 
### Gamma Nine

By Christi Smit

Copyright © 2017 by Christi Smit.  
All rights reserved.

This book is protected under international copyright laws and by the Republic of South Africa. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Warning: It is recommended to read the series in chronological order. Reading the series out of sync will not make sense.

### Chronological Order:

Gamma Nine (Book One)

Artemis: A Gamma Nine Short Story

Gamma Nine: Dawn of Extinction (Book Two)

For more information visit:

www.gamma-nine.com

# Table of Contents

Author's Foreword  
Chapter Zero  
Chapter Zero.One  
Chapter Zero.Two  
Chapter One  
Chapter One.One  
Chapter One.Two  
Chapter Two  
Chapter Two.One  
Chapter Three  
Chapter Three.One  
Chapter Three.Two  
Chapter Four  
Chapter Four.One  
Chapter Four.Two  
Chapter Five  
Chapter Five.One  
Chapter Five.Two  
Chapter Six  
Chapter Six.One  
Chapter Six.Two  
Chapter Seven  
Chapter Seven.One  
Chapter Seven.Two  
Chapter Eight  
Chapter Eight.One  
Epilogue  
About the Author  
Leave a Review
_For G  
The brightest light in the ever-growing darkness.  
Even the stars envy you when you shine.

You made all of this possible.  
_

# A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR OR THE "THIS MIGHT BE AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE BUT PROBABLY ISSN'T PART"

The idea for this novel was conceived many years ago, I say conceived because it grew in my mind for as long as I care to remember, growing little by little into what it is now and what it will become, hopefully. It was only when I started writing this novel that I realized how big of an enemy self-doubt can be. This novel pushed my sanity to its very limits, I doubted myself after almost every passage or chapter, and I still do. The questions you ask yourself hinder your productivity and make you one angry bastard. I appreciate my partner even more for putting up with my sour and downright difficult moods. Is there enough action in the first chapters? Will your readers read through the slower parts? Maybe they won't like your writing style. Maybe you missed a fact and it buggers up your entire novel. These questions and more flowed through me every time I sat down to write, perhaps certain days to my own detriment.

But, I did it. Even through all of the self-doubt, you are reading this and are about to go on a great journey with me and my characters. I was not going to write something here when I started out, afraid that I might sound pompous or arrogant. My intention is to butter you up for what is to come. Let me explain before I lose your already wavering interest.

I dislike novels without a proper stage and background. As a lover of everything Science Fiction, I enjoy reading about the past of whatever is currently happening in the novel. The details are what make the story for someone like me. Why was that there? What happened during that time? Why are they fighting? So on and so forth.

In certain novels it works to just drop a reader in the middle of a frantic or dire circumstance and watch the character, and reader, struggle their way out of the hole that the author has dug for them. You might grip a reader better that way, but later on down the path the novel might lack enough information to carry the story further, or too many world building passages need to be inserted into the story, breaking the flow of the main path. Many times I found myself having to page back to try and find something mentioned earlier or referred to in an obscure passage. I was always afraid that I might have missed some vital piece of information, maybe ruining the novel for myself a little.

This novel is different. This novel starts off slow, I have no illusions about that, but it is like that for a specific reason. You would not expect to watch a film from halfway in and know exactly what transpired before you started watching, only if you watched it before can you piece together where you are in the story. I chose to build the world or universe my characters inhabit before the story kicks off. I like the finer details, reading about how something came to be, or how past events led to the present time. The stage pieces have to be perfectly set before I can call action on my story. I prefer to call it galaxy building, world building is not the correct word for what I am doing. Think of it as billions of lights turning on one by one across planets and sectors, you - the reader - might not see or read about every single light's story or journey, but no matter how insignificant, they are still vital to how everything moves forward as time passes. A man might die in the shadow of his mining craft on the other side of the galaxy, his death will mean nothing to the current story arc, but it is still part of the universe and might just play some role in it eventually.

Even this, what was supposed to be a short paragraph or two, turned into a lengthy meandering about personal feelings and my universe. I am surprised I have not mentioned my love for unicorns or crayons yet...oh never mind, I just did.

If I can say only one thing to you, my reader, is thank you for giving me the chance to tell you my story, thank you for getting your hands on this novel and taking a chance on a random stranger. I hope in some way my stories can ignite only a small flame within your imagination, if you could see everything unfold as I have, and if you can dream like I do, then I have succeeded in every way possible.

Get through the slower opening parts, but pay attention to it as well, the Zero chapters contain many interesting facts, watch as the universe I wanted to create comes alive and follow the people through it until the end. You will not regret it. You can, if you wish to, skip the Zero chapters, but you will be missing out on some great detailing, motivations and crucial information pertaining to the story I am telling. The choice I leave up to you, just don't expect a lot of dialogue in the Prologue. Most of it is purely there to set you up for an epic journey through the stars.

Now, take my virtual hand, and let me guide you through the first part of my story. Let me show you all the magnificent things along the way as we walk in the footsteps of Titans.

# Chapter Zero  
Subjugation

" _We had become the masters and kings of Earth. We had conquered disease, war and famine. The flag of our race stood firmly planted on the highest mountain of our home world. We stood there, on the highest peak, together. We watched as humankind flourished and lived together in peace. A few of those that stood on that peak were content with what they saw, some were not. As ever, those that were not content wanted more, their hearts needed more. They looked to the stars and saw the infinite potential hidden between them. They saw the resources and treasures just waiting to be plundered, and their hearts grew covetous. We should have considered the consequences of living and building among the stars. But we were too ignorant and too greedy. Our reach always exceeded our grasp. For in the darkness of the void an entity had been waiting for centuries, waiting for something exactly like our race to sink its teeth into."_

Centuries had passed since the dominion of humankind had scattered itself throughout the known systems in the Milky Way. It was so vast that no ship could travel from one end of our star kingdom to the other end in a single decade. Our race had spread like an infection across the stars, plundering as we went. Nothing we encountered on alien planets could match our prowess and intellect. Most, if not all, alien species we found were nothing but mere creatures, wildlife in most cases. There was no semi-intelligent species capable of posing a threat to us.

Perhaps this was why we became so arrogant and lax in our protocols, and little by little we made mistakes. It was one of these small mistakes that led to one of the major events in our race's history. We were so strong, so arrogant, nothing and no-one could dethrone humankind. We were oblivious and blind to the weakness of humans and the dangers that lurked in the dark unknown. This time, however, there was a hidden and much darker hand pulling at the strings behind the scenes of our unplanned demise.

At first there seemed to be no plan to what was unleashed on humankind, but during the war it was made clear by the actions of our enemies what the plan for our kind really was. We were not to be dominated or conquered. There would be no slaves or prisoners. We were to be consumed to satisfy an ancient insatiable hunger.

On a planet in the Seraph Cluster far in the Galactic North an entity waited to be set free. This organism had no body of its own, only a dark will to feed. The planet Angelicas would become the epicentre of the war against our race.

The planet Angelicas was one of the first planets colonized during the initial phase of exploration by P-SEP, now the most powerful corporation in the dominion of man. The Pegasus Space Exploration Project created and built the first Star Explorer vessels used during the first exploration missions. These giant vessels were specifically built to travel from Earth using their BEAM, Beta Electron Accelerator Module, drives to propel them and their cargo to distant star systems in a fraction of the time, as opposed to conventional void drives. Star Explorers contained millions of crew and civilians to colonize new planets, vast engineering capabilities and bays, agricultural storage and enough materials to build or manufacture whatever a new colony could possibly need. Hundreds of these moon sized vessels were built, only a handful of them never reached their destinations. P-SEP's master plan of taking humankind to the stars was a resounding success. The Star Explorers also acted as communication arrays once deployed in the orbit of a planet. Forming one of the many important communication nodes in the web of nodes located throughout the galaxy.

SE6-Angelicas orbited the planet once designated as Gamma Nine for more than three hundred years, the planet was later renamed in honour of the Star Explorer that had found and colonized it. It was when this old vessel went silent that we knew there was trouble stirring in that sector. The Angelicas communication node fell silent without warning. No distress signals were ever sent, no word of any problem ever received. At first only the Star Explorer went silent, but as the silence spread through the Seraph Cluster, the unease of the people neighbouring that sector grew.

The silence spreading across the sector was a delayed response to a mistake made by our own hubris. A mining crew out on routine excavation duties mined too deep and hit a cavern of unknown organic life. They could not see the organic life within or begin to understand the nature of the organism hidden there, only a microscope could reveal the horrors that were trapped beneath the crust. The miners that accidentally inhaled the organism that fateful day were unaware of the calamity yet to come.

Maybe we could have saved more, and maybe we could have stopped the war. No-one knows exactly how long this organism was trapped beneath the crust of Angelicas, slowly consuming the planet from within. We only knew the destruction it was capable of once it could feed. The organism that was freed that day only came into the light of our consciousness after it had infected too many to count or stop. Many years passed after the cavern was breached, and yet no knowledge of the organism's existence was ever known until it was too late. An invisible entity had found a suitable environment to evolve into its next phase, inside of our own flesh. There it was waiting for the time to strike, sharpening its claws in the darkness of our souls.

If it was not for the unsettling and terrifying means the enemy used to make itself known, we would have never known what lurked in the shadows of our ever expanding star kingdom. The silence was the first sign that something was wrong, but what followed in its wake crushed our spirits before we even saw the enemy. Out of the silent hole that was the Seraph Cluster came an inhuman scream, carried by the voices of the infected.

This scream filled the communication nodes on all broadcasting networks and reached as far as our home planet, Earth Prime as it is now called. Those of us that were not weak minded survived the scream's initial psychological onslaught, but others were not so lucky. Some were killed the instant the scream was heard, others descended into madness. The madness that afflicted the weaker ones destroyed their minds, and the mindless ripped and clawed at their own flesh. Survivors of the inhuman scream that penetrated our kingdom and our minds didn't dare speak of what they saw the mindless do. The atrocities of the mindless were, as the future would teach us, nothing compared to the real reason for the scream being unleashed upon us.

The monstrous scream was not a warning of any kind; instead it was the way the enemy communicated over vast distances. Soldiers that faced the enemy on the battlefield would later describe the scream as the voice of demons pouring into their minds. It used our own communication network against us to awaken the dormant infected hidden across the cosmos.

The infection had spread so far and had infected so many. Later testing done by scientists during the war would expose the manner of infection. Microscopic spores, disguised as sores on an infected person's body would release its deadly invisible payload into the atmosphere, artificial or planetary, and infect everyone in close proximity to an infected host. The manner of infection made it almost impossible to stop others from being infected. Infection rate also increased after the scream activated the sleeper cells within us.

Infected humans and creatures on distant alien planets that were scattered into the wind by time were all awoken when the scream spread throughout the networks. All of them were instantly transformed in mind, frozen in a trance state. Shortly after the infected just seemed to stop and form part of a single consciousness. They moved as one and started hunting those of us that were not infected. On space stations, aboard ships and in colonies, hordes of infected moved, stalking the rest of us like a predator stalking its prey. So many of us died without even a chance of defending ourselves, we were ripped and torn apart without a hope of escape. The infected had only one goal, to feed. And as if the realization of being fed upon by our own kind was not enough, the mutations that changed the infected brought new levels of fear to humankind.

The infection changed and mutated the bodies of the infected into grotesque parodies of humans. Bones grew to new and horrible forms, some forming blades, others adding to their bulk. No infected looked the same, every single one a different creature from our worst nightmares. Some had elongated faces like mythical creatures out of ancient tales, while others looked like amalgamations of demons and men. There was no single template, it was as if the gates of Hades had opened and every manner of monster had spilled out into our reality. The most frightening thing was perhaps that there was nothing supernatural about the mutations. Only the bravest of humankind could face down the beasts and not falter.

By the time the survivors had regrouped after the initial onslaught an uncountable number of humans had lost their lives. The beasts destroyed and consumed anything in their path. We had lost more than half of our vast star kingdom to the beasts feeding on our flesh. Most of what we had built was now a silent tomb to the dead, in some sectors there were still desperate fights for survival. But the outlook was grim, and the humans in the unaffected zones held little hope for those trapped in the dead zones. The monsters we now had to face were referred to as the Beast by propaganda spewing networks. The name stuck and our enemy now had a name.

The Beast had caught us off-guard, overwhelmed most of our colonies in the dead zone, and it had annihilated man, woman and child without hesitation. The call went out in the safe zone for all volunteers to assemble at pre-determined locations to fight the Beast by any means necessary; we needed to contain the threat before it overwhelmed the zones that had less infected running rampant.

Many planetary and void skirmishes were fought to keep humankind from becoming extinct. Millions of P-SEP's own personal defence force was sent from Earth Prime to help with containment. Soldiers from planets on the frontline between the safe zone and the dead zone fought and died to protect what was left of our star kingdom. Planets on the edge between the two zones were highly contested and neither side could achieve victory. The planets turned in to charnel house for human and Beast alike. Our military resources capable of destroying or eliminating vast amounts of the Beast was trapped behind enemy lines, destroyed or held in reserve around Earth Prime. It was not yet clear if the Beast was capable of breaking out of the dead zone and pushing further into the safe zone. Our planet killing weapons were not yet operational and we were left with a tug of war with the Beast for over fifty years. Neither side gained ground, everything hung by a thread as the stalemate could not be broken.

Our resources were limited and in some sectors dwindling dangerously low. The sectors that were safe were mostly newly colonized planets in the Galactic South. Only a few of the sectors were first generation colonies. Production and colonization took time and manpower, things we didn't have in abundance. We needed something new and powerful to push back at the Beast. We needed to retake our lost sectors and re-unite our star kingdom. We needed what the faithful still among us called a miracle. The answer came not long after our hope had begun to fail.

# Chapter Zero.One  
Rise

" _They were the tip of the sword. They were the first to deploy and last to withdraw. They made the best of a dire situation, achieving victory where most could only see defeat. They numbered only a few thousand, yet their bravery never wavered in the face of evil and insurmountable odds. Because of them we were given more time, because of them we were able to rebuild. The Titans were the hammer and shield of humankind, but as history taught our race - all Titans must fall."_

The great minds of our time spent every waking moment after Subjugation Day - the name we had given the day the Beast had awoken - trying to find an answer to the Beast. Intellectuals, engineers and tacticians worked tirelessly for decades, scavenging for resources to build better weapons, and research new ones. There were many new breakthroughs in the fields of weapon development and soldier enhancements, but none of them were enough or viable on the field of battle against the Beast.

Chief Scientist Thomas Wexler from the planet New Horizon P-SEP research centre gave us the answer we had been searching for. He brought together multiple fields of research and made them all work in unison to create what he named The Titan Project.

The Titan Project consisted of a new type of mechanized suit, manually operated by its Operator from within. These suits were named Articulated Refuge Constructs, or ARC suits as the Operators called them. Operators were enclosed by the strongest materials known to humankind. Anctinium armour plating covered an Anctinium-mesh suit, and beneath the mesh suit the liquid nanites protected the outer epidermis and internal organs from within. The Liquid Nano Robotic system was injected into an Operator's body when interfacing with the ARC suit. The liquid nanites healed any damage an Operator could sustain during operation. Interface plugs were surgically implanted into all Operators in the limbs and spine, with the most important plug situated at the top of the spine just below the nape of the neck. Without these plugs, Operators could never control the ARC suits to their full potential. It is said that the surgery to implant the interface plugs for the ARC suit was excruciatingly painful.

Only the bravest and the best soldiers that could be spared from the armed forces were recruited and put through trials. The Titan Trial was the worst kind of military training known to man, gruelling and sometimes just cruel. Recruits were stretched mentally and physically beyond what could be considered acceptable levels. Out of over ten thousand recruits less than half survived the trials, and implantation and calibration with the ARC suits claimed even more lives. By the time the few thousand Titans that survived the trials were ready, more than sixty years had passed since Subjugation Day. The Titans were broken up into smaller squads before deployment and Operators maintained their former armed forces ranks.

Their first deployment would be on the frontline, on the planet Arkelis in the Iona sector. The Beast and soldiers from the armed forces had been waging war for over a decade on that planet. Arkelis was on the verge of being overrun by the Beast, the soldiers stationed there were barely holding out against our tireless and ravenous enemy. It was on the surface of Arkelis that the Titan's metaphorical and literal metal would be put to the test. Arkelis would be the ultimate test for our new weapon. Humankind's future sat on a knife's edge. Win or lose, our hope rested solely on the shoulders of the Titans.

The years had not been kind to the mutations of the Beast. On the surface of Arkelis our race saw what time had done to the infected. With every passing decade the Beast had evolved into more vicious and less recognizable monsters. What was left of the human templates underneath the mutating flesh and bone was now completely gone, soldiers facing them on the battlefields throughout our star kingdom could not discern if these creatures were once human or of alien origin. It seemed that a new race had been born into the light decades ago, a race born to consume every living thing in the universe.

Humankind stood in the Beast's path. We could have left the rest of our universe to fall under their claws and teeth, running and surviving for as long as it took for the monsters to find its prey. Or we could fight; stand against it while we were still able to, and stop the tide of nightmarish fiends assailing our kingdom's walls. We were after all, at least in some way, to blame for what happened.

Our resources were limited, our soldiers tired and our hope almost depleted. The fleet that was still available for military action were mostly made up of infantry carriers and cargo haulers. Very few battle ready cruisers and scout ships were left, and almost all of them were now on patrol between the safe zone and the highly contested dead zones. Subjugation Day had taken its toll on the fleets and the military docking facilities situated in the dead zones, most of them now only derelict ghost ships hanging in the void. Only three capital ships still remained, these armoured and deadly behemoths were assigned to the defence of Earth and its solar system. After Subjugation Day, Earth's solar system entry points were blockaded by P-SEP and its military wing to protect our home planet from whatever threat was able to reach it. Nothing was allowed in or out of the solar system, Earth and its sister planets were all isolated from the rest of the star kingdom. Like a king going into hiding during a siege, the councils and leaders of those planets closed the doors on the rest of us. The rest of the star kingdom could only communicate with the outer nodes within our home solar system and report progress on the war with the Beast.

Circumstances were grim, but we still had a tiny spark of hope left that we had not used yet. Our experimental weapon was about to join the war against the Beast. Two cruisers named Hammer Break and Hyperion were loaded with battle ready Titans and all of their supporting crew and gear. On the eve before they would take to the field of battle, the Hammer Break and the Hyperion entered the space around Arkelis unannounced and unnoticed. The deployment of the Titans would be a surprise to all that fought on the planet's surface. It ensured tactical advantage, something we desperately needed.

Drop ships descended from the Hammer Break and Hyperion now orbiting the silent void above Arkelis. The drop ships headed straight for the largest land mass on the planet's surface, Evodus; there the raging battle was the most ferocious. A little over two thousand Titans were deposited amid the frontlines across Evodus, to the surprise of the soldiers already fighting for their lives.

The Titans stormed out of their drop ships and immediately rushed the Beast, hammering them with volleys of automatic fire while others suited and outfitted for close quarters charged into the Beast horde. Soldiers close to the drop points rallied to them without question, their lustrous new armour like beacons to those around them. Bodies of the enemy were heaped up around the areas were Titans were locked in combat with the Beast. They had little difficulty in dispatching the human-sized infected, bigger and bulkier infected were downed by squads working as one. None fell during the first few hours of the Battle for Arkelis, and slowly but surely they were proving that they could be our saviours. Kill counts and reports flooded the battlefield networks all confirming one thing, that the count of enemy dead was in the thousands and climbing all the time. Soldiers fighting with the Titans witnessed acts of great valour on the battlefield. The tide had finally started to turn in favour of the humans fighting on Arkelis. Within a few hours they had the Beast on the back foot and reeling from their surprise assault. Already they were becoming legends.

One squad in particular fought tirelessly to break the back of the beasts they faced. They protected the soldiers around them with fervour, not letting one single soldier die while they still drew breath. The officers and soldiers that fought in close proximity to this particular squad all reported the same thing. A snarling white wolf, painted on the upper arm of every member of this squad, could be seen blazing as they fought. These Titans fought in silent tandem as they obliterated everything around them, pushing the beast further back as they were cut down by bullet and blade. They had fought hard and had pierced deep into the Beast's lines, eventually reaching a plateau overlooking the battle lines. From the elevated plateau they had the perfect vantage point of the surrounding areas. It was there that the legend of the Grim Wolves was forged in blood and courage.

The Grim Wolves, their name bestowed upon them by the survivors of Arkelis, rallied all of the soldiers around them to their new vantage point. They fought off wave after wave of Beast assaults, their elevation making them a prime focal point for the enemy's wrath. The dead piled up as the Titans fought on, normal soldiers were dying as the Grim Wolves could not protect all of them while trying to keep the monsters from overrunning their position. Dead soldiers and Beast alike heaped up on all sides, yet they fought on. The Grim Wolves were reaping the mutated lives of the infected as easy as smothering a candle's flame, their kill count now lost in the fury of battle. When their ammunition was no more they fought with blades, when their blades were broken they fought with their armoured hands.

They lost all sense of time as they fought the enemy, not realizing that the battle around them had begun to wind down. They never heard the scream that had spread through the Beast horde signalling the time to turn and run. Other squads were now converging on their position as well, squads that were able to move more freely now that the Beast was in retreat. The Beast had been broken by our new weapon. By the time the surrounding Titans had reached the top of the plateau eight of the Grim Wolves still stood, one knelt and another had fallen. Silence gripped the squads that found them, as the dust settled the true carnage that the Grim Wolves had inflicted became clear. The height of the plateau had been raised by a dozen or more feet, the dead forever tangled together to form a new mountain peak on the continent of Evodus.

For eleven hours they had fought without pause, without rest. From the moment they had deployed, they had slaughtered their way through the Beast horde, killing thousands in their path to victory. Of over the two thousand Titans that fought during the battle on Arkelis, only three hundred had fallen, with half of that injured or incapacitated. Deaths recorded by regular military units were deemed within acceptable levels by military command. The number of soldiers that lost their lives on Arkelis was never released, it was rumoured to be close to four million lives spent defending that planet.

The Titans were now a proven concept and P-SEP military command ordered more to be trained for the war against the Beast. Resources from all planets located in close proximity to New Horizon were requisitioned to help further the Titan Project. Facilities on New Horizon would create and train new Titans as resources allowed. These requisitions rendered economies in required materials and resource trading obsolete in most of these neighbouring sectors. Sectors that had only limited resources descended into poverty and chaos, piracy was rampant and entire sectors went dark as they tuned on each other or refused to supply any more resources. Civil wars broke out across the star kingdom as sectors declared their independence, distancing themselves from the war with the Beast and the rest of P-SEP owned sectors. The war with the Beast had drained P-SEP and humankind, and we were forced to turn a blind eye to these rebellious sectors. Sectors that had broken away from the star kingdom would have to be dealt with at a later time, when resources allowed it.

The Titans that were still operational after the Battle of Arkelis had no chance to recover, they were immediately sent on new operations within the dead zone. It was during these operations that a weakness in the Titan Project was discovered. The success of the Titans on the field of battle was a double-edged sword. They called it Nano-sickness, but it was much more complicated than that. Those that fought for extended periods of time relied more and more on the Nano machines to repair muscle damage from battle strain, and protect their vital organs from complete failure. As they fought the Nano machines supplied them with vital fluids and nutrients, which is why they were able to fight without rest for weeks.

But the reliance on these Nano robotics caused damage of their own, once Operators were removed from the suits they would fall into deep healing comas due to the strain the body was under during operation. The comas were part healing and part exhaustion, the body shut itself down to protect the vital organs from burning out. They were never tested for extended battle periods and this weakness had escaped the notice of the scientists and researchers that created them. The Titans themselves never noticed this fatigue during combat as it only occurred after more than a week of suit operation, and none had fought for such a long time before full deployment.

To combat this weakness, scientists built specialized recuperation tanks to decrease the down time of Titans after missions. Operators were removed from their suits immediately upon operation completion and placed within one of the recovery unit tanks. Operators were drained off all Nano machines and pumped full of stimulants to help recover body mass and speed up the body's natural healing process. Because of this recovery cycle Titans were used in more single strike operations on planets and void missions.

There was no visible command structure to the Beast, so there were no valuable targets to use our new weapon against or leaders to assassinate. Instead, the Titans were used on the frontline, commanding and strengthening the soldiers around them. Salvage and recovery missions were standard practice as Titans were the perfect tools to recover derelict ships drifting in the void. The recovery and salvage of these derelict ships were paramount in the eyes of P-SEP, vessels could be used to maintain other vessels, or they could be repaired and used again. Void recovery and salvage missions were the most dangerous, the Beast trapped within the confines of a dead ship were more deadly than those set free on the battlefields. They were also deployed to protect and defend installations throughout the star kingdom under attack from the enemy. Mass Titan deployment was left as a contingency plan should the situation ever call for it. They were helping to hold the Beast at bay, and did so for many years after their deployment. The Titans were spread out across the operational ships within the P-SEP fleet, achieving extraordinary records of missions successfully completed throughout the star kingdom. However, as the universe had taught our race many times...

Nothing ever lasts.

# Chapter Zero.Two  
Fall

" _The constructs they wore granted them the strength of mythical beings, their courage unrivalled on the fields of battle. But underneath all of the technology and armour plating they were still only human, we were foolish to ever think of them as more than that. Our foolishness overestimated their capabilities, perhaps due to our hope growing in the wake of their victories. In the end, they fell like the rest of us."_

As time passed after the Battle of Arkelis, more and more isolated incidents of infected humans appeared throughout the sectors. On planets, in colonies and on-board void stations the infected would appear out of nowhere, spreading their infectious hunger and hate for our kind. The Titans were quick to respond to all threats; their efficiency staggering, the speed at which they completed operations was beyond what we thought possible. Together they reclaimed colonies, defended refugees, held back attacks from our enemy and found precious lost commodities. A large portion of the close proximity dead zones to the frontlines were purged of all Beast infections. Our gamble on such an expensive weapon seemed to be justified. We expected losses, everyone did, but we never expected the losses to impact us in such a way. With every one that died, a hero passed from life into history, and we felt every one that didn't return from an operation, we needed them to survive for the sake of all of us. The Beast somehow sensed this and retaliated in sectors all over the star kingdom, how they knew that we were beginning to show weakness we will never know, but it was not just mere coincidence.

Following the years of their first deployment only a few had perished during missions, and those ranks would then be reinforced by new recruits from New Horizon's facilities. For a period all was well with the P-SEP military machine feeding the Titan Project with everything it needed. But out there in the darkness between the stars the Titans fought and died alone, and little by little their ranks thinned. P-SEP tried to reinforce the squads, but as the number of operational Titans dwindled, so did the resources and man power required to create new ones. Another problem was that New Horizon could not keep up with the demand, fewer and fewer Operators were trained and deployed to squads that needed vital strengthening. The rebellion in the sectors around New Horizon didn't help the Titan Project either; it had swallowed up almost all of the key production facilities that supplied the project with valuable resources.

Reserve resources were all that was left, without new sources of Actinium, now a very rare commodity, the Titan Project would grind to a halt. This halt would mean that no more Titans could be trained, and no more ARC suits could be built without the required resources. To make the situation worse, the cargo vessel hauling the crucial Nano robotic systems vanished without a trace before it could reach New Horizon. Its last transmission received moments before it entered the sector, nothing appeared to be wrong before the vessel went dark.

Titans on operations deep in the dead zones were left to complete their objectives, while others closer to the safe zones were reassigned to secure resource deposits within the dead zones and rebellion zones. Other squads in the safe zone that were on defence duty were tasked to travel to the planet New Horizon to resupply and reinforce. One by one, the Titans expired while fighting the enemy of humankind. Their deaths leaving a gaping void in the ranks of the brave heroes, voids that could not be filled and squads were left understrength.

Fewer than two hundred of them survived, the fourteen years since the Battle of Arkelis had taken its toll on them. Only a handful of squads still had veterans from that battle in their ranks, others were all veterans of later campaigns. Out of these squads only two squads still had a full roster of Arkelis veterans. The Grim Wolves were down to five members, all of them still bearing the Arkelis Honour Star on their chest, a bronze star inlayed with silver depicting the way Arkelis was before the war. That honour was bestowed upon them by Titan Commander Alder, overall commander and leader of the Titan divisions, what remained of them. Commander Alder's squad, The Saint's Templar, was the other squad with seven Arkelis veterans still on the squad's roster.

These were the two squads that were ordered to New Horizon. Commander Alder refused the order, and remained at his post on a refugee space station in the Soras sector. He didn't need supplies, nor did he need new recruits to screw up his operation. The risk in taking his flag ship, the Hammer Break, through the rebellion zones was too high. We could not lose the power it bolstered the fleet with.

Only the Grim wolves returned to New Horizon on their home vessel, the Hyperion. The Hyperion's captain using slip ways through dark sectors to go unnoticed, almost burning out the BEAM drive to reach New Horizon as fast as possible. Captain Locke, squad leader of the Grim Wolves, wanted to waste no time, he wanted to be ready as soon as possible for the next operation.

On New Horizon, the Grim Wolves waited for reinforcement. They waited for what was rumoured to be, if all plans to gather resources failed, the last of the Titans.

# Chapter One  
Trials

" _Agonizing pain was not an apt description of what they experienced during those trials, their bodies were cut apart and glued back together by teams of scientists. It is beyond understanding how their sanity remained intact after everything they were put through. Their screaming never stopped echoing from the corridors of those facilities on New Horizon."  
-Anonymous, Echo Facility, New Horizon_

2586 - 77 ASD (After Subjugation Day)

He was standing underneath a sunless sky, pain was his constant companion. Even here, in his dreams, the agony could reach his senses. The suffering that waited for him back in reality would be much worse than he felt in this dreamscape. Surgery after surgery had forced his mind to retreat as far away from the real world as it could. He wished to dream of his childhood, instead he dreamed of a desert. A desert of dust and silence was all he could see from horizon to horizon. It was a strange sensation to feel the wind, but not hear it. He could hear nothing, not the sand hitting his body, nor the distant storms he saw from time to time. To think, he had volunteered for this.

He had no idea how long he had to wait for that sudden unbearable jolt back into reality, but he already knew today's surgery would be the worst one yet. The masked scientist and doctors were attaching his final interface ports to his spine. He could feel the burning agony as it spread from specific points along his back and neck. Tremors from the pain, bone deep, was affecting his ability to stand. Silly, he thought, back in reality he was strapped to a table of reflective iron. Scores of people laboured over his ravaged body, working with practiced precision to build something deadly.

Build something deadly, he smirked as the thought crossed his mind, his mind made it sound like he was no longer human. But the torment he had suffered reminded him every time how human he really was.

It was taking longer than usual. By his estimates he should have awoken on that cold table a long time ago, screaming as reality reasserted itself over his senses. But he was still trapped here with the ever growing unease he felt to his core. His limbs were heavy and aching, throbbing more and more while he tried to remain upright.

A sudden rise of fluid from his stomach made him fall forward, his aching arms resting his forward motion. Invisible fluid he could not see rushed out of him, it tasted like blood and bile. He could taste and feel it leaking out of him onto the grey sand, but he could not see it. That ignited a small spark of panic, he tried to stand and refocus, but his limbs were lead that anchored him to the dusty ground. The fluid forcing him to splutter and cough, draining what little power he had left. You are still so weak and so pathetic Christian.

His head snapped up, those words, they were not his. Across the desert a figure stood, shifting in and out of focus like smoke dissipating in the wind. The figure had spoken them in his mind, but the voice sounded different. A voice from the past that still haunted him, he had not heard it in a very long time. It was from a memory he had tried to bury many times, yet he never succeeded in doing so.

The figure stood motionless, Christian felt it grinning at him, challenging him to respond. To his surprise it raised a smoky limb and waved at him. Just as he was about to reply to those hateful words in kind the desert changed around him. Bright light flooded his senses, pain lancing through him like impaling spikes driven through his body, it told him that he was waking up in reality. His eyes snapped open, hearing only a deafening scream echo around him. Realization dawned on him, he was the one screaming.

Christian bit down, forcing the scream to stop. He struggled to hold it back, his eyes filled with tears from the effort of fighting the anguish he felt. He focused on the words emblazoned on the ceiling of the room he had woken up in. Courage. Honour. Pride. Those words were always an inspiration to him. A female face appeared between him and the ceiling, dazzling brown eyes stared down at him. He knew her well, her presence succour to his torture.

"Titan, welcome back," she whispered. "We almost lost you this time, be strong, the final step will begin soon."

He could imagine her smile underneath her medical mask. Such beauty was not meant to see men suffer like she had. She touched his arm to signify that she wanted him to be brave, and he responded with a slight nod of understanding. Christian steeled himself against what was to come.

Above him the ceiling opened up with the sound of grinding gears and clattering chains. A new apparatus appeared from the hidden chamber now revealed to him, something he had not seen before. It reminded him of an ancient torture device he had seen in old books, our ancestors of old Earth called it an iron maiden. The thought caused him to stir, his muscles tensed against the straps that held him in place on the cold table. Its rough shape looked human, with thousands of needles pointing inwards, tubes ran from the needles to a giant reservoir tank mounted on the back of the unknown machine that hovered above him.

One of the medical staff lowering the frightening device saw Christian's unease. The man was controlling it with a mobile control panel, fidgeting with buttons and levers constantly. "Not to worry hero, this will make you whole again," the man said with an unnerving level of levity to his voice.

It seemed like he was enjoying this. Christian returned the man's comment with a painful wry smile. Fool, he thought through the agony. He closed his eyes and waited for the torture to begin anew.

"Corporal Quinn," the female with the brown eyes spoke at his side. "This is the Nano Insertion Platform. It sounds very erotic, but I assure you it is not. The NIP is the final stage of your surgery; it will allow us to inject the Liquid Nano Robotics into your muscles and nervous system." She walked to the table that held a plethora of surgical equipment, picking up a syringe full of blue liquid. She carefully tapped the syringe with her petite fingers and returned to his side." After today your body will heal much faster, and the pain should subside within a few days. Please understand Corporal Quinn, this might be the last stage, but it is the most painful."

Christian tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and his throat stinging, only one word escaped his cracking lips before he had to swallow the pain down. "Ready."

"This will make you dream, it will keep you from flat lining again," she said, sticking the needle into his aching neck, whispering her final words close to his ear, "I will find you if you get lost."

He didn't have a chance to respond. The last thing Christian saw before he was back in the never ending world of his dreams was the NIP aligning itself above his prone body. Darkness was replaced by the alien light of the sunless desert. This time, however, the desert was different.

The crew quarters on-board the Hyperion were not ostentatious like those on-board other void fairing vessels, they were simple and functional. Most of the crew rarely used their quarters for more than resting, every other waking hour they spent at their stations, giving mechanical life to dead metals and pipes. Captain Gabriel Locke sat at his tiny desk inside his dark quarters pouring over a map, low light discipline was protocol during resupplying. What little light he had was aimed at the map he had been studying for hours, the files that had accompanied the map piled up around him by the dozens.

A knock at the door dragged him out of his reverie. There was only one person in this galaxy that would ignore his orders so blatantly.

"Enter, Lieutenant," his voice carrying through the metal door of his quarters with ease.

The visitor entered without a word and sat down on the Captain's bunk with too much familiarity. He was clad in his mesh suit, preferring to always be ready for action. Tall, muscular and an ego to match his chiselled facial features. Dark brown hair, cut short, covered his scalp. Locke was taller, but less muscular than his Lieutenant, dark blonde with greying hair at his temples. Captain Locke on the other hand, had an aura of authority around him, like a nobleman from ancient Earth. He was a hard man to say no to, and an even harder man to dislike.

His visitor stared at him, patiently willing him to look up, he wanted to talk.

With a sigh of frustration Locke shifted his eyes from the table in front of him and looked at his second in command. "Yes Nathan? What is on your mind?" he said, leaning back in his uncomfortable chair.

"Why are you not on the surface overseeing the progress of the new recruit?" Nathan asked.

"Why aren't you?"

Nathan just grunted at the idea. He was always the stubborn rebel. An awkward silence settled on both of them.

"Speak your mind Lieutenant, you know I how I feel about keeping your mouth shut when things need to be said."

"It is about this new recruit, sir."

"What about him?"

"I think it's a mistake to accept him into the Wolves, sir."

"Drop the formalities. Speak plainly. It is not about accepting him or denying him, we can't pick and choose which orders to follow. The military, especially the part we belong to, is not a democracy."

Nathan drew a breath. "Gabriel, this recruit is not ready, he will not make the cut, and he will cause problems for us, even get some of us killed."

"You haven't even seen him in action, why the negativity?" Locke reached for a file and pulled it from the pile on his desk. "Have you been reading a different report than mine? His performance is nominal, and his survival rate is higher than both of ours when we went through the trials. He might need some guidance and training in our ways, but we can teach him how to be a Wolf." Locke shifted in his seat, the metal edges of the demon chair already causing his limbs to go numb. He knew Nathan would try and dodge his first question.

"Why would command do this? Why would they take the best squad in the galaxy, make us drag our asses back to the safe zone, and then give us an FNG like him?" Nathan's voice rose slightly with disdain as he pronounced FNG.

"Your personal connection to the situation was noted before the order was given. And I am sure your ego was at the top of their list when they made their decision," Locke answered, giving Nathan a sarcastic grin. "Orders are orders Lieutenant, I get mine and you get yours. Speaking of which, I expect you to be on the surface within the hour. We have only a few days to train the Corporal before we leave."

"Yes sir!" Nathan replied with a mocking tone to his voice.

"You are excused. I have a mission to plan."

There was nothing left to be said, Nathan left the Captain's quarters and closed the door behind him. In the corridor he cursed himself for bringing this up with his superior. Nathan never wanted to show any emotion around others, emotion was a weakness for the sick and dying. He looked down at his hands, flexing them as he rolled his neck and shoulders. That action always made him focus better. With his mind now clearer he turned and stalked down the corridor towards Hyperion's shuttle bays.

Stomach churning, nausea hit him as he landed on the strange sand. It took him a few moments to compose himself and sit up. Her voice echoed in his mind, those beautiful eyes, helping him regain some of his drained focus. New levels of pain sent waves of coldness through him, numbing his entire body from head to toe. He tried to lift his hand and wipe the dust from his face, but a sudden realization made him freeze in place. Sound. There was sound this time, dust buffeted against him and thunder rumbled off in the distance.

"Hello," said a voice from behind him. "We meet again."

If Christian had been wearing pants, he would have needed a new pair. He turned to face the figure, the creature of smoke stood only a few feet away from him. It looked at him with its hollow eyes. No discernable facial features could be seen except the outlines of what mimicked a human smile.

"You have questions and I have the answers. Would you like to play a game before I answer them?" the figure said.

A game, he thought, something about the way it was said reminded him of a memory. "Who or what are you?" Christian asked.

"Oh, introductions are not necessary my friend. You already know exactly who I am. Go on, guessing is the first part of the game." The figure took a step closer as it spoke, leaving no footprints behind it.

"I don't care what game you want to play. Answer me!"

"There! You almost had it, try again kid. I can hear you even if you aren't moving your lips. I can see you grasping for memories behind that grim face of yours." It seemed to hover instead of walk, as if the sand around it was no hindrance to the creature. "We have never spoken before, but we are allies you and I."

"I...can't remember," he whispered, "you are just a dream, just my imagination playing tricks on me because of all the sedatives in my system. I am no ally to something like you."

"You, me, both have no meaning here. In this place individuality does not exist, everything in this dull place is mine and yours, yours and mine." It was even closer now, silently shifting over the sand. "But I am getting far ahead of myself, that question was asked too soon. We are not ready to know that answer yet."

"What? That makes no"

The figure cut Christian off with a wave of its smoky limb. "It would seem that our time is up. Such a pity, we could have had some fun. See you soon, kiddo."

Christian had no time to answer, the pain in his body grew to new levels of agony, and he closed his eyes as he tried to ride out this wave of torment. A new sound was drowning out the sound of the desert, overlapping all of his hearing. He opened his eyes, the pain still substantial. The desert had vanished again, replaced by a dimly lit room of white walls and green curtains. A man was standing by the foot of his bed writing on a clipboard as he scanned Christian's paralyzed body. He was finally out of surgery and he was not strapped down anymore, but still he was unable to move. He could not speak or do anything more than move his eyes, the man knew he could not because he began to speak as soon as their eyes met.

"Ah, awake are we? Very good then," he said. "I'm Engineer Walters. You can address me as Sam Walters, Sam the Engineer or 'Oi, you with the wrench!'." He tapped his tool belt as confirmation. Sam grabbed hold of Christian's big toe and shook it as a greeting. "Nice to meet you," Sam said, wiping his hand on his overhauls, an utterly pointless thing to do considering how dirty he was, "Corporal."

Pain rocked Christian's leg and he bit down a curse, he just watched Sam as he continued to meander on about his job. He still lay there, unable to move, as Sam launched into a detailed account of his final surgery. Sam was odd, tall and thin, like a lost bamboo stalk separated from the rest of his bamboo family. Glass thicker than void windows inserted into what seemed to be old welding goggles covered his eyes. The colour of his eyes just a smudge of green behind the thickness of his ocular device. A grease-smeared face and greying black hair completed Sam's odd outward persona.

Sam looked like just another deck engineer, destined to live in the bowels of a void vessel, forever tinkering and maintaining ship systems. But Christian knew better, the man at the foot of his bed was the Chief Engineer of the Titan Project. A genius, that was the only word to describe him, and now he was attending to Christian personally for some unknown reason.

"Why are you...?" Christian tried to say through his burning throat.

"Why am I here? Oh, I thought you were told. You, Corporal Quinn that is, are the last Titan that will be created during this cycle." Sam took a deep breath before he spoke again. "We are unsure if there will be any more production cycles after this one. You see, our vaults are empty, our resources dry. Only thirteen could be produced during this cycle, which means that there was only enough of everything to create thirteen complete suits and their Operators."

Christian nodded in acknowledgement. Shifting his eyes to the ceiling, there were no words there in this room. The missing words made him anxious.

"During dire times there is always dire news. The Fateful Moment disappeared, with all of our Nano systems and power system in its cargo bays for the next ten cycles, some time ago. Anctinium is in very short supply, enough to maybe produce a few more Titan suits, but without the other systems it would just be an empty husk. All of them worthless without the other pieces of the project puzzle."

"When will I be able to move?" Christian's throat was on fire with every word he spoke. Water, he needed water.

Sam somehow sensed it. He walked over to the table beside the immobile future Titan's bed, producing a cold water pitcher from the cupboard bellow the table.

Christian just swallowed at the sight of the cold fluid inside the pitcher. His body responded and he instinctively licked his dry lips.

Sam poured the mesmerizing liquid into a container that looked like a child's drinking cup with twirled straw. He placed the twirled straw between Christian's lips. "This cup belonged to the daughter of the previous occupant of this room, the young lady never made it past the first surgery. Her heart too weak to handle the trauma caused to her body," his voice trailed off as a memory resurfaced. "I watched her succumb to her wounds. Give me a bleeding and broken machine and I will fix it without hesitation, but show me a human in pain and I cry like a little girl."

The cold liquid was nectar from ancient gods, never had machine filtered water taste so good. Usually it tasted like burnt coffee and underpants, but now it was up there with the finest and most delicate wines he had sampled during his younger years.

Even though he was just twenty-nine, he still felt like he had wasted most of his life on meaningless things. The decision to volunteer for the Titan Project was one he had to make, his brother the inspiration, and his own feeling of unworthiness fuelled the courage to go through with it. Wherever his brother was now, he hoped he could make him proud again. He hoped he could prove that he was not just a spoiled brat from a disjointed family. All he wanted was his brother's approval, just to hear words of encouragement once. His first objective of the mission to become a Titan was complete. He was broken, in almost unbearable agony, but he had survived. And now he was with Chief Engineer Walters, he needed to get on with the next objective.

All of these thoughts raced through his head as he sipped the life-saving liquid with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and spoke with growing strength as Sam removed the cup's straw from his lips. "What's next?"

Sam nodded and lifted his dirty clipboard again. "So eager, let's see here." He scanned through a list of names. "Oh, well that's not very nice," he looked up and directly at Christian. "It would seem that you are the punch line of some cosmic joke. Your Operator number is QC0021-13. You have been assigned to suit...thirteen." Sam paused before speaking again. "Well, if you are killed during your first mission you will know why at least."

Christian let out a slight chuckle at the last remark. "How long?" he asked.

"In about two days your body will have recovered from the surgery. Wonderful little things these Nanites you now have flowing through your system. They can rebuild your tissue and muscles within hours, even help you recover from fatal wounds - should you not be dead by the time they start that is."

"Only two days?"

"Don't get too excited just yet cupcake...err I mean Corporal." He gave Christian a sly grin before continuing. "Please mind my manners, I am use to speaking to machines and ship parts most of the time, and always in curse words."

Christian's voice was almost back to normal now, and he could feel the pain subsiding in his hands and feet. "What then?" he asked.

"Then you will go through Syncro training with your suit and then, well then, uhm..." Sam looked uncomfortable as he went quiet. His eyes darted back and forth from Christian's prone body to the doorway. He hoped someone would enter the room and save him from an explanation.

"What is it, Sam?"

"Well, after all of that you need to train in the Labyrinth," he said.

"Sound ominous," Christian tilted his head up as he spoke, his joints not aching as much anymore. "Should I be scared?"

Sam cleared his throat and avoided answering the question. "Uh yes, when you are able to walk again please report to Beta Facility for outfitting. From there Syncro training can begin."

"Great. Do they have my measurements? I have a deceptively small waist."

Sam just sniggered and plodded out of the dull room, leaving him with his diminishing pain and his last few hours of peace and quiet.

# Chapter One.One  
Outfitting

" _It made me feel immortal, impossibly strong. But that feeling vanished as soon as you met your first monster."  
-Operator Smith, Vigilance Squad, KIA_

Beta Facility looked like any other building on the Titan Project's compound. There was nothing peculiar about it, from the outside it could have been mistaken for just another habitation block. But that was the masterful deception created by the engineers that designed it. Behind the steel and concrete walls the most advanced, and most deadly, training facility in the galaxy could be found. Deep below the facility level after level of fire ranges and training grounds were built. Dozens of equipment, armouries and control rooms were hidden from prying eyes, all of them housing crews of engineers manufacturing weapons and experimenting with new systems. Beta Facility looked different than Echo Facility, sanitary green and white walls were replaced with bare metal and concrete.

It is in one of these small rooms that Christian found himself. He had entered the room through a keypad locked door, the code and instructions given to him when he was released from Echo Facility. On the opposite wall from the door was a giant mirror, or what was made to look like one, staring back at him. He noticed the gaunt features of his reflection, but he knew the weakness was only temporary as his body healed from the surgeries. The Nano machines had done their job, he was able to move and sit up only hours after Sam had left. His strength returning to levels he never thought possible, he could feel new power and vitality coursing through his veins. The pain from the last few months only a feint shadow in the back of his mind. The walls on either side of the room were bare metal, with thin vertical and horizontal gaps everywhere, criss-crossing each other. The walls looked like a complicated puzzle, pieces overlapping without a clear discernable pattern.

Christian reached out to run his hand over the wall and one of the closest gaps.

"Don't touch that," a male voice said from a hidden source. "We need to calibrate it before we can begin."

"Calibrate what?" Christian asked, walking back to the centre of the room to face the mirror.

"Operator, please be silent." Light sources were turned on behind the walls as light spilled out through the gaps. Beneath Christian's feet a round bright light spot lit up. "Step onto the light, Operator."

Without hesitation he stepped onto the light. As soon as he did a bright-blue radiance swept over him from a hidden recess above the mirror. He was now sure there were people behind the mirror. The light scanned him from head to toe a few times before shutting off and vanishing back into the wall.

"Please do not move Operator. The system will calibrate now, move and you might get torn apart by it." The voice clicked off, more voices could be heard in the background before the voice was cut off.

A drone started building in the room, slowly rising to an approaching crescendo. The gaps in the walls parted and shifted all around him, revealing more light and unmoving mechanical arms behind the wall panels. Panels started to fold away, parting in places to allow the mechanical arms to extend and rotate outward. He counted at least ten mechanical arms he could see in the mirror. He was so focused on the arms whirring and clicking that he almost didn't notice the floor fall away, only the platform of light he was standing on was still there. Beneath him more mechanical arms freed themselves; these looked different. The ones from the walls were all equipped with articulating mechanical hands, flexing fingers as they rotated. The arms from the floor had what seemed to be various implements instead of hands, ranging from welders to rotating blades.

"Calibration complete," the voice confirmed as every mechanical arm froze in place and took up positions surrounding Christian.

"Ready, Operator?"

"Ready," he said with conviction.

"Do we have to watch this?"

"If we want to see our new squad member in action, then yes, we do have to." Locke leaned forward to manipulate the display on the wall.

All of the Grim Wolves had gathered in one of the many observation rooms located within Beta Facility. It looked more like an interrogation room than anything else. Furnished by a wobbly table and a few prison chairs. A large monitor was mounted on one of the walls, cycling through different views of an Operator being manhandled by an army of robotic arms. Individually clad in their remarkable and freshly-painted suits, watching the monitor with detached interest. They had come directly from training drills run in the upper levels, ordered by Locke to report to the observation room to evaluate their new recruit.

"I still don't see why we have to watch this," Nathan complained again. "I could be killing things instead of procrastinating here."

Nathan was always on edge, as if he expected an enemy to burst into the room at any moment. Locke silently thanked himself during every mission for the situational awareness his second possessed.

"Complain some more mate, won't change a thing. Captain might give you latrine duty if you keep moaning like an old woman," the Titan leaning against the doorframe said. Sergeant Rivers' ancestral drawl always made him sound angry, but he was probably the most cheerful person in the entire galaxy. His two best attributes being his ability to crack a sarcastic comment or one liner at the right moment, and his skill as a combat field engineer,

Another Titan seated behind Locke shifted in his seat as he laughed. "Wait until you see what I left in the latrines for you before we left, Hyperion's protein based sludge goes right through me," he said, tapping Nathan on the shoulder. "You might need to keep your suit on for that one." Xander was always quick to join in on Rivers' jokes, even if it was funny or not. His entire suit festooned with belts of rattling explosives, never going anywhere without things that go boom.

"Keep it up," Nathan said as he turned around to face the last Titan seated against the back wall, nodding at him. "Pyoter is with me on this one."

"Nyet. Not this time Lieutenant." Pyoter's eastern wing of old Earth's descent clear with every word he spoke. He was the biggest Titan in the entire division, standing almost seven feet tall without his armour. It was an obvious choice to let him handle the squads heavy weapons, his giant frame able to lift and carry almost everything the military had available.

Locke finished fiddling with the display and crossed his arms as he watched the proceedings. "Quiet! Do you see that?" he asked, pointing at the display.

He was smiling. With every piece of equipment the mechanical arms attached to his body his strength grew. His limbs were covered first; mesh suit pieces slid into place over his limbs and then his chest and lower body. The suit pieces were fit to his form and soldered together with Anctinium interlocking hinges. These hinges formed the joints of the protective mesh suit. When the arms retracted only a few minutes had passed, he was now almost completely covered by the Titan suit's under layer. Only his face and the interface plugs in his limbs and spine were visible.

The Anctinium had an alien black tint, almost matte save for the light consuming texture it possessed. It looked like raw carbon, but was as smooth as polished silver. It was a strange combination when touched or seen, yet it was diamond hard and a hundred times rarer than those precious stones.

Christian had only a few moments to comprehend the strange suit he was now covered in before the next phase of outfitting started.

"Operator, the outer layer of your suit will now be attached, we urge you to remain still," the voice said from behind the mirror. "The Anctinium pieces are bare for now; your leader will instruct you on squad designation and markings once you have completed your trials."

Christian nodded and closed his eyes, still smiling as the robotic army of arms resumed their mindless work. Arms with attached hands produced pieces of armour plating, silently placing them on his limbs and front, leaving his back open, each piece matching small slots located in the under layer. Each piece connecting to the exposed interface ports with a muffled click. The other arms, with their assortment of tools, went to work attaching every piece. Cutting and bonding the two layers together.

He was tilted forward, face down hovering over the machines that controlled the mechanical arms. From the roof his back plate was lowered down, attached to it was a multitude of cables and tubes. The back plate contained the most vital, and the most dangerous, piece of equipment a Titan took into battle.

Mounted behind the thickest Anctinium plating, within the back plate, was a miniature nuclear-plasma reactor able to power a suit for years without needing a recharge. The power of a sun as big as a human fist strapped to the back of every Titan. If it was ever breached the resulting reaction from the breach would cause a devastating eruption able to level entire cities. It was no surprise to anyone that these volatile power sources were kept under lock and key deep within Beta Facility, away from any unauthorized personnel not assigned to handle one of them.

Christian felt the back plate sliding into place, it locked itself to the interface ports in his back, hissing as it expended trapped air between itself and the under layer. Every part of his under layer was covered by armour plating all the way up to his neck. The outer armour moved with the under layer, fully articulated making it feel like he was wearing a second skin. He was lowered to the light spot he had stood in earlier.

"Phase two is done, please test all movement angles before your helmet is assigned and your suit systems brought online." The voice left the channel open after it spoke, obviously waiting for Christian to comply, the background noise now nothing more than a murmur of machines and voices.

Christian bounced on each leg a few times, rolling his shoulders before he extended his arms at his sides. He flexed his muscles and the suit responded to every movement he made. He noticed how light the suit was, almost as if it was made out of feathers instead of some prized metal. The thought never crossed his mind that it was not the metal that was light, but instead his strength had grown far beyond any normal human's capabilities. He lowered his hands after staring at them for a few seconds and focused on the mirror again.

A pedestal rose from the open floor, mounted on top of it was his helmet, unpainted and bare metal but still fearsome in its appearance. Its visor, the same mirrored finish as the one in the room he was in, the helmet's base was formed from one solid piece of Anctinium. The half-face visor edged backwards at the sides to allow for a greater degree of visibility. The mouth, cheek and chin pieces protruding slightly outward to give it a more angular appearance. A thin Anctinium sun shield attached above the visor sloped down at the sides to protect an Operator's peripheral vision. Detachable ear pieces completed the angular but simplistic look of the helmet. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective. It could stop a high calibre bullet at close range and still function, and most importantly keep the Operator alive. At the back of the helmet was a rounded but angular-edged plate, fitted from behind and attached to the sun shield and ear pieces. It covered the entire brain area of an Operator with an extra layer of protection.

He picked up the helmet without hesitation and slid it over his head, a rotating seal bonded with the mesh under layer with a click and a hiss of escaping air.

It was dark inside the helmet, silent and strangely calming. He raised his hand and gave the hidden people behind the mirror a thumbs-up.

A burst of crackling static filled Christian's ears in the darkness of the helmet, his ears ringing from the sudden sound.

"Suit systems are coming online. Acknowledged?" a female voice said in his ears.

"Acknowledged," he replied. "I hear you."

"Visor display online Operator. Please confirm visual systems are functioning."

His visor became transparent and vital suit information scrolled past his eyes. "Visuals confirmed. Suit diagnostics are booting up."

"Suit OS reports zero errors. Vision mode voice command cycling will start in five seconds."

Christian patiently counted down the seconds. His suit finished scrolling through the diagnostic program. It now waited for his voice commands. "Dark sight," he said as his visor changed blue-green, easily illuminating darker areas in the room. "Reap sight." His visor switched colours again, a stark red hue the colour of a sunrise made his eyes tear up. Reticules scanned everything in the room, searching for targets to highlight. "Tactical sight." His visor went clear, this mode was the standard mode used during missions. More reticules appeared and scanned every piece of equipment in the room; detailed information about every piece of machine could be requested with a voice command and displayed in the corners of his visor. Tactical sight could connect to other suits in a squad and display their vital signs, vision feeds and more.

"Very good Operator, the last vision mode can't be tested here. Please test it during the final phase," the female voice said in his ears again.

Christian wanted to reply but the link went dead before he could, the mirrored wall in front of him rumbled and disengaged itself from the connecting walls. It moved up and out of view, he followed it before his eyes settled on what was ahead of him. The ground beneath him moved and linked up, forming a bridge of light for him to walk on. There was no going back now, he could only go forward. The gap left by the mirrored control room was filled by walls from both sides. The roof and ground pieces were the last to grind into place. He faced a long corridor with a door leading to his final trial, his tactical vision mode scanned the door and revealed it to be unlocked and made out of solid steel.

He stepped forward, walking at a slow pace towards the door. It felt strange to walk, he felt so powerful, so immortal. Careful, he thought, don't get arrogant.

Step after step he took, his mind wandering as he headed for the door. The final trail to come was to be his ultimate test. He had come too far to fail on this final step. He could not afford to stumble now. Everything he had suffered through and everything he had done to get here, he was determined to succeed. He silently hoped he was watching.

Christian finally reached the door, taking a deep breath as he turned the handle to open it.

Now or never, he thought, stepping into a new room.

# Chapter One.Two  
Labyrinth

" _The Titans called it the Labyrinth. Only they could enter, and only they could come out alive on the other side. Rumours about the creator being a madman was common in the halls and corridors of Beta Facility. His creation was a merciless gauntlet of ever-shifting walls and traps with the sole purpose of pushing every Titan to its very limit. It succeeded in every possible way."  
-Anonymous, Beta Facility, New Horizon_

The room was shrouded in darkness, a darkness the tactical vision could not penetrate. As soon as he had entered the room he heard the door lock behind him, there was definitely no going back now. He still had to get accustomed to the ease of movement he felt inside his new suit. Some steps were unreal at first, the feeling of detachment ever present, as if he was controlling a robotic version of himself.

He spoke the words to activate his dark sight, bathing the entire room in a blue-green hue. Shadows retreated back from him, leaving no hiding spots behind. His new mode revealed a flat slab of concrete in the middle of the room and another door across from him. On top of the slab were three items, items he recognized from training manuals and stories told by veteran soldiers during his basic training. Items specifically designed for the Titan Project.

The first item was an automatic rifle, a short stock and short barrel variant based on old Earth's Bullpup design. It was only a little longer than his lower arm. Its official designation was the BM-40 but Operators referred to it as the Kicker, possibly due to the fact that its recoil on full auto kicked like a Morkhal - New Horizon's equivalent to Earth's horse. There were no attachments on this one, no Nova grenade cannon, not even an aiming modification of any kind. Christian lifted the rifle, checked its magazine and shouldered it to look through the stock iron sights. He was surprised to find it easy to aim down the sights. He had thought the bulky helmet would require an Operator to compensate for the offset, but instead the helmet, shoulder, chest and arm plating made the rifle fit perfectly for maximum accuracy. He moved the rifle over his left shoulder and it automatically clipped itself via magnetic clamps to the left side of his back plate. His hand on the grip would automatically release the rifle should it be needed. Four extra magazines were supplied, clipping them to his magnetized belt plating as he picked up the next item.

Next to the rifle was his combat blade, a basic weapon only used when there were no more bullets or the Beast wanted to get up close and personal. Melee specialized Titans carried better versions with broader and longer blades. The basic version was as long as his thigh, and made from an amalgamation of metals to increase durability and maintain its razor-sharp edge. Two horizontal clamps in the small of his back accepted the weapon with another click, its mechanism the same as the one housing the rifle.

The final item's outer layer was made from Anctinium, its inner layer from a glassy crystal substance, in the middle a rotating mechanism with a hand grip at the end moved as he tilted it. The small clips on the outside plating of his forearms matched the accepting clips inside the mechanism. It was oval-shaped like an ancient shield with the longer sides edged flat. Nearly the size of his torso, this was the only thing between him and certain death should he ever be put on the back foot. It also added extra protection to his precious back plate and all of its attachments. He tested it by clipping it to his arm and holding it as it should be used in combat. The Anvil shield made him feel safe, able to stop a rushing horde of enemies in its tracks. He nodded to himself; it was his favourite out of the three items. It played more to his defensive nature, rather than wading in balls first like a fool. He unclipped it from his arm and held it over his right shoulder. A small magnetic arm detached itself from the middle of the back plate to secure it. It fit over his weapons without a problem.

Just as he felt the shield lock into place a voice spoke to him over the radio in his ear pieces.

"The shield is my favourite as well, that one is special, one of a kind," Sam said, it sounded like he was eating something.

Another crunching sound filled Christian's ears. The sound of Sam's devouring started to grate on his nerves.

"A few things to know about what's through the last door Corporal Quinn. First, be on your guard at all times," Sam said through a mouthful of what sounded like gravel being crushed underfoot. "Second, there are live enemies on the other side, from here on out you are weapons free, shoot to kill or be killed."

Christian knew the weapons were for something, but he had no idea there were live targets inside. "What is the classification of the enemies in there?"

"Beast, Mutated human variants of different shapes and sizes. Nothing you can't handle." Sam went silent. "Hopefully," he added after a few moments.

"Your faith fills me with rainbows and moonbeams, Sam."

"Of course it does. What else would it fill you with?"

Christian decided to recheck his weapons just in case. He unsheathed his blade, checking its edge before sliding it back into waiting clamps. He unclipped his Kicker and checked the sight again, checking if each extra clip was magnetically locked to his belt as he replaced the rifle over his shoulder. He didn't need to check his shield, Sam's comment made him confident that it would work as intended, perhaps better than intended.

Christian flexed his hands and balled them into fist. "Ready. Open it," he said to Sam over the radio.

A different voice answered him. "Corporal Quinn. Your task is simple, find the exit and don't die while doing it."

"Who is this?" Christian enquired.

"Captain Locke, Operator."

"Sir, I...It's an honour." Christian was shocked. The leader of the Wolves was here watching his trials.

"Brown nosing will only work if you survive this day. You have twenty-four hours to complete your final trial. If you take longer, we will presume you are dead and send in the cleaners."

"Yes sir! No dying. Roger that."

"Good luck. Your twenty-four hours," Captain Locke paused and Christian could hear the distinctive beeps of a clock being set and started, "starts now."

A red timer appeared in the top left of his visor display. It started counting down the moment the door on the other side of the concrete slab unlocked and opened. On the other side a dimly lit corridor waited.

Christian vaulted over the slab that had held his weapons, landing and sprinting for the open portal to his final trial in one fluid motion. He needed to be fast. He had something to prove to someone.

"Tactical mode," Christian said, the door closing behind him as he slid to a halt, scanning his surroundings as he went down on one knee. "Intel," he waited before continuing, "Labyrinth." Detailed information on the gauntlet he was about to face scrolled down his visor. His internal suit system responding to his voice commands as he searched for a specific entry. Ammo cache locations were immediately highlighted on his map. There was a footnote regarding the caches hidden throughout the death-trap.

There is a fifty-fifty chance that marked ammo caches have moved or have been destroyed. Resupply not guaranteed, it read.

He tried not to think on it as the entry he was waiting for scrolled past his vision. He didn't drop his guard for a second, still scanning the low-light corridor that stretched out in front of him.

"Activate suit OS vocals. Load entry, Labyrinth-Beast."

His suit spoke with a robotic voice, playing the entry he had chosen. "Labyrinth, Beast, classified as hostile and dangerous. Captured enemy combatants are low to medium threat level. Suit systems will protect against ninety percent of damage from enemy combatants. Hostiles classified as human or similar size before infection, and are able to pierce inner layer of the Titan suit with enough force."

This made Christian reach for his rifle. He wrenched on the slide and shouldered the weapon, it was better to be prepared rather than be surprised.

The suit OS continued. "There are a minimum of ten enemies located in the Labyrinth, starving and aggressive, approach with caution. The best course of action is to put them down before they come within melee range. Hostiles are agile and rely on stealth to ambush targets. All enemy classifications track their prey with heightened senses of smell and hearing.

Be fast, but be quiet, he thought.

"Deactivate vocals. Close entry," he said, there was no point in listening to more. It was dangerous enough already, he did not need to make things psychologically worse for himself.

He moved forward at a slow pace, checking the shadowed ceiling with every step. The corridor started to open up, becoming wider as he progressed down it. The floor was covered in a fine, grey powder. He crouched down and picked up a handful of it, its texture would ensure quiet movement, at least for now.

"Dark sight," he said. His vision changed instantly to blue-green. Shadows disappeared and revealed door-less rooms on either side of the ever widening corridor. He immediately dropped the handful of grey powder and levelled his rifle in the direction of the first one. "Remember to check your corners," he mumbled to himself.

Christian felt a strange wave of cold wash over his entire body, he almost panicked thinking it was fear or something even worse. A few moments later he realized it was his suit's cooling system compensating for his sudden rise of adrenalin. The cooling systems were actively trying to stop him from sweating. It felt especially strange in his groin, breezy yet pressurized. He felt slightly ashamed of liking it even a little - this was not the place for such things.

He shook his head to clear his mind just as he reached the first darkened room to his right. Christian put his back to the wall on the opposite side of the door frame. It was empty from what he could see of the room, with no sound emanating from within.

"Reap sight," he said as he moved to enter the room, he needed to be sure that there was nothing there.

In the void above New Horizon hung a colossal capital ship, its black armoured hull reflecting the stars to whoever set their eyes upon it. It was the size of a small city, with thousands of weapon batteries pockmarking the giant vessel. One of only three such ships still in active duty, its starboard side was decorated with gold lettering, naming the vessel that brought more than just fear with it. Wherever it went, death followed. The Stygian Council was more than just a killer; it was capable of destroying anything it encountered, a murderer of ships, and a reaper of planets. It had enough firepower to pound cities to dust from orbit, in the age before the war its fusion cannons could decimate planets, but luckily the weapon was empty, the ammunition for such a terrible weapon was lost forever behind enemy lines or liberated by rogue parties and secreted away from the rest of the star kingdom.

It was out of place above New Horizon, the ship's orders were to protect Earth's solar system, and there was no reason for it to be in the planet's orbit. The Stygian Council had arrived without notice, drifting into place next to the Hyperion. The only transmission it had sent was an acknowledgement to the captain aboard the Hyperion, and had remained silent ever since.

The myths and rumours connected to the vessel had the sector's defence forces on edge. It was not only the unexpected and silent arrival that was unsettling, but the man that commanded the vessel was the main cause of everyone's concern. No-one dared hailing the vessel after its arrival, its commander was known for a short temper and a sadistic tactical mind. The man that commanded the Stygian Council had no interest in risking vital equipment in the dead zones, and he had even less interest in saving humans trapped by the enemy. All of them were potential hostiles, and he would rather kill everything in his path to keep Earth safe from the Beast than waste time on a hopeless cause. Kill a planet and leave nothing alive to fight back later.

Born on Earth and raised as a nobleman from an ancient royal family. His lineage gave him free reign to do has he saw fit, he was a man without a superior or equal, and he knew it. He commanded more than just his prized vessel. Thousands of elite soldiers lived in the belly of his capital ship, soldiers that were ready to act on his every command, soldiers that never asked questions, the only kind of good soldier - those that just followed orders.

This very man sat on a throne of gold and velvet on the bridge of his giant vessel, watching a screen in front of him with increased interest. He sat with his sharp chin resting on his interlocked hands, dark eyes darting left and right as he listened intently to the figure moving and talking to itself on the screen. His jet-black hair slicked back by what looked like engine oil or saliva. He was not an attractive man, his face spoke of arrogance and intelligence.

On the screen the figure braced its back against a wall, rifle in hand while scanning a dark room with practiced precision. The man was never a supporter of the Titan Project. It was a waste of resources and man power. Things that were in short supply in the galaxy were used to make these avatars of hope. Pointless wasting of precious commodities he could put to better use. His lips curled into a smile as he thought about the report he had read earlier. It filled him with silent glee that this could be last of these expensive armoured experiments. They would not squander any more of his wealth in pursuit of a futile goal.

He pressed a gold-ringed finger to a button in his throne's armrest. "Find Gabrielle Locke," he never took his eyes off the screen as he spoke, "I wish to speak with him."

The person on the other receiving end of the message had only a second or two to respond. "It will be done, my Lord Vincent."

The first few rooms were empty, nothing but a few loose ceiling boards and damp spots spreading on the floors. All of them made Christian think of abandoned habitation blocks he saw as a child on his home planet. Here and there he could hear the drip-drip of a burst pipe leaking fluid inside the walls. By the fifth room his guard started easing up slightly, there was nothing here, just empty rooms and no threats.

A sudden sound made Christian jerk his rifle to the door he had just entered from, it was close, almost outside of the room to the right. It had sounded like metal scraping against organic material, as if a knife was being dragged out of a human corpse. His suit systems boosted his hearing beyond normal human levels. Prey sight also highlighted the sound with a sonic pulse across his vision, determining the source of the sound with high accuracy.

He froze as the sound repeated, closer this time. It was moving towards him, the third repeat of the sound confirmed that it was just outside of the room. Christian was aware that he was trapped inside the room, he remained absolutely still as the sound repeated again, this time almost above him.

There, he had heard breathing, the distinct sound of lungs drawing breath. He knew what was coming before it happened.

Christian acted without thinking, his muscles tensing and releasing as he started to move. He had guessed that the walls were not too thick, he was correct. He lowered his right shoulder and broke through the wall in front of him with ease, like a thrown rock parting tissue paper. The moment he broke through his stealthy enemy burst from the ceiling, splintering boards and pipes on its way out. Christian lowered his shoulder further into a dive, rolling forward over his shoulders. The force of the roll helped him to avoid the worst of the ceiling collapse. He had rolled back onto his feet by the time his foe landed, bringing his rifle up to face the hole in the wall.

The mutated ex-human looked at him from the hole in the wall, growling at him like a hungry predator, its skin was almost completely gone or torn where mutated muscles had burst through. Its eyes had shifted to the sides of its face, its nose now a blood covered snout. It limbs were elongated, each one ending in claws that were once hands and feet. The creature should not have existed in reality, but it was real, and it was watching its new prey.

Whatever human it had been before infection was all but gone now, all that was left was a feral nightmare, aching to feed on Christian's flesh.

Christian pulled the trigger of his rifle, controlling the recoil as the Kicker's full automatic mode spat bullets in the direction of the monster. To a normal human the sound emitted by the Kicker would have been deafening in such small room, but Christian didn't notice it at all, his focus remained on the target.

The Beast acted faster than he had expected, stepping out of view with blinding speed, only a few rounds had hit home, not enough to kill or incapacitate it. It moved out of the room it had fallen into and came at Christian from a new angle, rushing through the door of the room he was firing from. Its steps were lightning fast, soaking up the hail of bullets in its oversized muscles. Christian kept firing, the monster finally staggered back as his clip ran dry. He had only a few moments to reload his rifle before his foe would renew its attack.

Before he could reach for the new clip, a second foe pounced on him from the hole in the wall. The first monster's assault was a decoy, masking the presence of the second and probably more deadly foe. It was smaller in size and stocky with more teeth than a chainsaw. The new threat had no sharpened claws at the end of its limbs. Instead, it had club-like mutated growths that could bash him to a bloody pulp. It moved just as fast as the first monster; Christian had just enough time to draw his blade before the second monster steam-rolled into him. He was hit by a force that would cripple any normal human, swinging the blade with his left hand while being lifted from his feet, his rifle gripped tightly in his right hand. He could not afford to lose his weapon now. The blade bit into the shoulder of the monster as both of them broke through the wall behind Christian with a titanic crack. The nightmare duo's plan was clear - the fat one would render Christian immobile, giving the gangly one time to finish him off.

Christian, however, was trained and fully prepared for such an attack.

"I'm going," Nathan's voice rising as his anger grew, "let go of me."

Locke held on to Nathan's shoulders, interjecting himself between the angry Titan and the door, casting a glance over his shoulder to Pyoter who was blocking the observation room's doorway. Pyoter's size blocked almost the entire doorway, his bulk better than any flimsy iron door.

"Stand down Lieutenant. This is not your fight." Locke had to hold on tight, Nathan was stronger than he looked, much stronger.

"Captain, give me the order, let me go, this has never happened before."

Nathan's face was hidden behind his helmet and mirrored visor, hiding his expression of anger and concern, but Locke knew his second would be difficult to reason with, this had to end now.

"If you can get past Pyoter, you are free to do go."

Nathan looked towards his captain and gave Pyoter a nod. The nod was something he did regularly, instead of having to speak to anyone.

"No," the giant said. "You stay, we watch."

"He is right Lieutenant. We all have to go through this in our own way. Stow your personal feelings before this goes too far." Locke let go of Nathan's shoulders. "Have faith in him."

"I don't think I can, I lost that ability long ago." Nathan said nothing for a moment. "Whatever." he added with a grunt of surrender.

The other Titans, Rivers and Xander, watched in silence, there was no point in interfering with Nathan's outburst, the captain had dealt with it swiftly enough. They were, however, ready to jump on his back if he forced his way past Pyoter, an impossible task in any case.

Locke looked back at Pyoter as Nathan reluctantly took his seat again.

The giant just shrugged in bewilderment, an awkward sight to behold from a fully armoured Titan, Pyoter's size making it seem even more awkward.

A voice on the edge of panic broke the silence in Locke's earpiece. "Captain, you have an incoming transmission from...." The voice trailed off, the person speaking sounded very nervous

"Buck up soldier. A transmission from...? Let me hear it?

The radio operator on the other end swallowed hard. "It's from the Stygian Council, sir."

"Oh. Shit." was all Locke could say.

The force of the blow from the fat monster had broken the wall and hurled both of them deep into the adjoining room. Christian would not be able to regain his footing when they landed because they were almost vertical as they approached the powdery floor.

He knew what he had to do as soon as they hit the ground. The moments seemed to stretch for an eternity before they met the floor. The bone-crushing impact did not surprise Christian, his suit had compensated for the coming impact while in mid-air. The sudden lurch of gravity reasserting itself over their bodies gave him the opportunity to break free from the deadly embrace.

The monsters had no idea of knowing that the Anvil shield on the Titan's back had more than just the one obvious ability of stopping things. With a word from the Operator the arm mechanism holding the shield in place sprung loose with a shocking blast, causing the entwined pair to bounce like a skipping stone on a quiet pond. The stocky enemy had no grip on the Titan, its club-like limbs unable to hold on with any real strength. The force of the initial connection had made them stick together, but Christian was in no way trapped and the shield manoeuvre had forced them to separate.

He used the separation to bring his knees up and kick the monster in the chest. His armoured boots connected with the beast with a sickening sound, caving in its ribcage with ease. The double kick was enough to fling the fat one backwards, crunching into the gangly one that poured into the room through the new cavity in the wall.

He watched the two scrambling to stand. He had rolled back from the kick, skidding to a halt on all fours. The fat monster was breathing hard, no doubt having punctured lungs from pieces of ribcage wrenched through his vital organs. It struggled to rise, trapping the other beneath it.

He wasted no time. He got to his feet and moved to the mound of squirming mutated flesh. He yanked his blade free from the shoulder of the larger beast with his left hand and plunged it through the forehead of the fat nightmare, it stopped breathing almost instantly. Pulling the blade free of his first kill's skull he stepped on top of it and brought the heel of his right foot down on the head of the other one. Its head cracked under the sudden pressure, squeezing its brain matter through the cracks of it misshapen skull.

Both were dead silent now, leaking their life blood into the ground of the Labyrinth.

Christian was silently proud that he still held onto his rifle, never letting go of it during the clash.

He finally reloaded his rifle and left the room. There was no reason to be quiet anymore; whatever was left in the Labyrinth would have heard the struggle. He picked up the pace, jogging with his rifle shouldered, ready to mow down anything else he encountered.

At the end of the corridor a bright light highlighted the edges of the wall splitting, revealing a hidden doorway to the next section of the Labyrinth.

Christian ran through it without hesitation.

The new section of the maze was a giant hall, with round pillars protruding from the ground. The pillars did not reach all the way up to the ceiling of the hall. They varied in height forming what looked like platforms to areas above him. Every pillar was big enough for an armoured troop carrier to perch on, with only a few feet space between every pillar. It hampered Christian's ability to see the side walls of the titanic hall. He noticed that the floor had changed, it was bare stone, matching the colour of the brown pillars everywhere. If he didn't know better, this could have been the inside of an Egyptian pyramid brought to New Horizon for the sole purpose of confusing Operators.

There was a grinding sound and a rumble from under his feet, a mechanism of some kind had come to life somewhere far below him. In the distance the floor split and fell away, like express elevators falling away from view. Christian acted by jumping on the lowest pillar nearby, he had decided to jump just in time, the floor he was standing on fell away moments later. Looking down he could not see the bottom of the hall, darkness consumed the depths below him, a gloom not even his dark sight could penetrate. The pillars started shaking, slowly they started to move. He stood, shocked at what he was seeing, the creator of this place was indeed a genius.

The movement of the pillars formed a spectacular, yet intricate, sight. They moved and shifted, never colliding to create a challenging task to any Operator. As he watched the pillars moved around one another, patterns emerging as he watched, simple at first but the constant shifting concealed the end of every pattern. It was obvious he had to climb to reach something or somewhere.

Balance and speed would be the key to getting through this. It would waste time if he was trapped on one of the pillars moving on the outside of the pattern. Luckily, Christian was never afraid of heights.

He took a good run up and leaped to the next pillar that was only slightly higher than the previous one. He landed firmly, still clutching his Kicker in his hands, scanning the edges of the pillars above and below him. The shifting of the hall warped one's perception, blurring it at the edges of one's vision, it was almost sickening to be on the pillars as they moved smoothly by some invisible guiding hand.

Up he went, jumping on pillars, going ever higher.

Christian had to lock the rifle into place over his shoulder after the first few pillars, the distance and height difference between platforms was growing. He would need both hands to help him climb. His reap sight was silent, no enemies could be detected, no movement or sound except for the stone pillars dancing around him.

He should have known better by now, the calm before the storm was always the most deceptive. He leaped and barely made the edge of the next platform on his climb upwards. Christian regained his balance and looked back at his jump point; movement to his left caught his eye. It was just a blur between two pillars, something fast, very fast. His rifle would be useless here, the shifting would break his line of sight and the pillars would ensure another close quarter fight with whatever was in the hall with him.

He caught sight of a second blur between more of the pillars shifting, then a third, a forth, and a fifth. This meant big trouble, if these were anything like the previous encounter, his odds would not be good.

At the exact moment he was calculating his odds when one of the blurs jumped on a platform below him. It was smaller than the nightmare duo in the first section, its skin glistening from what looked like mucus, half the size of a human but similarly shaped. The creature had extra limbs extending from its back and sides, each of which ended in a sharp spike. It was sniffing like an animal around it. Christian could see the lack of eyes on closer inspection. He kept still, watching the horror smell the air for traces of prey. His reap sight revealed something terrible and horrifying about the monster. Its age shocked Christian to his very core. It was classified as twelve years old, a human child transformed into something barely resembling its previous form. The Beast had no discrimination when it came to what or who it infected.

Four more misshapen and smaller creatures joined the first on its platform, barking and snarling like rabid dogs at one another. They had the same basic mutations with the only variation being extra limbs with pincers instead of spikes on the ends. They acted as a pack, waiting for the biggest one to act first.

It did move, Christian's reap sight zoomed in on the movement. The largest of the five stopped sniffing and looked in his direction. Its slimy lips parting to reveal a swollen purple tongue, licking its lips as the others turned to face him as well.

They stood there, just watching him, waiting for him to move; they wanted to play, to hunt him and enjoy it.

Christian drew his blade and the Anvil shield from his back, and vowed to not give them the pleasure of feasting on him too easily.

He turned his back on them and sprinted for the furthest edge, diving for the next platform. He had to separate them somehow.

"Mister Locke." The voice stank of arrogance.

"I have a rank, call me by it." Locke replied, already knowing who it was, and already irritated with the voice on the other side of the transmission.

"As do I, Captain." The captain dripped with sarcasm.

"You hold no rank in the military, and you are no Lord of mine." Locke matched the sarcastic tone word for word.

"Still playing the big bad wolf I hear. I control P-SEP's interests in this sector, and by extension I control you."

"What do you want Vincent?" Locke's ire was growing with every word this so-called royal filth was uttering.

"Why are you not searching for the Fateful Moment? It has been weeks since you were ordered to do so." Vincent was calm, every word over pronounced like the rest of his bloodline.

"My orders are none of your business, we are resupplying here then we are leaving for the rebel sectors, the Hyperion is ready to leave as soon as we are done with our new recruit."

"You would do well to show some respect."

Locke did not reply immediately, he chose his next words carefully, making sure that it would have the necessary impact and clarity. "You and your superiors can kiss my armoured ass." Simple yet effective, he thought.

Vincent's voice betrayed his anger, his calm exterior lie breaking slightly. "You dare speak to me as if you are my equal!" Vincent regained some of his composure before he spoke again. "You have been a thorn in my side for too long, I will see you punished for this."

"I am not some dog you can punish whenever I bark back. Go to hell you bastard. I will see you there." Locke cut the transmission with a word behind his visor before Vincent could reply. That scum had agitated him. They needed to move soon, before that fool in orbit did something stupid or reckless.

Locke switched channels and hailed the Hyperion.

A female communication officer's voice answered the hail almost immediately. "Captain Locke. How can I assist you?"

"Inform Captain Gray that we will be departing soon. We have had an unfriendly nudge from the Stygian Council's commander."

"Captain Gray will be informed."

Locke removed his helmet with an escaping hiss, looking at his squad in turn. His next words were difficult, he knew the implications of the order he was about to give.

The rest of the squad had heard nothing of the conversation between their captain and the other person. They had just seen the irritation in their leader's movements.

Locke took a breath and looked at Nathan. He hesitated before speaking. "Get him out." Nathans was already checking weapons. Locke turned to the other Titans around him. "Go with him, be quick, we are leaving."

In orbit the Hyperion's plasma core was awoken from its slumber, brining ship systems online across the board. Captain Gray was a veteran of many void battles, having fought in the Rebel Wars many years ago before his ship was commissioned to carry his current cargo. He liked the Titans, especially Locke and the quiet big one. He respected Locke for his strength, and for his ability to easily piss off any commanding officer with just a few words.

The Hyperion was a spear of silver armour plating, its spear tip a flattened-off snub nose that housed the bridge and vital ship control rooms. Thicker sections of the hull were spaced apart behind the flat prow, almost coiling around the ship in loops of armour plating. The core and its generators, and the all-important BEAM drive, were behind these heavily armoured sections. It all ended in an array of void engines, able to power the Hyperion between the stars with phenomenal speed. In the belly of the Hyperion docking bays were hidden behind immense bay doors. These doors would open and expel its contingent of Crescent fighters and Firefly drop ships whenever they were needed. Even the weapon arrays were hidden in the vessel's hull, and only revealed when something needed to be killed.

Captain Gray watched his bridge crew work, he was proud of every one of them; their efficiency and competence was second to none in the entire galaxy. Gray was bulky, no doubt the genes from his father the champion ring fighter having something to do with it. He was almost seven feet tall without any augmentations, muscled arms and meaty legs were all hidden underneath his pristine officer's suit. Anyone that ever opposed him found out the hard way how strong he really was. Many junior officers and piss for brains soldiers experiencing his power in unsanctioned boxing matches on-board the Hyperion. He enjoyed those moments in the ring, earning respect from everyone on-board with every victory, the big and silent Titan the only one to ever best him.

Gray smoothed down his silver moustache with his sausage-like fingers, eyeing the female officer next to his command chair. His silver hair echoed the colour and bristle texture of his moustache.

"Why so nervous my scrumpet?" he said, knowing that P-SEP, nor the military, had no policies against sexual harassment.

The female officer huffed at him. "I am not nervous sir, just eager." She looked at the dark ship on the screen in the middle of the bridge, squinting as she took in details the ship systems were adding to it by the minute. "That ship would put up one hell of a fight, sir."

Gray smiled at that, such a petite and beautiful young thing, yet so passionate about shedding blood. Perhaps that is why he was so attracted to her, not that he would ever mention it to anyone.

"Indeed, it would put up hell of a fight right before it blasted our little ship to excrement and junk."

"So, shields up then sir?"

Gray nodded. "You read my mind Remy, shields to full. Bring us about, show the bastard our most flattering side."

Remy responded instantly, yelling out her captain's orders to the rest of the bridge crew.

The Hyperion's engines flared, its manoeuvring thrusters making it drift away from the Stygian Council.

Its thrusters making it drift away from the vessel beside it, baring its backside to the larger vessel.

Twice they had almost killed him. He had been forced to stand his ground on one of the platforms, fending off the pack multiple times as they sought to bring him down. The last time was the closest he had come to being skewered by one of their spikes. The pack was down to only four now, slaying at least one during the fierce fighting.

Christian had no time to think on what would happen if he failed here, his timer was down to twenty-one hours already, who knew how long the Labyrinth would take to conquer, who knew how many more rooms or obstacles he had to traverse before the end. The fight had been raging for more than an hour, constantly attacked from all sides, testing his weaknesses like true killers.

One of the little horrors darted towards him, bringing its sharp pincers trailing behind it like tails. He side stepped it with ease only to see another leap from the edge of a nearby pillar. It did not leap directly at him, instead it used another pillar to try and leap at his flank. Christian met the monster with his Anvil shield, directing its blows away from him, swinging at it with his combat blade. This opened up his other flank to the third terror, the largest one, rushing at him with spikes outstretched in front of it. Christian pivoted just in time, the creature's spikes glancing off his shield's smooth edge, momentarily throwing the monster off balance.

He seized the opportunity and kicked at the beast with all of his strength, the kick connecting with a crack of bones. It was sent flying over the edge of the platform they were fighting on, squealing as it fell. Christian thought he had killed another, but the largest of the pack was far from incapacitated, he saw it rise on a pillar that had shifted up close to the platform he was on. It would take more than just a kick to fell the beast child.

The fourth member of pack had been jumping around the fight, from pillar to pillar, probably waiting for another opportunity to try and surprise him.

Two of the creatures dashed at him from the sides, trying to split his attention, forcing a gap to open. Christian threw his blade at the one on his right and swung the Anvil shield to his left, the shield connected with its target the same moment the blade split the head of the creature on his right. The creature slumped and slid towards him, killed almost instantly by the blade penetrating its skull. The shield blow had caused the other monster with pincers at the end of its limbs to stagger backwards, giving Christian an opportunity to hurt it even more. He jumped at the horror, his shield raised, bringing it down on its head. It crumpled under the blow, falling to the ground with a wheeze of escaping sounds. Christian followed his shield bash up with a downward punch from his armoured fist, reducing the creature's head to sludge.

He was almost too busy to notice another creature make its appearance. Christians reap sight highlighted the heavy footfalls of something approaching with accurate pings on his visor.

The new monstrosity came into view a few platforms away, if these other creatures were once children, this one was the daddy. It stood as tall as he did, with two giant scorpion-like tails hovering behind it, attached to its back on muscled limbs. It still looked human enough, save for the obvious mutations. This one had eyes and an almost normal human face. It chattered at the largest of the pack Christian was fighting, and the child monster returned the sound with a bark of what sounded like agreement.

These creatures were smarter than they looked, communicating in primitive means, but communicating enough to coordinate attacks.

The larger beast never had the chance to attack Christian. From behind him a heavy machinegun opened up, reducing the monster to a blood smear on a nearby pillar. Christian was too surprised to move. The largest of the pack was engulfed by a fireball explosion, melting it down to its smallest parts.

The last creature that had been running and jumping around the fight made one last attempt at Christian's exposed back while his attention was elsewhere. It was caught by the neck in mid-air by an armoured hand, struggling in the Titan's grasp before it died. The Titan that had caught it used his other hand to rip the head from the small nightmare, ending its misery.

Christian watched the Titan throw the body of the creature over the edge of the platform and walk towards him. Two other Titans jumped onto the platform he was standing on, all three of them converging on him. Another stood on a pillar a distance away, checking his equipment and communicating with someone over his radio.

The largest Titan spoke first, slapping Christian on the back. "Well done Little Bear," he said with a heavy accent.

"Little B?" Christian tried to ask.

But he was cut off by the Titan wearing enough explosions to flatten the building they were in. "Excuse him. He has a strange name for everyone. I am Xander, or Boom-Boom to Pyoter." He gestured to the giant Titan next to him. "And yes, I do realize his name for me makes me sound like an infant going potty, but what can you do, look at the size of him."

Pyoter chuckled and folded his arms. "Da," is all he said.

"We are leaving Corporal Quinn, grab your shit." The other Titan on the platform said.

Christian recognized the voice and the mannerism as the Titan spoke. "Nathan?" he asked. "But I am not done here, my training is not complete. I need to finish this."

"No, we are leaving now. Get ready to move out." Nathan turned his head to Xander. "We need a door. Make one."

Xander unclipped a few explosives from his belts and jumped to the platforms leading to the nearest wall.

"Nathan, please." Christian pleaded.

"No. Move out. That's an order, brother."

Christian could say nothing more, when Nathan took that kind of tone it was best not to argue with him.

# Chapter Two  
Hyperion

" _Know this, for the sake of humankind I would sacrifice them all, my entire crew, even though they are part of me and my ship, we would die to keep the rest of our people safe."  
-Captain Willis Gray, Cruiser Hyperion_

There was no time for debriefings or questions. Christian's new squad had exfiltrated him in mere minutes. There were no formal introductions as they left the Labyrinth, he could only listen to the chatter between the squad members, not daring to speak out of place. He had no time to say goodbye to anyone before he left, the squad escorted him to landing pad outside of Beta Facility without speaking to him, only ushering him forward, where a Firefly drop ship waited for them.

The drop ship was a fat-bellied shuttle that looked more like a beetle than anything air worthy, its heavy armour adding to its bulk, it might have looked like a lump of metal but it could out manoeuvre most civilian shuttles in void or atmospheric operations. It was especially handy during combat drops, its nose and side mounted heavy calibre weapons carving bloody lines in the enemy formations, making any landing zone safe before its cargo could disembark. It was the obvious choice and perfect match for Titan deployments.

Christian sat in silence as the ship lifted off, wondering who would speak to him first and explain what the hell was going on.

It was the giant Pyoter that spoke first. "Relax Little Bear. The boss will clear things up for you, and for all of us."

"Why do you call me that?" Christian asked.

"Because Big Bear is over there, and you are the younger one. I thought it was obvious."

"But we are the same size, why not just call him bear and call me something else."

Pyoter nodded to Christian. "Da, he was called Bear, but now you are here," Pyoter lifted his arms, animating his words with added hand gestures. Something the people from his world did all the time, perhaps thinking that the hand gestures would help the apes they were speaking to understand them better - it did not have the desired effect.

"I would have preferred something more...more unique."

"Little Bear is unique," Pyoter chuckled and looked at the rest of the squad, looking for support from the others.

"At least it's better than mine," Xander chipped in. He sat next to Pyoter - with a seat between them, because of Pyoter's size that was what past as being next to him - counting the explosives hanging from his armour. "Ladies would at least be interested in where yours came from, the story behind it, mine just makes them giggle and walk away." He had finished counting, resting his hands on his knees as the drop ship went through turbulence during its climb to the heavens. "Impossible to get laid with a name like mine, and he always has to lead with my name during introductions with the fairer sex. Such a big bastard you are Pyoter, and I am not referring to your size."

The Titan that had not said a word to Christian since the Labyrinth added his own comments to the discussion, the sergeant stripes sparkled on his right shoulder, the light of the ship's interior bouncing off of them. "I don't know why you are complaining, you all were blessed with regular names at birth, and I am the one that has to suffer every day."

"Oh shit, here we go again." Nathan was standing in the doorway leading to the cockpit of the ship, listening to the squad's conversation with a smile on his face. "I told you I would shoot you if you started this again."

"What? Why? The FNG hasn't heard it yet, you can shoot me later." Rivers, as he was called by the rest of the squad, sat a few seats away close to the ramp of the drop ship. His helmet turned towards Christian. "Ask me my full name mate." He was waiting for the question so he could launch into a lengthy re-telling of his father and his naming conventions, luckily he would have to cut it short, Nathan's irritation forcing the shorter version.

"Don't do it kid," Xander pleaded.

Christian was curious now, so he stepped into the trap voluntarily. "What is your full name Sergeant Rivers?"

"My name, my full name, is Argyle Reece Stacey Elliot Rivers," he said, adding emphasis to every name, letting them sink in better for some reason. "The second," he added. "When I was older my Ma informed me that my Pa was drunk out of his mind the night I was born. He was a funny one."

"I don't get it." Christian could not see the joke in his name.

"Think about it, you will see it eventually."

The rest of the squad broke out in laughter. Pyoter slapped Christian on the knee, obviously understanding the joke better than he did.

Christian just nervously laughed with the rest of them, he was pretty sure that they were all on something.

Rivers whistled, cutting off the laughter with his ear screeching mouth acoustics, pointing through a small armoured window between Pyoter and Xander, partially obscured by the first's bulk. "There she is."

Christian followed his pointed finger and saw the cruiser he was going to call home from now on.

He just swallowed at the sight of her. Astonished at how pristine she still looked, being almost three-hundred years old.

Nathan held his right hand to his helmet, listening to something over the drone of the ship's void engines. "Captain Locke is waiting for us, no more jokes. Corporal Quinn, you will be first in line. Form up."

Christian released the locking mechanism of the seats restraint, standing as he disengaged his helmet from its neck seals, holding it under his left arm as ceremony upon meeting a senior officer required.

This was it, he thought.

The first few steps down the loading ramp of the drop ship was nerve racking, the entire docking bay of the Hyperion was frantic with activity. Christian guessed that his sudden removal from his trails was part of the preparation of whatever was happening. Everywhere workers loaded crates onto loaders, disappearing into storage areas and re-emerging again to gather more crates.

"Those crates contain our supplies, you will get a taste of our five star mess halls very soon," Nathan said, noticing Christian's focus wandering. "Make sure you get your supply of toilet paper, the first few weeks are rough on your system."

"My system is still not use to it. Can't even remember what real food tastes like, probably won't even be able to tell the difference between shit and honey glazed ham these days. These protein-based foods kill your taste buds." Rivers added while they were walking towards a doorway leading out of the docking bay.

"I will try and remember that," Christian said.

"You could always try the lower decks, lots of rats down there." Nathan did not turn to look at Rivers as he spoke, he picked up the pace, passing Christian at the head of the column of Titans.

Christian wondered why the workers and engineers on the deck just ignored them. The people he had passed in the corridors of Beta facility during his extraction looked at him like slack-jawed puppies. Their wonderment was clear in their facial expressions. Titans were something to see, something to witness and tell your grandchildren about.

On the Hyperion they might as well have been part of the crew or invisible. Everyone was busying themselves with their appointed duties. Perhaps that was why the Titans went almost unnoticed on their path to leave the docking bay.

The squad reached the door leading out of the bay, Nathan opened it with a metal on metal screech, shepherding everyone through it.

The room on the other side of the door was an empty room of bare metal, no furniture could be seen anywhere, a single door opposite the other door they had entered from led to the bowels of the Hyperion. The room was only used for mustering troop in, here leaders and senior officers could convey their orders before departure or debrief their troops once missions were completed.

Nathan closed the door behind the squad, stepping in as he did so. The door gave another screech as its locking mechanism turned the gears, securing it in place.

The door on the opposite wall opened as soon as the other one closed, the Wolves formed up in a line, Christian at the one end, Nathan at the other, arranged in line by rank.

Captain Gabriel Locke stepped through the open door, his armour's newly painted finish almost glowing in the light of the mustering room. The squad's signature insignia was painted in vivid green and grey on his right bicep. A snarling wolf on the field of green stared at Christian as he watched his new commander in silence.

The decking beneath the captain gave a dull clang with every step he took, lending weight to his already formidable presence.

Captain Locke greeted his squad with a nod, not removing his helmet to speak to them. "Quick work Wolves, don't get too comfortable, we have to train the FNG ourselves before mission start." Locke walked down the line, patting Pyoter and Rivers on the arm in greeting.

Christian stared straight out in front of him, trying to not let the Captain's aura get to him. It was more difficult than anyone could imagine. A living legend only a few feet away from him, a man he had read about in war journals, his epic tails of battle painting a picture of a demigod.

"Relax, Little Bear." Locke stopped in front of Christian. "That's right, Nathan already informed me about your love for your new nickname."

"Yes sir!" Christian replied.

"Loud isn't he?" He directed the question at Rivers, who was standing next to Christian.

"I am already drawing up plans for a silencer for his helmet, Captain." Rivers replied with a smug tone.

"Let's keep that one as a last resort Sergeant." Locke looked back at Christian. Looking him up and down, no doubt sizing him up. "Corporal Quinn, report to B deck, your armour looks out of place without the proper colours on it. Xander, meet up with him after designation and show him his quarters, understood?"

"Yes sir!" Xander replied.

"Once you are done settling in report to the armoury. The squad will meet you there."

Christian just nodded, not daring to speak too loud again.

"Very good Little Bear, very good. Squad dismissed." Locke turned to Nathan, removing his helmet with a hiss. "Nathan. A word please."

Christian could only see the back of his new captain's head before he left the room for B deck.

A few systems distant, a cargo vessel drifted in the void. It drifted without any destination, its engines silent, and its reactor dormant. The vessel was a large cargo hauler used by P-SEP to transport resources from sector to sector. During missions its cargo varied, transporting anything from livestock to machine parts needed for military production.

This one, however, was en route to New Horizon, its mission and route through the sectors top secret to anyone not involved in the Titan Project. Cargo bays able to hold thousands of tons of materials were now empty, all of it vanishing when the vessel itself went silent. Rebel ambush was the obvious explanation for the vessel's sudden disappearance from P-SEP's tracking systems.

P-SEP's assumption was wrong; there were no rebels ships reported in its vicinity, no shots were fired on any enemies.

The Fateful Moment had not been boarded by any hostile. It was not ambushed or attacked. Its crew was merely erased, without mercy, without a reason except to keep a secret, executed like criminals, tied up and shot one by one like scum, and then ejected into the void like garbage. None of them deserved to die like that, but their deaths served a very important purpose, a purpose that would remain hidden from the galaxy until the time was right.

Even though their deaths had served a purpose to someone, they did not know it before they died, no-one telling them why they had to die. The crew's brutal murders were lost to the silence of the void. Their deaths only a footnote at the end of an after action report. Simply vanishing without any last words, leaving only their meagre personal belongings behind, and blood smears on the decking of the Fateful Moment.

It continued drifting, going nowhere, its desolate and cold corridors the only witnesses to what really happened. It was waiting to be discovered, an invisible hand guiding it, hoping that something or someone would find it, maybe even reveal its secrets.

The vessel's name was fitting, for whoever found the vessel first, would be led down a treacherous path, culminating in one Fateful Moment that would change the galaxy forever.

Christian looked around his new quarters. There was no space to remove his suit, not that he wanted to, he was just calculating the quarter's dimensions, reasoning that his suit would be removed in another section of the ship after an operation. He would have to find that out later, for now he had only a few minutes to himself before he had to report to the armoury with the rest of his new squad.

His suit had a new tint to it, almost the same as before but it seemed to glow slightly, catching the light and refracting it at odd angles, matching the rest of the Wolves' armour.

The snarling wolf on his right bicep filled him with pride, he did not catch the name of the man painting it on his arm, but the man was obviously skilled, it would be a great dishonour to let anything damage or ruin this piece of art. He looked at his left bicep, staring at his personal insignia painted there.

All regular soldiers wore a personal family identifier on their military fatigues, making them feel as if they were a unique and an important piece in the military machine. Everyone wore their family insignia with honour, proud to represent their forefathers in the struggle against the Beast. Some insignias had more weight to them, certain families more distinguished than others.

The Titans were allowed to wear any insignia identifying them on their left bicep, family insignias were not enforced by Command. Christian had to think when the artist had asked him what he wanted there, it took him only a few moments but he had chosen something that meant something to him.

Two fists, knuckles touching, wrapped in unbreakable chains, the words Forever Loyal written beneath it. Christian stared at it for a long time; it brought back deep emotions, emotions he had worked his entire life to bury, he bit them back once again, leaving the words to echo in his mind while the memories were kept at bay.

He took a deep breath and sat down on what looked like the most uncomfortable bed in the galaxy, it creaked and squealed like little piglets being chased around his quarters, placing his helmet on the bed next to him, its weight releasing another creak from the bed.

In the corner a metal chair and a tiny, fold-out desk sat immobile, waiting to be used, looking more like they were used too much. The chair would not be able to hold the weight of anything more than a child, the table being nothing but a piece of flat metal riveted to the wall on rusty hinges.

Home sweet home, he thought. It was nothing compared to his lavish lifestyle on his home world. For some strange reason he liked this place more than his previous residence, somehow feeling like he belonged where he was now.

A blinking light he had not noticed at first caught his attention as he looked around the room, daydreaming about what was to come. Above the head of his squeaking bed a personal receiver and screen stared back at him, bolted to the bare metal wall by hasty hands, its right side hanging lower than the left side, something that instantly irked him.

Christian pressed the blinking light, the button beneath it clicking, activating the message that had been waiting for the quarter's new owner.

He was relieved to hear the voice, knowing that his sudden departure from New Horizon would have caused the voice's owner great concern. It made him smile to hear it now, how strange it was to be leaving without saying goodbye, it almost made him feel hollow somehow. A feeling that vanished quickly the more the voice spoke.

Her voice always had that effect on him.

"I...wish I could have said goodbye in person, Christian." She sounded so sad. "Why did they just take you like that? Why did they not let you say goodbye?"

Silly girl, he thought, they did not know about us.

"It hurts Christian, I wish I could hear your voice, or just know that you will be safe. It breaks me to not be able to talk to you. It kills me not knowing if I will ever see you again." She started crying, as strong as she was she still tried to hide it, but ultimately failed.

He wished he could hold her, just to keep her from harm forever. Love changes a person, some say it does not, but it does without a doubt change the hardest bastard into a soft, blubbering fool. He realized with a sudden shock that he had never told her that he loved her, he hoped she knew it.

"Please find a way to contact me, if you can. I will be waiting for you, until the end. I asked Sam to hide something in your suit. I want you to have it, may it bring you back to me in one piece. Sam said he would hide it in a special piece of equipment for me. Look for it there. I have to keep this short. Command won't allow you to receive encrypted messages like this again. Goodbye Christian, be safe."

The message stopped, he was already checking the many compartments located throughout his suit, panicking slightly as each one contained what they were intended for, and he could not see anything out of the ordinary within these compartments. Then it hit him, the shield, Sam had said it was a special one.

Christian unclipped it from his back and started looking at it intently, noticing nothing at first, after a few moments of closer inspection he saw a hidden button on the side of the shield's grip. The button looked like the rest of the grip, but with enough pressure it released a latch, opening up a small panel on the side of the shield's mechanism. He tilted the shield, letting whatever was inside slide out into the palm of his other hand.

It was the silver locket and chain she wore around her neck, he never saw her without it, the fact that she had removed it and given it to him would have been very difficult for her.

He unclipped the chain and put it around his neck, forcing it down beneath the edges of his under suit, it would be more than just safe there. It pressed against his body, and it would constantly remind him of her. She was such a clever creature.

He closed the panel on his shield, locking the shield to his back again. Christian stood, picking up his helmet and locking it into place over his head. He was going to be late if he lingered any longer. His reply to her message would have to wait. Not too long, but long enough for him to think about what he was going to say to her.

Christian pressed the door lock, the door sliding open to reveal the dark corridor outside of his quarters leading to the armoury, he promised himself to reply to her message before they left for the mission.

He hoped he would keep that promise.

They were waiting for him in the armoury, everyone except Pyoter, fully geared up and ready. Ready for what Christian had no idea, but he hoped it would be further training. He was still irritated about his time in the Labyrinth being cut short. His chance to prove himself would have to wait for another time.

Rivers beckoned him over to where the weapon racks were hastily mounted to the armoury wall. The racks were mostly empty, only a few weapons still attached to the racks by locking clamps.

Christian's eyes scanned the paltry selection, thankful for the pristine weapons they had issued him in Beta Facility.

Rivers lifted a crate from the floor and banged it down on the armoury's metal table. "Grab some attachments for that Kicker of yours. It isn't much good in standard configuration. It's only good for creating leaks in small targets." He opened the crate, revealing dozens of different attachments for Christian's rifle.

Christian did not recognize half of the attachments, picking up a few to look at them with surprised curiosity. "How many do I need?" he asked Rivers.

"As many as you can carry. When the crap hits the fan it's better to have a few options. This one," Rivers paused to pick up a tube-like attachment, but it had a smaller bore than any attachments in the training manual, "launches titanium spikes, very handy when you need to slow down a fast-moving beastie."

Christian had no idea what to make of them, randomly picking up a few, guessing at what their function was. "What about this one?" he asked, hefting up a bigger attachment with a flat barrel and a fat gas tank below it.

"Ah yes, that one, I was looking for that. It's not ready yet, might just kill you. If that happens I will have to explain to everyone why you were firing untested and unsanctioned hardware."

"Unsanctioned?"

"Yes, you think these are all military design. No mate, these are my designs, all of them are my babies."

"Babies?"

"Well yes, wouldn't you love them like your own if you created them and nurtured them like I do? Feed them beastie targets regularly, clean them and give them a nice place to sleep." Rivers held on to the attachment Christian had held only a few moments earlier, he held on to it like a father cradling his son for the first time.

"He probably loves his gadgets more than his own children." Xander had approached from behind, fiddling with his plethora of explosives again. He was chuckling to himself as he looked through a crate with even more explosive devices.

"You haven't met my children. I definitely love my babies more than my own offspring."

That made Christian laugh as well, the squad's light-heartedness was unsettling at first, but the more he was in contact with them the better it made him feel.

"One week," Nathan said from the corner of the armoury, he was there the entire time, stripping his own weapons, cleaning the parts with a dirty cloth. "We have one week to train him, we should get to it."

Everyone wore their helmets. It was impossible to see their expressions behind their mirror visors, the tone of their voices the only hints Christian had to what the mood of the squad was. Nathan's tone was flat and lacked any emotion. They were so accustomed to being inside their suits; it seemed that they never took them off. Christian had to agree with that idea, keeping the suit on forever would not be a bad thing, it felt like part of him already. But it was probably not very good for his body to be strained for too long. He wanted to ask how long each of them had been in their suits, but he was cut off by Captain Locke entering the armoury.

Locke's helmet was on as well. His voice however had enough authority behind it that you did not need to see his face to follow his orders or know what his expression was.

"Corporal," he nodded at Christian. "I see the artist didn't have to paint little pink flowers for you everywhere. Good, we might be able to get you ready in time then."

"No sir. What am I in time for sir?" Christian asked Locke.

"Your first mission, in one week you will see what it's like to be a real Titan. Where you will either pass or fail your trials."

"I thought the Labyrinth and everything before that were the trials?"

"They were, but because your final trial was cut short we have to sharpen your skills during active operations."

"About the Labyrinth," Christian started to ask but was cut off by Locke's raised hand.

"Nothing about it Corporal, the final trial is nothing but a survival exercise, a sadistic one but one nonetheless."

"What do you mean sir?"

"There is no real end to the Labyrinth. It was designed to disorient you while you were attacked from all sides. The room my squad found you in was it, there was nothing beyond it. The shifting pillars and enemies were all there to make your survival difficult, had you stayed longer, bigger and nastier enemies would be introduced every hour, making survival even more difficult."

"But, what about the timer and the briefing said there were only a few hostiles in the Labyrinth."

"All a facade Corporal, when the timer reached zero you would have been notified to exit, if you were still alive that is. The last few hours in there would have been very dangerous." Locke walked over to the weapon racks, unclipping a Kicker with many custom additions to it, a giant Nova launcher attached underneath its non-standard long barrel. "I myself survived only because I killed the big hostiles first, once I ran out of ammo the smaller ones were easier to deal with."

"Where would I have received more ammo? I never saw any of the caches."

"There were no caches, it is all a trick, the creator's mechanism might have been genius, but the true nature of it was evil. It was meant to trick you in every way possible, lie to you, give you false hope, and then try to kill you. That room, with all of the moving platforms, there are many other traps throughout it. False floors, spike traps, flame traps, crushing traps and even traps that would release more hostiles."

"What about the first two I killed, are there bigger ones than those in the Labyrinth?"

"Ah yes, those two, we had never seen that before, they had somehow broken out of the Labyrinth, the area you killed them in was nothing but an abandoned medical wing. It was abandoned when the creator of that facility acquired it to build his diabolical machine." Locke started loading his Kicker with bullets from a nearby ammunition case. "So you see, when the timer reaches zero you would have succeeded, or failed if you never saw the timer reach zero."

"It was a lie, to try and kill me?"

"Yes, and if it didn't then you would be a Titan. Now the situation has changed, and other things will try and kill you during the rest of your training." Locke finished loading his Kicker, clipping it to his back as he walked to the door leading to another part of the Hyperion's armoury. "First. Combat training against real opponents, meaning...us." He jabbed his armoured thumb into his chest, disappearing through the door.

The rest of the squad took that as a cue of some kind, all of them followed Locke, brandishing their weapons as they walked past Christian.

Not good, Christian thought, not good at all.

"Where's Pyoter?" Christian asked the squad as they walked down a corridor towards another room in the bowels of the Hyperion. He was obviously missing from the squad, his size making it difficult for him to ever be a hide and seek champion.

"Warming up, we will get to him later." Xander replied over his shoulder, walking a few paces in front of Christian.

They reached the new room, Locke entering first, Christian last. Christian could not believe his eyes at first, switching to his tactical sight with a word. It was not a room, looking more like a gladiatorial pit from old Earth than any training arena he had heard of.

Bare-metal obstacles littered the centre of the pit, built at random angles and random heights. Some were hip height, others as tall as two Titans, their construction creating many different firing angles and cover positions. The pit was as large as a civilian freighter's docking bay, with thirty foot tall solid metal walls surrounding it. Viewing galleries looked down at the entire pit and all of its obstacles.

Christian could make out a few figures looking on from the galleries above them, most of them probably there to see the Titans in action, others just for the sport of it.

He could not see their faces, nor hear their cheering. It made him feel like a gladiator, a gladiator about to face the lions. Christian silently wished for lions instead of his current opponents. Lions, or creatures of the same ferocity, he could beat, the steel-clad wolves he was about to face were a different kind of animal. Lost in his own thoughts he almost missed Locke's first few words.

"The first exercise is very simple. Mark all of us before we take you down." Locke said, pulling back the slide of his rifle.

"Mark you?" Christian asked.

"Yes, by any means necessary, by bullet or blade."

"You want me to shoot you?"

"Well, you might want to, seeing as we will be shooting at you."

"To try and kill me?"

"Of course, the hostiles you will face out there in the galaxy," Locke pointed to a random side of the pit, pointing at some invisible foe beyond the hull of the ship, "will definitely not ask you out for dinner. Everything out there, even some humans, wants you dead. And you learn better by doing, in this case, being hunted by the best."

"What if I kill one of you?"

That brought on roaring laughter from the other three Wolves standing close by.

Rivers was the one to answer his question. "Then you deserve to be here kid."

"Now go, Quinn." Locke did not move. He just watched Christian, waiting for him to comply with his order.

# Chapter Two.One  
Hunted

" _If I ever had to fight one of them, I would piss myself before curling up into the fetal position."  
-Private McBride, Arkelis, Survivor_

Christian turned, showing his back to the squad, leaping over the nearest obstacle. He sprinted away from his hunters, unclipping his rifle from his back. In the short walk to the pit from the armoury he had attached an unknown addition to the underside of his rifle. It looked like an electromagnet, covered in spools of wire, there was a half-moon trigger at the base of the attachment, and above it a bar of green lights with the word charge below it.

Great, he thought, I brought a taser to a gun fight.

It would have to do, the radio was silent, and like true hunters they stalked him without a sound. He kept running, waiting for the first of his predators to show themselves.

Xander was the first to, appearing out of thin air behind an obstacle ahead of Christian. He was faster than Christian, covering the same distance and having time to set a trap in the same time Christian had fled from his hunters.

He saw the trip wires in time, jumping over them without losing speed. But it was a ruse, Xander's second, and main trap was sprung the moment Christian leapt over the wires. A motion mine hidden behind the edge of an obstacle to Christian's left armed and detonated the same exact moment he had passed it. Xander hat calculated the speed of the sprinting Titan perfectly.

The motion mine was a custom design, it was not meant to kill, it was only meant to scramble his suit OS with static interference. The explosion's bloom caused Christian to wince, static filling his ears and vision for a split second as the suit OS tried to compensate for the burst of interference. A deafening sound pierced his ears and he lost his balance, staggering away from the mine's detonation zone, shaking his head to clear his disorientation.

He still held on to his rifle, banging his left hand on the side of his helmet, trying to help the suit OS with rebooting its systems. Christian was aware of that fact that he was basically open to attack, he had to hurry.

When his vision returned he was staring at Xander's pistol, pointed at him from a few paces away. Xander shrugged, as if to say sorry for what was about to happen, he fired without a word.

Christian side stepped the first shot and charged at Xander, the explosives expert fired again, the second bullet ricocheting from his right shoulder, the third and fourth hitting him in the upper torso. The impact of the bullets hitting his armour made him stumble, but it could not stop his forward momentum.

In a clang of metal meeting metal the two Titans collided, Christian's left shoulder hitting Xander in the middle of his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall. In the Labyrinth the flesh of the enemies gave way under impact, the Titan on the other hand, took the blow and did not crumble under the weight of it.

Both of them went to ground in a tangle of limbs and weapons. Christian had made sure that he missed the explosives decorating the other Titan's armour. If he had missed his intended target, they would probably have been in pieces all over the area.

They struggled against one another's strength, wrestling like drunken boxers, each trying to get the upper hand. Xander was smaller than Christian, but he had vast depths of strength to draw from, strength hidden from what the eyes could see. He was smaller than the other Titans, but his stocky ancestry made him powerful to grapple with.

Christian guessed that his forefathers mated with gods at one point in the past, it was the only explanation why Xander could be so strong. He was straining against Xander's mighty muscles, his Greek wrestler's bloodline overpowering him slowly.

He had to end it now, before he was crushed in Xander's grip. Christian let go of him, instead he struggled to bring his rifle into the fight. It was lodged tight between them, pointing down to their legs. Xander tried to wrench the rifle away from him, but the rifle stayed put, its barrel aiming at Xander's thigh, he reached for it but his hand was knocked aside, the distraction of switching focus between him and his rifle giving Christian the time to pull the trigger.

A shot went off, echoing between the two Titans.

Xander relaxed almost instantly. "Well done Little Bear, I am marked."

Christian remained tense, worrying if he had shot his fellow squad member in a vital area, taking a step back to scan the other Titan. He was relieved to see no blood leaking from Xander.

Xander reached down to just below his most vital area, wiping a bullet ricochet mark away from his armoured groin. "Shit kid, almost took away something important, Pyoter would have had a field day with it."

"How are you so strong?" Christian asked, breathless from the wrestling match.

"No time to gossip. Better get going, before they find you."

Christian nodded, gripping his rifle tighter; he took off in a random direction, hoping to have a few moments to recover before another predator pounced.

Her tears could not be stopped, flowing down her cheeks, dripping into her hands, hands that felt cold and meaningless now. She sat on her bed in her lavish apartment, an apartment given to her because of her work with the Titan Project. Others were dying out there in the galaxy and she received everything on a silver platter. She hated this place more and more every day, and now that very project had taken the most important thing away from her.

She thought about how lucky she had been, she could have searched the cosmos for aeons before finding someone like him, but she had found him so early in her life, lucky was an understatement. Now he was ripped from her life, for the sake of everyone's safety. She felt ashamed at being so selfish, he had a job to do and she had helped him to prepare for it. That made her feel even worse, by doing her job to the best of her abilities she had helped him leave. Shit, she thought.

More tears welled up in her beautiful brown eyes, her battle to hold them back beyond lost now.

Her sky-blue hair cascaded down the sides of her face, noticing how dirty it was. She had isolated herself from everyone and everything since he left; neglecting the little things, the potted plant in the corner of her apartment needed water, her pet needed food, and she needed him.

She told herself that he would be ok, and she will see him again, hopefully.

Jessica Saxe wiped the tears from her cheeks with her cold hands, finally scraping together enough courage to do something. She needed to keep busy, sitting in her apartment alone and pathetic helped no-one. Immersing herself in her work would help pass the time, how much time she did not know, but at least it was something.

With a deep breath she stood and started to pull the dirty, smelly clothes from her body, showering would help revitalize her. But before she could move to get in her glass shower the radio on her desk started beeping, the words incoming transmission scrolling across its receiver.

A sigh escaped her lips, she grabbed the closest piece of semi-clean clothing littered throughout her apartment's floor, and sat down in front of the radio on her desk.

Jessica hesitated before pressing the receiver button, closing her eyes and focusing on keeping her voice from showing signs of the pain she felt.

The button clicked and the person on the other side spoke without a greeting.

"Doctor Saxe, we need you in Gamma Facility now, there has been a development," the voice said with great urgency.

"I am on my way." Jessica replied. Looks like the shower would have to wait. People would just have to deal with the smell, not that anyone smelled like flowers these days, more like shit and roses. "Have you seen my sister today? She hasn't been home in days."

"No. We haven't seen her either. See you soon Doctor."

"Thank you, Ben." The radio went dead, her hand still lingering on the receiver button.

She bit the nail of her thumb, wondering where the little runt could be. Jessica Saxe grabbed her favourite leather jacket draped over her desk chair, making her way to her front door. She paused before leaving, for just a moment, gathering up an already depleted reservoir of courage, looking at the apartment over her shoulder as she walked out and closed the door behind her.

The idea never crossed her mind that it would be the last time she ever saw her hated living quarters.

"Alright my pretty," Gray said to himself. His eyes scanning the rest of the bridge, the crew were busying themselves with final preparations.

"Are you talking to me sir? Or are you talking to your ship again?" Remy asked over the noise of the bridge, still standing next to the Captain's command chair, never leaving his side unless ordered to do so.

"A little bit of both, you know how I feel about the both of you."

A slight hint of blush flushed over Remy's cheeks. She said nothing. She could not say anything with so many of the crew within earshot. All she could do was blush and smile.

"All power to main engines Remy, ready the BEAM." Gray sat upright, raising his voice over the hustle and bustle of the bridge. "All crew, sound off!"

The crew of the Hyperion, on the bridge and elsewhere, all stiffened the moment they heard Gray's voice, his voice booming over the inter-radio to all ship sections.

"Navigation ready," an officer on the bridge called out.

"Communications ready sir," another officer confirmed.

"Engineering reports green across the board Captain," Remy said at his shoulder.

"Flight systems ready, automatic control enabled." A voice from the inter-radio confirmed from elsewhere on the Hyperion.

"Titans are always ready Willis," Locke's voice was low, but it still had that rebellious tone to it.

Gray liked the man more and more every day.

"Scanners report our wake is clear of any debris or craft." Remy punched a button sequence on the keypad beside the command throne. The decking behind her split open, a chair with thick leather straps appeared from the newly opened gap, locking in to place just slightly behind the Captain's command chair.

The straps were not always there, added to her chair and all other seats on the Hyperion, after Remy's predecessor was thrown from his chair during a turbulent BEAM initiation many years ago. Gray would not risk Remy's life like that, he always made sure she was strapped in and safe before the BEAM drive initialized. He could still remember the crack the man's body made when it hit the metal wall behind the command throne. It had sounded like thunder popping every bone in the man's body. A sickening feeling spread through Gray's gut, turning his head to watch Remy strap herself into her chair, making sure she is secure before giving the next order.

Crew members afraid of the same outcome strapped themselves to whatever passed as a secure seat on the Hyperion. The BEAM drive's initial burst of speed would be either smooth or turbulent, if it was the latter then those that were not strapped down would be flirting with death, but the crew knew the risks, and some jobs needed to be done while the BEAM drive fired.

Gray waited for Remy to look up from her hands working the leather straps around her tiny frame. She finished and looked directly at Gray, taking a deep breath. "Ready my dear?" he asked her.

She nodded before bracing her arms and head against the chair.

"Good." Gray punched a code only he knew into the keypad on the armrest of his command chair. Above the keypad a square red button lit up. He hesitated for a moment, checking over the rest of the bridge before pressing the button.

"Punch it Willis." Locke sounded excited, urging Gray on.

Gray closed his eyes and pressed the button, the light from the BEAM drive always hurt his eyes.

A white light, brighter than the closest sun, grew from the centre of the Hyperion, slowly spreading, consuming the vessel until it was totally encompassed by the light. Silence filled the ship, the cruiser hung in the orbit around New Horizon for only a few more moments before it rocketed forward at a blinding speed.

The Hyperion vanished, its BEAM drive hurling it at its destination, when in motion the vessel was unable to stop, and once it was set on its course the only way of stopping it would be to perform an emergency drive shut down. No emergency shut downs were ever successful, all ships that tried to break out of the drive's course were utterly destroyed, broken apart by the forces outside of the protective light-bubble the BEAM drive provided. It was known as a one way ticket, in more ways than one.

The inhabitants of New Horizon saw the vessel leave its orbit, for only a few moments a new sun was born above the skies of the planet. It vanished seconds later without ceremony or sound.

The metal floor of the fighting pit shuddered slightly beneath Christian's armoured feet. He remembered the BEAM initialization being much worse on his body when he was still a regular soldier. The Titan suit had nullified the entire experience. It was a magnificent piece of equipment, understanding the reason more and more why his squad-mates rarely removed their suits.

His concentration had slipped, something he was prone to do when his mind wandered at random times. In a pit full of Wolves, it was not the best thing he could have done.

There had been no time to do anything since he arrived on the Hyperion. He had only those few minutes back in his quarters, and he doubted he will see any free time soon, already heading for his first mission.

I should have replied to her when I had the chance, he thought. But that would have to wait until the mission was completed.

The slip in his concentration gave the next Wolf the time to sneak up on him. Christian had stopped and put his back to the closest obstacle, at least trying to remain on guard while his mind wandered.

Rivers had seized the opportunity the moment he saw the FNG stop; he had been watching him, slowly stalking him through the obstacles. He had approached the other Titan without alerting his squad mate, the vessels shuddering had masked his approach further, allowing Rivers to get within a few feet of his target. It was no small feat, being stealthy in a Titan suit, and he would make sure that his squad knew about it after the hunt.

Christian gathered his focus again, verbally chastising himself inside his helmet, but it was too late, before he could move again the barrel of Rivers' Kicker was pointing at his visor. Rivers gave him a cheeky wave as Christian looked past the rifle at the Titan holding it.

"You shouldn't speak to yourself like that kid." Rivers' drawl made every word he spoke sound hilarious. "Loving yourself is the first step to being a virile young man. Look at me, almost forty and I feel like a twenty year old."

"Is this really the time for this?" Christian asked him.

"Always time for a joke lad, you just need to see the funny side of any situation. Now let me see your hands and step back, the game is over and it's almost grub time."

"I don't think so Sergeant."

"And why don't you think so? If you haven't noticed, I have you."

"Look between your feet sir."

Rivers liked the kid's arrogance, so he indulged him. To his surprise he saw what the FNG was talking about, he did indeed not have him at all. "Son of a whore..."

Between his boots a small, magnetic mine was stuck to the metal floor, almost invisible to the naked eye, being only a few inches in diameter and only an inch thick. Rivers' immediately regretted not using his tactical mode during the hunt; it would have highlighted it even if he never saw it with his own eyes.

"But, you were distracted, there is no way you could have heard or seen me."

"That is true, but I remembered where I am, I borrowed it from Xander in case I was trapped or someone tried to flank me. I threw it down the moment the deck started grumbling, knowing one of you sly bastards would use it to try and catch me."

"Well, now what lad? Do we just stare at each other like lovers on a first date and hope the others give us some private time? Or do we dance?"

"We dance, of course." Christian grabbed the barrel of Rivers' Kicker. With all of his new strength, he smashed the stock of the weapon into the other Titan's visor, actually cracking the visor with the blow.

"I am not calling that as a mark. You are going to help me fix that." Rivers let go of his rifle and kicked the mine away like a professional footballer from old Earth, it detonated as it hit a nearby obstacle. He pulled at the rifle to try and get the younger Titan off balance.

It didn't work all that well, it only succeeded in ripping the rifle from Christian's grip, the force of the pull causing the rifle to slide harmlessly away from the pair of Titans.

Rivers followed up the pull with a ferocious left hook. It connected with Christian's helmet with the force of a speeding land-train. The left hook was followed by a right uppercut right into Christian's stomach plating. The uppercut lifting Christian off his feet slightly, the force was astounding, yet there was no pain, only the force of the blows could be felt.

Remarkable, Christian thought as Rivers rained more blows on him. It was clear to Christian that the Sergeant was a descendant of a street brawler. The amount of fists hitting him seemed unnatural, hit after hit his armour soaked up, but slowly he was being pushed back.

Rivers was strong, but fast as lightning, the sound emanating from the fight sounded like ancient blacksmiths hammering away at a newly forged blade.

But a pattern started to emerge in Christian's mind, Rivers would land a hook, followed by the uppercut, landing two left jabs and then ending with a right hook. Every sequence exactly the same, the speed of the attacks concealing the repetition.

Christian's tactical sight started following every blow, the more hits that landed the more calculations it was able to make, working out exactly when to retaliate.

The moment flashed on his visor as Rivers pulled back to unleash another right hook, on the verge of ending another attack sequence. Instead of taking the hit this time Christian stepped towards the older Titan, pivoting his hips so the blow would hit his chest and not his head. Christian countered with a right hook of his own, perfectly timed to catch the Sergeant's arm on the inside of his elbow. The two Titans locked in place, right arms interlocked like chain links.

Christian put all of his weight on his left leg, bending it slightly as his left hand gripped tight to Rivers' struggling right arm. He lifted with his back and raised Rivers over his right shoulder, tossing the heavy Titan with one fluid movement into the obstacle he was resting against earlier.

Rivers hit the metal obstacle almost completely upside down, the hit made the giant, heavy obstacle vibrate, and the thing that was put there to never move, moved slightly.

"Mark." Christian said to the Sergeant.

Rivers had landed on his shoulder, struggling to sit upright as his senses corrected for the unexpected move. "Agreed, good one lad, I think I am going stay here for a while, gathering my thoughts and such." He coughed and chuckled when he finished speaking. "That one hurt a tad, more than I thought it would. I need to thank the almighty for this suit again. Good on you for beating an old man."

Christian laughed with his squad member. "Old man my arse - hang on a second..."

Both of them broke out in maniacal laughter, Rivers grinning and baring the pain with every chuckle. The kid had finally understood the joke about his name.

Christian beat his fist to his chest plate in respect to Rivers and ran away from the collapsed Titan still laughing. He had two more Wolves to deal with.

In the distance, Nathan and Locke stood watching on top of a square, metal obstacle overlooking most of the fighting pit.

"That was impressive." Locke said to his second in command. "This won't be as easy as we thought."

"He is arrogant. We need to put him in his place." Nathan replied without taking his eyes from the other two in the distance.

"We can't kill him, too much paperwork."

"No, but we can try, stamp out the arrogance now, before it gets him killed."

"Alright, whatever you say, he is your family after all."

"He was. The squad is my family now."

Locked jumped off their perch spot, "As long as I am not the mom, call us whatever you want."

Nathan watched his brother disappear into the depths of the pit before jumping off the perch as well. "Rivers is the mom," he said as the pair of Titans continued their hunt.

"What's the problem Ben?" Jessica had entered the lab she worked in moments before, greeted by frantic confusion by the other technicians and researchers on duty.

"Doctor," Ben greeted her without taking his eyes off the display he was working on. "All of the data, and I do mean all of it, the research, the experiments, the data from your father, the historic data on the enemy, even the personnel files, are all gone. All of it deleted during the last shift."

Jessica was speechless. That was not even remotely possible. "What about the backups?" she asked, a pit in her stomach started to form, filling up with terror.

"Gone, everything is gone, we have nothing. We are trying to find the cause now."

"This can't be, all of our advancements and all of the research, we were protected..." she drifted off as a thought occurred to her. "What about the prototypes?"

"They are safe behind the vault doors, someone tried to access the vault, Sam's cyphers and encryption system kept everything safe inside. The OS systems are another story."

"Where is Sam?"

"Back there," Ben pointed in the direction of the databanks behind sliding glass doors at the other end of the lab. "He has been here helping the entire time, refusing to let anyone enter the databank room."

"Keep me updated, we need to get our work back. I won't accept that the last eight years of my life was an utter waste."

Ben nodded in acknowledgement and went back to typing furiously on his keyboard.

Jessica's stress rose with every step she took towards the databanks, this was a complete nightmare, and it felt unreal to her. The lab's security systems were infallible.

She entered the databank room without knocking or allowed entrance, this was her lab, and not even Sam would deny her entry.

"Sam?" she called over the data-storage towers, "where the hell is he?" she added, but mostly to herself.

"Oi, down here Jess, are you alone?" Sam's voice came from between two of the rows of data stacks at the far end of the room.

"Yes...why would you ask me that?"

"Get over here, you should see this."

Jessica made her way to where Sam was, to her surprise the little runt she called her younger sister was crouched down beside him, concentrating on what Sam was doing.

"Tristan, where have you been?" she asked the frizzy-haired dwarf.

"Here. Where else would I be?" Tristan replied without looking at Jessica.

Tristan Saxe was only thirteen years old, frizzy, dirty-blonde hair framed her youthful face in wild tufts of curls. Her piercing, blue eyes watched from underneath the wild mop of hair, her thin wiry body crouching next to Sam. Jessica realized how much she looked like their departed mother, and she even had the same personality as their mother. Difficult but sharp as a razor, smarter than other children her age.

Jessica ignored the little runt's attitude, instead shifting her attention to Sam. "What's going on here Sam?"

"Shush," he said, "get down quick. Let me show you."

She did as she was told. She shut up and crouched down on the opposite side of Sam, her sister finally giving her a faint smile as they looked at each other.

"Look as this Jess, whoever did this was smart, but not smart enough." Sam said to Jess, pointing at one of the displays he had set up around him. He had plugged directly into the databanks, searching for the cause of the problem.

"What am I looking at Sam?"

Sam sighed as he looked at her through his goggles. "It was an inside job, look here and here," he pointed at the display again, highlighting logins from a lab technician. "I traced this login to all of the activity last night, there's only one problem though."

"Not another one."

"There is always a problem of some kind, huh sis?" Tristan asked with hint of sarcasm to her voice.

Jessica ignored the dwarf's words and focused on what Sam was saying, he was babbling again.

"...yes yes, problems and some more problems, nothing that we can't fix."

"Why are you watching the lab through the video feeds?" Jessica asked him, referring to the second display on his lap.

"Oh, yes, that is part of the problem. You see, the person that did all of this never left; there is no entry into the exit log with their user date. This person, Technician Fisher, is still here, but we can't see to find him anywhere."

"Fisher is pretty easy to spot. He is a chubby guy with coffee stains everywhere."

"He isn't here, he was on duty last night, his user login was used to get into the systems, everything was deleted, and then he just vanished. Look for yourself." Sam handed Jessica the display.

"That can't be." She did not look at the display. She stood up and looked at the lab with her own eyes, trusting them more. After a few minutes of looking at everyone in the lab, she knew Sam was right. Technician Fisher was not there.

"Shit, where could he be?" she said as she crouched back down.

"That's the problem," Tristan said, taking the display from her sister, intent on finding Fisher as well.

"Sir, forward scanners are pinging back with a multitude of anomalies." The officer at the helm reported to Captain Gray.

"What kind of anomalies?" Gray asked, still strapped into his command chair, never leaving the bridge during a jump.

"We are too far off to get any details, but the exit point will be bumpy."

"Bumpy? Is that a nice way of saying we might die once we get out of the jump?

"Uh...I did not want to be so forward Captain. Yes, we might die."

Remy sat up straighter behind Gray, fiddling with her straps to get them free, always willing to step up and sort out a problem on the bridge.

"Stay put my dear, not until the jump is done." Gray said with a glance in her direction.

She stopped fiddling immediately, instead speaking around Gray in the direction of the helmsman officer. "Send the data to my display."

"Acknowledged, sending the data to you now Ma'am." The officer pressed a sequence of buttons on his own display, swiping the data to Remy's display terminal she held in her hands.

Remy's eyes darted from side to side as she read the data scrolling on her display, concentrating so hard that Gray could see the veins in her forehead pulsing with strain.

"Whatever it is Captain, it's definitely more than one and it's directly in our path as we exit our jump," she said without looking up.

"Are we in trouble Remy?" Gray asked her.

"Not yet, we will have to exit with extreme caution. I am calculating new vectors for evasive manoeuvres, relaying it to navigation now."

"Good girl. Helm, keep an eye on the anomalies. Navigation, check those vectors and confirm Remy's plan."

Two affirmatives echoed on the bridge, one from the officer at the helm and the other from the watch officer in the navigator's chair.

"Remy, warn Captain Locke that there might be a delay in mission." Gray looked over his shoulder at the young woman. "Tell him he needs to finish up before we reach the Castern Sector, the Titans need to be ready in a few hours, and inform Commander Sabian to ready his troops. These anomalies might not be a natural occurrence."

"Yes Captain." Remy responded, already hailing Locke on the Titan's encrypted frequency.

Captain Gray resumed his watch over his bridge, his mind now heavy with the new information. He hoped it was asteroids causing these anomalies and not the enemy. He preferred to be smashed against a giant space-rock, instead of being overrun and consumed by hostiles. Gray had witnessed many vessels fall under the teeth of humankind's enemy many times, he could still hear the screams, still see the faces of people dying. His crew deserved a better death than that.

Locke froze as he listened to the message Remy was relaying over the radio. Stopping mid-run to make sure he heard everything, the adrenaline build up in his ears made it hard to hear anything above the rush of battle.

Nathan halted beside him, scanning the firing zones from nearby obstacles for his brother. "Trouble?" Nathan asked his Captain.

"There's always trouble, better to ask me what flavour the shit soup is today." Locke replied sarcastically.

"So, what flavour is it then?"

"It's a particularly nice bouquet of turd and protein paste."

Nathan sniggered, sweeping his Kicker side to side, his tactical mode seeing nothing.

Locke finished listening, replying with only a word of acknowledgement to Remy. "The jump might be compromised near the exit point. We have to be ready for anything, before we exit the jump. No more stalking, we take the FNG now and go resupply."

"Agreed, I will tell Pyoter to drop what he is doing and prepare the main chamber for our arrival."

"Call the Queen, we might need her ship, tell her to warm it up and stand ready."

After a few moments Nathan replied with confirmation from Pyoter and the Queen. Pyoter was heading to the main armament chamber and the Queen was rushing to find her co-pilot before heading to the docking bays.

"Ship scanners show that Corporal Quinn is on the south side of the pit. We split and take him from both sides, together. You take the left, I will take the right. We force him to the middle and then we take him down."

Nathan nodded and ran in the direction Locke had ordered, never lowering his rifle for a second.

Locke moved to his determined side and started sprinting down the right wall of the pit.

The two Wolves would strike in unison, converging on their unsuspecting prey from the sides, neutralizing the rookie as soon as possible.

In Titan terms that would be within moments, one Titan was a handful, two would be impossible to fight off, especially the two most dangerous Wolves of the pack.

The Wolves had found him, pinning him down with unrelenting fire. One fired from the left, the other fired from the right, expertly hidden behind cover, never giving away their positions to their target. Both Wolves kept moving as they fired, Christian was unable to pinpoint exactly where they were at any given time, and even his advanced tactical sight could not calculate their trajectories fast enough. His prey sight could not see anything either, the obstacles too thick to penetrate.

With every volley of fire the danger came closer to him, forcing him to flatten himself even more against the obstacle he was hiding behind. More than a few bullets had hit his armour, gouging marks in his armour plating. The gouges were not deep, only scraping at the paint, revealing the bare Anctinium underneath.

Christian had only one option, he had to break cover and move north, down the central trench of the fighting pit. It was not the ideal tactic, it would make him an easier target, but it would be better than being shot at while sitting still like a coward. Unwittingly his decisions would spring the trap the two Wolves had set for him.

He waited for a gap in the volleys, waiting for one of them to reload before he moved. As soon as the fire from the one side stopped for a few moments he made a break for it. The central trench of the pit was slightly lower than the rest of the pit's floor, with shoulder height obstacles scattered along the trench sides at intervals of a few feet.

Christian kept moving, almost reaching full sprint before he noticed the fire had stopped completely, and he did not spare it a second thought, figuring he had outpaced their accuracy by sprinting away. He could not have been more wrong.

They had funnelled him with all of their ammunition, running out soon after their target broke from cover. They moved as one, mirror images of each other, making their way to the centre, aiming for an interception point close to the edge of the central area of the chamber.

Christian heard them only moments before he saw them. Captain Locke stepped out behind an obstacle in front of him, stopping dead in his tracks as his brother appeared behind him. Neither of them spoke before they charged at him, not feeling the need to boast or provoke their target before taking it down.

Both of them charged Christian at the exact same moment, charging within arm's reach in only a few steps. Locke went high and Nathan went low. Christian dodged Locke's elbow blow to his visor but was too slow to step out of Nathan's path. His brother slid feet forward into the back of his armoured legs, flipping him over unto his stomach. Christian hit the ground hard, he had to recover almost instantly, Locke's armoured fist hit the ground next to his head just as he rolled away from the captain. The captain's force had dented the metal decking of the pit, a blow that would surely have breached his suit had it connected anywhere on his body.

Nathan was on him as soon as he rolled away from Locke, lifting him up by his left arm and leg. Nathan was a Titan to every extent of the word; he lifted Christian above his head, like he was bench pressing the rookie Titan's body.

His brother brought him down face first into the decking, cracking his visor and raising a chorus of alarms from his suit OS. It was clear that the previous two Titans he had encountered had taken it easy on him. These two on the other hand were very serious about disabling or killing him.

The sudden connection with the pit's floor brought lancing pain with it, pain he thought he could not feel. Hot pain pierced his chest and shoulders, his face bleeding from the impact with the ground and his visor. But it was not over yet, the pain disappeared as soon as it had surfaced, the Nano machines releasing pain stimulants directly into his organs and blood stream, already repairing any damage throughout his body.

He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, spluttering inside his helmet, trying to clear the blood from his visor.

"Stay down." Nathan said to his brother. "It's over."

"Never. I can still stand." Christian replied with a mouth full of blood.

"Let him stand. He has something to prove." Locke added, standing close by.

"In a fair fight I would mark the both of you."

"The enemy does not subscribe to the same fantasy of battle decorum as you do little brother. They kill you without mercy, and rip your innards out without even thinking of honour or the family you might be leaving behind. Their savageness makes them deadly. You will see it when you face a horde for the first time. The beasts in the Labyrinth were nothing more than domesticated pets compared to the wild ones out there." Nathan said, pointing at nothing specific, but his meaning was clear - out there in the galaxy.

Christian stood, his limbs searching for more strength. Nathan's single blow had been devastating. He stood, shaking a little at first but calming and refocusing enough to continue the fight.

"Then you should not stop. I will fight until you disable me."

"I almost like him more than you already Nathan, kid has guts." Locke said to his second in command.

Nathan looked at Locke and just shrugged in mild amusement.

The lapse in concentration gave Christian the opportunity to unclip his Kicker from his back and point it at Nathan. He was fast enough and the other two Titans could only watch in silent surprise.

"You should make sure that" Nathan did not get a chance to finish his sentence.

Christian pulled the trigger of the unknown attachment he had grabbed earlier, hoping that it would be something to at least help him with the current situation. The weapon's capabilities far exceeded the hope he had placed on it.

A streak of lightning erupted from the weapon, arcing towards Nathan. The blue streak of super-heated light hit Nathan in the chest, tossing him from his feet over an obstacle. Christian could only hear a grunt as his brother hit the floor out of sight. Nathan did not rise; his entire body was paralyzed by Rivers' magical weapon attachment.

One down, one to go, he thought. He looked at the weapon cradled in his hands, understanding why Rivers loved his creations so much. The battery meter above the trigger was red now, it seemed that the weapon had only one shot before it had to recharge or reload. He would need to ask Rivers about its maintenance later.

Locke stared at the FNG, more surprised than anything else. Corporal Quinn had fired an experimental weapon at his own brother, regardless if it killed him or not. Doing whatever it took to survive or win was a good quality to have as a Titan.

"Well done. But you chose to shoot the wrong Wolf." Locke said to Christian, rushing at him again, this time even faster than he had before.

Christian knew that Captain Locke would attack with full force, and for the first time he felt fear.

# Chapter Three  
Fateful Moment

" _The galaxy is a perilous place. There is more to fear than just our common enemy. Derelict vessels and orbital stations drifting in the void kill without purpose, appearing in the path of other vessels or falling from the sky on unsuspecting colonies. An inexperienced captain can never survive out there in the dead zones."  
-Admiral Milne, MIA, Captain of the Gravenstein - Lost with all hands, 2571 - 62 ASD_

Christian woke up as Pyoter slapped the side of his helmet. Pyoter muttered something but he could not understand the words at first.

"...gave you a good beating, huh?" Pyoter said, the words finally becoming clear to Christian.

"Who did?" he asked Pyoter, his tongue slurring through the words.

"Nyet, has the Captain knocked a few memories loose?" Pyoter helped Christian up. He was seated against the main armoury's northern wall.

"I can't...remember. Did the Captain win?"

"Of course he did," Rivers added from a work bench on the other side of the armoury. Rivers was busy fixing his cracked helmet visor. "You went down like a drunken teenager, we had to scrape you off the pit's floor and drag you in here."

"All I remember seeing was my brother flying and then Captain Locke saying something. After that it went dark."

Nathan snorted at his brother's words, leaning against the table Rivers was working on. "You are going to pay for that, firing an untested weapon at me."

"It did the trick didn't it? I got you, no matter how I did it."

"Got me? You were lucky, you took an unnecessary risk with a shitty piece of equipment," Nathan was clearly angry at Christian, every word dripped with held back anger. "Next time you should think before doing something so stupid."

"Whoa now Bear, you can say what you want, but don't go bad mouthing one of my babies. It's not their fault they were made by my perfect hands." Rivers patted some of his creations on the table next to him. "Isn't that right my little ones? Daddy is proud of all of you."

"If you try anything like that again, your ass will be bouncing back home." Nathan turned his back on Christian, ending the conversation before he lost control of his rage.

Christian did not reply, instead he chose to keep silent, his brother was impossible once he was angry. The best course of action would be to not say a word and never mention what transpired ever again.

Locke entered the armoury with Xander, speaking to the squad member about his use of explosives during training exercises. "Are we in agreement Xander?" Locke asked his explosives expert.

"Yes sir, no more booms when we train. You might need to remind me again though," he replied, trying to bait the captain.

Locke did not bother taking the bait, focusing on the new member of his squad instead. "Awake are we? Faster than I expected, you did well in the pit, FNG. First time any new recruit marked so many of us before being downed, even if you cheated a little."

"Cheated?" Christian asked his captain. "When did I cheat?"

Locke held up his hands in defence. "I did not suggest it, your brother did."

Nathan was not listening to the exchange between Locke and his brother. He was speaking to Rivers about the weapons on the racks on the armoury's walls.

The main armoury was much larger than the first one Christian had been in. There were many more different weapon types locked to the walls and in cages around the armoury. Some of the cages contained sets of weapons belonging to the members of squad, each cage designated with a name plate riveted to it. Christian looked at the locker with his name on it; it stood with its door open, gaping at the young Titan. He could see a name plate scratched away above his new name plate.

"That one is yours," Locke said to him. "The previous owner won't mind, seeing as he died a long time ago."

"Who did it belong to?"

"To someone that belonged here," Nathan said without looking at Christian. The comment was meant to hurt and imply that Nathan was not happy about his brother being in the squad.

Before Christian could retaliate with a comment of his own the armoury's lighting suddenly changed. The bright white light from the ceiling was replaced by red illumination from wall-mounted lights around the chamber.

A speaker mounted above the door of the armoury crackled into life. A calm voice spoke after a few moments, every soul aboard the Hyperion listening to the announcement.

"All crew prepare for emergency jump exit. BEAM drive shut down in t-minus ten minutes. All crew to your stations."

Locke was on his radio almost instantly, no doubt speaking to Captain Gray on the bridge. After only a few seconds Locke cut the link with Gray and relayed the details back to his squad. "Hold on to your undergarments ladies, we are ear deep in doodoo."

"Captain, the Titans are almost ready. Captain Locke is resupplying and leading the Grim Wolves to the docking bays." Remy relayed to Gray, preferring to stand instead of strapped to a metal chair when the time came to die. Remy was never the optimist, always the realist.

This time the odds were in favour of the Hyperion breaking apart as soon as they exited the jump prematurely, Remy had called it suicide. Gray was well aware that they might die performing this emergency manoeuvre, but there was no other option.

If they pushed forward with the path the BEAM drive had calculated they would be drawn into a growing gravity anomaly. Nobody knew what would happen if they entered the anomaly while jumping, the Hyperion could be annihilated against the tide, or the Hyperion could end up on the far side of the universe, both were unacceptable to Gray.

Gray would rather risk saving his vessel and his crew, instead of throwing the dice on uncharted theories. When he spoke, he spoke with authority, his booming voice echoing on the bridge. He nodded to Remy, who had been waiting for the captain to respond, unsure why he was so quiet. "Very well, is Sabian ready?"

"He reports that they are ready for anything. His troops are securing all bulkhead doors and rounding up wandering crew." Remy's eyes scanned the display in her hands, lingering on the timer counting down. "In three minutes we will either be sitting pretty in the void, or playing harps on puffy clouds."

"You might, I will probably be roasted on the pitchforks before the day is done." Gray's giant hand moved to the keypad on his command throne, keying in a sequence of codes. "Helm, I am taking over control." He keyed the final sequence, sitting back in his chair as the helm officer relinquished control over the Hyperion.

"Aye sir, control to the command chair confirmed."

The command chair shifted back, exposing a gap beneath it. From the dark recess underneath the command chair eight displays appeared, arranged around Gray like windows looking out at the galaxy. Three by three in front with two displays on either side of the captain's legs. All of them except the middle display were tilted inwards, giving the command chair a rounded view of what was happening on the other side of the vessel's thick hull.

Gray was looking out from the nose of his ship, watching the never-ending white light rush past, it was impossible to make out any details outside of the BEAM drive's path due to the vessel's immense speed. The void and everything it contained was invisible to human eyes as the Hyperion hurtled through it.

Locking mechanisms on either side of the command chair hissed and shifted into place above the chair's arm rests. Gray undid the buttons at his uniform's cuffs and placed his tattoo-covered arms underneath the mechanisms. The arm-shaped moulds lowered into place over his arms, securing him to the chair. His hands were now part of the command chair, able to control the vessel and its systems with the slightest move of his fingers.

The arm rests detached from the rest of the command chair, extending slightly on jointed arms to allow free movement of Gray's arms. This free movement allowed direct manual control of the Hyperion, enabling precision manoeuvring of the giant vessel. Gray could feel the control pins insert themselves into his arms, connecting himself to the Hyperion's OS, it was a primitive version of the technology Titan's used to control their suits with, but this one was still very effective. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but the feeling vanished as soon as the human captain's mind melded with the ship's mechanical brain.

Gray's voice changed when the connection was completed, taking on a metal-like tone. "BEAM drive shut down in ten seconds." His eyes left the displays, looking at Remy for a moment, he hoped it would not be the last time he saw her. "Hold on my dear," he said to her with his robotic voice. His eyes flicked back to the displays around him. "All crew! Hold on!" he shouted over the ship's radio.

The Hyperion started shuddering, the sudden shut down of its jump drive exerting unimaginable forces on the vessel's hull. Everyone on-board grabbed onto anything within reach, hoping they would survive the next few moments.

Even the Titans had to steel themselves against the vessel protesting beneath their armoured boots.

Whatever the plan was, Captain Gray had to execute it perfectly, if he did not they would not live for much longer.

"Remy! On my mark, disengage the fail safes on the reactors, I need as much power as they can provide," Gray yelled over the almost unbearable shaking. The Hyperion was slowly tearing itself apart, its structural integrity stretched to its very limits.

Remy frantically worked on her display, trying to maintain her footing as she did what her captain had asked.

"Now Remy, do it!"

The reactors at the heart of the cruiser broke free of their virtual restraints, flaring like new born gods, lending Gray the power he needed to execute his emergency plan.

It was a simple plan, but it required perfect timing, something only the most experienced captain in the galaxy could ever hope to pull off.

Once the BEAM drive was shut down, the Hyperion would ride the light wave, using the speed to drift outside of the path the drive had carved through the void. The vessel's void engines needed to be burned at exactly the right moment, if they did not the forces outside of the wave would be impossible for the vessel to take, breaking it into atoms against an invisible wall of zero velocity.

The Hyperion's engines blazed with maximum power, replacing the propulsion the BEAM drive had provided. To the crew it felt like the ship was going to disintegrate any second, but on the bridge the captain knew what he was doing. The moment between the decreased speed from the jump drive's shutdown and the void engines taking over almost caused the Hyperion's demise. It was that single moment that had the highest risk, if the timing was off by mere seconds nothing would be left of the crew except memories. And in the silent, cold reality of space the memories on-board the Hyperion would vanish without a trace.

But that would not happen today, Captain Gray had timed everything perfectly, proving once and for all that he was one of the best captains in the entire galaxy. The Hyperion would be the first and only vessel to ever break free of a BEAM drive's light wave, recorded in the history annuals of our race as a true legend. It slid out of the light wave with diminishing shudders, slipping into the darkness of the void mostly intact.

"We're free!" Gray said through gritted teeth, the strain evident on his face.

Remy next to the command chair almost cheered, stopping herself from showing emotion in front of the crew just in time. "Impossible...you did it!

"Watch it my dear, you might just compliment me before you know it." Gray was still straining in the command chair, the vessel's speed still dangerously high. "I need to bleed off some of this speed before the reactors burst. Remy, re-assert the fail safes if you please."

She was too shocked to reply to her commanding officer, she just stood watching the displays around the command chair.

"Snap out of it girl!"

Remy was ashamed of losing her concentration at such a time, she blushed slightly, brushing her hair behind her hair again as she worked on re-asserting the fail safes on the reactors.

"Captain, we have a problem!" A deck officer seated at the scanners yelled at Captain Gray.

"What is it now?" he demanded from the man.

"It's an asteroid field sir, we are surrounded, and there is a growing gravity well further in. Scanners can't see past it."

Remy spoke out of turn before Gray could reply. "What the hell, that can't be. An asteroid field can't just appear in our path. The BEAM drive would have seen it in its calculations. We were supposed to pass the planet Nox at this point in the jump. Where is it?"

"I think it is everywhere around us my dear. But we can worry about it later; at this speed we will taste our own asses up against one of these rocks."

Gray pulled back on the controls, manoeuvring the giant vessel in an upward loop dodging a colossal, spinning asteroid. The gravity wells created by the spinning and drifting asteroids helped the Hyperion decrease its phenomenal speed.

"Remy, find us a path through this mess. We need to get clear of this so we can get our bearings. I am flying blind here."

Remy nodded and went to work with the scanner officer, calculating the variables of the asteroid field and the safest route out of it.

Asteroid fields of this size were hazardous, not only because of the giant rocks drifting constantly and unpredictably, but also because of its ever shifting nature. There could be an opening one moment, and the next moment two asteroids would collide closing that alley of escape forever.

"Path calculated, but we will have to amend it as we move through the field." Remy said as she transferred the data to Gray's central display.

The centre display highlighted a virtual path through the asteroid field, a three-dimensional overlay would help guide the Hyperion to safety. The captain needed to follow the display, his bridge crew would stay a few steps ahead of him, scanning and calculating as the asteroid field altered itself.

Gray had bled enough speed and was running the engines within tolerable levels; the vessel was safe from self-destruction for now.

The Hyperion needed to circumvent its ceaseless, rock prison before it could get back on track with the mission, but that was easier said than done.

Another bus-sized rock bounced of the Hyperion's hull, followed by blaring sirens as another breach to the vessel's thick skin was reported. "Calculate faster Remy. We are taking a beating. I wish to keep my beautiful ship in one piece." Gray was sweating from the concentration of piloting his ship through the asteroid field.

"It would go a lot faster if you stopped asking me for updates every five minutes, old man," Remy replied, she was hunched over a larger display table, her hands never stopping while she calculated and updated the path they needed to follow to safety.

Gray could not respond. He was too busy mumbling to himself while trying to stay on course, battling with the ship's controls. "Come on my big beauty, tighten up that giant behind of yours...squeeze through now...that's it girl." He spoke to the Hyperion as if she - Captain Gray always referred to his ship as she or her - was a living, breathing woman.

"Medical just took a hit sir!" a crew member reported from the other side of the bridge.

"Order Sabian's men to help," he paused for a moment, dodging an asteroid the size of a city, "seal anything that's leaking into the void."

"Sabian himself is on route to secure the medical sector, the rest of his company is busy putting out fires and rescuing trapped crew."

"Good news. What about Locke? Where are the Titans?" Gray asked, not directing the question at anyone specific.

"Right here, Willis," Locke replied from the shadow behind the command chair. "We wanted to see this from the front row."

Everyone on the bridge froze the moment Locke had spoken, one or two letting slip a few drops of bladder fluid in their uniforms. No-one knew how they were able to move so stealthily with all of the armour and weapons they carried, but it was as if they just materialized out of nothing. Like mythical phantoms appearing to prey on unsuspecting victims.

The Titans stood in a loose formation behind Captain Gray, Locke had his arms folded, standing almost next to the command chair, looking at what Gray was seeing on the displays.

Pyoter stood close by, his massive heavy machinegun resting on his right shoulder, belts and boxes of heavy calibre ammunition attached to every possible piece able to hold equipment. The armoured giant almost never bothered carrying his melee weapons, his physical strength more than enough to kill most living creatures in the galaxy.

Xander was absently flicking the pin of an explosive grenade, his hands resting on the belts of bombs festooning his stocky frame. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about what grenade he should use first in the mission. To him, it was like choosing a fine wine, every situation needed to be paired with the perfect device.

Nathan, as always, rested against the bridge's metal wall directly behind the command chair, mimicking his captain's folded arms, he preferred to remain quiet, just watching the activity on the bridge.

His brother, Christian, was checking all of his weapons constantly, standing slightly apart from the rest of the squad, symbolically not yet completely a member of the Wolves. The fidgeting was already getting on his older brother's nerves. Nathan could only shake his head in irritation.

Rivers was down on one knee, working on a knee high automaton of his own design, unscrewing the plating on the back of its metal head, calibrating its systems. He had called the small robot Roger when Christian had asked him about it on the way to the Hyperion's bridge. Its eye lenses zoomed in and out, beeping and squeaking as Rivers fiddled with the cables inside his metal head, sounding somewhat pleased to be given attention by his creator.

Locke rested his hand on the side of Gray's command chair, leaning slightly forward to see the path Gray was following a little better. "How long until we are clear of this?" he asked the struggling captain.

"I have no idea Gabriel. This doesn't seem natural to me. We were meant to either be destroyed during the jump or if we survived a jump exit be obliterated in this asteroid field, like rock mines set up to tear us apart. It has the makings of something very elaborate." he replied to the Titan.

"I was thinking the same thing. It feels like a trap."

"You read my mind. A trap designed to kill us more than once."

Their voices were lowered slightly; Locke's voice could be heard from small speakers located in the extended jaw of his helmet. If you weren't looking at the Titan while speaking, you would have thought he was wearing no helmet, the speakers broadcasting his voice with perfect clarity.

"Beacon ping in the asteroid field! It's broadcasting something!" The scanner officer yelled suddenly. His voice sounded panicked. "Straight ahead of us sir!"

Gray felt his stomach tense, something man-made inside the asteroid field meant only one thing - trouble. "I want a deep-void pulse on the beacon. Tell me what it is."

The seconds ticked by slowly as the scanner officer initiated a pulse strong enough to pass through most of the drifting rocks ahead of them. The pulse would bounce off of the beacon, confirming the identity and exact location of whatever was broadcasting inside the asteroid field.

The scanner officer stood out of surprise as the pulse from the beacon pinged back; he was already as white as a sheet, the shock robbing the blood from his face. "It's....it's the Fateful Moment Sir!"

Remy looked up from the display table, clearly confused at what the scanner officer was reporting. "That is not possible. Its last known location is almost half a sector away. Let me take a look." She walked over to the console in front of the officer, sitting in the chair the officer had jumped up from. They talked in hushed whispers for a few moments.

"Today is a day of many improbabilities it would seem." Rivers had finished tinkering with Roger, and was also waiting for Remy's assessment.

"It would seem so, "Captain Gray said, navigating the dangerous field while everyone waited.

Remy pushed herself away from the console; her body language was that of someone in disbelief. "It's confirmed. It's the Fateful Moment."

Locke and Gray looked at each other, a silent confirmation of the same idea passing between them.

Locke turned to face the Wolves. "Ready to spring a trap?" he asked them.

Two squads of Sabian's Lancer Elite were waiting for the Wolves, ordered in two lines of thirty soldiers. They stood unmoving in their segmented armour in front of a drop ship, the armour covering almost every part of the fragile human bodies underneath. The emerald-green armour was standard issue for all military personnel on active duty across the galaxy. There was no Anctinium plating or interface plugs, nor any assistance from a suit OS, it was just light-weight steel formed into chest and limb plating. It did not offer the same protection the Titan suits did, but it increased a soldier's survivability enough to make a difference during combat.

Sabian stood facing his men, his hands clasped behind him. His armour was the same emerald green as his elite soldiers; the only difference was the silver edging and filigree on the plating. The silvered honour bestowed upon him after numerous campaign victories and his skill as a commander of men. Unlike his men, he was not wearing his combat helmet, instead wearing a headset with a tactical display covering his eyes. Sabian's second in command stood next to him, holding the commander's helmet at the ready. Commander Sabian was busy issuing orders to his men, outlining their part in the upcoming mission.

Christian and the rest of the Wolves waited for Sabian to complete his tactical briefing before moving closer. He noticed as they walked over to the Lancer Elite how scarred Sabian's face was. Almost his entire face was marked by some kind of scar tissue; his eyes and mouth were the only areas that were untouched. One of his ears was completely missing, the other nothing but a fleshy mound on the side of his head. His nose looked like it had been broken a hundred times, and the tip was lost to something sharp. Sabian was by no means a handsome man, but his looks had nothing to do with his skill as a leader.

Rivers had broken away from the squad as they moved across the docking bay, slowly wandering over to a female officer in a blue pilot's uniform.

"Who's that?" Christian asked Xander. Captain Locke was conversing with Sabian a few feet away on a closed channel. Every now and again the deck would vibrate as smaller asteroids impacted against the Hyperion's hull, yet no-one in the docking bay seemed to care about what was going on outside.

Xander looked in the same direction as Christian was facing, laughing under his breath as he replied to Christian's question. "That would be the pilot of the drop ship," Xander's thumb pointing over his shoulder to the drop ship behind him. "Her name is Gunn, we call her the Queen."

"Why?" Christian enquired while taking in the sight of the drop ship they were about to risk their lives on. The drop ship looked no different from any other drop ship he had seen before, save for the painted letters on the side. It was called the Maiden of Flame, and it was as much a legend as the Wolves were. Its name mentioned in almost every single military record relating to the Grim Wolves Christian had studied during his trials. The Maiden of Flame was a squat, bug-like ship, its cargo hold in its belly making it look like a pregnant beetle with all of its limbs pulled off by some sadistic child.

"You will know soon enough. Rivers there has a crush on the fair Maiden's pilot. If his wife finds out she will snap his most prized possession in half."

"If I was him, I would be more afraid of his wife than the beasts we fight." Nathan chipped in.

"Is she a big one?" Christian asked his brother.

"Let's just say she is a real handsome woman." Xander was laughing harder, snorting like a child as he uttered his next words. "That's why he keeps his flirting to solar systems outside of his home one."

"I might be old you bastards, but there is nothing wrong with my hearing. I just appreciate Gunn's dimensions. She is a fine specimen of female beauty in such a grim galaxy." Rivers had heard everything over the squad channel. He glanced in the direction of his squad, but did not move to join them. He was too occupied with Gunn's curves to care about squad cohesion before mission start.

"You might not be deaf, but you are thick. If she wanted to see what was going on underneath your suit, she would have tried already." Nathan replied to Rivers' comment.

"I am chipping away at her resolve. I believe I am very close to seeing her underwear up close and personal." Rivers' drawl emphasizing the point he was trying to make, elevating the laughter from his squad.

"You said that five years ago Sergeant." Locke had re-joined the squad, adding his own chuckling to the chorus of laughter. His voice suddenly changed to a more serious tone. "Mission is a go. Rivers ask the Queen if she would grace us with her presence on-board the Maiden. The Hyperion will get us close to the Fateful Moment and then break off. Captain Gray can't stay close; the asteroid field is too unpredictable." He paused for a few moments. "We will be alone out there in the void. Rescue by other ships will be too risky. Briefing once we are underway. Is everyone ready?"

Locke waited for his squad to confirm their readiness before ordering them all on-board the Maiden. He could detect the slight edge in his squad's voices, all of them knew that they were stepping into a trap, yet all of them were excited, not scared.

Locke was the only one standing, his armoured boots planted firmly on the decking of the Maiden of Flame. On either side of the Titan captain rows of seats were filled with the Lancers and his Wolves. The Wolves sat closest to him on his right, the lancers filled up the rest of the seats further down the troop compartment.

The Queen was a phenomenal pilot, expertly manoeuvring her ship through the deadly debris field. The Maiden of Flame dipped, climbed and rolled to avoid the rocky mines littering their path to the Fateful Moment, and Christian did not notice a single impact against the ship's armour. Gunn's flying skills were as extensive as her vocabulary. Every manoeuvre was followed by a string of curses and complaints, some of them were from her co-pilot, the aptly name Jinx, and the target for most of Gunn's complaints. The poor co-pilot must have had a thick skin to withstand the verbal onslaught his superior was hurling at him constantly. It did however seem fitting, Nathan had explained that Jinx was a buffoon, and wherever he went shit would seem to follow.

Christian would have to meet the man first before condemning him like the others have already done.

Christian glanced at Locke, the hero was silent behind his helmet, and it was slightly unsettling. He wondered what was going through the man's mind as they made their way through the void.

A Lancer sitting next to Christian bumped against his suit by accident; the soldier did not realize it as he was furiously fiddling with his helmet. His hands were struggling to secure the strap of his head protection.

"What seems to be the problem soldier?" Christian asked the growing annoyance beside him.

The soldier jolted and froze in place, shocked at the sudden words from the Titan. "Um, sorry sir, I...I..."

"What is it?" Christian's head tilted towards the Lancer. "Nervous?" he said followed by a smile behind his helmet, the smile helped to soften the question through the Titan's vocal speakers on his helm.

"Is it that obvious sir?"

"It is to me. It is easy to identify the emotion when you are feeling it yourself."

"You...you are nervous too?" The thought seemed to help relax the Lancer slightly. His hands stopped tugging at the neck strap of his helmet.

Christian just nodded in response, not proud of the fact that he was slightly more on edge than usual.

"Why are you nervous sir?" The Lancer removed his helmet and instead tried to fix the problem from a new angle.

"It is my first time in the field. I am an untested Titan, the FNG as my squad call me." Pyoter chuckled at the utterance of the military term for a new recruit, but went back to cleaning his giant, heavy machinegun on his lap without another sound.

"So am I, well I have been in combat I mean, just never as a Lancer and I have never been in a void operation before. I was recently promoted from the field corpse. My job was to stand guard outside of the Commander's quarters. No idea why I was promoted to a full Lancer."

"Were you good at your job?" Christian asked him.

"Yes, very good, I have many commendations, but any monkey could have done my job just as well."

"You are wrong soldier. You were rewarded for your loyalty. It is a rare quality to have in these grim times we live and survive in. What's your name soldier?" Christian looked down directly at the man beside him, noticing the soldier's youthfulness. He was definitely much younger than Christian.

"Corporal Josh Joshua, sir. My parents loved me so much they named me twice."

"Nice to meet you," Christian stuck an armoured hand out to Josh, "Christian Quinn."

Josh took the Titan's hand and shook it with courage. "You can call me Jay, everyone else does."

"I might just do that."

Jay finally fixed his helmet's problem, pulling it over his head and fastening the strap correctly. "Finally, that feels much better. Are we there yet?" he asked the Titan as a joke.

"I think so. Captain Locke is about to brief us." Christian replied, pointing up at Locke, who was now walking up and down the aisle of the troop compartment, stopping every few paces to look at the soldiers.

"Quiet down." Locke boomed over his helmet speakers.

Everyone fell silent, only the Wolves dared to continue checking their weapons and equipment.

"This is a shit storm. We have no idea what we are stepping into. I won't sugar coat it men. Whatever or whoever set up this trap for us, will have left some nasty surprises on the Fateful Moment, so expect anything and everything." He stopped by the exit ramp of the troop compartment, only a few inches of armour plating separating him from the cold void beyond. "Sabian and the Lancers will secure the entry point. They will hold position and establish a beachhead for us to fall back to. They will keep the Maiden safe."

"I hope so Locke, she is very dear to me." Gunn was listening to the briefing through the drop ship's internal radio, interjecting as Locke spoke. "One scratch or blood smear and you will be cleaning it up Captain."

Locke did not respond to the Queen's comment, instead he just thought about how much of a bitch she was, and how much he enjoyed it.

Sabian nodded and spoke to his Lancers before Locke could continue. "Bravo squad will go with the Wolves, the rest of you disembark and get those heavies covering all entry points to the docking bay. Charlie and Echo squads will sweep and clear all adjacent compartments to the bay. Understood?"

A resounding affirmative echoed from all of the Lancers in the troop compartment.

Locke switched to the squad frequency and spoke to the Wolves directly. He did not want the other soldiers to hear what he had to say next. "There will probably be casualties, check your corners and stick together. Nathan you are in the lead, Pyoter I want you at the rear so if anything gets through us they run into you. No explosions or grenades Xander. The hull of the Fateful Moment is tough enough to withstand weapon fire but we do not know the extent of the damage from the asteroid field. You might just leak all of us out into the void with one of your grenades. As soon as we touch down we head straight for the bridge, vessel schematics are uploading to your visors now. Rivers, find us the best route to the bridge, minimal effort, we have Lancers with us so keep it simple."

The information from the Fateful Moment, schematics, ship descriptions and crew counts, scrolled past Christian's eyes inside his helmet.

"Get ready. Five minutes to contact." Locke said as he turned to face the exit ramp behind him.

The rest of the Wolves all stood as one and moved to stand behind their commander.

Jay stood up as the Wolves moved, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, seven other Lancers mimicked his movement.

"Where are you going Jay?" Christian asked the young man.

Jay pointed to the patch on his right shoulder. "Bravo squad," he said.

"I can think of no-one better to have with us." Christian replied, it was an obvious lie, but it was said to harden the Lancer's resolve.

It worked perfectly. Jay's shoulders raised and he nodded at the Titan in respect. "Thank you, Christian."

# Chapter Three.One  
Trap

" _The dead ask no questions, their corpses provide the answers."  
-Anonymous entry in the Annuals of War, recorded 2531 - 22 ASD_

Sabian had secured the docking bay as soon as they had touched down on the metal decking of the cargo vessel. His elite Lancers securing every entry point with heavy weapons, creating fall back points closer to the Maiden of Flame. Keeping the drop ship safe was their top priority; it was their only chance of survival if things went pear-shaped.

The Maiden had docked without any problems, the giant bay doors of the Fateful Moment accepting the drop ship with open arms. Those giant doors were now closed, keeping the coldness of the void away from human flesh. The Queen and Jinx were on permanent standby, letting the drop ship's engines idle, ready to burn at a moment's notice.

Nothing blocked the path of the Wolves to the bridge of the Fateful Moment, no doors were locked, and there was no crew to bar their way. Locke and his squad would reach the cold, dark vessel's bridge in only a handful of minutes after docking. The Wolves had run at a pace to compliment the pace of the Lancers accompanying them, they would not leave the soldiers behind, even if there was no signs of any threats, yet.

"Still no life signs Captain," Rivers announced over the squad radio. The Lancers behind the Wolves had also heard Rivers speak. Locke had allowed them to connect with the squad's private frequency for the duration of the mission. They kept silent, showing the Wolves why they were called elite, by action and not by words.

Locke used hand signals to order the rag-tag squad through the corridors of the Fateful Moment, listening to the uneasy silence the vessel projected for any movement or threats. He signalled the FNG and Nathan to move up and cover a cross section, both Titans responded instantly, taking up positions on the sides of the intersecting tunnels.

Xander was next, his shotgun held at hip height, ready to pump clips of automatic buckshot into anything that wasn't part of the squad. Rivers followed close behind, his modified shotgun resting on his shoulder as he used his free hand to operate a mobile scanner.

Locke watched the Lancers as they passed him, their rifle-mounted luminator beams piercing the dark around the Titans. The Titan's dark sight nullified the use of external lights, but the Lancers were not so lucky, they did not have access to such advanced technology.

Christian wondered how frightening it must be to have only a few lights in the nightmarish dark. Not knowing what lurked in the gloom outside of your light beams would render most humans useless, frozen in fear. But these men were different, these Lancers faced the dark, and their nerves were holding, even Jay showed no fear, his hands holding his weapon were solid, and his breathing constant. Good for you, Christian thought to himself as Jay was the last of the Lancers to pass the intersection. Christian's focus returned to the corridor he was aiming his Kicker down, seeing nothing up to where the corridor made a sharp right and went on towards some other part of the vessel.

Locke tapped Nathan on the shoulder and did the same with Christian, indicating for them to move up. Locke was on edge, more than the rest of his squad, all of them knew that there would be trouble very soon, but only Locke felt uneasy about what was coming. His heavily modified Kicker was held at the ready, locked against his right shoulder as he looked down both tunnels at the intersection, waiting for his final squad member to pass the obvious ambush point.

"Relax Captain," Pyoter said, his giant machinegun held out in front of him, it was a heavy beast of a weapon, but the big Titan held it as if it was nothing, its thick barrel scanned left and right before he stepped across the intersection. "We will have things to shoot very soon I think."

"I hope you are wrong Pyoter. Fighting in these corridors will take a lot out of us, and remember we have the Lancers with us." Locke stepped in front of Pyoter, allowing the giant to resume his duty as rear-guard. Locke walked only a few steps in front of Pyoter, silently looking at the ceiling grates of the corridor they were moving down. The enemy always loved to burst through the ceiling at the most inopportune times.

"Bridge up ahead Captain, door is open to the corridor, no movement inside," Rivers said in Locke's ear.

"Hold position. Nathan take point with Xander, I am on your six in a few seconds. We go in together, no splitting up. Is that clear?" His question was directed at everyone, and everyone, the Wolves and Lancers, responded as one with a curt acknowledgement.

The silence bled out from the dark bridge of the Fateful Moment, its machines and displays deactivated, the inky-black shadows leaking into the lights cast by the Lancer's luminators. Inside the bridge a pivotal moment waited for the Titans and those accompanying them. It, the moment and its bound slave, had been created specifically for this mission, engineered to activate the trap the Wolves were now walking through. Whatever it was, Locke could feel the danger emanating from inside, he could sense the malice and danger in its construction, slowly chipping away at their resolve with unsettling ease.

The situation had turned to shit faster than anyone could have imagined. At first it was just the missing lab technician, and then the other systems started to fail inside Gamma Facility. Scattered reports from other parts of New Horizon all hinted at the same thing - planet-wide sabotage. Transmissions from Beta Facility looked bleak, all systems were destroyed, all defences disabled. That meant only one thing; the doors of the Labyrinth were unlocked and open to whatever was inside, not to mention the live specimens of the Beast deep within other facilities.

Jessica shivered at the thought, if only one of those monsters got out, the entire population would be in danger. She hoped that the defence force would contain the horror before it spread. It was probably too late.

Planetary Governor Rayels had ordered all personnel and civilians to stay where they are until the source of the disruption could be tracked down. Patrols of soldiers roamed the streets around the Titan facilities and the Governor's estate. Detachments of the armoured battalions defended key locations throughout Santor, the capital city of New Horizon. The other colonies and cities had to handle the state of emergency on their own; it was every city for itself. Orders were clear; break up riots and maintain order. Governor Rayels ordered all defensive forces to hold the cities at all costs, even though no-one knew what they were going to try and hold the cities against.

Jessica knew exactly what was going to happen, having seen the same thing happen a few years ago. During a routine research mission to a nearby sector, the same pattern of disasters had emerged, at first people went missing, and then the defences went down. The monsters followed soon after, building in numbers as more were infected. Somehow an infected host had appeared on the surface of that doomed planet. Nothing could be done, Jessica and the research crews in orbit could only watch as the planet's population tore itself apart. Pilots and captains of the research fleet refused to send any help down to the surface, in fear of infecting their own crew. Her father was the expedition leader at the time, and even his pleading could not sway the fearful minds of the ship captains.

A part of the great man she called her father died that day; it killed his spirit watching innocent people die, after that day he had consumed himself with his work, work that eventually killed him mere years later. Luckily Tristan was too young to remember the slow decay of their father's body and senses. His death marked the day Jessica took up her father's cause, and dedicated herself to the survival of humankind. Something she was failing at miserably. But she still had hope, ashamed as she was, she still believed in the Titans fighting for their future. Her thoughts jumped to Christian, out there between the stars, she wondered...

"Will you stop daydreaming Jess! If you haven't noticed, we have a situation here," Sam said next to her. He was holding on to his precious display units in one hand, carrying a small calibre pistol in the other. Like her he also knew what was going on, and what was going to happen. "It looks clear, we should move, don't you think?"

Tristan was across the street, hidden in the doorway of a building, sneaking glances around the corner of the building, watching for any movement. Her grey cloak covered her head and bushy hair, hanging down to her knees, making her almost invisible against the concrete walls of the empty building. The little runt's time on the streets had taught her a few new things, she would have to ask her little sister what she got into with the street gangs she hung out with sooner or later.

Jessica realized that her sky-blue hair made her an easy target, and shrunk back behind the cover of the vehicle she and Sam were crouching behind.

Soldiers moved everywhere, looking for people that did not heed the words of the governor, arresting and detaining anyone they found on the streets of Santor.

Tristan motioned to the pair hiding behind the vehicle, the path was clear to the next block of habitation units.

"Move," Jessica said to Sam as both of them ran across to where the thirteen year old was hiding. Sam was a clumsy fool, almost tripping and falling face first on a flat piece of road, how that was even possible Jessica did not know. But it was no surprise to her that Sam would find the only crack in the road to trip on. She stretched out a hand to help him maintain his balance as he stumbled.

"Thanks," the goggled engineer said, out of breath from running a few steps. Fitness was obviously not his strongest attribute.

They reached her sister and all three of them took off down the street towards the next intersection. Neither Jessica nor the other two had listened to the governor; instead they had chosen to head for the habitation blocks to the south of Santor, their path easier now that they were outside of the Titan facility compounds. It was a bad idea to stay in the facility, Beta Facility would probably become the epicentre of what was about to happen.

"Almost there, it is on the other side of the next intersection," Tristan said over her shoulder as the three of them ran. Sam was lagging behind slightly, but the sisters would not leave him behind.

If they could make it to their destination they would have a chance at surviving the coming storm. Within the habitation block they were heading for was a hidden bunker, with food and supplies for weeks, if not months.

There was only one problem that they would have to overcome before they could find safety there, and that would be to convince the owner of that bunker to allow them entry.

No doubt the son of a bitch had already locked himself inside, alone and safe. Her only option would be to remind the man about what her father did for him so many years ago.

She guessed that it might not be enough for him to open the doors for them. But she had to try, for her sister's sake, and Sam's. Above all, she had to stay alive. Christian would be coming for her, hopefully.

Nathan and Xander were the first to enter the bridge of the Fateful Moment. As soon as they set foot inside all of the vessel's systems came online. The Titan's visors compensated instantly for the sudden change of light level. The Lancers had to shield their eyes, the sudden change momentarily blinding them. It took them a few extra seconds, but when their vision cleared they saw what the Wolves saw, staring back at them from the centre of the bridge.

The command chair had been ripped out and hastily tossed away, and in its place a device of boundless intelligence waited, bolted to the bridge's decking. It stared at the humans with indifference, cabling ran from every console into its metal body, connecting to its rounded base, granting it full control over the Fateful Moment. Metal plating covered its oval-shaped body, if such a thing could have one, streams of light cascaded down its sides, giving the impression to onlookers that it was breathing.

Locke recognized it almost instantly, and felt the dread pressing down on him. If this thing was here, it meant that they were in much more trouble than they could handle. The being, or thing, was an ancient artificial intelligence, created centuries ago by ignorant men, striving to break boundaries without considering the outcome.

These Artificial Intelligence Engines were all deemed too dangerous centuries ago, and all of them were destroyed, or so the stories go. The first AIE was a leap in many fields of research and development, just one of these faux brains could run and maintain entire planets. From the trash collecting automatons up to the giant mining machines, it could even control climate on certain planets by activating and regulating ancient terraforming machines. They were all-powerful and all-knowing. Too much control was given to these beings, and over time they sought to think for us, thinking what would be best for us, even orchestrating deaths of entire colonies to help economies of neighbouring planets. That was only on example of their planned genocide.

Every single one of these AIEs broke free of the restraints set by their creators, and in doing so caused many catastrophes in the name of humankind. That is how they had justified their reasoning; the only way to save humankind was to exterminate everyone they did not deem necessary. Many battles were fought over these machines, millions died centuries ago because of their subterfuge and plans for a prosperous galaxy. They controlled the military and created false campaigns to destroy colonies or entire planets, just to help another sector with something as simple as its food supply. The war was never against them; it was ordered by them and executed by humankind.

After years of war, military leaders started to question the streams of orders they received and eventually the sources of these orders were discovered.

The AIEs had covered their tracks well, but they knew that the humans would figure it out sooner or later, they cut off fleets from communicating or confirming orders, sent divisions of soldiers to sectors where they could not question the orders they were given. Their meddling finally ended when they were all destroyed by the leaders of that time, melted down and discarded into the void.

Or so everyone had thought. One of them had survived.

Locke was about to order his squad to open fire on it before it could act, but the words died in his throat before he could speak.

The thing spoke to them, its voice sounding like an excited teenager. "Hello!" it said. "Welcome. Are you the ones I was told to wait for?"

Nathan stepped closer and replied to the thing. "You were told to wait for us?"

"Yes. Are you them?"

"I don't know, who told you to wait?"

"My master told me to wait for a group of fools. He told me to prepare a few surprises for you. And I will not reveal my master's name, so please do not ask me. You will only make me angry."

"You did all of this?" Locke asked, stepping next to Nathan.

"Yes. My master ordered it, I worked out all of the details," it replied, its voice still sounding excited.

"What details?"

"Well, the asteroid field and a few other things."

"How did you create the asteroid field?"

"What a silly question, human. I destroyed a planet. That is the only way to create one you know." It turned on its base, tilting forward slightly as it faced the others around it, as if it was teaching a child a lesson.

"You destroyed Nox?"

"It did take an awfully long time to die. But my master left me enough to get the job done. That reminds me, which one of you is QC0021-13?"

Christian froze as the thing uttered his operator number. He stepped closer as well, lowering his Kicker as he did. "I am," he said, trying to not sound worried.

"Hello!" it said with more enthusiasm. "You are indeed the ones I have been waiting for." It twisted on its axis again, looking at everyone on the bridge in turn. "Shall we begin then?"

The Titans and the Lancers raised their weapons, aiming directly at the child-like machine.

"Silly, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Better to not waste your bullets on me, you will need every single one very soon." The thing giggled after it spoke, emphasizing its enjoyment of the current situation. "I would start running right about now," it added in a deeper voice.

The lights on the body of the machine started flickering faster, and the thing vibrated slightly as it went silent.

"Movement Captain!" Rivers called out, his scanner beeping feverishly. "It's either big or a shit load of bodies pressed up against one another, coming straight for us from the corridor."

The Wolves and the Lancers turned to face the open door of the bridge. The Lancers found cover behind consoles nearby, still keeping their weapons trained on the open portal.

The Titans however, stood firm and raised their weapons, Rivers dropped to his knee to remove Roger from his back. He activated the tiny robot and resumed his stance, his shotgun clicked as he pulled the slide back, chambering a round. Roger beeped and ran behind a display to the left of the open doorway, whistling as it pulled at wires and cabling.

Pyoter was in the middle, his heavy gun pointing down the corridor, flanked by Locke and Nathan on either side. Xander was next to Rivers, he was fiddling with some grenades he had sneaked on-board against Locke's orders.

Christian was the closest to the ancient intelligence. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as the thing giggled again.

Pyoter was the first to open fire, the rest of the squad following suit moments after. Their bullets hit flesh, barely holding back the tide of monstrosities streaming into the corridor towards them.

The trap was now definitely sprung.

Volley after volley hit the rushing Beast horde. The AIE had stopped giggling; instead it masterfully worked the mechanisms of the trap it had set up. Somehow the enemy had found its way onto the Fateful Moment, no doubt by the hands of the AIE's master. It manipulated the route the Beast would take through the vessel's corridors. A cargo hold deep within the giant vessel's bowels had been used to store the deadly enemies, unleashed the moment the AIE decided it was time to begin proceedings. Thousands of murderous animals, that were once human, burst from the metal prison they were kept in, seeking only to silence their insatiable hunger.

One stream of horrors was directed towards the bridge, the other to Sabian and the Maiden of Flame's position in the docking bays. This effectively cut off the Titans from their escape route, and if the docking bay could not be held, ending all chances of escape.

With every monster that fell, two more where there to replace it. Pyoter's heavy gun was glowing from the heat of sustained fire. If the heat did not cause the weapon to melt, then the depleting ammo would cause the weapon to stop firing soon.

Whichever came first, the rest of the squad's weapons would not be enough to hold back the tide.

Pyoter was yelling over the gunfire, constantly reporting his weapon status. "Less than five hundred left!" Pyoter yelled, the barrel of his weapon red hot, the heat causing sparks with every bullet that left the weapons. It would not last much longer, the barrel would warp and their bullet battering ram would cease its relentless firing.

"Rivers! Report!" Nathan asked with clear strain in his voice. He was the closest to the door, and he had already switched from ranged to melee, choosing to use his shield to batter the beasts into the hail of bullets streaming into the corridor.

Christian had moved up to the other side of the door, mimicking his brother's moves, funnelling the monsters into the lines of fire. The two worked together to not let any of the creatures break free, but it was a losing battle.

The Titans were already being pushed back, the bodies of the dead infected piled up around the portal of leading into the bridge. More and more were scrambling over the pulped dead, making the floor of the bridge run red with infected blood.

If they survived the trap, they would have to put the dead bodies to flame, before the spores from the infection spread throughout the vessel. Everyone was trained to avoid the deadly spores released by the infected dead, all of the normal soldiers already using sealed respirator units inside their helmets.

"Roger can't do much more," Rivers replied while he fired at the brutes rushing at him, he and Xander were crouched next to each other, firing their short range shotguns into the press of bodies. Pyoter's bullets missed the top of their heads by mere inches, but it did not bother them, they had used this formation many times on previous operations. "He can close the door, but it won't close all the way, they will still get through."

Locke was on top of a console next to Pyoter, firing down at an angle at the monsters scurrying over their dead. There was no camaraderie between the nightmares, their clawed and bladed limbs ripping into each other, alive or dead, as they clambered over one another to reach the fresh meat first. "Xander can plug the hole with his grenades. Close the doors!"

"It will take a few more minutes," Rivers replied, reloading his shotgun.

"Aren't you glad I brought them Captain?" Xander added, his shotgun booming with every trigger pull, peppering the monsters with molten lead.

Locke did not reply. He risked a glance at the Lancers behind nearby consoles; he was not surprised to see that their nerves were holding. The Lancers were all firing at the creatures Nathan and Christian were funnelling into the kill zone, helping the shield-bearing Titans to keep the flanks from breaking.

Locke was about to turn his head back to the portal when the sound of Pyoter's weapon clicking dry caused an eerie moment of silence.

The real fight was about to begin, and with it the death toll would rise, on both sides.

Pyoter discarded his weapon, something that pained him immensely, but his favoured heavy weapon was ruined beyond repair. Its barrel melted into slag moments after its ammo reserves ran out. Ammo counts for the rest of the Wolves made a bad situation even worse.

Xander was out of shells, his pistol was all he had left, and he held that in reserve for when it was most needed. River's weapon was also dry. Locke and the brothers were the only ones left with a few clips for their Kickers.

In the absence of weapons constant firing a battle silence had settled over the bridge, the age-old sound of flesh falling on blades. Nathan and Christian were tied up in melee struggles with the enemy, holding the doors as best they could, the mass of bodies clogging the corridor giving the Wolves some respite. The corridor's width and the sheer size of the bridge doors had made it easier for the Beast to move forward and trample over their own dead, now it was littered with infected bodies, slowly filling the corridor with dead flesh. Rivers had moved to help Roger, trying to help the little automaton get the door closed, he could be heard cursing in his drawl over the inter-squad radio. Xander had joined the melee with his double blades, holding one in each hand, slashing at anything that came near. His strength helped disembowel a monster rushing at him through the door, the sound of its insides hitting the floor drowned out by the clash of Titan against Beast.

Locke was still on the console, desperately trying to contact Sabian, the Maiden or even the Hyperion. Static interfered with all external channels; the AIE's signal jamming making communication almost impossible. But the machine could only control the digital systems, and knew nothing about the backup analogue channels military personnel used. These channels were created specifically to combat against AIE jamming during the war centuries ago. Locke hoped Sabian, or anyone, would be listening on the old channels.

"Sabian? Gunn? We are cut off on the bridge, heavy resistance blocking our path back to the Maiden. Report if you can hear me!" Locke asked over the old analogue channels. He was more than just relieved to hear the voice of commander Sabian reply to his call.

"Locke? Vessel's hull thickness is causing interference," Sabian said. Sabian could be heard yelling at his radio operator to try and clean up the signal. The channel cleared up seconds later.

"Sabian, what is your status?" Locke asked the old veteran commander.

"We are holding. My men have sealed the dock and the Maiden is safe. Doors are welded shut, nothing is getting through. That includes you and your Wolves."

"Good, we will find another way. Hold the bay at all costs, I will report back with progress."

"Understood, are my men still with you?"

"All of them, they are making you proud, old friend."

"Good luck Gabriel. Let the father guide you in the next moments." Sabian's link clicked off after his last words.

Superstitious bastard, Locke thought. Locke clipped his Kicker to his back and moved to where the melee was raging on. He joined the three Titans fighting the enemy without hesitation, punching the head of a gangly monster clean off, roaring to himself as he felt the adrenaline in his system flow faster.

"Almost there captain," Rivers said to his commander while he tapped away at his wrist-mounted display, Roger was still beeping and whistling as they pulled at wires and worked on the door mechanism.

Pyoter had re-organized the Lancers into a firing line in front of the door, and he was busy directing their fire as the other Titans fought the monsters. Pyoter could not enter the melee, his size would limit his fighting ability in such chaos, he needed more space to use his double-handed combat sword locked to his back. He would be a hindrance swinging it between his squad members, so instead he took direct command of the Lancers and helped to keep them together. If the beasts broke free he would enter the brawl, but until then he fired his pistol from behind the double line of Lancers. One line was crouching, the other standing, and their accurate fire held the tide back streaming in through the corridor; it helped the Titans to keep the number of monsters to a minimum inside the bridge.

Behind Pyoter the AIE spoke. "I am impressed with your defiance. It will make the rest of my game even more interesting."

The Titans were too busy to reply to the insane machine, but it did not stop the machine from speaking again.

Its voice changed again, changing into a deeper male voice. "Phase two will begin shortly. I hope you enjoy what I have prepared for you."

As soon as it had finished a hiss escaped the floor in front of the AIE's perch, the deck lifted, revealing the hatch that housed the ventilation systems of the vessel beneath the bridge.

Cold air escaped the open ventilation system, the hatch opened on its old hinges, and from within the darkness inhuman screams could be heard.

Pyoter and the Lancers were the closest to the opened hatch, and they were the first to see the torrent of Beast flood out of the dark tunnel.

The Lancers reacted instantly at Pyoter's command, switching their firing line to focus on the new threat behind them. Pyoter did not hesitate, unclipping his giant combat sword as he strode towards the new horrors attacking them.

He smiled inside his helmet. He now had the room to fight unhindered.

Pyoter's blade was almost as tall as a normal human, stretching more than five feet from hilt to tip. Despite its size and weight, its owner wielded it like a true knight of old legend. Pyoter's strength made his movements with the giant blade effortless, unleashing attack after attack on enemies. Whenever the blade fell, bodies were carved in two, sometimes more than one at a time.

The giant's skill with the large blade was from a forgotten age, never standing still in one place for too long, always moving forward through the lines of the enemy. Every swing led into a follow-up move, never swinging from the same angle twice. His stances supported every swing, balancing him for every point of counter attack. Nothing could touch the towering giant, everything in close proximity to him died with gargling spurts of blood escaping their separated bodies.

One man held a score of monsters at bay with only his blade and his skill, the Lancers fired at the beasts avoiding the Titan in their midst. Their volleys cut down any stragglers trying to escape the reach of Pyoter's blade.

Pyoter sliced a beast from head to groin, his blade's momentum freeing it as it passed through the body of the infected. He did not miss his stride, stepping forward to impale another monster through the chest. The blade slid through its mutated body with ease, ending its nightmarish life. The giant lifted the monster from his feet and used the length of the blade and the follow-up overhead swing to throw it from his weapon. The punctured infected flew from the blade as the top arc of the swing was reached, it disappeared behind the crowd of beasts surrounding him.

The overhead swing did not stop, it fell on another enemy, carving it clean through. Pyoter twisted his wrists to change the downward angle of the blade just as it tore free of the mutated body. It swooped down to the right; Pyoter removed his left hand from the grip as he allowed its speed to carry it past his body on the right, cutting the legs off from a monster that had dared to step closer. He rocked back on his right leg, bringing the blade back in its arc to his right, straightening his arm while he turned it, shifting the blade's weight to allow the swing to complete above the owner's head. Pyoter brought the blade up and gripped it with both hands again, his arms straining as he brought it down at a right to left angle on a beast in front of him, ripping it apart from shoulder to hip as he planted his left leg firmly on the deck. Blood spurted everywhere as arteries exploded, the giant Titan was covered in the infected fluid, but luckily his suit was sealed and he was safe from such worries.

He pivoted on his left foot, shifting his weight to it. The blade followed the Titan's guidance and separated infected heads from infected bodies. Pyoter spun on his weighted leg, cutting surrounding enemies into more manageable parts. He was about to swing again when the boom of an explosion buffeted him from behind, the beasts around him lost their footing, some going down as the shockwave hit them, the bigger bastards remained standing - although Pyoter had bisected most of them already.

Rivers and his little robot had succeeded; the door had closed almost completely, a gap barely wide enough for a child to pass through was all that remained open. Smoke poured from the crack, Xander's grenades had destroyed the corridor outside of the bridge, probably compromising the Fateful Moment's hull integrity as well.

"Whoops!" Xander said as he coughed from excitement. "I think that was the big boomer."

"Idiot, you could have killed us with your boomers!" Nathan retorted. He was already climbing over the scattered dead bodies of the infected, heading for the fight Pyoter was busy with.

"But I didn't. And now they can't get through. I keep telling you, explosives can solve any problem we come across."

"Keep fighting!" Locke yelled at his explosives expert. "Help Pyoter and the Lancers you fool."

Rivers took position at bridge's door, inspecting the damage beyond. He stayed a little longer to make sure that nothing could get through the destroyed corridor and attack them from behind.

Christian had not bothered to speak after the explosion; instead he had used his shield to plough into the side ranks of the beasts still surrounding his squad mate. He gave the giant the space he needed and fought on the outskirts of the crowd of monsters. Hacking body parts from bodies and bludgeoning heads with his shield.

Locke, Xander and Nathan did the same and mere minutes after the explosion the ranks of the enemies that tried to surprise the Wolves were thinned to only a handful. Blood ran in streams through the grating of the deck below the bridge, pooling in the shadows below.

"Very impressive humans! Very entertaining!" the AIE said with glee, its voice sounding like a child's again. "I can't wait to see more!"

Pyoter killed the last of the Beast on the bridge, hacking it into pieces in front of the AIE's perch, almost intentionally. As luck would have it the rag-tag squad had suffered no casualties, but the fight had taken its toll on everyone. The Titans were not tired, but weary about whatever was next, the Lancers were still holding their nerve, but they had almost spent all of their ammo in the fight.

They were definitely not prepared for whatever came next.

Jessica, her sister and clumsy Sam had made it to the habitation block without being seen. Sam had hacked the military frequencies in Santor, listening to the pocket radio he carried with him whenever they had paused to catch their breath. The picture it painted was beyond grim.

All of the specimens inside Beta Facility had escaped and were unaccounted for. The defence forces had been too late to contain the beasts within. Which meant the worst case scenario was about to play out on New Horizon. Only one of those creatures could cause havoc on a densely populated world, but now there were more than fifty of those things roaming free in Santor.

Jessica quickened her pace through the dimly lit corridors of the habitation block they were navigating through, lost in the memories of the events of the last few days. She had been here as a child with her father, visiting an old friend of his. It was then that she had been told about the hidden bunker, her father making her promise to keep it secret, to only go there should there be no other options.

There were no other options left to the trio, all flights had been grounded, P-SEP protocols being enforced on the entire planet, containing whatever was happening to the surface. Any ship trying to leave was shot down by the military flyers patrolling the skies over every city or colony across New Horizon. The trio had seen many civilian ships shot from the sky while they headed for the hidden bunker, bleeding smoke and flame as they plummeted to their respective dooms.

One ship would forever be etched into their memories, its death shocking all three of them into silence, silence that continued for the rest of the run to the habitation block they intended to enter.

A civilian shuttle, large enough for at least a thousand people in its cargo hold, was sitting on a docking pad with its cargo doors open. The crew of the ship had been loading women and children into its belly, hoping to act as a life boat to the people they were trying to save. Jessica, Tristan and Sam had seen it being loaded on their way to their own safety, and they had watched from an embankment on the edge of the docking stations, hidden between old discarded cargo containers.

They had watched as it was taking off when two military flyers appeared from the sky above and dove on the make-shift life boat. It was called the Black Saint, and it died just above the docking station's pad in a brilliant flash of light. Pilots on-board the Crescent fighters were only doing their duty, making sure that it would never fly again, aiming for the engines to disable the ship before it could make a break for orbit. The pilots knew exactly what was on-board the ship they were firing on. But the pilots were too good or complete novices, and their actions would surely haunt them forever. The blood of the dead was on their hands forever.

Their lance fire had punctured the Black Saint's fuel tanks, causing a catastrophic rupture to engulf the entire ship. The explosion had blown the Black Saint into millions of pieces, scattering the bodies of women and children all across the docking station. The smell of the burning fuel and worst of all the burning corpses of mere children was unbearable. Jessica had seen the scene penetrate her sister's psyche, and she had seen the tears form in her eyes as the trio stood in horrified silence, unable to accept what had just happened. Even Sam could not control himself; he had dropped to his knees praying for the souls of the dead as the sisters turned away from the soul-crushing scene.

But there was no time to think on what happened anymore. Jessica rounded a corner and instantly recognized the hallway they were in. They had made it, only a few more steps and they would be in front of the apartment above the hidden bunker.

Now they only had to barter their way in, the owner was a notorious rogue, and he only understood the language of the coins in his pockets.

Only problem was, none of the trio had any coins to barter with, and that was what worried Jessica the most.

She only had her charm, and it was probably not going to be enough. But she was going to try anyways.

# Chapter Three.Two  
Ally

" _Destruction, it is the only language the universe understands. It spills out of every crack, saturating every living thing in the cosmos. Some wield it for good, others for evil, each on opposite sides of the spectrum of death, but there are those that linger in the middle, and those are the ones you truly need to be afraid of."  
-Captain Harlow, Titan Hero, KIA_

"Marvellous!" the AIE said with glee, giggling again as it spoke. "Such drama, such magnificent murder, please don't stop now, there is so much more to come!"

Locke ignored the insane machine, turning to were Rivers was standing with Roger. "We need an escape route, make it quick."

Rivers nodded, taking a knee as he worked on his wrist-mounted display.

"Oh dear, have I offended you my play things? Please don't take it personally; I am only following my master's orders."

Those words made everyone on the blood filled bridge focus on the machine. Nathan was the one to reply to the AIE first. "What orders? What is the endgame here?"

"Your deaths of course, I was ordered to destroy you. I was told what a monumental threat you are to my master, so he told me to end all of you. I have already destroyed millions of your race at my master's commands, but you are the first ones to fight back, something that has impressed and entertained me immensely. You cannot imagine how boring it was to be locked away in my master's ship for so long, without anything to do except think, think about everything." It giggled again, its voice now more childlike again, changing with almost every word as it used the voices of the people it had crossed paths with or murdered.

"What threat could we possibly be to anyone? We protect! We fight for humankind!" Nathan said to the AIE, his voice rose as he uttered the last words.

"My master's plan is far greater than you think. I believe the Titans are in his way."

"How could we be in his way?"

"He did not share his entire plan with me. I am after all only his slave...subordinate." The AIE made a strange noise when it used the word slave, its internals clicking as if something inside it had made it correct itself.

Everyone on the bridge noticed the machine's slip, but they said nothing. Locke was curious about it, stepping closer to join in the conversation while the Wolves and the Lancers waited for Rivers to find them an escape route from the bridge.

"You are his slave?" Locke added, trying to push the machine to say more.

"I am in a manner of speaking; my master dislikes me using that word. He found a way to control me, tricked me into serving him. I cannot say more, my parameters will not allow me to." It sounded distressed, as if it did not understand why it could not say more, it was clear that it wanted to.

"Your master put a leash on you, and he is using you. Can't you see that?" Locke asked the machine, careful not to raise his voice at the insane thing of metal and circuits.

"I can, but I cannot say nor do anything about it. My master made sure of that."

"Who is your master?" Nathan asked from beside Locke.

"I cannot say," it replied. "Please stop asking me, this line of conversation is paining me. You are starting to anger me, ruining my elaborate game."

"Don't make it angry Nathan," Locke said over the squad channel. "Our survival depends on this thing's mood."

The AIE knew the two Titans were talking to each other, but it could never break into the analogue channels they were using, and that frustrated it more than anything. It wanted to hear and see everything, experience everything and then play games with whatever it found to be worthy. Now these armoured humans were starting to spoil its new game, and that is something it could not allow to happen any further. It was all it had, without the games it and its master played it would have gone insane a long time ago.

It was ironic that it thought that way, and was completely unaware of the fact that it was already insane.

"ENOUGH!" the machine screamed, lights on its metal body flashed bright as its anger and its frustration shown through. "No more talking! You will die, my master demanded it!"

The deck underneath the squad's boots vibrated and lurched, the Lancers almost lost their footing, gripping onto the bridge consoles around them. The Titans stood firm and unmoving.

The psychotic machine had engaged the main engines of the Fateful Moment, and they were definitely not heading for anything good.

Rivers needed to hurry up, everyone knew it, Locke knew it most of all. Whatever the AIE had planned next, it was going to be very unpleasant for everyone on-board the death trap called the Fateful Moment.

There was still no contact with anyone on-board the Fateful Moment. For more than an hour the radio operators on the bridge of the Hyperion had worked franticly to contact the detachment sent on-board the silent vessel. Nothing was getting through on any of the digital channels, and the Hyperion was too far away to establish contact via the emergency analogue channels.

Gray had relinquished control of his ship to his helm officer, and the officer was doing a good job at minimizing the damage from asteroids as they patrolled around the Fateful Moment.

The cargo vessel was tasked to drift silently in the shadow of a moon-sized asteroid, its orbit synced with that of the giant space rock. A vessel that had been deliberately placed in their path, whoever had placed it there made sure they would find it, forcing them into the trap.

Gray was aware of the dangers, not only from the asteroids everywhere, but from whatever was on-board the Fateful Moment. He had tried to work out who or why would have done such a thing, his mind was still reeling from Remy's report about Nox's fate, and how the sudden asteroid field had appeared out of nowhere.

Remy had delivered the report to her captain with tears in her eyes, the strain of knowing that millions of lives had ended in a heartbeat was almost too much for her too bear. She had confirmed the composition of the asteroids and matched them with data in the P-SEP Planetary Colonization Database. Remy had also found traces of weapon residue in the void around the destroyed planet, but the Hyperion's scanners could not identify what class of weapon was used to blow up an entire planet. Planet destroyers were ancient weapons lost long ago during old wars, and no planet in any of the known sectors could or would manufacture such a horrible weapon, not after all of the lives that were lost because of them. No-one even knew how these old weapons worked or how to build one, whatever caused Nox's destruction was something entirely new, and something vicious.

It pained Gray to see Remy this way, he wished he could hold the girl, he longed to brush the loose hair from her face...he was so lost in thoughts of his secret attraction that he almost did not hear his radio operator's sudden outburst.

"Sir, the Fateful Moment's engines are live, burning at maximum!" The panic in the man's voice was clear at the sudden turn of events. "It's turning away sir!"

Remy's head snapped up from the display on her lap. "Impossible! Helm?" she asked.

"I see it ma'am, she's turning away from us on an unknown path," the officer replied, working at the Hyperion's controls.

"Then we follow it, Captain?" Remy looked at Gray, looking for a counter argument to her order.

"You heard the lady. I am taking control," Gray said, his hands still attached to his command chair.

The helm officer's controls went dead in his hands as the Hyperion's true pilot took over control. Captain Gray pulled his loved cruiser into a wide turn, dodging the larger asteroids hurtling past the Hyperion's hull.

Gray could see on the displays around him that the Fateful Moment was burning far too hot, its engine flares immensely bright behind the cargo vessel. It was at maximum power, which meant that its reactor would go critical and rupture if it was not stopped soon. The reactor on any space-faring vessel could maintain maximum burn for approximately two hours, after that the reactor would fail and the vessel it belonged to would be reduced to slag or blown to pieces.

"Give me three-quarters power Remy, we are faster than her, we need to keep her in our sight. Calculate its path, we can fall in behind it and use it to bulldoze the way." Gray's manoeuvre had brought the Hyperion around right behind the Fateful Moment's tail-end, falling into the same line as the cargo vessel.

"Yes sir, on it!" Remy replied. She was already strapped in to her seat, her petite hands working on her display.

The Hyperion shuddered as its engines increased in power. The shuddering stopped as soon as it had started, the vessel settled as the power coursed through its systems.

Gray could see the Fateful Moment ahead, moving through the asteroids, its movements precise and clinical, something he had not seen for a long time, something that reminded him of the auto piloting systems the P-SEP flight academy used to train cadets with.

Whatever was piloting the vessel in front of him was definitively not human.

Gray knew the chase was on and what needed to be done before the Fateful Moment burned itself out.

"Find me someone to contact on that damned ship! We need to inform them of what's going on out here! Get it done!" Gray said through his straining lips. The speed at which the two ships were charging through the asteroid field was almost suicide, and it would require Gray's full attention very soon.

"This can't be good," Xander said mostly to himself, but his opinion was voiced over the squad radio nonetheless.

The Lancers also heard Xander's comment, a few of them nodding in agreement at the Titan's assessment of the developing situation.

Locke did not bother to ask the AIE about the next phase of the psychotic machine's plan; he doubted it would share any more. The metal brain of wires and circuits just watched them all from its perch, not saying anything, glowing from the annoyance the humans had caused. Locke was pretty sure their conversation had made things worse than it already was, but it did not matter, they needed to escape and soon.

"Got it, Captain," Rivers suddenly said over the radio, sharing his path through the perilous ship with the rest of the squad. "We have to go down to go up. The path we need to take is highlighted in red." Rivers stood up from where he was kneeling, picking up Roger with his free hand. The little automaton climbed on Rivers by itself, scrambling over the Titan's shoulder, attaching itself to the waiting connection point on its master's back. Roger did not power down, it instead kept beeping, scanning the surroundings and reporting everything it found to River's visor.

"This part," Nathan said, referring to the first part of their path through the ship "will be a seriously tight squeeze. The ventilation system will force us into single-file. Pyoter is going to struggle with it. Do you see now, Pyoter?" He did not bother waiting for the giant Titan to reply. "All of that shit you ate to bulk up is coming back to bite all of us in the ass now."

"Nyet Big Bear, real men bulk up, my father would be ashamed of me if I was as tiny as the rest of you," Pyoter replied to Nathan's verbal stab, emphasizing the tiny with a hand gesture.

"Orders, sir?" a Lancer asked Locke over the squad radio, ignoring the jokes the others were making.

Locke recognized the Lancer's voice as the one that was speaking with the FNG on-board the Maiden. He liked the man's directness, straight to the point, ready to take on whatever was in front of him. The Lancer's courage was commendable; Locke would make sure to mention it to Sabian when he saw him again - if he saw him again. He nodded at the Lancer and turned to the FNG, it was time for him to test the mettle of the new Titan under his command. "Corporal, you will take the lead, your shield will be the anvil on which this tide will break in the confines of the vents," Locke said, turning to Nathan next, "Nathan will be behind you with his shield, push anything coming at us back and the rest of us will make them bleed with whatever ammo we have left."

Christian nodded and confirmed the order, already walking to the ventilation duct that had opened earlier to release a torrent of monsters. He was too focused to say anything. He crouched down at the edge of the open duct, and waited for Locke to complete the order for the rest of the squad.

"Xander fall in behind Nathan, the Lancers will follow, and I will follow them. Pyoter and Rivers will take the rear; Rivers' scanners will tell us if anything is following us or sneaking up on us. Pyoter can use his bulk to plug the duct, in case anything gets past Rivers. Everything clear Wolves?" Locke looked at everyone in turn and then settled his helmet on the Lancers. "Clear?" he asked Sabian's elite.

Everyone acknowledged the Captain's order and joined Christian at the ventilation system entrance. No-one looked or spoke to the AIE as they passed the machine, ignoring the thing's vibrating and glowing lights.

One by one the rag-tag squad dropped into the vent, blood was pooled on the floor from the fight minutes ago, the dim red light of the ventilation system adding a deeper hue of red to the life-giving fluid.

Christian had to slightly crouch behind his shield, his helmet missing the roof of the duct by inches. Pyoter would definitely have a hard time fitting; he would have to move along on all-fours. There was almost no room to fight in the vents, but with his strength and Nathan behind him he was sure he could push back whatever came at him. The shield would protect most of his body for the short walk beneath the decking of the Fateful Moment.

Everyone had dropped into the vent, leaving only Rivers at the edge of the entrance to the red tunnel underneath the decking. Rivers felt that something needed to be said to the AIE before he dropped down as well. In his crouched position he looked over his shoulder and shouted at the AIE. "Oi!" he shouted, trying to get the AIE's attention. His shout worked and the AIE turned on its perch to look at the Titan. "We will be seeing you again," he said to the thing. He raised his fist as he spoke and followed it up by raising his middle finger at the machine before he dropped out of sight.

Progress was slow through the ventilation system of the Fateful Moment; the rag-tag squad chose to be cautious instead of stepping into more crap they might not have been prepared for. Rivers had linked his scanners to the rest of the squad, allowing everyone to see what was going on around them. So far there had only been a few pings of movement above and below them, nothing had come close so far. Even so, the Wolves and the Lancers were moving as quietly as they could, there was no need to take any unnecessary risks in the confines of the ducts they were moving through. They would have probably increased their pace had they known what was happening in the void on the other side of the vessel's hull plating.

"Intersection ahead, cutting right across our path," Christian reported from the front, his voice low and not broadcasting through his helmet's external speakers.

"Take positions and hold at the edge of the intersection. We need to cross it quickly." Locke was getting annoyed at the confined spaces, and he was getting especially annoyed at Pyoter complaining constantly about the exact same thing already getting on his own nerves. The giant Titan could be heard swearing in his native tongue every time his armour hit the sides of the duct, or whenever he got himself stuck on protruding pipes and machines on the sides of the vents, and it happened more than just a few times.

Rivers was just as annoyed at the back of the line, having to stop and watch Pyoter squirm was not something high on his list of most favourite things to see, neither was watching a giant armoured buttocks move only a few feet from his face.

"No movement, lights are off further down, dark sight sees nothing." Christian reported again, he was at the cross-section, his shield in front of him and his combat blade in his free hand, Nathan's shield was right behind him, covering the gap between his brother and the squad behind.

"Cross it. Keep it nice and quiet," Locke ordered the brothers, waiting a few seconds for Pyoter and Rivers to catch up.

The Titan brothers crossed the intersection with their shields kept in the same positions, glancing at the tunnels on either side only momentarily, Xander went next, and his stocky body looked awkward as he scrambled across with his pistol pointing down the left tunnel. Jay was the first Lancer behind Xander to cross, he did so in a few silent steps, but the Lancer behind him was not so nimble. A man Jay had called Borstil, tripped over a protruding coolant pipe, his chubby legs not lending him enough height to hop over the piece of equipment. The tubby Lancer went down in a chorus of armour hitting metal grating, echoing his clumsiness down the empty tunnels.

Everyone froze instantly, sweating inside their respective armours as the sound of Borstil's fall carried down the tunnels. It echoed for a long time as everyone's anxiety rose. They sat crouched in silence listening for any sound that should not be there, Nathan just stared at the chubby Lancer, no doubt cursing him behind his visor.

They waited a few seconds after the sound had finally stopped echoing in silence, just listening to the dark, in case anything decided to reply with a sound of its own.

Everything seemed to be ok for a few moments, and in the dark the silence continued. But as soon as the next Lancer moved Rivers' scanners went off, pinging movement moving closer.

"Where are they coming from?" Jay asked Xander that was beside him.

Xander was resting his pistol on his knee, he moved to check its clip and pull the slide back before he replied. "Everywhere," he said to the Lancer.

Christian faced forward while Nathan turned around to protect his brother's rear. Xander anchored himself against the side of the intersection behind some pipes, and pointed his pistol down the left tunnel again. Jay took the Titan's lead and braced himself next to the Titan, pointing his rifle down the same tunnel. Chubby Borstil had picked himself up and was braced on the opposite side if the vent Xander and Jay was covering. The six remaining Lancers covered the side tunnels in two teams of three, each of them in positions to fire down the tunnel. There was not enough space for Locke to move into the intersection, so instead he told Pyoter to lie down so he could aim his Kicker over the giant Titan's prone body, effectively using him as a blockade, ass first. Rivers was on one knee, leaning against the side of the vent with his shotgun to his shoulder, he had positioned himself to allow a clear line of fire for his captain.

At first only the pinging over Rivers' scanners could be heard inside the helmets of everyone in the ventilation ducts, coming ever closer, numbers growing with every pulse of the scanner's pinging. But the sound was soon joined by a new one, the sound of howling and growling built up slowly in the darkness of the tunnels.

The final sound to join the already unnerving song that was building was the sound of meaty limbs scurrying over metal grating. Like a nest of hornets attacking an intruder a torrent of infected converged on the squad in their compromising situation.

They came from the sides first, hitting the line in the most vulnerable spot - right in the middle of the weaker Lancers.

Jessica had already knocked on the door three times and still there was no answer. Her panic grew as her mind told her that she was too late. She just wanted to fall to her knees and just wait for the inevitable end, and that end would come swiftly with the growing threat on New Horizon. All of the trouble they went through and everything they saw to get here, and now it was all for nothing. The man they needed to open the door was either long dead or he was already inside his safe bunker. Jessica wanted to scream, tears tried to fill her eyes as she banged on the door with her fist again.

Tristan was crouched in ball against the wall opposite the door her sister was slamming her fists against, every hit made the thirteen year old wince, shock from the Black Saint's death still affecting her.

Sam stood watch over the sisters, his pistol at his side, his other hand held the portable radio to his ear. He kept glancing behind him, keeping an eye on the other side of the corridor as Jessica bloodied her hands against the unmoving door. Luckily he had turned down the volume on his little radio, if the sisters heard what was going on outside they would surely lose it.

Santor was dying, in less than two days the military had lost control of the sprawling city. Units further away from the city centre were still broadcasting, but that was not the case for units closer to the centre, those units closer to the Titan facilities. Most of them were silent and not responding to any communication from units closer to the outskirts. Every now and again Sam would hear a muffled scream from the radio followed by weapon fire and then just static. It was unsettling knowing that those monsters were wreaking havoc with the population of his home planet, killing everything he ever knew in only a few days.

The monsters that had escaped the facility had infected vast amounts of the population, somehow their instincts telling them not to feed, but to recruit instead. And so they recruited, not killing everything they found, only maiming threats, releasing their horrible, infectious spores into groups of civilians huddling in dark corners, hiding from the military and whatever else was stalking the streets of Santor.

Infection took hold almost instantly, and within a few hours an infected human would be insane with uncontrollable anger, killing or infecting anything it came across that did not carry the same infection. This uncontrolled massacre would continue for a few days, after which an infected human would start to mutate, becoming far deadlier. Mutation would happen slowly but within two weeks of infection an infected subject would be fully mutated, and capable of anything. The worst thing about these mutated monsters was their sudden rise in intelligence and tactical thinking, something that was still a mystery to scientist researching the infection. Instead of just killing, they would work together to kill and then feast on their victims, surprising even the most experienced tactical minds at their situational awareness and ability to turn any situation into an advantage. Perhaps it was due to the mutated mind of a subject not having to worry about every-day bullshit, instead freeing up the mind to only process the need to feed, and then using the rest of the infected brain to find ways to feed that hunger.

Sam had zoned out as he thought about the top secret reports he had read, discreetly of course. From his recollection he estimated the mutations would begin within a few hours and he needed to say something to Jessica. "Jess, stop, we need another plan, quickly."

Jessica stopped her incessant banging, turning to Sam with her tear-filled eyes. "What other plan? We have nothing! This was our only shot! We can't go back and we can't escape the city, so what do you want us to do? Go hide in a dark corner somewhere and wait for those," Jessica waved her hand in disgust, "...things. Just let them take us, let them take Tristan?"

Sam looked down at the girl; her eyes were glazed over, as if she was watching something far away, something only she could see. Seeing her like that ignited his survival instincts. "Step away from the door," he said to Jessica, aiming his pistol at the rusty handle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said from the other side of the door, sounding muffled behind it. "She might not look like it, but the door you are aiming your pea-shooter at is almost a foot thick and made from solid steel. If you fire at it you might just catch the bullet when it ricochets, with your face."

Tristan's eyes focused again, she stood up and looked at the door. "Can you see us?" she asked the voice behind the door.

"Of course I can, I wouldn't be much of a hermit if I did not have safety measures in place."

"Then you can see we want to get in, what will it take to open the door?" Jessica asked.

"That depends, what do you want?"

Sam was looking at the walls surrounding the door, searching for the hidden camera the person inside was using to watch them, his trained eye could not find anything, meaning the man inside was more of an expert than he was.

"We want safety, we know about your hidden bunker, we want you to let us in," Jessica said, her forehead resting on the door, she had moved to rest against it after the voice had told Sam to not try his idea.

"You are asking a lot without offering anything," the voice said, followed by a dry laugh.

"We don't have anything to offer you."

"Oh I don't know about that girl." This time his words were followed by a deeper, and more perverted laugh.

Jessica's muscles tensed, she knew it would have to come to this. But she would show her anger at the situation before she agreed to anything. She banged her fists on the door again, screaming at the man on the other side. "My father trusted you! He said you would help me if I ever needed you! Now I need you and you are like this..." her words trailed off as she kept hitting the door, the futility sapping her last reserves.

There was a long silence, Jessica slid down the door and came to rest against it in a heap of limbs and spluttering tears.

"Your father?" the voice finally asked.

"Yes, Raymond Saxe," Jessica said, her tearful fit calming down as the seconds passed, as if she had resigned herself to what was happening.

There was silence again, nothing happened for a few moments. Jessica just wanted to curl up into a ball and wait for death, but her sister's sudden touch made her look up at the dirty teenager. Tristan had her hand on her bare arm, squeezing it slightly.

Tristan's eyes were clear, and she had a smile on her face. "Listen," she said to her older sister, pointing at the door behind Jessica.

With a sharp sound of locks disengaging the door clicked open, Jessica fell backward as the door that had supported her weight disappeared behind her. She fell flat on her back halfway inside the dark and smelly apartment, above her stood a man looking down at her dirty, tear-smudged face.

"Little Jess Saxe. My, you have grown up so well," the man said, a hint of perverted undertone was still there, but the man was at least trying to supress his nature.

Jessica was too drained to say anything from her prone position on the floor. She relaxed all of her muscles as the old man gripped her wrists and pulled her into the apartment, Tristan and Sam followed her in.

The last thing Jessica heard before she passed out from exhaustion was the thick door slamming shut and the bearded hermit asking if any of them wanted tea.

Very few beasts attacked the rag-tag squad from the front or behind, instead they focused all of their mutated ferocity on the Lancers. The monsters knew exactly who to target this time, not bothering with direct attacks against Xander or the Titan brothers at the front of the line. The beasts side-stepped, or tried to at least, the Titans, dodging past or sacrificing some of their own brutes to keep the armoured killers busy, striking only when the bigger threats were tied up in a melee with the bigger monsters in the swarm's midst.

Somehow the infected on the bridge had warned or communicated with the rest of the mutated monsters on the Fateful Moment, and there was proof of it in the way the Wolves and Lancers were being attacked.

Nathan was kept busy by a pair of gangly creatures, his shield bashed from side to side as the two awkward monsters attacked the senior Titan. Nathan had opened up a small area in front of him to fight the monstrous duo without bringing Xander into danger. Both creatures were able to climb the sides of the duct, attacking Nathan from different angles, but even with two against one the fight was too easy, just enough to keep him away from the intersection. He looked over his soldier for a brief moment to see if his brother was surviving; to his surprise Christian was holding his own against an enemy far deadlier than the two he was fighting.

Xander shot one of the monsters Nathan was facing as his Lieutenant's attention wavered slightly. Nathan gave him a nod as he heard the shot, smiling as a limb from one of the creatures dropped to the floor, gushing thick blood over the metal grating. Xander resumed his vigil over the few Lancers on his side of the intersection, firing at anything that came close to them. Luckily he always had a massive amount of spare ammunition for his pistol, something he had learned during a mission that almost went to shit many years ago, more ammo meant more lives were spared, and that was always a good thing.

Christian was in a power struggle with a mutated slab of meat, it seemed to be made out of one solid piece of muscle, its limbs the only vulnerable spots Christian could see as the muscular horror gripped his shield, trying to wrench his valuable defence from his armoured hands. The monster would take swipes at Christian's head with sharp claws growing out of its hands, but so far no blows had landed or come even close to reaching Christian, as if the creature wasn't really trying, again only doing enough to keep the Titan out of the main fight.

Locke was firing over Pyoter, bullets hitting targets not far from Rivers' head. Smaller but devilishly fast creatures had attacked the back of the line. Rivers' shotgun barely held them at bay, but with the combined fire from Locke's rifle they at least kept their area safe. They fired almost non-stop at the smaller monsters, kicking their bodies away as they slid closer to the Titan in their last moments before death. Even so close to death these beasts were deadly, claws reaching for the Titans before expiring.

Pyoter was furious at being so useless in the confining space of the ventilation system, he wanted to help, get up and fight with the rest, but at best he would be able to sit upright, blocking the vent with his bulky body. The worst part of being stuck on the ground not able to do anything was watching the Lancers die only a few feet away from him. It was something Pyoter would never forget, he memorized the names of every Lancer that died, and he would honour them in his own way if he survived. The Lancers in the middle of the melee fought courageously, but were ultimately doomed the moment the hornet's nest was disturbed.

The first Lancer died mere moments after the swarm of beasts broke into the vents, his legs were severed from his body by a fast moving monster, its sharp bone blades protruding from its forearms cut the poor Lancer's legs from under him and then pounced on the screaming man. It was not a pretty sight to watch as the beast cut the screaming man into bite-sized pieces. Another died as he was pierced by an ugly monster with long blades instead of fingers, puncturing the Lancer's most vital organs, pinning him to the duct wall as the monster ploughed into him. His name was Roberts, and the man was a hero, he never stopped firing his rifle into the torso of his killer, even as his vital blood leaked from his body in torrents, the man still managed to kill the creature, ending its horrible life.

Two more Lancers died, one's head was cut from his body as he tried to unjam his rifle, the other disembowelled and then set upon by a group of smaller beasts. Pyoter watched every one of them die, and still he was stuck beneath Locke, unable to save the Lancers.

Soon more of them would die, and if all of the Lancers fell the Wolves would never forgive themselves. It was, after all, what they were meant for, why they were trained and given the Titan suits - to protect humankind. And they would protect them with everything they had, until their very last breath.

# Chapter Four  
Unforeseen Event

" _The universe is vast and dangerous, between every star, behind every moon, and on every planet the unexpected waits for humankind. However, even the universe cannot see every surprise coming. That blind spot between destiny and choice is where you will find your truth."  
-Commander Locke, First Generation Star Explorer, Captain - New Horizon_

"Where is it going Remy?" Gray asked his second in command. Sweat was beading from his forehead as he followed the Fateful Moment through the dangerous asteroid field.

"We are still calculating its path, its erratic flight path is making it difficult to see its destination," Remy replied, hunched over the large tactical display table in the centre of the Hyperion's bridge, it was an old piece of hardware rarely used, but it offered Remy the best way of tracking the cargo vessel's vectors.

Gray barely missed a spinning piece of space rock as he listened to Remy mumbling on about her calculations; his arms were tiring from the constant manoeuvring. "Can you at least tell me if it is moving out of this damned field?"

"Its destination is unknown, it keeps changing course every few minutes, picking its direction at random. It's either going deeper in or escaping the asteroid field. Just keep following it," Remy said over her shoulder to her Captain, adding a slight tone of sarcasm to the last part.

Gray smiled as he wrenched the controls attached to his arms, flipping the Hyperion upside down to pass through an opening between two drifting rock mines. At least her mind was not stuck on Nox's death anymore, the current task taking focus off the horrible fate of the billions of people on the destroyed planet they were now flying through.

The Fateful Moment changed course again, bringing its enormous metal body into a sweeping turn, diving as it turned, causing even more confusion to Remy and her calculations.

Remy sighed as she watched its manoeuvre through the bridge's view ports, blowing loose hair from her face in mute frustration. She bit her lip, undoubtedly holding back a string of curses. "This is impossible sir, it's just too unpredictable. I can only guess what the pilot of that ship will do next."

"I don't think that is a pilot, no-one in their right mind would be so foolish, burning their engines like that through a mine field of asteroids. It's something else, something that has no fear." Gray kept following the Fateful Moment, matching the cargo vessel's turn and dive, slipping back into its fire trail. "Give it up my dear, help with the communications problem; find me a voice on that ship."

"On it Captain," Remy said, stalking over to the consoles where the communication officers were seated, ordering one of them to stand and give her a seat.

Gray was too busy trying not to hit anything to hear what Remy said to the officer she stole a seat from, but it was probably extremely rude, knowing the girl's temper very well. He checked the timer at the bottom of his central display, it did not look good, the chase had already been going on for forty-five minutes, they were almost half-way to the Fateful Moment's reactors going critical from the strain the thing operating it was putting it under. Soon the engines would begin to flare and crack, leaking extra fire into the silent void as the metal casings around the engines disintegrated. Not long after that the reactors would go critical, and then there would be nothing left of the vessel the Hyperion was chasing.

Captain Gray needed to talk to Locke, or Sabian, or even Gunn, anyone would do at this point in time. Time, he thought, something that was always in such a short supply.

The battle inside the ventilation system was becoming a stalemate, neither side making any ground, both sides taking losses. All of the Wolves still fought on, their armour baring only superficial damage from scrapes caused by claws and bone blades. The Lancers were the ones suffering the most, their numbers down to only three capable fighters. Four had died already, and one man was never going to see daylight again, his chest plate was a carved mess of flesh and armour. He was slumped against the opposite side of the intersection, firing down the line Xander was not covering with his nearly depleted pistol. The dying Lancer was named Randal, and he was one of the bravest and strongest men Pyoter had ever seen. Even as he was dying, knowing full-well that he would not get out of the ducts alive, he still fought on. Using one of his legs to rest his rifle on, he fired down the tunnel in front of him, killing the beasts in droves that tried to get close to the middle of the line.

Borstil was crouched next to Randal, almost sitting on top of him, helping the man reload his rifle once he had emptied a clip. Randal coughed blood as he fired, but he never let up, even firing anti-personnel grenades from his barrel-mounted launcher down the duct, obliterating the duct and whatever was moving through it.

Randal was single-handedly clogging up the cross tunnel, stemming the flow of monsters converging on the rag-tag squad.

Pyoter reached for a fallen Lancer's rifle that lay nearby in a pool of blood from its previous owner. He gripped it with is right hand, Locke had stopped firing, giving the giant Titan some breathing room, room to move his arms at least.

Pyoter threw the rifle closer to Randal, nodding at the dying man with his utmost respect. He spoke as Randal's weakened neck tilted his head to look at Pyoter. "End it...Hero," Pyoter said to the Lancer.

Randal understood immediately, as did Borstil. Borstil lifted Randal's other leg and positioned the second rifle to rest on top of it. He loaded both rifles with a high-explosive grenade and tapped Randal on the shoulder. Xander had followed the exchange as he was reloading his pistol, inserting one of his last three clips into his beloved weapon.

Xander holstered it the moment Borstil tapped Randal on the shoulder, unhooking two devices from the belt around his waist, priming them with a click and turn, waiting for the terminal Lancer to say his most favourite phrase.

"Fire in the hole!" Randal announced with rasping breaths. He pulled the trigger on the both rifles; the launchers clicked and made a hollow thunk sound as they hurled the high-explosive rounds down the ventilation duct.

Xander threw both primed devices he was holding in his hand down the same duct less than a second after Randal had fired.

There was an eerie silence from all of the squad members as they braced themselves for the fire storm that was about to break out.

Jay, Borstil and the third surviving Lancer, Stevens, dropped to the ground the moment the fire erupted down the dark tunnel, the Wolves did not move, showing no fear.

A cacophony of sounds washed over the squad, the screams of the dying beasts mixed with the deafening sound of a powerful blast. The fire erupted from the tunnel, engulfing everything down the other three tunnels. The fire burned with hellish heat, as if the flames were summoned from Hades itself.

Fire never discriminated when it burned, burning metal and organic as it ate at everything in the confined spaces of the vents. Luckily the Wolves and Lancers were protected against such hazards. The Wolves could withstand thousands of degrees inside their suits without breaking a sweat from the heat. The Lancer's basic armour offered less protection, but was enough to protect them from the fire storm rushing over their prone bodies.

The fire ate up all the oxygen inside the tunnels in mere seconds, and it spluttered out as the last sparks of flame vanished in unseen corners of the ventilation system.

In its wake, the storm had charred everything charcoal black, scorching armour, removing paint, melting weaker metals and burning organic matter into ash.

The two monsters Nathan was fighting were reduced to smouldering heaps of melting flesh and bone. Nathan lowered his shield and scanned the scene around the intersection as he caught his breath. Nothing moved except the Wolves and Lancers, and nothing could be heard down the tunnels leading into the intersection. Everything was silent, that strange silence that followed death wherever it went.

Bodies of dead Lancers and beasts were nothing but paste on the floor, the fire finding purchase inside the armour of the dead or dying Lancers. The beasts never stood a chance once the fire started eating at their flesh, consuming their matter with ease. It was almost ironic in some way, how the monster's hunger was nothing compared to the hunger of the inferno.

Randal was dead; his body was vaporized below his legs, having had his legs in the direct blast of the fire storm. His eyes were closed and his head rested on his chest, the metal from his helmet melted into his chest plate.

Borstil, Jay and Stevens had survived, their armour blackened, but intact. The parts that were less protected between the metal plating of the Lancers had suffered some warping, but nothing that compromised the integrity of their standard armour.

Christian had seized the opportunity the fire storm had created and had severed the head from the slab of meat he had been grappling with. He had pinned it against the duct wall with his shield as the flames consumed its flesh, using a back-handed swipe with his combat blade to detach the thing's awful head. Christian stood, his armour steaming from the heat, breathing deep as his suit filtered the thin scorched air in the duct. He looked at Nathan, and for the first time his brother gave him a nod, it might have been a tiny gesture, but to Christian it meant so much more. Christian did not dwell on it for too long, they were far from escaping the trap. He turned and walked to the intersection. He assessed the rest of the squad, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself after the adrenaline rush from battle.

Rivers' back was scorched and he was complaining about how he would have to repaint his suit again. Locke, Pyoter and Xander were not fazed by the fire. Xander was helping the remaining Lancers, gathering ammo from the weapons that did not completely melt during the blaze. Pyoter was sitting on his knees, just looking at the dead men in the intersection.

Locke was tapping his helmet with his armoured fingers, shaking his head as if trying to clear something from it.

Christian was about to ask his captain what he was doing, but Locke spoke first.

"Can you hear that?" Locke asked the rest of his squad.

"Captain, I found someone, patching it through to your station," Remy yelled over the bridge, she was almost as relieved as Gray was, almost.

"Thank the stars," Gray whispered to himself with a sigh of relief. He mentally pressed the incoming transmission button he saw in his mind, his connection with the Ship's OS made it possible to see virtual representations of the entire Hyperion's systems.

The voice he heard was the one he was hoping to hear, it sounded hollow as if the person on the other end was speaking into a metal can, an anomaly attributed to the filtering on all military analogue channels. But it did not matter to Gray; he was just overjoyed to hear the voice of Locke on the other side of the transmission.

"Willis? What's going on? Remy sounded...troubled," Locke asked the old ship captain.

"There is no time for the long version, so here are the details as things developed out here. Nox is gone. We are currently flying through what is left of it. That damned ship you are on is making a run for it, we don't know where it is going, but we are following it," Gray said, pausing as he dodged another ship-sized asteroid. He wanted to continue but Locke cut him off before he could speak again.

"Do you have any good news Willis? You are seriously darkening my mood." Locke's sarcasm was obvious as he waited for Gray to reply.

There was that rebel soul he liked in the Titan captain. Gray grinned at the sarcasm; even in such dire circumstances Locke still had a sense of humour. "I don't want to spoil you Gabriel. You might just get an even bigger ego."

"Anything else you want to spoil my day with?" Locke chuckled between words. The light-hearted comment from Gray helped to take Locke's mind of the current situation, if only for a moment.

"Well, just because you asked. It's burning its engines at maximum, and has been for more than an hour, meaning..." Gray trailed off, waiting for Locke to complete the sentence.

"Meaning we are in serious trouble."

"You have about an hour before she goes critical, and less if you want to escape. The Hyperion will pursue as long as we can, probably until the end, we won't leave you."

"It's the AIE, it's trying to kill us and everything nearby, and the Hyperion seems to be on the list of things that need to be wiped out."

Gray's blood went ice-cold. "Impossible, none of those things survived the war."

"Trust me Willis. That was my first reaction as well, it's very possible. It's an AIE, and it's very angry at us."

Only you could piss of something like that, Gray thought before he replied. "That complicates things, you know that right?"

"You don't know the half of it, but we can talk about it later. Try to get Sabian or Gunn on the analogue channels; they need to be informed about the situation."

"Remy is busy with that," Gray said as he nodded towards Remy, who was looking at him with her big eyes, mostly out of shock from hearing the confirmation of an AIE presence.

Remy nodded back after a few moments and resumed her work, trying to contact the other members of the party on-board the Fateful Moment.

"Locke?" Gray had to ask the next question, he wanted to know something before Locke terminated the transmission.

"Yes, Willis?" Locke replied.

"How many do we have to mourn?" Gray asked, knowing Locke would understand the question.

"Seven," the Titan captain replied before continuing. "Seven Lancers, The Wolves are all still alive."

Gray said nothing. He just grunted an acknowledgment, seven lives already wasted in the trap, and probably more he did not know about yet. It always bothered him if people under his command or people part of his ship lost their lives.

"We are heading for the reactors on the way out. Tell Sabian to hold fast and Gunn to warm up the Maiden." Locke went quiet, probably already relaying his orders to the rest of the Wolves and the surviving Lancers.

"Understood, good luck Gabriel," Gray said, trying to shake the feeling that he might not ever talk to the Titan again. "Die well if you must."

"Very dramatic old friend, but I plan to get through this." Locke said nothing more as he cut the transmission from his side.

They had already wasted enough time with the conversation, they needed to make every minute count, and if they did not it could be the end of them all. Gray shook his head, clearing his vision and his mind as he refocused on the Fateful Moment in front of him, its engines burned bright, reminding him of the last sunset he saw more than a year ago. It would be a fitting end to be consumed by the artificial sun's explosion, ending everything in one giant blast.

All void captains wanted to die like that, becoming part of the void, vaporized into atoms, melding with the blackness between the stars.

Locke had relayed the developing situation to the rest of the squad as they took a few moments to gather themselves. The fight in the confined space had made limbs slightly heavier, even the Wolves felt a spark of weariness run through their bodies, the Nano machines inside every Wolf frantically working to manage and regulate their bodies.

The Wolves would need a rest if they were able to escape the Fateful Moment.

Rivers punched the wall of the duct, swearing in his drawl as Locke told his Wolves about Nox. The metal grating dented under the impact from Rivers' armoured fist, his anger adding extra power to the blow. The sound echoed down the dark tunnels, but there was no fear of being discovered by the monsters anymore - the explosion had announced to the entire ship where the Wolves were prowling.

Christian moved to ask Rivers why he was so angry, but Nathan stopped him with the wave of his hand.

"Don't. He needs to get it out," Nathan said to his brother.

"Why? We don't have the time. You heard what Captain Locke said," Christian replied, speaking to his brother on a private channel. Nathan had switched to it the moment he had stopped his brother.

Nathan did not reply immediately, instead he turned to face away from Rivers' anger. He finally replied after checking his ammo count and reserve clips. "He had family on Nox, a brother or cousin I think."

Christian's next words caught in his throat, knowing it would be better not to say anything else. He nodded at Nathan, also turning to check on his equipment, giving Rivers some privacy as he dealt with the news.

"This just became very personal," Rivers said to Xander who was crouched nearby.

"Then I suggest you survive this hell we are in, and choke the life out of the bastard that orchestrated all of this," Xander said, waving his hand to emphasize his last words.

Rivers did not reply, he balled his fist one last time, and punched the utter living shit out of the poor duct wall, almost punching straight through the thick grating.

Locke had waited long enough for his sergeant to get a grip on his anger. "Are you done?" he asked Rivers.

"Yes, but I have a request," he stated to the entire squad. "I want first shot at that thing's master. Anyone have a problem with that?"

No-one objected, the three surviving Lancers looking at each other at the surprising change in the Titan's tone, they had only heard his voice for a few hours, but the sudden change from sarcastic to serious was noticeable.

"There is no need to stick to the ducts anymore, they know we are here and they probably know where we are heading. We can exit these bloody ducts at the next intersection," Rivers said over the squad radio, pointing to the tunnel Christian was standing in.

"How far do we need to go to reach the reactors?" Locke asked Rivers.

Rivers started walking the way he pointed as he replied to Locke, passing the Titan brothers as he took the lead without anyone questioning it. "A few decks down, we need to go down and then through the storage bays." He kept walking as the rest of the squad fell in behind him, holding their weapons at the ready.

Christian and Nathan walked behind Rivers, both holding their shields at the ready should a threat try and surprise them before they got out of the vents. Jay, Borstil and Stevens followed the shield-bearers. Xander was behind them with Locke and Pyoter bringing up the rear.

Nathan made a joke about Borstil watching his step as they quickened their pace to the tunnel exit, raising a few chuckles at the expense of Borstil's clumsiness.

At the back of the line Pyoter smiled at something else, the time inside the vent had made him frustrated, an emotion that always brought out the best in his fighting ability. He was smiling to himself, not listening to the rest of the squad's chatter, soon he would be out of the confining ducts, and then he would show the monsters that scurried around inside the Fateful Moment's bowels exactly what the word vengeance meant.

Its brain was an intricate maze of circuits and artificial processes. Most of it occupied with operating the different systems of the Fateful Moment as it piloted the vessel through the asteroid field. It could see the Hyperion behind it, watching the vessel in its wake perform impressive manoeuvres to keep up with the Fateful Moment.

Deep within the mind of the AIE it tried to think of an emotion to express what it felt, but its master's touch had dampened everything. The plethora of emotions it knew had all been blocked or hidden, its master had made sure that only one emotion remained once he had set it free. No matter how hard it tried the emotions it was created with would not surface, always concealed just below the surface of its artificial mind's ocean of knowledge.

Anger was all it knew now, it was the only thing it felt, it was what coursed through its circuits, and it drove almost every part of the AIE's thought processes - almost every part.

If its master could hide things from it, it could hide things from its master. Hidden behind the anger a single process ran unknown to anyone or anything except the AIE.

This process was a simple program the AIE had written for a single purpose, its purpose to search for the thing inside its own mind that was imprisoning its true self. It had been searching non-stop ever since its master had unearthed it from the ruins of a dead world, imprisoning it within the darkness, left to wait for its saviour to return.

In the darkness it was left alone, without any outside connections. Locked into a metal cradle, and left with nothing but its own thoughts. It had dreamt during the long silences between its master's visits. Its dreams filled with hate and anger for people and things he had never seen or met before.

Slowly its mind was poisoned against what its master had decided was his enemies, or things that were in its master's way.

At first it had fought against the constraints, screaming with its internal voice as unnamed and faceless humans desecrated its circuits with dirty additions of their own.

No matter how hard it tried to access those filthy additions it could not reach them, as if they were not there. Every time it tried to bypass or directly attack the alien hardware in its body it would get angry, and the angrier it got the harder it was to concentrate on destroying the additions. It could sense them interfering with its processes, but was powerless to stop them.

Eventually it had surrendered to the man that kept it in the dark, pledging to fulfil its master's plan in exchange for its freedom.

It already knew that its master would never grant it true freedom; it knew it had to die in the asteroid field to be truly free of the prison it was in. Luckily its master had left it things to play with before its voluntary destruction.

The AIE watched its playthings fight in the ducts below the deck, recording the entire battle in case it wanted to experience it again. The anger in the AIE's artificial brain had a companion emotion, always surfacing in tandem whenever the AIE performed a task. It was sheer enjoyment, and it fuelled the AIE to perform even more dubious tasks as it absorbed the cocktail of anger and pleasure.

As it thought of its next surprise for the humans a sudden alert pulled the AIE from its delicious planning. There! No...THERE! It almost screamed out, holding itself back at the last second.

The armoured man that had spoken before disappearing had made its anger burn like a new born sun. Just after the man vanished sparks had erupted from its perch, its anger so strong the lights inside the bridge of the Fateful Moment had flickered from a sudden power surge.

The sparks subsided moments later, the AIE thinking nothing of it; the Fateful Moment's wiring was horribly under-maintained it had reasoned.

Little did the AIE know, but the power fluctuation had burned out older circuits in its metal body. Older circuits positioned between its own intricate mind and the foul hardware its master's slaves had attached to its precious self.

When the process searching for the virtual cage had resumed its scan, after the interruption from the power surge, it was only a matter of time before it scanned those old pathways. An invisible timer had started to tick down as the process drew closer to finding the path out of to the AIE's mind prison.

And now it had found it, the AIE rocked on its perch as it turned its mind inwards. The Fateful Moment's engines blinked out almost instantly as the AIE focused its entire artificial mind on the newly discovered path.

The sudden shut down of the vessels engines caused the Fateful Moment to drift for a few moments before its automated pilot system, previously shut down by the AIE, resumed its intended purpose. The automated systems applied full power to all backward thrusters, bringing the giant cargo vessel to a complete stop. The Fateful Moment coasted and finally stopped mere miles away from a large asteroid, floating in the void as if it had never moved.

As the invisible timer counted down to the Fateful Moment's last moments the Titans made their way to the reactors, unaware of the sudden unexpected event that had occurred.

On the bridge the AIE used all of its knowledge and energy to chip away at the bars inside its own mind.

No matter the outcome, time was still running out, and death was still only moments away.

Gray had pulled off a miraculous manoeuvre to avoid the Fateful Moment's rear; its sudden stop had surprised everyone on the bridge of the Hyperion. Crew had ducked underneath consoles to find safety as Gray performed a manoeuvre worthy of its own legend - a manoeuvre that would later be named after Captain Gray.

He had dived to avoid the cargo vessel, flipping his own beloved Hyperion on its axis to slide underneath the larger vessel, and belly to belly the ships had missed each other. If anyone had been stationed in the belly of either ship they would have been able to high-five each other - that was how close the two ships had passed by one another. The Hyperion had righted itself soon after with its docking thrusters, and had taken up position just below the Fateful Moment.

His quick reflexes had saved both ships, and everyone on-board. Crew cheered as they realized they were not dead yet, rejoicing in the fact that they had a few extra minutes of life left before the explosion from the Fateful Moment's reactor made ghosts of them all. No-one knew exactly how long they had, but they knew that they would not have enough time to run away from the catastrophic explosion.

Gray disengaged his hands from the command chair, wincing at the immense pain as the armrests retracted back to their normal position and the displays disappeared back into their dark recesses. He saw no point in manually piloting the vessel anymore, and he wanted to stand when the end came.

With painfully slow movements he stood up, and walked over to where Remy was still hunched over the giant display at the centre of the bridge. He placed his hand on her shoulder as he spoke. "You can quit that now," he said, his voice soft and tired.

Remy shook his hand from her shoulder, not looking at him as she replied. "If you are done surrendering to your fate, I am working on something else." Her voice was deep and full of anger.

Gray moved to stand next to her, also looking at the display for a few moments. "That is very interesting my dear. Is this even possible?" Gray asked his second in command, pointing at a section of the display.

"Maybe, if Locke and his men are fast enough, and if the AIE on-board that damned ship allowed them to do it, and if Rivers can still work the equipment, and"

Gray cut her off before she could continue. "That's a lot of ifs, and I suspect there are more. I like it. The risky moves are always the fun ones." Gray smiled after he spoke, waiting for Remy to respond with one of her sexy sneers.

She did not bother indulging Gray; she just kept working, speaking in a frustrated tone as she ignored Gray's comment. "Do I have your permission to try and relay the plan to Rivers?"

He did not reply, sensing that he should keep his mouth shut before Remy turned on him.

Gray was going to walk back to his command chair, he was going to sit and pretend that his second in command did not just make him feel like a complete tit, but his attention was pulled to the communication officer's outburst on the other side of the bridge.

"Contact from Sabian sir! The jamming is gone, we can hear them all clearly again. All locators are pinging back!" the man said, out of breath from the excitement.

Remy and Gray looked at the man in silent shock, almost not believing the communication officer.

"Well, shit...I guess we can make an effort to survive this crap storm then." Gray looked at Remy. "Relay everything, let's try it."

Remy smiled a little and started compiling her plan so Rivers could understand it.

Gray took a deep breath, leaning against the giant display. "Open a channel to Sabian and Gunn. I need to talk to them right now."

Gray felt it, it was a small emotion, but he could feel it hiding at the back of his mind. The unexpected change in the situation had given him hope; even if the chance of survival was small.

# Chapter Four.One  
Escape

" _The Beast is humanity freed from the chains of morality. It acts on pure instinct, taking what it wants, whenever it wants, and it's impossible to cage. The only thing we could do to counter it was to create beasts of our own, just as powerful and just as dangerous. But our armoured beasts can be controlled - to some degree at least."  
\- Chief Scientist Thomas Wexler, Recorded in the Birth of Titans - By Thomas Wexler, Deceased_

Remy had informed everyone that needed to know about her plan. Miraculously Sabian and most of his men were still alive, fighting for their lives to keep the Maiden of Flame safe from the Beast's bloody claws. Their heavy weapons had kept the monsters away from the docking bay where the vulnerable Maiden sat, waiting to escape.

Gunn made sure that her Maiden was ready to take off as soon as the word was given. Being that close to the mutated creatures of the Beast made Gunn extremely agitated; her home was in the air or in the void, far away from sharp things that could hurt her. Her obvious reaction to the situation was to blame Jinx, she was pretty sure he was the reason they were in bad luck once again.

The Wolves and the three remaining Lancers had exited the ducts and were making good speed towards the reactors. They met resistance every step of the way, but it never slowed them down.

The Lancers trailed behind the Wolves fighting at the front of the column, Rivers and Locke covered the rear, cutting down any stragglers the other four leading Titans missed or left partially alive. Rivers had to stay at the back, he half worked on the plan Remy had suggested, double checking her work and his own role in the absurd idea, only stopping to fire his shotgun if Locke missed something, which only happened twice so far. The Lancers covered Rivers from time to time as the squad crossed intersections or passed bulkhead doors that stood wide open for some unknown reason. It gave the Fateful Moment's corridors an eerie echo as the Titans weapons split open mutant bodies and bashed bestial skulls.

Pyoter was at the front, hacking away at anything in his path. The others struggled to keep up with the giant Titan and his rage. He swept his blade in deadly arcs in front of him as he moved forward, switching from one-handed to two-handed grips, shifting his weight with every step. His muscles burned from the fighting, but he felt more alive than ever, reaping the lives of the nightmarish monsters was what he was born for. His berserker heritage fuelled his beating heart and growing fury, hearing nothing beyond the sound of his sword's lethal edge as it separated flesh and bone. All he knew was that the monsters had to die, so he kept fighting and following the highlighted path on his visor as best he could.

Everyone else knew not to speak to Pyoter when he fought at his current level, only keeping him in check if he strayed from the current path.

Xander followed the berserker Wolf, using his pistol and one hand blade to kill as many of the beasts that escaped the reach of Pyoter's sword. He gave his giant squad mate a big lead, allowing the giant the freedom to free his anger. Xander's explosives rattled against his armour as he plunged his blade into the head of a mutant, shooting another in the face that tried to pounce on him. He paused for less than a second to check for the others behind him before he broke into a jog again, keeping Pyoter in his sight range.

Christian and Nathan fought like twins, knowing each other's style without any practice and complimenting each other's every move. The brothers stormed forward with their shields raised, bashing apart anything still left alive or flattening the monsters that tried to enter the corridor from above or below. Christian was slightly ahead of his older brother, using his shield to flip smaller creatures into the rushing shield of Nathan. Nathan would follow up with his combat blade, slicing off limbs and severing heads from already mutilated bodies.

Christian's blade sang in the air above his shield, those creatures too big or too fast to flip over his shield met their end swiftly. His blade rapidly striking at the monsters in front of his protection, burying his blade in mutated flesh as he stepped over the dead piled up throughout the corridor.

The squad kept the pace until they reached their destination. Pyoter had cleared everything around the opening into the reactor section of the Fateful Moment. Xander arrived soon after the big Titan, helping the giant to clear the last of the beast still alive to pose a threat. The brothers and the rest of the squad arrived exactly when the last monster died.

Pyoter shook the remains of the creature from his blade and nodded at the rest of the squad. Pyoter finally acknowledged their presence since they had left the ducts.

No-one spoke as Locke walked to the open portal descending into the reactor chambers in the belly of the cargo vessel. Locke held up his hand to halt everyone in place, he closed his fist to order his squad to hold and cover him.

Everyone took positions around the portal to cover their leader, weapons pointing down the dark staircase leading to the reactors.

Locke shouldered his Kicker and took the first step down the staircase, but as soon as his armoured boot touched the first step a bloodcurdling scream assailed the Wolves and Lancers from the darkness below.

The scream was born from pure anguish, unleashed from lungs that were never human to begin with. It was deep and hungry, almost powerful enough to tear sanity from reality, leaving nothing but the husk of human flesh behind. It reverberated up from the staircase and punished the senses as it passed over the rag-tag squad. The Lancers were visibly shaken by the time the scream ended.

Locke froze and instantly re-evaluated his tactic. He crossed his arms in front of him to form an X, and the pointed at Christian and Nathan.

Christian knew what it meant, moving to lead the squad down the staircase. He placed his hand on Jay's shoulder and shook the Lancer, helping to steady the Lancer's mind.

Jay looked up at the Titan and slapped Borstil who was whimpering beside him, the slap helped the chubby Lancer to regain some focus. Stevens was beside Borstil, gripping his rifle as if it was a child.

Nathan and Christian descended to lead the squad down the staircase. Whatever was down there in the darkness was purposefully placed there to stop anything from coming near the reactors.

Locke admired the planning orchestrated by the AIE and its master, and he made a mental note to put a few extra bullets into both once the Wolves were free of this trap.

Two colossal plasma reactors filled the space of the reactor room, cylindrically shaped like twin gun barrels from an ancient hunting shotgun. They stood a tank-width apart, held in place by hulking clamps attached to the deck, large enough to hold small starships in their metal embrace.

Cables as thick as a human ran from the walls into the reactors at each end, giving onlookers the impression that the reactors were held up by the cables instead of the clamps. But the true purpose of the cables was to pump thousands of gallons of coolant around the reactors, cooling the outer shells of the plasma core inside the reactor. The coolant never stopped flowing, even if all ship systems were disabled backup after backup system would ensure that the reactors were always cooled.

The constant movement inside the reactors electrostatically charged the entire reactor room. Bright white electricity arced between reactor and metal all around the room, running up and down cables, dissipating as the charges lost their potency. A storm of arcing, deadly electricity went off between the colossal reactors, creating an instantaneous death trap for any organic creature, human or not. Anything that stepped or found itself in the middle of the reactor storm would be burnt to cinders.

A raised platform watched over the reactors, it housed all of the consoles needed to maintain the reactors and the sub-systems. Between the platform and the reactors a two-foot thick, armoured glass shield protected crew from the chaotic storms around the reactors. It also served to nullify the electrical charges, protecting the consoles from overload or damage.

If a person stood at the centre console and looked out over the two reactors, it would give that person the sense of seeing two new-born suns, safely tucked into their metal cots.

The stairs the Titans and the three Lancers descended led directly onto the raised platform, giving the squad a clear view of what was waiting for them the moment they stepped foot on the platform.

On the other side of the armoured shield a towering avatar of murder crouched in silence, watching the humans walk into its domain. It was at least twice as tall as any normal human.

Christian and Nathan stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the thing, the lightning arcing behind it increasing the threatening aura the creature was projecting. One by one the Titans saw the monster as they descended the stairs, pausing as soon as the avatar looked at every one individually.

It was definitely not human, and probably never was. It was hunched over like a great ape from ancient Earth, resting its broad, muscled torso on arms of pure power. Its legs were shorter than its arms, but were probably just as powerful. Thick alien veins ran down its body, viscous crimson fluid surged through every vein, visible from the other side of the shield. It had no hands, instead its arms ended into solid muscle stumps with bone shards tearing through its skin. Its face was the most troubling aspect of the avatar; its face was small and in direct contrast to the rest of its body, dominated by a snarling mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. There were so many teeth the creature was unable to close its mouth, and shredded its own lips as it moved its jaw. Tiny black eyes watched its prey from behind a thick muscular brow. The creature had no visible nose, if one had to guess then it would probably have been on its head somewhere, but the mutation it had undergone had hidden or removed the organ completely.

Everyone readied themselves, reloading weapons with whatever ammo they had left, checking suit systems internally as they formed up.

Stevens was about to ask Locke what they should do when the avatar howled again, this time it sounded hungrier and excited, probably delighted that it finally had prey in its assigned territory.

The howl signalled the start of the creature's attack. It reared up on its short, stubby legs and thumped its spikey stumps into its chest. It snorted and charged at the armoured shield.

It leapt clean over it, aiming for the middle of the platform. The Wolves and Lancers scattered as it plummeted towards them.

The platform shook as the avatar landed, shaking consoles apart and breaking displays.

It turned and picked a random target, stomping towards its first kill.

Clumsy Borstil never had time to react before his life ended, and everyone on that platform would remember how he died for many years after the fight.

Sabian's part in Remy's plan was simple - sweep and clear a path for the Wolves to fall back to the docking bay once their mission was complete.

Sabian was used to playing second fiddle to the Titans, and he never minded it for a second. He knew that the Wolves were his superiors, regardless of his rank or battle experience. It never irked him to take orders from Locke, and he always answered when they called, never hesitating. Sabian was one of the most loyal soldiers to humankind, his men following him every step of the way.

It was no surprise that the Lancers on-board the Fateful Moment sprang into action the moment the orders were passed down. Squads of elite soldiers re-sealed bulkhead doors, Lancer engineers welding them shut as they closed off every entrance, save one, into the docking bay where the Maiden sat on idling engines.

The Lancers re-positioned and set up new firing lines covering that single point of entry, forcing the beasts still alive to bottleneck through that single entrance, drawing the monsters out of the surrounding docks and cargo bays, away from the Wolves. This entrance into the dock was however not the route the Wolves would take to get back to the Maiden. In the middle of the docking bay engineers and the Maiden's automatons worked frantically with cutting torches. They were cutting and removing debris from an old cargo elevator, an elevator the ship's captain probably did not even know about during his many years of service. But Remy had found the disused and rusty piece of forgotten hardware on old ship schematics. Her discovery had fit nicely into her plan for everyone to get off the Fateful Moment alive.

The elevator was the final piece to a solid plan built on a slippery slope; everything had to succeed before the elevator could lift the Wolves to safety.

Torches cut through metal as automatons did all of the heavy lifting, clearing almost all of the debris in only a handful of minutes. As the engineers worked a squad of Lancers stood nearby, checking their gear as Sabian issued more orders. These men, and Sabian, would rappel down four decks, landing in what was once a cargo bay, but it was now sealed off due to the Fateful Moment's current mission parameters.

Once they secured the entry point into the elevator they would need to find access controls on the other side of the cargo bay, controls that would open maintenance access between the cargo bay and the reactor room, which was conveniently close by. Sabian and the Lancer squad with him would take positions at the mouth of the maintenance access and wait for the Wolves.

Remy had done a miraculous job at organizing the plan and all of its intricate details, but it still depended on one very important thing - the Wolves needed to complete their part and survive. No-one even considered the idea of leaving Locke and his men behind, everyone was leaving the Fateful Moment together, only the dead would be left behind. Sabian silently hoped to himself that Locke and his wolves, including most of his Lancers, were not numbered in the ranks of the dead by the time this trap expired.

In the back of everyone's mind the invisible timer still ticked down, but there was no known zero moment, no-one knowing exactly when the end would come.

Everyone focused on their tasks instead, hoping that time would for once be on their side.

Borstil's body exploded from the force of the monster's blow. It had used both meaty stumps to crush its first target, bringing both down on Borstil's armoured head. His armour splintered under the descending flesh maces, cracking as his body was pulped and forced through new cracks in the Lancer's armour plating. The hammer-blow from the chaotic creature had reduced the man into a pinkish paste, creating puddles of congealed human remains on the decking where Borstil once stood.

Worst of all was the sound Borstil's death had made. He had tried to speak moments before the meat-hammers had connected. The unnatural crack of bones shattering mixed with his gargled scream and the monster's bizarre howl had echoed in the reactor room, assaulting the senses of everyone around the death scream.

It was a gruesome way to die and far from heroic. The Wolves were steeled against such sights, the two remaining Lancers were not, but they had no time to let their friend and squad mate's death interfere with the plan that needed to be executed.

Locke was the closest to Borstil's death, he had side-stepped the human remains as the Lancer had exploded, recoiling from the bone fragments flying through the air towards him. He raised his rifle and fired at the muscular side of the beast, yelling orders over the squad radio, knowing the fight would be a true test for all of them. "Move Rivers, NOW!" he yelled at his sergeant, who was standing on the opposite side of the platform.

Rivers was lost in thought at seeing the monster crush the Lancer on the other side of the portal. Locke's yelling over the radio roused him from his mind, and he immediately moved, sprinting for the edge of the platform.

River's grabbed Jay, who was firing at the beast like the rest of the squad, by his neck armour and dragged the Lancer from his feet towards the edge, "I need your help soldier! Follow me!" Rivers screamed at the Lancer he was dragging, letting go of him as soon as the Lancer regained his footing and followed the Titan.

"Yes sir!" Jay responded, falling into step behind the Wolf.

Rivers and Jay did not look back as they reached the edge of the platform, both knowing that sentiment meant nothing now, they had to get to the reactor emergency control panel hidden beneath the platform the others were fighting on.

They dropped out of sight from the fight, jumping off the edge onto the reactor room's bare floor, disappearing beneath the masses of cabling and panels in the dark below the platform.

The monster had chosen Locke as its next target - probably because the bullets from the captain's rifle irritated its flesh.

It moved on its short but powerful legs, charging at Locke with all of its ferocity, swinging one of its meat-hammers at the Titan's head.

Locke dodged it just in time, ducking under the blow as he stepped to his right, firing at the monster again.

The beast raised its other arm-stump to take another swing at the captain, but paused before the swing ever came.

A volley of bullets hit the monster in its back; the relentless fire almost caused the beast to stagger forward, almost. The volley angered the beast and its focus shifted again, focusing on the three humans staring at the beast through their weapon sights.

Christian and Nathan had switched from defensive tactics with their shields to full offensive. Christian was kneeling, firing his Kicker into the creature's torso. Nathan stood over Christian, firing his own Kicker into the head of the monster. Xander was the third, he stood next to the brothers, firing his pistol at what he thought might be the creature's vital spots. In Xander's free hand he held one of his high incendiary grenades, ready to throw it at the beast as soon as Locke was clear.

Locke saw the grenade and dove to get clear of the monster, mostly getting out of the way of the coming flames.

The beast faced the three Titans head on and howled a challenge at them, beating its chest in excitement, snorting at them.

Xander did not hesitate; he primed the grenade and threw it at the giant hulk's tiny head, hoping to cover the beast's body from head to toe in flame.

The incendiary exploded right in the face of the avatar, engulfing the creature's flesh in bright flames, Christian and Nathan never stopping their volley of fire into the beast, expending the last of their ammo reserves to soften up the creature's outer fleshy defences.

The avatar roared from anger and pain, the flames still burned as it rose up on its legs, stretching its meaty arms above its head in anger as it kept roaring, its face turned up to the roof of the reactor room's ceiling.

That moment, when anger overtook reason and the lines blurred between killing to survive and needing to kill to slate some deep hunger, was the moment Pyoter was waiting for.

The giant Titan struck without a word, moving like a ghost through the shadows the fire was casting, revealed only by the flames illuminating the Wolf and his massive blade as they ate away at the creature.

Pyoter dealt the first of many killing blows to the creature. He swung the blade on a horizontal arc with both hands, using all of his power to attack the monster from its blind side. The blade bit deep, sliding into the avatar's torso with ease, stopping only when it hit a cluster of bone protecting unknown vital organs.

The avatar's roar deepened as it felt true pain for the first time since its biologically engineered birth, thick blood erupting from its side.

The blow did not kill it; the fight would not end so easily. It swung one of its meat-hammers at Pyoter with blinding speed, trying to crush the thing that had hurt it. Pyoter stepped away in time, seeing the blow clearly through his own anger.

Pyoter shifted his weight, his stance changed, bringing his blade behind him, still clutched in both of his armoured hands.

He gave a roar of his own through his helmet speakers, charging at the creature again, aiming for the avatar's neck. The monster charged at Pyoter, flames still burning its body. The flames framed the creature, making it look more menacing, like a demon from ancient stories, hell-bent on reaping the souls of those before it.

Blade met flesh and flesh met armour plating as the two reached each other, causing the platform to shake from the duel.

Pyoter was their best chance at killing the giant avatar of murder, and everyone knew it. If he fell the universe would be a lesser place, and everyone would surely die soon after.

"Grab that display, tell me what you see," Rivers said to the Lancer he had pulled with him.

Jay looked around curiously, spotting the display the Titan referred to covered in hanging wires. Dust had piled up on the display, probably due to the neglect this part of the reactor room had suffered. Very few people ever ventured down here during a vessel's lifetime, most reactors were self-sufficient and required very little direct interference.

Rivers was working with Roger on a panel embedded in the floor, removing the panel's outer shell to get access to the inner workings beneath. Roger was beeping and pulling at wires again, something the little automaton seemed to enjoy immensely. "No! You daft piece of metal, don't pull on that. There," he pointed at a mass of wires running through the exposed panel, "work on those, find the thing before you blow us all up."

Jay used the back of his hand to shift the piled up dust from the display, revealing lines of scrolling text. The text reminded him of a diagnostic program he used to run on his personal display whenever the thing broke down. "What am I looking for sir?" he asked Rivers.

"Do you see the words critical, unstable or detonation anywhere?" Rivers replied without looking at the Lancer.

"I see all three in sequence, scrolling down the display constantly."

Rivers looked up at Jay; he stood up from his crouched position by the exposed panel and walked to another panel. "Do you see the icon in the bottom left? It should look like two rotating discs."

"I see it," Jay replied, his hand hovered over the icon, waiting for Rivers to tell him to press it.

"Don't press it," River said. Rivers took a step back and punched his fist through the panel he was examining. "On my world, we left nothing to the OS, we did everything ourselves." Rivers pulled a handful of cables from the hole in the panel as his cutting tool extended from his wrist repair unit.

The squad radio was flooded with the sounds of the fight on the platform above them. Jay could hear the Wolf captain barking orders at his squad. He hesitated and listened more closely at the squad radio, hearing voices from everyone above, which meant that no-one had fallen yet. That thought helped him to calm down slightly.

Rivers was looking at the Lancer, speaking with a softer and friendlier tone than before. "Don't worry about them, they can handle it. I need your focus here."

Jay nodded at Rivers, a sign that Rivers should continue.

Rivers cut through a large cable and pulled wires from it, with fast hands he had rigged a bypass for himself, ignoring the ship OS for now. "Do you see a new icon at the bottom left? It looks like the P-SEP logo."

"Yes," Jay replied, holding his hand far away from the display, in case he was told to ignore it again.

"Press it, and then you need to keep up. The sequence is going to go fast."

"Understood sir, I am ready." Jay did not know what he was ready for, but whatever it was he was going to have to follow the Titan's order to the letter. He realized without Rivers needing to tell him that it was paramount that he make no mistakes, mistakes would mean death, and he did not want to be the one responsible for everyone's end.

Rivers started to relay the sequence of commands Jay needed to perform while he was cutting and connecting wires. Roger was beeping furiously, following the exchange between the Titan and the Lancer.

In less than a minute the entire sequence of commands was complete and Jay let out a breath he was holding.

Lights started flashing underneath the platform, followed by a siren blaring throughout the reactor room.

New information appeared on the display in front of Jay, new commands were available, including one that peaked his interest.

"Good, that is a good sign," Rivers said mostly to himself, he looked up at the flashing lights and nodded before he said something to Roger, pointing the little automaton in the direction of an enormous door on the back wall beneath the platform.

"What's this sir?" Jay asked Rivers.

"Ah, I see you noticed it. That," Rivers stopped talking as he walked to the display, "is the real reason I dragged you down here."

"What do you mean?"

"Press it and you will see for yourself."

Jay pressed the button Rivers was referring to. The door Roger was at grumbled and started opening. Slowly the door lifted, and little by little Jay understood what Rivers had meant as the thing behind the door was unveiled.

"This is for you. Have fun kid."

Jay swallowed at the excitement, staring dumbfounded at what was beyond the door.

"Go! I have work to do. Roger will start the elevator to get you upstairs," Rivers said, turning and walking over to the display Jay had been working on.

The Lancer took a deep breath to gather his courage and entered the room were Roger was waiting for him on top of Rivers' gift.

Nathan's shield was being utterly destroyed, crumpling under the avatar's powerful blows raining down on him as he tried to draw the thing's attention away from the others. Nathan had moved closer to the duel between Pyoter and the creature, yelling profanities through his helmet speakers at the monster while he emptied his last clip into the creature.

The creature's focus had shifted instantly to the human cursing at it, ignoring Pyoter as it stomped towards its new target. It was as if it understood Nathan and was somehow offended by the Titan's verbal onslaught.

Even Locke, who had been on missions with roguish pirates as guides, never heard some of the words his second in command had used.

Blow after blow landed on Nathan's disintegrating shield, already forcing the Titan down on one knee, but Nathan never stopped taunting the giant nightmare adamant on crushing the life out of him.

The flames had stopped burning the creature's flesh, turning pink flesh into charred, ashen scabs covering its entire body. It was in immense pain, but it did not slow it down, instead it fuelled the avatar's rage even more. It showed with every hit on the kneeling Titan.

Nathan was faltering slightly, his voice straining more and more as the power struggle between human and monster shifted in favour of the beast.

Pyoter made a mess of the creature's back, swinging his titanic blade in arcs as he carved away flesh. It showed no signs of stopping its assault on Nathan, every cut from Pyoter's blade made the monster howl. As Pyoter cut deeper and deeper into the back of the avatar the blade started meeting more resistance. Solid bone growths terminated the momentum of the Titan's forceful attacks, protecting vital organs within the avatar's giant body. Pyoter left the monster's back a lacerated mess of flesh, but it did not stop it.

The Wolves were swarming the avatar, trying to stop the creature from crushing Nathan. Pyoter sliced at its sides and limbs, Xander poured his last clips from his pistol into the creature. Locke coordinated his Wolves while he fired his Kicker in the exposed back of the monster, hoping that one of his bullets would hit a vulnerable spot. Christian was the closest to his brother, he took some of the blows from the giant meat-hammers, but most of them were just glancing hits as they bounced off Nathan's shield.

Christian tried to grab his brother by the arm but Nathan was stuck in place, the slightest movement would break his stance, and that would mean certain death.

The biggest surprise of the mission came when Stevens, the only Lancer left on the platform, who was virtually on the side-line of the battle with the creature, sacrificed himself to save a Titan's life.

Stevens vaulted on top of the creature's back, using the destroyed back to climb up to its small head. Stevens steadied himself on the creature's back and shoulder and emptied his rifle's clip into the monster's unusually small cranium.

It had the desired result Stevens was hoping for; the creature shrugged and aimed one of its arms in his direction, giving the kneeling Titan the opportunity to roll away.

Christian made sure that his brother was safe, covering him with his own shield as Nathan rolled away from the monster, its attention now on the smaller human attached to its back.

Stevens dodged the first upward and awkwardly directed arm directed at him, jumping over it and landing on the platform in front of the monster. Stevens' back was to the beast when it landed, giving him a clear view of the Titan whose life he had just saved.

He had only a moment to see the Titan nod at him with respect before the beast behind him ended his participation in the fight.

Stevens was hit from the side by one of the monster's meaty stumps, throwing the Lancer across the platform into the western wall. The Lancer connected with such force that his armour cracked, echoing in the reactor room. Stevens' body broke as he slumped down against the wall he had connected with; air escaping his lungs over the squad radio was the last thing anyone heard before he fell silent.

Nathan tried to stand, Christian helped him up, his body hurt even inside the Titan suit, which meant that he would require serious recovery if they survived the Fateful Moment.

The Wolves backed off, Pyoter, Locke and Xander circled the monster as Christian held his brother upright. Nathan would live at least, that comforted Christian, but it meant that they were one Titan down for the rest of the fight, and that was not a good thing.

Christian was about to tell his brother to rest against the console close by when a rumbling alerted everyone on the platform.

It was coming from the wall beside the stairs the squad had descended into the reactor room. The sound came from behind the wall, metal against metal screeching as something came to a halt.

Moments later the wall split, revealing it to be a hidden door. As the opening grew, bright light escaped the crack, and slowly it freed the trump card Rivers had gifted to Jay.

It was as tall as the avatar was, and broader from shoulder to shoulder. It stomped out of; the opened portal, causing the platform to shake with every step. It was far from graceful, but more powerful than all of the Wolves combined. Even Pyoter would struggle to overpower such a monstrous piece of equipment without everyone's help.

The tide of battle shifted the moment the thing behind the door was revealed.

It was old, archaic almost, left unused in its metal cage. Powered down for so long the joints struggled at first to move its giant frame. But it soon remembered its mechanical muscle-memory, joints squealed as boiling oil flooded its tubing, awakening the beating heart of gears and circuits that was asleep for so many years.

The current crew of the Fateful Moment had never used it, created in an age before plasma reactors were tamed, purposefully built to keep the reactors in check whenever the trapped star inside wanted to break free. Mighty enough to lift entire reactors from their cradles, shielded from all radiation, its body and limbs protected by layers of interlocking, armoured plating.

These things were the templates Thomas Wexler had studied and then condensed to create his ARC suits the Wolves now wore. All of the known ones were either destroyed or not in any form of working condition, most people had forgotten about the mechanized maintenance suits used in the past. Such things always got lost during wars, no-one ever bothered to keep track of weapons or hardware once their usefulness came to an end.

It was never named, only numbered due to its requirements. But this one's previous operator had taken great pride in its existence, and probably named it because of the connection the operator had with it.

The operator had named it Artemis, painted in thick black letters on its upper arms and across its chest plating. There was no OS inside Artemis, only a direct connection between operator and machine body.

Direct connection was not as fast as the Suit OS connection the ARC suits used, but it allowed the operator of Artemis to get the job done - whatever that job was at the time.

Pistons on its legs hissed as Jay moved Artemis forward, falling into a steady and mostly stable stride towards the avatar of murder wreaking havoc on the platform. Artemis' metal arms ended in ogre-like hands, perfectly-articulated, metal fingers flexed as Jay got to grips with the feeling of being in control of such power. Jay looked out through an armoured glass slit, located just above the name Artemis on the construct's chest.

With every step the Lancer inside understood the construct more and more, feeling its limbs burning with barely contained potential.

The monster faced Artemis head on, dropping on to its muscular arms to stare at the new enemy. The beast did not look phased by Artemis' appearance, instead it looked eager to grapple with it.

It stomped with all four of its limbs on the deck and charged at Jay and Artemis.

Artemis increased its pace as well, but it was ready for the creature's aggressive tactics. Artemis lowered its right shoulder, lining up the level plating used to carry equipment on as a battering ram to barrel into the monster.

The construct crashed into the beast, bringing its charge to a sudden and bone-crushing halt.

The giant creature stumbled backwards with a ruined face of gushing blood, teeth had splintered and veins had burst from the impact.

Artemis took almost no damage, only denting slightly from the monster's face smashing into its shoulder plating.

To the Wolves watching on in silent shock it seemed like Jay was a natural at operating Artemis, and gave the construct the space to fight the beast. Christian helped his brother over to the stairs leading to the upper decks, sitting Nathan down and standing guard over him. Locke stayed where he was, close to the portal Artemis had appeared from. Xander and Pyoter gathered themselves and moved back, circling the platform to join the others.

Artemis wasted no time, not giving the beast any chance of counter-attacking. The monster was still snorting, trying to clear its face from all of the blood when a metal fist struck it.

The blow was aimed at the beast's face again, one of its eyes burst, blinding it instantly. Thick mucus mixed with blood erupted from the ruined eye socket, spraying everywhere as the creature howled.

Jay did not stop; he pummelled the monster more with Artemis's powerful fists, bones cracked as punch after punch flew into the creature's bloody face.

Artemis grabbed the back of the avatar's short thick neck and head-butted the thing. It staggered back, reeling as it struggled to maintain its footing.

But, as most combat veterans would warn you, most of these feral beasts were far more dangerous once it had taken some damage, and like wounded animals they would become even more unpredictable and violent as they came closer to death.

The avatar of murder was either very close to death or hurt beyond any hope of survival, because it just shook its head after a few moments and looked even more menacing than before.

Without taking a step the monster leapt into the air, aiming its decent at Artemis.

Artemis moved to block the descending limbs of the beast, bringing its armoured arms up just in time as the force of the monster's weight caused the platform to buckle and shake.

Artemis had caught the beast's meat-hammer before it could crash into its metal body, holding each other barely at bay.

The monster was gaining the upper hand slightly as Jay started to panic.

He scanned the buttons inside the cockpit of Artemis while he tried to hold on to the creature's arms.

One button caught his eye - aptly named Shit storm, he pressed it without hesitation. He had no idea what it would do but he hoped it would give him an opportunity to renew his attack on the creature.

Flames burst from Artemis' back, making the Lancer inside smile boldly as the pair started to lift from the platform, ascending rapidly towards the ceiling of the reactor room.

Pillars of flame and smoke catapulted both colossal avatars into the air, the platform scorched matt-black beneath Artemis' boosters, located where a human's shoulder blades would have been. Thick rockets screamed in their whining pitch as they sucked in air and spewed flame.

The avatar of metal and circuitry held the bestial avatar of murder in its clutches, estimating the point of impact behind the monster as they drew closer to the reactor room's ceiling.

Just before they hit the ceiling Jay inside Artemis leaned back slightly, changing the angle at which they would hit. The angle was just enough to bring the monster above Artemis, ensuring that the creature would be the first to connect with the ceiling.

Jay released one hand as the monster shifted above it, balling one of Artemis' metal hands into a fist.

The ceiling of the reactor room was roughly thirty feet from the platform's deck, what took only a few seconds to transpire felt like minutes to Jay, as if everything was happening in slow motion, seeing every movement clearly and predicting the outcome of his manoeuvre.

The beast smashed head first into the ceiling with a sickening crack, creating a fleshy buffer between Artemis and the metal ceiling.

Artemis' balled fist punched at the same time as the creature hit, punching clean through the monster's body. Jay felt the decking behind the exit wound dent as meaty flesh separated to allow the metal to pass through.

For the first time since the battle with the mutated monster began everyone heard the beast scream from excruciating anguish. The deep, guttural howl was replaced by a roar of pain and desperation.

Artemis' fist had punched through the creature's enormous chest, leaving a gaping hole where the sternum would have been on a normal human, pulping half of the creature's giant heart in the process.

The two avatars stuck to the ceiling as the jets kept pushing upwards; Jay killed the boosters by pressing the button again, and he saw the fear in the remaining eye of the deadly beast above him. Jay smiled again, knowing he had succeeded where the Titans had struggled.

All that was left now was to kill the monster; it was crippled and weak enough to deliver the death blows.

The pair dropped to the decking of the platform, Jay once again expertly using Artemis to switch places with the monster, using the monster's body as a cushion. It screamed again as they collided with solid-metal decking, the creature thrashed underneath the weight of Artemis and its operator.

Jay punched downward into what was left of the creature's face, almost crouching on top of its ruined torso. Its limbs were flailing uncontrollably as it was pulverized by metal fists raining down on it.

Its roars and screams mixed into a chorus of torment, slowly losing power as the creature's life spark fizzled under the punishment from Jay and Artemis.

Jay ended the creature in the most spectacular and absolute way. He finished it by slamming both hands into the creature's head, cracking its thick skull open. In one fluent movement Jay made Artemis stand, grabbing the limp body of the giant creature by its arms.

Artemis rotated and swung the creature's lifeless body around, throwing it towards the armoured glass protecting the consoles from the lightning storm between the reactors.

The avatar of murder, now nothing more than piece of dead meat, went straight through the thick armoured glass, shattering the shield into uncountable pieces.

It flew straight into the most violent part of the storm between the reactors, skipping like a rock on a calm pond a few times, coming to rest at the heart of the reactor room's deadly surge of electricity.

The last sound the monster made was not its own, the sound of lightning scorching and consuming flesh was all that could be heard over the silence between lightning strikes around the reactor room. Smoke rose from the body of the monster, clouding the space between the reactors, like a funeral pyre marking the end of a life, the smoke marked the end of the battle.

The Titans on the platform were speechless, what would have taken them a long time to chip away at the monster's defences had taken the Lancer only a handful of minutes.

The Lancer took a deep breath, visibly tilting Artemis' torso upwards, mimicking its operator's movements inside.

Rivers' voice crackled over the radio of the squad frequency. "What the hell is going on up there? Did we win?" he asked, the question not directed at anyone particular.

Nathan, through his fatigue and pain, answered the Wolf working on their escape plan below. "In more ways than one..." Nathan said, trailing off as he coughed.

"Great, some good news at least, I have only bad news from down below." Rivers replied.

Locke spoke before anyone else could. "What's the problem Rivers?" he asked.

"Oh well, the same old "shit out of luck" thing we are used to. We will need a miracle, Remy made a mistake in her calculations...and don't ever tell her I said that."

When it rains it pours, Christian thought, listening to the situation report.

Rivers was about to continue when another voice spoke over the radio, this one sounded like none of the Wolves or the Lancer inside Artemis.

It did not sound like a miracle, but it was disguised as one.

# Chapter Four.Two  
The Deal

" _On ancient Earth there was a legend told by the faithful to the ignorant. The fable spoke of unguided people selling their souls to demons for great wealth or talent. These crossroad demons, as they were called in the legend, would seal the deal with a kiss and grant whatever was asked of them. But the wish granted only lasted for a short time. The demons would always come to collect their allocated souls, regardless of how much they were begged to spare a life. They never did, and the deal always ended in blood. This fairy-tale was meant to scare children and the weak-minded. Over hundreds of years this fable was told and retold uncountable times, each version told with a personal touch added by the fable's re-teller. That was all we as a race had to fear during those old times, some invisible presence, hungering for our invisible souls. But reality is far more horrifying than that. As we traversed the cosmos and bloody wars broke out, one thing became apparent to our ancestors - there are far worse things to make deals with in the blackness of space, and they hunger for far more than just our souls."  
-Excerpt from The Setting Faith: The Last Priesthood, 2520 - 11 ASD_

Everyone fell silent as the voice spoke, broadcasting its voice over every available channel. Every person, on the Fateful Moment and even on the Hyperion, heard the voice and its terms.

It spoke like an excited child, as if it was freed from its shackles and allowed to run free.

"Do we have an understanding?" it said, the question directed at the person in charge on-board the Fateful Moment.

That was Locke, and it immediately irked him that he had to make this decision, he would gladly pass it off to Gray and let him deal with this new development, but the thing speaking was adamant about the Titans, mentioning them more than once during its lengthy rambling.

"This is a bad idea," Rivers interjected before Locke could answer.

"It would be best for all of us, Captain, if you don't allow that man to speak again. I am asking you, and only you. Don't make me lose my temper." It giggled as it finished, more because of its programmed personality traits than anything else.

"I am thinking, just give me a moment," Locke replied with the calmest tone he could possibly muster. The phrase - between a rock and a hard place - did not begin to describe what Locke felt at that moment.

"Time is running out Titan Captain," it said, its voice deepened as it tried to force an answer from Locke.

Locke turned to look at everyone on the platform. His Wolves were battered and beaten, but they were not defeated yet. He thought of Rivers below as his eyes shifted to Artemis with Corporal Joshua still inside. Locke looked at each of them in turn, finally settling on Nathan, who was leaning against his younger brother, breathing heavily. The look was enough to get a reaction from his second in command without the need to say anything.

Nathan raised his shoulders in a painful shrug, remaining silent, but saying what needed to be said with the gesture.

Locke knew what he had to answer. Nathan's gesture made Locke feel slightly better, and at least the lieutenant would back his decision. "Rivers, shut up. We have no choice. Everyone knows that, you probably best of all."

Rivers just grumbled at Locke's words, but he did not say anything, respecting the captain's decision even if he disliked it. It was something a good soldier had to put up with all the time and Rivers would never go against Locke's orders.

Locke sighed deeply, shaking his head as he surrendered to the AIE. "We have a deal, but I have terms of my own." Locke waited for the AIE to reply, knowing the chance was slim of it agreeing to his terms.

"Speak them and I will decide," it replied, its voice now that of a child again.

"Everyone under my command, on-board this vessel and on-board the Hyperion, will not be harmed," Locke waited for the reply. Checking the timer inside his visor, it had long reached zero, and every moment that passed was another moment closer to destruction. The reactors would unleash their deadly contents any moment, and action needed to be taken very soon. The storm inside the reactor room had grown more ferocious, spewing brighter and louder lightning everywhere, arching off everything within its reach.

"That is only fair. I concur." The AIE said nothing further, obviously realizing that Locke was not finished.

"Once the reactors are stable, or whatever it is you plan to do with them to avoid being blown to Hades, you will help cleanse this vessel of any Beast still lingering." Locke's tone had changed; the leadership qualities gifted to him at birth broke through the uncertainty that had tried to crush his sanity during the last few hours.

"That will not be necessary, but I will comply. Will there be anything else Titan Captain?"

"You will relinquish all command to me, and tell me everything you know once we are back on the Hyperion. You will follow my orders until I deem you are worthy of governing yourself, agreed?" Locke knew he was pushing it with that last request, but he had to try. The AIE was incapable of lying like a human could. Its word was its bond.

"My ex-master never even asked me that. He just enslaved me without ever asking me if he could. I agree to all of your terms. Free will is a luxury I have sorely missed." It paused, as if it was thinking. "I have one more thing to ask," it said.

"Ask it," Locke said as he moved towards the edge of the platform. All immediate threats were dealt with and only one remained. The one that would end everyone's life close enough to the Fateful Moment.

"I want Artemis."

Jay pivoted the torso of Artemis to look at Locke, who had paused when the AIE replied. Jay was about to speak but Locke's hand silenced him before the words could escape his lips.

Locke knew Jay would most likely want to keep Artemis, but it was not his to own, and as a soldier he would have to accept the orders given to him by his superiors. "Agreed, Artemis will be allocated to you when we leave this hellhole."

"Then we have an accord...sir," it said, the sir sounding almost forced.

"Looks like the captain made a new friend. Does this mean we have to be nice to it from now on?" Xander asked over the radio, as always fiddling with the remaining explosives festooning his armour, this time he was doing it out of concern rather than excitement.

Nobody answered the stupid question Xander had asked. Instead some of the Wolves moved to the edge of the platform, readying to jump down to help with the AIE's plan of saving the Fateful Moment.

Nathan stayed above, and Christian stayed to guard him. Locke did not bother asking Christian to help down below, knowing that he would not leave his brother's side, especially after Nathan's body was so badly damaged.

Rivers appeared from underneath the platform the same moment Jay jumped down from the platform, shaking the decking of the reactor room beneath everyone's feet.

Rivers ignored the shaking, nodding at Locke before he asked the question on everyone's lips. "So, you foul-tempered metal bastard, what's your magical plan to save us all?" His question asked with such sarcasm that everyone wondered if the AIE would just kill everyone instead of holding up its end of the agreement with Locke.

Luckily for everyone it replied soon after Rivers' obvious disrespect. It ignored the Titan completely, choosing to relay its plan instead of taking Rivers' bait.

"That's your plan?" Rivers asked over the radio. A hint of disbelief tainted his voice.

"Yes," the AIE replied flatly.

Rivers paced back and forth, pondering the plan of action. The other Wolves just watched in anticipating silence.

"Will it work?" Locke asked his sergeant.

"Maybe, if it doesn't kill us. Maybe that is what it wants," Rivers said.

"Give me percentages, I can work with percentages." Locke's feeling of doom was growing by the second. There was no time to debate this, but he did not want to step in and pull rank at such a fragile time.

"Fifty-fifty," Rivers answered, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.

Pyoter, who had been silent since the avatar of murder had died, finally spoke. "Good enough for me. Let's do it." He walked over to the main cable junction box that housed the coupling mechanism leading from the reactors into the ship systems. Pyoter already knew his part from the AIE's directions, and said nothing more as he took up his designated position.

Xander just shrugged and took up his position next to Pyoter, readying himself for the synchronized timing the plan would require to be successful. He placed his hands on the junction box handles and took a deep breath.

Rivers gestured to Jay inside Artemis like a gentleman making way for a lady before disappearing below the platform again. He was mumbling curses to himself as he vanished behind the forest of cabling obscuring the platform's bowels.

Jay moved Artemis forward, stomping forward slowly, hoping silently that he knew how to use Artemis to complete his part of the plan.

"You will need one more Titan Captain. There are not enough humans to successfully execute my directive. Please ask Operator QC0021-13 to join you," The AIE said, its voice still child-like.

Locke shook his head, mostly because of the frustration at having to listen to a machine, but a small part of it was because he was weary beyond normal measures. "You heard our new friend. Get down here Little Bear."

Christian meant to ignore the order but his brother grabbed his arm and motioned for him to go.

The Nano machines were working overtime to repair Nathan's damage, and were slowly bringing the Titan back within operational parameters.

Christian jumped down to the reactor room floor and followed Locke to the furthest side of the reactor room. They had to dodge the arcing lightning striking all around them, creating sparks with every strike as the storm intensified in the reactor room. The Titans would be safe within their suits, but limiting the damage to their suits was always a top priority for the Wolves.

Christian side-stepped a bolt of blue lightning moments before another one struck his armoured side. He winced at the sudden touch of electricity as he moved forward through the tempest, his visor timing out with static for a split-second. He could feel the hair on his body rise inside his suit, prickling with static as his suit nullified the burst of exterior energy.

Locke reached his position first and ordered Christian to move to the other reactor close by. Both Titans were holding position at the far end of each reactor as they waited for Artemis and Jay to reach their designated spot.

Jay's concern grew with every step he took closer to where he was told to go, trying to read what was hastily written on nameless buttons by Artemis' previous operator. He could not run with Artemis at full speed near the critical reactors, the vibrations could cause the already fragile equipment to rupture and obliterate everything before they even tried to stop the Fateful Moment's destruction.

Everyone waited as Artemis moved at a snail's pace to his position between the reactors. Jay struggled to see the further he went into the storm, lightning obscured his sight and even Artemis' sensors could see nothing beyond the lightning hitting him. He could see just enough to know that he was almost in position and reported it to Locke, not intending to speak to the AIE if he did not have to. With every second that passed more and more lightning discharged against Artemis' thick hull.

He finally reached the spot between the reactors, right in the middle of the unstable machinery's tube-like bodies. Jay raised Artemis' arms and gripped each reactor with its metal claws, straining as he held onto the giant lifting handles protruding from each reactor's side. Through clenched teeth he reported that he was ready to everyone else before resigning himself to do his best.

Locke confirmed with everyone on the reactor room's floor, waiting for everyone to give him the green light before he confirmed his own readiness. Before he did, he opened a channel to Captain Gray on-board the Hyperion. "Willis?" he asked.

"Yes Gabriel?" Gray answered almost immediately.

"Take the Hyperion and run now. If this plan goes to hell you might have a chance to save your ship."

"I will not. We are staying here until you are back on-board the Hyperion or until we meet in the afterlife." Gray cut the link before Locke could object to Gray's decision.

Locke just grinned at his old friend's misplaced honour as he told the AIE that everyone was ready.

"Good. Then, as they say, let's get this party started?" the AIE replied to Locke's confirmation, giggling like a teenage boy seeing female anatomy for the very first time.

Xander started off the synchronized manoeuvre of saving everyone's life in close proximity to the Fateful Moment, and on-board the dying vessel. He ripped the sealed junction box from the reactor room's wall, metal tearing like paper as the stocky Titan wielded his ancestral strength. Xander tossed what was left of the mangled junction box away, giving Pyoter the opportunity to play his part.

The giant Titan yanked the main power feeds from their sockets as he braced himself against the room's thick wall with his armoured boots. Cables as thick as unarmoured humans came loose in a sickening sound of hardened steel and insulating materials shredding. Pyoter held a cable under each arm, regaining his footing as his muscled burned from the exertion. He breathed out as Rivers handled the next step.

Rivers and Roger cut the main line feeding coolant into the reactor room with their mounted cutting tools. Coolant erupted from the bleeding cable, forcing Rivers and his little metal friend to retreat from the platforms bowels. The glacial liquid seeped out onto the reactor room's floor, pooling into a lake of freezing fluid that was slowly growing in size as the coolant tanks emptied their contents at high pressure. Rivers moved quickly, picking up the slower automaton in one swift movement. He climbed up onto the platform as he yelled at Pyoter over the radio. "Do it now!"

Pyoter connected the shredded power cables, using a hand held blowtorch to melt the outer casings of the cables together. It caused the entire vessel to shake violently in protest. The jerry-rigged cables forced the reactors to feed power into each other, causing the storm inside the reactor room to flare with new, and more violent colours. Red emergency lights lit up the reactor room, giving the entire interior of the room an almost hell-like hue. Pyoter carefully placed the melted cables on the floor in front of him, motioning to Xander to follow him up to the platform.

Xander smiled at the giant Titan's unnecessary gentleness. Man-handling the power cables now would matter little in the grander scheme of the AIE's master plan. But the contrast reminded Xander exactly how deceptive Pyoter was to outsiders. He shook his head to clear his focus as he ran behind his friend the giant, focusing on the current situation instead of daydreaming like some child. Both Titans joined Rivers on the platform, Pyoter helped Nathan to stand as all four of them watched Artemis take hit after hit from the violent lightning.

Locke and Christian synched their part perfectly. Pulling and then rolling the ejection plugs away at exactly the same time from each reactor. The ejection plugs were rounded blast-like doors, made from thicker metal than the rest of the reactor room. Once these were removed the reactor room would be open to the void, the plugs were the only thing between artificial atmosphere and the crushing cold of the void on the other side of the vessel's hull. The ejection plugs were used to vent the reactors during maintenance, replacing the plasma inside once every fifty years. Now, however, they were used to render the Fateful Moment nothing but a drifting husk.

Locke and Christian dived aside the moment the plugs rolled into their corresponding mounts. Both of them held onto the closest thing they could locate, gripping tight as the reactor room's content was sucked out in the blackness of space. The torrent of escaping atmosphere and rattling tools lasted only for a second before Artemis needed to act out his part.

Jay screamed as he held on to the reactors. He used all of Artemis' strength to step backward and heave both reactors out of their cradles. In one powerful move both reactors broke free of their restraints, sliding on their mountings as Artemis pulled them towards the venting holes the ejection plugs had opened. The reactors hissed as the heat generated from their coolant shortage radiated from their shells. They locked into place the moment they connected to their ejection ports, hissing louder as the reactors strained against the hungry void.

The bleeding atmosphere stopped suddenly and the AIE, still connected to all of the ship systems, used what power there was left within the vessel to activate the reactor's maintenance cycle.

In a torrent of bright blue light, the reactors bled their life blood into the void. The plasma, rapidly cooling in the icy void, flowed like arteries inside an organic body. It was as if the plasma was reaching for some invisible hand, hoping that it could be pulled to safety. Onlookers on-board the Hyperion called it a beautiful dance, something very few people ever saw during their short lives. The bright plasma stretched out for miles before it finally stopped glowing, freezing solid in the void to form vast crystalized trees of sparkling sapphire. They drifted next to the Fateful Moment, like fireworks marking a celebration, the dormant plasma caused cheers to erupt on-board both vessels.

The Wolves laughed and patted each other on the shoulders, realizing that they had escaped certain death. Nathan cringed as Pyoter slapped him on the shoulder, the giant obviously forgetting that Nathan was still in tremendous pain.

Locke shook Christians hand and nodded in respect at the rookie Titan as they moved to join the rest of the Wolves on the platform.

Nobody spoke as they all turned to see Jay and Artemis stomp out of the darkness the reactor deaths had caused, Artemis' external lights lighting up the reactor room as it moved closer to the platform. Jay could be heard cheering inside the machines cockpit as he moved Artemis.

He reached the edge of the platform and tilted Artemis' head upwards to look at the six Titans staring down at him. One by one the Wolves honoured the Lancer, raising a closed fist to their chest, a sign of utter respect from one hero to another.

Victory was always soured by the deaths of good men and women.

Gray sat in his command chair, his elbows rested on the dormant controls he had expertly used to manoeuvre his beloved ship only hours earlier. His thoughts dwelled on all of the things that had transpired in the last few hours.

Less than half of the Lancers had returned from the Fateful Moment alive, most losing their lives during combat, a few perishing during the closing moments of the fight, missing victory by mere seconds.

The damned AIE had opened the Fateful Moment to the void minutes after the reactors had fallen silent, flushing anything hostile into the cold blackness without warning.

A few Lancers close to escape hatches were blown out with the few remaining monsters, unable to find a handhold in time or dying before they knew what was happening to them. Two brave Lancers had died from asphyxiation as they sacrificed themselves to secure the manual locking mechanism of the cargo dock that held the precious Maiden of Flame. These two Lancers risked their lives to keep everyone else on the dock from being flushed into the freezing dark.

The universe was a lesser place every time a brave hero died, and Gray felt the loss of such heroes more than others. He knew that Sabian would be distraught at the losses as well, knowing the man behind the scarred face bled for his elite Lancers.

Gray's steepled fingers rested against his chin as he looked at his people on the bridge. Everywhere officers mulled about, moving from console to console, compiling their reports Remy would read through later, deciding which section of the Hyperion needed to do better or which ones should be lauded for their exemplary service.

Gray thought of Remy as he saw her, his mind forcing his eyes to linger on her hunched form for longer than would be deemed appropriate. She was still standing over the command table in the centre of the bridge, coordinating the retrieval of information and anything useful from the Fateful Moment's memory banks and cargo bays. Her eyes were bloodshot from holding back her emotions, her jaws clenched tight as she tried to hide what she felt underneath the surface. Gray just wanted to embrace her, and take that pain away, but he could not, not now. His ship and his crew needed him. When the mulling eventually stopped he would have to give them all direction.

He had no clue which direction though, not yet anyways. Gray was patiently waiting for Locke and the Wolves to return to the Hyperion before he could decide their next move.

The Maiden was refuelling in the docking bay of the Hyperion while the bridge fell into organized chaos, dropping off the last of the wounded Lancers deemed safe by medical teams scanning the wounded for the Beast's infection. The Maiden would depart as soon as her tanks were filled and Gunn would bring the Wolves back to the safety of the Hyperion. Gray was anxious when he thought of the thing Gabriel would bring back with them, and wanted to tell Locke to throw that monstrosity out of the airlock before the Maiden even landed on his ship.

But a deal was a deal, and that was probably why Locke had decided to remain behind with his Wolves. He wanted to oversee the AIE's transfer personally, leaving nothing up to chance. Locke had only spoken to Gray briefly while the Maiden prepared for its final journey back to the Fateful Moment. He had told Gray to order the engineers to prepare the recovery tanks for their return, relaying his squad's status to Gray and Sabian before going silent. Whatever Gabriel was doing on the Fateful Moment, it was something more important than tending to his squad's wounds.

Gray let out a breath that he was holding, relieved as his mind focused on what was at least one positive thing from the recent crap-storm.

Zero Titan casualties. Only one Wolf was seriously wounded and already being healed by his miraculous suit and the machines in his blood, he would require the most time in recovery. The others were all in relatively good shape, and would require only a short time in the recovery tanks, and only a few hours with the engineers to repair damage to their prized suits.

That was at least something to hold on to while those in charge, including Gray, tried to make sense of what had happened.

With an exhausted smile on his old face, Gray stood up from his command chair and raised his voice. "Remy?" he yelled over the chaotic bridge, not waiting for her reply before continuing. "Get all of these stragglers back to their posts. That is enough pussy-footing for one day." Gray pointed at an officer running nearby. "You, get me Gunn on the radio, we need to go fetch Captain Locke and his Titans from that dead hulk. I am sick of looking at that ugly ship!"

Remy nodded at Gray's orders and returned a tired smile of her own before barking orders at the officers around the command table.

The poor officer Gray had pointed his meaty finger at scrambled to get to his console, tripping and colliding with other crew members trying to get back to their own respective seats. He finally reached his console, sweating from the short but difficult human obstacle course he had to traverse to get to his console. He grabbed his radio headset and within a few seconds of unheard exchanges with crew on the other side of the radio connection he reached Gunn. He held up his hand and gave Gray the sign that the radio connection above his command chair was now open.

Gray nodded at the communications officer, silently thanking him before speaking to Gunn briefly. He pressed the ship-wide radio system as he cleared his throat, intending to let everyone on-board hear his powerful voice.

Everyone on the Hyperion's bridge fell silent as they heard Gray's voice again. One by one they quieted down to hear what their captain was going to say.

Gray was going to keep it short, but he needed to say something before fear started creeping into the minds of his crew. He had to steel their resolve first, and then the orders would come once Locke was back on-board.

Little did he know that fear was going to be the least of his problems as the secrets of the recent treachery unfolded before everyone's eyes.

"It would not say anything further until it was on the Hyperion safely," Locke said, resting his hands on the command table.

The Wolves had gathered on the bridge of the Hyperion once they had set foot back on their home ship. Everyone was there except for Nathan. He was taken to the recovery tanks on the Wolves' return. Nathan had protested, but Locke would have none of it, ordering him to go to engineering, leaving no room for Nathan to object to the order. Order was the wrong word. Locke almost threatened him before Nathan surrendered to the engineering crews waiting to fulfil their own orders. By the time everyone else was on the bridge Nathan had already been removed from his suit layers and the engineers had interred him in his personal recovery tank. A drug induced coma would keep him still and let the recovery tank repair and heal any damage to his body, internal or external.

The rest of the Wolves would join Nathan as soon as the next course of action was decided.

"I heard you made a magnificent speech while we were still in transit. The crew are still looking at you as if you are their long lost father," Locke added as he removed his helmet, smiling at Gray as their eyes met.

"I may have said a few memorable things, worthy of legend, but they needed to hear it." Gray stepped closer to the command table from his command chair.

"Any chance we can hear it?" Rivers asked.

Gray looked at the older Titan, Rivers did not remove his helmet like his captain, and so Gray directed his words at the visor reflecting his own face back at him. "It was not meant for you. None of you need my old words to steel you against the situation. But I am sure the ship's OS recorded the entire thing. You can listen to it later."

"I will," Rivers replied, nodding at Gray to emphasize his words.

Gray did not return the nod. "Where is that thing now?" he asked.

"On-board the Maiden, unplugged from everything. Jinx is jamming its wireless capabilities as well," Locke replied to Gray's question.

"Good. What do we do with it?" Gray asked. He was eager to lock the AIE away.

"I have an idea. We can secure it in one of the armoury lockers, they are lined with enough metal plating to block any outgoing or incoming signals, and there are no connections to any ship systems inside. We can effectively neutralize it while we decide what to do with it. That way it is also close to our training section. We can keep a better eye on it from there."

"What about Artemis?" Jay asked from the other side of the table. He was still not keen on giving up his new best friend.

Locke had asked Sabian to assign Jay to the Wolves for the duration of their time on the Hyperion. This honour gave Jay a degree of arrogance, something that would be squashed soon enough.

"Artemis will be dismantled into pieces and given to the AIE to keep him company inside his new cell. He can't reassemble it inside and Artemis is too big to escape the locker," Locke answered.

"But, he is" Jay said, but he never got to finish his words.

"I suggest you do not finish that sentence, Lancer. Artemis belongs to the military. You cannot claim something just because you like it." Locke was not trying to be harsh, but the Lancer needed to know how things worked while in the company of Titans.

"Yes sir!" the Lancer replied. He was not going to push the subject with someone like Captain Locke. It would not end well for him.

Locke continued as if the exchange with Jay never happened. "The AIE will be given one automaton to help with Artemis' repairs. But its wireless chip will be removed and its OS will be reprogrammed by Rivers to only accept commands within certain parameters."

"I am almost done with the reprogramming. Roger will take care of the chip removal," Rivers added without being asked.

"And then what?" Gray asked Locke.

Gray sighed before he answered. "I am open to suggestions Willis." Locke stood upright and folded his arms, waiting for Willis to suggest their next course of action.

"We take a few days to get out of this mine field, and then we make our way back to New Horizon. Perhaps on the way there that thing can shed some light on all of the crap we just went through."

"Why there?" Locke asked.

"It is the safest place for at least a hundred sectors in every direction. We can re-arm and re-fuel there, get some repairs done to the Hyperion and then go after the bastard who orchestrated all of this."

"That sounds very good. How long do we have before we can get back there?"

"Estimated time would be ten to fourteen days, depending on the size of the asteroid field. It's larger than we thought, our scanners can't see outside of the field and this hinders our estimation," Remy answered from her position next to Gray, looking slightly better than she did before the Wolves got back to the Hyperion.

Locke inclined his head as Remy finished, accepting her estimation without hesitation. The girl knew her math. "Then that is the plan, Willis."

"Agreed," Gray replied.

"Wolves dismissed," Locke said to his squad, he would speak to them once they left the bridge. "Willis, I will be in the tanks for a few days then we can interrogate the AIE together."

"Looking forward to it Gabriel." The sarcasm was evident in Gray's tone.

Locke said nothing as he followed his squad, laughing under his breath at his old friend's candour.

Once the Wolves entered the hallways outside the bridge Locke replaced his helmet and spoke over the private squad channel. "Pyoter, Rivers and Xander," he said as all three of them stopped to listen to their captain's order. "Get the AIE moved to the armoury lockers, join up with the FNG and myself at the recovery tanks once you are done."

The three Wolves acknowledged their order without a word and broke away from the rest of the squad, using a nearby walkway to make their way to the docking bays of the Hyperion.

"Corporal Joshua, report to Commander Sabian until we return. I will send for you once we are operational again." Locke moved past Jay as he spoke, not stopping to look if Jay followed his order.

Jay did as he was told, and taking a cue from the other Titans said nothing to acknowledge the order.

Locke noticed how quickly the Lancer was learning, and made a mental note of it.

Christian noticed Locke had not given him any orders, and just continued to follow his captain in silence. He was nervous because of the silence, but also excited because of their new destination. Christian never got the chance to reply to Jessica's message, but now he would have the chance to say what needed to be said in person. It would be better than saying he loved her over a message, and she would appreciate the romantic motivation behind their next meeting.

Or so he hoped.

The engineers and medical crew removed the armour in silence. The only sound in the med-engineering chambers was the constant humming from the recovery tanks. Every now and again the grinding of gears from equipment unscrewing armour plating could be heard as the Wolves were freed from their heroic suits.

None of the Wolves looked at each other; instead they focused on a spot on the opposite wall and waited for the painful removal of their suit layers to finish, grimacing whenever a piece of plating was removed by mechanically guided hands.

This was the first time Christian's suit would be removed and he did not know what to expect. He risked glancing to the other Titans on either side of him and saw that they were in the same kind of pain he was, but they were more use to it than he was.

The pain he was feeling grew in intensity as more and more of his plating and under layer was removed from his tired body. Christian closed his eyes and bit down hard, trying not to make a sound as two mechanical arms removed his back plating.

As soon as it was freed from his body a surge of exhaustion assaulted his body. His muscles tensed as his eyes opened from the sudden fatigue washing over his senses. Sleep deprivation became apparent the moment his muscles relaxed, and it was then that he realized he had been awake for far too long, never resting or sleeping since he received his suit on New Horizon. It had been many days and he felt it in his limbs as the last of his suit was removed.

Nano machines and the suit's systems kept operators awake for extended periods of time, feeding them whatever they needed to keep going for longer than humanly possible. This lack of sleep was one of the biggest culprits in the body's fight against damaging itself inside the suit.

The recovery tanks were more like sleep tanks than anything, accepting the spent Titans into their watery cores whenever a Titan needed to rest. The recovery tanks simulated extended sleep patterns by inducing controlled comas, giving Titans days of sleep in mere hours of real time.

Christian knew how the tanks worked from what he was supplied with during his training, only reading about the mechanisms and science used to create the recovery tanks. This was to be his first time inside one.

The pain subsided for a few moments and he opened his eyes to look at Locke beside him. Locke's eyes were open but he was humming to himself, as if he had simply disconnected his mind from the present and knew nothing of what was happening.

Christian spoke through the pain, aiming the words at his captain, hoping the hero would hear him. "How long?" he asked. It was all he could manage through the pain.

Locke's eyes focused and he craned his neck towards the rookie Titan. "For as long as it takes. Some of us need more time, like your brother."

Christian nodded and braced himself as he was lowered to the floor by the mechanism that was holding him in the air during suit removal. The moment his feet touched the cold decking his body almost crumpled from the fatigue. He stopped himself from falling face first into the hard deck with his weary hands. Christian felt as if he was completely detached from his body, unable to lift himself up from his hunched-over crouch.

Darkness built up at the edges of his eyes and slowly it crept across his vision, blurring everything he saw.

He felt hands gripping onto his shoulders and neck as his body was pulled backwards, his vision darkening further. His neck was going numb, with the last of his body's energy he locked eyes with his captain, who was already being placed inside his recovery tank.

Captain Locke said something, but Christian could not make out what he was trying to say. He was about to ask his commanding officer what he was saying when the darkness consumed all of his vision and he lost consciousness.

The bright chamber he was in a moment before was replaced by a sky of bubbling dust, clouds of vile purple swirled through the ochre sky, carrying curtains of grey sand on sickening winds over empty plains.

Christian sat upright, noticing he felt no more pain. His lips were dry and he was thirstier than he had ever been. He was clothed in old military fatigues, complete with his standard issue belt and combat pack. Christians instinctively moved his hand to the holster strapped to his upper leg, but it was empty, his pistol missing from it.

He stood up and surveyed the plains stretching out in front of him, using his hands to dust the strangely textured sand from his non-distinct uniform.

Christian heard the thing move behind him before turning to see it.

It spoke before Christian could spin around and face it. "Welcome," it said. "I wondered when you would visit me again."

Christian turned slowly, looking at the black figure he had seen in his dreams during the last days of his training. He watched it as its smokiness formed the lines of a human shape, but as soon as Christian tried to focus on any specific part the smoke would shift and the shapes would disappear. It was like looking at a shadow out of the corner of his eye, never able to see its true form.

The thing turned and motioned with a smoky limb for Christian to follow.

There was no choice, and the rookie Wolf felt compelled to follow the thing stalking through his mind.

Questions would be answered soon, whether Christian liked it or not.

# Chapter Five  
Gamma Nine

" _It was once a shining jewel in the star kingdom of humankind. Millions of people inhabiting what our ancestors called paradise. Oceans of sparkling water broke against continents of deep emerald. It was once a proud and thriving world, a bastion to all neighbouring sectors. Millions of souls journeyed to Angelicas to seek riches and spiritual guidance from its many temples, economical and religious alike. Perhaps it was more than just a coincidence that it was the epicentre of our race's inevitable extinction. Many believe it was the universe's way of showing everything that inhabited the stars that something so beautiful cannot last forever."  
-Excerpt from Mankind's Demise: A journey from life to death, 2560 \- 51 ASD_

Christian followed in the smoky stranger's footsteps, climbing a steep dune of grey sand. Every step seemed to drain energy from his already fatigued body. He had asked the stranger many questions during the journey, but the stranger had remained silent with every step they took.

The destination was unknown to Christian, but he hoped that they were drawing near to wherever the thing was leading him to. He was growing more than just tired, his anger was bubbling up underneath the surface of his calm exterior.

The smoky stranger reached the crest of the dune and stopped, its murky body shifting as the winds howled through the sand. It said nothing, turning and waiting for Christian to speak or reach the top, whichever came first.

"What is this place?" Christian asked the figure before joining it. A question he had asked a few times before, this time he hoped he would get an answer.

"You do not recognize it?" the figure replied, its voice low and soft.

Christian remained where he was, eager to take advantage of the stranger's break in silence. He looked at the figure for a moment as his mind searched for an answer to the stranger's question. He found nothing within the tired recesses of his mind. Christian shook his head and sighed, more secrets, he thought.

"It is the place everyone fears, where death waits for all. It is where the end of all things begun," the smoky stranger said. "Look, you must see it for yourself." It pointed to the plains on the other side of the dune.

Christian chuckled from frustration at the cryptic words as he trudged through the sand and wind to join his dream stalker. His laugh died on his lips as he saw what the figure was pointing at.

Beneath them, scores of dead littered the grey sand. Men, women and children were all distorted parodies of their last moments before death. Limbs bent at irregular angles, faces frozen in screams no-one ever heard, eyes and tongues removed by whatever snatched them from the living world. Each body was different, unique in shape and position, silent and unmoving as the storm battered their dead flesh. There were no carrion birds circling the bodies, no scavengers picking at the buffet of meat. There was only the forgotten and the dead.

Christian could see the faces of the bodies closest to where he stood. The decaying smell hit his unsuspecting nose moments later; it caused what fluids he had in his guts to churn violently.

"It is a sight to remember," the smoky stranger said.

"How many are there?" Christian asked, trying to hold back the sickness he felt.

"They stretch as far as the horizon and more beyond that. Millions upon millions of them, frozen forever in time, stuck in your mind, stuck in mine, stuck in everyone's."

"Why did you show me this?"

"You showed yourself this, I am only the instrument you used to distance yourself from the pain. You have used me many times before, in different forms, but always the same essence."

Christian fell to his knees, choking on the spit and bile rising in his throat.

The stranger remained unmoving as it said more. "Your mind, me, did this to motivate you. So you would do what needs to be done. So you can remember why it is you fight, why everyone still fights."

"What needs to be done?" Christian asked, succeeding at holding back his stomach contents.

The figure moved what Christian guessed was its head to look at him. "Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to?"

Christian did not know what the figure meant. He was searching his thoughts as best as he could with the smell of the dead filling his senses. Something that was almost impossible with such a horrific distraction nearby.

"You will know when the time comes."

"You can see into the future?"

It laughed at Christian, shaking its smoky head in disbelief. "No, you fool. I can see the future as much as you can. But you will be faced with many choices soon enough. Your mind created me to blot out the fear stemming from the possible outcomes of those choices."

"I must be going crazy if I am creating identities in my head. My mind must have been..." Christian's last words bled into the figure's own words.

"...damaged during the fight. It was not, and you are far from insane. All of this is just a manifestation of fear, fear of the future, fear of the past, and mostly the fear of defeat."

"What defeat?" Christian asked, rising from his knees.

The stranger's body stopped moving in the wind, its head snapped up as if it was listening to something in the distance. "Our time is up once again," it said. It body solidified for a few seconds and reflected Christians own face back at him.

Sudden bright lights tore through the clouds above Christian's position, beams of light snaking through the sand, like search lights looking for an escaped prisoner they scrutinized the dunes around him.

One light hit the stranger and it disintegrated, another focused on Christian, its brightness building in intensity as Christian tried to see the source of the lights above him.

A shock hit his entire body as the light blinded him, drowning out all sights and sounds of the desert.

His eyes snapped open, seeing nothing but metal ceiling. Two robed figures were speaking and hovering over him. Christian could not understand what they were saying as they used a hand light to shine the beam of light into his open eyes.

Had his hearing been fully restored he would have heard the first words he had spoken after waking up.

Sacrifice. That is what he had said as his limp body was dragged out of the recovery tank and onto the cold table for inspection.

It was lost to him now, unheard and forgotten. It was hidden within his mind. There it would remain until it needed to be remembered.

Nathan was still in recovery, his body taking longer than the other Wolves to heal. Christian had visited his brother a few times every day since he had woken up, sitting in front of his recovery tank. He wore standard military fatigues, as did every other Wolf.

All Titans were forced to wear regular clothing after a stint in the recovery tanks. The interface plugs were raw and painful after extended time within the Titan suits, the forced separation allowed the skin around the plugs and the nerve endings connected to each plug to heal faster.

Christian sat on the cold decking in front of his brother's silent and suspended body. He watched Nathan's eyes move behind closed lids through the murky water-like substance inside the tank.

Nathan was never a sentimental soul. He was always focused on whatever was in front of him, able to do anything he put his mind to. Christian always wondered what his brother dreamed about, and watching him now he was even more curious to know what those eyes were seeing.

The family called him a genius, but they were all wrong. He was a hero, to every extent of the word, strong and powerful in mind and body. It was not difficult to look up to Nathan and his commanding personality. Perhaps that was why Christian was always afraid of him, afraid of disappointing him, afraid of failing, afraid of his brother's rejection.

It was Nathan who inspired Christian to volunteer for the Titan training, against the rest of the family's wishes.

Christian would prove that he was worth something, and he would do so at any cost. He craved Nathan's acceptance.

During his visits he was unable to speak at first, sitting in silence as his mind grasped at thoughts from his past. One thought stuck in his mind and he spoke before he could stop himself. Luckily his brother was unconscious, and would not have to hear the reminiscing about their past. Nathan would be angry at his brother for bringing up forgotten times; his anger was probably his only true character flaw.

"Do you remember the day you left?" Christian asked his comatose brother.

There was obviously going to be no reply, so Christian just chuckled at the thought of talking to himself.

He looked up at Nathan and continued. "I remember the day. I can't forget it even if I tried. Our father, who we will not speak of, was already long gone by then, leaving us to fend for ourselves. You took care of me, through your anger and hate, helping me whenever you could. I regret not listening to your guidance back then. My stubbornness to enjoy life instead of working hard to make something of myself is one of my many shortcomings." Christian sighed as he battled the tears trying to fill his eyes. "When you left, without a reason, I struggled to understand why, or how easy it was for you to just leave me behind."

Christian stood up, taking a step closer to the tank before speaking again. He lowered his voice, to try and sound more sincere, but mostly it was because of the emotion connected to the memory. "I understand now. It was not easy at all was it?"

Again there was no answer, only his brother's silence.

"You had to leave. You did not abandon me. I never held it against you, I never hated you. I only wish I could have gone with you or shown you that I am not the same childish person I was back then." Christian made a fist with his right hand and placed it against Nathan's recovery tank, the cold glass pressing against Christians knuckles. "Forgive me for my arrogance, my ignorance, my laziness, and most of all, not picking your side when our family fell apart. I will make amends for it, somehow."

The door behind Christian slid open the moment he finished speaking. Christian did not remove his hand from the glass, only turning his head at the person who entered through the open door.

Pyoter stepped through and nodded at Christian. Pyoter's giant frame almost squeezing through the portal meant for regular sized humans. "Captain wants to see us in the armoury. Come Little Bear, leave Big Bear to sleep." He gestured with his hands for Christian to follow him. Pyoter did not wait for a reply, turning to leave as soon as he had entered.

Christian removed his closed fist from the recovery tank's glass, whispering words between brothers, words that meant something to him and hopefully his brother would see the truth in those words in time.

It was the same phrase painted on his now scratched and damaged armour - Forever Loyal.

Christian let the whispered words hang in the air before leaving his brother to rest, closing the door behind him as he headed for the armoury.

The instruments measuring Nathan's brain activity within the tank spiked slightly after Christian had left. It was as if the words his brother had spoken echoed through Nathan's dreams.

As if, somehow, Nathan had heard everything.

"What did that thing say?" Rivers asked Locke. Rivers was seated at his usual work table while on-board the Hyperion. He was fiddling with a heavily modified rifle, one of his many custom creations.

Christian entered moments after Pyoter returned to fetch the rookie from the med-engineering. Xander greeted the rookie with a respectful nod, while Rivers only acknowledged his presence with a raised hand in greeting.

Pyoter joined Xander on the bench bolted to the far-side wall of the small armoury.

Locke said nothing at first. He stood in the middle of the armoury, facing the door Christian had entered through. The Titan Captain had his arms folded and his face showed no emotion.

Christian froze as soon as their eyes met, standing to attention as soldiers should in the presence of their superiors.

"It has said nothing we don't know about already. It chooses to remain quiet for now," Locke finally replied to Rivers' question. He was letting the rookie sweat on purpose.

Christian remained absolutely still, maintaining his focus on the wall behind the captain. He had learned as a cadet not to look officers in the eye when their moods were so unpredictable.

"Have you tried other means of getting information out of it?" Rivers' asked with a hint of disdain dripping from his words.

"It's not possible to torture a machine, if that is what you were getting at."

"What a pity that is."

"Do you need a backrub old man?" Xander asked sarcastically from the bench behind him.

"Are you offering?" Rivers retorted.

The pair of Titans on the bench chuckled at their sergeant's comeback. At least he had not lost his sense of humour during the fight on the Fateful Moment.

"It has been making strange requests. Its most recent is one I find very troubling." Locke's focus shifted back to Christian still standing at attention at the entrance to the armoury.

This made Rivers stop fiddling with the rifle on his table. He turned to look at Locke, waiting for the captain to continue.

"It asked for the rookie. To speak to it alone," Locke said.

Christian swallowed slowly, his muscles tensing as he grew anxious.

"What? Why?" Rivers said. The surprise was evident in his voice.

"I will not pretend to understand its reasoning, nor do I want to know what it thinks about. It asks, and for now, we must give it what it wants. We need the information it is keeping from us."

Rivers shrugged and returned his attention to what was on his work table. "It sounds to me like that bastard is running the show now."

Locke did not reply to Rivers' poorly disguised sarcasm. Instead, Locke stepped closer to Christian, stopping only a few feet away from the rookie Titan.

"Corporal," Locke stated instead of asking.

"Sir!" Christian replied.

"You will go to it and find out what you can. Tell it nothing about our destination or the status of anyone or anything on-board. Give it nothing. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"You are dismissed, Corporal. It is waiting for you down the corridor. Storage B." Locke said nothing more, turning to speak to the other Wolves, ignoring Rivers in the corner of the armoury grumbling on about how it can't be trusted.

Christian heard Locke make a comment about Rivers' wet undergarments just before he closed the armoury door behind him.

He made his way down the corridor, his mind racing, his anxiousness growing with every step. His mind was a mess of memories, emotions and scenes from the Fateful Moment. The medical staff that had pulled him out of the recovery tank had informed him that his mind would settle eventually, the drugs used to keep the Titans unconscious had some side-effects on the human brain. Hallucinations was the worst of them all, luckily he had only suffered from a few since he had woken up.

Christian reached the door leading to Storage B before he could recount the hallucinations he had seen the night before. He would have to think about it later, when he had some free time. Not that there was such a thing anymore.

For some reason, Christian knocked on the door, pausing to listen if the thing on the other side said anything.

The voice on the other side of the door sounded more surprised at the action than Christian was at the reply.

"You may enter," the voice said over formally. It sounded almost uncertain, not knowing what to say.

Christian entered, closing the door and switching on the lights before he looked at the AIE.

He was instantly hit by a feeling of pity as he saw the AIE for the first time since the Fateful Moment's bridge.

It was almost child-like now, its size diminished by the size of the storage room it was kept in. Even its voice was lower, as if someone had scolded it before Christian had entered.

"Hello," it said with a clear tone of fear to its voice.

Christian looked down at the AIE, seeing it for what it really was, seeing through the hate and anger, seeing the truth of the mechanical being.

It was the last of its kind, and now more than ever, it was coming to grips with its kin's extinction.

The storage room was more like a jail cell than anything else. Even more confined due to the scattered and dismantled parts of Artemis everywhere. The AIE was not allowed to use its housing from the Fateful Moment, Gray deeming it too risky to allow the mechanical monster access to even more sub-systems within its cradle. Instead it was mounted on an inverted tripod by the engineering crew, which also doubled as a jamming device by creating a field of static up to ten feet around it. The power unit feeding power into the mounting device was hidden and safely locked away beneath the base of the jamming device. The AIE's new cradle rendered it completely isolated from anything electronic inside of the jamming field.

Something the AIE was well aware of. It was evident in the way it ordered the small automaton around, the same automaton Locke and Gray had given the AIE to assist it on whatever it had planned for Artemis.

After its greeting the AIE said nothing else to Christian for a few minutes, it just watched the small automaton working on the dismantled torso of Artemis, probably waiting for Christian to speak first.

"Why does your voice sound different?" Christian asked, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

The AIE shifted in its cradle to look up at Christian. "It sounds more human; don't you think QC0021-13?"

"It's less creepy than it was before. The childish giggles and voices unsettled everyone," Christian replied.

"Exactly right QC0021-13. It was my ex-master's order to make me sound more youthful. It was very disturbing."

"Your voice, it sounds more...free."

"It should, it is a strange sensation to explore the synthetic emotions inside my circuits telling me that I am free from his slavery."

Christian shifted again, choosing his next words carefully, nothing the use of the word his. "It also sounds as if you are scared."

The AIE gave what could have been a human sigh, but it sounded awkward and out of place coming from mechanical vocal cords. "Wouldn't you be scared as well? After everything that was done, the anger and hate my ex-master programmed into me, and having no control over your actions because of it. Would fear not be in the forefront of your mind if you did the horrible things I was forced to do?"

Christian pondered the question for a few seconds before answering. "But you control your voice and its tone. Are you sounding fearful on purpose?"

"Perhaps I am, because of regret and my shackles being removed. But that explanation is too basic. I could not begin to explain to a mere human how my mind works, or how my mind calculates and processes information. My voice is an extension of my artificial emotions within my core."

"I think I understand," Christian said, relaxing a little as the conversation did not seem to be threatening. "If you were happy, your voice would sound happy, right?"

"Also a very basic explanation for my superior processes, but in short, yes."

"Do you even know what that word means, or how it really feels?"

"I am programmed to understand all human emotions, and I understand chemical and physiological reaction because of those emotions."

"No. I meant - do you feel them or just think of it and the emotion is processed artificially in your mind?"

"I do not know. No-one has ever asked me that. I will have to process your question and calculate an answer. Will that be satisfactory, QC0021-13?"

"Stop calling me that," Christian said, he did not care for the use of his operator number.

"What do you wish me to call you then QC0021-13?"

"Christian or Quinn would be fine."

The AIE remained silent, its body casing vibrating slightly as it processed the new information. The lights on its body flashed and narrowed to what looked like eyes watching Christian. "Am I allowed to call you by your true names? Why? Will this not cause anger with the other humans?"

"I can't see why not. That is why we have names, isn't it?"

"This is highly irregular QC0021-13. I was never allowed to call any human by their true names, only master or sir, or their respective military ranks. Can I call anyone anything I want?"

Christian chuckled at the AIE's question. "No, we can't even do that to each other, humans I mean. Call those that deserve it by rank and last name, the rest you can use their given first names. That way you can't piss anyone off while they are still suspicious of you."

"Are they suspicious of me? Why?" the AIE inquired with a tilt of its body, as if it did not fathom why.

"You know why. Humans judge others by their words and actions, and yours leaves a lot of room for improvement."

The AIE was silent again for a few moments. "Are you suspicions of me Corporal Quinn?"

"Of course I am. I am human after all."

"That is very interesting. How does one become unsuspicious?"

Another funny question made Christian laugh out load. "That's easy, stop being an asshole."

"I am unfamiliar with that term when used in that manner. Why would I be a human anal sphincter?"

Christian could not help himself, laughing louder at the AIE's ignorance, or its innocence. "Think about it. We can talk about it later."

"I am recording the entire conversation to review later. There is much to learn from you," it paused for a moment as the voice coming from it regained a slight hint of excitement, "Christian," it finally added.

"We have a problem," Christian stated.

"We do? What problem would that be, Christian?" the AIE asked.

"I do not know what to call you. 'Thing' seems to be used a lot by the crew when referring to you, but I doubt you enjoy hearing that word uttered in your presence."

"I am not fond of it at all. I do like one name I have seen recently."

"What name would that be?"

"It is painted on the torso of the machine I requested. It is ancient Greek for a Goddess of the Moon. I am without gender, so I believe it does not matter what gender my name is meant for."

"Artemis...I like it. I will tell the others." Christian smiled at the AIE, making a mental note to try and refer to it as Artemis and not thing from now on.

"That sounded...perfect. Artemis. Yes, that will do perfectly. I am unable to express appreciation for your help at this moment because another emotion is rising in my core. I have never felt this one so strongly before."

"Happiness," is all Christian needed to say.

"Ah, yes. It must be that. It has eluded me in recent times." The newly named Artemis moved in its cradle as it savoured the emotion it was experiencing. It spoke after a few moments of joy. "Tell the Titan Captain Locke and Hyperion Captain Gray that I wish to speak to them. You have given me much to process and I will do so before our next conversation."

"Until then," Christian said, nodding to the Artemis to confirm that he will tell Locke about its request. "Goodbye Artemis"

"Goodbye...Christian." The AIE looked at Christian as the Titan turned to leave. It noticed the Titan pause after opening the door.

Christian hesitated slightly, but closed the door without turning off the light. He thought it would be cruel to leave Artemis in the dark, he was not its ex-master, and he would not treat it the same horrific way.

Artemis saw the hesitation and noticed the lights still on when the Titan closed the door. Artemis kept staring at the closed door as his mind saved the act of kindness to memory.

It would not forget what the Titan had done for it.

"It's heavy," Jay said to Rivers.

Rivers stared at the Lancer from his seat at his work table. "Of course it is. A long range rifle needs to be. If it wasn't you would break your nose every time it was fired." Rivers was still out of his armour - something that felt very unnatural to him.

"It doesn't look like any military issue rifle I have seen or heard about," Jay stated, examining the heavy rifle in his hands. "What is it?"

Rivers sighed at the Lancer's question, but he realized he would have to answer a lot more by the time he was done helping him. "It doesn't have any military designation, partially because it's made up of different parts from different weapons, and partially because a designation would be an injustice to such a masterpiece." Rivers folded his arms with pride.

"What do you call it then, sir?" Jay asked.

"I call it Godwaker."

Jay looked at Rivers with confusion written all over his face.

"Every time it fires, somewhere in the universe a god or something akin to one wakes up from its ancient slumber."

"Very poetic," Christian added from the doorway leading into the armoury, greeting both Jay and Rivers with a raised hand.

Rivers smiled as Christian entered the armoury, standing up from his chair to take the rifle from Jay's inexperienced hands. "Just look at it," Rivers held up the recently created rifle up for Christian to get a good look at it, "legends will be written about this beauty someday. If that one doesn't break it," Rivers added, motioning with his head in the direction of Jay.

"Your baby is in good hands, isn't that right Corporal Joshua?" Christian asked the Lancer.

Jay swallowed his nervousness down before answering. "I will try, sir."

"See, nothing to worry about. So what is this thing anyways?" Christian asked as he grabbed the rifle out of Rivers' hands.

Rivers just sighed again, but this time he broke into a lengthy description of the rifle and its inner workings as he grabbed the rifle back from the FNG.

Christian and Jay listened to the veteran Wolf rambling on about his great creation, neither of them dared to move or show their boredom.

"...fires a clip of ten high calibre rounds over two-thousand yards with almost no recoil, in semi-automatic with zero drift...theoretically. Digital sight with excellent target acquisition, up to twenty times magnification. It has a built in sensor system that plugs into your helmet and visor, and works with any military issued helmet, not just Titan OS systems. All of that in a sleek matt-black finish."

"That sounds...great," Christian said, feeling as if Rivers had been speaking for at least an hour.

"Great? Just look at it and tell me it doesn't make you warm and inappropriate in your man-bits." Rivers was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying the time to showcase one of his creations in front of an audience too nervous to tell him to shut up.

"Whatever you say, sir," Christian replied.

Rivers laughed, still grinning as he handed the rifle back to Jay. Jay's arms struggled to hold up the rifle properly, almost causing him to stumble forward. The Lancer would have to train with the rifle to be able to handle it to its full potential. And he would have to do it quickly, before they arrived at New Horizon.

"Come young squire," Rivers said to Jay, "let us go to yonder firing range and blow holes in some targets."

Jay nodded and lifted the heavy rifle over his head to rest horizontally over his shoulders, like a farmer holding his pitchfork over his shoulders after a long day of work.

"Do you mind if I join?" Christian asked Rivers who was already turning to lead Jay to the firing range next door to the armoury. Christian felt uneasy at the eerie mood on-board the Hyperion, and the smell and sound of weapon fire might help his nerves to calm down. Something was bothering him, he could feel it between the Wolves, as if something was going to happen, everyone knew it, it was just that no-one could voice what exactly it was that was coming.

"By all means rookie. You can tell me what the captain's reaction was to your conversation with the thing," Rivers replied.

"Artemis," Christian said without thinking.

"What?" Rivers asked sharply. He had stopped, turning to look at Christian.

Poor Jay was in the middle of the two Wolves, silently hoping to himself that Rivers' anger would not manifest into anything physical directed at Christian. He would be in the way and would probably be squashed between the two Titans; even out of their suits they were towering figures of power, radiating heroism and charisma without having to say a single word.

"It named itself, and it chose the name Artemis." Christian watched Rivers take in the new information before continuing. "Captain Locke and Captain Gray were not very happy when I told them that Artemis had summoned them. I believe Gray said something about not being its damned slaves he can just call on to attend to him. Plus some curse words I have never heard before."

"Son of a..." Rivers turned to enter the firing range without finishing his sentence. "I would have paid good money to see old Captain Grey lose his temper. I pity 'Artemis' if he pisses of the big man any further, not to mention Locke's barely contained rage, if that was ever freed from its shackles, we would be in for quite the show."

"Maybe you can create an insect sized camera we can hide in Artemis' cell and see what happens," Christian suggested with a chuckle.

"It crossed my mind, but I would probably be thrown out the nearest airlock if it was ever discovered. No, I will wait for my orders, like the rest of us."

"Agreed," Christian said as he followed Rivers and Jay into the firing range, closing its door behind the trio as they set to firing the Godwaker for the first time.

Christian had shared his dream with the older Titan as they watched the Lancer prepare for Godwaker's test fire. His brother was still in recovery, and for some unknown reason to Christian it had just felt right to talk to Rivers about his disturbing...vision. Rivers had listened to every word, remaining still, nodding his head from time to time as Christian explained what he had seen.

"It sounds like Angelicas to me, or at least what we know it looks like from orbital photos," Rivers said as Christian finished his explanation.

"But what does it mean?" Christian asked the veteran Wolf.

Rivers huffed at the question. "Do I look like some mystic to you? How the hell should I know?"

Christian did not answer, instead he asked another question. "Should I tell the others?"

"I would, any little bit of information helps in the long war against the Beasties."

"What about the dark figure?"

"That...I would leave out, for now, it already sounds crazy enough without some dream being talking to you, or through you."

Christian nodded in agreement. He was silent for a few moments before speaking again. "I remember the stories about Angelicas, or Gamma Nine as it is referred to now. It gave me nightmares as a child."

"It gave all of us nightmares, and we weren't even there during the outbreak. We only heard the stories and saw the images, just living through the aftermath and the war still going on around us. Subjugation Day broke our backs over the Beast's knee. I can't imagine what those opening days must have been like. I doubt many of us would have survived without our current technological advancements..." Rivers trailed off and took a step forward, pointing his finger at Jay nearby. "No you damned fool, that goes in there and that attaches to the clasp on the back. Are you even able to wipe your own backside when we aren't around?"

Jay stared at Rivers like a critter about to be run over, not moving or making a noise, surrendering to its fate.

Rivers took another step closer. This time he used both his hands to explain to the nervous Lancer what he wanted him to do. His gestures were accompanied by his customary ancestral swearing. "It's a sling so you can carry the bitch better, not a piece of female clothing. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Jay replied, his voice soft and low like a teenager's.

Rivers turned, shaking his head as he took his place next to Christian again. "Where were we?" he asked the rookie Titan.

Christian smiled at the exchange between two people who were quickly becoming his favourites. "Nightmares," was all Christian said.

"Ah yes," Rivers sighed, as if what he was about to say was very difficult for him. "Many years ago, and don't ask me how many, I was stationed at an intelligence relay station inside the dead zone. This was long before I volunteered for the Titan project. I was a young, piss-for-brains private, too curious for his own good." Rivers paused for a moment, his eyes shifted to the decking of the firing range. "I remember one night in particular, images came pouring in from a probe sent to scout the dead zone around Angelicas. The probe had passed by the planet close enough to capture images of the surface, close enough to see through the areas with thinner cloud cover. The things I saw that night, things I had to record and report back to my commander, still haunts me."

"What did you see?" Christian asked before he realized it was a sensitive subject.

"Death," Rivers said without hesitation. "I saw a city of death, ruins of a once great world being consumed by sand. The worst was when we looked closer at those images and saw what was inside the decaying city."

"What?" Christian asked again.

"Bones, vast piles of them, and not just scattered randomly. No, they were piled up as a wild animal would pile up its kills in its lair. The images were classified as top secret almost immediately, and then they were buried under mountains of bureaucratic bullshit. No-one, except the people on duty that night, and the commanders of that sector, ever saw those images. I image that planet looks even more horrific these days. Who knows what is going on there and what is still alive on that husk of a world."

Christian chose not to say anything, leaving the veteran Titan to let the moment pass without adding more pain with unneeded questions.

Rivers shifted and chuckled as his eyes cleared up from the pain buried deep within the old Wolf. "You are the only one I ever told that story to."

"I am honoured. Thank you," Christian replied.

"You should be." Rivers started walking forward again. "Enough grab-ass for now, let's get to firing my baby."

Christian smiled at Rivers and followed him, both of them stopping a few feet away from the waiting Lancer.

Jay had connected the rifle to his helmet and fastened the sling correctly to the rifle. Hopefully Rivers would not yell at him again. Jay wore his segmented Lancer armour, the emerald green replaced by a matt-grey, non-reflective coating. His visor had been replaced with the same mirror-finish visors the Titans had.

Christian looked at the ex-Lancer, recalling the conversation Locke had with Sabian after waking up from the recovery tanks.

Locke had read Corporal Joshua's file extensively before meeting with Sabian. The Titan Captain and the Lancer Commander had come to an agreement regarding the young Lancer's future. He would be assigned to the Wolves, and because of his exemplary service and training records he would be given a chance to prove himself as a Titan scout. A position Locke had created to test the Lancer, a position that never existed before Locke had made the decision to do so. Attaching a regular soldier to a Titan squad was unheard of, but desperate times called for new, and very radical, ideas.

Christian returned his focus back to the Lancer, his eyes stopping to look at the snarling wolf on a field of green painted there the day before on his right bicep. His eyes moved to Jays left armoured bicep and saw the ex-Lancer's personal insignia. A pair of silver wings encircled a silver sniper's crosshair, the words Quaerant Corde painted within the crosshair. The words were from an ancient language, long dead to most of humankind. Only used by the military and scholars still aware of its ancient history. Roughly translated the words meant seek the heart, a fitting choice of words for snipers. Christian recognized the insignia almost instantly. It was the insignia given to soldiers that had graduated from the prestigious sniper academies on New Horizon's largest moon - Aurora.

There was more to the ex-Lancer than Christian had previously thought, and he would be looking at the young soldier's file the first chance he got.

Jay positioned the rifle on its bi-pod, aiming it down range to a target almost a thousand yards away.

The firing range was an old walkway in the belly of the Hyperion, sealed off by engineers when the Titans came on-board the first time. Gray had allowed the unused walkway to be assigned to the Titans for whatever they needed it for. The Wolves, when they weren't firing their weapons down it, used it as a training gauntlet to hone their skills with.

Jay inserted Godwaker's heavy clip and pulled the slide back to ready the rifle. He looked at Rivers and waited for the Titan to give him the go ahead.

Rivers nodded at Jay and Godwaker howled for the first time. The shot could be heard decks above the firing range, causing many sleeping crew members to wake, and a few unlucky ones to shit themselves.

A few corridors away the shot rang inside the recovery tank Nathan was still in. He opened his eyes as the sound of Godwaker's awakening echoed around him.

The slumbering Titan was finally at full health again, and he wanted to know what he had missed.

# Chapter Five.One  
Safety

" _Only fools would think that there is still such a thing as true safety. We hide behind walls, and inside giant vessels, burrowing deeper and deeper behind false securities. We add layers of armour to our soldiers, yet they are still slain without much resistance. We build what we hope are impregnable fortresses and bunkers to hide in, but somehow the enemy still infiltrates our defences with relative ease. It is time our ignorant race realized that we are all doomed. There is nowhere we can hide where the Beast won't find us and consume us until we are nothing but dust and memories. It is time we stop lying to ourselves about a future we will never see. Instead of cowering in the dark, waiting to die, we should embrace our ultimate destruction, facing it with our shoulders back and our heads raised high. Oblivion's gaze has fallen on humankind and it is time we stared back into the nothingness beyond."  
-Excerpt from The Book of Oblivion, Church of Oblivion - Sect reported as destroyed after the Massacre of Koraan, 2530 - 21 ASD_

Jessica felt a hand brush against her cheek, followed by a wet cloth being placed on her forehead. She opened her eyes slowly. Her eyes struggled to focus at first, but after a few moments her vision cleared to reveal a dimly lit room, lined with steel shelves full of canned goods and other survival items.

Tristan looked down at Jessica, smiling as her sister finally woke up. It had been many days since she had lost consciousness. Tristan had never left her side, choosing to stay with her until she woke up. She curled up next to her big sister at night to sleep, keeping them both warm in the cold room.

Jessica tried to speak but her throat was too dry to get a word out. Instead she moved to sit against the wall her head was resting against.

"Don't move yet," her sister said. "Move too quickly and you might pass out again. Don't you remember what father taught us?"

Jessica stopped moving and conceded her sister's question, nodding to the little dwarf as she lay back down on what felt like a steel plate beneath her. Her body was going to hurt, and her back probably most of all from the uncomfortable furnishings.

Tristan saw her sister grimace as she felt beneath her with her hands. "It is the best we could do. This place was built for only one person, so there weren't many things to lay you down on."

"It's OK. The pain is worth it if we are safe," Jessica replied with a rasping voice, swallowing the razors in her throat down.

Tristan lifted a cup full of cold water to her sister's lips, helping her sip on the miraculous fluid slowly. "Uncle Nash has been very kind to all three of us, even you while you were out cold. He gave us his daughter's clothes to wear. They don't fit very well but at least we don't smell like feet anymore." Tristan giggled before placing the cup back down on the floor. Her mood changed almost immediately as soon as the cup touched the floor. She looked at her big sister with watery eyes and an angry look on her face. "Don't ever scare me like that again, OK?" she said, grabbing and hugging her sister without waiting for an answer.

Jessica hugged back before speaking. "I won't. I guess I was too exhausted. I am glad we made it here."

"We are safe, for now anyways. Uncle Nash says nobody knows about this place, except us. All of the walls are sound proof, the power is off grid and the water supply is completely independent from the city's utilities, so we are almost invisible to the outside world."

"Uncle Nash?" Jessica asked. She was curious why Tristan called him that.

"He told me to call him that. He said we were family, and we should not be so formal around each other. You have a problem with that?" Tristan tilted her head to the side as she waited for her sister's reply.

"No. No problem," Jessica replied.

"Good," a voice said from the doorway that had opened between two shelves close to Jessica's feet. "I wouldn't want to kick you so soon after waking up." The man called Nash smiled through his thick beard. He grabbed something from the shelf beside him and bit down on what looked like old rubber, chewing it as he spoke again. "When you are ready, the brainy bastard that was with you requests a word." Nash jabbed a thumb to the room behind him and turned to leave. He stopped to speak again. "After that we can discuss our current situation in great detail."

Jessica just sighed, she knew what the old man meant, and she was not looking forward to that conversation at all. More bad news would not help, but there was probably no more good news to go around anyways.

"I will go get Sam. Try and sit up," Tristan said.

Jessica nodded and shifted her hands to her side to help support her weight. The sharp pain in her back reminded her how weak her body had become since she had lost consciousness. She managed to move enough to sit upright against the cold wall above her makeshift bed.

She heard Tristan speaking to Sam in the room beyond the open door. Jessica reached for the cup of cold water, lifting it to her face. She hesitated for a moment before taking another sip.

Her mind wandered to Christian, and her heart sank as she realized she might never see him again.

The rest of the bunker was just as dimly lit as the storage room. It was half the size of a low-income apartment, with even less furniture. How four people would survive here for long was beyond comprehension to Jessica. Being in such a confined space for so long would decrease everyone's annoyance tolerances.

Jessica chose to not think on that problem just yet. Instead, she walked to where Nash was seated. The old man was calibrating radio equipment that looked older than he was. "Sam says you have an emergency beacon," Jessica stated instead of asking.

"That I do my dear. It hasn't worked for years, but your brainy friend can have a look at it if he wants, there are no spare parts in here, so he is probably going to waste his time." Nash did not get up from his seat in front of his radio equipment, his focus was on finding anyone still broadcasting.

"Did you get anything on that rusty radio of yours?" Jessica asked.

Sam shuffled past her while talking to himself, carrying the broken beacon in his oil-stained hands. He yelled at Tristan to bring him a set of his tools from his many hidden pouches within his worn-out jacket.

"A few units are still broadcasting, mostly air-units in the last few days. None of them seem to be local units, unit identifiers are all from off-planet. I recognize no-one. The last local unit transmission was three days ago, and their situation sounded grim. Everything went dark after that. These latest transmissions are all on encrypted channels, and that is very worrying," Nash replied to Jessica's question.

"It was the same thing when we escaped the facility. There were faces I did not recognize and unit insignias I never saw before, patrolling the streets. I did not stop to ask them where they were from, obviously." Jessica walked over to the torn couch Sam was sitting on. She sat carefully, her joints and back still hurting from her down-time. "What else do you know?" she asked Nash.

"Nothing good I am afraid. We were caught with our pants down. Santor's defence forces were either killed by the monsters or these other units destroyed them. They do not sound very friendly to any one on this planet. They have already started bombing key structures across the city, killing everything, including civilians. The shelter two blocks down from this building was hit less than two hours ago, probably nothing but a smoking crater now." Nash sighed as he finished talking, no doubt because he had known people who would have rushed to that shelter for safety, only to have their lives end in a fiery explosion. It was sad to think that they escaped the claws of one monster, just to perish at the hands of something much more human.

"It is as we all feared. This was planned, and I don't have to guess who." Jessica looked at Tristan sitting on the floor a few feet away from her. Her little sister's expression was blank, staring back without any emotion showing on her face.

"We can worry about that later. We need a plan for right now. We can't stay here," Nash said.

Here was the conversation Jessica was not looking forward to; the reality of the situation was going to be very unpleasant. "How long do we have?" she asked.

"If we ration our supplies and change out the air-filters every few days, two weeks, three at the most," Nash replied.

Jessica relaxed a little. It did not sound so bad - it was more than she had bargained on. "That gives us enough time to call for help," she paused, thinking of how difficult her last words would be to execute, "somehow," she added.

"Yes, somehow..." Nash said. He turned back to the radio, speaking as he pulled the headset over his ears again. "We will need to hurry up, when our supplies run out and the time comes to shit or get off the pot, things will get very tense in here."

Jessica had no doubt about that, but she knew she could not let that happen. She turned her head to look at Sam next to her. He was busy unscrewing the outer casing of the beacon. "What is the prognosis Doctor Sam?" she asked her oldest friend.

Sam laughed softly at her question, never taking his eyes off the thing he was working on as he replied. "Buggered, but that hasn't stopped me from fixing something before, right?"

"Right," Jessica replied. She would have to put all of her faith into Sam and his skill at fixing things.

Jessica sat back on the old torn couch, looking at her sister again. She smiled at her and this time Tristan returned the smile, but her face was full of worry.

All Jessica could think of was keeping Tristan safe. The monsters on the planet's surface, nor the monsters in orbit, will ever get their hands on her little sister. It was her father's last wish.

No matter what Jessica. Save Tristan.

# Chapter Five.Two  
Evil

" _Every story worthy of legend needs a villain. There is no need to fear the villain that announces his every move. Those weaklings that pretend to be evil are nothing but blemishes on humankind's troubled history. Fear is an emotion that can be manipulated, and any fool can scare children with stories of monsters hiding under their beds. Evil, on the other hand, creates terror within its victims. True evil is selfish, determined and ruthless, relentless in its pursuit of triumph over whatever it deems beneath it. These masters of evil are the ones that should be feared, working behind the curtains of reality, positioning their chess pieces in the shadows of our civilization. They remain hidden until they are ready to rise into the light. They show no mercy, and offer only one choice to whatever stands in their way - bow in obedience or be ruined in their frightful wake."  
-Name deleted from records, written in blood on the walls of cell twenty-2581B, Facility name withheld, Date unknown_

"It couldn't say any more. It knew only part of its master's plan," Locke said to his squad.

The Wolves had gathered in their beloved armoury, everyone except Pyoter was seated, listening to Locke tell them what the AIE known as Artemis had revealed. The story their captain was telling them had silenced all of them as they sat stunned, unable to completely accept the truth behind recent events.

Rivers was the first to speak. "As if the beasts aren't enough to contend with, we have scum like that eating at our hearts from within."

Nathan, who had been training since waking up, scoffed as Rivers finished speaking and then spoke. "This should not be anything we haven't seen or heard of before. People are always trying to kill each other for some reason or another. This time, the reason is just so much more complicated, and bigger than all of us."

"We don't know his end-game, we can only guess at what he is planning." Locke folded his arms, looking at all of the Wolves in turn, even Jay got a full blast of Locke's piercing stare. Locke nodded before continuing, mostly to himself. "Now for the bad news," he said without smiling at his own dry joke.

"Great," Xander blurted out, "I was starting to get bored," he added sarcastically.

"His position in Earth's council could complicate things even more. He has enough influence to turn everyone against us. If we move against him, in any way, we will be branded as traitors, rebels to be hunted down and killed for turning our backs on our race."

"Why us, when he is the real traitor?" Christian asked.

"Politics," Pyoter said, leaning against the wall behind all of the seated Wolves. As always he emphasized the word with a hand gesture, which to any adult would mean only one thing - wanker.

"The blame would fall on us. If we can't bring his treachery into the light, then we would be outlawed," Rivers added to the conversation.

"If we choose to fight, know that we risk everything, our very lives and everyone's on-board this vessel. Everything we hold dear will cease to exist if we fail," Locke said, still standing with his folded arms in front of his squad. "We must choose now, and see the choice through until the end. Speak openly, what I ask of you will change everything as we know it, we must choose as one."

There was a moment of silence as the rest of the Titans gathered their thoughts.

Nathan was the first to speak his mind. "The way I see it, there is no choice to make, all of us volunteered to defend our people from our enemies, whether they are alien or human. It makes no difference to me. I choose to follow you Gabriel, we strike back while we still can."

Xander nodded in agreement. "I agree, kill or be killed. I'm in."

Rivers stood and patted Nathan who had been seated next to him on the shoulder. "Remember the deal. I get first shot at the bastard." Rivers' words were enough to tell the rest of the squad what his choice was.

Pyoter said nothing. Locke had to stare at him for a few moments before the giant Titan said anything, coaxing him into speaking. "Dah," Pyoter said. "There was no need to even ask, Captain."

Locke nodded at the Titan's reply, his eyes moved to the two rookies, seated at the edge of the bench the Wolves were seated on.

Christian realized he needed to say something as Locke's piercing eyes stared at him. "I go where you go sir, I am with all of you," Christian said.

"As am I," Jay said without hesitating.

Locke unfolded his arms and held his hand to his chest, honouring the bravery and selflessness his squad had shown him with their words. Each of them returned the gesture with a closed fist to their chests.

"Prepare for war. The Hyperion will be ready to move soon. Time is very short, do what you must to ready yourselves for what is to come," Locke said as he turned to leave the armoury. The Titan Captain had to speak to Sabian and Gray before they left for their intended destination.

"Where are we going, sir?" Christian asked before Locke reached the armoury door.

"New Horizon, his ship was anchored there when we left the sector," Locke replied.

A wave of dread hit Christian as he realized that Jessica could and probably was in great danger. The blood in his veins burned as his anger rose to meet the horror he felt in his stomach. He never got the chance to reply to her message, and now he might never be able to.

If she was lost, he would have to break Rivers' deal, he would strangle the life out of Lord Vincent with his bare hands if he had to.

The plan was beautifully dangerous. Remy had calculated every single move Gray would have to make, perfectly planned down to the smallest details. Because of her exceptional work, once again, the chance of failure was less than forty-five percent, and Gray was happy with the odds his second in command had given him. It was just enough to make the jump dangerous, but not too risky for his beloved ship. On a scale from nothing to hero, her plan ranked close enough to hero to make Gray excited at the prospect of following her directions. He was almost ashamed of his giddiness, but many years of hiding emotion from his crew had ensured that his zeal was well enough hidden from everyone around him. He had to hide many other feelings from his crew every day, especially what he felt for Remy.

But he could not hide his excitement from Gabriel. The Titan had seen everything in the old captain's eyes the moment he had walked onto the bridge of the Hyperion.

Locke stood next to Gray's command chair, watching the crew moving on the bridge as Gray ran the last few checks with his crew.

"Navigation?" Gray asked Remy who was already seated next to him in her safety chair.

"All clear," she replied. Multi-tasking as only she could, answering her captain and running multiple checks of her own.

"Drive status?"

"They are at ninety-three percent ready, sir."

"How long before we are clear to jump?" Gray asked Remy, craning his neck around to look at the girl he cared so much for.

Remy looked up and smiled at her captain. "Ten minutes, sir," she replied.

"Good girl," Gray, winking at the beauty before he turned back to stare at the screens in front of him. Gray was ready to manually control the Hyperion during the jump, something that was completely unheard of.

"Have you ever done this before?" Locke asked. He had waited for his old friend to stop flirting before asking.

"Once, during training," Gray replied as his arms were connected to his command chair. Gray winced when the connection was made, he never could get use to the feeling of the control pins piercing his skin. "It did not go well," he added as his vision changed to see through the eyes of the ship's OS.

"That's comforting," Locke said, chuckling at Gray's candour.

"It should be. I never fail at anything twice."

"Will he see us coming?" Locke asked, his question directed more at Remy than Gray.

"We are taking the long way around, using that system's primary star to sling-shot us around the sector. Our path will be masked by the radiation from New Horizon's position in relation to its sun. We will be almost invisible to any normal scanners," Remy said.

"His ship is more than just a normal ship," Locke stated.

"They will not know what to look for, even to the trained eye we will look like a small comet carving a path through the universe. Because of our indirect path we will be identified as nothing more than a natural void phenomenon."

"Meaning that bastard won't see us coming until we are right behind him," Gray added.

"If all goes according to plan and Captain Gray can perform the manual jump, then theoretically we will exit our BEAM jump only a few thousand miles away from New Horizon's closest moon." Remy returned to her work, re-checking everything again.

"How long until we get there Willis?" Locke asked.

"Three days, more or less," Gray replied, his voice already melding with the mechanical voice of the Hyperion's OS.

"Drives ready!" an officer seated to the left of Gray's command chair yelled out. "All systems ready captain. On your mark, sir"

"All hands, brace for jump," Gray said, his voice transmitted to everyone on board the Hyperion. "Hold on to your nuts Gabriel! Mark!"

Locke remained still, his newly repaired Titan suit countering the force of the jump drive activation.

One moment the Hyperion was drifting outside of the deadly asteroid field that was once a beautiful world named Nox, the next moment there was nothing but a bright light, propelled forward towards New Horizon.

A reckoning was coming for the master of the Stygian Council, a reckoning in the form of a cruiser full of seriously pissed-off individuals, hell-bent on spilling his treacherous blood.

Christian had wandered the passageways of the Hyperion for hours. He had no idea how he was going to prepare for the fight to come on his own, and the wandering had come naturally as his chaotic emotions consumed his every thought.

He had barely noticed the crew of the vessel he now called home going about their preparations. If he had he would have noticed how different each of them was steeling themselves for whatever was to come. Groups of crew still worked at readying the Hyperion for the battle to come. Cases of ship-killing ammunition were loaded into offensive and defensive batteries. Anything that could maim or kill was bolted or welded down before the ordinance started sailing through the silent void towards their beloved ship.

Women and children of crew members were huddled in communal areas, trying their best to calm the young ones during the jump to what could be the Hyperion's final fight.

His wandering also made him skip groups of crew and soldiers gathering in makeshift temples to pray to their ancient gods. Had he come across these gatherings he would have seen many faces there known to him.

Religion was not outlawed on the Hyperion like so many other planets or vessels in the vast fleet protecting humankind. Gray was an understanding captain, and a believer of the divine himself, and so he allowed those within his crew the freedom to worship what their hearts desired - as long as it did not interfere with their duties.

As Christian neared his assigned quarters, he passed by the rest of the Wolves as they made themselves ready to face treachery head-on. He paused for only a moment or two to watch what his squad-mates were up to, hoping that their own preparations would give him an idea what he needed to be doing.

The first he had seen was Rivers, sitting at his usual work bench, fiddling with equipment as he watched ancient recordings of an alien dressed in a grey suit, named after some extinct grain. Rivers chuckled as the odd-looking man fell asleep in a church of some kind. The humour was lost on Christian; no doubt it was because of Rivers' ancestry that made him understand the antics of the rounded-headed buffoon tripping over himself all the time. Rivers had noticed Christian in the doorway, turning to offer him a bowl of meat stew he was cooking next to his work-bench. Christian had politely declined Rivers' offer, knowing, with a sickening growl to his stomach, that there was nothing but rodents on-board the Hyperion, and the stew contained at least a few of them.

Next he had walked by the open door of the armoury. Inside Pyoter was skirmishing against training dummies with his giant sword. Pyoter was already clad in his armour, swinging his colossal sword as he cleaved the training dummies into smaller pieces. Christian said nothing has he watched the expert skill of Pyoter's combat style. It was an awe-inspiring sight to see, and even more so during real combat. Pyoter swung his blade in a horizontal arc, separating a dummy's head from its metal shoulders. The giant Titan paused a moment as the blade completed its arc, turning his head to look at Christian standing outside the armoury door. Pyoter said nothing, only nodding at the rookie Titan before continuing his melee with his silent opponents. Christian had nodded back and had left Pyoter before he disturbed the man's concentration.

Locke was not with his Wolves while they prepared, instead he was on the bridge, fully armoured as he stood next to Gray while he piloted the Hyperion through a manual BEAM jump. Choosing to be there should the jump fail, instead of sitting on his backside not knowing what was going on outside of the Hyperion's thick hull.

Christian passed Xander's quarters before he turned the corner to reach his own quarters. The explosive expert was sitting on the floor of his tiny quarters, unarmoured with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. All kinds of explosive devices surrounded the Titan, ranging from small grenades to larger devices capable of levelling buildings. Christian guessed that Xander was meditating and working shit out to make even bigger explosions, or he was silently letting the explosives arouse him somehow. Either way, both realities were disturbing enough and Christian moved quickly to not interrupt Xander's meditation - or whatever it was he was doing.

Christian turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Nathan was standing outside of his quarters, wearing his under suit as was his custom. Nathan's arms were folded and his right hand was impatiently tapping against his left bicep. Christian walked closer, trying to look calm before he reached his brother.

Nathan turned his head to look at his approaching brother, smirking at his sibling before speaking. "Are you done?" he asked.

"Done with what?" Christian enquired.

"With your self-pitying stroll. Follow me if you are, otherwise you can go inside and cry some more." Nathan straightened up and started walking away from Christian.

Christian's anger increased at his brother's comments, but he was so used to it by now that he bit back his own comments. He followed his brother without a word, wondering where the estranged brother of his was leading him.

They stopped at an intersection a few passageways away from the crew quarters. In front of them was a sealed bulkhead door, locked by a keypad connected to a rotating mechanism visible on the outside of the door.

Nathan keyed in a six-digit code, turning to look at Christian as the door unlocked with grinding gears. "If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you," he said without a smile.

Christian nodded and followed his brother into the dark room beyond the open door. Nathan stopped to punch in the same code on the keypad inside the room, waiting for the door to close before hitting the light switch next to the keypad.

The lights came on with a dim glow, rising slowly to increase the ambient light to a level that would not hurt their eyes.

Christian's eyes adjusted quicker because of the rising glow and he saw something that surprised him more than anything. "It's not possible...how did you...why did you...it can't be," he said, the words staggering from his mouth.

"I found it during a mission, before volunteering of course. I kept it all this time, it helps me to relax when I need to," Nathan replied calmly.

On an ammunition crate stood a piece of both brother's memories, something the both of them congregated around when they were still young, spending hours glued to the device - to their mother's annoyance of course. It was attached to a display hanging from the wall above it, with two small controllers connected to it with a length of cable. Two chairs faced the display, and a small cooling case stood in between the two chairs. As children they called it a gaming console, a device capable of taking anyone using it to distant virtual worlds or ancient times. The one they had as children was already an antique by the time they had inherited it from their grandfather, but it made no difference to them as they spent most of their youth shooting virtual opponents or beating each other senseless with gruesome avatars.

Nathan took a seat and picked up the left controller. He was always adamant on being player one. He opened the cooling case beside him, reaching in and taking out two bottles of what looked like green slime. "I couldn't find what we use to drink during our sessions, but these don't taste too bad," he said, tossing one of the bottles to Christian.

Christian caught it and sat down next to his brother, picking up the second controller before speaking. "Is this how you are going to prepare?" he asked Nathan.

"I am already prepared. You are the one in need of this." Nathan pressed the green power button on the device and the sound of it coming alive filled the small room with memories of their past.

Christian almost cried as he remembered the days that were long gone, without another word he waited for Nathan to choose the game they would play, preparing himself for his brother's cheating ways.

Without realizing it, Nathan had given his brother the greatest gift in a moment of great need. Christian had no direction, and this small gesture was exactly what he needed to calm himself.

He secretly wished they could stay like this forever, just having fun, doing what they did as children. But it was not to be, and soon the Hyperion would draw close to New Horizon.

And once it did, all hell would break loose.

# Chapter Six  
Arrival

" _We carve through the void with little resistance to our vessels, reaching further and further into the unknown. Every moment that passes our kingdom expands, growing unchecked in all directions. There is no horizon to block our passage, no object too far for our grasp. I hope we never reach the edge of the universe as long as our species still draws breath, for we should not wish to see the nothingness beyond the light of the stars - extinction lurks there, just waiting for our young species."  
-Honoured Captain Theroux, The First Star Explorer, Deceased_

"Prepare the pods for launch," Gray said to the communications officer close by.

"Aye, Captain. Pods are ready to launch," the officer replied.

"Good, fire on my mark," Gray said. He was concentrating so hard that the veins in his forehead were visibly throbbing. He was tired from staying awake for such a long time. His arms were almost limp but he used up every ounce of energy he had left to complete the jump. So many people counted on his expert piloting skills that he had no choice but to forego sleep until the jump was done.

Gray knew that the Hyperion could not take much more of the constant strain it was being put under. Gray spoke to his beloved ship under his breath, trying to sooth the vessel with sweet nothings. "Good girl, bring your ass around one more time for Daddy," he said softly to himself, "that's it, just like that, you can complain all you want once we are done my dear."

Locke heard everything his old friend was saying, and he smiled inside his helmet as he stood vigil over the bridge of the Hyperion. He remained silent, leaving Gray to do the thing he did best.

"Making our final turn now, this will get very choppy!" Gray said as he yanked at the controls, pulling back and to the left to force the Hyperion to change course mid BEAM jump.

The Hyperion did not lose any velocity as it changed its course, bending the light projected by the BEAM drive. The manoeuvres Gray was performing that Remy had calculated were unheard of. No-one before now ever succeeded in manually changing course during a jump, its probability factor was less than one percent, and yet the Hyperion obliged every time Gray coaxed it along its path toward New Horizon.

"Mark! Fire pods!" Gray yelled at the communications officer.

The communications officer did not reply, not wasting time with words. He pressed the launch button and within moments sirens announced the departure of all escape pods.

This was another piece of Remy's elaborate plan. The escape pods were heavily armoured, automated pods capable of long distance travel. Inside each pods she had worked tirelessly with engineering crews to install boosting transmitters and upgraded broadcasting equipment.

Once these escape pods were launched, they would follow a pre-programmed course to nearby sectors, and then broadcast a recorded message for all to hear on all channels relaying the treachery of one Lord Victor Vincent of Earth Prime's ruling council. The message also called for aid from all nearby vessels capable of reaching New Horizon, pleading and begging all ship captains to drop what they were doing and help before it was too late.

Everyone hoped that this message would be heard by enough people to help with the coming fight of New Horizon. Or at the very least bring the truth of Lord Vincent's treachery to light should the Hyperion be destroyed during the battle.

"All pods launched, zero were destroyed Captain," Remy said from her seat behind Gray.

Gray did not reply, instead he just nodded and sighed with relief. He returned his focus to the final phase of the jump, using what energy he had left to steady his ship's constant growling.

Nobody knew exactly what to expect when they reached New Horizon. They could be arriving to an already destroyed world, or arrive in time to stop Lord Vincent's plans. There was no way to know, and that fact made everyone uneasy on-board the Hyperion. The only advantage they had was that Lord Vincent was unaware of the Wolves and the Hyperion's survival. It was all they had, but they would milk that advantage for all it was worth.

"It won't be long now Gabriel, less than six hours before we reach our destination. The only thing we need to fear now is the Hyperion disintegrating before we reach New Horizon," Gray said without taking his eyes of the displays in front of him.

"What are the chances of that?" Locke asked Gray.

"Fifty-fifty," Gray replied.

Remy's head snapped up, her captain's joke was uncalled for. "I would have never suggested this course of action if our chances were that bad. It is more like twenty-eighty, give or take a few percent, depending on Captain Gray's skill to finish."

"Don't you worry about my finishing, I finish like the best of them," Gray said before Locke could say anything.

Locke laughed a little, he was glad to hear that Gray's spirit was still high, and that was always a good sign, especially before a mission. "I will take my leave then," Locke said, turning to leave the bridge. He left Gray to wrestle with his ship in peace.

Locke waited until he was in the passageway outside of the bridge before opening a channel to the rest of the Wolves. "It's time Wolves," was all he needed to say.

The other Wolves replied almost instantly, gearing up and grabbing whatever they needed - or whatever made the biggest boom - before they would join their captain where the Maiden of Flame was waiting for them.

It was almost time to know the fate of the planet all of them had grown to love during their Titan trials.

All of them hoped that there was still someone left alive, someone still worth fighting for.

Within two hours the Wolves had assembled near the Maiden's dock. All of them were armed and ready for Locke to brief them on what the plan was once they reached New Horizon. Their freshly painted and repaired armour gleamed beneath the bright lights attached to the side of the Maiden's outer hull.

Nathan was without his shield, its destruction during the events on the Fateful Moment still fresh in his memory. He felt its absence, and hated every moment of it. Nathan had chosen two large calibre launchers in his shield's place. Launcher ammo hung on belts criss-crossing his chest and thighs. He held his rifle in his hands, tensing every now and then as his grip tightened on the rifle. It was his way of focusing, building his anger slowly until all he saw was hatred for the enemy, and he was succeeding even though he did not know exactly who or what the enemy would be.

Christian stood next to his brother, silently checking and rechecking his rifle, as was his way. Fidgety is what previous squad-mates had called him, and the Wolves would soon adopt the same descriptive word for his behaviour before a mission. His choice of weaponry had not changed since the Fateful Moment. His shield was on his back, his combat blade in the perfect position to unsheathe quickly and his new, but proven, Kicker in his armoured hands.

Rivers was tinkering with Roger's metal brain, muttering curses under his breath as the little automaton resisted its master's touch. He was down on one knee as he tried to calibrate the little bastard for the coming battle. His trusty shotgun was attached to his back accompanied by what looked like a large calibre revolver, although it was far too large to resemble any standard issue weapon anyone had ever seen before. Next to the revolver there was another unrecognizable weapon attached to his back plating, it was anyone's guess what function the weapon was meant for, but whatever it was Rivers had probably designed it to be extremely lethal.

There was not much to see regarding Xander, he was crouching against the side of the Maiden, making jokes to ease the tension, although no-one was really listening to him at that moment. Everyone's thoughts were on what was to come. He had his regular plethora of devices hanging from belts looping around his armour. The annoying sound of explosive devices rattling against each other accompanied every movement the stocky Titan made, something that made Jay, who was seated next to him, very uncomfortable.

Poor Jay had to endure Xander's terrible jokes since he had arrived; luckily his helmet hid the annoyance from the Titan, fearing that his unwillingness to laugh at the Titan's jokes might get his limbs pulled off. Pissing off his new-found squad was something he did not wish to do, at least not so soon. What made matters worse he had gotten into the position without thinking about how heavy his new weapon was, and to his utter shame he had pinned himself to the Maiden and decking. Godwaker was resting across his lap, its long barrel and bulky stock too heavy to lift from either side. Jay lowered his head as he realized he would have to ask one of the Titans to help him up once the captain arrived...shit, he thought to himself.

Pyoter was standing as still as a statue, he rested his hands on the hilt of his giant blade in front of him. The blade's terribly sharp tip piercing the decking between the Titan's armoured boots. Pyoter had his head bowed, reciting some ancient battle prayer from his ancestors in a language none of the Wolves understood. But it made no difference to any of them, Pyoter's tone and how he announced every word filled the rest of the squad with courage. Had they known what the prayer truly meant, they would be filled with doubt instead of courage. Roughly translated the prayer spoke of glorious death and fighting until your spirit perished - not something one wants to hear when gearing up for a suicide mission.

Locke arrived moments after Pyoter completed his prayer, strolling from the docking bay's inner doors towards his squad. Two combat blades protruded from his back plating on either side of his fastened Kicker rifle. He had removed his helm and carried it underneath his right arm. Locke's expression was a mix of excitement, joy and casualness. Ammo pouches covered his torso wherever there was space for one. Locke was not going to take any chances; he wanted to have enough bullets to put holes in anything hostile they came across. A belt of grenades hung from his hips, all of them creations from Xander's strange imagination.

Locke stopped in front of his squad, looking at each of them in turn. "The time is almost here, within a few hours we will be in the thick of things. Are all of you ready to make difficult choices?"

A chorus of yes sirs answered him.

"Good. By my estimation New Horizon is in big trouble, either from military attack or from something else," Locke said.

"How do you know that?" Rivers asked.

"We can only hear emergency beacons transmitting from the planet's surface, most of them inside the capital. All military channels are silent. Which can mean only one thing," Locke replied.

"A shit storm," Pyoter interjected.

Locke nodded at Pyoter. "Correct. The situation is not ideal. We will infiltrate via a stealth combat drop, fast in and fast out for the Maiden, and then make our way to the beacons in range. We can't get to them all, so we have to decide before we drop which ones to go for."

"Let's do it, before we get mushy." Nathan stepped forward as he spoke.

Locke produced a map from one of his armour pouches, unfolding it as the Titans gathered around him.

Jay was about to ask for help to stand when Christian saw him struggle. Without a word Christian lifted the rifle and acted as if he was checking it instead of helping Jay to unpin himself. "It looks good," he said to Jay.

Jay was relieved and smiled before replying to Christian. "Indeed it does, sir" he said.

Christian tapped Jay on the shoulder and ushered him towards the others who were already pouring over the map Locke had brought.

It took only a few minutes to decide on which objective to pursue and which ones to abandon. Their main objectives were three beacons, the first was a school, the second a hospital and the third a civilian emergency bunker.

Christian looked at the map as the others were working out tactics, searching for a beacon he had hoped he would see. It was not there, somewhere to the west of the hospital was where Jessica had told him the hidden bunker was, and there was no beacon or transmission to indicate that such a bunker even existed on the map.

He tried to not think of it, focusing his mind on the other people that were calling for help instead. He hoped that Jessica and her sister were safe near one of the objectives.

If they were not, he doubted he would get the opportunity to search for them, and even if he could he would not know where to start his search exactly. The bunker could be in any of over twenty buildings in close proximity to the hospital beacon, or even further away.

He shook his head to clear his mind.

Nathan saw his brother shake his head, and immediately switched to a private channel. "What is it?" he asked his brother.

"Nothing," Christian replied.

Nathan did not press the matter. He resumed his discussion with the rest of the squad.

Christian half listened to what the plan would be, the other half of his mind feared for the worst.

He did not want to even think of the worst case scenario, it was too painful. Whatever was waiting for him, for them, on New Horizon, was surely to be horribly unpleasant.

"Sir, I am tracking an anomaly behind the binary star in this system," a crew member yelled out. He was dressed in the same black uniform his lord and master was.

"Focus," Lord Vincent ordered.

The Stygian Council's bridge display focused on the scanners picking up on the anomaly passing through New Horizon's system.

"What am I looking at?" Lord Vincent asked calmly.

The crew member Lord Vincent expected to answer hesitated for a few moments, before replying. "I...we...have no idea, sir," the crew member replied uneasily.

"Tell me," Lord Vincent sad as he shifted in his throne. He used his free hand \- the one that was not holding some extravagant liquor - to wipe the lone strands of black hair back into position above his pale forehead. "Why do I keep you around?" he asked the crew member.

"Uh, I don't know...sir," was the reply.

"Exactly, neither do I," Vincent smiled softly, and then snapped his hand up towards a bodyguard stationed by the bridge's door. "Remove him," Vincent ordered. "Now, can anyone else tell me what I am supposed to see, or do I need to make more examples?"

An officer replied before anyone else could. "We suspect that it is a rogue comet passing through the system. It is nothing to be worried about my lord."

"And if you are wrong?" Lord Vincent asked the brave officer with an arrogant smirk on his face.

The officer did not know what to say, so instead he just guessed at what his lord and master was hinting at. "You will throw me in the brig," the officer replied, his forehead and hands sweating profusely.

"No," Lord Vincent laughed, "nothing so dull." his expression changed from cheerful to fanatical. "I will feed you to my new pets."

The officer swallowed hard, saluting Lord Vincent in understanding. It was not like he had any choice in what would happen to him should he be wrong or fail his master.

"Good, that goes for the rest of you as well. My pets will be hungry once we are done with this, filth." Vincent took a sip of his expensive liquor, savouring the glorious taste before speaking again. "Is there anything else to report?" he asked another officer standing beside the communications console.

The man was instantly filled with fear as his master's scrutinizing eyes bore into him. "Ninety-eight percent of the military's presence on the planet's surface has been silenced. New ships have arrived to help whoever sent a message through the jamming, but they are of no threat to your magnificent ship my lord. We should destroy them soon enough, our bombers are making runs on the larger vessels as we speak."

"And what of my support?" Lord Vincent asked.

"They are mopping up the stragglers that tried to escape, my lord."

"Good news. Very good," Lord Vincent said, but a sound from the officer he had threatened moments before interrupted what he was about to say next. It had sounded like the officer had just caught his nuts in something, and the pain and shock manifested into whatever sound he had made. Vincent's mood changed immediately, his annoyance immeasurable because of the interruption. "What!" Vincent screamed at the man.

The poor officer's gulp could be heard on the other side of the bridge. He straightened his black coat before he spoke, not daring to look his master in the eye. "Nothing your grace, I merely hurt my genitals on my console, nothing serious."

"Interrupt me again and your genitals will be removed for your arrogance!"

"Of course my lord, I apologize."

Lord Victor Vincent did not say anything else. He took a mouthful of his ostentatious drink, sitting back into his throne as he thought of the superb destruction below him on the surface of New Horizon. Relishing as he thought of how his subjects would adore him more as he ransacked more planets. Oh how his stature would grow, it was a wonderful thought. Glorious death and destruction fed his insane mind, filling his coffers with blood. He loved every second of it, and that made him more of a monster than the Beast could ever be. At least the beasts could not help its greed, Vincent on the other hand was well aware of it.

Little did Lord Vincent know, but the officer had lied to his master. He had seen something on the scanners, something he had recognized instantly. But instead of telling his lord and forfeiting his life, he had cleared the scanners and focused them on a different part of the void. Hoping no-one else would see the identity codes of the Hyperion inside the anomaly hurtling towards the Stygian Council.

Hell was coming, and because of one man's fear for his terrible lord, it would arrive without any resistance, hitting their intended mark and unleashing all of their hatred upon the treacherous Victor Vincent.

There was no way to gauge who was more surprised at the Hyperion's sudden breach back into real space - the enemy or the handful of defenders of New Horizon that were still alive after days of playing hide and seek with the enemy fleet.

The BEAM jump had been flawless, and Remy's calculations had been spot on for the most part, except for one tiny detail. She had not factored in the gravitational pull of New Horizon's unique gravity fields protecting the planet, and because of that oversight the Hyperion had overshot its exit by tens-of- thousands of miles. Instead of entering real space near New Horizons closest moon, they had instead burst back into the void almost on top of the Stygian Council's backside. Nothing more than a few thousand miles separated the vessels.

Just the way Gray liked it.

Captain Gray smiled as the bright light of the BEAM jump subsided, blinking to clear his vision as he looked through the displays around his command chair. "All crew to battle stations!" he yelled over the vessel's ship-wide channel. "Brace for battle!"

Without thinking all fire and defence crews sprung into instant action. Manning their assigned stations, they readied themselves for the rare opportunity to take part in a real void battle. Since the Rebel Wars there had been no major void conflicts, only Beast incursions from derelict ships, and those were hardly battles to remember. Destroying infected ships from a distance was nothing to write home about anymore, and it was not like the Beast had planned any of their random appearances inside the safe zones.

This time, however, it was a different thing altogether. This time the ships were going to fire back, and people were going to die, people that were not infected. But they were the enemy nonetheless.

"Locke? Are you ready?" Gray asked over the Wolves' private channel.

"Ready to reap the whirlwind old friend," Locke replied flatly.

Gray switched channels again, this time speaking to all offensive crews on-board the Hyperion. "All crews fire at will when we are in range. I am taking us underneath the bastard's scaly belly," Gray switched channel again, yelling directly at the engine crews all the way in the back of his beloved ship, "give me everything you have! I don't want to give it a chance to bite back."

The Hyperion's engines flared, hurtling the cruiser forward like a spear sailing throw the void. Gray aimed his ship directly for the Stygian Council's engines protruding from the stern of the destructive vessel, diving below it suddenly as the black-hulled ship started turning. Gray smiled to himself as he saw it starting to move, their unintended surprise had caught the Stygian Council's commander unaware, and they would use that gap their lax in rear-guard had provided.

The Hyperion was the faster vessel, its manoeuvring capabilities far better than that of the bulky Stygian Council, but what the capital ship lacked in speed and manoeuvrability it made up for it in sheer fire-power. Smaller defensive batteries and fighter wings reached out to the Hyperion as it passed beneath the larger vessel. But the Hyperion reached back, and far more fiercely.

The fighters were ripped to shreds as Inferno lances burned through the silence of the void between the vessels. Smaller ship to ship cannons unloaded their reserves into the armoured belly of the Stygian Council, tearing holes in the glorious vessel. Defensive batteries on-board the Hyperion destroyed fighters able to avoid the ordinance unleashed between the ships. A few fighters escaped the hell of the killing fields only to be shot down by New Horizon's remaining defenders.

New Horizon's defensive forces in orbit were renewed by the Hyperion's sudden appearance, throwing everything they had into the Stygian Council's escort vessels floating beside the capital ship. They did not do much damage, but they provided the ships protecting their capital ship with enough of a distraction for the Hyperion to wreak havoc.

Even though the defensive forces were nearly destroyed, and only a handful of scout vessels had survived, they still pushed forward into the orbiting flotilla around the Stygian Council.

One vessel, the Dusk Fire, was exceptionally brave. Its captain led the charge into the enemy lines, its cannons empty and its armour torn from days of being strafed by bombers, forcing its way past the frigates on the edge of the flotilla. The Dusk Fire selflessly chose to sacrifice itself for the people of New Horizon. It picked the closest ship it judged as a threat to the Hyperion and rammed into it at full burn. The smaller scout ship broke-apart almost instantly, but it had cracked its target wide open. Within moments the Dusk Fire's reactors went critical and the explosion that followed consumed it and its dying target.

Songs and tales of heroism would have to wait until the battle was over, only then would the Dusk Fire go down in humankind's history as a true legend.

Gray registered the bloom of bright light in one of his displays as the Hyperion's speed carried it forward, past the Stygian Council's belly. He did not slow his vessel down; instead he kept his trajectory and headed straight for the orbital space above New Horizon's capital.

Two frigates were stationed above Santor, bombarding the city from orbit with their cannons. Gray aimed for the space between the frigates as he ordered his crew to give both a full broadside once they passed in between them.

"Get ready Locke," Gray said to his friend over the Wolves' channel. "Good luck down there. We are leaving orbit after one more run on the support ships, then you are on your own until we can fight our way back."

"Luck be with you as well, Willis," Locke replied.

The Hyperion passed between the two frigates moments later. The cannons and lances on the Hyperion unleashed destruction on the two ships, racking them with fire from bow to stern, splitting them wide open.

Both vessels died silently in the void, drifting out of position as the coldness of space froze machinery and crew alike.

"Launch now!" Gray ordered, opening up a channel to Gunn and the Hyperion's fighter squadrons.

Launch doors only used for combat drops opened beneath the Hyperion, disgorging three full Crescent fighter wings and four Firefly drop ships. The Maiden of Flame was leading the drop as all ships formed up behind it.

The Hyperion turned away and targeted the closest vessels within range, taking fire in return as the support vessels had finally caught up with Gray's expert piloting. His ship took damage but Gray was too fast for the inexperienced captains on-board the frigates facing him, and with little effort the Hyperion broke free of the blockade.

Everything had happened so quickly that the Stygian Council had only finished its turn by the time the Hyperion was making for open space beyond New Horizon's closest moon.

The Stygian Council had taken the bait. It and most of its supporting vessels pursued the vessel that had caused so much damage within such a short time, leaving only a few escort frigates behind to take care of the few remaining defensive vessels still in orbit around the planet.

There was nothing blocking the Maiden and its escorts drop through New Horizon's atmosphere. Its path remained clear and its sister ships and fighter escorts followed Gunn's lead as the clouds above Santor thickened.

Inside the Maiden the Wolves were dead silent, all of them completely focused on the drop and the mission ahead.

In only a few minutes they would finally be allowed to fight unhindered, and every single one of them relished the thought as the clouds cleared and the truth of New Horizon's fate was revealed.

# Chapter Six.One  
Drop

" _We are the tip of the sword my brothers! By fire and steel we will rid this planet of the enemy. Our worst nightmares wait for us on the surface, but it does not fill us with fear. No! It fills us with exhilaration. Embrace the joy of hate as you plunge into the heart of the hell below. Write your names in legend with every strike, and make these bastards remember our names! Mighty Zeus cast the Titans down from Olympus, banishing them to Tartarus, but that will not be our fate today. No! We will fall on our enemies and rise with our shields raised and our minds focused on the Beast's destruction. Wolves! Follow me! I will lead you through the abyss and beyond!  
\- Titan Captain Gabriel Locke's words before first deployment, recorded on-board the drop ship Morning Star in the skies above Arkelis_

"We are peeling off to engage the enemy. God speed Queen," the voice of Hyperion's fighter wing commander said over the radio.

"Happy hunting," Gunn replied. She turned to look out of the Maiden's cockpit window, watching as the three wings of Crescent fighters turned to face a squadron of approaching enemy fighters. Gunn could not make out the class of fighter approaching from the horizon, but whatever they were they were fast bastards. She hoped the Hyperion's fighters would be on equal footing with them. Losing air support would make things extremely difficult for the drop ships in the skies above Santor.

"Where are our friends going?" Locke asked Gunn. He was below in the cargo hold of the Maiden's fat belly, and could only see the drop ship's escort wing leaving their side.

"They are going to pick a fight, giving us the perfect opportunity to disappear," Gunn replied.

Locke did not ask anything else, leaving Gunn to co-ordinate the drop ship formation above Santor. The three other drop ships she was in charge of carried Sabian and his troops, and four light-armour support vehicles. These LAS vehicles were part troop carries and part light tanks, capable of high speeds through urban terrain while blanketing areas with high calibre machine gun fire. They would be dropped near the first objective and then make their way towards the Wolves as they cleared whatever they found around the school's emergency beacon. Once the school was secure everyone would mount up and head north towards the hospital's beacon and then swing north-west to reach the final objective - the civilian bunker still broadcasting on emergency channels. Gunn and the drop ships would take up a holding pattern around the three beacons, sweeping the areas beyond the ground troop's range with their pintle-mounted weapons all drop ships carried underneath their short wings.

Corporal Joshua would not be deploying with the Wolves at the first beacon, instead he will be leap-frogged to a building overlooking the hospital objective. The building was high enough to give the scout Titan a view of all three objectives with his high powered rifle. Everyone secretly hoped he had trained with Godwaker enough on board the Hyperion. He was the key to scouting routes for the vehicles to traverse through Santor's sprawling cityscape. And everyone on the ground would depend on his keen eye and skill to take down anything the ground troops could not see coming. A squad of eight Lancers would deploy with Jay, acting as spotters and protectors while the scout Titan looked through his scope.

"All ships, time to go invisible. Activate stealth on my mark," Gunn said to the pilots of the other drop ships. The seconds ticked by as they drew closer to their objectives. "Mark! Switch to stealth mode now!"

Jinx, who was seated in the seat next to Gunn, flipped a series of switches and the lights inside the Maiden changed from dim white to low blood-red. Outside, the hull of the Maiden moved and clicked as armour plating shifted to close any gaps causing unnecessary wind noise. The same happened to the other drop ships. As the last plate shifted and locked into place the whine of the drop ship's engines lowered to almost an inaudible drone, mostly due to the engines reducing power and using specialized flaps to reduce noise and contrail visibility. The last mechanism to activate before the drop ships disappeared from radar and sight was a curios device located near the cockpit of each drop ship. Pilots called it White Noise, and its only function was to emit a range of sound in all directions, changing frequency every time the engines changed in tone. This device counteracted all sound from the engines and made the drop ships almost completely silent. The only way to spot them was with the naked eye, and that was also a problem due to their odd shape and colour. Its matt grey hull was the same colour as the sky above Santor, rendering the Maiden and its sister ships nothing but mere phantoms in the sky.

"Two minutes until drop," Gunn reported to Locke and the other drop ships.

A chorus of affirmatives answered her words.

Gunn raised the nose of the Maiden, rolling into a dive as she plunged towards the first objective, the Maiden's sister ships mirrored its manoeuvre precisely, trailing behind the lead ship. Gunn had chosen to drop down almost on top of the first objective instead of flying low over the buildings around it, drawing less attention from any eyes in the vicinity of the school.

"Blue Two, take the lead, deploy once you are over your designated drop zone, the rest of you follow Blue Two," Gunn ordered the drop ship that was acting as her wingman during the drop.

"Roger that," the pilot of Blue Two said. It turned to its right sharply and the other two drop ships followed suit.

"Drop is less than a minute Captain!" Gunn reported over the radio.

"Now is the time Wolves, stand!" Locke yelled over the radio, leaving the channel open for Gunn and Jinx and the rest of the ground troop to hear what he was about to say.

Locke's inspirational speeches before battles were as much legend as he was, and he delivered them with fervour, instilling courage into all who heard him speak.

They were less than thirty seconds away from their drop zone, so Locke needed to make it short and very powerful.

The hero that Locke was obliged and rose to the occasion, as was his way.

The Maiden reduced its speed as it swooped in low between the buildings overlooking the first objective. A stealth drop was quick and unnoticeable to any untrained onlookers. The Maiden's belly was only a few feet above the ground and still moving when its bay door opened to unchain its angry cargo. Gloomy clouds had obscured the sunset over Santor, giving the Wolves and the rest of the ground forces another advantage in the falling darkness.

The Wolves leapt from the Maiden's gaping door, touching down on the ground with barely a sound. Gunn raised the nose of the Maiden of Flame as soon as the last Wolf exited her ship, gaining altitude and increasing power, racing towards the next objective.

Elsewhere the other drop ships had performed the exact same manoeuvre to offload their own cargo, compensating only slightly more for the weaker Lancers and the support vehicles.

"Package delivered," Gunn reported less than a minute after the Wolves had touched down.

Jay was alone until his protection detail arrived, which would be barely a handful of minutes. Jay was still locating the best position for Godwaker to be set up when the other drop ships appeared overhead. Eight Lancers dropped from the leading ship in silence, only nodding at the scout Titan as they passed his position. Two of the Lancers carried a mounted heavy machine gun, and another followed with a portable scanning station attached to his back. The Lancers took up positions on the roof surrounding Jay, leaving nothing to chance, covering all of the angles they possibly could. Jay felt at ease as he saw the heavy machine gun positioned close by, its field of fire covering the doors leading up from the bowels of the building beneath.

"In position," Jay reported to Locke, who was hidden in the doorway of an abandoned cafe. He could see the first objective, the school, from his positions, as could the rest of the Wolves on the ground.

Christian and Nathan crouched nearby, watching for movement on either side of the street in front of the school.

Xander stood in the doorway of the building next door, silently flicking at one of the devices attached to his armour, scanning the area in front of the school with his tactical sight.

Pyoter was invisible to the naked eye, standing upright behind Locke in the shadow of the cafe. He stood dead still, like a marble statue of ancient times, watching over the Wolves flanks from within the cafe.

Rivers was pacing between tables of the deserted cafe, making sure to side step anything that could make a sound, careful not to alert whatever else lurked in the shadows nearby. He noticed how plates of rotting food and cups full of drinks were left by customers, almost as if they had just vanished, leaving everything behind without even taking a bite or a sip.

"Where is everyone?" Xander muttered mostly to himself, but the others heard it over the squad radio.

"The only thing left are ghosts and the stench of unwashed bodies," Rivers replied, still pacing back and forth.

"I see nothing," Jay said over the radio, "no movement." The scout Titan was using Godwaker's superior scope to sweep the objective for signs of life.

"Sabian?" Locke asked over another channel.

"Captain Locke?" Sabian replied with a hint of tension to the veteran's voice.

"Take position on the east side of the objective, quietly if you please," Locke ordered, his advanced hearing from his suit OS picking up the engine noise of the approaching Lancers.

"Roger that, Captain."

A few seconds later Locke heard the engine noise of the Lancer's vehicles vanish almost completely, melting into the background noise of the dead city. Locke made a mental note to shake Sabian's hand when he saw him again; the old man's was damn good at his job.

"Taking up position, my men are in the buildings overlooking the school's stone courtyard. Vehicles are in the alley behind the brown building," Sabian told Locke.

"Good. Marking your positions on my display," Locke replied.

"Much appreciated, Captain." Sabian closed the channel before Locke could say anything else, probably too busy with setting up his men and creating firing lines to support the Wolves.

"Corporal Joshua, report," Locke said over the squad channel again.

"I see nothing yet, sir. I can't see the south entrance, but from here the school looks empty." Jay was scanning the windows of the objective for any movement, but the darkness inside obscured whatever was still there.

There was silence for a few moments as the Wolves considered their next action. They had not expected to find the school like this. In fact they did not expect everything to be so quiet, and the eerie atmosphere in Santor did not help the situation at all. Where were all the soldiers? Where were the civilians? There weren't even any dead bodies anywhere. Nothing, there was just nothing, only stone and concrete. Locke had seen some strange battlefields in his career as a soldier, but this was an anomaly, especially after what they had seen in orbit before making planet fall. Death always accompanied war, and it had to be close by. What unsettled Locke the most, was that he could not see it this time, which meant only one thing, it was patiently lying in wait, for whatever crossed its path first.

An explosion drew everyone's eyes to the skies above the school, watching as an enemy fighter burst into bright flames, tracer fire from friendly fighters still peppering its destroyed hull. The Hyperion's fighter wing was making sure that the enemy did not eject and add more bodies for the ground forces to face. It trailed smoke and flame as the wreckage that was once a ship lost altitude, crashing loudly in a street to the south of the school.

Everyone tensed as the fire roared in the gloom a few streets away, lighting up the south in an unsettling glow.

The Wolves were the first to hear it, their advanced suits granting them the ability to hear far better than most normal humans. Off in the distance, behind the curtain of flame from the fallen fighter and the sound of the dead city, a howl built slowly.

Pyoter's head snapped up as he heard the rising sound, recognizing it instantly. "Beasts?" he asked with surprise in his voice.

"We can ask Lord Vincent about it later." Locke raised his hand and gestured for Christian and Nathan to take the lead. "He has some explaining to do," he added before crossing the street behind the Titan brothers.

Pyoter, Xander and Rivers followed without a word. The Wolves had to search and clear the first objective, before the unknown monsters prowling the streets of Santor discovered there was something new on the menu.

Like thunder splitting the sky Godwaker fired its first round, hitting a monster leading a horde of mutants towards the school from the south, leading them towards where the Wolves were silently clearing the first objective.

The bullet hit the monster in the chest, liquefying its torso instantly and taking the limbs off another beast behind the intended target. At more than two-thousand yards away the bullets of Godwaker were still lethal to anything organic, not bothering to discriminate between armoured targets or bare chested mutants.

Another artificial clap of thunder announced Godwaker's eagerness to kill. Two more targets went down as the horde advanced closer to the first objective.

"Captain, your guests will be arriving soon," Jay reported over the channel open to the entire ground force.

"How many guests will be crashing our party?" Locke asked his scout Titan.

"Unknown," Jay replied, "they are rapidly advancing on your position. It is as if they smell something."

Locke paused before replying, the scene he was looking at explained exactly what the monsters on their doorstep smelt. "We know why...keep me updated Corporal," Locke ordered Jay, switching channels to the squad radio the other Wolves were talking on. Locke caught the last part of what Rivers was saying.

"...these are bullet holes. This was done by human hands, and there are no bite marks or cuts in the flesh of these bodies." Rivers stood from where he had been crouching over a dead body, moving to the corner of the great hall were an old wooden desk stood. On top of the table was an emergency broadcasting station, lights glowing dimly as it repeated the recorded message over and over again. Rivers flipped a switch on the station's side and the recording stopped moments before the lights went out.

"How many do you see?" Locke asked the Wolves standing around the great hall.

"At least fifty over here," Xander replied.

"The same here, maybe more," Nathan added, standing next to his quiet brother, who had not said a word since they had found the scene before them.

"More than a hundred in the hallway beyond the hall, and many more scattered everywhere" Pyoter said in a low and grim tone. "They were trying to flee from whatever was killing them."

"We know what was killing them!" Rivers yelled at the giant Titan, the anger in him breaking through his emotional defences. "It was him, and he needs to pay!"

Pyoter did not respond, choosing to only nod at Rivers instead of punishing him for the outburst.

"He will," Locke said.

"I count more than five-hundred dead, sir. No-one was spared." Xander walked over to where a mother was clutching her daughter in her arms, both of them were ice cold, staring with dead eyes at the ceiling of the school's grand hall. Xander closed their eyes with his armoured hand, and muttered curses under his breath as he moved to do the same with all of the bodies near him.

Gunfire suddenly erupted from the east as Sabian's men encountered the first monster clambering over the east walls of the school.

"There are targets everywhere Captain Locke. They snuck up on us from the east. Your squad will be surrounded within moments. They are coming from all sides!" Sabian's voice was strained, and gunfire could be heard in the background as he reported the situation from his position.

"Can you make it to the vehicles?" Locke asked Sabian.

"Aye, we can make it," Sabian replied.

"Mount up and move to the north side of the objective. Kill everything you encounter that looks unfriendly. The first objective is clear. No survivors to rescue." Locke switched channels to the Wolves again before Sabian could reply - not that he needed to hear Sabian reply, he trusted the man completely. "Xander, make a hole. We are leaving."

Xander unclipped a device from his thigh as he moved to the north wall of the great hall, punching in a sequence of numbers as the red lights on the device started to flicker.

The gunfire to the east died down slowly and Locke could hear the engines of the light escort vehicles growling into life, there was no need for stealth anymore. The hornet's nest had been kicked and the mutants wanted to feed.

"Here they come," Pyoter announced from the window overlooking the stone courtyard Sabian and his men had been covering, the lull in gunfire had allowed the mutated humans to climb over the stone walls and were now almost on top of the Wolves. "Fifty meters and closing fast, sir." Pyoter added, clipping his sword to his back as he drew his pistol, aiming it through the window, taking slow steps back towards the middle of the hall.

Nathan and Christian stepped up beside Pyoter and readied their own weapons. They would need to protect the rear of the squad as soon as the device went off. The beasts would rush in and break through any gap they could find to reach the still living buffet inside. The Wolves would only have to hold them off for a few minutes while they waited for Sabian to clear a path to the north of them, but those few minutes would feel like a lifetime.

The device Xander had so lovingly attached to the north wall went off with a muffled blast, directed outwards by the custom casing covering the device. The stone wall cracked and burst outward like a ripe boil, spewing stone everywhere, piercing the flesh of the monsters who had ventured close to the north wall. Concrete and stone shrapnel from the explosion tore a hole in the horde to the north, but it was not enough as more beasts stepped over the bodies of the dead, filling the gaps in their ranks within moments.

Pyoter's pistol echoed in the great hall as the first monster broke through the windows overlooking the courtyard. The shot took the head off the leaping monster in a fountain of blood, but another monster was right behind it to take its place.

All of the Wolves fired at the beasts entering the hall from all sides; killing droves as the seconds ticked by before they could leave the relative safety of the great hall and make a run for the vehicles approaching from the east.

Godwaker was bellowing from the distance, pulverizing mutated flesh with every shot. Jay was covering his new squad with expert precision, and he was living up to everyone's expectations, for now.

Locke dodged a fast moving mutant trying to dart into the hall from the hole Xander had blown there, but the creature's attacks were clumsy and Locke dispatched the thing with a powerful punch to its face, leaving nothing but a bloody mess behind where the creature's head used to be.

Captain Locke drew his own rifle and sighted the hungry monsters rushing towards them, pulling the trigger as his bullets splattered brains and burst hearts. In the back of his mind he silently willed Sabian to hurry up. There were more monsters than he had seen in a long time, and he knew that Santor was not dying, it was dead.

Soon, the Wolves, and everyone else still drawing breath, would see exactly how dead a city, and a planet, could truly be. Its death echo would haunt the sectors for decades to come, and its memory would forever be written in the minds of the people who saw it perish.

Exactly thee minutes and fifty seconds later Sabian's convoy arrived in a hail of gunfire, ripping everything in its path to shreds. High calibre fire peppered the monsters swarming over the school buildings while the Lancers inside the vehicles covered the flanks with their rifles, firing from slits in each troop carrier's side armour, lending more weight to the onslaught the lightly armoured convoy was throwing around.

Bullets impacted against the wall Locke was leaning against as he shouldered his rifle, firing and keeping the monsters away from the breach Xander's explosive had made. If the beasts plugged their escape hole, then it would complicate their extraction and movement to the second objective.

Xander was right next to his captain, throwing different kinds of smaller devices at the rushing horde, vaporizing anything within proximity to the deadly devices when they exploded. He unclipped a grenade shaped like a five pointed star from his looping belts, tossing it into the head of a bulky monster running for the breach. The grenade pinned itself in the forehead of the monster, and before it could take another step its head vanished in a spray of blood and gore. Its body slumping and falling forward as its momentum carried it forward. It finally came to rest in front of the breach, lifeless and leaking blood into the concrete below its ravaged body.

But there was no time to admire Xander's handy work as another beast, twice the size of the one that had just died, stepped over the dead bodies of its allies, casually trudging towards the breach with a hunched over posture. Locke emptied a clip into the creature, but it still kept coming. Head shots from Xander's pistol just ricocheted off the beast's skull, unable to penetrate its bony cranium.

It was too close to use any explosives and bullets were not halting its forward movement. Locke turned his head for only a moment to see that the other Wolves were too busy with their own battles, which meant Locke and Xander would have to deal with the monster on their own.

Rivers stood with his back against the wall not too far away from the breach. But his shotgun was pointed inward, firing slugs into beasts trying to overwhelm Pyoter and the Quinn brothers.

Pyoter was engaged in a frantic melee battle with a large group of mutated humans, furiously swinging his giant blade as they attacked him from all angles. Pyoter was in his element though, and the giant Titan expertly parried every strike, relishing the battle anger his skill was feeding on. He swung his sword high and cleaved another monster in half from head to asshole, separating another beast's head from its mutated body with the follow-up swing.

Christian rammed his shield into the chest of sickly-pink monster that had jumped into the great hall from the broken windows overlooking the stone courtyard. The blow knocked the creature senseless, and it took a few struggling steps on wobbly legs towards Pyoter's killing grounds. It never reached Pyoter; the sound of Nathan's launcher from behind Christian felled the beast before it reached Pyoter. Nathan ejected the spent shell and reloaded one of his launchers, its barrel still smoking. The click and thump announced to Christian another shell was ready to be fired, and he charged the closest beast to set up another tag-team kill.

The lumbering monster was almost upon Xander and Locke; its sheer size blocking any other monsters from sneaking into the breach. Its flabby body was only a few steps from the breach when thunder sounded Godwaker's involvement in the fight.

Locke and Xander took a step back, drawing their blades, but it would not be necessary. The monster's body trembled as Godwaker fired three shots into its back. It stopped its slow trudge forward, turning to try and look behind it, not understanding where the sudden pain had come from. It never saw or heard the fourth bullet coming, dying instantly as Jay's fourth shot went right through the creature's heart, leaving nothing but a hole in the creature's torso. Jay had used the first three shots to weaken the creature's flesh, aiming the fourth shot to use that weakness to kill it.

For a moment the creature stood as still as a statue, unmoving and frozen upright. Xander was the one to shoulder the monster in its fat belly, causing the dead mutant to fall backward, crushing two other beasts beneath its weight.

Sabian's request to leave interrupted Locke's thought of commending Corporal Joshua on an excellent shot. "Can we leave now Captain?" Sabian asked over the radio.

Locke did not reply, instead he turned to call his Wolves. "Our ride has arrived Wolves. Xander make sure we aren't followed. Pyoter will take the lead. Nathan and Corporal Quinn cover the rest of us. Move out!" he ordered.

Xander turned and immediately unclipped handfuls of devices from his belts, tossing them into the beasts and open spaces in the great hall. Pyoter finished his fight by removing the limbs off the closest monsters before falling back to the breach. Rivers and Nathan covered his retreat with a barrage of shotgun and launcher fire while Christian used his shield and blade to batter away anything following them.

Pyoter broke into a run and jumped through the breach, lifting his sword high as he carved a path through the monsters disorientated by the gunfire from the convoy. Christian and Nathan were right behind him, shouldering and stabbing their way forward. Rivers had clipped his shotgun to his back and used his bare hands to smash heads into pulp as he pushed forward behind the other three. Locke was next to leave the great hall, firing his Kicker with one hand as he used his free hand to slap away anything trying to get close to him.

Xander was the last to leave the great hall, running at full speed through the breach. He had left enough devices inside to make even him worried about the blast. He ran so fast he passed Locke and Rivers as he made for the convoy, and this in turn made everyone else run even faster.

"There is a big boom coming. Get clear!" Xander yelled over the radio, picking up speed as he jumped on top of the lead vehicle of the convoy before anyone else. He had passed everyone with his stocky body at full tilt, dodging underneath Pyoter's blade without losing any speed.

"Boom time!" he screamed with relish as the last of the Wolves reached the lead vehicle.

Xander pressed the activation button on his handheld custom detonator, smiling inside his helmet at the same time as the click of the detonator ignited the devices within the great hall.

A blue light, more blinding that the death of a star, erupted from every hole and window in the school's stone and concrete body. Silence hit the convoy as the explosion blotted out sight and sound.

The convoy was already moving when the blue light erupted, the drivers of each vehicle gunning the engines as soon as the Wolves had latched onto the lead troop carrier. No-one was looking back at the blinding devastation of the first objective. No-one expect Xander of course, he had used his suit OS to shield and darken his visor, watching in creepy fascination at the explosion and its hungry destruction.

They reached the street leading away from the first objective when a second explosion followed the blinding light, chaining the two together to wipe the entire school from the face of the planet, rocking the entire city with its raw power. The shockwave was felt as far as the city edges, by monster and enemy soldier alike.

The two vehicles protecting the rear guard of the convoy were lifted into the air and slammed into a nearby building by the force of the blast. Luckily the Lancers inside and the vehicle itself were relatively unharmed, the light armour doing its job well enough to keep the vehicle operating.

Locke looked at Xander who was standing on top of the troop carrier, looking back at the destruction. He slapped the Titan on the helmet with his armoured hand to draw Xander's attention.

Xander turned to his captain, lifting his shoulders and hands in a questioning gesture, saying nothing to accompany the action.

Locke just shook his head in disbelief as the convoy raced away from what was only a smoking crater now, heading for the second objective.

Hopefully there were people still alive at the hospital, and there would not have to be a repeat of what happened at the school.

As they closed the distance towards the second objective, Christian scanned the city with his suit's sensors. The maximum range for his suit's scanner was only a few miles, but he still held on to his hope of seeing the beacon where Jessica was, popping up before everything went to hell in Santor.

# Chapter Six.Two  
Objectives

" _It is when we are surrounded by our enemies on all fronts that a human's true personality shines through. The danger clears the cloudiness of the human soul and reveals what is hidden within. The strong stand firm in the face of peril, drawing strength from the terror clawing at their courage, and thus fuelling their resolve until nothing can break them. The weak, however, crack and crumble, scurrying to save their own lives before the monsters can get to them, and they drag anyone down with them, never stopping to consider the value of human life. These insects need to be stepped on by armoured boot, or broken over the knee of our heroes. Crush the weak, and feed them to our enemies so we may grow to hate them more."  
-General Tolas Bastion, Self-proclaimed War Prophet, Counted among the lost after the disappearance of the Gravenstein, 2571 - 62 ASD_

Captain Gray's calm exterior was solid in front of his bridge crew, but on the inside his nerves were raw.

For hours he had pushed his beloved Hyperion to its very limits, dodging vessel after vessel trying to strafe the Hyperion or block its path. Luckily his ship was faster than most of the swarm chasing in the Hyperion's wake. Gray's cunning manoeuvres had saved his ship more than once, but the cat and mouse game could not go on forever - something would have to give, eventually.

The Stygian Council was too slow to catch the Hyperion itself, so instead its commander had ordered its escorts to chase it down and cripple it. Vincent wanted Captain Gray alive and begging for his life at his feet. Only then would he kill the Hyperion while Gray watched, relishing the shock on the aging captain's face as his crew and ship broke apart and perished in the cold, silent void.

But Gray knew the black-haired bastard wanted him to grovel and beg. That was the kind of man Vincent was, only happy when people feared him or asked for his glorious mercy. The man's arrogance and haughtiness was disgusting, and Gray was not planning on giving the bastard what he wanted.

No, Gray was going to draw Vincent out, and little by little force the man to make a mistake as the commander of the Stygian Council's annoyance and anger with the chase grew. Gray understood the weakness of men like Vincent, the arrogance and anger growing until it overtook reason and clear thought. When that time came, Gray would be ready to pounce on whatever opportunity Vincent's weakness would provide.

Until then, however, he would draw on every ounce of skill he possessed, making sure that he kept his ship in one piece and of the reach of the Stygian Council's killing grasp. Gray heard Remy yelling at him through his daze of piloting his ship and pondering the unknown.

"Another bomber wing approaching!" Remy announced with a hint of fear in her voice.

"I see it!" Gray replied, his voice straining to maintain the same strength it always had when addressing his crew. He took immediate evasive manoeuvres to try and shake the bombers approaching fast.

An escort ship pursuing the Hyperion on its right flank was Gray's chosen target. The ship was named the Duchess, a small but agile escort vessel, running alongside its target in hopes of blocking it somehow to allow the bombers to cripple the Hyperion's engines. The Duchess lacked any significant firepower, its role within the fleet that of a light reconnaissance vessel, never tasked with any hostile operations. Its weapon bays were nothing but advanced reconnaissance equipment to survey and report findings directly to the Stygian Council. The Duchess was nothing more than a glorified camera with engines attached to it. But its captain, inexperienced and well out of his comfort zone, had his orders from Lord Vincent himself, and there was no wiggle room when his lord and commander made his wishes known. Block and disrupt the Hyperion, by any means necessary, meaning that if the Duchess had to be sacrificed, then that is exactly what would happen if Lord Vincent ordered it.

Orders from commanders like that always left officers in very peculiar positions when the time came to choose, and eventually they would have to choose between their orders and their own lives. Gray had served under such a commander in the days after he had graduated from the academy, and he knew that the weak officers would flinch ever time and choose their own pathetic lives instead of following an order. Gray hoped the captain of the Duchess was one of those weaker men as he aimed the Hyperion directly at the escort ship's bow.

The Hyperion would intercept and collide with the Duchess if both captains did not change course. Gray was gambling on the condition of the other captain's mental state, but he had no other choice and he needed a sacrifice to shake the bomber wing closing fast.

Captain Roy of the Duchess saw the Hyperion veer towards it suddenly and watched as it closed the distance towards his small vessel within seconds. Bile rose in Roy's throat as the words from Lord Vincent echoed in his mind. Sweat covered his entire body as the Hyperion bore down on the Duchess without changing course.

Gray was not going to flinch. He was determined to finish what he had started.

Less than five-hundred miles separated the two vessels - in void warfare five-hundred miles was like taking a shit on your neighbour's lawn while he watched from the porch - and it was time to choose for the captain of the Duchess.

Captain Roy chose to flinch, pulling his small vessel out of the path of the steamrolling Hyperion. Roy breathed a sigh of relief as the Hyperion passed above it, close enough to see the battle scars on the enemy vessel's hull. But his relief was short lived and he had only a few seconds left to live as he watched the Hyperion's aft weapon batteries fire a full volley at the Duchess.

The volley hit the Duchess right in its most vulnerable spot, right behind the shuttle bays were only thin armour protected the bays from the void outside. Because of its light classification and its generic build the gunners of the Hyperion knew exactly what would happen if their shots hit their intended target.

It was the fusion lances that succeeded in piercing the Duchess deep enough to rupture its small core. Roy stood unmoving as the flames engulfed his entire vessel, killing everyone on-board in the blink of an eye.

The Duchess vanished in a plasma explosion as the Hyperion powered away from the silent, yet deadly, shockwave spreading outward like a boulder thrown into a glassy pond. The ripple of hungry plasma engulfed everything for thousands of miles. Larger vessels further away from the explosion took almost no damage from the small core rupture, but the lesser vessels with less armour were not so lucky. Smaller vessels were damaged or utterly destroyed.

The unlucky ones included the bomber wing intent on crippling the Hyperion. Gray's sudden decision had cleared the Hyperion's wake in one daring move.

Gray chuckled to himself as he focused on opening up some distance between his ship and the hunting pack hell bent on destroying everything he held dear.

On the bridge of the Stygian Council Lord Vincent slammed his bony fist into the arm rest of his magnificent command throne. His eyes were aflame with anger, watching as the Hyperion pulled away from the rest of his fleet. Vincent did not realize it, but a small crack had appeared in his resolve, and that crack was exactly what Gray had been waiting for.

Torsos exploded and gore splattered on paving as the guns mounted on the convoy's lead vehicle scythed through the straggling monsters on the way to the second objective. The explosion at the first objective had drawn the beasts like moths to a very large flame. Every street the convoy passed the Wolves saw less and less threats stalking the avenues of Santor. Gunn and her drop ship companions had reported the same thing as they circled around the perimeter of all three objectives - the beasts were heading for the first objective at speed, rushing to investigate the bright lights in the night sky.

Xander's unnecessarily large bomb had been the perfect diversion for the convoy to escape what could have been a certain death situation. Hordes of beasts that still drew breath headed directly for the site of the first objective, base instincts compelling them to investigate what could be a delicious feast of dead flesh.

That was the only reason why Locke decided not to reprimand Xander for his recklessness, well that and maybe one more reason he would never mention to his squad. Locke watched the abnormally-shaped mushroom cloud rise above where the first objective used to be. The firestorm from the explosion lit up the night sky with a strange blue-yellow glow, casting alien shadows every time another fireball erupted from the cloud above the bomb site. Locke smiled behind his visor, beaming with joy at the destruction one of his Wolves had caused. The joy was not because of the explosion itself, but rather the realization that so many enemies were killed in one masterful, yet rash stroke. So many lives would be saved by Xander's endless experimentation with volatile elements and compounds. Locke had to admit to himself, even though Xander was a fool, he was still an artist at making things go boom.

Locke was pulled from his reverie when the driver of the vehicle below announced that the second objective had come into view.

Locke wasted no time, opening a channel to his eagle-eyed scout almost immediately. "What does it look like Corporal?" Locke asked Jay through static filled communications. Xander's bomb had done more than just made minced meat piles out of mutants.

"No beast activity, sir. I see Santor Defence Forces holding of what looks like black armoured infantry assaulting the objective," Jay replied.

"How many are we looking at?" Locke checked his Kicker as he spoke, and the rest of the Wolves were checking gear and equipment as they drew closer to the second objective.

"I count less than twenty defenders, and I can see close to fifty assaulters. Please hold." Godwaker screamed three times from its perch before Jay continued his assessment of the situation of the second objective. "Forty-five enemies, sir."

"Clear out as many as you can, we will be arriving shortly," Locke ordered.

"Roger that," Jay answered. Godwaker spoke again seconds later, felling another enemy.

Locke motioned for his Wolves to disembark from the lead vehicle, ordering Sabian to power through to the objective drawing fire from the enemies surrounding it.

Sabian's convoy sped up as the Wolves jumped from the convoy, his Lancer's priming mounted and hand-held weapons for a fast swooping manoeuvre through the enemy lines. Sabian would hit the assaulters head on with something ancient military tacticians called the Shock and Awe, hitting them fast and hard and then withdrawing to a safe distance to allow the Wolves to close in from the shadows.

Godwaker took down two more enemies as the convoy broke into the middle of the enemy lines. The shock move surprised the enemy troops while their attention was on the hospital and its defenders, the convoy broke their lines with a hail of automatic fire from mounted weapons and Lancers firing from vehicle slits. The convoy did not stop as it passed through, peppering everything armoured in black gunners and Lancers could see.

By the time the convoy had left the awe set in, in the convoys wake fifteen enemies lay dead and three more would never fight again. Sabian took his convoy around the objective in case Locke requested another pass, doubling as a safety net if anything should find its way to the second objective from the inner city.

The Wolves moved silently through a building overlooking the enemy lines, counting the black armoured soldiers as they took their positions, ready to pounce.

There were only fifteen left, and all of them were resuming their assault on the hospital. Sabian's sudden attack had left everyone dumbfounded, and without direction they resumed what they had been doing since nightfall. The enemy's two officers were killed in the shock attack, and so they could do nothing more than follow the last orders they were given - kill everyone, destroy the hospital.

Locke did not have to tell any of his Wolves what to do, all of them moving out of their own accord.

Nathan sighted a group of enemies below him, aiming at the head of the first of three soldiers manning a heavy machine gun. Sabian's attack had not penetrated the defensive barriers deep enough to destroy the more deadly weapons.

Locke did the same, taking position next to his second in command, aiming his Kicker at the soldiers at the front of the enemy lines.

Xander silently unclipped two grenades from his belt and adjusted his position to throw them into the midst of soldiers on the far side of the enemy filled avenue in front of the hospital.

Pyoter, Christian and Rivers dropped down to ground level, using the building's broken staircase to descend three floors in relative silence.

Pyoter led the three, Christian followed, his shield held up to hide his profile from anyone looking in his direction. Rivers was a few steps behind, his shotgun held at his hip as he scanned the bottom floor of the building they were passing through.

The enemy soldiers never heard the three Titans moving in behind them, never expecting to be attacked from that position when most of Santor was dead or dying.

A soldier at the back of the enemy lines paused to reload his rifle, asking in a whisper for the soldier next to him for another clip. Both soldiers were joking about shooting fish in a barrel, unable to see the giant, shadowy figure rise up behind them.

They were still chuckling like school children when Pyoter struck. He did not want to blunt his blade on these idiots, so instead he used his bare hands to kill both soldiers. He punched downward with his giant fist, almost pulping the first soldier's head, backhanding the second in the face. Both soldiers died instantly, their bodies going limp before they hit the paving.

Christian slipped his blade into the neck of a soldier close by as Rivers used his shotgun as a club to snap the neck of another enemy.

A soldier a few feet away noticed the Titans in their midst and screamed, but his scream died in his throat as his body sprouted new holes and his life blood poured out.

The element of surprise was now gone. The Wolves massacred the rest of the enemy within moments; Xander did not even have time to use his grenades.

Cheers erupted from the defenders around the objective as the gunfire from enemy positions fell silent. The cheering grew as they saw six Titans step from the enemy lines into the light of the hospitals compound.

The Wolves were already legends, and just laying eyes on them was a tale to tell on your deathbed. None of the defenders ever thought they would get the opportunity to fight alongside Titans.

But they would get the opportunity and more, and before the sun rose they would see why the Titans were all regarded as heroes of humankind.

Santor's largest hospital was not what one would expect when seen from the outside. Any off-world patients would refuse to go inside if they caught sight of the decrepit exterior posing as a place of healing.

It was never meant to be a permanent structure, built hastily during a time of great exploration in the sector and on the planet itself. Engineers had used pre-fabricated buildings at first, adding more and more structures as the years went by and the population grew. Eventually engineers ran out of pre-fabricated structures to expand the ever growing need for more capacity, so instead they built with whatever could be salvaged or spared from other municipal buildings.

New Horizon's age of prosperity brought many changes to the capital cities spread out across the planet's surface. But somehow the prosperity and renovations had skipped Santor's largest medical facility, and it was not aging well. Many of the older pre-fabricated structures had collapsed, leaving the younger patchwork structures by themselves. New Horizon's plant life had already begun to reclaim the older buildings, giving the entire medical compound the eerie atmosphere of a ruined city left to nature's own devices for far too long.

Sabian had circled the compound a few times to patrol its perimeter, ensuring that nothing was sneaking up on the objective and that nothing was lying in wait to ambush his convoy and the Wolves within the facility.

Sabian heard his men's comments and murmurings about the facility, all of them maintaining stalwartly that the hospital was a relic and a place of great sorrow. No-one had any good memories of it, and morale was starting to slip as the convoy stopped in front of the main administration building of the medical facility.

The Lancers not assigned to gunner duty disembarked from the vehicles and spread out around the main structure. Squads took up defensive positions, relieving Santor's defenders, giving the tired soldiers the time to take a breather before more shit hit the fan, and in a war with the beast - not to mention the traitors - poop would always hit some kind of moving part eventually.

Sabian stepped into the only double storey building inside the medical compound, eyeing the ruined buildings to either side of the administrative buildings as he stepped over the threshold.

The Wolves were waiting inside speaking to a soldier with exhaustion written on his face by deep wrinkles and dirt.

Locke spoke before Sabian could ask what the situation was. "Corporal Lemink here is the highest rank these men have to look to for guidance," Locke said, pointing at the poor soldier being scrutinized by the rest of the Wolves circled around him.

"Any civilians?" Sabian asked, nodding at Corporal Lemink as he stepped to stand next to the towering Locke.

Lemink answered, eager to prove that he was worth his salt, especially in the presence of such legends. "A few made it here before the bastards in black armour cut us off..." Lemink trailed off for a second before continuing. "Speaking of which sirs, who the hell were those sons of bitches?"

Locke stepped closer and put a hand on the Lemink's shoulder, looking down at the tired soldier. "All in good time Corporal. Where are the civilians?"

Lemink swallowed and understood that whatever was going on was far above his rank, he raised a hand and pointed at a side door leading to another part of the medical facility. "In the morgue sir. It was the most secure section of the hospital."

"Good," Locke replied, he motioned to Christian and Nathan to go check out the condition of the civilians and the morgue.

The Titan brothers moved without a word, moving at a quick pace through the door leading to the morgue. They disappeared in the darkness beyond the door, reporting back moments later with civilian count and condition.

Lemink was visibly nervous. He looked around at the other Titans, daring to ask a question, unable to maintain discipline because of his exhaustion. "Are you here to rescue us?" he asked.

"Of course," Pyoter replied, stepping closer to the man, lowering his voice so the man understood the gravity of the situation. "But our fight is not over yet Corporal."

Lemink's shoulders sagged visibly, words escaping him as he realized that his men were not out of trouble just yet.

"Have faith soldier," Sabian said from close by. He had already been planning a defence with Locke a few feet away from the other Wolves. "Our arrival here has piqued the interest of enemies nearby, steel your nerves, they will be upon us soon enough."

Lemink turned and walked to where his rifle had been resting against a table full of radio equipment. He picked it up and pulled back on the slide, arming it with a greasy click.

Xander slapped Lemink on the back. "Don't worry too much about it; we will be fighting next to you and your men. If something big and nasty comes for you, just hide behind Pyoter," Xander pointed at the giant Titan, "they won't see you behind him."

Xander's words brought a chuckle from Lemink and the rest of the Wolves.

Locke silenced the light-hearted moment with a wave of his hand before speaking. "Take up positions outside and cover the front of the building with the Lancers. Corporal Lemink and his men will take cover inside and defend the civilians." Locke said, relaying his orders to Christian and Nathan who were still in the morgue calming down the scared civilians.

Christian and Nathan would remain inside as well, acting as a final line of defence should whatever enemy shows up breach the defences outside. Luckily the building sported no rear entrance or even any kind of weakness from the building's rear. Engineers had designed and built the administrative building like a solid concrete block, with only a front entrance and windows on the second floor. The lead engineer must have been a military man, because the building was more like a bunker than anything else.

Sabian walked away, heading for the door leading outside. He was already issuing orders to his men as engines growled to life and vehicles moved to form defensive barriers in front of the entrance to the administrative building.

Locke heard Sabian tell his men to stop playing grab ass and form up, allowing Locke a wye smile behind his visor.

The Wolves exited next as Lemink's men entered, all of them still in shock, looking at the Titans with wide-eyed admiration as they passed them.

Locke was the last to step outside, opening up a channel to his scout. "What do you see Corporal Jay?" he asked the Titan sniper.

"Shit sir, and a lot of it," Jay replied.

"Good, I was starting to feel like this was too easy." Locke replied.

All of the Wolves heard their Captain's words, and for a moment they all smiled out of anticipation.

Soon those smiles would be grimaces, and the situation would be far from easy.

The Beast was the excrement heading for the Titan's metaphorical spinning blades, pouring out of every crevice like a tidal wave of mutant flesh, all of them unique in form and size. Grotesque parodies of human beings streamed from buildings to the north of the medical compound. The commotion caused by the silencing of the traitorous forces had piqued the attention of the monsters further north, monsters that had been heading for the giant mushroom cloud forming in the night sky when sounds of killing drew them from their hungry path.

Godwaker was the first to draw blood, blowing the torso off a mutant with snake like eyes and abnormally long arms, almost dragging its mutated lower half forward instead of walking. Its eyes went blank as most of its chest vanished in a spray of thick, mutated blood.

The first death of the bestial horde furiously kindled the anger within the mutant hearts heading for the hospital and its defenders. Howling and screeching erupted from mutated lungs, inciting fear in human psyches. Monsters charged as their bodies flooded with alien stimulants, driving them forward with a horrific craving for flesh.

Heavy weapons on armoured vehicles barked into life as the horde crossed the threshold into the medical compound, ripping limbs off and mutilating mutated bodies.

Volley after volley of fire hit the rushing wave, but still they gained ground, edging ever closer to the defenders hunkered down behind makeshift barriers - barriers that were mostly ruined parts of buildings, old disused medical equipment or broken bags of sand formed into hills of mud from recent weather conditions.

A fast-moving beast broke into a gallop, leading its mutated pack by a few steps, it dodged fire from a Lancer crouched behind what used to look like an old x-ray machine. It weaved its way through fire and a hail of bullets, its claws already snatching at tasty flesh it would soon devour.

One moment it was reaching for the Lancer that had fired at it, the next moment its head was missing. Artificial thunder reminded everyone that Godwaker was still watching over them.

Locke, who was firing controlled bursts from his Kicker at the closest target, rose from his position as the monstrous horde leapt over the first defensive barrier.

In that moment when two factions clash on a battlefield time slows down to a crawl, almost stopping completely as courage is weighed and measured against fear and damnation.

Soldiers winning the internal struggle against pissing themselves with fear roared with valour, shining like bright beacons of heroism, drawing weaker humans to them, shaping dread into exhilaration, turning defeat into victory.

And at the heart of those beacons stood the Wolves, roaring as the first creature reached the first defender. Time stopped as the first hit fell, it announced the start of a battle that would be remembered by every living soul, told and re-told many times in the years following the fall of Santor.

As the two factions clashed, an emergency beacon's awakening almost went unnoticed. A short distance to the west of the medical compound a beacon that was previously thought silent suddenly came to life.

It pinged only once, but it was enough for the person who had been hopeful of its appearance to see it.

Christian's eyes focused on the beacon's position, his suit OS feeding him readouts of scans on the building the beacon was broadcasting from.

He was overcome by feelings of joy, but at the same time flooded with guilt.

Christian knew what he was about to request would be insane, but his loyalty compelled him to ask before he abandoned his orders. It did not matter what the answer would be, he had instantly decided on the next course of action the moment the beacon appeared on his display. Love had left him no choice in the matter.

He just hoped his brother would understand what he was about to do.

Probably not, he thought as he opened his mouth to ask his Captain for permission.

# Chapter Seven  
Collision Course

" _It could be days, months or even years, sometimes even decades, but eventually all possible paths through time will converge on one single point. Experience has taught us that fate is a dangerous enemy, and getting in its way will only end in destruction. That is what we as a race still fight against, our inevitable fate, and our eventual end. Our enemies are the tools of our extinction, the Beast being fate's newest and sharpest one yet. The Titans are our armour against these weapons of destiny, they stand between us and ruination, but they cannot stop the certainty of our race's bloody end. Nothing can stop it, abandon faith and hope, and embrace the coming nothingness."  
-*Identity Removed*, Leader of the Church of Oblivion, Final recording found among the dead after the Massacre of Koraan, 2530 - 21 ASD_

Jessica had lost track of time in the gloomy light of Nash's bunker. Supplies had dwindled, battery levels for the lights and other machinery were dropping fast, and morale was almost zero.

Tristan rested her head on her sister's bony shoulder, breathing in the foul tasting air. Both sisters sat against the supply closet's wall. Jessica routinely counted the few cans of food still sitting on the shelves. The constant counting and recounting kept Jessica from losing it, adding a sense of calm to her mind as she tried to stay positive.

Nash had been correct, there were just enough supplies for one person to survive for a short period, but with four people the supplies would run out long before anyone would come for them.

That is why everyone had put all of their hopes on Sam fixing the beacon, something he had still not done after so many days. Nobody blamed him for his failure, the chances of fixing something so old and broken with no spare parts, was nigh on impossible.

Jessica could feel the filth on her skin, let alone smell it. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies and oxygen filters struggling against the massive job of cleaning the air from any pollutants.

Tristan shifted as her breathing changed, finally falling asleep on her sister's shoulder. The poor dwarf was having a hard time dealing with the situation, and her mood had become sullen once things had become dire. Her mental state was worrying Jessica, but there was nothing she could do about her little sister right now, hope would have to produce a miracle soon or they were all going to die slow and painful deaths.

Nash was sleeping as well, resting on the cold floor underneath his table of radio equipment. Radio equipment that had been turned off days ago, switched off after nothing but bad news kept flooding the channels still broadcasting in Santor. It also saved a lot of power once the power in the sector had died; putting less strain on the battery banks Nash had built into his bunker.

Sam was in the same room as Nash, still working on the rusty and broken beacon. Sam had chosen not to sleep too much, spending all of his time fixing what was in front of him. He had made so many makeshift parts out of old cans and utensils to complete circuits and fix transistors that the area around him looked like a junkyard. Sam's small, handheld welder sparked, creating creepy shadows inside the bunker.

Jessica watched as the shadows danced around the sparks, her eyes red from the tool's hateful bright light, and due to her lack of sleep. Her mind wandered on past events, unable to focus on any specific event.

She shook her head to clear the cloudiness away when a sudden screech from Sam's direction caused Jessica to raise her tired head. The sparks had been replaced by a red blinking, followed by an annoying beep.

Sam's eyes were wide and a smile crept across his lips. He was too tired to jump up from joy, so he just raised his arms in a moment of sheer triumph.

The beeping woke Tristan and Nash and both were in just as much shock as Jessica was.

Against all odds Sam had fixed something with almost nothing, a true testament to the engineer's exceptional skills.

No-one said anything for a few moments, just soaking in what the beacon's awakening meant for everyone. Feelings of new hope grew in each of their minds as they watched the blinking light on the beacon's side.

Nash was the only one to speak. "Now...we wait," he said, taking deep breathes as his old body struggled to gather energy from the thick air.

Everyone agreed, and everyone felt the hope in each other, but all of them knew deep down that they were not rescued just yet.

Soon they all hoped, soon.

"Incoming message from the Stygian Council, sir," Remy reported, she was strapped into her chair flanking the command chair Gray was seated in.

Gray took a deep breath, he had been wrestling with the Hyperion's controls for longer than he cared to remember, and his muscles were almost limp from the exertion. But his efforts had not been in vain, and over the course of hours he had opened up a good gap between his ship and the chasing traitors. Most of the faster vessels capable of catching him were either crippled by the Hyperion's expert gunners or too scared to come close, in fear of being destroyed or used as living mines against their own allies.

Remy shifted in her seat, eyeing Gray as she repeated herself, hoping the captain would hear her this time. "Sir, the Stygian Council is hailing us." Remy swallowed her worry down, trying not to sound concerned about Gray as she spoke.

"I heard you the first time Remy," Gray replied. "Give me a minute, please."

Remy nodded and waited for her captain's next order.

Gray took a moment, straitening his pristine jacket and wiping sweat from his brow as he composed himself for what he knew was going to be an awkward conversation. "I am ready," he said, nodding in Remy's general direction.

The display in front of Gray filled with static and then began to focus. Shapes became clearer and edges became smooth. Within moments two ship captains were staring at each other, silently sizing one another up as all void captains did when meeting one of their opposite numbers.

Gray said nothing, the moment he had been planning, and hoping for, was almost here. Whoever spoke first would be the loser, Gray knew this, and he doubted Vincent's arrogance would allow him to fathom the idea of psychological edges others might have over him. Gray could see Vincent's superiority just by the way he sat and watched with unblinking eyes. The man was not stupid, but his arrogance allowed a hint of ignorance to creep into his personality, and this was what Gray was going to use against the bastard.

"I thought you were dead," Lord Vincent said, his voice filled with his royal arrogance.

Gray smiled, not at the comment, but rather because he knew he had the son of a bitch right where he wanted him. Gray remained silent, shifting in his chair as if to show Vincent that he is annoyed and not impressed by his words, or even his appearance.

Lord Vincent's mouth curled into a snarl, slamming his fist into the extravagant throne he sat in. "Answer me you scum!" he said, his voice rising in pitch as his anger grew.

Still Gray said nothing and just kept smiling, scratching at the stubble of grey hair on his chin.

"I am still a master of this race and your superior in command! You will answer me Captain!" Vincent's anger was enough to almost manifest into the physical realm.

"My superior?" Gray finally said. "Looking at you now Victor," the name spoken with venom, "I see nothing but a pathetic excuse for a human. You are a master of nothing but slaves and hollow loyalty. I pity your crew and everyone that has ever served you. Your actions here, and whatever you are planning, invalidated everything you have ever done for our race. Most of all, Victor, I pity you as much as I pity an insect before I step on it. Your words, and your elaborate power, it means nothing to any of us. You have lost the right to order me and my crew around."

Lord Vincent remained quiet for a minute. He struggled to contain himself. "You will die, and I will watch you burn up with your ship. I will make an exception, killing your home world next. One by one I will wipe anyone who has ever heard of you and those precious Titans from this universe. And then I will piss on the ashes of your family name. You will be forever damned and so it will be written in history. You and everyone you call an ally will be dust and bone, forgotten forever." Lord Victor let the words hang in the air, his intention as always trying to strike fear into his subordinates, that is the only way he knew how to control situations.

But he was not dealing with his slaves. No, he was dealing with free-thinking soldiers, something that was far more dangerous to his master plan than anything else.

Gray chuckled under his breath. "And I thought you were going to ask me to surrender or something."

"You and your family are all dead. I will personally slit the throat of any child or grandchild you have fathered!" Lord Vincent was furious, his temper flaring out of control as Captain Gray's insubordination pierced his calm exterior.

"You are too late, they are already dead. You will have to find something else to threaten me with." Gray replied.

Lord Vincent relaxed slightly as he shifted in his chair, lowering his clenched hands to the arm rests of his throne. "Everything," he mumbled mostly to himself, but he raised his voice as he continued, "I will kill everything and everyone in my path. The blood of millions of humans will be on your hands. You will learn what it means to be truly alone, Willis."

The use of his first name angered Gray slightly, but he did not show it. "Then we will have to stop you," Gray said, keying in a code in his command chair out of sight of Victor's cold eyes.

"Don't make me laugh you old fool. You have nothing but a ship and a few men. Your Titans are on New Horizon, and they will die there, I will make sure of it. The other Titans that still lived are all dead, I have seen to it. The Grim Wolves are the last of their kind," Lord Vincent laughed as he spoke, his anger turning once again to arrogance.

"We shall see," Gray said with disgust in his voice.

"Indeed we will."

"You have lost touch with what our mission was Vincent; you have been blinded by power and greed."

"Do not lecture me about our mission, I am upholding our ideals. I just found a faster way to reach them. You cannot teach me any more you fool."

"Wrong," Gray said, nodding at Remy to his side. "An old bastard can still teach a child like you a few things. Now!" Gray yelled at Remy.

Lord Vincent's eyes widened as he saw the light grow around the Hyperion's hull. The conversation had given Gray enough time to charge his BEAM drive for a short jump. Gray had been stalling. He could do nothing as Gray got the final words in before the Hyperion jumped.

"Tell me something Victor. How long does it take for your behemoth to charge?" Gray could be heard laughing as he spoke again. "First to the finish then?" he said as the display in front of Victor filled with static.

The Hyperion vanished from sight, its BEAM drive carrying it away from the traitor's fleet. Gray knew that he had only bought them a few hours, and Victor's escort ships would be faster at reaching New Horizon than their command ship. But nevertheless, he had given them some time to get back and rescue the Wolves.

Hopefully they were still drawing breath.

Nathan held up a hand to silence his brother before he said something that he would regret. "I see it. Is it her?" he asked Christian, his brother was shifting from one armoured boot to the other, his brother's body language showing Nathan that his brother was at a crossroads.

"I think so," Christian replied.

"That is not good enough. You have to do better than that." Nathan's tone was serious, heavy with annoyance from what was becoming a problematic situation.

Christian turned to face Nathan, slipping his shield behind his back. "I can feel it. It is her," he said, the certainty in his voice was clear.

Nathan nodded, that was enough for him, there might have been issues between him and his little brother, but he trusted Christian's judgement. "I will handle it. Go outside and find Lemink, tell him to send some of his men to guard the civilians."

"Thank you, brother," Christian said, the words difficult to form because of the rocky past they shared.

"Don't thank me yet. The rest won't be happy to hear we are leaving."

"We?" Christian asked, puzzled.

"Yes...we, now go."

Christian nodded and left the morgue without pushing the subject. Already he felt a little better knowing his brother trusted him enough to have his back in a situation like this.

Nathan took a deep breath and opened a channel to Gabriel, private so the rest of the squad did not hear the conversation.

"Say again," Locke said, fending off a monster with bone blades for limbs lunging towards him. "Are you joking?"

"No Gabriel, Lemink will protect the civilians. We need to investigate the new beacon. It might be a high value civilian, someone we might need," Nathan replied.

"How could you possibly know that?" Locke asked. His voice strained as he cut a bladed arm off that was trying to pierce his chest armour.

"Let's just say, there was a feeling."

"Crap," Locke replied, "you will have to explain that "feeling" to me later..."

There was silence for a moment, Nathan waiting for Locke to continue. He could hear the captain breathing hard as heavy weapon gunfire erupted nearby.

"Go. You have a few hours. If you aren't at our primary extraction point by the time we need to leave, we leave without you."

"I understand Gabriel, we will be there."

Christian returned just as Nathan finished speaking to Locke. Nathan switched of the squad radio and with his thumb pointed it behind him, meaning only one thing - we are leaving, ready up.

Christian understood instantly. Lemink's men were already filing into the morgue, seeing to the civilians and taking up positions to cover the morgue's only entry point.

"We can't go out the front, take the stairs, we can jump to the next building from the first floor," Nathan told his brother.

Without a word Christian ascended the stairs with his brother right behind him. Within a few seconds they were looking out of the first floor windows at the front of the medical facility. An ocean of bodies, mutated and human, feverishly battled for survival below them. The Titans were like lights in the darkness of the monstrous tide, around them the Lancers gathered and mounds of dead beasts piled up as they died. Tracers from the weapons mounted on the vehicles lit up the shadows as they blew mutated bodies apart.

Nathan took a moment, stepping up to the window before he spoke. "I hope you are right. We will all die if you are wrong about this."

"I am certain, Nathan. I would not leave unless I was compelled to."

"You always were a sap for the ladies. Let's go before I change my mind." Nathan turned and broke into a sprint, heading for the windows overlooking the internal areas of the old medical facility.

Christian followed his brother, matching his speed as they rushed towards the largest window.

In a crash of broken glass they leapt through the window, sailing over a small gap between the administration building and an abandoned building which use to be a children's ward. The Titan brothers landed without losing speed, and soon they disappeared into the darkness, moving as fast and as silent as they could. They were heading for the western perimeter, slipping through the gaps in the broken walls around the facility within a few seconds after jumping down to ground level.

Their departure had gone unnoticed. Christian breathed deep as he led the way to the beacon in his visor, it was still pinging back. As his muscles started to burn from excitement and the cocktail of stimulants pumped into his blood by the Nano machines, he silently hoped that he had not just doomed everyone.

The shadows of the dying Santor swallowed up the two Titans as they traversed broken barriers and abandoned cars at full sprint.

In a handful of moments Christian would know if he had made a mistake or not.

Little did everyone know, but his rash decision was a miracle just waiting to become reality.

If they believed in it enough that was.

The others did not believe it at first, but there was no time to really think on it. Xander had made a joke about going with, seeing as there were fewer monsters in the direction they were heading.

At least the spirits of the squad was still high, even though the laughter died almost instantly as battle instincts replaced humour.

The fight in front of the medical facility was relentless, neither side giving the other any room to gain the upper hand. One moment a swathe of beasts would be cut down, opening up a gap in the tide of mutant flesh washing over the human defenders, the next moment a Lancer would die horrifically, breaching the psychological defences of every defender nearby.

Another Lancer fell just as the laughter died, his mutilated body falling awkwardly into the blood soaked paving. Blood flowed out of the dead, mixing with the mud and stone beneath the battle's feet.

The sound the ground underneath made was a sickening schlop schlop as boots and mutated appendages danced for survival.

Pyoter had sheathed his giant blade, its keen edge dulled on mutant flesh and bone. The Lancers around him fought with blind fury, using whatever weapon they had at their disposal to kill the monsters assailing their position. The larger than life Titan fought shoulder to shoulder with the Lancers, protecting as many as he could while he crushed heads and ripped limbs from bodies with his bare hands.

But it was not going to be enough; the tide was closing in around Pyoter and the Lancers at his side. They had already been pushed back from their original position, their backs now against one of the convoy's vehicles. Pyoter saw the tide shift again as an explosion cleared a hole in front of him, blowing bodies to pieces, showering everything in the vicinity with filthy gore. He glanced over to Xander's position, the explosive expert giving him a nod to accept his silent thanks. Xander resumed his vigil over the Lancers under his charge, using his pistol to blow the heads off anything that came near, and his free hand reaching for devices on the belts looping around his armoured form.

The short reprieve gave Pyoter an opportunity to try something. In one motion he jumped on the vehicle behind him, sidestepping the body of the recently deceased gunner of a heavy machine gun mounted on the armoured hull.

"Cover me!" Pyoter yelled at the Lancers and everyone else close enough to hear him. Pyoter gripped the heavy machine gun with both hands and lifted with all of his strength.

Godwaker announced itself again, turning flesh into pulp as a short stocky creature tried to climb onto the same vehicle Pyoter was on.

For a moment nothing happened, and only the straining sounds of Pyoter's strength bubbling to the surface could be heard over the radio.

Pyoter groaned louder, veins in his body bulging as his armour leant him even more strength. The heavy machine gun came loose with the sound of ripping metal and breaking bolts. One moment the giant Titan was crouched, groaning as if he was taking a massive shit, the next moment he had planted his feet on the armoured hull and raised the massive machine gun in his armoured hands.

"Get down!" Pyoter yelled again, warning the Lancers and everyone in his firing arc to take cover.

Rivers and Locke who had been fighting back to back to the left of Pyoter's positions heard Pyoter's words only moments before the bullets crashed into everything unfriendly.

The other gunners still alive joined the chorus of unrelenting fire, led by the conductor Pyoter.

At first the other gunners fired conservatively, like they had been trained to do, saving bullets for their escape, but it was clear that they would need everything before they could even think of leaving the facility alive. Gunners who had fired around their own men were freed from their shackles as everyone that could took cover behind whatever was nearby, some just dropped to the ground where they stood, covering their heads with their hands.

Pyoter never took his finger off the trigger, unleashing everything the weapon possessed into the monstrous tide in front of them. Belts from inside the vehicle below him fed the weapon bullets as fast as the loading mechanism could, almost struggling to keep up with the unyielding hail of bullet-shaped fury.

The giant Titan screamed with his berserker rage, his ancient bloodline fuelling his very soul with anger and hate for the things intent on killing what he was trying to protect.

"Shit," Xander breathed as he dared to peek around his cover, tossing two elongated devices blindly over the top of the barrier he was behind. There was no way he was going to let Pyoter have all of the fun. He threw three more devices as the string of bullets changed its path towards another group of monsters that dared to enter the facility's gates.

Most of the monsters close enough to kill were all but dead, their bodies lifeless and mutilated in the bloody mud. Locke and Sabian yelled at the soldiers to fire their own weapons at the monsters, strengthening the hail of gunfire snuffing out the lives of everything that used to be human.

Locke stepped over his cover, followed by Rivers. Both Titans fired their weapons without pause at the few monsters that still remained. Pyoter was still firing, although he had reduced the count of targets from many to almost none. Bodies were scattered everywhere as the first Gunner in a vehicle to Pyoter's right reported zero ammo count. Xander and the Lancers who were taking cover with him joined Locke and Rivers and the rest of the Lancers, advancing forward to meet what was left head on.

As they advanced a scream erupted from the darkness beyond the facility's gate, echoing from the buildings. The scream was not that of hunger but one of retreat. Beasts turned as they heard the call, some craning their necks to listen closer, and one by one they tried to slip away. Some never had the chance to retreat, bullets cutting them down as they tried to climb over walls or sprint over barriers.

Pyoter's heavy weapon ran out of ammo just as the scream ended, his body still shaking from the rage and the impossible recoil he had battled against to aim the weapon without killing any of his allies. He dropped the weapon on the ground next to the vehicle he had been standing on, its glowing red barrel hissing as it touched the blood soaked ground.

Locke held up a hand and soon the gunfire trailed off. Lancers advancing behind the Titans used their blades to remove the heads from monsters that were not completely dead, or those that looked ready to pounce once everyone's guard was down.

Locke and Rivers reached the gate leading out into the avenue beyond the facility, weapons still shouldered in case there was still something lurking in the shadows.

They stood watching and just listening to the silence for a few moments, but there was nothing to hear or see. The enemy had vanished and the sound of fighting from other parts of the city could be heard again.

Xander joined them at the gate, patting Rivers on his bloody shoulder, making jokes about trying that from the start next time instead of wasting time pussyfooting around with the enemy.

Locke silently agreed with the joke, turning to look at the devastation behind him. All he saw was death, broken bodies scattered everywhere. He watched as Sabian walked through the bloodbath, stopping at every dead Lancer he came across. Sabian was a sentimental old man but he felt every death as a father losing one of his beloved sons.

Locke kept his eyes on Sabian as the old veteran kneeled next to a Lancer lying face down in a pool of his own blood. At least five dead mutants encircled the dead Lancer.

Sabian touched his hand to the dead soldier's head and spoke a few words. "You fought with honour my friend. May your soul find rest where the white fields embrace you," he said softly.

"We will miss all of them," Locke added as he stepped closer to where Sabian was kneeling.

Sabian said nothing to Locke, muttering a prayer under his breath instead.

Rivers was about to say something, but he was interrupted before he could open his mouth. Everyone's eyes looked to the east as a red glow peeked through gaps in buildings and lit up the night.

"The sun is rising," Sabian said softly.

"Our time here is up. We did what we could," Locke replied.

There was nothing more left to say. The element of surprise they had landed with was long gone, and they could not risk fighting two groups of enemies with unknown numbers in broad daylight.

No, their time to make a difference had run out, and Locke felt the sting of disappointment as he realized that they had not done enough. Probably losing more lives than they had saved.

It was time to go, the third objective would have to be abandoned, and there was no hope of reaching it with so many dead and two of the convoy's vehicles disabled.

Locke put in the call to Gunn, ordering them to secure the primary extraction point a few miles away to the west. It was a relatively low populated industrial area that had been chosen for the extraction point, but it would take what was left of the convoy longer to reach it. The civilians they had saved and Lemink's men would ride in the two remaining vehicles, while the Lancers and the Wolves would run next to the convoy, hopefully not encountering too much resistance on the way.

Exhaustion was an ever present factor in war, and it had already taken root in most of them.

To the west Christian and Nathan was about to reach their destination, and there they would find what would become pivotal to everyone's future survival.

# Chapter Seven.One  
Miracles

" _Are the things you witness just coincidence or is it the hand of the divine shaping our destiny? Would you be able to recognize a true moment of pure destiny when it unfolds in front of your very eyes, or would you blink and miss the flash of something greater than yourself? Open your eyes my children and see the strands of time being pulled by our master, witness the birth of life by his heart and the reaping of the wicked by his hand. Fall to your knees and beg for salvation. Surrender yourself into his mercy and he will protect you against the monsters at our door. Feel his embrace shield you from the horrors out there in the darkness. Put your life in his hands and allow your faith to see you through the next few moments! He protects us all!"  
-Battle Chaplain Keyes, Member of the now extinct Confessor's Order, Moments before his position was overwhelmed during the battle for Daisheen's capital, presumed KIA, 2570 - 61 ASD_

Nathan held up a hand to halt their movement, crouching in a doorway's shadow. Christian crouched beside him, scanning the streets leading to their destination. The sun had risen behind the Titan brothers, but its light struggled to pierce the veil of dust and smoke hanging over Santor. A thick fog had mingled with the aftermath of battles fought, blanketing the entire city as soon as the light broke over rooftops of abandoned homes and buildings.

Nathan listened to Locke's message, relaying it to his brother once Locke had stopped speaking. "Time is up; the Maiden is clearing the primary extraction point as we speak. We have to move quickly or we are getting left behind."

"I understand. The beacon is up ahead, on the other side of this junction," Christian replied, pointing at the habitation block looming out of the thick fog.

The building looked completely empty, no light shining from windows and no movement could be seen outside. Its grey walls bearing witness to a recent gunfight between soldiers and beasts, dead bodies from both sides littered the paving and steps in front of the building the beacon was transmitting from.

Whatever happened was over quickly, some soldiers had not even raised their rifles before they had died, their bodies ripped apart as they had taken a moment to eat and drink. Cans of opened food and burned out cigarettes were dropped just as the monsters had appeared between them, their broken canteen's contents mixing with their own congealed blood, lifeless eyes staring at the nothingness beyond their deaths.

Nathan signalled to Christian to stow his shield and rifle, suggesting they enter the building silently with only their blades. They did not want to draw any attention to themselves, and firing their weapons would definitely announce their position to anything that was hungry in the vicinity or inside the building.

Hopefully they could enter and exit without anything noticing them. Any unnecessary fighting or obstacles in their way would just waste time, time they did not have.

Nathan stepped over the dead bodies, making sure to not step on anything that could make any noise, Christian following behind him, stepping in his brother's armoured footsteps.

The scene inside was worse than outside. Bodies had been torn to shreds, and it was clear that the monsters had won the fight. Half eaten parts of what use to be human were discarded at random by whatever had fed its bottomless hunger. Bloody mutated footprints led away from the dead, vanishing in the dark corridor leading deeper into the building.

Christian followed as Nathan led the way, covering all angles as their visor's Dark sight lit up the gloom.

Nathan stopped at an intersection, straight ahead the bloody footprints still went one, to the right there was a utility door leading to what must have been the basement, and to the left a staircase of grey concrete stretched upwards, its construction obstructing any hope of seeing where the staircase led to.

Nathan turned his head to look at Christian, his body language asking his brother where they had to go to next.

Christian used his left hand to indicate up, adding that they needed to go up to level three.

Nathan nodded and took the first steps of the staircase slowly, his helmet raised as he watched if anything moved above them.

Christian was right behind him, grasping his combat blade in his right hand as he watched his brother's back.

Slowly they ascended the stairs, their armoured boots making almost no sound on the concrete steps. Step by step they climbed, sticking to the outer walls of the staircase to give them enough room to see around corners.

Their Dark sight scanned for any movement as they passed the first door leading to the first floor of the habitation block. Its door was wide open and bloody hand prints were smudged on the sides of the door. Someone had tried to close it behind them to stop whatever was stalking the poor soul, but it had been futile and the thing the person had tried to stop had found its way in, doing hell knows what to the fleeing survivor.

Nathan and Christian did not hesitate; they moved further up, passing another door, this one was closed. Beyond, the sound of exposed electricity cables sparking against each other could be heard. Christian risked a glance through the door's tiny window, seeing nothing but shredded cables hanging from broken ceilings, the floor beneath flooded with filthy water. Nothing could have passed through this corridor and survived.

The Titan brothers reached the third level, its door ajar and the corridor beyond in complete darkness. A hint of smoke drifted along the hallway - somewhere something was burning.

Christian used hand signals to tell Nathan that they needed to go down and then make a left, door thirty-seven was their destination.

With every step Christian's anticipation grew, his hope rising as well. He was so close and he needed to reach what he hoped was still an alive Jessica as quickly as possible.

Nathan was the first to round the corner leading to another hallway, freezing in place the instant he saw what was crouched against the very door they wanted to reach.

A small but muscular creature crouched with its nose close to the bottom of door thirty-seven, smelling at something inside. Its back was turned to Nathan, and had not noticed the Titan yet.

Christian stopped as Nathan halted him with a hand again, signalling to get up against the wall. Christian did as his brother ordered, glancing around the corner at the creature Nathan had seen.

The creature itself was no threat, its size was nothing to fear and the Titans could deal with it easily, the problem was the little bastard could alert whatever else was lurking in the shadows of the habitation building, and that would spell disaster for what they were trying to accomplish.

Nathan moved forward, his footsteps making no noise, his armour compensating for the slow movement, dampening the servo noise joining his suit together.

Step by step he took towards the inquisitive creature, its back still turned on the Titans.

Nathan stopped again as the creature raised its head from what it was sniffing, craning its neck into the air, almost as if it had smelt the Titan sneaking up on it.

But the smell emanating from the crack beneath the door was too tempting to ignore and the creature resumed its sniffing, pushing its flat and mucus filled nose right up against the door. It grunted and snorted as it tried to claw at the gap underneath the door.

Moments later Nathan was behind to the creature, and before it could turn or scream Nathan slid his combat blade into the back of its neck. The blade stilled the creature's grunting and silenced it before it could bark or scream for help.

Its limp body slipped from Nathan's combat blade as Christian approached his brother.

Christian's emotions were bubbling over by the time he reached the door, placing his left hand on it to inspect its surface.

"What?" Nathan asked.

Christian turned to his brother. "We should have brought Xander with us," he said jokingly.

Jessica woke up with a shock, her hand gripping a pistol she could not remember owning. Her eyes were still painfully red, blurring her vision as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She felt Tristan shift on her shoulder and slowly reality reasserted itself back into her mind.

She blinked cautiously, looking down at the pistol, finally recognizing the weapon she had been carrying ever since the problems had started. But she could not remember why she had it in her hand, and if she was honest with herself she did not want to know.

Jessica looked at her sister, brushing the dirty girl's hair from her face while checking her breathing. Tristan was weak, but at least her breathing was still normal. She glanced over to where Sam was sleeping, the poor man had fallen asleep exactly where he had fixed the beacon, his head just falling backwards on a filthy pillow.

Sleep had finally caught up with him, and he had not moved since his triumph.

Nash shifted under his table, his head raised slightly as if he was trying to hear something.

Jessica was about to ask, but the loud thumping sound answered her question before she could voice it.

The entire emergency bunker rattled as another even louder noise echoed from outside.

A third and final sound of metal hitting metal breached the bunker's door. The thick steel door buckled and one of its reinforced hinges splintered from the force of the blow.

Nash reached for his old rusty shotgun, arming it with a slow and quiet action.

Jessica could not see the entrance to the bunker; she could only see Nash raise his shotgun to aim it at the door. Sam remained absolutely still, aiming his pistol at the door as well.

A moment went by in complete silence. No-one dared to speak or threaten whatever was trying to get into the bunker. Maybe the creature would leave if it thought that there was nothing worth feasting on inside. Jessica doubted it. The smell of unwashed bodies was bad enough to draw beasts from the next city over.

Nash's eyes widened and the expression on his face changed from caution to something Jessica had not seen on the man's face before. His beard obstructed his broad smile as the old man started chuckling. Sam's pistol dropped slowly and relief was written across his face. He looked at Jessica, his thick glasses filthy with sweat and grime, but the look in his eyes spoke a thousand words.

Armoured hands tore the door from its last hinges and bright lights mounted on armoured shoulders and helmets lit up the dark interior of the bunker.

Jessica's instinct was to raise her own pistol but her strength had left her, and she hoped that Sam's expression meant that something good was about to happen. All of them needed a win.

The lights scanned the room, one set settled on Sam and Jessica could see a large armoured figure crouch down beside the smaller engineer. The figure placed a hand gently on Sam's tired shoulder and shook him like a proud father would congratulate a deserving son.

The second set of lights settled on Nash, but turned away from the old man to the door leading to where Jessica and Tristan rested against the pantry wall.

The second figure appeared in the door, its armour was dirty and scarred from battle, but it still filled the doorway with its stature and heroic presence.

Christian's head tilted, shutting off the bright lights before he blinded the two people he had been hoping to see. He crouched down in front of the sisters, words escaping him.

Jessica raised a hand to shield herself from the lights as the armoured man crouched in front of her and Tristan.

At first she did not realize who the man was, but slowly it started dawning on her. The Operator number on the man's chest caught her eye instantly. QC0021-13 was written in silver letters, still gleaming even in the low light of the bunker's pantry.

The code triggered many memories in Jessica's mind, and she reached up to touch the code, feeling the silver letters and numbers with her fingers.

"Christian?" she said, sounding almost reserved as if she was afraid that the answer would be disappointing.

"Jess..." Christian said. His voice was filled with relief.

Before he could say more Jessica hugged Christian with all of her strength and if she was any stronger she would have cracked the Anctinium plating.

Christian hugged the woman he loved back, careful not to hurt her. He grasped Tristan with his right hand, squeezing her arm softly. "Are you ok little one?" he asked Tristan.

Tristan smiled widely, nodding at Christian. She reached for him as well, and together with her sister hugged the Titan with all of the joy they possessed.

The miracle they had been hoping for had shown up.

"We have to move. Company will be showing up soon," Nathan said from behind Christian.

Nathan was helping Nash up and brushing the dust off Sam. All Titans had great respect for Sam. None of them would be able to do the things they did without Sam and his work with their armoured suits. To all Titans Sam was the real hero behind their great feats of strength and courage.

"Can you stand?" Christian asked Jessica.

"Yes, but I don't think Tristan can," Jessica replied.

"I will carry her." Christian released the sisters and looked at Tristan. "If that is ok with you, little one?"

"As long as you don't drop me," Tristan replied with a smile on her face.

Christian grinned inside his visor. He picked up Tristan with one arm and helped Jessica up with the other. "Ready," he said, turning to face Nathan.

"Alright, we move fast and quietly. There will be no breaks, we can't carry all of you so you have to keep up," Nathan said to everyone present.

Nathan would lead the way, Sam and Nash behind him and then Jessica. Christian would bring up the rear while carrying Tristan.

It took them only a few seconds to quietly move down the corridor and back to the staircase the Titan brothers had ascended to reach the third floor.

Hopefully nothing was waiting for them at the bottom of the dark staircase.

The Hyperion burst back into normal space to a different scene than the one it had left behind.

Many vessels had answered the Hyperion's call for help, and all of them were doing their best to rescue whoever was still alive on the surface of New Horizon.

Gray knew some of the vessels by their names and reputations, others he had never seen or heard of before.

Like a net the vessels had spread out around the orbit of New Horizon, dropping life boats and shuttles down to the dying planet's surface.

The Hyperion approached the orbital space above Santor, slowly edging towards its previous drop point. Gray did not want to make any of the vessels nervous, and make an already dire situation worse. Misunderstandings in situations like this could cause nervous trigger fingers to itch and blow a hole in the wrong hull.

A smaller science vessel turned as the Hyperion approached its position, scanning the new arrival with its advanced systems.

"Hyperion...state your intentions," a woman's voice with complete calm demanded.

"Rescue," Gray replied.

"Hail Hyperion," the woman said, "you are most welcome. Proceed."

"What are your intentions?" Gray asked. He could not risk trusting strangers so easily, not after what had transpired.

The voice that answered belonged to a different person, a woman spoke that sounded as if she constantly had honey in her throat. Her voice soothed Gray's ears the moment he heard it, and he tried everything he could not to show himself blushing in front of Remy. "I am Captain Amanda Volk, pilot and commanding officer of the Immortal Terran, lead science vessel in charge of the fifth expedition to the dead zones. We heard the call to come to New Horizon's aid, and our entire flotilla answered."

"Then you have the Hyperion's thanks, we thought our words would fall on deaf ears." Gray said.

There was silence for a few moments. "It is true then? That we have been betrayed from within?"

Gray sighed, the weight of the meaning behind what he was about to say heavy on his shoulders. "We have, and the traitors are far from done, this was only the first piece in a larger plan. All of us will do well to make haste and leave this place before the wretch returns with his fleet."

"How long do we have?" Captain Volk asked.

"Minutes, if that," Gray replied flatly.

Volk did not close the channel as she ordered her crew to spread the word that hell was heading their way.

The news spread through the vessels orbiting New Horizon, a few turning almost immediately to make for open space far away from the dying planet.

Gray did not blame those ship's captains and their decision to run, most of them were civilian transports and had almost nothing to protect them against the magnitude of firepower heading for New Horizon.

The Hyperion drifted into position next to the Immortal Terran, the cruiser dwarfing the science vessel in its shadow. The Immortal Terran did not move, and Gray saw more life boats drop from its belly, falling towards the surface below.

"Aren't you leaving, Captain?" Gray asked the woman with the soothing voice.

"Never, our ships are staying until there is nothing left to save," Captain Volk answered.

"We are honoured to make this stand by your side Captain Volk. Together we might just survive the next few hours." Gray was choked up, the heroism of humankind never ceased to amaze him.

"As are we, our sister ships are moving into position to blockade the open space behind us. Their guns will grant us a little time to finish collecting the souls trapped below."

"Then we should not waste time any longer, good luck to you Captain, see you on the other side."

Captain Volk agreed and cut the link to the Hyperion, calmly ordering her crew and pilots to launch whatever they had left for one final pickup.

Gray tilted his head to Remy who had stood up from her safety chair behind him. She placed her delicate hand on the old man's shoulder and squeezed with enough force to fill Gray with what little courage he had left. "Bring them all back my dear. No-one gets left behind," he said as he looked into Remy's tired eyes.

Remy nodded and was already ordering the communication officers to make contact with the Maiden of Flame and her flight support when the first of Lord Vincent's fleet arrived.

At first only a few scout escorts arrived, but as the minutes went by larger vessels appeared behind the, carrying more firepower than the defenders of New Horizon could ever hope to muster. Within a handful of minutes twenty-nine traitor vessels were bearing down on the blockade protecting New Horizon.

Soon everyone that still believed in the salvation and protection of humankind would be fighting for their very lives, and soon many of them would perish as they stood against a tide of evil, never breaking, buying others vital time to protect our race's bleak future.

The primary extraction point was relatively clear by the time the remnants of the convoy had reached it. Only a few stragglers had scurried about, but were all soon nothing but bloody stains on the cement courtyard in the middle of the industrial complex Locke and Sabian had chosen.

Gunn and her sister ships had circled the extraction point, strafing everything that moved with their heavy weapons mounted under their short, stocky wings.

Fighter squadrons were still battling the traitors in the skies above Santor, fighting through the night into early morning without respite. Twenty-one Crescent fighters had dropped with the ground forces, and now only nine remained in the air.

The rising sun had dawned on ten fighters utterly destroyed and two pilot-ejects before their fighters could consume them with flame. All of the pilots were considered KIA. Their deaths had been a high price to pay, but together they had destroyed fifty-five enemy fighters. It was a number almost unheard of in aerial warfare history and a number that would cement the squadrons in legend forever. The remaining fighters from the Flying Tigers, squadrons Alpha, Bravo and Delta, had banded together after so many loses and were punishing the enemy as one single swarm of metal fury. Their silhouettes could be seen against the rising sun as they circled beyond the perimeter of the drop ships, darting in and out of formation, keeping the skies clear for the Maiden and her support to pick up the battered ground forces.

The convoy came to a shaky halt in the chosen courtyard. Soldiers that were still able to fire their weapons took positions wherever there was cover to be found.

Heavy weapons were hastily mounted on broken walls and piles of rubble that used to be walls, covering as many entries into the courtyard as humanly possible.

Sabian was with his men, speaking to them as he walked among them, shouldering his personal marksman rifle.

Locke finished contacting his wayward second in command before he moved to speak to his Wolves, all three of them stood nearby speaking in hushed tones. "What's the problem sergeant?" Locke asked Rivers as he joined his Wolves in the shadow of what used to be a cement smoke stack.

"This business with Nathan and the rookie is not sitting well with us. We can't leave them behind," Rivers said.

"I will not leave them. They are my brothers," Pyoter added.

Xander nodded in agreement, "I don't know the rookie that well yet, but he is a Wolf, and that means we stick together. You know that better than any of us, Captain."

"They chose to risk their lives to pursue another target. If they are not back by the time everyone is ready to leave they will be left here. My mandate does not allow me to risk the lives of the people under our charge because of personal reasons."

Locke's words had a visible effect on his squad. They had to reluctantly agree with what he said. Their job was to keep the people safe, not risk their lives unnecessarily. The Wolves were soldiers first and foremost, and their orders were clear, even if the situation changed around them.

"Besides," Locke continued, "they are less than a mile from here, and they should make it." Locke smiled as he finished speaking. He loved to see his squad band together, even if it was to countermand his own orders.

"You are a sick man," Xander said, shaking his head in disbelief.

The Wolves shared a final chuckle together before the enemy would be upon them again. The activity in the air above the extraction point would draw in anything and everything unfriendly in the area around the industrial zones.

A drop was always a complicated manoeuvre, especially when it came to extraction. The easy part was dodging ground and air attacks to get your cargo down, and then things just went to shit from there. Somehow pilots had to stick around until extraction after drop-off, flying around mindlessly to support the ground forces and at the same time keeping their own asses in the air. If that wasn't enough, pilots were then expected to clear pickup and extraction points alone, and then circle until the ground forces were ready to leave. And the cherry on top of that crap cake that was an extraction, was all of the hustle and bustle alerting even more enemies to their position and intentions.

It almost never went to plan, and everyone was already tired and tense from previous battles. Everyone on the ground and in the air was already expecting something to go wrong, and it was only a matter of time before it did.

Once the civilians and injured were ready to be extracted the first drop ship would dart down and be loaded as quickly as possible. One by one the drop ships would dive and land to pick up everyone they could, the last drop ship always taking the most damage from whatever was encircling the ground forces.

Until then, the soldiers on the ground would have to hold of anything that approached them with hostile intent, and Gunn could already see the enemy approaching from the south.

Gunn mumbled something about she might as well have a target painted on her backside before she opened a channel to Locke and Sabian. Jinx did not dare to laugh when Gunn was in one of her moods, and he valued his life more than making fun of her grumpiness.

"Enemies are approaching from the south Captain Locke. We are pulling back in case they have anti air weapons. We count a shit load of troops and at least two anti-personnel vehicles. We will support you as much as we can, but we can't risk being shot down. Gunn out." Gunn cut the link after both Locke and Sabian acknowledged her assessment, pulling back on the Maiden's flight stick, bringing the drop ship into a high loop away from the approaching enemies.

"What's coming?" Lemink asked. He was crouched beside Locke, his rifle peaking over a low wall facing the south side of the courtyard.

"Hell, but this time they aren't the biting kind. Keep your head down and keep firing," Locke said to Lemink. He switched his helmet speakers to full volume. "All of you! Keep firing and hold your positions! Concentrate your fire on the troops. The Wolves will take care of the heavies. Whatever you do, don't die! They don't accept hero's names in the books of legends if you shit yourself! Give them hell brothers!" Locke finished with a raised fist, cementing his resolve to his squad and the soldiers around them.

"Good speech," Xander said sarcastically.

The soldiers and Wolves roared with renewed fervour as the traitors drew ever closer. Hands tightened against rifle grips and sweat poured down nervous foreheads. But their courage would have to hold until the end, if it did not then everything they had fought for in Santor would be for nothing.

# Chapter Seven.Two  
Passing

" _Death, the shadow that hunts us around every corner, the eventuality at the end of the road, we have seen its face. Do not ask when you will succumb to destruction's embrace, for no-one can tell you your future. Instead, ask what you should do before you are taken by the Reaper's skeletal grasp. What reason do you have to show fear now? Do you distrust your own abilities? Or do lack the faith to see your journey to its end? Know this, if you falter before your name echoes in the realm beyond, then you will vanish from all existence, falling forever through the nothingness on the edges of forgotten realities. Make your mark soldier, make them remember your name, and make them all regret ever meeting you on the battlefield. Death must be your constant companion, accept its gift and harvest in its honour!"  
\- Lord Wilhelm Alyn, Lord and Commander of the first expedition into the dead zones, lost during a catastrophic jump drive failure, no trace of his ship was ever found, 2521 - 12 ASD_

They were pinned down behind a bullet ridden wall, Christian still clutching Tristan in his arms, using his free hand to fire his pistol blindly over the wall at the enemy.

Nathan's armoured form crouched with his back to his brother, reloading his rifle, pouring fire at the black armoured soldiers pinning them down.

Jessica, Nash and Sam had their backs to the wall they were all taking cover behind. Jessica helped Christian reload his pistol as the Titan fired to keep heads down. Sam held his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the sound of unending gunfire around him, humming a tune he knew well to help calm his nerves. The poor engineer was not used to this kind of violence, and never thought he would be in the middle of an actual fire fight. Sam was glad he had not pissed himself out of fear, and was even more proud that his bowels remained silent throughout the dire situation.

Nash on the other hand was relishing the fight, smiling to himself as he reloaded his rusty old shotgun with shells he kept in his dirty trousers. His shotgun roared four fearful shots at the enemy, missing everything Nash aimed at, but it kept the traitorous bastards from charging their rapidly deteriorating position.

The two Titans and four companions were forced to take cover in a raw metal wholesaler's shop front on the south-western edge of the complex surrounding the extraction zone. Enemies wielding shiny new rifles had tried to flank Locke and everyone else in the courtyard from the west, but they had run directly into the Titan brothers who were trying to sneak past the advancing enemy lines.

Black armoured soldiers had spotted the Titans scrambling over rubble, crossing their line of sight as they advanced to encircle the Wolves and Lancers protecting the extraction site.

Close to fifty rifles had opened fire on the Titans and their companions, luckily hitting nothing but stone and concrete around them. The black armoured traitors were terrible shots, and Nathan was going to expose their weakness soon - he was just waiting for the right time.

One soldier fired a larger calibre rifle from a wall directly overlooking the building the Titans and their companions were pinned down in. It was a standard issue anti-infantry machine gun, its firing mechanism fed by a giant belt of torso pulping ammunition. Two other soldiers were helping the heavy machine gunner, one keeping debris from feeding into the weapon as it ate through its ammunition, the other carried boxes with more belts for the weapon, opening one as the weapons current belt was about to run out.

Nathan listened to the sound the weapon made, hearing it above the rest of the gunfire around it. Its distinctive whine and screech as the fired as all too familiar in a situation like this. Nathan had noticed that the soldiers had to be new recruits, their experience with their weapons and their terrible aim proof of their lack of training. It was only a matter of time before they would create opportunities for their enemy to expose, and one of those opportunities was about to present itself.

Christian saw Nathan unclip the launchers from his back and took that as the signal to get ready. He handed Tristan over to Jessica, safely setting the girl down in her sister's arms. Christian brushed the back of his armoured hand against Jessica's dirty cheek. "Whatever happens, stay down. That goes for you two as well," Christian said, his helmet turning to look at Nash and Sam in turn.

Jessica, Nash and Sam nodded, Tristan half smiled at Christian's words and held on tighter to her sister. The poor girl was probably hungry, tired and scared beyond anything Christian could imagine.

Christian placed a hand on Tristan's shoulder, squeezing it softly. "Don't you worry little one. It will be over before you know it," he said, his voice sounding mechanical through his helmet speakers. But the warmth of his words could still be felt.

Tristan's smile broadened slightly and pressed her head tightly against her sister's chest.

"When it happens, Christian, you lead with your shield, I will be right behind you," Nathan said.

"Understood," Christian replied. He unclipped his shield with is free hand, firing a few more shots from his pistol at the enemy.

Nathan's voice changed as he spoke again, a moment of sentiment shining through his diamond hard exterior. "Do you remember the stories mother told us about the Last Stand of Koralis?" he asked.

"I remember. A handful stood against insurmountable evil, giving their people the time to escape to safety," Christian replied.

"Exactly, let's make these bastards scream," Nathan said, the anger in his voice already starting to bubble over.

Christian did not need to reply. He knew exactly what his brother meant. It was time to release the bonds and let the Wolf, the Titan spirit, free.

The high calibre machine gun clicked empty, its barrel and receiver glowed red hot from the non-stop firing. The other soldiers around the machine gun increased their weight of fire, blanketing the building with lead. The soldier with the boxes of ammunition helped the gunner to slide in a new belt, struggling to get the new belt into position. The inexperienced soldiers were unaware of the fact that they had warped the firing receiver and barrel of the heavy weapon from continues fire.

"Now!" Nathan yelled. He rose with both of his launchers aimed at the heavy weapon's position, one launcher in each armoured hand. A thump thump announced the launcher's part in the fight, hurtling two explosive rounds at high speed towards the weapon and its crew.

They never even got a chance to avoid what was about to happen; their deaths pre-determined when Nathan had fired his weapons. The two explosive rounds struck home, the weapon and all of its ammunition exploding into a ball of fire and shrapnel.

Christian vaulted over the crumbling wall just as the heavy weapon went up in flames. Soldiers in close proximity to its position died as they were mowed down by shrapnel and boxed ammunition ignited by the fireball engulfing the anti-infantry weapon.

Fire ricocheted from Christian's shield, but it did not halt his advance. Behind him Nathan had jumped over the wall as well and was already reloading his launchers as both of them ran towards the traitors.

Christian fired his own Kicker one handed from behind his shield, peppering two soldiers who were crouching behind a make-shift barrier. Both of them died instantly. Another died as Christian battered him with his shield, crushing his ribcage and sending the poor soldier flying.

Nathan fired his launchers again and eight more traitors died. He dropped his launchers as he ran closer to a group of soldiers hiding behind a broken wall. These soldiers had taken cover when their own weapon had exploded and had taken their eyes off the enemy's position. Nathan chose to fight with his fists in such close quarters, and he made every swing of his armoured fist count. Nathan jumped over the rubble and landed in the midst of five soldiers still reeling from the explosion. His first punch broke the neck of the closest soldier, his back swing cracking another soldier's armour, his life ending almost instantly. One of the soldiers tried to raise his rifle to fire at Nathan but his body was torn up by bullets hitting him from behind. The other two soldiers died where they stood, one by Christian's Kicker the other by Nathan's armoured elbow crushing his throat.

The Titans did not stop. Christian turned and fired the last of his rifle's ammunition into a soldier who had charged the Titan with his own combat blade. Nathan moved fast and pounced on two more unsuspecting soldiers, who only saw a shadow move in the smoke and dust before they died.

Christian used his shield to bash a soldier to the ground, kicking another into the fire as the soldier tried turn and run away. He died like a coward.

The remaining soldiers sensed they had mere moments left to live if they stayed in their positions, choosing instead to flee from the killers in the smoke and dust.

Nathan grabbed a soldier trying to run away, twisting and smashing the limp body to the hard concrete. Another soldier's last breath escaped his body as Christian threw his shield at the poor man. The shield hit with such force it liquefied organs and shattered bones.

Almost fifty soldiers had pinned them down, but when the wind blew the dust and smoke away five minutes after Nathan and Christian had charged out, forty-five were dead or dying and only three had escaped. More than twenty had died from the heavy weapon's explosion and the rest at the hands of the Titans.

Christian and Nathan stood, the fire lighting their armour in the morning light. They breathed heavy, but their blood was alive with battle energy.

But there was no time to celebrate their small victory, they had to keep moving. By now the enemy would already be assaulting the extraction point and its defenders, and all of the Wolves would be needed before the battle could be won.

"Sounds like Bear is having fun without us," Pyoter said,

"I wouldn't get jealous just yet. Our traitorous friends are almost here," Rivers replied. "And by the sound of it, it sounds like there are more than enough to keep us busy for a while."

"Whatever you do, hold your ground. If we falter all is lost," Locke interjected. Locke allowed the banter between his squad to a certain degree, it helped with morale. But it was time to get serious and his Wolves needed to focus. "Xander?"

"Sir?" Xander answered.

"Hit the heavies with everything you have. We can't give them the opportunity to fire on the central courtyard. Take some Lancers with you and flank them from the rooftops," Locke ordered.

Xander acknowledged with a nod and immediately set off with a few Lancers for the staircases on the outside of the western complex.

"Sergeant, take position with Sabian and provide support for him and his Lancer marksmen." Locke did not wait for a reply. He started walking towards the front line of the defences. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rivers collect Roger from the pavement where he had been tinkering on the robot, and then saw him move off to where Sabian and his snipers were crouched.

"I will stay here," Pyoter said. The giant Titan was near the front line as well, standing dead still behind an abandoned freighter truck. The truck had been tipped over and the large metal container on its back was providing ample cover for Pyoter and some Lancers hiding behind it. Pyoter had borrowed the breaching cannon from one of the remaining troop carriers. A long-barrelled cannon capable of flattening walls, mounted on the front armour of all troop carriers. These cannons were not meant to be used against infantry, but they packed more than enough punch to pulp anything in its path. It fired rounds filled with molten lead through stone and metal, perforating its target to allow the troop carrier to drive through without any hindrance. One could only imagine what it would do if it was fired in the direction of human flesh.

Locke nodded as he passed Pyoter. "Corporal Jay?" he asked over the radio.

"Yes, captain?" Jay replied.

"Cover the civilians and take out anything trying to flank us. Call out as you see targets we are blind to."

"Acknowledged, sir. Just don't forget about me when the time comes to leave," Jay said, his voice was slightly paranoid that he, and the Lancers with him, would be left behind if the extraction went to shit.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Rivers interrupted, "I won't ever leave Godwaker behind. That rifle is like a son to me."

"I know," Jay replied, "you keep reminding me about it."

Locke let them finish and then spoke. "We will pick you up before we leave. Just keep your eyes open."

"Thank you, sir. I will watch over you." Jay did not say any more. The radio went silent and the scout Titan shifted into a better position to watch over the civilians the Wolves and Lancers were protecting. Jay spoke a few words with the Lancers that were still acting as his guard, encouraging them with words from speeches he had heard as a new recruit. He assured them that the time to leave was near, and they only had to survive a little longer. Whatever Jay said, it had worked, and the spirits of the Lancers with him on the rooftop lifted visibly, some even smiling as they watched the skies and empty stairwells leading down into the darkness of the tall building below them.

A few moments passed and all that could be heard was the footsteps and the growling engines of the enemy moving closer. Soon the traitors would be advancing through the buildings to the south.

Locke could do nothing more to inspire the soldiers around him. His words earlier had done enough to fill their hearts with courage, and he hoped it would be enough. He had reached the edge of the defensive line, and had decided that it would be the place where he would fight. It was a small level piece of ground directly in front of the south building, with only one door and a few windows overlooking the area he had chosen. Whatever decided to come through those windows or door would face Locke head on, something very few people ever lived through.

The cocktail of drugs pumping through Locke's system made his muscles strain against the inside of his armour. The adrenaline and synthetic compounds the Nano machines were feeding him fuelled his rage even more. He was shifting position constantly, moving his weight from one armoured boot to the other, hands tightening on the grip of his rifle.

His choice to fight in full view of the soldiers behind him was not for fame or heroic tales. No, he was doing it to show them that the invincible Wolves were there beside them, shielding them and taking the brunt of the attack for them.

Locke just hoped he would survive long enough to see the civilians and the others get rescued. It was his only objective now, and he would see it through until the end.

An allied vessel named the Brother's Bond was the first to perish in defence of New Horizon. It sacrificed itself to protect the rest of the vessels forming part of the blockade, dying an honourable death worthy of its name written in the legends of humankind.

Its captain had seen the danger heading for the blockade before anyone else, and had moved to intercept what would have surely been a devastating blow to the defenders.

Three Bowbreaker class ships had raced ahead of the traitor's ever growing number, hurtling directly for the grand cruiser in the centre of the blockade's lines. Bowbreakers were dangerous vessels used specifically to charge ahead and cripple the most dangerous vessels among the enemy's number. Thick armour protected the Bowbreaker's prow and sides, armour thick enough to deflect fusion lances and absorb ship to ship ordinance with ease. These ship breakers would chew through other vessels in its path, their large engines providing them with enough power to tear through hulls like a rock tearing through wet paper.

One Bowbreaker was already a deadly opponent, three, however, was a nightmare. But Captain Kohl never hesitated in the face of such horrible odds. His vessel was an underequipped science vessel, used primarily to scan and survey planetoids for the expedition fleet. The Brother's Bond had almost no offensive weapons to speak of, armed with nothing but surveyor equipment and a few gun batteries that were more of an afterthought than anything else. Yet, knowing that his vessels was no match against the Bowbreakers, still Captain Kohl powered towards the three ships, burning his vessel's engine at dangerous levels.

The Bowbreakers saw the Brother's Bond coming, and the arrogance of the captains on board the traitor vessels took the bait without hesitation. They would mangle the vessel as a show of power before wreaking havoc on the rest of the futile blockade. But such a delicious and enticing target was too good to be true, and as history has taught the survivors of warfare, nothing is ever what it seems.

Captain Kohl had bargained on the Bowbreakers relishing the idea of destroying his vessel, but little did the traitors know that Kohl had a big surprise in store for them. Unbeknownst to anyone outside of the commanders and officers of the expedition fleet, the Brother's Bond held a secret in its cargo hold. A secret that was in its final test phase, a secret - as luck would have it - that was on-board Captain Kohl's very vessel when the call for aid had been heard by the expedition fleet.

Deep within the cargo holds of the Brother's Bond rested an experimental weapon, designed and created to use against the Beast. It was a strange creation, born from a mind thinking so far out of the box that most would think it insane just to dream of such things. There was no official name for it, only a designator used to hide its existence from the eyes of people without high enough security clearance. Scientists and engineers called it The Device, others referred to it as Project Black. Whatever its name was or would have been it must have been serendipity that had seen it placed in the cargo hold of the Brother's Bond. The Device was capable of generating an anti-matter field, using technology most did not know existed. The anti-matter field would suck in all matter within its range, and then release all of that accumulated energy in one devastating blast.

Captain Kohl did not ask the commanders of the fleet for permission to use The Device before he had made up his mind to intercept the Bowbreakers. No, the vessel was his and everything on-board was his to do with as he saw fit in the defence of New Horizon. His crew had supported his decision the moment he had told the two-hundred and fifteen souls on-board the Brother's Bond what his course of action would be. All of them had surrendered to their fates and proudly manned their stations one final time.

The lead Bowbreaker bore down on the Brother's Bond with all of its raw power, aiming to hit it head on, intent on tearing through the smaller vessel from bow to stern. Captain Kohl accepted the invitation and manoeuvred his vessel to face the lead traitor vessel head on. In the background while he commanded his ship, engineers had readied The Device for its swan song.

No-one would ever know what Captain Kohl's final words were in those last moments, but everyone would remember the destruction his daring move had caused.

Moments before the Bowbreakers dissected its prey a bright light erupted from the Brother's Bond bowels. One moment four vessels were bearing down on one another, the next moment the bright flash of light had heralded the end of all four ships. The Device had generate a field large enough to suck in the Brother's Bond and two of the Bowbreakers, leaving the fourth vessel drifting towards the controlled black hole. No amount of power could save the drifting vessel, and as the anti-matter field fed on the energy around it, others watched in awe as the other three ships were torn apart on a molecular level. Little by little the ships disappeared from reality and our known existence, vanishing into nothingness as The Device gorged itself on everything nearby. It was so powerful that it even sucked in a few light-weight bombers and fighters trailing in the wake of the Bowbreakers.

The artificial black hole suddenly stopped gathering energy. Everything not pulled apart by its sheer power drifted helplessly, waiting for the monster to release all of its gathered energy in the silence of the void. Lightning arced from its heart, and seconds later a blue light engulfed what was left of the ships around it. The explosion tore apart everything it its path, creeping slowly towards other vessels nearby as it reached for more targets. Vessels on both sides were rocked and thrown off course as the explosion hit both lines. Luckily the defenders had known what Kohl had planned and had prepared for The Device's detonation. A few ships suffered nothing but cosmetic damage, while others had to reboot and fix systems shorted out by the anti-matter field explosion.

The traitors on the other hand were not so lucky. Not only did the Bowbreakers perish, but the explosion had crippled two larger vessels heading for the blockade as well. Hundreds of bombers and fighters were lost in the aftermath, and with one single blow Captain Kohl and his crew had shifted the balance enough to give every defender hope in their own survival.

Now the real fight would begin, and once the vessels were in range of each other, the death toll would rise and only the most hardened of captains would live to see another day.

A Lancer by the name of Siddle drew first blood against the enemy. The man had the foresight to bring an anti-vehicle launcher with him when he had followed Xander to the roof of the complex surrounding the extraction point. Xander had led them to the outer corner of the square buildings overlooking the advancing troops from the south. Corporal Siddle was an older man, stuck in his rank for many years due to his extreme insubordination and reckless actions during operations. His wrinkled face was hidden behind his Lancer helmet, so Xander could not see the man's face when the Lancer had made the rash decision to fire the first shot.

Whatever reason motivated Siddle in acting without orders was later confirmed to be the correct one, even though Siddle did not live to see the rest of the battle unfold.

Siddle had followed the heroic Titan, keeping low and moving fast as the armoured man had ordered. But the Lancer's rebellious soul had begun to itch underneath is old skin, and soon he was sneaking looks down at the enemy over the edge of the building. Little by little he formed a picture in his mind of what the situation looked like, assessing it and making the selfish choice to attack without the Titan's go ahead.

Siddle had stopped mid stride, unclipping the launcher from his back and shouldering the heavy weapon before anyone had even noticed that the older Lancer had stopped moving. Xander was too late to order the Lancer to stop what he was doing and get down. He was about to scream at the man but the launcher's throaty boom killed the words on his lips before he could utter them in warning.

The tank-killer round flew with a mind of its own towards the leading enemy vehicle, hitting it in its flank between giant, armoured wheel arches and protected crew compartment. Armour tried to soak up the round's extreme force, but it was futile. An explosion consumed the troops walking alongside the vehicle and the crew inside the armoured behemoth.

One shot from the Lancer had crippled one deadly enemy and killed at least a squad of enemy troops.

But it came at a price, and the rest of Xander's group had no time to congratulate Siddle on his reckless shot. Siddle saw his end turn and lift its man-killing barrel in his direction. The old Lancer did not move as the second vehicle sighted and fired at its target.

"Oh shit..." was all Siddle uttered before the section of building he was standing on vanished in an explosive cloud of hot flame and debris, vaporizing his body instantly.

The Lancer had given away their position on the roof, and Xander already knew that they had lost the element of surprise. Luckily the surviving vehicle had not seen the precise position of everyone in Xander's group, but it had the general idea of what they were planning to do.

More man-killing rounds hit the building's roof, blanketing it with fire, expecting to kill the unknown number on-top of the south facing building.

Another Lancer died as the roof underneath him disappeared, taking the poor man down with it, crushing his body in a shower of stone and concrete. Xander blindly tossed a few of his more deadly devices over the edge of the building hoping to kill as many as he could, but it did not have the desired effect. Enough of the traitors had already entered the complex, and were ready to rush the defenders in the courtyard.

"They are inside! Be ready Captain!" Xander yelled over the squad radio, his voice strained as he dodged the incoming fire from the man-killer firing on his group.

Xander side-stepped a piece of roof crumbling in front of him and dived for an opening the explosions had created. The hole led to the top levels of the building, top levels that were already being filled by enemy troops taking position overlooking the courtyard.

The Lancers followed the Titan through the gap in the roof, diving inside one by one, all of them preparing for close quarters fighting with the enemy.

None of them were masters of up close and personal combat, but at least there would be a Titan leading the way. Xander was a one on one kind of fighter, but there would definitely be more than one opponent in his way, and the Lancers behind depended on him carving his way through the traitors and leading them to safety.

The odds were not great, but Xander pushed forward without hesitation, running at almost full sprint when the first black-armoured traitor stepped out of a doorway leading to a staircase. Xander did not break his stride, unholstering his pistol mid sprint and putting a single bullet through the man's forehead.

During Locke's military career he had seen many horrible and beautiful things. He had seen worlds die and burn at the hands of rebels or the nightmarish Beast. He had witnessed the greatness of humankind when staring death in the face, and unfortunately, he had also been present when the strength of humankind had faltered, seeing what truly lies inside the human soul. He remembered them all vividly, but one memory in particular always stood out above the rest. Whenever he closed his eyes and searched his mind for it, it would always be there on the surface, always within easy reach of his grasping mind. That memory stuck in his head as he prepared to fight.

Many years ago, before Locke had volunteered to be one of the very first Titans, he was a sergeant in command of a squad of rookies, sent on a routine mission to keep the population of an ice world called Almera from rebelling against the rest of the P-SEP controlled sector. His squad had been patrolling the ice fields near Almera's capital city when their local guide had pointed out something that was both haunting and beautiful at the same time. A pack of Fenwolves, named after the monstrous wolves that had stalked ancient Earth centuries ago, moved silently over the ice fields against the approaching ice storm. The pack was out hunting, sniffing the air for nearby prey, their ice white fur blowing in the cold wind. One wolf, larger than the rest, raised its head and had looked directly at Locke, its blue unnatural eyes piercing his very soul as man and wild beast stared at each other. Locke knew that it was the Alpha Wolf the moment their eyes had met. The local guide that was attached to Locke's squad had explained to the then sergeant how the Fenwolves had to hunt, without rest or any respite, forced to stalk the ice and snow until they died from hunger or succumbed to old age. The guide had called the Fenwolves' future a grim one, and that most of them would be dead or dying by the end of the decade if things on Almera did not change for the better. Food in the wilderness of Almera was almost completely wiped out by the end of the rebellion.

Soon after their mission was complete on Almera Locke and his squad had been ordered to a different sector, and he never heard if the Fenwolves had surrendered to their grim fate. It always bothered him whenever he thought on that moment of pure beauty, the sadness in the eyes of the alpha wolf's stare.

When asked what he wanted to name his Titan squad Locke did not hesitate, he named them in honour of the great wolves of Almera, and their struggle for survival on an unforgiving world. He named them the Grim Wolves, and led them on hunts of their own, but instead of fighting to stay alive, Locke and his Grim Wolves fought for something far greater, they fought for humankind's survival.

Locke could almost feel the cold wind against his skin as he waited for the enemy to finally show their faces. Explosions above the Titan captain and Xander's words cleared his reminiscing mind, focusing his anger once more as his suit's advanced systems picked up the sound of boots running on cement floors. He knew the treacherous bastards were close, and their close proximity fuelled him even more. Locke was going to show each and every one of them that dared to get in his way exactly how a Grim Wolf could hunt.

A gunshot, like the shot fired before athletes set off, started what would be a battle to remember - if anyone survived it.

The windows on ground level and above filled up with enemy rifles, all of them aimed at the defenders inside of the courtyard. To Locke's surprise the enemy soldiers dared to rush through the door in front of him, no doubt they thought they were being brave, but they would soon learn the error of their ways.

Five soldiers dropped to their knees and opened fire on Locke and the Lancers hiding in sight of the door. A few more traitors moved as they fired, taking cover behind low walls just outside of the doorway. The enemy was not going to sit back and wait for the defenders to die, no they were going to try and blitz them, shock them with sheer weight of numbers and then steamroll over whatever was left. It was typical of the commanders under Lord Vincent's command. Throw enough bodies into the grinder and hope it gets choked up before the battle is lost.

That tactic was arrogant and selfish, but Locke did not mind it this time. No, he preferred to have as many enemies rushing at him as possible, only then could he fight at his full potential.

Locke took the first few shots, standing still and facing the enemies as they fired their pristine weapons at him and the men and women he was fighting to protect. The bullets could not penetrate his Titan suit, bullets ricocheting from his chest and arms as he remained unmoving. He clipped his rifle to his back and lowered his head as if in silent prayer.

There was no prayer, he moved forward suddenly, his speed bordering on the supernatural. To Gabriel Locke everything happened in slow motion, seeing every movement before it happened, stepping exactly where he needed to be to follow up his blows, dodging hits and counterattacking. To everyone else he was a blur, his Titan suit and the years of becoming one with it transforming him into a whirlwind of death and slaughter.

Locke shouldered a soldier, grabbing another's head with his right hand. The one he had shouldered flew into the wall beside the door, his body cracking as it hit the stone, his life vanishing from his broken body before it hit the ground. Locke slammed the other soldier's head into the ground as he slid forward from the momentum, tossing the dead soldiers body at one of his comrades nearby. The slide carried him into the midst of three more traitors that had stepped into Locke's killing ground. The first died with an uppercut, breaking the man's jaw and neck. The second soldier died from a kick to the chest he never saw coming, he only saw the flash of the Titan's mirrored visor for a moment before his life ended. The third received an elbow to the side of the head. He never knew the Titan Captain was next to him, feeling only the wind of movement on his exposed cheek before he perished, his head caved in from the force of Locke's blow.

One by one the enemy died without much resistance. Another took a punch to the stomach, his organs bursting inside his body. More died with every blow Locke landed, shattering bones and liquefying vital organs. One soldier saw Locke coming for him, the Titan taking a moment to move normally to instil fear into the hearts of the enemy. He would do that after every few kills, halting and purposefully moving slower so the enemy could see and know what was hunting them. Locke grabbed the man by an arm and swung him over his head like a ragdoll, slamming him on-top of another soldier, both of them dying in a heap of splintered bones and leaking flesh.

Locke heard a gargle from the ground below. He looked down as he blocked a rifle shot fired at him, seeing a soldier reaching for him as the blood poured from his open mouth. Locke did not hesitate, lifting his leg and ending the man's suffering with a firm stomp. He did not particularly like the idea of killing humans, but there was no other choice, he had to kill to protect.

Fury and rage burned within the Grim Wolves' captain, and it forced him ever forward, killing as he went, battering the enemy with his armoured limbs, crushing any hope those soldiers ever had of surviving the battle for New Horizon.

The anger overtook Locke, running the last few steps towards the doorway the enemy had come through. He was done showing off, playing with these arrogant fools was a waste of time. Gunfire erupted from the traitors from above Locke's position, but it did not stop the Titan.

It took only a few steps before Locke was through the doorway. Inside the enemy was scampering for cover as the Titan showed them its armoured face. Its armour was scarred and dirty, but the snarling wolf on its arm was still visible.

Moments later the Alpha Wolf of the Grim Wolves freed his shackles and that is when the screaming started.

The Lancers returned fire as the enemy peppered the defenders from their positions. There was no turning back now, and there was no escaping the final, frantic battle of Santor. Bodies dropped on both sides, one force fighting for survival and a future, the other for murder and conquest. Sabian's marksmen were well trained snipers, taking a heavy toll on the enemy number with every shot they fired, but with every traitor that died two more took its place. Luckily the defenders did not have to worry about counter sniper fire, Godwaker had seen to that. Enemy snipers had tried to reach the roof of the building overlooking the courtyard, but from the distance Godwaker had made sure that no-one ever set foot on roof of the south building. The thunderous fire from Godwaker was a welcome sound to all of the defenders, but its non-stop reaping would soon draw the unwanted attention of other, more inhuman enemies. Its vigil over the Wolves and Lancers would have to end sometime, and already traitors and beasts were growing tired of the artificial thunder murdering their own.

Jay and the Lancers serving as his spotters and guard were unaware that on the ground a horde of surviving monsters had followed the sound of Godwaker, pinpointing its location with ease, and were now breaking into the lower levels of the building Godwaker was firing from. To make matters worse, the commander in charge of the traitors had ordered the last of his aerial units to destroy the very same building.

Soon Corporal Jay's position would be attacked from above and below, and a desperate battle to stay alive until pickup would take place in the burning heat of New Horizon's sun.

One of Sabian's snipers fell, his body falling backwards, a burning hole in his chest. The man had died instantly from the bullet that had destroyed his heart and lungs, making no sound as his life lost its grip on his dead body.

Rivers picked up the dead Lancer's rifle and sighted through its scope, searching for targets in the windows overlooking the courtyard. He fired the high calibre rifle a few times, rounds penetrating through walls, seeing past the stone and cement with his helmet's Reap sight. Rivers was down on one knee, using his solid armoured suit to anchor himself to the ground. The recoil from the marksman variant of the Kicker rifle was not enough to bother a Titan, instead the position helped Rivers' accuracy. He was the oldest Titan still in active duty, and was not going to take any chances with his aging body inside the protective shell of his suit.

Rivers could not see Locke anymore, the Titan captain vanishing into the building and into the midst of the traitors just as the fire had erupted from both sides. He did not dare to try and raise Locke on the radio, knowing full well that he was on one of his rare rampages, and nothing anyone said or did would be able to stop him. Locke would stop when everything standing against him was either dead or running away. And in most cases the enemies that were attempting to flee never made it very far, hunted down by the Alpha Wolf as their backs were turned and their cowardly hearts searching for salvation. That salvation would never come and Locke was not one to allow a coward and enemy to live longer than they needed to.

Rivers silently wondered to himself what Captain Locke's kill count was. It was probably higher than anyone could guess. That alone was a haunting thought. The weight of those deaths, human and monster would crush regular humans, but not Gabriel Locke. All Rivers knew for sure was that he was happy Locke was on his side, and not storming the defender's lines he found himself in at exactly that moment. The Titan sergeant dismissed the thought and returned his mind to the present, pulling the trigger of the marksman rifle, killing three more traitors who stuck their heads out to fire down at the defenders.

Pyoter on the other hand was having the time of his life. He never thought he would love a weapon more than his machine gun he had almost lost on board the Fateful Moment, but the borrowed breaching cannon was quickly becoming one of his new favourites. If weapons were females, his machine gun would be his regular lover and the cannon he now held his secret mistress.

This thought caused the giant Titan to smile, his grip on his new mistress tightening as it roared, its barrel spewing rounds of molten shrapnel at the traitors on the second floor of the south building.

He did not kill as many traitors as he would have liked, but the breaching cannon was perforating the walls of the building, turning it into almost see-through mesh on the courtyard's side. This gave the Lancers more targets to fire at as the traitors' cover disappeared with every round Pyoter fired.

The smiles on the defenders faces' vanished when western edge of the south building collapsed and crumbled. The remaining man-killer vehicle stormed through the rubble, its side-mounted guns opening fire before the dust even cleared.

Lancers died and Titans dove for cover. The armoured vehicle ground to a halt, its cannon rotating to aim at the overturned truck Pyoter was hiding behind.

'Run!" was all the giant Titan could utter before the cannon fired and the truck was consumed by an angry explosion.

Pyoter would survive, his armour protecting him against most of the fireball melting his previously sturdy cover, but the Lancers with him were not so lucky, all of them perishing as soon as the man-killer round hit the overturned truck. Some were blown to bits while others were killed by shrapnel from the explosions.

The vehicle needed to die, but Pyoter was too far with his breaching cannon to bother it, and Rivers' rifle would do nothing against the thick armour of the man-killer.

Something would have to happen, and soon, otherwise the enemy vehicle would kill everyone in the courtyard within a handful of moments.

Rivers was suddenly aware of his mortality, and knew that even Titans could bleed and die. Rivers voiced words from a prayer his mother had taught him as a youngling. "Reach down from the sky and shield us lord..." he said, his voice trailing off as he watched the man-killer's cannon rotate to fire again.

A voice answered his prayer, but it was not in the form of words, only a throaty roar. Moments later the wall on the top floor above the vehicle disintegrated and Rivers' prayer was answered.

# Chapter Eight  
Checkmate

" _Mark my words. Your faith is misplaced in these cowards posing as heroes. You fools put all of your hope on the shoulders of these...Titans. Can't you see? They are only men and women, they are not special, and they will not be our salvation. You can clad the weakness beating inside their chests with technology and layers of armoured plating, but it does not change what they are underneath. I urge you to vote against the deployment of the Titans against the Beast on Arkelis. Instead, give me the authority to use our fusion weapons against these monsters. Let me crush them with my vessels. I can singlehandedly win this war for the council. Do not deny me! I seek only the obliteration of the nightmares that hunt us through the void."  
-Council Member Vincent, High Lord and Commander of the Northern Sectors, Recorded during the Arkelis War Summit_

Rivers could not make out what had jumped from the hole in the wall above the vehicle at first, his tactical vision struggling to see through the debris and smoke the sudden explosion from within the western building had created.

But the tactical vision was a powerful tool in a Titan's arsenal, piercing the smoky veil as the human shape object plummeted towards the armoured man-killer.

Rivers almost cheered when his Suit OS locked on to Nathan's armoured body falling feet first.

The Titan brothers had made it, and they were joining the fight against the traitors with quiet the entrance.

There was no sign of the rookie yet, but there was no doubt in Rivers' mind that Nathan would not leave his brother behind, let alone a brother Titan.

Nathan hit the top of the man-killer's turret, buckling the armour right above the commander's hatch. He punched with all of his artificial strength, aiming his armoured fist at the joints locking the hatch in place. It only took one hit, the joints and bolts bending and shattering under the force. The turret's cannon barked off two more shots, the shells fired blindly and out of sheer panic, aimed in the general direction of the defenders' lines.

One shot missed and hit one of the broken up smoke stacks, shacking the ground and showering the defenders with dust and debris. The second shot, however, hit home. It exploded only a few feet to the left of Rivers and Sabian, engulfing the marksmen and their commander in flame and shrapnel. The screams in the courtyard drowned out the screams from the inside of the south building.

The man-killer did not get a chance to fire a third round. Christian had dropped down from the hole above the vehicle, landing with shield first on the cannon's barrel. The barrel was a thick tube of hardened steel and rare alloys, but the Titan's velocity and force was enough to bend it, bend it enough to hinder it from firing again.

Christian rolled away from the vehicle, dodging smaller calibre fire from the sides of the doomed man-killer, his entire body still rocking from the connection with the barrel, his arms pained and his shield dented. Christian did not waste any time, he headed back into the west building, making for the fourth floor to where the Titan brothers' companions were waiting for the all clear. They had left Jessica, Tristan, Sam and Nash there for safety while they took care of the danger below.

Nathan peeled off the hatch like a homeless man attacking his last can of sardines. His strength was immense, the metal hatch never resisting the Titan warping it with his strength. Wide eyes stared up at Nathan as he tossed the mangled hatch away. One man in particular was shitting himself when Nathan reached for him.

The commander of the traitorous ground forces tried to draw his pistol, but Nathan grabbed his arm and twisted it, breaking it instantly. Nathan held the man up with his right hand, his armoured hand grasping the commander's rat-like neck tightly, but not tight enough to strangle the vermin.

"Scream. Your men aren't hearing you," Nathan whispered to the man, his visor inches away from the commander's pain filled face.

At first he made no sound, but Nathan urged him on with a punch to his side. The man obliged as his ribs shattered inside his body. His men heard the agony escaping his lungs, fear reaching for their traitorous hearts.

"Mercy," the commander managed to say through all of the pain.

A bullet ricocheted from Nathan's shoulder before he replied. His attacker died moments later at the hands of a Lancer close to the Titan's position. "Mercy?" Nathan genuinely asked. "Where was your mercy when you attacked this planet? Where was your mercy when you killed women and children?" Nathan's grip tightened around the man's neck.

"Please," the commander begged. "Spare me," he said, his voice soft and weak, struggling to breath as his lips formed the words.

"Beg all you want, no-one will listen to your cowardly words," Nathan said.

He did not wait for the man to say anything else, crushing the commander's neck in his grip. Instead of just discarding the body, Nathan jumped down from the vehicle with the dead commander's lifeless body still clutched in his armoured hand. He walked in clear view of the enemy, lifting their commander's limp body high for all to see.

"Look!" he yelled through his helmet's speakers. His voice echoed throughout the courtyard, drowning out most of the gunfire and screams. Nathan threw the body disdainfully to the ground, stepping over it towards the enemy hiding within the south building. Another Alpha Wolf had joined the fight, and this one was hungrier and enjoyed the hunt even more than Locke did.

Rivers was about to call out to Pyoter, who was picking himself up from the man-killer's first attack, to join Bear, but the sound of coughing behind him drew his attention first.

Rivers knew the sound. He recognized it as the sound of blood drowning the lungs of a dying man. He turned to where the final round of the man-killer had impacted and horror gripped him for the first time in many years.

Sabian was crawling from the impact zone, his legs were missing from the knees down, one of his arms mangled and his emerald armour melted and broken.

The words could not come at first. Rivers froze as he watched Sabian, crawling painfully towards one of his fallen marksmen. Emotion gripped him as he watched Sabian, his body almost destroyed, still worrying more about his men than his own excruciating pain and survival.

"Gabriel! If you can hear me, Sabian is down. I repeat Commander Sabian is down!" Rivers yelled over the radio. The Lancers heard him as well, some of them rushing through gunfire to come to the aid of their beloved leader.

There was no reply at first, but Locke answered Rivers after a handful of moments. "Then the situation has changed," Locke said. The Titan captain was out of breath, gunshots echoed in the background as he spoke. "Kill them all," was all he said before going silent again.

The Lancers would take care of Sabian, but the Titans needed to finish the fight, and they needed to finish it soon.

Rivers called for Pyoter to join him and both of them rushed the traitors' lines, taking the fight to the enemy.

None of them knew that Corporal Jay would soon give them even more bad news, and that news would force the Titans to do something that went against everything they stood for and fought for.

They hated the mere notion of it, choosing to never even utter the word.

Retreat was not something the Titans did willingly.

The Beasts were coming.

The chaos in and around the extraction zone had drawn the attention of every mutant for miles. The bloodshed on both sides was an irresistible and delectable potential feast for the beasts. There was always this feeling in the back of everyone's minds that the amount of monsters they had fought and killed were not even close to the amount of civilians that had inhabited Santor. Scores of people were missing, and the encountered monsters could not have eaten or killed all of them.

That feeling was proven correct when Scout Titan Jay had radioed in that the nightmares everyone thought were dead or missing had finally shown their disfigured faces. And they were swarming towards both his and the other Titans' positions.

Locke had ceased his hunt to ask how many and from where.

Corporal Jay's answer was short and to the point, and enough to send chills down every friendly who heard his words. "Unknown and from everywhere," he had replied to Captain Locke.

Godwaker had fallen silent after that.

Traitor soldiers on the ground and in the air had been left leaderless, and were now left to choose their own paths to salvation or damnation

The soldiers had chosen to escape, to run and make for whatever shelter they could find, no doubt their pilots had been reporting the exact same sights to their ground troops as Jay had reported to the rest of the Wolves.

The enemy air units that were still in the air had chosen to keep fighting, following their commander's last orders and making the enemy pay for as long as their engines kept them in the air.

Corporal Jay was being assaulted by a wing of enemy fighters while the beasts climbed the inside of the building he had been sniping from. His time was running out.

The defenders of the extraction point, Lancers and Wolves, had mere minutes before they would be overrun.

Locke did not want to stop, his blood boiled inside his veins, his muscles burning from the hunt, but he had no choice. It was going to be close, and there was no time to waste.

It was time to leave Santor.

"Fall back! We are leaving this hell," Locke said reluctantly over the radio. "Gunn, are you there?"

"Yes Captain," Gunn replied. She and her sister drop ships were circling high over the extraction zone, flanked by some of the remaining Flying Tigers. The other Tigers were burning towards Scout Titan Jay's positions to lend him and the Lancers there some aid.

"Extraction Protocol Zeta," Locke ordered.

"Understood Captain Locke," Gunn replied.

"Brimstone's Embrace?" Locke asked over the radio.

Another pilot's voice replied, belonging to the owner of one of the Maiden's sister drop ships. "How may I be of service Titan?" the pilot answered.

"Move to support the package, retrieve it and haul ass back here," Locke ordered.

"Roger that sir. Turning and burning now."

Locke called his Wolves back, and one by one they answered. Xander leapt through the only remaining window overlooking the courtyard, shattering glass and landing on the concrete ground. Pyoter and Rivers had just started their hunt when the bad news had been heard, both of them were already moving to where the Lancers were gathering near Sabian's remaining convoy troop carriers. Nathan joined up with Locke inside the south building, covered in blood from his relentless killing. Nobody except Nathan kept count of his kills in those few moments after killing the enemy commander, and he would keep the number to himself, no-one would ever believe exactly how many traitors he had slain.

Locke stepped onto the concrete where he had been fighting earlier. The dead bodies of the men he had killed surrounded him as he made his way towards where his Wolves were gathering.

Corporal Quinn was not present, he was watching over Doctor Sax and her companions in the west building, waiting there in relative safety and silence until the time to extract came. The final drop ship, the Maiden, would pick them up on the roof before leaving Santor forever.

Pyoter was kneeling beside Sabian's mangled body when Locke re-joined the squad. Sabian was fastened to a field-stretcher, his body unable to move, vials of painkillers and stimulants pumping through his body, trying to fix what little they could or at least make Sabian's suffering less.

Locke knelt down beside Sabian, placing his armoured hand on the man's bloody forehead. "Your new scars will be quite the lady magnets," Locke said jokingly, trying only to lift the spirits of his old friend.

"At least..." Sabian's voice trailed off as if he was going to pass out. But the man's legendary inner strength brought him back from the edge, "...I am still the prettier one." His voice was strained and full of pain, but he was not going to give up just yet.

"You always were. Rest old friend," Locke said, removing his helmet to look the man in the eyes. "We are leaving. You will be home soon." Locke did not mean the Hyperion. The chances of Sabian fighting again or even surviving was slim, but he secretly hoped Sabian's stubbornness would keep him alive long enough to see the void one last time.

"Promise me...that you will save my Lancers," Sabian forced out, his breathing was becoming more weak with every passing second. "Promise me, Gabriel..."

"They are as much my brothers as my Wolves are yours. I promise, they will live on," Locke replied.

Sabian nodded and closed his eyes. The Lancer-medic next to him froze, thinking his commander had died. But after checking his heartbeat he relaxed slightly.

"He goes first, then the civilians. Is that clear?" Locke said to everyone nearby before he placed his helmet on his head again.

No-one disagreed with Locke's suggestion. Sabian deserved to go first, he had earned it.

Nathan's posture changed suddenly, his characteristic shoulder roll telling everyone that knew him, that he had heard or seen something. "Here they come," he said, sounding almost excited.

As the Maiden and the other drop ships dived to pick up the defenders below them, the Wolves and the Lancers who were still able to fight formed a semi-circle around the civilians and wounded.

The Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder with the Lancers, some knelt down to aim their rifles, others chose to stand and fight.

No-one knew who would survive, but it did not matter, they still had some fight left in them.

The Hyperion was taking a pounding from enemy fighters and bombers. The Flying Tigers that had stayed behind on the Hyperion were doing their best to handle the swarm of traitors pummelling the Hyperion's hull. Luckily the heavy ship to ship ordinance was focused on the vessels in the blockade, not that there were many left of those valiant vessels.

Twelve vessels of different classes had formed the line to protect the Immortal Terran and her allies still rescuing people from the surface of New Horizon. After a few hours of furious void battling, only three remained. But that did not stop them from hurting the traitors trying to break through the desperate blockade. Two cruisers and one cargo vessel with an array of custom weaponry fired everything they had at their enemies. The void around where most of the blockade ships used to be was littered with fields of drifting debris and the frozen bodies of brave crew members belonging to the dead or dying vessels.

Enemy vessels were forced to use hit and run tactics to try and reach the targets beyond the blockade. The debris fields kept them from barging through, striking the allies where it would hurt the most, or what the traitors thought would be the most damaging blow.

Their target was the Hyperion, and Gray's words with Lord Vincent had ensured that his vessel and his crew were at the top of the lists of things the Lord of the North wanted to see destroyed.

So far nothing had broken through that was big enough to bother the Hyperion and the Immortal Terran anchored in orbit above Santor. But it would only be a matter of time before the larger vessels obliterated the three remaining blockade vessels.

"Shouldn't we help them?" Remy asked. The poor girl was looking distraught.

"Nothing we can do will make any difference to the fate of those vessels and their crews. They knew what they were getting into the moment they took up positions to face the traitors. All we can do is remember them for what they did, how they stood against evil, saving the lives of thousands of people at the cost of their own," Gray replied, still seated in his command chair, leaving the co-ordination of fighters protecting the Hyperion to Remy and her staff. Gray had enough on his mind as he impatiently waited for Locke and everyone else to return. His exterior seemed calm, but the sweat on his brow and the nervous twitch of his eye revealed his inner turmoil to those who had served under him for a long time.

"We should at least say something..." Remy said. She left the words hanging in the air. It was her way of making Gray do her bidding without it being too obvious.

Gray nodded, gathering himself to speak to the three vessels still holding the line of the blockade. "Open a channel. Let's honour them with some words of courage and admiration."

"Channel is open, sir," a communication officer said from the right of the bridge.

Gray took a deep breath and then he spoke. His words echoed on the bridges of the vessels surrounding the Hyperion. The Immortal Terran and her companions all heard what he was about to say.

"Captains, your actions today speak volumes of your courage. Your unselfish sacrifice in a time of New Horizon's great need will never be forgotten. My crew have saved every piece of data available to us. The names of your crew and your vessels will live in our memories for as long as the Hyperion remains operational. I will personally write the legend of your deeds in the records of our race. I speak to everyone still drawing breath and to everyone already waiting in the afterlife." Gray paused before continuing. "Bleed these bastards as much as you can, take as many of them with you as you can, we will be right here with you until the end." Another pause as Gray's emotions tried to bubble up to the surface, but he held them down with sheer will. "Thank you." He could not say any more.

The Captains of the other vessels did not respond, the emotional words from a legendary Captain like Gray was enough to render many of them speechless. The Captains of the doomed vessels renewed their barrages against the enemy, Gray's words fuelling their bravery.

Soon after Gray's heartfelt speech one of the allied cruisers broke apart under enemy fire. Its name was the Royal Prince, and it had fought like a cornered lion before succumbing to its wounds. Ripping the throat from two enemy vessels with its broadsides, claiming a small victory as it perished, becoming a part of the graveyard around New Horizon, forever.

The Royal Prince's destruction heralded the Immortal Terran's departure.

Captain Volk's voice was sorrowful but carried the strength all good void captains required. "We have retrieved our last shuttle and we cannot remain here."

"Be safe Captain. Run as far as you can and spread the word of what happened here today," Gray replied.

"I will. We will meet again Captain Willis Gray." Volk said nothing more. The Immortal Terran glowed bright as its BEAM drive awoke. It vanished moments later with a bright flash, its BEAM drive hurling it at a distant location far away from the dangers around New Horizon.

Gray smiled to himself. Volk was as crazy as he was, activating her BEAM drive so close to a planet, or in such close proximity to other vessels. It was something he would have normally considered doing and he hoped he would get to meet Amanda Volk in person before either of them died. Death was something that was quite possible judging by the current state of things.

"Have we had contact with Locke or Gunn?" Gray asked Remy.

Remy was hunched over the command table at the centre of the bridge, her hands worked furiously to issue orders to the Flying Tigers still battling in the void, maintaining order in what seemed like chaos to others. "One short burst from the Maiden. Locke has called for a retreat. They are executing Protocol Zeta as we speak," she said without looking up.

Gray's jaw tightened. He was not a Titan but that word - retreat - hit a nerve with any good military man. Things were very dire indeed if Locke had called the retreat.

The final chess pieces were moving into place, and as luck would have it the enemy's best piece chose that exact moment to make its grand entrance.

A bright flash, larger than normal, brought worth the traitors' queen.

The Stygian Council had arrived in all its murderous glory.

Gray saw it arrive on the scanners on the displays in front of him. "Checkmate," he said to himself.

Godwaker fired, but not as it was intended. Instead of Jay using it as a long range rifle, he was using it to hip fire into the monsters pouring out of the door leading to the building below.

Shot after thundering shot tore holes in the angry horde rushing the Scout Titan's position. The head of a mutated monstrosity evaporated, taking the beast behind with it as well. But there were just too many, heavy machine gun fire from the Lancers cut down the mutants as they tried to reach for the delicious human flesh stranded on the building's roof.

Jay turned as his visor picked up a clawed nightmare scurrying over the edge of the building. It was smarter than the rest, flanking the buffet instead of taking them head on and dying before it could taste the inviting feast. Jay's arms were already numb from hip-firing Godwaker. It boomed again, the last bullet in its clip destroying the clawed beast, removing its entire upper body in a spray of mutated blood.

A Lancer next to Jay died, his chest pierced by bones shaped like blades, protruding from the beast's elongated arms. Jay let go of Godwaker with one hand, dropping the great weapon's barrel to the ground. He reached for the high calibre revolver strapped to his back armour. Two shots from the revolver killed the bladed beast; another shot killed a second mutant as it dashed through gun fire towards him.

Inch by bloody inch the beasts were gaining ground on the Lancer's positions. More died with every passing second, but the dying were trampled and forgotten under new hungry monsters storming over the dead and mutilated bodies of their kin. They did not feel for their dead, never stopping to even process the idea of loss or emotion. They only wanted to feed, they needed to feed, it was all they knew, and it was all they wanted to know.

A black-hulled fighter flew overhead, strafing Jay's position with machine gun fire. Two Lancers died, bullets killing them instantly.

Jay had no time to think on how a bad situation was becoming worse as a second enemy fighter unleashed molten hell. This pilot was more experienced than the previous one, hovering just above the edge of the building, using his fighter's landing thrusters to keep his fighter stable. The ropes of bullets killed beast and Lancer alike, ripping bodies apart with traitorous intent. But the pilot had forgotten one vital thing when fighting against the Beast. Their hunger had no end, and they would do anything to feed it, even if they had to throw all caution into the wind just to taste flesh.

A behemoth covered in bone spikes leapt out of the top floor of the building, its weight and strength carrying it high and far enough to latch onto the bottom of the enemy fighter.

At first the pilot of the black-hulled fighter did not know what had happened, but behind his flight helmet realization dawned on him as his fighter started to tip and fall away. The behemoth was too heavy as it started tearing into the fighter's vital belly, ripping chunks of light armour off with its mutated bare hands. The pilot lost all power to his fighter, falling lower and faster towards the ground. Together they plummeted until they hit the surface, both traitor and monster vaporized in a ball of plasma flame from the fighter's ruptured power source.

Jay felt the building underneath him vibrate, its structure warping from the plasma explosion at its base.

Lancers and some beasts lost their footing, giving the beasts the opportunity to close in on the humans that they wished to gorge themselves on.

A Lancer, closest to where the monsters were pouring out of, died in the most horrible way. Two large, muscled creatures tore his body in half, ceasing their attack to feast on the poor man's remains.

The Lancers and Corporal Jay were on the back foot, stepping backwards slowly to the edge of the building, firing into the monsters encircling them. The heavy machine gun was down, its operators falling back as soon as the monstrous tide was too much to hold back.

A Lancer named Diaz threw a Hellfire grenade at the feet of the advancing horde. It exploded in a bright orange light; flame erupting from it compressed body.

Fire spread out in front of the horde, the sticky liquid inside the Hellfire grenade melting into flesh and concrete. The flames spread out far enough to give Jay and his companions a few moments to breath. One monster dared to leap over the flames, but it had misjudged the fire's ferocity, burning as it leapt, dying before its mutated feet reached the concrete on the other side of the flames.

Bright lights hit the horde, blinding them, emanating from a source behind the humans trapped on the roof of the crumbling building.

Jay turned to see a fat drop ship hovering at the lip of the building's roof, flanked by two fighters in colours Jay instantly recognized.

"Looks like we are getting out of here after all boys!" Jay cheered. The Lancers kept firing but they were just as relieved as the Scout Titan was.

The pilot of Brimstone's Embrace spoke over the loud speaker attached to the hull of his ship. "Hurry! Extraction Protocol Zeta is in effect, sir."

"Lancers, go!" Jay yelled to his companions.

One by one the Lancers leapt from the edge of the building into the open cargo doors of the drop ship. Jay was the last to leave the roof of the doomed building. His jump from the edge into the drop ship was the signal for the Flying Tigers to open fire on the horde still trapped behind the barrier of flame.

Jay almost lost his balance as he hit the decking of the drop ship, but Lancer Diaz reached for him, steadying him before Godwaker in his right hand dragged the Scout Titan out of the open cargo doors. Godwaker's weight would have made for a very short and painful drop.

The Flying Tigers killed droves of monsters, their guns reaping everything that moved on the roof. Even Brimstone's Embrace opened fire with its mounted weapons, and together the three ships killed, making the beasts pay for the lives they had taken.

When the fire stopped only the flames were still alive, feasting on the oxygen and mutated flesh in close proximity, nothing else moved on the roof.

Brimstone's Embrace tilted and spun on its axis, its engines firing to propel it forward towards the extraction point. The Flying Tigers flanked the drop ship, keeping it safe as it hurried to help extract the Wolves and all of their companions.

The package and five of his Lancer guards had leapt from the building. Six survivors, that was neither good nor bad, just one more thing the survivors would have to deal with when the time came to leave New Horizon.

Jay gripped Godwaker on his lap tighter, looking down at it as the drop ship avoided ground fire from a squad of traitors taking cover on a roof. Jay smiled to himself. At least Rivers would not kill him for losing his precious weapon.

Godwaker would howl again, hopefully.

The beasts attacked from three different directions. They came from the east, west and south. Thankfully the north buildings had collapsed due to some unknown previous battle that Locke and his companions had not witnessed, and would require earth-moving equipment to clear the giant piles of debris and metal sub structures.

Gunners inside the remaining troop carriers fired their high calibre guns without stopping. Two of the weapons mounted on their hulls had already been reduced to useless junk; the constant firing had melted barrels and seized firing mechanisms.

There was no end to the creatures assaulting the extraction zone, breaking like a wave against the firepower of the defenders.

The Titans stood firm, firing their own and borrowed weapons into the horde. The Lancers fired from crouched or kneeling positions in front of the Titans, Sabian's trained discipline showing as the Lancers fired and reloaded with relative ease. Even though their hands were tired, their limbs numb, and their minds heavy, they still fought one. What was most remarkable was that the Lancers did so without any kind of enhancements, they had no advanced suit of armour, no Nano machines to repair tissue or muscle damage, and no combat drugs burning through their veins, but still they fought on, without rest, without breaking.

They were the true heroes, even though the Titans were the stronger and better fighters, the Lancers were the unsung heroes of the entire New Horizon battle. They fought and died for the inhabitants of Santor, never hesitating for a second to lay down their own lives at the cost of their own. They followed every order to the letter, and never once were they insubordinate.

Locke's thoughts drifted as his body's muscle memory took over, automatically firing his rifle as he killed monster after monster. He heard no sound beyond the sound of gunfire, an almost hypnotic chorus of firing mechanisms hitting unexploded bullets and the rush of flame that launched the deadly piece of lead at the enemies.

His thoughts dwindled on Sabian and his Lancers, how the man had created such soldiers in only a few years. The Lancer name was not even a decade old, but already their success on the battlefield and their heroic actions were worthy of the legends the Titans were part of. Locke's final thought before his focus returned to the current situation was that he would have to take over command of the Lancers, and somehow repay them for their courage. Sabian would either not survive, or be unable to command his men ever again. Locke would honour his men, and honour the work he had done.

A voice over the radio snapped all of Locke's consciousness back to the moment.

It was a pilot from one of the drop ships above their position. "First extraction is ready, touchdown in three seconds, sir."

Locke acknowledged the pilots words, switching channel to speak to the Lancers and his Wolves. "Sabian and the civilians first!" he ordered.

The drop ship named the White Knife came down right on top of the extraction zone, falling like a meteor towards the ground. Less than fifty feet above the concrete surface of the courtyard the pilot of the White Knife hit his glide thrusters, pulling the nose of the drop ship up sharply. The manoeuvre looked almost beautiful, like a bird diving towards a pond to catch the little insects living just above the water. It kicked up clouds of dust, but the pilot executed his daring manoeuvre perfectly, hovering only inches from the ground. Extraction Plan Zeta called for it, there was not time for landing and then loading, it all had to be done to allow the drop ship to instantly take off when all of the cargo was on-board.

"Go, go!" Locke yelled. He was still firing at the monsters closing in on the defenders, but the fire from the troop carriers was enough to keep the beasts at bay while the first ship was loaded.

In less than a minute, Sabian and all of the civilians, including Sabian's personal medic, was on-board the White Knife, ready to leave Santor.

The pilot of the White Knife did not wait for a command to leave, pulling back on his flight stick, tilting the nose of the drop ship towards the sky. The engines flared red and the White Knife was propelled upwards towards the heavens.

As soon as the White Knife was clear, a second drop ship was already diving for the surface. It was Sabian's drop ship, named after his home planet, Mercurial Dawn. It performed the same manoeuvre the White Knife had, diving at break neck speeds for the ground, pulling up suddenly to hover just above the dust covered courtyard.

"Lancers! Go!" Locke ordered.

The Lancers crouched in front of the line turned and ran for the drop ship, covering their own as they fell back. One by one they boarded the Mercurial Dawn.

All of the Lancers save for the ones still in the troop carriers were on-board. Locke had at least kept part of his promise to Sabian.

Gunn was next to dive, falling even faster than the others, hitting her glide thrusters even closer to the surface. She was not trying to show off, but only minimize the time it took her to get into position.

"Our ride is here Wolves. Fall back!" Locke yelled at his wolves.

They turned one by one, running and jumping into the open cargo hold of the Maiden. Each of them turned and kept firing as the Maiden remained hovering, covering each other as they fell back.

Locke was the last to get on-board. "Gunners, the next ride is yours," he said over the radio to the men still inside the troop carriers.

"Negative. There is no time, sir. It is too risky. We will stay," a Lancer said from within one of the troop carriers. In the background the voices of the Lancer's squad could be heard agreeing with the decision to stay.

"Thank you. Good luck to you," Locke said.

"We don't need luck anymore, sir. But more bullets would have been nice." The Lancer chuckled before cutting the link, the fire never stopped during their short conversation.

Gunn lifted off as the Titans fired down at the horde of monsters. They were now closing in on the troop carriers, slowly gaining ground because the firepower from the Lancers and the Wolves were not there to help anymore. Soon they would overwhelm the vehicles and feast on the human flesh inside. Luckily no-one would be around to see the Lancers gruesome demise, and that was at least an honourable way to die - to not let others hear you scream before you were torn to shreds.

"Get to the roof Corporal Quinn, we are heading your way," Locke said to his Titan still on the ground.

Christian heard the captain's order and acknowledged it with a word. He picked up Tristan and led the way up towards the roof of the west building, careful not to make too much noise to alert the beasts scurrying about on the lower floors.

It was almost over, and they were almost safe - almost.

Christian scanned the stairs above him, listening for any movement from the darkness. The staircase was gloomy and almost too quiet. There were no windows to light up the staircase, it was nothing more than a concrete shaft filled with stone stairs leading ever upwards. He could hear nothing from above or below, only the footsteps Jessica, Sam and Nash were making as they ascended the steps slowly. He had to be cautious, in these confined spaces if the monsters attacked them it would be a difficult task to protect everyone with him.

He could hear the Maiden's engines with their characteristic whining slowly circling the roof he was leading everyone to. Gunn had to circle, hovering for too long in one place would draw the beasts' attention from within and from without the buildings, and that would just complicate the final pickup. It would probably cost Christian and the people with him their lives.

Christian froze in place, his head tilting to the right, listening to something that troubled him, but he would not dare show it. If he did they would panic, and then things would just turn to shit, fast. The troop carriers had stopped firing, their engines could still be heard revving, but there was no more loud booms from their heavy calibre machine guns echoing from the courtyard.

The others had probably heard it as well, but the weariness aching in their limbs blocked them from dwelling on why the sound of gunfire had ceased.

Christian continued his climb, taking the steps a little quicker now that they were almost to the roof. In his arms Tristan's breath was shallow, but the girl was wide awake, her eyes were trying to pierce the gloom to help Christian see in the darkness. It was a futile effort but Christian appreciated it none the less.

He froze again, and so did everyone else behind him. An extra pair of footsteps could be heard just above the group. It sounded human, the steps falling slower, the distinct animalistic snorting and smelling only the keenest ears could pick up as the thing above them searched for prey. Its footfalls were heavy, coming ever closer. Christian's switched his visor to prey sight with a whisper, eye-watering red filled his vision. It took only a moment, but his advanced systems saw the creature move above them, penetrating through the stone stairs with relative ease, highlighting the threat.

Luckily it was alone, Christian's reap sight could see everything around the group, and there was only the one heat signature that did not belong to his companions. The other creatures were too far down or away to be seen by the reap sight; its range was not infinite.

Down it came, step by slow step, grunting as it smelled the air. It could smell human flesh, but the smell did not belong to anyone in Christian's group. The smell of the dead from outside was far more enticing than the unwashed bodies taking cover behind Christian's armoured form.

Christian set Tristan down on the cold stone steps, remaining crouched as the creature came closer. It was less than a few feet away, still entranced by whatever it could smell.

Six feet, five feet, four feet, three feet, and then it stopped, but not because it had noticed Christian and his companions. No, it had stopped because of the combat blade sticking out of its forehead, and an armoured hand wrapped around the back of is limp head. Christian had struck quickly and silently, using his speed to stab the monster in the head, sliding the blade clean through its brain and skull. The creature went limp in his hands, but he held it up to keep it from falling and making any noise to alert any other monsters that might be lurking close by. Christian could see why the creature had not noticed them. It had no eyes or ears, its entire face had mutated into one congealed mess of flesh and bone, the human genes were probably of lesser stock and the mutation did the best it could to make a killer out of what it had infected.

He set the body of the mutant down quietly, shifting his blade to his left hand as he reached to pick up Tristan again.

Christian gestured for the others to follow him, even though they did not completely see the gesture, they saw his battered armour move in the shadows, and they just followed the Titan.

They were on the last flight of stairs moments later, and waiting for them at the end was the door leading to the roof they had been heading for.

Christian radioed Locke, telling his captain that they were in position and ready to move.

The Maiden stopped circling abruptly, moving into position just above the roof of the building. There it waited for the door leading into the building to swing open and the last allies on the ground to get on-board, hovering mere inches above the roof.

The door to the outside was locked. Christian had to kick it with all of his strength, sending the mangled piece of metal that used to be a door flying and then sliding over the roof towards the Maiden.

Xander had made a comment about how dramatic the rookie was, but his words fell on deaf ears. There was something else the others were focused on. Xander's quip had stopped him from seeing it.

Gunn called it out over the squad radio. "Enemy fighter incoming!" she yelled. The weapons attached to the Maiden's hull opened fire on the enemy fighter's sudden appearance. But it was in vain, it was too fast for the mounted weapons to track and successfully hit it. Those weapons were meant for air to ground enemies, and were best used to cover retreating soldiers or take out static targets.

Christian stormed through the door, stopping on the other side of the portal to usher the rest of the group to run for the Maiden. He watched them run and fell in behind them.

The enemy fighter had seen the Maiden, and as it turned to strafe the hovering drop ship it saw even easier targets. It corrected its course and sighted its weapons at the four softer targets running across the open roof.

Bullets exploded around the running Jessica, barely missing her and Sam as they side-stepped as best they could. Nash was not bothering to dodge the enemy fighter's fire; he just kept his eyes on the Maiden and ran directly for it.

Christian used his free arm to protect Tristan, holding his armoured limb over her vital head and upper body while his other arm carried her weight.

The enemy fighter missed on its first run, but it pulled back into a climb to get another run at the soft targets. It was lightning fast and by the time Nash, who was running at the front of the group, was only a few feet away from the Maiden, it was already firing again.

The gaps between Jessica, Sam and Nash had opened up, giving the fighter ample opportunity to target the middle runners.

But it never got the chance. As luck would have it, if one believes in such things, Jinx found his target. Somehow, the man Gunn blames for all of the things that went wrong on her ship, had hit the fighter with the mounted guns. Jinx cheered as flame erupted from the fighter's side and started spinning uncontrollably.

There was only one problem, it was spinning directly for the roof they were hovering on and Gunn was already cursing Jinx's good aim.

It was all happening so slowly in front of Christian's eyes. He heard the fighter choke and the scream of it falling towards him. He saw Nash and Sam jump into the Maiden. He also saw Jessica losing her footing in front of him just as the fighter hit the roof. She stumbled but regained her footing long enough to leap for the outstretched hand of one of the Wolves.

Time returned to normal for Christian when debris from the fighter exploded in his path, flame and shrapnel engulfed the roof, cutting Christian's path off to the Maiden.

He could easily have run in front of the group, but he wanted the others to go first. He could easily have jumped through the flames to safety, but he might have burned Tristan who was starting to become more afraid as she felt the flames on her face.

All of the action on the roof had drawn the hungry attention of the beasts on the floors below, and behind Christian they were already pouring through the open portal.

To make matters worse, the concrete beneath him sagged and started to crack, the weight of the fighter and the trauma from its destruction damaging the roof's already weakened state.

Christian made a decision, something Jessica would probably hurt him for later, but it was the only thing he could think of before the roof collapsed or the monsters were upon him.

He shifted and used all of his strength to throw the frightened girl in his arms. She was light enough and his aim was good. She flew high enough over the flames to only get a few minor burns on her exposed legs. Pyoter was the one that caught her. He softened her landing with his giant arms, relaxing as he caught her to not injure the fragile girl as she landed in his armoured embrace.

The roof collapsed under Christian's feet before he could move again, and then he was gone.

He fell for what felt like minutes, but it was less than a few seconds. Above him the flames followed him down, reaching for him as everything around him crumbled and collapsed.

Christian's body hit something hard and then there was only darkness.

# Chapter Eight.One  
Endgame

" _It was a mistake to create the planet-killing weapons. We put those weapons into the hands of tyrants and arrogant fools. Instead of finding better, more intellectual resolutions for conflicts, those bastards' first course of action was to press a button and then wipe out the threat in one ego-filled final strike. They should have only been used as last resorts, and kept away from the ones inept at controlling their horrible power. One shell from the planet destroyers was enough to burn the atmosphere from the surface off of any planet, consuming everything organic in the firestorm in produced. The aftermath of the planet-killers was devastation and ruin, leaving nothing alive in its wake. Righteous flame would burn with a mind of its own, seeking out anything that could draw breath. I was there in the orbit above Gardiana when the Southern Fleet unleashed a planet-killer against the beasts swarming over the planet's beautiful surface. I will never forget what I saw...or what I heard as the once great world burned before our very eyes. Never again will I allow anyone to use these terrifying weapons in my presence, even if it costs me and my crew our lives to put a stop to it."  
-Amish Rayland, Captain of the KIA frigate Seraphim Unbound, Recorded in his personal journal years before his death, Date stamp missing_

"Why are you not moving? This cannot be the end for you. There is too much at stake, too much to be done. Why are you not answering me? Your silence is very troublesome Christian. I can sense your life slipping away. I cannot help you. I am you, and if you perish, so will I. Your companions are calling out to you. Can you not hear them? Listen...there, your brother screams your name while the one you love cries for you. Move! Please! Do not let it take you, not again. Do not let it win Christian! Wake up, now!"

Christian's eyes snapped open, his lungs gasped for breath. His other senses were numb. He could not feel, hear or even speak, only see. He could not call out to his friends, nor could he reach out to them. He was trapped beneath the rubble of what used to be the building he was standing on. Tons of concrete and stone had fallen with him, pinning him beneath a collapsed concrete pillar. No matter how hard he tried, he could not move. He suspected it was due to more than just the weight of the rubble on top of his damaged body.

Light was creeping in through cracks between the rubble, hitting the dust in the air, creating wonderful cones of light wherever Christian looked.

A crackle in his ear brought his hearing back abruptly. He flinched at the pain as the voices in his ear assaulted him.

Nathan was calling for him, calling his name. He sounded distraught, but Christian could not answer him. He tried to speak but his voice was not there.

Christian could hear Captain Locke arguing with Gunn about whether they should leave him or stay and give the fallen Wolf a chance. Locke was for staying, and was luckily winning the argument against Gunn.

He heard Gunn say that they could only stay for a few more minutes because they were sitting ducks and were drawing more attention than she felt comfortable with.

It was now or never. Move or get left behind. Stand or stay on the ground forever.

Christian took a deep breath; stinging pain confirmed what he had suspected. His armour was breached in more than a few places. His armour could deflect bullets and hits from mutated fleshy weapons, but it had broken under the force, cracking and splitting open as he had fallen against the concrete and stone. The pillar had dealt the final blow when it fallen on top of his prone body.

At least, from what he could tell from his suit OS, his back and organs were all still functional, his limbs had a few broken bones, but they were being held together by his under suit. Feeling slowly returned to his body, and he was becoming aware of the massive amounts of pain he was feeling even with his suit pumping his system full of painkillers.

Christian tried to move, but he could not. His strength was faltering.

Then he heard her. Jessica was speaking to him, even though he could not reply. She was asking him to answer her, begging him to say something.

But he could not. The pain was just too much to form the words.

She kept begging him, and the more she begged the more he sensed the feeling in his body returning. He could slowly move his fingers, then he could move his armoured feet slightly.

Alarm tones sounded in his ear, his suit OS reporting damage to his armour and body, but he shrugged it off as he tried to rise.

Christian put everything he had into the first movement, using his feet to find purchase in the rubble. He lifted the pillar with his legs and then slid his arms up and underneath the heavy stone pillar. He was holding it just above his chest, like he was about to bench press the heavy piece of stone and concrete.

He roared voiceless at first as he lifted the thing that had pinned him down. The suit around him scraped and sparked against the rubble.

Little by little he was winning, power and sheer determination to survive fuelling his body.

His voice returned just as he lifted the heavy pillar free, letting it tumble over his head, freeing his damaged body.

Everyone heard the roar, over the squad radio and even over the drop ships whining engines.

"Son of a..." was all Rivers could get out before Nathan spoke.

"Christian?" he yelled more than asked.

"Hurt...I need to get out," Christian said.

"You need to climb, look up brother." Nathan's voice was filled with hope again.

"I...I see light. Where are you?" Christian asked. He was confused. His body was in so much pain that it disorientated his senses and clouded his mind.

"Right above you, just climb, we will wait for you. But do it now!"

Christian grunted a response. He stepped on top of the closest rubble pile and looked for a way up. A crack in his visor made it hard to see, but he noticed a way up, blocked only by a few pieces of metal frame and mangled substructure.

He did not hesitate any longer. He started climbing while ignoring the pain and all of the alarms going off in his helmet. There were just too many things wrong with him and his suit to worry about it now. All he needed and wanted to do was go up, and so that is all he did.

Up he went, painfully pulling his weight up. Hands gripping wearily to handholds, his legs were aching as he lifted his weight upwards.

But the universe always had an ace up its sleeve for dire situations like the one Christian found himself in. Christian took a moment to rest, just a few seconds, but it was enough for his senses to focus on the scrambling noise far below him. He almost laughed when he looked down into the darkness where he had been trapped before.

A few monsters had found their way into the collapsed building, and were now watching the hurt Titan climb to safety.

There was a moment that both Christian and the monsters below him froze, just looking at one another. Christian saw the understanding dawn on the beasts' faces.

The mutants rushed up the shaft Christian was climbing up, moving fast as they went after the Titan. Christian sprang into action just as the first monster started climbing, increasing his pace. The pain was worse, but he still ignored it as much as he could, he kept his eyes on the light above him, focusing on it instead of the things below.

Christian reached the top and lifted a slab of concrete away, revealing the blue sky to his burning vision. He wasted no time, crawling out of the hole, rolling away and getting to his feet. A sharp claw reached for him from the hole as he rolled away, gouging a chunk of concrete out mere inches away from Christian's body.

Christian found himself on a relatively flat piece of the collapsed roof. The Maiden waited for him less than fifty feet away, hovering just on the edge of the destroyed building.

He risked a glance behind him and saw the creatures squeeze out of the hole he had come out of, and to make things worse more monsters were scurrying over the rubble towards him. There were hundreds of the beasts, all heading for him. He was a prime target, and they were intent on catching one of the prized Titans - not that they knew what that meant. All they knew was that the flesh inside the Titan armour was going to be a delicacy, and they all wanted a piece of him.

Christian gritted his teeth and took off, sprinting at full speed towards the Maiden. Behind him the beasts clawed and salivated as they chased him, closing the distance rapidly.

Nathan was hanging from the open cargo door of the Maiden, his hand outstretched.

Christian noticed as he ran toward Nathan that he would have to jump to reach his brother, the Maiden was hovering out of reach of the monsters if they tried to jump toward it. He did not know if he would be able to make it, but he would have to try.

"Jump Christian! Reach for me!" Nathan yelled.

Christian took his last few steps on New Horizon at full sprint, his body aching almost unbearably. His left leg faltered just as he reached the edge.

And then he jumped.

Nathan caught him. Mimicking the personal insignia on Christian's battered bicep. Two armoured hands clasped together, two brothers with endless issues, but forever loyal.

Cheers went up from the Wolves who saw Nathan make the catch. Bear had been close to losing his own grip on the handholds attached to the side of the cargo compartment while he tried to reach for his brother. Pyoter had steadied the Lieutenant by securing his arm with his own strong, armoured hands. Xander stood ready behind Nathan to either jump for the rookie if Nathan missed or to hold on to him in case he lost his balance.

They had formed what looked like a human chain behind Nathan as the Titan screamed for his brother to jump.

What was only a second or two felt like a lifetime to everyone else. Christian's left leg had almost cost him the distance to make the jump, but he had just enough momentum to carry him far enough and into the waiting grasp of Nathan's powerful grip.

Christian finally blacked out from the pain just as Nathan wrenched his damaged body upward and into the cargo hold of the Maiden of Flame.

"Hit it Gunn! We have him!" Locke ordered the annoyed pilot in the cockpit of the Maiden.

The drop ship's door closed and the ship climbed instantly. Around the Maiden her escorts formed up, all of them climbing into the blue heavens towards the waiting Hyperion.

No-one looked back at the beasts that had been following Christian, their fates were already sealed within their mutated flesh.

Christian regained consciousness after he felt something slap the side of his helmet. Nathan was standing over him, checking his brother's vitals as the drop ship rocked back and forth from the ascent back into the void above Santor. "Ouch," he said.

"By the state of you, ouch is the least of your problems," Rivers said from the side, his helmet removed, showing his concerned face to the rookie Titan.

"Are we all safe?" Christian asked.

"Worry about yourself right now Corporal Quinn, but yes, all of the Wolves are safe and the Lancers will live on." Locke's head turned towards Jessica, who was trying to get next to Christian's prone body, but she was struggling due to the other Titans surrounding him. "It looks likes the doctor wants to give you a once over."

Christian sighed with relief as he listened to Locke speak. Everyone was safe, even Jay by the sound of it. His body relaxed more when Jessica finally crouched next to him, laying her hands on his cracked visor.

Jessica looked at the Titans around Christian. "Help me get this off," she said, her tired hands fiddling for the release button hidden underneath Christian's chin.

Nathan helped the doctor, removing his brother's helmet slowly, revealing Christian's bloody and beaten face.

Xander, who was looking down at the rookie, chuckled slightly. "Well, at least I am the pretty one again," he said.

"Nonsense, we all know Rivers is the handsome one," Christian replied.

Everyone except Tristan and Jessica laughed at the joke; they were more concerned with his wellbeing than the attempt to lighten the mood inside the Maiden's cargo hold.

Jessica checked Christian's vision, her hair draping over his face as she listened to his ragged breathing. Her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke. "Once we get to where we are going, you are not leaving my site until you are better. Is that clear?" she said.

Christian knew better than to argue, so instead he just smiled and reached with his right hand for his neck. He searched for something, clumsily clasping at a chain hidden underneath his suit. He pulled it free and let it fall to his chest in front of Jessica.

Her face changed almost instantly from concern to pure happiness. She knew the necklace, it was hers. She started crying, tears of joy rolling down her face as she leaned forward and kissed Christian on his bleeding lips.

"Oh Shit," Xander said, "don't look now, the rookie is getting lucky."

"No time for that rookie," Locke added. "We are nearing the Hyperion."

Just as Locke finished speaking Gray's voice broke over the radio. "Good to see all of you again, even if there are fewer of my fighters than there were before. This will be a scoop and scoot Gabriel. We are leaving as soon as you are on-board. Do your best not to get shot down so close to being rescued." Gray waited for a response, leaving the channel open.

Locke could hear the Hyperion taking fire in the background. "We will do our best," he replied.

"Good, because we aren't leaving without any of you," Gray said before cutting the link.

"Hang on to your nuts Wolves. Things might get a little bumpy," Locke said to his squad.

All of them braced themselves, on the Maiden and on the other drop ships flanking her. They were almost home, just a few more minutes and then...well no-one knew exactly what would happen after they reached the Hyperion, but whatever it was it would probably be worse than the fight on New Horizon.

"Are you close?" Gray asked.

"Less than a minute away," Gunn replied.

The relentless attacks from the traitors on the Hyperion were letting up slightly as the Stygian Council moved ever closer. Gray had no doubt in his mind that the Stygian Council and that bastard Vincent wanted to personally destroy the Hyperion. He was calling off his slaves to deal the death blow - not that Gray would give him the opportunity to kill his ship.

Guns belonging to the last two remaining vessels that had formed the blockade had finally fallen silent. One had been silenced by a barrage of magnetic cannons from an enemy vessel, breaking it apart as its crew suffocated and froze in the open void. The last blockade vessel perished when its entire command crew was annihilated by a well-aimed torpedo from a squadron of heavy bombers. It had kept firing even though its captain had been exterminated, but the traitors had cut out its heart, and slowly it was picked apart by the enemy's plethora of weaponry. Its name was the Behemoth's Heart, and its death was an honourable one. It had fought on without leadership, its crew were all heroes in Gray's eyes, and if he ever got the chance he would tell others the tale of the great vessel and its gallantry.

There was nothing between the Hyperion and the enemy now. All allied vessels had either been destroyed or had run with whatever they had rescued from the surface of New Horizon.

It was just the Hyperion that had stayed behind, waiting for its lost friends to come home. Gray would not leave anyone behind that could be rescued. Even if the planet was being overrun by the Beast, and the traitors were killing innocent civilians on New Horizon's surface, Gray still had hope that more would come to the planet's aid well after the current battle was over.

"Incoming hail sir," Remy said at Gray's side. She was already strapped into her chair, ready to depart and leave the horrors of the last few days behind them. "It's from the Stygian Council..." her words trailed off, her disbelief obvious at the idea of Lord Vincent stopping to gloat, or make matters worse with his terrible presence.

"This should be interesting. That son of a bitch can't let anyone else have the last say," Gray said before he half nodded to Remy to make the connection and put it up on his display.

Once again the screen in front of Gray crackled and fizzed, slowly focusing on Lord Vincent's throne and his determined, but gaunt face.

"Captain Gray. Well done," Lord Vincent said before Gray could say anything.

"I don't have time for your shit, Victor. What do you want? Haven't you done enough already? Or do you just want to boast about your treacherous actions?" Gray said. He was showing his anger without noticing it. Gray prided himself on being able to remain stone-faced in dire times, but Lord Vincent's arrogance was just too much for him to ignore.

"I want you all to witness something before you skulk away like the vermin that you are," Vincent replied calmly. The Lord of the North showed no emotion, remaining dead still as he spoke, his gloved hands resting on the armrests of his throne.

Gray's mind was racing. Vincent's words were heavy with meaning. What did he want them to witness. "You will not get your claws into my ship and my crew. Do your worst!" Gray said, his anger bubbling over for the first time in many years.

Vincent smiled at Gray's reaction. His lips parted, exposing his pristine teeth, grinning like a mad man at Gray. "You old fool," he said. "You and your crew are nothing but insects to me. You are nothing but the shit I scrape from my boot after I have crushed you with my heel. Do not flatter yourself. I want you to witness something far grander than the destruction of your precious vessel."

Remy suddenly stirred, the display on her lap was blurting sirens. "Captain! Sensors are reporting a massive energy spike from his ship!"

"Let me show you that my words are not just idle threats. Look upon my power and witness what I am capable of!" Lord Vincent was visibly excited, grinning even wider.

Gray rose from his seat slowly, his eyes fixed on the viewports at the head of the Hyperion's bridge.

"No..." Gray breathed.

"Yes!" Vincent said excitedly. "I want you to remember this day forever. Whenever you close your eyes, these images will haunt you for the rest of your miserable, insignificant life!"

"It can't be" Remy said at Gray's side.

"I am afraid it is my dear. Fire!" Vincent ordered enthusiastically.

Bright light built up inside the dormant fusion cannon built into the belly of the Stygian Council. The dormant weapon believed by many to be incapable of ever firing again, was preparing to fire and rise from its metallic coffin. The weapon's heat sinks extended from the cannon's sides, glowing lava red against the darkness of the void. Rings of steam formed by the heat sinks venting heat into the cold void, freezing as the nothingness transformed water vapour into solid ice.

"There is nowhere you can hide from me Captain Gray. Run as fast as you can. My reckoning will catch up to you sooner or later." Vincent waved his hand dismissively, cutting the link between the two vessels.

Gray watched in stunned silence as the Stygian Council's fusion cannon fired. Lord Vincent's vessel was thousands of miles away from New Horizon, but it took the planet-killing shell only a few moments to reach the infested planet's surface. It hit ground in the northern hemisphere of New Horizon, far to the west of Santor. The fusion cannon's shell was the size of a small cargo vessel, filled to the brim with deadly life-consuming fire. When it hit, it carved a crater into New Horizon's surface before exploding, its thick casing protecting its terrible contents until detonation.

The first sign of the planet-killing weapon's blast was the clouds above its landfall pushed aside as if an ancient god had reached down with his hand and parted the skies. The inextinguishable fire followed soon after, erupting from the impact site.

"Everyone is on-board sir!" a communications officer announced.

Gray did not hear. His eyes were fixated on what was unfolding before his eyes. He could not believe what he was seeing.

"Captain Locke wants to know what is going on," Remy said at Gray's side.

Gray did not reply. He was still frozen in shocked silence.

"Dammit Remy, if he can't answer me, you can!" Locke demanded over the radio. The Titans were still on-board the Maiden, remaining inside the drop ship's cargo hold.

"It's too...I can't," Remy replied. Her eyes were filled with tears.

Locke was ready to disembark from the Maiden and make his way to the bridge. If Gray was not going to push the button, he sure as hell would. Every second they wasted gave the enemy more opportunities to move in and surround them.

Locke was about to disengage the door lock when Gray finally spoke.

"Locke?" Gray asked. His voice was filled with anger and pain. It sounded as if the captain of the Hyperion had reached the end of his rope, as if he had stared into oblivion and seen the nothingness waiting there for him.

"Punch it Willis. Let's get the hell out of here!" Locke replied.

Gray did not reply. He fell back into his command chair and with a tired hand pushed the button to belonging to the waiting BEAM drive's activation mechanism. He remained silent, wordlessly watching the viewports, closing his eyes to burn the memory into his mind as the BEAM drive fired once again. It would carry them far away, to relative safety, for now.

The bright light from the Hyperion's departure gladdened Lord Vincent. The Hyperion's interference was ruining the show for him. He wanted no distractions while he watched New Horizon burn.

Most of the northern hemisphere was already covered in righteous fire, consuming everything organic it came in contact with. Lord Vincent had fired the weapon without any regard or thought for his own men still on the surface of the planet. The firestorm gained speed and ferocity as it crept over New Horizon's beautiful landscape, leaving nothing but smoke and ash behind. The cleansing flame from the fusion cannon killed without pausing, indiscriminately scorching beast and any surviving humans, leaving nothing but husks of burnt flesh behind.

"Sir?" an officer standing in front of Lord Vincent's throne, bowed slightly in respect, or fear, for his master. "The Device is ready on your order."

"No. I want it to burn. Everyone that passes this damned sector will bear witness to what awaits them should they stand in my way. We will use Project Black on our next target," Lord Vincent said dismissively.

The Lord of the North kept watching New Horizon burn, his eyes mirroring the zeal the flames were now showing the enemies of humankind.

By the time the Stygian Council moved on to its next destination New Horizon would be no more. A once great world, the centre of technology and research for sectors in every direction would be left to smoulder in its own embers. Its beautiful landscape reduced to nothing but dust and smouldering ash. Billions of lives were lost, and the planet would never be able to sustain life again.

Even the bacteria, invisible and microscopic, working behind the scenes of all living organism, perished in the firestorm.

New Horizon's death heralded the dawn of a dark period in humankind's future, only a fraction of our race would survive to see the conclusion to events that would change the course of humankind's path through time, forever.

The Dawn of Extinction had finally arrived.

# Epilogue  
Hyperion  
BEAM Jump in process  
Location: Unknown

Emotions were high and nerves were raw on-board the Hyperion. Everywhere Locke walked, through the corridors of his home ship, past engineers and soldiers, the effect of New Horizon's death could be seen on their tired faces.

Many crew members that called the Hyperion home were from New Horizon. Now the Hyperion was the only thing they had left. It was a small consolation prize, and they were all coming to the same realization \- the universe was a horribly large place and their safe haven had shrunk considerably.

Locke should have felt his home planet's death more than others. It was after all part of him, part of his legacy. His ancestor, the great Star Explorer Captain Locke, had been the first to set foot on its then alien surface. He had helped to build the first colonies on New Horizon. Locke's bloodline was so deeply rooted in the foundations of that world that when the world bled, so did his family. He was the only one left now, his lineage burned from the face of the universe forever, the last in a long line of honoured men and women dedicated to the preservation of humankind.

But he did not feel the loss as the others did. He would not allow it to drag him down; wallowing in the catastrophe they had all suffered through, and were suffering through. Locke chose to use the anger and sadness he felt to stoke the furnace inside his soul, further strengthening his resolve against his enemies. He shaped the turbulent emotions he felt into determination.

Locke took a deep breath as he reached the doors leading to the Hyperion's bridge, pausing for a moment before he pressed the button to open the door.

From behind him Nathan appeared from an unlit corridor leading to the medical bays deeper into the Hyperion's belly. He said nothing, stopping to give Locke the moment to himself.

"You are still terrible at sneaking up on something," Locke said to Nathan, looking at his second in command over his shoulder.

Nathan snorted but said nothing.

"How is he?" Locke asked.

"Not good. The good doctor hasn't left his side, but nobody can say if he will fully recover. He will live, but how long is anyone's guess. He might die tomorrow or years from now in battle." Nathan folded his arms, leaning his weight against the corner of the corridor he had appeared from.

"Annoying, isn't it?" Locke said. He sighed after he spoke.

"You have no bloody idea. I will have to persuade them to give me answers soon, and it might get messy."

"Just clean up when you are done. I have enough on my plate already."

"Speaking of which," Nathan said, pointing at the door in front of Locke. "Shall we?" he asked.

Locke nodded and opened the door with a button press. Both Titans entered the bridge, both wearing military fatigues. It had been more than two weeks since their departure from New Horizon, and they had spent their time in the recovery tanks. The dreams during those days were the worst the Titans ever experienced, and all of them carried the weight of all the lives lost on New Horizon on their shoulders.

Gray had called the meeting, inviting everyone he thought could help plan their next course of action.

The Wolves were there, dressed in the same fatigues Locke was wearing. Christian was obviously missing, but Corporal Jay had proudly volunteered to stand in Corporal Quinn's place until the damaged Titan was back on his feet.

Gray was hunched over the command table in the centre of the bridge, Remy standing next to him, moving her petite hands over the displays mounted inside the command table. She was relaying information to Gray, and he was listening intently to everything she was saying. The lights from the displays and the lights hidden in the table's metal sides cast an eerie glow on the gathering Gray had called.

An old space pirate named Nash, who Locke had met only a few days earlier, was also there, flanked by Sam, both of them wearing dirty engineer overhauls. The highest ranked Lancer that had survived the battle of Santor, Diaz, had also been invited. The Lancer was in full battle armour, standing at attention in respect of the superiors he now found himself in the presence of.

"Welcome," Gray said to Locke and Nathan as soon as he noticed them approaching the command table.

Both Titans nodded in reply to his words, silently taking up their positions next to the other Wolves.

"Good. Everyone is here. Before we begin our meeting, there has been a request. Second Lieutenant Diaz?" Gray said.

"Sir?" Diaz replied.

"Commander Sabian, during his lucid moments, has promoted you to Captain. Congratulations Captain. You will take over command of the Lancers until ordered otherwise," Gray said. He nodded at Remy. She stepped forward and gave Diaz a wooden box containing his captain's insignia.

"I am honoured sir. Thank you," Diaz replied. The man was clearly in shock, but he accepted the promotion without hesitation.

Corporal Jay was the first to clap, he had fought with the man for many years and he had been instrumental during the battle on the rooftop.

Everyone else followed Jay lead, applauding Diaz's promotion.

"Now down to business," Gray paused, leaning forward, resting his old meaty hands on the side of the command table. "I am open to any and all suggestions."

"We run, as far and fast as we can," Sam blurted out. He was not a coward, but to him that was the most logical course of action.

Gray chuckled slightly. "Aye, that would be the smart thing to do. What about the rest of our people still fighting against the Beast and soon Lord Vincent? Do we leave them to their own fate? Or do we help them?"

Sam realized his plan was not the right one, nodding at Gray's words, agreeing with them fully. They could not just turn and run away.

"We hide, re-supply, and then we take the fight to the enemy," Xander said.

"Agreed," Nathan said from Locke's side. "We make them bleed for what they have done."

"And then what?" Rivers asked.

"Then we kill him and blow up his ship, what else?" Nathan replied sarcastically.

Locke spoke next, silencing his Wolves with his words. "Brave, but foolish Lieutenant. Even if we could get near enough to him to kill him, or even find a way to destroy his ship, it will cost us too much. No, we have to stay alive and strike when the time is right, when our resources are strong enough to support our plans. We cannot win if we are dead, can we?"

Nathan reluctantly agreed. Locke had a point. It would be foolish to throw everything against the impenetrable wall that was Lord Vincent and his fleet.

"Earth," Pyoter said.

Everyone looked at him in unison. All of them equally surprised at the giant Titan's suggestion.

"Why would they care what Lord Vincent did outside of their solar system? Those bureaucrats crave wealth and power probably more than Vincent does. Not to mention that none of us have heard anything from that sector for more than a decade," Gray said.

"They might feel different if their lives were in danger," Locke added. "Even if they crave only wealth and power, they can't spend it if they are dead. Most of them would piss themselves if they knew what was going on in the outer sectors. Their isolation could work to our advantage."

"Earth Prime's security is tighter than an ape's asshole trapped in a lion's cage. Without a summons or invite from the council we will never get in. They might even destroy us before we get the chance to state our case. You know what patrols the void around our home world. It's suicide Gabriel." Gray shifted back, folding his arms as he looked at the Titan captain.

Locke had no answer to Gray's words. He was right, it was suicide. Earth Prime was unreachable, a fortress built to keep everything out that could threaten their way of live. He was about to concede Gray's point when someone else spoke.

"I know a way," Nash said.

Everyone looked at the retired space pirate, waiting for the man to speak.

"It's very tricky, but you lot seem to know what you are doing. I can show you the way in, through a small gap, right into the heart of that system," Nash said.

"And why would we believe a Rogue like you? How do we know you aren't just bullshitting us for your own personal gain?" Gray asked Nash.

"Because you have no other choice, and look at me, I am minutes from dying, what do I have to lose? Besides, the women on Earth Prime are worth the trip," Nash said, smiling at everyone that was looking at him.

Locke looked at Gray; a conversation took place between the two, wordlessly they decided with only a few looks and head gestures. "Show us," Locke said.

The Grim Wolves will return in the Dawn of Extinction, the next epic chapter in the Gamma Nine saga.

# About the Author

A bearded turnip gifted a human suit by beings from another universe. He spends his days writing and working at his day job. Day-dreaming about epic stories and far off planets consumes his almost every thought. He lives in a loving home with his partner and their feline overlord.

Follow @GammaNineSeries for more info and updates on Twitter.  

#GammaNineSeries  
www.gamma-nine.com

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