 
FLESH AND STEEL

Book One: SILENT RISING

by

Kliment Dukovski

Copyright © 2013 Kliment Dukovski

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
SYSTEM MAP

LUCIUS

Sudden burst of hot air and dust hit Lucius as he opened the quadcopter's door. He put his golden hand in front of his face, to shield his eyes while he measured the distance to the palace. Three klicks, said his cranial computer, eighteen seconds to go. That was too slow.

"Faster, faster," Lucius called to the pilot. Four rotors muffled his voice.

"This is the fastest we can go," called the pilot. "The dust storm is slowing us down."

Lucius didn't care. He needed to reach the palace and warn his father. There was no time.

Under his feet, thousands of unsuspecting citizens crawled down like ants between houses of the upper capital, their robotic assistants doing their masters' work around them. Lucius looked back at the palace – the black pyramid with its two massive obelisks that stood silent against the wind – one klick, six seconds to go. Lucius looked down at the marble floor of Forum Magnum, people rushing back and forth. Distance: two hundred meters. He turned to the pilot to ask for more speed, but he knew what the pilot was going to say. Lucius gritted his teeth, looked down. And then he jumped.

The dust in the air and Lucius's increasing velocity obscured his vision. It also enveloped his hearing with nothing but a loud whoosh. If anyone down there saw him coming, or screamed a curse, he couldn't tell. He just saw a mosaic of different colors as he sped toward it. And then he slammed the ground like a cold meteor, rippling the marble in pieces. His golden legs completely withstood the impact, unlike the floor.

My father will kill me, he thought as he flicked some dust off his golden chest.

He looked at the startled citizens then and remembered he had to hurry. He turned, pushed some of them away and headed for the palace.

At the gates, the Praetorian Guards let him pass without a word. And what could they say to the prince? To slow down? To pass weapons inspection? Not a chance.

Lucius entered the hallway running. He asked one of the Praetorians there, "Is the council assembled?"

"Yes, my prince. They are waiting for you."

Good. Lucius rushed to the elevator at the end of the hallway and waited for the metal box to get him up to the Combat Information Center. He turned to the mirror, adjusted his medals and wondered how to tell his father about the mission. Emperor Titus certainly received the report; every general and admiral in the Empire must've received it. But how will they interpret the findings? The council members were too old. They've been around here for too long. There was no way they could see what Lucius saw. They would never believe him.

The elevator door slid to the side. Rays of pale light reached through a wide window above the door, lighting rows of gilded marble statues now standing vigilant on both sides of the hallway. Lucius hurried past them and entered the CIC. He took a seat to his designated place among the silver generals and admirals across from his father, and he waited for the man himself to speak first.

His father sat few steps above everyone else, his golden throne glittering in the dim light of the command console on his armchair. He was reading something, or pondering on something, Lucius couldn't tell. He just waited.

"This is suicide!" Lucius's father finally said.

Lucius shifted in his seat. "My dear father," he said, "not attempting this mission will be suicide by itself. If the Bions get a hold of that weapon–"

"The Bions are chasing a wild dream, dear son of mine. And you will address me as Emperor Titus!"

Lucius knew this would happen. There was no time. He pushed himself up on his feet, leaned his body forward, and pressed his hands against the table. "Emperor Titus. The Bions have been sending archeological expeditions for years now. Our patrols have intercepted their teams even here on Palatine. I don't think they are foolish enough to send troops in our borders if they hadn't found anything of importance." Lucius swept his gaze across the table, making eye contact with every member of the Imperial council. He hoped to get their support, but he knew that it was an absurd hope. His eyes then moved up at the holographic projection of Palatine and its two moons where they rotated above the table. "My dear Emperor Titus. The weapon is here–" Lucius's finger touched one of the moons, the holograph rippled by his touch– "on Timor."

The golden emperor leaned back on his golden throne, his fist supporting his chin, and he considered his son's words for a moment. "Even so," he said, "I would never authorize my best men to be slaughtered in attempt to infiltrate that wretched place. Our ancestors left it to rot there for a reason."

"I didn't say there were no risks, but if the weapon is there we cannot allow it to fall into enemy's hands." Lucius looked at the golden man across from him, and then he said it. "I will lead this mission myself."

Emperor Titus growled. The energy field around his throne wobbled for a moment. If his legs weren't useless, Lucius was certain his father would have stood up and slapped his own son in front of the generals. But all he did was slam his fist on his armchair and shuddered with rage. A general winced. Another looked away. They all knew Emperor Titus was ruthless when it came to disobedience. He was ruthless when it came to anything but protecting his son, now that Lucius came to think of it. But Lucius was not a boy anymore. The Empire would soon rest on his shoulders, and he was ready to take the task and the burden that came along. He wanted to prove to his father that he was ready to lead his men even when the odds were not in their favor.

"Guards!" his father called. "Seal the room!"

"Don't do this, father," said Lucius, but the emperor turned to the side, ignoring his request.

Two Praetorians marched toward the door. Two more marched away from the statue of Emperor Titus and started toward the prince. Their hands were wrapped around pulse rifles in front of their chests, their metal boots echoed against the angular walls.

Generals Furius, commander of the Praetorian Guard, who sat on the other side of the table decided to stand up, to oppose this nonsense. His eyes moved from one Praetorian to another, his mouth opened to give an order to his men. But a hand from General Sentius stopped him – he discretely shook his head. Lucius looked into the eyes of the first. He could read the fear that had amassed for centuries. It was fear that reached its tipping point toward action, which was now stopped from performing. Common knowledge inside the palace was that the generals were afraid of his father, of the way he enforced his opinion over them. Disobedience sometimes meant death on Palatine. And soon it will mean the fall of the Empire if they continue keeping their mouths shut.

Emperor Titus turned to face Lucius. "I will have that base obliterated, my foolish son, and you will stay in this very room and watch the bombardment beside me, right where you belong."

Lucius backed off, his eyes scanning the approaching guards. "I belong on the battlefield where honor is earned," he said.

"There is no honor in death, you foolish boy!"

I'm not a boy. But his father was not a man to be reasoned with – he was the emperor of a decaying empire, but an emperor, nonetheless.

The guards approached him from behind, their uncertainty filling the air. One of them grabbed Lucius's wrist, the other his shoulder. Lucius's speed was unmatched by any Imperial soldier or a Praetorian Guard. It only took a blink of an eye for him to overpower both men and slam their bodies on the floor. He then jumped over the table, his body cutting through holographic Palatine, rippling the entire planet, and then he grabbed the massive crystal chandelier that hung high above the table. Another guard decided to join the hunt – he pushed two generals aside and jumped after Lucius. The prince swung his body forward and let go of the chandelier only to reach a corner between walls. The corner gave enough support to his arms and legs to hold him there for the second he needed to activate his grav-boots, and then his hands let go. His body seemed to lie on an invisible bed high above the floor. He started running on the walls, defying gravity and defying his father's order. The guard was on his heels by now. However, Lucius was faster, more agile, more adept to fight and survive.

"Seal the doors!" his father called from below. "Do not let him escape!" But escape was all that Lucius had in mind – that, and the retrieval of Jupiter's Scepter. If those savages get a hold of it...

No, they will not! Lucius promised himself. I will take the weapon myself and I will be the one to obliterate the Bions and their wretched planet. And I will prove my father that I am fit to rule and guide our pitiful Empire out of its spiraling descent. And then a new Empire shall rise to glory – the Empire of Lucius Cornelius Venator – my Empire!

The two massive doors were almost closed when Lucius came above them. He took a plunge and quickly slipped through the tight opening. His body rolled on the corridor floor until he came to a stop. Two doors slammed shut behind him. Lucius looked ahead. His eyes caught movement from both sides under the statues of his ancestors. Two more guards stepped forward. They exchanged glances between themselves before they decided to go for the prince.

Lucius didn't move. He looked back. The door toward the CIC was opening again. He looked ahead. Two Praetorians ran toward him like their metal bodies were on fire. Lucius activated his EMP cannon – a small tube slid up from his back and attached to his shoulder. The guards stopped few meters away from him. One of them turned to run back, the other turned to run toward the statues. Lucius unleashed two barely visible bursts against the fleeing guards. Their bodies collapsed the instance they were touched by the EMP.

Behind him, the doors of the CIC were open enough for the rest of the Praetorians to come out running toward the prince.

"Stop!" one of them shouted.

Lucius turned to the elevator. He knew his father would have sealed it by now. He looked up above its doors – a line of windows stretched both ways. Lucius didn't wait – he ran toward it.

With his mind he reached out to his loyal friends – Carus! Olybrius! Macrinus! His cranial transmitter was the best the Empire had to offer. His friends would receive the message no matter where on Palatine they were.

It was Olybrius who responded first, another voice speaking in Lucius's head – You have need of me, my prince?

Summon Caelus's children. We are going on Timor – Lucius responded.

Carus's gruff voice came in his head next – Timor, my prince? – he sent – There is nothing but ancient ruins–

Lucius gritted his teeth – You are my personal guard, Carus. If I say we're going into the gardens of the underworld, you will say do you need a chariot, my prince?

Umm, do you need a chariot, my prince? – said Carus's voice.

Lucius stopped under the windows. The guards were still in full sprint toward him. Forty meters until they catch you, said his cranial computer. Lucius crouched and then leaped high for the windows. His fists shattered the glass. His body went through like a Bion missile. And then he fell back on the slippery black surface of the outer palace. But before he could continue his descend downward, he smacked his fist into the surface, making a tiny hole which he used as a holding point.

The wind had slowed down, but high above ground it was still windy enough.

I need Caelus's children, Carus! – Lucius sent – Summon them and clear the port. I have my father's guards running after me.

Again, my prince?

Lucius didn't bother to reply. He was busy escaping the palace.

You will have the port cleared, my prince – said Carus.

That would leave Macrinus – Where are you, Macrinus? I need you with my ship at the port, now!

Lucius looked up from where he ejected not a moment ago. A Praetorian Guard followed him through the same crack, his body coming down like a rock. The prince let go of the hold and went on a rapid slide down. Forum Magnum started to get closer as his speed increased.

Macrinus's voice came into Lucius's head – Sorry, my prince, I am already en route to Timor. We are preparing for an all-out attack on the moon base–

Belay that order! – Lucius shouted through his thoughts and dodged an EMP burst targeted at his speeding body. The guard had an EMP pistol in his hands, struggling to aim straight as his body tumbled down.

Belay the order, my prince?

You heard what I said! It's my ship and I give orders for it!

But your father will execute me at Forum Magnum–

I will execute you if you do not obey me now.

Don't do this, Lucius. I will lose all prospects of becoming an admiral.

Lucius pushed himself sideways to avoid another EMP burst. You forget yourself, Macrinus. Soon I will name admirals and generals, and you are first on my list. Unless you bomb Timor.

Macrinus didn't transmit anything for a moment, and then – You sure know how to be nice, Lucius ... what do you need of me?

I need you to draw the fleet's fire until I reach the moon base.

Macrinus sounded confused – But the Bions don't have a fleet in orbit – wait, no, no, no! I will not fire on Imperial battleships!

You will – sent Lucius – They cannot bomb Timor. Not before I get there first.

Macrinus sent – Now I'm not worried about the emperor, and I'm not worried about becoming an admiral anymore. I'm worried about getting killed in orbit. By my own freaking fleet!

You will do fine. On my mark you will commence the attack and maneuver around the ships, do you understand? – sent Lucius.

I am afraid that I do understand.

Wait for my signal – sent Lucius, and then he focused on his landing.

The marble tiles were the least welcoming. He went in an uncontrollable roll as soon as his feet touched down.

It turned out that escaping his father's palace was the easy part. Getting past Forum Magnum was not. Lucius had to dodge EMP bursts that were now targeted not just at his legs, but at his heart as well. If they hit, his vital functions would come to a stop, and when he would wake up in the hospital the moon base would be gone. Lucius could not allow that to happen. Not before he acquires the Jupiter's Scepter.

Lucius pushed past a confused citizen that fell down. "Get out of my way!" Lucius shouted. He jumped over a woman and then stole a motorbike.

"Move aside!" Lucius shouted at Palatine's citizens, but he didn't know if they heard him because the motorbike was roaring. Surprisingly though, everyone jumped away from this speeding chunk of metal, whether they heard him or not.

Carus – Lucius sent – is the port cleared? There was no response – Carus! Lucius wondered if his father had caught his friend or maybe even shut the port down–

An EMP burst struck his motorbike. Its electronics died immediately, only its tires kept rolling like dead rubber with momentum. Lucius looked back. Two Praetorians were flying a quadcopter and shooting EMPs from above. Another burst headed toward him. Lucius leaned his motorbike to the side and dodged the burst, but now his motorbike was skidding on Forum Magnum's marble floor, sending sparks in all directions. One of the guards aimed an EMP pistol at the prince for a final shot. Lucius's cybernetic eyes caught the burst the same instant it was fired, his ears heard its slight crackle. Lucius's cranial computer calculated the EMP's trajectory and then forced his legs to propel his body upward and away just a fraction of a second before the burst smacked the motorbike. His golden body dropped down and rolled on the marble. His eyes moved up, measuring the quadcopter that now hovered above him. The same moment he heard a blast coming from his side. He turned just as a missile struck the quadcopter with a sudden explosion that shook the forum. What remained of the 'copter crashed down.

People screamed and ran away, others cursed, but Lucius was more concerned about the guards inside the wreckage. It made him sad to know these good men have lost yet another body because of him.

My lord, I have failed you – Carus said – I could not clear the port, so I brought Caelus's children here.

Lucius turned to where the missile came from. Above houses and statues of the upper capital another quadcopter was approaching.

Did you have to shoot the 'copter down? – Lucius sent toward it.

Sincere apologies, my prince – said Carus – next time I will leave them to you.

They flew above his head, four rotors flapping whirlwinds of dust, and they landed at the edge of the forum as the people cleared. Olybrius jumped out of the 'copter's cockpit and opened the bay door.

"My prince," he said in greeting when he noticed Lucius approaching, and he bowed. His long silver hair veiled his face.

Carus came down the cockpit with a grin over that bearded face of his. He slapped Lucius on his back. "You did quite the damage on your palace. I am proud of your skills." He laughed and went to help Olybrius take three human-sized tubes coated with black rock out of the bay door – the children of the sky.

Once Olybrius placed the last tube next to the 'copter, he looked up toward the palace. His synthetic muscles tensed. "We do not have much time," he said, ruby eyes squinting. "Praetorian Guards incoming on our position. We have to move."

"Where's Macrinus?" asked Carus as he opened the door to one of those tubes.

"He will be clearing our path," Lucius said.

Carus looked up. His eyes moved over the sky, and then he smiled, metal teeth reflecting the pale sun. "The boy's got more nerve than I thought," he said.

Lucius entered the tube and Carus sealed the door behind him. Now Lucius's eyes became the outer cameras. He saw Carus and Olybrius enter the other two tubes.

On your command, my prince – sent Carus.

That's when a fleet of quadcopters became visible under the sky, rushing on Lucius's position.

May the gods be with us – sent Lucius, and all three tubes launched into space.

Now the moon base was almost at their grasp.

Macrinus, commence the attack – sent Lucius.

Commencing attack, Lucius – was Macrinus's reply.

Lucius, Carus, and Olybrius were flying in rock-disguised vessels along with a swarm of real rocks. The Bions inside the base would never detect them until it was too late. But the Imperial fleet certainly knew what Lucius was up to. They sent their ships for an EMP sweep on all flying rocks in the vicinity. It turned out the admiral, whoever he was, read Lucius's intentions, and he ignored Macrinus's attack. Lucius didn't think he would be outwitted, but at least the children worked. It made the fleet busy zapping random rocks. One way or another, that gave Lucius time to get closer to the moon base.

Prepare to disengage on my mark – he sent. He waited for few more seconds to make sure they would not miss and then he gave the order – now!

All three rocks opened in space and Lucius, Carus, and Olybrius were hurled in a free fall for the moon base. Now the fleet must've detected them as they stopped zapping rocks and moved on the three men. Lucius's speed was increasing with every passing second. There was no way that an EMP burst could hit him, unless by sheer luck, and luck was something the Empire was missing for centuries.

What do we do once we land? – asked Carus.

We kill every Bion we encounter and we take what is rightfully ours – even Lucius's emotion was transmitted with those words and it was full of pride and eagerness.

Last time we met those savages on the battlefield I killed twenty-five – sent Carus – This time I intend to improve my score.

It didn't take long before all three landed on top of the moon base with a blast of sand. Lucius was almost certain that the Bions were now aware of their presence. But it didn't matter. No one was going to stop him.

Lucius moved closer to a massive satellite dish in the middle of the moon base. The dish was tilted to the side. Its base half-opened a pit. It was dark and deep and covered with ancient cables, but it was the only way in.

"Imperial ships incoming!" Carus shouted. Lucius looked up to try and spot them, and then he felt Carus's heavy hand on his back as it grabbed him and pushed him down into the abyss. Bursts of sand darkened the stars behind them, covering their plunge into the deep.

Father – Lucius sent as he fell – call off the attack. I am inside the base!

There was no reply. Something was wrong. Lucius could feel it.

Quickly after they jumped, they landed at end of the pit. Next they moved into the corridors to avoid any bombs in the open and to avoid showers of dust. Surprisingly though, there was no opposition inside the base. Lucius thought the Bions would be waiting for them like the animals they were: hidden, stalking, waiting to attack. But no attack came.

Lucius made his vision turn blue. Use thermal imaging – he sent to his friends. It was always easier to spot the Bions because of their heat even when they wore suits of metal and fabric. It would be a welcoming sight to see their red-orange forms before Lucius takes their hearts out. However, the corridors were nothing but blue. And they were shaking, relentlessly. Loose dirt fell down like rain with each blast on the surface.

Far ahead, two fallen pillars blocked their way. As Lucius came closer, a green, humanoid form leaped out from behind the closest pillar. It sent metal spikes at Lucius, which he dodged easily. Carus's cybernetic body hurled past the prince with speed and stealth like a shadow, and then with a fist he smashed the attacker's head. Another form leaped out from behind them. That one was Olybrius's easy prey. Light beam extended from his silver hand and halved the form in two.

They were green, not red, Lucius reflected. But there was no time to dwell on it. They had to be going, unless they wanted to be carried out in pieces.

Behind the pillars they went through another corridor that led them into a wide room where five more pillars of old were resting on the floor. On the round walls a dozen metal screens hung attached, covered in ancient symbols from a language long forgotten. Above them the ceiling was domed and intact of the bombardment, though it appeared not for long – huge chunk fell down barely missing the prince.

"Look at this," Carus said. He was standing over a dead body. Lucius and Olybrius moved closer to him. "It is one of the savages," Carus said.

It didn't make sense.

"They never kill their own," Olybrius said. "They are savages, but they value their lives–"

Lucius's sensors picked up movement behind him. He turned with blurring speed and brought his fist into the chest of a green form. It was squishy and warm inside, and it was quite fulfilling to take out a beating heart from his enemy. As the body fell down, Lucius realized something. "This is wrong," he said. "This body is cybernetically enhanced." Lucius looked at his bloodied hand and the piece of metal he tore from the ribcage on the way out. "It is not a Bion." He then sent – Macrinus, the reports were wrong. Tell my father to cease bombardment. There are Imperials here.

Macrinus reply came quickly – Something is happening, Lucius. The Praetorian fleet is moving over the palace. I am reading reports about riots on Palatine ... Wait! My prince, your father. He – he's dead...

What? – the outburst of anger and surprise made his connection flicker for a moment.

I think it's the Praetorians, my prince – sent Macrinus – Their fleet – it's, it's moving on our position. They're opening fire–! And his transmission ended with an outburst of surprise, confusion, and then finally silence.

"Nooooooo!" Lucius screamed.

Carus came in rushing. "My prince?" he said. "Are you okay?"

"Macrinus," Lucius mumbled, "my father ... they ..."

"This one's alive!" called Olybrius.

It felt like a magnet to the prince, pulling his feet closer to Olybrius. His mind still wrapped around Macrinus's transmission. He couldn't believe what was happening ... riots? Praetorians attacking their own? Killing the man they sworn to protect? Killing his friend ...

Lucius reached Olybrius. He looked down at his feet. The body on the floor was clearly a Bion. His suit radiated red aura, something that the attackers earlier were missing. The wound on his stomach was a splatter of hot red. The savage was alive, but it didn't seem he would stay that way for long.

"His suit is pierced," said Olybrius, "He's leaking oxygen."

"And he's leaking red fluid," Carus added.

Lucius kneeled and grabbed the savage by the shoulder straps on his suit. He shook him. "What happened here? Who attacked you? Where is Jupiter's Scepter?" As if the Bion would understand a word even if he could hear it. Lucius switched his vision back to regular, and glared at the savage. He was pale, his eyes wide and black in the darkness, his blinking slow, almost sleepy. The savage muttered something then coughed blood that splattered the insides of his visor.

"What did he say?" asked Carus.

The savage's lips moved while Lucius's cranial computer gave voice to his words. "Eve ... Eve ..."

"You know their language, Olybrius," said Carus. "Translate, would you?"

"He said Eve. I don't know what that is."

Jupiter's Scepter, thought Lucius, they call it Eve.

"There is still hope," the savage said in Imperial tongue that surprised all three.

"Hope?" asked Carus. And then something glinted in the savage's hand. Carus crouched and opened it. A polished sphere rolled out.

"Eve..." the savage muttered with his final breath and his eyes remained opened but dead and unblinking. The sphere started beeping. Lucius and Olybrius locked eyes in sudden realization that the beeping was a countdown, and then there was a flash of light, a sharp pain in every part of Lucius's body, a dreadful feeling of impending death...

And then it came. Utter blackness.
AILIOS

It was a murky morning. Mist had covered the green land that stretched beyond what any man could see. And even though Ailios couldn't see behind the mist he knew there was a crowd gathered outside to watch him suffer. He could hear their faint murmur drifting into his cell. Ailios craned his neck to look through the small hole of a window, to see the sky. The rain that poured all night had turned into a thin drizzle. The thought of all those people damp and wet drew a barely visible smile on his face. But the smile left his face as quickly as it appeared. He would become damp and wet very soon as well; Water wasn't one of his favorite elements. Well, it could've been worse, he thought. Imagine being executed on a fine sunny day. And those days were rare on Talam. At least Ifrin is warmer. His soul would forever burn in its rivers.

It was pathetic, now that Ailios came to think of it, that the greatest man that made so many women happy and saved his people (or so he would like to think) was sitting in a cold cell, sentenced to die. Being sentenced to prison for all eternity sounded worse, he had to admit. However, murder was punishable by death on Talam, so he knew what to expect.

For a moment he wondered if there would be anyone on Talam who would miss him after he's gone. Maybe Shaila? No, he slept with her once, right before the accident. But hey, he remembered her name; that was something. How about Jordaine? Or was it Isbeil? Nope. She threw his boots at his face and cursed him to die. She was definitely out there, waiting for his execution. Okay, who else? Baltair maybe? Well, he was the closest thing to a friend, the annoying bastard he was, but he was a good man. I found one who would probably miss me and it's not a woman, thought Ailios. Such a pity.

His hand moved involuntarily to his throat. His fingers rubbed the triangular piece of glass that hung on his leather necklace. Was it worth it? he wondered.

And then he heard footsteps beyond the door, splashing in pools of water. He heard keys rattling, and the door to his cell swung open.

"Your time has come, criminal," said a tall man with a spear.

"Does that mean I'm free to go?"

The man grunted and hit the butt of his spear on the floor. "Out," he said.

Ailios stood up and shrugged. "You did say my time has come," he said, but the man didn't honor him with response.

The guard tied Ailios's hands behind his back and pushed him out. At that moment, Ailios felt an undeniable urge to run away. He knew the mist would cover his escape. He also knew that the guard was a good spear thrower. Maybe there were few more guards with real weapons that he couldn't see. Besides, Ailios was a climber, a quiet mover, not a runner. He could never outrun the guard.

He exhaled. His feet walked him through the clearing mist, damp grass and mud squishing under his boots. A gentle breeze touched his face. He stopped then. His nostrils flared, his lungs filled with air. Ah, the smell after rain. He tried to savor it for one last time.

"Move," he heard, and started walking again. Soon they reached a circle of pillars under the open sky, where on a dais right in front of them sat three people. Ailios couldn't help but notice how plump the man sitting on the left was. He wore black suit as if to make his frame smaller. How funny is that? The zip on his belly made a short slide down under his chest. For a moment it looked like it would pop any second now and open a doorway into Ifrin's fatty fields – black and awfully hairy fields. Ailios turned to look at the other man that sat on the right. He had a tattooed face and wore a military uniform. Ailios recognized the tattoos: two beheaded Imperial eagles under his left eye – a mark of two hundred Cyons he killed; and five stars under his right eye, pierced by the silver spear of Segomo – a mark of five Cyon noblemen he killed in hand-to-hand combat. He's a member of the hunters' tribe.

Between both men sat a woman. Ailios first looked at her breasts, only to be slightly disappointed. She was flat as a board, and thin. Even her face was a frame of bones. She does have nice lips, though.

Ailios looked around. The crowd stood in between pillars, peering above guards' heads with every chance they could get. Their faces were happy, but damp. And the drizzle was gone when Ailios looked up. He was the only man out here that was dry; him and his guard – a small victory worthy of smile.

"May the accused step forward," said the woman on the dais. Ailios felt the tip of the spear on his back. One step at a time, he got closer, to see his executioners better. The man on the right was definitely military. The woman in the middle wasn't as pretty as an average woman on Talam, but she would do if need be. The fat man on the left was a priest in the Temple of Sirona, Ailios realized when he noticed the goddess's curled snake sewed around his left arm. For a moment Ailios thought he recognized the man, though he couldn't remember where from.

"The accused is clearly guilty," mumbled the priest. He sounded as if he had some food leftovers in his mouth and was still chewing.

"How did you tell?" asked Ailios. "Is it the hair? I think it's the hair–"

"Silence!" shouted the woman. "You will speak only when you are addressed to. Is that understood?"

A fiery woman, thought Ailios. Maybe she was prettier than he first thought. "Understood," he said.

Someone shouted from the crowd, "Murderer!" Ailios looked to his left where the shout came from. A woman waved her fist threateningly.

Did I sleep with her too? he wondered.

"Silence!" the woman on the dais shouted again. Her eyes moved down on a piece of paper she held in her hands. She read something and raised her eyes back up. "You have been accused of killing five hundred people. How do you plead?"

"Guilty! Murderer!"

Ailios looked to his other side this time where the shout came from. Another woman cried for his death. Oh, c'mon, he thought. Someone stirred uncomfortably beside her. Baltair. That sneaky bastard. And I thought he was going to miss me ...

"Silence!" the woman shouted again. The guards had to interfere to calm the crowd.

Once they settled, Ailios said, "Not guilty."

"Liar! Guilty!"

The fat priest smacked his lips. He said, "I have to agree with these people – he is guilty and a liar."

What's his problem? Ailios wondered.

The woman turned to face the priest. "Gailion, let the man talk." So his name's Gailion ... But still doesn't ring a bell. Two dark eyes in that bony face of hers moved back to Ailios. "What is the proof of your innocence?" she asked.

"Those people you claim I killed were not human," Ailios said. "They were cybernetically enhanced. They were Cyons."

"Blasphemy!" screamed Gailion, his jowls quivering. "Humans do not use cybernetic enhancements. That is blasphemy! And if they were indeed Cyons, as you claim, they would've never entered an ancient temple. Admit it, murderer, those people you killed were human!"

"Guilty! Guilty!"

"Look, I know what I saw. The first man I fought lost his arm. I can tell you, it didn't break as a normal arm should." Actually, Ailios broke the man's arm with his spear and with lots of effort before the man could get a chance to kill him – but he did saw a metal bone once it came off.

"A-ha!" Gailion slapped his belly and then pointed his finger at Ailios. "So you do admit that you killed a fellow human!"

"No. I entered the temple–"

"To steal ancient relics!" Gailion shouted again, sweat glistened on his forehead. "Admit it! You're nothing but a thief and a liar!"

"And I thought you were a priest not a judge," muttered Ailios.

"For gods' sake, let the man speak," the woman said.

"Thank you, my lady," Ailios had to say. That man was really annoying.

"I am no lady. You will address me as Judge Maira."

Ailios realized he liked her even more now. I've never slept with a judge before. "As I was saying, I entered the temple–"

"Thief! Guilty!" screamed the crowd.

"Judge Maira," said Ailios once the guards calmed the crowd, "I think you should start executing these people. Can't you see how annoying they are?"

"Silence!" she answered. Ailios shrugged. They would never listen. How could they ever believe that humans would become cybernetically enhanced? Even to Ailios it sounded impossible. And what the man said was true – Cyons would never enter an ancient temple. Something was amiss.

"I demand this criminal to be executed," said Gailion and wiped the sweat on his face with a napkin.

"What is your problem?" Ailios finally asked. "It's not like I killed your wife out there or anything–"

"No, but you slept with her!" Veins trailed on Gailion's red sweaty face.

"Oh." Suddenly Ailios remembered. It was a rainy day like any other on Talam, and the woman asked him for help with the water machine. Not that Ailios knew how to fix it, but he did know how to fix women's problems, and he fixed hers quite well as he was fond to remember. Yes, that was it. Gailion caught him with his pants down. Literally. Luckily, Ailios was a good climber. He was out of his house through the chimney in no time ...

"Guilty!" the crowd screamed.

"Well, I am for that," Ailios said.

"He must be executed!" shouted Gailion.

Judge Maira slammed her palm on the table. "Would you shut up!"

Gailion closed his mouth, but he was smoldering. Sweat trickled down his jowls like water. Another small victory for Ailios. Maybe she's starting to like me.

"I am afraid there is no proof of your claims," said the judge and exhaled. "You destroyed an ancient temple and killed every human being inside. Sentence for such crime is death and a curse so you may forever burn in Ifrin's rivers." She looked at Gailion who nodded at her, and then she turned back to Ailios. "Also, your DNA won't be extracted, as we don't want failed genetics to blemish our pool of future selection. After your death, your DNA won't be recycled into a new body. These are your final moments on Talam. Enjoy them."

This is ridiculous, thought Ailios. They were Cyons, not humans. I saved your lives, you ungrateful idiots! He wanted to scream for all the good it would do.

Judge Maira waved her hand. "Take him away." The same tall guard that brought him here walked closer and prodded Ailios on his back. They walked behind the dais and climbed a bunch of stony steps all the way up so everyone could see him die. What a show. And as a bonus the crowd cheered happily.

Once he was up, he was forced to kneel before gods and men to show his humility and accept the axe that was about to smite his neck and end his existence.

The judge raised her hand and the crowed silenced. "Any final words, Mr. Ailios?"

Oh, I'm not the accused anymore, am I? "In fact, I have," he said and looked at the crowd, and then at the three people sitting on the dais, for a long moment.

"Well?" urged the judge.

Ailios smiled. "Make sure Gailion's wife is taken care of."

Gailion's jowls trembled, his hands curled into fists. "I want his head on a platter!" He even spat pieces of food as he said that.

I hope the headsman misses, thought Ailios, and you get a splattered brains on that platter of yours. Ailios put his head on the stone, cold as the death itself, and waited to leave the world. He then felt something warm his cheek. His eyes caught a strange warming light through his eyelids. He could almost feel the skies open for the first time in years. And now the sun mocks me.

Ailios opened his eyes only to squint. "Do you plan to kill me or roast me to death?" But as his vision adapted to the light another shape formed in front of the executioner. It was the tattooed man in uniform. He kneeled beside Ailios while the crowd murmured.

"Congratulations, Mr. Ailios. You just passed your first test."

"You mean how quickly they can frustrate me?" Ailios asked, his face still pressed against the stone.

"No. How quickly you accepted death."

"Who said I accepted it?" asked Ailios, but all he got was a thin smile. "What do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want from you, it's what I have that you want from me."

"What? Is this another test? Because now I'm confused," said Ailios. "I seriously have no idea what you just said."

"I'm willing to give you back your life and your freedom."

Ailios narrowed his eyes, part because of the sun, part because of his suspicion. "Because...?"

"...Because I need someone with your skill set. You killed five hundred cybernatically enhanced humans..."

"...So you do believe they were Cyons, don't you?"

"What they were is a mystery to us, but they were no Cyons, I can promise you that."

And I can promise you I didn't kill them, thought Ailios, but now was not the time for trivial matters. "Why didn't you defend me back there when you knew what these people were?"

The man turned his gaze to the crowd. He said quietly, "Let's not scare anyone, shall we?"

Ailios gave himself a moment to consider this. "Okay, you give me back my freedom and I do what?"

The man looked back at Ailios. "You find their main base and you take it out, just like you did with the temple."

"And how do I do that?" asked Ailios, intrigued to some extent.

"We've been monitoring your actions closely, Mr. Ailios, we know of your every exploit..."

"Are you talking about the women?"

"I'm talking about the temples you violated, artifacts you have stolen. Should I continue?" Ailios opened his mouth to speak, but the man raised his hand and stopped him. "We are ready to give you full pardon if you cooperate with us. And you can keep your relics."

"Hmm ... so you want me to find the main base of these not-Cyons and not-humans, and you want me to destroy it, is that it?"

"Yes."

"And I get a full pardon."

"Exactly."

Ailios narrowed his eyes again. "Why don't you do it yourself?"

"Our forces are already stretched thin as it is. We are preparing to defend Talam."

"Defend it from what? It's not like the emperor will attack us now after fifty years of peace."

"The emperor is dead, Mr. Ailios. He was a lazy son of bitch for the last fifty years, it's true. We expected his son would take over, and we know how blood-thirsty he was. You certainly had no way of knowing inside your cell, but Lucius didn't become the new emperor. He died in the riots. Our intel says it's someone else, but even our reports cannot confirm his identity. Mr. Ailios, the Cyons will try to obliterate us. We do not have the time neither the resources to search for this sect of cybernetically enhanced humans. We need someone with skill and cunning and certainly someone who is not afraid of dying to do this task for us. That is where you come in."

"Oh, I am afraid of dying," said Ailios, remembering how he almost died the last time he encountered these people, and even now that he was about to lose his head. "Contrary to what may seem, I do treasure my life and I don't accept my death as easily as you think. Especially not when I know my genes won't be coming back."

"I am afraid the alternative is as grim as it gets." The man tapped the stone where Ailios's head was firmly laid upon. "You will have full access to military-grade weapons and equipment, and you will have the best ship our fleet has to offer. All you have to do is find their base. You already did that once."

It was pure damn luck, Ailios thought. But at least he would live another day. "Will I get paid for this?" he asked.

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Ailios. Our offer is generous enough as it is."

"Well, then," Ailios said, "I accept. Can I get untied now?"

The man stood up, and not long after that, Ailios's binds were down. The guard raised him to his feet.

"Follow me, Mr. Ailios," said the man and led Ailios down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Gailion said from below, his eyes wide open. "He is guilty! Where are you taking him?"

The crowd shouted, "Guilty! Death! Guilty!"

"I demand that you execute this criminal!" Gailion screamed as both Ailios and the military man passed him by. "Hey! You can't do this!"

Ailios turned to Judge Maira. He winked. She smiled.

Then he turned to Gailion. This time Ailios was the one who smiled.
LUCIUS

He never dreamed before, or at least not that he could remember. Now it was all vivid for a fraction of a moment. Lucius was a boy in his dream, without any cybernetics. He looked more like those Bion savages, with organic skin and bones that hurt. His hand hurt, and his butt.

The grass felt so soft under his touch. Lucius wanted to caress it, but the boy in his dream didn't. He looked up instead. The sun shone brighter than ever, its warmth more palpable than ever. There were no clouds, no ashes, no dust. It was only the sun and it was beautiful.

The sound of laughter echoed in his ears. Laughter from another boy. Lucius turned to see him. His face was round and gentle with a smile worth treasures. The boy was still laughing and pointing at Lucius. Lucius remembered he had fallen from a swing, that's why his hand hurt. He started laughing all of a sudden. It was funny.

"Oliver," a woman called. "Oliver, don't be rude. Help him. Can't you see he's hurt?" She spoke in a tongue different than Lucius knew, but somehow he could understand what she said. She rushed to his aid. Her blonde hair wavered in the breeze. The scent of it was unbelievably sweet. It was the smell of flowers, of summer ... of roses, a voice in his head said. Lucius didn't know what roses were, or summer for that matter. He was so used to smelling metal and rust and dirt that this new scent came almost as a shock to his senses.

"I am sorry, mom," Oliver said. He gave a hand to Lucius and helped him stand up. And then the dream dissolved.

It was strange. What sort of name is Oliver? Lucius wondered. He never heard of such name. But the dream itself was more than strange. Lucius never thought about being a Bion boy, never wanted it either. He despised them, was all he did.

Suddenly his mind went from his dream to reality. He could feel his entire body floating as if suspended in zero-g. He felt weak, slow, vulnerable even. His legs were different. He could feel them, but they were different in a way he could not understand. His heart was pumping energy, but it too was slow, as if not sufficient to keep his cybernetic body function properly. His head hurt, a feeling he had not known before. And then he remembered – he was on Timor when the bomb went off.

Lucius opened his eyes in panic, gasped in surprise that he was still alive. Immediately, blinding light stung his eyes in such pain that he had not thought was possible.

"Easy now," said a male voice behind the brightness.

"I can't see."

"It's okay. Your eyes need time to adapt. They haven't been used before."

"My voice..." Lucius's hand wanted to move, to touch his throat, but it couldn't. It was restricted somehow.

"You'll get used to it," was the response he got.

The man was right, about the eyes at least – the brightness was slowly receding. An image of an old workshop was hiding behind it, stacked with cybernetic parts beyond its capacity. The man's metal head moved in front of Lucius's face, his green robotic eyes scanned him.

"Where am I?" asked Lucius. "Who are you?"

"My name is Modius, Your Highness. I am a doctor." He then moved aside to show the three people standing behind him. "This is Clodius," he pointed at a tall man with four cybernetic legs and two sets of arms. "He is our chief engineer." Clodius bowed. "This is Arrius," Modius pointed at the man standing next to him – a tall man, nearly as tall as Clodius, but with two legs with reverse joints. He had black synthetic skin over his head and arms. His upper body was clad in metal vest with Imperial fleet insignia and the golden eagle of the empire. On his shoulders he had two golden suns holding his blue cape that reached behind his reverse knees. And he had a long sword attached to his belt. "He is the captain of Battleship Aquila," Modius added, and Arrius's blue glowing eyes blinked in admission. He then bowed slightly. Four metal circles shone on top of his bald head. "And this," said Modius as he moved aside, "is Commander Valeria, second in command." She was slim and good-looking, her body carved in Venus's image. Her hair was a tail of thick blue wires that hung to her lower back. Her eyes were blue as well, undoubtedly made for combat. Her entire body was pure Imperial steel coated with decorative elements of silver – a girl of noble birth.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," she said and bowed.

"Valeria," said Lucius, pondering on her name. "Are you by chance a daughter of Admiral Valieran Maximus?"

Her metal mouth and eyebrows took a downturn. "He was my father, Your Highness."

"Was?" Lucius asked.

"He died defending the emperor."

Where his place should be, thought Lucius. "A true soldier," he said, and then moved his eyes at Doctor Modius. "I presume this is the infirmary on Aquila."

"You presume well, Your Highness," Modius said.

"Good. Now take me to my palace," said Lucius. "I have a score to settle and an empire to rule."

All four exchanged glances. Modius rubbed his hands nervously as if wondering how to say his next words.

"Say what you have, doctor, and get me to my palace."

"Umm, that might be impossible at this time, Your Highness."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Impossible, you say?"

Arrius stepped forward. "Palatine has fallen."

"Fallen?" Lucius almost choked on the word. "I will smash those Bion savages for the insult!"

"They were not Bions, Your Highness," Arrius said. "It was the Praetorian Guard."

Suddenly Lucius remembered. Macrinus's voice played back in his head – Something is happening, Lucius. The Praetorian fleet is moving over the palace. I am reading reports about riots on Palatine ... Wait! My prince, your father, he – he's dead! Lucius's eyes opened wide. "Furius," he said. It was only logical that Furius was behind it. He was the General of the Praetorian Guard.

"No, Your Highness," said Arrius, "they found General Furius dead inside the palace, right before the Praetorian Guard made their move. It was someone else."

Lucius felt a sudden heat rising from the inside. He gritted his teeth. "Give me his name."

"No one knows who he is," said Valeria. "A ghost, some say, come to haunt us for our wrong doings."

"Ghosts don't need a fleet." Lucius tried to move, yet somehow he was restricted. He turned left and then right. His arms were tied, but ... they were not his arms. They were old, rusty, simple steel. His right hand was a claw. Suddenly the heat inside arose to a whole different level. "What have you done to me?"

Modius winced. "Your Highness, it was the best we could do–"

"The best? I will have you executed for this insult!"

"No, Your Highness, Modius is right," said Clodius, his metal legs clanking nervously in place. "When we found you on the moon base your head was the only thing that remained of you. Thanks to your royal birth you had the best skull that was ever forged. It served its purpose, your brain was safe. But everything else was vaporized, even the wires on your neck. We had to replace all of it. Your Highness, if it weren't for the doctor's genius you would be dead."

"Genius? Genius? I will have both your heads for this!" Modius and Clodius lowered their heads. "Arrius, untie me!" Arrius stepped forward. He took out the sword from his belt and with two clean slashes both Lucius's arms were free. Lucius then gave commands to his legs to move, but they were oddly different, unstable somehow. He looked down and his heart nearly stopped functioning. "Wheels," he said. "You gave me wheels?"

"We do not have humanoid legs, Your Highness," said Modius. "Even Clodius has four legs from a cyber spider."

"I do not care about you insignificant beings!" Lucius's claw grabbed Modius by his neck and pulled him closer down. "I had a body of Imperial steel and gold. I want it back!"

"I am afraid, you cannot have it back, Your Highness," said Clodius.

Lucius turned and gave him a long stare of death. "You are next, Clodius."

"Your Highness," Arrius interfered, "if you kill the doctor there won't be anyone left to improve your body once we get the parts you need."

Lucius's bloodthirsty stare moved on Arrius.

"Modius is the only doctor we have left," said Arrius.

Lucius let go of Modius, his teeth gritted to a point where it hurt. He rolled closer to the captain. "What do you mean he is the only doctor we have left?"

"Aquila is the only battleship class vessel we have," said the captain and lowered his head like a guilty child.

"What?" Lucius tightened a fist and a claw. "Where are my other battleships?"

"They um ... they–"

"Say it!"

"They surrendered to the Praetorians." Cowards. Pitiful Cowards. "No one knows you are alive, Your Highness."

"Then inform them."

"There is no way we can inform the other ship captains without the Praetorian Guard intercepting our transmission. If they realize you didn't die on Timor, I am afraid they will launch every ship they have to find you."

"Then let them find me."

"You do not understand, Your Highness. We are in no position to engage in battle at this moment."

Lucius fought the urge to strangle the captain and everyone else in the infirmary. "How many ships do we have and what class are they?"

"We have forty ships under your command," said Arrius. Forty ... forty ships out of four hundred. "We have one battleship, ten fighters, and twenty-nine merchant frigates."

Lucius couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You are saying that I command a fleet of merchant ships?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"How do I get my Empire back with freaking merchant ships?"

"We have a battle plan, Your Highness."

"A battle plan? You mean a trade plan, captain. What sort of battle plan involves twenty-nine merchant ships?"

"We plan to raid Imperial convoys and bases, Your Highness. You do know the location of all military bases, do you not?"

Lucius closed his eyes. "Explain to me, captain, how are we going to raid a military base with merchant frigates?"

"You are the emperor, Your Highness, we do not doubt your genius."

A tiny voice in Lucius's head whispered, putting a salt over his wound, you wanted to show your father you could lead your men in battle even when the odds were not in your favor. Well here's your freaking chance. Somehow he managed to get back his composure. "Captain, commander, I want all ship captains at the CIC in ten." He then tried to drive himself toward the door. "Can't this freaking thing go any faster?"

"You need to press the turbo button on your thigh, Your Highness," said Modius.

Lucius was seconds away from bursting again, but he pressed the button without saying a word. It didn't go any turbo as it said, it just didn't go as slow as before. "Modius," said Lucius as he neared the door. "As soon as I get my legs back I will have you executed." And he left the infirmary.

All of the ship captains were inside the CIC few minutes earlier. They were seated at a round table that had a tactical map of the solar system projected above it. Some of them stared at the emperor's fleet, which was now a cluster of green dots running away from Palatine and toward the edge of the system. Lucius was standing on his wheels under his knees to appear taller than the rest – he was the emperor after all – and he was eyeing everyone. They are here for glory, he was certain, and noble titles. But there were two captains that caught his eyes – one of them was robotically-looking, while the other was a clear Bion copy with their long organic hair and skin visible on his exposed parts: his face, his neck, and from his elbows down. Lucius thought the two captains were no merchants, but pirates or smugglers, or maybe both. These two could be resourceful. "Your names," he said.

"Captain Lartius of the Falling Star at your service," said the first. His vocal cords were badly damaged. He sounded almost like one of those ancient robots Lucius had seen in the Imperial Museum.

The second bowed. "Captain Frang of the Silent Wind, Your Highness, the best ship captain in your merchant fleet." Somehow Lucius didn't doubt that.

"Frang," Lucius said, "your name is not of an Imperial origin."

Captain Frang looked warily at the other captains and said, "I trade with the Bion tribes, Your Highness."

Trade or raid, I wonder? "What brings you here, captain?"

"I came to serve the true emperor."

You came to serve your own cause. Lucius decided to keep an eye on him. The emperor then moved his eyes to the rest of his captains. "Each of you will be greatly rewarded for your service," he said. And as he suspected, captain Frang's eyes glittered at the prospect. "Our cause is just, ladies and gentlemen, as I, Lucius Cornelius Venator, am the true emperor. I will not lie to you. The Imperial fleet has four hundred military class vessels at their disposal. One hundred of those are of the Praetorian Guard. And you are right," he said. He could read their faces pretty well, their doubts and fear. "We would not be entering in direct battles unless absolutely necessary. Our top priority will be to acquire military technology as much as we can. We will upgrade each of our ships with weapons worthy of battleships. We will upgrade our bodies with weapons worthy of the Praetorian Guard. And we will win this battle, no matter how desperate it may seem." Every captain had a smile on his face by now, not a trace of their fear was left. Look at this, father. I can inspire them better than you ever could. "I want your names and genealogy and your military experience, if any, delivered to my cranial computer immediately. I want to know who I am dealing with so I can give you assignments that match your competence."

"Umm, about that," said Valeria as she leaned to his ear. "Your cranial computer was damaged. Doctor Modius had to take it out."

By now Lucius was used to bad news. He just looked at her and asked, "Anything else I should know, commander?"

She hesitated and Lucius rolled his eyes. Gods, I'm surrounded with imbeciles. "Your cranial transmitter was swapped with another..."

"...let me guess: with another transmitter from different era."

"It is old, Your Highness, yes, but Modius had to swap them, so the new emperor–"

"Commander, there is only one emperor, and his name is Lucius Cornelius Venator. Don't ever forget that."

"Apologies, Your Highness," she said. "What I meant was that the usurper can track your transmitter wherever in the system you are. Now, at least, we won't have to worry about that." She paused for a moment staring at his tense face. "If it gives you any consolation, Your Highness, all of us had our transmitters swapped. Now we can only communicate within the fleet."

"It does not give me any consolation, commander," said Lucius, but for once he thought they did the right thing. He then turned to the captains. "You will send me your personal data at the Aquila's main computer. You will also send me a full inventory of everything you have on your ships. I want to know how much fuel you have, how many weapons and batteries you have and which type they are. I want to know what sort of cargo you carry. You will send me everything you have. If any of you need equipment or fuel you will send me a request with your inventory. After I review your data, you will have your assignments and everything you need that we can spare. Dismissed."
AILIOS

"Do you honestly believe that we'll be searching for a sect of cybernetically enhanced humans?" asked a tiny man with grayish skin, same as the briefing room's walls. A chameleon, thought Ailios. He is already afraid and changed his color. "I mean the military could wipe them out in like a day or so, why bother to send us?"

"Because they are preparing to defend Talam, you idiot," said another man, sitting right next to Ailios. He had a metal ball levitating above his palm. Mover. Those were one of the most powerful humans that ever existed. Ailios had heard a story that a mover once brought down an entire city to the ground. I hope he doesn't accidentally drop the ceiling down. Ailios's eyes moved up to make sure the ceiling didn't move, and then down again. A girl with long golden hair sat in front of him. She turned and gave him a smile. He smiled back. I wonder what's your talent, babe?

She winked at him.

Oh, she likes me already.

"What if that's exactly what they want us to think, huh?" asked the chameleon. He stood up and walked to the window, turning his back on the rest of the group. "I bet they're sending us to die."

"If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead. Trust me, I know," said the mover. "I was waiting to have my head chopped off when they made me an offer that helped me keep this beauty for another day."

You too, huh? But Ailios didn't say anything. He first wanted to observe this weird bunch.

Right next to Ailios from his left sat a thick-necked man with arms bigger than Ailios's legs; a brute, no doubt about it. Only their kind had such muscles that could smash a Cyon's head with nothing but a squeeze.

With a deep gruff voice he asked the mover, "What did you do?"

"I crashed one of the fleet's vessels," the mover replied with a shrug.

"A pilot, eh?" asked the brute.

"Gods, no. I'm a civilian, but I tried to help the fleet once. Their ship was starting to lose orbit and it was going to crash on Talam. I had the luck of flying close by, so I grabbed the ship in my thoughts and I tried to steer it away from the planet. But, um, they weren't going to crash, they were just testing new battle maneuvers and I burned their engines by moving them against their will, so um ... yeah, the ship did crash eventually."

The brute smiled, showing his teeth, sharp and long like a hunter cat's. And then he chortled in his deep voice. Ailios couldn't help but smile as well. It was damn funny to see a big guy chortle like that.

"What about you, muscles?" asked the mover. "What's your story?"

The brute raised his chin high. "I killed my superior officer," he said. Ailios gulped, and then exchanged glances with the mover.

The mover asked. "Why did you do that?"

"He was vexing me."

"Vexing you?"

"He was a coward. He kept our group on a tight leash, if you know what I mean."

"He didn't let you fight, did he?" asked the mover. Ailios had known brutes for a long time, bloodthirsty sons of bitches. They had this uncontrollable hunger for death, and if they couldn't satisfy it, they would kill some of their own. Something like a natural selection – only the fittest of their tribe survived. And this brute seemed old enough.

"We were attacking a Cyon encampment in Tarsa. Those cybernetic rats were hiding in the ancient ruins. My superiors thought they were planning sabotage missions against the nearby tribes. So one night we paid them a visit. But the Cyon cowards laid traps all over the place. Nearly half of our force was dead before we even reached their camp. The rest of our men died in battle. That's when my superior ordered retreat."

"And you didn't like it," said the mover.

"We had just reached their encampment, of course I didn't like it. I hate to think our men died for nothing. I claimed my superior officer's head first and then smashed every Cyon rat that I could find."

"I suppose they didn't give you any medals for that," said the mover.

The brute snorted. "They had me in cryosleep for years. But now, they have awoken the beast," and his two long teeth shone viciously. After the story his smile wasn't as appealing as before. Ailios gulped and didn't smile anymore. I don't want to mess with that guy, he thought.

The mover turned toward Ailios. "What about you, cat eyes? Why are you here?"

Ailios looked at the brute, then at the girl in front, then at the chameleon who was still standing at the window and looking in the distance, before he stopped at the mover. "It's got to be my hair," Ailios said and trailed his fingers over that thick black mane of his. The brute and the girl smiled, but the mover didn't. His ball dropped in his hand and he gripped it.

"That bush growing on your head is the least appealing, I can assure you. It's not that."

"No?" said Ailios. "Then maybe it's the muscles." He flexed his arms.

"You don't have any muscles," said the mover. "You have cat's eyes so you can see in the dark. You have strong forearms which mean you're a climber. The way you entered the room was way too quiet for an ordinary man. I'd say you're a thief."

"And I'd say I'm a lover." Ailios smiled. The mover just stared, ball tight in his grip.

"We're all bunch of criminals here," said the chameleon, turning to face them, "the scum of all tribes. No one cares about us. I am telling you – they're sending us to die."

The mover stared at Ailios for a long moment, and then he let his ball float again. With a finger he turned it round and round. "They told me I'm free to go once the mission is over."

"They told me the same," said the chameleon. "I'm sure they told everyone the exact same story – full pardon and freedom, but I'm telling you, as soon as the mission is over they will kill us."

Ailios leaned back on his chair. "You're too negative, my grayish fellow," he said.

"Negative? Didn't you just hear the brute's story–?"

"The name's Faragar," said the brute.

"I apologize, Faragar, but you are too dangerous–"

"Damn right I am," Faragar said.

"Do you think they will let him back into his tribe again? Or look at the mover–"

"It's Luthis," said the mover. "I hate being called the mover. It gives away my abilities."

Ailios couldn't help himself but say, "Hmm, and I thought the ball levitated by itself."

Luthis shot him with a glare. "This ball can go right through your skull. By itself."

"You see, that's where my hair comes–" and in that instant, the ball started getting closer toward Ailios's face. His reflex made him move to the side just a fraction of a second before the ball whooshed by his head and smashed into the wall behind.

Luthis then smiled. "So you're fast as well. I wonder how they caught you stealing."

And I wonder why you were truly sentenced to die. Ailios was certain that Luthis's story was a fake one, or maybe tweaked a little, judging by his intent to kill another human being so quickly.

"Guys, please," said the chameleon. He took his seat again and leaned closer to the group. "As soon as we have a ship we must make a run for it."

"Run?" asked Faragar. "Faragar doesn't run."

"We can leave you somewhere if you like, but trust me, they don't plan to let us go even after we finish this mission."

That's when the door opened and the same tattooed man in uniform that drafted Ailios entered. He strode toward a circular table in front of everyone and stopped. "Good evening gentlemen, lady. I am Major Ailig, your commanding officer for this mission. You already know why you are here, so I'll make it quick." He tapped a button on the table and an image of planet Talam appeared above it. "Five days ago, a group of cybernetically enhanced humans violated one of our sacred temples." The map zoomed in on a temple close to their current location at the outskirts of the city An Dun. "Twenty-four hours later, their numbers grew by the hundreds." The last sentence seemed to get everyone's attention.

"You mean more of them came," said Luthis part as a question part as a statement.

Major Ailig paused for a long moment. "I wish that was the case," he said. "Unfortunately, their numbers grew inside the temple."

"Impossible," said Luthis, his smile wide with disbelief. "Not a single human has been born in the last thousand years. They must've recycled their own DNA, or maybe they have stolen some from our own databanks from the Temple of Sirona. Besides, not even the Cyons have been able to reproduce, so whether they are cyberneticaly enhanced or not, it doesn't change the fact that they can't grow their numbers at all, let alone so quickly."

"That is a concern we all share, Mr. Luthis. If this sect has found a way to reproduce and grow their numbers exponentially, then that alone could change the outcome of this war. You all know the odds we are facing: five hundred thousand humans against four million Cyons. This upcoming battle will be our last, I assure you. We cannot fight the Cyons and this sect at the same time. However, we can use the sect's know-how to increase our numbers and once and for all to put an end of the Cyon domination."

"Gods, this was worse than I thought," mumbled the chameleon.

"First of all, I don't believe this is true," said Luthis. "And second of all," he looked at the chameleon and then back at the major, "why do you send us?"

"Mr. Luthis, every human that can fight has been drafted in the United Defense Force. Our combined fleet consists of not more than sixty battleships and ninety support vessels. The Cyons have two hundred battleships plus that much support vessels. Feel free to calculate our odds."

"Why aren't we drafted then?" asked Luthis.

"You are. But not in the UDF."

Luthis crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair. "This is ridiculous," he said.

"Mr. Luthis, if you have second thoughts, I would gladly return you to your execution."

Luthis was quiet thenceforth.

"Your primary objective is destruction of this sect before they can turn into a greater threat than they already are. Your secondary objective will be to retrieve any information about their ways of reproduction. Now, before we proceed, I would ask you to take out a syringe from the box beside your seats." Ailios looked to his left then to his right and found the box. It was a small rectangular plastic that opened with a touch on the surface. He took the syringe and tried to examine it.

Ailios was certain he heard the chameleon whisper, "Poison."

"What you hold in your hands is a new addition to your DNA, which will improve–" said the major, but he stopped when a hiss coming from Ailios's left caught his attention. Faragar had injected himself and he squeezed the empty syringe with two gigantic fingers. The glass cracked under the pressure.

"What do I do now?" he asked as he swiped his palm over the table to clear the shards. Instead of a vocal answer, he got a grumbling sound coming from his stomach, then moving up toward his mouth. He burped and his skin started to change and become thicker, almost like carapace, and it was pitch black. Faragar stood up, looking even bigger now, and much, much scarier.

"Please sit down, Mr. Faragar," said the major.

"I need blood." Faragar's eyes turned into a shade of red. His teeth bared, craving for a bite.

"Mr. Faragar, if you do not sit, I will send you back to cryosleep."

Faragar growled.

"You will have your blood, I promise you. But not now. Sit, Mr. Faragar."

The brute finally obeyed, but his eyes were locked at the major like he was a piece of meat, extra crispy.

"You now see what the new strand of DNA is," said Major Ailig. "It gives you a protective layer over your skin. And believe me, you will need it."

Ailios, Luthis, and the chameleon injected their syringes, and after the grumble in their stomach and the burp, they had the carapace over their skin. Surprisingly though, only Faragar turned black. The rest of them kept their natural color... well, except for the chameleon whose natural color was a mystery to Ailios.

When Ailios touched the skin at the back of his hand he could definitely feel the change. It was a thick, rough layer, no doubt about it.

"After a careful analysis of each of your psychological profiles, we have decided that your team leader will be Mr. Ailios," said the major.

Luthis turned sharply, eyes stabbing like daggers, while Ailios stood up, confused. "Me?" he said.

"Please, Mr. Ailios, step over here." Ailios obeyed. He stood next to the major, feeling oddly like an exemplar in a museum. "This man has killed five hundred cybernetically enhanced humans..."

"...I've killed one thousand," said Faragar.

"In one day," added Major Ailig. There was a sudden fear in Luthis's eyes that turned into disbelief, and admiration in Faragar's. The girl seemed unimpressed. I will impress you very soon, babe.

"It will be a pleasure to have you as a leader," said Faragar, his fist touched his chest and he bowed in honor.

I didn't kill them, thought Ailios, but he just smiled.

"Mr. Ailios is an expert in breaking into ancient temples and stealing relics, and if need be he can kill."

But Ailios thought, I'm no killer. What happened there was an accident. Ailios did cause the accident, but he didn't mean to. All he wanted that day was to find some ancient piece of technology he could sell for coins.

"Mr. Ailios, do you have anything to add?"

"Umm, yeah, actually I do. This team leader thing it's just not my style, major. I usually work alone."

"Not today, Mr. Ailios."

"Tomorrow then."

The major ended the argument with a long stare.

"Okay, major, you win. But if I am to work with other people we need to establish some rules. Rule number one: I sleep alone. I don't want any of these creeps getting under me or over me in those military bunks of yours." Anyone except the girl. "Rule number two," Ailios turned to face Luthis. "You will all obey my orders, no matter how crazy they may seem. If not, I want to have your permission, major, to send the rule breaker to fly with the stars. You understand me so far, major?"

"Mr. Ailios, you have to understand that this is not an official military assignment. As a matter of fact this is a covert operation."

"Oh, I do understand, major, believe me I do. But we need to have order if are to succeed, don't you think?"

Major Ailig turned to the group. "For the sake of the future of our tribes, you will follow these rules."

Luthis clenched his jaw, but nodded as the rest did.

Ailios rubbed his hands. "Okay, now that we got that settled, where do we go next?"

"I was hoping you would tell us that, Mr. Ailios. You are the expert, are you not?"

"Yeah, the expert," mumbled Ailios and saw Luthis smiling with content. Just smile, you piece of genetic trash, I'll get you. Ailios then tried to remember the night when the accident in the temple happened. He entered the main chamber, the domed one with the writings over the walls. He saw a computer there, and it was active. He never saw an active computer inside an ancient temple before. He was intrigued, gold coins counting in his head. This is big, he thought, I can sell this for a treasure. But then he heard voices, approaching. He jumped behind the computer and hid there before the people came. They talked in a language unknown to Ailios. First he thought they were Cyons, but the language was different. Not that he spoke Cyon, (he did know couple of words, though) but he could tell when someone else spoke it, and this certainly was not it. But one word he did understand. It was a name, a place, another temple was located there, another temple he intended to visit sometime in the future.

"We're going on Timor," Ailios finally said.

"Timor?" mumbled the chameleon. "In Cyon borders? Gods, we are going to die..."

Faragar growled. "Cyons to kill. I like you, team leader." Ailios returned with a smile and a nod.

"Why Timor, Mr. Ailios?" asked the major.

"There's an ancient temple there, right? And we're looking for ancient temples, right? Well, why not Timor?"

"That temple you speak of has been leveled to the ground," said the major. "The imperial fleet bombed it when the riots took place on Palatine." Ailios didn't know about that, but it was the only lead he had. And even if he didn't find anything, at least he'll get to keep his head for few more days.

"So?" Ailios said. "The temples have chambers underground. They may be untouched by the bombings."

"Timor it is then," said the major. "And while you are there you might want to look into what happened with the archeological expedition we sent there not long ago. We lost contact with them as soon as the bombings started."

Ailios shrugged. "They are probably roasted," he said, "but I promise we'll look into it."

Major Ailig nodded. "One more thing," he said. "I would strongly advise against plotting your escape. We will track you down and put you back for execution." He smiled. For a moment it seemed as if he waited for the group to smile back – it didn't happen of course. "Olivia," he said and the girl stood up. "You are free to escort these men to your ship." Major Ailig turned to Ailios and said, "She will be your pilot for the duration of this mission." The girl turned even more beautiful now that Ailios knew she was a pilot. It made his lips turn into a smirk. Then the major leaned to his ear. "Be careful what you think in her presence – she's a telepath."

"Oh." Suddenly there was a knot tying in his stomach. He gulped. His smirk turned sour.

She walked elegantly toward him with a smile on her face. "I'm not impressed, Mr. Ailios," she said, and then she leaned to his ear. "And I know your little secret. Babe."
LUCIUS

The cabin was too small and too tidy for his taste. Even the porthole was so small that Lucius could see nothing but blackness on the other side; maybe few stars here and there, but that was all. On the bulkhead beside him rows of medals hung arranged by their size, starting from the smallest accomplishments to the largest. Lucius recognized the Golden Star shining above like a true star. It was the highest honor for the survivors of the Battle for Luna. The battle itself was a disaster, Lucius reckoned from his history lessons, but they did manage to destroy ninety percent of the Bion fleet and hold two centuries of dominance over them. Illusionary dominance. It was nothing but a word full of pride to his fellow humans; if any of them was spotted on Talam they were as good as dead, the Bion tribes made sure it stayed that way. But not once I take my throne back.

"Is everything in order, Your Highness?" Lucius heard Valeria's voice from behind.

He turned, thinking, I lost my throne, I lost my father and my friends, I lost my perfect body. I am left with a bunch of imbeciles to take my throne back, and you are asking me if everything is in order? Lucius tried to hold his anger back. It was useless emotion, he knew. It made his father reckless, and all he ever wanted was to be better than him, to learn from his mistakes. But now it seemed that anger was all he was left with.

"You and the captain share this cabin," Lucius said.

Valeria opened her mouth as if groping for words. "It is not how it seems..."

Lucius turned to look at the other bulkhead above the sleeping platform and wires. "It does not concern me," he said, "as long as it does not interfere with your duties." His eyes caught an image next to the Aquila's golden banner.

Valeria didn't notice where Lucius was staring. She said, "Arrius used most of his ship's space for storing weapons and ammunition. He said it was more efficient. There are others who share recharging units as well..."

She would never call the captain by his name if they weren't closer than what she claimed them to be. "You mean the captain," Lucius said, his eyes still on the image. There were three men on it, standing over a hilltop covered in Bion bodies.

"Yes, the captain. He–" She caught him stare at the image. She rushed and touched a button under it and the image flickered off. "I apologize for that, Your Highness. I did not mean to cause you any–"

"It's okay. You can turn it back on."

She hesitated, then pressed the button again. The image flickered on. Valeria stood beside it, her hands clasped in front of her. "It is ... mine," she said.

"Olybrius," Lucius whispered, his words barely leaving his lips, "Macrinus..."

"And you, Your Highness."

"And me." Lucius nodded.

"You were the sole inspiration to our men, to me. You were our idols."

"Were." Lucius felt the bitterness of that.

"I mean, because your companions died–"

"We don't know that," he said, although he was perfectly aware of how slim the chances were for them to have survived Timor. He still couldn't believe they were gone. Olybrius and Lucius grew up together, went to the academy together. That's when Macrinus joined them, the trueborn son of Admiral Septimus Julius Crus, a man that Emperor Titus trusted the most. Lucius had spent all his life with Olybrius and Macrinus. Two great friends. Now he was left alone.

Lucius's wheels drove him closer to the image, his arm extended over the platform and he touched the image. The tip of his fingers trailed his friends' contours as if to say his goodbyes.

Valeria opened her mouth to say something, but closed it as they both received Arrius's transmission – Attention all personnel! We are approaching Burnum. Prepare for deceleration.

I am on my way to the bridge – Lucius sent back.

For the duration of their slowing down, the emperor was sitting at the command seat, leaning back at an awkward angle and squirming all the time. And how could it not be at an awkward angle? His entire body was freakishly awkward and weak and obsolete. His priority was getting a pair of legs – that was indisputable – and then some weapons, and then a new hand instead of that antiquated claw he had. He winced at the thought that he wasn't the best Imperial solider anymore, but a loathsome rusty cripple. And Burnum was going to fix that. It was one of those gods' forsaken outposts, well hidden in the asteroid field that kept all sorts of machinery and cybernetic parts for its personnel. There has to be a pair of legs I can use. But Lucius didn't choose this outpost only because of its marginal location. This was the place where one of the best Imperial doctors was stationed. If someone could improve his body it would be Captain Dillius.

The emperor was looking straight forward through the massive screen as the outpost got larger and closer. "Keep a steady course," he said. He then looked down at Arrius who was standing on a lower step – no one could be standing higher than the emperor no matter if the emperor was sitting or not. "Have they answered our hails?"

"No, Your Highness. We haven't intercepted any outgoing communications from the outpost since we arrived."

Lucius fixed his eyes on Burnum, thinking. That is odd. Aquila had an Imperial IFF. The outpost would recognize the ship as one of their own. They had to respond one way or another.

"Your Highness," said Arrius. Lucius looked down on him again. "I do not want to trifle you, but I have to ask."

"I told you already, captain. This outpost will not be defended. If the rumors are true, than every ship the empire has will be heading for Palatine, there is no doubt about it."

Arrius looked down, not nearly convinced, and then looked up again. "But what if they left a single battleship, for just in case? We are not ready for battle. You know that, Your Highness."

"Trust me on this, captain. This outpost is known only to a small group of people. I doubt they will be expecting attack."

Arrius let go of it. "As you will, Your Highness."

"What is the status of our fleet?" asked Lucius.

"All ships are in position, Your Highness," said Valeria. She sat across from the emperor, tapping buttons on a computer screen and coordinating the fleet.

Good. "Commence the attack."

"Acknowledged. Commencing attack."

A group of five fighters passed by Aquila's screen and sped toward the outpost. Ten more dots in the distance were marked in green as well. Those were some of the merchant ships that were closing in on their target. They had no weapons on board, except for close range, but Lucius decided to sacrifice them. They were to get closer and draw Burnum's fire while the fighters and Aquila took out their defense systems. It was cruel but necessary.

Valeria turned. "Your Highness, we are detecting a battleship class vessel behind that large asteroid. Bearing: four-zero-three."

Lucius looked there. He couldn't spot the ship. All units – he sent to the fleet's captains – prepare to engage the battleship.

"Hold on," Valeria said, "our readings show the battleship is offline."

Belay that order – Lucius sent again – focus on the outpost.

But oddly, Burnum wasn't defending. First they didn't respond to his hails, now they didn't fight back. Something was wrong. "What are the readings on the outpost?"

"It seems Burnum is offline as well," Valeria said and then turned to Lucius with eyes full of confusion. She was undoubtedly asking herself the same question as Lucius did – What in gods' names was happening down there?

Lucius pushed himself up on his wheels. "Captain, prepare a boarding crew. Commander, you're coming with me."

"As you command, Your Highness," both of them said.

The boarding party was already assembled when Lucius and Valeria entered the hangar bay. They were strong men, as far as Lucius could tell, soldiers, just what he needed for this assignment. One of them carried an EMP cannon on his back, the rest were armed with the standard military issue pulse rifles. Lucius wanted to ask for a weapon, but then he never used one before. He fought with hands and feet alone. Now he wasn't even sure he could use a weapon with one hand and one claw. He gritted his teeth as he entered the shuttle. Valeria took a seat next to him.

"What do you think has happened, Your Highness?"

His focus was out through the porthole, watching Aquila's bay door open. "I don't know. Last time I was here the outpost was thriving. There were two hundred Imperials, working day and night to satisfy the Empire's needs for raw materials. Three battleships were assigned to defend Burnum even though no one outside the highest-ranking officers knew of its existence."

"When was that?" Valeria asked.

Lucius counted the years as the shuttle left the Aquila. "Twenty years ago," he said.

"It seems a lot has changed since then, Your Highness."

The emperor nodded grimly. He needed this outpost operational, not offline. Gods, I ask only for a pair of legs.

The outpost's bay door had to be blasted open by Aquila's cannons so the shuttle could land. Whoever left the base had made sure the bay door was sealed for some reason.

"Okay, soldiers," Lucius said once the boarding party was out. "Use your flashlights. If there's anyone alive out here it won't show on the thermal imaging. We need a sweep on the entire outpost. Your priority is to search for cybernetic parts – legs in particular. Your secondary objective is to look for anything that might answer why the outpost is dead. And keep your grav-boots on." Lucius didn't have them, but his wheels had some magnetic ability that kept him from floating.

"As you command." They bowed, and then scattered around the base. Lucius, Valeria, and two other soldiers, handpicked by Arrius as a personal guard to the emperor, headed for the bridge. If there was anyone alive in this gods' forsaken outpost, the bridge had to be the place.

Their footsteps clanked on the metal floor. But not the wheels, he thought, servomotors don't clank. The echo was louder than Lucius was used to. He took a deep breath. He had no cranial computer to compute air density, but he could feel its weight. "Do you notice something, commander?" he asked.

She walked next to him, her hand keeping the flashlight steady ahead. Circle of light showed empty corridor while Lucius waited for her answer. Valeria turned the flashlight up on the overhead and around the walls. "Except the fact that the outpost is abandoned?" she asked.

"The air," said Lucius. "It is stale and heavy, almost Bion-like."

Valeria sniffed, her metal nostrils widening. "Indeed it is," she said. "Do you think Bions are behind this?"

Lucius didn't think it was possible, but Imperials would never waste so much energy on producing oxygen. They could survive in less than what the Bions needed. Even if they were in areas without oxygen, their bodies were designed to put everything in hibernation and focus on keeping the brain alive.

"I think we will find out," Lucius said.

They climbed two decks above the hangar bay. Lucius cursed every time he saw stairs, cursed the power shutdown and the inoperative elevators. For the first set of stairs he gritted his teeth and fought his way up, holding the railway with one hand and slowly lifting one wheel after another. But at the second set of stairs he wasn't going to suffer anymore humiliation while Valeria watched him struggle. He commanded his guards to carry him over the stairs – it was the lesser embarrassment.

They reached the bridge without encountering anyone or anything.

Valeria unscrewed a command panel near the door and pressed a button hidden inside that caused the door to slide up. The doorway let out a burst of weak solar rays from the bridge's windows into the dark corridor. The need for flashlights instantly diminished, though the emperor's guards decided to keep them on.

As Lucius suspected, the bridge was abandoned as well. Two rows of computer screens and dashboards stood empty and covered with layers of dust. The round table in the middle of the bridge, where the usual status report was projected, was now dead and hollow.

It seemed as if every Imperial soldier that was stationed here just disappeared.

Lucius moved to the closest computer screen. He knew there was no electricity in the outpost but he pressed the power button on the keyboard, nonetheless. Except for a faint click, noting else happened. He turned to Valeria. "Can we get the power back on?" Lucius asked.

Valeria looked at the portable computer on her wrist. She tapped few buttons. "Negative. It appears that they have dismantled the power core before they left."

Lucius looked around. The two soldiers were sweeping the bridge, rifle and flashlight in hands. One of them even was checking under the seats.

"Can we get some power to the bridge?" Lucius asked.

"Depends on how much power you need, Your Highness."

"I need these computers online. I want to see the security footage."

"Maybe if we attach Aquila's power core to the outpost we can reroute enough so that the bridge would have all the power you need."

"Do it, commander," he said.

Valeria immediately contacted Arrius and started working on it while Lucius was moving around the bridge, trying to find some answers. What happened here, Dillius?

He stopped at the center of the wide panoramic window stretching on three sides of the bridge. One fighter flew close by. It was headed toward the Aquila.

Captain – Lucius sent – send another boarding party on the battleship. Maybe it would have the answers Lucius needed.

The emperor turned his back on the space view and drove himself to the command seat. He swiped his hand over the metal before he seated, leaving a crescent black trail. He took a seat and tried to assess the situation. There was no beam damage on the walls, no fluid on the floor. Maybe those savages boarded the station somehow. But what would they want from Burnum? It had nothing they might need. No, Lucius shook his head. Bions don't even know this outpost exists. It had to be someone else. But who? If there was no attack, maybe the Imperials thought it was one of their own...

The usurper! Lucius stood up from the seat, almost losing his balance on his freaking wheels. But what would the usurper need from this outpost? Lucius tried to remember what was so important here. He remembered Captain Dillius, the big cybernetic creature he was with two sets of arms and tools always hanging down his waist. Four arms usually meant someone was an engineer as it made their work easier. Lucius also remembered that he brought his friend Olybrius here to have his neck wires replaced after a battle with the Bions. Palatine doctors said that Dillius was the man for such delicate job, they didn't want to risk it – Palatine doctors didn't want to risk it!

What else? The outpost was assigned to watch for incoming threats from beyond the system and to extract raw materials from the nearby asteroids in the meantime. It was nothing particular of value.

Modius – sent Lucius – did you know Captain Dillius?

After a slight delay the answer came right into Lucius's head – Dillius, Your Highness? The engineer?

You know him?

Know him? Your Highness, that was the man that taught me how to fix people. He was an expert doctor, but he always considered himself an engineer rather than a doctor.

Do you know if he was involved in any illegal activities?

Mmm, not that I know of – was Modius's reply – although...

Yes?

Well, I know that he created prosthetics for some people.

There's nothing illegal about that – Lucius sent.

I know, but ... let's just say these prosthetics were way better than the original ones.

I see – Lucius clenched a fist, his eyes drifting to the window and his battleship – Prepare the infirmary, doctor. I intend to bring you a pair of legs in a few hours.

It will be my pleasure, Your Highness.

And it will be my pleasure to take off your head for what you did to me, Lucius thought, but he brushed away those thoughts. First things first. He needed to find out why the usurper needed Captain Dillius and his outpost.

"Commander," he said, "how long will it take?"

"Clodius is working on Aquila, Your Highness. It won't take long."

Lucius drove himself toward the security console and waited there pressing the power button over and over until finally it turned on. Lights started to illuminate the overhead. Every computer screen flickered as they came online with the image of the Imperial golden eagle.

Lucius drove his hand over the screen and then over the keyboard, to clean them as much as he could, and he started tapping buttons. Soon enough he found what he was looking for – the last recorded security footage. Valeria came closer as he started the video.

It was the command bridge from one of the upper cameras. Dillius was sitting in the command seat. "What is it?" he asked.

"Sir, we have an incoming Imperial vessel," a voice from one of the personnel answered.

"There is no landing scheduled for today," Dillius said. "Are you sure it's one of our own?"

"Affirmative, captain. IFF says it's an Imperial battleship."

"A battleship?" he stood up. "Hail them."

It took a minute for the reply, "They are not responding on any of our frequencies, sir. Not even to our cranial transmissions."

Dillius rubbed his chin, his eyes set on the holographic projection of Burnum and the approaching battleship marked in neutral yellow. "Maybe their communications are down..."

"But what about their cranial transmitters? They would certainly work."

There was a moment of pause.

"Our battleships are awaiting orders, sir. What will it be?"

"We are not going to fire on our people, ensign. We are already few as it is. They have permission to land."

The next camera was inside the hangar bay. Dillius and a small group of soldiers were standing at the ship's docking ramp. The airlock door was opened, but no one was coming out.

"Hello," Dillius called. "Anyone there?"

No one responded.

The soldiers exchanged nervous glances, their pulse rifles and flashlights trained at the door. After a couple of minutes of silence, Dillius ordered his men to move in.

Two soldiers went first, followed by two more. Six soldiers were left standing in line next to Dillius in the hangar bay. Suddenly there was a flash of light extending from the ramp. Two soldiers collapsed. The rest opened fire at the door.

One soldier came out running. He screamed, "Seal the hangar! Activate Pluto Protocol!" and the camera turned off.

What did you see? Lucius wondered.

The next footage was from the bridge again. "What happened?" someone asked.

A woman stood up from her seat. "Lieutenant," she said, "inform all Imperial vessels that we are under attack. They are clear to engage the battleship. All remaining soldiers on Burnum are to barricade the corridor outside the hangar bay. No one gets through. I will coordniate the defense myself." She started to leave.

"I – I can't send any transmission," the first voice called. "Something is blocking our communications!"

"What?" The woman stopped and turned toward the lieutenant.

"They're cutting down the power–" and the video feed ended.

Lucius could feel his teeth grinding, his lips pressed hard like a wrench. What in Jupiter's name happened here? Why would they want to activate Pluto Protocol?

And then a voice of one of the soldiers from the boarding party spoke in his head – Your Highness, we are inside engineering. I think you better see this.

Lucius didn't have to be told twice. "Stay here and protect her," he said to his guards. "I can handle myself."

"We have orders to protect–"

"It is I who gives the orders here, soldier. Remember that." And Lucius drove out the door. On his way down to engineering he contacted Arrius to see what happened on the battleship.

The ship has been abandoned, Your Highness.

Same as the outpost, thought Lucius. He sent – Can it be made operational?

Clodius thinks it can, but we would need to dismantle two merchant ships and use their parts.

Do it. I already have two ships in mind.

Half way down the outpost two soldiers met with him. "We are here to help you get down the stai–"

"I don't need any help," Lucius snarled and kept going. And he meant it – the stairs were way easier to drive on the way down.

"We are also here to protect you, Your Highness."

"From what?"

The soldiers didn't reply. They just followed him.

Gods, thought Lucius, I am Lucius Cornelius Venator! The best Imperial soldier that ever existed! Even I can protect myself in an abandoned outpost!

Once the door to engineering opened, another soldier greeted him.

"What is it?" asked Lucius.

"This way, Your Highness."

The soldier led the emperor behind a piece of machinery with large tubes and wires going to through the walls. Lucius ducked under a tube, his hand making sure it won't hit his head. Behind the machinery he felt his wheels slowing down. But it wasn't the floor. Something was playing tricks with his mind. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He blinked as if to drive away the image, but it was still there – hundreds of empty tanks sprouted in front of him like a forest of glass trees.

The solder next to Lucius moved aside, to show that there were more tanks.

"What is this?" Lucius asked.

"We think something was growing inside, Your Highness."

"Growing? Cyons don't grow in tanks."

The soldier nodded. "Indeed, Your Highness. There is more. This way," he said.

At the end of the row they turned right and stopped in front of a tank that caught Lucius off guard. The tank was way taller than Lucius ever was, maybe two meters in height, green liquid reaching to the top. He saw tubes and wires coming from the ceiling above him into the tank, attaching to something – something he recognized.

"Get Modius in here," he said. "Now."
AILIOS

"Friseal, we already talked about this," said Ailios without even looking at him. His eyes stared at Palatine as it grew larger with that thin atmosphere of hers, full of radiation. He then turned to Friseal. "Quit vexing us already. You heard what happens when someone vexes Faragar, didn't you?"

The chameleon had the color of the green broadleaf plants that hung inside the ship's bridge. He was afraid already. He then looked up into Faragar's thirsty eyes and turned even greener. "Umm, no, I don't want to vex Faragar. I mean, I don't want to vex anyone. It's just the right thing to do, Ailios, can't you see? Talam is doomed to fall anyway. Just look at that vast fleet in orbit. We have to make our move, now. We won't have a better chance, I assure you."

Ailios couldn't agree more. The ship's sensors picked up three hundred-odd military ships maneuvering in orbit. Major Ailig said the Cyons had four hundred of them.

"Where could we go, Friseal?" Ailios asked. "Talam is our home. We can't let these metallic creatures take it away from us. Besides, you heard the major – no escape plotting," he said trying to imitate his stern voice.

"Forget Talam," Friseal said. "Forget Cyons and humans and whatnot. I'm tired of this war, honestly. We can make it to the asteroid field. I know of certain people who have bases there and live quite fairly."

"You do realize we need oxygen to survive," said Ailios. "If something goes wrong in the asteroids we are as good as dead. So excuse me, my color-changing-fellow, if I don't share your enthusiasm. I intend to live few more hundreds on Talam and when my time comes, die there." Faragar growled his approval. Friseal opened his mouth to speak again, but Ailios interrupted him with a raised finger, "A! No more, Friseal. Or I'll feed you to Faragar." Friseal closed his mouth and swallowed. Ailios wasn't going to feed him to Faragar, not truly. But Friseal was becoming a nuisance and he had to shut him up somehow. Ailios then turned to Olivia. "You sure this will work?" he asked.

"You mean keeping Friseal quiet?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"No. Feel free to read my thoughts again. I mean this plan of yours. We're already too close for comfort."

"Nervous?" she asked, not moving the smile off her face.

"I just don't want to die yet, is all." Gods, I do feel nervous, and scared ... a little. I'm becoming like Friseal.

"You are becoming like him," she said. Ailios made a grimace. He hated when she read his thoughts. "Our contact gave us a Cyon IFF," she explained. "They'll think we're one of these scavenger ships." Those ships she spoke of were now visible through the window, collecting junk and debris around Timor, cleaning after the riots.

Ailios never saw Timor before. Well, not from up-close that is; He'd only seen few pictures here and there. But he read about it a lot. Apparently there were treasures to be found, but he doubted he would find any. Timor was way too famous in ancient texts to be left unchecked by other raiders, he was certain of it. But beyond that he hoped there was something left. Timor was, after all, a moon of the Cyon home world. Maybe there were no crazy humans risking their lives out there for a piece of gold. Talam had thousands of ancient temples worth checking out. If anything, Timor would be the last place to look.

Now Ailios had the chance to do that. He stared through the window as the moon grew steadily larger. The sun had enlightened half of its surface in bright colors of red and orange and even white in some areas. Meteor impacts had scarred the entire moon, but it was still smoother than Palatine's other moon Formido. From what Ailios could see there were only craters and rocks and abandoned Cyon outposts. He couldn't see the temple yet.

If he remembered the pictures correctly, this temple was supposed to be round. Also, he remembered the giant satellite dish in the center of the temple that was tilted to the side. It was said that the dish now revealed a massive entrance pit where it stood before. But Ailios still couldn't see anything of that just yet.

"You better suit up," Olivia said. "We are getting closer."

All of them except Olivia stood up. "Not you, Friseal," said Ailios. "They say chameleons are bad luck in sacred places."

Friseal's eyes bulged. "They do?"

No, but you're too damn annoying. "I think you should stay here with Olivia," Ailios said. Because if you come with me I might let Faragar eat you for real this time.

Olivia shook her head. "You're insane," she said. Friseal sat back, relieved.

Ailios kneeled and pulled a lever on the floor. A hatch toward the lower deck opened. He turned to Olivia. "Bring the ship in the middle of the temple. There's a giant satellite dish. You can't miss it."

And all three climbed down a ladder. Ailios thought of Major Ailig's words then, "You will have the best ship our fleet has to offer," he said. If this was it, Ailios was certain that Talam was doomed to fall. This was by far the smallest, most ridiculously looking ship he ever saw. There were two decks, one above his head where the bridge, the bathroom, and the bunks were, and the second deck where the armory, the locker room, and engines were located. And that was it. Everything was cramped to make the ship smaller. "It's not the size that counts," Major Ailig said when he saw how Ailios was looking at the ship back on Talam. "It's faster than any other ship in the UDF." Ailios thought then how hopeless their mission was with such ship. He still thought the same, but if it was indeed as fast as the major claimed, then maybe they had a chance of getting out of trouble in time. "Only people with low self-esteem are obsessed with the size of things," Ailios said to the major. Then he realized he was obsessed with the size of this thing – the yellow ship shaped like a robotic dolphin with two angle-adjustable engines on its tail – now standing clamped in front of him. From the outside he couldn't even tell which part of the ship was the bridge and which part was the infirmary. In the end it turned out there was no infirmary but a cabinet full of medical supplies. I better not get shot, he remembered thinking then.

Ailios mumbled the same words as he opened his locker and pulled down a blue Bio-suit and a white helmet with a large transparent visor.

He was the first to suit up, so while he waited for Faragar and Luthis to suit up, he played with his heads-up display for a moment, adjusting which information to be shown. Eventually he chose temperature inside his suit, remaining oxygen and pressurization, and distance to his teammates.

Faragar hit a fist into his palm. "I'm ready," he said.

Luthis struggled with his helmet for a while. "How do you put this thing on?" he asked, trying to force it down on the rings on his neck.

Faragar chortled and grabbed Luthis's helmet with one hand. "Stay still," he said. He put the helmet on Luthis's head and turned it until the locker rings clicked. "There."

"Oh, was that it?" asked Luthis.

Ailios opened another hatch on the floor and all three came down into a small airlock chamber. There they lay. Ailios fumbled with his gloves to take out a steel cable from a tiny box on his stomach and attach it to a belay device on the overhead. His teammates did the same. Now all they could do was to wait.

After a minute or so, his palms started getting wet, his stomach fluttered, and his foot nervously rapped the bulkhead – he was going to enter one of the oldest temples in the history of mankind. How many people could boast with that?

"Team, suit check," said Ailios, to pull his thoughts away from the temple, to calm down.

Both the brute and the mover confirmed that everything was in order. "Weapons check." Ailios's hand moved to his waist where he had his pistol. The touch of the metal brought weird kind of relief. He never used projectile weapons before, only his spear, but he was certain that a pistol would be more welcome this time.

"I don't need a bloody weapon," said Luthis. "I'm a mover. And I have my ball right here." He tapped his side pocket.

"You will need a pair of them if we encounter any sect members. But either way you are required to have a weapon. Well, do you?"

Luthis exhaled. "I do have one."

"Thank you," Ailios said. "See, it wasn't that hard–"

"We're here," said Olivia's voice in their helmets. "Standby for a drop."

After few seconds of decompression, another hatch opened behind them. Their way to Timor was open.

"Team, you ready?" asked Ailios. Luthis nodded and Faragar growled. "Okay, let's do this." And all three dropped down toward the surface, cables uncoiling as they go.

Ailios turned his head back to look at the temple. Gods, he thought, Cyons really hate the ancients. Round walls had collapsed in massive craters. The entrance pit next to the satellite dish was caved in while the dish itself was riddled with holes. Pieces of concrete and metal was strewed everywhere in the perimeter.

"How do we get in?" Luthis asked as they kept coming down.

Ailios turned his body sideways, the cable rubbing on his suit. His eyes moved around the temple, searching. "You see that pillar over there? The tall one with the inscriptions?" He pointed his finger down, behind the ruined temple.

"The metal frame in the middle?"

"No, that used to be a satellite dish," you idiot. "The one behind. Over there."

"Oh, that one. What about it?"

"Nothing, I just wondered if you see it."

Luthis scoffed. It brought a smile on Ailios's face.

"No, seriously, the pillar is the place we're looking for. The ancients had secret entrances all over the place, as the archeologists love to call them. They marked them with these pillars. However, I think they were not entrances, but exits."

"Exists?" echoed Luthis. "Why do you think they were exists?"

"Because you use them when things get ugly."

All three landed on soft, dusty ground. They quickly detached their cables and watched them pull back into the ship.

Okay, team leader – said Olivia in Ailios's head – From now on we'll be using telepathic communication. We don't want any Cyons intercepting our transmissions.

Okay – Ailios said in his head – How does it work?

Just think about me when you need me and I'll be down there in a heartbeat – she replied.

Oh, I'm thinking about you all right, thought Ailios, but he tried to keep that thought to himself; though, unsuccessfully.

Think about me when you truly need me – she said.

Ailios looked up and waved at his yellow dolphin as it took flight away from the moon.

The terrain turned uneven and rocky and full of debris as they started for the pillar. For once Ailios was thankful that Cyons didn't use projectile weapons like his own kind. He imagined walking around unexploded bombs – it would be dreadful.

But one step at a time, they reached their destination. The pillar was way taller now that they stood in front of it, its long shadow cast over them. Ailios made a rough estimate that the shadow stretched for at least a hundred meters. A tall son of a bitch.

"What now?" asked Luthis. "Do we pray?"

"Yes," Ailios said. "But the thing is, it only works if a mover prays, not me and not Faragar."

"You're not serious," said Luthis. "Are you?"

"Oh, I am. Every time I broke into temples this way, I had a mover with me to pray. He got rewarded nicely afterward."

"But you said you worked alone."

"After I get in. Not before."

Luthis hesitated. "I don't even know the words. I'm not religious."

"I'm sure they'll come back to you. It starts with: Mighty Gods of old ... But you need to sing it."

"Sing?"

"Mhm."

"You can't be serious."

"I am very serious."

Luthis hesitated some more.

"Look, you want your freedom back or not?"

Luthis cleared his throat. "Mighty Gods of old, who... who watch over us. Give us strength and power, and we shall... we shall rid this world of Cyons. Give us wisdom and knowledge and we shall rise again. Glory goes to you, oh mighty ones ... I can't remember the last part."

Ailios smiled. "I didn't know you could sing so badly," he said.

"Now what? I don't see anything happening?" said Luthis.

"Of course not. I need to open the door first." Ailios kneeled before the stone.

"What? You said it would open with a prayer!"

"I did. But I don't see the door opening." Sucker!

The pillar suddenly started shaking. Ailios stood up and pulled back few steps. His eyes were fixed on this massive thing quivering in front of him. He knew if it fell down he would have no way to outrun it. He only had to choose the right side to avoid the pillar crushing him like a bug. He looked around and then he noticed something. Luthis's arm was in the air. His angry face was clenched behind the visor of his helmet. He's trying to move the stone, Ailios realized.

"Faragar," he said. Faragar turned and slapped Luthis. It wasn't a hard slap. In fact, it was the slowest-moving slap Ailios had ever seen, but it dropped Luthis on the ground. The pillar stopped shaking.

Faragar crossed his arms. He said, "Behave."

Ailios then went to work. He kneeled and started digging through the sand and then digging some more until finally he reached a gray metal box the size of his two hands put closely together.

Faragar moved closer. "What is that?" he asked.

Ailios swiped his hand over the metal surface and pushed a tiny switch up. "This, my hard-slapping friend, is a keypad." Ailios opened the box. On the inside twelve squares lay silent. Ailios leaned closer to see the symbols over the squares better. But even with his eyes closed he knew which combination to press. He reminded himself to be careful, though.

His senses were now focused only on his fingers as he pushed the squares down. He was looking for a faint click, so in airless environment he had to make sure he felt it under the gloves.

"How do you know which squares to press?" asked Faragar.

"Some call it trial and error, Faragar, but I call it intuition." Once he pressed the final square a slight movement shook the ground beneath their feet. The dust started jumping up and down, vibrating, almost like a dust over a drumhead after a hard beat. Ailios stood up as the door in the ground opened, taking dust in like a waterfall in slow motion. "There," he said to Luthis who pushed himself on his feet. "Thanks for the prayer."

Luthis made a grimace, but he didn't dare say anything. Not with Faragar standing next to him.

The way inside was tight, and dark. Luckily, Ailios had cat's eyes, and it seemed Faragar had them as well. Only Luthis complained about the darkness.

"Your eyes will adapt," said Ailios, but he was certain that Luthis didn't believe him anymore, not after the prayer thing back there.

"Doesn't matter," said Luthis. "I have a flashlight." Two beams of light extended from his helmet. It made Ailios squint for a moment.

Ailios turned to see how Faragar behind them was doing. He was stooped, careful not to bump his head on the low ceiling.

"What are we looking for?" Faragar asked when he saw Ailios turn.

"Anything that might tell us where these non-humans are hiding."

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," said Luthis.

"Yeah," said Ailios, "and no one asked for your opinion." Ailios could feel how the mover was getting angry again, but he couldn't do anything about it.

Luthis was so damn frustrating – he was even worse than Friseal.

You're a team leader, the good guy in Ailios's head reminded him. You need to make sure they listen to you. "Okay, Luthis, maybe it's not the brightest plan ever, but it's the best I have. And be grateful for it because it'll keep your head on your shoulders for the time being. Unless something kills you down there." Which wouldn't be bad, but ...

After a while they were inside a room that seemed to be domed once. Now the closest word would be ruined. All three had to crawl out of pieces of walls with ancient symbols stenciled on them, and then walk sideways hard-pressed on the remaining walls, careful not to fall into dark pits. Eventually they came under a safe spot.

"Okay, search for anything that looks suspicious to you," said Ailios.

"I've never been into a bloody temple before," said Luthis. "Everything is damn suspicious to me." He kicked a fist-sized rock on the floor. It took a slow flight in the distance.

"Look for dead bodies," said Ailios, remembering the five hundred non-humans that infested the last temple. Maybe they would be of any use, if there were any. Besides, Major Ailig said they sent a team of archeologists. Maybe some of them are under this rubble.

"Do I look like a gravedigger to you?"

No. You look like an idiot, thought Ailios, but didn't say it. He needed his team to obey him, not trying to kill him. "Then do whatever you like," Ailios said. "Just don't stand there."

Luthis scoffed and then turned around to find some amusement of his own.

Ailios walked behind a half-smashed computer, and he kneeled just like he did the last time when he was hiding. He tried to copy his moves so that the trapdoor would open again. He crawled across to a large chunk of metal that had fallen and smashed another computer under its weight. He stopped there, but nothing seemed to happen. Maybe I should ask Luthis for another prayer. Ailios smiled on the thought, but he was frustrated at the same time that his lead ended here.

"Team leader," Faragar called. "Look what I found." He had a piece of cyon metal dangling from his huge hand. Whatever it was before was now unrecognizably deformed. "It must've been someone important. It has gold in it."

Gold. For a moment Ailios's eyes shone, he could feel them. He took the piece from Faragar's hand and studied it. "It looks like a hand," said Ailios. The thumb and the index fingers were missing, the other three were smashed but they definitely reminded Ailios of someone's hand. Someone important. "We're taking it with us." We can melt it and take the gold. The military isn't paying us anyway. Ailios stashed the hand in a bag he took out from his leg pocket and gave it to Faragar for safekeeping. He turned at the computer and when he made a step he felt the ground shake. There are no earthquakes here. And then he remembered the shaking of the pillar above – It was Luthis! Ailios rushed over a large piece of ceiling that had separated the room in half, and found Luthis on the other side lifting rocks by waving his hands down and up and sideways.

Luthis turned to him. "Now there's something suspicious, team leader," he said with a venomous note to his last words.

Under a piece of ruble lay a heavily deformed Cyon body. His legs were gone. The midsection was smashed. One arm was just wires, the other gone from the elbow down. The skull was badly damaged, blackened and dented. The lower mandible was gone. Remaining locks of silver hair covered one eye that was a dark hole with a wire hanging out. The other eye was a faint red shine of a ruby. Half his body was silver-coated. Gold, silver ... not bad.

"It seems alive," said Luthis.

Ailios rocked the skull and talked very slowly, "Hey. Can you hear me?" He knocked on it and then waved in front of the eye. The eye seemed to focus on his hand, but the mandible was gone, he couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Ailios then tried the few words in Cyon he knew. "I am Ailios. Gold. No weapons." The eye shone brighter for less than a second, as if he understood what Ailios's moving lips said, before it turned faint again.

Luthis kneeled next to Ailios. "His heart is smashed. See the blue thing over there? It's leaking. He's as good as dead. May I smash his head?"

"No. We're taking him with us."

"What?" said Luthis. He stood up. "Did you just say we're taking him with us?"

Ailios didn't reply. He called Faragar to help him.

"He's a bloody Cyon! I would gladly let him die here, slowly like he deserves."

"Good thing you're not in charge then." To Faragar, "Put him in the bag."

Faragar grabbed the Cyon's head and lifted him up. Wires that hung from below the abdomen scraped the floor. Faragar's large fingers enclosed the head like it was a tiny ball. Vicious smile stretched his lips while two sharp teeth glinted beyond the visor. For a moment, Ailios thought Faragar's hand would squash the ball.

Behind them Luthis kept arguing. "You're not serious, are you? Faragar, you'll be carrying a Cyon in that bag. You'll be carrying him. That's an insult to any human being."

"Whatever team leader says, I obey," Faragar said, and put the body in the bag. He flung it over his shoulder.

"That's ridiculous! If he says jump into space, would you do it?"

"I already did."

"But ... but it's a bloody Cyon we're talking about here!"

Faragar turned to face him. He leaned closer. "Do I smell fear, rat?"

"Don't be ridiculous, that thing is close to being dead."

"Then shut your mouth." Faragar turned to follow Ailios.

"Are you blind? Even if we take it with us there's no way we can fix it. We would need a Cyon doctor for the job, and I, for one, do not know of any Cyon doctors."

Ailios turned this time. "Unless you find a better clue, I suggest you do what Faragar said. What we have is still better than nothing." Now the trapdoor, he thought. I have to find the trapdoor.

Ailios got back behind the computers and kneeled again. His hand trailed the floor, moving the dust away, hoping to find a chiseled line. It should be right here somewhere.

Another chamber was below which connected with the secret exit he used to escape in the last temple. Ailios remembered that there was this huge wall with the screen and the ancient symbols when he accidentally touched the red square that spat the piece of glass, now hanging on his neck. His hand moved to touch it, but he couldn't reach through the visor. He forgot he was wearing the suit. It has to be something important, and most certainly valuable. But he never got to talk to a buyer, he was captured as soon as he left the temple, all smeared with ancient dust. Maybe there was another piece of glass under the floor.

"Luthis," he called, "I need you to move the floor. There is another chamber beneath us."

Luthis stepped closer. "You mean you don't want me to sing this time?"

"The prayer thing was a jest, Luthis, now help me get this thing opened."

"How do I know it's not a jest again?"

"You can't unless you try to open the trapdoor first."

Luthis crossed his arms. "In that case, I'll pass."

"Faragar," said Ailios, but Luthis extended his arm toward him.

"Not a step closer, Faragar," he said. "I'll send you on the wall if you try to punch me again."

"Actually, it was a slap," said Ailios.

Faragar growled, accepting the challenge. Ailios brought his hand up to stop him from going further–

And then Olivia's voice startled him in his head – Team leader, we're in trouble! Imperial ships are closing in on our position. They are asking for some code.

"What sort of code?" asked Ailios.

Luthis blinked a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not talking to you."

"Then who are you talking to?"

Would you shut up and listen! – Olivia screamed in his head. Ailios raised a finger to Luthis. I don't know what sort of code – she went on. My contact never said a thing about a code. Listen, you need to get back to the surface. I'm coming back to pick you up right now.

"Bloody soul-burning rivers," mumbled Ailios. "Imperial ships have caught on our little dolphin. We need to get out of here."

Luthis crossed his arms again. "I'm not buying that."

"Luthis, I'm serious! Get this thing opened!"

Ailios could tell that Luthis was considering it, but he wasn't sure if Ailios was serious this time or not. Olivia – Ailios thought, focusing his words toward her as if to push them in her head – Please talk to Luthis and make him open the door.

What? – she said.

Just tell him that, he'll know what it means.

After a second, Luthis looked at Ailios, confusion in those green eyes behind the visor, and then he turned at the floor and raised his hand. The floor started to shake and vibrate and probably even squeal, if they could hear it. The metal below their feet started to deform as Luthis tightened his face and gritted his teeth. His hand became a fist.

"C'mon, c'mon..." whispered Ailios. The metal started to crease and move up. Luthis turned his fist up and swiped aside. The metal crumpled and flew the same way his hand went and hit the wall with a blast of sand. And then there it was – a dark hole gaping from the floor. Ailios jumped in first. He caught himself on his feet. A sudden bright beam lit the chamber from above. Both the light and Faragar came down. Ailios let them go first through the next door while he approached the computer on the wall. He wanted to see if there was a piece of glass left inside. Ailios's fingers touched the spot. The slot where the glass came from in the other temple was empty here. Someone must've taken it already. At least we have the Cyon, Ailios thought to console himself. Maybe he knows what happened here and where to go next. And he broke into the fastest run his legs could give.

Right before he reached the exit Luthis's beams flashed into his eyes. Then they turned toward the walls in the dead end they found themselves in. This time Luthis couldn't open the door as he didn't know which wall to force out. He obviously didn't want to spend more of his energy for nothing. Ailios pushed him aside and moved a metal plate on the right wall. His fingers danced into another combination of squares and the ceiling started to open. Steps appeared from the darkness.

Olivia, we're out – thought Ailios as he made his final step out of the temple – where are you? He looked up, waiting for her response. Floating debris and scavenger ships towing chunks away from Timor was all he could see and not a sign of his robotic yellow dolphin. In the background, Palatine stood ominous. Lightning flashed across the orange-grayish globe. Blinking red dots hovered in orbit. Millions of Cyons preparing to slaughter my people, Ailios thought in sudden anger.

"Gods," he heard Luthis mutter. "We are going to lose, aren't we?"

Faragar slapped his fist on his chest, bared his teeth. "Let them come."

Ailios for once agreed with Luthis. The odds were definitely not in their favor. Maybe if they could get out of here, make the injured Cyon talk; if they can use the sect's reproduction secrets against the Cyons...

Olivia where are you? – Ailios thought again. And then he noticed one dot moving away from five others. Lights extended from the five toward the running one. Beam weapons. The realization made his stomach churn. He knew that the running dot was his ship.

Imperial ships are attacking us, team leader – came the response – we can't get to you. I will draw them away from Timor and come back for you. I ... I am sorry.

Ailios stared at the dot. It was faint, getting fainter, and then disappeared.

"Where's our ship?" asked Luthis. "Why isn't she coming?"

Ailios looked at him. He felt the grimness of the words when he uttered them. "It's gone."
LUCIUS

The emperor stared through the glass wall, his eyes focused on a monitor that sat on a rusty table. Its black display had a white, jagged line stretching from one end to another, its pattern the same – small peak up, small peak down, straight line. Repeat. The peaks coincided with the sound of a weak heartbeat pulsing from a set of speakers above the monitor.

Lucius had seen hundreds of Bion hearts in his lifetime, all beating strong even after he pulled them out from a savage. But this one was slow, too weak for anyone to live with it. Yet there it was – a live patient on the operating table. Now its life rested completely in Doctor Modius's hands.

"Increase oxygen levels," said the doctor without lifting as much as an eyebrow from the table. His hands moved over the body with swift and precise motions of a man who knew what he was doing.

Clodius turned a knob on a machine next to the heart rate monitor. "Oxygen levels increased," he said. He rejoined Modius whose metal hands gleamed under the operating lights.

"Hold here," said Modius. One metal hand grabbed a wire sprouting from the abdomen. "And here." Another hand moved over Modius's and held where Clodius was told. "Gently. Be careful with the tissue." Lucius heard a clap and the patient twitched. "Watch it!" said Modius. "I said gently."

"Is he going to live?" Valeria took a step closer to the glass wall. Her palm touched its smooth surface.

Lucius didn't care if it was going to live or not, he was concerned by what it was. Something similar had already tried to kill him on Timor. It was their fault he was a rusty cripple instead of the golden emperor he was meant to be. For a moment Lucius looked at the creature and wondered. How could anyone do such thing? It was covered in skin, and not the synthetic one that humans used to cover their metal frame underneath, but a true organic skin, just like those Bion savages had. It can't be Dillius, he thought, the man never worked with Bion DNA before. But this thing had cybernetic skeleton made out of titanium where that loathsome skin had covered most of the bones. Maybe Dillius had something to do with that.

The creature's legs weren't developed properly, Lucius realized as Modius moved aside to take a scalpel from a steel table. The legs had titanium bones, but the skin never reached below the thigh. Maybe that's why they left it here on Burnum – to die.

Lucius recalled his history lessons about the ancients trying to combine both cybernetics and organics, to improve their kind, but they never actually succeeded. It was one of their major failures. Eventually they chose cybernetics as they were far superior to their organic counterpart. Apparently someone did succeed in combining the two.

"It's not he, but it," said Arrius, standing tall above the emperor. "And I say we kill it. I don't want this thing lurking around."

Valeria's eyebrows on her reflection turned down, her hand still on the glass. "But he's just a boy," she said. "He's dying, captain, he's hardly any treat to us."

In front of the emperor's eyes came the boy from his dream, Oliver, and he remembered that he was a boy himself. He didn't have metal bones like the one on the table, but his skin was much the same. Did I look so frail in my dream as well?

"Abomination is what it is," Arrius declared. "Not a boy. And we would do well if we leave it to die."

Clodius's feet clanked on the floor as he circled around the table. He held wires and tools, and helped Modius keep the thing alive. Nasty sound, thought Lucius. But it was still better than wheels; which reminded him...

Squad leader – sent Lucius – did you find any legs?

We have just finished searching the battleship, Your Highness. They striped clean both the ship and the outpost. There are no prosthetics. I am sorry, Your Highness.

Lucius clenched his fist. I need legs.

"Do you think the Bions did this?" Valeria asked.

"I would bet my life on it," answered the captain.

"Then I would have to take it," said Lucius. He uncurled his fingers and turned to meet Arrius's eyes, glowing bright blue.

Arrius lowered his head, metal circles on his skull glinting faintly. "If it please you, Your Highness."

"It does not please me, captain. You are a good man, and you should know that this cannot be a Bion doing. They consider cybernetic enhancements as blasphemy." Lucius remembered the story that Olybrius once told him. Bions were pure, not defiled by technological implants, as Olybrius had put it. "Loathing is what they feel for cybernetics," said the emperor. "They hate us as much as we hate them, maybe even more. And that is not all. How do you think a savage could manipulate technology such as ours? They do not know our language, they cannot understand our computers. It simply cannot be the Bions that attacked Burnum."

Arrius sniffed. "But the air," he said.

"It does not prove anything," said Lucius. He nodded toward the creature behind the glass wall. "This thing needs more oxygen than we do."

Valeria lowered her hand. She turned. "What if they had help from the inside?"

Lucius considered the possibility. "Do you think there is a single human who would help those savages, commander? Let me remind you that they destroyed our planet. The thriving beauty of nature it once was has been turned into a radioactive wasteland. The beautiful blue skies are nothing more than dark clouds filled with ashes of destruction. If you know of any human who would help the savages after what they did to us I would gladly execute him myself."

"We did the same to their planet," Valeria said. "Have you seen what it looks like now, Your Highness?"

"I have, commander. It is not worse than how it was before," he said, although, he did not know how it was before. He wasn't even born when the war started. His father had told him tales about the vile creatures that attacked Palatine and destroyed their cities. It was then that the Empire decided to strike back and bomb the Bion home world. But Lucius knew even then that his father had told him only what his father had told him before. And his father before that ... The war has been waging for millennia, way before the first Venator became emperor. Olybrius said the war started even before the empire existed. But history was the least of Lucius's worries. He now hated the Bions as every Imperial did. And he would gladly destroy their home world again, if need be.

"You are mistaken, Your Highness. Talam is worse than before," said Valeria. "They also had blue skies and lush green landscapes and cities towering to the stars. Now they have acid rains and dark clouds, and deserted cities overgrown with mutated plants. They rarely see the sun from the surface of their planet."

"Nothing less than what they deserve, I am sure," said Lucius. This was the first time he heard any Imperial defend the Bions. It was unimaginable. "What are you trying to say, commander? Are you implying that there are some of us who feel sorry for those wretched savages?"

"I am not implying anything, Your Highness, I was just considering the possibility. But I know for a fact that some of our people are tired of this war."

"Some of our people?" echoed Lucius with a raised eyebrow. "Who do you refer to, commander?"

"I refer to the ordinary people, Your Highness. We have our own problems as it is. Your father saw it. He ended the war, even briefly, so we can focus on what was important – our reproduction and survival in the long run. We are dying, Your Highness. We need peace. Maybe if can work together with the Bion tribes and use their resources we might find a solution to our problem."

"Work together?" joined Arrius with clear disgust in his voice. "Do you hear yourself, commander?"

Lucius never thought about it that way. Those Bions were nothing more than savages that deserved to die for what they did to Palatine. Lucius Cornelius Venator was supposed to be the emperor that would end the war and rid the system of all Bions. After that, he would've focused on his people's problems.

"We cannot coexist, commander," said Lucius. "There is too much bad blood between us. I do not think that our people could forgive the Bions for what they did to us. And I am sure they cannot forgive us either."

"Maybe it is time we tried, Your Highness. War brings death, and death reduces our numbers..."

"So does theirs."

"Indeed. But, Your Highness, they have DNA databanks. If anyone dies, they can bring them back the way they were before their death. We cannot do the same unless the brain is preserved–"

"I know that, commander, what is your point?"

"My point is: if the usurper launches an all-out assault on Talam, our empire is doomed to die. We will never be able to regrow our numbers."

The empire was doomed to die since my father took the throne. He should've finished the Bions with total destruction, not peace, Lucius thought. He said, "We will prevail, one way or another."

"At what cost, I wonder?"

"Tell me commander," said Lucius, "where is this knowledge of what the ordinary people think comes from? You are highborn."

"I..." she started, and then stopped when it became obvious that Arrius was uncomfortable with this talk. He shifted from one leg to another, eyes moved from the floor to the creature beyond the glass. I was adopted – Valeria transmitted to her emperor. I lived seventy years with ordinary people before Admiral Valerian took me in his house and gave me my new body. She moved her hand over her hair of thick blue wires. I am still in contact with many of those people, Your Highness. I served with more than half of them in the Imperial fleet. I know what they think of this war.

Lucius nodded. He heard enough, and he didn't care about Valeria's personal history as much as he cared about the creature on the other side and its reason for existence. The emperor drove closer to the glass and pressed a button where the glass wall met the metal wall. His voice boomed on the other side. "Doctor, what is your recommendation about this thing?"

The doctor stopped working for a moment and turned to see the emperor. His voice was muted somewhat because of the glass. "This boy's biology is unlike anything I have seen, Your Highness, it–"

"Spare me the details, doctor. What do you suggest we do? Do we dissect it? Do we kill it?"

"Kill it? No, Your Highness, I would strongly recommend against that."

"Then say it, doctor. We are running out of time."

"Time? Oh, yes. I would recommend that you leave me here on Burnum, to further study the technology behind the boy's creation. I want to learn how they made it and why they failed with it. Maybe we can learn something we can use on ourselves."

Lucius made a grimace. "I believe you do not mean the organic parts?"

"Oh, no, no, no, Your Highness, not the organic parts. It is the cybernetics that I am interested in, and their connection with his brain."

Lucius nodded. "Very well then." He pulled his finger from the button. "I'm taking Aquila for a quick run. Commander Valeria, you are in command of my fleet in my absence. I will also leave the majority of my soldiers here to assist you if the outpost needs defending." He turned to go, saying, "And make sure the doctor doesn't create any more of these creatures before I come back."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Arrius was walking back to Aquila with the emperor, a group of ten soldiers escorting them and lighting their way with flashlights. Only their boots echoed against the walls, something that made Lucius envious every time he heard it.

"How is the work on the new battleship going?" the emperor asked, taking his thoughts away from the wheels under his knees.

"The crews of Silent Wind and Bright Star have dismantled their ships, as you ordered, Your Highness. With Clodius's help they have managed to reactivate eighty percent of the battleship's systems. But they need Clodius to finish the work."

"Clodius is needed at the operating table. They can have him back after his service is no longer required here."

There was a moment of silence and then Arrius asked, "Why Silent Wind, Your Highness? You might have noticed that Captain Frang is a dubious man."

Lucius gazed at the moving spotlights ahead, a sign of the hangar bay marked their approach to their destination. "It is you who gathered all those ships, captain. You were supposed to make sure there were no dubious people in my fleet, were you not?"

"Captain Lartius recommended the man."

"Lartius isn't a trustworthy example."

"That may be true, but Lartius would do anything for a good coin. He hopes for high honors once you take the throne." They entered the hangar bay. Two shuttles awaited their arrival. "One of my captains told me that Lartius was a loyalist. Coin maters to him, but so do you, Your Highness."

Lucius doubted that. "I do not trust Lartius and I do not trust Frang. That is why I chose Captain Galerius of the Bright Star to command the new battleship. He is a war veteran from the Battle for Luna. Half his crew is retired military and hardened soldiers. They will keep their eyes on Captain Frang and his men."

"Captain Galerius is an excellent choice, Your Highness, but the battleship is important to us. Maybe you should reconsider–"

Lucius stopped, halting the entire group. His eyes pierced the captain. You would do well if you did not question my orders in front of my men, captain – Lucius sent to him – I would gladly welcome your council and recommendations. But in private.

Arrius lowered his head. "I apologize, Your Highness. It will never happen again."

They finished their walk in silence.

Lucius took the command seat once they reached Aquila's bridge and waited for his soldiers and equipment to be transferred to Burnum before he departed. This time, though, the emperor called Captain Lartius to join him in the bridge as his personal advisor. That way Lartius would be of little concern while Lucius was raiding a new target.

The huge robotic man lumbered closer to the emperor and waited for him to explain why he was called.

"Captain Lartius," said Lucius, "I have come to understand that you have experience with raiding merchant ships."

Lartius was taken aback. "Raiding? Where did His Highness hear such lie?" His crude robotic voice chafed Lucius's ears. Lucius didn't hear it anywhere. He was convinced that this man was a pirate, and he rarely misjudged other people when it came to their fleet designation.

"That is irrelevant, captain. Answer my question."

The man bowed politely. "I apologize, Your Highness. I am familiar with certain tactics, it is true."

"How do you find your targets and how do you raid them?"

Lartius looked at the captain and then back at the emperor, and smiled, golden tooth glittering in his mouth. "I have access, Your Highness."

"Access to what? Speak."

"To the Imperial mercantile grid, Your Highness."

The emperor fixed his eyes at Arrius – How did we not know of this? – Lucius sent.

It cannot be true, Your Highness – was the reply – He is lying.

"Are you talking about the same grid that the Imperial admirals have access to?" asked Lucius.

The man nodded. "I know of every Imperial merchant ship in the system, its trajectory and cargo, with a small margin of error, of course."

Lucius looked at Arrius and saw the surprise in his eyes. "That's not possible, Your Highness–"

Lucius cut him off with a wave of his hand. Those scavenging pieces of rusty metal had entire spying network on our grid and no one ever bothered to figure out how some freaking pirate could raid a merchant ship in open space and know its exact location at the right time. He brought his gaze at Lartius. "Give me the closest ship that carries military technology."

Lartius's smile turned evil. "Gladly, Your Highness." He closed his eyes for a moment, accessing his cranial computer. "Lightning Bolt," he said. He opened his dark red eyes. "Three million klicks, bearing: six-three-three."

"Can you confirm its cargo?" asked Lucius.

Lartius nodded. "Weapons," he said. "Lots of weapons."

"Prosthetics is what I need more than weapons. Do they have any?"

Lartius nodded again. "Military-grade," he said.

Finally something good to hear. Lucius turned his gaze to the stars beyond the screen. "Captain, set an intercept course for the Lightning Bolt. I believe there is a pair of legs waiting for me on that ship."
AILIOS

Luthis was pacing back and forth in the tight corridor under the surface of Timor, his helmet's lights beamed from wall to wall. It was almost annoying. "I can't believe she left us here to die," he said.

Ailios exhaled. He heard this for the fifth time, maybe. "I told you she didn't leave us," he said. He was sitting on the floor. His full attention was down at the tip of his finger which played with a gray pebble, rolling it from side to side. "She said she'll come back."

"Yeah," said Luthis, "the last girl that said that to me was found dead couple of days later, killed by damn Cyons."

"Olivia is a tough one. If she said she'll come back, she'll come back." Even Ailios started to doubt that. Olivia was gone for more than an hour. Something was definitely wrong. But Ailios was a team leader. He had to keep their spirits high.

Luthis stopped moving and leaned back against the wall, right across from Ailios. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Just relax, she'll be here."

Luthis scoffed. "She better be." He slid his hand into his leg pocket, groped a little, and took out his metal ball. He then let it hover above his blue glove. At the same time Faragar came down the stairs from the surface.

"Give the man a break," he said to Luthis.

"Any sign of her?" Ailios asked. Faragar shook his head. Ailios shrugged inside his suit. "Then a prayer might not be a bad idea this time."

Luthis cocked his head to the side and made a grimace. "Ha-ha. You are a funny guy, Ailios, aren't you?"

"Some say I am. But a prayer might honestly help us this time. We are in an ancient temple, are we not?"

The ball dropped into the mover's hand. It seemed to get smaller as he squeezed. "You are not a funny guy," he said with voice as cold as his eyes that stared behind the visor. Ailios knew that look. He'd seen it before the mission.

"Faragar would disagree, wouldn't you, Faragar?"

"You are a funny guy," said Faragar.

"Thank you, Faragar. See? Some say I am funny."

Luthis didn't say anything for a moment. His cold stare seemed to melt away from that smoldering face of his. It slowly turned his eyes ablaze. So did the ball in his grip.

"Seriously, Luthis, you need to relax."

"Relax?"

"And smile more often. Who knows, you might even get a decent girl to like you one day." If she's blind.

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm just saying." Ailios turned to Faragar. "He should smile more often, wouldn't you agree–?"

Luthis hurled the ball. Ailios's peripheral vision caught a fist-sized metal getting larger and larger until it became as large and ominous as Palatine on the outside. Ailios moved his head aside just in time to avoid getting his visor smashed. A burst of metal and concrete showered the back of his helmet as the ball exploded into the wall behind him.

The bloody mover had now crossed the line. Ailios sprang to his feet, his hands curled into fists. "You son of a–" he muttered as he closed the distance.

"Wait!" said Luthis. "Look!" His finger pointed behind Ailios. Ailios didn't bother to turn. He was determined to beat the mover genes out of this back-stabbing criminal. "Ailios, I'm serious – behind you!"

Ailios jumped at him and pushed him behind. The back of his helmet thumped on the metal wall, and it thumped again, and again. Ailios even did a headbutt, momentarily forgetting that both men had helmets. For a moment Ailios's vision blackened. Luthis used that split second to push his attacker away. Before Ailios knew what happened, he was levitating over the floor, his feet groping for hard ground.

Luthis had his right hand up, holding his team leader suspended while with his left he rubbed the back of his helmet. "No, you're not a funny guy, Ailios – you're an egoistic self-satisfied bastard, is what you are."

"I'll show you who's the bastard, you genetic piece of trash!"

"So you don't deny that you're an egoistic self-satisfied–"

"This is the last time you try to kill me!"

"I wanted to scare you, fool! Don't you think I could've smashed your brain inside your skull if I wanted to?"

"You wanted to drop that pillar on me!"

"I wanted to push it back and open that damn door before you did! That prayer thing pissed me off!"

"Get me down and fight like a man!" shouted Ailios, his hands and feet waving.

Luthis shook his head. "I can hold you like this as long as I want."

"Bullshit!"

"Well, until we run out of air, anyway. Now, take a deep breath and calm down."

Ailios wanted to smash that ugly head of his on the wall, but somehow he felt his composure getting back. He then heard Faragar chortle. He was having fun, it seemed.

"There!" Luthis pointed his finger behind Ailios. With his right hand he started to turn him to see.

Ailios's eyes opened wide. His breath caught in his throat. "Ifrin's rivers burn me alive..."

"See!" said Luthis as he brought Ailios down.

Ailios didn't bother to turn back, to say a word or two about the things he saw. He just walked forward, hypnotized. He dropped on his knees once he was close enough. His fingers trailed the edges on the wall that was now cracked open, a hole large enough to get his head through. His hands caught the fringes almost by themselves and they pulled, taking chunks with them. "Faragar, help me with this." Ailios felt the huge hand of Faragar push him aside, and then he watched Faragar hurl his fist at the wall. The wall crumbled down in a quick cascade, raising clouds of dust. As the clouds slowly settled down, a black hole gaped at them.

"No bloody way," Ailios mumbled. He looked back. Luthis stood akimbo.

"How about that, team leader?" he said and gave a hand to Ailios. He brought him back up, the old-fashioned way. "Maybe we will find something after all, so we can get rid of the damned Cyon inside the bag."

Faragar pulled the bag up and flung it over his shoulder. "Not unless team leader gives the order," he said.

Luthis scoffed. "Whatever."

All three were now inside the new corridor, stepping cautiously over a metal floor.

Ailios may have been the only man who had sneaked in so many temples. He knew their secrets better than the priests on Talam did. He knew every entrance and exit there was to know, every chamber worth checking out. He knew the underground passageways like the lines of his palm. But he never imagined that there might be hidden corridors sealed off within the walls. He never thought about it. And now it brought a whole new perspective for him. Gods, how many treasures have I missed? But that was irrelevant now. They had to find a clue, or this mission would end sooner than he had hoped.

Luthis turned his head from side to side, moving the lights on his helmet with it. They helped Ailios catch a glimpse of stenciled symbols faded by age, none of which he could recognize.

"What do you think we might find here?" Luthis asked.

Relics, I hope, Ailios thought. He said, "Another clue would be nice."

"Do you think we'll find hidden treasures?"

"Maybe," said Ailios. "But if you think about gold then you'll be unpleasantly surprised."

Luthis turned his beaming lights toward Ailios. Ailios squinted. "Why's that?" asked the mover.

Ailios raised his hand toward the lights. "Because the ancients kept technology and weapons in their temples, not gold." He looked away. "Their valuables were hidden in underground vaults on Talam. Far away from here."

Luthis turned his head back at the walls and then ahead. "Then why didn't you choose a vault on Talam instead of this damned place?"

Why indeed? thought Ailios, but even a piece of technology to the right man was worth a fortune. Ailios knew that better than others.

The corridor was starting to lighten up as they neared the end. A muffled green light like a divine aura radiated from a small circle in the middle of a wall some twenty meters ahead. Can it be gods dwelling here? Ailios shook that foolish thought.

"Keep your voices down," Ailios said.

"Why? There's no one here," said Luthis.

Ailios grabbed him by his shoulder and turned him, his finger stabbed straight ahead. "Are you blind? Don't you see the light over there?"

"So?"

"Just to remind you we came here through a bloody wall. Now if there is a light source emanating from there, then maybe we are not alone. And if we are not alone, then whoever is down here doesn't want to be found." Gods, he's an imbecile.

Luthis shrugged. Thankfully though, he kept his voice down.

Once they reached the light source, Ailios realized the green light was coming from a tiny window on a metal door. All three looked around but found no buttons or anything they might use to make it open. Ailios then moved aside and showed the door to Luthis. "If you please," he said.

"What, you want me to pray again?"

"I hope there will be no need. My ears still hurt."

Luthis gave him a long cold stare.

"Just open the damned door."

The mover scoffed and raised his hand. Not a second later the metal door started sliding up. A whoosh of air pushed them few steps back and nearly dropped them.

This thing has a bloody atmosphere! Ailios struggled to keep his balance leaning forward.

The door seemed to be stuck halfway or Luthis couldn't push it higher than it was, so both Ailios and Faragar crawled inside. Faragar held the door for the mover to get in and then he let it drop back.

"Gods," gasped Luthis, tapping some dust off his suit. He looked ahead and froze. His mouth opened and then closed. His hand pointed behind Ailios. "What in the name of Segomo is that?"

Ailios turned. Thousands of rows of tanks filled with green liquid and human bodies, stood side by side. Tubes and wires came down into the tanks. One of them ended in the mouth of the submerged, another in the nose, and tens of others throughout the head and body.

"I think we found the answer to their reproduction," said Ailios. Too bad, he thought. I was hoping it involved women.

Faragar grabbed his helmet and turned to the side until the locker rings clicked.

"Don't–" Ailios said, but then Faragar took off his helmet and took a deep breath. Luthis removed his helmet next, and when Ailios saw that they didn't asphyxiate, he did the same. It turned out the air was good, but it left a funny taste in the back of his throat.

Faragar dropped his helmet and walked to the closest tank. His hand touched the glass.

"It's ... human," he said.

And a damn big one, thought Ailios. He went closer to the tank and stared at the man inside. "Not exactly human," he said. "Look." His finger pointed at the feet inside the tank. The man inside had an almost transparent skin, covering human organs and a metal skeleton. Faragar growled at the sight of it. Ailios then noticed how the skin was slowly turning opaque.

"So the major was right," said Luthis. "They do reproduce quickly."

"If they needed twenty-four hours to fully grow, then this one here is twenty-two hours old, I'd say," said Ailios.

"Unbelievable," mumbled Luthis.

The three of them started walking between tanks and stared in amazement at the people inside. Some of them twitched, Ailios noticed, others moved their eyes under their lids, almost as if they were dreaming.

The further they went, the younger the people became. At the end they halted.

Luthis touched the tank. "Is this...?"

"...a baby," Faragar said. "I've never seen one before."

"None of us has," said Ailios. The baby was a tiny thing. Its entire skin was transparent. They could clearly see its little organs forming and its metal bones lengthening. An abomination it was, but a cute little abomination.

"In twenty-four hours it will be a fully grown man," said Luthis.

"Gods..." Ailios gasped. He remembered the abominations that attack him back on Talam the moment they laid their eyes on him. There was no doubt they were dangerous. "We should warn the major. If these things hide under our temples on Talam..." he left the thought unfinished. Instead he tried to talk to Olivia – Olivia, if you can hear my thoughts listen carefully. I need you to warn Major Ailig. Tell him there is a hidden reproduction facility under the temple on Timor. Tell him to do a full sweep on all other temples on Talam, even the one they accused me of destroying. Tell him – tell him to warn all tribes. If these abominations are unleashed on us, we'll stand no chance...

The reply never came. Ailios didn't know if Olivia got the message or not, but it was all he could do.

Luthis did a full circle in place, his eyes never leaving the tanks around him. "Do you notice something?" He didn't wait for an answer. "They are all male," he said.

And not just that. Ailios remembered his previous encounter with them – they were as tall as Ailios was, but these creatures inside the tanks were way taller than him, almost as tall as Faragar. It gave him the chills. And if they were all male and tall and strong...

"Soldiers," the word escaped his mouth. "We have to destroy this temple."

Faragar struck his fist into his palm and growled in agreement.

"I can move them," said Luthis.

"They are too many," Ailios said. "How many days would you need to move them all?"

Luthis shrugged. "We have to start somewhere."

"There has to be a computer," said Ailios more to himself than to his team. A red button, he thought. I only need a red button. It worked the last time.

"A computer," Luthis repeated. "Ancient computer that we don't even understand its language. What good would it do–?"

Ailios heard a growl and a crash. He turned as a tank shattered on the floor, green liquid pouring out. The little abomination twitched helplessly as it died. Faragar growled and pushed another tank. And then another. This one fell backward and took more tanks with it like dominoes. Luthis put almost an evil grin on his face and raised his hands. Two tanks detached noisily from their base on the floor, sparks and wires flung out as they moved up to the ceiling. The tubes turned the baby violently inside, green liquid spilled out. And then with all his might Luthis brought his hands down. Two tanks followed in a loud crash. Glass shattered, liquid splattered, and Luthis only grinned.

I have to find a computer, thought Ailios and left both Faragar and Luthis enjoy their work. Ailios decided if there was a computer it had to be somewhere along the walls, so he started from there.

One side passed, no computers.

Second side. He passed that one as quickly as the first but didn't find any computers or whatsoever.

Third side. Now that was interesting. Ailios stopped. There was no computer but another door with a tiny round window in the middle. He made a careful step forward and then the door slid up. With his thief's quickness he jumped aside and hid behind a tank. He observed through the liquid. Five humans wearing black uniforms emerged. They held weapons similar in design to what humans on Talam had. Ailios winced when he heard another crash somewhere amidst the rows behind him. He closed his eyes. I have to warn them, he thought. But how? There was a growl and another crash. Ailios took out his pistol and aimed at the group that now entered the rows. Gunshot will warn them. It has to. He squeezed the trigger. A single bullet hit one of the strange people, and he fell down. And then everything turned to chaos. Burst of bullets smashed the tank next to Ailios, spraying him in green. More bullets whistled. Ailios couldn't tell if his team stopped crashing tanks or not. His only thought was getting away from the mess he made.

A glass shattered next to his face and shards scraped his skin. Ailios screamed as he fell to his knees, clenching his eyes shut in terrible pain. His hand let go of the pistol to hold his burning face. Then he heard the tank he used to hide shatter some more. The body inside stopped the bullets with thuds. Shouts echoed in a language he could not understand, a commands given to take away his life, no doubt. He forced himself to open his eyes even though it was too damn painful. A bloody tear watered his cheek but he decided to worry about that later.

His silent feet carried him away from the bullets, his body hasting among exploding tanks that splashed their green liquid all over the place. And then Ailios found himself frozen in place. One of those uniformed men was blocking his way. It had a rifle trained at Ailios. And for a moment Ailios saw death in its eyes – they were dark eyes and empty as if all humanity had been stripped out of them. They were almost Cyon, but not quite.

In an instant the man went up, catapulted by an invisible force, and smashed the ceiling with grotesque splatter of organs and blood and metal bones. What remained of him rained down and clattered on the floor. Ailios peered through red droplets, trying to recognize the man behind. It was Luthis with his hand up – he just saved Ailios's life. For a brief moment guilt took over Ailios's mind for all those japes he did on the mover's account. If they survived this mess, Ailios would apologize, he promised.

Luthis turned and disappeared behind tanks. More people were hurled up and splattered on the ceiling as he went.

Loud growl and explosions and shattering filled Ailios's surroundings. And the smell, it was the nastiest thing that Ailios had ever smelled in his life. It was something rotten, food maybe, mixed with burned metal and human feces. Ailios took the abomination's rifle from the floor, wrinkled his nose in disgust and went on to search for enemies.

One row he passed without seeing anyone, except those that splattered on the ceiling. Second row he passed where lot of the tanks were destroyed. He tried to avoid stepping on dead bodies when a tank fell in front of him and shattered. Adolescent, not fully developed, body wriggled out, tubes holding it not to escape. In panic Ailios aimed his rifle at the body and squeezed. The bullets dug deep into its flesh and blood started to come out in a steady stream. It still wriggled but not as much.

It was then that Ailios felt a presence behind him, a fearful shadow looming over him. His stomach clenched in fear, heart barely stopped. His vision narrowed for a moment, and quickly as that he spun, only to find death staring at his eyes again.

And then a bullet hit him in the head.
LUCIUS

The large screen looking into space from Aquila's bridge showed only blackness and blinking lights. Lots of blinking lights. Some of them were stars others were planets while just a tiny fraction of those lights belonged to the Lightning Bolt's hull. Lucius couldn't see the ship yet, but he knew it was there.

If only I didn't lose my eyes, he yearned with regret, I could've seen the ship long before we were on its tail. But he had what he had and there was nothing he could do about it. Unless the ship carries eyes as well. That would be bonus. But Lucius decided to avoid keeping his hopes high. Legs would suffice for now.

He leaned forward on his seat and squinted. Maybe those lights to the lower right are the ones I'm looking for? Lucius couldn't be more wrong. The merchant ship slowly emerged out of the blackness – from the upper left corner on the screen.

"They are still demanding recognition codes, Your Highness," said Arrius.

Lucius was frustrated by now. "There are no recognition codes," he said. This was the third time Lightning Bolt demanded recognition codes, whatever they were. "There is only identification friend or foe, captain. Even the civilians on Palatine know that. I believe this merchant captain is toying with us."

The ship grew larger as Aquila followed its trajectory from behind. Lucius could now see the ship better. It was black metal, shaped in the form of rectangular prism with a tiny tube-like neck that ended with a sphere covered in glass on the upper half. That's where the command bridge was, and its defying captain.

"Give them a warning shot," said Lucius. "Target their bridge."

Arrius relayed the command and not a second later a gigantic red beam exploded on the Lightning Bolt's surface. Its shielding barrier rippled by the impact and undoubtedly weakened, but the ship kept moving.

"Tell them to shut down their engines and prepare for boarding, if they value their lives. This is their last chance," Lucius lied. He wanted the ship as addition to his fleet. Undamaged.

Arrius transmitted the command through the regular communications channel but the result looked the same. Arrius shook his head.

Damn them!

Lartius was standing next to the emperor, shifting his weight from one leg to another, rubbing his hands. "I beg your pardon, Your Highness," he said with his crude robotic voice, "you asked me to be your advisor on this raid and..."

Lucius sent him a sharp glance. "Say what you have."

"May I suggest an EMP burst on their engines? It will certainly shut them down."

"I know it will," said Lucius. He looked at the screen again. "But a miss might damage the cargo." And that was a risk he was not willing to take. It was the sole reason they were here, he wasn't going to ruin his chance on getting his legs back. But Lucius quickly realized that his options were melting down like a heated metal. He had to stop that ship somehow and, if possible, take it back with him.

"I think the pirate is right about this, Your Highness," said Arrius. "A well-aimed EMP burst is the only way to stop them."

Lartius's face tightened. He aimed his finger at Arrius. "Mind your words, Arrius!"

"Captain Arrius to you," said Arrius.

"And I am Captain Lartius," said Lartius. "Not a pirate–"

"Enough!" Lucius stood up on his wheels. "I need solutions not quarrel among my men!" Arrius and Lartius bowed in remission. "Captain," said Lucius and both men raised their heads. "Arrius," Lucius clarified. "Prepare Caelus's children–"

"You are not planning to go there, Your Highness, are you?" said Arrius and then lowered his head, probably because he realized he was questioning his emperor's orders in front of his men again. It is dangerous – he sent along with his emotions of regret – and you are not ... not...

...Fit for it? – sent Lucius.

No, Your Highness, I didn't mean to–

"You will do as I command, captain," said Lucius and left the bridge. Two of the soldiers that were escorting Lucius on Burnum were waiting him outside the bridge, and now they followed him again. He would have to get used to having guards, no matter how insulting it may seem. I am Lucius Cornelius Venator, he would repeat in his head as he drove toward the elevator. The best Imperial soldier that ever lived. He was a descendant from a long line of Venators – the best Bion hunters in the system. Now I am a cripple, he thought ruefully. But not for long.

Inside the hangar, seven soldiers were waiting at attention for the emperor to arrive. They saluted him, and then their squad leader approached Lucius. "We are ready to deploy, Your Highness," he said. Lucius looked at his name tag right below his Silver Star medal. It said PONTIUS. There was no other way to recognize his soldiers at all as they had black helmets and gray plates on their faces. Their bodies were black with gray plates as well, and they were all identical. He tried to recognize them by their eyes, but that was a fools' errand; White lights were all they had. Now, without his cranial computer, he had to read name tags every time he wanted to address anyone by his name.

Pontius took a pistol from his back and passed it to Lucius. "I know you can handle yourself better than all of us combined, Your Highness, but we will feel a lot better if we know you have a weapon." It was a lie, both men knew, but it was a good-sounding lie.

Lucius held the weapon in his hand for a moment, measuring its weight. Before the accident on Timor he could've defeated anyone, human or savage, with nothing more than his own two hands. Now he needed weapons just to make sure he survives the battle while his soldiers do the fighting. It was tearing his heart. All he could do was swallow his pride, nod, and stash the weapon in the small container on his back.

"This is your pod, Your Highness," Pontius said as he led Lucius toward a door on the bulkhead. Once they reached it, Pontius helped him get inside. The door let a gentle sigh as it sealed behind Lucius.

Through one of the outer cameras, Lucius watched his men enter the children and prepare for departure.

On your command, Your Highness – sent Pontius.

Captain – sent Lucius – Position the ship so we land inside the cargo hold.

Acknowledged – sent Arrius.

Lucius switched to another camera, and on the small screen inside his pod the Lightning Bolt appeared. They were getting closer and the numbers under the screen proved that: twenty klicks, nineteen, eighteen... Gods, I am insane. I have no legs, no hand... My entire body can barely hold together. Even the launch will be dangerous for me. But he needed action. He needed to believe that the emperor was immortal. Unstoppable. He needed to inspire his people as well, to show them the righteousness of their cause.

Two klicks.

We are in position, Your Highness – sent Arrius – Deploying Caleus's children on your command.

Lucius gritted his teeth. His hand grabbed a vertical metal bar attached to the pod's frame while his claw surrounded it pathetically. Deploy – he sent. Ten space rocks left the hangar bay one after another in a collision course with Lightning Bolt. Lucius's left hand gripped the handle so hard that he thought it will fuse with the metal. Everything shook. His teeth clattered. The screen flickered wildly and his wheels bounced. He had the feeling as if the pod would disintegrate. But actually it was only his body that shook, trying to withstand the shock of space travel in a human-sized tube.

His screen showed speed and seconds before impact. This time the numbers dropped down faster. The black hull was fist-sized when they started their launch, now it filled the screen with blackness and rust, and Lucius was speeding toward it head first.

Gods, give me strength...

...Three, two, one – detonation. Metal squealed and cried and trembled. Lucius's claw detached and fell above his head. His knee hurt, his face smashed the screen, causing his brain to bounce inside his skull. He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut in an effort to drive away the pain. And then the door above his head opened. His body dropped in a free fall. His eyes opened in panic, hand groped the air. Only speeding black-gray shapes flew beside him.

If only he had his body, he would've rotated and landed on his feet and he would've eliminated any threat before the rest of his soldiers came down.

But not this time.

His head smacked the floor so hard that his vision blackened. The rest of his arm detached, leaving only a tiny piece of metal below the shoulder. He then felt every worthless piece of his body send his brain pain impulses, one after another – and that meant all of it. Lucius wished Doctor Modius had removed all pain receptors from this antiquated garbage. But it didn't matter now.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" Lucius heard someone say. He turned on his back, squinted. It was Pontius. Lucius nodded, cursing his body, and tried to stand up with a little help from his soldier. All that slamming and falling made him lose his balance on those freaking wheels, but Pontius was there to assist his emperor. He held Lucius under his arm until the world stopped spinning. Lucius then looked around through grimace of pain. Quickly he realized the cargo bay was full of shiny crates with military equipment and prosthetics. The row he was looking at was ten meters tall, fully stacked. It made his lips turn into a wan smile. Finally.

"Secure the bridge," said Lucius, "and bring me that wretched captain. Unharmed." He had plans for him for what he made him endure.

Pontius bowed. "As you command." He took two of his soldiers and disappeared through the door on the far left. Four soldiers secured the cargo hold, while Lucius's two guards remained beside him.

The emperor approached the closest crate – a two-meter-tall piece of happiness – and he read the inscription: VULCANUS ARMA OPTIMUM. The finest Imperial weapons, forged in the foundries on Stratoins at the edge of the solar system.

I will be raiding Stratonis next, he decided. His hand touched the polished surface, his fingers trailed the inscription. He was wondering what was inside – was it a pair of beam rifles? A Gatling gun? Maybe beam lances? If he ever used a weapon, then beam lances would be his weapon of choice, Lucius had said once. But back then he didn't need any weapons, his body was lethal enough.

His fingers moved over the keypad, gently touched a button, then another, and then another; and a green light came on with the word: OPEN. The crate's door swung outward and before Lucius's eyes could process what they saw, it was too late. He only felt something strike him in the temple and he was on the floor, his vision only a blur. Red lights flashed at the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't realize what sort of lights they were. His ears picked up the sound of beam weapons discharging, though not as clear as it should be. It sounded more like he was hearing them in slow motion.

He blinked, and he rolled on his back hoping his eye would clear up. But there was only a bright light from the overhead. And it turned brighter until it was all he could see.

Lucius was now a little boy again, frail and vulnerable. He was climbing down a wooden stairway in his house. He knew it was his house, but he didn't know how he knew that. He was going down on his toes, trying not to be heard for some reason. The stairs didn't comply with him, they creaked now and then. His hand passed over the wall for balance, and he accidentally tilted a painting that almost fell. His breath caught in his mouth – if it fell they would hear him. Lucius stopped and groped for the painting to keep it from falling even though he realized it wasn't going to fall after all. He stared at it while he got his breath back – something he found difficult to do lately. The painting was a portrait of a man with thick black mustache and a long narrow nose. His hair was slicked to the side, throwing a slight shadow over his brown eyes. Black ancient clothing covered his chest and shoulders. Lucius knew that man, he was certain, but he couldn't give the man a name. Then he heard voices – they were arguing again. Lucius kept climbing down until there were no more stairs left.

He tiptoed through a dark hallway, following the voices. They were becoming clearer to a point he could understand them well. Lucius stopped at the door and he pushed it slightly so he could peer inside. And there they were: the man from the portrait, wearing white clothing that went all the way to his knees, and a woman that always melted Lucius's heart whenever he would see her. She wore the same white clothing as the man, but her face was what struck him the most – Lucius looked just like her. He had the same full lips, her tiny nose, even the eyes black as the night ... he called her Mom.

"We have to do something, Alana," said the man with the mustache. "His time is running out."

"We don't know that," she said calmly, but Lucius knew she was worried, he knew that face, the frown and the curled lips – it always tore his heart.

"Denial isn't going to cure him, our project will."

Alana crossed her arms. "It was an accident, not his illness."

The man exhaled. He made few nervous steps inside the room, back and forth. It was a big room. There was a fireplace in the background that gave a dim light and filled the room with a familiar cracking sound that Lucas always liked; it made him sleepy when his lungs and heart were failing. The man stopped and scratched his chin, his gigantic shadow danced on the floor. "You know he didn't fall by accident," he said.

"It was a swing, Jon, kids fall from swings all the time."

"What about BioTech? We can take him there. Maybe they could help him, remove the bad genes..."

Alana turned her back on him. Something glistened on her face. Tears. "They can't help him, I ... I already called." Jon came closer to her, his hands cupped her shoulders. Alana turned and he wrapped his arms around her.

He whispered, "I will cure him. I promise. I promise."

Lucius felt tears going down his eyes. He brushed them away with the back of his hand. Suddenly he started feeling strange. It was his heart, or his lungs, he couldn't tell. His feet gave up, he was losing it. He collapsed and hit his head badly. He could taste blood in his mouth, it smells like old metal, Lucius reckoned. Then he heard rushing footsteps.

"Lucas!" Jon cried. "Lucas!" Lucius felt Jon's hands on his shoulders. They shook him, almost violently. It hurts, he wanted to say, stop it, but he couldn't. Something was wrong with him. "Call the medics!" Jon shook him again. "Stay with me, Lucas! Stay with me!" Lucius blinked, the shape of his father blurred beyond any recognition. "Lucas!" he shouted, but he sounded far away. "Lucas...!"

"...Lucius!" The shaking again. He hated it. "Lucius, wake up!"

Lucius gasped, realizing he was dreaming not a moment ago.

What was happening to him? He never endured such weakness. Even the body he had now was way better than the one in his dream.

"Ah, he's finally awake," Lucius heard someone say.

He snapped his eyes open, the blur slowly clearing away. It was a head in front of him, watching him. Doctor Modius? he wanted to say. But this man's face sharpened up and it was clearly not Modius. This man was as ugly as Pluto's guard dog, his face one of pure cybernetics. One eye was larger than the other and redder, like a splotch of Bion liquid. His nose was completely gone, his teeth were a mess – only few of them remained. But he had a blue cape on his back – a captain. "Welcome back, princess," he said. "You were screaming like a little girl."

"Where am I?" Lucius managed to ask. He then looked down at his arm. It was tied to the seat he was sitting on.

The captain gave a hideous smile. "You can always guess."

Lucius craned his neck and looked around to assess his situation. A command dashboard lay behind him, four other seats sprouted in front of him, and three bodies lay on the floor behind the seats. Lucius's eyes zoomed on the closest soldier to read his name tag. Pontius. He counted six men behind his gruesome captor, all in different positions around the bridge.

The captain turned and asked someone behind, "What do we do with him?"

The other man sat in the command seat. His body was built from Imperial steel coated with silver. He was tall and strong, a commander of noble birth there was no doubt about it. He turned his head to the side and said something in the language from Lucius's dream, but now Lucius couldn't understand a word. He tried to translate but the words just ran away. Then another voice came from the shadows of the bridge. Lucius looked above the man. The lights were either intentionally turned off or they were damaged. Then the commander translated the words to the ugly captain. "He must not be harmed," he said.

"Pity," said the ugly. "I was planning to take his head as trophy – the almighty Lucius Cornelius Venator, now sitting pathetically before me." The man gave Lucius his fist. Lucius's head hit the back of the seat and bounced back. His head hurt as bad as the sound it gave – a heavy clonk.

How did they know who I am? he wondered despite the pain. He rolled his head back and squinted. His eyes peered through the overhead window, searching for an answer. There were no stars, no blackness, only a metal surface. Lucius's eyes focused. The Imperial golden eagle was engraved on the metal surface, shining with pride – Aquila. Arrius was still there, still above the merchant ship.

Captain – Lucius sent immediately – away team failed. Casualties: unknown. I am held captive. Send reinforcements. The emperor waited for confirmation, but none came. Captain – he tried again.

The emperor felt a heavy hand pull his head down. The ugly leaned forward. He tapped a finger to his own temple. "It doesn't work, does it?" He then gave another fist. It hurt, a lot, but Lucius didn't utter a sound. He wasn't going to give this creature the pleasure.

"Aw, no screaming this time? I was just starting to like it."

Lucius gritted his teeth. "I am your emperor. Untie me. Now. And I will not execute you. I will only cut off your hands."

Ugly burst into laughter. He turned back. "Hear that boys? He will only cut off my hands." He turned to Lucius and leaned down. "My emperor is called gold. I serve him. And unlike you–" he nodded back at the commander– "they have tons of it."

Lucius glared at him. His hand tried to wriggle out of the cables, to reach his back and take out the pistol but he couldn't, he was well tied. And then he received another smack to his temple. Lucius's vision blackened again. He never had so much beating in a single day, he reckoned. That was a novelty.

His head leaned back on the seat, eyes stared through the window ... Something was moving. He blinked, must've been dust or a broken eye, but something was moving – children; three of them. Lucius lowered his head and glared the ugly. Ugly leaned closer with that hideous grin of his. They almost touched faces.

"Why are you smiling, princess? No one will be coming to the rescue, Lartius made sure it stays that way."

"Lartius?" That traitorous piece of metal!

Lucius stiffened his neck and gave a headbutt to the ugly. Gods, did that hurt. The ugly had a head full of metal not brain, it seemed. Luckily, it caught him by surprise. The man staggered backward and tripped on Pontius's body. He slammed on his back, hitting his head first on a seat and then on the floor. The silver-coated commander gave a nice laugh. The ugly struggled to get to his feet, and staggered again. I hit harder with my head than I knew, thought Lucius with a weak smile.

"Just smile, princess," muttered the ugly as he regained his footing. He made a step closer and raised his heavy fist for another smack, but then something darkened the command bridge. Lucius looked up at the three children right before impact. There was a detonation. Shards of thick glass exploded down on the men. The shockwave hurled everyone backward and away from the children's impact. Smoke covered the scene next, occasional sparks crackled somewhere behind the emperor. Lucius caught a glimpse of his men jumping from their pods. Beams were exchanged, lighting the smoke red. Metal limb snapped somewhere, someone screamed.

A loud crack from above overshadowed the weapons and screams. Lucius looked up. The window where the child was half-stuck was cracking, a thick line spreading away from the impact. Lucius grabbed his seat with his tied hand and prayed that it will keep him there. And then the crack widened.

"Your Highness!" someone called. It was Arrius. He appeared rushing out of the smoke, sword in hand, fresh blue liquid dripping down its tip. "Apologies for our delay," he said, "something was blocking our communications. Until we came into position for a visual on the bridge it was too late. We came as fast as we could." The captain's eyes scanned the emperor and then fixed on the cables that held him down. Arrius raised his sword up. Above it the crack had spread out on the entire window. More cracks came out of the larger one, more cracking sound. Arrius's sword glinted for a second.

"No, wait–!"

Arrius brought his sword down and the cables parted. In an instant the window exploded and sucked the smoke and four men out. Lucius couldn't tell if they were friend or foe. Somehow it didn't matter to him at that point. He grabbed the seat and watched his lower body float up. Arrius was sucked up but managed to get a hold of Lucius's left wheel.

"Hold on!" Lucius shouted. Another man flew out of the bridge. And then a metal shutter slid above the empty window, sealing the bridge off. It dropped everyone on the floor. Lucius scrambled to get himself up, but his wheels acted all weird – the left one was bent. Behind Arrius, Lucius caught a glimpse of the ugly captain. He aimed a beam lance at Arrius. Lucius's hand moved as quickly as it could, took out the pistol from his back and pushed himself aside to shoot the ugly.

Zap! Zap! Zap!

He missed all three. And a beam came back that struck Arrius. He screamed and made a step forward, pushed by the beam's force.

Lucius focused, aimed his unsteady hand, wanting to have another to make it steadier, and gave another shot – Zap! And ugly was one eye shorter. Scream, you ugly dog.

Arrius spun around and brought his sword up. He charged at the ugly and swiped his sword down with all his might and took that nasty screaming head down with it. Arrius quickly turned to seek another target. Lucius turned with him and swept his gaze across the bridge. One friendly soldier who had his foot over a dead enemy's chest was the only that remained. The rest were either dead or sucked out in space. Arrius sheathed his sword.

"Are you all right?" Lucius asked the captain as he drove awkwardly with his bent wheel closer to him, rocking every time the bent part touched the floor.

A deep hole of melted metal smoldered on Arrius's right shoulder. "Nothing Doctor Modius can't fix," he said. He looked around. "What happened here?"

"Lartius," said Lucius, "he betrayed us. We walked right into an ambush."

Arrius glowered when he heard the pirate's name. "You were right about him." Arrius closed his eyes momentarily. Lucius knew he was sending commands to his men, but he also knew that something was blocking all cranial communications.

Arrius opened his eyes. "No one's responding," he said.

"We need to find what's blocking our transmitters," Lucius said and then the ship shuddered. Arrius remained on his feet and grabbed Lucius before he could fall. They both exchanged glances. Another shudder, more powerful than the last. Arrius ran to the command dashboard, tapped some buttons. Sparks crackled above his fingers. He slammed his fist on the dashboard, screamed, "Lartius!"

Another shudder made Lucius lose his balance and fall on the floor. He fought to stand up and drive to the command seat. He buckled himself and started pressing buttons on the seat's command console. A small screen showed Aquila discharging weapons on them.

"He is targeting our engines," said Lucius. "They need me alive."

Another shudder.

Arrius turned, his fingers curled over his sword. "I am here for you, Your Highness."

Lucius moved his eyes on the screen. He gritted his teeth, pressed few more buttons and the Lightning Bolt started moving, slowly turning toward Aquila.

Arrius saw what Lucius was doing. His eyes opened wide. "Your Highness, you cannot possibly mean to..."

"I do mean to, captain. Take the soldier and head for the pods. Leave this ship. That is a command."

Arrius straightened. "I cannot obey that command, and I will not leave you to die, Your Highness."

"I do not plan to die, captain, trust me. Go for the pods. I will follow." Another explosion shook the ship and the bridge filled with smoke. "Go, captain! That's an order!"

Aquila grew larger on the screen. Lartius must've realized their intent by now as he tried to maneuver. He started to turn, slowly exposing Aquila's engines – just what Lucius wanted. Lucius then increased Lightning Bolt's speed.

Arrius hasted to his emperor, put his hand over his shoulder. "I will not leave you!"

"I need you at the pods. Go!"

Arrius wrinkled his face. The gas quickly arose over his body. He nodded reluctantly and turned to leave.

By now everything was shaking and sparking and throwing tons of gasses at Lucius, but Lucius was making sure that Lightning Bolt will crash into Aquila's engines. It was the only way he could make sure that Lartius would not take him again. Lucius would sacrifice the crew on Aquila, it was true, but he was Lucius Cornelius Venator, his decisions were always calculated. But if truth be told, he suspected the crew was alive anyway. That sneaky pirate had made sure, Lucius was certain. And he was going to pay for his betrayal.

Once the onboard computer took over, Lucius stood up and drove toward the door. His wheels turned slower than ever. He pressed turbo and prayed that he may leave in time.

Getting out of the bridge was the easy part it seemed, but passing through the tight neck of the ship was anything but easy. He tripped twice on dead bodies hidden by gas. The first time he didn't feel it much, but the second time he completely ruined his already damaged wheel. It was now going even slower than before and rocking even more than before. He knew that his time was running out. He had to hurry. The door to the cargo hold was there, so close.

When he opened it, the sight of what was inside made him desperate. It seemed as if every crate had fallen down and piled in pyramids that made his passage impossible. He had wheels, not legs. He drove to the first pile and he climbed on it, crawling with one hand and wriggling the rest of his body. Lucius never felt so useless before. But his will to survive and avenge for everything they have done to him was stronger than ever. And he wanted his throne back. That thought alone gave him strength he did not know he had.

He crawled and wriggled and crawled and wriggled some more until he reached the top. He tumbled down, another pile followed. The ship shook and shuddered. Time was running out, but he would survive. He had to.

Another explosion shook the cargo hold like an earthquake. One massive crate above Lucius quivered. He looked up helplessly as the crate came tumbling down. Lucius crawled and wriggled but it was not fast enough. It was only pain he felt at that moment – sharp intense pain from his abdomen down. He screamed, and quickly gritted his teeth to hold the rest of his screaming. He looked down his body. The crate had smashed his wheels and stomach. He turned, wires and metal squealed. He grunted. Suddenly he felt tears sliding down his cheek. His hand touched his face but there was no moist, not like in his dream. I am delusional, he thought. I have to get to the pod.

He mustered all the strength he could, and with his hand he pushed the crate down. More wires detached, more metal squealed. Sparks jumped away from his stomach. The pain was close to being unbearable. I will kill Modius for leaving pain receptors, he thought as if additional anger would give him strength.

He pushed, harder. He screamed, louder. And then that was it. He couldn't cut down his body and leave. He was stuck there. How pathetic. I was supposed to die in battle. Not here. Not like this. There were more tears sliding down his cheek, or so he imagined. The pain was inside of him now, his entire being hurt, not just his body.

And then a hand extended from the gas. It gripped the emperor by his arm. I am imagining that too, he thought and gave up. He waited for Lightning Bolt to explode. But the hand seemed real enough. It pulled him away from the crate, ripping his body in half. He found himself on top of someone's shoulders then. He wiped his imaginary tears and he looked down. Arrius.

"You were supposed to leave," Lucius said.

Arrius climbed over a pile of crates and his reverse-joint legs propelled him in a jump above another pile. "I didn't plan to leave you here, Your Highness," he said as he landed. "You have an empire to rule." It was the best thing that Lucius had heard in his life.

It didn't take them long to reach the pod. The soldier was already inside and activated the pod's computer. He helped Lucius buckle up in his seat. Arrius took a seat next to his emperor.

"Let us leave this place," Lucius ordered.

"Soldier," Arrius said, "you heard His Highness."

The soldier tapped some buttons over the pod's command dashboard. The pod shuddered and off they went.

Lucius turned and watched Lightning Bolt limp with one flickering engine after the massive battleship that still struggled to turn. Arrius had pressed his face to the window. He watched how his ship was getting away from him.

Aquila had finally managed to turn, but too late. There was a flash of bright light. Lucius put his hand over the window to shield his eyes. Quickly as that the brightness imploded. Secondary explosions on Aquila's hull spread from its engines, consuming every deck in a deadly fire as it extended toward the bridge.

"Burn, you scum," Lucius mumbled on the thought of Lartius getting closer to his death.

Arrius shook his head. His lips were pressed together, eyebrows lowered. Lucius put a hand over the captain's shoulder. "I will get you a better ship. One you deserve. I promise."

Arrius nodded, but his eyes still gazed at the Aquila. It was now nothing more than scattered pieces of metal, still exploding and breaking down. Maybe some of his crew survived, maybe none did.

"It was a good ship," Arrius said. He lowered his head, and then he stood up and moved away from the window. He had it enough.

But Lucius was still looking.

"Your Highness," he heard Arrius say. The captain held a shiny crate in his hands. He opened its door and a pair of military-grade legs lay inside. "We have your legs." Arrius turned toward another crate. "And arms. And a full soldier's body."

Lucius took a quick glance at the soldier sitting at the pilot's seat. He tried to imagine having that same body instead of the ruined one he was left with. It was a tall body with improved reflexes and strength. Its muscles were black carbon nanotubes hidden under gray metal plates. It was not nearly close to the golden body he lost, but it was a step closer to reclaiming his throne.

Arrius lowered his head. "I am sorry I could not find more suitable body for you, Your–"

"It will do," said Lucius. "And from now on you will call me Lucius. I command you." His friends called him that. Olybrius, Macrinus, Carus even. But they were gone now. Arrius was his friend now, and a damn fine friend he turned out to be.

"Your Highness?" said the soldier.

"What is it...?" Lucius wanted to say soldier, but his eyes zoomed at his name tag. "Helvius," he said.

"You have to see this," said Helvius. He pressed couple of buttons and a screen above the dashboard sprang to life.

Images of Palatine's capitol played. Forum Magnum filled with grieving people. Some of them cried, others lowered their heads, but all of them were sad enough. There was a procession in the middle – a long line of Praetorians carrying a man in ceremonious bed made out of pure gold. It was a funeral and the man they carried was Emperor Titus.

Lucius's only hand curled into a fist of anger, his teeth gritted to another pain threshold. How dares the usurper mock me like this?

Female voice started talking in the background. "Our great Emperor Titus will be remembered as the greatest ruler of all. But now, ladies and gentlemen, I present you our new emperor. May the gods favor his rule." Lucius glared at the screen as the camera moved over the palace and then stopped over a wide balcony between two obelisks, overlooking Forum Magnum. Red banners flapped relentlessly, golden eagles dancing emblazoned in the middle. Below them Praetorian Guards stood with pride.

Traitors! You are all traitors! Lucius's fist now hurt, his teeth were almost displaced. And then the massive doors swung open. Crowds in the forum cheered and applauded. Praetorians moved aside. The man that killed Emperor Titus and stole his throne took a step through the door. His feet of Imperial steel and gold trod over the red carpet. His legs and body decorated like a true emperor with golden geometric shapes and medals, strode forward. His chin was covered in golden flames that went up all the way to make up a hair of golden fire. His face above the lips and between flames was covered in skin. His eyes were black and deadly. Lucius released his fist. His jaw dropped; a welcoming relief for his teeth. His cybernetic heart almost skipped a beat.

The usurper walked down the balcony. He stopped at the edge – people swarming below like insects – his hands rose up. The crowd went frantic, crying his name over and over and over again.

Their savior.

Their protector.

Their emperor.

Lucius Cornelius Venator.

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Table of Contents

FLESH AND STEEL

SYSTEM MAP

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS
