This was not how Talons were supposed to die. No fight. No chance to defend their position. Lured into a trap set by a craven enemy. Done in by the disobedience of one of their own. Two inglorious deaths, neither on the battlefield.

  Only when the crew of nineteen were safely inside Horn – the Talon helmets retracted and pressure suits removed – did Kara detect a surge in a new direction, driven by revenge and bloodlust. When Yusef piloted the Scramjet into orbit and made final approach toward Scylla, the language changed. Weary, dismayed, and hardboiled eyes studied the massive hulk, which hung limp in orbit. The first call to blast it from the sky preceded any mention of Exeter’s name.

  “A railgun already took out one of their ships,” Lin Sangoon said. “These filth deserve the same justice.”

  Lin was the most animated Kara had seen since the mission began. She knew little about him beyond his struggle to defend his home world, Hokkaido, across the divide. He also carried June for hours, listening up close to her suffering and decline.

  His most vocal supporters were, to Kara’s surprise, his fellow Hokkis of Green Sun. Mosh Koo-Ti, who hankered for a fight from the outset, and Jai Zaan, who lost her brother and best friend, took positions at Lin’s side.

  “We have the advantage,” Mosh said. “Make them shit their pants then burn them all.”

  Jai flared her nostrils, one hand poised against her collider pistol.

  “They never gave us a chance. It was an ambush. Why are we hesitating?”

  Kara thought Jai’s question was valid; she would lose no sleep over the Scylla’s destruction, either. Yet the hypocrisy did not escape her. Jai and Joa, like many of her ilk, used ambush as their primary means of executing immos in Pinchon. They specialized in drive-byes.

  “And what of Exeter?” Ham asked the crew. “We don’t know his fate. If we destroy the ship, there will be no doubt.”

  Kara expected pushback, given what the Talons said inside the tunnel. Some would never forgive him. Yet no one spoke to the matter. Instead, all eyes shifted together, as if in a collective hypnotic trance. They landed on Ryllen, who stood before the crew alongside Admiral Cortez and Major Aleksanyan. Was it out of deference or fear?

  She saw a man who was exhausted physically and emotionally. Those empty gray eyes, which fascinated Kara more than the rainbow-colored braids crawling over his shoulders like a nest of snakes, gave away nothing. He worked hard to save the team and hold onto their respect, yet everyone on Horn knew his feelings for Exeter. Were they asking for his blessing to attack? Was he debating his answer? Was he willing to sacrifice Exeter to preserve the admiration of his unit?

  “I won’t deny it,” Ryllen said. “I love X. But this isn’t my call.”

  He turned to Cando, who leapfrogged him in chain of command.

  The Major nodded, as if he predicted Ryllen’s deflection.

  “Everyone in this cabin agrees: Justice must be served. It will be. That is the last ship Dayton Romilius will ever captain. But that ship is also a huge military asset. Those Chancellors stole it. I think there might be a certain justice if we stole it from them. Admiral?”

  Judging from the murmurs, this was an option no one else had considered. Kara had expected to see it in a million pieces, with or without Exeter returned.

  Ham took charge of the room, which was his specialty.

  “If I had the power to end the Chancellory for good, I would not hesitate. We should seek to destroy all their major assets. Never have a people more deserved to wander the desert. They’ll reform no other way. But how might we achieve such a feat?”

  He pointed to Scylla, which was featured end to end on the largest window.

  “The answers are onboard. Their locations and disposition. Their Alliance contacts. Their plans. We can find it all in their data spools and in their minds.” He tapped his right temple. “These Chancellors still use stream amps. This allows for ease of communication but also proper filing of data inside a biomechanical implant a millimeter wide. I still carry one, which I nullified when I moved to Hokkaido. Reactivation is not difficult. These Chancellors don’t know how to find the Inventor, but they are the key to so much more.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Lin asked, his skepticism clear.

  “A consideration of risk and reward. Our original mission – to find Amayas Knight and destroy the Splinters – can continue without Scylla or Exeter, if that is the choice. But would we be more equipped to succeed if we possessed a Worm-capable warship? I don’t propose we wreak destruction but rather use Scylla as a method of intimidation when the circumstance arises.”

  “How? We disabled it.”

  Ham turned to Yusef. “Did your drone destroy the system engine?”

  “No. It scrambled the synaptic sensors. Basically, it clogged the entire array with Carbedyne backslop.”

  “How long would repairs require?”

  Yusef frowned. “That’s a tricky one, Admiral. Talk to the engineer.”

  Eyes turned to Kara.

  “I only have one comparable reference,” she said. “When Nantou’s biggest trawlers come in for a refurbish, they typically spend two weeks in dry dock. That includes a full cleansing of the shimmer tunnel. Essentially, it’s a factory reset. I’d have to go inside the array to make an accurate assessment.”

  Ham appeared satisfied with the answer.

  “This is where the ship’s own data spools might be invaluable.”

  Lin wasn’t having it. “But two weeks? We’ll be a sitting target. What do we do in the meantime? Put those assholes in cells and feed them? There’s no justice unless they’re floating in space.”

  “You want flesh, Lin. We all do. My promise? You will have your share. But we don’t yet know Scylla’s crew manifest. If there are children onboard, do you wish to slaughter them, too? They lost hundreds on Herodotus. As a consequence, they were highly motivated for revenge. Do we risk repeating that cycle?”

  “In war? Yes.”

  “This is not war. Not yet. This is between us and anyone complicit with Dayton Romilius.”

  “How do we decide?”

  “The way Chancellors do. If you’re of fighting age, you’re complicit. You completed all tiers of your education. You are an adult. In other words, fourteen years old.”

  Kara couldn’t believe the direction Ham was headed. He began with an elegant argument. Now he was classifying anyone eligible to be executed. Maybe he felt the political necessity to manage those hot for revenge with those who considered the moral implications.

  “To clarify,” Ham said. “When we take the ship, we will need to parse essential from non-essential personnel. This cannot be as sloppy as what occurred at the Taron estate. Too many civilians were slaughtered indiscriminately. I was not aware of the plan to electrocute the KumTaan. Eliminate the enemy, not those who have no part in the fight.”

  “And this captain? Romilius?”

  “He will be mine.”

  The silence, Kara thought, felt like tacit acceptance of Ham’s proposal. All who thirsted for revenge would have their fill.

  Ham continued.

  “Then there is the matter of Exeter. I made him a promise. I said I would find a way to save him. I told him to trust me. In all my life, I can count the number of promises I’ve made on both hands. I can count those I’ve kept on one hand. If Exeter is alive, he will have to atone. For you Talons, the history with him is long and complex. It is not my conflict, and I will defer to your judgment. Of course, everything I’ve said is contingent on what we hear from Scylla. I understand they’ve been trying to contact us for over an hour.”

  “Nonstop,” Yusef said. “I wouldn’t say the tone has grown more desperate, but I suspect the shit is staining a few pants.”

  “Good. Then we contact them. But I need this to be specific. I want an audio feed only. I don’t want to play my cards too soon. My voice alone should be enough to unnerve him. I’ve known men like this all my life. I insist on silence. Understood?”

  He waited for the crew’s assent.

  “Yusef, I might ask you to cut audio. I will clench my fist.”

  Ham demonstrated the signal and asked the crew to make itself comfortable.

  “You’ve had little chance to take a meaningful breath for hours. Sit and reflect while you can. The next fight will begin soon.”

  Kara did not realize how exhausted she was until Ham invited her to take the weight off. She found a comfortable spot against the starboard bulkhead. Chi-Qua, in gray armor from neck down, joined her. They spoke briefly on the surface with a greeting that didn’t begin to measure what they overcame.

  “I thought I’d make some incredible memories on this mission,” Chi-Qua said. “This is what? Day One?”

  “You might want to keep a journal.”

  “I’m proud of you, Kara. I heard what you did. If you hadn’t found the design flaw in …”

  “I did my part, Chi. An educated guess. Your man did the rest. And Ham has done more than anyone to keep us alive.”

  “And to think: We didn’t trust him at all after Mal’s Drop.”

  “I know. But don’t forget: He’s a Chancellor and he’s arrogant. He will make a mistake.”

  Up front, Yusef opened the audio feed. Ham silenced the cabin.

  “… again, Scramjet Horn. We ask to know your intentions. Our situation is distressing. If you wish to destroy us, please proceed. If not, please state your objectives.”

  Ham gave Yusef the fist. The audio ended.

  “You’ll notice how Captain Romilius can’t bring himself to ask for direct assistance. Most normal humans would beg for mercy. Hmm. Restore the audio link.”

  After Yusef gave him the high sign, Ham responded.

  “Greetings, Scylla. What a strange and delightful surprise to hear your voice again, Dayton.”

  The line remained open, but a hush settled in. At last:

  “Hamilton?”

  Scylla’s captain failed to hide his shock.

  “Yes. Still breathing.”

  “Indeed, you are. Some of my staff theorized the possibility of a secondary escape route after your Scramjet retreated to the surface.”

  “I’m sure that same staff recommended leaving this system after you destroyed Artemis. Hmm. I’m stunned they haven’t removed you from the chair. Still time, I would think.”

  “Come now, Hamilton. What’s your agenda?”

  “Garden variety revenge, of course. My finger is half an inch from commanding our railgun to finish you with the precision of the Herodotus. Again, I’m amazed your senior staff hasn’t tossed you aside for bungling the job.”

  Dayton sounded all business with his next response.

  “What are your terms?”

  “Your unconditional surrender.”

  Silence.

  Ham gave Yusef the fist.

  “If he accepts, he’s a liar. No Chancellor would give up a prize like Scylla unless he had another play.”

  The audio feed reopened. After another hush, Dayton said:

  “In the interest of saving lives, I surrender.”

  “Your senior staff and those who pull your strings agree?”

  “I am Captain. That makes me … I think … you see ... the only voice that matters.”

  “Then you will make sure my demands are met before we board. First, you are to send us an updated crew manifest. I want names and roles. When we arrive, I intend to verify every name against a living human. If you overlook anyone, that person will be killed, plus another of our choosing in order to avoid additional discrepancies.

  “Second, all personal weapons are to be nullified. They are to be transported to the landing deck and placed in the dorsal arm of a drone loader. Third, no one of yours will be present on the deck when we arrive. Fourth, do not attempt to manipulate your data spools with Oasis. You might have fooled us at Artemis, but we know how to break through. All records will be made available to my team. Are you with me so far, Dayton?”

  “I must ask, on behalf of my anxious crew, what will we receive in exchange?”

  “Life. For most of you, that is. We intend to repair the ship, take command, and apply appropriate justice. When the thought comes to mind, we’ll drop you off in the midst of civilization.”

  “Ah. So your Scramjet created our disaster on the premise of knowing how to repair it.”

  Ham rolled his eyes without response.

  “There’s one other matter. Exeter Woolsey. He will be the one to greet us on the landing deck.”

  “I’m afraid we cannot comply with that demand.”

  “Why?”

  “Justice was served. He is well beyond your reach.”

  “Understood.”

  Ham raised his fist then turned to a devastated Ryllen.

  “He’s lying, RJ. A Chancellor crafts his words carefully. He has not actually said he will comply with these demands. Whatever his play, Dayton Romilius has not killed Exeter. Or if he did, he learned Exeter’s secret before spacing the body. Either way, we’ll discover his purpose in time. Hold fast. Yusef, restore audio.”

  “Do you have additional demands, Hamilton?”

  “No. Begin preparations. We’ll arrive soon.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss.”

  “Or I’ll talk and you’ll listen. If you can. Goodbye, Dayton.”

  When the audio feed dropped, crew reaction was swift.

  “He’s laying another trap,” Lin said to broad agreement.

  Ham nodded with certainty.

  “Then why would we walk into a second one?”

  “For two simple reasons. One, we’ve been warned. Two, we won’t come at him like he expects. I have something more imaginative in mind. It starts with you Talons. You’ll enjoy it. Care to hear more?”

  33

  O NE HOUR LATER, HORN APPROACHED the landing bay beneath Scylla’s massive hexagonal stern section. To the naked eye, the warship’s surface features were difficult to make out. Both ships fell behind the dark side of Y-14, and Scylla operated on emergency power. Horn approached with searchlights activated. The landing bay greeted them at a safe distance, its glow a murky red.

  All six chairs beneath Horn’s nav matrix were occupied, each person focused on a different analytical window. The Scramjet’s combat scans dove deep inside the crippled ship. Yusef handled nav while Hiro studied the structural configuration of the bay and the immediate vicinity. Kara and Cando studied analysis of the hulk above – their best look inside the engine array. Paul monitored human movement throughout Scylla using heat reflections, a technique possible only while defense shields were down. Ham waited at the open comm channel, quietly reviewing his strategy for flaws. Had he overlooked anything?

  The last time he commanded an assault team, Ham Cortez was known as Lt. Nathaniel Loomis.

  What had it been? Twenty-seven years? Strike Unit 17, attached to the Parcelle Battalion on Ark Carrier Udontis, stationed above Inuit Kingdom. Worst posting in the Collectorate. Ham couldn’t remember the reason for the assault. Some sort of internecine nonsense between rival factions.

  This assignment brought back memories he thought long buried and command qualities he shook off like fleas when he went native. But how else to avoid bungling the mission?

  “Dayton Romilius wants this ship,” Ham told the Talons earlier. “Once we’re exposed, he’ll target obvious threats with overwhelming force. The rest? He’ll kill, imprison, or space. Bottom line, he will possess a Worm-capable, combat Scramjet. He can use Horn to create a supply line of workers and materials until Scylla is repaired.”

  “Define overwhelming force,” Cando said.

  “Ten to one. At least.”

  “But you anticipate flash pegs and conventional laser rifles.”

  “Yes. There is always a risk of more advanced weaponry, but I doubt it. The Inventor designed a new ship, not new rifles. They’re playing with used goods. Your armor will hold up.”

  “And theirs?”

  “Assuming they’re all wearing the fabric of the Guard, they might be stubborn. But they have no chance against your turbos.”

  “Is there a means they can use to execute a suicide maneuver? If it’s all but over, they may decide no one else can have Scylla.”

  “Chancellors don’t commit suicide. They fight to the death or run away. These people already chose the latter; now they’ll look to the former. If there is a self-destruct mechanism, we’ll monitor for any changes in the ship’s energy dynamics. At that point, you’ll run. Yes?”

  Cando smiled. “We’re outstanding runners, Admiral.”

  Now, from his position below the nav matrix, Ham was satisfied with what he saw and the chatter he heard.

  “Time to move in,” he told the crew. “Positions.”

  Yusef accelerated Horn. Five Talons – Ryllen, Force, Lin, Leto, and Meena – formed a phalanx close to the portside egress, their helmets extended and AF breathing units activated.

  “Open your HN20 comm feed, set to UniCon, and link to Horn’s matrix,” Cando ordered. The communications bridge inside their helmets took visual form, drifting among the many holowindows. “Audio check.” Their voices rang clear and true. “You are go for Status Green. Hunt with valor.”

  Ham called to Hiro Parke, who studied the landing bay for any potential trouble spots.

  “Have you completed a scan on the drone loader?”

  “I have,” Hiro said. “It appears they did fill the dorsal arm, and there are weapons piled atop. However, I can’t verify authenticity of the weapons or if it’s an illusion. The arm is two meters deep. They might have clogged it with random mechanical supplies.”

  “Any other concerns?”

  “As we expected, the cascade barrier is down. They don’t have enough power to hold the wall.”

  “So far as we know. Paul, talk to me about their movements.”

  Paul Ochoba stretched his window and tilted it toward Ham.

  “They’re staying clear of the bay, as they agreed, but they are surging into a passive-aggressive formation.” He highlighted heat signatures at the head of T intersections just off the primary and secondary corridors to the bay. “They appear to be lying in wait. Classic ambush from both flanks. But it’s this other contingent one level higher and starboard of the bay that intrigues me. Either they intend to attack from the bay’s supervisory platform as soon as we disembark, or their mission is to allow us entry, provide a few moments of false comfort, and then come from behind.”