongness of it all. The human faction had been tricked, blinded by its leader’s own ambition and thirst for power. QAI was the one which had lied to them, changing Seth-Iavow’s words to appeal to their base instincts. A lie through a proxy, however, was still a lie. That was one of the reasons that Ethanavoawh did not want to talk to them now, even with QAI’s translating program at his fingertips. He did not want to answer any of their questions.

A distant green flash suddenly caught Ethanavoawh’s attention and he zoomed his tactical screen on the Order base just as it self destructed. There had been no sign of weapons fire or ACU explosion which left only one possibility: the pilot had just fled.

One Seraphim pilot stormed towards his quantum gate, fully intent on tracking and killing the traitor, but Ethanavoawh immediately stopped him: “Let her leave.”

This was not the time for petty human-like vendettas. The Quantum Arch would soon be completed and when that happened, the war would tip back in their favor. The only hope that humanity had was to destroy the Arch before it was completed and that meant that they would attack any moment now.

The Seraphim’s train of thought was interrupted when a broadband galactic transmission suddenly reached him. Its low complexity clearly marked it as an audio signal, but the fact that Ethanavoawh received it at all reminded him of another downside of QAI’s destruction. Without the artificial intelligence monitoring the quantum network, the Seraphim no longer controlled the vast amount of information that circulated through it nor could they track their enemies as easily.

Ethanavoawh pressed a button to access the audio feed and frowned. There were no voices; only constant rumbling sounds like an approaching storm. The Seraphim grew puzzled and quickly set up an audio filter. There were multiple sources, but he managed to isolate one and his eyes widened when he realized that it was the footsteps of an ACU.

The Seraphim removed the filter and realized that the rumbling was caused by the combined sounds of hundreds of ACUs from every faction preparing for war. Ethanavoawh pressed a button and opened a channel to all Seraphim Commanders on Rigel: “Stand fast, the humans are on their way.”

An explosion in the distance forced Ethanavoawh to reevaluate his position: they were already here.

-----

A grim smile appeared on Desjar’s face as he considered how easy it had been to slip on Rigel undetected. The Seraphim sure had become complacent with QAI watching their back. Now, however, the game had changed and he opened a channel to all Alliance pilots in the area: “Attack!”

Four Loyalist Tempest battleships immediately sprung into action, surging from the water’s depths and firing their Oblivion Cannons. The salvo overloaded and destroyed one of QAI’s drone’s shields, spurring an immediate reaction. Three Soul Rippers and their air support took off and headed straight for the Tempests, intent on driving them back under the sea prior to sending their torpedo bombers to finish them off.

Weisman appeared on Desjar’s screen and nodded: “A textbook attack…”

“Means a textbook reaction,” finished Desjar while using the same tone. The Alliance sea armada waited only a kilometer away, its signature hidden by multiple Cybran counter-intelligence boats. Hundreds of air superiority fighters took off from aircraft carriers of every kind and headed straight for the Tempests.

The experimental Loyalist battleships dove underwater just as both armies reached them, ducking out of the conflict. QAI’s drone, suddenly realizing that the odds were against it, tried to pull back its valuable Soul Rippers, but it was too late. With five to one odds, the Alliance’s air force made short work of them. Barely thirty seconds later, the Tempests resurfaced and resumed firing against the drone’s base.

“The advantage is ours,” muttered Desjar before opening another channel: “All right, people, time to increase the pressure.”

“Understood,” said Tamias. The Loyalist Commander sent her Torrent class missile ships forward, escorted by Weisman’s shield boats and Valerie’s counter-intelligence ships. Soon the air was literally raining with missiles, more than any tactical missile defense could hope to counter.

Desjar watched with satisfaction as one Cybran structure after another disappeared from his tactical screen under the onslaught. Only when most of the structures on the beachhead were destroyed did he issue his next order: “Tortoise formation. Begin the land assault!”

The land army which had been waiting under the armada immediately went into action. Two UEF Fatboys moved at the center of the formation, surrounded by two Cybran Monkeylords, a Loyalist Galactic Colossus and a dozen UEF Percivals. Meanwhile, the Loyalist Tempest moved to escort them, supported by additional UEF Atlantis submarines. Lastly, two Cybran Megaliths covered the rear, their nanite torpedo launchers at the ready. A group of Seraphim submarines hunters, one of the most feared units in the sea, tried to intercept them, but the combined anti-naval power of the attack force overwhelmed them in no time.

The telltale red beam from a Cybran heavy microwave laser destroyed one Percival as it appeared on the beach, but that would be the only kill that QAI’s drone would get. No sooner had the armored assault bot been destroyed that the Loyalist Galactic Colossus stepped into range, its omni sensor piercing the Cybran ACU’s cloak upgrade.

The behemoth’s giant eye broke the water’s surface and it focused its Phason laser on the enemy. The combined firepower from the other experimental units as they too stepped out of the water soon proved too much for the drone and it exploded in a bright nuclear explosion. The base self destructed soon afterwards, paving the way for the rest of the invasion.

Stealth Cybran spy planes flew above the destroyed base and scouted ahead. Valerie appeared on Desjar’s screen a moment later: “Incoming Seraphim land forces ahead.”

Just as planned, thought Desjar as he repositioned his Fatboys near the Megaliths. The experimental units formed a line near the coast, but busied themselves by manufacturing mechanical engineers in the meantime. Back in the water, the Tempests also manufactured engineers and the combined work force immediately went to work, reclaiming the drone’s destroyed structures, building an omni sensor and then adding shield generators.

By the time that the Seraphim forces moved into range, the Alliance’s foothold was completed and the Fatboys opened fire with added support from the Tempests. The Megaliths also joined in as soon as the enemy stepped into range, adding their firepower to the storm. Meanwhile, the Percivals waited in defensive positions even as the Monkeylords and Galactic Colossus moved to intercept.

The four Seraphim experimental assault bots and their escort were already severely damaged by the time that they walked into range, but they were still standing. Both Monkeylords moved into flanking positions even as the Galactic Colossus charged forward. Heavy microwave lasers met gatling plasma cannon shots even as the Monkeylords circled around their prey, forcing them to stop.

Meanwhile, the Galactic Colossus, still supported by the Fatboys and Megaliths, charged on. Its Phason laser focused on the legs of one enemy experimental unit, melting its servo motors. A lucky shot from a Megalith rupture a leg joint and the Seraphim assault bot went crashing to the ground.

The Galactic Colossus marched on, its heavy steps bringing it closer to its target even as its Phason laser kept digging into its opponent’s armor. It finally stepped into range just as the Seraphim tried to get up and slammed its foot down, crushing the enemy’s head underneath it. The explosion sent pieces flying in every direction, but the Galactic Colossus ignored it and kept walking forward. A wild surge of energy appeared in mid air a few seconds later, but the Galactic Colossus was already out of reach by then.

Of the four Seraphim units, only one managed to get through the defenders. One of the main weaknesses of the experimental assault bot was that it lacked the firing arc to shoot at other targets of opportunity while moving forward. It therefore kept walking, intent on destroying at least one Fatboy instead of uselessly pounding at the Galactic Colossus.

It fired all of its weapon systems as soon as it stepped into range, its hull already smoking from the high amount of damage that it had suffered. The attack met newly assembled Loyalist shields, however, and did not damage the units underneath. The Percivals fired back, their ionized plasma cannons further adding to the beating. A few seconds later, the Seraphim unit also fell to the ground, its mission a failure.

The short confrontation had barely lasted a moment, but the plan had proceeded as expected and the first wave had been defeated. Desjar was about to issue another order just as a warning flashed on his screen followed by an audio message: “Strategic launch detected.”

That eventuality had been planned as well and he set a new waypoint to his units even as he spoke: “Estimated landing in one minute. Reclaim and evade.”

The land army automatically regrouped back into formation and moved towards their next target. A few engineers stayed behind, reclaiming as many structures as possible before the nuclear missile landed. Flinn appeared on Desjar’s screen then and scratched the back of his head: “Something tells me that we’ll really hate that audio warning by the end of the day.”

No one argued the point. The Seraphim had one of their missile launchers into play which could fire once every minute. Unfortunately for them, the missile was slow and it would do little good as long as the Alliance stayed mobile. When it landed on the drone’s base, it barely destroyed two engineers which had been left behind even as the rest of the land army kept moving forward.

This would be a though day and despite their initial victory, the odds of catching either an Order or a Seraphim commander with their pants down would be slim. Still, their mission was only to keep the Seraphim’s attention on them while the team that was dispatched to Earth destroyed the Quantum Arch. These guys had better appreciate all the hassle that the rest of the Alliance were going through to give them a shot.

The time for daydreams was over and Desjar issued a new batch of orders: “Tamias, Valerie and Weisman, lead the sea front north. We’ll meet at the Order base eight kilometers away. Kazuo and Flinn, try to establish a stealth base where the nuke just fell. I want Deceivers and field engineers moving everywhere on the field while alternating their jamming and stealth fields. Keep them guessing until they launch their experimental bombers and Czars. Thalia, you’re with me.”

-----

Ethanavoawh looked away as one more QAI drone exploded, lighting the sky with a fierce tone of red. What was happening? Why weren’t they able to stop the Alliance? No matter what they tried, the Alliance’s forces kept moving forward, forcing the Seraphim and their allies back. Reports were coming in from other planets where the Seraphim had managed to score a few kills, but even they were hard pressed to hold their ground. The answer was, and Ethanavoawh regretted to admit it, plainly obvious: the human factions were united while the Seraphim were not.

UEF, Cybran and Loyalist forces worked in unison, combining their respective strengths to fight on a superior level. Meanwhile, QAI’s remaining drones worked without any external guidance while the Order forces struggled to follow the Seraphim’s lead. The fact that there was no communication between Seraphim and the Order was clearly not helping either.

Ethanavoawh was about to break his own principles and open a channel to the Order commander to better coordinate their efforts when another Seraphim appeared on his screen: “The Quantum Arch has been destroyed. Earth is being overrun!”

“Impossible,” mouthed Ethanavoawh quietly. Seth-Iavow had been personally leading Earth’s defense. Had their war leader perished? Hopefully not, but even if he was still alive then he most likely had the Alliance right on his tail and would not be able to take charge of things without revealing his position. It therefore fell to Ethanavoawh to make the final call.

The only course of action left was easy to deduce, but hard to accept. Ethanavoawh opened a channel to both Seraphim and Order forces and shook his head quickly: “All forces fall back. We have lost.”

-----

Thirty minutes later, the conflict on Earth was over. A group of ACUs guarded the
Island of Niihau, their heavy frames appearing insignificant next to the magnitude of the Quantum Rift. Desjar, Rhiza and Flinn were amongst them. Those that had led the raid on Earth and the rest of Desjar’s squad had split into mixed groups to hunt their enemies in the meantime.

An odd feeling of déjà vu filled Desjar as he looked around the decimated island. Over two years ago, he had left Earth a shaken and broken man. His entire world had been turned upside down and now here he was, whole once more. Life had an odd way of doing things like that.

Desjar’s musing was interrupted when an entry capsule suddenly appeared before them. Princess Burke stepped out a moment later and looked around the battlefield. Desjar zoomed in on her and noticed the sorrow in her eyes as she looked at a particular spot. He angled his view screen to follow her gaze and soon understood why. That was the place where Zachary Arnold had died.

The realization forced Desjar to pause as he analyzed his own feelings. Hopefully soon, there would be time to make a grave for him and for all the others that had died here. Desjar twisted his camera back to the Princess and was surprised to find her looking straight back at him. It was almost as if she could see in his very soul, even from that distance.

The UEF pilot had not had the time to meet her in person, not since her recent awakening. A part of him would have liked to ask her about Arnold’s final days, but deep down, he knew that Arnold had cared for her and that she had returned those feelings. That would have to be enough for now.

Rhianne nodded with a gentle smile, almost as if she could read Desjar’s thoughts and then started walking towards the Quantum Rift with her hands extended to her side. Desjar rubbed his neck if for not other reason than to come to grips with the situation and then turned to Rhiza: “We got you covered, you can go assist her.”

“I do not think my help is required,” said Rhiza tiredly. The Loyalist pilot took a deep breath and then nodded: “The Princess said that she would be the one to close the Rift.”

“Without an ACU?” asked Flinn unbelievingly. He was about to add more, but all three pilots fell silent as the Princess’ hands started glowing. She stopped and then raised them to the sky, her hood falling in the process and her hair flowing around her face. She did not speak, but merely held the pose for a few seconds. Her body then flashed briefly before transforming into a ball of energy which flew straight into the Rift.

Hundreds of questions flashed through Desjar’s mind, but all of those faded as a blinding light suddenly filled everything. It was not like an explosion which could be avoided by closing one’s eyes or filtered through the ACU’s view screen, merely a light that seemed to exist everywhere at once.

The phenomenon ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving the scene oddly peaceful once more. When Desjar dared to open his eyes, the Quantum Rift was gone. The UEF pilot hesitated a second before opening a channel: “HQ, this is Commander Desjar. The Rift has been sealed… its over.”

Epilogue
Rebirth

A year later…

The newscast circulated through the quantum network for all to see. It aired unedited everywhere from Earth to Minerva and even Seraphim Two. Citizens of every faction waited in silence as Hall took the stand. The President, still wearing his military uniform, allowed the murmurs to die down before speaking: “Today marks the first anniversary of our victory over the Seraphim.”

A cheer rang through the crowd and the camera’s angle switched to get a better view of it. Most were UEF, but a few pockets of Cybran and Illuminate citizens were there as well; workers which had been dispatched to help with the recovery efforts. Earth’s information network and ecology had been devastated by the Seraphim’s original attack, but like all things, it could be restored.

The camera turned back to Hall as he spoke: “I would like to commemorate this day with this monument to those who have fallen.”

A nod from the President was all it took for two nearby workers to pull the drape off the large oval structure. The device instantly activated, projecting the image of General Clarke into the air with remarkable clarity. The picture gradually faded and was replaced by that of Princess Burke even as Hall kept speaking: “This holographic projector will randomly shift images, exposing our lost heroes regardless of their origin. Those who wish to know more can freely access the terminals at the bottom.”

The image shifted just as Hall finished his sentence, exposing the image of Ivanna Dostya. The President paused for a moment, a trace of grief appearing in his features. When he spoke again, his tone was firm yet gentle: “I have known, fought and worked alongside many of them. Nothing that we will do will ever bring them back… but we can honor their memories.”

Not a sound could be heard as Hall gazed across the crowd: “Know that each of these men and women had a dream. They dreamed of freedom, harmony, unity and peace. That is their legacy.”

The President then straightened, his demeanor making it apparent that he believed in what he was saying: “Honor that dream by doing everything in your power to keep it alive.”

At the other end of the galaxy, on the red planet called Minerva, Bagby pressed a button and shut down the newscast. Dreams were for people who still had something to look forward to. Otherwise, they were just empty words and images. The old pilot ran a hand through his unkempt beard and gazed once more at the floor of his quarters. He would live on… but he did not know why anymore.

The door to Bagby’s quarters opened then and the old pilot sighed. Was it Thalia or maybe Ell checking up on him again? They would do that every few days, relaying each other, it seemed. The sound of heavy footsteps warned Bagby that such was not the case and he turned his head around to take a look at his guest. He was momentarily surprised to see the helmet of the Tip of the Spear nod back at him: “Come, there’s something that you need to see.”

Would he get involved in it too? It was bad enough to have people that he knew pay him visits out of pity. He did not need to have strangers come in as well: “I’m not interested.”

The mysterious pilot did not back down and instead took a step forward before putting a hand on Bagby’s shoulder: “You will be.”

-----

It took a two hour drive to reach their destination and Bagby spent it gazing out the window in utter silence. At least the mysterious pilot next to him respected that and did not try to engage him in pointless conversation. Still, he could have put a little effort into things. The six wheels Groundhog that they were in could easily navigate at a cruising speed of three hundred kilometers per hour on the roughest of terrain, but he was barely pushing it to two hundred.

When the laboratory finally loomed in sight, Bagby immediately thought that the Tip of the Spear was definitely taking up after his old man, building research facilities in the middle of nowhere. Automated security systems scanned them before opening the doors. Only when they closed did the Tip of the Spear do something that Bagby had not expected.

The pilot reached up, undid the claps on his neck and then removed his helmet. He had the same general facial structure as his father, but the similarities ended there. There was no mustache, no balding spots and the years of piloting and intense physical training had sculpted his features. There was also a small scar along his right eyebrow, most likely the result of an ACU battle.

Bagby took it all in and then shrugged. He had guessed that the Tip of the Spear had been Doctor Brackman’s clone years ago, but of course the fact that he had been the first one to say it out loud had ensure that no one would believe it. A year ago, the irony might have been amusing, but now he was no longer in a laughing mood: “So, are you going to tell me what this is about?”

The Tip of the Spear just motioned for Bagby to follow as he stepped out of the car and the old pilot had no other alternative but to follow. They walked through a maze of corridors before stepping into a comfortable chamber. There was not much in the room aside from a cradle in its center. The two of them walked softly towards it and Bagby leaned forward to take a look inside before shrugging: “So it’s a baby. Why would I even care about…”

Bagby’s gruff voice woke the baby up who immediately looked up at him. Those set of eyes caused the old pilot to suck in his breath. The Tip of the Spear turned to him and smiled, but Bagby just stared back at the other pilot and grimaced: “You idiot!”

How could he insult Dostya’s memory like that? Did he really believe that a clone could ever replace her? Bagby jabbed a finger against the Tip of the Spear’s chest with every word: “You… stupid… idiotic…”

Bagby’s anger was further compounded by the fact that he could not think of the right kind of insult. It had been over a year since he had seriously tried to mess with someone and he was getting rusty. He finally just spat the only thing that he could think of: “Bucket head!”

A joyous giggle halted what was to come and both pilots looked down in surprise at the baby. Confused, Bagby just raised an eyebrow and repeated the insult: “Bucket head?”

The baby giggled again while shaking her feet. The Tip of the Spear just looked down in confusion while a mischievous smile slowly crept up Bagby’s face: “Fishbowl face.”

The giggle grew in intensity and Bagby gestured wildly towards the other pilot, a new wave of inspiration helping him find the perfect insult: “Overgrown daddy’s boy!”

This time, the giggle transformed into a laugh and the baby clapped her hand excitedly. Bagby smiled back as he leaned over the cradle and tickled her belly: “Yeah, I knew you’d agree with me there!”

A thought suddenly occurred to Bagby as he looked down at his unkempt beard. Always one to improvise, the old pilot leaned further in the crib and started tickling the baby with it. The room exploded with laughter from the two of them. A moment later, the baby fought back by taking a hold of Bagby’s beard and giving it a sharp yank.

“Ow!” cried Bagby in mocked pain while moving a bit out of range. He brushed his beard back into place with a smile on his face: “Yeah, I guess you’re right; I should probably trim it down.”

“Bagby?” asked the Tip of the Spear cautiously, puzzled as to where this could be heading. The old pilot looked back at him and shook his head disapprovingly: “Hey, do you mind? We’re having a serious conversation here!”

Bagby kept playing with her, making every sort of noise and face imaginable. A few minutes later, the baby just played with Bagby’s hand, apparently marveling as she tried to move it around. The old pilot kept looking at her, but his words were meant for the Tip of the Spear: “You have a family waiting for her?”

“A loving mother and father that want to adopt,” said the other pilot with a nod. Bagby caressed the baby’s face and smiled: “A little brother?”

“A big brother, in this case,” said the mysterious Cybran. Brackman’s boy had probably investigated the family thoroughly to ensure that the parents were fit for the task. Bagby nodded, satisfied with the answers: “What’s her name?”

A smile crept up the Tip of the Spear’s face as he spoke: “Ivanna.”

A mocking chuckle escaped Bagby as he turned back to his host: “Still hiding in plain sight, eh?”

“It remains the best way,” assured the Tip of the Spear with a helpless shrug. Bagby reached forward and clapped him on the shoulder: “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be a genius, you’re not very original.”

Bagby winked, making it clear that he was no longer angry and started walking towards the exit. The Tip of the Spear looked to the baby and then back to the old pilot: “Where are you going?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” asked Bagby while waving around as though he was exasperated: “I have to shave! Then I have a few other things to do. I have to get in shape if I still want to be there when she’s old enough to appreciate my sense of humor.”

Bagby left the room and walked into the corridor, but then leaned back in the doorway: “You don’t mind if I borrow your wheels, do you?”

-----

An hour later, Slate walked down the street of Node Fifty-Six, his right hand wriggling in the air as he accessed his wrist computer. Things sure had changed in just one short year, mandatory breaks being one of them. Not that long ago, people were being forced to work double or triple shifts in a row just to stay ahead of the Seraphim. Now, they actually complained about unsavory smells to whoever was in charge whenever he demonstrated such dedication. There were times, he thought, when he truly missed being hunted down.

“Hey Slate!” came the cry from behind. The Cybran analyst stopped dead in his track and groaned, the voice from the past reminding him that not everything had been golden back in those days: “Oh great…”

The Cybran turned around, his unblinking eyes coming to rest upon an unusually cheerful and beard trimmed Bagby: “What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, I like that!” said Bagby with a wide grin. Slate merely raised an eyebrow, making it clear that he did not believe him for a second. The old pilot cleared his voice while shifting his weight from one foot to the other: “Well, I sort of remembered recently that I never really apologized for knocking you out a year ago.”

“You didn’t apologize for a lot of things,” retorted Slate sarcastically: “Two hundred and seventeen to be precise.”

The large number surprised Bagby, but he shrugged it away as if it did not matter: “Anyway, the important thing is that I’m sorry, but there’s something else that you should know.”

The old pilot’s eyes grew soft for a moment, almost as if he was remembering a meaningful moment in his life: “A very long time ago, I met this Chimera girl at a party. I was a little drunk so I thought that the fact that she was staring at me meant something.”

“You can stop there,” said Slate while lifting a hand. Bagby ignored him and kept speaking, his voice rising with heartfelt emotions: “One thing led to another…”

“Seriously, you can stop,” insisted Slate desperately. The old pilot merely smiled back, his eyes shining with love and acceptance: “Slate, you’re my son.”

A sigh escaped the Cybran Analyst as he rolled his eyes: “I had our DNA tested; we don’t match.”

“Tests can be wrong,” said Bagby while putting a reassuring hand on Slate’s shoulder. Slate looked at the hand and lifted it away with two fingers, obviously reluctant at any form of physical contact: “I had the tests redone three times.”

“Ok…” said Bagby, dropping the act all together. He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled in amusement: “I have to admit that I did not see that one coming. You’re really paranoid, aren’t you?”

“What do you really want?” asked Slate, while brushing his shoulder to make sure that Bagby had not somehow placed a bug on him. The old pilot winced and lifted a finger: “Do you mind if I borrow an ACU for a little bit?”

Slate froze in place and turned his gaze back to him: “How long?”

“You know… twenty… maybe twenty five years?” said Bagby casually while trying to minimize the impact. Slate just shook his head, his right hand wriggling in the air once more. Meanwhile, Bagby still tried to convince him: “I need a vacation and maybe do some fishing. Who knows, someone might be in need of a good tutorial down the line too and I can give those, but I need to practice first and um…”

Slate suddenly brought out a small data chip from his wrist computer and handed it forward: “Hangar twelve, dock eight. Here you go.”

Bagby took the data chip and stared at it dumbly: “Wow… that easy?”

“Why not?” said Slate with a shrug. The Chimera placed his hands back in his pockets as he spoke: “I hate your guts and you just offered me at least twenty years of vacation. Why would I refuse?”

The analyst then turned around without warning and started walking away. It took a moment for Bagby to digest the news, but he then smiled, actually happy that Slate had managed to surprise him. Even so, there was no way that he was letting him walk out of this with the upper hand and a grin appeared on his face as he taunted him one last time: “You know, I really did sleep with a Chimera a long time ago. Are you sure about that test?”

-----

Keith, one of Node Fifty-Six’s elite commandos, cracked his fingers together in anticipation. He was a specialist in every manner of small arms and could kill a man with his bare hands at least three times before he even hit the ground. It was therefore with a small amount of distaste that he leaned forward and mentally braced himself for what would most likely be the biggest challenge of the day: “Come on, time to go home, big guy.”

The Cybran looked back at him woozily, obviously drunk. Even so, the slightly overweight man still had enough common sense to hold back his objections as Keith helped him up to his feet. Keith nodded back at Bob from the corner of his eyes, assuring the bartender that his latest customer would be returned to his home safe and sound. The Commando turned around towards the exit just as Sjet suddenly barged in with an alarmed look on his face: “Bagby just took an ACU!”

“Crap, not again!” exclaimed Keith while letting go of the drunk. The man flailed around in surprise and barely managed to get a hold of the table as he fell back into his chair. Keith ignored him and took a few steps towards Sjet: “Any leads?”

“Just a poster on his home’s door that says ‘gone fishing’,” said the other Commando while shaking his head. Keith gave it some thought before nodding back: “He must have caught the trace of some leftover Seven Hand Node pilot.”

If Bagby was crazy enough to take an ACU then how far would he go until he was satisfied? The last time that this had happened, an entire node had been wiped out! Keith grabbed Sjet by the shoulder to better impart the urgency of the situation: “Get the others, anyone that you can get your hands on. We need to find him before we have an intergalactic incident on our hands!”

The Commandos immediately sprinted out of the bar, leaving the rest of the patrons murmuring in confusion. The bartender that everyone always called Bob looked at the door dumbly for a few seconds before retreating back into his kitchen. He passed by the racks of home grown spices, vegetables cultivated on Seraphim Two and the freezer which held UEF meat products. Things sure had changed over the past year as his growing belly amply demonstrated.

It took the bartender a few minutes to search through his cooking instruments, half of which he still did not know how to use, until he finally found his wrist computer again. He searched for a video file, activated it and then fast forwarded it to the sentence that mattered: “There will come a day when he will need you. When that day comes, you’ll know what to do.”

Bob hesitated for a moment, his face taking on a grim and determined look as he whole heartedly embraced his new mission. He unfastened his apron, threw it in a corner and picked up a case of Minerva Swamp from the storage shelf. He then stepped out of the kitchen and back into the bar’s main room: “All right, everybody out! I’m closing the bar for the day.”

“What? Close the bar?” echoed the drunken Cybran who was nursing his drink once more: “You’ve never done that before.”

The bartender grunted, placed his case of Minerva Swamp on the counter and went back into the kitchen. When he returned, it was while waving around a head sized frying pan while shouting at the top of his lungs like a madman: “Out!”

Every patron scrambled out of his way and made a dash for the exit. The door was locked behind them as they left, leaving them alone in the middle of a bright and sunny day. The drunk Cybran stood panting with a hand pressed against his chest, his eyes wide in confusion: “Jeez, what’s wrong with him?”

-----

Not a sound could be heard as Bagby reared back, focusing all of his energy into his next move. The old SCU pilot took a steadying breath, determined to reach further than ever in his next attempt. His arms then snapped forward like a snake, the fishing rod moving through the air in a graceful yet precise pattern that sent the line far and wide. The bait fell into the water with a satisfying splash and Bagby smiled, satisfied at his new performance.

The old pilot’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of an engine and he turned around just as vehicle appeared on the nearby hill. He smiled while licking his lips, eagerly anticipating what was to come: “Well, it’s about damned time.”

The vehicle stopped near the edge of the water and Bagby waved when the driver stepped out: “Hey Bob. Did you bring some booze?”

Bagby could almost imagine the bartender’s grumbling from here, but the man still reached back into the vehicle and lifted a case of Minerva Swamp a second later. The old pilot smiled in approval and beckoned him forward: “Then come right over.”

Bob quickly removed his shoes and hesitantly stepped into the frigid water while cursing under his breath: “I knew you’d be around here.”

“Yeah, I’m actually where I said I’d be,” retorted Bagby while rolling his eyes. His voice dripped with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm as he gestured wildly: “Boy is that predictable. Why do people always assume that I’m not telling the truth?”

The bartender was about to offer a colorful retort, but instead yelped in pain while bringing a hand to his ear. He rubbed it while cursing again and kicked in the water for good measure: “Damned quantum field!”

Bagby merely shrugged as Bob got closer and giggled in silence as the water rose to the bartender’s waist. Bob finally reached his intended destination, but then looked up in confusion with a desperate look on his face: “How do I get up there?”

A mocking laugh escaped Bagby and he slapped his leg. The old pilot was sitting upon his ACU’s outstretched leg, using it as a comfortable perch while fishing. Bob glowered back at him and Bagby allowed a few seconds to pass before pointing at a few spots along the ACU’s frame: “Just use the handholds, you lousy oaf!”

“I’m getting too old for this,” complained Bob as he started climbing up. He found the handholds easily enough, but it was still a feat to try and climb up the side of an ACU’s leg with one hand holding on to his case of Minerva Swamp. He almost slipped as he reached the top, but Bagby caught a hold of his hand and helped him up: “Come on, just put your leg here. There you go.”

Bob stood gasping for breath next to Bagby on the ACU’s outstretched leg. The old pilot merely shrugged and took a bottle of Minerva Swamp from the case. Bob finally sank to down to catch his breath: “So, you didn’t steal that ACU to go on another rampage?”

The old pilot shook his head as he took a sip from his bottle: “Nope, just fishing.”

Bob sighed in relief and took a bottle of Minerva Swamp as well. His eyes drifted to huge hat which was strapped to Bagby’s back and he raised an eyebrow: “And the sombrero?”

“That’s for when I get tired of fishing,” said Bagby as if the answer was obvious. Bob was about to ask another question, but then simply gave up. Sometimes, it was just simpler not to know how Bagby’s mind worked.

The two men sat in silence for a while with neither speaking. Bob studied Bagby for a moment and while it was apparent that a part of him was still sad, he was still a far cry from the devastated man that he had been only a few days ago. Something must have changed, but what? The bartender took a sip of his bottle before daring to speak: “In some ways, I think she was happy.”

“I know,” said Bagby after a moment, a trace of regret slipping into his voice. A sad smile touched his lip as he pulled on his fishing line a bit: “I still would have liked it if things had been different; if she had the time to make a family or something. I don’t want to think that she died alone.”

The answer surprised Bob who had expected the old pilot to remain silent in the matter. Something definitely had changed: “Maybe she wasn’t. She was a big girl, you know.”

A snort escaped Bagby as he twirled a finger into the air: “I was thinking more of true love and sappy stuff. I don’t think she ever found something like that since my boy died.”

A chuckle escaped the old pilot as fond memories came to mind: “I mean you’d have to be a master of infiltration to somehow sneak out with her without anyone finding out. I have eyes like a hawk after all. Even then, who could possibly not brag about it afterwards? A guy would have to be a mute to…”

The words died on Bagby’s lips and his eyes slowly widened. Bob felt his heart skip a beat and he feared that he had accidentally fractured his friend’s newfound serenity: “Bagby?”

“I’m going to kill him,” said Bagby, his voice strong and determined. Bob gulped nervously, afraid of what would happen next: “Who?”

“Queren!” shouted Bagby as if the answer was obvious. The old pilot took a hearty swig of his drink before grumbling under his breath: “I should have known that something was up with him. You know, with him being silent and shifty eyed whenever she was around. Come to think of it, everything was different since he saw her dancing in that dress.”

“Maybe they were just friends,” offered Bob weakly. Bagby whirled on the bartender, his gaze making it clear that defending Queren was not the best of choices at the moment: “Friends with benefits, you mean!”

“Sjet was right,” continued Bagby while finishing the rest of his bottle: “Never, ever, trust the silent ones.”

“You’re not really going to kill him,” offered Bob with a nervous smile. For a moment, the bartender remembered all the things that Bagby had done in his time and he doubted his own assertion: “Are you?”

“Nah,” said Bagby while rolling his eyes, partially insulted that Bob would honestly think that he could. A mischievous yet slightly sadistic smile appeared on Bagby’s face as more fitting punishments coursed through his mind: “But the guy has something coming to him. You just wait.”

Bob nodded hesitantly, still worried, but confident that no tragedy would result out of any of this. The bartender suddenly realized with a grunt that Bagby had managed, yet again, to get him all worked up over nothing. Even after over twenty years, he could still manage to pull it off and he was getting sick of it: “You’re not going to tell me what happened to make you all happy again, are you?”

“Nope,” replied Bagby with a shrug, offering Bob as much of straight answer as he could under the circumstances. Bob sighed but then nodded, satisfied that while he did not know what was going on, that at least things were looking up. His gaze drifted back to the huge sombrero that was strapped to Bagby’s back and he raised an eyebrow: “Will you at least tell me what the ACU, sombrero and fishing rod all have in common?”

Bagby gave it some thought and then nodded. He pulled on the ridiculous looking sombrero, strapped it solidly against his head and then pressed a button on his wrist computer. Bob turned back to look at the ACU in alarm as its chest plate slid open and screamed in surprise as it fired a torpedo. The guided missile flew between the ACU’s legs and sailed off in the distance before exploding.

A huge splash of water fell upon them a second later and Bagby leaned forward while keeping a firm hold of his sombrero. The deluge ended as quickly as it had begun and the old pilot smiled in triumph, the hat having warded off most of the water. He then leaned along the side of the ACU’s leg and eagerly picked up one of the dead and mostly intact fish before turning around and presenting it proudly to Bob: “That’s the stuff!”

The bartender, soaked from head to toe, merely spat the water he had accidentally swallowed and looked back at Bagby furiously. The old pilot merely shrugged back while smiling from ear to ear: “You asked…”

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First post!

Awesome! I love your books dots.

You evil, cliff-hanger-making bastard ! Keep 'em coming, love these books.

the suspense is drilling a hole im my head!!!!!

Great job on your last book dots. I always think after I read a chapter that it can't get better, but it does. Keep up the good work.

tried to play FA multiplayer and was reminded how fed up I was with the game. Every game is stacked. EVERY game.

wargarbl?

Whoopee! Here we go!

how so?

also, i cant wait for the next one, curious to see how you are going to portray all 3 of the champions, buckethead, timmy and whatsherface in going through the FA campaign when it was 1 campaign that we do 3 times, with slight differences