Eury piloted the shuttle out of the hangar, gently maneuvering toward the gas giant below. Nergal’s Watch loomed massive behind her, its sprawling structure no longer seeming friendly, certainly not home anymore.

  Eury took a deep breath and initiated the firing sequence. The shuttle’s main engines powered up, and the vessel shuddered as it began moving away from the space station.

  Eury glanced at the nav panel. Everything looked good. She activated the autopilot and hurried down a corridor to the airlock. The main engine firing would start soon. She donned a spacesuit, not having time to double-check all the seals. She hefted a heavy thruster pack, sliding it onto her back.

  Finished, she moved into the airlock, closing the inner hatch. Soon, the outer hatch cycled open with a hiss. Eury pushed off in the direction of the station and activated the thrusters, using them in controlled bursts.

  Space seemed vast in her suit, with Saturn dominating everything below. Her universe was silent except for her breathing and the occasional beep of the suit’s systems. On her helmet’s HUD, she had the trajectory of the next cargo drone that regularly ferried deuterium and helium-3 from the mining operations to massive storage tanks in low Titan orbit. The fuels were critical to the Enforcers and mobile asteroids readying for their grand mission.

  Then, the shuttle’s main engines engaged, taking the machine down toward the atmosphere. The shuttle quickly dwindled, soon becoming a dot and then disappearing altogether.

  Would the autopilot obey the course she’d plotted? If it didn’t… this might all be for nothing.

  Eury checked the chronometer. Was the cargo drone late? That could be bad. No, out there, in the direction of Titan, the next cargo drone appeared in her field of vision. It was on a steady approach toward Nergal’s Watch.

  Using the proposed trajectory and suit computer, Eury adjusted the thrusters, aligning herself for an intercept course. The drone was big compared to the departed shuttle, but it lacked any life support systems.

  Stay calm. You can do this. It should be easy.

  This was more than simply getting to the drone. She had to time her approach to avoid detection from the station.

  Eury waited as she drifted, letting the drone get closer. Her suit computer beeped. It was time. She gave a long burst from her thrusters, accelerating. The drone closed and then loomed before her. She twisted around and used the thrusters again, slowing herself. In desperation, she twisted once more. This was going to be tricky.

  The hull of the drone was right there before her and rushing faster. Eury crashed against the hull, and would have caromed off, but she used her magnetic boots, having set them at maximum. The boots latched onto the metal hull, securing her in place.

  Eury breathed heavily, frightened and exultant, trembling at her daring. She powered down the boot setting from max to half, and used the magnetized boots to walk along the hull. She stayed out of sight of any external cameras, the drone’s engines vibrating through her suit as she approached an access panel.

  With careful deliberation, she hacked into the drone’s security protocols. The hatch slid up. She slipped inside, sealing the hatch behind her.

  Eury’s breathing was loud in her ears. She found herself in a dimly lit maintenance corridor. Some of the reek of lubricants and metals permeated her helmet, telling her that despite the entry, there was still a little atmosphere inside. She paused, with the reality of her situation pressing down. She was a vagabond, a criminal on the run.

  Unaware of any of this, the drone continued its journey, oblivious to the stowaway.

  Eury made her way to a small compartment, squeezing herself in. She had to remain undetected until the drone reached its destination in the Titan colony. Only then could she try to escape from Chief Marshal Assur’s reach.

  ***

  The automated heavy shuttle, its flight preset by Eury, plunged deeper into Saturn’s atmosphere. As it descended, it passed near Balloon B07. The balloon swayed in the winds, continuing to collect deuterium and helium-3.

  Inside the shuttle, the control panel flashed with warnings as the craft breached the upper layers of Saturn’s atmosphere. The external pressure readings spiked, the digits racing upward.

  The temperature outside soared as the shuttle continued its plunge, passing through layers of thick, swirling clouds composed primarily of hydrogen and helium. The shuttle’s exterior sensors detected traces of ammonia and methane, adding to the chemical cocktail that made Saturn’s atmosphere so hostile.

  Pressure alerts became more frequent and urgent. The automated systems struggled to compensate, adjusting the internal pressure to prevent an immediate collapse. However, as the shuttle descended, the density of the atmosphere increased.

  Warning: the hull integrity is compromised, flashed on the shuttle’s main display.

  The temperature inside began to rise, despite the cooling systems working at full capacity. The atmosphere outside became a swirling maelstrom, the winds reaching speeds that would dwarf the most powerful hurricanes on Earth.

  The shuttle’s descent took it from the Upper Troposphere to the Mid-Troposphere, where the pressure continued to climb. Here, the atmospheric composition included traces of water ice, creating a freezing, high-pressure environment. The structural integrity of the shuttle’s hull was pushed further into the unknown.

  Farther down, the shuttle entered the upper levels of the Lower Troposphere. Here, the pressure was even more intense, and the temperature variations became extreme. The hull began to buckle under the force. Small fissures appeared on the shuttle’s surface, spider-webbing across the reinforced panels. The creaking and groaning metal grew louder.

  “Critical pressure threshold exceeded,” the system announced in a mechanical voice.

  The shuttle’s exterior cameras captured fleeting glimpses of the dense, colorful clouds, painted in shades of yellow, brown, and red by various chemical reactions and sunlight filtering through the thick atmosphere. Lightning storms raged in the distance.

  At that point, the hull could no longer withstand the crushing force. With a deafening crack, the shuttle’s hull imploded as the craft was crushed inward.

  The shuttle became a twisted, mangled mass of metal, sinking deeper into the gas giant. The intense pressures and temperatures broke what remained into smaller and smaller pieces until it was nothing but debris scattered in the thick atmosphere.

  -24-

  The Enkidu, along with the other Enforcers and auxiliary ships, approached Titan.

  After a grueling thirteen-month journey from Earth’s Moon, scarred and battle-worn, the invasion fleet was finally returning home to the Titan colony. They prepared for the last phase of the journey: insertion into low Titan orbit.

  Naram Sin stood on the bridge, staring at the orange-tinged sphere of Titan growing larger on the main screen.

  “Initiate orbital insertion sequence,” he said.

  The Enkidu’s fusion engines expelled brilliant blue plasma as the ship began its last deceleration burn.

  Naram Sin now sat as the G-forces pushed on all of them.

  “All systems green, sir,” the helm officer said.

  The control panel showed data readouts. As the Enkidu neared, Titan’s thick atmosphere became more distinct, with gaps showing the rugged terrain below.

  Then the sensors picked up the activity of the Titan Space Yards—a network of skeletal docks, shipyards, and storage tanks. Among them were three, one-kilometer-long, modified asteroids. There were also new Enforcers, various support ships, and many drones moving among them.

  “Approaching target altitude,” the helm officer announced.

  Naram Sin nodded. “Prepare for final insertion burn.”

  The ship’s thrusters ignited once more, adjusting the Enkidu’s angle and speed for the final approach. The temperature outside the hull rose slightly as it encountered Titan’s exosphere, the outermost layer of its thick atmosphere.

  “Final burn… now,” the helm officer said.

  The Enkidu’s engines fired in synchronization, gently easing the 100,000-ton spaceship into its designated orbit. The plasma streams flickered and then ceased, leaving the vessel gliding smoothly in low Titan orbit.

  “Orbital insertion is complete.”

  The Enkidu moved with the other Enforcers, mobile asteroids, and support vessels stationed around Titan. With its journey over, the warship began the docking procedures. Massive docking arms extended from a skeletal structure, guiding the Enkidu into position.

  As the ship approached its designated repair berth, automated systems engaged, aligning the Enkidu with docking clamps. Soon, a metallic clank reverberated as the clamps secured the ship. That noise was heard inside the Enkidu, not outside.

  Naram Sin watched all this through the main screen as he swallowed uneasily. It was time to begin what might be the hardest part of the journey.

  ***

  In seconds, Naram Sin’s armpits were soaked with sweat as his stomach twisted. He stood before the main screen on the bridge of the Enkidu, with many of the most important officers in attendance. They had talked this over for days. If it failed now, he was likely a dead man.

  He was attempting a tricky, chess-like maneuver against the colony’s most skilled opponent. It was nerve-racking to say the least. Naram Sin wasn’t a political veteran, but he had to do something. Baal and Sardu were dead, slain by Father Wolf. Naram Sin couldn’t afford to do nothing; otherwise, he would end up like them.

  Group Leader Tiglath cleared his throat.

  Naram Sin glanced at the stocky space marine.

  Tiglath gave him an encouraging nod.

  Naram Sin gave him a sickly smile in return. He had allies on the flagship and in the former invasion fleet. Could they stand against Chief Marshal Assur? No one else had been able to before. That didn’t matter, though. This was now. This was the moment to act.

  Naram Sin nodded to the comm officer to switch on the screen.

  The man did.

  “Hello, Titan Colony,” Naram Sin said in a scratchy voice. He paused, then spoke with more authority.

  “We have arrived home, docking in the space yard. I am happy to inform you that we have brought back most of the material we had upon leaving, though not the ammunition that we used against the enemy. We damaged them to a degree, taking out their huge missile supply.

  “Chief Marshal Assur may have already told you about that victory. Unfortunately, we faced a deadly setback when treacherous Earthers destroyed the mass drivers. It was a vile maneuver on their part. But they succeeded. Now, I am sickened to inform you that there has been a strange political assassination aboard the Enkidu. I have not said anything until now because I wanted to tell you, the people of the Titan colony, the Elder Board, and Chief Marshal Assur, as well as Security Chief Vaul.

  “Marshal Baal and former Security Chief Sardu were assassinated by a political asset on our ship. After the assassin committed these grisly murders, he was slain in turn by this—”

  Naram Sin held up a tiny piece of equipment. The comm officer zoomed in on it.

  “This is an electronic device,” Naram Sin said. “It was lodged beside Father Wolf’s heart. After he slew our noble officers, the device sparked, triggering a massive heart attack that killed the assassin. Father Wolf was a priest of An’Kar and once my good friend. You see, I knew him well before we left Titan. He was a gentle soul who would never have committed such a heinous crime. Instead, someone or some force planted hypnotic commands in his mind before we left Titan. I am sorry to tell you this. However, it means someone amongst us committed the heinous deed for foul purposes.”

  Naram Sin stared intently into the screen. “I call upon Chief Marshal Assur, as the defender of the people, to discover who did this and tell us so it will never happen again.”

  Naram Sin paused, as he was about to plunge into dangerous territory. Could they make this stick? If they couldn’t—

  Naram Sin’s head twitched as he plunged headlong. “With the murder of Marshal Baal, I am now the acting marshal over the invasion fleet. I have not taken this charge lightly. The soldiers that you entrusted to bring victory to the Valiants have voted on it and stand behind me. Ninety-eight percent of them said yes. A few did not agree, and I support their right to disagree. But the others have said I must represent them.

  “To you, the people on Titan, I send this message so that you may know I have no ulterior motives, nothing underhanded. I come to you, the people. I am Naram Sin. Some know me as a chess master. I am honored that the crews of the fleet have entrusted me with this grave responsibility. It is a heavy burden, but I hope to follow whoever becomes the new leader of the next invasion fleet. Whether it is the Chief Marshal himself, I am most happy to serve under him and obey his orders.

  “We, the people, must remain united at all costs. Yet I say to the people, we must not let the underhanded murders of Marshal Baal and former Security Chief Sardu, who laid down their lives to fight for us, go unpunished.

  “It is with a heavy heart I impart this terrible news to the colony. Chief Marshal Assur, I know you will want to find the real killers. Thus, I am ready, sir, to meet you in several hours so we may discuss the best way to handle this dire situation.”

  Naram Sin squared his broad shoulders and saluted before saying, “Acting Marshal Naram Sin out.”

  -25-

  Chief Marshal Assur listened to the broadcast in his office. He was working when his secretary sent him an alert over the intercom. He switched on a screen and listened with growing fury to such pompous crap. Who did this Chess Master think he was?

  He’s setting himself up against me.

  Assur raised a fist and pounded his desk three times, each hammering blow harder than the last. When he finished, he gasped in shock because his stomach twisted. Then he cried out in agony and collapsed, his head, shoulders, and arms resting on top of the desk. He lay there like a fish drawn from the sea, gasping for breath.

  “I don’t want to die,” he whispered. Assur gathered himself and said more loudly, “Please don’t let me die. Help me, someone help me.”

  The intercom system did not come on. His secretary beyond the shielding wall did not know what was happening, nor did Security Chief Vaul put in an appearance.

  Instead, Assur lay rigid on the desk, his stomach churned. Then he screamed in agony. Unfortunately, he had long ago soundproofed his office so that he could do as he wished in here. He had done this because others had heard when he had killed his mother and Acolyte Damkina. Was this vengeance for that?

  Assur groaned and gasped, fighting to suck down air.

  That bastard, the Chess Master, was challenging him directly. His aged body, which had lasted so long, was now betraying him at this critical moment.

  Assur wept bitter tears. If he could ever get out of this—

  Hang on. Hang on, Assur told himself.

  He endured the agony, and bit by bit, his breathing became easier. Finally, he managed to lift his tortured frame, leaning back against the chair. His head lolled to the side, but he didn’t crash onto the floor. He breathed more deeply.

  Then, by degrees, he rose and staggered to a cabinet. There was medicine in it he hadn’t used for some time. He opened a bottle, shook out two pills, and dry swallowed them. He could feel the pills lodged in his throat. But he gulped, gasped, and forced them down.

  He needed a drink of water, but he was sitting in his chair again, enduring, breathing, and wondering what to do. Would the Chess Master win by default now? Could that sly bastard of a former aide have understood that such a challenge would cause this?

  Then he must think me weak.

  Assur ground his teeth. While my body may be weak, my brain is better than ever. I am the father of the Valiant race. Without me, they will never accomplish what needs to be done.

  Assur gathered his resolve, and with that and the two powerful pills, animation returned to his body.

  He stood, turned, staggered to a cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of water. He guzzled it, gasped, and guzzled more. He needed this.

  Then he hurried to the closet bathroom and—

  “Oh,” he said. His piss was bloody. This was terrible and grotesque.

  Assur snarled after zipping up, staring at his drawn face in the mirror. “I will live and destroy those who challenge me.”

  He staggered back to his desk and worked on looking as normal as possible. Only after what seemed like an eternity—had it been an hour, two hours since the challenging message?—did he press the intercom button.

  “Yes, Chief Marshal,” the secretary said.

  “Send Security Chief Vaul here at once.”

  “Yes, Chief Marshal.”

  Assur sat back, gasping for air, trying to make himself feel well enough to plan with Vaul.

  -26-

  Vaul arrived in the outer office sooner than Chief Marshal Assur had expected. Vaul entered quietly, as the secretary looked up from her desk.

  She was older, no longer in the first flush of youth but rather in her early 40s. She still had good looks, though her husband had died many years ago. She had worked for Chief Marshal Assur for years and had become exceedingly lonely, particularly for the company of a strong man.

  As Vaul entered, he gave her a searching look. It was due to the way she stared at him. Vaul had discovered her loneliness after routine security checks. This had happened almost a year ago.

  Perhaps six months ago, a daring and outrageous plan had grown in Security Chief Vaul. He dared it because he noticed streaks of pain in Assur’s face from time to time. The Chief Marshal was weakening. Vaul, in his secretive, quiet, and careful heart, wondered if he shouldn’t reach for supreme power. Or if not that, then he could become the kingmaker of the next leader.

  It was a heady thought. To secure it, he began a slow, careful campaign with the secretary. He had stopped at her desk occasionally and had lingering talks with her when he left the Chief Marshal’s office.