Carter scowled at the Master Medic. “What wrinkles?”

  Carina laughed from the medical bed next to him. Carter redirected his scowl in her direction and noticed that Carina had pulled the top half of her armor down to her waist and smothered the Nanodermal Revitagen all over her face, neck, hands, and arms. It looked like she’d be dipped in molten candle wax.

  “Shit, Carina, you could have warned me!” Carter said, feeling like he was in a waking nightmare. “You look like something from a horror movie.”

  “Oh really? Have you glanced in a mirror lately?” Carina replied sassily. “Because you’re not looking too hot yourself right now.”

  Carter grunted and lay back, letting his head thump into the pillow. The intense neural energy emanating from the Staff of Amentet had burned their faces and partially melted their armored uniforms. Both were capable of self-healing, but the uniforms had regenerated without intervention. He and Carina had required a little help, hence their prolonged stay in Lyra’s care.

  “Fine, slather me with it,” Carter said, peeling his uniform away and giving in to the inevitable.

  Lyra smiled and began to apply the cream thickly to the affected areas. These were mostly his face, chest and neck, and hands. A little extra was needed on his right arm, where his uniform had melted after he’d punched his sword through the energy barrier and stabbed the Overseer of Apophis in the gut.

  Carina had suffered less severe burns on account of the fact she’d been bracing Carter from behind and had been shielded by his mass. The explosion that had blown them out of the reactor room had caused more injuries to the Master Officer than it had to Carter. Again, thanks to Lyra, she was almost completely healed. With regular nano-stims and rest, it would have taken them days to recover their full strength, but with a Master Medic in their corner, their recovery time was reduced to hours.

  “I love the fragrance of this cream,” Carina commented, rubbing a little more into her hands. She was resting against the head end of the bed, one knee bent, as if relaxing beside a tree on a perfect summer’s day. “What else did you put into it besides nano-gizmos?”

  Lyra shrugged. “The base cream is pretty much what you’d find in any body lotion you might buy at a fancy cosmetics store. It’s a hydro-gel matrix with some bioactive polymers, vitamins, amino acids and minerals, anti-inflammatory agents, and my special mix of essential oils, moisturizers, and emollients.”

  “Well, I think you’ve got a hit product on your hands,” Carina replied. “Vega’s Nanodermal Revitagen…” she added, moving her hands like she was describing a billboard advertising campaign. “Essential beauty care, by the galaxy’s only Master Medic. Just five hundred credits a tub…”

  Carter snorted. “Five hundred credits, my ass. No cream is worth that.”

  “You don’t think so?” Lyra said, cocking an eyebrow at the Master General.

  “Beauty products are all a scam if you ask me,” Carter grumbled. Lying in a hospital ward made him irritable. “Just cheap oils and fancy marketing.”

  Lyra smiled, moved to a lab bench, and returned with a hand mirror a moment later.

  “Maybe you’d like to take a look, sir?” the Master Medic said, speaking like a cosmetics store sales advisor talking to a customer.

  Carter grunted and grabbed the mirror. Lyra’s cream had already soaked into his skin, and the neural burns were almost gone. He frowned and focused on a part of his neck that was still a little blotchy. The cells were regenerating so fast he could see the new skin growing. He turned his head from side to side and massaged his beard with his free hand. Even his wiry bristles felt softer.

  “Look at you, Mister Vain…” Carina said, laughing.

  Carter lowered the mirror and scowled at her again. The cream on her face, neck, and hands had also vanished, and he couldn’t see any trace of her burns.

  “That cream has made you look ten years younger,” Carina added. Then she shrugged and pouted. “Though, for a hundred-and-eighty-year-old, I guess that’s not saying much.”

  Carter pretended to ignore her and returned the mirror to Lyra. Then he refitted his uniform and threw his legs over the side of the bed. As always, after a trip to see the augmented doctor, he was left feeling stronger than ever.

  “Thank you, Lyra. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Carter said sincerely.

  “My pleasure, sir,” Lyra replied, smiling and squeezing his arm. “You’re both free to go. You have a Master Medic’s clean bill of health.”

  Carina jumped off her bed and flexed her arms and shoulders. To look at her, it would be impossible to know she’d been close to death only a few hours previously. Her Aternien battle uniform had regenerated and was as pristine as her appearance. It was like she’d stepped out of a luxury spa after two days of non-stop pampering.

  Admiral Krantz then entered the medical wing of the HQ building, and Carter straightened to attention. Carina also stood to attention, keen to maintain a formal relationship with her aunt while on duty. Lyra acknowledged the Admiral, too, but instead of standing to attention, she perched herself on the side of Carter’s bed and casually dipped her hands into her lab coat pockets. Senior and specialist medical officers could be a peculiar bunch, Carter mused. They were often granted considerable leeway in terms of protocol.

  “Are you cleared for duty, General?” Krantz asked.

  “I am, thanks to Lyra,” Carter replied.

  Krantz nodded, and Carter sensed that she was about to hurry them away, but he had a question to ask first. It had been gnawing at the back of his mind since returning to Terra Prime.

  “I wanted to ask about Lieutenant Chavez and his squad,” Carter said before Krantz could get another word in edgeways. “They fought bravely, and I wanted to know if they suffered any casualties.”

  “Six were killed,” Krantz replied, as usual, not mincing her words. “Lieutenant Chavez is in the hospital but expected to make a full recovery,”

  “He deserves a medal,” Carter grunted. He wasn’t naive enough to think that Chavez’s squad could go up against Montu and walk away without a scratch. Even so, the sour news that half of the team had been killed saddened and infuriated him in equal measure.

  “And he’ll get one, as will all of his troopers, dead and alive, once this is all over,” Krantz replied sternly. “But medals can wait. Right now, we are needed in the War Room.”

  This was classic Admiral Klara Krantz. No preamble, no messing about, just straight to business. He found it comforting beyond his ability to express in words that she was back in command.

  Krantz was suddenly also reminded of a question she needed to ask. She turned to Master Medic Vega.

  “How are preparations proceeding to distribute the reversion cure?” Krantz asked.

  “Everything is going to plan,” Lyra replied, still perched on the edge of the bed. “I estimate forty-eight hours until the cloud seeding devices are positioned over Mega London and most other major cities. We’re already treating the water supplies and have manufactured enough stims to inoculate all essential military personnel.”

  “Good,” Krantz said, sounding pleased and slightly surprised by the update. “It seems that Cody is a man who can get things done, after all.”

  Lyra nodded. “He still shouldn’t be president, though.”

  Krantz recoiled at the Master Medic’s directness. “No, he should not be. But Cody is who we have, and so long as he is helping rather than hindering, we can leave the matter of whom should be president until the Union is safe.”

  Krantz did leave this time, and Carter and Carina followed the Admiral through the labyrinthine corridors of the HQ building and into the basement-level War Room. President Crawford, along with members of his team, were already gathered around the Strategic Command Hub. There was a young woman with Crawford, and Carter recognized her as Samantha Peterson, his niece.

  Peterson wasn’t a member of Crawford’s staff or even a government employee, but the President clearly wanted her close. Crawford nodded to Carter as he approached, the gratitude gleaming in his eyes and lifting his sagging facial muscles better than any Revitagen cream could do. Saving his niece had earned Carter and the Master Officers more than Crawford’s gratitude. It had earned his trust.

  Brodie and Amaya were also in the War Room, huddled together on a huge leather sofa in a breakout area in the corner of the space. Brodie was halfway through eating an enormous grilled ham and cheese sandwich, which looked big enough to feed four people, while Amaya appeared to be drinking a margarita.

  “Where the hell did she get a margarita from?” Carter said, shaking his head.

  “Why, are you thirsty?” Carina replied coyly. She then considered the question more earnestly before shrugging. “Amaya is nothing if not resourceful. How about we ask?”

  Carina sauntered to the Master Officers, and Brodie hurriedly slid his plate onto the coffee table. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and was about to stand, but Carter urged him to stay seated.

  “It’s okay, don’t get up,” Carter said. He noted that Amaya never had any intention of standing. She still had her legs on the sofa, one resting on Brodie’s muscular thigh.

  “Fancy a drink, skipper?” Amaya asked. “They’ve got a wicked bar here. I could do you a Long Island Ice Tea or a Mojito?”

  “He’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” Carina cut in before Carter could politely refuse. Carina side-eyed him roguishly. “You love Sex on the Beach, don’t you, Carter?”

  “I just wanted to check how you were doing,” Carter said, pretending that Carina wasn’t there. “And also to thank you for getting us back to Mega London. Not for the first time, I owe you my life.”

  Brodie looked embarrassed to be complimented. This was a trait that Carter and the Master-at-Arms shared.

  “I wouldn’t be much of a security officer if I couldn’t keep my captain safe,” Brodie replied humbly. “Besides, it felt good to be back in action again, actually doing something, you know?”

  Carter nodded. He knew precisely how Brodie felt. Then he noticed that the Master Officer’s Bulava mace was propped up on the end of the leather sofa. It was heavily dented, scratched, and pockmarked but had held up well.

  “Brodie was a brute,” Amaya said, placing both feet on Brodie’s legs now that the man had sat back again. “Those poor Medjay didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Hey, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Brodie said, patting Amaya’s knee. It was a gesture of thanks but also affection. The sort of thing that couples did. Carina saw it too and was smiling. “I told you that Town Watch rapier was a good choice. It cut through Montu armor much better than a pure fencing sword.”

  Amaya nodded. “You’re right, of course. It’s an elegant weapon, as befitting its bearer.”

  “Beauty and the beast,” Carina said, still smiling. “You two make a great couple.”

  Amaya almost spilled her margarita down her front, and Brodie looked like he was choking on the last bite of his grilled cheese. Amaya slid her legs off Brodie’s thighs, and the two officers sat up, inching away from one another.

  “Couple?” Brodie snorted. “Now, what put that idea into your head, MC?”

  “Yeah, I mean, come on,” Amaya chipped in, hiding behind her glass. “We’re just friends, right Brodes?”

  There was a certain hopefulness in the question, as if Amaya secretly wished that Brodie would admit to it being more. Sadly, the Master-at-Arms could face a whole army of Aternien Warriors, but acknowledging his feelings was a struggle he couldn’t seem to overcome.

  “Sure, yeah, that’s right,” Brodie said, aggressively wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Friends…”

  Carter sighed and then glanced at Carina, who was shaking her head at Brodie and Amaya. If it hadn’t been for Krantz calling them over, Carter reckoned the Master Commander might have confronted them then and there and compelled them to speak truth to one another. As it was, duty called.

  “Before we begin, I want to commend Master General Rose and his crew for their swift and decisive action in defending Terra Three,” Krantz said, addressing the President and the assembled officers. “Thanks to their efforts, the God-King was defeated, but we should not be complacent. Now is the time to press our advantage.” Krantz turned to Colonel Whitaker. “Colonel, please provide an update on the condition of our fleet.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Whitaker said.

  The SCH table projected a detailed analysis of all the ships they had at their disposal. Carter noted that the number had increased despite their losses in the battle above Terra Three.

  “Our current force strength stands at six hundred and seventy combat-capable vessels,” Whitaker began. “This includes over one hundred vessels recovered from the shipyards above Terra Three. These powerful new designs include Medusa-class destroyers, Dauntless-II battlecruisers, and even a handful of Aegis-class ships that have yet to see active service.”

  “Good, we may need those vessels sooner than expected,” Krantz said.

  Carter scowled at the Admiral. “Why, what’s happened?”

  “Apophis has demanded a meeting at the diplomatic outpost,” Krantz replied while using the SCH table to project an image of the space station in no man’s land. “To be precise, he has demanded a meeting with you, General Rose.”

  Carter raised an eyebrow. Their actions on Terra Three had clearly gotten the God-King’s attention.

  “Did this demand come with any explanation as to the nature of the meeting?” Carter asked.

  He knew that Apophis had already extended an amnesty offer to Monique, albeit with conditions attached, which had been soundly rejected. And while Markus Aternus had once tried to recruit Carter to his side, Apophis was a blending of the old God-King and Nathan Clynes. The genius scientist and mastermind behind the Longsword program knew Carter could never be turned from his duty.

  “Unfortunately not. There was only the demand and a time, which is immediately,” Krantz replied, a fact that seemed to irk her, visibly. “Nevertheless, I have agreed to this meeting. If nothing else, it buys us time.”

  Carter nodded, concurring with the Admiral’s decision. The delay would help them to get more ships combat-ready and to treat more Union soldiers and warship crew with Lyra’s reversion therapy.

  “The God-King will arrive at the outpost in the Solar Barque Mesek-tet, accompanied by seven Khopesh-class destroyer escorts,” Krantz continued. “He will permit the same number of Union vessels to arrive.”

  Carter huffed a laugh. “That’s very charitable of him…”

  “Eight of our ships, even the best ships we have available, are still no match for the Mesek-tet and seven elite Khopesh destroyers,” Carina commented. “We’d need three times that number for it to be equitable.”

  “Apophis could be setting up an ambush,” Carter said, thinking along the same lines as the Master Commander. “Going to the diplomatic outpost is a risk, but it’s one worth taking, and not only to stall for time. I want to hear what the God-King has to say and push his buttons a little, too. I want to keep him angry so he’s not thinking straight.”

  “We can take the Eclipse to the meeting,” Carina suggested. “It’s proven to be a solid little ship, and it only requires us four Master Officers to crew it.”

  “Is the Eclipse in a suitable condition after it crashed in Eastsea?” Krantz asked.

  “It wasn’t a crash. It was a tactical combat landing!” Amaya called out from the corner of the room. She was on her third margarita.

  Carter rolled his eyes, then addressed the question. “The Eclipse got a little banged up, but it’s nothing serious. She’s in a repair dock in orbit and should be ready when we are. The bigger question is what we take as escorts.”

  Krantz turned to Colonel Whitaker, and the operations director scoured the list of available warships before narrowing the selection to the seven best they had. This included The Dauntless, Admiral Krantz’s old flagship and a battle-hardened war veteran. Added to this were the Vigilant, a new Dauntless II-class battlecruiser, and the Queen Elizabeth, a Lexington-class carrier with a full complement of thirty ZR-10 fighters. Two Medusa-class destroyers made the cut, the Stheno and the Shannon. Both had seen combat, and their crews had performed well. Importantly, they were all inoculated against the Aternien nano-machines.

  Finally, Whitaker added the Freedom, another Gemini-class Corvette, and the Fenrir, a brand new ship, hot off the yard at Terra Three. The Fenrir was an Aegis-class Battlecruiser comparable in combat prowess to a Khopesh. The name of her commander caught Carter’s attention. He glanced at Carina, and it seemed she had spotted it too.

  Captain Kurt Bentley had been part of the Aegis test pilot program. He’d been in command of the X-A2, the ship now designated the Fenrir, when it had been crippled by space debris during a shakedown test. Carina had rescued the vessel and saved her crew. It was shortly after the Master Commander had taken command of the Ascalon and was her first true test. A test she had passed with flying colors.

  “I should note that all of the commanders and bridge officers on these vessels are veterans,” Whitaker added. “Also, their files show no overt animosity toward the post-human Master Officers.

  Carina laughed. “Well, it was nice of you to check.”

  “The escort group is approved,” Krantz said. “But these are some of the best ships we have left and tempting targets for Apophis.”

  “We’ll make sure to keep our distance from the Aterniens and keep our soliton drives spun up,” Carina replied.

  “Very well, assemble the task force and proceed to the diplomatic outpost at once,” the Admiral said, immediately switching her focus to other important matters. “I look forward to your report.”

  Carter and Carina acknowledged the order and stepped away from the SCH table. Despite being half a room away, Brodie and Amaya had heard every word said, and the two officers were on their feet, weapons in hand.