“I want you to come back to me, Alisa.”

“I'm scared.”

“That's fine. I'm scared, too,” Rin whispered, clutching Alisa more tightly to her. Warmth spread from Rin's psychic body into her partner's. The color slowly returned to Alisa's face; ashen gray was saturated with life and love as Rin poured soothing thoughts and positive emotion through the link between them.

“I need you, Alisa. You're my everything. Without you, I wouldn't be able to keep on living. Please, don't leave me!”

Violet eyes squeezed shut, releasing sparkling spheres into the void.

“Stay with me forever!”

[-]

More Stories by Corinn Heathers

[-]

Binary System

Binary System: Deneb

The Queen of Ruin

Midnight’s Blossom

Dawn of a New Astral Age

bound together

dimension fracture

rebirth disconnect

celestial paradigm

dawn integration

Binary System: Sirius

[-]

Corinn Heathers

Binary System: Sirius

copyright © 2018 by Corinn Heathers

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without express written permission from the copyright holders, with the exception of short excerpts for review purposes.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and situations are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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about the author

01

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the apartment's main room, Rin beheld a rather spectacular view of Nexus City. Their quarters were on the twenty-second floor, high above the curtain barriers that maintained atmosphere within the Market Block.

From this height, it's almost impossible to see the squalid conditions on the street itself, Rin mused. Upon their arrival, she was appalled at the awful state of the poorest and most downtrodden members of this strange fringe society. After spending two weeks in this place, Rin was no less horrified. Sara may have called this place a “free” city, but Rin still didn't understand why that was desirable. “Freedom” from the Alliance’s rule seemed to only bring poverty, misery and suffering to the people who lived here.

Citizens of the Sol Alliance were well-cared for by their government. The Administrative Council maintained an efficient resource-distribution system that determined the needs of each individual settlement and apportioned them accordingly. Citizen outreach and sophisticated predictive algorithms ensured that each demographic was matched well with qualified local administrators.

She knew that in the distant past, before the Gray invasion that had irrevocably altered human destiny, people would organize along social and political beliefs and select their representatives by vote. Prospective candidates would leverage their resources and the resources of their supporters to do electoral battle with their opponents. It was a time when politics often became a dangerous game of intrigue, subterfuge and lies—all carefully calculated to sway the public.

Rin pressed her hand against the transparent window plating and felt the cold chill of near-vacuum seep through the pane. If the democratic republics of old were systems of subtle manipulation hidden beneath an illusion of choice, the “government” of Avernus's largest population center was the purest form of brutal social Darwinism. The strongest and the most cunning survived, even thrived, while everyone else was left to wither away in the slime-coated gutters or, more likely, exploited for the benefit of the powerful.

Hungry, desperate people seemed to be everywhere. This had been a completely new and disturbing experience for Rin. Poverty and crime were essentially foreign concepts. Every citizen received a generous basic income from the government and many others plied a trade that brought in even more money. The average citizen contributed voluntarily to their local community, and even those who had trouble integrating socially had many options. The rare individuals who were truly dangerous were kept away from the public in carefully managed secure facilities, where they could live out the remainder of their lives without placing others at risk.

“There are so many,” Rin observed in a troubled tone.

“So many what?”

Rin turned away from the window and fixed violet eyes on her newest companion, a freelancer named Sara Loewe. The door sealed behind her as she walked into the small living room area and sat down on the couch. Sara reached into a plastic bag and drew out an unmarked bottle containing some sort of alcoholic beverage.

“Want one?”

Rin shook her head, scowling at the woman’s obvious dismissal of her concerns.

“Suit yourself.”

“There are so many people suffering,” Rin insisted. “Why would anyone choose to come here, to leave the prosperity of the Alliance?”

“The answer is that they didn't choose at all,” Sara replied as she popped the lid on the questionable bottle. Rin wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of Sara's drink. To say it was pungent would be putting it mildly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean most of the people here were born into this misery.” Sara took a long pull on her drink, her lips puckering tightly as if she'd tasted something intensely sour. “It's the same anywhere. You don't choose where, when and to whom you're born to, after all.”

Rin's expression became pensive. “Why would they not join the Alliance?”

“Those with the means to do so wouldn’t want to. They're satisfied with existing in this brutal world where they reap the luxuries of being on top of the heap. The petty overlords and crime bosses would find Alliance oversight stifling, to say the least.”

“I went for a walk earlier today, through the marketplace.” Rin's eyes were downcast. “Even the ones working their stalls looked as if they wouldn't live to see their first century of life. I wish I could help them…”

Sara was more than a little surprised to see Rin's eyes glimmering with unshed tears. She raised a single dark eyebrow. “That's not something you see every day.”

“What isn't?”

“You.”

Rin blinked, confused. “What about me?”

“I never thought I'd see the day where an AI would actually have more sympathy and feel more sadness for the sake of humans than most humans do.” Sara upended her bottle and drained the last vestiges of the smelly drink. “All we ever hear is how dangerous artificial intelligence can be, how we have to handle the technology with the utmost care to make sure it doesn't go out of control. Then here you are, the most advanced AI in the known universe with absolutely no restrictions placed upon your behavior… and you're getting all worked up over a bunch of poor trash on the streets of Nexus City.”

“They aren't trash,” Rin objected, her eyes narrowing sharply. “They're just desperate, lost, afraid, lonely. They could do a lot better if their environment wasn't so bleak.”

“I've worked out of the City for almost two decades. Maybe at one point I felt the same way, but I don’t think so.” Sara shrugged and leaned back into the plush couch cushions. “They're invisible to me now—just like the garbage scattered across the streets.”

Rin glared at her erstwhile companion. “How can you say something like that?”

“After a while, you just have to accept it.” The mercenary drew her modified TCC from one of the dozens of pockets studding her jacket and tapped it awake, paging through her messages. “Well, maybe you don't, but the ordinary human mind has no choice but to adapt or break down when constantly exposed to so much evil. A pure heart like you wouldn't last a month on the streets of Nexus before she was forced to stain her soul.”

Rin glared at the woman. “And you did?”

“I wasn't exactly ‘pure’ to begin with.” Sara's voice trailed off in such a way that told Rin the woman would be unwilling to continue this line of questioning. She continued to sift through the data on her TCC for several silent minutes before abruptly standing up.

“Our smuggler came through.” Sara's grim expression vanished, replaced with a smile that seemed to contain more enthusiasm than was warranted. “He’s ready to deal.”

“Oh?” Rin still had no idea why Sara was so personally interested in Alisa and the enigmatic mercenary didn't seem to be too interested in elaborating. It was something Rin would have to remain vigilant about. “Then this should be all the parts to repair Alisa's implant?”

Sara nodded. “Yeah. These kind of things are restricted tech under Alliance law, so definitely not easy to come by. I'm supposed to meet the dealer at a tavern on the edge of Market Block; he's reserved a private room in the back. Should be a quick and easy exchange and then I can get to work on your lady.”

“Take me with you,” Rin insisted.

Sara arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just to be on the safe side.” She flexed her right hand into a fist. “I may not look like it, but I can hold my own in a fight. You said these components are valuable and difficult to obtain. What if someone tries to rob you?”

“Fair enough point,” Sara conceded as she checked her pistol. The bulky weapon was an older model of linear accelerator, firing a heavier and slower projectile than the type currently in use by the Alliance military and security forces. Rin could make out tool marks and detect minute differences in the age of the finish on certain parts—like almost everything out here on the fringes, the weapon was well-used and had been continually repaired over the years.

“You should get dressed. Are you sure you'll be okay coming with me? I don't have another gun I can give you—and besides, if we're too well-armed, our friend might get a little jumpy.”

“He’s not my friend.” Rin shrugged as she walked to the door that led to her bedroom. “Don’t worry about me. I'll be okay.”

“Fine.” Sara grunted as she drew her sidearm experimentally, practicing with the specialized holster's quick-release mechanism. In such close quarters, a quick snapshot, even hastily aimed, could mean the difference between life and death.

Forsaking further conversation, Rin turned away from Sara and walked into the apartment's tiny little bedroom. It wasn't much larger than the cabin she and Alisa shared on the Infiltrator and lacked amenities. The room was almost empty, save for a small dresser for clothing and a cheap bed made of some sort of fibrous plastic composite.

In that bed lay Alisa, looking as if she were merely asleep—but she had been unconscious for weeks now.

Rin turned to focus on her unresponsive partner, a feeling of indescribable sadness washing through Rin's mind. Alisa’s consciousness was apparently still locked away within her own mind, a self-imposed exile in order to protect herself from the mental trauma of both Lindy's death and the abrupt severing of her link with Rin.

“Hi, love,” Rin murmured as she sat on the edge of the bed. Delicate pale fingertips brushed against Alisa's forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin. Outwardly Alisa looked peaceful and free of pain, at least. “We finally found someone who can provide all of the parts to fix your implant. We're going to go meet up with them tonight and complete the transaction.”

Alisa didn't respond, couldn't respond, but Rin kept talking.

“Once Sara repairs your implant, then I'll be able to talk to you again, to hear you again,” she whispered, her voice breaking just slightly. “I hope I'll be able to wake you up soon.”

“Hurry up, Rin! We have to leave in five minutes!”

Rin ignored Sara's impatient shout, instead leaning down to kiss Alisa softly, strands of black hair cascading around her face. “We'll be together again soon, love. I know it's got to be unbearable for you, trapped within yourself, unable to hear my voice or touch my mind. I feel it, too—I've never felt so lonely, so lost.”

Her expression hardened with grim determination.

“No matter what happens, we'll be together again. I promise.”

[-]

An hour later, Rin wrinkled her nose in disgust as she followed Sara through the battered steel door leading into the tavern. It was like walking into a cloud of vice; the place was filled with such a haze of intoxicant-laden smoke that Rin was forced to rely on her extended visual modes in order to make her way through the tightly-packed establishment.

The regulars didn't seem to mind the befouled air, though, nor did they seem to have any trouble navigating the cramped confines. Sara didn't seem to notice, either, but she did pick up on the obvious distaste twisting Rin’s expression.

“Stop making that face. Also, don’t make eye contact with anyone,” Sara whispered, her voice almost lost beneath the low roar of conversation. “Just follow by my side. Let me do the talking.”

Rin nodded silently and followed close by Sara's side, simply observing her surroundings. She could make out snippets of conversations—most of them were mundane complaints about work or the lack thereof. Crude sexual remarks came in as a close second, generally aimed at the scantily-clad serving staff.

One of the servers walked past Rin and flashed her a seductive smile, but it was obvious even to her that the gesture was forced. These people were suffering, too. The bronzed, well-muscled chest of the server/courtesan was bare and tattooed with shifting, color-changing patterns of sinuous lines. This person, like the other members of staff in this den of iniquity, were merely decorative objects intended to be consumed.

As they weaved their way through the crammed establishment, Rin stiffened as she watched one of the customers, a burly man in a spacer's jumpsuit, reach out and grab a small woman by the wrist. He wrenched it hard and yanked her toward him, causing her to fall into his lap. The spacer and his companions burst into uproarious laughter.

Rin tensed, her eyes narrowing sharply.

“Don't even think about it,” Sara warned. “You’ll just make things worse for her. If you stand up for her, she'll be lucky if she only gets fired.”

Rin forced herself to relax, at least outwardly, but continued to keep an eye on the situation. The girl's wrist was likely sprained and twisted, but she didn't so much as cry out in pain, nor did she protest as the spacer's thick fingers seized her backside and dug in viciously. All Rin could hear was mocking laughter.

“This is wrong,” Rin murmured.

“Yep. It sure is.”

Sara took Rin's hand and led her toward the rear of the tavern, where several private rooms were set up with locked doors. Rin could hear unmistakable sounds from behind the thin fiberglass barriers. She did her best to ignore them, sublimating the disgust and indignation that was currently roiling within the very roots of her being.

“This is the place.” Sara reached out and tapped a six-digit passcode into one of the ancient access panels. Rin gawked at the thing, having never seen a door lock with a numeric keypad. The old door slid open anemically on a magnetic track that seemed to be struggling with an unstable power supply.

Sara went in first with Rin following close behind. The small room stank of stale smoke, old sweat and various other bodily fluids. It had a wide, somewhat shabby-looking bed nestled in one corner. A large table dominated the other half of the room, fitted with a complex apparatus that Rin suspected was used to imbibe some sort of drug.

“Our contact should be here in a few minutes,” Sara said, taking her seat at the table. She tapped a key on the surface that caused the hookah to retract within a hidden compartment in the table's wide cylindrical support. “Sit tight for now.”

Rin jerked in surprise as a very loud thump echoed from the room next to theirs. Angry voices, indistinct through the poorly sound-dampened walls, came next, followed by what sounded like a very young person crying out in pain.

“Don't get too worked up about it. The bouncers will break it up. If you take matters into your own hands, beat a customer up, the bouncers will throw us out, and we'll miss our contact. Not to mention you'll probably have to kill all of them to make them stop.”

“This is wrong, Sara,” Rin growled. “This whole place is wrong! I can't believe people can so casually treat others with this level of cruelty and utter lack of concern!”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Sara glared at Rin sharply, the woman's patience starting to grow thin. “Your precious Alliance won't help these people. They're the garbage the rest of humanity doesn't want and so they turn a blind eye. These people have to survive the best they can on this floating hell-ball in space.”

“How can you be so cavalier about this?” Rin demanded.

Sara snorted derisively and crossed her arms over her chest. “The Alliance considers any settlement that isn't under its control to be irrelevant at best. These people are stuck, but the Alliance won't commit forces to take Avernus or any of the other dozens of 'pirate colonies.' They rationalize, they make excuses, but the truth is they don't want to help these people.”

“I can't accept that.” Rin's expression was defensive. “We have to focus our energies on fighting the Gray—”

“That's just their excuse,” Sara interrupted as she drew out a bottle of whiskey from the private room's minibar. Unscrewing the bottle, she filled a tumbler full of the smoky booze and took a healthy swallow. “You have, or at least had access to fleet deployments. There are entire battle groups that are just sitting around, ‘defending' systems that Command damn well knows the Gray would never attack. Even just a tiny fraction of the Alliance's strength would be enough to crush the criminal elements that rule Avernus and turn this place around. But they won't do it.”

“What?” Rin looked aghast. “Why won't the Alliance help these people?”

“Because they're more useful this way,” Sara replied, her voice thick with disgust. “By leaving the free colonies to their own devices, the inner territories have a villain to point fingers at. Most people outside the military will never even see a Gray vessel. They don’t usually attack civilian vessels. To keep the administrated colonies in line, the top brass need a different threat that's a little closer to home.”

Rin scowled and attempted to formulate an objection, but she found that she could not. Sara's words rang with uncomfortable truth.

“That isn’t even counting the folks who profit from the whole arrangement,” Sara continued relentlessly on. “By publicly denouncing unaffiliated ‘pirate colonies,’ the Administrative Council gets to have its cake and eat it, too. The government doesn't recognize them as settlements, instead portraying them as the hideouts of evildoers who are committing a grave crime against humanity by drawing strength away from the war effort. People look the other way while the rich and powerful in the Alliance profit even further by exploiting slave labor and obtaining illicit goods.”

“This can't possibly be that widespread.” Rin's eyes were wide in horror, having never before considered such a possibility. She only now began to truly appreciate just how sheltered she had been, immersed so completely in the military microcosm of the battlefront. “There's no way something like this could remain hidden if it were extensive.”

“No, you're right. It's not that widespread,” Sara agreed, “but it's still enough to cause millions of people to suffer. There are only a dozen or so large pirate colonies throughout the Alliance's territory. Like I said, it would be relatively simple for the Alliance to clean this mess up and help all of these desperate people.”

“But there are enough wealthy and powerful people benefiting from the status quo that nothing will be done about it,” Rin reasoned, “and those individuals would have to give much and gain comparatively little in return.”

“Correct.”

Rin sat down next to Sara and gave her companion a steady look. “I understand the situation. I don't understand why someone would do such a thing, would inflict such terrible pain upon people for their own gain.”

“I hope you never understand it.” Sara glanced at her TCC and frowned. “Looks like our man's here. He's making his way through the tavern. Just sit next to me; don't talk, don't ask questions, don’t do anything. Unless things get violent.”

“Understood.”

The door to the private room unsealed and haltingly slid open. A thin man with a nervous demeanor walked through the door, glancing behind him as it closed and locked behind him. Rin studied the smuggler, an extremely tall human with willowy limbs that seemed somewhat grotesque, considerably longer than the human baseline. A quick analysis of the man's proportions told her that he'd likely been born and raised on a low-gravity world.

No wonder he's nervous, Rin mused to herself. Avernus was a high-gravity world, nearly half again above the Terran baseline. She could have detected a difference much more subtle than that, but her body was unbothered by the increased gravitational force. It had to be incredibly hard on this man, for instead of the usual spacer's jumpsuit, the slender man wore what looked like a scaled-down, lighter version of the powered exo-suits used by Alliance marines in high-gravity environments. That explained how he managed to walk normally even in gravity much stronger than he was accustomed to.

“Are you Sara Loewe? Who is this person with you? I wasn't expecting to meet anyone else here besides Sara Loewe.”

Sara nodded to the smuggler. “Yes. This is my bodyguard. Her name is unimportant. I apologize for not informing you ahead of time, but the City is a dangerous place, especially for one carrying such valuable items.”

“Fair enough,” the thin man agreed. “Bodyguard, huh? She looks real weak and small to me. Like a pretty little doll—you ever think of putting her in something nicer, really show off that exotic pale skin?”

“Oh, she's far more deadly than she appears—which, of course, is the entire point of having a hidden blade, no?” Sara chuckled lightly, but sent an urgent glance at Rin, telling her in no uncertain terms not to react outwardly, no matter how lewd the smuggler's comments became. The fringe troubleshooter tucked a loose lock of mahogany-colored hair behind her right ear. “Regardless, my bodyguard is irrelevant to our discussion. I trust you brought the items?”

“R-right here.”

The smuggler placed a sealed case on the table and unlatched the locking mechanism, swinging it open. Rin examined the contents of the case, recognizing several top-of-the-line components used for brain-computer interfaces of various types. All of them appeared to be fresh from the factory, their sterile plastic seals intact.

“Looks like it's all here,” Sara commented as she examined the parts. Each of the components were current generation implant tech, directly analogous to the components used by the Advanced Starfighter Corps. Rin could tell from the parts present that Alisa's implant would be more efficient than it'd ever been. Her original implant was an older model, installed seven years ago, back when Rin had first been created—

Only seven years?

Rin frowned. Her recollection once again ran up against that strange and cold wall that demarcated her sealed memory blocks. Seven years. That was right, wasn't it? Alisa had enlisted with the Fleet seven years ago, when she was eighteen years old.

Hadn't she?

That was what Rin knew, but it felt somehow wrong. There was something missing. Something didn’t quite make sense. In the days after she and Sara had arrived in Nexus City, Rin hadn't had time to consider the inaccessible blocks. Now that the situation had cooled somewhat, the increasingly human-like manner in which her mind functioned slammed uncomfortably against that very inorganic denial of access.

Rin turned her attention back to the deal itself. The thin man opened a smaller case that Sara had kept in one of her jacket's endless pockets. Rin already knew what was inside the small box—a pair of tiny memory modules that contained navigation data for several resource-rich star systems that lay between the Gray's territory and the galactic core.

The thin man pulled out a very old and battered large form-factor TCC, slotting the two memory cards into its card reader. The reader wasn't actually a part of the original device, but fastened to the back with epoxy and metal tape. Age-yellowed wires trailed from the reader and entered a hole cut haphazardly into the tab's external casing. After a few moments spent studying the screen, the thin man nodded, satisfied.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Loewe.” The smuggler took the memory modules back out and replaced them in the small padded box, stowing it away in a pocket hidden behind his exo-suit's chest plate. Sara closed the component case and sealed it shut, watching the smuggler warily as he trudged his way to the minibar.

He shrugged when both Sara and Rin fixed him with curious stares.

“I paid for this room for an hour.” The thin man pulled out a bottle of some glowing, phosphorescent liquor and uncorked it with a bland smile. “Might as well get my money's worth, yeah?”

02

It was difficult for Rin to look at Alisa in this state, but she forced herself to watch the operation as it took place. Sara's hands worked with the ease of long experience, and before long Alisa's implant socket was exposed. The connector itself looked to be in good physical condition, albeit coated in a thin film of blood. With a pair of slender-jawed forceps, Sara drew out the first section of the damaged pair-link implant.

“This part is wrecked, but the QEC bits are undamaged.” Sara explained each step as she worked, anticipating Rin’s worried questions before they came. The blood-smeared piece of overloaded electronics went into an alcohol bath to clean it off. “Get that case with the parts we got from the smuggler.”

Rin handed Sara the small sealed metal case. The woman opened it up and selected several components, stripping their factory packaging off and dropping them into their own alcohol baths, just to be on the safe side. The components should have been sterile as they were still sealed, but Rin couldn't fault Sara for wanting to be absolutely sure.

“I'm glad the transceiver isn't damaged,” Rin said as she cleared objects off of the suite's small desk in order to make room. She spread out a thick anti-static mat, creating a work surface where Sara could disassemble the implant's logic section and replace the fried components.

“Likewise. That's not something you can just replace if it breaks.” Sara removed the logic section and placed it on the mat, adjusting the angle of the desk lamp to shine directly on the part. The small bit of electronics was about three centimeters long and shaped like a staggered, irregular cone. Now that the blood had been washed away, Rin could see discolorations on the outer casing, and something else—several near-microscopic fractures in the casing.

“Can these parts be fixed?”

Sara nodded despite Rin's dubious look. “Yeah. The parts that would have gotten wrecked would be the controller and the casing. The rest should be fine—they all run at higher voltages and were shielded from the discharge. The casing cracks are from the heat, probably.”

“How does the socket look?” Rin inquired.

“It's completely fine. Well, the composites are a little discolored, but that won't affect performance at all. Now stop bothering me.”

Rin stood up, letting her gaze linger on Alisa for a long moment. Sara had injected the woman with an anesthetic before opening up the implant socket. A quick analysis clearly showed a difference in Alisa's vital signs now that she was truly unconscious. Rin's initial assessment was right in that her partner wasn't comatose at all, but was instead somehow dissociated completely from external stimuli.

Not having anything else to occupy herself with, Rin walked toward the window overlooking the Market Block. Her gaze was unfocused; she wasn't truly looking out at the squalid city below, her focus directed inward. If Sara managed to repair Alisa's implant, it would fall to Rin to bring the woman back into the world.

The fringe troubleshooter promised that once Alisa woke up, she would explain the rest of the situation and they would leave Avernus behind, heading to another bolt-hole to plan their next move. There was nothing left for Rin to do but wait.

[-]

The apartment's bath was large enough to accommodate two or more people at once and deep enough to immerse up to one's shoulders. As Alisa was still unable to control her own body, Rin only filled the tub with a dozen centimeters of water so that she'd be unable to slip beneath the surface.

“There, doesn't that feel nice? I'm sure you're very itchy,” Rin murmured aloud as she worked moisturizing wash through the loose reddish-brown curls. She hummed a slow, gentle tune aloud as she washed weeks of sweat and grime from her partner's hair. The pair-linking implant that joined the two together had been repaired and reactivated. Twenty minutes ago, Sara rebooted the system and powered on the interface controller, allowing the tiny QE transceiver to reestablish the neural link between Alisa and Rin.

Now that the two were connected once again, Rin had expected Alisa to start showing some sign of awareness, but this didn't happen. She remained optimistic, however, and resolved to give it some more time. Through their link, Rin could feel a neutral active signal that remained perfectly flat, indicating that despite the connections, there was still something blocking Alisa from communicating with her counterpart.

Lifting a cup filled with water, Rin dumped it slowly over Alisa's head, rinsing the soap from her hair. Slender, pale fingers applied a thick and rich conditioning lotion. That lovely mass of red curls was one of Alisa's major points of pride when it came to her physical appearance and she always seemed to fuss over it. It was left up to Rin to honor those preferences.

“I'm going to get you all cleaned up and dried off, and then we'll go curl up together on the couch, snuggle up under the blankets.” Rin smiled and took up a scrubbing sponge to wash the rest of Alisa's body. Fortunately the woman's limbs were loose, her muscles relaxed and easily manipulated. Moving slowly and carefully, Rin ran the sponge over the long, jagged scar that ran down the center of her partner's chest. That old wound's remnant still stood out, starkly white against Alisa's tawny-brown complexion.

Despite her outward good cheer, Rin was wracked with anxiety that sent her processors slamming up against their maximum throughput as she analyzed and re-analyzed everything that had happened up to this point. She had no idea how to even begin the task of waking Alisa up. The neural link may have been reestablished, but Rin couldn't communicate with her partner if Alisa couldn't send her own thoughts through.

“There, let's get you out of there, now,” Rin murmured as she activated the drain and let the tub empty out. She tapped the control panel and activated the blowers, holding Alisa's body upright so that the warm blasts of air would dry her skin completely. “Sara left for a meeting with that Jean person. I doubt that anyone who has any sort of power or authority in this awful place could ever be trustworthy. To be honest, love, I'm a little worried.”

Alisa, of course, did not respond, but Rin kept talking as she easily lifted her partner up and out of the bath.

“I mean, nobody in the Alliance has any idea where we are, and the people who tried to kidnap us don't know where we are, either… but the longer we stay in one place, the more likely we're going to get found out.”

Rin carried Alisa into the main room of the apartment and nestled her gently into the plush, overstuffed couch. She didn't bother with clothing—the room was perfectly comfortable temperature-wise. Rin herself was still dressed, just in case she had to leave the room, wearing a pair of plain black leggings and a thin fitted top. A jacket similar to the sort Sara wore was draped over the back cushion of the couch. Her feet were bare, having pulled off her boots earlier.

Grasping the blanket folded up on the couch in both hands, Rin shook it out and draped it across Alisa's body and then slipped under the fluffy cover herself. The remote for the holo-display was sitting on a nearby coffee table; Rin picked it up and powered the display on, sifting through the available titles.

“We've never seen this one, love,” she said. “It looks interesting, doesn't it? Let's watch it together.”

Rin nestled in more closely against her partner, draping her arm over Alisa's shoulder, but there was no response. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing slow and regular, but Rin wasn't about to let herself get discouraged. The lights in the main room dimmed as the two-dimensional holo-display began to play the selected video.

Alisa would wake up. Rin would make sure of it.

[-]

Knuckles rapped sharply on the transparent plating. A heavily-tattooed person of indeterminate gender looked up, scowling beneath their heavy cloak. Sara did not react at all to the desk clerk's appearance—she'd seen much wilder and more flamboyant forms of body art on a daily basis here in the City. The clerk stared silently at her for nearly a minute before growling out something indecipherable but seemed like a threat.

The fringe troubleshooter's eyes narrowed menacingly. “Don't fuck with me today. I'm not in the mood. You already know who I am and that Jean called me here today.”

The clerk let out a snort. “Bah, whatever! I'll have my fun if I want to. Head through the back, Loewe, and take the express lift to the penthouse.”

“I know where to go,” Sara snapped.

The clerk only laughed.

Sara straightened her shoulders and stepped through the heavy door leading deeper into the arcology spire's interior. This particular building was one of the smaller spires in the City, but it was wholly owned and operated by Jean and his organization, the Red Claw syndicate. The somewhat ridiculous name was just another facet of Jean's outrageous personality, but the gang itself was feared and respected.

The express lift doors slid open and Sara stepped inside. For the past few years, she'd worked for the Red Claw, fleeing from those who wanted her dead. Jean and his people of course took advantage of her desperation, but the man truly valued her skills. With a top-notch cyberware expert on his staff, Jean had been able to surpass his competitors in several areas of the illicit economy. He hadn't been all that pleased when she chose to leave the syndicate and go independent.

Their recent reunion had been amicable, at least. Sara was more than a little suspicious of just how hospitable he had been since she'd returned. She'd already met with him twice in the past few weeks, lavishing her with fine food and drink, offering her a number of small tasks that were compensated all out of proportion with their difficulty. It was only blindingly obvious he was trying to woo her back into resuming her old position in the syndicate.

Bands of light and dark flashed past Sara's vision as the tube shot upward with dizzying speed. Jean's private sanctum and office dominated the entire penthouse level. The sixtieth floor of the arcology spire was completely off-limits to all but the highest-ranked members of the Red Claw.

“Perhaps I should feel flattered he still thinks so highly of me,” Sara muttered aloud, glancing meaningfully at the hidden camera that was not so well hidden. Jean would most likely find her remark amusing.

At the rate the lift was ascending, it took less than a minute before the module started to slow and came to a stop, the indicator holo displaying “60F” in glowing red letters. The doors slid open and Sara stepped out into the spacious lobby.

Jean's inner sanctum was dominated by beautifully polished slabs of some sort stone native to Avernus. The black matrix was shot through with wisps of blood-red inclusions. Off-white walls were softly lit by wrought-metal sconces, illuminating the reception area with a foreboding glow. Sara approached the desk where Jean's receptionist sat, busily typing away on a haptic holo interface.

The man cleared his displays and looked up, recognition flashing in his dark eyes. “Ah, Miss Loewe, welcome back. Jean is waiting for you in his study.”

“Thank you, Kuro.” Sara offered a neutral smile to the secretary.

Sara knew the man, one of Jean's most trusted right-hand men. Kuro was slight of build but extremely deadly, knowledgeable in numerous ways to kill quickly and efficiently. Unlike the low-ranking enforcers and their obvious cybernetic limb replacements and muscle augments, Kuro possessed only sensory and analytical upgrades. The power and lethality in his body was his creation alone, honed by long hours of difficult training.

“Please proceed through the security corridor. I'll clear you through the outer layer. It'll be only a moment.”

Sara nodded respectfully to the dangerous killer. The slender, unassuming man was one of the very few people in the universe that Sara was actually afraid of, and he knew it. So did Jean, unfortunately.

The fringe troubleshooter passed through the open security door, traversing a corridor that appeared bare, but she knew better. The walls were some glossy black synthetic material, transparent on the other side. Behind the panels were four custom sentry automatons keeping a silent and invisible vigil. At the slightest hint of danger, the panels would retract and the doors on either side of the corridor would slam shut, sealing the would-be attacker inside an inescapable deathtrap. The extravagant security system explained why Kuro hadn't taken her weapon.

A moment passed in silence before the far security door cycled and slid open. Sara walked through the threshold into the study. It was like walking through a hole in time that transported her more than a thousand years into the past.

The smell of fine hardwoods, leather and aged paper reached Sara's nostrils, a scent that most humans in the Alliance would never have recognized. Jean's study was relatively small, but still an ostentatious display of his ill-gotten wealth. Long bookcases made of real hardwood lined the walls, heavily laden with paper books. Among the refugees of the Gray invasion, few things were more rare than a paper book printed on Earth. Jean owned the largest collection of such books that Sara had ever seen.

The leader of the Red Claw syndicate himself sat in a comfortable leather chair—real leather, not cultured, and certainly hundreds of years old—sipping slowly at a heavy-bottomed tumbler of some dark and smoky distilled liquor. Sara stepped up to his desk and waited while he finished reading over a scrolling list on his network terminal. The slender blond man possessed an aristocratic manner, his delicate features exuding a refined sensuality that he worked hard to emphasize.

“Ah, Miss Loewe, so good to see you again,” Jean intoned. His voice was at odds with his pretty face and slender, androgynous build. That deep, resonant baritone seemed to purr and growl out each word with seductive power.

Sara knew better than to be drawn in by Jean's unsubtle manipulation. He was a manipulator through and through, and he rarely failed to get what he wanted. Almost every woman and a not-insignificant number of the men who closely associated with Jean would inevitably end up beneath the sheets of his luxurious bed. Sara was not one of these, and her consistent denial of his advances intrigued Jean more than irritated him.

“A pleasure, as always,” the fringe troubleshooter replied, trying to keep her voice as even and calm as she could. Going to all the trouble of calling her up to his private sanctum meant that the job was probably going to be something she wouldn't normally agree to. “What sort of work do you have for me today?”

“Right to business, as usual. You haven't changed a bit, Miss Loewe.” Jean leaned back in his chair and motioned to one of the others near his desk. “Please, sit down and relax. Would you care for any refreshments? I'm sure I can provide whatever your heart may desire.”

“Thank you for your boundless hospitality, but I'll have to decline,” Sara insisted, letting a little steel creep into her tone.

Jean laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Very well. I do so wish that we could spend some more time together, catching up for old times' sake, but I know you're very busy. I apologize for placing so many menial tasks on your shoulders. You recently accepted a lucrative ongoing contract, have you not?”

“That's not your concern.” Sara's brows angled downward in a scowl. “You know how this works, Jean. I don't carry tales about the jobs you give me.”

“Under normal circumstances, you would be correct,” Jean continued, his tone still just as light as if he were engaging in harmless small talk. “These circumstances are far from normal, especially considering what is at stake. We've had our differences in the past, and if you wish to discharge your debt, you would do well to cooperate.”

“So?” Sara’s eyes narrowed. “What's your point?”

“It appears that you've become entangled in a rather delicate situation, my dear. A situation that, unfortunately, I have a rather large interest in. I'm willing to offer you the chance to leverage your position to fulfill your obligations to my organization.”

Sara shot to her feet, her expression indignant. “Now wait just a fucking minute—”

“Sit down,” Jean snarled, his veneer of civility shattering with an abruptness that startled even Sara. “Lovely Sara, please listen very carefully. You do not want to fight me on this. On the contrary, we can both profit from this dreadful conundrum. Now, I know who you are shielding. I am deeply disappointed that you attempted to hide this information from me, but for the sake of old times, I’ll overlook it.”

“How long have you known?” Sara demanded.

“Since you arrived, of course.” Jean shrugged and refilled his tumbler, savoring a sip of the dark liquid before continuing. “There is very little that happens in the City without my knowledge. Did you really believe that you could hide from my sight… or were you anticipating this outcome?”

“Neither. I'm only wondering why you'd even care.” Sara frowned suspiciously. “What is it to you that I was hired to protect them? Since when do you give a shit about wanted criminals from the Alliance? The City is full of them. You're one of them, if you care to remember.”

“None of those fugitives interest me,” Jean informed her, dismissing the assertion with a casual wave of his free hand. “This one would likewise not interest me… except for the not-so-small matter of the bounty placed upon her head.”

Sara stared at the crime boss in astonishment. “What?”

“Ah, so you don't know about that.” Jean's smug smirk blossomed into a thoroughly self-satisfied grin. “Perhaps you know a long-time associate of mine, Theodore Meyers? The governor of Nimbus Colony and a senior member of the Alliance Administrative Council?”

“I know who he is,” Sara bit out.

“Your charge caused the death of his beloved daughter, though I'm certain you already know all of that. You always were a sharp woman, my dear Sara. As the Alliance has failed to mete out justice, Meyers has turned to those who operate outside of its sphere. The bereaved father has offered a reward of two million Alliance credits, transferred via clean accounts, for the delivery of the fugitive Lieutenant-Commander Pierce.”

Sara felt as if her stomach vanished from her body, replaced only by cold emptiness. That was an absolutely astronomical sum of credits to offer for an individual bounty, but even more valuable was the fact that those credits would be dispersed through legitimate channels. With such clean resources, Jean would be able to expand the Red Claw's reach into Alliance colonies, furthering his black-market connections with the wealthy elite.

“I'm sure you know why I've been courting you these past few weeks, my dear. I must admit, I was unable to determine the payment you accepted for this little task, but I'm certain that I can more than exceed it.” Jean's eyes flashed avariciously as he downed the rest of his glass. “Cooperate with me and I will nullify your debt to me. In the spirit of a renewed relationship, I will also deposit one hundred thousand clean credits into an account of your choosing. You will also be permitted to accept our contracts once again.”

“And if I refuse?” Sara demanded despite already knowing the answer.

“If you refuse, then I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to kill you and take possession of the fugitive without your assistance.” Feigned sorrow creased Jean's brow, so obviously fake that it only served to enrage Sara further. “I know you understand my position, lovely Sara. I'm certain you would do the same if our positions were reversed.”

In here, on Jean's home turf, Sara had no other choice but to agree with his plan. If she refused him directly, Kuro would simply kill her and Jean would send his minions to retrieve Alisa. Rin would undoubtedly attempt to defend her and may even make a good accounting of herself, but Sara had no illusions about the ultimate outcome. The Red Claw would wear her down eventually—and if someone like Jean discovered Rin’s true nature…

If Sara wished to make it out of this alive and with Alisa still in her possession, she had no choice but to at least appear to accept Jean's terms. Sara's lips curved into a forced predatory grin that she hoped was convincing enough.

“To be honest, I was only being paid forty-K for the job.” The fringe troubleshooter tried to make her voice sound as casual as she could manage, considering the circumstances. “If you're offering to forgive my debt and pay a hundred thousand? Then you've got yourself a deal.”

[-]

Rin knew something was wrong when the lights inside the hotel room flickered.

It was subtle, passed so rapidly that a human would not have noticed. Fortunately for the both of them, Rin was not human. A split-second later, the reality of the situation became appallingly clear; her wireless connection to Avernus’s planet-wide datanet was abruptly cut off.

Communications in the room were being jammed. The momentary interruption of the lighting was caused by the automatic systems switching control from wireless to hardwired mode as the jamming field was brought online.

“I'm going to go take a look around, love.” Rin reached out and let her fingertips caress Alisa's cheek lightly. “It doesn't matter who is out there, I swear by all the stars in the universe they will not take you away from me.”

Rin stepped away from the bed, taking a moment to pull her boots back on before she retrieved the short-barreled carbine Sara had obtained for her… somewhere. It wasn't as powerful a weapon as she would have preferred, but it would still put a good-sized hole in anything she fired it at.

Fully charged with a new magazine, Rin observed as she checked the carbine over. The weapon was semi-modular, fitted with a nerve disruptor underneath the 6mm rifle barrel. The disruptor was a highly effective non-lethal weapon that caused pain and short-term paralysis without inflicting permanent damage. Unfortunately in the presence of atmosphere, the disruptor beam let out a distinctive shriek that would carry for a good distance. The regular linear accelerator's stuttering hiss would be far less obvious.

Rin steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation. It wasn't that she was adamantly opposed to the idea of ending a sapient life—as an AI operator flying with Alisa in the Lancer, she'd directly and indirectly destroyed countless Gray. The fact that her opponents would be human didn't deter her, either, as both she and Alisa spent their fair share of missions shooting down human vessels, as well. Like her partner, she was a soldier, a warrior. Killing was her job.

Why am I so anxious, then?

Gripping the linear carbine tightly, Rin set herself up in the best defensible position she could find. The corridor leading to the suite's bedrooms was a straight shot from the front door. There were no other obvious means of egress for an assault—the twenty-second floor was high above the curtain barrier. If they chose to shoot out the windows from an aircraft of some sort, Rin would still have a clear shot at them from where she stood.

They're probably not going to want to be too conspicuous.

With a low chime, the front door slid open. Whoever their attackers were, they managed to gain access to the building's security systems. A dark shape sailed through the air and skittered across the floor, coming to rest against one of the main room's walls. Thick opaque smoke poured out of the grenade, blanketing the room in a stinging haze of some sort of chemical incapacitating agent.

Her own body didn't react at all to the gas. The synthetic tissues used in her construction might probably suffer some very minor damage from irritation and inflammation, but Rin’s critical systems weren't dependent upon organic tissues. The fact that the attackers failed to utilize pulse grenades told her they lacked critical information concerning her true nature.

They'll regret that lack.

Rin lifted the carbine, her violet eyes narrowing as she utilized her advanced visual modes to locate the enemy within the thick haze. There were four of them, all dressed in flashy-looking tactical gear, compact gas masks obscuring their faces. Two were armed with magnetic ram shotguns while their companions clutched carbines similar to Rin's own.

She placed the sights of her weapon directly over the head of the first man inside and squeezed the trigger once. With a coughing hiss, the linear accelerator weapon fired, bucking slightly in her arms with minimal recoil. Blood spurted from a small hole that suddenly appeared in the dark forehead and the first intruder went down hard.

Ducking back behind the corridor, Rin avoided the expected return barrage without a single impactor even coming close. With her ability to see into the infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths, the thick white plumes of gas in the room proved to be more of an advantage than a hindrance.

The rest of them wouldn't be careless any longer knowing someone was shooting back at them. Rin knew she had to take them out and get Alisa out of here before more of them showed up—and before the gas could cause any issues with her breathing. Feigning injury in an attempt to draw them out, Rin let out a pained cry of agony and made a point to affect a coughing fit.

Good. Come on in.

Boots thudded against the inlaid stone floor as the attackers fell for Rin's ploy hook, line and sinker. It was obvious that her opponents weren't especially well-trained; a group of four Alliance marines would never have fallen for such a deception, whether they knew her to be an AI or not.

Rin popped back around the corner and let off a pair of quick snapshots. Despite having no time at all to properly line up her sights, Rin's inherent precision of action ensured that both impactors buried themselves deeply into the midsection of both attackers.

The foggy mist was starting to fade as the room's climate control system drew the stinging smoke out. Rin would only have the cover advantage for a few more seconds, but she had only one attacker left. Staccato bursts of linear accelerator fire chewed into the walls, peeling the facade away and chewing apart the composite structural plating underneath. The last assailant was firing wildly out of fear, wasting their ammunition and charge capacity with no regard for sound tactics.

Rin switched the fire control over to the disruptor. The battle was no longer quiet by any stretch of the imagination. She peeked out from behind the corridor, again not bothering lining up the sights. The shriek of the disruptor beam was punctuated by the sound of a choked-off cry of pain. A body thudded to the ground and Rin stepped out of cover, keeping her weapon at the ready. The carbine still had four shots left for the disruptor and forty-five 6mm impactors left in the ballistic magazine. Charge levels were good at 94 percent.

“Oh, my,” Rin breathed aloud as she surveyed the carnage she'd wrought. The air inside the suite was clear again, the tear gas dissipated with the help of the air intake and exhaust vents. The last attacker twitched slightly, her eyes open wide and her long brown hair half spilling out around her. The two she'd shot were alive but wounded, clutching their bloody wounds and groaning. Only the first of the assault team had been killed by Rin's single shot between his eyes.

One of the remaining assailants coughed wetly and fixed Rin with a bewildered stare. “What… what are you?”

“Better at this than you are, apparently,” she quipped. “Don't move a muscle if you want to keep breathing.” She turned toward the table and picked up two of the self-sealing wound dressings Sara had obtained for Alisa's surgery. She tossed one of them to the astonished bandit.

“What…”

Rin shrugged. “There's no reason to just let you die.”

“Aren't… you going to ask… w-who sent us—”

“Why bother?” She let out a snort of unamused laughter. “We both know you won't tell me, assuming you even know who hired you.”

The man's guttural croak would have sounded like normal laughter if he didn't have a six-millimeter fragment of metal embedded in his gut. Rin took a few moments to walk around the room and remove the power cells from each of the discarded weapons. Since the cells would last through dozens of reloads, it was a reasonably safe assumption that they didn't bother to carry spares.

Slinging the carbine over her shoulder with the integrated strap, Rin opened the door leading to Alisa's room. During the battle, the bedroom door slid shut automatically and kept the tear gas from entering. Her precious partner was still locked in her slumber that looked no less peaceful than before.

“Come on, love, we have to get out of here before more of them show up,” Rin said as she bent down to scoop Alisa up in her arms. She keenly felt her vulnerability in this state; her body wasn’t able to support her partner's eighty kilos with one hand, at least not without risking dropping or hurting her.

With Alisa safely cradled in a two-handed grasp, Rin darted out through the hotel suite's front door. Even outside the room, the jamming bubble was still in place. She had no idea how far it extended; as long as she remained within the boundaries of the field, she would be unable to contact Sara.

The twenty-second floor of the arcology habitat was made up of smallish suites similar to Sara’s room. Rin had done a little exploring shortly after her arrival on Avernus, but she hadn't been able to find a full schematic of the building itself. Her earlier investigation did turn up a few maintenance closets that led to back-end passageways that would lead to other parts of the hotel, but Rin knew those were a non-starter.

Whoever was behind the assault knew this building intimately and was able to provide their minions with override access rights. Rin had no need at all to interrogate the attackers who'd survived; she already knew who was after them. The man Sara had gone to see, the owner of this building and the leader of the Red Claw crime syndicate—

“That's far enough, lovely little doll.”

Rin slowly turned around. With Alisa occupying her arms, there was little Rin could do to resist considering the five linear accelerator weapons pointed directly at her. She knew it would take a lot more firepower than that to bring her down, but the human in her arms was unfortunately a very different story.

“That’s it. Now, be a good girl and hand Miss Pierce over to me,” the blond man continued, his rich baritone adopting a bored tone. Rin's expression didn't change, but inwardly she was fuming—one of the guns pointed at her was held by Sara Loewe.

Rin sighed audibly. “Always who pays the best, isn't it?”

The mercenary said nothing, but Rin caught the hint of something not quite right in her eyes, the way her pistol's barrel shook just slightly. It would have likely gone unnoticed by anyone else, but Rin had spent enough time with this woman to know that her grip was ordinarily steady as a rock.

“Okay. I'm setting her down.”

Rin bent her knees and lowered Alisa to the ground gently, placing the catatonic woman on her back. She took a step back and watched as the blond man, having recognized him as Jean, the leader of the Red Claw crime syndicate. Rin was more than a little surprised that the leader of the entire outfit would personally undertake such a mission. Perhaps he didn't trust his subordinates all that much.

“Now,” Jean purred, his voice growing even more sensual as the encounter appeared to go his way, “set your weapon aside. We are all intelligent, rational people. I'm certain we can come to an arrangement that is profitable to us all, no?”

Rin unslung her carbine. Her furious glare heralded impending death for the smug crime boss.

“You are not taking Alisa away from me.”

Moving so quickly her limbs became a blur, Rin forced her body's synthetic muscles to their very limits, instantly overriding the safety protocols with a single mental command. Error messages and damage reports flooded into her consciousness as dozens of myoelectric polymer bundles tore from the wrenching strain, but she ignored them and pressed on.

The linear carbine swung around and found targets. Her finger snapped the trigger back rapidly as she walked the muzzle across her opponents. The first two on the right side fell to the ground even as her third and fourth shots were fired. Jean's green eyes glittered with malice and hatred as he backpedaled, his body shrouded by a dimly glowing reddish corona.

Rin angled her carbine and fired again, but the impactor deflected away from the blond man a good ten centimeters before it could strike. She growled in frustration and dove forward, charging the man with reckless abandon as he drew his own weapon, an ornate pistol decorated with sweeping, gold-plated embellishments and precious gems. The weapon resembled an ancient flintlock firearm, but Rin could tell it was simply a decorative facade over a large-caliber heavy linear accelerator.

The booming crack-hiss heralded the arrival of Jean's first shot. The beleaguered man backpedaled and fired again, this time striking Rin in the left shoulder. Warnings raced through her lattice diagram and the sheer force of the heavy impactor spun her around and nearly knocked her from her feet—

“Rin!” Sara cried out. The woman hadn't had time to react to Rin's lightning-fast assault, but she was fully into the battle now. Her booted foot lashed out and caught one of the wounded guards across the face, sending the man crumpling to the ground. The fringe troubleshooter swung her own pistol around, thumbing the fire-select switch, and released a hazy blue-green beam of disruption.

Jean cried out in pain as some of the nerve disruptor's energy made it through his barrier, but it was nowhere near enough to drop him. With his lackeys either dead or incapacitated, however, Jean had no illusions that he would win this fight. His hand reached into a pocket of his silk-woven smoking jacket and flung outward.

Searing, actinic light burst into being with a suddenness that caught Rin by surprise. The flashbang was a special type that not only blazed brilliantly in the visible spectrum, but also burned hot enough to blind infrared sensors. Intense scrambling wavelengths overloaded Rin’s extended visual modes and she hissed more out of frustration than fear.

“He's getting away!” Sara shouted. Rin focused on her secondary sensor modes—she settled on a type of bioelectric detection that was often used in life-form scanners—and took aim. The resolution was far too low for this kind of thing, but she fired anyway, squeezing off four shots in rapid succession. Her first two struck their target, but the second sharp hiss told Rin that Jean's personal barrier deflected them away. The others missed completely.

Rin's mental command sent a force-restart signal to her visual sensors, rebooting them as quickly as she could. The EM source from the flashbang hadn't been powerful enough to actually damage the sensors in her eyes, but it still took a little time for the world around her to come into view once again.

“Rin!” Sara shoved her pistol back into its holster and rushed over, an expression of worry on her face. “You're hurt—you're bleeding!”

“He shot me in the shoulder,” Rin confirmed, glancing with indifference at the gaping crater in the flesh of her upper arm. Faintly luminous white fluid leaked slowly from the wound. “We don't have time to worry about it now. You can fix me up once we're on your ship and off this rock.”

Sara met Rin's gaze steadily. “We're parked on one of Jean's landing fields. He'll have a reception committee waiting for us, no doubt.”

“Well,” Rin murmured, looking around at the dead or seriously injured henchmen lying on the floor of the blood-spattered corridor. “Nobody ever said this would be easy. Come on, let's go before they strand us here permanently.”

03

Sara was correct, of course; the landing platform that the Luminaire sat upon was packed with so many mercs and enforcers that Rin could scarcely believe it. She managed a head count after a few seconds—Jean had ordered up two squads' worth of hired guns and sent them to immediately cut off their escape.

“Why don't they just disable the ship?” Rin asked.

“The Luminaire is valuable, especially with the particle beam weapon.” Sara shrugged, keeping her voice low enough to be swallowed up by the high ambient noise floor. “Jean probably wants to claim it for his own after he kills us and collects the bounty on your girlfriend.”

Rin's gaze bored into Sara. “There are twenty-four assholes with guns out there. I'm hoping you have some kind of plan to get past them without any of us being filled full of impactors.”

“I think… is there any comm jamming active?”

“Here?” Rin shook her head. “No way, not unless he wanted dozens of ships to crash into each other. They probably think it doesn't matter—even if we had any backup to call for, their own forces would be able to take them out before they even got close.”

Sara's lips curved into an evil little smile. “Good. I have an idea. Can you remember the comm frequency fingerprint I used to contact you from the ship? Before we left Sirius Colony?”

“I don't forget anything.”

The fringe troubleshooter pulled her modified TCC out of a pocket and held it aloft. “I'm going to unlock some of the Luminaire's systems from here and allow you access. I want you to take control of the ventral laser turret.”

Rin blinked in astonishment. “Impossible. There's no way they wouldn't have already thought of that and locked down the Corsair's weapons.”

“Haven't you realized it yet?” Sara's dark eyes glittered with malicious humor. “Jean and his people don't know you're an AI. He just thinks you're a skilled but otherwise ordinary merc with combat cyborg implants. He doesn't even have the slightest inkling of your true capabilities.”

“Fine. Unlock the systems. The moment the reactor fires up, though, they're going to know something's up. They'll start trying to wreck the ship.”

“I know that.” Sara patted her sidearm affectionately. “I'm going to open fire on them as soon as you do it, try to buy you enough time to get the laser heated up and burning through mercs.”

“That's suicide,” Rin objected.

“Hopefully it won't be, but it's not like we have a lot of choice. There's no way I can let Jean take Alisa. She's too important.”

Rin arched a dark eyebrow in wordless query.

“Not now—you'll hear all about it later, after we leave here. I promise.”

“You've been promising to tell me what's going on for almost three weeks.” Rin glared at the other woman balefully. “You still haven't made good on any of those promises. I think I deserve an explanation.”

Sara's lips twisted in a grimace. “Yeah, you're right and I'm sorry, but since those assholes with guns are all gathered around my ship, this really isn't the time. We make it out of this alive, and you'll learn a lot of things. Trust me.”

“We'll see about that.”

The fringe troubleshooter powered her TCC on and entered a lengthy code that connected the device to the Luminaire's main computer and unlocked the power and weapons systems. Rin's auditory sensors caught the deep thrum of the Corsair's reactor as it began to initiate a cold restart.

“Now!”

Sara leaped out from behind the stacked component crates and rolled across the empty space, her pistol coming up and firing off hastily-aimed shots before the mercs could even react. Rin watched them out of the corner of her eye as she sent connection requests through to the Luminaire, negotiating access to low-level control programs for the weapons and targeting subsystems.

Rin's expression hardened as she felt her awareness expand into the Luminaire's systems. With a thought, she assumed control over the two laser turrets mounted on the top and bottom of the Corsair's U-shaped fuselage. Ignoring the linear accelerator fire that erupted all around her, Rin swiveled the ventral laser turret down and over, making note of Sara's position.

A sharp whine cut through the air as the laser fired. In the atmosphere trapped beneath the landing facility's curtain barriers, the beam glowed brilliantly green as it ionized the air along its path and converted it into plasma. Used in a vacuum, the beam would be invisible, but here it was a shimmering shaft of viridian doom that scythed through the ranks of mercenaries.

The hail of gunfire decreased significantly as the laser's deadly caress touched off a succession of small explosions and set a half-dozen mercenaries on fire. Screams of pain and confusion joined the sound of small-arms fire as Rin tracked the turret back, raking the enemy with overwhelming firepower. The Luminaire's laser turrets were intended for use against hostile starships, after all, not lightly-armored humans.

Ultrasonic shrieks added to the din as Sara leveraged her weapon's neural disruptor. The wide, cylindrical column of hazy paralysis blasted more mercenaries to the ground, writhing in agony as their nerves misfired and their muscles locked up.

“Open the boarding hatch!” Sara shouted.

Rin complied instantly, sending an override command through the wireless connection that immediately began dropping the Corsair's ramp. Tightening her grip on Alisa's body as firmly as she could without hurting the catatonic woman, Rin burst into an awkward run. Her muscles were still damaged and thus slow to respond, but she rallied and managed to keep a secure grip on her vulnerable partner.

Sara half-ran, half-leaped through the air and her booted feet slammed down onto the deck plating of the Corsair's boarding hatch. Rin followed as closely behind as she could, maintaining her control over the laser turret. Rapid pulses of pure emerald slashed through the air, forcing the remaining mercenaries to take cover behind a nearby vessel.

The AI operator felt her cyborg body jolt roughly as her feet slammed against the boarding hatch. The instant she was far enough inside, she sent a mental command to the Luminaire's main computer, retracting the hatch even as she ran up into the vessel's crew cabin.

“Rin, I need you up here now!”

As quickly as she was able, Rin ducked inside the small crew berth and set Alisa down on the bottom bunk. With a worried glance that lingered for only a fraction of a second, Rin turned and raced into the Corsair's cockpit section. She planted her hand firmly on the back of the navigator's seat and vaulted herself over to land in the pilot's station.

“We need to get out of here,” Sara gasped as she entered a series of commands into her console. “They've got portable missile launchers.”

“Okay, I'm doing it.” Rin wrapped her fingers around the stick and throttle assemblies, her feet tapping the maneuvering pedals. Utilizing the wireless root connection to the Luminaire's main computer, she formed a makeshift link to the vessel's systems that was similar, if not even half as efficient, as her usual link with the Lancer. “Shields are going up now; pouring in as much power as possible from the burst banks.”

A violent tremor rocked the Luminaire's interior. The tactical display honked at Rin, indicating a missile strike had detonated on one of the ventral shield hexes and knocked it out completely. Before she could dump any power into the generators, a second explosion followed.

“We've lost the ventral laser,” Sara reported, her voice quavering slightly.

“Hopefully we won't need it.” Rin stomped on the maneuvering pedal and mentally activated the Corsair's repulsion systems. With a wrenching shudder, the vessel seemed to bounce up nearly two hundred meters, clearing through the curtain barriers. The shield strength indicator's numbers stabilized.

“We're too far away for them to hit us now.” Sara's breathing was labored. Rin knew she'd been shot at least once, but there wasn't anything she could do about it until they were far away from Avernus. She hazarded a glance at the woman and was dismayed to see her entire left side soaked in blood.

“You need to take care of that wound.”

“Later,” Sara deflected.

“No, now.” Rin jerked the stick to one side and then the other, dodging easily as the mercenaries fired off their remaining missiles. Fortunately the portable launchers didn't have the best guidance in the world, using a simple laser aiming system with a heat-seeking warhead. “If you don't staunch the bleeding quickly, you're going to pass out from blood loss in less than ten minutes, and I don't have time to tend to you right now.”

Sara opened her mouth to object, but she thought better of it. After all, it was no use arguing with someone who could make such complex calculations in a nanosecond with no more than a glance at her wound.

The Luminaire's main drive flared with power and directed it from the six primary thrust emitters on the scout vessel's aft. Outside the curtain barriers, Avernus didn't have much of an atmosphere of its own; the solar wind would constantly blow off what little gas the planet's gravity managed to trap. With little friction to worry about, Rin turned the safeties off and engaged the vessel's boost thrusters.

Green-hued gravity field diagrams appeared on the navigation display. “Looks like we've just cleared Avernus's gravity well. The antimatter furnace is active and the catch rate is rising. We'll reach jump capacity within a few seconds. Tell me where we're going.”

The fringe troubleshooter sighed. There weren't many options now that Jean had betrayed her like this—no, not betrayed, merely used. Jean had no friends. He was the sort of man who viewed all other people as tools, nothing more than disposable vehicles he used to reach his preferred destination.

With Nexus City no longer a safe haven and Alliance-controlled systems far too risky, Sara knew there was only one optimal choice. Her employer wasn't going to be happy about it, but the obstinate woman would be even less happy about losing Alisa Pierce.

“Here. Use this plotted course—four jumps with recharge stops.”

Rin blinked at the navigation display. “This is out in the middle of nowhere. There's absolutely nothing in this system. It doesn't even have any satellites beyond a few chunks of broken rock orbiting a dying red dwarf.”

“Trust me, there's something there.” Sara let out a grunt of pain as she tore away her clothing and pressed a self-sealing bandage to the hole in her side. “Just enter the course in and let's get out of here before Jean decides to send ships after us.”

“Are you going to tell me what's going on when we get there?”

“You'll get the whole story,” the injured woman promised. She thumbed the cap off of an autoinjector stim and jabbed the device against her side, depressing the plunger. Sara jerked reflexively at the sharp hiss, but gasped in relief as the drug took effect almost immediately. “We'll both get to rest, and I'll get someone to dig these bullets out of me.”

“You should go rest,” Rin advised. “The stim's going to start working in earnest and you're not going to be much use to me up here in the cockpit. Alisa's in the bottom bunk, but the top one's free.” For a moment Rin thought the tough woman would argue, but Sara's expression softened and she nodded as she struggled to her feet.

“Okay, okay, I'll go lay down for a while.”

“The route you provided will take seven hours with recharge times,” Rin informed her. “You should try to sleep—don't just 'lay down for a minute.' Go on, get out of here. You're already bleeding all over the place.”

“You sure you'll be—”

“I can handle this, Sara,” Rin cut her off, letting out a bitter laugh. The woman's stubborn refusal to take care of herself when there was work to be done reminded Rin far too much of another person in her life. “Go get some sleep.”

[-]

Commander Andrew Isaacs removed his helmet and let out a slow breath. He could feel the weariness in his bones after such a difficult mission. Almost three weeks after the Infiltrator's emergency return order to Sirius Colony, the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing was once again in the thick of things.

His Lancer's command pod unsealed, the hatch sliding back. Levering his long, lean frame over the edge, Isaacs felt his mag-boots come into contact with the lightweight metal mesh catwalk. The commander slung the small black case containing his AI operator's blue box over his shoulder and plodded down the ramp, heading for the nearest lift.

“Commander, are you feeling all right?”

Isaacs pressed a button on the lift control and turned toward the speaker while the elevator was summoned. “Oh, I'll be fine. I just got a little scorched back there.”

“You call that 'a little scorched?' I'd hate to see what you consider burned, then,” Miles Portland remarked, the imposing ex-marine's faint smile echoing Isaacs' own emotional state almost perfectly. “Lieutenant Moore's going to have a truly epic fit when she sees how badly your armor got vaped.”

“Trust me, I'm not looking forward to that particular conversation.” The doors to the lift slid open and Isaacs stepped inside, Portland following close behind. Isaacs' expression softened slightly as he gazed evenly at his subordinate. “I know it's not the way you wanted it to happen, Lieutenant, but how do you feel about leading Delta Flight so far?”

Portland's broad shoulders shrugged. “It's my job, Commander. Fighting the Gray in the Lancer is what keeps my family healthy and happy back home.”

“Home being Eden Colony, right?”

“Yeah. When my family's application for Alliance citizenship was approved, I made sure the whole clan could settle down on the safest settlement humanity's got to offer.”

“I've been there more than a few times. I was born on Sirius, though, so the ring colony will always be home to me. Eden sure is beautiful though—probably the most success we've ever had at partial terraforming, though it's all still under domes.”

Portland's dark eyes narrowed. “Permission to speak freely, Commander?”

“Granted.”

“Commander, I'd appreciate it if you cleared the air. What the hell is going on?”

“I'm assuming you're talking about Lieutenant-Commander Pierce.” Isaacs' expression took on a grim aspect. “To be honest… I don't know. After the Infiltrator's security people relinquished her and Rin into ACS custody, it was taken out of our hands. You know as well as I do—you've been here the whole time. We spent a few days resupplying and bringing in replacement personnel before moving on to the next mission area.”

“That's not what I mean,” Portland argued.

“You better explain yourself, then, Lieutenant.”

“The whole thing is bullshit, Commander. Friendly fire happens all the time out here on the frontier. Get into a chaotic melee at optimal laser range with a bunch of gunboats and yeah, it's real easy to get your wings clipped by your buddies.”

Isaacs said nothing.

“Look, I know you're probably not allowed to say anything,” Portland continued, his deep bass voice losing some intensity, “but this whole thing stinks. Delta Lead makes a split-second decision, shoots a bad guy off Four's tail and that was with a broken gun. She couldn't have known it would have killed Meyers' ship. Something like that could've happened to any of us, has happened to many of us, and Lead is the one who gets the book thrown at her?”

“You're right. I'm not allowed to say anything, but even if I was, I still don't know what's driving this.” Isaacs sighed heavily as the door to the lift opened and deposited them on A Deck. “The situation isn't as simple as I wish it was.”

“Commander, you can't just let them hang her out to dry.” The new Delta Lead looked away from his commanding officer, frustration lacing his words. “I knew this was going to be a political shitshow when Four was first assigned—”

“Lieutenant, that's enough,” Isaacs said in a tone of mild reproach. “You follow orders—we follow our orders. You know this. Trust me when I tell you that I'm not taking this lying down. Even if I have to burn all the political capital I have, I'll do everything in my power to protect my people, no matter who they are.”

Portland saluted stiffly. “Thanks, Commander.”

“Don't thank me. I'm doing it for her sake.” The commander grimaced and turned to walk down the corridor leading to his office. “As you were, Lieutenant.”

Isaacs didn't bother to watch as Portland turned on his heel and stomped off. The commander of the 703 knew Portland was right, despite his apparent lack of concern for the fugitive Alisa. It wasn't like he had much of a choice but to follow his orders and keep doing his job. Such a truism applied to both Isaacs and Portland.

With a quiet hiss of released gas, the door to Isaacs' office opened and he stepped inside. He took a moment to seal the door behind him and entered a do-not-disturb message into the door panel. I was only told yesterday, Isaacs mused to himself as he sat down behind his desk and powered on the network terminal. He began to enter in several commands, securing his session and encrypting any data he sent or received.

It hadn't really hit him fully until the news actually reached his ears. After the Infiltrator's security personnel relinquished custody of Alisa and Rin to the ACS, they'd taken both to a medical facility in B Block. According to the reports he'd read, Alisa and Rin were only at the hospital for around ten hours before a person or persons unknown illegally gained entry to the facility and assisted them in escaping Alliance custody.

No longer simply under suspicion for negligent manslaughter, Alisa Pierce was now a fugitive from justice. By running away, she had all but confirmed her guilt in the eyes of many—but had she actually run away? The last time he saw her, Alisa was barely capable of coherent speech, much less breaking free from ACS custody. Was she rescued from the hospital by an ally—or kidnapped by an enemy?

These were questions Isaacs had no real answers to. What did they actually want with Alisa and Rin? It could have been any number of things, but he strongly suspected it had something to do with the unusual interest the Alliance afforded the young pilot and her AI operator.

Isaacs had gone through the records when Alisa was transferred to the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing. It was standard procedure, after all. Her file had proven to be much more interesting than he'd expected. Alisa's awards section was littered with citations for her valor and bravery in the face of extreme hardship—none of which was terribly surprising. The 703 was an elite squadron, the best of the best. Just about every flight leader in the wing had similar accolades.

What was more interesting to Isaacs were her disciplinary records. Nearly all of the pilots accepted into the 703 had rather colorful histories, including himself. There were always infractions here and there—reckless exhibition of maneuvering was a common one, along with drunken disorderlies, barroom brawls between marines and pilots, friendly rivalries that occasionally erupted into minor physical disagreements.

Occasionally some of the pilots had been cited for their reckless behavior, but this was to be expected of the most daring and capable aces. Prodigies in any field were always a bit eccentric, possessed of a natural arrogance and healthy ego that inevitably led them to clash with authority figures. Starfighter pilots were, predictably, even worse than most.

Alisa's disciplinary record was different. It was spotless.

That had thrown up red flags for Isaacs, and so he had contacted Alliance Command regarding her file. He suspected the data had been altered or somehow modified, but Command wouldn't tell him a thing. More than that, he was informed that his security clearance wasn't high enough to even ask, and he was strongly dissuaded from poking his nose into such things again.

Now that Alisa was counted as a criminal, however, Isaacs wondered if there was some sort of connection. It was obvious someone in Alliance High Command was shielding her for some unknown purpose. It made sense, as there was no other explanation for why Rin had been allowed to exist without the usual safeguards in place. Creating an unfettered AI and allowing it to roam free was a grave and terrible risk to take—and for what purpose?

Isaacs knew he had been ordered not to look any deeper into Alisa's past, but after his conversation with Lieutenant Portland, he could ignore this no longer. During her time in the 703, her behavior had been what he'd expect from someone with her introverted, slightly weird personality. This didn't match up with her personnel file, though. Everyone made mistakes, after all, and Alisa was far from perfect. A pristine record stretched the bounds of credibility.

“A puzzle wrapped in an enigma,” Isaacs muttered aloud.

On an impulse, he pulled Alisa's complete file once again, just as he had done when she originally transferred in. This time he wasn't interested in her military accolades and citations, but in her personal history. Perhaps if he could find a common thread throughout the woman's career, he would discover more.

It took him the better part of an hour of study, but finally Isaacs had a place to start looking. A single name that continually appeared in her file approving duty requests, grading, advancement and just about everything Alisa did as an officer in the Fleet. A name that was familiar to Isaacs, a relatively recent rising star in Alliance High Command: Admiral Nera Thomas, commander of Sirius Fleet.

That's unusual.

The data he received from the ACS report forwarded to Fleet indicated the strong possibility that she was taken from Sirius on a civilian-owned Corsair scout gunship. A small number of old C-shape fighters attempted to engage the vessel in combat and the pilot reported its registration and IFF beacon as the Dawn Flyer. Subsequent investigation revealed that no such ship was docked with the colony on the day Alisa disappeared.

Isaacs rubbed his temples slowly. The Dawn Flyer was clearly part of a forged IFF tag, used to muddle the trail even further. However, sensor readings and analysis of the vessel's thrust signatures allowed the vessel's true identity to be determined.

Both ACS and the Fleet personnel involved suspected the fugitives were evacuated via the Luminaire, the personal vessel of a questionable privateer named Sara Loewe. A quick search yielded some of the woman's checkered past as a mercenary and smuggler, with a long history of working out of pirate colonies for various underworld figures.

Despite the suspicious nature of the Luminaire's brief battle, patrols from the Sirius Fleet avoided any and all involvement, even after the ACS patrol wing requested their assistance in preventing the vessel's departure. There had to be a reason for it, a reason that Admiral Thomas explicitly prevented her forces from assisting the ACS. If he wished to learn more, Isaacs had no choice but to talk to the admiral herself.

Isaacs tapped a long string of commands into his console, once again making use of the secure comm tunnel used for sensitive military communications. The console beeped at him when it completed the connection. He loosened his collar, suddenly feeling rather warm even in the cool confines of his office. Now that he knew, there was no other option but to press on. He'd already put himself in a compromised position for Alisa and Rin's sake by refusing to drop the matter after being ordered to do so.

It was decided, then. He would talk to Nera Thomas. He hoped the admiral would have the answers he did not.

[-]

Rin stared grimly at the Luminaire's nav display—or more accurately, at the error message plastered across it. The gravity well indicator was lit up, despite the fact that the Corsair was more than far enough away from Avernus to initiate a hyperjump. The number denoting the gravity well's strength continued to climb; more warning messages popped up on the holo display.

Somewhere nearby, an unknown vessel was generating a localized mass shadow using a warp inhibitor. The false gravity well would prevent the Luminaire's warp core from functioning, trapping them in the system.

Her lips twisted into a grimace. It was obvious that the Red Claw refused to take their escape lying down. The use of a warp inhibitor field was unsurprising—it was a favored tactic of fringe pirates and Alliance Customs vessels both. Inside the bounds of the inhibitor field, only the largest ships with the most powerful warp cores could even hope to form a hyperspace tunnel. Even those that could overpower the field would find their range severely limited and much easier to track.

Rin muttered a long and virulent string of curses under her breath. With Sara already passed out in the crew bunk above Alisa, there was little she could do but what she'd promised mere minutes before—to handle it, regardless of what “it” happened to be.

Let's see what we're up against, shall we?

Control of the Luminaire was designed without AI operators in mind, but Rin was able to use the administrative access granted to her in order to take some degree of direct control over the scout ship's systems. Her fingers tightened on the stick and throttle assembly—unfortunately, Sara compartmentalized the flight controls so that no remote connection would be able to fly the ship.

It wasn't all bad, though. Rin was able to reroute the data feed from the tactical and nav displays, linking them directly to her systems. The holo projections remained powered on, but she would receive the data quick as thought.

Sensor readings showed what looked like two small freighters, modified extensively with more weapons than were legally allowed on civilian vessels. Rin jerked the stick hard to starboard and mashed her feet against the maneuvering pedals. The nimble Luminaire answered her pleas and entered a spinning lateral slide.

Additional contacts blossomed on the tactical display, showing up as small red starfighter icons on the holo, but Rin perceived them more fully. Accompanying the two pirate vessels were two flights of Supernova-class heavy fighters. The flat, roughly Y-shaped starfighters were popular among private military companies, being fairly inexpensive to manufacture while also possessing higher specs than the more common C-shape fighter.

They're not using a standard loadout, either. Rin angled the Luminaire into a sweeping climb relative to her previous vector and overcharged the Corsair's star drives, sending the scout ship rocketing far outside of effective laser range. The Supernova formation broke apart into individual flights and maintained a somewhat sloppy diamond pattern, attempting to catch the larger Corsair in a flanking maneuver.

Lasers flashed against the Luminaire's shields, but the integrity barely dipped—the Supernova pilots were firing from beyond effective range. From what she could tell, the Supernovas weren't packing too much in the way of lethal ordnance—the bulk of their hardpoints appeared to be occupied with disruptor missiles. Rin expected this; few pirates wished to destroy the vessels they targeted, as it was the valuable cargo they were after in the first place.

In this case, that “valuable cargo” was Alisa.

Well, that's not going to happen.

Rin switched the weapons control over to the Luminaire's particle beam cannon. Three green squares appeared on the shell display, but Rin ignored them—the target assist HUD was intended for human eyes. Rin was already dozens of nanoseconds ahead before the shell display received the firing solution.

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

The Luminaire shuddered throughout its entire length as the powerful weapon loosed a searing violet-white particle beam. Rin's calculations proved to be deadly accurate; the Corsair's nose nudged over almost imperceptibly, slashing the full-power beam across the enemy at exactly the right arc. The torrent of charged particles slammed into one Supernova after another, imparting far more destructive energy than the little ships could hope to withstand. Shield hexes failed instantly, the particle beam vaporizing armor and hull plating with contemptuous ease.

Rin's smile widened as the tactical display chimed and three red icons flashed before fading to a dark gray color. A trio of distant explosions were visible on the shell display as the number of enemy contacts dropped from ten to seven.

Missiles incoming.

Fifty new contacts appeared on the tactical holo—each marked with a small, bright white icon—as the remaining five Supernovas broke formation and fired a spread of disruptor missiles. The “nonlethal” weapons were designed to shut down a starship's main drive without seriously damaging it, preventing the vessel from maneuvering or fleeing and allowing the attackers to capture it at their leisure.

Rin yanked hard on the stick and slammed the throttle to its stops. The Luminaire's six propulsion drives sent the scout ship veering away, climbing relative to the vector of the incoming missiles. The guided projectiles altered course with terrifying agility, but Rin wasn't worried. It was exactly what she expected.

The swarm of disruptor missiles, in their haste to match her maneuver and continue to home in on the Luminaire, drifted even closer to each other. Rather than a loose spread, the munitions were all bunched up in a fairly small area of space.

Invisible beams of coherent ultraviolet light pulsed outward from the Luminaire's dorsal and ventral laser turrets, tracking across the cloud of disruptor missiles with exacting mechanical precision. The contact counter from the tactical display began to decrease rapidly as the Corsair's lasers superheated each warhead, one after another, causing the weapons to detonate prematurely.

The Supernovas weren't in the best position to defend, Rin noted. It was time she took full advantage of that. With no more effort than would take to curl a finger, she switched the weapons control from the particle beam cannon—which would take another minute or two before it finished gathering enough power to fire—to the Luminaire's secondary weapons, a pair of 36mm linear cannons mounted on the port and starboard hardpoints. These weapons weren't nearly as devastating as the Lancer's 84mm heavy linear accelerator, but they had more than enough punch for Rin's purposes.

A storm of 20mm autocannon fire filled the space around the Luminaire; the Supernova pilots must have decided against wasting any more disruptor missiles for the time being. Rin could imagine the slack-jawed astonishment that must have been on their faces when she intercepted all fifty missiles, all while still evading their laser fire.

Shields are holding, but that's doing a lot more damage than the lasers. Rin swung the Luminaire around, calculating firing arcs and trajectories based on the gravity wells in the area. The warp inhibitor was still active and would slightly affect how her shots traveled, but some quick calculations gave her a solid firing solution.

The Supernova pilots appeared puzzled by this. Rin's smile morphed into a wicked grin as the impactors sailed through the void, angled just slightly off their intended vector. Hypervelocity rounds slammed into two of the Supernovas, catching them squarely in the aft section where their main drive and fusion reactor were located.

Rin didn't hesitate to take full advantage of this and fired again and again, putting sixteen more 36mm impactors into play. She staggered her shots, making sure to spread them around in a pattern that looked random but was actually carefully designed to strike the same shield hex repeatedly.

Abruptly one of the Supernovas exploded; the corresponding icon flashed dark gray as the heavy fighter was torn apart by internal detonations as Rin's hail of deadly impactors hammered it to pieces.

Tongues of bright plasma arced from a breach in the engine section of a second Supernova, the vessel's fusion reactor damaged and leaking unreacted helium-3 fuel. The Luminaire's tactical display confirmed it—the fighter wouldn't die, but it was definitely out of the fight.

Whoever these pilots were, they certainly weren't anywhere near as skilled as Alisa. Every member of the 703 could have out-flown any two of these mercs without breaking a sweat. Rin suspected that were she and Alisa flying together, the entire enemy force would have already been obliterated.

Even alone and piloting a sub-optimal vessel, I'm doing fairly well. Violet eyes narrowed sharply as she took stock of the battlefield. There were four enemies left—two Supernovas and the two enemy freighters. Sensors told her that both the freighters were nearly as well-armed as an Alliance light frigate, though neither possessed a particle beam cannon.

Linear accelerator fire erupted all around the Luminaire as the two freighters entered the fray, taking matters into their own hands after their fighter escort failed.

It hardly mattered. The battle would be over soon enough.

[-]

Sara's eyes snapped open. Her body felt numb from the medicine haze, as if it had been stuck in a giant wad of cotton. The dimmed cabin lights told her that the Luminaire had switched power modes for combat. The fringe troubleshooter swayed a bit as she sat up, the pain in her wounds sending jolts of fiery lightning running through her, but she ignored it and the nausea that followed.

Somehow she managed to slide off the bunk without falling to the deck. There was a battle going on—damn it, she shouldn't have let Rin convince her to rest yet. It was too late for self-recrimination; now she had to get to the cockpit.

The crew cabin was dimmed as well—during combat, nearly all vessels would suspend nonessential power consumption in order to conserve as much energy as possible for the sensors, weapons, shields and propulsion. The Luminaire was no different in this regard.

When Sara arrived in the Corsair's command cabin, the holes in her side were radiating so much pain that she could barely stand. Screaming agony shot through her and she staggered over to one of the sensor stations.

“Why aren't you still in bed?” Rin demanded, not bothering to take her attention off the battle. “You're going to make your injuries worse if you don't rest.”

“I told you to wake me up if anything happened.”

Rin shrugged and squeezed the primary weapons trigger, sending a pair of 36mm impactors through the void. “This isn't anything major.”

“What do you mean, not major?” Sara bit out. “We're under attack.”

“I told you I'd handle it, so I'm handling it.”

Sara said nothing, instead strapping herself securely into the sensor station chair so that any unexpected impacts didn't send her flying. The Luminaire's inertial dampening field was strong—a necessary feature for a scout vessel exploring uncharted space—but no dampener could react perfectly to abrupt inertial transients.

The fringe troubleshooter winced as the pain in her side dulled without decreasing in intensity. She was sorely tempted to use another stim, but she would need to be awake when they arrived at their destination. Without her help, Rin would never be able to find the hidden facility in time.

Since I'm awake and already hurting, might as well help out as best I can. Sara tapped a command into the sensor console and several new holo displays materialized, giving her a detailed datafeed from the Luminaire's impressive array of scanning hardware.

The thought died soon after it formed, however, when Sara realized that Rin didn't actually need any help. She'd strapped in with the intention of calling out sensor readings, but the operator had already tapped a feed right into the Luminaire's systems. All of them. Only manual navigation was outside her control, as Sara had de-linked the systems years ago in order to frustrate would-be ship thieves.

With little else to do, Sara watched the battle through the sensor readings. By the time she'd woken, the fight was already nearly over—Rin had apparently started out facing half a wing of Supernovas and two pirate vessels. The pirates' starfighter escort was dead or disabled; with two modified freighters armed to the teeth, they would have still held the advantage, but the Luminaire packed tremendous firepower.

And Rin… this is the strength of the Alliance's famed Advanced Starfighter Corps. Even on her own, without her counterpart and in an unfamiliar ship…

Sara closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Those who made their living on the fringe, especially those who survived by taking what didn't belong to them, feared the Alliance's ASC pilots greatly. The very idea of a human mind directly syncing with a machine intelligence unnerved most people, but it was the division's terrifying skill at killing that was the foundation of their well-earned and lethal reputation.

That reputation was clearly well-earned judging by what Sara could see of Rin and what she knew of the pair's collective combat history. Even among other pair-linked pilots, Alisa's performance ratings were anomalous. The fringe troubleshooter was well aware that a linker's sync rate generally corresponded to a direct rise in combat metrics across the board. Pairs that didn't sync well had enough latency and rejection in the cognitive connection that they would be lucky to post higher numbers than a solo flyer.

Perhaps it made sense, then, that this doll-like girl of an AI and her counterpart had the highest average sync rate on record. For the vast majority of the Advanced Starfighter Corps, a sync rate of eighty percent would be an impossibility. Sara suspected the culturally ingrained distrust of machine intelligences was the primary culprit for this limit.

She turned her attention back to the battle. One of the freighters had already been shot up so badly that it drifted under partial power. The pirate ship's weapons still worked, at least the ones that hadn't been wrecked by the dozen or so impactors currently buried in its hull.

The other freighter was attempting to flee—not a wise decision on the captain's part. A feral grin spread across Sara's face as Rin's expert maneuvering flipped the Luminaire back around to drop squarely behind the fleeing pirate. The interior of the scout vessel was filled with a low hum as the burst capacitors were dumped directly into the primary power feed for the particle beam cannon.

A split-second later, Rin fired.

Sara shook her head in slow wonderment. She watched the holo display as the column of brilliantly-glowing relativistic particles sliced through the void and struck the fleeing freighter. There was a flash and flicker as the vessel's shields were utterly destroyed. Armor plates were atomized instantly as the beam eviscerated the pirate ship with a single, vicious deathblow.

It was over. Sara's burning eyes flicked over at the sensor holo and found herself only mildly surprised to discover that the entire battle had lasted only eight minutes. Her hands shook as she struggled to unfasten her restraints. Sticky wetness was already seeping down her side.

“I don't think I can wait around to do something about this,” she groaned.

There was a disgusted sound from the pilot's seat. Rin drew herself out from the confines of the padded crash couch and strode across the crew cabin to where Sara was sitting at the sensor station. Rin stared critically at the woman and shook her head in exasperation.

“This is why I told you to rest,” she snapped. “The bleeding might have stopped, had you not insisted on walking around and stretching the skin around the wounds. Now you'll be lucky if it clots at all.”

The fringe troubleshooter avoided Rin's accusatory stare. “Yeah, sometimes I don't listen very well.”

“I told you I'd handle things while you rested.” Rin let out a deep, theatrical sigh, expressing a mixture of frustration and resignation. “Now I'm going to have to do what I can to treat you—and it's going to hurt.”

“My own fault.”

“Glad you realize that. Now try not to move.”

To her credit, Sara did try very hard as Rin removed the self-sealing field dressing from the wounds. Blood dripped at a steady rate from the two slashing holes in Sara's torso. “It doesn't look like any impactor fragments were left behind.”

“Does that mean you're not going to go digging around in my gunshot holes?”

The AI operator shook her head. “Even if there were pieces left, removing them could cause the bleeding to worsen significantly. You've already lost six hundred milliliters of blood; too much more and you'll start to feel the effects.”

“I already feel the effects.”

“You're going to feel more than that. Hold still and try not to make any sudden movements.”

Sara pointedly looked away as her erstwhile companion pulled a small, sharp knife from the Luminaire's first aid kit. She remained uncharacteristically quiet as Rin sliced away a portion of her shirt and set to work. Deft fingertips cleaned away blood and bits of fiber stuck to the wound before starting to stitch up the flesh.

The whole operation took only a few minutes, but without any form of anesthetic, Sara considered them the longest few minutes she'd experienced recently. Her heart rate finally started to slow as Rin busied herself putting the medical supplies away.

“I never, ever want to do that again, but if I have to, I want you to be the one who sews me back up.”

Rin smiled at the left-handed compliment. “I made a point to learn basic combat medicine a little while ago. There was an incident… where Alisa was seriously injured and I couldn't do anything to help her.” Her expression was thoughtful. “Well, I didn't have a body back then, either, so perhaps I can't entirely blame myself.”

“That's how she got her scar, I take it.”

“Yes.” Rin's violet eyes took on a faraway look. “Our wing walked right into an ambush set up by a mercenary battle group. Alisa was only one of the half-dozen pilots shot down that day. We likely would have managed to stay flying, but Alisa charged off into the fray—against my recommendations.”

“I was wondering about that,” Sara mused, so softly she spoke almost to herself. “I guess Pierce refused to get the scar removed.”

Rin nodded. “Yes. It would have been a trivial thing to repair, but she chose to keep it, the inflexibility of the scar tissue serving as a constant reminder not to act recklessly in combat.”

“Makes sense.”

“Regardless, you need to go lay down and rest,” Rin chided her, the AI operator's bell-like soprano breaking into Sara's thoughts. “The synthetic tissue won't be able to graft properly if you don't stop moving around.”

The tough woman grimaced inwardly. She didn't take being talked down to very well at all, especially when it was coming out of the mouth of a tiny slip of a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties.

“Okay, okay, I'm going back to the bunk.” Sara held her hands up in surrender. “Really. I'll go back there and lay down right now. My side feels a lot better, by the way. Thanks for fixing me up.”

“I'm glad you feel better—now get out of here and go lay down.”

04

Nearly ten hours later, Rin stood up from the Luminaire's pilot's seat and strode back through the crew cabin. The antimatter furnace would complete a full charge of the little scout ship's warp core, jumping them another thirty light-years through the void. At the end of the imaginary tunnel through hyperspace, the vessel would emerge and orbit an unnamed star in a system so unimportant, neither side bothered to fortify it.

During the long hours of quiet, lonely solitude while Sara slept and healed, Rin was left with little to occupy her mind. Outside of the Alliance, no longer sent on missions to kill the Gray, she had no reason to turn to her usual pastime of tactical analysis. Instead, she whiled away the hours trying to figure out what in the universe was lurking out in this middle-of-nowhere star system that Sara considered safe.

The fringe troubleshooter was still asleep. Curled up beneath a thermal blanket, Sara looked almost innocent as she slumbered. Her usual mask of cool indifference was replaced with a small, faint smile—Rin guessed the sleeping woman was having a pleasant dream, perhaps of happier times.

“Sara, wake up.” Rin placed a slender hand on her shoulder. She was loathe to wake the still-recovering woman, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. “We're ready to make the final jump into the target system.”

A single brown eye opened, heavy-lidded, and swiveled as if it were attempting to locate the unfortunate soul who had dared wake her from her slumber. Sara quickly managed to bring herself back into full consciousness, somehow remembering not to sit straight up and bash her head on the berth's low ceiling.

“I'm awake, I'm awake,” Sara groaned. The woman slipped down off the bunk, careful not to step on the lower bunk's occupant as she got to her feet. “We're on the last leg?”

Rin shrugged. “I said that already.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still pretty fuzzy. It really shouldn't be a surprise after being shot twice at close range and being all stimmed up to hell and back.”

“You're the only one who knows anything about this place.” Rin reached over into a nearby storage bin and drew out a fresh set of clothing, holding it out to Sara. “You should probably put these on.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” She started to dress, her movements halting and shaky. Rin stepped close and steadied Sara as she pulled on the pair of pale blue shipboard coveralls. The fringe troubleshooter regarded her attire and shrugged. “Not the most fashionable, but it'll have to do for now.”

“Your jacket's still covered in blood.”

“And has holes shot all in it,” Sara snarled. “The stars damn Jean. I should have known he was going to pull something like that.” The fringe troubleshooter took a deep breath and bent down, her face contorting in brief agony as she slipped her boots back on.

Rin shook her head. “You couldn't have known.”

“Yeah, I could have. I should have. I should have refused Jean's offer from the start, come to Avernus under forged IFF tags, used a disguise, tried harder to keep him from figuring out who I was protecting. Something.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself.”

Sara's soft laughter was rueful. “I can't believe you're not angry with me. I fucked up, got myself shot and nearly let your girlfriend get captured. I should know better than this—I should be better than this. I've been doing this kind of work for far too long to make such a rookie mistake.”

“Neither of us knew Alisa had a bounty on her head.” Rin's violet eyes glittered as she gazed at her intriguing companion. “From my own analysis, it was likely Meyers has been keeping the information quiet, only extending the offer to those underworld contacts he trusts.”

“More likely only those he has some sort of control over,” Sara corrected. “Trustworthiness is a quality that simply doesn't exist on the fringe.”

The navigation system's chime filled the crew cabin, forestalling further discussion. Rin strode back into the cockpit section and settled into the pilot's chair, tapping commands into the console.

“We're ready to make the final jump,” Rin reported. A mental command sent to the Luminaire's main computer began the warp core injection. Data scrolled across the nav display as the central rod slowly slid within the warp core's primary field coil. Stabilized hypermatter particles inside the rod absorbed more and more of the field's energy, carefully weakening the fabric of space-time.

“Core injection complete; initiating jump in three… two… one… jump initiated.”

Piercing white light filled the shell display and dissolved into a jumble of confused and chaotic colored static. The Luminaire's computer automatically disabled the external cameras and darkened the shell display.

Sara winced slightly as she eased herself into the chair behind Rin. The twin bullet holes in her side still sent sharp spikes of agony through her, but the tough woman shrugged the pain away. It was still bad, but bearable, thanks to Rin's skillful first aid.

“Stage one hyperspace collapse complete.” Rin's eyes flickered with light as she switched maneuvering control over to Sara. “Navigation control has been transferred to your console.”

The shell display reactivated as the hyperjump completed, depositing the Luminaire somewhere… else. Rin's eyes widened in momentary shock as the tactical display suddenly blared warnings at her, the contact list filling with dozens and dozens of amber icons.

“There's nothing about a debris field this dense on the charts!”

“Yeah, and there's a good reason for that,” Sara explained. Her expression became more intently focused as she worked the stick, sending the Corsair streaking through the thick screen of enormous chunks of twisted metal far larger than the vessel itself. “Take control of the lasers and blast anything that get too close.”

“Acknowledged.” Rin integrated her consciousness further into the Luminaire's systems, seeming to stare off into nothing as she dedicated her attention to the turrets. Laser fire hissed through the cockpit module, breaking up several smaller bits of shattered material that strayed too near.

“It's been a while since I've been here, but… no problem.” Sara eased off the throttle, cutting the vessel's acceleration slightly as she altered vectors and cruised upward relative to their previous flight path. The tactical display flashed a warning, but Sara ignored it and continued to head toward a huge chunk of space metal far too large to be called debris.

Rin fired the lasers in rapid succession, blasting through a tumbling, half-melted hull plate three times the size of the Corsair. “We're going to this planetoid?”

“Yeah. I'm only supposed to come here as a last resort. This qualifies.”

“You think Jean will keep searching for us?” Rin inquired.

“He doesn't give up easily. The Red Claw has a pretty tight grip on most of the independent colonies, not to mention a few eyes and ears in various Alliance-controlled territories. Even if it costs him half the bounty, he'll still keep after us—two million clean credits is worth risking a lot.”

Rin turned to gaze at Sara. “What is this place?”

“You'll see.”

The space this close to the planetoid was relatively clear of debris. Rin examined the sensor readings and was not surprised to detect several significant sources of heat and electrical activity. She tapped into the sensor package directly and felt astonishment ripple through her mind.

“There's some kind of facility built into the asteroid.”

“That's where we're going.” Sara keyed the comm on through her console and encrypted the transmission. “Babel Station, this is the Luminaire, requesting clearance to dock. Transmitting authorization codes now.”

There was a short pause. Rin frowned at the tactical display as several new contacts appeared—anti-starship linear accelerator cannons. A dozen of them slid from beneath hidden and sensor-shrouded panels, swiveling to converge their aim points on the sedately-cruising Luminaire.

“Corsair Luminaire, this is Babel Control. You've been cleared to land per the Director's authorization. Please proceed to Dock Two.”

“Acknowledged, Control. Proceeding to Dock Two.”

Sara cut off the comm and eased the ship closer to the asteroid. At this distance Rin could make out the facility itself through the shell display—it was cleverly camouflaged, the rust-colored panels studded with bits of rock and amorphous features that made it appear to be nothing more than the interior of the crater's wall. A small section of disguised paneling slid open, obscured slightly by the reddish haze of an active curtain barrier.

The Luminaire accelerated almost imperceptibly through the barrier and into a docking bay that was much larger on the inside than it initially appeared. Several other Corsairs were suspended in docking clamps—along with eight sleek, dagger-shaped vessels that Rin instantly recognized.

“Lancers? Here?”

“Well, of course.” Sara's lips twisted into a wry smile. “This is an Alliance facility, after all, and the Lancer is the most advanced starfighter in current production.”

Rin blinked in surprise. “So you do work for the Alliance.”

“In a sense. Like I said, you'll be getting the whole story now that we're here.”

The Luminaire eased into one of the free docking cradles, the main drive powering down as the repulsion pads came to life. A tremor ran through the deck plating as the claw-like clamps secured the vessel firmly in its cradle.

Sara tapped a string of commands into her console, powering the Luminaire's systems down. The fringe troubleshooter stood up, still a bit shaky, but not quite as troubled by the pain of her injuries as before. “Grab your girlfriend and let's go.”

Rin drew herself out of the pilot's seat and made her way back to the crew bunks at the other end of the cabin. She bent down and gently worked her arms underneath Alisa's unresponsive form, easing her up and out of the small sleeping niche.

“We're here, love,” she murmured into Alisa's ear. “Wherever 'here' is, anyway.”

[-]

Admiral Nera Thomas stood on the bridge of Sirius Fleet's flagship, the massive super-dreadnought Retribution.

One of only five of its kind, the enormous warship was nine kilometers from bow to stern, three times the size of an ordinary Alliance dreadnought. It was a potent symbol of humanity's military might, possessing a massive particle beam cannon so incredibly powerful it was capable of cracking a planet's crust from orbit. The exterior of the superstructure was studded with hundreds of laser arrays and linear accelerator weapons, both on automated gun pods and human-guided turrets. The dreadnought carried a full six fighter wings hidden within two fighter bays.

The Retribution itself was a space-faring city, with a crew of over eight thousand Alliance personnel and twice as many simulated intelligence platforms. Dreadnoughts such as this took an incredible amount of resources to both construct and operate, and thus they were reserved for defensive duty as a potent deterrent to keep the Gray far, far away from population centers and other systems the Alliance considered critical.

It was the highest honor, the most coveted duty in the Fleet to be placed in command of a sector fleet and captain of the deadliest warship humanity had ever created. However, there were times when she missed being just another destroyer captain on the front lines, deep in the thick of the endless war with the Gray.

“Admiral, there's an encrypted message coming in for you.”

Nera turned to her communications officer and gave the man a measured gaze. “Is it flagged urgent?”

“It is.”

“Fine. I'll take it in my ready room.” Nera frowned and turned to walk off the bridge toward her office. “Patch it through there. Disable all logging, per regulations.”

The comm officer saluted sharply. “Yes, Admiral.”

Nera returned the gesture almost automatically and turned on her heel, walking behind her captain's chair toward the door that led to her ready room on the bridge.

The door closed behind her silently. Nera tapped a few commands into the console and sealed the door. She sat down heavily in the comfortable chair behind her desk, powering on the terminal and examining the message critically.

Nera tapped the console and authorized a real-time comm session. Flickering as it came to life, the holo display revealed a dark-skinned man Nera didn't immediately recognize. He was dressed in the uniform of an Alliance Fleet officer, the distinctive blood-red beret of the Advanced Starfighter Corps sitting on the desk. She glanced at his rank insignia—a wing commander.

“This is Admiral Thomas. You wished to speak with me?”

“Thank you for accepting my call, Admiral,” the man began. “My name is Commander Andrew Isaacs, of the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing.”

Nera studied the man carefully. She recognized the name, though she had never met him in person. He was the commander of one of the more celebrated fighter wings in the Fleet, attached to the stealth destroyer Infiltrator. Most importantly, however, Commander Isaacs was Alisa Pierce's CO in the 703. Admiral Thomas was instantly on her guard.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?”

“I think you already know,” Isaacs hinted. “I wouldn't have contacted you directly if it wasn't important.”

“I wonder about that. What is that it you want, Commander?”

The commander's projected image seemed to grow even grimmer. “I want to talk about Alisa Pierce.”

“I see.” Nera put on a carefully-calculated mask of indifference, doing her best to suppress the concern she felt for the missing woman. “I don't think there's really all that much to talk about, is there, Commander? Your subordinate was negligent, the Alliance considered the infraction grave enough to pursue charges—and she chose to run rather than face the music.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, that's impossible and you know it.” Isaacs' dark eyes glittered on the holo display. “For starters, Lieutenant-Commander Pierce was incapacitated after the incident. We already know that she was taken from the B Block medical center by a third party. And lastly, I know Alisa damned well. All the stars in the universe would go nova simultaneously before that girl would betray the Alliance just to escape punishment.”

Nera said nothing, digesting the commander's words. He hadn't actually shown much of his hand just yet, but the admiral had a strong feeling that this man was both better informed than she'd like… and potentially dangerous.

“Those are interesting theories, but that is all they are: theories. I know ACS claims the fugitives were evacuated—”

“Admiral, with all due respect, please do not insult my intelligence,” Isaacs interrupted, his low baritone tinged with annoyance. “ACS requested immediate assistance from the Sirius Fleet patrols during the battle that took place between a Corsair-class scout gunship and a group of unregistered C-shape fighters.” The commander paused for a moment and grimaced. “But they never offered that assistance, nor did they offer a reason as to why they couldn't. As a result, the Corsair was able to escape into hyperspace.”

Nera's respect for the man rose a few notches—he clearly wasn't about to be intimidated by her rank and commanding presence. “Cleaning up the ACS's mess isn't our duty. I chose to deny the request—”

“—because you knew Alisa was on that ship,” Isaacs finished for her. “And you deliberately ordered your people to ignore it.”

Nera was silent for a long time, staring hard at the man on the other end of the communications link.

“Why did you protect her?” Isaacs demanded.

“I have my reasons.”

“I'm sure you do. I'm sure it has something to do with why High Command continually lets her do whatever she wants. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that Lieutenant-Commander Pierce's disciplinary file has been repeatedly tampered with.”

Nera stared at the commander with a measured, steely gaze. “Those are not accusations to be made lightly, Commander.”

“I'm fully aware of that,” Isaacs replied, letting his breath out slowly. “Alisa's a part of the 703's little family. A good father always looks out for the kids, and you seem to be right at the center of everything.”

Nera was silent for a long time. Her eyes slowly softened and she leaned back in her chair. The transformation was subtle, but Isaacs clearly saw as she shed the imperious persona of a flag officer in the Fleet. What was left was just a person, shoulders slumped from strain and worry.

“I didn't just let Alisa go, Commander.” Nera's voice held a weariness that hadn't been there before. “I ordered her extraction from Sirius Colony. The owner and captain of the Luminaire is my personal agent.”

“Why?”

“Because Alisa Pierce is the primary subject in a highly-classified ACI research project.”

Isaacs didn't respond to that.

“Do you know Alisa's personal history, Commander?”

“No, I don't.” Isaacs' tone was bitter. “Any inquiries I attempted to make were blocked and High Command insinuated that my career would suffer if I continued to investigate.”

Nera honestly couldn't blame him—it was standard procedure for a wing commander to know their subordinates back to front. “There are very good reasons for that, Commander. Those reasons are still valid.”

Isaacs' expression darkened. “Admiral, I'm worried that Alisa and Rin are in grave danger. Someone with ill intentions is trying very hard to lay hands on them. I don't give a shit if they're counted as fugitives from justice.”

The admiral frowned and looked away from the screen, staring at the secondary display where the encryption strength of the communications tunnel was analyzed. Satisfied that the connection was completely private, she began to speak.

“Twenty years ago, a research team under my command discovered that mutations in the brains of humans caused by exposure to unstable hypermatter particles could potentially result in the ability to sense and manipulate these distortions.” Nera paused for a moment, meeting Isaacs' steady gaze through the holo display. “It took us another eight years of intensive searching, but we eventually found someone who possessed this ability.”

[-]

Rin's narrowed amethyst gaze projected almost tangible malice as she glared at Sara, the small waiting room they had been stuck in for three hours and the universe in general for being so thoroughly frustrating.

“I thought you said this place would be safe,” Rin growled.

“Does this look unsafe to you?” Sara shrugged and continued to page through an electronic novel on her TCC. “We're waiting here because the person in charge is very busy and we have to be given proper access rights.”

“So why coop us up in this tiny little room?” Reluctantly, Rin stopped her pacing and returned to the plushly-upholstered couch where Alisa's inert form lay. “How am I supposed to feed Alisa if I can't run a biogel IV? The baked goods and fruit on the counter aren't going to be doing her any good if she isn't lucid enough to chew and swallow it.”

“She'll be fine, Rin. Calm down.”

“I'm sick of being calm and being told to calm down.” She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a great, exasperated sigh.

“This place has security like you wouldn't believe,” Sara explained, trying to keep her tone from becoming too harsh. “If you were to start walking around without being authorized in the system, you'd get zapped with a stun bolt before you knew what hit you. By the time you shook that off, the system would have recognized you as not human and burned you down with concentrated laser fire.”

Rin blinked, astonished. “How many people do they lose by accident here? What if the system malfunctions and misidentifies someone?”

“That's why they go for nonlethal first.” The fringe troubleshooter yawned and stretched her muscular arms over her head. “I'm sure it's happened a lot, but like I said before, I've only been here a few times.”

“If you've been here before, why don't you have access?”

“I get a temporary pass that has to be reauthorized every time I arrive.” Sara set her TCC down and gazed steadily at Rin. “The security here is justified. You'll understand why as soon as you meet with the director.”

As if summoned by her words, the door to the small waiting room slid open. A woman in a pristine lab coat walked through the open door, followed by a pair of strong young orderlies in white uniforms.

Rin turned and stared quizzically at the newcomer. Like most people with nano-enhancements, it was impossible to discern her age from looking at her, even for an AI with extended senses. The woman's hair and facial features suggested an undiluted Asian bloodline, something of a rarity in the vast melting pot of the Alliance.

There was something uncomfortably familiar about the woman. Rin frowned as she attempted analysis, but the return was inconclusive. She continually ran up against undefined results. Her musings were interrupted, however, when the two medics approached Alisa's body and started to lift her up onto a compact repulsion stretcher.

“What are you doing?” Rin demanded. “Where are you taking Alisa?!”

“Relax, Rin. They're just medics.” Sara made a dismissive gesture and slouched further into the couch, sinking within the cushions. “They're only taking her to the infirmary so her condition can be monitored.”

“Correct,” the white-coated woman confirmed. “Her physical condition looks very good. You must have been working hard to care for her.”

Rin scowled. “Alisa is everything to me.”

“I'm well aware. More than you know—or rather, more than you can remember.” The woman in white offered Rin a small smile that was strangely sad. She turned to Sara and her expression became more businesslike. “I didn't expect you to bring them here. The plan was for you to lay low in Nexus City until Alisa recovered.”

“That was the plan, but things went south pretty quickly. Our escape from Sirius Colony wasn't clean—I figured the Alliance would order ACS to keep it quiet, but that didn't happen.” Sara's lips twisted into a grimace of self-reproach. “Meyers got his hands on the ACS report somehow and posted up a bounty of two million in clean creds. Now every major syndicate with enough firepower will be hunting Pierce. None of the free colonies are safe any longer.”

“The lengths people will go to for the sake of vengeance.” The white-coated woman sighed and turned to Rin. “I'm sorry you and Alisa have become a part of something you don't understand. I will do my best to answer any questions you might have.”

“Let's start with the obvious. Who are you?”

“My name is Hyun-ae. A long time ago, I was a captain in the Alliance, assigned to Systems as an AI researcher.” The woman slid one of the nearby chairs closer to the couch and sat down, gazing at Rin steadily. “For years I worked as a… sort of caretaker for newborn AI operators, helping them adjust after their awakening. Officially, I retired from service in the Alliance and became a private citizen eighteen years ago.”

“Officially?” Rin echoed.

“In reality, I was transferred to a secret R&D unit under the aegis of Alliance Central Intelligence, and assigned to this place.” Hyun-ae gestured vaguely in the direction of the corridor that led deeper into the hidden asteroid base. “Ever since I've been working on research of the utmost importance to the survival of humanity.”

Rin waited silently, sensing that Hyun-ae wasn't finished with her explanation. The odd sensation that this person was known to her continued to nibble away at her mind, but no matter how many times she ran her full facial recognition analysis, the results always returned as undefined.

Not negative, but undefined…

Hyun-ae's eyes shined with unshed tears. Rin blinked, confused and taken aback. Why was this woman crying? What was causing that sadness? The way this woman gazed at Rin suggested a very strong emotional connection, but no matter how many times she ran the analysis, she couldn't figure out who this person was to her.

“I can tell you're straining to try and figure out who I am,” Hyun-ae said, reaching out to take Rin's hand in her own, squeezing it gently. “But no matter what you do, the analysis always returns an undefined result, doesn't it?”

“How—how do you know that?”

“Because I was with you when you sealed away your memories of me, of this place and of what happened here.”

“What? I sealed my own memory blocks?”

“You did it to protect Alisa,” Hyun-ae explained, her voice cracking slightly with barely contained emotion. “But the situation has changed. If you want to survive and protect her, you have to remember what you locked away.”

“I can't!” Rin's tone was bleak, tinged with helplessness and despair. “I've tried everything I can think of to unseal the blocks, but I don't have access. They're locked down so tight I can't even determine who, if anyone, has access.”

Hyun-ae placed a finger to Rin's lips lightly, shushing her. “I'm sorry, Rin.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Access request, Director of Operations Seo Hyun-ae, Section Zero, Alliance Central Intelligence. Authorizing full revocation of internal restriction on blocks 7799 and 7800.”

[-]

Isaacs stared at the holo of Admiral Thomas in disbelief.

“You're trying to tell me that the person you found—”

“Was Alisa Pierce, yes,” Nera confirmed. “Purely by accident, we finally found a potential match in a teenage girl, the only survivor of a domestic dispute that became what appeared to be a murder-suicide. Further testing confirmed our theories.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What—I mean, how is this even possible? How can a human distort space? Are you trying to tell me that psychic powers are a real, natural phenomenon?”

“Nothing of the sort, Commander,” Nera corrected him. “People with this ability do not exert 'mind over matter' or actualize thoughts in reality. It is merely a physical property of the subject's brain.”

“The 'subject,'” Isaacs echoed, his brow angling downward in an angry scowl. “Tell me, Admiral, is it easier to rationalize turning a soldier of the Alliance into a lab rat when you don't use her name?”

“It's not like that at all. I've sacrificed much to ensure Alisa's life is as comfortable and fulfilling as possible.” Nera's tone was defensive. “Alisa's like a daughter to me, Commander. As I'm sure you know, upon a time she was known as the 'Miracle Girl,' the only survivor of the Gray attack that completely destroyed Proxima Station. Both her parents were killed, but she alone managed to escape and was picked up by a certain Alliance warship.”

Isaacs saw the connection immediately. “You were the captain of that vessel.”

“Yes, I was.”

“What happened after that?”

“As much as I honestly wanted to take her in myself, I didn't have the freedom to raise a child. I was already being considered for a ranking position within the ACI, and I had my usual command responsibilities to the Fleet. Alisa lived with my sister for a time before she was adopted into a foster family.” The image of Admiral Thomas let out a deep, resigned sigh. “She was resistant at first, but eventually she settled into a normal and seemingly happy life, but this was not to be.”

Isaacs said nothing. It was easy enough to figure that the next chapter in Alisa's life story was not a happy one.

“Her foster father, a man named Robert Lewis, was involved in some sort of embezzlement scheme that had gone awry. He stood to lose everything and have his involvement in the whole criminal enterprise exposed. His wife knew nothing about the scheme, instead suspecting that his unexplained disappearances and late nights spent away from home were indications of marital infidelity.

“Alisa was fourteen at the time. She was bright enough to know something strange was going on and decided to investigate. Apparently Lewis wasn't as careful with incriminating documents as he should have been and Alisa found something damning.”

Nera paused again, old and unpleasant emotions tightening her features. Isaacs could tell, even over the communications link, that she wasn't enjoying this little trip down memory lane.

“She came home from school one afternoon to an argument between her parents; she could hear the shouting before she even opened the door. Alisa rushed inside, railing at him, threatening to call ACS and show them the evidence she found.”

Isaacs scowled. “I assume he didn't take it well.”

“When confronted, Lewis lost control. He pulled a gun from his jacket and shot his wife to death. He clearly intended to kill Alisa, too, but somehow she survived and her foster father did not.” Nera's holographic image tapped a few keys on her console. An indicator icon lit up on Isaacs' console, informing him that she'd attached a data file to the stream.

A secondary window popped up and scrolled with lines of information—Isaacs recognized the file as an ACS incident report. He stared at the report incredulously, feeling his already dark mood sour further.

“When the police arrived after a neighbor had reported the fight and the gunshots, they found Alisa kneeling on the floor, crying over her foster mother's body. Lewis was dead, the gun still in his hands. ACS classified the crime as a murder-suicide.”

“It's tragic, to be sure,” Isaacs began, carefully considering his words, “but why was this significant? I feel awful for Alisa, now that I know she witnessed the deaths of two mother figures as a child, but it doesn't seem relevant.”

“Patience, Commander. I'm getting to that. Shortly after ACS took control of the crime scene, Alisa apparently lost consciousness. She was to be taken to a civilian medical facility nearby, but there had been a depressurization accident in one of the maintenance tunnels only an hour earlier. The ACS detective on the scene had little choice but to take her to the nearest facility, which just so happened to be the Fleet med bay in A Block.”

Isaacs said nothing. He couldn't quite figure out where Admiral Thomas was going with this, but he decided it would be best to simply listen.

“It was this series of unfortunate circumstances that led to identifying Alisa as a latent case. A few hours after she was placed in the med bay's recovery ward, a weak but highly unusual spatial distortion was detected by the med bay's security system. It didn't take long for the information to reach my desk.”

“Alisa was the source?” Isaacs frowned at the holo of the admiral. “Was it the mental and emotional trauma of witnessing the murder-suicide that brought her abilities to the surface?”

“We believe so, though there are strong indications that her sensitivity was at least partially active ever since the attack on Proxima Station. Nevertheless, the preliminary research performed by Section Zero was able to confirm without a doubt that Alisa Pierce was exactly what we'd been searching for.”

For the second time in less than an hour, Isaacs felt as if his world had been turned upside down. By all accounts, Section Zero was a myth that seemed to exist only in whispered taproom conversations among off-duty Alliance personnel. According to these rumors, Section Zero was everything and nothing. Theories of its purpose ranged from that of a secret Alliance wet-works division to a hidden society of the powerful elite that controlled human civilization from the shadows.

“I see you're full of questions,” Nera observed with a wry smile. “Section Zero isn't an urban legend, Commander. It exists, though it is far less exciting than the rumors would suggest. The unit's primary mission is the study of captured Gray technology.”

“And you're a part of this organization.”

“Section Zero operates under the authority of Alliance Central Intelligence,” Nera confirmed without hesitation, “and I am the Director of Intelligence Operations, after all.”

“So after the data was confirmed, you had Alisa transferred from the Fleet med bay to an ACI facility so you could study her more closely.”

“Correct.” Nera leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. “Once we had Alisa transferred to one of our own facilities, we were able to discover a great many things concerning her condition and latent potential.”

Nera paused and sent a second data file, this one containing an overview of the medical and analysis data. She remained silent for a few moments while Isaacs read the relevant parts before continuing.

“Alisa was in very bad shape, unfortunately. The trauma she'd suffered drove her deeply into her own psyche. While she was outwardly unresponsive, her mind was still fully functional, but cut off from the outside world.”

The commander's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Admiral Thomas's description of what had happened to Alisa as a teen was uncannily similar to what had befallen her after the Delta Four debacle.

“Section Zero worked tirelessly to both revive Alisa and learn more about her ability. After two years, we learned little and were as of yet unsuccessful in our attempts to guide Alisa back into the world. Lacking any other options, we created someone who could communicate with her despite her unfortunate condition.”

“You can't mean—” Isaacs broke off abruptly. This certainly was a day for world-shattering revelations. “You're telling me that Section Zero created Rin.”

Nera's holographic image nodded solemnly. “We did. Alisa was fitted with a neural link implant and we made several detailed deep scans of her cognitive framework. Using this data we were able to create a new AI that could act as an intermediary and help us bring Alisa back from the brink.”

Isaacs' eyes widened in shock as understanding dawned on him. “So that's why you disabled Rin's limiters and behavior blocks.”

“You know about that already?” Nera arched an eyebrow quizzically. “That simplifies things, then. The standard safeguards would have rendered our goals impossible, and so we made the decision to take that risk.”

“It took almost a year before I could have something resembling a human conversation with my operator.” Isaacs' expression was thoughtful. “Even now, thirty years after I linked with Seraphim for the first time, I still have trouble hearing her voice in my mind. Our sync rate plateaued at seventy-four percent more than a decade ago, and we're considered above average on that front.”

“Correct.” Admiral Thomas's steely gaze felt as if it was boring into the commander's soul. “We didn't have that kind of time. If we left the limiters intact, it would have taken at least a decade of intensive raising for Rin to reach the bare minimum level of complexity necessary. With the blocks disabled, she was fully realized beyond our requirements within hours of initialization.”

The commander was stunned. As a pair-linked starfighter pilot with his own AI operator and a wing commander of a fighter group wholly consisting of others like him, Isaacs thought he knew a reasonable amount about artificial intelligence systems. Nera's assertions clearly showed him just how wrong he'd been.

“How did this even work?” Isaacs demanded. “Was Rin able to form a mutual link with her counterpart?”

“Yes. With Rin acting as an intermediary, we were finally able to talk to Alisa. She was hanging onto life by the thinnest of threads, Commander. Terrified and all alone, she was locked inside the prison of her mind. It took Rin nearly a year of concerted effort to wake her up. During the time they shared, Alisa fell deeply in love with her counterpart. I don't have any proof, but I still believe that was the critical turning point.”

“Why doesn't Alisa remember any of this?”

“When Alisa woke up, she had no memory of the trauma that forced her into a dissociative state,” Nera explained. “We were never able to discover exactly why. All she could remember was Rin, and that she loved Rin.”

“What about Rin herself?” Isaacs inquired. “Why doesn't she remember any of this? AI operators can't forget things.”

“Rin sealed away portions of her own memory in order to protect them both.”

Isaacs glared at the image of Admiral Thomas on the holo. “So neither Alisa nor Rin have any idea what happened to them during those years, nor do they know they're the subject of a secret research project.”

“That's exactly correct, Commander,” Nera confirmed. “Our goal has always been to learn as much as we can about Alisa's ability.”

Isaacs's expression was troubled. “I don't know what to think about all this, Admiral.”

“Trust me when I say I acted in everyone's best interests,” Nera insisted. “She isn't just an experimental subject to me. Alisa is a member of the Alliance, a combat pilot with a stellar record and a great asset to the Fleet. I also care for her personally.”

“So it seems,” Isaacs said, almost under his breath. His brow furrowed pensively as he studied the admiral's image. “How does all of this connect to the current situation? What does all of this have to do with Alisa's disappearance, the C-shape fighters attacking the Luminaire, the traces of blood ACS found in Alisa's hospital room?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Nera's tone was acidic enough to etch glass. “There was a leak. Someone else out there knows at least enough to realize Alisa's value as a research subject.”

“But what is the goal?”

“The same as ours, most likely: find out how this adaptation works, then find out how to reproduce it artificially.”

“And what is your goal?” Isaacs pressed. “What does the Alliance have to gain from Alisa's unique ability? How useful is it? As a scientific matter it's certainly a major discovery, but what are the practical benefits from a military standpoint?”

The admiral's image fixed him with a piercing gaze. “It is the key to unlocking the Gray's method of local communication.”

Isaacs blinked and stared at Admiral Thomas. He wasn't sure he heard her correctly.

“Did you just… say what I think you said?” The commander's jaw hung open. “That you've discovered how the Gray communicate with each other?”

“One of Section Zero's original long-term projects was to determine how the Gray talk to each other.” Nera paused for a moment, taking several large swallows of water. “We know they use hub-networked QE comm systems similar to ours for real-time communication at great distances, but the enigma of their local communication has remained unsolved for almost a thousand years.”

“I don't understand, and to be frank, Admiral, I'm getting sick of saying that. Give it to me straight—none of this playing coy political double-talk.”

The admiral shrugged. “Very well. The Gray create small spatial distortions that propagate gravitational waves through hyperspace in order to talk to each other. This method has definite advantages—they aren't limited by the speed of light, for example, but strong gravity wells can reduce the range and bandwidth. It is also completely unaffected by signal jamming and dampening. We've known for a long time we can't jam Gray comms, but we didn't know why until recently.”

“Then Alisa has…”

“The same ability possessed by the Gray themselves.” The admiral straightened in her chair. “I lack more than a passing understanding of the science behind it—my duties overseeing Section Zero are largely administrative. From the abstracts my chief researcher provided me with, Alisa's capacity for sensing and generating spatial distortions is several orders of magnitude stronger than that of the Gray.”

The commander gazed at the holo of Nera Thomas for a very long time, digesting the incredible revelations she'd just bestowed upon him. It was all too much for him to comprehend—Isaacs was a fighter pilot in a command position. His job and his training focused entirely on the mastery of flying and the intricacies of war and tactics. The few required science courses he'd taken at the Academy were largely centered on topics related to the operation and maintenance of the vessels he commanded.

“I guess that explains why Alisa was always given preferential treatment. Her own private quarters, why she was kept at arm's-length from other personnel, why High Command always cleaned up every little mess she made. To keep the data flowing in, you needed to keep her flying and fighting the Gray as much as possible.”

“Very good, Commander.”

“I just have one more question.” The commander drummed his fingertips on the surface of his desk and looked Nera squarely in the eye. “Why are you telling me all of this? I'm only the commander of a fighter wing—my security clearance is nowhere high enough for this information.”

“Rin confided in you. She told you her secret, she asked you to help them by sending the emergency message,” Nera told him. “That knowledge could kill both of them, not to mention cause a scandal beyond any the Alliance has faced in recent memory. She wouldn't have revealed it to you if she didn't trust you implicitly.”

“I'm flattered.”

“You should be.” The admiral's expression softened, becoming something that looked almost maternal. “Rin is by her very nature extremely protective of Alisa. That you were willing to risk your own standing to help them when you had little reason to do so would count for a lot in Rin's estimation. It certainly counts for a lot in mine.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Isaacs could see where she was headed with this. “What can I do to help them?”

“For now, nothing. All I can tell you is that they are safe for the moment. Until we trace the leak, find out who is behind this and deal with them appropriately, Alisa and Rin will continue to be in danger. I'll contact you again through this secure channel after we plan our next move.”

The commander held up his hand. “Admiral, wait. Before they were taken off the Infiltrator, Rin told me she had suspicions that Alisa's Lancer was deliberately sabotaged. She claimed to have copies of system dumps in order to prove it.”

“I'll inform my people. That data could be vital to identifying our unseen enemy.”

“I suppose that's it, then,” Isaacs said. “My apologies for taking up so much of your time, Admiral. Whatever you need me to do—testify in a hearing, get you data from the wing's battle logs—anything you need to help those two, just let me know.”

“This wasn't a waste of my time, Commander.” The holo image of Nera Thomas chuckled. “The more stalwart allies those two have, the better their chance to make it out of this disaster alive.”

05

Rin felt her eyes start to sting. moisture that threatened to send tears cascading forth as freely as the data that now flooded into her consciousness. Rin knew this woman—she didn't need analysis to determine that any longer. There wouldn't be any more search returns of an undefined nature. She knew without a doubt that she cared deeply for this person. Memories came rushing through her consciousness from within the unsealed partitions, bringing forth a tremendous swelling of emotion—joy, elation, longing.

This woman the very first person Rin had ever spoken to or interacted with. Eleven years ago, this woman was the person who gave her life.

“Mama,” Rin blurted, her lip wobbling as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Without even a moment's hesitation, the woman sprang from her chair and rushed forward, catching Rin up in a desperate, emotional embrace. The overwhelmed girl sniffled and felt hot lines of the inevitable tears trace down her cheeks. Hyun-ae pressed Rin's head against her chest and held her close.

“I never thought I'd get to see you again, Rin,” Hyun-ae breathed, the woman's own voice becoming tight with emotion. “Especially not like this, walking around in the world just like anyone else! Just look at you—so lovely and graceful! I just—I can't believe it's really you. It was all I could do to hold it together when you just showed up here.”

Rin laughed and wiped her eyes, attempting to disentangle herself from her “mother's” enthusiastic embrace. “It's really me, so believe it!”

“If you can remember me, then you should remember everything else. I know why you felt you had to do it, but it was painful. Not as painful as it could have been, knowing that you were happy and healthy and with someone who loved you, but it was hard.”

Rin's joyful expression faltered slightly. “I'm sorry, Mama—um, Hyun-ae.”

“You can call me that if you want to, dear.” Hyun-ae sat back down, this time on the couch next to Rin. “I've always thought of you as my daughter, and I'm so touched that you feel the same way. Nobody should have to go through life without family.”

Rin's cheeks flushed a faint pink. “O-okay… Mama. I'm really sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to keep Alisa safe and complete my mission.”

“I know,” Hyun-ae reassured her. “You just wanted to protect Alisa, so you made yourself forget all about what happened. You thought it was the best way for the two of you to live normal lives while the project continued.”

“Too late for that now. Our lives will never be normal again.” Rin turned to gaze at the door leading into the corridor, her thoughts turning dark. “Not as long as they keep trying to take Alisa away from me.”

“We can stop them, but it's going to take everything we've got,” Sara interjected, speaking for the first time since the emotional reunion of mother and daughter. “Now that you've got your memories back, you need to wake your lady up as soon as possible. The people after her aren't going to give up so easily.”

Rin turned to regard the woman curiously.

“What?” Sara stared back at her. “I told you once we got here you'd find out all the things you wanted to know. Well, now you know what's going on.”

“I still don't know what your stake in all of this is,” Rin pointed out. “Why are you so invested in Alisa's recovery?”

Hyun-ae glanced at Sara. “You haven't told her yet?”

“I didn't think it was relevant at the time.” The fringe troubleshooter looked as nervous as Rin had ever seen her, even more than during the incident with Jean and the Red Claw. “It's still not relevant. None of that stuff is going to matter until we finish this mission, so why bother going into the details now?”

“Sara, please,” Hyun-ae implored. “It's not going to hurt to tell Rin that you need their help with an important task. How else would they even agree to help you if you won't tell them what you need help with?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Do I need to remind you that this is my business?” Hyun-ae's voice grew sharp enough to slice through hull plating. “You're going to be asking them to risk their lives for the sake of someone they don't even know and have never even met. I think it'd go a long way to gaining their trust if you were more open and honest about your intentions.”

Rin blinked, confused. “What are you two arguing about?”

“Sara should be the one to tell you, sweetie.” Hyun-ae smoothed Rin's hair with slender fingertips and turned to glare at the fringe troubleshooter. “If she wants to keep her job, she should tell you immediately.”

“You're a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I do my best,” Hyun-ae said.

“Fine.” Sara stood up from her couch and started to pace across the lobby. “I'm being paid to do this job, of course, but the main reason I took it isn't the money. It's your girlfriend—well, her ability to sense certain things, anyway.”

Rin blinked at the nervous woman. “And you want Alisa to find someone for you? Using her ability to sense distortions?”

“Yeah. That's the idea. Hyun-ae is right—the person I'm looking for probably has the same ability your honey does. I'm pretty sure of it, anyway. I was her caretaker for a few years and we… we really bonded.”

“Her caretaker?” Rin's expression became curious. “You're searching for a child that was in your care?”

“Yeah. That's right. We were on one of the smaller free colonies, taking refuge from some people who wanted me dead, but then the damned Gray showed up and decided to destroy the settlement. I don't know where she went or how she escaped, but I know she's still alive. She has to be.”

“How do you know she has the same ability Alisa has?”

Sara shrugged. “She always knew when the Gray would show up to cause trouble, long before anyone else did or could. When I'd ask her about it, she said she could feel them when they came—a scary, cold feeling. It's the only reason I survived that attack.”

Rin studied the fringe troubleshooter curiously. She had the distinct feeling that Sara wasn't telling her everything—that there was much more to this story than even Hyun-ae knew, perhaps than anyone in the Alliance knew. During their time spent together, Rin found Sara to be an intensely private person and was singularly disinterested in sharing personal information.

“Section Zero agreed to help me find her, but It's not like they're being altruistic.” Sara stopped her pacing and plopped back down on the other couch. “I work for them, they help me, I find who I'm looking for and they run their tests and collect data for the research.”

“It may not matter much to you, Miss Loewe, but ending the war matters a great deal to humanity as a whole,” Hyun-ae pointed out. “If we can discover a way to communicate with the Gray, it will open up the possibility for diplomacy, negotiations to cease hostilities. Perhaps, someday, even peace.”

Rin was taken aback. She glanced at Hyun-ae, wondering what was truly going on in the woman's mind.

The possibility of diplomacy?

Negotiating a ceasefire?

With the Gray?

“That's a concept that may take some getting used to,” Rin commented. “The Gray have never shown themselves to be anything but hostile and completely dedicated to breaking the strength of the Alliance and humanity.”

Sara snorted. “I'd expect someone from Fleet to say something like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, Little Miss Alliance, is that we don't actually know what the Gray's true motivations are,” the fringe troubleshooter clarified. “Think about it for a moment—actually do the analysis on the numbers and not just the propaganda line the Alliance likes to spout to keep the patriotic fervor going.”

Rin felt no urge to argue; Sara had phrased her response well. She may have had a very human-like personality, but while humans might react with emotional appeals when put on the defensive, Rin would instead perform analysis.

“That's odd,” she murmured after a few seconds of intensive consideration.

“I told you, it doesn't make sense, does it?”

Rin's violet eyes locked onto Sara's face. “Why have I never attempted to analyze the problem from this angle before?”

“Probably because you've never had reason to.” The tough woman shrugged and sank deeper into the couch cushions. “The Gray have the numbers and the tech to wipe out the Alliance's strength, to break the back of humanity's military might—but they don't. We clash with them, relatively small-scale, here and there. Sometimes they go silent for years without a single major engagement.”

“Do you have any theories on their intentions?” Rin queried.

“I don't have much data to back it up, but Hyun-ae and most of Section Zero's top people agree with me.” Sara ran her hand through her dark brown hair. She reached into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a replica wick lighter. “People on the fringe get to see a different side of the Gray than the Fleet does. We can't fight them head-on, so we have to avoid them, stay hidden, try not to attract attention.”

Rin nodded. “Without the considerable military strength of the Alliance, you would have no other choice.”

“This is just a simple observation, probably not the whole story at all, but think about something else. How many Alliance colonies are on natively habitable planets? None, right? Sure, a few dozen worlds have been found, but they all seem to have something that keeps humans from setting up shop. Gravity's too high or we can't derive nutrients from the food or there's some toxic shit in the air.”

Rin had little trouble predicting Sara's conclusion. “The Gray are keeping us away from worlds that can support human life on their own. Worlds we won't need to terraform in order to support large, prosperous human settlements.”

“Bingo. Exactly correct.” Sara offered Rin an approving nod. “Now why would the Gray do something like that?”

Rin didn't respond immediately, instead spending a few moments continuing the analysis and simulation with a new set of variables. Her expression became pensive as she reached several conclusions.

“The most probable conclusion is that the Gray wish to prevent any sharp increases in human population.”

“Right again. Our population growth is checked pretty heavily by having to live in places that are best described as hellholes. If you add records of major Gray attacks to your analysis, you'll get an even clearer picture of the theory.”

“The Gray have completely destroyed one Alliance terrestrial colony in recorded history,” Rin observed, her lips pursing as she considered the problem. “The Vega colony, our first and only true success in settling an Earth-like planet.”

“So there you have it.” Sara placed her hands behind her head and leaned back in the couch, yawning as she did so. “It's not the whole story, I'm sure—no doubt the Gray have more than one objective—but it's interesting.”

“The 990 Census records the total human population as just above fifteen billion.” Rin frowned as she considered the theories Sara had put forth. The analysis results were circumstantial but certainly compelling. “The level of Gray aggression appears to rise proportionately with rapid rises in human population growth.”

Sara nodded. “As you can see, it's not quite as simple as the Alliance would like it to be, but the war is so ancient, so embedded in the consciousness of the average citizen that most people wouldn't even begin to imagine a scenario where we aren't fighting.”

“Why did Mama say it wouldn't matter to you?” Rin inquired, her tone faintly tinged with suspicion. “Humans usually don't spend this much mental effort and time in deliberation for concepts they have no interest in.”

“Because it doesn't.” Sara stood up and turned to Hyun-ae, clearly no longer interested in discussing the matter any further. “Am I flagged in the system for access yet?”

Hyun-ae tapped her TCC awake and scrolled through the access list. “Yes. The security system has been updated with your biometrics. You're free to enter the station's level one and two security areas. Don't try to go anywhere else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I take a wrong turn and I'll wake up in a cell with a headache the size of Deneb.” Sara walked toward the open door leading to the corridor. “I'm for the taproom. I don't plan to be sober for the rest of the night, so don't bother me until tomorrow afternoon.”

Rin watched the fringe troubleshooter walk out, a worrying eagerness in her step as she headed toward the station's small watering hole. She knew that humans often sought comfort when under tremendous amounts of stress, even if the comfort came from unhealthy sources, but it seemed to her that Sara was riding very close to the ragged edge.

“I know you just arrived and I don't want to push you, but you should try to help Alisa as soon as you can.” Hyun-ae pulled herself up from the couch and gestured to the door. “She's in the infirmary; it's in the level two access wing. Your old L6 authorization has been reinstated, so you can go anywhere in the facility.”

“Why did you limit Sara to level two access?”

Hyun-ae shrugged. “Her loyalty only extends as far as she can profit from it. This place is full of valuable data that would sell for much to interested parties. I don't trust her not to help herself in order to supplement her income. I'm sure you've noticed she harbors strong negative feelings for the Alliance and the Fleet in particular.”

Rin let out a derisive snort. “It's only been blindingly obvious.”

“Perhaps you should ask her why when you have a chance. For now, I'll show you to the infirmary where Alisa is being cared for. I have work that needs to be finished, so I'll leave you with her. You can access the network for a map of the facility—we've set up quarters for you and Alisa in the dormitory wing.”

[-]

Admiral Nera Thomas sighed and leaned back in her chair. The results from the ACS interrogation of the captured mercenaries hadn't been particularly edifying. Not that the surviving pilots were uncooperative—far from it. They were fringe trash, a small pirate gang from one of the larger free colonies.

None of them knew the identity of their client. They worked through intermediaries, paid to capture the Luminaire and deliver it and its crew to a neutral rendezvous point orbiting a nameless star two hundred light-years from Sirius. Still, it was more information than she had yesterday, and the mundane nature of the ACS-led investigation would not spook their unseen enemy. The real hunt would begin as soon as Rin managed to wake her counterpart.

There was a chirp from her console. Nera straightened in her chair and set the empty whiskey tumbler on a shelf underneath her desk, reshuffling her thoughts for whatever new task lay ahead.

“Enter.”

A man in an Alliance Fleet uniform strode inside—the Retribution's communications officer and Nera's personal adjutant.

“Admiral, General Samuels is here to speak with you.”

Nera suppressed a sigh. “Have him brought to the conference room on A Deck. I'll meet him there.”

“Yes, Admiral,” her adjutant said, saluting smartly. Nera pushed her chair from underneath the desk and stood, stretching her body out and sighing inwardly. If the general was coming to see her unannounced, it likely had to do with the project.

He probably wants to know what the hell is going on now that our experimental subject has become a fugitive on the run. The admiral knew otherwise, of course, but she couldn't exactly tell General Samuels that without putting Pierce at risk.

Nera eased herself to her feet and left the ready room, placing her XO in command of the Retribution while she went to meet with the general. Her walk through the corridors of A Deck felt entirely too short for her current mood.

A pair of marine honor guards stood at the door leading to the conference room. They saluted Nera, befitting her status as a flag officer in the Fleet, and the door slid open soundlessly. Nera walked inside and sealed the door behind her, using her command authorization to disable all active surveillance logging.

“You want to tell me just what the hell's going on, Admiral?” Samuels demanded without preamble.

“I'm not sure what you mean, General.”

“Don't play dumb. Your 'experimental subject' has flown the coop and I had to find out about it through ACS reports!” The supreme commander of the Alliance Marines looked angrier than Nera had ever seen him. “Why didn't you notify me as soon as this happened?”

“This project is not your responsibility; it is mine,” Nera retorted. “I cannot make overt or obvious moves if the project is to be kept secret until we've made a breakthrough. We will continue searching—quietly, mind you—for our missing subject.”

“Speaking of that,” Samuels said sourly, “how much more time until we have a working method?”

“If we manage to recover the subject within the next month… my chief researcher predicts a minimum of at least two years before we realize a working methodology. This is pioneering work, General, and our estimates are likely on the low side.”

“Two years?!” Samuels exploded. “You don't have two years, Admiral. You have six months at the most. Our fellows are growing increasingly impatient.”

“It'll take as long as it takes,” Nera pointed out. “None of it will matter in the slightest if we don't figure out how to safely reproduce the results in others.”

“Especially since your lab rat escaped her cage,” Samuels snapped. “This your fuck-up, Nera. As I'm sure you recall, I advised you multiple times to take direct control of the subject and place her under supervision.”

“And I already explained why that wasn't possible.” Nera fixed the general with a scathing glare. “To gather data on this phenomenon, we need unbiased combat data. We needed to expose the subject to as many battles with the Gray as possible without her knowing why.”

Samuels met her glare with one just as fierce. “These goals are not mutually exclusive, Admiral. It would be simple enough to reconfigure a frigate to operate as a mobile research laboratory. Have Pierce assigned to the vessel where she can be kept safely under careful observation and control.”

“Unbiased combat data. Results gathered in such a method would be naturally skewed.”

The general snorted. “Without your lab rat, you won't have any results.”

“Alisa Pierce isn't a lab rat, General. She's a person, a sapient being and a citizen of the Alliance.” Nera struggled against the sensation of indescribable weariness that threatened to overwhelm her. Samuels always wished to place Alisa fully within the strict supervision of the project, and with the recent crisis he sensed an opening.

“The benefits to humanity as a whole vastly outstrip the comfort of an individual, especially a member of the Alliance sworn to sacrifice her life for the safety and security of her species. Surely you can understand that.”

“I will not violate her basic rights,” Nera ground out, rapidly losing her patience with the obstinate man. “The experiment will proceed—from a distance—when this little bit of nonsense has been resolved.”

Samuels' face went livid. “You're asking far too much, Admiral.”

“That girl has suffered more than enough for the sake of the Alliance. I will not abandon by my decision to proceed as planned.”

“You're letting your personal feelings for Pierce cloud your judgment. I'm well aware that you and your family were involved with her when she was a child.”

“Perhaps,” Nera said coldly, “but this is my project, General, not yours. I am responsible for Section Zero. You would do well to remember that.”

Samuels tapped his own chest. “I have already submitted a preliminary proposal to the rest of High Command requesting a complete restructuring of Section Zero's command hierarchy.”

“Your proposal was denied,” Nera reminded him.

“It doesn't matter.” The general's smug tone was infuriating. “In light of this disaster, my words and warnings will have greater weight. The Alliance does not tolerate failure lightly, Admiral. If you cannot produce results and quickly, our peers may decide to reconsider.”

“Get off my ship, General,” Nera snarled. “Frankly, I'm almost happy that Alisa managed to disappear. I'd rather scrap the project and forget it ever existed than play a role in this disgraceful scene.”

If the insult affected Samuels, he certainly didn't show it. “You're too close to this, Admiral. Even you should be able to think about it rationally. Step down, let someone else perform this duty. Your emotional involvement precludes making the necessary sacrifices for the good of humanity and the Alliance.”

“Even if I were inclined to do that, I would not choose you,” Nera retorted. “I only revealed it to you in the first place because I had no choice.”

“Watch yourself, Admiral.”

Nera crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “Don't tell me how to do my job, General. Kindly remove yourself from my ship before I have you thrown off.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Don't push your luck.” Nera let out a sharp, unamused bark of laughter. “Next time you want to talk, make an appointment with my adjutant first. Now get out of here.”

General Samuels shot Nera an intensely frustrated glare, but he said nothing more. The man spun on his heel with flawless precision and walked through the door leading out of the conference room. The moment the door slid shut, she tapped a key on her console and opened a line to her XO.

“Commander, please make sure General Samuels leaves the Retribution as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Nera allowed herself a small smile. Most Fleet personnel would be intimidated by General Samuels, but her bridge crew, especially her executive officer, were a close-knit group that had flown together for decades. They were as tough and hard a crew as she'd ever seen or worked with, and none of them would think twice about standing up to Samuels.

A holo display materialized above the admiral's desk. It was only a few seconds before the image of a dark-haired woman appeared on the screen as the communications link was established.

“Admiral,” Hyun-ae murmured. “What can I help you with?”

“General Samuels is being a pain in the ass again.”

The researcher let out an unamused snort of laughter. “Again? Did he ever stop? What did your illustrious fellow High Command member want this time and, more importantly, why are you complaining to me about it?”

“The smug bastard actually showed up in person on the Retribution to interrogate me about Alisa's disappearance.”

“Don't tell me; I'm keen to guess.” Hyun-ae's exasperation was plain. “He told you that your estimates were outrageous, immediately demanded that we complete the research within an absurdly unrealistic timeframe and then…” She paused for a moment, adopting an exaggerated expression of deep thought. “Made some heavy-handed and unsubtle threats? How am I doing, Admiral?”

Nera sighed in disgust. “Spot on, of course. He also fired a warning shot; Samuels intends to appeal his restructuring proposal at the next convocation of Alliance High Command.”

“The situation has changed, obviously. They might take it seriously this time.”

“I know.” The admiral grimaced and leaned against the desk. Her brief but taxing encounter with her most strident critic within High Command had taken more out of her than she realized.

“I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you want me to prepare a summary of the experimental data so far,” Hyun-ae stated. “I hope you realize that will pull most of the team off the actual work of the project?”

“It's like you can read my mind.” Nera nodded at the image of her chief researcher and trusted right-hand. “You know I wouldn't ask this of you unless I felt it was absolutely necessary.”

“I know. Don't worry about it.” Hyun-ae sighed and drew in a long, slow breath. “We'll get it done, Admiral, just as we always do. Expect a hyperspace courier drone within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't mention it.” Hyun-ae forced a smile. “I assume you told Samuels nothing of Alisa and Rin's actual status?”

Nera snorted. “Of course not. I'm not giving him anything he can use against us. If he knew we were actively aiding her flight, he'd be calling for an emergency convocation tomorrow. It'd play right into his hands.”

“It's better for everyone to keep thinking in the wrong direction,” Hyun-ae mused, the stress and worry obvious in her voice. “The longer we maintain the fiction that Alisa is a fugitive from justice and Rin was destroyed on Sirius Colony, the better it will be for everyone involved.”

“You know as soon as Alisa wakes up and has time to catch her breath, Rin's going to be chomping at the bit to clear her partner's name.” The admiral paused for a moment, recalling what Commander Isaacs had told her. “Their former CO mentioned to me that Rin found evidence of sabotage and made copies of the Lancer's log files.”

Hyun-ae smiled proudly. “My girl's a sharp one.”

“You'll get no argument from me on that. We can play both ends of this against the middle, I think. I'm authorizing you to offer our friend from the fringe an additional hundred thousand to aid in the search.”

“That much?” The AI researcher whistled low. “Quite the tidy sum she'll be making off of us.”

“Her skills are more than worth the money, and I trust that she’ll put up with more when she's getting paid well.” Nera tapped her fingers against the desk, underscoring her impatience. “I'll let you get back to work.”

“Thank you, Admiral. I'll include a copy of Rin's data with the rest.”

The holo display vanished as the comm session terminated. Nera stood up and stalked out of the conference room, heading back for the bridge. The unexpected confrontation with General Samuels had put her on her guard. Not only was there an unseen enemy lurking in the shadows trying to obtain Alisa for their own purposes, but she had to fend off the ambitious general's blatant grab for power.

Nera nodded to her executive officer as she returned to the bridge. The young woman nodded and gave her a reassuring wink, green eyes twinkling. The admiral had to work hard to keep a smile from forming.

“Thank you, Commander, you can return to your regular duties,” Nera said, slipping back into her command persona. “Has General Samuels left the Retribution?”

“Yes, Admiral. General Samuels' personal shuttle launched ten minutes ago. We tracked it on a direct course for the local hypergate.”

“Heading back to Eden Colony, I'm sure,” Nera murmured almost to herself. No doubt the good general would return to the Alliance's center of government and make some annoying noises to the bureaucracy, but it would be a minor inconvenience at worst.

Samuels will keep—his actions aren't going to take us off-guard so long as he's forced to go through proper channels. Our enemy in the shadows is a far more dangerous threat.

“Your orders, Admiral?”

Nera smiled. “Let's get back to work, Commander.”

06

Rin entered the infirmary using her reauthorized security clearance. Unlike the pass given temporarily to Sara, Rin's access was coded into the system. This was the place where she was awakened to sapience, the place where Hyun-ae created her, almost twelve years ago, for the important task of guiding a young Alisa Pierce back to reality.

Standing next to Alisa's unmoving form, Rin was struck by how peaceful she looked. She still looked as if she were only asleep, her breathing coming in slow, regular intervals. Her cheeks were flushed slightly pink, standing out against her tawny complexion. There were no dark circles under her eyes nor did her lips appear bloodless and grainy. Alisa looked nothing like a person locked within a prison of her own mind.

“I'm going to bring you back to me now, love.”

With the sealed blocks 7799 and 7800 unlocked and re-integrated into her lattice diagram, Rin knew she would be repeating her original mission once again. Rin fervently hoped that her prior knowledge and experience in this matter would ensure success.

What I had to do…

No. Rin shook her head, forcing her consciousness to avoid even considering doing such a thing again. She would guide Alisa back into the world whole, leaving nothing behind. The very last thing she wanted was for Alisa to experience the pain of loss all over again.

Pulling a nearby chair to rest beside the hospital bed, Rin sat down. She couldn't get tired, of course, but what she was about to do would strain every single process, saturate every single subroutine and tax all of her processing ability to the absolute maximum. With all of her resources so singularly dedicated to the task of guiding Alisa back, her body would be unable to maintain its balance.

“Wait for me, Alisa.”

Rin closed her eyes. With a single, decisive mental command, she deepened the neural link to the point of full saturation and dove through.

[-]

Rin opened her eyes. She was somewhere else.

Looking down at her body, Rin noticed she was no longer wearing the leggings and jacket that Sara provided her. Instead, she was clothed lightly in a frill-trimmed pink sundress—the very same one Alisa gifted to her holo-projection so many years ago. Her feet were bare as she stood in a small yard planted with a carpet of velvety pale blue grass.

The yard belonged to a small house, a narrow two-story dwelling constructed in the modern architectural style popular on Alliance colonies for the past few decades. Fresh paint in pale mint-green complimented the landscaping, forming a soothing color palette of cool blues and greens mixed with earthen brown and gray tones.

“So this was Alisa's home.”

Rin took a careful step, feeling the sensation under her feet change as the grass gave way to plasticrete. The lightweight material was strong and rough, perfect for roads and sidewalk surfaces inside free-orbital colonies.

The sky above was dotted with small fluffy clouds. It was a simulation that covered the metallic ceiling of Sirius Colony, but to Rin's eyes it appeared to be perfectly seamless and natural, like one might expect to witness on Earth. A breeze wafted through the street and blew locks of shimmery jet-black hair around her face.

She walked up to the front door of the house that Alisa had once lived in. Unsure of exactly what she should do, Rin pressed the door buzzer, but she could detect no current running through the device. The auto-lock panel's display was dark.

“Remember, this isn't real,” Rin told herself. Her thoughts manifested as speech from her own perspective. “This is a recreation in Alisa's mind, her dreams. Things won't work the way they normally do in the real world…”

Slender fingers pressed against the door, painted and textured to resemble wood, and it swung open soundlessly. Rin peered inside the foyer of the cozy little home, but couldn't make out anything within the dim and indistinct haze.

Her enhanced visual modes that allowed her to see into the infrared and ultraviolet spectrum would be useless here. This world was a construct of Alisa's traumatized mind and Alisa was human, limited to the reds, blues and greens of “visible” light. Rin would only be able to see what Alisa could imagine.

“Alisa?”

There was no answer.

“Alisa? Are you there?” Rin called out into the gloom. “It's me—it's Rin! Please answer me, love. Help me find you so I can guide you back to me, back to the world.”

The shifting, twisting gloom was Rin's only response. She squared her shoulders and pressed forward, unwilling to yield before the dream world forged from Alisa's private fears and insecurities.

Inside the foyer, the gloom became even more oppressive. Were this place real, her visual sensors would have adapted to the decrease in brightness. There was almost no ambient noise, either—all Rin could hear was the low humming of the kitchen appliances through the dining room. She walked out of the foyer and into the main room of the house, absorbing the details of her new surroundings.

The kitchen was large and well-stocked. There was power here, of a sort—the stasis unit's indicator LEDs glowed green. She could hear the faint whine of the device's cooler compressor turning over. Two comm handsets of civilian manufacture sat on the bar-height countertop, plugged into their chargers near a multipurpose socket.

A faint, ghostly glow caught Rin's attention. On the synth-wood dining table lay a large tablet computer, the device unlocked and the display powered on. She approached the tab and glanced at the screen.

it's my fault my fault my fault myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault—

Rin's eyes narrowed to violet slits. The tab was not real. It was a creation of Alisa's wounded psyche. The bold red lettering that filled the entire device's display was the exact same typeface used in Alliance simulators to display a mission failure message.

She reached out to toggle the sleep/wake button on the tab's edge, but her fingers passed through it as if it wasn't even there. The tab seemed to dissolve into a wisp of acrid, pale gray smoke. Rin recognized the smell as the distinctive scent left behind after a linear accelerator weapon was discharged in a standard nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere.

There was nothing else on the table.

Rin turned and walked away from the kitchen. She had no knowledge of this house's layout, but it wasn't all that large—searching it from top to bottom wouldn't take much time at all. Proceeding logically and methodically, she continued to search the ground floor.

A large holo display dominated the living room, a fairly ordinary fixture in the average Alliance citizen's home. It would be connected to the home's main network terminal and in turn to the wider comm network. But in this dream-world, the holo display wasn't connected to anything. Out of curiosity, Rin reached over and pressed the power button.

The display remained dark, but a chime sounded—one that she recognized as the alert sound produced by standard Fleet tactical systems. The same sound that had peppered them both in the cockpit of the Lancer during that catastrophic battle.

Rin turned to peer into the gloom down the corridor. There was no other choice but to keep going. Her slender bare feet sank into the plush carpeting. The walls of the hallway seemed to exude what appeared to be darkness made physical, but Rin caught an unwelcome scent. It was both metallic and cloyingly sweet all at once. She reached out, brushing the fingertips of her right hand across the wall of the hallway—

And immediately recoiled. The surface of the wall should have felt flat, dry and slightly textured from the paint over the composite paneling, but instead it was warm, yielding and wet. Slightly sticky. She brought her right hand close to her face and felt a very human-like chill run through her consciousness.

Fresh, bright crimson coated her hand. The blood dripped down off her slender fingers and onto the carpet, more blood than could possibly have coated her small hand. She could feel the sudden shift as the soft mass of cloth fibers beneath her became warm and liquid. It coated her soles, seeped between her toes as it seeped up, engulfing her feet nearly to her ankles.

Rin stood in a sea of blood.

In the gloom, she could see the faint light reflecting off the red surface. The blood was stagnant, the surface absolutely still and unbroken, reflecting pallid light amidst the gloom. She shifted her weight and took a step, sloshing the liquid further up her ankles. Amethyst eyes narrowed to slits, her resolve only hardening further the more disturbing the dream-world became.

“Alisa!” Rin cried. “Where are you?!”

No response.

Trudging through blood river that replaced the luxurious carpeting, Rin steadfastly refused to allow the conjured terrors to find purchase on her heart. The house that Alisa spent her teenage years in was a three-bedroom affair. The master bedroom was apparently on the first floor, with the other two situated above. Rin stopped at the bedroom at the end of the hallway, ignoring the more narrow closet doors.

She pushed her blood-soaked hand against the door and it opened soundlessly, leaving a small handprint in crimson on the attractively stained paneling. The gloom seemed to lair within the room, but as Rin stepped through the threshold, it receded as if fleeing her presence.

Inside was a small, tidy home office. Two people stood in the center of the room, but neither were Alisa. Rin recognized them as Alisa's foster parents. They didn't react to Rin at all as they moved within the hazy and indistinct space. It was like she was watching the ghost of a memory without any real substance. They moved and interacted with each other, but did not disturb the glass-smooth surface of the blood pooling around Rin's ankles.

The man shouted angrily, but Rin couldn't decipher his words into any language she'd ever heard. They were nothing but distorted gibberish, sounds that held no logical meaning and only violent negative emotions.

Alisa's foster father was shouting at his wife. The woman cringed fearfully, her eyes reddened and tears flowing freely down her face. Her husband lashed out with his hand in addition to his voice, his open palm connecting with the crying woman's cheek, imparting enough force to knock her from her feet.

She struggled to stand, shouting distorted non-words back at her enraged husband, but that only seemed to incense him further. The man strode over to his wife with vicious and single-minded purpose. He kicked her in the stomach repeatedly, railing at her, the hard toe of his dress shoe striking her again and again.

Rin remained where she was. Perhaps if she were human and not an AI, she would have felt the irrational and emotional desire to tear Lewis away from his wife, to physically rebuke him and comfort the battered woman. But there was nothing Rin could do to change something that already happened.

The gloom shrouding the far wall deepened, seeming to leach out of the paneling and encircle Lewis, deepening the darkness that clung to his shade like a grim halo. The man's dead eyes turned to stare through Rin as if she weren't even there.

A solid impact rocked the front door of the house and a figure rushed up the stairs. It was Alisa, but not the one Rin was searching for.

The ghostly image of the teenage Alisa was almost as short as Rin, with gangly long limbs and an awkward figure that was only just beginning to fill out. She was clad in the uniform of the block's local primary academy. The navy-blue skirt fluttered around her hips as she rushed toward her mother.

The teenage Alisa shouted something at her foster father as she knelt beside her mother, trying to wipe up the blood dripping from the woman's mouth. Rin watched, unable to look away, as the memory continued to play out.

Lewis reached inside his expensive tailored dress jacket. When his hand emerged it clutched a small linear accelerator pistol. Pure rage given voice exploded from his throat as he railed at both his wife and adopted daughter. The barrel of the pistol shook violently as he lifted it up, his finger tightening against the trigger—

Rin turned to walk out of the room as the shades of memory vanished, the room replaced by hazy darkness. There was an odd precision to the way the recollection was suddenly cut off, but it was something she'd fully expected to happen. Alisa's mind could only create what it knew, after all, and she didn't know what happened after that moment.

The gloom swallowed up the room behind her as Rin walked out, her feet splashing in the sea of blood as she headed for the stairs. One step after another, she walked down the staircase, returning to the first floor. Her feet were coated in red that darkened rapidly as it was exposed to air, becoming a rich reddish-brown in color.

The color of Alisa's hair.

The ground floor was divided roughly in half by a dividing wall with a wide-open archway leading into the kitchen. On the other side was a door leading to the home's master bedroom. Rin's blood-stained feet touched against carpeting again. She was more than a little relieved to no longer stand ankle-deep in blood, even if it was only an illusion.

The first-floor bedroom door was already open. Rin peered inside and was almost surprised at the decor. As a teenager, Alisa had been quite a bit more stereotypically girlish than she would become as an adult. The room was liberally draped in shades of pinks, violets and mint green. Hand-made dresses, blouses and skirts were hanging from hooks on the walls, from the tops of the closet door, some of them in various stages of completion.

Rin walked inside Alisa's bedroom and studied the desk in the corner. It was an old-fashioned writing desk, not the usual sort outfitted with a holo projector and a network terminal. A standard tablet computer sat on the desk under a thin coating of dust, next to a larger tab with a digitizer pen sitting atop it.

Tapping the sleep/wake button, Rin felt a warm smile curve her lips as she examined the contents of the screen. The device was opened up to a folder containing dozens of sketches made with the digitizer pen and the tab's drawing software. She tapped one of the images and zoomed in, paging through sketch after sketch. They were all drawings of dresses ranging from simple and casual to elegant and ornate, many heavily embellished with lace and frills.

Most of the sketches contained notes on measurements, fabric types and ideas on sewing methods. The whitespace around each sketch was covered in garment fabricator programming code, all neatly handwritten in a small and rounded script.

Seeing Alisa's memories so plainly, bared for the most intense scrutiny, spawned a strange emotion in Rin. These were the things Alisa wouldn't even think about, much less talk about. As Rin traveled through the dream world formed by Alisa's memories, she learned things she had never known.

One of the completed dresses caught Rin's eye. She reached up to take it down, examining the garment while indescribable feelings churned through her mind. It was almost identical in design to the dress Rin obtained during her little misadventure on Sirius Colony.

“Maybe this is why I felt drawn to it,” she murmured aloud. The soft, silky fabric of the dress in her hand became lighter, more insubstantial than before, as the memories around her began to dissolve into the gloom. The hazy dream-stuff coalesced around her hands, spreading over her body. It poured outward, leaching across the floor, crawling up the walls until she could see nothing but a dim gray void.

Rin was somewhere else again.

The house was gone now, replaced by the jewel-studded black velvet of interstellar space. She lifted her hand, no longer bare but encased in the gloves of a pilot's hardsuit, and took stock of her new surroundings.

The Lancer's cockpit felt comforting around her. Rin could see where they were through the shell display. The familiar configuration of stars, the presence of extensive battle debris…

She was in Alisa's memory of the battle where Lindy was killed.

Neither the tactical display nor the nav console were visible, an impossible occurrence in an actual Alliance space-faring vessel. Glancing at the shell display once more, Rin could see another vessel, another Lancer-class starfighter. The markings on the dagger-shaped hull identified the ship as belonging to Delta Four.

Rin unbuckled her crash harness and slid out from the stabilizing cushions of the copilot's chair. This was Alisa's mind, yes, but through the saturated neural link, Rin was fully within it. It might be possible for her to take some measure of control. Experimentally, she reached out to touch the shell display and pushed lightly—

And was pulled through the Lancer's command module as if it wasn't even there. Rin hung in the velvet starry expanse, her eyes locking onto the blasted remains of Lindy's starfighter. She willed herself to move through the void and found that she could. It was only seconds later that the damaged Lancer was consumed by gray haze. When Rin reached her destination, the fighter was gone, replaced with melted composites, shredded debris and rent armor plates.

The blasted shrapnel orbited slowly around a figure clad in a Fleet-issue hardsuit and pressure garment. She couldn't see the person's features beneath the helmet, the visor's silvered and polarized exterior reflecting light, but it didn't matter. Rin knew this was the center of it all, the source of Alisa's mental prison.

Slender, gloved fingers caught spinning chunks of twisted plating, shoving them aside. Rin worked tirelessly to clear a path through the whirling sphere of metal and memory. It was slow work from Rin's perspective, but her internal clock routines told her only a few moments had passed.

Preparing herself for what she had to do next, Rin floated nearer to Alisa—to the internal representation of her essence. This was the core of what made Alisa everything that she was, had been and would be. This cognitive construct, this human analogue to Rin's own lattice diagram, the very pattern she was originally birthed from, was the closest thing there was to a soul.

“Alisa,” Rin murmured. She spoke not with her voice, but her mind. The vacuum of space that could not propagate sound waves was irrelevant.

“It's my fault,” Alisa's mental voice whispered, over and over. “My fault. My fault. My fault…”

“Alisa!”

Rin reached out and grasped the helmet covering Alisa's head. Her fingers expertly manipulated the seal catch, releasing the hardsuit's hold. Gently she removed the helmet and shoved it aside, letting it float away until it joined the orbiting debris shell.

Alisa's face was ashen. Her cheeks were pale and drawn, her lips cracked and dry. The color seemed to have been sucked out of her, leaving her appearing drained, as if a vampire of legend gorged itself on her life energy.

“Alisa, it's me!” Rin cried. “It's Rin. I'm here with you.”

Stormy eyes seemed to glint in the starlight. “Rin…?”

“Yes, love. I'm here. I'm right here.”

Alisa seemed to stare right through her. Rin's lattice diagram was abruptly overwhelmed with the crushing weight of her partner's guilt, fear and anxiety. Loneliness burned from the center of Alisa's being with the intensity of a young star.

“Alisa, please. It's not your fault.”

Slender arms wrapped around Alisa's body, drawing her close. A deep chill radiated from her body, but Rin ignored it, pushed through it, paid no attention at all to the infinite depth of negative emotion. She didn't accept it, didn't allow it inside her lattice diagram to be converted to data that her processing cores would be unable to define.

“—myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault—”

Rin took her partner's chin between the fingers of her right hand and forced Alisa to look at her, to really look at her and see her. There was a flicker of recognition as the gray irises slowly lost their glassy luster.

“No, Alisa, it is not your fault.” Rin put as much steel in her tone as she could. “It was not your fault that the Gray attacked Proxima Station and slaughtered ten million people, including your family. It was not your fault that your foster father abused his wife and killed her when you tried to protect her. It was not your fault that Flight Officer Daniels got himself killed.”

Alisa froze, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Her head tilted, lending her a quizzical look—a habit she'd had as a kid, to cant her head to one side when something perplexed her. An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through Rin's mind as she finally managed to reconnect with her precious partner.

“It was not your fault that Lindy Meyers died.”

Fear crept into Alisa's voice. “But… I shot her. Didn't I?”

The memory was faint, indistinct. Alisa was barely holding onto it, her grasp so tenuous that she might have eventually lost it all on her own. It would be so easy to just—

No, I won't do it that way this time.

“Yes, you did hit her ship with that shot,” Rin agreed. “However, that would never have happened if someone hadn't sabotaged our Lancer. Someone else committed the act that resulted in Lindy's death.”

“Someone… else?”

“Yes, love. Someone else. Someone on the Infiltrator intentionally altered the tracking systems for the heavy linear cannon. So that you would not hit your targets, so that you would instead hit your allies, or nothing at all.”

The orbiting shell of debris surrounding and imprisoning Alisa's mind started to break apart. Pieces began to drift away, no longer held around her by guilt. It started slowly, subtly, but Rin could sense it in her very being.

Tears started to well in Alisa's eyes. The moisture gathered into small, perfect spheres that glittered in the starlight. Rin reached out and brushed the tears away.

“I want you to come back to me, Alisa.”

“I'm scared.”

“That's fine. I'm scared, too,” Rin whispered, clutching Alisa more tightly to her. Warmth spread from Rin's psychic body into her partner's. The color slowly returned to Alisa's face; ashen gray was saturated with life and love as Rin poured soothing thoughts and positive emotion through the link between them.

“I need you, Alisa. You're my everything. Without you, I wouldn't be able to keep on living. Please, don't leave me!”

Violet eyes squeezed shut, releasing sparkling spheres into the void.

“Stay with me forever!”

More and more pieces of the prison broke out of their orbit. The speed at which the shell rotated increased rapidly, flinging pieces away with impossible velocity. Rin watched as her partner let go of the broken things, disintegrating into wisps of hazy gloom that vanished into nothing.

“It's okay to be scared.” Rin's voice was strong and clear but gentle. “Everybody gets scared. Even me.” She reached up to brush tangled, sweat-matted hair from Alisa's face. The darkness of deep space wavered, twisted, faded into the gloom.

They were somewhere else.

Rin found herself wearing the pink dress from the Sirius seamstress' shop. Alisa's image changed as well—she was no longer outfitted for battle in her hardsuit, but instead was clothed in her favorite dark gray dress with the deep purple sash. The scent of flowers, of beautiful roses, saturated the bandwidth of her olfactory sensors. They stood on a great circular slab of stone in the center of Sirius Colony's rose garden.

This memory…

“When I'm with you, when I'm linked to you, I feel… complete,” Alisa said, releasing Rin from the mutual embrace as she stepped back. “It's as if a great rush of life and joy fills me up from inside, pushing me to grow and grow.”

The skirt of her dress fluttered as she walked around the edge of the stone circle. She knelt down to inhale the perfume of a beautiful white rose with deep purple staining the edges of the petals.

Rin giggled softly through her tears. “I do, too.”

“Thank you.” Alisa smiled warmly at her partner. “For everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

Alisa's arms wrapped around Rin's body and pulled her close, enfolding her with gentle strength. Looking up at the person she loved more than anything, Rin let her eyes close as warm lips pressed against hers. She could taste the barest hint of salt on her partner's lips. Intense cascades of love and happiness enveloped her mind.

They were both lost within themselves. Neither could form discrete thoughts, their hearts separated from the logical and the real within this sad world of dream and memory created inside Alisa's mind. Rin's simulated physical perceptions of the deep link were cast away in the brilliant and pure light.

[-]

Rin's eyes snapped open.

The small infirmary room was dimly lit, the light panels kept in low-power mode as to not disturb anyone who might be sleeping. Rin had little trouble seeing, her enhanced visual modes mapping out an image of the place with accuracy far beyond what a human could manage.

The life-support monitoring equipment let out the same soft beep it always had. This didn't surprise Rin at all—physically there was nothing wrong with Alisa. It had all been from within… but no longer.

Stiffly, moving with exaggerated care and slowness, Alisa's body shifted on the hospital bed. Her gray eyes fluttered open after a moment and she let out a soft groan as she struggled to reassert control over a body that was stiff from weeks of disuse.

“Alisa.” Rin sniffled, knowing and not caring that her eyes welled up with tears. “Oh, Alisa! Alisa! I'm so happy you're back! I was so lonely without you, not feeling you through the link, having no idea what you were thinking or how you were feeling and I didn't know what to do most of the time but I think I managed okay anyway since you're safe now and awake and back with me and oh, oh, Alisa—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alisa couldn't help but smile as the words tumbled rapidly out of Rin's mouth. “I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to make you worry so much about me.”

“I know. It wasn't your fault.”

Before Alisa knew what was happening, Rin was climbing up onto the hospital bed, curling around her protectively. She chuckled at the silly girl trying to cram herself on the narrow bed and nestled in more closely to her love's petite form.

“I feel really weak,” Alisa announced. “My arms and legs don't want to do what I tell them.”

“Small wonder. You haven't moved under your own power in almost a month.” Rin buried her face in Alisa's reddish-brown locks, breathing deeply of her partner's scent. She wrinkled her nose and made a face. “Or had much in the way of baths, either.”

“So… where are we?”

“That's… kind of a long story,” Rin hedged, unwilling to saddle her partner with new worries so soon after waking up. “We're somewhere absolutely safe, though, and I'm sure the doctor here will be able to run you through a regeneration cycle to counteract the muscle atrophy.”

Alisa's expression was sour. “I hate those tubes, but I hate not being able to move even more.”

“How do you feel?” Rin inquired. “I don't mean your body—I mean, how do you feel, well, emotionally? Do you still… blame yourself for Lindy's death?”

“I don't think I'll ever be able to forget what happened.” Alisa's expression became pensive. “It's not ruling over me, though—I mean, logically speaking, it was my impactor that hit her Lancer and destroyed it… wait.” She stopped suddenly, an astonished expression dawning across her face. “No. That's not right.”

“What isn't right?”

“My impactor hit Delta Four's Lancer,” Alisa said, “but could it really have caused Lindy's ship to blow up like that?”

“The heavy impactor strikes with a force equivalent to ten kilotons—”

Alisa shook her head. “No, that's not what I mean. You made copies of the system logs, right? All of them?”

“Of course, I mean, I had some suspicions,” Rin replied, her expression puzzled. “The tactical and diagnostic logs were pretty illustrative of sabotage. The heavy linear cannon's aim point had drifted by 3.91 micrometers.”

“You missed it, too,” Alisa mused.

“Missed what?”

“Go over the sensor logs.” Alisa's gray eyes hardened as she disentangled herself from Rin's embrace. Sitting up in the bed was difficult, but a fresh surge of anger poured power into her weakened limbs. “See if there's anything we picked up there about the catch rate estimations during the uncontrolled antimatter reaction.”

“What are you—” Rin broke off suddenly, her eyes widening in shock as she ran a search through the sensor readings. The discrepancy was obvious but at the same time unlikely to have been caught until it was far too late. “You're right. This shouldn't be possible. There's no way that an antimatter furnace would do that, even if the entire ship was melted to slag by a destroyer's particle beam.”

“We weren't the only ones flying a tampered fighter.” Alisa's sigh was deep, but Rin could feel the anger seething from the link between then, deep and hot. “What did the logs say about the catch rate?”

“The mean estimation was 7800 percent.” Rin shook her head in slow wonderment. “Those are the kind of numbers you'd expect to see during the ignition of a positron bomb, not the furnace of a starfighter. Worst case scenario, the reaction rate might have rose to four or five hundred percent, assuming the magnetic containment bottle failed completely.”

“That pretty much cinches it: whoever was behind the sabotage intended Delta Four to die no matter what.” Alisa tried to turn and slide off the hospital bed, but her legs were still far too weak. “I can't do anything like this. Never thought I'd actually be looking forward to the damn tube.”

Rin nodded. “I'll call for the doctor.”

07

When Alisa next opened her eyes, she was leaning against the angled glass tube of the regeneration chamber. The fluid had already drained away and the hatch swung open. She reached out and grasped the edge, levering herself out with ease. Her limbs felt loose and limber once again after a thirty-six hour dunk in the green stuff.

“I need a shower,” Alisa grumbled.

“There's one in the corner over there above the reclamation grate,” Rin told her, waving to a small niche to Alisa's right. “How are you feeling?”

“Much stronger.” She padded over toward the niche, feeling the regeneration fluid grow sticky and viscous on her flesh. It felt as if she'd been coated in rapidly-drying honey, if honey were bright green and smelled like hospital. Hot water cascaded from the shower head with a single tap on the control panel.

“Here's some soap.” Rin held out a small container of special skin and hair wash used in the reclamation process. Alisa took the offered bottle and squirted a generous dollop into her hands, working it over her skin and hair until she could feel no trace of the sticky substance. The foam was stained a pale green as it washed away down the grate where a purifier would separate the soap and any other foreign material from the regeneration fluid and filter it for reuse.

Alisa cut off the water, feeling much better now. Her body was once again receptive to her mind's commands; as usual after a dunk in the green goo, she felt at her physical prime. The blast of warm air from above dried her off quickly, but she stepped out from beneath it before her hair started to frizz.

“My hair's a mess,” she complained.

“You can fix it later.” Rin held a tablet computer in her hand and waved the device in Alisa's direction. “I compiled all the relevant log data in readable form so we can all take a look at it and decide what our next move should be.”

“We?” Alisa echoed.

“You didn't think I escaped ACS custody, got you off of Sirius Colony and fixed your implant all by myself, did you?”

“Well, no, it's just… give me a break, Rin, I've been out for almost a month.” She ran her hands through her hair, almost certain it was going to inevitably frizz out, but there was little she could do about it. “Ugh. Not looking forward to meeting new people with my hair a mess like this.”

“Here.” Rin extended a hand, handing her partner a pink ruffled ponytail band. Alisa smiled, recognizing one of the accessories Rin occasionally used to experiment with different hairstyles. She pulled the mass of curls back and tied them down securely into a messy but serviceable bun.

“Thanks. Can we go get something to eat now? I haven't eaten real food in over a month, either.”

“I thought you'd ask. I'll have something brought to the conference room.”

Alisa rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Rin, I just woke up from a nightmare so bad that it lasted three and a half weeks. I'm not entirely processing on all cores just yet. Can we please slow down a little?”

“I'd like nothing better, but it wasn't my decision.”

Alisa didn't respond immediately, instead studying her partner's expression. Being an artificial intelligence, one might expect Rin to have a flawless poker face. For the most part it was reasonably accurate—she could control her emotions far more tightly than most people. But the more Rin's lattice diagram evolved to resemble that of a human mind, the more obvious her feelings were, especially to Alisa.

Rin was not currently wearing a poker face. Her gaze was hard and flinty, eyes narrowed slightly beneath a barely-contained scowl. Rin's manner exuded impatience, which wasn't out of character for an easily-bored consciousness that operated at a much higher rate than a human mind, but the simmering rage was.

“Are you okay?”

“Just fine,” Rin replied, her tone clipped.

“You don't look or feel 'just fine,' love. That active neutral signal you're putting out isn't really insulating me from the heat of your anger.” Alisa took her undergarments off the pile of clothing set out for her and slipped them on.

Rin's expression softened a bit. “I'm not angry with you.”

“That's obvious.” Alisa pulled a fitted black shirt over her head and tugged it down around her waist. “You need to calm down and think about things rationally.” She broke off and chuckled ruefully. “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“You know as well as I do that the more my functions integrate into the lattice, the less direct control I have,” Rin retorted. “And before you say anything, no, it doesn't bother me, even if it means I'm losing the ability to ignore involuntary emotional responses to stressful situations.”

“It doesn't bother me, either.” Alisa pushed herself up on the edge of the exam table near the regeneration tank and pulled her boots on. She snapped the self-seals shut and stamped her feet against the deck plating experimentally. “Feels good to feel my own body again.”

“I'm glad you're back, Alisa. I missed you so much. No matter how crazy things have gotten, just being able to see you, hear you speak, feel your touch and share your thoughts and feelings through the link…”

“I know,” Alisa agreed, leaning forward to kiss Rin's cheek lightly. “Everything may be coming down around our ears, but we still have each other.”

“Mm. I hope we can get a little time to ourselves before we do… whatever it is we'll be doing next.” Rin's cheeks flushed a bright pink, the brush of her partner's soft lips radiating warmth through her heart. “Ready to find out what that whatever is?”

Alisa nodded as she took Rin's outstretched hand.

“I'm ready to go. I hope this place has decent food.”

[-]

The food was surprisingly decent. Alisa stabbed her fork into a piece of grilled meat that had been marinated in a tangy-sweet soy sauce glaze. The Korean-style meal was rounded out with well-fermented kimchi and a small bowl of multigrain rice, the presence of black rice staining the white grains a light purple.

Dunking the slice of grilled beef into a fiery dipping sauce of chilies and garlic, Alisa did her best to keep her attention on the task at hand. Rin sat to her right at the long conference table, with two other women across from them. Neither of them were familiar to Alisa, but Rin seemed to know them both—especially the dark-haired woman in the white coat.

“My apologies for not allowing you to eat in peace, but time is short,” the white-coated woman began. “First, we should start with introductions. My name is Seo Hyun-ae, chief projects researcher and director of the Alliance Central Intelligence Special Duty Section Zero. This is Sara Loewe, a freelance agent on retainer with the same.”

Alisa blinked. “So Section Zero is real.”

“Indeed, though we're far more mundane than the rumors suggest,” Hyun-ae replied, suppressing an awkward giggle that Alisa found astonishingly familiar. “Section Zero's purpose is the study of captured Gray technology.”

“Reasonable.” Alisa turned her gaze to the other woman across the table. It was difficult to tell from her face, but Alisa suspected this woman was much older than anyone else present. Her face was unlined, but the freelance agent wore her many years of life in her manner and expression.

“It's nice to finally stop carting your body around everywhere.” Sara offered Alisa a hard-edged look. “It was me who got you and Rin out of the hospital and off Sirius Colony. I was also the one who fixed your implant after that idiot fried it.”

“Thank you for saving me.” Alisa's smile was warm and genuine. “I guess that means I owe you one.”

“Didn't do it for you, so don't worry about that,” Sara said, shrugging as if she didn't care. “Miss Director over there makes sure the credits keep rolling in.”

“Regardless, my gratitude still stands.” Alisa's smile shrank almost imperceptibly. “Not to mention the service you're doing for the Alliance by opposing the traitors responsible for this whole mess.”

“Not interested,” Sara snapped. “If the money wasn't this good, I would be the last person to help the Alliance.”

Alisa flinched as if she'd been burned by the fringe troubleshooter's words, taken completely aback by Sara's sudden hostility. Rin and Hyun-ae both simultaneously turned to fix the woman with harsh glares.

“No civilization will ever or can ever be perfect,” Hyun-ae pointed out. “Humans are imperfect creatures—it only follows that any creation of ours will also be flawed.”

Sara didn't respond to that.

“What's your problem with the Alliance?” Alisa demanded. “No society is perfect, sure, but how about you try supporting and governing an entire civilization’s worth of people. You trying to tell me that the bandit colonies do it better?”

“Just what I'd expect from a privileged military brat.” The fringe troubleshooter threw her hands up in exasperation. “The free colonies may be harsh, but at least we get to decide our own fates instead of having some giant emotionless SI collective telling us what to do and when to do it, all for the profit of the plutocratic elite—”

“Sara,” Rin growled in a warning tone.

“If what you call 'freedom' means rampant poverty, starvation, slavery, murder and rape, you can keep it.” Alisa crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, do I really have to sit here and listen to this garbage from—”

“Alisa, please.” Rin squeezed her partner's hand and sighed. “Sara has a right to be upset with the Alliance. Her anger comes from a valid place—trust me, love, I've seen it with my own eyes. There are so many who are suffering that desperately need help.”

“And the Alliance does nothing,” Sara added, her fury fading slightly. “Look, I don't want to fight with you on this. I've got a job to do and I'm going to do it. Hyun-ae extended my contract for another hundred thousand, so I'm all in for whatever we've got to get done.”

“Good,” Hyun-ae said, pleased that the argument burned out quickly. “Consider the fact that by working for us, you are actively fighting against the very corruption you despise. These crimes would have been impossible to perpetrate without the aid of someone very highly placed within the Alliance government.”

“Fair enough,” Sara grunted. “If the idiots on the Administrative Council and Alliance High Command were even half as decent as you, Hyun-ae, things would be different for sure.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Miss Loewe,” Hyun-ae retorted, but the ghost of a smile twisted her lips as she spoke. “This tangential discussion is over. We need to focus on the task at hand.”

Ignoring the glares Alisa and Sara were currently trading, Rin nodded and tapped a command into the tab in front of her, the device letting out a chime as it established a connection with the conference table's holo projector.

“This is the data I recovered from our Lancer. I've done extensive analysis on the system dump I pulled from the vessel's main computer and compiled the relevant findings here.”

The fringe troubleshooter scanned over the summaries and let out a low whistle. “That's about as clear as you can get. No way a gun like that can drift out of alignment that far, short of maybe a high-acceleration collision with an enemy ship.”

“It's impossible to verify from the system logs, but I theorize that the aim point drift was caused by a virus introduced to the Lancer's diagnostic systems.” Rin highlighted a section of the projected holo. “The pre-flight checks I ran all returned green, which means at the time of launch, the heavy linear cannon's aim point was correctly aligned. It then drifted in an arbitrary manner during the battle.”

Alisa nodded as she chewed and swallowed. “Right. No way Lieutenant Moore would have allowed that Lancer out of the fighter bay if it wasn't well within spec.”

“The results say sabotage, but without proof of the virus being introduced, it's all circumstantial,” Sara pointed out. “This would put doubt in the mind of a tribunal, sure, but it's not a smoking gun.”

“Well, I couldn't get the smoking gun.” Rin tapped the tab again and highlighted another section of the analysis. “Our Lancer was pulled from the maintenance stack and kept under guard until the Infiltrator returned to Sirius Colony. I assume the vessel was transferred off the ship to be used as evidence.”

“That isn't normal procedure in a friendly fire incident with equipment failure,” Sara mused as she drummed her fingers on the table. “Says so in the manual—in the event of suspected equipment failure, the maintenance chief is supposed to prioritize a full and complete deep diagnosis and analysis of all systems.”

Both Alisa and Rin turned to stare at Sara curiously.

“What?” The fringe troubleshooter's cheeks seemed to color just slightly. “It's not like this kind of stuff is secret. People talk; you'd be surprised how many veterans end up in places like Nexus City.”

Alisa gave the woman a dubious look. “Still, that's rather specific knowledge.”

“What do you want from me? You want me to admit I once served? Fine—consider it admitted.” The flush on Sara's cheeks intensified underneath Alisa and Rin's scrutiny. “Let's just get this out of the way. I enlisted when I was a dumb kid, barely old enough to drink a beer. Spent eighteen years in before I had enough. Censured but not court-martialed, took a dishonorable discharge, forfeited all benefits and lit out for the fringe.”

“Why did you leave the Fleet in disgrace?” Rin queried.

Sara's lips curled into a snarl. “I didn't leave 'in disgrace.' I disobeyed a direct order to kill two hundred innocent people. That's not fucking 'disgrace' in my books.” The fringe troubleshooter took a deep, calming breath. “Look, okay, I was a marine officer once. I led my own squad for a while. We killed more than our fair share of eyeballs for years, but then my team was assigned to 'bandit' operations.”

Alisa and Rin exchanged glances, but said nothing.

“We joined up with a Customs team on a Fleet frigate. Stopped a pirate transport and boarded it. The pirates fought us like demons.” Sara's gaze seemed to soften and unfocus as she sunk into the unpleasant memories. “We lost a couple people in the first few scraps and my CO panicked. Asshole was probably thinking about his next promotion. Ordered my unit to purge the entire ship.”

“That's supposed to be a last resort,” Alisa noted.

“Yeah. Like I said, this guy was an asshole. He freaked out every time we had casualties, but he didn't give a shit about the people. Just his eval results. Anyway, we started the purge, killing everything that moved. When we got to the cargo holds, we found about two hundred slaves locked in shipping containers.”

A chill crawled up Alisa's spine. “And you'd been ordered to fully purge the vessel…”

“Yeah. I commed my CO for reconsideration. Told that asshole they were slaves. Unarmed. Not hostile at all. He denied on the basis that there might be pirates hiding among the cargo.”

“It's not difficult to see where this is going,” Alisa murmured. She looked at Sara with new eyes, her earlier hostility having faded away in light of new information. “You refused the order and your CO censured you for insubordination.”

Sara's face split into a feral grin. “Oh, I refused the order, all right. With my fist.”

“I can't say I blame you,” Alisa muttered, her tone bone-dry.

“So there it is. That's my sob story. Happy now?”

“I'm sorry for making you dredge up bad memories.” Alisa glanced at Rin briefly before returning her attention to the fringe troubleshooter. “My whole life has always revolved around serving the Alliance. I guess I didn't really think far outside my limited experience and worldview.”

“Apology accepted.” The ex-marine's expression softened. “Let's get back to business, then. You two have any other evidence that might build on these system logs?”

Alisa nodded. “It's circumstantial as well, but there might be a way we can seal the deal with solid physical proof. Maybe.”

“What else did you discover?” Hyun-ae asked.

“Delta Four's Lancer was destroyed by a runaway antimatter reaction. On the surface, it appeared as if the impactor shot fired by our Lancer ruptured the antimatter furnace badly enough to cause a containment failure.” Rin's expression darkened as she switched the holo from the tactical logs to the sensor logs. “But the readings we picked up are inconsistent with that conclusion.”

Sara peered at the glowing data suspended above the table. “I don't see anything out of the ordinary here for a containment failure explosion.”

“That's what everyone thought, but look at the estimated reaction rates,” Alisa pointed her finger at several lines highlighted in red. “Normally, warp-capable vessels have safety systems to prevent more than a small amount of antimatter from reacting at a time. Our sensors show that the furnace's entire supply of antimatter annihilated all at once, as if the moderator systems weren't even there.”

“Simple enough explanation—they were damaged and failed to function.”

Rin shook her head. “That's not possible. The moderator system used in the Lancer's antimatter furnace has a triple fail-safe in addition to an emergency breakaway that triggers in the event of a complete failure. The probability of every single contingency failing all at once is near zero.”

“So you're saying Delta Four's Lancer was sabotaged, too?”

“The evidence points in that direction,” Alisa agreed. She ran a hand through her hair and felt a smile tug at her lips as she realized it hadn't frizzed quite so badly. “There's a way we might be able to confirm it, too.”

“Delta Four's black box data recorder.” Rin entered another set of commands into the tab and the holo shifted, displaying an overview model of the Lancer's black box. The device looked somewhat like a small missile—which wasn't far from the truth. Instead of loaded with explosive ordnance, however, the data recorder's casing was loaded down with high-density memory cores. Out of every single component on the vessel, nothing, not even the warp core shielding itself, was more durable than the black box.

“You really think that thing didn't get blown to pieces along with the rest of the ship?”

“The runaway reaction inside the antimatter furnace would have depleted all available fuel long before the reaction energy even left the aft section,” Rin explained. “The vessel was destroyed by the intense heat and high-energy gamma flux, but the Alliance's flight data recorders are designed to survive a direct hit from particle beam weaponry and still be viable.”

Alisa gazed at the projected holo. “It's worth a look, anyway. Even if it's a long shot, we desperately need some kind of hard evidence. There's no way the saboteur could have altered the logs in the black box or hidden any tampering with the moderator system.”

“Would it have even started recording when the Lancer was still docked?” The fringe troubleshooter looked dubious.

“It starts logging the moment maintenance transmits the sortie order.”

“It's the longest of long shots,” Sara grumbled, her tone indicating just how little she was looking forward to this task. “Shit, what the hell am I saying? It's not like I have any better ideas on how to proceed. We'll go check it out.”

An abrupt warning chime sounded, drawing Alisa and Rin's attention toward Hyun-ae. The woman had pulled out her TCC and was staring at the screen with an expression that grew increasingly grim. When she looked up, her brown eyes were cold and focused directly on Sara.

“You were followed. We have company.”

Sara blanched. “Not possible. I checked and re-checked before we left Avernus. There's no way someone could have tracked me here. None.”

“One moment and I'll verify that.” Hyun-ae tapped an internal comm code into the TCC and held the device up to her ear. “Lieutenant, this is Director Seo. Please run a spatial distortion check on the Corsair in Dock Two. Let me know if you detect any offset reflections on these frequencies.” The woman tapped a command into the TCC to send the relevant data to the station's maintenance chief.

“What are you looking for?” Sara demanded, but Hyun-ae ignored her.

“She's searching for reflections caused by a crystalline particle shroud.” Rin's expression was just as grim as Hyun-ae's. “It's the most reliable way to detect the presence of a QE comm transceiver.”

“That's correct,” the AI researcher confirmed. “And the scan came back positive.”

“It's Jean.” Sara's lips pressed into a bloodless line. “It's got to be. Nobody else on the hunt has the tech capabilities to do that. Not to mention the money—a tracking device like that must've cost a small fortune to make.”

“Who is Jean?” Alisa demanded.

“Jean is the leader of the Red Claw syndicate, one of the more influential criminal organizations operating out of Avernus's capital, Nexus City,” Hyun-ae answered before Sara could. “Some time before Miss Loewe began working for us, she was once a member of this syndicate.”

“That has nothing to do with what's happening here. I already told you, he's after Pierce, not me. That's why I had to come here in the first place.”

Alisa gawked at Sara. “Me? What do they want with me?”

“Administrator Meyers put a bounty on your head in retaliation for his daughter's death.” The fringe troubleshooter closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples, wishing fervently that this was all just a bad dream. “He's offering two million clean credits to the first syndicate that captures you alive and in good physical and mental condition.”

“I never knew I was so valuable.”

“Meyers wants to torture you to death, obviously. Looks like satiating his thirst for vengeance is worth a whole hell of a lot on the black market.” Sara turned her attention back to Hyun-ae. “What kind of firepower is he packing?”

“Our early-warning systems picked up two surplussed out ninth-generation escort frigates, a bulk freighter that looks to have been converted into a fighter carrier and eight Cutlass-class assault gunships. We don't know what sort of fighters are in the freighter.”

“Probably C-shape fighters, or maybe old Supernovas,” Alisa mused. She glanced at her partner, a knowing look in her eyes. “Old wolves, but even old wolves still have some teeth. What defenses does this base have?”

“The base itself has three light particle cannons and twenty anti-starship missile launchers, as well as an assortment of point-defense lasers.” Hyun-ae dragged her finger across the TCC's touch-sensitive panel. “We also have a wing of Lancer-class starfighters assigned to defend the station from potential Gray incursions.”

“I can launch in the Luminaire to help out with the defense,” Sara offered. Chagrin was plainly visible on the fringe troubleshooter's face. “I mean, it's kind of my fault they even found this place, after all.”

Hyun-ae nodded. “Good. We'll need all the help we can get.”

Alisa and Rin glanced at each other again, a slow, wicked smile blossoming on each of their faces simultaneously.

“What?” Sara blinked, her expression wary. “What are you two—”

“We intend to take the fight to them,” Alisa interrupted, her voice slightly husky with eagerness. “While they're busy trying to shoot your Corsair and the garrison wing down, Rin and I will ambush them from behind.”

“Thank you.” Hyun-ae's relief was palpable. “Rin, Alisa, listen to me—none of them can be allowed to escape this system. Do you understand? It will take at least three days for us to prepare this station for relocation, during which time we will be terribly vulnerable to any attack. They cannot be allowed to return with reinforcements.”

Alisa's expression darkened. “I understand.”

Hyun-ae nodded slowly as she looked into Alisa's eyes. The ace pilot's measured gaze was hard and oh-so-cold, the look in her face reminiscent of the dispassionate visage of a lioness stalking her prey.

“Then… good luck.”

[-]

“I miss our Lancer,” Rin's projected image complained. The tiny holo crossed her arms over her abbreviated torso, underscoring her displeasure. She gave Alisa a sympathetic look. “For almost a month I had to live without the link between us. It was the most horrible feeling. I never want you to have to feel that emptiness again, not even for a picosecond.”

Alisa smiled. “I appreciate that, but there's not a lot we can do about it. Our Lancer's still locked up in some IID impound lot.”

“I know.” Rin's pout was genuine but adorable.

“Try to remember that my consciousness doesn't operate on a picosecond time scale, love. It's not as bad for me as it was for you. Honest.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Alisa tapped a series of commands into the console to her right, initializing the Lancer's startup sequence. The tactical and nav displays flickered to life; she glanced at the weapons self-checks and blinked in surprise. “The weapons on these Lancers aren't standard.”

“I noticed.”

“You weren't shocked to see this loadout?” Alisa blurted. “I didn't think it was possible to fit a particle beam weapon, even one this small, in a Lancer. I wonder how they managed it?”

“Sara's ship has one, too.” The tiny projection of Rin waved a hand dismissively. “We won't get very many shots at all without draining the primary banks and the burst caps dry, but the shots we do get will pack a serious punch.”

Alisa nodded. “We'll just have to aim very carefully.”

“That's probably why it isn't standard equipment.” Rin's holo spun around slowly, her familiar frill-trimmed pink dress fluttering in a digital breeze. “The standard cannon's magazine capacity means a lot more shots, more margin for error.”

The rest of the Lancer's loadout wasn't standard, either. Alisa and Rin were accustomed to the presence of two racks of twenty-four swarm missiles with reloads and a pair of fire-linked 20mm light autocannons in modular gun pods, plus a mine dropper for fighting retreats. In addition to the surprising particle beam cannon, this modified Lancer swapped the gun pods for 36mm linear cannons with a truly excessive number of reloads.

And in place of the missile racks…

“Well, this is really interesting,” Rin observed. “Marionette drones. I thought those were still in the alpha phase of development and testing.”

“It's as if they stuffed a small frigate's worth of firepower into a single starfighter.” Alisa's eyes narrowed as a sudden thought crossed her mind. It would be another minute or so before the vessel's reactor was warmed up; she decided to indulge her curiosity while waiting for the launch window. “Take a quick sensor peek at the rest of the Lancers in the dock and tell me what loadout they're using.”

Rin leaned back, putting her hands behind her head and closed her eyes as she mentally commanded the sensors to do their things. “They're all using standard loadouts, love. This ship is special—and judging by the qualities, strengths and limitations of the weaponry we're using…”

“This equipment profile was designed with a specific pair in mind,” Alisa finished for her.

“Yeah,” Rin agreed. “Us.”

Not more than a second after the words left her mouth, an incoming call lit up the comm and Hyun-ae's face was visible on the alternate display.

Alisa gave the woman a knowing look. “You're a sly one.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Don't play innocent with us, Hyun-ae. We know you had this ship put together with the intention that we would be the ones to fly it.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,” the AI researcher remarked, a small smile curving her lips. “Are you sure it couldn't just be a coincidence? I mean, we are a secret research and development section, after all.”

“We can do a lot of damage with this setup,” Rin said, failing to stifle a fit of laughter at Hyun-ae's transparent attempt to play dumb. “It would be better if we had the modified command module from our old Lancer, but this will do for now.”

The Director's impish expression faded and became all business. “We would have had those modifications made, as well, but we weren't expecting you and Alisa to show up here this soon.”

“Wait a minute.” Alisa gawked at the woman's projected image. “You knew we would come here? Sara implied this was unplanned.”

“Eventually,” Hyun-ae confirmed. “Miss Loewe was supposed to keep you out of sight in Nexus City while she obtained the necessary components to repair your implant. The original plan went awry when the Red Claw syndicate became involved. You and Rin weren't supposed to come here until after the legal unpleasantness was dealt with.”

Alisa frowned at the AI researcher. “It would be nice if I could get brought up to speed on everything that's been happening. It's like all of your people keep forgetting I was out cold for three and a half weeks.”

“I'll fill you in on everything later,” Rin promised. “For now, though, we're next in the launch queue and all systems are online.”

“We'll speak more after the battle.” Alisa wrapped her fingers around the stick and throttle assembly. For the first time since she'd woken up, she felt at ease, whole and in her element. The anxiety and confusion that filled her heart before was gone, replaced with the cold fires of anticipation.

Hyun-ae's projected image nodded, her expression softening just a touch.

“Good luck out there, and good hunting.”

08

The universe faded back into visibility as the modified Lancer's shell display powered back on. After they launched from the Section Zero asteroid base's hidden fighter bay, Rin quickly calculated a tiny micro-jump, placing them a million kilometers or so behind the incoming battle group.

“They're accelerating at full burn, which isn't that fast considering the age and condition of those ships, but they'll reach the asteroid within a few minutes,” Rin pointed out. “I don't think they've noticed us yet.”

“We're probably only going to get two shots at most before they do.” Alisa sighed beneath her helmet. The hardsuit she'd been provided was a different design than the one she was used to and felt strange. “Particle beams are pretty hard to miss, and once they detect it, they're going to think a frigate came up behind them.”

“The response will be immediate and vicious,” Rin agreed. “That's exactly the sort of reaction we want to provoke. If we can get their attention by taking out one of those frigates, they'll put their backs to the Luminaire and the garrison wing.”

“Do you think you can handle the marionette drones?”

“Obviously this will be my first attempt, but the system seems simple enough.” Rin's holo turned toward the shell display and “looked” out through it. “As long as I keep them within a million kilometers, they should be able to keep up with us no problem. Any further and latency will start to become a problem.”

“Then let's do it. Luminaire and Alpha, Beta, Gamma and Delta wings are all in position at nav point one.” Alisa shoved the throttle to its stops and the Lancer soared through space, the starfighter's four huge primary drives ramping up to maximum acceleration.

“Locking onto Frigate A,” Rin reported.

Alisa's gray eyes focused intently on the shell display as the HUD overlay changed, projecting a series of three green squares. She adjusted the Lancer's course slightly, just barely nudging the stick. The maneuvering system made minute changes to the vessel's heading, and green squares started to merge together before suddenly flashing amber.

“Target locked!”

“Firing.”

Alisa pulled the trigger.

The shell display was momentarily blanketed in searing violet-white as the modified Lancer's particle beam emitter fired. A violently-surging column of charged particles burst from the weapon's aperture, accelerated to just a touch under the speed of light.

The Red Claw frigate was taken completely by surprise. The particle beam struck the vessel aft, slamming squarely into one of the frigate's six enormous star drives. A succession of enormous explosions ripped through the small capital ship's aft section and Alisa instantly knew the blow had been a mortal one. Great tongues of white-hot plasma leaked from the frigate's ruined fusion reactor.

“They're slowing—the frigate and half of the assault gunships are turning to find out what just destroyed one of their capital ships.”

Alisa nodded to Rin but didn't respond with words. Instead she yanked hard on the stick and mashed her thumb against a side button. The Lancer altered vectors with dizzying speed, nearly standing up on its drives as it shot away from its previous heading at almost a ninety degree angle. Maneuvering drives pulsed briefly to establish a new linear flight path.

The tactical display blared several warning messages in quick succession as a storm of enemy fire filled the space where she had just been moments before. Alisa's quick wrenching maneuver ensured that the second frigate's particle beam and the five impactors from the assault gunships hit nothing but empty space.

“They're scanning us, trying to find out what we are,” Rin noted. “Countering. I can buy you about a minute before they figure out we're not an Alliance frigate.”

“Good enough.” Slamming hard on the throttle, Alisa shoved the stick forward and guided it in an arc to starboard, sending the heavy fighter streaking through the void in a long parabolic curve. The maneuvering thrusters at the vessel's bow fired for a split second, dropping the first assault gunship right in front of her sights.

“Switching to secondary weapons. Firing.”

Alisa squeezed the trigger four times in rapid succession, sending eight 36mm composite-metallic impactors streaking toward the gunship. It took only a few seconds for the shots to clear the ten thousand kilometer gap. She could see the computer-generated model of her target shimmer and buck as the shield hexes absorbed kinetic energy from the first four shots before failing.

The remaining four impactors impaled the Cutlass, blasting great holes through the thickly-armored warships. Desperately the vessel's pilot altered vector and spun around, arrowing directly for Alisa's Lancer. The old craft's weapons opened fire, blasting away at them with three 20mm autocannons.

Rin was having none of that, however.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alisa watched with a satisfied grin as the two marionette drones detached from the Lancer's ventral hardpoints and streaked off toward their opponent. The tiny remote-controlled weapons flew as fast as missiles; in fact, the Cutlass's pilot obviously mistook them for such.

Fully into the manual control of both drones, Rin sent one careening away at a declining angle while the other swooped up and over. Each of the marionette drones were armed with a single 20mm linear accelerator and a dual pulse laser array. Rin spun her first drone around in a steep climb and fired the tiny craft's weapons.

A pair of impactors dropped the vessel's already weakened shields, battering against the gunship's bare armor before the pulse laser charged up and released a devastating one-two punch. Armor plates were instantly ablated in an incandescent flash of vaporized metal.

“Gunship 1 is out of the fight,” Rin said with unmistakable satisfaction. “Marionettes White and Black are seeking new targets.”

Alisa expertly manipulated the stick, keeping her Lancer flying in formation with Rin's puppets. The drone fighters possessed terrifying maneuverability to go with their extreme acceleration; the Lancer couldn't quite keep up. The remaining three Cutlasses angled high, keeping in a loose delta formation.

“Burst banks are fully charged.” Alisa thumbed the weapons control over to the main particle beam cannon. Three green squares materialized on the shell display. “See if you can herd them close—I don't think they've realized the particle beam came from us.”

“Got it.”

Rin sent the marionettes circling around the formation of gunships like a pair of wolves closing in for the kill. Predictably the gunships responded to this harassment by tightening their formation, allowing their hulls to overlap slightly from every possible vector. This sort of phalanx formation was common among heavily armored and shielded vessels, a tactic favored in the Alliance by pilots of the ponderous but deadly Labrys heavy escort fighter.

It would have worked, perhaps even quite well, had their opponent not been armed with a weapon capable of crippling or even outright destroying small capital ships in a single shot.

Alisa's finger caressed the trigger lightly at the exact moment the green squares converged and turned amber. The Lancer's particle beam cannon spoke, proclaiming inescapable doom for the Cutlasses' crews. Violet-white destruction reached out, the beam aimed just precisely enough to strike at the exact moment necessary to score lethal blows against all three gunships.

Consumed by the searing light, the Cutlass icons on Alisa's tactical display flashed dark gray before vanishing. Judging by the sensor readings, the particle beam had ruptured the lead gunship's antimatter furnace, causing a brief but devastating runaway reaction.

There's no way Lindy's ship could have died the way it did, Alisa told herself, her gaze shifting from the fading brilliance. These old things have larger, more primitive furnaces and that explosion was only a fraction of the intensity.

“Looks like the makeshift carrier is launching fighters—you were right, it's a collection of C-shapes and a few Supernovas.” Rin's holo squinted at the tactical display as if she were focusing hard on it. “They're not in the best shape.”

“Our opponent probably went for quantity over quality,” Alisa muttered in a dry tone. “Either that or he may be approaching the limit to how much he's willing to spend to claim the price on my head.”

“The garrison wing of Lancers just sync-fired from two flights to take out the enemy carrier—and there it goes.” Rin shook her head in wonderment at the tactical display as the large red icon denoting the carrier flashed gray. “Did these people actually think they could beat us with those ancient rust buckets?”

Alisa glanced at the tactical display and noted the trajectories of eight two-kilo impactors as they transfixed the converted bulk freighter. “I don't think they expected to meet with this kind of resistance. What do we have left?”

“The last frigate is trying to charge through. I think it's going to attempt to fire on the station itself and demand they yield you up.”

“What the hell is their commander thinking?”

Rin shrugged at her partner. “I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about this. It'd be safer to assume its commander has something sinister in mind.”

“As opposed to just being an idiot?”

“Right,” Rin replied.

The Lancer spun around and rocketed off for the main battle area. Having used up the element of surprise, it was time for Alisa and Rin to join the rest of the defensive line. Rin frowned, noticing the Luminaire breaking off.

“I see it.” Alisa frowned at the icon on the tactical display as the Lancer thundered toward the beleagured Section Zero base. “She's trying to intercept the frigate—you said her Corsair has a particle beam cannon, also?”

Rin's eyes widened. “You think she's going to try to pull off what we did?”

“Looks like it.”

“Of all the stupid, reckless—Alisa, we have to go help her!” Rin's tone held enough urgency that her partner was momentarily taken aback. “Sara is a passable pilot at best. There's no way she's going to be able to pull off the same trick we did, especially not facing that frigate head-on without the element of surprise.”

“So you're saying she's going to die if we don't intervene.”

“Yeah.”

[-]

The long, needle-like shape of the old Alliance war frigate loomed large in the shell display of the Luminaire, but Sara shrugged off any feeling of fear. This was personal on more than one level. No longer simply aiding in the defense of the Section Zero base out of a sense of guilt and responsibility, the fringe troubleshooter was now filled with a much darker emotion.

“He's got to be captaining that frigate,” she muttered to herself. “This disgusting tactic has his name all over it.”

Sara leaned over and punched in a long string of commands into her tactical console, powering up the Luminaire's automated weapons systems. She wasn't a linker like Alisa or Hyun-ae's garrison wing, but one of the first major modifications she made to her personal vessel was to install the most sophisticated military SI combat program available on the black market.

The holo projector pedestal to her left flickered and came to life, creating a volumetric image of an all-seeing eye. The stylized sigil blinked and focused intently on Sara's face, the SI program speaking with a cold, mechanical voice.

“Secondary weapons systems active and under automated control.” The SI program sounded nothing at all like an average AI operator, much less a complete anomaly like Rin. That precise, perfectly-enunciated sentence was lifeless, completely inorganic. “A wing of C-shape fighters are closing in. ETA: 2 minutes.”

She wasn't worried. The Luminaire could take on half a wing of C-shapes in pristine factory-fresh condition and walk away with minor scrapes at the very worst. With only four and those four in rather poor condition despite their upgrades and modifications, it was not even truly a fight.

“C-shape fighters in range. Firing.”

The Corsair's dorsal and ventral laser turrets swiveled, guided by the unerring accuracy of the combat SI. Invisible beams of high-energy ultraviolet light sheared through shield hexes. Scuffed and dented armor plates glowed with intense heat and erupted in great clouds of vaporized metal. The closest C-shape fighter suffered a series of internal explosions before its drive trail faded away.

“Target One has been disabled and is drifting.” The SI's eye avatar narrowed and shifted focus to the three remaining C-shape fighters that broke off, not expecting such pinpoint defensive fire.

Sara knew that if they managed to gain much distance the lasers would bloom too much to punch through even their weak shielding, but she wasn't worried. The C-shapes, like most starfighters, didn't possess warp cores of their own. With the carrier gone, the fighters were stranded here and wouldn't be much of a threat. She allowed the combat SI to continue firing at them anyway, forcing them to keep their distance.

Burst banks are fully charged. Particle beam cannon primed and ready to fire.

The shell display shifted and magnified a sensor-generated image of the enemy war frigate, still over twenty thousand kilometers distant. The Luminaire shuddered violently as impactors scored hits on the dorsal shield hexes; warning sirens blared from the tactical display as two of the Cutlass gunships opened fire.

Shield strength is still over fifty percent. Sara's eyes narrowed as she held her course, unwilling to allow the gunship crews to stop her. The Corsair had powerful shield generators and could withstand a considerable amount of punishment, but if she left them alone long enough…

It didn't matter. She only needed a few more seconds and then she could take cover among the nearest Lancer wing. The targeting system materialized three green squares on the shell display as Sara switched weapons control over to the particle beam.

Pulling the throttle back gradually, she slowed the Luminaire's rate of acceleration while making minute course adjustments. The war frigate, all hundred and thirty meters of it, loomed large in the shell display as the squares converged and flashed amber.

“Firing particle beam—”

Her words were lost amidst a terrific impact that sent the Luminaire careening off course, tumbling through the void. Alarms blared in the cockpit; the tactical display spitting out several error messages. Whatever hit her had not only been powerful enough to blast the Corsair wildly off course but also completely wiped out her bow shields.

She knew the Luminaire wouldn't be able to survive another hit like that.

The comm display flashed and an incoming transmission connected without any input from her at all.

“Sara, overdrive, now!”

Reflexively Sara mashed the button on the side of her throttle assembly, overriding standard propulsion protocols and redlining the Corsair's powerful star drives. The Luminaire's maneuvering drives fired in rapid succession from all angles as the flight-assist systems joined in the effort to stop the vessel's wild end-over-end tumble.

“Get out of here before you get blown up,” Alisa's voice came over the comm. “That war frigate's already lining up another shot.”

“No!” Sara growled. “That frigate has to die now! The station is fucked if he gets that ship close enough to—”

Another terrific impact rocked the modified scout ship, but her velocity and the stabilizing influence of the rapidly-triggering maneuvering thrusters kept her on a steady vector. Her tactical display continued to honk warnings and the shield strength indicator was flashing an angry red at five percent power.

Sara knew she was done—there was nothing else she could do at this point but try to evade. The frigate would never let her line up a shot now, only further convincing her that it was indeed Jean running the show on that vessel. He knew about the Luminaire's secret weapon, of course—it had been he who arranged for its purchase and installation.

Her surprise was total when a violet-white line of destruction erupted from a small, dark shape as it flitted past. The particle beam raked a long, deep furrow through the frigate's outer hull, the melted edges hot enough to glow for several seconds before the cold darkness froze them in an amorphous mass.

“We'll take it from here,” Alisa's voice assured her over the comm. “You sound like you know what the frigate's captain is trying to do. Explain and quickly.”

“Jean is commanding that ship. He's trying to get close enough to the station to drop a warp bomb.” Sara's knuckles went white as she gripped the stick and throttle hard enough for the plastic to creak. “You know what that is?”

“No, but it sounds bad.”

“It's bad. Very, very bad. Take an old surplus warp drive and set it up to overcharge until the hypermatter core completely destabilizes. It'll create a large and extremely dangerous localized warp dislocation.”

“Just how dangerous are we talking?”

Sara bit her lip and felt fear bubbling up within her. “Very. The dislocation is unstable, so it only lasts for a few nanoseconds at most, but if he gets close enough to the base it'll kill a lot of people.”

“Doesn't he want to take me alive?”

“He'll hold the station hostage, force them to hand you over to him.” Sara jerked her stick around, sending the Luminaire into a reverse-thrust flutter that just barely saved her from a hail of impactors. “Probably doesn't realize who he's dealing with.”

“That's not going to happen.”

“I know,” Sara muttered. “Not to mention he'd likely trigger it anyway after taking you into custody.”

“We're going to make our run on the frigate.” Alisa's tone was hard steel; a shiver ran up Sara's spine as she fully realized just how dangerous the linker pilot really was. “Get back behind the fighter screen and try to help them take out some of those gunships. Your Luminaire should prove a tough opponent.”

“Got it.”

The Luminaire's star drives blazed with blue-white radiance as she slammed the throttle to its stops. The modified scout gunship was much more heavily-armed than the similar Cutlasses and Sara's upgrades ensured it'd be considerably more durable.

Fifteen Lancer heavy fighters appeared in a spread formation on the shell display; Sara hazarded a glance at the sensor readings and was more than a little impressed at the results of the battle so far. Pair-linked pilots were feared greatly by those who worked outside the law on the fringes of human civilization. In the past, she'd always scoffed when mercs and pirates would speak in hushed tones of their encounters with linker wings.

Their reputation is completely deserved, she mused as the Luminaire arced through space, taking cover behind the fighter screen. Her quick scan of the combat theater told her that all of the enemy Supernovas and C-shape fighters were dead. Only one of the sixteen Lancers had been taken out of the fight, and it was only moderately damaged.

All that remained of Jean's battle group were three Cutlass gunships. Sara tightened her fingers around the stick and started priming the Luminaire's particle beam. Bitterness welled up in her, knowing that her mistake had cost her the chance to kill Jean with her own hands.

Alerts chimed insistently in the cockpit as her most devastating weapon reached full charge. There wasn't much else she could do now but help clean up the mess.

[-]

“How do you want to play this?”

Rin's projected image pressed a tiny holographic finger to her lips. She adopted a pensive expression, but her violet eyes gleamed maliciously. “It'll be a little more difficult, but we should try to take the frigate alive.”

“Why?” Alisa blinked at her partner curiously. “You heard Hyun-ae; we can't let any who have seen this place survive. No one can be allowed to leave with any intel on this place.”

“I think the potential gain of handing Jean over to ACI would be enough of a reason to risk it,” Rin argued. “Besides, it's too late for this place. The facility has to be moved no matter what.”

Alisa considered that. Contrary to what Sara or any other fringe type may believe, the larger portion of the Alliance military held nothing but scorn for the syndicates. From the rank-and-file all the way up to those in command positions, the Fleet's contempt for pirates and syndicate mercenaries was unanimous.

Corruption within the Administrative Council and local colonial governments gave people like Jean a vector to market their services, but no one in Fleet would dare associate with such scum, even clandestinely. Warriors didn't care much for politics even on the best of days. If what Sara said was true, the corruption would have to have originated from the civilian government. The Fleet would never condone such behavior, publicly holding up the syndicates as a visible enemy to keep the colonists in line while cutting back-room deals with them in the dark—

At least, that's what she always believed to be true.

Alisa shook the unpleasant doubts out of her mind, attempting to focus solely on the mission at hand. Idle musings could prove deadly at a time like this. There were far more immediate concerns that required her full and undivided attention.

“Okay, Rin, let's go with that.” She worked the throttle control, smoothly accelerating the upgraded Lancer to cruise velocity. The Red Claw frigate should have been trying everything they could to blast them out of the sky, but the vessel refused to bring the bulk of its weapons to bear.

“We're taking fire, but it's sporadic and not difficult to avoid,” Rin mused. “I've got their point defenses tied up with the marionette drones, but it won't be long before I need to recall. Lasers are already inoperative.”

“How many impactors left?”

“They only carry about a thousand rounds to begin with. I'm down to two hundred on both drones.” Rin's expression darkened as she continued to split her attention between dozens of tasks without any apparent effort. Alisa could feel the error her counterpart introduced to maneuvering in the way the stick bucked slightly in her hand.

“Burst banks are fully charged and routed to the particle beam.” Alisa thumbed her weapons selector. The familiar green squares materialized on the shell display as the Lancer streaked toward the damaged vessel. Her first shot dug a long but largely superficial gash in the frigate's armor and outer superstructure. “What do their shields look like?”

“Dorsal hexes are already coming back up over fifty percent.”

“That's fast,” Alisa marveled. “Any theories as to how they managed that?”

“The frigate has been modified from the original design, but not so much that the vessel's capabilities are too far from the baseline.” Rin waved a tiny holographic hand at the image of the wounded capital ship. “They're diverting weapons power to shields and the main drives.”

“That explains why they aren't bothering to try and shoot at us much.”

“It does appear that the Red Claw is betting everything on turning the situation into a standoff with that weapon Sara mentioned,” Rin agreed. Her eyes narrowed in eager determination. “Let's make sure they don't succeed.”

Alisa's left thumb depressed a large black stud on her throttle assembly. The Lancer's acceleration sharply increased as the boost thrusters activated, draining power from the burst banks to grant a terrifying increase in velocity. The Red Claw frigate was still a few thousand kilometers away, but it wouldn't be long before they were skimming the hull. With the marionette drones keeping the frigate's point defenses occupied, it wouldn't take a lot of effort to cripple the small warship.

Through the shell display she could see the two marionette drones fly back into view as Rin moved them into a defensive formation around their Lancer. The little needle-like vessels would continue to pelt the frigate's laser turrets, making it difficult for them to get a solid lock on the attacking starfighter.

“Targeting mode switched to subsystems,” Alisa said. The tactical display reformed and displayed information concerning this particular frigate's configuration. Unlike most privately-owned capital-class vessels, it was a legitimate warship and not a converted freighter. The Alliance Fleet didn't make a habit of selling mothballed warships, especially not to the syndicates—the Red Claw likely hijacked the vessel decades ago. This exact type of frigate wasn't familiar to Alisa, but the starship design philosophy of the Alliance hadn't changed a whole lot in the intervening years since the vessel was decommissioned.

“Highlighting critical systems,” Rin's voice floated into Alisa's mind, but she wasn't paying much attention. The two were fully into their neural link, information flowing freely between them with so little latency she couldn't exactly tell where her thoughts ended and Rin's began.

To almost any other pair-linked pilot, such a sensation would have been unsettling at the very best. Alisa was different. Instead of fighting the blurring of individual awareness, she embraced it. All verbal communication ceased, even the deeply-ingrained action reports drilled into new recruits at the Academy.

They didn't speak to each other—they no longer needed to. The entire concept of human language became inefficient and clunky as Alisa and Rin joined together and operated in unity. All of Rin's extended sensors derived from the Lancer's impressive array of instruments suddenly became an extension of Alisa's own senses.

She lost her perception of the cockpit around her. The starfighter ceased to become a vehicle that she operated. Her consciousness expanded, doubling in complexity again and again. It was no longer purely a physical matter. The Lancer moved as she thought.

Jean's Red Claw frigate was close—terrifyingly close as their fighter skimmed merely a few meters off the hull. The Lancer's drives blazed with blue-white luminescence, still locked at maximum combat acceleration despite their proximity to the enemy vessel.

Alisa-Rin thought, and the Lancer answered.

Linear accelerator fire erupted all around them, but they dodged the frigate's point-blank attempt to swat them out of the sky with an almost casual ease. Maneuvering thrusters fired repeatedly at incredibly precise intervals as the fighter spun and twisted. They knew what they had to do to stop the warship dead in its tracks.

Rin's impressive database of detailed starship schematics simply materialized within their shared consciousness. Alisa-Rin searched through the thousands of different makes and models, scanning through the data near-instantaneously. The enemy warship was a Phobos-class deep space frigate, the staple warship of the Alliance Customs service up until a few decades ago. It was likely that the vessel originally attempted to stop and inspect a convoy of Red Claw ships and was overwhelmed.

More importantly, the Phobos had a weakness—the exact reason it had been retired from service by the Alliance. The ship designers had done a fine job with the propulsion and weapons systems, cramming a surprising amount of firepower and acceleration potential into such a compact warship, but the support systems were lacking. Near the aft of the vessel, where the frigate's seven main drives were mounted, was a primary coolant line used to keep the massive engines from overheating.

Alisa-Rin were fully in accord. The analysis and simulations run all resolved with the same exact result. The coolant trunk fed back into the frigate's main reactor. Linking these two systems together was bad enough—all modern Alliance vessels had isolated coolant loops for the fusion reactor and star drives—but even worse, the armor protecting the trunk line as it headed aft was the weakest point on the entire vessel.

The shell display was dark, the tactical, sensor and nav consoles inactive. No concentric green squares materialized, neither did the targeting system chime an alert. Alisa-Rin didn't move at all—physical manipulation of the controls would be woefully inefficient in comparison. Thoughts and intentions sent the Lancer angling off at a sharp declining vector. Maneuvering drives mounted aft sent the starfighter whirling around to face their enemy at a distance of only a few hundred kilometers.

A pillar of violet-white glowing relativistic particles erupted from the Lancer's particle beam cannon. With velocities just barely under that of the speed of light, the river of charged particles made contact with a featureless, completely unremarkable spot on the Phobos frigate's aft hull plating. The target area was less than two meters wide, but the beam stabbed through with terrifying accuracy.

Composite armor plating was instantly converted into metallic plasma. The searing line of purple-tinted doom bored deep into the Red Claw frigate's superstructure. Great plumes of dense white gas erupted from the section of armor completely erased by the particle beam.

Alisa-Rin knew what would happen next—in fact, they could have predicted it down to the nanosecond. A cascade failure of systems was touched off, happening with inexorable slowness from their sped-up perception of time.

Vaporized coolant leaked from the damaged trunk line for several long seconds until the system shut off the flow and attempted to divert it to the secondaries. Alisa-Rin felt a ripple of satisfaction run through their unified mind as a second, smaller plume of escaping coolant burst from the massive hole in the frigate's aft.

The target location had been carefully chosen to ensure the deadly beam would destroy not only the main coolant lines, but damage the backup lines sufficiently to cause an overpressure rupture. The Phobos's thrust emitters stuttered sharply, the blue-white glow fading as the systems started to overheat and had to be shut down or risk irreparable damage.

Sensors were activated as effortlessly as opening one's eyes. The data received flowed into Alisa-Rin's consciousness, confirming the successful completion of the predicted failures. Inside the Phobos, they knew the vessel's maintenance and engineering crews would be frantically running emergency shutdown procedures on the fusion reactor before the heat buildup melted the reactor and killed everyone nearby.

The commander's decision to dump everything into propulsion and shields ensured the vessel's burst banks were completely dry. Without main power, the vessel's external systems began to deactivate, one after another, desperately conserving what little energy was left to maintain some modicum of life support.

In the span of only a few minutes, the warship was dead in space.

Alisa-Rin relaxed, the Lancer slowing and altering its vector to establish an encircling patrol pattern around the stricken frigate. The battle was over, and Alisa-Rin felt as if parts of their mind were going dark. The sections of cognition began to coalesce into discrete arrangements that oh-so-reluctantly drifted further and further apart before they separated completely.

Alisa opened her eyes.

Her mind was once again hers, and only hers.

“Alisa…”

The sound of sniffling drew Alisa's gaze to the holo projector where Rin's avatar stood—or rather, had collapsed to her knees. She rubbed at her eyes with her small, pale hands. Luminous tears tracked down her cheeks. Those huge, vivid amethyst eyes peeked out from behind her hands and stared at her counterpart.

“Why are you crying, love?” Alisa asked.

“B-because I had to leave. Or I might hurt you.”

“You mean… what just happened? All of that we just did, somehow—that was your doing, wasn't it?”

The little holo image of Rin sniffled again and wiped her eyes. “S-sort of. I thought that it might have been possible, and since what we had to do to stop the frigate without killing it or getting killed ourselves required such a high degree of precision and timing and I didn't think you'd be able to do it on your own so I tried something I wasn't sure would work but it did and for a little while there I was worried that something bad might happen but I was s-scared because Mama was in danger—”

“Easy, love,” Alisa murmured, interrupting her partner's rapid-fire outpouring. “We did something that shouldn't be possible, somehow.”

“Y-yeah.” Rin stood up on the projector and smoothed her dress self-consciously. “I'm not really sure how we were able to do that, but I thought—I knew it would work. And because it did, we saved Mama and all of the people on the station.”

Alisa was silent for a long moment. The brief unison of their minds as a single joined entity had only lasted a little over a minute, but the awe-inspiring sensation was burned indelibly into her memories. There was no pain, no discomfort, no panic at the sudden loss of individuality. All she felt—all they felt—was warmth and light and love.

“I had to separate us,” Rin continued, her speech slower and less frantic. “If we'd maintained the unison for too long, it could have caused you permanent damage.” Glittering holographic tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I'm so sorry! I really should have asked you first, I know, but—but I couldn't let Mama die!”

“Rin.”

The girl glanced up, meeting her counterpart's eyes. She looked thoroughly miserable, guilt plastered across her expression and leaking through the neural link. Alisa felt a painful stab of sympathy. Her lips curved into the biggest smile she could muster, desperate to reassure her precious partner that she was not the slightest bit upset.

“I'm not mad at you. I just didn't expect something like that, is all.” Alisa gazed out through the shell display as the fifteen combat-ready Lancers from the garrison wing began to surround the disabled frigate. With their vigil established, Alisa altered her vessel's vector and set a course to return to the asteroid base.

“I… I didn't want to leave,” Rin managed. Her tone was broken and interrupted by the occasional sniffle and sob. “I wanted to stay with you forever. But I knew if I stayed too long, you would be hurt, maybe even die.”

“It's okay, love. It's okay.” She reached out, her fingertip brushing against the tiny holo's silky black hair. “Don't feel bad about it. It's just a limitation of me being human, I suppose. You're still with me, even if we can't be that close all the time.”

Rin smiled wide, relief mingled with joy coming off of her in waves. “I love you so much.”

“I do, too.” Alisa offered her partner a warm smile. “So, so much.”

[-]

Hyun-ae gazed at the data stream flowing across her console. She wanted to blink, to rub her eyes, to slap herself in the face, just to be sure she wasn't actually dreaming this entire scenario.

Dozens of lines of information were notated beneath a detailed graph that analyzed a huge amount of variables from sources both inside the Lancer, inside Alisa's implant and inside Rin's lattice diagram. The purpose-built console was similar to the one used by Section Zero's monitoring agent on the Infiltrator, but far more capable. Even while they were embroiled in an illicit attempt to steal Alisa right out from underneath them, Hyun-ae and her team continued the project.

What she discovered today, however, was so far outside their predictions that she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Section Zero watched Alisa very closely, keeping tabs on her battles so that they could analyze her unique ability. Hyun-ae had been watching her during this battle to that very end, despite the fact that the enemy were not Gray.

Her predictions proved to be correct—against human opponents, Alisa wasn't quite the prodigy she was when flying against the Gray. Oh, she was good—very good, by far one of the top pilots in the Fleet. But when fighting human opponents, her aggregate combat performance scores suffered noticeably. The simulations Hyun-ae ran confirmed it; Alisa's scores were almost twenty percent lower.

In the final moments of the battle, however…

Hyun-ae still couldn't believe what she was seeing. After Sara Loewe foolishly attempted to assault the Red Claw frigate head-on, Alisa and Rin came to her rescue and sent her to help clean up the Cutlasses. As the two made their run on the frigate, something significant happened.

In the span of less than two minutes, Alisa was able to safely disable the enemy frigate with a crippling blow to its poorly-designed main cooling loop. The preternaturally-accurate deathblow set off a series of cascade system failures that rendered the Phobos-class vessel completely dead in space with minimal external damage.

Alisa's combat performance scores from the battle were plainly visible. Had she not witnessed it with her own eyes, Hyun-ae would have sworn up and down that the instruments were faulty and in error. She ran dozens of comparisons, but the results always came back the same.

For just under two minutes, Alisa's predicted scores tripled across the board. For that period of exactly one hundred and sixteen seconds, her starfighter flew and fought light-years beyond its well-known capabilities.

For that brief span of time, Alisa and Rin's synchronization rate…

The single glowing line on the holo was impossible, but unmistakable.

SYNC: 108% (LIMIT EXCEEDED)

09

“Is that all, Doc?”

The tall man nodded and ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Yes, we're done for today. Everything checks out—all your vitals are good, neurons all firing as they should. The repairs to your implant were very professionally done.”

Alisa sat up on the scanning bed and yawned. Considering the battle she was surprised she didn't feel more exhausted, but the idea of a warm bed still sang its siren song. Upon returning to the Section Zero asteroid base, Hyun-ae met her on the gantry and insisted she head to Medical immediately.

That was about two hours ago. Alisa could feel Rin through the link; her precious partner was already in their room, patiently awaiting her return. The director of Section Zero's research projects assured her that Rin would be safely extracted from the Lancer's socket and reinstalled into her body.

They moved a lot faster than Moore's people ever did, she mused as she dressed. She'd come to the med bay directly from the dock, still wearing her borrowed hardsuit and mag-boots. Those had been returned to the armory, most likely, and whoever picked them up also left her a fresh change of clothes.

Alisa slipped the simple gray dress over her head and stepped into a pair of brown synth-leather sandals sitting on the floor. Hyun-ae hadn't said anything specific when she insisted that Alisa get examined, but she'd have to be completely dense not to connect it with what happened during the battle.

“Get some rest tonight, Lieutenant-Commander,” the doctor told her.

“I don't know if I should still be called that.”

“As far as we're concerned, ma'am, none of the accusations against you are true.” The blond man sighed and sat down in front of a console, organizing the medical data for further analysis and study. “I've never seen anyone fly like that—and because you pulled that wild stunt off, you saved us all. Over a thousand personnel on this base all get to keep their lives because of you. The whole station owes you one hell of a debt of gratitude.”

Alisa blushed fiercely under the unfamiliar praise. “It wasn't just me.”

“Oh, I know. Not all of us were here long enough to remember Rin, but most of us do. Make sure you tell her we're very grateful.”

“I will,” Alisa promised.

“Oh, and one other thing. I know things are a mess right now, but you need to make sure to get as much rest as you can. Your body and brain have been through a lot recently. The regeneration treatments can only do so much.”

“I don't know if that'll be possible.” Alisa's frown deepened slightly. “But I'll do my best to take it easy. We shouldn't be heading out until tomorrow.”

“Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got other patients to attend.”

Alisa waved politely to the doctor—she'd never caught his name—and headed down the plain bare-metal corridors of the asteroid base. The whole thing was constructed out of modular components that could be quickly disconnected and loaded up on two large transports hidden on the other side of the asteroid. Already the station's crew were laboring right alongside the veritable army of automatons, taking everything apart in preparation to relocate the facility.

The walk to the temporary room Hyun-ae arranged for Alisa and Rin was relatively short and uneventful. She placed her hand on the biometric panel and the door slid open without a sound. Immediately inside the small room, sitting on a plush overstuffed couch, was her precious partner, dressed comfortably in a mint-colored sundress and pale pink leggings, her bare feet dangling above the carpeting.

“Hey, welcome home,” Rin greeted her in a warm tone. “Well, at least for another day and a half.”

Alisa felt the room's dim illumination pull another yawn out of her. “They've got to take this whole place apart to move it to a new hiding place. By that time, though, we should be well on our way to trying to find Lindy's flight recorder.”

“About that…”

“What?”

“The Lancer isn't flight-ready. What we did during the battle was too much for a lot of the more delicate systems. There are all sorts of faults and errors running throughout the entire thing. They're going to have to do a lot of work to get it back up to spec, but Mama told me they'd reinforce all the systems. The cockpit modifications, too.”

“So you're saying we don't have a ship?”

Rin shook her head. “No, it'll take too long for them to fix it, especially since everyone's busy with the evacuation. We'll be completing the search with Sara on her Luminaire.”

“That's just great. Really, really great.” Alisa grimaced at the thought of being cooped up for so long with the bitter ex-Marine. “I'm really looking forward to it.”

“Alisa, please. Sara isn't a bad person. She just had some really unfortunate experiences with the Alliance, both when she served and after she was discharged. I think she'll be inclined to view you in a different light the more she gets to know you. Not to mention you did save her life.”

“Twice.”

“Right, twice.” Rin's violet eyes sparkled in the soft glow of the ambient lighting. A small, indulgent smile started to spread across her face. She leaned over and kissed her partner lightly on the cheek. “Thank you, by the way.”

“What are you thanking me for?” Alisa gave her a curious look. “Um, not that I'm going to complain or anything.”

“You helped me save Mama's life.”

“So Hyun-ae was the one who created you,” Alisa mused almost to herself. “You know, now that I think about it, it makes a lot of sense. When I first met Hyun-ae, a lot of her mannerisms felt so familiar to me, but for some reason I couldn't quite place it.”

Rin giggled. “It's true. Mama and I are really alike.”

“I think if anyone here needs to be thanked for anything, it's you,” Alisa whispered, her voice growing husky. “When I was lost inside myself, you fought to protect me. You risked yourself to save me, to bring me back to you. Even with everything so chaotic and grim, I couldn't be happier to be back with you.”

“Oh?” Rin arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Actually, I think I know what we could do that would increase my happiness even more,” Alisa purred, her tone growing low and husky. She cupped Rin's chin in her hand and turned the girl's face toward her, smothering her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Rin's eyes widened briefly at the enthusiasm in the gesture, but she quickly felt the emotions build up within her. She felt Alisa's warm emotions flow through the link between them and was quickly swept away.

Moments later—far too soon for Rin!—Alisa pulled away, her cheeks flushed pink, her stormy gray eyes heavy-lidded. Her lips curled into a coquettish smile.

“Yeah, that was a much better thank-you than mine,” Rin murmured, her voice sounding more than a little dazed.

“I'm not finished yet.”

Alisa's hands traveled slowly down her thighs and grasped the hem of her borrowed white gown. She wore nothing underneath. The interior of the apartment was cool and comfortable against her bare skin. Her eyes traveled over her partner and the cute short dress she wore.

“Do you want to take it off, or should I?” Rin managed. She still seemed just a little dazed from the kiss.

“I'll do it.”

Catching the hem gently in her grasp, Alisa lifted the thin dress up and over, letting it fall to the carpet nearby. Beneath the sundress, Rin wore a beautifully-crafted lace bra of the softest petal-pink. Alisa was no expert on clothing, but the barely-perceptible unevenness and intricacies of the lace indicated a hand-made piece.

“I see you made preparations.”

“Of course.” Rin giggled softly. “So long as we're connected, I can always tell how you're feeling… and I wanted to look nice for you.”

“You look beautiful, as always,” Alisa whispered, her fingertips sliding up Rin's slender torso, over the curvature of her partner's small breasts. She cupped them in her hands, squeezing lightly. Rin's eyelids drooped and she let out a contented moan.

“Mm, you should see the matching bottoms,” Rin cooed, leaning back on the couch and propping herself up with her arms.

Alisa kissed Rin's cheek, applying only the faintest touch of pressure, her lips brushing downward toward the soft skin of her partner's neck. Rin's violet eyes fluttered slightly as she lost herself in the sensation, her lattice diagram overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions from the link between them.

Next went Rin's leggings, tossed aside to rest on the floor with her dress. Alisa peeled the skintight garment off to reveal the promised matching panties, a rather low-cut affair decorated with more of the meticulously handmade lace. The sheer fabric beneath the lace was just ever so slightly damp.

Alisa placed trembling fingertips on the thin waistband and closed them around it, tugging the panties down Rin's slender legs. Rin simply relaxed, letting herself fall against the couch, lifting her lower body to facilitate the removal.

“Don't tease me so much,” Rin whined, her voice hitching slightly.

“I won't,” Alisa promised her, dipping down to kiss the tender mound. Rin felt her mind blank out at the intimate touch, her skin aflame as Alisa's warm lips pressed against her. Rin's hands, trembling with her excitement, reached upward and unsnapped the front closure of her bra, peeling the undergarment away from her breasts.

Alisa grinned and looked up, her curly hair brushing against Rin's inner thighs, a soft and maddening caress. Her lover's breasts were small, the pale pink nipples already stiffening from arousal and barely-contained anticipation.

“Alisa—” Rin gasped, but Alisa cut her off with warm lips.

“Shh. Just relax.”

Rin nodded wordlessly and felt slender fingers against her breasts, rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. The simultaneous blend of sensations sent shivers coursing through her body and mind. Her fused base processes could no longer identify the overwhelming intensity of sensory data as discrete information.

Rin felt Alisa's lips and fingertips everywhere at once—on her nipples, swollen and throbbing with wondrous agony, on her belly, on her inner thighs. Her awareness of the next few minutes was disjointed through the warm pleasure of the physical and the emotional deluge through their shared link. Alisa's wavy locks tickled her, tracing lines of brilliant, painless fire that raced through her at the speed of light.

A wordless whimper and ragged gasp of anticipation escaped Rin's lips as Alisa positioned herself between Rin's spread legs and started to bend down. Rin let out a loud and long squeal of delight, her hips jerking violently, her hands squeezing against her own breasts, as she felt Alisa move tenderly, lovingly inside her.

Rin felt her consciousness buffeted by whirls of intense, brilliant flashes. Processes halted, freezing as her mind demanded more resources, more power in a hopeless attempt to analyze the indescribable. Her hips bucked, gently at first, then a bit more vigorously as her body responded to her lover's touch.

Alisa lifted her head and giggled softly. “Lie back and close your eyes, love. This is only the beginning.”

Rin's perception of the next few minutes was blurred by a haze of intense euphoria. Her hips tensed, her back arched, all of their own volition—in the back corner of her mind, Rin knew that these were her body's reactions, placed there intentionally for this very purpose.

Panting, exhaling rapidly, Rin was aware of a series of plaintive but steadily building moans in her own voice. A pressure within her mind swelled and exploded into a raging torrent of pleasure that seemed to coalesce into a single, high-pitched vocalization that escaped her lips as her beloved partner's velvety-soft tongue and lips brushed something especially sensitive.

Violet eyes snapped open. Though Rin didn't need oxygen to survive—didn't even need to breathe at all—she found herself panting rapidly. Her living skin was coated in a sheen of sweat, but it wasn't real sweat. It was just something built into her body to make it appear more human. All of the wonderful warm sensations of the afterglow seemed to drift away, distancing themselves from her awareness by a crushing sadness that spread through her mind.

It was all programmed. Just part of her body's construction. It was simply doing as it was created to do, making all of the physiological reactions to intimacy that a human would expect from another human—

Stop.

Alisa drew herself up, her lips glistening with moisture, her cheeks flushed faintly with her lingering desire. The look in her eyes was reproachful. Rin was lost in her partner's gaze, paralyzed by indecision, not knowing what to say or do.

“You aren't a fake, love.” Alisa's tone was gentle but held a core of hard steel. “Do you really think it's any different for me or any other human? My heavy breathing, my wildly beating heart, the flush on my cheeks, the burning ache for release—you do inspire that within me, but it was programmed into my body. I never consciously chose to react this way. It just happens.”

Rin looked unconvinced. Alisa clambered over her lover's bent and spread legs, curling her body around Rin's. She grasped Rin's hand and gently guided it between her legs. The delicate, slender fingers slid inside and Alisa shivered as a jolt of pleasure exploded through her body, emerging as a wordless, breathy gasp.

“You see… it's the same.” Her breathing grew labored and her voice turned husky. “You are a person, you are real. Just as your body was designed to react to my touch, mine evolved to react to… to—ah!—yours.”

Tears gathered in the corner of Rin's eyes as she felt her mind swell with joy at the love honestly directed to her, even if everything about her was just another programmed—

No.

It didn't matter. Alisa was right; the paths taken were different, but the destination was the same. It didn't matter that her body was intentionally designed to respond this way, to deliciously stimulate her consciousness at her precious partner's touch.

Rin shoved aside her doubts and pressed her lips against Alisa's, pushing her partner over onto her back. The girl shifted her body atop Alisa's and slowly traced a circle on the soft skin of her thighs, lazily drifting between them. The synthetic nerves in her fingertips could feel the soft, pliable folds, warm and just barely wet from her lover's desire.

Alisa broke the kiss and gasped from the contact, sucking in air. Rin gave her an apologetic smile through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Unlike certain girls I know, I do need to breathe.”

Rin giggled, brushing a sweat-dampened lock of reddish-brown hair from her partner's eyes. “I'm deeply sorry, love. I'll do my best to make up for such a thoughtless action.”

“I accept your sincerely offered apolo—” The remainder of Alisa's sentence was lost to a low, whimpering moan. Alisa squeezed her eyes shut tight as a soft scraping of teeth and warm lips against her nipples sent a wonderfully agonizing current running through her.

Rin's fingers spread and pinched and gently stroked. She traced them outward against the silky soft flesh of Alisa's inner thighs, moving the tips in patterns that inched ever closer back toward the center.

“Rin… please,” Alisa managed, the motions of Rin's fingers sending shivers up and down her spine. Her breathing had grown shallow and rapid. Her tawny skin glistened with sweat, reflecting the room's dim lighting. “G-go ahead… go inside me, n-now… please.”

Rin didn't respond with words but with actions. She drew herself back, down between her partner's legs and placed her hands on the insides of Alisa's thighs. Rin's lips curved into a catlike smile as she saw how the smooth mound glistened slightly with moisture. Her lover was most certainly ready.

They sank more deeply into the cushions as Alisa's entire body jerked in spasm, her back arching and her head shoving back against the pillow. Rin's lips were burning hot against her; the delicate, clever little tongue darted in and out, just barely touching, brushing against the too-soft pink folds. She could hear Alisa's breathing become more rapid, the little involuntary sounds like whispers that slowly began to build into loud, sustained moans as Rin exchanged gentleness for assertiveness.

Those soft thighs clenched, clamping around Rin's head as she pushed deeper inside her lover. Alisa's powerful legs could exert considerable force in the throes of her ecstasy, but Rin would be unaffected. Lacking the need to breathe, Rin let her partner draw her in further, crushing her inside. Her lips ground against an erect bud of flesh; she thrust her tongue out and against her lover's most sensitive spot.

Judging by the increasing frequency and urgency of Alisa's vocalizations, Rin estimated it would take roughly another twenty seconds to wrack her partner's body and mind with blissful, explosive release. The pressure exerted by her thighs intensified for a brief instant and then slackened as Alisa groaned low in her throat. Rin smiled inwardly and focused all of her considerable attention on that single spot.

Only eighteen seconds later, Alisa's rhythmic procession of vocalizations merged and blended into one wordless, high-pitched expression of ecstatic release. Panting, the woman struggled to open her eyes. Rin was right there, her face shiny with Alisa's sweat and bodily fluids, and her usually immaculate black hair was disheveled.

“Hi there, pretty lady. How do you feel?”

“Um, really good.”

Rin curled her body around her exhausted lover and smiled. “Just 'really good?' Not like 'super great' or 'amazingly awesome' or 'absolutely the best sex I've ever had in my entire life,' or anything like that?”

“H-hey, give me a break.” Alisa took a deep breath and exerted a considerable effort of will to shift her spent body just enough to nestle closer against Rin. “My arms and legs feel like they're made out of jelly.”

Alisa's mouth opened wide in a long yawn. Rin felt her smile widen and she gently tugged at the blanket rolled up on the other side of the couch. She could feel the heat emanating from her partner's body, trapped by the fluffy cover and absorbed into her own bare skin.

Rin kissed Alisa's cheek lightly and drew the two of them even closer together. Alisa turned dreamy gray eyes on her partner and offered a sleepy smile.

“Um. I love you, Rin. A whole lot.”

Rin pressed a fingertip against Alisa's lips. “I love you, too, Alisa. Now, close your eyes and sleep. You need your rest.”

The artificial intelligence—who was most definitely a real person—watched as her lover's stormy gray eyes slowly closed. Alisa's breathing became even and regular, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Rin made minute positional adjustments to maximize her precious partner's comfort as she slept.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

[-]

Alisa awoke slowly to a familiar combination of scents—the delicate fragrance of dried flower petals mingled with the faintest hint of warm electronics, but both of these were overpowered by the strong, earthy smell of freshly-brewed coffee. Her lips curved slightly in a smile before she even opened her eyes. Those mingled scents…

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Gray eyes opened and Alisa yawned as she sat up, her expression becoming puzzled as she realized she was in the bed rather than on the couch where she'd fallen asleep. The expected cup of coffee with single cream sat on the nightstand.

“Morning,” Alisa murmured as she picked up the coffee Rin brought for her. Bringing it to her lips, she took a slow sip and found the temperature perfect, just hot enough to spread a pleasant warmth through her core.

“What time is it?”

“A little after 1100 hours.” Rin sat down on the couch across from the bed and sipped at her own cup, her eyes following the tendril of steam that rose from the surface. “After you fell asleep last night, I moved you to the bed and spent the night taking care of a few things.”

“Why didn't you wake me earlier?” Alisa inquired.

“You needed rest. I don't think your body and brain actually got much while you were incapacitated. You looked asleep, but your brain waves told a very different story.” Rin took another swallow of her coffee and sighed contentedly. “You're going to be weak for a little while, even after the regeneration cycle.”

“I suppose there's no use in getting upset about it.”

“There really isn't. Anyway, I spoke with Sara a little bit earlier. The Section Zero dock crews are prepping the Luminaire for our mission. Since we have no idea how long it'll take to find the flight recorder, the ship's being loaded up with supplies.”

Alisa shrugged and drank her coffee. “It shouldn't be too bad. When it was still in service, the usual crew complement for a Corsair was four. Though with only two of us actually needing to sleep, we won't have to hot-bunk.”

“Sara's modifications to her ship reduce the amount of supplies we can carry,” Rin pointed out. “She's used to flying the thing alone with a combat SI to help her out during battles. A lot of the cargo space was sacrificed to upgrade the vessel's shields and weapons systems.”

“How long can we stay out there?”

“A week,” Rin replied. “After that, we won't have a choice but to dock somewhere to resupply. I doubt we'll be able to remain in-system for longer than that considering the heavy Gray presence in the region.”

“Do we have threat distribution maps?”

“No. When Captain Zachary pulled the Infiltrator away from the mission area, we lost all of our observer drones. All the threat maps are a month out of date. It doesn't matter how good Mama's security clearance is if the data doesn't exist to begin with.”

Alisa sighed and stood up, feeling the stiffness slowly drain out of her legs. She swallowed the last of her coffee and started to head for the shower. They suspended any further conversation while Alisa got herself ready; Rin had apparently availed herself of the shower earlier while her partner slept.

Without a strict time limit on how much water she could use, Alisa decided to linger beneath the scalding stream. The warmth passed through her skin and into her muscles, working out knots and kinks that she wasn't aware existed. A little liquid wash made short work of the sticky remnants of the previous night's activities.

By the time she came out of the bathroom, Rin had already set her clothes out. Since they were accompanying Sara Loewe in the Luminaire, there was no need for hardsuits. Alisa pulled on her underwear and the sleek black leggings that conformed to her curves like a second skin. The outfit was rounded out with a fitted purple top and light gray jacket that was both functional and stylish.

“How do I look?” Alisa smiled and spun around as if she were modeling a new dress on the runway. “Dashing, no? These boots are very nice.”

“You'd always look cute no matter what you wore,” Rin said in an indulgent tone.

“Mm, I'm glad you think so.” Alisa leaned forward and her lips brushed against Rin's. It was a long moment before either of them pulled away.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” She squeezed her partner's right hand affectionately. “What's on your mind, love?”

“Is it true that you wanted to make dresses for a living when you were a child?”

Alisa blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in subject. Tangled fragments of memories slid into a new alignment, coming back together within her mind. Bits and pieces of images flickered into focus in a way they'd never done before.

“I can't recall too well, but… I think you're right,” she murmured, staring at Rin with wide gray eyes. “Most of the memories of my foster parents are disjointed and fragmented, like there's data missing and the files can't be read.”

“That's, well, my fault.”

“What?”

Rin sighed and looked away. “The reason you can't remember very much about your teenage years is my fault.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Alisa frowned and looked deeply into her beloved partner's eyes. She could see pain and guilt in Rin's expression, in the way her shoulders drooped slightly.

“When you were younger, something terrible happened and you retreated within your own mind,” Rin explained, her voice halting and uncertain. “It was a lot worse than what happened after Lindy was killed. You were so deeply withdrawn, and for so long, that your brain and body were starting to break down.”

Alisa didn't respond to that.

“I told you I'd fill you in on what I learned while you were disconnected.” Rin sat down on the edge of the bed. She sighed unhappily. “I wasn't originally created to fly fighters with you, nor was I created at the Fleet Academy seven years ago when you first enlisted in the Advanced Starfighter Corps.”

“I suspected that much,” Alisa mused.

“Mama welcomed me into the world almost twelve years ago, here, in this very facility—though at the time it was in a different star system. Section Zero needed me to try to bring you out of your dissociative state.”

“What? Why would Section Zero care about that?”

“Because you can do something most humans can't,” Rin answered, violet eyes locking onto her partner's face. “You survived the attack on Proxima Centauri for the same reason you have a natural talent for fighting the Gray.”

Alisa stared hard at her partner. “What?”

“I don't know all of the details, but Section Zero has been studying you closely for the past twelve years. You're the only living person identified thus far who has the ability to sense warp dislocations.”

“I'm not following you.”

“I told you I don't know how it works—you'll have to ask Mama about that. Something about unstable hypermatter particles interacting with the nerves in parts of your brain.” Rin's shoulders slumped even further. “The Gray communicate via hyperspace signals propagated by creating low-level spacetime distortions. Section Zero theorized that the reason you fight the Gray so well is because you can intuitively feel those distortions, and from that, gain a subconscious understanding of their communication and coordination.”

Alisa's jaw dropped at the enormity of that revelation. The dilemma of the Gray's method of local communications stymied the Alliance ever since the war began. During the dark days of humanity's fighting retreat from the Sol system, it was quickly discovered that ordinary signal jamming technologies had no effect on the Gray's ability to coordinate their actions. For centuries, Alliance scientists and engineers devoted themselves to figuring out the secret, but to her knowledge no one ever had.

Apparently Section Zero managed to figure it out at some point. But the idea that she was capable of unconsciously tapping into Gray communication?

“That explains a lot of things about my life,” Alisa said, breaking the silence that seemed to stretch into infinity. “I always thought it was High Command's interest in our sync rate and our high kill counts. Like they were rewarding us with more freedom because we were just that good.”

“That isn't exactly false, either.” Rin placed her hand tentatively on her partner's thigh. It was clear she was still very nervous about something, but Alisa couldn't figure out what. “The Alliance went out of its way to keep you happy so that they could keep the both of us fighting Gray as often as possible. I'm sure you noticed our mission count is nearly three times higher than the average pilot in the ASC.”

“I did notice, but again, I always assumed it was simply because we were so effective at killing the enemy.”

“That's just a side-effect.” Rin shook her head. “Section Zero has always been collecting combat data from our missions. The more data they collect, the more they can learn about the Gray's hypercom system.”

“So what does this have to do with my memories of my childhood?”

Spikes of guilt and apprehension surged through the link. Rin's expression was enough to break Alisa's heart, but it was far too late to stop now.

“I spent a year with you inside your mind, trying to figure out some way to bring you back. It was during that year that we… that we fell in love.” Tears started to roll down Rin's cheeks. “We were together and I was happy for that, but you couldn't wake up because you were too hurt. I tried everything I could think of to try and reassure you, to comfort you, to help you heal… but the damage was just too great.”

Alisa gazed at her precious partner for a long, quiet moment. Rin's pain flowed through the link between them, bright and miserable. It was almost too much for Alisa to bear—she wanted to stop her, to hold her, to kiss her and tell her that whatever it was, whatever happened, it didn't matter. To do everything in her power to make the person she loved stop hurting.

But she couldn't. Alisa knew there was nothing she could do. It had to be confessed or Rin would never stop hurting inside.

“What did you do?”

“I… erased a large part of your memory,” Rin whispered in broken tones. “I found the source of your pain, but I couldn't ease it. I couldn't heal it. I couldn't make you stop hurting, and so I made you forget why you were hurting in the first place.”

Alisa said nothing.

“I… I'll understand if you hate me. I did something horrible to you. I stole a part of you because I wasn't good enough, because I got frustrated and impatient and couldn't get you to wake up. I'll understand if you don't love me anymore—”

“Rin. Stop.”

Rin recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. Her lip quivered as she did her best to suppress her sobs, trying to remain strong in the face of her absolute worst fear—that Alisa would no longer love her.

“I'm so sorry. I'll… I'll go now—”

“Damn it, Rin, I said stop,” Alisa snapped, cutting her off abruptly. “Are you serious? Are you really saying what I think you're saying? I can't believe this. I can't believe you'd even think something like this.”

“I—”

“How could you ever think I'd stop loving you?”

“But I—”

Alisa shook her head violently. “No, Rin. It doesn't matter. Do you get me? It doesn't matter. Not even one little tiny bit. This changes nothing at all.” Her furious expression started to soften ever so slightly. “I can't believe you would think that I would reject you because you saved my life!”

Rin didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. She only stared, wide-eyed, at the woman who she loved more than anything in the universe. She'd never before seen Alisa this angry, but the source of the anger was not at all what she'd expected!

“Don't you dare say or think something like this ever again,” Alisa choked out. Her gray eyes were narrowed in a deep scowl, but glimmered with unshed tears. “You're a part of me, Rin, and I'm a part of you. We can never be separated. Never.”

“Y-yes, I understand.” Rin's voice was thick and childish, filled with chagrin, but Alisa could feel the intense waves of relief roaring through the link that bound them together.

“I love you, you silly girl.” Alisa sniffled and wiped away tears. “I trust you implicitly. With everything that I am and everything that I will ever become. If you had to take a part of my memory to bring me back, then I accept your decision without reservation.”

“There wasn't anything else I could do,” Rin murmured. “I spent a long time trying.”

Alisa smiled through her tears. With a strangled cry of mingled joy and pain in equal parts, she rushed into her lover's arms, holding her tight. Slender fingers brushed through her hair and she looked up into those huge violet irises.

“You saved me, and you gave me the chance to spend my life with you. I can't think of anything else in the universe that I'd want more.”

10

Forty-eight hours later, Alisa sat in the pilot's seat of the modified Corsair, her hand resting easily on the stick and throttle assembly. It was different than the Lancer, but after spending a few minutes sending the scout gunship through a series of standard combat maneuvers, she had gotten the hang of it.

Rin sat behind her in the navigator and gunner's station—unlike their Lancer's cockpit, the stations were reversed, with Alisa closer to the vessel's bow. The owner of the ship herself somewhat sullenly took one of the tech stations behind the cockpit module.

Alisa could almost feel Sara's irritation at being pushed out of the pilot's seat, but their responsibilities had been divided to play to their strengths. Alisa would fly the ship and take control of the particle beam and 36mm guns. Sara kept her eyes locked on the detailed sensor reports while her combat SI had control over the two laser turrets mounted top and bottom.

Rin herself would handle tactical forecasting and ECM, but she also controlled the two marionette drones taken from the custom Lancer they flew during the battle with the Red Claw. Section Zero's dock crew set up mounts for the little attack remotes in order to give them additional punch in the likely event of an encounter with the Gray.

“We're entering the next search area,” Sara announced, though it was unnecessary as Alisa could see it in the nav display. She moved the stick over lightly and pointed the Corsair's rounded nose toward the next enormous section of empty black void.

“Any opposition nearby?”

“They seem to be concentrated to the other side of the system.” Rin tapped a series of commands into the console. “Sensor latency is pretty extreme at these ranges, but as long as we keep our distance, we should still be able to slip away long before they notice us.”

Suppressing a yawn, Alisa tried to keep her focus as the Luminaire moved slowly and methodically through wide swaths of emptiness. Each search area was enormous and debris from that fateful battle were scattered so far and wide that it was difficult to tell it had even happened.

“I'm starting to wonder if the recorder hadn't just been vaporized along with half of the ship,” Sara muttered as she rubbed her tired eyes. Sensor data scrolled across her multiple holo displays, but nothing interesting stuck out amidst all the scan results.

“The flight recorders are built to withstand just about any sort of abuse possible,” Rin informed her. “It's more likely that we'll just overlook it—keep a close watch on the sensors and continue to run scans every ten minutes.”

Sara gritted her teeth in frustrated impatience. “Yeah, yeah.”

“We're only on the third day.” Alisa turned in her seat and fixed the grumpy fringe troubleshooter with an irritated glare. “If we don't find anything today, we keep looking tomorrow. We're going to stay out here as long as we can.”

“I know that, but nobody ever said I had to like it.” Sara grimaced at the two likely scenarios that presented themselves. “Either we find it or we don't, and after days of active sensor pings it's only a matter of time before the Gray realize someone's here snooping around and send a few ships to investigate—”

“Speak of the devil.” Rin punched up several windows on the shell display. “There's a patrol coming to check us out. Two gunboats—I guess they don't consider us much of a threat if that's all they've sent.”

“They probably didn't get a good enough scan of the Luminaire to know what sort of heat she's packing,” Sara muttered. “Their funeral I suppose.”

Alisa frowned at the tactical display. “Shouldn't we try to avoid them? If we engage in combat, the rest of the Gray forces will be alerted to our presence. We can't jam them, after all.”

“I doubt we'll be able to.” Rin's violet eyes briefly went unfocused and flickered with inner light as she deepened her connection to the Luminaire's computer systems. “They're not just headed over here to check the area; they're headed directly for us.”

“Let's play dead,” Alisa suggested. “Put all systems into low power mode but keep the burst banks charged up. When they get close enough we'll hit them with everything we've got.”

“And sacrifice our biggest advantage?” Sara scoffed at the suggestion. “Look, we just wait in the debris and blast them both with the particle beam as soon as they come within range. It's not that complicated.”

“Firing the particle beam will let every Gray vessel in sensor range know we're here.”

“They're going to figure that out anyway,” the fringe troubleshooter retorted. “They're Gray. We can't jam them and it won't take them long at all to notice the Luminaire is in better shape than she was the day she flew out of the shipyard.”

“No, it's a good idea,” Alisa mused, in response to Sara's reluctance as well as speaking her own thoughts aloud. “I have a feeling we should try for a surprise attack. Overt aggressive behavior will bring a lot more unwanted attention.”

“Fine. Do what you want. It's not like this is my ship or anything.”

“Sara, please,” Rin implored. “We can't let the Gray chase us out of the system before we've either located the recorder or given up. If we execute the ambush well enough, they won't have a chance to call for help before they're taken out and we'll buy some more time.”

“I already said it's fine.” The fringe troubleshooter let out a slow breath. “The two of you definitely know what you're doing when it comes to combat operations. The battle with Jean's flunkies more than proved that.”

“Shutting down all non-essential systems.” Rin's eyes flickered briefly and the cabin lights suddenly went out, plunging the interior of the cockpit into darkness. “Now we look a bit deader than we did a few minutes ago.”

“It should be enough,” Alisa muttered as she tightened her grip on the stick. “Weapons switched over. Sara, let's do a delay-fire with your lasers. The instant you see their shields go down, hit them with everything you've got.”

The fringe troubleshooter nodded. “Acknowledged.”

They watched through the tactical display as the two Gray gunboats closed in, moving inexorably forward. The Luminaire hung lifeless in space, appearing to be a dead ship at a distance, but Alisa knew the moment the Gray took a closer look at it with high-resolution sensor packages, they'd realize the truth. The gunboats seemed to fly much more cautiously than usual for Gray pilots, however.

Alisa glanced at Rin. “Is it just me, or are these Gray acting… strange?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure,” Alisa admitted, frowning. “They seem to be a lot more timid than usual. I don't know—I just get a really weird feeling from those two. Like they're afraid of something. I can't really explain it better than that.”

“Assuming they can even feel fear,” Sara opined. “After hearing the whole thing from Hyun-ae, though, I'm inclined to believe you've subconsciously tuned into their chatter. Even if you can't understand it, you can get a general feel for them.”

“Possible.” Alisa's expression was grim. “That's speculation best left for a time when we're not being hunted.”

The gunboats were almost on top of them. It was now or never.

Alisa jammed the throttle all the way to its stops at exactly the same moment all six drive emitters flared to life. Linked together, Alisa and Rin operated with cool efficiency, each anticipating the other's intentions.

“Shunting burst banks to shields,” Rin reported, her tone cool and collected. “We're at 82 percent.”

Alisa tapped the maneuvering pedals, sending the Luminaire into an elegant slide technique that brought her directly behind one of the gunboats. The targeting software established a positive lock and she squeezed the trigger. Dozens of impactors poured into the gunboat's aft shields. Alisa watched in satisfaction a moment later as the Gray's shields sparked and sputtered brilliantly, overloading from the sudden, savage assault.

“Their aft shields are down!” Alisa snapped.

Sara's lips twisted in a feral grin as she hit the enemy vessel with a withering barrage of firepower. The laser turrets, unimpeded by the near immunity of Gray shields, unleashed invisible beams of ultraviolet death that vaporized unshielded hull plating, the missiles arriving only a few seconds later, penetrating deep within the shredded armor before erupting into brilliant fire.

“That one's out of the fight,” Alisa noted, taking only a quick look at the tactical display. She had enough experience shooting these things down that she didn't even need the computer to tell her how much damage she'd done.

The damaged gunboat was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of thick white vapor; Alisa had been spot on. The lasers and impactors punched through the aft section, mangled the ship's engines and ripped apart the cooling system that kept the vessel's fusion reactor operating smoothly.

“The other gunboat is coming around,” Sara noted. “Deploying anti-laser countermeasures.” The fringe troubleshooter pressed a key on her console. One of the modifications she made to the Luminaire was to scrap the observation drone system and replace it with a specialized mine dropper loaded with diffusion mines.

Alerts scrolled across Alisa's tactical display. As the small cylindrical mines tumbled out of the release port, she wondered briefly if they worked as well as advertised. Probably not, she suspected, else the Alliance would have slapped them on every ship they could. She waited until the gunboat entered the predicted boundaries of the gas cloud and thumbed a small switch on her control stick.

“Mines are detonating.”

A series of small explosions registered on the tactical display. Alisa watched as the space around them was suddenly filled with a dense, sparkling reddish-pink haze. The shell display's cameras couldn't penetrate the expanding gas plumes, but Alisa wrenched the Luminaire around and plunged right into the thick cloud.

“The gunboat followed us in,” Rin noted.

Alisa grinned. “Not very wise of it.” She jerked the stick slightly and tapped her pedals, sending the Corsair into a chaotic series of spins, twists, rolls and loops that kept them moving but also kept them within the confines of the cloud. It didn't dissuade their opponent, however, and the tactical display beeped a warning.

Sara kept her eyes focused on her sensor displays. She punched a command into the console and brought up a secondary tactical window. “The gunboat is firing. Shields are dropping, but slowly.”

“That's… actually impressive,” Alisa marveled as she watched the shield indicator tick down with each hissing laser strike. “How much is it cutting their power?”

“Looks like a little less than half,” the fringe troubleshooter replied. “It'll probably be a lot more of a drop if they weren't so close, but we'd need a lot more gas to cover that kind of area.”

“Probably why the Alliance never bothered to use diffusion mines.”

Sara shrugged. “We use what we can out on the fringe.”

“Makes sense,” Alisa muttered dryly as she dove and broke hard to the left, trying to get a clear shot. The gunboat loomed in front of her, the larger ship's flank vulnerable. Alisa squeezed her trigger tightly, blasting through the shields with dual linear cannons. Sara's lasers fired a split-second after the shields failed, saturating the gunboat's armor with deadly thermal energy. The diffusion cloud reduced the power of her shots just as it did with the Gray's, but with no shields to deflect the majority of the energy, even heavily attenuated beams were devastating.

The gunboat's starboard flank was a twisted, melted mess—armor plates had ablated off from the relentless barrage of laser fire. But it still flew and the pilot was definitely more skilled than the average gunboat driver. Even hampered by a severely damaged ship, the pilot made their craft dance, evading the Luminaire's renewed attacks with an almost casual ease.

Alisa snarled wordlessly and fell deeper within herself, focusing her skill and experience into a blade with which to strike at her enemy. She tapped the pedals and jammed her throttle forward, squeezing the thumb trigger that activated the Corsair's powerful boost thrusters.

The scout vessel surged forward and entered a controlled slide as Alisa and Sara both started firing in staggered intervals. The 36mm guns battered down the Gray's shields, stripping the gunboat's primary advantage in a close fight—near immunity to laser fire. The fringe troubleshooter deftly manipulated her turrets, splashing the enemy ship's unshielded hull with all four lasers cycling rapidly.

Drives flaring brightly, the Gray vessel attempted to evade, but the vessel's propulsion system soon sputtered, coughed and died altogether. The ruined gunboat continued along its current vector, but without functional drives, the pilot couldn't alter course at all.

“He's dead in the void,” Rin announced with no small amount of satisfaction.

“Good thing, too, because the lasers are getting pretty hot,” Sara added, grimacing as she tapped out an override. Clouds of white gas were faintly visible through the shell display as the Luminaire's overstressed coolant lines were flushed.

“That gunboat pilot was really skilled,” Alisa noted. “I don't think I've ever seen the Gray fight so hard or so… creatively. The pilot seemed to have more than a little signature individuality to their flying style.”

Rin glanced at the tactical display and examined the maneuvers the gunboats managed during the brief battle. “You were right. These Gray were definitely acting strange.”

“Strange how?” Sara peered at the sensor records on her holo display and frowned. “I don't see anything out of the ordinary here. Just usual Gray tactics: get in close and try to fry the enemy as quickly as possible.”

Alisa shook her head. “No, there's something else going on here. Those gunboats were trying to avoid the other Gray vessels in the system. Like they were as worried about them as we were—”

A searing-hot knife blade of pain suddenly stabbed deep into Alisa's brain, cutting her argument short. Dark spots danced on her vision and crushing waves of nausea washed over her. Dimly, through some part of her awareness that held onto consciousness, Alisa was aware that both Rin and Sara were trying to talk to her, but she couldn't hear them above the howling rush of blood in her own ears.

“What… is… happening…?” Alisa bit out, her jaw clenching so hard she felt the muscles bunch up and spasm.

“Alisa!” Rin cried. “What's wrong?”

“I… don't… AGH!”

Alisa felt herself curl into a ball, her knees shoved painfully against her chin, her muscles contracting and her hands gripping her temples as if she were holding on for dear life. White-hot agony exploded behind her eyes and her vision went black.

Rin was shouting at her. “Alisa! Please! I can't feel you through the link!”

Alisa could not reply—her jaw felt as if it had been permanently welded shut. Her teeth ground together and the muscles in her neck stood out obviously against the skin as her body tried to do anything to relieve the blinding pain in her head.

Distorted images flashed through her mind's eye—bright snapshots, flashes and fragments of thoughts and emotions. The pain only intensified, but something else had happened; within the agony, the alien and chaotic stream of information seemed to coalesce into a dazzlingly-complex structure.

And then, just as suddenly as it had happened, the contact was gone, abruptly cut off. The flow of incomprehensible information was stilled.

“Alisa! Are you all right?” Rin had climbed out of the copilot's seat and was standing on the ramp beside her, a fearful expression plastered on her face.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Sara demanded. “What's wrong with her?”

Rin shrugged helplessly. “I don't know!”

Dull, aching agony throbbed through her head. Alisa groaned wordlessly and collapsed, half her body hanging off the arm rests of the pilot's seat. She licked her lips and tasted blood, apparently having bitten through her lip.

“I-I can feel you again!” Rin's eyes were shining wetly. “For a while there, while you were—I couldn't… I couldn't feel you at all! Are you sure you're okay?”

Alisa took a deep breath and slid back into the pilot's seat. “I'm fine now, I think. I think I… I think know what happened.”

“Oh, no, your implant is going bad, isn't it?” Rin blurted out, tears streaking her pale cheeks.

“Wait just a fucking minute here—” Sara began, her face clouding over in anger, but her tirade was interrupted by a rapid-fire outpouring of worried words.

“I-I was afraid this might happen even though Sara's really good with cybernetics but maybe the black market parts she got weren't good, and oh, we should go somewhere quickly and get it looked at and, I know, we should go somewhere nice and rest for a while—”

“Rin!” Alisa shouted, sitting up abruptly and sending fresh waves of dizziness through her. She resolutely ignored them. “Calm down, please! I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with my implant, okay?”

Rin stopped abruptly, blinking her violet eyes brimming with tears. She bit her lower lip nervously, looking for all the world like a lost little girl. Alisa felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to hug her—so she did. Her fingertips brushed against Rin's cheeks lightly, wiping the tears away.

“What the hell was that, then?” Sara's tone was defensive, clipped. “It sure as hell wasn't my fault. I checked the parts before I installed them and tested everything back to front.”

“What else could it be?” Rin shot back.

“Rin, please. I know it's not your fault, Sara.” Alisa gazed out at the empty blackness through the shell display. “I think I know what it was—no, I'm positive I know. That Gray pilot we engaged… just tried to talk to me. Directly.”

For the first time Alisa could remember, Rin was speechless.

“It's gone now. The gunboat blew up?”

Sara glanced at her instruments and nodded. “Yeah. Both of them died.”

“Right when my head stopped hurting,” Alisa said, her voice shaky but stronger. “I'm not completely sure… but when it was happening, I saw something in my mind. Thoughts, images, concepts that felt incomprehensible. Shoved into my mind—it feels like a memory, but I can't make heads or tails of it.”

Rin squeezed her partner's shoulder gently. “I could try to examine it through the link, see if I can decipher it—”

“Not now.” Alisa straightened her shoulders and shook her head. “We have to find that data recorder and get out of here before more Gray ships come to investigate. Let's skip to the last search grids and hope they don't realize what's going on. Hopefully we'll be able to find it before more of them show up.”

“Better hope we do,” Sara commented. “Doesn't seem like the other Gray picked up on our little scrap, but I wouldn't bet on us staying hidden for too much longer.”

[-]

Twelve hours later, while searching through the sixth grid location, the Corsair's sensors finally found an anomaly, a very weak signal pulsing a tightbeam radio transmission on Fleet emergency frequencies.

“I'm a little surprised we found it so quickly,” Alisa observed, her voice still a little groggy. While Sara and Alisa slept in the Luminaire's tiny crew cabin, Rin remained active and continued to sift through the rubble.

“Two and a half days is quickly?” The fringe troubleshooter sighed and put a hand to her forehead. “Not sure if I could stand being stuck in here with two other people for another day longer.”

Alisa snorted. “Hey, we're lucky we found it at all.” She turned her attention to Rin, her expression becoming all business. “Does it look okay?”

“The casing is probably scorched a bit, but if the locator beacon is still functional, the recorder itself should be intact.” Rin's eyes flickered as she examined the black box through the scout ship's sensor packages. “I'm going to try to pull it in, but there's a lot of debris in the way.”

“I'll use the lasers to clear some of it away,” Sara offered. “Can you tag the debris in the targeting systems?”

“I'm on it,” Rin said and a split-second later, glowing red icons began to fill the turret display. The fringe troubleshooter quickly picked her targets, firing the lasers in short, controlled pulses that burned bits and pieces of floating space-junk away.

“Careful.”

“I am being careful,” Sara snapped, sending a dirty look Rin's way. It only took her a few more minutes to cut away the fused, melted blobs of armor plating before the data recorder was visible. “Looks like it ended up stuck in a fragmented hull plate that only got a little melted.”

Rin nodded. “I'm sending a command signal to it now. There, it should be free of the drone housing. Deploying the maintenance drone and modifying control protocols for direct mode.”

Alisa and Sara watched through a ventral camera window as a small panel opened up and a delicate-looking robotic arm slowly emerged. The rest of the drone made its way out of the hatch, looking like an asymmetrical mechanical spider. The small automaton slowly made its way across the open space, easily slipping through the burned-away hole in the large hunk of melted and fused metal that had once been a part of Lindy's starfighter.

“Got it!” Rin cried. “Recalling the drone now.”

“Take it around top and open the access hatch.” Sara slipped out from beneath her crash harness and started deeper into the crew cabin. “We need to have a look at that thing now to make sure it's really what you're looking for.”

“It's what we're looking for,” Rin insisted. “There's no mistaking that this recorder came from Delta Four's Lancer.”

The fringe troubleshooter shrugged. “Whatever. Let's just get it inside so we can get the hell out of here.”

Alisa watched through the camera view again as the little spider-like machine made its way across the hull of the Corsair, disappearing from view as it climbed toward the access hatch on top.

“Curtain barrier is active,” Sara called out from her position beneath the Luminaire's dorsal access hatch. “Go ahead and open it, Rin.”

“Dorsal hatch opening.”

The hatch opened and the small maintenance drone crawled inside, passing through the hazy reddish barrier and entering the artificial gravity field. Sara winced as the drone fell to the deck with a deafening clang, the substantial mass of the flight recorder leaving a large dent in the floor. She ignored the inert automaton and wrestled the heavy armored case into the center of the crew cabin. The recorder itself was actually fairly small; the bulk of the device's mass was dedicated to the thick armor plating and radiation shielding that protected the memory cores inside.

“Warp core is fully charged,” Rin called out. “We're getting out of here now.”

Sara half-ran, half-walked toward the cockpit and dropped into the crew station she'd been occupying, quickly re-fastening her crash harness mere moments before the Luminaire made the jump.

The shell display suddenly flashed with colors. The strange and not-quite-real realm of hyperspace confused the cameras, causing them to display bright and chaotic bursts of light. Alisa looked away moments before the Corsair's systems shut down the external cameras, plunging the shell display into darkness.

“We'll be coming out in a few moments,” Rin reported. “The Luminaire's warp core can only tunnel thirty light-years on its own.”

Alisa studied the navigation display, examining their course projection. “Thirty light-years is far enough to keep the Gray from following us, especially since they have no idea which vector we took.”

“It'll take an hour for the Luminaire's warp core to recharge for the next jump,” Sara pointed out. “Should give you plenty of time to check that thing and make sure it's got what you need.”

“Only an hour?” Alisa was visibly impressed. “That's a lot less than I'd expect.”

Sara grinned. “I like to get where I'm going quickly.”

The shell display suddenly powered back on, resolving the three-dimensional image of interstellar space. The modified Corsair hung in the empty void between star systems, quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

“All right, let's go take a look at it.” Alisa climbed out of the pilot's seat and extended a hand to her partner. The two walked back into the crew cabin; Sara was already peering intently at the battered exterior of the armored case.

“Do you know how to take one of these apart?” Rin asked.

Sara shook her head. “Do I look like a starship mechanic?”

“It's a good thing I looked it up, then.” Kneeling down near the heavy armored box, Rin took a moment to inspect the exterior. “Now, if I send an authorization signal, it should unlock the casing so that I can extract the recorder itself…”

With a loud metallic thunk, the shell seemed to split along the horizontal axis, forming a half-centimeter gap. Rin reached down and grabbed the integrated handles, lifting the dense armored shroud off with scarcely any effort.

Sara whistled low. “Damn, you're strong. That shielding must be at least sixty kilos.”

“It's not light, that's for sure,” Rin muttered as she set the heavy shroud aside. Violet eyes narrowed as she examined the recorder itself, set inside a series of locking brackets and sliding closures. “Is there a toolkit here in the crew cabin?”

“Yeah.” Sara pointed her toe at a small cabinet near where Alisa knelt. “Behind that access panel. It's not locked—just open it up and grab it.”

Alisa did as she was instructed, fetching the plastic case containing a set of tools used for making small repairs to the consoles and terminals inside the Luminaire's interior. Rin opened the box without looking, selecting an automatic wrench that made short work of the fasteners holding the recorder inside the armored shell.

“There we go. Now, let's get this plugged into the ship's computer so I can take a look and see what's inside.”

Without its heavy protective casing, the flight data recorder was quite small, a sort of flattened rectangular box eighteen centimeters in length. A small monochrome display and a physical keypad dominated one side of the unit, enabling investigators to confirm the integrity of the data without having to plug the unit into a more capable computer.

Rin picked up the recorder and set it next to the crew cabin's sensor station. She depressed a catch and opened a sealed side panel on the recorder, revealing a row of universal data ports. A patch cable connected the recorder to the Luminaire's terminal and the device powered on immediately.

“It's negotiating the connection… done now.” Rin's eyes flickered as she poured over the data. “I don't detect any significant data corruption—everything is intact so far.”

“Pull up the shield data and start analyzing it.”

“Hey, I know what I'm doing here. Just give me a moment; it shouldn't take long at all. Let's see… most recent records. Well, well, isn't that interesting?”

Alisa gazed at the recorder steadily. “What's interesting?”

“I've accessed the pre-flight validation logs from before we sortied. The first one was from the usual maintenance shift. All the diagnostic ports were locked open for several hours. This was checked and signed off by Lieutenant Karen Moore.”

Alisa nodded. “That's normal and expected.”

“Right. What's not normal is that about fifteen minutes after Moore checked the work and closed all the ports, the aft ventral port was opened again. There's even a code authorization recorded in here.”

“Does it say who it belongs to?”

“Yes. According to my personnel files, the access code belongs to a junior maintenance technician assigned to the Infiltrator, one Specialist Martin Lee. His ID was used to authorize the diagnostic port unlock.”

“Suspicious,” Alisa mused. “What about the log files from the mission?”

“I'm looking. According to the system logs, the Lancer's antimatter furnace received an ignition override shortly after the battle began. I don't think I need to mention how totally wrong and absolutely not normal that is.”

Alisa gawked at the scrolling display of data. “What the hell?”

“It gets worse.” Rin's tone was grim. “Every five minutes after the initial command, one of the furnace's moderators was disabled via low-level diagnostic overrides. Again, something that shouldn't ever be allowed to happen with reaction mass present.”

Alisa's eyes narrowed. “There's no way this was an accident.”

“It would be impossible for this to happen under normal circumstances,” Rin agreed. “Whoever this Specialist Lee is, he was the one who uploaded the code that executed these commands.”

“Sounds like your saboteur wanted to turn that ship into a bomb,” Sara observed darkly. “With no moderators and a fired-up furnace, it'd only be a few minutes before the reaction rate went completely out of control. No damage needed—just a few minutes and then… boom. No more Lancer.”

“It's starting to look that way, yes.” Alisa frowned as she considered how else the two acts of sabotage might be connected. “The logs from our ship—if the code authorization for the ports match up, then we've found the link.”

Rin's expression brightened a bit. “That definitely gives us a place to start.”

“Wait, there's something else here.” Alisa pointed to an entry on the displayed data. “The cockpit module was ejected shortly before the catch rate reached critical levels. But there wasn't a distress signal—we would have all seen it. Beta Flight and the support tenders didn't find anything, either.”

“It's possible she may have escaped the blast itself but succumbed to the heat or the high-energy gamma flux,” Rin reminded her. “If Lindy did manage to survive, we would have found her.”

Alisa didn't respond.

“Don't get tangled up in a hypothetical, Alisa,” Rin warned. “Even if she punched out, the probability that Lindy survived the destruction of her Lancer is so astronomically tiny it might as well be zero.”

“Right,” Alisa murmured. “We should cross-reference the access codes, see if the same person opened diagnostic ports on both of our Lancers.”

“Just give me a moment and I'll have an answer for you.”

Rin's eyes unfocused briefly as she accessed the data stored within her. “The authorization codes match. We have our saboteur. I've never heard of this Specialist Lee, but then again I didn't talk much with the maintenance crew outside of Lieutenant Moore.”

“You're certain of this?” Sara inquired.

“The data speaks for itself.” Rin shrugged and took a step back from the device. “It's clear he wasn't especially bright. He used his own ID to unlock the diagnostic ports on both ours and Lindy's fighters. A more savvy agent would have covered his tracks a lot better.”

“Unless the ID was stolen,” Sara cut in. “Shady characters generally don't use their own IDs when committing a crime. Unless they're really stupid.”

“Possible, but unlikely.” Rin shook her head and pointed to the string of identifying digits on the data recorder's printout. “The IDs are keyed to the user's biometrics. They'd need to do a lot more than just steal the codes. Besides, even the maintenance techs can't directly alter the data inside a black box.”

“Something still doesn't feel right,” Alisa murmured, frowning.

“This is likely the best we're going to get.”

Alisa looked unconvinced. “But why would they leave such an obvious trail behind?”

“That's just it, Alisa. This trail isn't obvious.” Rin's expression darkened even further. “We were never even supposed to be out here—had their plan succeeded, you and I would have been taken by the fake ACS officer and kept under their control. The Alliance would still consider us fugitives, but we'd be imprisoned all the same. Nobody would have ever found this data.”

“Their plan would have worked if the commander hadn't sent your message.”

“Right,” Rin agreed. “Even with Sara's help, it very nearly almost did. The impostor disguised as a security officer was prepared to deal with me. The stun baton he hit me with was overcharged enough to damage the linkages in my body.”

“That's not normal,” Alisa noted.

“No, it's not, and it means that the ones behind all of this already knew that I was capable of ignoring command codes.” Rin turned away and stared out at the shell display. “That they knew before the operation even begun.”

Alisa winced and walked over to the refrigeration unit toward the rear of the crew cabin. She pulled out a bottle of fruit-flavored vitamin beverage. “Not counting Sara and Section Zero, the number of people who know your secret…”

“Is in the single digits,” Rin finished, her tone growing colder. “And all of those people are serving on or directly under Alliance High Command.”

The interior of the Corsair felt a little colder than it had a moment before. Alisa was silent for a moment as she twisted open her drink and took a sip from the bottle, the icy liquid soothing the rawness in her throat.

“Why didn't the Sirius Fleet stop us from leaving?” Alisa demanded. “They had to have known. I'm sure the ACS patrol sent a request for assistance.”

Rin glared at Sara out of the corner of her eye. The tough woman seemed to stiffen at the mention of Sirius Fleet—suspiciously so. But Sara remained silent, doing her best to avoid the AI operator's gaze.

“The supreme commander of Sirius Fleet is Admiral Nera Thomas,” Alisa continued, a pensive look on her face. “I have some history with her. When I was a kid, after Proxima Station was destroyed, I spent a few years living with her sister's family before I was adopted.” Her eyes widened as an intriguing possibility occurred to her. “Could… could Admiral Thomas have ordered the Sirius patrol wings to stand down and ignore the ACS request for assistance? Could she have known, somehow, that Rin and I were on the Luminaire?”

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. A myriad of emotions warred for supremacy on her face, but after a few moments—and Rin's continued sidelong glares—her expression settled on resignation.

“Yeah,” the fringe troubleshooter admitted. “That's exactly what happened.”

Rin's gaze narrowed further. “Explain.

“The admiral may be the supreme commander of Sirius Fleet, but she is also the director of Alliance Central Intelligence. Section Zero is her pet project.” Sara opened the stasis unit and pulled out a drink of her own—Rin recognized the unmarked glass bottle filled with clear spirits and dried chilies. “I receive missions directly from her, sometimes from Hyun-ae.”

“So you're saying that Admiral Thomas is in on the research of Alisa's abilities?” Rin queried. “Even after Mama unlocked my memory, I have no data to show Admiral Thomas was anywhere near the project.”

“I don't have access to much—you'd probably be able to find out more from Hyun-ae.” Sara popped open the bottle of fire spirits and took a long pull, her cheeks flushing as the fiery libation did its potent work. “Admiral Thomas handles the money, the authorization, the personnel. Mostly admin stuff, so it's rare when she actually shows up at a Section Zero research base. I'm not surprised you never saw her; Hyun-ae's the one who really runs the project.”

“You work for the ACI, yet you hate the Alliance,” Alisa mused. “That's interesting.”

“No, I work for Nera and Hyun-ae.” Sara's face clouded over. “Look, if the rest of the government was even half as honorable as the people in Section Zero, there wouldn't be a problem. Yeah, I get the irony, but it's the truth. The admiral, Hyun-ae, even the rank and file members—they're all good people. The best people. People I would have been proud to serve with.”

The fringe troubleshooter's words hung in the air like a challenge. Alisa was not about to take the bitter ex-marine up on it. Rin, sensing the volatile atmosphere with flawless timing, came to the rescue.

“So we've got the evidence we need. The next question is what do we do with it? If the conspirators have this much pull inside the Alliance command structure, contacting anyone in the Fleet might be difficult without alerting our unseen enemy.”

Alisa sat back in the sensor station's chair, digesting the information they had obtained and puzzled out. “We have a name now, Rin. Before we only had vague suspicions and circumstantial evidence. We now know the person who sabotaged both Lancers—or at least whose ID was used to sabotage them.”

“I think I can help with the 'what now?' question,” Sara interjected. “Naturally, I have a secure method of contacting the admiral. I can arrange for a meeting between the three of us, but it'll have to be on Sirius Colony.”

Rin shook her head adamantly. “No. That's too dangerous. We'll be walking right back into our enemy's grasp.”

“Can't be helped.” The fringe troubleshooter took another swallow of fire spirits. “The admiral can't leave the sector without a few metric tons of paperwork following her around. Not the best idea. She often has business on Sirius Colony, though, so it shouldn't take much for me to arrange a clandestine meeting.”

“Then only the two of us should go,” Rin argued. “They want Alisa, but don't have all that much interest in us. So we take her back to Mama—back to the Section Zero research base, where she'll be safe.”

“No. I'm going.”

Both Sara and Rin whirled to stare incredulously at Alisa. “But if you go back to an Alliance colony, especially Sirius—”

“I appreciate you being worried about me, love, but I don't think we have the luxury of being so cautious,” Alisa interrupted. “If we don't want to keep running for our entire lives, we're going to have to confront our enemy head-on. That means we're going to need the ability to operate in Alliance-controlled space—not just Section Zero's hidden bases.”

“I agree.” Sara shoved the cork back into her bottle of fiery alcohol and put it away. Despite having downed nearly half the bottle, the only indication that she was even the slightest bit intoxicated was a faint pink flush across her cheeks. “We need to get somewhere with a comm array—I know a system not too far from here.”

“I haven't agreed to this yet!” Rin protested.

“I'll be careful, I promise.” Alisa stood up from her seat and took Rin's hands in her own, squeezing them softly. “I know you just want to keep me safe, but we're a team. We're so much stronger together than we'll ever be on our own. We have to work together to beat this, so we can get our lives back.”

“Yeah… okay.” Rin sighed and smiled wearily. “I can't argue with that.”

11

The Corsair popped into existence, dropping out of the hyperspace tunnel a short distance from the system's local hypergate.

The star system Sara chose was utterly uninteresting, only notable at all due to the several automated helium-3 mining platforms orbiting the system's largest gas giant. A trickle of tanker traffic would flow in and out every month, collecting the fusion fuel and shipping it off to any number of civilian and military refueling stations throughout Alliance territory.

“You're sure about this,” Rin said, her voice holding a bit of hope that Alisa might have changed her mind.

“She doesn't have a choice any longer,” Sara pointed out, swiveling her chair around to face the cockpit module. “I already uploaded the message into the queue. It'll be a few hours before the comm array transmits again—this one doesn't do real-time without better overrides than I have.”

“Rin, Admiral Thomas is going to be expecting us now.” Alisa offered her partner a warm smile to deflect her worry, but was only partially successful. She could feel a small surge of happiness from the link, but Rin's expression remained doleful.

“I'm not happy about it,” she complained, “but I'll go along with it. In the meantime, you need to let me have a look at whatever the Gray pilot shoved into your mind.”

Sara blinked. “I almost forgot about that, what with everything else going on.”

“I didn't.” Alisa shuddered at the memory. “It's not something that lends itself very well to being forgotten.”

“I'd imagine not.” The fringe troubleshooter started to enter a flurry of commands into her console. “While you two deal with that, I'm going to work on the Luminaire's IFF codes and identifying emissions. We want to put on a good performance for ACS, after all.”

Alisa wasn't listening to Sara any longer. The odd mental pressure of the transmission sent by the Gray pilot was still present in her mind. “I want it out of my head. I can feel it in there; it's like a memory, but it's so strange. I can't understand it at all.”

“I can help you with that… if you trust me enough to do it.”

“Rin.” Alisa's voice was stern. “We've gone over this already. I trust you—and this isn't even remotely the same situation as last time. This isn't my memory. It's some creepy thing from the Gray. Leaving it inside my head might even be dangerous.”

“But I don't really feel right about it—I mean, all on my own. I could really do some damage if I'm not careful and I really, really, really don't want you to get hurt or maybe forget who I am or who you are or something bad like that and I'm just not sure I can do it well enough without the proper equipment in a med bay with Mama around to help me and make sure I don't make a mistake—”

“I'm asking you to do this for me,” Alisa insisted, clasping her partner's hands in her own. Their fingers entwined together and Rin's nervous expression faded away.

“I don't—I can't argue with that.”

“Thank you.”

“You might want to take that back later when you suddenly realize you don't remember how to spell your name,” Rin quipped in an unenthusiastic tone, but she sank back into the copilot's seat without further complaint. “Relax and try to keep your mind clear.”

“Okay,” Alisa replied, blowing her breath out slowly. She closed her own eyes and felt a slight change in the connection—she felt her mental defenses shutting down, letting Rin's consciousness inside.

Alisa did her best to keep her mind blank. It was easier than she had expected, likely since she was almost never alone with her own thoughts and could always feel Rin's presence through the link. She knew that most people's minds could not shut up, constantly chattering on about everything and nothing—

Whoops. She had started thinking about something. Perhaps it wasn't as easy as she thought. Alisa slowly inhaled and exhaled, focusing only on the sound and cadence of her breath.

A sudden spike of pain—more remembered and ghostly than actual—shot through her consciousness for a split second and then faded. Alisa blinked her eyes and was amazed that she could no longer feel even the slightest indication of the Gray transmission.

“Well, I did it,” Rin announced. “Is everything else okay? Are you still you?”

Alisa didn't answer with words. Instead she twisted in her seat, leaning upward to press her lips against Rin's. The hapless girl let out a squeak before her violet eyes fluttered and closed, losing herself in the kiss, the unexpected moment of intense physical and emotional contact nearly overwhelming her.

“I'm pretty sure you're still you,” Rin managed as Alisa pulled away, favoring her partner with a wide grin.

“So what's the verdict?” Sara inquired. “What weird shit did the Gray shove into your girlfriend's head?”

“It's going to take a long time to make any sort of sense out of this.” Rin threw her hands up in an exaggerated gesture of frustration. “It's some sort of encoded data, all right, and it's weird. The way it's put together is oddly similar to the way our AI operators store memories.”

Alisa arched an eyebrow. “Isn't that interesting?”

“I'm sure Mama and her people will fall all over themselves in excitement when we tell them what happened.” An impish grin formed across Rin's face. “Maybe they'll faint when I give them the transmission itself.”

“Now that we've got that out of the way,” Alisa commented, “we should be arriving in Sirius soon enough. We'll have to lay low somewhere until Admiral Thomas can meet with us.”

“I'll take care of that,” Sara assured her. “I have plenty of favors I can call in.”

Rin sighed, ignoring the fringe troubleshooter and gazing at her partner with concern. “You're really sure about this?”

“Well, what else can we do? This isn't my life. This isn't our lives. I miss the ship, the feel of the Lancer's controls. I miss the commander and that cocky grin of his when he outlines a particularly daring offensive. I want our life back. Don't you?”

“Yeah. I mean… I do, but I have mixed feelings about… things,” Rin murmured. “The situation with the Gray isn't as simple as we always thought, and I don't think we'll be able to go back so easily, even if this all gets cleared up…”

Sara snorted bitterly. “Oh, imagine that.”

“There's a lot of uncertainty, surely,” Alisa agreed, ignoring Sara's sarcastic remark. “But the Gray are still hostile, even though one tried to communicate with me directly. We don't know what's in the transmission, nor do we know why the Gray pilots were acting so strangely. It calls a lot of our assumptions into question.”

“You mentioned that before.”

“I don't know if it had to do with eavesdropping on their comms or anything, but I did notice something odd.” Alisa's lips twisted faintly. “The two gunboats we fought were definitely trying to stay hidden from the other Gray vessels in the system. As if they were expecting to be attacked by their fellows.”

Rin gave her partner a dubious look. “All our research and study suggests that the Gray are a wholly united force. Infighting has never been observed. If you're right, then something significant must've changed recently.”

“Worry about that later,” Sara told them. “We're up next for the hypergate—look sharp and try not to act too suspicious.”

“Acknowledged.” Alisa took hold of the stick and throttle, slowly moving the Corsair forward until it was on an approach vector for the local hypergate. “The gate is requesting authorization and IFF codes.”

Sara's fingers flew across the haptic holo interface as she linked up with the gate and manually sent her forged IFF credentials along with several “burner” overrides provided by Section Zero. “Codes sent and we've got a green light to go.”

“Taking us in.”

Alisa smoothly accelerated the Luminaire through the active hypergate's boundaries. The spacetime-distorting effects of the gate's warp field coupled with the Corsair's own sent the little craft hurtling through a shortcut between two very distant points in space.

The trip through hyperspace was brief and silent. Rin was uncharacteristically quiet, diverting most of her attention to examining the Gray memory node. It apparently wasn't going too well, Alisa deduced, judging by the sheer frustration seeping through the link between them.

Alisa herself simply leaned back in the pilot's seat and tried to relax, closing her eyes and feeling the tension built up in her body and mind. It had been worth it, though—they could return to Sirius Colony with relatively little chance of being discovered.

“We're dropping out into Sirius,” Rin noted.

Alisa nodded, watching the shell display power back up, the cameras capturing the images of the outskirts of the Sirius binary star system. Alisa could see the nearby hypergate through the shell display, the massive ring-shaped structure crowded with ships as a convoy of huge deep-space freighters queued up for transit. Alisa watched for a moment as the cargo vessels made their way through the gate, one by one.

“No unusual response from ACS patrols.” Rin's voice held just a hint of the anxiety she was experiencing.

“We'll be okay,” Sara assured her. “My codes are virtually identical to legit ones—it'd take them a lot of determined effort to figure out they aren't real. Trust me. I know what I'm doing.”

Rin looked unconvinced, but nodded. “Of course.”

Alisa tried not to think too much about how uncomfortable her partner was. She flew as casually as she could toward Sirius Colony, resisting the urge to dart and dodge through the traffic around the colony. A veritable armada of ships hung in the space surrounding the colony. Most of them were civilian vessels of various makes, models and sizes. Further away, outside the civilian space lanes, flew the Sirius Fleet that operated out of this sector. A vast force of Alliance fighting vessels cruised slowly through the system, a potent warning to the Gray that Sirius was not to be trifled with.

“Corsair Nova Flower, this is Sirius Traffic Control 17.” The gravelly voice was brusque and sounded impatient. “Please transmit docking clearance and destination.”

“Copy that, Control,” Sara responded. “Transmitting ID now.”

“Authorization granted, Nova Flower. You're cleared for Ring Dock 83, G Block.”

“No problem, Control. Nova Flower out.” Sara killed the comm and swiveled her chair to face Rin, offering her a tight grin. “I told you my codes are good. I do this shit for a living, remember?”

“It did work,” Rin agreed.

“We're not completely out of the woods yet,” Alisa reminded her. “G Block. That's one of the civilian zones.”

“Yeah, I figured it'd be best not to walk through a government block with a fugitive on the run from ACS and an AI operator that should be destroyed,” Sara muttered dryly. “I'll book us a room in a small hotel. We'll be meeting the admiral there.”

The disguised Luminaire streaked toward the colony, Alisa gently nudging the stick to correct their course toward the appropriate docking module. The dock's huge armored doors began to slide open, revealing several docking cradles where various other similarly-sized vessels had already been moored.

“This dock is smaller than the others.”

“It's a civilian dock,” Sara explained. “The big docks on the ring are used by the Fleet and licensed merchant guilds and shipping companies. ACS doesn't let regular civilian traffic use them.”

“How are we going to get through Customs without being detected?” Alisa asked.

Sara grinned. “Not to worry. I've got that part covered.”

All conversation ceased as Alisa set the Corsair down in the open dock, the clamps latching around the scout ship's body and securing it firmly in place. A retractable catwalk extended from the upper level and butted up against the Luminaire's boarding ramp.

Alisa stood up from her chair. “Well, here we are.”

“Yeah,” Rin agreed, her uneasiness palpable. “Here we are.”

They disembarked the Corsair with Sara coming out first. The three unlikely companions traveled on foot for quite some time, slipping through a veritable flood of other visitors and residents. Because it was a civilian dock, there wasn't much of a Fleet presence in the area—Alisa couldn't see a single uniform amidst the crush of people.

The government colonial gatekeepers seemed to be especially efficient today, Alisa thought, as the line quickly diminished until they were next up. Sara went through first, smiling at the Customs officer and speaking a few quick words that neither her nor Rin could hear.

“Go on through, ma'am,” the man said with a strangely satisfied smile. Alisa shook her head in wonder as the two of them followed Sara through the scanner without incident—despite the fact that Alisa should have been a known fugitive. The fringe troubleshooter couldn't quite keep the smugness from her face as they made their way toward the spaceport's main concourse.

“What did you do?” Alisa asked a few minutes later after they were well outside the hearing of either the ACS officers or the customs agents.

Sara's grin was wolfish. “I bribed him, of course.”

“You what?”

“Oh, come on. It's not like this sort of thing doesn't happen all the time—how else do you think smugglers even operate in Alliance space?” The fringe troubleshooter shook her head in wonderment at how naive the fighter pilot was. “I just slipped him a little something and he was more than willing to look the other way.”

Alisa's shoulders slumped. “I guess there wasn't any other choice.”

“No, not really. I could have used overrides, but that'd attract attention someone else would have to deal with later.” Sara beckoned for Alisa and Rin to follow. “Come on, the hotel isn't far. The message should be received soon enough.”

[-]

“Admiral, I'm receiving an encrypted message on the comm.”

Nera Thomas blinked, looking up from the tactical display in front of her. She had been absorbed with a strategic puzzle, one that Command had sent most of the ship captains in the fleet. It was clear that the Administrative Council wanted to push for more aggressive action against the Gray, and training had been ramped up as a result.

Pulling the Retribution out of Sirius might not be the best strategy, however, she thought. As much as Nera wished she could be back out there in the thick of things, she knew very well that she could do far more good for the Alliance by helping to mentor the next generation of Fleet officers while protecting one of humanity's largest civilian population centers, even if the Gray seemed to display no interest in Sirius at all despite its relative proximity to Sol.

The system was home to over a billion people and that population was steadily rising. Soon enough, she knew, the colony planners would have to seriously consider the construction of a sister colony. The original colony, never intended to support this many inhabitants, was rapidly reaching the limits of its ancient design.

Nera shook off her thoughts and turned to her executive officer. “Thank you, Commander. Is it an encrypted transmission?”

“It's a short message encrypted with ACI keys,” the XO said, a puzzled look on her face. Nera wondered what the big deal was—the Retribution received encrypted messages from ACI sources every day.

“What's so unusual about this message, Commander?”

“It's in some kind of code that I'm not familiar with. I'm sending it to your console now.”

Nera nodded and settled into her captain's chair, pulling up the message on her console. Her face clouded as she read the very short message. It was written in a verbal code only two other people in the universe had knowledge of.

“Is something the matter, Admiral?”

Nera had to remind herself to breathe again. She turned to glance at her XO, the younger woman staring at her curiously. The admiral knew the turmoil of emotions boiling within her likely manifested on her face.

“No, Commander. I'm fine.”

“As you say, Admiral.”

“I have some business on the colony. You have the Retribution until I return, Commander.”

Nera pulled herself out of her chair, the XO and the rest of the bridge crew saluting her and assuring her that everything would be exactly as she left it whenever she returned. The lift on A Deck Bridge took her down and toward the starboard side of the huge dreadnought, where one of the vessel's many shuttle bays were located.

The admiral strode down the corridor with perfect poise and posture. A marine guard at the entrance to the shuttle bay saluted her, standing at perfect parade-ground attention.

“Admiral.”

“I will be taking one of the shuttles to the colony,” Nera ordered in a tone that suggested she was not in the mood for conversation. “Please have one prepped for me immediately.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

[-]

Alisa sat on the edge of the bed, clad only in a fluffy towel wrapped around her upper body. Her long, bare legs dangled out over the edge of the bed. She felt calm and collected and not at all concerned despite the inherent danger of the situation. Rin, on the other hand, appeared as anxious as Alisa had ever seen her. She sat at the desk chair in the hotel room, her violet eyes locked firmly on her partner.

“You're sure this is going to work?”

“Not completely sure, no,” Alisa admitted, “but there aren't many people who know my history. If there's anyone in the upper echelons of the Alliance that I can trust, it's her.”

Rin didn't reply.

“Look, I know you're not much for trusting anyone right now, especially with all that's happened. Nera's a good person, though. She's been helping us ever since the beginning. All those commanders and superior officers who wanted to separate us and shut you down or wipe your memory—I'm sure Nera was the one who kept it all from happening.”

“Not to mention this is her project and she's got her entire career riding on the line here,” Sara pointed out from her position at the dining table. The fringe troubleshooter sipped at a bottle of dark beer and munched enthusiastically on a plate of fried potato wedges covered in melted cheese, sliced onions and bacon.

“Someone's coming to the door,” Rin interrupted. She immediately moved into position, pressing her body against the wall near the door leading into the hotel room. She gripped Sara's pistol in her hand, her violet eyes narrowed to slits.

“Would you just relax already?” Sara rolled her eyes in exasperation. “And put my gun down. We're completely safe, at least for the time being.”

“I'd rather not take chances,” Rin retorted.

Sara shrugged, unwilling to argue. “Just open the damn door.”

Rin nodded and tapped the control panel. The door slid open soundlessly on its tracks, revealing an unremarkable-looking woman with thick brown hair, cut short. The woman was clad a nondescript Alliance Fleet uniform and a single set of lieutenant's bars.

“Get inside and close the door.” Rin gestured with the muzzle of her weapon toward the interior of the rented room. Her eyes flickered slightly as she sealed the door shut and disabled the mechanism from the outside. Her pistol was still aimed at the newcomer.

“Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?”

“Rin, put the damn gun down,” Sara snapped. She turned to their visitor and held her beer bottle up in salute. “It's good to see you again, boss. Been more than a few months, hasn't it?”

The newcomer's lips twisted into a grimace. “The feeling isn't exactly mutual—at least not under these circumstances. That you arranged such a meeting at all tells me the situation is rapidly escalating.” She turned toward Alisa and gazed at the younger woman with almost maternal warmth.

“Alisa, I'm sorry all of this had to happen to you. If I'd been more vigilant, more careful, perhaps none of this would have leaked and your life would not have gone so far off track.”

“It's okay, Nera,” Alisa managed, letting out a ragged breath. “It's been… a long time. It's good to see you again.”

Nera smiled as Alisa hugged her tightly as a rush of memories—good ones and bad ones alike—came rushing back. The admiral smoothed Alisa's hair gently with her right hand, looking up at the taller woman.

“It has,” Nera agreed. “Almost sixteen years since the last time we saw each other.”

It was a long moment before anyone spoke, but Rin finally broke the emotional silence, her logical mind quickly steering the proceedings back on track. “I know you must be happy to see Alisa, but we've got some major problems and Alisa hoped you might be able to help us out somehow.”

“I'm happy to see you again, too, Rin,” Nera said. “Though I'm sure the reunion can wait a little bit. The message Loewe sent me suggested you obtained something 'useful.'”

“Again?” Rin echoed. “I've never seen you before today.”

“We never spoke or met, but I observed your mission progress over the years.” Nera shrugged. “I decided my direct involvement was unnecessary and left the project in Hyun-ae's capable hands.”

Rin didn't respond to that.

“Yeah, so, let's get down to business,” Sara cut in. “These two crazy people decided to go a system deep in Gray territory and poke around for some broken parts of spaceship. After tangling with a couple of gunboats… well, it's their problem, I'll let them talk about it.”

“Delta Four's Lancer was sabotaged before her final mission,” Alisa explained, picking up the thread of the conversation.

“I take it you have proof of this.”

“You already know they've got some proof.” The fringe troubleshooter bit into a cheese-drenched potato wedge. “But they found a lot more.”

Rin nodded. “We managed to recover Delta Four's flight recorder. Analysis of the log files gave us all the data we need to prove that our vessels were maliciously tampered with by a traitor to the Alliance.”

“This is everything—all the analysis and log data.” Alisa handed Nera a memory chip containing all the relevant data and its analysis as performed by Rin. “It should be more than enough to prove to the Alliance that Flight Officer Meyers' death was not a result of negligence on our part.”

“It was a ploy,” Rin added. “The idea was to frame Alisa for negligence and then have her disappear from custody. The Alliance would consider her nothing more than a fugitive attempting to escape justice. Some effort would have been put into tracking her down,  but they would always come up empty-handed.”

“It wouldn't be long before everyone assumed she died or took refuge in the free colonies. The Alliance would call her a traitor, make a little noise about how selfishness and such weakens humanity's fight against the Gray, but they'd give up on trying to bring her in.”

Alisa stared at Sara and frowned. “That makes sense. Snatching an active-duty officer in the Fleet would be next to impossible, but if everyone thought I was on the run…“

“Whatever. It didn't work.” Sara tipped her beer up and drained the contents of the bottle before retrieving a fresh one. “You're still a fugitive, sure, but their initial plan didn't pan out. They know they don't have you and with Jean's people either dead or in ACI custody, they don't know who does.”

Nera was silent for a long time, staring at the memory chip. If made public, there was enough information present to completely absolve Alisa Pierce of all responsibility and culpability concerning the death of Lindy Meyers. It would also inevitably send the conspirators scurrying away to disappear into the shadows.

“If we bring this evidence before the court,” Nera pointed out, “the perpetrators behind the sabotage will disappear. You'll have your names cleared, but you'll still be in danger. Our unknown enemy has already proven their patience and determination.”

“We know.” Alisa glanced at Rin. “We were hoping you might have some idea on what we can do about that.”

“There isn't much I can do, but I have a few ideas.” Nera's lips twisted in amusement as she regarded the younger woman. “Though, you might want to put some more clothes on first.”

Alisa blinked and felt her cheeks begin to warm. Rin couldn't help but giggle at the scene as Alisa practically leaped from the bed, grabbed her day satchel, and disappeared into the bathroom, the door sliding shut behind her.

[-]

Now appropriately dressed, Alisa sat down at the small dining room table. Rin sat to her right with Sara to her left. Admiral Thomas, still looking rather humble in her lieutenant's disguise, sat across from her. The bottle of beer in front of her was cold and tasted deliciously bitter, but Alisa had a hard time enjoying either the food or the drink.

Sara didn't seem to have any reservations, despite already having demolished a plate of roasted potatoes. The fringe troubleshooter dug into her spiced beef sandwich with a great deal of enthusiasm, appearing to ignore the discussion going on around her.

“I pulled the fighter bay maintenance logs,” Rin explained. “From that data plus the data we gathered from Delta Four's flight recorder and our Lancer, we were able to find a common thread linking both vessels.”

Nera's calm expression turned intrigued. “You have a name?”

“Specialist Martin Lee.” Alisa picked up where Rin left off. “His biometrics were confirmed and cleared to open diagnostic ports on both ships—after the maintenance chief signed off on them. This is the only point at which both starfighters could have been tampered with.”

Rin pointed at the memory chip held in Nera's hand. “If you take a look at the logs from Lindy's black box, it'll show that her antimatter furnace was modified to turn it into a bomb. The furnace was active during the fight and continued to increase the reaction rate while each moderator was systematically disabled.”

“This is more than enough to warrant an investigation,” the admiral said, her intrigued expression hardening into determination. “The ACI has a trustworthy agent working in IID. This data will give him a starting point.”

“He can put the pieces together?”

Nera nodded to Alisa. “If he can't do it, it can't be done.”

Rin, Alisa's voice sent through the link, I think we should tell her about the message we received—the Gray's communications attempt.

She felt a burst of subdued emotion through the link. Alisa suspected that Rin still felt guilty concerning the revelation that she erased a portion of her partner's memory in order to save her life. We went over this already. I don't blame you for what you had to do. That's in the past now—let's focus on the future.

Rin averted her eyes, dropping her gaze to her hands. Her shoulders slumped and the rhythmic expansion and contraction of her simulated breathing seemed to slow down. Alisa let the matter drop for the time being.

“Admiral, there's something else you should know. While we were searching for Delta Four's flight recorder, we were attacked by two Gray gunboats. They acted very strangely.”

“Strangely? What do you mean?”

“I'm certain the Gray pilot tried to communicate with me,” Alisa told her, glancing at Rin for support. “Before the gunboats were destroyed, something happened. There was a moment of external intrusion into my mind—”

“What?!” Nera burst out, cutting Alisa off. “Are you sure?”

“It's just as I said,” Alisa insisted. “I think the Gray tried to talk to me directly. Some sort of data was thrust into my mind. It felt like a memory, but not my own, and it was completely indecipherable. I couldn't make anything at all of it.”

“Incredible. The Gray have never made an attempt to actually communicate with us before, at least none we could detect. You still have the message they attempted to send, I take it?”

The younger woman shuddered, recalling the experience vividly. “I don't think the transmission was complete. Their vessels exploded while it was still being uploaded into my mind. I asked Rin if she could do something about it. She made a copy of the message fragment before erasing it from my memory.”

“It's encrypted, so I can't read the message, but the data is startlingly similar to the encoding format used by Alliance AI operators,” Rin added. “Given enough time I might be able to get some sort of read on it, but don't expect any useful results any time soon.”

“Make a copy of the data and give it to me. I'm sure Director Seo will be thrilled to have something concrete to work with for a change.” Nera couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice. “With greater knowledge of how the Gray communicate, we could make great strides toward finally ending this war.”

“I realize this is important, but we're still left with the question of what the three of us are to do while your agent investigates the sabotage to our Lancer.”

Alisa took a sip from her beer and picked at her sandwich. She knew she should eat, but she just didn't feel all that hungry. “We're not criminal investigators or secret agents, Rin. What else could we possibly do at this point except stay out of sight?”

The admiral turned and gazed intently at Alisa. “Actually, there is something you can do to help.”

“No. We're not going to do that,” Rin objected, her scowl deepening further. “That is not going to happen, not as long as I'm alive and functional, Admiral. It would be far too dangerous; we already know that Alisa is who they're after.”

“You want to use me as bait,” Alisa murmured as she realized where Nera was going with this. She glanced at her partner with a look that suggested interest. Rin's eyes narrowed in disapproval, but the girl said nothing.

“It's not as bad as you think,” Nera argued. “Listen, Alisa—we have enough to investigate, but we don't know just how deep this goes. It'll take my contact time to sift through the records. The conspirators may have distanced themselves from the actual saboteur to the point where an investigation may simply run into a dead end.”

Rin let out a short peal of unamused laughter. “So, we're not really any better off than we were before.”

“I didn't say that,” Nera retorted.

“This plan to use me as bait—what exactly do you have in mind?”

Rin shot a disapproving glare at Alisa. She could tell that Alisa was starting to seriously consider the plan. It was absurd and dangerous, but Rin knew what it meant when her partner's eyes hardened and that look appeared on her face. She was already thinking, already mentally preparing herself.

I haven't agreed to anything… yet, Alisa's mental voice insisted. Aloud, she said, “If we do this, we're going to have to split up.”

“No way.” Rin was adamant. “If you go, I'm going with you.”

The admiral shook her head and took a long sip from her beer. “You can't. The plan relies on your freedom and maintaining the link between you and Alisa.”

“She wants you to go with her and for me to stay here and wait to be arrested. The conspirators will divert me away from the usual processing. You're going to need the pingback on my implant in order to track me.”

“That's part of it, yes.” Nera motioned toward Rin. “Rin and Sara will go to a safe house in D Block. I'll forward the evidence we have to Captain Moran and have him start following the data. While this is going on, we'll leave an anonymous tip with the Internal Investigation Division officers handling your case.”

“Naturally, they'll come to take me into custody,” Alisa reasoned.

“Correct.”

“Won't they deactivate her neural implant?” Rin demanded. “If it's been disabled, I won't be able to communicate with her or feel what she's feeling. The whole plan will fail if Alisa and I can't maintain our connection.”

“Don't worry yourself on that account.” Sara's face split in a wide, wolfish grin. “When I repaired the damage to your lady's cyberware, I made a few special modifications. Trust me when I say that it'll take a lot to knock it out of commission.”

“Wouldn't they figure that out?”

Sara's grin went smug. “Not if the implant appears deactivated, they won't.”

“This is ridiculous.” Rin threw her hands up, exasperation twisting her features. “I can't believe the three of you are even considering something this reckless, this dangerous. If I agree to go along with this, do you have any assurances for Alisa's safety?”

“Not really.” Nera stood up and tossed her empty water bottle into the recycling bin. “I believe it's worth the risk, however. IID won't do anything to harm her, of course, so long as she surrenders peacefully.”

“So you're going to be sending in a few regiments of Special Missions marines to come rescue me, right?” Alisa asked in a joking manner.

“If only I could.” The admiral gestured toward Sara. “Rin and Sara will work with a small ACI strike team. They're some of the best in the business when it comes to clandestine operations in dangerous territory.”

“I still don't like it.”

“Rin, we don't really have much of a choice. This is the best chance we have to catch these people and get our life back.”

“There should be better ways to solve this problem,” Rin objected. “There have to be. I don't like this, Alisa. I'd rather… I'd rather never fly again if it meant keeping you safe.” Violet eyes glimmered with moisture as Rin reached out to take hold of her partner's hands. Their fingers entwined together, they gazed at each other for a long moment without speaking further.

Reluctantly, Alisa broke the silence. “I'm not going to run any longer, Rin. We're not going to run any longer. If we can hit them where it hurts by letting me get taken into custody, to be the bait and draw our hidden enemies out of the shadows, then we should do it without hesitation.”

12

Alisa sat alone in the reading chair next to a small lamp, her hands clasped in her lap, calmly reading a local news report. It had been almost a day since Sara called in the anonymous tip. The delay was expected—the IID had been quietly monitoring her for the past twelve hours.

They're in no particular hurry, she thought as she read. The waiting was hard, but it was unavoidable. The IID agents would not rush headlong into this—they would make sure conditions were ideal before they attempted to make an arrest. Rin had run the numbers earlier that day, predicting that the raid would take place shortly after the colony's night cycle. Alisa had little reason to doubt her, so she waited.

She didn't have to wait much longer. There was a loud thump from somewhere beyond the hotel room door. The interior lights suddenly cut out in the room and the door was forced open with a shower of sparks.

A pair of armed men rushed into the room, weapons drawn. She couldn't make out their faces in the darkness, but she could easily see the guns pointing at her.

“Alliance Security! Don't move!”

“Okay, okay.” Alisa held her hands up to show she wasn't armed. “I'm unarmed.”

The two men glanced at each other and then back at Alisa. The lights mounted on their weapons shined on her face, causing her eyes to squint from the bright light in the dark room. She blinked a few times, her eyes watering, trying to avoid staring directly into the brilliant glow.

“Do as I say, ma'am, and this'll go smoothly..” The IID man gestured with his heavy pistol, flicking the muzzle up slightly. “Stand up, turn around and place your hands on your head.”

Alisa did as she was instructed. The IID man began to pat her down quickly. She winced slightly as she felt the man's hands press hard on and between her legs and arms, searching for weapons or combat cyberware. The hand moved up, into her jacket pocket and came out empty.

“She's clean,” the lead agent remarked as he turned to his partner. “Cuff her and let's get moving.”

“Alisa Pierce, Lieutenant-Commander, Alliance Fleet Advanced Starfighter Corps, you are hereby placed under arrest for dereliction of duty, desertion, theft of Alliance property, obstructing the execution of justice and gross negligence in the line of duty which resulted in the death of Lindy Meyers, Flight Officer, First-Grade.”

Doing her best to stay calm and collected, Alisa said nothing as the second agent grabbed her arms and smoothly pulled them down, fastening the stun cuffs around her wrists securely. The agent connected the tether from his remote into the cuffs and placed the small device in an open pouch on his belt.

“All right,” the first agent said after a moment. “Come on, let's get going.”

Alisa shrugged and allowed the two cops to lead her out of the hotel toward a waiting transport, a small inter-colony transport marked with the colors and insignia of the Alliance Colony Security force.

Their earlier predictions had been accurate. The Internal Investigation agents would take her to be held at the ACS detention facility. It made sense when she thought about it; Sirius Colony was a civilian colony and lacked a significant military presence. The Sirius Fleet operation was headquartered on Nera's flagship, the Retribution. It would be vastly easier for the conspirators to divert her from ACS custody than a military detention facility.

Alisa ducked her head as she stepped into the transport. She was a bit surprised that the IID agents were treating her in such a fair and even-handed manner. Running away from punishment was considered by many in the Alliance to be a form of treason and cowardice, but these two were cool and professional.

The ACS transport lifted off. Within the interior of the Sirius ring, only government and law enforcement vehicles were cleared for air travel. Civilian traffic was confined to the surface streets. The ride itself was quiet; neither of the IID agents seemed inclined toward conversing with her. Her arresting officer kept a steady gaze on her, the remote for her stun cuffs in his right hand, but Alisa could detect no hostility in his eyes.

Only perhaps fifteen minutes later, the transport jolted slightly as it touched down on the ACS detention facility's landing pad. The boarding hatch swung open and the lead agent stepped out onto the pad.

“Get out of the car, ma'am.”

Alisa did as she was told without any resistance at all. The professionalism with which the agents treated her was a surprise, but she resolved not to let her guard down no matter how nice they were to her. She had no idea where or when their unseen enemy would take over.

She focused her mind on Rin. Her partner was somewhere on the ring colony, not terribly far away. How do things look on your end?

We're fine here. Sara and I are at a safe house in D Block. We're supposed to meet up with the Shadow Unit people soon.

Alisa smiled. Sounds interesting.

It's certainly an experience, that's for sure.

How long do you think it'll be before the enemy makes their move?

There was a pause and an unspecified commotion that she felt more than heard through the neural link. The delay is likely making them desperate and impatient. You probably won't even be there for a day before things that shouldn't happen, start happening.

Watch over me, love.

Of course. Rin's mental voice was filled with warmth. The connection faded, reducing back down to a small amount of emotional bleed-through emanating from the link. Alisa allowed herself to be led through the doors leading into the station's intake area where prisoners were processed into the system.

The IID agent disconnected the lead from the stun cuffs and motioned for Alisa to sit down into a cheap molded plastic chair next to the intake desk. He walked up to the intake and leaned on the edge of the counter.

“Agent Baldwin, IID. We called you earlier about holding our prisoner until we can arrange transport to an Alliance military detention facility.”

“Right, I remember,” the desk sergeant recalled, nodding. “Fill out the required forms on the terminal and we'll take her into lockup.”

“There should be a waiver on those forms coming up from my supervisor,” Baldwin said, shaking his head. “She's not going to be here long enough to need a full intake. Just keep her in a holding cell until we can get a transfer approved.”

The desk sergeant seemed unconvinced. “You know we have to do intakes for everyone. I don't know if I can just put her in a cell without authorization.”

“Look, Sergeant, we'll be coming back to pick her up later this evening,” Baldwin told him, glaring at the desk sergeant. “If you put her through intake and full processing, we'll have to stop the process partway through.”

“Fine. This better not come back and bite me in the ass, though.”

Baldwin gave the desk man a brilliant smile. “It won't, trust me, Sergeant. I promise we'll be out of your way soon enough. Just babysit her for the next twelve hours in one of the holding cells.”

Alisa was silent as she listened to the exchange between the IID agent and the ACS desk sergeant. This wasn't standard procedure at all. She was quickly becoming suspicious that her two arresting agents were moonlighting for the conspiracy.

That Internal Investigation agents were involved—whether they were genuine or especially good fakes—hinted that the mastermind behind the conspiracy was not only a powerful and high-ranking member of the Alliance government, but likely a hardcore patriot as well. Someone who believed unfailingly that they were acting in the best interests of humanity even while they attempted to imprison her against her will.

That makes sense, Alisa thought as she closed her eyes. The conspirators were aware that Rin was capable of ignoring control codes, that she would stand against anyone for Alisa's sake. Their first agent came well-prepared to deal with her. Such information was so closely-guarded that the person behind the conspiracy couldn't have been anyone except one of Admiral Thomas' peers.

Alisa's thoughts were interrupted by an ACS officer calling her name, a young woman with short strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes. The female officer stopped next to the chair where Alisa sat, her hands still bound by the plastic stun cuffs.

“Stand up and turn around, ma'am, and I'll get those cuffs off you,” the ACS officer instructed. She couldn't possibly have been any older than Alisa herself. She turned around and the officer sliced through the disposable stun cuffs with a high-frequency utility blade, leaving Alisa's wrists free once again.

“Thanks.” Alisa took advantage of her free hands and massaged her sore wrists with gentle rubs. The IID agents hadn't fastened the cuffs any tighter than necessary, but they weren't exactly intended to be comfortable.

“I need to escort you to a cell now.” The young woman's voice was sympathetic. “You need to walk in front of me and keep your hands held up where I can see them.”

“All right.” The ACS officer placed a hand on her shoulder and led her through the corridors, past the detention blocks where the civilian general population was kept until they could be transferred to a proper isolation facility.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Alisa inquired.

“This is how I do my job. You've been nothing but cooperative; there's no reason at all for me to be hostile toward you.”

Alisa turned her head and arched an eyebrow at the girl. “So you're saying if I wasn't cooperative, you wouldn't be so nice?”

“That's right. I may not look very intimidating, but I've completed the same combat training as every other ACS officer. Most of the time, politeness and treating people well goes a long way toward maintaining order in the detention block.”

“I'm sure most of the inmates aren't very polite.”

“Not always, no,” the girl agreed, “but I'm a lot tougher than I look.”

Alisa shot her escort—a small woman who likely only outweighed the pixie-like Lindy by a handful of kilograms—a wry grin. “I don't doubt it. You look pretty tough to me.”

The officer rolled her eyes and almost smiled. “Here we are, ma'am—just step into the cell and keep away from the doorway. It'll hurt a little if you come in contact with it.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

The officer tapped a sequence into the panel near the cell door, causing a flickering red curtain barrier to materialize across the empty door frame. Alisa knew if she touched the barrier it wouldn't really injure her, but it would probably sting.

She sat down on the bench in the cell, idly watching as the ACS officer turned around and walked back toward the intake area. Moments later, Alisa was left alone with her own thoughts. She leaned back against the cell's wall, staring up at the featureless ceiling. The interior of the ACS detention block was remarkably quiet. There wasn't much she could do but wait, so Alisa adjusted herself into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes.

[-]

“She’s asleep.”

Sara snorted. “Your girlfriend's acting pretty cool, considering the circumstances.” The mercenary turned away, her eyes focused on the data scrolling across the console.

At Rin's suggestion, Alisa widened the link enough to allow her partner direct access to her surface thoughts and senses. Such an arrangement was exhausting for both of them, but it allowed Rin to tap into Alisa's senses to a degree.

Maintaining the high-bandwidth sensory input stream was difficult. Rin's processors were also occupied by a third major task—taking the biological sensory data and transcribing it into something other computers could understand. A terminal nearby logged the data and displayed it as plain text.

“Whoa, whoa, hey now.” Sara stared at the lines scrolling across the holo. “Is that guy serious? They threw her in a cell without doing an intake?”

“That's what the IID agent said, yes,” Rin confirmed. “I can't think of too many other reasons why he'd be in such a hurry… and why he would want to keep Alisa out of the local records as much as possible.”

“I guess that means we should get ready and join up with the special-ops folks.” Sara yawned hugely and stretched her arms over her head. “Would be nice to get some sleep in a real bed for a change.”

“Are you sure they're not going to be able to deactivate her implant?”

“Look, Rin, I already told you already.” The fringe troubleshooter rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. “If they use a cyberware scrambler to try and deactivate it, it'll appear inactive but still give us her location through the pingback.”

“But I won't be able to hear her, will I?”

“What you two managed to do with the pair-linking system goes far beyond the original design intent of these things.” Sara picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of grilled chicken before popping it in her mouth. “It can't look inactive and still send a lot of data. They may not be able to eavesdrop on the signal itself, but it can't hide that sort of activity.”

Rin said nothing, but her expression was clearly unhappy.

“Look, it's going to be fine,” Sara reassured her. “We've got a lot of skilled fighters on our side. What do you think they've got? Fringe scum at best, the only kind of people who work for money with no questions asked. We're not going to be going up against any hardcore Alliance troopers. There's no way they can involve that many Alliance personnel in something like this.”

“I… guess you're right.” Rin's frown didn't go away, however. “I'm just worried about Alisa.”

“I know.” Sara sighed and her expression softened. “Come on, let's go meet up with our allies.”

Rin pulled herself away from the table and followed Sara through the small safe house. It was literally a house—a single-family dwelling within one of D Block's largest residential districts. The ACI used this particular house due to the fact it sat directly atop a maintenance access conduit, making it possible for agents to move throughout the colony without being seen.

It was from this tunnel that the ACI assault team would arrive. Sara stopped at the end of the hallway, pressing her fingers against a featureless spot on an unremarkable wall. There was a soft chime as the hidden panel accepted her biometrics and unlocked a hidden door.

Sara extended a hand toward the opening. “After you.”

The interior of the secret room was dimly lit by yellow emergency lighting, but was otherwise sparse and devoid of any interesting detail. Two empty worktables were mounted to the far wall, flanking a much heavier security door that appeared to lead into a descending staircase.

Hissing with released gas, the security door slid open and four figures strode into the room. All were clad from head to foot in a dark charcoal lightweight hardsuit, similar to the type used by the Advanced Starfighter Corps. Their helmets were of a different design, with retractable visors and multiple augmented reality displays. They were clearly intended for use primarily in ground combat, but capable of protecting the wearer in a vacuum.

Each of the black-clad warriors proved to be well-armed, equipped with a short-barreled linear accelerator carbine, a combination weapon that merged the accurate mid- to long-range carbine with a magnetic ram shotgun slung underneath. In addition to their primary weapon, each carried a dedicated neural disruptor mounted to the wrist of their non-dominant hand.

Rin's eyes widened slightly as one of the figures doffed their helmet and gave Sara one of the biggest grins she'd ever seen. The olive-skinned fighter's perfect white smile practically glowed with its own inner light.

“Sara! Never thought I'd see your beautiful face again!”

Sara cackled. “And I never thought I'd see your ugly mug again—at least not still attached to your body, anyway. How have you been, Faris?”

“As you can plainly see, I've moved up in the world. Shadow Unit's my new home; doing sneaky-work and such for the ACI is certainly a lot more lucrative than assassinating Jean's competitors.”

Sara's smile shrank fractionally. “A lot more dangerous, too.”

“It's actually not,” Faris replied. “Back in the Red Claw, we were all constantly on edge wondering whether we'd end up executed or ordered into Jean's bed.”

“Those aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.” Sara snorted derisively. “If you're working for ACI, though… aren't you being deployed in Gray-controlled systems?”

“Usually. Conventional intelligence methods aren't the best against the Gray, but we get sent to places they take from us all the time since they always try to reuse our gear if they can. We also do a lot of work in the free colonies—mostly human trafficking ops.”

“I'm sure you've heard about Jean.” Sara's tone was indulgent as her smile returned in full and with interest. The ACI agent's dark eyes danced beneath meticulously-groomed black eyebrows.

“I couldn't stop laughing as soon as they told me.” Faris turned their gaze over to Rin and offered a polite smile. “I take it this is the Rin we've heard so much about?”

“Yeah. Rin, this is my favorite drinking buddy, Faris. We used to be an item, once upon a time, when we were in the service together.”

“Don't you think that's overstating things a bit?” Faris remarked, suppressing a fit of laughter. They turned their attention back to Rin, that same infectious smile still present. “She really means to say that we used to fuck whenever we were bored or lonely.”

Rin arched a dark eyebrow and glanced at Sara before breaking into a fit of giggles. The tough old mercenary was actually blushing!

“Shut up, Faris. Just shut the fuck up.”

Faris only laughed harder, but managed to compose themself after a moment. “Oh, ah, excuse me. We don't have a lot of time to be chatting it up here in the safe house. Things are about to get busy.”

“Do all of you know what we're doing?” Rin inquired.

“Yeah. Admiral Thomas already briefed us. Didn't she tell you? Shadow is the elite—we're the best of the best, the top of the ACI food chain. Quite similar to the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing in that regard.” Faris sent a meaningful gaze at Rin, silently letting her know that they were very well-informed indeed. “We know that the little one here has a locator pingback on the target. Once you determine she's been diverted from ACS custody, we'll work together.”

Rin nodded solemnly. “Mission objectives?”

“We're split. Our primary objective will be to keep the enemy occupied while you and Loewe here take advantage of the chaos and get Pierce out. We're going for non-lethal takedowns—ACI can't interrogate corpses, after all.” The fighter stared at Sara pointedly. “That means don't kill anyone unless you can't avoid it.”

“I know what I have to do,” the fringe troubleshooter growled.

“Good, then we all know what we have to do. Now, let's see about getting you armed, Rin.” Faris reached into their gear pack and drew out a holstered light linear pistol equipped with a strange sort of attachment Rin had never seen before. “This one's optimized for stealth—acoustic dampers on the accelerator rails and the second barrel fires knockout darts.”

Rin accepted the weapon and wrapped the gun belt around her waist, fastening the clasp securely. “Capacity?”

“Sixty 4mm impactors, sheathed fragmenting type. Ten darts with enough sleep agent to send an angry marine to dreamland for a few hours. I doubt I need to tell you to shoot straight—you can probably nail your targets better than any human to ever hold a gun.”

“That's true enough,” Rin agreed. “Are we using the work tunnels?”

“We are; you aren't.” Faris gestured upward. “We procured an inter-colony skycar so you can get around quickly. You'll come in from the top; Loewe and my people will come at the place from below and get as close as we can under cover. We'll meet up outside the target location once you identify it and infiltrate jointly. Any questions?”

Rin shook her head slowly.

“No. Let's do it.”

[-]

Alisa's eyes snapped open. The cell didn't look any different, but there was certainly something about to happen. She had been asleep for several hours at the very least. The probably-crooked IID agents would likely return soon.

She sighed and stared at the shimmering red barrier. Now that Alisa knew the reason behind it all, she didn't feel better in the slightest. Knowledge may have brought understanding, but it also brought doubt. What she had always considered her natural piloting skills may have simply been a logical extension of an accident of biology.

It didn't sit well with her at all.

Footsteps echoed from down the corridor of the cell block; someone was coming. Multiple someones, if the frequency of the footfalls wasn't being amplified by echo and resonance. Alisa sat up straight, brushing red curls from her face and letting her contemplative expression fade into one of stoic indifference.

As she had expected, the newcomers were the two Internal Investigation agents from before, the one named Baldwin and his partner. Baldwin walked up toward the cell control panel and entered a long code sequence. The red-glowing barrier plane vanished. Baldwin's partner drew a pistol from a hidden holster and kept the weapon trained on Alisa.

“You're being transferred to a Fleet facility,” Baldwin informed her. “Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

Alisa did as she was told without comment. Baldwin quickly and efficiently restrained her hands with a fresh pair of stun cuffs. She remained still while he connected the lead to the remote handle. The man beckoned for her to stand and she did so without resistance. The IID agents had been civil and polite thus far; Alisa saw no reason to invite their wrath.

Baldwin handed the stun cuff remote to his partner. “Follow us, ma'am.”

I'm being moved, Alisa sent through the link. She suppressed a smile as she felt a burst of concern and worry emanate from Rin's mind, their thoughts connected by a tiny cluster of entangled particles.

I know. The infiltration team is ready. They'll probably try to deactivate your implant soon—we won't be able to talk to each other for a little while, but the locator signal will stay active. We'll be right behind you.

You're coming with them?

There was no response. Despite her circumstances, Alisa did smile at her partner's conspicuous silence. How'd you manage to convince them to let you come?

I didn't. Admiral Thomas insisted that I join the mission, Rin explained.

Oh?

Alisa felt Rin's amusement through their connection, the emotion rippling through her mind as if the girl was standing beside her laughing. Don't concern yourself too much, love. Just concentrate on staying alive. We'll handle the rest.

The link became quiet. Alisa felt her heart grow a bit lighter just knowing that Rin was watching over her. Everything was going according to plan, taking full advantage of the traitors' desperate desire to obtain Alisa at any cost.

“Get in the transport.”

Alisa nodded to Baldwin and ducked her head, stepping inside the vehicle. Neither skycar nor true shuttle, the inter-colony transports could take to the stars outside the colony, but were not designed for deep space. The Alliance used them inside the ring section in order to quickly move personnel to various parts of the vast settlement.

The boarding hatch on the inter-colony transport sealed shut behind her. Alisa took her seat on one of the padded benches lining the interior walls. The two IID agents followed her in and took their seats as well. Baldwin's partner kept his pistol drawn but did not aim the weapon at Alisa, his finger resting lightly against the trigger guard.

The transport lifted into the air only seconds after the boarding hatch swung shut. Alisa could still feel Rin's reassuring mental presence, as strong as ever.

[-]

Rin sat in the operator's saddle of the single-seat skycar Faris obtained for her part in the mission. While civilian air traffic was strictly forbidden inside the colony, government agencies had varying levels of access. The skycar Rin flew was an inspection vehicle used by Sirius Colony's maintenance personnel.

It made for pretty perfect cover, Rin thought as she manipulated the control stick. The flight controls were reasonably similar to that of an Alliance starfighter, complete with adjustable stick and throttle assemblies. It had a fairly low maximum speed, necessary considering the little craft didn't have space for a powerful drive system, but its maneuverability was impressive.

Rin piloted her borrowed vehicle very conservatively, trying her best to look like nothing more than a colonial inspector on her daily rounds of the ring's interior superstructure. The almost complete lack of traffic made tracking Alisa much, much easier than it would have been on a terrestrial colony with more open airspace.

“Shadow Lead, this is Shadow Null,” Rin said into the comm, contacting Faris directly. “Target is headed away on the ACS sky lane.”

“Which direction?”

“Counter rotation,” Rin replied. “They're headed toward the Fleet spaceport near dock module 2A.”

“Target is headed off Sirius?”

“Possibly.”

“There's no way we can cast a net over the entire spaceport and dock, not to mention the utility layer,” Faris replied, but no worry or frustration colored their voice. “We'll have to narrow down where they might be going. Leave it to me.”

“Understood, Lead.”

The comm channel went quiet and Rin focused her mind on the link between Alisa and herself. The link set up between Alisa and Rin was maintained via the FTL transceiver's entangled particles. Distance and position in space was meaningless and inapplicable for a system such as this, but the system had a pingback function that allowed Rin to determine her partner's location.

Rin accelerated and swooped down along the ring superstructure as she tailed the Fleet transport through the ACS skylane. The target transport increased altitude and Rin mirrored the move. Just as she had predicted, the Fleet transport turned off onto a secondary designated lane headed for the spaceport where the Alliance Fleet maintained one of the sixteen “A” docks meant for destroyer-class capital ships. Rin followed, her inspection car allowing her to seamlessly blend in with the other maintenance vehicles. The trip wouldn't take much longer at all.

“Shadow Lead, this is Null. The target is headed through Access 7 Anti-clockwise. Do we have people in the spaceport?”

“Affirmative, Null. They're already checking out the transport decks.”

Rin smiled and slowly pushed her inspection car to move ahead of a few slower supply vehicles. “Continue as planned. Out.”

The flow of traffic began to slow as the vehicles approached the spaceport attached to docking module 2A. The transport pulled out of traffic and started to descend near the Fleet supply dump, a tightly-packed collection of warehouses adjacent to the spaceport proper.

Rin pulled her vehicle toward a transport deck near the spaceport, dropping low to the ground on the hardened landing pad. She felt the vehicle jolt slightly as she decreased power to the repulsion panels, allowing it to gently and slowly hover above the ground.

The transport deck was packed with skycars and transports, most of them unloading either equipment or personnel, but Rin was still receiving the pingback signal, but she wasn't getting a precise fix. Something was interfering with the positioning system—perhaps it was having trouble resolving her location.

“Shadow, are you in position?”

“We're topside—target has been re-acquired and locked in. Transport just landed in the Fleet supply dump's loading area. Targets are headed for a deep-storage facility. Transmitting precise location now.”

“I'm on my way.”

Rin popped the hatch on her transport and stepping out. Her booted feet hit the concrete ground lightly and she dashed to the edge of the transport deck. Rin's synthetic muscles propelled her with a speed only the fleetest human sprinters could match. She would be able to continue at this pace for hours in standard gravity without any ill effects.

The transport deck connected to a veritable web of tunnels that would carry personnel to various destinations on both the surface and utility layer. Rin knew where she was going; she had already obtained a map of the entire colony before the mission. A moment later, she emerged from a short pedestrian tunnel and onto an open-air walkway that gave her a clear view of the supply dump below.

It was a natural fit for a clandestine staging area. Deep-storage sections in the utility layer were rarely visited by Alliance personnel by their very nature. Archives, records and other sundry items that were not frequently needed were kept within these vaults. With the proper authority, it would be easy enough to maintain a hidden outpost without anyone noticing for a very long time.

Fortunately for her partner, Rin was not just anyone. She leaped over the walkway's safety railing and dropped ten meters straight down. Her body went limp and her legs compressed as she hit the ground, easily absorbing the force of an impact that would have shattered human bone.

Quickly she darted forward, ducking behind one of the single-story above-ground warehouses. Alisa's pingback signal indicated that she was more than ten meters below Rin's current location. She peered out from behind cover, trying to locate the entry hatch leading into the deep-storage section beneath the more frequently used warehouses.

There should have been more guards and security automatons patrolling the supply dump, but Rin couldn't spot them. The Fleet inter-colony transport had landed near the warehouse's loading area, no more than twenty meters away. Using the vehicle itself as cover, Rin edged around the vacant transport, relying on her hearing to locate the sentries before they realized their perimeter had been breached.

Footsteps. Rin could see a pair of large booted feet between the landing skids of the inter-colony transport. Alisa and the two IID agents had no doubt already descended into the facility. She had to act fast and contact the other members of the shadow team. If everything had gone according to plan, three of them would already be inside.

Despite being armed, she left her pistol holstered. Rin knew she could disable the guard without weapons and without making noise.

He didn't even see her coming. Rin took him from behind, her denser-than-normal body slamming into him as her knee came forward and struck the guard, knocking him from his feet. Her arm snaked around his neck and clamped down hard.

The mercenary sentry started to struggle violently—Rin could tell from the counter-pressure that he was a strong, fit individual well-trained to defend himself. Fortunately, Rin was heavier and far stronger than a human with her frame had any right to be. Her grip would be unbreakable by all but the strongest augmented warriors. Holding on tightly, Rin levered his body against her hip so that he wouldn't be able to lock his knees and try to shake her off.

Slowly the struggles began to taper off as Rin's hold starved the guard's brain for oxygen. The body went limp, seemingly unconscious. Rin held on for a moment longer, just to ensure the sentry was truly down for the count and wasn't just trying to fake her out. A quick search yielded the man's passkey, her easy route into the facility itself. She also took the opportunity to relieve him of his assault rifle and ammo belt, slinging the weapon over her shoulder. Better to take it than leave it where he could use it when he woke.

“Null here. I've penetrated the defenses from above,” Rin hissed into the comm channel. “Have you entered the facility yet?”

“Affirmative.” Faris's lyrical voice sounded cool and casual, as if they were ordering a drink at the local public house. “Myself, Three and Four have access to the sub-level. Two is playing dress-up outside and keeping a watch on our six. Won't fool them for long, though.”

Rin smiled tightly. The ACI team was definitely skilled. She was thankful, not for the first time, that they were on the same side. Turning toward the warehouse on the opposite side of the transport, Rin spotted the entry hatch that would take her into deep storage.

A sense of cold emptiness spread through Rin's mind. The neural link was silent—too silent. Her connection hadn't been broken, of course; short of destroying Alisa's implant entirely, there was no way to sever the link between the entangled particles. Rin could still feel the connection, but she could detect nothing but a neutral active signal—

And the critically important pingback. Sara's modifications were working.

“Target's implant has been deactivated, but location reporting is still active. Null is heading inside the facility.” Rin's voice took on a faint hint of urgency. “Catch up with me as soon as you can.”

“Copy that, Null. You should have backup soon.”

13

The IID agent was expressionless as he walked behind Alisa and pulled her hair up, pressing a cold metal object against the back of her neck. There was a sharp crackling sound and Alisa felt a mercifully-brief flash of intense pain followed by a dull, cold ache that seemed to spread throughout her body.

Baldwin released his grip on her hair and slipped the cyberware scrambler in one of the pouches studding his gun belt. He turned his gaze on Alisa and looked her over critically to make sure the scrambler pulse hadn't caused any harmful side-effects.

“Ma'am, do you feel any pain or dizziness? Any sudden loss of hearing or vision?”

Alisa shook her head and shivered. “Just cold.”

“That's normal. Come this way.” Baldwin and his partner led her through a wide storage area, only sparsely stacked with crates containing various materials and components used by a wide variety of Alliance starships. Alisa's eyes scanned over everything, carefully committing the location of each corridor, each packing crate and tool container to memory. If she somehow managed to escape, she would need to know how to get back outside.

“Come on, let's go,” Baldwin urged. His partner tugged lightly on the tether attached to her stun cuffs. Alisa hadn't realized she'd stopped. The emptiness gnawing away at her grew colder and more desolate as time went on. She knew the scrambler's effects were temporary. The devices were designed to quickly and effectively disable cybernetic augmentations without harming their owners.

Losing her connection to Rin left her feeling terribly vulnerable and alone, even though the implant should still be broadcasting her location and vitals. Alisa resolutely set her shoulders and walked on, keeping pace with her captors. Rin and the shadow team would be right behind her.

Baldwin and his partner led Alisa onto a freight lift that would take them deeper into the storage unit. The place was unguarded, relying on locked doors and surveillance systems to keep any unauthorized persons out. Considering the low value of the sort of things the Alliance stored here, it wasn't terribly surprising.

The lack of security made the deep-storage area an ideal location for a clandestine staging area. It was secure and private and very close to the Fleet spaceport and shuttle bays, providing the traitors with an easy route out of the colony if something went wrong.

The trio stopped at a small, unlabeled door. Alisa recognized that it wasn't a storage container itself, but an old records office, likely considered unused by the rest of the Alliance. This, then, would be where she would be kept until the mastermind could complete the remaining stages of his plan.

“Open the door,” Baldwin said to his partner. The other man complied, lowering his weapon and tapping an authorization code into the door panel.

The door opened and Alisa was pushed through none-too-gently. She stumbled but managed to keep her feet, suppressing a flash of irritation and instead studying her new surroundings.

The room was no longer an office. It had been extensively modified and enlarged, encroaching on the adjacent offices until the interior size was closer to that of a small factory floor. Sections of the room had been cordoned off with low metal walls, separating the large room off into divisions labeled in red-lettered placards hanging from the high ceiling.

The shady IID agents led Alisa through the facility in silence. Researchers and scientists in white lab coats leaned over consoles and instruments, ignoring the jailers and their prisoner. Sentries were posted at key locations, their hardsuits unmarked with identifying crests and obviously well-worn. Alisa was taken aback by the number of guards. There must have been at least two full squadrons of mercenaries hired to defend this place.

Baldwin rounded a corner and led Alisa around into a small niche set off from the rest of the lab floor. The small alcove ahead was almost empty. A single cell was set into one wall, the red barrier plane active despite the fact that there was nobody inside. A tall man, dressed in a well-tailored and obviously expensive suit, stood facing the cell.

Alisa blinked, staring at the man in wordless astonishment, certain she was seeing things. Though he wore civilian clothing, she recognized the man instantly. His face was a face well-known to anyone who had ever served in the Fleet in the past fifty years. He was tall and imposing, with a dignified air and crystal-blue eyes, an extreme rarity among humans of the Alliance.

Those eyes were not very beautiful now, Alisa noticed. In fact, those eyes were glaring at her with a great deal of contempt.

“You have caused me considerable inconvenience, Pierce,” Admiral Wolff snarled, his voice filled with barely-contained anger.

“I don't believe it,” Alisa murmured, her voice barely audible. Wolff was one of the most senior members of Alliance High Command and one of the flag officers responsible for much of humanity's war against the Gray. That someone as august and celebrated as Admiral Wolff would turn traitor… Alisa could scarcely believe her eyes.

Baldwin saluted the Admiral and clicked his heels together. “Her implant has been deactivated, Admiral.”

“Excellent work, Baldwin. I take it you had no trouble?”

Baldwin nodded and saluted sharply. “Thank you, Admiral. No, we had no trouble apprehending Pierce. I am ashamed to admit, however, we weren't able to locate the missing AI operator. Our other operatives are currently searching the colony with orders to disable or destroy it on sight.”

“That's quite all right.” Wolff waved a hand dismissively. “We already know what our own AI technology is capable of. It is of little importance now that the true prize is in my possession.”

“Should we really leave an unrestricted AI alone? It could become very dangerous; this particular unit harbors incredible loyalty to its counterpart.”

Wolff scoffed. “Of course not, but all in due time. Our agents will no doubt locate it and eliminate it before it can become a threat. Now leave us.”

“Admiral, are you certain—”

“That's enough.” The traitorous flag officer's scowl deepened. “I have little to fear from an unarmed and shackled prisoner. Leave us, now.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Baldwin turned without further conversation and stalked off, his partner following close behind. The two IID agents rounded the corner and disappeared into the facility, leaving Alisa alone in the enclosed alcove with Admiral Wolff.

“I take it you were the one who had our ships sabotaged,” Alisa managed, forcing herself to speak after the silence had grown long and sinister.

“Correct.” Wolff's tone was icy. “With your reputation, you were frustratingly untouchable. The Fleet's darling ace pilot and the Miracle Girl, only survivor of the Razing of Proxima. Just perfectly fit for a pretty little recruiting poster, an inspiration to all Alliance citizens. I needed to knock you from that pedestal Nera Thomas had placed you upon.”

Alisa ignored his attempts to needle her. “Why did you have to kill Lindy?”

“Several reasons.” Wolff shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “To create a case against you, for starters. If you had simply failed to kill your targets, you would have been given a reprimand at worst. The resulting scandal, along with a few carefully-whispered words in the shadows, ensured that Meyers would demand justice from the Administrative Council and you would be painted in the worst light possible.”

“You wanted me dishonorably discharged and imprisoned,” Alisa reasoned.

“Not only that, but thoroughly demoralized. We knew you cared for Lindy Meyers; the two of you were well-known to be close. I never expected it to work quite so well, however—it was almost too good to be true when we learned you had fallen into some sort of deep depression.”

Alisa's face was expressionless. “Except it didn't work.”

“Had the plan not been sent into disarray,” Wolff snapped, glaring at her, “you would have disappeared from the medical center. The Alliance would have named you a fugitive and searched, only to find nothing. They would assume you escaped into the fringe and eventually forgotten about you.”

Alisa said nothing.

“Except you would have been brought here, or perhaps another location similar to this one, where you would be given the chance to be a part of something glorious. To make an even greater contribution to the war against the Gray.”

“To be cut up like a science experiment, you mean,” Alisa growled.

“You've always been a research sample.” Wolff let out a mocking chuckle. “However, Section Zero's approach was too timid and impractical. Admiral Thomas's pet project would have taken far too long to produce real, tangible results. I only did was what had to be done for the good of humanity.” A compact linear accelerator weapon appeared in his left hand. “And now, so will you. Move into the cell, Pierce.”

“I know an empty threat when I see one.” Alisa glared at him and rolled her eyes. “You've turned the entire universe upside down to obtain me. I already know you won't kill me.”

“I don't need to kill you,” Wolff scoffed. “Within your brain is the key to our ultimate victory over the Gray. Your awareness and consciousness, however, is not required. Do as you are told, Pierce, or I will ensure you cannot resist.”

There wasn't much she could do at this point. Her shoulders slumped slightly and she nodded. Wolff gestured sharply with his weapon and ushered Alisa toward the cell door. A quick command brought the barrier plane down.

“Inside,” the admiral barked.

Alisa shrugged helplessly and was half-shoved inside the cell. The expected sheer pane of constrained energy shimmered into being, blocking her off from the outside universe.

“You have always been a great asset to the Alliance.” Wolff's voice softened just slightly. “You should be pleased—through our work, you will advance humanity's might beyond your wildest dreams. Your impending contribution to the Alliance will be a paradigm shift, inevitably leading to victory and our long-awaited homecoming.”

“Let me guess—and after all of that, you will be exalted as the man who ended the war and brought forth an age of peace and prosperity,” Alisa muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm. “You aren't going to get away with this.”

“Charmingly droll, but inaccurate.” Wolff's expression was positively smug. “The Alliance, the Administrative Council and the whole of humanity—all of humanity only truly cares for results. We are desperate, Pierce, desperate for any advantage we can gain over the enemy. Your necessary sacrifice will result in the salvation of billions.”

Alisa only stared at him.

“Once we discover how to incite your ability in others,” Wolff continued, “the Alliance will be stronger than ever. We will no longer need to rely on AI operators to fight the Gray. Humanity will be able to stand against them on equal ground. They cannot possibly stand against an entire fleet of pilots as deadly as you.”

“You want to remove our reliance on AI?” Alisa was bewildered. What did that have to do with the current situation? Did the traitorous admiral know something? Perhaps he did, or perhaps he was simply blustering. Don't invent new problems for yourself when we've got this many already, she told herself.

“Of course,” Wolff went on. “Humanity is currently weak—weakened by our reliance on abominable machine intelligences, weakened by our technological disadvantage against the Gray. Once we've unlocked the secret of your abilities, I will make humanity strong again—strong enough to dominate all other life in the universe.”

“Ridiculous,” Alisa snapped. “I fight as well as I do because of my relationship with Rin. With our consciousness operating together we're stronger than either of us on our own—”

“And that is precisely the abomination I seek to curtail.” Wolff's scowl faded away, replaced with a faraway look that defied description. “My vision of the future will save humanity from our inevitable extinction. Wielding the ability to read Gray hypercoms, human warriors will once again regain their supremacy. Artificial intelligence will become superfluous and unnecessary. Humanity will thrive without the need to rely upon foul imitations of life such as your 'Rin.'”

Alisa opened her mouth to object, but Wolff's raised hand cut off her nascent objection before it even began.

“Your pretend doll is of no consequence. My agents are currently tracking it and should run their quarry to ground soon enough. If it dares show up here, it will be utterly destroyed. This facility is quite well-defended, I assure you.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Alisa pointed out. “If it hadn't been for her, your plan would have gone off without a hitch. It's only due to her actions that you had to resort to these desperate measures in the first place.”

The admiral shrugged. “Not to worry, Pierce. It will get what's coming to it, as will your former commander and Nera Thomas—lawfully prosecuted for the crimes of aiding a fugitive and willfully creating an unfettered AI. Rest assured that I will deal with your allies soon enough.”

“Who got to you, Admiral, and how did they do it?” Alisa forced a look of stern accusation as she regarded the traitorous admiral. “Who is really behind all of this? This place is obviously not recent. You knew about me long before Admiral Thomas even came to you.”

Wolff stared at her through the red sheen of the barrier plane and laughed in her face, sending her a look of pure disdain. The traitorous admiral's face was rigid. “It is my operation. I control this facility, and with it I will achieve success where Nera Thomas and Section Zero have failed.”

“You can still walk away from this, Admiral.” Alisa's features twisted into a contempt-filled scowl. “You've got a chance to truly help the Alliance. Tell me who you've been working for. Is it Administrator Meyers? Someone else on the Council? Come on, Admiral, you're a fucking flag officer in the Alliance Fleet! You have a seat on High Command! What in all the stars in the universe are you doing?”

Admiral Wolff laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “I am engineering the final and permanent destruction of the Gray. Command will overlook my methods so long as I produce results, and the Administrative Council will only know what I choose to tell them.”

Wolff straightened his collar and turned around, walking back toward the main chamber of the hidden facility. “Goodbye, Pierce. We will not speak again. I have no doubt that you will perform your final duty to the Alliance faithfully.”

Alisa watched him walk away, rounding the corner leading out of the small alcove. Once again, she was left alone with only her own thoughts for company. With her implant disabled, neither her thoughts or her emotions would reach Rin—only the pingback remained active.

She sat down on the bench in the small cell, leaning back against the cold metal wall. He would have overlooked something. Despite his apparent confidence, Wolff was taking a significant risk holding her like this.

Rin, Sara and the ACI team knew she was here. But they likely did not know how many mercenaries were holed up inside the converted storage facility.

She had to escape somehow, to reboot her implant—or at least find an unattended TCC—and warn Rin. Alisa closed her eyes briefly, considering her options. The facility had been hastily constructed, mostly using prefabricated Alliance equipment, the same sort used for setting up temporary staging areas in hostile territory.

The cell's control panel…

Alisa searched her own memory, bringing forth an image of the control panel that governed the barrier plane keeping her locked up. It was fuzzy and indistinct—she had been rattled and shaken by the sudden revelation that the legendary Admiral Wolff was at the center of the plot—but she managed to focus her efforts and obtain a clear image.

The barrier generator was a portable model, not permanently set into the wall but magnetically clamped against the doorframe. Her cell itself was apparently a storage closet that had been converted to keep her imprisoned—it didn't even have a toilet or a cot, just a bench that had been set inside against the far wall. Stacks of sealed crates filled much of the room's interior.

It stood to reason that the barrier plane generator was not connected to the security network. Only one cable had trailed away from the device, leading toward a high-current power socket located on one of the walls inside the small alcove. Clearly the cell had been hastily thrown together shortly after word of her capture had been received.

Alisa was willing to bet that haste had made for sloppy work—at least that's what she hoped. She stood up, pacing around the makeshift cell's interior, her mind working overtime. If she was going to escape, she'd have to make sure they weren't watching her. It was unlikely that there were any listening devices or cameras in the converted storage closet, but she had to make sure.

Alisa spent the next several minutes examining the interior of the cell. The walls were smooth metal, painted with a dull gray anti-fouling primer. The floor was some sort of non-skid textured surface, likely laid over the same metal as the walls. The bench was a lightweight plastic—it wouldn't be useful for anything but sitting on.

She turned her attention to the crates stacked against one of the walls. A quick examination revealed that the crates hadn't been moved in a long time—they were coated in a fine white dust. The crates themselves were sealed, but perhaps there was something behind them.

Reasonably sure she wasn't being watched, Alisa set to work. She placed her hands on the handles of one of the crates and strained—it was heavy, but not too heavy she couldn't lift it. Alisa set the crate down and took a good look at it. Not surprisingly it was sealed with a security lock.

I'm not going to be able to do anything with this, she thought. It wasn't the crates that inspired her, though—it was the makeshift nature of the cell. If she was right, she'd find what she was looking for after moving a few more crates.

After several sweaty, exhausting minutes, Alisa found it—a power socket identical to the one outside. If she was right, the socket itself would be on the same circuit as the one the barrier generator was connected to. A plan started to form in her mind and she giggled out loud. It was completely ridiculous, but it wasn't impossible. She'd been searched and stripped of anything that could reasonably used as a tool or weapon, but it was men who had searched her, and they had overlooked something.

It's so absurd, it just might work.

Alisa took her jacket off, setting it on one of the crates. Then she took off her shirt and her bra, examining the undergarment critically. If she recalled correctly, each of the padded cups maintained their shape with a curved piece of wire.

A piece of metal wire.

She put her shirt back on and started working the threads of the bra, trying to pop them so she could rip the fabric and pull the wires out. The undergarment was cheaply made, but it was still difficult work to part the interwoven threads without a knife. Her fingers started to go numb, but she didn't stop until the pink cloth gave way, freeing a thin, arc-shaped piece of metal several centimeters in length, coated in a layer of plastic.

She repeated the process with the second side. The two pieces of cheap stamped steel were rather stiff, but she ignored the discomfort in her hands and managed to wrap them around each other. The plastic coating was thin and her nails peeled it away easily, exposing bare metal at the ends.

“I can't believe I'm even attempting this,” she muttered under her breath.

Using the ruined garment to at least attempt to insulate her from potential electric shock, she took the pieces of bent metal and knelt down next to the power socket. Taking a deep breath, she jammed the twisted wires into the socket, intending to short the circuit across itself, hopefully without electrocuting herself in the process.

The moment she felt the wires encounter resistance, she let go and jerked back. The results were immediate and satisfying. Sparks flew from the power socket and the pieces of metal began to glow brightly as the socket was shorted across itself. There was a loud crack, followed by a plume of smoke and a burned smell as the socket overloaded and tripped its protection circuit.

The barrier plane flickered once and disappeared.

Alisa poked her head out of the compromised cell, wavering slightly on her feet. Reminding herself to breathe, Alisa allowed herself a smile. She was still amazed it had worked.

Retrieving her jacket, Alisa darted out of the open door.

[-]

Rin peeked out from behind a corner, her grim expression only growing darker. Inside the deep-storage facility was a small hidden research laboratory. The whole place appeared to be constructed from prefab materials commonly used by the Alliance for terrestrial footholds in hostile territory.

She waited, watching the patrol path of a few mercenary sentries. The entire facility was devoid of Alliance military personnel. So far there hadn't been much opposition, but Rin knew that couldn't possibly last. Now that she had managed to penetrate the deep-storage facility, the odds against her had increased exponentially.

Two mercenaries armed with short-barrel linear carbines patrolled this particular hallway, their weapons held loosely but within easy reach. It was obvious they weren't expecting an attack. A quick sensor scan and analysis of the guards told her they were bored and tired, but they certainly weren't slacking off.

There's no way I can get past them without being spotted, Rin thought, her lips twisting into a frustrated grimace. She had managed to avoid detection thus far, but it seemed like luck would no longer be on her side. The prospect of Alisa taken away from her forever was like an icy dagger of fear plunging into her mind.

Rin glanced at Sara. Neither of them spoke—stealth remained their most potent weapon and only real defense—but their eyes met and the fringe troubleshooter nodded. Sara lifted her suppressed pistol, identical to the one Faris had given Rin, and thumbed the fire-select switch over to the secondary mode. She quickly drew a bead on the nearest sentry and squeezed the trigger.

With a barely-audible hiss, the weapon's low-power accelerator rails discharged and flung a small dart through the air, embedding itself in the sentry's unprotected neck. The man let out a sudden, soft gasp of surprise and stumbled, dropping to the deck.

His partner whirled toward the sound and opened fire without warning. Rin's eyes widened in astonishment and she ducked behind the corner, but Sara's expression remained hard—as if she'd expected the wild overreaction.

Hypervelocity rounds scythed through the air, but Rin managed to avoid taking any hits, contorting her body and thrusting the barrel of her pistol around cover. Even without being able to see him, she knew well enough where he was and could predict where he might move next. Her finger twitched on the trigger twice and sent a pair of darts sailing toward their target.

The sentry was unfortunately not wearing his helmet. His eyes widened as he threw himself down, but Rin placed her shots carefully. The first projectile went wide and bounced off the wall paneling but the second struck the man in the gaps between his hardsuit's armor plating. He slumped to the floor in a heap, the fast-acting soporific agent sending him peacefully into dreamland.

“Why the hell did he shoot at us?” Rin demanded. “What kind of soldier just shoots without warning at the slightest noise?”

Sara shrugged. “They're not soldiers, just fringe scum. PMCs don't always have the highest recruitment standards. With all that noise, though, they're going to be on high alert. Call Faris and update the infiltration team.”

“Shadow Lead, this is Null. I've linked up with Luna, but we had to incapacitate two guards. One of them just started blasting away wildly and made a hell of a racket. We're not going to stay hidden any longer. I'm on the first sub-level heading down.”

“Acknowledged,” Faris responded. If they were bothered by the loss of the element of surprise, it certainly wasn't audible in their voice. “Two is still outside—we can't call her back in. It's just you two, me and Three and Four.”

“Where are you?”

“We're heading into sub-level 1 now. Should be about a hundred meters from your current position. There's mercs everywhere.”

“We know,” Rin muttered grimly. “I think they tripped a silent alarm, but it's hard to tell—there's not much wireless activity in here for me to eavesdrop on.”

“Shadow engaging the enemy now. You shouldn't encounter too much resistance, but remember—try to keep everyone's blood inside everyone's bodies. Find us quickly. Lead out.”

The moment the comm disconnected, Rin caught a faint dragging sound further down the corridor. She ducked back into cover as the spot where she had just been was suddenly filled with a hail of hypervelocity rounds. The withering barrage of fire continued for another few seconds.

Rin pressed herself flat against the corridor wall and stuck her pistol out, loosing several impactors blindly in order to force their opponents into a defensive posture. Her extended senses gave her a pretty good idea where the mercs were located, keeping to cover to avoid her suppressive fire.

“I'm going to do it,” Sara shouted over the hissing shriek of linear accelerator fire. Rin nodded and kept pulling the trigger, not caring where her shots went so long as they didn't actually hit the enemy.

The fringe troubleshooter extended her legs in a half-leap, half-stride as she burst out from behind the corner, concentrating her own fire to keep the merc from coming out and shooting at her. Her quick dart took her across the hallway to a shallow niche around an inset and locked door, dragging the mercs' fire along with her.

“Go!” Sara bit out as she flattened her body against the niche.

Rin took full advantage of her companion's attempt to distract the enemy and ran down the corridor. It would be extremely dangerous to be trapped in the middle of a hallway without cover if she ran into another patrol. Fortunately, the hallway was clear and Sara's little stunt presented her with the unprotected backs of the two mercenaries.

A few moments later, the battle was over. Silent in her small victory, Rin stood over the inert bodies of their opponents. Unlike their fellows, these two had taken the time to put their helmets back on. Sara's reckless charge from cover gave Rin all the time she needed to yank those helmets off and deliver a stunning blow to the back of their necks.

“How long do you think they'll be out of the fight?”

Rin shook her head at Sara. “Not long. They're just stunned, not unconscious.”

“Easy to fix.” The fringe troubleshooter shrugged and thumbed her pistol back over to the dart rails and put one each in the downed mercenaries. “Now they'll stay put.”

“Null, Luna, this is Lead,” Faris's voice came over the comm. “What's your status?”

Rin's lips curved into a ghost of a smile. “We've got two more mercs sleeping. We're coming to you—location?”

“Take a left and then a right. The noncoms all left when the silent alarm was tripped; we're taking cover in an office near the testing labs.”

Rin glanced up at the placards hanging from the ceiling. The corridor she was currently in would lead into the main open area of the testing labs, just as Faris had told her.

“We need to find Alisa. She's going to be kept in some out-of-the-way place,” Rin said as she ran. Sara followed closely behind as they continued down the corridor—

Only to run into two more mercenaries.

Composite-metallic impactors tore into the metal walls, blasting through but somehow managing to miss both Rin and Sara entirely. Rin ducked behind cover, avoiding a second burst of deadly hypervelocity rounds; his partner fired at Sara, herding her toward another intersection where stacks of sealed equipment crates had been stacked.

Peeking around the corner she saw two guards working together, covering each other from both sides. There was no way she could close to hand-to-hand range the way they were dug in like that, not even if Sara pulled another near-suicidal charge. The mercenaries quickly and efficiently managed to split them apart and would have little trouble keeping them bottled up.

Don't kill them unless you have to. Rin's violet eyes narrowed to slits. The mercs had put her in a position where she'd have no choice but to kill—apparently, the defenders already figured out that their assailants were prioritizing non-lethal takedowns.

Rin shrugged. There wasn't much that could be done about it at this point.

She leaned out of cover and fired two impactors at full power. Each shot struck with flawless accuracy, shattering their helmet visors and punching a lethal hole through their skulls. The two corpses dropped, blood pooling beneath them as it spread from their ruined faces.

“I thought we weren't killing anyone,” Sara objected.

“They didn't give me much choice.”

The fringe troubleshooter shrugged as if it didn't matter. Rin wasn't sure anymore. Did the distinction really matter? Was it somehow less abhorrent to kill these humans? Was it truly any worse than killing the Gray? She had no answers and had no time for moral or philosophical analysis.

“Lead, this is Null. Status update.”

“Looks like there are six left,” Faris came back. “Two are dead. You're on the other side of the room through that entrance—door's already open. We'll start suppression fire as soon as you two come around the bend.”

“We'll be there soon.”

Rin ducked down and pressed her back against the corner, keeping as much of herself in cover as she could. The corridor widened past this point, leading into another storage unit that had been converted into a testing lab. She signaled Sara to follow her, but not too closely.

Clutching her borrowed pistol, Rin broke into a run and leaped forward through the open door. Her body collapsed to the ground, dropping into a combat roll that reduced her target profile. At the same moment, Faris and two other black-armored fighters opened fire, blasting away at the mercenaries. All six were armed with heavy pistols and carried a portable barrier plane generator in their free hands.

Rin watched as the mercs raised their barrier planes and deflected incoming fire. The shields would probably be able to shrug off just about anything Shadow could throw at them. In such a furious close-quarters brawl, death would be a near-certainty. Rin felt angry burning lines of frustration pour through her consciousness and she unslung the carbine she'd taken off the perimeter sentry.

The short-barreled assault rifle's muzzle jumped as Rin mashed the trigger down, firing her stolen weapon in full-auto mode. The mercenaries, to their credit, quickly realized they were being flanked. With reasonable efficiency they collapsed into a tight defensive formation, overlapping their barrier plane generators to better protect themselves. Rin shrugged and flicked the fire-select, switching to the shotgun barrel.

The weapon belched a storm of metal fragments from the wide magnetic ram's bore. As Rin had anticipated, the blasts weren't anywhere near powerful enough to penetrate the mercenaries' barrier planes. Each blast still had considerable impact force that pushed the mercs back as they took the brunt of each shot.

Rin fired again and again, the relentless hammer blows against the shield causing an opening in the tight defensive formation. It was the opening they'd been waiting for—Sara lunged forward and darted past the reeling phalanx, a small spherical device gripped in her left hand.

The shotgun blasts proved to be an effective distraction as the metallic sphere rolled to a stop against a heavy-booted foot. With a sharp piercing shock, the debilitating explosive went off a pair of heartbeats later. The detonation was so close and so loud that Rin's auditory sensors temporarily disabled themselves to protect the delicate electronics from damage.

“Lovely timing from a pair of lovely ladies,” Faris remarked, a wry smile spreading across their face as they surveyed the carnage. That expression quickly turned serious as the other fighters gathered around. “We've almost made it through. With these six down, they can't possibly have too many more mercs stuffed away in here.”

The fringe troubleshooter gave her old friend a sharp glare. “That was just a concussion grenade.”

“Four, take care of it,” Faris barked at a subordinate. The soldier beneath the armor and visor didn't bother to answer as she drew a dart gun of her own and sent each of the mercs off to dreamland.

Rin studied the testing lab, considering her options. There was a security terminal on the far wall of the testing lab. The passkey she took from the sentry outside wasn't enough to get her full access to the system, but she hoped it would at least contain a map of the facility and the guards' patrol routes.

“What are you doing?” Faris asked.

“What I came here to do.”

Rin tapped a few more keys into the security console and quickly pulled up a diagram of the facility, saving the detailed map with a single glance. The place wasn't designed to hold prisoners; there weren't too many places they could put Alisa where she'd be unable to escape. Using the map and the pingback from Alisa's implant, it wasn't too difficult to narrow down her partner's location.

“There.” Rin pointed to the small holographic display. “Two floors down. There are several freight lifts in the deep-storage unit that can take us to each level. Let's go.”

[-]

The general alert had proven a blessing for Alisa. The entire floor had all but emptied of guards, the mercenaries heading up in an attempt to repel the attackers. The scientists and researchers likely evacuated as soon as the alert was activated. Alisa crept slowly down the corridor, doing her best to stay out of sight.

She didn't know exactly where she was going. Her implant was still not functioning properly, but a fuzzy, tingling sensation started to prick at the back of her neck that told her it was starting to recover from the overload. With luck, it would come back online sooner rather than later.

Now that Rin, Sara and the ACI people had engaged the defenders, Alisa had a different goal than simply warning them. She had to tell Rin, to let her know the identity of the plot's mastermind and allow her access to her memories so that Rin would have definitive evidence to present to the Alliance.

If we don't make it out of this in one piece, Nera needs to know everything. We can't let Wolff get away with this.

Alisa stopped again and concentrated on the implant, attempting to force-restart the device again. The odd tingling sensation was stronger now. She could feel her commands reaching the device's circuits now, but the bioelectric charge converter was still outputting an abnormally low voltage.

Rounding a corner, Alisa entered another wide-open area. A dozen long tables filled much of the large room's interior space. Terminals and consoles dotted the edges, but the tables themselves were loaded down with bits and pieces of Gray technology in various stages of assembly and repair. Many of the pieces were heavily damaged, blackened and twisted.

This was the area where they studied the Gray's weapons and defenses, then. It was clear that Wolff was obsessed with usurping Admiral Thomas as the one who would break the Gray's technological strength. Her eyes roamed over the various bits of salvaged equipment. Her eyes widened in uneasy recognition as a spherical Gray assault drone, its armor half-stripped and several of its internal components removed and placed on the table it sat on. It looked as if the researchers were attempting to repair it.

Alisa sublimated a shudder as old memories from her childhood threatened to drift to the surface. The only other time she had seen a Gray drone this close…

She pushed the frightening thoughts aside, letting her concern for Rin flood through her mind and displace the old trauma. The urgency of her emotions spurred her on and she moved through the Gray weapons lab with greater haste. The corridor on the other side of the lab branched off in three directions. She picked the corridor that would take her the furthest away from her makeshift cell.

Muffled the sounds of battle drifted from above. Alisa knew the fighting had to be extremely fierce. Wolff hadn't revealed exactly how many mercenaries he had defending the facility, but it was likely to be a large number.

Alisa paused, closing her eyes. Focusing on the trigger thought, she attempted to reboot her implant one more time. The device felt sluggish, but it complied with her request. She felt a moment of dizziness as the charge converter increased power output and the system began to restart, reconnecting with the tiny QE transceiver that permanently linked her to Rin.

An overwhelming surge of emotion blasted through the link as Rin realized that Alisa's thoughts and feelings were once again reaching her. There was a bit of sluggishness in the translation from thought to discrete data, but Rin's automated processes quickly cleared it up.

Alisa felt Rin's presence clearly—she was one floor above her current position.

Rin! I'm here!

14

Rin glanced at Faris and nodded. The fighter gripped their carbine tightly and rounded the corner, weapon held at the ready just in case.

“We're clear for now, just keep your eyes open.”

“Didn't think we were going to get out of that last fight in one piece,” Four said, her voice more than a bit shaky.

“But we did,” Rin assured her. “Let's keep moving—the lift is only a few dozen meters down that corridor and through a service door.”

Rin followed closely behind Faris, with Sara near her side and Three and Four coming up from behind. Faris crouched near the sealed service entrance and produced what looked like a small sealing tool. Rin watched as the operative ran a thick bead of grayish putty around the door.

Faris turned to the rest of the group, TCC held in one hand. They tapped a string of commands into the device and stepped back. “Fire in the hole.”

Their finger stabbed down and the detonators began to fire in sequence. All the human members of the team ducked as the breaching charge went off with a roar and a whoosh of expanding gases. The corridor filled with smoke, but Rin's eyes were able to see through it without issue. She lashed out with her foot. The heavy kick sent the weakened door crashing down to the interior of the corridor, the edges blasted and cracked from the shaped charge.

“Into the lift, now!” Rin barked.

Faris and Sara went inside first, followed by Rin, then Three and Four. Rin tapped the panel and was surprised to find this lift was still powered on—likely it had been left active to allow the workers to evacuate when the intrusion alert went active. The elevator descended deeper into the storage facility, but it stopped after traveling ten meters. The door did not open.

“The doors are locked but still have power. I'm going to see if I can open it.” Rin slipped her fingers beneath the edge of the lift's door panel and tore the plate off. Underneath the cover was a switch that would reboot the system and open the door in the event of an emergency, such as a fire or a hull breach. She pressed the button and held it down for ten seconds.

The door slid open. Rin waited as the rest of the team poured through the open door into the sub-level. This floor extended into the heart of the deep storage unit. The number of featureless corridors was vastly reduced, with much of the floor being taken up by wide-open spaces stacked with crates and shielded containers.

Rin walked past a large room filled with rows and rows of thin, rack-mount computers stacked in rows transportable cabinets. Judging from the power draw and the rows of cabinets, Rin suspected there was at least two hundred modular computational systems, all linked together to function as one. The server room was filled with enough brute-force computing power to rival an Alliance destroyer's main computer network, even if it was largely off-the-shelf tech.

“The security office should be nearby, somewhere along this left-side corridor,” Faris observed.

“How do you know?” Rin demanded.

“I read the sign.”

Rin looked up and noticed a white placard hanging from the ceiling with the words Security Office printed in large red typeface. An arrow pointed down the corridor that branched off to the left of the server room.

“Oh,” Rin said without missing a beat. “That makes sense.”

Faris laughed.

“Can the comedy routine. We have to move,” Sara urged.

Rin moved to the head of the formation, flicking the switch on her weapon that enabled the long-range rifle mode. The left-side corridor was long and studded with doors leading to what Rin suspected were the individual labs of those who worked at the clandestine research facility. All the doors were sealed and powered down, however, preventing any entry without explosives or a cutting laser.

The corridor terminated at a double-width door labeled in bold red letters. Faris studied the door and the access panel. The door was powered on and the panel's normal authorization check appeared to be active. “It's locked, not sealed.”

“I'll see if I can open it.”

Rin examined the panel and the door itself. This particular door was triple-bolted and hardened against explosives, which made sense as it led to the security office. She had no doubt that the control system was also hardened against intrusions of the electronic variety.

“It's going to take a minute.”

Sara glared at the door as if it had offended her personally. “Can you get it open?”

Rin nodded. “I can do it, but the system's adaptive and will resist most hacking techniques. It'll keep taking longer and longer to break through, so any further doors we have to get open are going to need to be blown open.”

“We've only got a kilo of breaching charge left,” Faris told her. “These doors are going to take a lot more than the others to blast open.”

“Then let's hope we can take control of the security office.”

Faris didn't respond, instead turning attention to their subordinates. “Three, Four, keep an eye out on the corridor while she works. I'll stay with these two.”

“Acknowledged,” Four said, tapping Three on the shoulder. The two agents moved a bit further back down the corridor, taking defensive positions as best they could. The doorways leading to the individual offices were sunk slightly into the corridor wall, offering the barest hint of cover.

Rin! I'm here!

Rin's eyes widened in shock as the neural link was suddenly and inexplicably back online. She felt a rush of emotion—love, relief, happiness, but most of all, urgency—as Alisa's familiar mental presence returned to her.

“She contacted me.” Rin's voice sounded dazed. “Somehow she managed to slip away from her captors and reboot her implant.”

“How the hell did she manage that?” Sara demanded. “Wasn't she completely unarmed and unequipped? What, did they throw her in a cell with a toolkit or something?”

“Sent to rescue someone but they rescued themselves,” Faris added, shaking their head in slow admiration. Rin ignored the flippant comment, feeling only dread and knowing that by escaping her cell, Alisa had likely placed herself in grave danger.

Alisa, listen to me—hide! Hide and let me know where you are!

No! Alisa's mental voice came back, filled with urgency and despair. You have to tell Admiral Thomas. You have to tell her what I'm about to tell you. Call her as soon as you can and tell her that the traitor is—

Rin gasped as the link was saturated with mangled data, expressing severe shock and pain, cutting Alisa off in mid-thought. With a cold, certain clarity, Rin knew her suspicions were tragically proven correct, that Alisa had run into trouble right when she was trying to contact the infiltration team.

“We've got company, Null!” Three's voice shouted out, shattering Rin's desperate thoughts and bringing her back to focus on the more immediate threat. “Get that door open or we're all going to be corpses!”

Rin nodded and turned her attention back to hacking the door. She wrenched the door panel off with her bare hands, not caring that her nails split and cracked. They could be repaired later. She ignored the white synthetic blood dripping from her hands, dismissed the damage reports that materialized in her mind. Getting the door opened was all that mattered right now—the rest would keep. If they died here, Alisa would be doomed. Rin ignored the sounds of battle, the gunfire and the screams of pain as bullets struck flesh.

“Three is down!” Four cried.

“I'm going as fast as I can,” Rin growled. She pushed nearly all of her impressive processing power into the hack, attempting to overwhelm the security program with sheer speed and brute force. The door panel indicator chimed once and the door began to open, sliding a few centimeters before grinding to a stop as the system crashed.

“No, no, this is not going to stop me!” Rin snarled, grabbing the edges of the double door with both hands. She strained hard against the stuck mechanism, her body's myopolymer muscles bulging and contorting beneath the flesh. She increased the force exerted by her arms, tearing the doors completely open with a shriek of rent metal. Pain-analogues slashed through Rin's mind in the form of a flood of warnings and errors.

“Door's open! Fall in and use the frame for cover!

Sara and Faris ducked through the open door, with Four following close behind. Their success at breaching the door only seemed to anger the defenders even more—the volume of linear accelerator fire suddenly increased. Impactors sizzled through the air and struck the featureless wall plating, tearing ragged holes in the thin metal.

“How many?” Four gasped. The burly woman was sitting against the wall next to Faris, pressing a field dressing against a bloody hole in her thigh.

“Looks like seven or eight,” Faris snapped between shots. “They're not playing around anymore and neither should we.” They turned a steady look on Rin. “Sara, Four and I will hold them off—you get to the security office and get the local network under our control. If we can do that, we can bring ACS to crash the party and they won't have a choice but to surrender.”

“Got it.” The scowl was replaced by a hopeful smile. “Kick ass. Don't die.”

“Faris and I have a lot of practice kicking ass and not dying,” Sara remarked dryly. “Go on, get going. The clock is ticking.”

Rin nodded to the fringe troubleshooter and her old friend. The double-width blast doors were located in a small niche set aside from the main security and surveillance floor, making the area itself much more defensible.

Rin suspected if the defending force had a more competent ground commander, they would have left some mercs here with a light support weapon. However, the security office was seemingly deserted. Rin straightened her shoulders and set off to find the central control terminal.

[-]

Fuzzy jolts of something indescribable skittered across Alisa's scalp. The charge converter that powered her implant briefly spiked above its regulated output, scrambling the signal, but the device seemed to be working fine now.

Alisa, listen to me—hide! Rin's mental voice rang in her mind. Hide and let me know where you are!

No! You have to tell Admiral Thomas! You have to tell her what I'm about to tell you. Call her as soon as you can and tell her that the traitor is—

Pain.

Alisa felt her focus disintegrate, her usually flawless control over the link's data stream collapsing. Pure agony radiated from her lower back, dangerously close to her spine. She stumbled forward, feeling a sickening wave of nausea and weakness flood through her.

There was another terrific impact, and then another. She lost her balance, fell to her knees hard against the deck plating. Her back and right thigh were a searing hell of excruciating pain. She felt wet warmth pour down her leg—she didn't even have to look at it to know it was blood, and it was coming out at a prodigious rate.

Another discharge—her ears clearly caught it this time, the high-frequency, barely-audible whine of discharging capacitors followed by the quiet hissing shriek of a linear accelerator weapon firing.

An instant later she was struck again, this time in the right shoulder. The impact spun her around and knocked her to the metal floor of the control room. Her vision went hazy for a moment before clearing again. She could hear the rushing of blood in her ears—or was it the blood draining from her body?

Her hand felt against her midriff—the round had penetrated clean through her, leaving a hole in her side. The blood was bright red rather than black. Alisa blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision. She felt cold, but she managed to somehow remain conscious enough to watch a slight, slim figure, clad in a forest-green armored hardsuit and helmet, step out in front of her. Her unknown assailant held a heavy linear pistol, finger flexing just above the trigger.

Gray eyes widened in bewildered disbelief as the figure pulled off their helmet, tossing it to the ground. Underneath the protective headgear was the hate-contorted face of a woman with wavy, lustrous black hair. It was much longer than it had been, grown well beyond regulation length. She was short and slight of build and had light brown eyes that were perfectly suited to laughter and wide-eyed wonder.

Those eyes did not currently hold wonder. Alisa felt her stomach collapse in upon itself as disbelief gave way to certainty. The cold, calculating ethereal light that shone in those brown eyes was quite fitting.

For the eyes of a ghost.

“You really should have just stayed in your cell, Alisa. Then again, sensible judgment has never been one of your strong suits.”

Alisa opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't say anything. Her mind was scattered, unfocused. Pain blocked away her higher thought processes, but even that was starting to fade as her system reacted by releasing endorphins. The nanites in her body also took action, flooding her body with potent synthetic painkillers they manufactured on the spot.

Lindy Meyers smiled, but it was not a happy smile. The expression contained only coldblooded viciousness. She slowly, almost lazily lifted her gun hand upward, keeping the barrel of the heavy pistol pointed at Alisa's broken and bleeding body.

“I suspect your augments are working as hard as they can to keep you conscious and protect your vital organs. Good. Your brain is precious and irreplaceable, but we can always repair your body later.”

Alisa gasped and coughed wetly, blood flecking her lips. Her eyes filled with complete lack of understanding. Her wounds, the endorphins flooding her system and the extreme stress left Alisa feeling utterly destabilized.

“W… why… how…?”

Lindy's cruel smile widened. “Why, what, my dear Alisa?”

“How… how did you—” Alisa was interrupted by a hacking cough that sent waves of fresh agony through her body.

“How did I survive the destruction of my Lancer?” Lindy finished for her. “The ejection system was keyed to a packet of system data that would intentionally corrupt a bit of code used by the antimatter furnace's magnetic containment field. With the moderators already disabled and the furnace running well over the safety margins, it was only a matter of time before the fighter destroyed itself. It proved to be a very effective distraction.”

Alisa blinked, trying desperately to stay conscious. “But… why? What—” Further speech was made impossible by a fit of coughing that brought fresh waves of nausea crashing down around her.

“You'll find out soon enough, Alisa,” Lindy replied, her voice softening and taking on a more sympathetic tone. “Nemesis needs you—no, humanity needs you and those like you—in order to defeat the Gray once and for all. You can accomplish so much more with us. Your potential has been wasted and will continue to be wasted by the Alliance.”

Alisa opened her mouth to respond, but she found no words would form. Darkness began to nibble around the edges of her vision. She let out an incoherent groan of pain, betrayal and confusion. Her senses were starting to fail her, but as she faded in and out of consciousness, she became aware of another person in the control room.

[-]

Rin stopped dead in her tracks. A person dressed in an unmarked green hardsuit and helmet stood by the doors leading to a restricted-access lift that would take them anywhere in the facility. The glowing panel next to the door chimed once as the doors started to slide open.

It was then that Rin noticed the blood on the floor.

“Alisa, no.”

Her partner’s captor turned and immediately extended a heavy linear pistol. A single shot rang out without hesitation, striking Rin in the shoulder but causing little damage beyond a hole in the tissue. White fluid burst from the wound, dripping slowly down Rin's arm.

“Don't move,” an all-too-familiar voice snarled.

Rin's eyes widened in shock and horror. Once, Rin told Sara Loewe that she could never forget anything. As an artificial intelligence with a staggeringly complex neural lattice diagram, her capacity was enormous. No matter how much she learned and took in, Rin would never forget.

At that moment, she desperately wished she could. There was no mistaking the voice that came from beneath the featureless helmet. Faced with an impossible input, Rin felt her lattice diagram explode into countless predictive equations, desperately trying to rationalize what stood before her.

“I don't understand,” Rin admitted after a moment of silent deliberation.

“I am not surprised.” Lindy Meyers kept her pistol trained on Rin. “Very few people in the Alliance understand. The Alliance understands so very little—about the Gray, about this woman and the power she wields. That lack of understanding will doom us all.”

Rin shook her head. Tears began to glitter in her eyes. “You were my friend. I trusted you. I loved you.”

“Loved me?” Lindy echoed, her voice tinged with scorn. “No, you could not. That 'love' is a created thing, a false thing, manifested within your processes by your insane counterpart. You are a weapon. You were created to fight, to predict outcomes, to forecast tactical maneuvers. You exist to kill the Gray. Love?” The woman made a disgusted sound. “You cannot love any more than this pistol can love.”

“You have no idea what I can feel. You can't possibly imagine it.” Rin's tone was deadly serious, cold and hard. “Give Alisa back to me. Now.”

Lindy shook her helmeted head. “She is critical to our success. Nemesis needs her, needs every human who shares her ability. With time, they will be forged through fire, shaped and honed into the ultimate weapons. They will become the assassin's dagger for humanity to plunge deep into the heart of the Gray.”

“Give her back,” Rin demanded.

“Or what? What will you do? If you so much as twitch, I will shoot you where you stand. This weapon has more than enough power to render your platform inoperable.”

Rin could not argue; the linear accelerator weapon Lindy wielded was a heavily modified and illegal variant that traded accuracy and ammunition capacity for raw destructive power. The open bore was wide and the short, bulky magnetic rails bristled with oversized heat sinks. At close range the weapon could punch holes through starship hull plating.

“You need me to compel Alisa's cooperation.”

“Correct. Pierce is obsessed with you. By keeping you under our control, the Nemesis can ensure her loyalty. Over time, our own methods will remove the need for such an inelegant solution.”

Rin could not see Lindy's expression beneath the helmet's darkened visor, but she imagined it to match or exceed the disgust in her voice. This terrible revelation was a shock, but she was not human. Rin's mind presented the outcome of a human-seeming personality, but it did not operate in the same fashion.

Lindy no doubt knew this, but Rin's ability to think rationally was not hampered by the emotional blow of such a betrayal. If anything, the extreme stress of the situation drove her to seek comfort in detailed logical analysis.

“It was all a lie.” Her voice was calmly modulated and collected, without even the slightest tremor. “Everything you told us and shared with us was a lie.”

“A cover, not a lie,” Lindy corrected her. “Much of it was true—a kernel of truth will always strengthen any good cover. I really am Lindy Meyers, and I really have been an officer in the Fleet. My true allegiance lies not with the failed Alliance, but with the vengeance of a dead world.”

Rin scowled. “Why would you work against the Alliance, subvert it from within, if you wish to defeat the Gray? Ending the war is our primary mission.”

“Ending the war,” Lindy echoed, pointedly emphasizing her stance on the issue. The armored woman shrugged. “The flames of hatred gutter in the breeze. It lacks the necessary resolve to truly exterminate the Gray. Section Zero chose to allow Pierce to live a normal life to spare her discomfort. She should have been honored to sacrifice her freedom, even her life, to slaughter the destroyers. How can you say that is correct—”

The woman's words were drowned out as Rin exploded forward, low and fast, her legs pounding against the deck with sledgehammer force. Lindy reacted, but much too slowly, as her mind was operating on a different level. Rin had counted on that, drawing Lindy into a discussion that challenged her deception and true beliefs. She let herself fall and slide across the metal deck plating and drove her foot upward.

Viciously, Lindy swore and shifted her aim, cursing herself for letting the inhuman thing take advantage of her human thinking. Rin was having none of that, though, and her booted foot struck the woman's armored wrist with enough force to send the gun flying through the air, clattering on the deck against the opposite wall.

Rin sprang to her feet in a single fluid motion and drew her right arm back, delivering a stunning open-palm strike to the flexible material covering Lindy's midsection. The force of the strike sent the woman reeling backward, but the layer of non-Newtonian fluid inside the hardsuit's articulation zone stiffened to absorb much of the blow.

“You'll never reach the gun in time.” Rin's pronouncement wasn't a mere threat or an attempt at intimidation. It was a precisely calculated fact, simulated and verified within the split second before she opened her mouth to speak.

“You're an abomination,” Lindy snarled, her furious voice sounding even more inhuman as it came filtered through the helmet's external speakers. “No matter how much you act, no matter how well you pretend, you will never be human. You are a computer, a thing, a manufactured falsehood without a soul.”

“I don't care.” Rin's response was cool and measured. “I never once claimed to be or attempted to be anything other than what I am. My whole life I've pushed myself to be the best I can be, from the moment I awakened.”

“That doesn't matter. You were only doing what you were ordered to do. What you were programmed to do. There is no life in you!”

Rin shrugged. “Humans are no different. You do what you are ordered to do, you follow your beliefs—your programs. I may have been created by humans, but humans were created by the happenstance of evolution. Your claim rings a bit hollow.”

“We are different!” The traitor woman's voice rose an octave to match her mounting rage. “You present a mockery of the human soul, but are merely a lifeless simulacrum! You cannot evolve, you cannot reproduce, you cannot feel except for the pale imitation of digitized emotions instilled within you by a deranged, damaged little girl. You are nothing.”

Rin laughed without humor. “You don't understand anything.”

“You are not a person!” Lindy's empty right hand lashed outward and grabbed Alisa by the collar of her bloody jacket, yanking the semi-conscious woman upright and in front of her armored mag-boots.

Alisa moaned softly as fresh waves of pain coursed through her body, but they seemed far away and indistinct. Lindy drew a short-bladed knife from a sheath on her hardsuit's hip and pressed the polished steel blade against Alisa's throat. The razor-sharp edge left an angry red crease in the dusky flesh.

“You will cease your resistance or I will slice her carotid artery open and let her bleed out on the deck plating,” Lindy stated in a flat, empty tone.

Rin shook her head and laughed bitterly.

“How hopelessly transparent. Your organization needs her. I already know you won't do anything worse to Alisa than you've already done.” She shrugged and stared violet daggers at the armored figure. “Consider the situation logically. You can't reach the gun from where you are before I do. In fact, it would be very easy for me to do so.”

Lindy visibly seethed, but said nothing.

“Drop the knife and release Alisa, and I will let you walk out of here alive. Do anything else—and I mean anything at all—and I will kill you. If you so much as speak, breathe or even twitch a muscle wrong, I will rend your flesh into bloody pieces—” Rin paused, her girlish features twisting into a macabre grin, “—and I'll enjoy every nanosecond of it.”

The traitor bit out a muffled stream of curses. The knife dropped to the deck with a clatter and she stepped back into the open lift. She pressed several buttons on the lift's control panel and the doors slowly started to close.

Rin stared at her hard through the gap as the doors sealed shut. “For your sake, you should hope that I never encounter you again.”

[-]

The doors to the lift opened, revealing a featureless corridor that would lead her to the medical station and the emergency shuttle access beyond. Without Pierce, her mission was a failure. Snarling with inarticulate rage, Lindy tore her helmet off and threw it against a wall with such force that the wall plating buckled slightly.

She willed herself to calm down, her augmented muscles tingling with adrenaline and lethal purpose. She had failed, and all because of that void-damned, soulless machine! There was nothing left but to engage in cleanup protocols. Her anger and pride had gotten the best of her—she railed at herself for mentioning the name of her organization to that wretched AI.

Lindy's cheeks burned with shame at the thought of one of Nemesis' most elite operatives being outwitted by a lifeless doll.

Nemesis would not be happy, but they would not punish her harshly as they valued her skills far too much. She survived, the sample was still alive and could be obtained at a later date. Time was ever on their side. At the very least, Lindy told herself, she would get to see that disgusting toady Wolff take the fall for the entire operation as the Alliance's investigators closed in.

Contingency plans were built into everything she did. As the leader of this particular operation, Lindy used various clandestine methods to enlist the aid of Admiral Steven Wolff, swaying him with information regarding ACI's Section Zero. She had spent the better part of the last three years whispering in his ear, convincing him that Nera Thomas was weak and indecisive. She further fanned the flames by stoking his anti-AI sentiment; Wolff was well-known among the members of High Command as a staunch opponent of the use of pair-linking and AI operators in general.

In reality, Wolff was a disposable pawn. Even if the plan had worked flawlessly, Lindy was under orders from the Nemesis command structure to ensure that he was removed from consideration. Of course, the plan had not gone off without a hitch, but up until Lindy's final confrontation with Rin, she could still have succeeded. Without her prize, Lindy was desperate to salvage some sort of benefit for Nemesis from this disaster.

Admiral Wolff would be brought down. When she learned that Admiral Thomas's pet fringe scum foiled the attempt to capture Pierce, she began to subtly manipulate the data. The obscuring paper trail that once effectively covered up the connection between the Nemesis and their facility here on Sirius was already being leaked to the Alliance. The hiring of mercenaries with misappropriated funding, the unauthorized transfer of Alliance researchers, the sabotage of the 703's starfighters—all of it would lead directly to Steven Wolff.

Lindy almost laughed aloud as she stalked down the corridor leading to the Fleet shuttle port. Wolff would be waiting for her, mistakenly believing that she would leverage the resources of her mysterious organization to save him from the inevitable reckoning.

Misguided old fool, the woman thought to herself as she opened the emergency door leading to the docking bay.

[-]

Admiral Wolff paced in the shuttle bay's small conference room. A coffee silo sat on the center of the table with a small pitcher of cream next to it. The admiral poured himself a fresh cup and added a dollop of cream, swallowing the bitter brew and glancing at the time on the wall chronometer.

His contact with Nemesis was late. She should have been here already, even burdened by her incapacitated quarry. He knew that she had no choice but to come to him in order to make it off the colony with Pierce in tow. Only his authority would protect her, enable her to take a shuttle from his flagship, the Indomitable, and bring Alisa Pierce to one of Nemesis's hidden citadels.

He sipped his coffee slowly. Footsteps sounded outside the door, muffled but obviously those of someone wearing mag-boots. Wolff unlocked the door and smiled as a slight, dark-haired woman clad in an unmarked black hardsuit strode inside. His smile faded as he realized that his contact was alone and unburdened.

“Where is Pierce?” Wolff demanded, his face contorting into a disbelieving scowl. It turned out to be an unwise question.

Lindy's eyes went flinty as she struck, slamming her fist into the admiral's midsection with such force that he was lifted off the ground. His scowling face contorted in agony, his eyes widening in shock and betrayal. The man doubled over, clutching his stomach as he wheezed for breath.

“The mission was a failure.” Lindy glared at him, her tone flat and cold. “Your failure, Admiral. You gave me your 'absolute, ironclad assurance' that the rogue AI operator would not pose a hindrance, remember? However, circumstances proved otherwise.”

“I could not have predicted that!” Wolff managed after he recovered his wits and his breath. “How dare you lay the blame for this upon me! I have done everything your organization asked of me and more besides—”

“Irrelevant. You fucked up, Admiral, and Nemesis does not brook failure lightly. I will not allow your incompetence to reflect poorly upon my reputation.”

Wolff's expression darkened. “Insolent bitch! I have served your organization's cause tirelessly and this is how you repay my efforts? You failed to procure Pierce, but I have done my part. I demand that you honor our deal.”

Lindy blinked a moment before she burst out into mocking laughter. “Please, Admiral, I hardly think you're in any position to be making demands of me. I have initiated cleanup protocols. Our assets are already withdrawing.”

The admiral's angry expression melted instantly, replaced with a look of shocked betrayal. If the Nemesis cell was fleeing Alliance space, the trail could only lead to him. Lindy smirked as she imagined what the man's expression would look like when he realized how she had spent the past month neatly framing him for the entire conspiracy.

“You… you can't do that! You need me!” Wolff howled in protest.

“Hardly. We have subverted the Alliance from within for well over a century, Admiral. You were nothing more than a tool, just one of many.” Lindy's lips twitched into a hard-edged smirk. “Most of which were far more useful than you.”

The implication in her voice was unmistakable. Admiral Wolff shivered, his whole body having gone colder than the void of space. “So you're to kill me, then?”

“Unnecessary. The Alliance will deal with you.”

“I will tell them everything—about you, about the Nemesis organization! Without your veil of secrecy, the Alliance will destroy you all!”

“Oh, I doubt that. You know nothing beyond the scope of this operation. Your peers will dismiss your wild tales as nothing more than the fabrication of a desperate man trying to escape punishment.” The mysterious agent's eyes went as cold as a viper's. “The Alliance frowns upon such things quite strongly, do they not?”

Wolff fumed silently. Lindy turned toward the door and started to walk away. “I suggest you return to your flagship and prepare yourself for what is to come.”

The door shut behind her. Wolff's shoulders slumped as the enormity of the betrayal began to sink in. His anger cooled rapidly, leaving his face ashen and his mind reeling. There was nothing he could do; Meyers had undoubtedly altered data and fabricated records to drop the blame squarely on his shoulders.

She was right; the Alliance would not believe him even if he told his peers what little he knew about the Nemesis organization. They had been roused to action by Nera Thomas and they were out for blood. With Meyers' departure, his would be the only available to shed. The Alliance would never know for sure that the hollow justice they extracted from him would be incomplete.

Wolff retrieved his coffee mug and finished the beverage; it had long since gone cold, but his throat felt raw. His midsection throbbed from the blow Lindy had dealt him, but at least he could breathe again. That would likely be the last bit of comfort he could expect.

The disgraced admiral walked out of the conference room and into the corridor leading to the shuttle bay. Fleet maintained a number of in-system short range shuttles in various locations on the colony. The dock was small and had only five cradles, one of which was currently empty. Two shuttles were secured with docking clamps; they were kept fueled and ready to go within fifteen minutes.

A marine guard stood at the entrance to the shuttle bay. He saluted when he saw Admiral Wolff emerge from the conference room. Wolff returned the salute and managed as kindly a smile as he could.

“Admiral Wolff! This is an unexpected surprise!”

The admiral let the marine's praise seep into his mind. He felt as if he were gaining strength from the recognition of his rank and authority. “Thank you, Corporal. At ease.”

“What brings you to this shuttle port, Admiral?”

“Prep a shuttle for transport to the Indomitable,” Wolff ordered. “I'll be leaving the colony immediately.”

“Right away,” the marine said as he sat back at his console and entered several commands into the system. The Fleet shuttle port was almost totally automated and contained five small transport shuttles. The little ships were only about the size of two Archer-class fighters stacked on top of each other, designed to carry six to ten passengers short distances.

Wolff walked into the break room. The shuttle port operated with a staff of only twelve people, most of whom were maintenance techs. A woman stood in the break room wearing an Alliance Fleet uniform and the bars of a lieutenant, likely the duty officer. She turned from her task of making a pot of coffee and her eyes widened as she recognized Wolff.

“Admiral Wolff! I wasn't informed that you were here; my apologies,” the woman said as she stood straight and saluted. Wolff nodded absently and returned the salute.

“Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. I traveled to the colony for a confidential meeting; of course you wouldn't have heard about it. Don't fret; I will be out of your hair as soon as my shuttle's been prepped.”

The woman smiled politely. “Would you like some coffee, Admiral?”

“Yes, thank you,” Wolff agreed. The female officer turned and fiddled with the coffee maker for a few minutes while Wolff stared out at the maintenance worker performing the pre-flight checks on the shuttle. A moment later the lieutenant returned bearing a glass mug filled with steaming dark brew.

“Here you are, Admiral.”

The admiral gratefully accepted the offered drink and sipped it slowly, staring out through the transparent window to the shuttle bay itself. Support automatons swarmed over his shuttle, connecting thick fuel lines, filling the storage tanks with helium-3, checking the weapons and other systems to make sure everything was in perfect working order.

The Gray were technologically superior to humanity. There would only be one way to decisively finish the war—to turn that advantage against them. Wolff had made a deal with the devil to accomplish this feat, but the incompetent Nemesis agent failed her mission and dumped the blame squarely on his shoulders.

The admiral's lip twisted in a grimace. It was over. The best he could do was to destroy the lab and smooth the ruffled feathers of Alliance Command. Nera had overstepped her bounds, after all, and Lindy Meyers would be unable to pin anything conclusive on him once the facility was destroyed. It would be many years before his fellows would no longer look upon him suspiciously, but he would survive and thrive.

The lieutenant returned. “Admiral, your shuttle is ready for launch.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you require a pilot?”

“No, I can fly the shuttle myself,” Wolff assured her. “Well before you were even born, Lieutenant, I was once a tender pilot in the RSC. It's nice to spend a little time in the cockpit every now and then.”

“Then I wish you a safe trip, Admiral.”

Wolff set his empty mug down and headed for an open-air lift that would take him up to the docking cradle and the vessel's boarding hatch. With a hiss of released gas, the lift began to ascend slowly. The admiral stepped off the elevator before it even stopped rising, quickly passing through the shuttle's passenger section.

The interior of the shuttle's command module was dim save for the glow of the instrument panels and holographic display projections. Wolff took his seat in the pilot's station, letting his body relax slightly. The plan may have failed, but he was not the type to give in easily. The Alliance still needed his guidance to defeat the Gray. They would overlook his sins in exchange for more victories against the enemy. His contingency would ensure that he would be able to continue fighting.

“Admiral Wolff, departing shuttle bay. Retract boarding plank.” Wolff glanced at his navigation display as it began to chime softly, notifying him that the boarding plank had retracted, the docking clamps were disengaged and the vessel was free.

Grasping the control stick in one hand and the throttle assembly in the other, Wolff tapped the maneuvering pedals and carefully took the craft up. The shuttle bay doors began to open slowly, revealing the black void beyond. Out there was his flagship dreadnought, the Indomitable, waiting patiently for his return.

The transport shuttle smoothly passed through the curtain barrier. Wolff shoved the throttle to its stops and the vessel responded immediately. The shuttle's star drives flared to life, sending the armored starship rocketing out into space. The admiral opened a secure comm channel to his flagship.

“Indomitable, this is Admiral Wolff. I'm returning to the ship on Alliance Shuttle FZ873. Transmitting IFF authorization now.”

“Admiral, this is Indomitable speaking,” the voice of his comm officer came back over the line. “IFF tag confirmed and authorized. You may proceed to dock.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Wolff replied.

“Welcome back to the Indomitable, Admiral.”

Wolff sighed and closed off the comm channel. He stared at the console for a long moment before entering a long series of commands. The navigational display chimed twice as the ship's automatic docking procedures took over.

Wolff leaned back in the cushioned pilot's seat, withdrawing a nondescript comm handset—not his Alliance-issue TCC—from a hidden inner pocket. He brought the device out of standby and entered a complex code. After the password was accepted, the biometric scanner built into the touchscreen confirmed his identity.

“Silent auto-purge sequence initiated,” a computerized voice said. “Please confirm and authorize activation.”

“Admiral Steven Wolff, activation code seven-zero-nine-six-alpha-zeta-zero.”

“Authorization accepted,” the voice responded. “Purge commencing; five minutes until detonation.”

15

Rin felt a strange sensation pass through her consciousness. She had no idea how she knew, but something was very, very wrong. That unshakable sense of anxiety fueled her actions, spurring her to move faster. Burdened by the barely-conscious Alisa in her arms, she made her way back in the warehouse block, the Alliance deep-storage facility dozens of meters beneath her feet. The misappropriated Fleet inter-colony transport still sat atop the landing pad—apparently the false IID agents had departed via other means. This would be as good a method of escape as any, Rin thought.

Alisa's breathing had become more shallow and labored; Rin's brow furrowed in concern. The stims had only helped so much. Even if Rin had more to inject, she ran the risk of worsening Alisa's condition. Any more and the risk of overdose became very real. The possibility of her partner's death never touched Rin's thoughts, however.

“I don't care if I have to move this colony out of solar orbit with my bare hands, you aren't going to die today, love.”

“Die? Who's going to die?” Alisa frowned, then glanced at Rin with the hazy, dreamy eyes of the heavily medicated and giggled.

“Nobody's going to die,” Rin assured her.

“That's good. Dying isn't good. It's actually really… pretty bad. Lindy died and then she came back as an evil ghost and shot me. Isn't that awful? What if I came back as an evil ghost and did something bad, too?”

“Don't worry. You won't become an evil ghost, Alisa.” Rin winced and tried not to think too hard about what had happened. “Are you in any pain?”

“No. I just feel really, really… fluffy,” Alisa announced. She giggled softly and pointed up at the artificial sky. “Like, really fluffy. Like a fluffy cloud.”

“Hold on a bit longer, love.” Rin forced a smile that she didn't feel. “I'm going to set you down for a minute while I get this transport open. It might hurt some.”

“Don't hurt me.”

“I'll try my best not to.”

Rin's original warning proved to be accurate. As she bent down and slid Alisa's body from her arms as carefully as she could, the woman groaned in agony as her weight pressed on the bloody holes in her back and thigh. She gave her counterpart a worried glance, but Alisa looked up at her with dreamy eyes.

“That hurt,” she pouted.

“I'm sorry, love, but I need to get the door open. I'll be just a minute.”

“Okay.”

Rin stood up and turned to the transport. The systems were cold, but the main computer was still powered on, albeit in standby. Her eyes flickered briefly as she sent an override signal to the vehicle's low-level background systems. One of the car's diagnostic ports popped open, revealing a small console.

“This might take a bit,” Rin said as she set to work.

“That's okay. I'm looking up at the fake clouds. They're fluffy. But not as fluffy as my head.”

Rin suppressed a smile as she worked, tapping in long strings of low-level diagnostic code, attempting to bring the computer out of standby and open the boarding hatch. The console emitted a double chime as the system responded to her commands.

The boarding hatch opened and swung down. Rin turned back to Alisa and picked her up as carefully as she could. Alisa didn't seem to be in any pain, her horrific injuries insulated from her awareness by the potent painkillers. She stared up at Rin with undisguised adoration.

“I love you. A whole lot. Did you know that?”

“I know. I love you, too. Let's get into the car, okay?”

Rin carried Alisa's semi-limp form up the boarding ramp and set her down on the bench seat, strapping her in as best she could. There wasn't any way Alisa would be able to sit up. Her injuries were just too severe and the painkillers in the combat stims had a marked negative effect on her motor control.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.” Alisa let out a drunken giggle. “Fuzzy fluffy okay.”

Rin dropped into the pilot's seat and started powering the systems up. The repulsion panels lit immediately, forcing the craft off the tarmac and into the air. She took hold of the controls and tapped the maneuvering pedals, sending them into a rapid ascent.

The navigational display began to whoop insistently at her. Rin glanced at it and frowned. There had been a huge power surge and explosion in the deep-storage unit they'd just escaped. The detonation was easily enough to send tremors rumbling through the superstructure nearby.

“We're getting out of here,” Rin muttered, jamming the throttle against its stops. She tried her best not to worry about Sara and Faris and focused on her more immediate task.

The transport rocketed forward, accelerating madly away from the supply dump. She smoothly merged into the assigned air lanes. The traffic was thick with maintenance vehicles, ACS patrol cars and various other Alliance vehicles on official business. Rin quickly accessed the transport's computer and activated the emergency siren.

The beacon mounted dorsally started to flash wildly and a loud siren sounded, pulsing from external speakers as well as sent across the wide-cast. Rin smiled in satisfaction as the other skycars began to merge into auxiliary lanes to allow her room to pass.

Rin sent the little Fleet transport careening through the air, piloting the car as carefully as she dared without reducing her speed. The proximity sensors started to set off alarms in the cockpit, but she paid them no mind. The transport barely missed colliding with a colony services car by scarcely more than a few centimeters.

There were medical bays in every block on Sirius Colony and A Block was no exception. An Alliance Fleet medical bay was positioned a few kilometers from the spaceport, a short flight from the supply dump. Rin aimed the car's nose directly at the hospital, ignoring traffic lanes and laws. She had to wrench the stick hard several times to avoid a collision. The ACS patrols ignored her; as long as she didn't hit anyone, the siren would exempt her from their ire. She glanced out the viewport as the hospital building loomed before her.

Rin cut thrust slightly and slowed the craft, redirecting energy into the maneuvering thrusters. The little car shot straight up toward the emergency landing pads; Rin expertly set it down before cutting off the siren and dropping the boarding ramp.

A group of medical technicians ran out onto the landing pad. Rin pulled herself out of the pilot's seat and vaulted over the bench seats, her feet already running as she hit the ramp. A med-tech gave her a bewildered stare as she came running out, her arms and chest stained with drying blood.

“Get her out of there!” Rin thundered. “She's been shot multiple times and needs medical attention, now!”

The med-techs hesitated, but Rin would have none of that. She grabbed one of them by the wrist and jerked him none-too-gently up the boarding ramp and toward Alisa, who lay on the bench seat, staring up at the ceiling.

“Oh, hi,” she said sweetly, turning her head with exaggerated slowness to gaze at the newcomer. “Who are you?”

The medics needed no further prodding. The man Rin had nearly thrown into the boarding ramp turned to his companions and started barking orders, yelling for a repulsion stretcher and emergency supplies.

“She's been injected with stims,” Rin warned them.

“Don't worry,” the tech assured her. “We'll get her in right away. Are there any special considerations we should be aware of?”

“A Class-8 neural implant. She's also had cellular regeneration treatments and active helper nanites,” Rin explained.

The med tech raised an eyebrow. “A linker pilot?”

“Yes.”

“We'll take good care of her, don't you worry. What's her name?”

“Alisa Pierce.” Rin's honesty was more a matter of inevitability. They would eventually find out who she was regardless of any false names she chose to invent. Rin braced herself for the shocked recognition in the man's eyes. It never came; apparently the hunt for the fugitives had been kept quiet and off the mainstream media reports.

“You want us to patch up that hole in your shoulder?”

“What? Oh, that.” Rin glanced at the damaged flesh on her arm. The wound had already begun to build up a protective scab layer, the synthetic fluid clotting similarly to human blood. “It's not serious. In a few weeks it'll heal on its own.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” the tech scoffed as his companions hoisted Alisa up onto the repulsion stretcher. The med-techs ran out, pushing the occupied stretcher as fast as they deemed prudent.

“It's really not necessary,” Rin protested, but the med tech wouldn't take no for an answer.

“Don't worry, miss. We've got qualified cybernetics specialists on staff—we can get the damage to your prosthetic fixed right up. If you don't, there's a high chance you'll get an infection and it might malfunction.”

“I'm not—” Rin stopped, unwilling to push the issue any further. “Fine, just do what you need to do.”

“You can walk fine, so just follow me. I'll get you two checked in. Don't worry about the paperwork—we can take care of all that later on when she's feeling better.”

[-]

The transport shuttle slid into the Indomitable's docking bay, shuddering only slightly as the heavy docking clamps engaged around it. A catwalk extended from the raised walkway and made contact with the shuttle just below the primary boarding hatch.

Wolff unfastened his crash harness and got out of the pilot's seat, heading toward the open hatch. He stepped out onto the catwalk, catching sight of the deck officer. The woman waited at attention, standing on the edge of the walkway near the catwalk.

“Welcome back, Admiral.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. It's good to be back.”

“Shall I program the shuttle's navigation system to return to Sirius Colony?”

The admiral nodded. “Please do.”

“It will be done, Admiral.”

Wolff strode down the walkway, headed for the lift doors mounted in the far wall of the docking bay. The Indomitable, like the Retribution and the other dreadnoughts in the Alliance Fleet, possessed multiple docking bays. This particular dock was the smallest of them all, meant for ferrying officers and VIPs from ship to ship. The secure-access lift would give him direct access to the bridge.

Wolff tapped his fingertips against the door panel and stepped into the lift. The small cylindrical chamber began to rise quickly, heading directly for A Deck and the bridge. The ride was short as the shuttle bays were situated midway through the vessel's superstructure. The lift doors opened silently and Wolff stepped out into the bridge. His officers all stood and saluted, welcoming him home.

“Good to see you back, Admiral,” his executive officer said, the man's jovial tone sounding slightly forced, but Wolff paid it no mind.

“It's good to be back.” Wolff shook the man's hand. Despite the rank difference between the two, they were old friends and Wolff rarely, if ever, forced his XO to stand on ceremony.

“Your orders, Admiral?”

“Make preparations for departure,” the admiral said after a moment. “I'd like to head to Eden Colony immediately. I have some business with Alliance Command that needs to be dealt with as soon as possible.”

“Of course.”

Wolff strode to his captain's chair and sunk into the plushly-appointed seat, the rare real leather upholstery soft and warm against his weary body. He had not sat down for more than a few moments, however, before his communications officer came walking up to him.

“Admiral, you've received an encrypted transmission. It's flagged as urgent.”

“Of course it is. It always is.” Wolff's tone was laced with annoyance. “I'll take it in my ready room. Patch it through for me.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Wolff stood back up, feeling his muscles protest. The stress of the past few weeks had finally started catching up to him—he felt genuinely exhausted like he had never felt before in all his one hundred sixty years of life. Even with cellular regeneration treatments and the use of helper nanites maintaining his body at peak physical condition, his mind still felt the weight of years press down on it.

No matter how advanced medical technology became, death would always be an eventual reality. Over the years, the mind would eventually start to fade even while the body remained healthy. Not that Wolff was especially close to entering the void—he suspected he had at least another four or five decades of life left, but the stresses of his position still wore upon him.

The failure of the plan had done more than that. Uncertainty filled his mind; even though he knew his personal contingencies had went off without a hitch, he was still concerned. He had badly underestimated the Pierce girl and her AI operator—and had trusted that wretched Nemesis agent far too much.

Wolff calmed his thoughts. There would be another opportunity. He merely had to wait for the right moment. With the data he'd obtained from Nemesis, he felt it would be a simple matter to match the mysterious organization's progress through Section Zero.

If I can remove Nera Thomas from the equation, Section Zero's mission will fall to me. Pleasant thoughts, but Wolff knew now wasn't the time. He had to engage in damage control. The admiral's ambitions relied upon his continued freedom, of course.

Wolff tapped his fingers against the door panel leading to his ready room. The interior was completely dark, but this was normal—the lights would come back on the moment he walked inside. The admiral stepped through the threshold and the door slid shut behind him.

The lights did not turn on. Wolff frowned, feeling an indignant irritation rise in his thoughts. It was inexcusable; the maintenance officer wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after he got done chewing the man a new—

“Welcome home, Admiral.” That familiar warm alto shattered Wolff's angry mental tirade as if it were fragile glass.

The lights came on and for the first time Wolff realized he was not alone in his own ready room. Admiral Nera Thomas stood before him. Beside her stood General Samuels, the flag officer of the Alliance Marines staring at him with undisguised disgust. Behind the two flag officers, almost as afterthoughts, stood two men—a slender ASC pilot with commander's bars and a thin, short man in the blue dress uniform of the Internal Investigation Division.

“I'd dearly love to know what in the hell you four are doing on my ship, much less my ready room,” Wolff stated, his voice taking on a threatening edge.

“Why did you do it, Steven?” General Samuels demanded, ignoring the pleasantries and going directly for the kill. “What in the cold, empty void possessed you to think this was a good idea, that you'd even get away with such a thing?”

Wolff's expression was wooden. “I don't know what you're talking about, General.”

“Nonsense.” Nera scowled at her colleague. “Admiral, we wouldn't be in your ready room like this if we didn't have enough evidence to bury you up to your neck. We know everything about your little internal coup.”

“You know nothing but clever lies,” Wolff spat.

General Samuels glared harshly at his counterpart in the Fleet. “Shut the fuck up, Steven, before I shut you up myself.”

The admiral fell silent.

“Let's get the introductions out of the way first, shall we?” Nera's voice was much more calm than the marine general's. “You already know General Samuels and myself. These two gentlemen, however…”

The Fleet pilot nodded to Admiral Thomas and turned toward Wolff. “Commander Andrew Isaacs, 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing, Alliance Fleet Advanced Starfighter Corps.”

“Ah, and I'm Captain Moran, with the Internal Investigation Division.”

Of the four uninvited guests, Wolff noted, the IID man seemed to be the most nervous and out of place. He supposed it wasn't every day that a law-enforcement officer was called to perform a theatrical and outrageous arrest such as this.

Admiral Thomas smiled. “Now that we've all been introduced—”

“This will never stand up in a court-martial,” Wolff interrupted. “Nothing you have on me proves anything at all. You're making a huge mistake.”

“Don't try my patience, Steven,” Samuels growled.

“If I'm guilty of anything, it's trying to advance humanity and the Alliance! We are lagging behind the Gray—we need an edge if we're ever going to end this war!”

“That doesn't give you the right to do as you please,” Nera retorted. “My project was authorized and approved by a convocation of High Command and the Administrative Council. If you didn't agree with my methods, you should have brought out your objections to the negotiating table.”

“Don't do this, Nera,” Wolff warned her. “Your absurd attempt to slander my character will yield you nothing but the scorn of our peers. The Administrative Council will—”

“Quit your posturing, Steven. It's embarrassing,” Samuels cut him off. The marine general took a step closer to Wolff, looming over the Fleet flag officer. “The Director of Intelligence Operations doesn't answer to you.”

Wolff scoffed. “I will not be intimidated by you, old friend.”

“I don't need you to be intimidated,” Nera interjected. “I have all the evidence I need to make sure you'll spend the rest of your life in a military prison.”

“You're bluffing.” Wolff tried his best to sound confident, but privately he wondered just how much damning information the Nemesis agent actually managed to leak.

“Am I?” Nera shook her head slowly and turned toward the IID agent. “Captain Moran, please show the admiral why he is, in fact, doomed.”

The thin man nodded and entered a series of commands into the desk console, causing several large holo displays to appear above the desk. Information began to scroll across the projections, much of it pertaining to the 703's maintenance logs.

“Evidence gathered from the Lancer-class heavy fighters suggest that there was unauthorized access to a diagnostic port after Lieutenant Moore signed off on the pre-flight checks,” Moran said, his voice slowly gaining strength as he presented the case against the traitorous admiral. “Lancers Delta Lead and Delta Four recorded a ventral aft diagnostic port access within a few minutes of each other.”

Wolff bristled. “If you think that proves anything—”

“Shut up and listen,” Samuels cut him off.

“Anyway, both diagnostic port clears were performed by the same maintenance tech, a Specialist Martin Lee. These clears weren't authorized by the Infiltrator's maintenance chief, Lieutenant Karen Moore.” Moran cleared his throat and coughed lightly. “Specialist Lee made several unauthorized modifications to control systems via the diagnostic ports. The results were different on each vessel. On Lieutenant-Commander Pierce's fighter, the heavy linear cannon's control firmware was subjected to a virus attack that fed corrupted data to the weapon's suspended field mechanism. This resulted in significant, unpredictable aim point drift.”

“So Alisa's shot missed when it shouldn't have,” Isaacs observed.

“The weapon would continue to drift, making accurate fire nearly impossible without an intimate knowledge of the algorithms used by the virus. That Lieutenant-Commander Pierce managed to partially compensate and hit anything at all during that battle is incredible.”

“What about the other Lancer?” Nera prompted, casting a sidelong glare at Wolff.

“The other vessel, Flight Officer Lindy Meyers' Lancer, was maliciously tampered with in a different manner. The antimatter furnace was given instructions to activate during the battle—very dangerous in its own right, but it was exacerbated by the sequential deactivation of each of the furnace's moderator systems. Put simply, the sabotage effectively converted Delta Four's starfighter into an unstable antimatter bomb.”

“As a result, Flight Officer Meyers was killed in action,” Nera concluded.

Wolff said nothing. Of course, they had no idea that Lindy Meyers had not only survived, but that the “sabotage” of her starfighter was her own doing. Her apparent death had merely been part of the plan to snatch Alisa Pierce from the Alliance's grasp.

“The evidence shows that both ships were sabotaged by Martin Lee,” Moran went on. “When Admiral Thomas notified us of the crime, we immediately brought Specialist Lee into custody. During interrogation by the IID, Specialist Lee admitted to performing acts of sabotage on Alliance equipment, sabotage that directly resulted in the death of Flight Officer Meyers. Here is Lee's full confession.”

Moran tapped a few commands into the screen and focused on one particular window, pulling the image up where everyone could read it.

“Lee admitted that he had been paid fifty thousand credits for three separate tasks on board the Infiltrator. Two of these we already discussed—the sabotage of the two Lancer-class starfighters assigned to Deltas Lead and Four.”

“And the third?” Isaacs inquired.

“Happened shortly after the mission's failure,” Moran clarified. “Specialist Lee broke into the 703's after-action logs and made complete copies from the most recent reports. These copies were anonymously forwarded to Governor Meyers shortly after his daughter was reported KIA.”

Isaacs's eyebrows rose fractionally. “It was Lee who did that?”

“Yes—he confessed to all three criminal acts,” Moran said. “Unfortunately, Lee didn't know who had paid him and provided him with the access codes necessary to obtain the mission logs. Lee was contacted through secure channels. Names were never used. The money was funneled through several shell companies, but it wasn't an expert job. It didn't take me very long to track down the source.”

Moran tapped another command into the console and a flowchart materialized on the display plane. Using a small laser pointer, the IID agent continued his explanation of the evidence.

“Through three holding companies and a bank, the source of the funds traces back fairly easily to Regulus Financial, a private investment and trading front owned and operated by one Lionel W. Foss—a rather clumsy alias that quickly pointed toward Admiral Steven Wolff.”

Wolff visibly paled. It was now abundantly clear just how thoroughly the Nemesis agent had orchestrated his demise. In truth, Regulus Financial was harmless—nothing more than Wolff's retirement plan, a legitimate trading company he'd started in his spare time to ensure his twilight years would be comfortable.

The admiral suspected this was Meyers' idea of a cruel joke.

“Would you look at that.” Nera's voice was voice darkly amused. She turned to regard Wolff, who was staring wide-eyed at the holographic display. The evidence—all the logs and data Alisa and Rin had collected, were detailed precisely on the screen.  The financial backtracking Captain Moran had done was clearly displayed beside it.

“This is a lie,” Wolff protested, refusing to yield. “It's completely fabricated—Command will never accept this. Your thinly-veiled attempt to usurp my position will not go unpunished, Admiral Thomas.”

“I've had just about enough of your bluster and threats,” Samuels rumbled.

The marine flag officer took two steps toward Wolff, balled one of his massive hands into a fist, and drove the hammer of flesh and bone hard into Wolff's jaw, a vicious right hook that sent the admiral spinning around and crashing into the deck.

“You're an officer of the Alliance—a flag officer, damn it! Take responsibility for your actions. You need to make this right, Steven.”

Admiral Wolff slowly got to his feet, the man's blue eyes burning bright with impotent rage. He mentally damned Pierce and her cursed AI operator. Railed against Lindy Meyers who had used him, used the Alliance and would continue to use them.

“Besides,” Nera added, “we also have this.”

The admiral nodded to Moran, who tapped another command into the console, bringing up a video feed. Wolff watched, entranced and horrified, as he saw his own form as he and his collaborators, the Internal Investigation agent Baldwin and his partner, forced Alisa into a makeshift holding cell at gunpoint.

“This is a snippet of footage that Rin found while she was in the deep-storage facility's security office. She thought it was interesting. It is quite interesting, don't you think?”

“Impossible—they'll never accept it,” Wolff said through a split lip. “I have proof that Pierce's AI operator is unfettered! It is a rogue element and could have fabricated that recording! It'll be deemed inadmissible once the tribunal learns its behavior blocks were omitted deliberately!”

“I don't think so,” Nera countered. “There are plenty of people willing to vouch for Rin's integrity. The remainder of our peers in High Command won't have a problem accepting her testimony and sensor record evidence.”

Commander Isaacs weighed in. “I vouch for Rin. Her contribution to the war effort has been significant and undeniable. More than one pilot in the 703 wouldn't be alive today, if not for her.”

“As do I,” Nera added.

“The rest of Command won't take your word for it—the both of you are emotionally involved with Alisa Pierce,” Wolff argued, feebly attempting to find a way out. “Who's to say you aren't both lying and you're in collusion with a rogue AI?”

Samuels looked as if he might punch Admiral Wolff again, but Nera raised a hand to stop him.

“It's over, Admiral.” Nera turned to the IID man. “Captain Moran, it's your turn.”

Moran nodded and deftly slipped a pair of stun cuffs from a pouch on his belt, unfolding the restraint with his right hand.

“Admiral Steven Wolff, you are hereby placed under arrest. Please place your hands on your head and turn around to accept restraints.”

Wolff narrowed his eyes as Moran's left hand dropped to his thigh holster and drew a standard-issue heavy linear accelerator pistol. The Internal Investigation agent lifted his gun arm and aimed the weapon directly at Admiral Wolff.

“You're going to cuff me?” Wolff gasped, his voice disbelieving. “On my own ship?”

Moran shrugged. “Nowhere in the regulations does it say I can't cuff a suspect, no matter where they happen to be.”

“I'm a flag officer of the Alliance! I'm a member of Alliance High Command! I can't be arrested like… like a common criminal! I demand to be treated as my rank and position dictates.”

“You want to be treated like an officer, you better start acting like one,” Samuels snapped. “Damn it, Steven, own up to your misguided actions and accept your punishment. For the good of humanity.”

Wolff nodded slowly. Nemesis used him, discarded him when they no longer needed him. Trusting that mysterious organization had been a mistake, the largest mistake he'd ever made. He had erred and erred badly. It was astonishingly clear to Wolff now, and he knew what he had to do—there were no other options left to him.

With a lightning-fast move, the admiral pulled the emergency hold-out pistol from his jacket and shoved the barrel hard against the underside of his chin. Moran's eyes went wide as he held his weapon trained on the man, but clearly the threat of death would have no effect on the fallen admiral. Death was the escape he sought.

The IID agent's gun hand trembled very slightly as he moved forward, brandishing his own weapon. “Drop it!”

“No. I have failed to save humanity, and this is my atonement.” Wolff's fingers twitched, caressing lightly against the trigger. All he would have to do was tighten his grip and it would all be over. All the betrayals and the torment would evaporate into oblivion.

But the weapon never fired.

A huge hand shot out with the speed of a striking snake. General Samuels caught and gripped Wolff's wrist, the former front-line marine easily wrenching the barrel safely away. The general's grip was so forceful the bones cracked under the immense pressure. Wolff felt his hand go completely numb, the pistol falling to the floor with a clatter.

The marine general pivoted on his hips and swung his left fist, catching his old friend squarely in the midsection. Wolff's breath was blown out of him violently and the man collapsed to the deck, wheezing and gasping. Intense agony radiated from the twice-inflicted injury.

“I thought you were a better person than this, Steven.” Samuels sounded almost sad. “I hoped you were.”

“I… wanted to… make humanity strong,” Wolff wheezed. “You understood… understood that we needed to evolve, to stop relying on abominations like artificial intelligences—”

“You didn't understand at all,” Samuels rumbled. “It's true that I disapprove of how much we rely on artificial intelligence systems to fight on even ground with the Gray. I don't trust them—they're not human, they've got to have different goals than the rest of us. I can't understand machine intelligences and that lack of understanding frightens me.”

Wolff only stared at the man helplessly, nursing his broken wrist and trying vainly to regain the breath knocked out of him.

“That doesn't mean I hate them, or consider them 'abominations.' It also doesn't mean one of them hasn't earned my trust and respect.”

“Does that mean you'll vouch for the veracity of Rin's evidence?” Nera inquired.

“That's correct, Admiral Thomas,” Samuels said, ignoring her sharp tone. “I will speak for Rin to the rest of High Command.”

Wolff gasped for air as Moran walked around behind him, pulling the man's arms around and cuffing them securely. He connected the lead from the cuffs to the remote and helped Wolff back to his feet. “I'll take Admiral Wolff from here. IID will hold him temporarily at the ACS detention facility in D Block. I'll need a pilot to get back to Sirius Colony.”

“I'll fly you down,” Isaacs offered, a thin smile creeping onto his face. “I have my own business to attend to on the colony, so we can ride together.”

[-]

The shuttle Wolff had taken up to the Indomitable hadn't been recalled just yet, so Isaacs appropriated it from a bewildered deck officer. The poor lieutenant kept staring forlornly at her former commander, shocked and bewildered that such a decorated officer was being escorted off his own flagship in cuffs.

Isaacs had to admit that Wolff looked nothing like the strong, passionate man who had brought the Alliance some of its most decisive victories against the Gray. Instead he appeared to have collapsed in upon himself, his shoulders drooping and his expression utterly defeated.

The short flight back to Sirius was a quiet one. Wolff said nothing—Isaacs wouldn't have thought the man was even conscious if he hadn't seen him walk onto the ship under his own power. The former admiral's head was bowed, staring at the floor.

Isaacs expertly piloted the assault shuttle through the chaotic mess of traffic surrounding the ring colony, cutting through the civilian ships waiting for their turn to dock in the thousands of external modular docking bays. The rotation of the colony had placed their destination a fair distance away, but the shuttle was easily up to the task.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Moran noted.

“It's always fun to play around a bit.”

“An ACS transport should be there to meet me at the A Block spaceport. We'll take care of everything from here; I know you have important things on your mind.”

“That I do,” Isaacs agreed.

The assault shuttle sliced through the lines, cutting past several orderly formations of Alliance Fleet shuttles and smaller frigates waiting their turn in the queue. The comm display chimed, informing Isaacs of an incoming transmission.

“This is Commander Isaacs of the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing, on Alliance Transport Shuttle FZ873,” he said into the comm, not bothering to allow the ACS patrol to speak first. “I'm escorting Captain Moran of the IID and prisoner to A Block spaceport. Please clear us for emergency docking.”

“Authorization granted, Commander. Proceed to Shuttle Port A9.”

“Acknowledged, ACS Patrol,” Isaacs said, cutting off the comm. He nudged the stick over and sent the shuttle into a steep, smooth dive, lining the nose up with the auto-guidance system before engaging the docking protocols. The shuttle ports were nestled into the wide “gap” between the external docking bays attached to the underside of the ring colony.

Isaacs waited until the autopilot engaged and released the controls. “Come on, let's get going.”

The two officers and the prisoner stepped out onto the catwalk. Moran drew his pistol, holding the lead of the stun cuffs in his left hand as they calmly headed toward the walkway leading into the spaceport.

“I think I see your escort,” Isaacs said, pointing over at a collection of uniformed ACS officers standing patiently near one of the customs checkpoints.

“Ah, yes, thank you, Commander.” Moran saluted and smiled. “I'm sure we'll meet again before the trial.”

“Count on it. I owe you a beer at the very least.”

“I'll take you up on that offer, Commander.”

The commander grinned. “Enough of that Commander stuff—you don't work for me, after all. My friends call me Isaacs. Only my wife and her family call me Andrew.”

“And you may call me Basil,” the IID agent replied, his eyes twinkling slightly.

“Really? Basil?” Isaacs echoed, incredulous.

“It's a perfectly fine name,” Moran insisted, his tone sounding slightly miffed. “My great-grandfather's name, in fact. I was named for him.”

“All right, Basil. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Isaacs. It's been a pleasure working with you on this case. Please tell Miss Pierce that I wish her a speedy recovery.”

“I'll do that,” Isaacs promised.

The short IID man walked away without another word. Isaacs could just barely hear him giving instructions to the ACS officers gathered near the corner. One of the cops took the stun cuff lead and another drew his weapon, keeping the prisoner secured while Moran pulled out his TCC and started making a call.

Isaacs shook his head. Basil. He suddenly felt a great deal of warmth and affection that his own parents had named him Andrew, even though he'd never really been all that fond of it in the past.

“Compared to Basil, it's hard to find fault with it,” Isaacs mused aloud, chuckling to himself softly as he walked out of the spaceport. He pulled out his own TCC and dialed the Fleet concierge.

Within a few minutes a Fleet transport pulled up to the spaceport's landing pads, the boarding hatch lowering. Inside was a young man wearing a Fleet uniform and a brisk, businesslike look of efficiency about him.

“Where to, Commander?”

“The Fleet office in R Block,” Isaacs said as he slid into the seat. The corporal responded by sealing the boarding hatch, the repulsion panels activating and sending the car rising into the sky.

16

Rin stood motionless, staring through the viewing window into the operating room. Alisa's unconscious form lay upon a spotless white table. She looked peaceful and serene, but Rin had no illusions about how close her beloved partner had come to making her final trip into the void.

After a forty-eight hour session in a cellular regeneration tank, the maximum time permitted for a single treatment, Alisa's condition had stabilized enough for surgery and tissue repair. Rin remained at the hospital the entire time, staying as close to her as the doctors and nurses would tolerate. Alisa spent most of the past two days unconscious, but Rin stayed with her, watching over her and sending soothing emotions through the link they shared.

Now that she was no longer in danger of dying, the task of repairing her damaged tissues could begin in earnest. Several sterile white automated manipulators mounted to a medical table whirred and spun in perfect coordination. Each mechanical arm was mounted with a different sort of tool. She watched as the arms worked in perfect coordination, carefully removing the shattered impactor fragments from Alisa's damaged flesh.

It took the surgery automatons almost an hour to clear her wounds of debris; the impactors that struck Alisa were a particularly nasty type designed for maximum tissue damage. As Rin stood and watched, the arms all switched tools and tasks, now concentrating on cleaning and sterilizing. Prefabricated sections of synthetic skin was applied to the dressed wounds, the cutting arms trimming the edges and sealing them with tiny lasers.

Rin watched as a larger arm outfitted with a prehensile nozzle moved to tend to the worst wound, the shot that had blown through her body, damaging organs and destroying tissues. This automaton was fitted with a tissue fabricator, essentially “printing” new synthetic tissue structures to replace those that had been ruined by gunfire. Over time, Alisa's own cells would “claim” the synthetic flesh and scaffolding, integrating it into her body.

The reconstruction process took twice as long. Rin stood there, watching through the thick panes of transparent material, her gaze unwavering. Alisa's wounds were barely even visible, with only a slight difference in skin tone marking the spots where the synthetic skin patches had been applied. Within a few weeks, all evidence of the damage would vanish as if it had never been.

The door to the operating room unsealed and a pair of technicians walked in, a doctor following them closely behind. The doctor inspected the work of her machine and nodded in satisfaction after a few minutes. The glass was soundproof, but Rin was able to read the doctor's lips easily enough.

“Everything looks great here. Vitals are all perfect, the synthetic skin grafts are already integrating nicely, thanks to her helper nanites. Take her to a bed in Four for recovery.”

The surgical table disassembled itself and Alisa floated up on a lightweight repulsion stretcher. The two technicians carefully directed the stretcher through the open door, taking Alisa to the recovery ward.

Rin stood by the window, lost in her own thoughts for a long while. The strange human-seeming thoughts were much more difficult for her to sort through, especially compared to simple mathematical calculations.

“I figured I'd find you here,” a familiar gravelly voice came from behind. Rin turned around and smiled as she recognized Commander Isaacs, standing tall and proud in his full dress uniform, the blood-red beret of the Advanced Starfighter Corps perched atop his head.

“She just got out of surgery,” Rin explained. “The doctor had her taken to a recovery bed in Ward Four.”

“You think she'll be up for a little company?”

“I doubt she's awake yet,” Rin pointed out.

“We'll never know if we don't go check. Come on, let's go see how she's doing.”

The two walked out of the observation room in silence. The hospital's layout was confusing, but Rin had already downloaded a copy of the building's floor plans and knew exactly where to go. She led Isaacs unerringly through the maze-like hallways, avoiding nurses and orderlies pushing various patients, most of them Fleet personnel, through the corridors.

“Ward Four is here,” Rin said, tugging on Isaac's wrist and pulling him along with a speed that could be considered a little desperate. The commander could hardly blame her, what with all that had happened.

The recovery ward was a wide-open room with a different design than much of the rest of the medical bay. The omnipresent sterile white of the hospital gave way to dark laminate flooring that resembled wood panels; the walls were painted a pastel green and the ceiling was a gentle off-white. The color scheme had been selected for its relaxing qualities.

Alisa lay in one of the nearest beds, freshly dressed in a pale blue hospital gown. Her hair had been washed and brushed out, the reddish-brown curls cascading down well past her shoulders—she hadn't had much of a chance to cut it during their weeks on the run.

Rin walked beside her bed and took one of Alisa's hands into her own. She squeezed the hand gently; it was warm and soft, the pulse throbbing strongly in Alisa's wrist.

“She's still asleep; maybe we should come back later,” Isaacs whispered.

Alisa's eyes fluttered open and she blinked a few times. She yawned cavernously, straightening her shoulders and turning her gaze on Isaacs, then on Rin. Her lips curved into a dreamy smile.

“Oh, hi,” she murmured.

“How are you feeling?” Isaacs asked.

“Like my head has been packed full of expansion foam,” Alisa replied, blinking her eyes a few times to clear the haze from her vision. “I didn't expect to have visitors so soon.”

Isaacs chuckled. “Rin was here the whole time, watching over you.”

“I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else,” Rin added.

“Thank you.”

“I was so worried about you!” Rin's violet eyes shone wetly under the soft lighting. “I was so scared you were going to die when I saw you like that—”

“I know you were, love,” Alisa interrupted, patting the hand that held her own. She reached up and wiped at Rin's eyes with a slender fingertip, brushing the tears away before they'd truly formed.

The commander cleared his throat. “Sorry to take away from your time together, but I have a number of things to discuss with the both of you. We got Wolff. He's in IID custody right now.”

“He didn't escape?”

“No. After the fighting in the deep-storage unit was over, he somehow made it to a Fleet shuttle port and returned to the Indomitable. Admiral Thomas, General Samuels and I were waiting for him there, along with that IID man, Moran.”

Alisa frowned. “They found the link between the saboteur and Admiral Wolff?”

“Yeah,” Isaacs confirmed. “Hearing that guy talk about it you'd think it was the easiest thing in the world, but I hear he spent pretty much every waking hour between then and now trying to sift the data.”

“General Samuels was there?” Alisa's voice rose sharply with incredulity. “That's the last person I'd expect to try and defend Rin and me.”

“Apparently Rin's determination and initiative impressed him enough to overcome his biases, at least partially,” Isaacs explained. “He's still concerned about Rin's 'unique' status—just between the three of us, I hear he blistered Admiral Thomas's ears until they turned purple—but he agreed to keep quiet about it.”

Alisa tapped a finger against her chin. “Interesting.”

“Admiral Thomas and Captain Moran really laid it on Wolff, pretty much letting him know he had no good way out of the mess he'd gotten himself into and he ought to surrender peacefully. Instead he tried to fall on his sword right there in front of us. General Samuels intervened.”

“Good for him,” Alisa put in. “Wolff doesn't deserve the easy way out. He betrayed the Alliance and murdered Lindy—” Alisa caught herself mid-sentence. Something wasn't right about that. Her memory was fuzzy, but there was something odd there. “That's strange. I must've been more drugged up from the stims than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” Isaacs inquired.

“My memory might not have been unaffected by my injuries, Commander. I mean, Wolff was the person who shot me, right? That's what happened. Then… why do I remember being shot by someone who should be dead?”

Rin and Isaacs looked at each other and then back to Alisa. The stress, the injuries and the potent painkillers in the stims had conspired to mangle her memories. Rin felt lucky Alisa's memories of being shot were the only things that slipped away from her.

“Not now, love,” Rin murmured, keeping her voice low. This place isn't secure. I'll explain everything later. Alisa shot Rin a confused look, but Isaacs placed his large hand on her forearm and squeezed reassuringly.

“The admiral will be charged with everything they can throw at him—murder, kidnapping, assault, conspiracy, sabotage, fraud, misappropriating military funds and I hear they're even considering adding treason to the list of charges.”

Alisa frowned. “They're really throwing the book at him.”

“High Command is absolutely furious, Alisa. His attempt to usurp his rival's position caused tremendous amounts of highly-sensitive data to leak and has half the Administrative Council scrambling to leverage the scandal for political gain. We're not even sure of the extent of the damage yet, but we know it's bad.”

“They don't want him to get off easy, either,” Alisa reasoned.

“No, they don't.”

Rin leveled a cool gaze at the commander. “What about the negligence charges brought against Alisa?”

“Not to worry. Admiral Thomas and General Samuels took care of everything—with Captain Moran's help, she's in the clear. The charges have been dropped and all records of the case will be expunged.”

“That's some comfort, at least,” Rin said, but her expression was one of worry and uncertainty.

The commander's expression became clouded. “There's more. You're not going to like it. I sure as hell don't. I attempted to petition High Command on your behalf, but my request was denied unanimously.”

“What request?”

“I asked High Command that, in recognition of your distinguished service in the Fleet, you be promoted to Commander and given command over a newly-formed ASC wing, the 899th Hyperspace Assault Wing. High Command deliberated on the matter and decided that they do not feel you would serve the Alliance in the best capacity as a pilot in the Advanced Starfighter Corps.”

“I—what?” Alisa echoed, her voice filled with dismay. “High Command doesn't want me to fly anymore? Why in all the stars in the universe would Admiral Thomas vote to ground me?”

Isaacs shook his head and held up a hand before Rin could add an angry rejoinder. “It's not that they don't want you to fly anymore, Alisa. It's that right now, with this scandal raging across the Alliance, you and Rin are very politically dangerous.”

Alisa's expression told Isaacs exactly what she thought of that. “This is absolutely ridiculous! What are we supposed to do now? If High Command doesn't want me flying a Lancer, what do they want me to do? Fly a desk?”

“Worse,” Isaacs continued, his tone thick with disgust. “High Command doesn't just want to ground you. They want you to accept a medical discharge and leave the Fleet entirely.”

“WHAT?!”

“I tried my best to fight it, Alisa, I really did. There's just not much I can do here. They want to bury this thing as quickly as they can. You're getting caught in the crossfire and I'm sorry.” The commander paused for a moment. “In any case, after the petition hearing, Admiral Thomas called me in for a private meeting. She has some kind of offer for you. I don't know anything more than that; she told me that my security clearance wasn't high enough.”

Alisa's brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle out exactly what was happening. “Did she say anything else?”

“She ordered that you remain on Sirius Colony for the time being. You've been given an indefinite paid leave, retroactive, until the paperwork is finalized. Admiral Thomas will meet with you privately some time next week to discuss the particulars.”

Alisa glanced at Rin, worry clearly visible in her eyes. “What about Rin? What will the Alliance do with her if I'm to be discharged?”

“Officially, they intend to do nothing,” Isaacs told her, “and I mean that in the most literal sense possible. As far as the Alliance is concerned, the AI operator known as 'Rin' no longer exists. Instead, well… take a look at this.”

Isaacs reached into his uniform jacket pocket and withdrew a small envelope sealed with an official Alliance government seal. Alisa knew from the design that it wasn't from the Fleet, or any branch of the Alliance military, but the civilian government records office. The commander handed it to Rin.

“Open it.”

Rin did so, breaking the seal and peeling the envelope back to reveal its contents. Alisa felt an indescribable surge of emotion through the link between them at the exact same moment Rin's eyes began to well up.

“What is it, Rin?”

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she drew a small plastic card from the envelope and handed it to Alisa. The confused woman peered through the medicine haze and felt her own eyes start to sting as she instantly recognized it for what it was. With a quavering voice that threatened to collapse into quiet sobs, Alisa began to read aloud.

“Registered Alliance Citizen ID. Name: Rin Celestia. Citizen Registration Number: 7737-2121-4031-2000. Implant/augment Class 10. Date of birth 05-10-976.” She paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut as she processed the enormity of what Rin had been given. “That surname, the date of birth, it’s—”

Isaacs answered before she could finish. “Yeah. She’s being counted as a Star Child. It’ll make sure people are less likely to look deeper into things.”

“I can't believe this,” Alisa marveled as she stared at the ID card. She sniffled and wiped her own eyes, already blurry from the painkillers, and turned to Rin. The poor girl was utterly overwhelmed, waves of joy and relief and every other describable and indescribable positive emotion pouring off her in waves.

“This, too, is political,” Isaacs went on. “Rather than acknowledge Rin's status publicly or attempt to destroy or permanently deactivate her—”

“Over my dead body,” Alisa growled.

“—High Command decided that they would lean back on the politicians for a less extreme solution. Admiral Thomas buried them in data and convinced the Administrative Council to avoid another scandal by passing her off as one of the millions of children orphaned by the war—as a human citizen of the Alliance.”

Alisa's expression fell slightly. “What will happen if the truth comes out?”

“There isn't enough proof out there. Anyone who came out and made that claim publicly would be written off as a crackpot conspiracy theorist, right along with the people on Cygnus Station who spread a rumor that you were a cyborg pilot prototype about to go into mass-production.”

Alisa felt her cheeks heat up at the mention of that silly old gossip. “I didn't know you heard about that, too, Commander.”

“I think the whole Advanced Starfighter Corps knows about it.” Isaacs let out a belly-shaking laugh. “Rumor on the rumor is the RSC started it due to the rivalry between our two branches.”

“Maybe,” Alisa commented. Her expression sank after a moment as she realized that she would soon no longer be part of that world any more. She tried not to become upset; she wasn't the first person to have their lives completely knocked off course due to political concerns.

“That's all I came here to tell you, Alisa.” Isaacs straightened up and glanced at the door leading out of the recovery ward. “I have to get back to work. Rest up and heal up. I have a feeling I'm going to be stuck here on Sirius for a good deal longer until this mess has been sorted out.”

“We should get together and have lunch sometime,” Alisa suggested. “Since I'm going to be stuck here, too.”

“Agreed. My treat. I'll leave you two alone, then. See you soon.”

Alisa smiled weakly. “Thank you, Commander. If what the doctors say is true, I should be out of the hospital by tomorrow.” She turned to Rin and gave the girl a sympathetic look. Rin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Rin, you should go with the commander. Get out of this hospital for a while, get some fresh air.”

Rin shook her head. “I want to stay with you. Besides, I don't need fresh air. I don't even breathe air at all.”

“It's a figure of speech, give me a break. You've been cooped up in here for two whole days,” Alisa objected. “I know you're getting bored. I can feel it, so don't try to deny it. No matter where you are, no matter how far apart we may be, we'll always be together, always connected.”

Rin sighed and held her hands up in surrender. “True. Okay, okay, I give up. I'll keep the commander company for tonight.”

“We'll let you get some sleep, then,” Isaacs added.

Squeezing Alisa's left hand affectionately, Rin nodded in agreement. “I'll come visit you tomorrow. First thing in the morning, I'll be right here with you, okay?”

“Go on, Rin, get out of here,” Alisa said, laughing. Her eyelids were clearly starting to grow heavy. They drooped slightly, but she shook her drowsiness off. It was clear to both Rin and Isaacs that she wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer.

“Come on, Rin,” Isaacs said. “It's clear she's about to pass out.”

Rin released her partner's hand and started to pull away, but Alisa would have none of that. The woman grabbed Rin's hand with a surprisingly strong grip and yanked her forward onto the bed.

“I love you,” Alisa murmured, and before Rin could respond, she pressed her lips against Rin's own. Alisa felt her eyes close as the kiss went on, Rin's slender but oddly heavy body pressing down on her. Rin returned the kiss with equal urgency and eagerness, the neural link flooding her mind with warm emotions.

A too-short moment later, Alisa pulled away, a catlike smile on her face.

“That was… pretty good.”

Rin's expression formed into an exaggerated pout. “Just 'pretty good,' huh?”

“I'm going back to sleep now,” Alisa announced, rolling over on the bed. “Go away, you two are noisy.”

[-]

The door to the conference room slid open and Alisa walked through, Rin following closely behind her. The special session room on Sirius Colony's Fleet headquarters building resembled the ready room of a typical Alliance capital ship. A long gray table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by lightweight chairs made of some sort of composite material over a metal frame.

The table itself was bare save for a metal coffee urn and a small pitcher of cream. Three mugs sat next to the urn. Alisa and Rin both took their seats without comment, Alisa reaching over and helping herself to some of the coffee.

“How long do you think Nera will be?” Rin wondered.

“I'm not sure,” Alisa replied. A week ago, Commander Isaacs informed her that Admiral Thomas would be arranging a private meeting between the three of them at the Fleet headquarters. All they knew was that Nera had some sort of offer for them.

It still felt very strange to think of people without thinking of their rank. It had only been a few days since her medical discharge papers were signed by Commander Isaacs. A civilian existence was almost completely alien to her, having spent her entire adult life embroiled in the war against the Gray.

Her gunshot wounds had healed, though Alisa still felt weak in the mornings and if she tried to move too quickly. The damage had been far more severe than she'd realized—after speaking with the doctors, both she and Rin realized that even without the political aspect, she could very well have been discharged anyway.

One of the impactors struck her spine. Had it not been for her helper nanites and the speed at which Rin managed to get her to a hospital, she might have required extensive cybernetic limb and nerve replacement just to simply walk again. Flying a starfighter would have been completely out of the question.

Alisa narrowly avoided a permanent revocation of her piloting certification, but the Alliance considered her to be potentially explosive, politically speaking. She was quietly discharged from the Advanced Starfighter Corps and given an extremely generous pension in return for her exceptional war record and service to the Alliance. Her credit account was full to bursting with a financial gift that felt like a hollow and halfhearted apology.

The door slid open again, interrupting Alisa's grim thoughts. Admiral Nera Thomas walked into the room. The last time they met, she was disguised in a standard Fleet uniform with a lieutenant's bar.

Today, however, Admiral Thomas was radiant in her pristine white flag officer's uniform. Her admiral's insignia, a four-pointed crystal star set on an oval midnight-blue field, gleamed on each of her shoulders. The left breast of her uniform jacket was covered in row after row of colorful ribbons that denoted her battle accolades and awards.

Alisa started to stand and salute, but stopped herself as she realized that such things were no longer necessary now that she was a civilian.

“Good morning, Alisa, Rin,” Nera greeted them. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to meet with you, but things have been so busy with the upcoming trial. You had no trouble making it to the meeting room, I take it?”

“None at all.” Alisa tried to keep her voice cool and calm, but inwardly she was a nervous wreck, wondering just why Nera had called her here to this meeting after she voted right along with the other flag officers to take her life away.

Nera nodded and sat down, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Good. I left instructions that you and Rin were to be allowed in here regardless of security clearance and rank. I'm glad to see that my orders were followed to the letter.”

“With all due respect, Admiral—”

“Alisa, we've known each other since you were a kid,” Nera interrupted as she took a sip of her bitter brew. “You're a civilian now, to boot—there's no need for you to address me by rank.”

“Why did you do it, Nera?” Alisa demanded. “Why did you vote with the rest of High Command to force me into a medical discharge? You know what flying means to me—hell, you literally inspired me to enlist in the Fleet as a starfighter pilot!”

Rin gazed at her partner with no small amount of concern. “Calm down, Alisa. I'm sure the admiral has something up her sleeve.”

“How can I calm down?” The distraught woman gave Rin a pleading look. “Nera let this happen to us and now we'll never fly for the Alliance again!”

“Just listen what she has to say, love,” Rin implored.

“Fine.” Alisa glared at Nera and took a gulp from her coffee, ignoring the fact that she'd just burned her tongue on the hot beverage. “Say what you came to say.”

“Let me first begin by extending you my deepest apologies,” Nera began. “This wasn't intended to hurt you. Please understand that there are greater political concerns. Don't dismiss them as frivolities. Millions of lives can and do hang in the balance. Admiral Wolff didn't act alone, and with Captain Moran's investigation complete, we've identified several other Alliance personnel who were complicit in this scheme.”

Rin arched an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Specialist Martin Lee you know of. The Internal Investigation Division agents, Baldwin and Solomon as well. Captain Moran's investigation uncovered more data despite the purge Wolff initiated that destroyed the contents of the deep-storage unit. Even your former Captain Zachary of the Infiltrator was implicated by the information Moran discovered.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Rin muttered. “He's always despised me and distrusted Alisa.”

Nera sipped her coffee. “The Alliance will be feeling the effects of this scandal for years to come. The too-cozy arrangement Wolff maintained with a mercenary outfit operating out of the fringe territories is troubling enough on its own. The last thing the Administrative Council wants is for a living reminder of the incident to become a public media figure.”

“I am capable of discretion,” Alisa snapped. “The politicians really thought I would sell out and go public? What, do they think that's impossible simply because I'm no longer actively serving in the Fleet?”

“They don't know you, Alisa. Most politicians thrive on publicity and can't understand why anyone else wouldn't want the news media to record their every triumph and success for all to see. It's the life they live, the battles they fight.”

“I figured that much out.” Alisa drained her coffee mug and refilled it, topping the cup off with a thick layer of cream. “I know you didn't call me here to tell me you're sorry and rehash the same garbage I already heard from Commander Isaacs a week ago.”

“Alisa, we both fought for you,” Nera informed her. “I did my best and Commander Isaacs did his best. Even General Samuels fought for you. Out of all of us, he was the most thoroughly disgusted by what the Administrative Council wanted us to do to you after all you've endured.”

“Then why did you unanimously deny the commander's petition?”

“Because it would have been impossible to do without the Council's cooperation. High Command cannot authorize the creation of new units without the approval of the Council's Appropriations Committee. It's an allocation issue—we wouldn't have the resources necessary to set up a new ASC wing, shuffle assignments around to get it attached to a destroyer and the myriad other tasks that would accompany such a decision.”

“I suspect the Council had no desire to approve such a thing,” Rin reasoned.

“None that I could detect, no.” Nera reached into her jacket's hidden pocket and drew out a sealed, unmarked envelope. This she pushed across the table to Alisa, who gave the admiral a curious look. The envelope resembled a sealed orders packet, exactly like the dozens she'd received during her service, but the branch emblem was missing.

“What's this?”

“The reason I called you here today. I could not keep you in the Fleet, so I did everything I could to ensure you would stay in a starfighter. Yes, they are sealed mission orders. Read them later for instructions on how to proceed.”

Alisa felt the world shift beneath her feet yet again. “What are you planning, Nera?”

The admiral didn't say anything for a long moment. Instead, she tapped a few commands into the hidden console built into the conference table. The air around Alisa tingled slightly as a signal dampening field activated, ensuring their privacy.

“The short version is that I'm offering you and Rin a job under the aegis of Alliance Central Intelligence, working directly for me. There are a great many questions that need to be answered and you are the one I want to find those answers.”

Rin and Alisa exchanged a meaningful glance. Admiral Thomas was a sharp one—she clearly suspected there was more to the story than had been told.

“I know the both of you know something about the conspiracy that no one else in the Alliance knows,” Nera continued, leveling a cool stare at Rin, “save for the former Admiral Wolff—and he seems singularly disinclined to speak about it. The two of you have remained tight-lipped thus far, as well.”

“It was for a good reason.” Rin's expression was grim. “If you think the political fallout is bad now, you have no idea how much worse this information would be if it leaked to the media.”

“Yes, but I hope you will share that information with me now.” The admiral seemed to lose some of her fire as she spoke. “I'm not so foolish that I can't sense something much greater is boiling beneath the surface.”

Alisa glanced at Rin and her partner nodded. Alisa took a long swallow of her coffee, turning her gaze on the woman seated across the table.

“Lindy Meyers is not dead, nor was she ever a green pilot forced into a prestigious position by her father's political ambitions. She claimed to be an agent of an organization known as Nemesis—the true driving force behind Wolff's conspiracy.”

To her credit, Nera didn't seem to react much beyond a barely-perceptible widening of the eyes. “Why didn't you say anything to me sooner?”

“To be honest, I thought I'd hallucinated the entire thing,” Alisa admitted. “My memory hasn't been all that clear after being shot four times and drugged up from here to Deneb. This whole time I thought Wolff was the one who shot me and I was just remembering wrong.”

The admiral nodded. “We suspected as much, but had nothing to prove it. We were unable to charge him with your attempted murder, but it hardly matters, as we have more than enough to put him away for life.”

Alisa glanced at Rin and her expression grew somber. “Rin told me what happened after I got out of the hospital. Wolff wasn't the one who shot me, Nera. Lindy was there. She intentionally wounded me non-fatally, badly enough to keep me from fighting back but not enough to risk damage to my brain. We think she intended to use Admiral Wolff's authority and smuggle Rin and me off of Sirius Colony, where she could then disappear with the both of us.”

“The ACI has no information on an organization called Nemesis,” Nera mused. “What else did Lindy say to you?”

“That the Alliance was wasting my potential. That Nemesis needed me—needed everyone who shared the same ability—in order to defeat the Gray once and for all. I don't remember much after that.”

Rin squeezed her partner's right hand affectionately. “I came upon Lindy after Alisa had been shot. She was terribly wounded and barely conscious. I spoke with Lindy briefly before I initiated combat and disarmed her, forcing her to retreat without Alisa. Much of the conversation was unproductive.”

“Don't let her modesty fool you, Nera,” Alisa put in. “Rin distracted her opponent by goading her into a philosophical argument. She used her opponent's obvious distaste for AI to get the drop on her and kicked the gun right out of her hand.”

Rin felt her cheeks heating up. “H-hey! How did you know that? I thought you were unconscious at the time!”

“Only mostly unconscious.” Alisa giggled under her breath. Then her expression became more serious. “I thought I had dreamed that, too, but when Rin told me the rest of it, I knew it had to have actually happened.”

Nera smiled, but there was little humor in her expression. “Regardless, this gives us some sort of starting point. If this Nemesis is searching for people who share Alisa's ability, it's safe to assume that they know at least as much as Section Zero. They may know even more.”

“Lindy bluntly stated that people with the ability will be shaped into an assassin's dagger to strike the Gray down.” Alisa glanced at Rin and then back at the admiral. “I don't know what she could have possibly meant by that.”

“I can understand how the warp sensitivity itself could finally give us a way to monitor and jam Gray local communications,” Nera mused, “but I must confess I have no idea why the people themselves are such a potent weapon against the Gray. A single pilot with your abilities may be able to fight more effectively than the average, but that is hardly a game-changer.”

“Maybe they've figured out some other way to use it,” Rin suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“Section Zero discovered that the Gray possess the same ability and use it to communicate with each other. What else do they use it for? What else can it be used for? We don't know, but perhaps Nemesis does.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don't think Lindy had eavesdropping on Gray hypercoms in mind when she was talking about weapons of vengeance and redress. I am only speculating,” Rin continued, “but Lindy seemed to be convinced that people like Alisa were the ore from which Nemesis could forge a super-weapon. It's in our best interests to treat this as a serious threat.”

“A fair point,” Admiral Thomas admitted.

Rin shrugged and turned around, facing the conference room's walls. “Do you know the origin of Nemesis? She was the Greek goddess of vengeance. Lindy claimed the organization is the manifestation of humanity's vengeance.”

Nera's expression was grim. “You're suggesting that the goal of Nemesis is to try and create a weapon in the image of their namesake? A human goddess of vengeance that will dispense divine retribution unto the Gray?”

“Regardless, it's something we have to stop, Nera.” Alisa turned an earnest look on the admiral, trying her best to clear the despair from the woman's mind. “We don't even know how deep this organization's influence runs within the Alliance. Nemesis is clearly dangerous and needs to be stopped. At the very least, they have subverted a number of high-ranking Alliance Fleet officers and could have compromised even more that you don't know about.”

Nera wished, not for the first time since the discussion began, that she'd thought to have the conference room stocked with alcohol. “I don't disagree. The corruption within the Alliance is an abomination that must be rooted out and destroyed, lest the whole organization sicken and die.”

“In that case, we accept your offer.” Alisa picked up the sealed envelope and slipped it into her jacket pocket. “Rin and I will read over the orders contained within this packet this evening.”

“Thank you, both of you.” Nera stood and reached out to shake Alisa's hand. “I will contact you within the next twenty-four hours with further details of your assignment.”

Alisa nodded and took the offered hand. It still felt very strange shaking the hand of someone she'd been drilled over and over again to salute at all times, on duty or off. She supposed she would get used to it, however.

There were a great many things that she would have to get used to.

17

“Come on, Alisa.” Rin tugged on her partner's arm. “Commander Isaacs is already downstairs waiting for us.”

Alisa stood in front of the mirror, trying to adjust her new dress. Unfortunately, she wasn't given the benefit of advance warning to have something custom tailored for her, so Rin had gone out into the colony to purchase dresses for them both. The Alliance was being particularly slow about getting Alisa and Rin's personal effects from the Infiltrator shipped back to Sirius Colony.

“I'm hurrying,” she grumbled. “It's too tight. I'm afraid the seams are going to burst if I inhale too deeply. Or bend over. Or move in general.”

“Oh, come on, it'll be fine.”

“Until the wrong thread pops,” Alisa countered. “Then I'll have a critical boob explosion all over the place. Think of how ridiculous that would look.”

Violet eyes danced above an impish grin. “I'm not opposed to such an occurrence.”

Rin ducked as Alisa swatted at her in retaliation. She sighed theatrically and walked around behind her partner, adjusting the back of the dress with fast, dexterous fingers. Alisa felt immediate relief as the pressure around her chest decreased.

“What did you do?”

“I re-laced the back in a different pattern,” Rin explained. “The dress isn't too small, love, you're just out of practice. When was the last time you dressed up?”

Alisa's expression fell slightly. “My advancement ceremony to Lieutenant-Commander.”

“That was almost a year ago. You know, now that we're civilians, there's no more uniform to worry about wearing. You should be able to dress in more ways that are pleasing to my eyes!”

Alisa swatted at Rin again, and missed yet again. She broke into a fresh fit of giggles.

“There's no way you can match my speed and you know it!”

“It's no fun when I can never actually land a hit on you,” Alisa grumbled, peering at herself in the mirror. Rin's re-lacing job was a success; the scoop neck bodice of the dress plunged low and offered a rather nice amount of cleavage, but felt comfortable and secure. She couldn't detect any places where the fabric bunched or pulled at her.

“Okay, I'm ready,” Alisa announced. “Where are my shoes?”

“Here.” Rin handed her a pair of white low-heeled sandals. Alisa quickly slipped the shoes on and stomped on the carpeted floor a few times, ensuring that the straps were good and stable.

Alisa turned around and smiled at Rin. Her partner wore a dress similar in design to Alisa's, but cut to be flattering on someone with a more modest figure. Rin's dress was a simple design with princess-style cap sleeves, crafted of pale yellow synthetic silk that set off her dark hair and violet eyes to stunning effect.

Alisa's dress was a shimmering powder-blue and had been cut to be more form-fitting in the torso with a flaring, ruffled skirt and lace detailing on the wide shoulder straps. The design took complete advantage of her fuller figure and ran with it. The pale fabric contrasted beautifully with her tawny complexion and reddish-brown curls.

It occurred to Alisa as she followed Rin out of the hotel room that both the dresses bore more than a passing resemblance to the handmade pink dress Rin had earned during her unauthorized vacation on Sirius Colony.

“Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Rin shrugged. “It wasn't that long ago. It just feels like it to you because we were under a lot of stress at the time.”

“Understatement of the century.” Alisa tapped her destination floor into the lift's control panel and stepped inside as the doors slid open. Rin followed and the two waited in companionable silence as the lift descended to the lobby. The ride was short due to the four-story height limit on buildings within the colony.

The two walked through the elevator hallway to the hotel restaurant entrance. Alisa's eyes widened a bit as she peered inside and saw a multitude of exceptionally well-dressed people inside, eating and talking.  Alisa suddenly felt horribly self-conscious and out of place, but Rin pushed open the double doors without a second thought.

“Relax, love,” Rin murmured under the level of conversation. “Look.”

Alisa did so, lifting her head as they walked in. A number of diners turned to watch as the two walked inside, following the pair as they stood near the seating area. She felt her cheeks flush as she realized that the stares were admiring.

Rin giggled. “I told you we'd be fine.”

Alisa was saved further embarrassment as an imposing figure, seated at the bar, slipped off his bar stool and turned to face them. It was Commander Isaacs, dressed in a boldly-cut and fashionable suit jacket of black fabric. Underneath the jacket he wore a very dark gray shirt and a wide, pure white necktie secured with a glittering gold tie pin bearing the Advanced Starfighter Corps emblem. His lapel was adorned with a miniature pin modeled after the commander's rank insignia.

“I was wondering when you'd show up.” Isaacs engulfed Alisa in a hug that she was in no position to deny. So much for being saved further embarrassment; the blush on her cheeks intensified as her mentor and friend nearly crushed her in his embrace.

“No hug for me?” Rin whined.

“Of course there's one for you.” The big man laughed and released Alisa, turning his attention to her partner. Fortunately for Rin, she didn't need to breathe and the man's strong embrace only served to widen her smile.

“Do we have a table yet?” Alisa managed after a moment.

“Yes, I was just waiting for you at the bar.” Isaacs motioned for the two women to follow. He led them to a small table in a remote corner of the restaurant that had been reserved for the three of them. Menus and glasses had already been set out, a pitcher of ice-cold water on the table.

Alisa and Rin took their seats next to each other and Isaacs took his in one of the empty chairs across. The three silently considered their menus for a long moment, trying to decide what to order. Isaacs raised a hand and a waiter appeared mere seconds later, as if summoned by magic.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Surprise me with a house cocktail,” Isaacs told the waiter.

The waiter nodded and turned to Alisa. “And for you, ladies?”

“I'll have the local Sirius amber ale.”

Rin pointed to the menu. “A glass of your semi-sweet white wine.”

“Certainly, miss,” the waiter replied. His eyes searched her face for a moment. “I'll just need to check your ID, if you don't mind.”

Rin reached into her clutch handbag and pulled out the ID card, handing it to the waiter for verification. He tapped the card against his tablet and it let out a confirming chirp. The waiter handed the card back to her.

“Very good, Miss Celestia.” He disappeared into the back of the restaurant. Rin turned to Alisa and started to giggle hysterically.

“Only you would be happy about being ID'ed for booze.”

“Hey!” Rin's voice was defensive. “It's the first time I've gotten to use this thing. I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can. We're not going to be near much in the way of civilization for the next six months.”

That was an unfortunate truth. Alisa and Rin unsealed the orders Nera gave them during their private meeting. Inside the memory chip was a Black-level security clearance for the both of them and an authorization code that would allow them access to a Fleet hazardous-duty shuttle. The chip also contained a set of coordinates which Rin recognized as being essentially out in the middle of nowhere. That particular area of space was right at the edge of the galactic core, densely packed with exploding stars and black holes, devoid of anything that could possibly interest the Gray.

Or anyone, for that matter, except perhaps a science vessel full of astrophysicists with a death wish. Alisa dredged herself out of her private thoughts as the waiter returned with their drinks. They took a moment to give the waiter their lunch orders.

“You accepted her offer, I take it?” Isaacs queried.

“We did. We're with the ACI now.” Rin lifted her glass of wine and took a sip from the chilled liquid. The local vintage was spectacular, she had to admit. Of course, at fifteen credits per glass, it damn well better have been. She smiled and took an inelegant gulp, nearly draining the glass before the appetizers arrived. Alisa gave her partner a look that defied description.

“What? I'm sure the waiter will refill it. The Alliance is picking up the tab, anyway, so why not live a little?” Rin giggled and took another drink from her wine.

“Damn right,” Isaacs agreed. He sipped at his cocktail, a savory blend of yellow sweet pepper juice, herb-infused salt and a highly-chilled special vodka made with primordial ice harvested from comets. Rin noticed he wasn't nearly as eager to drain the drink as she was, considering its high proof and his lack of an immunity to alcohol.

“We can't really talk about much of what was discussed,” Alisa continued, picking up the conversation thread. The waiter returned with their appetizers and refilled Rin's wineglass without a word.

Isaacs nodded. “I suspected as much. Working for the ACI, the both of you likely have security clearances far beyond mine. Say no more—I won't pressure you for the details, even though I would definitely be interested to know what's going to happen to my former subordinates.”

“It feels strange not having you as my CO anymore,” Alisa admitted. “Rather, civilian life in general feels strange. I feel… almost purposeless. I've been a part of the Fleet for more years than I haven't.”

“You'll get used to it, I'm sure,” Isaacs remarked. “The two of you are nothing if not adaptable.”

Rin jerked a thumb at her partner. “I told her that, but she's stubborn.”

“You should listen to Rin. She's smarter than you are.”

Alisa glared peevishly at her former boss. “I've heard that sentiment before on many, many occasions.”

“I suspect you'll keep hearing it until you listen to it.” Isaacs took a swallow of his cocktail before biting into a piece of warm bread dressed with olive oil, roasted garlic and some herb that Alisa couldn't identify. She remembered that the restaurant's claim to fame was its use of Earth-native and extraterrestrial ingredients as well.

“Yeah, yeah. Is that our food coming?”

The waiter returned, bearing a wide tray with three steaming plates. The young man efficiently set the meals down on the table in front of each of the diners. Alisa glanced at Rin's plate and laughed. A very fancy-looking burger sat next to an artfully-arranged pile of fried potatoes.

“You ordered a cheeseburger at a place like this?”

“Why not?” Rin countered. “It was on the menu, so it's fair game, and I wanted a cheeseburger!”

“A thirty-credit cheeseburger. It's a good thing we're not paying for this.” Alisa glanced at the commander's plate. A thick slab of rare beef sat on the plate, dripping juices and served with a pat of melting garlic butter. The big man was already tucking in, cutting a sizable chunk off with his table knife. “Is that live-raised beef?”

“This? No, it's cultured.” Isaacs laughed. “This restaurant's pretty nice, but it's not quite lavishly extravagant enough for farm-raised meats. A slab of cow this size from an actual cow would set me back five thousand credits, for which the Alliance would kill me if I tried to claim as a duty expense.” He took a bite from his cloned steak and sighed in contentment.

Rin blinked. “That's how much our hotel room costs for a month!”

“Live-raised meats are an extreme rarity,” Alisa pointed out. “There are only a handful of private agricultural colonies that even have the legal status required to raise livestock. Public agricolonies are dedicated purely to growing crops.”

“I'm well aware of that,” Rin grumbled. “You do realize that any time I don't know something I just look it up on the network, right?”

“Remind me to never play trivia games with you,” Isaacs commented.

Alisa and Rin both burst into laughter. Their gaiety was partly forced; both of them knew they were likely to never see Commander Isaacs again once they began their new lives. The three of them engaged in small talk while they lingered over their meals, enjoying the atmosphere of the hotel's restaurant.

Two hours later, Commander Isaacs was nursing a third cocktail while Alisa set her empty glass on the edge of the table for the second time. She felt only mildly suggestible, a result of her military augmentations metabolizing the alcohol rapidly, breaking it down far faster than her unaided body could.

“We've got to get going soon,” Alisa said, her tone suggesting that she really didn't want to leave just yet.

“First day on the new job tomorrow?”

Rin nodded. “We've got a long flight ahead of us. We'll have to do ten full core charges to get where we're going.”

“Sounds like you'll be heading out into the wilds,” Isaacs noted, careful not to press them for more information. “It was fun. Next time the two of you are anywhere near the Infiltrator's mission area, we should get together again. That is, assuming the ship ever makes it out of dock so I can get back to work.”

“Definitely.” Alisa smiled and stood up, reaching a hand out to take Rin's. She of course needed no help standing, but she played along with an impish grin. Isaacs drew himself out of his seat and gave each of the two a second round of bear hugs. Alisa waved to the man as she and Rin walked out of the restaurant.

“We should go get changed. Did you leave a change of clothes out when you packed?”

“I did. The rest of the gear should be loaded up and sent to the Fleet docking bay to be loaded on the ship. According to your messages, the Alliance finally found the crate with our stuff from the Infiltrator. It was sent to Eden Colony with our Lancer after IID logged it in as evidence, but they managed to get it shipped here this morning.”

Alisa sighed. Another reminder that the world had been turned upside-down.

Rin turned to Alisa and motioned for her to follow, breaking the woman out of her depressing thoughts. “Come on, Alisa. Let's get going.”

[-]

The small long-range shuttle emerged from hyperspace in a cauldron of dying stars. A loose nebular cloud obscured Alisa's view through the shell display, but her eyes couldn't possibly catalog all the ancient suns and planetary nebulae that scattered across the void. The vessel's navigation display indicated their current location was something of an eye in the storm, a calm “spot” several light-years in diameter that had considerably lower radiation flux and wasn't too near any of the more dangerous celestial bodies.

“We're here,” Rin announced as she gripped the shuttle's control stick. “The coordinates that Nera gave us should be within a few hundred thousand kilometers. I don't see anything on the nav display, though.”

“Remember how it was set up before. We're not going to be able to see it until we're pretty much right on top of it.” Alisa glanced at the nav display and frowned. “Considering what happened last time.”

“I don't forget anything,” Rin said.

“I'm well aware of that.” Alisa tapped a key on her console and brought up the communications interface. She slid the memory chip Nera provided into a slot and transferred the encryption keys to the shuttle's computers. “Broadcasting hailing signal now.”

Rin's eyes widened fractionally. “That definitely got a reaction. A contact just appeared on the nav display, returning a docking signal.”

“Switch over to docking protocols.”

Alisa and Rin waited as the vessel rapidly cleared the remaining few million kilometers, plunging deeper into the nebular cloud. Hidden within the nebular cloud was what resembled an irregularly-shaped planetoid floating in space.

“That shouldn't be here,” Rin observed. “There's no way a lump of rock that size could form in these conditions naturally without ending up in the gullet of a black hole or being shredded by a neutron star.”

“Maybe it's an extrasolar capture?”

Rin blinked. “Could be. Either that or Mama's people brought it here from somewhere else in order to have a place to set up shop.”

Alisa frowned, glancing at the materials analyzer built into the tactical display. The planetoid appeared to be naturally lumpy, a somewhat misshapen spheroid that was too big to call an asteroid but too small to be considered a true planet.

The shuttle flew toward the planetoid, the vessel's autopilot taking care of the docking procedures while Alisa tried to examine the thing more closely with the shuttle's sensors. She magnified the shell display and her eyes widened as she noticed the surface of the planetoid was studded with dozens of what looked like surplus destroyer star drives.

“I guess that's how it sticks around in this spot.”

The two women waited as the shuttle began to reduce its acceleration and a small section of the planetoid slid open, revealing a hidden docking bay that could easily accommodate a full wing of starfighters. Alisa watched as the shuttle made its way through the curtain barrier and killed its thrusters, switching the repulsion panels on as it made its way carefully into one of the empty docking cradles.

“Boarding catwalk has been extended.”

“It doesn't look the same as it did last time we were here,” Alisa pointed out. “Though since they had to tear the whole place apart in order to move it, I wouldn't be surprised if they took the time to upgrade everything when setting it all back up.”

Alisa unfastened her safety harness and pulled out of the pilot's seat. The two made their way to the boarding hatch. There was a hiss of released gas as it opened. Familiar smells hit Alisa's nostrils as the air from the docking bay mingled with the shuttle's internal atmosphere. The sharp tang of ozone from arc welders and plasma cutters was mingled with the vaguely chemical smells of coolant, cleaning chemicals and the unmistakable scent of high-voltage electronics.

A familiar figure stood at the end of the catwalk that would take Alisa and Rin deeper into the facility and out of the docking bay. She was dressed not in an Alliance uniform, but in comfortable civilian clothing—a pair of black leggings, simple lace-up ankle boots and a rose-colored blouse. She wore a white lab coat over her casual attire and held an Alliance-issue TCC in her right hand.

Rin's eyes lit up with the intensity of a new star. “Mama!”

Breaking into a run across the catwalk, Rin practically leaped into the poor woman's arms, only halting her momentum at the last moment as she recalled that her abnormally dense body would likely knock them both to the floor. The woman seemed to take this in stride, however, and wrapped her arms around the girl, a content smile on her face.

Alisa sighed theatrically. “It's good to see you again, Director Seo.”

“Please, call me Hyun-ae.” She rocked back and forth on her heels, clearly just as uninterested in letting go as Rin was. “The title of 'Director Seo' is reserved for when I have to talk to people in the Alliance outside of our little family.”

“Family?” Rin queried. “Is that how you think of Section Zero?”

Hyun-ae nodded. “Of course. We live together, work together, struggle to solve the unsolvable together. How could we not become so close? We may not share genes—and some of us may not even have them—but we're all family just the same.” The director of Section Zero tapped Rin lightly on the tip of her nose, eliciting a gale of laughter from the AI.

Alisa watched the two interact with a bemused smile. She was still amazed at just how much of Rin's own mannerisms were mirrored in this woman.

Rin reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her ID. “Look at this, Mama! Isn't it wonderful? I've been granted rights as a person and an Alliance citizen.”

“Yes, I'd heard about that.” Hyun-ae's smile faltered slightly. “I must admit I am somewhat disappointed that the Council opted for such a deception, but perhaps the public isn't yet ready for the idea of a free, unfettered artificial intelligence.”

“It wasn’t like they had much choice,” Alisa pointed out.

“I know. The admiral briefed me on everything. She is terribly sorry that she couldn't do more, but at least by taking on this position, you will be able to keep fighting for humanity. Come along and I'll show you to your new quarters. We won't start putting you two to work just yet; you'll have some time to settle in first. I know you're still in a bit of a bad way after the injuries you suffered.”

Hyun-ae led them across the docking bay catwalk that would eventually take them deeper into the facility. “I suspect Admiral Thomas will assign your mission soon, however. You'll be back behind the controls of a starfighter before you know it. For now, try to focus on recovery. We'll need you at your very best when it's time to work.”

Alisa nodded. “Understood.”

“Where's Sara?” Rin asked.

“Miss Loewe is a contract agent. What she does with her time when she isn't working on a mission for us is none of our concern.”

“Aww.” Rin's smile faded. “She didn't even say goodbye to me.”

“That's how she is—she doesn't like goodbyes.” Hyun-ae shrugged. “You'll see her again soon enough, trust me. She's very, very good at what she does and that level of competence will be critical in the difficult days to come.”

Alisa let her eyes wander as Hyun-ae and Rin continued to chatter on among themselves. The docking bay was large, with thirty docking cradles. Sixteen of them were occupied with the unmarked Lancer wing attached to Section Zero, but one of the cradles held a starfighter that seemed different than the others.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Hyun-ae and Rin stopped, their eyes following her pointing finger. Violet eyes widened and Rin's mouth hung open in surprise as she recognized the familiar image of the 703rd Hyperspace Assault Wing unit crest emblazoned on the hull of the vessel.

“Hey, that's our Lancer!”

“Oh, yes. Admiral Thomas had that transferred here from the IID impound dock on Eden Colony. It's been placed in the auxiliary cradle until our techs can get to work on outfitting it properly. Since your missions will typically be performed without the aid of a full wing of pilots, we plan to overhaul the starfighter from the ground up.”

“Like the one we flew last time we were here?”

“Similar. That particular unit was a testbed for new weapons technology. After the battle with the Red Claw, we disassembled it. We'll use the data we gathered from that battle and the test bed's system logs to completely overhaul your fighter for your new mission.”

Rin raised a hand. “I want to oversee that process.”

“Of course,” Hyun-ae replied. “Come this way. I'll show you to your quarters.”

[-]

Almost a half an hour later, the trio arrived at a small block of apartments. To Alisa, it felt almost as if she were back on Cygnus Station again—though the Section Zero base was smaller and much more sparsely populated. During the lift car ride, Hyun-ae had given Alisa and Rin a brief overview of the changes to the Section Zero base.

The not-quite-planet that the colony was built into had in fact been an extrasolar capture, just as Alisa guessed. An Alliance science and mapping vessel found it over three centuries ago and used it to construct a sort of high-security “bomb shelter” facility for protecting VIPs and important Alliance personnel in the event that the Gray managed to destabilize the central government.

Eventually, the Alliance decided to distribute the important leaders of its government and command structure over large swaths of Alliance-controlled space, thus eliminating the risk of ranking officials being in a single convenient location where the Gray could kill them all in one fell swoop. The planetoid colony was eventually all but abandoned, functioning as little more than an FTL comm relay for the next eighty years. After the Red Claw followed Sara to the Section Zero base's previous location, Alliance Central Intelligence decided to move the facility to this abandoned colony.

The colony was currently home to about two hundred people. A significant portion of the population were researchers and scientists under the aegis of Section Zero, working tirelessly to uncover the secrets of the Gray's technology in order to better design counters and increase the Fleet's effectiveness against the enemy. The rest of the personnel were made up of experts necessary for the base's operation or former ACI assets who could no longer safely work in the field, but agreed to continue serving the Alliance in exchange for protection and anonymity.

Hyun-ae turned to Alisa and Rin. “I have to get back to work now, so I'll leave you here for the evening. You've both been given access to the local network, so please familiarize yourself with the layout of the new colony. Even though we don't house an especially high number of people here, the facility is very large, in order to accommodate all of the systems that allow us to be self-sufficient.”

“How often do supply vessels make it out here?”

“Twice a year, but they only carry the things we cannot make on our own. Even before Admiral Thomas had the research division transferred here, we've been working to make this place as sustainable as possible. In fact, we actually export a few things back to the Alliance.”

Alisa raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“One of the odd jobs performed here is the recovery and processing of hypermatter from the unique environment we reside near. There's an experimental factory on the other side of the planetoid that constructs new warp cores using some of what we harvest, but most of it goes to the major Fleet shipyards.”

“Interesting,” Alisa murmured.

“I'm sorry, but I really have to get back to work.” Hyun-ae nodded to Alisa and turned her attention to Rin. “We'll spend some more time together soon, sweetie. I promise.” Hyun-ae leaned forward and gave Rin a quick kiss on the cheek, prompting her cheeks to flush pink.

“Bye, Mama!”

Alisa watched Hyun-ae turn and walk away. She placed her hand on the door panel, waiting while the system initialized and recorded her as an authorized user; Rin did the same afterward. The two walked inside their apartment and Alisa turned the lights on, then promptly did a double-take.

“Wow.”

The apartment was easily the largest living space Alisa had ever seen. The living room and gathering area was four times the size of Alisa's old apartment on Cygnus Station. It was completely furnished with simple but comfortable designs using sustainable materials; the pieces were likely manufactured on this very colony. The room was dominated by an enormous overstuffed sofa and coffee table situated in front of a wide holographic display projector.

A massive kitchen—complete with every conceivable appliance and cooking implement she could ever want—was directly adjacent to the living room. A door on the other side of the wall led into a spacious bedroom that was only slightly smaller. There were various storage closets, all fully stocked. Rin opened the combination refrigerator and stasis preservation unit and was surprised to find it filled to bursting with fresh fruits, vegetables and a variety of cultured meats.

“None of this stuff has any labels or logos on them,” Alisa noted.

“Mama did say that most of the things used here are made here. I've already been examining the complete map of the base. It's a fully automated, nearly self-sufficient colony. They make extensive use of simulated intelligences to perform complex tasks, automatons and drones for simple labor. Human workers are supervisory or oversight.”

“Most of our colonies work that way, Rin.” Alisa laughed as she walked into the kitchen and retrieved a bowl filled with fresh cherries from the fridge. She popped one into her mouth and chewed, careful to avoid the pit. The small tart fruit was intensely flavorful without even the slightest hint of the flat taste brought on by extended stasis.

“Yeah, but most of our colonies also keep the number of non-human workers to an absolute minimum for morale's sake.”

“True.” Alisa ate a few more cherries, her stomach and mind both settling down. “What do you think will be next for us?”

Rin was silent for a long moment by her human partner's standards. By her own, it was almost an eternity. Alisa could imagine the processes and algorithms churning and calculating in the AI's mind.

“Sleep should be next for us,” Rin finally said.

Alisa giggled. “You don't even need sleep.”

“No, but you do.” Rin's expression sharpened. “This isn't a good place to stage missions from; if we were going to be sent out after Lindy and Nemesis right away, she would have called Sara back right away and we'd be off on our way to the fringe to follow the trail.”

“What are you saying?”

“Isn't it obvious? While you recover from the last incident, we're going to be completing the hypercom project. The one that has you as its primary experimental subject. For the meantime, we'll likely be pursuing that instead of Lindy and the Nemesis organization.”

Alisa's expression softened. “Rin, I know you want to go after her right now. We both share the same desire, believe me. I desperately want to know what could possibly make a person do what she did to us; how she could betray us so thoroughly while worming her way into our hearts.”

Rin didn't say anything.

“The fact is, love,” Alisa continued, “we really have no information whatsoever on Nemesis, nor do we have any idea where Lindy Meyers is. Or even who she really is. We won't be able to find her easily—she's not the greenhorn pilot, still wet behind the ears and forced into a job she didn't want by her politician father, that we thought we knew. For all we know, her father could be a part of the organization, too.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Rin sighed and plopped down on the overstuffed sofa. Alisa took the bowl of cherries with her and sat down next to her partner.

“It'll take time to gather the intelligence necessary to find them.” Alisa took a cherry between her thumb and forefinger and placed it between her lips. Rin giggled and leaned forward, pressing her lips to her partner's and snatching the cherry away.

“Hey! I was going to eat that!”

Rin sucked the fruit into her mouth and chewed, spitting the pit into the bowl. “Too late now.”

“Anyway,” Alisa grumbled, fixing Rin with a stern glare, “we've got no choice but to wait until the groundwork's been laid. In the meantime, finishing the research project is extremely important. If we can break the Gray's local comms, it'll give the Fleet a huge advantage.”

“You're right, of course.”

Alisa scooted closer to her partner and nestled in against her. “Besides, I'm more than a little curious about the thing that strange Gray pilot tried to send me. I want to know what's inside it.”

“I want to know what's inside it, too. I've poked at it a few times, but it's going to take Mama and all of her people to really figure out what in the universe it means.”

Alisa was silent for a long time, a thought worming its way through her head. With the secret to Gray communication tantalizingly close at hand, everyone's thoughts turned to the combat advantage it would bring. No one, save for Hyun-ae, seemed to realize that the ability to understand the Gray would also mean the ability to talk to them.

Rin turned to look at her curiously. “What are you thinking about so hard that you aren't letting come through the link, love?”

“The Gray and the war.”

Rin arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“If we can learn their language, understand what they're saying,” Alisa began in an uncertain tone, “it would logically follow that we can also talk with them. Maybe we can try to work things out between us with words rather than weapons. Maybe they're just as tired of the fighting as we are, but they're being driven on for some reason we don't understand. If we could reach some sort of mutual understanding, the possibility for peace and an end to the war could be reached.”

“The war has been going on and off for a thousand years,” Rin reminded her. “Nobody really knows why they're hostile to us in the first place. Nobody knows why the Gray appear and kill us, but never quite destroy us, or why they seem to arbitrarily vanish from our systems and remain dormant for decades at a time.”

Alisa frowned. “What about Sara's hypothesis that the Gray are attempting to keep our population from spiraling out of control? Like a gardener who clips away branches on a tree limb that has become so heavy it'll snap under its own weight.”

“That's only her speculation.” Rin's expression was dubious. “I'm not sure I believe that to begin with, but the main point is, we don't actually know. Even if she's right, it's only the method—it's what the Gray might be doing, not their motivation for doing it.”

“If we could actually communicate with them, we would be able to find out.”

“I don't know if such a task could possibly be accomplished within our lifetimes.” Rin took a cherry from the bowl and rolled it gently between her thumb and forefinger.

“Humanity has been at war or in readiness for war ever since Earth was taken. I know the Gray are different from us, but I can't imagine that they consider the situation to be any better.”

“There is no 'winning' when it comes to war.” Rin ate her cherry and leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “There are only different degrees of losing. Whatever the Gray’s motivations, they would have to be of the utmost importance.”

“When did you become so insightful?”

“I've always been,” Rin replied without missing a beat. “You just haven't been very good at listening to me up until now.”

“Oh, come on. You're one to talk—running away and playing all over Sirius Colony without even telling me you were going to go. I think we've both been rather poor listeners as of late.”

“That’s fair.” Rin inclined her head, accepting the critique without further argument. “It's important to understand each other.”

Alisa smiled and stood up, walking toward the bedroom without another word. Rin's gaze followed her curiously until the wall obstructed her view. She got up and followed Alisa into the bedroom. Rin had a pretty good idea what her partner was thinking about.

The large room was almost half taken up by a bed large enough to comfortably sleep three, possibly even four people if they didn't move around too much. Alisa wasn't in the room, but Rin noticed that the door to the bathroom was closed. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her boots, waiting for Alisa to come back into the bedroom.

Less than a minute later, the door to the restroom opened and Alisa walked out, a catlike smile on her face and not a single article of clothing on her body. Rin felt her cheeks begin to heat up as her gaze traveled all over the bared body of her human lover.

Alisa's tawny complexion was close to average for a human of the Alliance, considerably darker than Rin's. The dusky tint of her skin was largely unmarred by the remnants of past injuries, with the notable exception of the prominent whitish scar that dominated the center of her chest.

Rin knew every single part of Alisa's body, down to the nanometer. She could flawlessly render Alisa's image from memory in the form of a holographic image. But the part of her that was not strictly logical, that operated on similar principles to the mind of a human, left her sitting there, wide-eyed and blushing. Gazing upon her lover's body always filled Rin with a special sort of excitement and anticipation that never seemed to dim no matter how many times she experienced it.

“Since we've haven't been too good with proper communication ourselves recently,” Alisa began, wrapping a curly lock of reddish-brown hair around her right index finger, “perhaps we should do a little listening practice.”

“Listening practice?”

Alisa walked to the bed and sat down next to Rin. Their lips met; Alisa felt her eyelids droop of their own accord as they shared a kiss. After a long moment passed in which no words were exchanged, Alisa pulled away.

“Mm-hm. We'll take turns. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll practice listening to you, then I'll tell you what I want you to do…”

“And I practice listening to you,” Rin finished for her. She turned dreamy violet eyes on her beloved partner. “I… yes, I'm pretty sure I can handle that.”

Alisa drew Rin close, drawing their lips together for another kiss, much longer and more lingering than the first. Alisa shut her eyes, losing herself in the moment. Her counterpart's body felt warm against hers; she could feel the simulated heartbeat, smell the unique scents that emanated from Rin's body. The woman felt her partner's shiver of anticipation and longing that told her everything she needed to know.

As far as Alisa was concerned, Rin was no less authentic than any other person. Both a human mind and an artificial intelligence were created; the only difference was in the process. The end result was much the same. At that moment, Alisa swore to herself that as long as she drew breath, she would never again allow anyone, be they herself or any other, to deny Rin's soul. She felt her eyes start to sting as tears welled up and threatened to cascade down her cheeks.

Alisa pulled away, breaking the kiss slowly.

“I'm sure you'll do just fine, love.”

to be continued…

about the author

Hi there! My name is Corinn Heathers, and I'm the author!

Most about-the-author blurbs are written in the third person, but I find it tiresome and dull to do so. So here it is, from the top: I'm a queer transgender woman and a gigantic nerd who loves role-playing games, visual novels, the occasional (or frequent) anime or manga… oh, and I'm an author of speculative fiction based in the San Francisco Bay Area.

I love to write science fiction and fantasy, or science fantasy fiction, or science fiction masquerading as fantasy and everything in between. As you might have noticed, I write stories with predominately female and queer casts, often with mixed-race or otherwise non-white protagonists and supporting characters.

Binary System: Sirius is my seventh published novel-length story and the second volume in the ongoing Binary System space opera and military sci-fi series.

Readers can connect with me through my Twitter account, @syn010110. I also maintain a public email account that readers can use to contact me if they wish (corinn.writes.stuff@gmail.com), which I check reasonably often.

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