

FLESH AND STEEL

Book Two: FIRST ASSAULT

by

Kliment Dukovski

Copyright © 2014 by Kliment Dukovski

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

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

VALERIA

Shadows danced in the dark corridors of Burnum as Commander Valeria and Doctor Modius moved their flashlights in sync with their hurrying steps. They were in the infirmary when they saw the broadcast from Palatine. It was there that they heard the emperor address his people.

It was a trick, she tried to convince herself then. It has to be.

Now she wasn't certain anymore. Her mind raced from the moment they found Lucius to the moment she saw the usurper broadcast. But the usurper had Lucius's golden body. When could he acquire it if he was indeed an usurper and not Lucius himself? Everyone knew that it was impossible to make a copy of that perfect body of his. It was forbidden by the gods.

No. It was a trick. My father said it was Lucius on Timor. It was we who failed to reach the emperor on time. I will not fail him again.

She had to hurry and reach the hangar bay if she was to keep her word. Before it was too late.

"We are going, doctor, this is not for a debate," she said when she realized the doctor was still following her.

"But- but what about the boy? I just stabilized his condition. He's not ready to travel yet."

Valeria started to like the boy, she had to admit. It was a helpless little thing. The sight of him stirred an instinct in her, something she didn't know she had. It was a desire to take care of him, to protect him. But there were more important things to consider than that.

She stopped and turned to look at the doctor, her flashlight beaming in his metal face. "Are you trying to tell me that the boy's life is worth more than our emperor?"

He blinked, adding a dark layer over his green eyes to compensate for the light. "No, commander, of course not, but the emperor..."

"...should've been back by now. Aquila is one of the finest battleships in the Imperial fleet. I doubt a single merchant vessel would be trouble to raid. Something's wrong, doctor, I know it is, and I'm taking the fleet with me to find out what happened."

"But–" the doctor tried to protest, but Valeria turned her back on him and continued her stride toward the hangar bay.

Clodius – she sent – you have exactly one hour to prepare the battleship for our departure.

Clodius quickly replied – That might be impossible, commander. I am still on Burnum. I would need twenty minutes at least to reach the ship and then ten more minutes to reach engineering. Add another five minutes to run diagnostics, and only then I would be able to start working on the remaining issues.

Valeria didn't care – Then you better start going. You have fifty-nine minutes left.

What about the boy? – Clodius sent again – Doctor Modius might still need me.

Modius can handle himself. Fifty-eight – She wasn't going to argue anymore – Fail me, Clodius, and I will make sure you stay on Burnum. On the outside. Forever.

There was a short pause before she got his final transmission – I am on my way to the battleship, Commander Valeria.

The doctor's footsteps were closing behind, his flashlight making frantic moves on the bulkheads.

"You have less than one hour to transfer your equipment and the boy on the battleship," Valeria said without turning. "Make use of that time."

The doctor grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Commander," he said with a lowered voice, "I know you want to make your father proud with your service to the throne, and I know how much you care about Captain Arrius–"

"Don't go there, doctor, I am warning you."

His green eyes looked away. "I apologize, commander, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

The doctor looked at her. "The boy is important to us, can you not see? The cure to our infertility is right there–" he jabbed his thumb behind– "inside the boy. He must survive."

Valeria jerked her arm free and stuck her face in his. "The emperor needs me, doctor," she said, "the captain needs me. If something has happened to them, they will need you as well. Get the boy, get your equipment, and be on that battleship." She turned and disappeared in the darkness. The doctor's footsteps didn't follow her anymore.

All personnel prepare for departure – she sent to her fleet – we leave in fifty-seven. She then transmitted to the remaining captains – I want all of you in the battleship's CIC in ten. Be there.

She received reply from fifteen merchant ships and two fighters. The rest were gone after they saw the usurper broadcast. They didn't believe he was a fraud. And how could they? It was Lucius Cornelius Venator on the balcony. Even Valeria was tricked by the sight of him. His perfect body of Imperial steel and gold, the medals on his chest with the Imperial eagle, the golden flames on his chin, cheeks, and hair, they were all authentic enough. Even the way he spoke, the fire in his words – if she didn't know any better she would've believed it was the same man. Now that man needed her, she was certain, there was no other way to explain why they weren't back yet.

Commander Valeria reached the hangar bay with head full of doubts and worries. They had to depart even sooner than the deadline she gave her men as the deserter captains grew more with every passing second. She was certain that soon they would broadcast their location, if they have not done it already. It was something she could not allow to happen.

Valeria did try to stop her captains from deserting, it was true. She even threatened them with destruction of their ships, but eight out of ten fighters decided to flee, and the weapons on the new battleship weren't operational yet. There was nothing she could do to stop them. And now if she didn't see the rest of her captains in person, she feared they would leave her as well. Valeria was determined to prevent that.

I won't fail him again.

The hangar bay was spacious and mostly empty. There were only three shuttles and a dozen soldiers preparing for departure. They saluted her. One of them escorted her to the closest shuttle – one of the fully-automated transports that didn't need a pilot.

"Welcome, commander," said the computerized voice. "What will be your destination?"

Valeria slumped on the metal seat, her worries weighing her down. "Take me to the battleship," she said, thinking how much they needed a name for it.

"Acknowledged, commander. Estimated time of arrival seven minutes."

"Just get on with it," she said as if it will make the shuttle go faster.

In that same instant the engines kicked in and lifted the shuttle above the soldiers' heads. The one who escorted her looked up, but then the shuttle accelerated and he turned into nothing but a black-gray dot.

Valeria was staring through the porthole, watching the outpost shrink among the asteroids. But her mind was still there, still inside the infirmary. She couldn't help but think about the little creature of flesh and metal. She honestly wanted him to survive, to grow up and live his life until the end of days, if it was possible for him to grow anymore at all. Being a mother was all she ever wanted. She hoped that once the war was over she would have time to found a family like the ordinary people did. However, the brain facilities were gone for centuries. It was impossible to have a kid without a new brain.

Not anymore.

The boy was a gift from the gods, she knew. It was the only boy she ever saw in her life, how could it not be a gift? It was half organic, it was true, but she didn't care – it was a boy, a living boy, and that's what mattered. She only hoped he would survive the transfer and the upcoming flight even though she knew the odds were heavily against that.

"We have arrived at your destination, commander," said the computerized voice.

Valeria didn't wait to be told twice. She hurried out of the shuttle's ramp and into the battleship's hangar. There she found groups of Bion-looking men and cybernetic humans transferring equipment, cargo crates, batteries and fuel cells, bundles of wires and cables, and everything else they could carry from the previous ships they served. She couldn't help but notice a gigantic man with organic skin over his face and arms. He carried one massive crate all by himself with incredible ease. The rest of the crew were busy and focused on their own assignments. Most of them didn't even notice her as she rushed by. Valeria wondered for a moment if His Highness was right about having Frang and his men aboard the battleship. She didn't trust him at all, nor did she like him. He was a smuggler and a pirate and he said he traded with Bion tribes. No Imperial captain would ever trade with their enemies. It made Valeria question his motives. But she was not going to let him betray her emperor and his cause.

The CIC was two decks above the hangar bay, surrounded by a metal shell which made it the safest place on the ship. Two heavily-armed soldiers stood guard at the door. They parted and let the commander in. The room was mostly empty when she entered. Loud complaints turned to silence. Some of the captains nodded to Valeria. Others gave sullen looks to her. She took a seat next to Frang, to keep a closer eye on him, and then she looked at the other captains across the table.

"Are we waiting for anyone else?" she asked, dreading about the answer. The men seemed clueless. Some of them shrugged.

Fifteen captains, she thought to herself. That's all I am left with. Then the door opened and two young men in military uniforms rushed in.

"Apologies, commander. We had trouble landing on your ship," said one of them and they both took their seats. "Most of your automatic guiding systems are still inoperative," he added. "We had to do it manually."

Valeria nodded to him. At least I still have two fighters, she thought with a dose of relief.

"Gentlemen," she put her hands on the table, "the latest events caused division among our forces." Forces... such a powerful word but completely useless in our case. "You must understand that the man you saw on the transmission was not Emperor Lucius Cornelius Venator. It was an imposter, a trickery made by the usurper to weaken our resolve."

Some of the captains shifted in their seats. "He seemed real enough," muttered someone.

Valeria didn't try to find out who it was, she just replied, "He seemed real enough. I cannot state how correct you are. Whoever made that copy of him did a remarkable job. But I assure you, it was not the emperor."

"How do you know?" asked another captain. "As far as I can tell, we are following a psychopathic cripple who thinks he is the emperor while the true Lucius Cornelius Venator is preparing to end the war as we speak."

The CIC turned dark in anger. A spotlight gave focus to the captain who said the words. Ovidius, captain of the Sand Storm – said her cranial computer. Valeria narrowed her eyes and gave the captain a long stare under her eyebrows. "If I were you, Captain Ovidius, I would carefully consider my next words. Treason does not go unpunished."

Captain Ovidius sat relaxed in his seat. His eyes stared back at her, completely unmoved by her words. Valeria wondered what would qualify as a good death for this traitor; to sever his head maybe, and then place it in a tiny box so she could send it to suffocate in space. No. That would be too soft.

Another voice violated the stare down. "An unpleasant question it may be, commander, but it still needs an answer."

Valeria turned her gaze at the other captain who said the words. Another spotlight gave focus to him. Before she could order his execution, the same captain said, "What if Captain Ovidius is right? How do you know it was Lucius Cornelius Venator you found on Timor?"

No. I will not order his execution. I will execute him myself.

Her hand moved under the table, her fingers curled around the pistol on her waist. But then she shook her head – the CIC lit back up, the spotlights over the captains disappeared. The memory of her father took over. It was still fresh. The man she loved, the man who loved her back unconditionally, was vivid before her eyes.

"Because Admiral Valerain Maximus was attending the final council meeting before the riots took place," she said, her fingers letting go of the pistol. "He sent a transmission to Captain Arrius, saying the prince was on his way to Timor. Aquila was supposed to support him, to protect him, but..." She lowered her head. "We failed." The moon base was riddled with craters, she remembered. The satellite dish was half gone, almost as if some gigantic rodent had a tasty snack. Every wall had collapsed by the bombardment, burying anyone who dared enter. Valeria moved her gaze around the captains. "The Imperial forces had leveled the moon base when we arrived. I was dispatched to lead a small team on the surface, to try and find the prince. All we found was his head – the Imperial steel and gold deformed from the explosions, his skin melted and vaporized – but it was him, there was no doubt about it." She could still remember how she fought the urge to scream when the man she admired the most was being turned into nothing more than unrecognizably-deformed ball of metal. "Captain Arrius summoned us back before we could finish our search for the prince's companions. We were told that the Praetorian Guard was running a cleaning operation inside the fleet. Every man who thought that the Praetorians betrayed Emperor Titus was executed. Aquila was next on their list." She paused for a moment, her eyes moving from one captain to another. Some of them listened wide-eyed to her story, others nodded with somber expressions. "Gentlemen. Captain Arrius said he knew every one of you when he asked you to join the emperor's cause. He said he would entrust his life in you." She turned to Captain Frang. I wonder how you came to be here if that was the case. Her gaze swept over the captains once again. "Now return that trust in Captain Arrius. He needs you now more than ever – the emperor needs you more than ever." Some of the captains seemed convinced, but there were still few who nodded without saying a word, still calculating their positions. But the fact they didn't leave yet was good enough for her. "You heard the transmission from Palatine," she went on. "You know what the usurper has done. We cannot let his plan unfold. The future of Palatine, the future of humanity, is in your hands, gentlemen. Help me restore the emperor to his rightful throne and end this madness."

There was a pondering silence for a moment. Then Ovidius put his hands on the table. He leaned forward. "What you say may be true, commander, I cannot deny that. But how do you plan to defeat this usurper with one battleship that isn't fully operational, another battleship that is missing, and fifteen merchant ships?"

One of the fighter pilots leaned back on his seat, his metal arm pushing him slightly off the table – Carvinius, pilot of fighter ship Atom. "You forget the fighters," he said. "They are worth more than your merchant snails."

Valeria held back her smile. "The former plan still holds, captain," she said, turning to face Ovidius. "We will raid ships and bases and outposts until we are well-armed, then we will spread the word of the emperor's existence and we will increase our numbers. If we are lucky, the Praetorians will see their mistake and end the usurper's life before we can engage in combat."

"We cannot rely on luck," muttered the captain and shook his head. It was obvious that it wasn't something he was hoping to hear.

"In half an hour we must depart," Valeria said.

"Are we going to raid another ghostly outpost?" asked another captain. This one had patches of differently-colored skin over his face, black and white like a chessboard sewed with white stitches – Herennius, acting captain of the Falling Star. Another pirate, thought Valeria, right hand of Captain Lartius.

Valeria stared at him for a long moment, wondering how to say her next words. And then she just blurted out, "We are going to search for Aquila." Those words brought murmur inside the CIC. Valeria was afraid that all she said before to keep them here had sunk under water.

"I knew it!" someone said. "The Aquila is gone and so is our cause!"

The murmur slowly grew into clamor.

"Gentlemen!" Valeria tried to calm them down. "Gentlemen, please–!"

There was a thud. It was loud enough to make Valeria think the battleship was under attack, but it also made silence fall into the CIC. Frang had brought his fist down on the table, and he stood up. Valeria's hand instinctively moved over the pistol grip on her waist. If this pirate defies me I will shoot him, she thought, I swear to gods.

But to her surprise he said, "You whimpering pieces of rusty metal. You call yourselves captains? Cowards, I say! Your emperor has need of you and all you do is seek excuses to leave his service!"

What are you up to, Frang?

"And you dare call us cowards?" Captain Herennius stood up, his finger pointed at Captain Frang. "Look at you, you Bion scum! You–"

Frang climbed over the table. "Come here you coward! I will recycle you!" He crawled toward the captain.

And then a weapon went off.

Frang froze in place. Herennius raised his hands. All eyes turned to Valeria who was holding the pistol pointed up. Smoke still plumed out of the nozzle and the hole on the overhead. I will start executing you, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. It was not the way to win them over. "Gentlemen, we are too few to quarrel among ourselves. Keep your anger for our enemies. Gods know we have enough of them already."

Suddenly, the entire CIC turned red with blinking lights. The sound of the alarm howled from above. Valeria received a message from the command bridge – All units report to your battle stations. I repeat. All units report to your battle stations.

"What's happening?" asked Captain Ovidius.

"Whatever it is, it can't be good," said another.

The rest of them stood up and started giving commands to their ships.

Valeria rushed out the door, pushing two captains to let her pass, and she headed toward the elevator. Frang and Galerius were right behind her.

She sent to the bridge – Give me full report.

The voice that spoke in her head was female – There is an unknown vessel approaching on our position, commander.

What do you mean unknown? – she sent again.

They have no IFF signature and they are not responding to any of our hails.

Is it Bion? – Valeria sent.

Negative. It is not a Bion vessel.

Valeria cursed under her breath. Whatever it was, it came with a bad timing.

The door to the bridge opened, revealing both Bion-looking and cybernetic men she did not recognize sitting at their computer screens around the command seat. She forgot this was not the Aquila. Nonetheless, she strode past them and took the command seat. Captain Galerius tried to protest, but she said, "I am taking command over the battleship, captain. I hope you don't mind."

"I am better suited for the role," he said.

Valeria didn't have time to argue. "You may be right, captain, but the emperor put me in charge of his fleet until his return. You got his transmission before he left, I believe?"

Captain Galerius opened his mouth and then closed it. He nodded. "Of course, commander," he said. "I am at your disposal."

The unknown ship was now visible on the wide screen on the bridge. It was silvery and elongated and unlike anything Valeria had seen before. It was foreign design to her, and its building materials were brand new like the ship was manufactured yesterday. The hull shimmered from the scattered solar rays in the distance.

"Where did it come from?" she asked.

The flight officer in front of her who was avidly tapping buttons under a small screen replied without turning, "You won't believe this, commander – it came from beyond the system."

She considered that for a moment. "That is impossible. Check again," she said.

The flight officer then turned to face her. Valeria's eyes zoomed on his tag – Ensign Gavius. "I already checked five times," he said. "The ship came from beyond the system, I am absolutely positive."

"Did you calculate its current trajectory?" Valeria asked him.

The ensign turned back to his screen. "It's heading straight for the outpost."

Valeria turned toward a bion-looking woman, sitting to her right. It was the communications officer who sat there on Aquila. "Hail them."

The woman pressed a button, said few words, and then waited. No response. She tried again, waited a little longer. Still nothing. "They are not responding," she said to Valeria.

Valeria turned to her left where the weapon systems officer sat on Aquila. "Do we have any weapons online?" she asked the man.

"Negative," he replied. "Clodius is working on it."

Her eyes moved to another Bion-looking woman next to him – the engineering officer's seat. "What about our engines?" Valeria asked her. "We might need to leave sooner than we had hoped."

"Clodius is working on it," she replied.

"Tell him to work faster," Valeria said. Next she demanded status report from the merchant captains in her fleet. One by one they replied they were in position around the outpost. Something good to hear for a change.

The unknown ship was getting closer, its speed and course steady, almost as if it didn't care about the small fleet standing in its way. It made uncertainty creep in Valeria's mind. Gods know how dangerous this ship is if it isn't swayed by our fleet.

"What are the scans showing?" Valeria asked the electronic warfare officer sitting in front of a large screen with a geometric image of the unknown vessel on it.

"The ship has a powerful core, commander," she said. "But I can't detect any weapons. Either the ship is unarmed or the weapons are something we haven't encountered before."

Valeria sent to her captains – All units prepare for a swarm maneuver. She would send the merchant ships as a fodder until the battleship's weapons come online. They were to harass the ship from close range and keep it occupied by drawing its fire away.

But not all of the captains agreed with that. Ovidius sent – I refuse to let my men die like this. His ship started turning away from the fleet.

Captain Ovidius – Valeria sent – return to your position or I will have you executed for disobedience.

Laughter came in her head along with his words – Do whatever you like, commander. I am leaving one way or another. He also sent some of his emotions; he was self-confident to a point that angered Valeria.

You think I will let you go?

She sent to her fighter – Engage Sand Storm. Take out its engines. She planned to strip away everything that was useful from that traitorous ship and then leave its crew to die on the outskirts of the system. It was what Emperor Lucius would've done.

The reply, however, didn't come. Valeria wondered if her two remaining fighters would stay loyal after that. It was those two ships with true firepower in her fleet. It would be a death warrant for the rest if the fighters decided to leave.

And then she heard the pilot's voice in her head – Acknowledged – was his reply, simple but powerful – Engaging Sand Storm.

Valeria exhaled.

The unknown vessel was now in firing range. Her merchant fleet started swarming their enemy from every direction, firing their close-range turrets at its hull.

"Where are my weapons?" Valeria asked again, louder this time.

The electronic warfare officer turned away from her screen. "Commander," she said, "I am reading a massive power spike inside the vessel – I believe they are powering their weapons."

What sort of weapons? Valeria wasn't sure she wanted to find out. Modius, where are you? – she sent.

I am on my way to the battleship.

You better hurry. We might need to leave the second our engines come online – she sent again.

I understand, commander – was his reply – but I am afraid it will take some time until I prepare the infirmary for the boy. If we leave before I make the necessary modifications, no inertial dampers will keep him from splattering on the bulkheads.

Valeria cursed again. The only thing she could do was stare at the screen and watch the shimmering metal hull of the unknown ship sparkle some explosions. But it was not enough. It was not nearly enough. She wanted it gone, evaporated, before it could threaten her fleet.

"Engines are online!" called the Bion-looking officer. It was music to her ears.

"Prepare..." for departure, Valeria wanted to say, but stopped. How much time do you need, doctor? – she sent.

I don't know, fifteen minutes, twenty, maybe more.

You must do it in five. She couldn't risk losing the battleship and more of her merchant ships for the boy. She couldn't. Gods, help me.

A flash of light, blinding as the sun, lit the screen and caused her to squint. One of her ships disappeared from the sensors. She sprang to her feet. "Report!"

"We just lost Steel Mechanic!" someone replied.

It felt like a deadly blow to her. Steel Mechanic was the only ship in her fleet with engineering parts, and not just that – it was one of her few remaining loyal ships. She hated herself for ordering swarm maneuver and staying here longer than needed. It was time to leave this place, she knew it was, but somehow she couldn't give the order. Not yet.

Modius, hurry up! – she sent. And then to Clodius – give me my weapons, Clodius!

I just gave you your engines, commander. Order retreat or give me more time to work – he sent.

We don't have time!

Well, if you didn't bother me every second you might have had your weapons by now. Let me work.

She was going to smash his head for that.

Another explosion lit the screen.

"We lost Star Gazer!" was the report this time. She accessed her cranial computer for details – Star Gazer, carrying quadcopter parts from Stratonis to Palatine.

Captain Galerius turned to Valeria. "We have to leave, commander. We will lose all ships we have!"

Valeria stood immobile, staring at the screen, at her loyal captains who were sacrificing their lives and the lives of their crew members so she could protect her boy. She knew Galerius was right, she knew she had to leave. Even the emperor would chastise her for losing so many ships for nothing.

"Modius needs more time," she said quietly.

"Modius cannot have more time," Galerius said. "Order retreat, commander."

C'mon, doctor...

Galerius grabbed Valeria's arm, turned her to face him. "We will lose our fleet, commander. Our battle will be lost before it even began–"

And then the electronic warfare officer shouted, "They are preparing for another shot!"

Valeria turned toward the screen. The merchant ships were maneuvering around the unknown vessel. They spiraled up and down and traversed left and right. Some even moved in circles as they fired their weapons on the shiny hull.

Frang moved closer to Galerius. "I am afraid the captain is right, commander," said Frang. He was looming behind Galerius. "We have to leave immediately. We cannot afford to lose another ship."

She could feel the pressure on her, squeezing her body to a point where she could not breathe. It made her feel small and useless and surely breathless. She had to make the right choice and relieve that pressure. Her instinct told her to choose the boy, but her logic, the way her father taught her to think, told her to choose the lives of her men. It was the only way...

But she had already decided.

"Activate electronic countermeasures," she said to the officer to her right. She turned to the pilot, "Full speed forward, ensign. If the enemy vessel fires again, by gods we will give them big enough target. I believe it is time we shared the burden with the other captains."
AILIOS

There was a moan but in Ailios's head it was a needle that dug deeper every time he would hear it. By now it was so deep that it hurt even in silence. Does it feel so awful in Ifrin? he wondered. Was there silence now or was he hearing the moan again? He couldn't tell.

His eyes were clenched shut in an effort to reach some satisfying level of calmness. But then he heard it again, he was certain this time. What else could drive the needle deeper than it already was?

"Would you shut up?" he said. The reply he got was another moan. "For gods' sake..."

His head hurt like it was smacked by a hammer and then dragged on a rocky terrain and his head would bounce on every rock, large and small, and then he was turned upside down so it would drive his blood in his head and his pulsing heartbeat would give him sixty doses of pain each minute. And when that wasn't enough he was pierced by a needle right in the middle of his skull, and it went deeper and deeper and deeper...

"Shut up!"

"He's dying," he heard a voice say. It had an echo with it like it was said in a cave. Or maybe it was Ailios's head that gave the echo?

"Can't he die faster?" Ailios managed to say. His eyes were still shut, but his head started to rock from one side to another. "I can't take it anymore."

"They broke every bone in his body," the voice said with such calmness that frustrated Ailios.

He doesn't even hear the moan, he thought. "They should've broken his jaw."

"And they did."

Ailios tried to open his eyes. It was an effort, a painful, burning effort, but he succeeded. "Where are we?" he asked. It was dark around him, like he was somewhere underground where the sun never got to see this place. He even tried to recall how he got there, but his memories eluded him.

"We are on Timor," said the voice, "in the ancient temple. We are waiting to be executed." Ailios then noticed the eyes in the darkness, staring at him with calmness despite the foreboding.

He remembered the last time he was supposed to be executed. It turned out to be a test. Where's the major to congratulate me now? Ailios wondered. He sent me here. Slowly his stream of thought brought him to Timor. We were looking for a clue, we found the secret corridor... the abominations – they shot me! His stomach clenched as if he experienced the shot once again. His hand instinctively moved over his forehead. He touched his hair first. They've ruined it, he acknowledged in pain. His black mane was smeared and bloodied and thick with grease. Underneath his bangs he felt a nasty bump that was like a pain-inducing button. He bit his screams when he touched it, and then decided not to touch it anymore. It turned out to be worse than the moan. But then he heard it again – the needle twisted in his brain.

Nothing can be worse than the bloody moan.

He let out a deep breath.

His mind was back at the bullet wound on his forehead. He realized how lucky he was that those abominations used projectile weapons, and he thanked the major for the new skin DNA. If it were a beam weapon like the Cyons used, he would've needed a new head by now, no matter if he had thicker skin or not. Thankfully, his improved skin turned out to be quite useful against bullets because the one that got him just bounced off his head and left him with awful headache, but very much alive.

Ailios looked around, his bleary eyes slowly waking up, slowly adapting to the darkness. It was a round room with low ceiling; that much was obvious at first glance. There was only one door. He couldn't see any knobs or buttons or any other way to make it open.

Next to him a body lay sprawled on the floor. Ailios couldn't tell if it was alive or not so he poked it with a finger. The body moaned as if to give him an answer to that – a very painful answer.

Ailios struggled to stand up, to get away from the guy next to him and his moaning, but all he did was stagger back down and smack the back of his head on the wall.

"Gods," he cursed. His head started spinning and throbbing. "I feel drunk and I didn't even have the pleasure to drink," he said.

"It's the drug," said the man, his eyes not blinking.

Ailios squinted. "The drug?"

"Yes. It's meant to keep us calm and quiet."

Ailios stared at him for a moment and then nodded at the man next to him. "Couldn't they overdose your friend?" he asked. The man shook his head.

It was a short man, Ailios realized. He was seated on the floor, it was true, but he was much shorter than Ailios. He wore a blue Bio-suit without a helmet, and it was blood-stained, much like the one Ailios wore. That's when Ailios noticed that the blood didn't just cover the man's suit. His entire face was painted in red, and he had the largest bump on his forehead Ailios had ever seen. They must've beaten him badly, but he didn't moan like his buddy, for which Ailios was eternally grateful.

"So," Ailios said, squinting his headache away, "how do we get out of here?"

"We can't. There is no way..."

"There is always a way and it's usually hidden," Ailios said, forcing his eyes to find it.

Ailios stood up. He still staggered, his head still throbbed making the world pulse in black nuance, but he forced himself to reach the door with his hand extended to keep the walls at a distance. Once he was at the door he knocked and pressed his ear, waiting to hear someone, something, anything. It was cold and silent, except for his throbbing pulse. He then tried to push the door, he even slammed his foot on it but it didn't budge. He backed away, fingers rubbing his temples. "Okay, the door is locked," he said, stating the obvious. But he didn't plan to give up just yet. He started moving around the room, knocking on walls, hoping to find a weak spot where he could carve his way out somehow.

First couple of knocks proved the walls were thick. It felt demotivating. However, there was still more to go.

"Why are you here?" Ailios asked his cellmate between knocks.

"We were captured."

"I already figured that out," Ailios said. "I meant why did you come here on Timor in the first place?"

There was a pause before the man answered. "We were looking for something."

Ailios knocked. "Are you raiders?"

The man coughed, maybe trying to laugh. "Worse," he said, "we're archeologists."

Archeologists... Ailios stopped to look at him. "So you are the group that Major Ailig mentioned."

The archeologist gave a weak nod. "He sent us here. We were part of his Secret Projects Division."

"Never heard of it," said Ailios, then shrugged, it was secret division after all. "What does it do?"

The man seemed to wonder for a moment whether to answer that question or not. "Let's just say we are searching for weapons that would defeat the Cyons."

"Mm," Ailios nodded. "You were searching for a weapon here."

"Well, to call this particular item a weapon is putting it mildly. Have you ever heard about Eve before?"

Ailios squinted again. His throbbing head gave him little chance to remember if he did hear about it. "No," he said. "I can't seem to recall. What is it?"

The archeologist wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What if I told you that maybe there is a way to defeat the Cyons?"

"Then I would say you're insane." That was ridiculous. Everyone knew that there was no way they could defeat the Cyon fleet and their army. The only thing they could do was kill as many Cyons as possible, to cripple their race. But defeat them? No. Bloody. Way.

Ailios turned. Another throb made him squint, but he continued knocking on the walls.

"Eve is the weapon," the archeologist said.

Ailios knocked and felt his eyebrow rise. He glanced over his shoulder. "A weapon? Eve? What sort of weapon bears such a funny name?"

"The ultimate weapon. The one that would bring the Cyon domination to an end."

Good luck with that, thought Ailios.

The archeologist went on, "Few years back, I stumbled upon an ancient text that kept repeating the name Eve over and over again. Major Ailig gave me access to the military library. I did a little research and discovered that the ancients owned something with that particular name. They buried it in one of their temples. It didn't say where exactly, but if you looked closely you would see a pattern emerge. There are twenty temples on Talam with the sign of a snake curled around the Rod of Asclepius, and only one of those is here on Timor." The archeologist shrugged. "I suppose it was only logical that the only temple outside our home world would house the weapon."

Ailios felt a cold breeze caress his hair. He looked up. Two tiny holes gaped at him from above, blowing air into the cell. His eyes quickly dried. He blinked. "It doesn't sound logical to me," he said, his mind on those two holes and how to reach them.

"Let's say you posses the most powerful weapon ever created..."

"Mhm."

"...Why would you keep it close to everyone's reach?"

Ailios knocked under the holes, his hand moving up. Still nothing. "Was it a bomb? One of those... how did they call them...?" He noticed a weak spot in a straight line under the holes, some thirty centimeters down.

"Fusion bombs?"

"Mmm. I suppose that was the word." Ailios squinted, not because of his throbbing head – he almost forgot about it – it was the weak spot on the wall he discovered. It sounded hollow, he was absolutely certain.

"No, I don't think so," said the archeologist. "I believe it is a syringe. The ultimate combination of DNA modifiers."

"Hmm..." Ailios scratched his chin. He then put his hands into his pockets, searching for something he could use to carve his way out. "Modifiers..."

"Exactly. And not just some isolated modifiers we have today, or some that we don't – like becoming a mover or a telepath, which is absolutely impossible to achieve unless the gods intervene. No, I am talking about god-like powers. With that syringe you can become a mover, a telepath, you can breathe under water. You can be faster than anyone else. Stronger. You can see better, hear better... your bones would become unbreakable... You would become a true God."

Ailios didn't find anything in his pockets. The abominations must've emptied them before they threw his unconscious body here. He looked around, mumbling, "Become god. Sounds nice."

"If we find this weapon," said the archeologist, "if we apply it on our troops, we would become unstoppable. Can you imagine that?"

Ailios turned toward him. "You got any tools?"

"What? Tools?"

"Digging tools, yes. You're an archeologist, are you not?"

The archeologist stared at Ailios with confusion in his eyes. "I..." He then nodded toward his friend. "I think he has something. Check his side pockets. They didn't search him."

Ailios kneeled and put his hands into the pockets of the other archeologist, quickly groping for whatever he could find. He pulled out some sort of tool from one of the pockets. "What is this?" He pivoted the tool in his hand, trying to realize what it was. It was like a handle for something, long and firm and sharp at one end.

"It's a scanner," said the archeologist.

"A scanner," Ailios echoed.

"Yes. It detects metal objects under the surface..."

"I know what a scanner is. You're telling me you guys dig with a scanner?" Suddenly his head hurt even more. How was he going to dig through a wall with a bloody scanner?

"No, umm, we didn't take..."

"Never mind." Ailios stood up. He gripped the scanner in his hand, pointing the sharp end downward, and he started chopping the wall. Tiny clouds of dirt came down and thin layers of compressed earth peeled off. With that pace of digging, Ailios estimated that he would need at least a year to get on the other side... if the wall was five centimeters thick. Nonetheless, it was all he could do, so he shut his mouth, focused, and pumped his hand up and down.

The archeologist spoke again. "If you succeed – if you leave this place – you must tell the major that Eve exists," he said. The dying man moaned again as if to confirm what his colleague said, but Ailios was so focused in his digging that he barely even noticed it. "These abominations know about it. They are looking for it as well. Eve is our only hope if we are to stand against the Cyons... or our doom if the abominations find it first–"

Loud noise coming from beyond the cell interrupted his words. Ailios stopped digging. He looked around to figure out what caused it. For a moment there was only silence. But then more sounds came from behind the door – bursts in a rapid succession.

Gunshots. Ailios moved a step toward it, trying to figure out what was happening, who was attacking who down here.

Ailios was certain he even heard shouts this time. And then everything went silent. Ailios exchanged glances with the archeologist. No more sounds came, no shots or shouts. Ailios reached the door and planted his ear firmly on it, held his breath, focused. Still nothing–

A blast made the door smack his face and blacken his vision, and before he knew it, he was on the floor, dust raining down on him. His back hurt, his head hurt even more, but he opened his eyes, squinting. There were shouts and buzz – that's my ears, he realized. His hand went up to keep the dust away, and he blinked rapidly. And then a face showed – a very familiar face that Ailios wasn't very fond of.

Luthis. "You are uglier than I remember," Ailios muttered and coughed.

Luthis turned to the door. "He's here," he called. He then dropped something on Ailios's chest. "Take it."

It was a pistol. Ailios looked at Luthis again, blinking and coughing dust away and waving his hand in front of his face to help disperse the dust.

"C'mon, move," said the mover. "We don't have much time."

Ailios rolled to his side and then struggled to get on his feet, one hand holding the pistol, other pushing him off the floor. Luthis extended a naked hand toward him. Ailios grabbed it when he was on his knees and pulled himself up. Luthis yelped.

"What?" Ailios asked him.

The mover showed him the hand. His fingers were all broken. Then Ailios realized in horror that his other hand was gone from the wrist down and covered in green liquid. Actually, Luthis's entire suit was covered in green liquid and was still dripping down.

"What happened to you?" Ailios asked in confusion this time.

"There's no time to explain," Luthis said and jerked his head toward the exit. Ailios couldn't leave his fellow prisoners behind. If the archeologist was right about that Eve thing and if there was even a slightest chance that his people might fend off the Cyons, then he had to take it. Besides, there were not many humans left.

Ailios kneeled and took the dying one by his arm and then brought him on top of his shoulders. "Help the other," he grunted to Luthis.

"With what?" Luthis showed his injured hand and naked wrist.

Ailios cursed. He staggered toward the sitting archeologist and he gave him a prod with his foot. "Hey, stand up. Rescue's here."

The man's face was gray with dust. He looked up, bright eyes full of despair. "My legs," he said. Ailios looked down, and for the first time he noticed that they were awkwardly bent at the knees.

"Gods," Ailios heard himself mutter. But he didn't plan to leave him there. He put the pistol in his pocket and he extended his hand. The archeologist shook his head. "Take it!"

"You must tell the major..."

"If we stay a little longer, we're dead," Luthis called. He was at the doorway, and he turned to see what the delay was all about. "Move dammit, what are you waiting for?"

Ailios knew he was right. He would have to leave one of the archeologists to die so that the rest may escape.

"No," he said. He grabbed the archeologist's hand. He was going to drag him out if need be.

With one man on his shoulder, another towed behind, Ailios staggered through the fog of dust. His feet went over something hard first and then over something soft, almost twisting his ankle. He didn't want to look down as he knew what the soft thing might be. Next he found himself in a tight corridor. Two men lay dead with gunshot wounds on their chests.

Abominations, he realized. But Luthis couldn't shoot a pistol with the broken hand of his. He must've had help... Faragar maybe?

On his surprise it wasn't Faragar.

"You," Ailios said, unable to believe his eyes. "You are the rescue?"

The other man in a blue Bio-suit suit nodded with a frightened smile. "Trust me I didn't want to come here either," he said, "but Olivia..."

Olivia! It was the only girl whose face Ailios wanted to see now – her face and her ship.

"Never mind," said Ailios. "Can you carry him?" He nodded at the archeologist on the floor.

Friseal shrugged. "I don't know. Strength is not my best side..."

Ailios let go of the archeologist's hand, and took out the pistol from his pocket. "One more pistol increases our chances of survival, don't you think?"

Friseal didn't seem fond of the idea to carry someone, but Ailios didn't leave him any choice. The chameleon kneeled, took the archeologist by his arm, and struggled to get him up on his shoulders. His legs wobbled but he managed to keep standing. That was good enough.

"This way!" Luthis waved. He was at the end of the corridor, poking his head through a doorway. "Hurry!"

When Ailios passed through, he suddenly stopped. His jaw dropped in pure astonishment. The entire room was destroyed. Metal tables were turned upside down, glass was shattered, machinery pieces and metal tubes were scattered all over the place. At least a dozen bodies were lying under the ruins.

Ailios turned to Luthis. "You did this?"

"Gods, no. I was being tortured. It was him."

Ailios avoided the torture thing. He turned to Friseal. "You?" And then snorted. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

Friseal shrugged and started through the ruins toward another doorway at the far end. Ailios was still unable to accept that Friseal was capable of such destruction. He was the biggest craven Ailios had ever seen. He was a chameleon for gods' sake.

Luthis shrugged as well and went after Friseal.

The next room was also destroyed, and so was the next. Ailios wondered if Friseal was hiding his true abilities, but this was not the time to ask.

When they reached the fourth room, a gunfight broke out. Burst of bullets riddled the turned tables and chairs inside the room.

Few metal spikes hurtled beside Ailios. The last one hit something and the archeologist he was carrying flinched. Ailios kneeled behind a table, and then put the man down. The metal spike sprouted from his neck, blood oozed down on the floor. Ailios realized he had a warm line of blood on his own left leg. Quickly he checked his entire left side, to make sure it wasn't his blood. He exhaled, relieved that it wasn't. His fingers touched the archeologist's neck, moved around until he could find a pulse. He touched the bloodied spot and then realized the spike had penetrated deep into the neck. There was nothing Ailios could do to help the man.

Round of bullets strafed the floor next to his legs. He pulled them closer to his body and peered above the table to see what was going on. A group of abominations were scuttling toward them from the doorway across from Ailios while few abominations were providing cover behind them.

Ailios aimed his pistol and fired few shots. None of them hit their targets. He ducked his head down. "What now?" he shouted.

Luthis was hiding behind another turned table when Friseal approached him, dragging the other archeologist with him. He put him on Luthis's back.

"Wait, what are you–?" Luthis started.

"Hold tight," Friseal told the archeologist. His weak arms wrapped around Luthis's neck like two blue snakes. To Luthis, the chameleon said, "Go that way." He pointed at a doorway to their left that led into darkness. "I'll hold them off."

That was the funniest thing Ailios had heard in his life. Friseal covering their backs? Holding the enemy off? He forced a subtle laugh despite the grimness of their situation.

"Go!" Friseal shouted to Luthis. With his two hands the chameleon brought out something that looked like a tube from behind his back. He grabbed it like he was about to strangle it and put one end on his shoulder. A flash of blue light extended from the tube toward the abominations.

Ailios froze at the sight of it. "What in Segomo's name is that?"

Friseal shouted. "Go, team leader! Now!"

Ailios made a run for it. Another blue light lit the room as Friseal fired his beam weapon. A blast of electricity crackle muffled the screams of abominations.

Through the doorway it was dark, but Ailios's eyes quickly adapted. It was another tight corridor that led to three doors at the far end. He wondered how they didn't get lost by now in this maze of corridors.

Luthis and the archeologist, holding tightly on his neck, were now in front of him. It seemed as if Luthis had a human-shaped cape with its legs dragging on the floor, bouncing with every step.

"Where's Faragar?" Ailios asked the mover.

Luthis had reached the doors by then. He stopped and looked at them, undoubtedly wondering which one to choose. He mumbled, "Friseal said the middle one, but..."

"Hey!" Ailios snapped. "Where's Faragar?"

"They took him," Luthis answered absently.

"Took him? Took him where? We need to get him out." But it didn't seem that Luthis was listening to Ailios at all. He was still preoccupied with the doors. "Hey!" Ailios grabbed his arm and turned him face to face. "We need to get him out, you hear me?"

"There is no time. Friseal said–"

"Tell me where he is?"

"I don't know."

"How did you know where I was going to be? Tell me!"

"I didn't. He did." Luthis nodded behind Ailios.

Friseal was running toward them. "That one," his hand aiming at the door to the left.

Ailios stopped in his way. "Where's Faragar?"

Friseal made a grimace as he slowed down. "What?"

"Faragar! Where is he?"

Friseal's words passed through panting breath. "They, um, they took him to the lab. I bet he is dead by now. No one gets out alive from–"

"Show me where!"

Friseal's thumb pointed behind. "Through the doorway where the abominations intercepted us, then through the first door to your right. You'll see a sign above the door of a yellow triangle. Then you go down the stairs. You can't miss it."

How do you know all these things? Ailios wanted to ask, but there was no time. "I'm going," he said and turned to leave.

Ailios made a run back through the corridor and into the ruined room. There he hid behind a turned table for a moment, to peer and see if there were any abominations waiting for him. But all he saw were only the dead ones from before.

What am I doing?

He gripped his pistol and exposed himself, moving cautiously toward the doorway. Luckily, that beam weapon had killed all the abominations. Now he just had to follow Friseal's directions.

The yellow triangle sign hung askew above the stairway to his right. Ailios started down few steps only to realize that the corridor was sealed off by rubble from the ceiling. He cursed and grabbed a piece of compressed earth with both hands and pulled it down from the pile. Some of the chunks were the size of his hands, others were much, much, bigger. For once he wanted to have the mover's ability; he would've broken through in a heartbeat.

"I'm coming for you Faragar!" Ailios shouted. He took another chunk the size of his head, and he pulled it down with a growl. "Hold on!" But the pile seemed to be never-ending. More rubble fell as Ailios moved chunks away.

He struggled to get as much as he could from this awful tomb, to open a small enough hole so he could sneak in. Faragar would clear the pile once he reached him.

"Hold on, Faragar!" Ailios shouted.

By the time he moved ten more chunks of compressed earth he was panting. He was not even near to opening the hole he hoped for. He stopped for a second to catch his breath, and then took another chunk. There was no way he could've lifted it, he just pulled it down, barely avoiding it not to smash his feet. He rested his hands on his knees. His breath whizzed through his widely-open mouth dry like a desert. It was difficult to get some air, and it was even more difficult to get some strength in his hands. But Faragar was behind the pile of rubble. Ailios had to get him out before more of the abominations came.

He closed his mouth, dust crunched between teeth, and he pulled more chunks down. He would get Faragar out, he was determined.

And then he heard someone shout from behind him. Ailios turned, breathing heavily, and froze. One of the abominations was standing there, aiming a rifle at him.

Ailios managed to mutter, "Gods, not again–"

And a blue light passed through the abomination, his body danced in waves of electricity. His eyelids closed and his legs gave out.

Footsteps echoed behind him. A long shadow moved on the floor until the man that cast it stopped at the doorway.

"I came to take you out," Friseal said, "and that's what I'm going to do." He moved closer and grabbed Ailios with his free hand and pulled him back.

Ailios shook his arm free. "Faragar," he breathed, one hand resting on his knee, the other pointing back.

"More are coming from the lower levels. We need to get you out." Friseal grabbed Ailios's hand and gripped tighter than Ailios thought he could. The chameleon pulled again.

Ailios struggled at first, but when he heard shouts in a foreign language getting closer he decided to move. He looked back at the pile. "I'm sorry, Faragar."

"We'll come back for him. Now move!" And Friseal pushed him. Ailios almost tripped. He was too bloody tired to resist. But the worst thing was he knew it was a lie. They weren't coming back...

Friseal stopped to hold off the abominations while Ailios half ran, half staggered to get to the three doors, and then he opened the left one. Ailios looked around. It was a mess hall, and unlike the rooms he passed through earlier, here the tables and chairs were all in place.

He then heard running footsteps from behind. Friseal kicked the door open and shouted, "MOOOOVE!"

Ailios caught a glimpse of at least five abominations running after the chameleon. The sight of them made Ailios find a sudden strength in his legs he didn't know he had, and he obeyed.

As he ran between tables and chairs, he wondered if he would see Friseal's true abilities now, but if there were any, he kept them well hidden because all he did was run, and damn fast he ran.

Friseal pushed a big door open with his shoulder. Behind the door, a wide stairway waited for them to climb up. Friseal turned to fire his tube-canon while Ailios went on. Three more doors waited for him at the end of the stairway. Ailios was so exhausted that he didn't care which one he'll go through. He pushed the first one that came to mind and halted.

"There's no ship," he gasped.

Instead of his yellow dolphin, there were many white tubes in thousands of rows in front of him, just like the tanks he saw before. "What are these things?" he mumbled.

The door behind him slammed open. "You got the wrong door!" Friseal grabbed Ailios's neck ring and pulled him outside. He pointed up. An interpretation of a ship hung attached above the middle door. "Look at the signs, dammit!"

There was no time to argue. More footsteps and shouts of abominations approached from behind. Friseal pushed the door open, and there it was – the most warming sight Ailios never thought he'd see again – his robotic dolphin with its hatch on the lower side wide open. They jumped in, and sealed the hatch.

Ailios felt his gut moving downward immediately as he settled in the airlock, and then he felt a weird pressure in his head.

We're moving. With the last amount of energy he stood up and pushed the airlock hatch above his head, and then climbed the ladder. Up in the pilot's cabin was the archeologist, strapped on Faragar's seat; a blow in Ailios's guts – he would give anything to have the brute back.

Luthis and Olivia were seated as well and stared intently through the window. Ailios turned, his eyes opened wide while hands grabbed the closest seat. He stared at a narrow tunnel their ship was passing through. Ailios had the feeling they were scraping its edges. It turned out he was right – there was a bump and he barely kept himself on his feet – a piece of rock bounced off the window.

Olivia shouted, "You better sit down and buckle up!"

Ailios and Friseal quickly obeyed. Now all that Ailios could do was close his eyes and pray. Gods, help me get out of this cursed place alive. I won't steal from you anymore, I promise–

A shudder made him snap his eyes open. The ship touched the tunnel's walls. A computer started beeping.

There was no bright light at the end of the tunnel. Only a black dot that was getting bigger and bigger until it turned big enough to distinguish blinking dots and a piece of the gray-orange planet outside.

"Hold tight!" Olivia shouted. "If they seal the doors again we might need to break through!"

"Seal the doors?" Ailios mumbled. "Which doors?"

"Those doors!" she shouted.

The opening started to get smaller as two gray rocks moved toward one another. Ailios felt his stomach churn. "Damn my mouth," he mumbled.

"Gods, we're going to die," someone said.

"Hold on!"

The rocks were nearly closed. Palatine turned into a gray-orange rectangle. Olivia pressed a button – the yellow dolphin spat three missiles. In an instant the explosion expanded through the tunnel, getting closer to their ship. Bright ball of flame covered everything behind. Ailios thought the next thing they'll do was smash the rock doors...

But the flame disappeared in a quick puf. The doors were gone and so were they. Only the space remained around their dolphin.

Ailios let his head collapse back, and he closed his eyes.
LUCIUS

The bridge on Power Comet was subdued and silent. Lucius drummed his fingers over the arm of the command seat, but no one dared say a word to him, not even a consoling one. Not after he sent Bruttius to the improvised dungeon in the cargo hold.

The emperor was leaned back, his jaw clenched. What little he could feel from his body was tense and restless. He tilted his head forward so his furious eyes could glare under the eyebrows.

I was supposed to stand there, he said to himself as he stared at the usurper in Lucius's body standing frozen on the screen.

Lucius moved his eyes at the command console next to his hand and for the first time since the accident he took a glimpse at his reflected face on the black surface. He didn't want to look at it before. Maybe because of lack of courage, or maybe because he thought it was unnecessary. But now there was another man wearing his face. With heavy heart Emperor Lucius acknowledged that the usurper was everything that he was not – where he had golden flames on his chin Lucius had skin; where the golden fire burned his cheeks Lucius had cuts scarring him; where the gold danced above his forehead Lucius had black hair pointed up. It was as if he was looking at the boy from his dream, weak and fragile. He was nothing without the gold.

Lucius moved his eyes back at the screen where the usurper stood with pride. Metal fingers dug into his palm as the emperor imagined squeezing the usurper's neck.

The soldier Bruttius earlier said that history will remember Lucius Cornelius Venator as the great conqueror of Talam, even if it wasn't actually he who would lead the attack. After all, the usurper had the emperor's golden body, did he not? "Who will know that it wasn't the true emperor Lucius himself?" he said to another soldier.

Unfortunately for him Lucius overheard their conversation. "I will know, you imbecile!" It was good enough reason to send Bruttius to the dungeon, to contemplate on what he had said. The only reason he did not execute the soldier was because of his outstanding performance aboard the Aquila when Lucius and Arrius were struggling to escape the merchant ship. Bruttius was the one who sabotaged Aquila's EMP cannon and saved the day. But it took only few words to ruin what he was close to achieve. The fool.

Lucius tapped the play button for the fifth time and the frozen usurper came to life. His hands were up in the air. His lips turned into a self-satisfied smile that made Lucius hate the man who stole his body and throne even more. People cheered their approval underneath the balcony while red banners flapped relentlessly above his head. The golden man looked back and the video feed switched to another camera where a Bion soldier was being dragged out in chains. A gigantic robot lumbered in front of the Bion, pulling the other end of the chain like he was taking his two-legged creature for a walk. The Bion was reluctant to go forth. His body would lean back after few steps, but then the robot would pull the chain forward and the Bion was forced to make few hasty steps not to fall down. Before they reached the end of the balcony the soldier fell. As he struggled to get back on his feet, the usurper pointed his finger at him.

"These savages killed your emperor! They dared make an attempt on my own life!" There were boos and curses from the crowd. The usurped paused to let the crowd vent their anger. "But do not despair, my fellow humans, for the time to punish their weak excuse of an existence and claim their world is finally at hand." The crowd welcomed those words with shouts of approval. Energy weapons were discharged in the air, lighting the sky in red and blue.

The usurper made a curt nod to the robot. One heavy arm went up, taking the chain and the Bion along with it. The Bion's legs left the balcony centimeter by centimeter, kicking franticly while the crowd cheered. His face was red and swollen behind the glass helmet. Lucius could tell that the savage tried to breathe. He had seen that hungry-for-air face many times when he would squeeze a Bion's neck. This one fought to breathe, but it wasn't long before his legs went still and his head inclined to the side and thus failed in the attempt. It was then that the robot let go of the chain, and the body thumped down like a sack of spare parts. The crowd cheered louder then.

With a wave of his hand, the usurper relieved the robot. His metal guardian nodded and turned, dragging the dead body back inside the palace in the echoes of acclamation from the crowd. At that moment a flash of light blinked over the palace, a crack drifted from the sky. Every camera turned up to show a gigantic golden form descend through the atmosphere, its booming roar coming with a slight delay. The crowd instantly went silent. They've seen that golden ship many times, Lucius knew, but it was still a breathtaking sight for his people. The camera view showed their faces from up close, how their wide-opened eyes followed the Imperial flagship gliding effortlessly despite its massiveness. In a few moments it was hovering over the palace.

The usurper looked up at the ship and then down at the crowd. "Never in the history of mankind has such an offensive taken place," he said. "Never did humanity join strength to end this war. But today, my fellow humans, today we end the war with fire and destruction of the Bion home world!"

The crowd went crazy. Roars and weapons entangled in the air.

The ship extended its golden stairway toward the balcony, red carpet unrolling until it touched the usurper's feet. Lucius noticed the wicked smile that crept on the usurper's lips as he took a step over the carpet and started his ascent into the emperor's flagship Jupiter. And then the image froze.

Lucius was already trembling. His fist came down over the buttons, and the image flickered off.

"I will smash his head," he snarled, "and take his body... my body! How does he dare to mock me like this?" Lucius would've stood up if he could, but he left his wheels under a weapons crate on Lightning Bolt, even the more reason to be angry.

Captain Arrius and the soldier Helvius were with him on the bridge, their heads lowered and mouths sealed. From the Aquila's remains they picked up eight other soldiers, four of whom were now with them on the bridge. They stood firm around the emperor, their helmets in their hands. They said nothing as well.

I'm surrounded with cowards, Lucius thought as he exhaled what little breath he had.

"Where did he forge the body, captain? No one has the schematics, no one can copy the Imperial family. It is forbidden. And I doubt he found it in Timor's ruins."

Arrius seemed to have found the courage to speak. "Someone may have forged it just by studying you from images and videos."

"Impossible," Lucius blurted. "This is too good a copy to be made by hand. Someone must have had access to the private Imperial Library from where he acquired the schematics."

"Whoever it was will be punished."

"Of course he will." Lucius exhaled in annoyance and then changed the subject. "Did you find out anything from the crew?"

Arrius shook his head. "Just what the captain already told us, Your High... Lucius," he corrected when Lucius looked at him. He would need time to adjust calling his emperor by his name, Lucius knew. "They were heading toward Palatine when they received our distress call. We were lucky they stopped to pick us up first before the traitors on Aquila could board them."

"Luck had nothing to do with it." It was the merchant's guild silent agreement – every time there is a distress call merchant ships have priority. The emperor's escape pod had the IFF of Lightning Bolt, so that made him first in line for the rescue. After they were scooped up, Arrius and Helvius took over the ship and rescued the few remaining soldiers from Aquila, leaving the traitors to die in space. "Is there a doctor among them, is what I want to know," said Lucius.

Arrius shook his head.

Lucius slammed his fist over the buttons again. "I need a body!" He accidentally pressed the play button and the usurper was on the screen once more. Lucius growled and slammed his fist down again and again and again until sparks jumped from the command console. "Get him off my sight!"

Someone pressed a button and the screen died.

"Get me out of this seat," Lucius snarled. He couldn't stand the seatbelts anymore. They were pressing him awkwardly, holding his half body in place. He was tired of sitting and staring in space and doing nothing to claim his throne. He wanted to stand up, to move, to get away from there...

"Where would you want to go, Lucius?"

"Do I look as if I care?"

Arrius nodded and unbuckled the seatbelts. He lifted his emperor in his arms and took him to the captain's cabin where he put him on the bed.

The cabin was awful, Lucius realized, but it felt better than sitting on that wretched seat.

"How long has it been since you last recharged?" Arrius asked him.

Lucius moved his eyes at the overhead, at the dull, rusty spots that covered the gray metal. "I don't know, I... can't remember."

"You haven't recharged since Doctor Modius brought you back, have you?"

Lucius honestly couldn't tell, but it seemed about it.

"Gods," he heard Arrius mutter. He kneeled beside the bed and groped for some wires. It didn't take long for him to hook them up with Lucius's heart and brain. "You should rest now."

Lucius shook his head. Retake my throne, is what I should. "I can't let the usurper steal the victory that should've been my own," he said. "He must not reach Talam. I have to stop him."

"The usurper is already on his way to the Bion home world. Even if we throw the cargo from this ship and burn our engines to maximum it is still questionable whether we can reach the fleet in time."

"I am not talking about reaching the fleet, captain. I am talking about taking my throne back and using the power it wields to stop him."

Arrius narrowed his eyes. "Power...?"

Lucius exhaled. He shouldn't have said that. "The throne has powers unknown to anyone else but the emperor and his successor. And now to you. Make sure it stays that way."

"Of course, Lucius. I feel honored." After a moment of pause he asked, "Will that power be enough to stop the usurper?"

"It will be. There is one power I find particularly appealing for this occasion, and that is a transmission to every cranial transmitter in the system. Maybe I will even override my flagship and crash it in the sun along with the wretched usurper on board." But even though the thought of doing that was pleasant, Lucius knew he would rather have the usurper alive, begging before his feet. That would be a more welcoming sight.

"Why didn't Emperor Titus use that power to stop the riots? To save you, or himself? And why didn't the usurper use the throne to stop us from running away?"

"You don't believe me?" Lucius couldn't hide the irritation in his voice.

"Of course, I believe you, Lucius. But if the throne indeed has some powers, why weren't they used? None of this makes sense to me."

"The usurper has my body, captain. My father didn't consider me a threat. I suppose the energy field around the throne was offline when he was approached. The usurper must've used that moment of weakness to strike a killing blow. At least, it's what I would've done if I were in his place. As for the usurper, he is nothing more but what the name implies. And he is not either an emperor or a successor. Does it make any sense to you now, captain?"

Arrius nodded. "So you propose we go for the throne first?"

"I am considering it."

"There are still automated defenses on Palatine that will make it difficult for us to reach the palace. If we go back to Burnum we can regroup with our fleet and prepare for an assault."

You want to go back to Valeria, Lucius was certain. Somehow that annoyed him. There were more important things than love at the moment.

"With the fleet we can assault Stratonis," Arrius went on, "and once we have armed ourselves we will take your throne back. Just as you said we should do in the first place."

"Did you not hear what I said? We do not have time for such campaign. The usurper changed all that when he announced the attack on Talam. It's not only about who claims victory between us, but it's about the lives of my people." Valeria was right. Attack on Talam will cripple humanity. "I don't want to be an emperor of ghosts."

"So we go for Palatine then."

"I didn't say that. I said I am considering it. Tell me, captain, do you know any doctors on Palatine?"

"I know a few, but I believe they are drafted for the attack. I doubt we'll find them..."

"I will need the soldier's body if we are to enter the palace."

"I understand," said Arrius and paused. He was thinking. "Maybe there is a doctor that is still there, an old friend of mine."

That was good news. "How soon can you contact him?"

"With the cranial transmitter that Modius swapped, I will have to be at least few hundred klicks from his location."

"So we will not know if he is there until we land."

"I am afraid you are right. But, let's just say the man defies authority. That being said, I think he skipped the call to arms."

Lucius moved his eyes at the overhead. He kept them there while his mind raced through his options. Going to Burnum and gathering his fleet seemed logical and wisest of all, but it lacked the speed he needed. Landing on Palatine tackled the speed issue, but it left him vulnerable without a body and without his fleet. "There is another possibility," Lucius said, thinking how crazy his next words would sound. "We land on Timor and do a sweep through the ruins."

Arrius was puzzled. "What are you hoping to find, Lucius?"

"Jupiter's scepter."

Lucius could tell that the captain fought to keep a smile off his face. But he wasn't the first one to react that way, so he let it go.

"Jupiter's scepter is a myth," said Arrius.

"It is not a myth. It is a weapon. The Bion archeologists and the abominations were searching for it when my father bombed the moon base. That is why I was there, to find it before they do." Where I lost my friends, he thought bitterly. "With the weapon secured we will assault the palace and take my throne."

"What if the Bions or- or the abominations have found it already?"

"You saw the moon base after the bombings. If my body of gold did not withstand, I doubt the weak savages and abominations would have fared any better."

"But then the weapon might be destroyed as well."

"Maybe. But if it's still there, we will enter the palace with ease. Now leave me be. I need to think about this." But the captain didn't leave. He lingered beside the bed for another minute. "Is there anything else, captain?"

"Which course should we pursue for the time being?"

"Take us farther away from the battle and give me time to ponder on our options."

Arrius nodded and left the emperor rest. Lucius didn't even realize when fatigue took over. He didn't even have time to think where they should go next, he just closed his eyes and then opened them again in a colorful dream. He was back to being a boy, that fragile little thing that somehow survived with his illness. Lucius recognized the room he was in. It was his room, wide and spacious just like the rest of his house. Portraits hung from the walls of young men that resembled his visage. Two of them wore military uniforms, their chests stacked with medals. Lucius had asked his father once who they were, but now he couldn't remember. Maybe it was his father's father, or his grandfather, but he wasn't sure, they all looked the same.

He looked down from the portraits and found his mother standing in front of him. She wore an elegant sleeveless dress, white in color with a golden belt on her waist. In her hands she held a cake, the one with cherries and chocolate Lucas adored. His mouth started to water as he watched her put the cake on the table. The other kids already surrounded her with laughter and hungry eyes all focused on the cake. Everyone wore cone hats in yellow and blue. What a funny thing to wear, Lucius thought.

Some of the kids broke into song. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Lucas! Happy birthday to you!" They clapped their little hands. Lucas smiled.

"Come on, sweetheart," said his mother, "blow the candles."

He counted nine of them gently burning over the icing.

Lucas inhaled and gave the mightiest of blows he could muster. It left him coughing and left few candles still burning. Too weak, Lucius thought suddenly aware of the pain in his lungs. He barely got his breath back. In the meantime his friends helped him blow the remaining candles.

One of the boys pulled his mother's sleeve down. "Can we eat now, Mrs. Carington?"

Alana gave the most pleasant laughter that Lucius had ever heard. It's almost like a song. She brushed a lock of black hair from her face. "Of course you can, Oliver. Just let me get a knife. You'll get the biggest piece, I promise." She went to the kitchen. Meanwhile, one of the boys had bitten off a cherry from the top. His smile turned black and white and red. Oliver punched him on the shoulder.

"Wait for your turn, Matthew!" he said.

Matthew still chewed, his puffy cheeks expanding and contracting.

Alana came back and started cutting pieces for everyone. Lucas got the first one, but somehow he wasn't hungry. He gave it to Oliver. His friend was all smiles after that.

Lucas took a seat under the portraits and watched his friends eat and laugh. He watched his mother cut the cake and give pieces to those who eagerly waited for their turn. But something was missing he knew it was, though he couldn't remember what.

That's when the doorbell rang. "That must be our newest guest," his mother said. "Sweetheart, will you accompany me to the door?"

"Do I have to?"

"It's your birthday, sweetheart. You have to greet your guests."

Lucas said nothing more. He followed his mother out of the room and down the stairs. The hallway was long and wide with wooden walls colored in dark brown. Portraits hung from them as well. The door was at the far end and Alana opened it when it was in her reach. The sun blinded Lucas for a moment, made him squint. Through the light a shape of a woman appeared. And then the light receded. The woman had a long red hair and bright blue eyes. She was already smiling when she hugged his mother.

"And who is this handsome man?" she asked as she leaned closer to Lucius.

"Lucas," his mother said, "say hi to Mrs. Lora Arlington, a very dear colleague of mine."

Lucas extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Arlington."

Mrs. Arlington gave a gentle laugh. "Aren't you a polite little man. The pleasure is all mine, Lucas." She straightened but kept her eyes on him. "There is someone I want you to meet." She moved aside. Behind her was a girl showered by the sun. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her legs close to one another. She wore a white dress with blue flowers on her waist and shoulders. Her hair was red in long curls just like her mother's, her eyes were blue and gentle and she had freckles over her nose. A shy smile appeared on her face.

Lucas wanted to say something, but all he could do was just stare at her, the cutest girl Lucas had ever seen. He found himself frozen. His legs couldn't move, his hands hung uselessly beside him. He felt his lips tight and dry, his stomach fluttered.

Smile, stupid. Don't stand like that.

"Eleanor, say hi to Lucas," her mother said.

Eleanor. That name meant a lot to him, Lucius remembered. The simple mentioning of that name unleashed sudden warmth inside him. But he couldn't remember how or why or when did it happen for him to care so much.

Lucas finally smiled. "Nice to meet you, Eleanor."

Her hands came in front of her. She held a tiny box wrapped in blue paper with a golden ribbon on top. She looked at him under her eyebrows when she said, "Happy birthday, Lucas." And she gave him the box.

Lucas had to force his hands to take it from her. He loved all his gifts even though he didn't want to admit it to his parents, but somehow this gift, whatever it was, meant a lot to him.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Mrs. Arlington said to him.

Lucas looked at her and then at the box and did what she told him to do. He was eager to know what was inside.

His little hands fumbled around it ripping the ribbon and the paper until he was left with a wooden box in his hands. It was dark red and well polished. Lucas was expecting a toy, not a wooden box. He couldn't hide his disappointment. Mrs. Arlington was grinning. She nodded to him, urging him to look closer. His focus was back on the box. He turned it and read the inscription on the other side.

Ordinary men stop at their first obstacle – great men tread over it.

– Gen. Arthur William Arlington.

Lucas whispered the words, trying to find a meaning.

"It was Eleanor's great grandfather who said that. Open it." Lucas pushed a metal hook. Inside the box he found a tiny golden globe. He took it between his fingers, feeling the metal on his skin. "It belonged to him," Mrs. Arlington said.

Lucius didn't find the globe interesting, but it was a gift from her and that meant more than anything. He put the globe back and closed the box. "I cannot accept this gift," he said.

"I thought you were a polite little man." Mrs. Arlington gave him a scowl. "It is rude to give back a gift."

"This is your family's fortune," Lucas said. His father told him once that he must keep all family treasures, and he must increase their family's wealth in time. That is how it was done in his family for generations. This box was clearly a family possession, something that was priceless to the Arlingtons. Lucas could not accept it.

Mrs. Arlington crouched next to Lucas, their heads leveled. She said quietly, "Have you heard about the Battle of Olympus?"

Lucas nodded. Everyone knew about that. It was hundred years ago when the rebels gathered on Mount Olympus to destroy the laboratory of Food Industries. Lucas couldn't remember why the rebels wanted to destroy it, but he knew there were thousands of them, marching toward the lab. It was then that General Arlington with what little soldiers he had, marched to meet the rebels on the battlefield.

He wanted to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, it was said, but the rebels couldn't be reasoned with, so he gritted his teeth and said his famous words before he led his men into battle. He lost half his soldiers then, but he routed the rebels and saved Food Industries' laboratory.

How do I know these things? Lucius wondered, but he tried not to violate his dream and let it unfold.

"You see," Mrs. Arlington went on, "the odds were not in his favor when he clashed with the rebels, were they not? But at the end of the day he prevailed." She put her hand over his and made his fingers curl around the box. "Whenever you feel lost, remember what General Arlington said. It will always help you find your way."

Somehow he had the feeling that she felt sorry for him, for his illness. Maybe she didn't think he would live long enough.

Lucas lowered his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Arlington."

She smiled. "Thank Eleanor. It was her idea."

Lucas turned to say thank you, but he stopped, mouth open wide, as he heard heavy footsteps rushing through the hallway. It was Carl, their butler. The wooden floor creaked under the sturdy man in a black elegant suit. With a gruff voice he said, "Mrs. Carington, it's your husband."

"What about him?" All color washed from her face. "Where is he?" Carl glanced at the boy not saying anything, but then his mother grabbed his shoulders and shouted, "Carl, where is he? What happened to him? Talk to me!"

"He had an accident. He may not survive."

Alana sucked in her breath, her hands closed her mouth.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Carington," said Carl.

Lucas found he could not breathe. His vision blurred and slowly turned dark...

...And Emperor Lucius opened his eyes. He gasped for air, wanted to stand up. Instead, his hand pushed him to the side and he unwillingly fell down. His face smacked the floor. He cursed, and rolled on his back, trying to detach the tangled wires from his heart and skull. He breathed, his mind rushing from dreams to reality. And then he remembered the words.

Ordinary men stop at their first obstacle – great men tread over it.

Captain – Lucius sent – set a course for Palatine and get me to the bridge. It is time we take my empire back.
AILIOS

His seat inside the bridge was tilted back almost in a lying position, and he was trying to endure the unbearable pain on his forehead every time the wet gauze would touch the bump. "Ow!" he would exclaim from time to time like a wounded animal. It might have felt worse than the moan, but he wasn't sure, the bullet wound was too damn painful to even try to think of anything else.

"Watch the hair," he said.

Olivia smiled. "I thought you were tougher than that." She dipped the gauze in the alcohol cup and then gently tapped the spot above the brow. It was cold and painful. And smelly. Sharp, intoxicating smell spread out from the gauze. Ailios thought it was intoxicating enough to hold his screams back, but not enough to ease the pain. He then felt the cold liquid slide into his left eye. He clenched it shut. His right eye was his only window to the world and the bright light coming from the overhead. Whenever Olivia moved underneath the light, her beautiful face made him regret he couldn't look at her with two eyes.

Ailios honestly thought she was pretty, not just because she was a pilot and a telepath, but because he never saw a woman with as loving face as hers and with such soft skin before. Her golden hair gently brushed his lips. He wanted to smell the locks, to smell her, but all he could smell was the alcohol.

That's better, he thought. He couldn't bear the thought of being so close to her and not think of something dirty. Not that she was alien to his thoughts – she knew quite well how he looked at her and how much he wanted her, but he wanted to keep what little was left of it hidden, no matter how difficult it may seem.

She dipped the gauze again and tapped the bump. His head instinctively turned to his side to escape the pain, but she put her hand on his cheek and turned him back as he was. The touch was too gentle for him to be immune to reacting. Suddenly his underpants started to tighten up. He was sweating. And the pain on his forehead made him sit up and grab the cup. He emptied it with a single swallow. It was then that the true pain started – with a slight delay, though – his entire digestive system was on fire: his throat burned and his gullet screamed for water. He thought the alcohol would burn a hole in his stomach. He exhaled fire through his gritted teeth and slumped back on his seat. "Finish it," he said.

"I didn't plan for anything else," she said with her teasing smile. "Did you?"

"Well, I– aw! Easy! That's my head you're pressing on. It's not made out of metal."

"Although it does seem like an empty metal sometimes," she said thoughtfully. Ailios looked at her with one eye and she smiled. "Anyway, you never told me what the glass on your necklace means, and I haven't heard you thinking about it."

"Maybe because you shouldn't."

"Really. And why is that?"

Ailios looked down. The triangular pendant rested on the coarse hair of his chest. He touched it with his fingers, brought it up. The light from the overhead caused a rainbow of colors to wash over the glass. "It's something important." He looked at her again. "It's my women magnet."

Olivia couldn't hide her smile. "Liar."

"Since you ask about it, it did impress you on some level."

"I'm not as easily impressed as you think, I'm just curious to know what it is."

Ailios tried to shrug without touching her with his shoulder. "Well, now you know– aw!"

"Quit whining," she said. She tapped the gauze one last time and then dropped it in the bin next to her feet. "It's done."

Ailios started to sit up but she pushed him back down. What are you doing? he wondered with hidden hope.

"I'm done cleaning the wound. I need to stitch it now." The word alone sounded painful enough for him to wince.

From a metal plate next to him she took something that looked like a pistol. She inserted a small box into the barrel.

That will definitely hurt.

"Of course it will," she said, reading his thoughts again. "You caught a bullet with your head, did you expect anything less?"

Ailios squirmed, expecting the stitching to bring another world of pain. "I'll do my best to dodge it next time," he said.

"Make sure you do." She pressed the pistol over the wound, and the world spun and blackened. And then she pressed the button – thuf!

"Ow!"

Thuf!

"Ow! Easy!"

Thuf!

"How much more?" he wasn't sure if he just shouted or not.

Thuf!

"Ow!"

Olivia pulled back the pistol, examined the barrel. "Hmm, your skin is too thick to be pierced with this. I wonder if..." she pressed a button on the upper side. "Let's try now."

"Let me see what you pressed," said Ailios.

"I think it will increase the piercing strength."

"You think?"

"Hold still." She grabbed him over his face with one hand and with the other she pressed the pistol back at the wound. Ailios yelped, but her hand had covered his mouth and stifled the sound of it.

Thuf! Thuf! Thuf!

She moved her hand away and Ailios gave a delayed scream from the depths of his lungs.

"Oh, c'mon," Olivia said, "it wasn't that bad."

"No, it wasn't. It was awful!"

Olivia examined the wound. "Hmmm, what do you know, it worked." She put down the pistol and smiled, content written all over that pretty face of hers. "You want to see what I did?"

"No." He closed his eyes, trying to relieve the pain. "I can feel quite well what you did."

"No, seriously, look," she said.

He opened his eye only to be blinded by the reflection on the metal surface. He squinted.

"Sorry," she said, adjusting the mirror. "Now you can look."

First thing he noticed was his wet hair that missed a lock above the wound. It hurt him more to see his hair ruined than that nasty bump with three white stitches.

"Did you have to cut the hair?" he asked.

"Yes, and I am deeply sorry for that. Trust me I know how much it hurts you. But it's just a hair."

"It's not just a hair. It's my life's investment. Do you have any idea how many women have fallen for this beauty?" he trailed his fingers through his hair.

Olivia eyed him with raised eyebrow.

Ailios waved a hand. "Ah, forget it." He looked at the bump on the mirror again. It looks like you stitched a pebble under the skin. He said, "I couldn't have done it better myself."

"That's one thing we can both agree on." She stood up and took her tools away. "You better wash your eye before you open it. The alcohol will burn you blind."

He stood up and for a moment he felt as if his legs were foreign; one foot moved to the side and didn't obey his commands. Must be the alcohol.

Ailios entered the cabin, careful not to fall down and make his bump worse than it already was. Inside the cabin, the archeologist was asleep on one of the beds, his legs wrapped up in bandages all the way to his hips. Luthis slept on the bed next to him while Friseal was fixing his broken fingers. It was one of the chameleon's hidden abilities, although he said it was nothing more but a field medicine. And how in gods' names does he know field medicine?

Friseal looked up at Ailios as he came forward. "You okay?" he said. "I think I heard you scream."

Ailios didn't say anything. He just waved his hand and went to the lavatory to wash his eye. Once he was done with it, he washed his hair. Finally it smelled of something nice. Now he could talk. He looked in the mirror where on its reflection behind him Friseal was finishing his work, cutting the excessive bandages from the mover's hand. Ailios asked, "How is he?"

"He'll survive."

"I know he will. What about his hands? Will he be able to move things again?"

Friseal smiled. "He doesn't need his hands for that. He can move objects just by thinking of them."

Ailios didn't know that. "Then why does he wave his hands every time he moves something?"

"Maybe it makes him feel he's in control." Friseal shrugged. "You should ask him when he wakes up."

Sure I will. Ailios took some painkillers in his hand and a small bottle of alcohol from the locker above the mirror, and he left the cabin.

Inside the bridge he took a seat next to Olivia's piloting seat, though she wasn't sitting there now. She was watering her plants inside the bridge with a spraying bottle.

"Okay what do we do now?" Ailios asked her as he put his feet on the dashboard. He leaned back and dropped the pills in his mouth.

She turned. "You shouldn't mix those with alco..." and Ailios flushed them down with alcohol. Olivia shook her head. She turned and sprayed the earth under a broadleaf plant. "I have set course for Talam," she said. "I thought you would approve."

"Mm." Ailios nodded with a grimace. The alcohol burned his organs, but he hoped the painkillers would neutralize that as well. He laced his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. All he could do now was accept that he failed the mission. Somehow, though, it didn't seem to matter. What was Major Ailig going to do to him – kill him? If he's still alive when we go back...

But this was wrong. Failing this mission put more than his life at stake. It was the survival of humanity as a whole. He couldn't let the Cyons slaughter his people. Talam was his home, the home of so many pretty women he hadn't slept with yet. He couldn't let such beauty die. He had to do something. But what?

Olivia stopped spraying her plants. "You're an idiot," she said.

Ailios sent a glance at her. "Excuse me?"

"The entire Cyon fleet with every fighting-capable Cyon is on their way to Talam, and you are thinking about women you haven't slept with."

Ailios turned his seat to see her better. "Well, if you read my thoughts you would've found out that I don't approve the Cyon attack on our home world. But you would also find out that there is nothing I can do about it. I failed. I am sorry. Giving this leader role to me was a mistake."

The door toward the cabin opened and Friseal entered wiping his hands with a towel. "What about the golden hand and the half-Cyon you found on Timor?" he asked.

Ailios exhaled in annoyance. "What about them?"

"Aren't they a lead on our next move?"

"They would've been if we didn't leave them on Timor in Faragar's bag." Ailios suddenly realized how much he missed the brute. He liked his never-ending enthusiasm for fights. He was also the only man who truly respected Ailios. He might've been a good friend. Then he remembered. "Wait – how do you know about the bag... don't tell me you have it?"

"Have it? No, I just know you guys found it there."

Ailios's expression turned sour.

"I'm just kidding." Friseal took a seat. "I found the bag before I rescued Luthis inside the temple. It's in the locker room below. Should I bring it here?"

Ailios straightened in his seat and pulled his feet down from the dashboard. "You definitely should," he said. Ailios wondered what happened to the chameleon as he watched him open the hatch and go down the ladder bolder than ever. He was the biggest craven I have ever seen. "Did you give him any drugs while we were fighting on Timor?" he asked Olivia.

"He's not as craven as you think."

"I notice that now, but he's not exactly how I remember him to be."

She smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, let's just say that you're not the only one with secrets."

Ailios didn't like the sound of that.

I hope you're secretly in love with me – he definitely liked the sound of that.

Olivia widened her smile. "Yeah, maybe when we are reborn and our memories completely erased. Well, maybe not even then."

"You know, they never extracted any DNA samples from me," said Ailios. "It's now or never."

"Then too bad for you," said Olivia and turned to caress the leaves of a flower.

Friseal came back inside the bridge, carrying the bag over his shoulder. He let it drop next to the tilted seat where Ailios was being cleaned and stitched not long ago. "Damn, this thing's heavy," Friseal groaned. He took out the golden hand first, examined it, put it aside. He took out the Cyon next, holding him with two hands on its midsection. Ailios stood up and helped Friseal put the Cyon on the seat. The leather still smelled of alcohol. Too bad it couldn't help the Cyon as it helped me.

His ruby eye was even fainter now – dark red and going black toward complete shutdown.

Friseal took a step away from him. He put his hands on his waist. "What do you plan to do with him?"

Ailios didn't know yet. He hoped the Cyon would have some answers about the sect, to give him some directions where to go next, but he didn't know how to make the metal head talk. He needed a Cyon doctor to fix him first.

Olivia put the spraying bottle in a drawer under the plants, and she ambled closer to the Cyon. "He looks dead," she said.

"He's not dead," said Ailios. Not yet, at least. He wondered if they could kidnap a doctor from one of the Cyon battleships and make him repair this one.

"Ha! You're insane," said Olivia. "They would never let us get close to a battleship, let alone land on it."

"I didn't say we should do it, I was merely considering our options."

"Well, I am telling you it's impossible. You better think of something else."

The entire Cyon population was on their way to Talam. What else was there to think of? Ailios put his hand under his chin. "What about Palatine?" he asked.

"What about Palatine?" Olivia asked. Then she realized what he meant. "Oh, you can't be serious."

"Why not? You said every fighting-capable Cyon along with every ship they have are on their way to Talam. There has to be some fighting-incapable doctor left on their entire planet, don't you think?"

"What I think is you are crazy."

"Friseal? What about you? You think we have a chance to do this?"

"I don't know, team leader. I'm thinking if the Cyon here truly knows what happened on Timor. What if he was there by accident? We would be risking our lives for nothing."

"Cyons hate ancient temples, you both know that," said Ailios. "They are rarely seen inside of them. They call them bases even – how disrespectful can that be?" He jabbed his finger at the Cyon. "He was there for a reason. He knows something. We just have to make him talk."

Friseal shrugged. "You're the team leader."

Ailios looked at his pilot. "Olivia?"

"I am definitely opposed. We'll have a better chance landing on a battleship. You do realize they have planetary defenses? You know, those big cannons that can wipe us out before we can even reach the surface? And once we land, then what? You don't think they can recognize us? I don't know if you noticed, but we don't exactly look like Cyons."

"They won't recognize us," Ailios said. "I've traded artifacts with human-looking Cyons before. They had skin and hair and they dressed like us. They even had a bloody brute with them..."

"...but those were cybernetic copies, not the real thing."

"And you can tell the difference?"

Olivia shrugged.

"No one can. At first I thought they were one of us. So trust me on this, they won't think we are some crazy Bions, as they call us, who decided to land on their home world in the middle of an all-out assault on our planet."

Olivia considered what Ailios said. "What about the cannons?" she asked. "How do we deal with them?"

"You said we have spies... is there anyone left on Palatine? Can you contact them?"

"We have to get closer for that. But as far as we know our spy can be on his way with the Cyon fleet."

"...Or still on Palatine. I say we take our chances."

Friseal nodded. "It does sound crazy, but it's still better than going head-on against four hundred ships and the full might of the Empire. I think this plan might work if we can find a doctor."

Olivia shook her head. "You're both insane."

Ailios nodded. "You said that already. But insane or not, if this works we'll be one step closer to saving our planet."

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "If that Cyon has no clue what happened on Timor; if some of us die on Palatine, I'll plant such terrible thoughts in your head that you'll regret accepting this mission."

Ailios didn't like the sound of that, but nodded again. "Fair enough."

She stared at him for a long moment. And then she turned and sat on her seat. "Major Ailig," she spoke over the dashboard, "we are changing course." Olivia briefed him on their next move, and few more buttons later, their trajectory was changed by almost hundred and eighty degrees.

They were on their way to the Cyon home world.
LUCIUS

It took them three days to reach Palatine. Three excruciating days full of preparations to storm the palace and win back the throne. Lucius trained his soldiers in deadly hand-to-hand combat and all sorts of tricks that his personal guard Carus had once taught him. The entire ship was transformed in a drill station and every few hours the cargo crates were rearranged to simulate different settings. His nine soldiers were separated in two groups of six against three, where the six always defended the cargo hold. Three soldiers had to be clever enough and able to breach their defenses and steal Arrius's sword, which was used as a mission objective. The only respite they got was to recharge their bodies for the next round. Lucius was determined to make them the deadliest group that every served the Empire, no matter what. It only saddened him not to be able to show these moves and combos, but explain them with words. Some of his soldiers had difficulty understanding him – like using the grav-boots to maneuver on the walls – and that really frustrated him. Thankfully, Helvius and Bruttius were fast learners. They tried their best that this lack of communication goes by almost unnoticed; to those that couldn't understand they would demonstrate themselves. All in all three days were enough to improve their skills and even by little to increase their chance of success in the upcoming battle.

On the fourth day they landed the Power Comet in the outskirts of ancient ruins, approximately seventy klicks from the capital. Lucius didn't want to land inside the city as the remaining dockworkers might have wondered where the Power Comet's crew was. He wanted to avoid raising the alarm and clashing with the defenders until he could find out their exact numbers and strength. But whatever that may be, he knew he was outnumbered.

For a moment he wondered if he did the right thing to leave one of his soldiers behind to guard the ship's crew. Even Arrius thought it unwise. "One man can make a difference between victory and defeat," he said. "Better to have the crew in forced sleep, than to waste a man like that." But Lucius didn't tell him the real reason behind the abandonment. There was a full shipment of mini fuel cells inside as well. In case their group needed backup in the assault, the soldier could make the fuel cells unstable and drop them from above. It would replace an air support or maybe even create a diversion, and it would be good knowing they had that option in their sleeve if need be.

Now, eight soldiers plus Captain Arrius and Emperor Lucius walked across the wasteland through winds and dust and treacherous ground that seemed to shift every time the wind would blow. The group had covered their bodies from head to toes with rags they found in one of the Power Comet's crates. Even the weaponry they carried with them was nicely covered and protected from the dust and curious eyes they might encounter. But once the winds would pick up, Lucius knew nothing could protect them as a shelter would. They had to reach the city before that. The sky above their heads had a hue of morning blue, the pale sun beamed lightly above the horizon, but the winds dragged dark clouds from the west. Soon they would hide the sun and end the day with heavy rainfall. It was always like that. The terrain under their feet was another obstacle. It was riddled with holes and craters of various sizes, concealed deftly by the sand. Some of those holes were enough to break a leg or a foot to those who weren't careful. The group had to tread carefully.

Actually, they had to tread carefully, but not the emperor. He was strapped on Arrius's back like a backpack, separated from the captain's body by his blue cloak. It was uncomfortable, it was humiliating, but it was the only way.

Fortunately for him time was passing by faster than Lucius thought it would. Maybe because he left his pride somewhere along the road of claiming his throne. Or maybe because he was enveloped in his thoughts and tried to find a way to sneak into his palace without fighting. Whichever it was, it made the walk bearable. But it also made his capital drew closer, and he had no specific plans on how to get in.

The robot guardians were easy to handle, he knew that quite well. He just had to say a keyword and they would instantly deactivate. He used that trick every time one of the robots tried to stop him from escaping the palace. But the real obstacle that his mind couldn't get over was the automated defense system. The palace was deserted and the system would be active and triggered by anyone who failed to pass their visual scan. The main problem was that turrets and traps guarding the corridors were well hidden inside the floor, the walls, the ceiling even, and no one knew their exact position as they shifted every twenty-four hours. One thing was certain though – he couldn't leave this task in the hands of a group of soldiers that never entered the palace before. He needed a body if he was to succeed.

Four hours into the walk, the wind picked up in speed and the group found themselves surrounded by an orange mist biting through joints and limbs. Even the rags weren't enough to keep the dust from getting through. And it wasn't just that. Lucius strained his eyes but found it almost impossible to see anything that was more than twenty meters away. He was certain that if it weren't for the cranial computers the group would've been lost by now.

Fifteen minutes later, the wind whooshed louder and louder, and pushed them back harder and harder. The soldiers leaned forward, their full weight at an angle but it was still not enough. The wind was winning the fight. They struggled like that for a while until a forlorn building became visible to their right. Lucius decided his men should take a rest and cool their bodies and wait for the winds to slow down. It was pointless wasting energy like this.

They found the building windowless and mostly empty, only worn out paintings on the walls proved that someone used to reside here. Maybe people still sheltered in the building as its tick walls proved quite valuable in weather like this. Arrius activated his flashlight with wide beam and took a seat on a round rock next to the wall. Lucius came down with him. Two of his soldiers that carried the crates with Lucius's new body put them on the ground and joined the rest in removing the rags from their bodies. They tapped them and flapped them to clean the dust.

Lucius moved his eyes from his men to the crates, craving to have their contents on him. "Has the doctor replied to you?" he asked the captain.

Captain Arrius pulled the scarf off his head and rubbed his skin. He then half turned. "Not yet. But he will."

That wasn't good. "What if he is not on Palatine?"

"I think he had his share of wars. I doubt he will join another."

"Do you know at least where he is located?" Lucius asked.

"Last time I heard he was in the city slums. Though he may have moved by now."

Lucius would've been angered by the thought of visiting that area not long ago when he was the prince, the perfect golden man. He was still disgusted to go as low as the slums, it was true, but he cared only about his body now. He was willing to give anything to have it.

"If he is there, do you think we will be able to find him?"

"I believe so. In an abandoned city that shouldn't be a problem. We can ask here and there, someone will certainly know."

An hour later they resumed their walk. The winds were slowly dying down, and by the time the city walls became visible in the distance there were almost no winds and no dust whooshing around. But now the sky was heavily overcast and thunderstorms brewed fowl weather somewhere above.

Lucius found himself staring over the city for a while. He couldn't help but notice how little traffic there was. No quadcopters traversed over their heads, no shuttles landing or launching into space. Not to mention merchant ships coming or going from the docks. The only transportation that did move was two garbage disposal ships that took off into space to dump their cargo. And those ships were automated. They would find a city of ghosts like the ancient ruins they left behind, Lucius was certain.

Helvius was the first to activate his grav-boots once they reached the walls. He started walking up. Bruttius went after him while the rest waited for a status report.

Lucius tried to recall the height of the walls as he watched both men ascend toward the darkening skies. Was it hundred and fifty meters or two hundred? He couldn't remember. For a moment he wished Doctor Modius didn't remove his cranial computer. It always came in handy in spitting useless information while waiting.

Heads up – sent Helvius once he disappeared out of sight – We have movement inside the city.

Movement? What could possibly move in a city of ghosts, Lucius wanted to ask. But decided to wait and see the answer for himself.

Bruttius dropped a cable from above on which one of the emperor's men attached the silver crates. The cable whizzed, pulling the crates up.

Be careful, Bruttius – Lucius sent to the man – unless you want to spend more time in a dungeon. We do not have any spare limbs, remember that.

I will guard them with my life, Your Highness.

Everyone else activated their grav-boots and started their ascent. It was only Lucius who felt utterly useless. He couldn't keep his mind off from having a pair of legs, from walking and climbing and running and jumping, and using those legs to get his throne back.

Soon...

They reached the top and Arrius climbed over a handrail. Above his shoulder Lucius peered as much as he could to find out what the movement was. It turned out they didn't find a city of ghosts as he thought they would, but a city of chaos and destruction and filth. The entire city was covered in orange sand and garbage, and everyone who lived in the city slums was now in the upper parts, scavenging and stealing from houses of the rich, and throwing their furniture and belongings on the streets. The sound of metal against metal echoed across the city, occasionally interrupted by discharging beam weapons that gave flashes of light in the otherwise unlit streets.

Thieves, Lucius thought angrily. If he had his throne and the command over his military force, he would've had these wretched thieves executed on spot.

"The power grid is down," said Arrius.

A group of not more than ten people with pipes and pistols in their hands decided that no power meant free pass toward the palace, so they ran for it. It was quite obvious what they wanted to achieve. And then two turrets arose from the floor at the entrance and sliced into them. Synthetic skin melted and metal shattered and fell off their bodies. Lucius winced at the thought that the same might happen to him and his men if they weren't careful.

Arrius half turned his head, but Lucius was first to say, "The palace has its own power supply, if that is what you wanted to ask."

The captain nodded. "Entering the palace will not be like fighting inside a cargo hold of a merchant ship."

Lucius didn't bother to reply to that. He asked, "Is there any word from the doctor?"

Arrius shook his head this time. "I am afraid no, Lucius."

Damn him. Lucius raised his voice. "Okay, soldiers. We came here to take my throne back and that is what we shall do." They all nodded and if Lucius could see their faces under their helmets he was certain they had wide smiles on their faces. "But first we find the doctor. I intend to walk inside my palace."

They slammed their boots on the rampart and roared "Lucius!" in a single voice.

Bruttius prepared the crates for their descent. Everyone else stopped at the handrail overlooking the city. They exchanged quick glances, and when the emperor nodded they all jumped.

The landing sent jolts of pain into Lucius's head, but he bit his scream. He was an emperor, not a coward.

As soon as the crates came down the wall, the group started toward the slums. Two soldiers carried the crates, two soldiers went scouting ahead of the group, and two walked behind. Only two soldiers remained close to the captain and their emperor, their rifles on standby.

They sneaked behind houses to avoid the main street and headed south until they reached the street that connected Forum Magnum with the merchant district. Occasional flashes of pulse rifles and beam weapons lit the streets on the other side.

"Where did they get such weaponry?" Lucius whispered at the captain.

"Most of the people in the slums are ex-military. They might have raided an armory or two somewhere on Palatine."

"We better be careful then. We do not have the luxury of losing men."

They reached the merchant district without stumbling on gangs and thieves. But on the emperor's surprise there were no thieves that roamed the hangars and storages and no one fought ferociously for its contents. Empty storages and hangars stood tall and silent on both sides of the street. All of the landing pads were empty. There was not a single merchant ship in sight. Maybe landing here wouldn't have been a bad idea. It would've saved them few hours of walking and the improvised air support would've been closer.

As they moved through the district, Lucius understood why the district was deserted. It turned out the mob was here long before they moved to the upper capital.

Arrius avoided stepping on a door that was dented and burned and thrown meters away from its rightful place. The empty doorway to the left was blackened on the edges. Lucius looked around the entrance where burned pieces of metal and concrete were strewed everywhere.

Where did the poor get money for explosives? Lucius wanted to ask. But then he remembered. "Let me guess," he said, "ex-military know-how."

"Indeed." Arrius explained, "They do not need coin to buy explosives. They can manufacture it with ease."

If Lucius knew about this when he was a prince he would've had them executed before they posed any threat to his people. Now it's too late.

It turned out that it wasn't just one door destroyed by explosives. They passed near three more storage houses with wide open holes instead of doorways, the contents inside emptied already, no doubt.

Next to an entrance of a storage building owned by House Pinarius, lay three dead bodies with burn injuries. Two of them were missing their arms, the third was missing his head. Only the door of the storage building remained intact. The explosive must've gone off before they attached it.

Arrius kicked the head and Lucius watched it roll away. He then noticed how tense Arrius became. He was looking at the buildings, at their windows, behind the group even.

"They will be back," Arrius finally said. A lightning above seemed to confirm his worries. "I doubt they will leave this building without emptying it first. We must make haste before they arrive."

Lucius clenched his fist. He wanted to wait for the thieves and kill them for what they have done. But he didn't want to lose his crates. Reluctantly he acknowledged that Arrius was right. It was better to avoid fighting for the time being.

"Spread out," Lucius said. "Heavy weapons on the point. Sniper, get to a higher ground until we pass the street. We will wait for you at the white building at the end." He pointed there, but he was certain that their eyes saw it better than he ever could.

Two soldiers detached beam cannons from their backs and moved forward while the sniper started running on the walls of the House Pinarius' storage building. Two soldiers that carried the crates with the emperor's new body came closer to Lucius. Two more soldiers positioned themselves facing the group's rear. Helvius was the only man who went few paces in front to scout. Once the sniper was in position, the group went onward.

Everyone was silent and vigilant. Their eyes moved from one building to another, from the alleys between buildings to the street in front, from the empty doorways to the dark windows. The group came across remains of few security robots that lay dead next to a building they were trying to protect.

Further down the street Lucius heard screams coming from the west. He turned, thinking it might be some crippled citizen attacked by scavengers. Somehow it angered him that he couldn't protect his people from these wretched thieves. He had this urge to stop the group and order them to kill everyone they would caught stealing. But he knew that was impossible. Once I get my body, though...

It seems clear, Your Highness – Helvius sent. He was way ahead of the group, almost at the white building – We can move–

An explosion cut off his transmission. The blast wave was powerful enough to throw Captain Arrius back and slam Lucius on the ground adding Arrius's extra weight on him. Lucius gritted his teeth and then opened his eyes. Dust and smoke and raining debris surrounded him. Then he heard weapon fire.

Lucius tried to push the captain away from him, momentarily forgetting that he was tied to his back. Arrius pushed himself to the side, then up on one knee, but it seemed he was dazzled by the explosion and fell back down, crushing Lucius under his weight again. Lucius clenched his eyes shut and held back a scream. When he opened his eyes again, a soldier fell next to him, dark smoke rising from the thigh and the missing knee below.

With one hand Lucius detached himself from the straps, and with the same hand he crawled to get closer to the fallen soldier, to get his pistol and fire at the enemies whoever they were.

The pistol was there, almost in his reach, when the ground erupted in front of him, pebbles and dirt spraying over his face. Lucius covered his eyes, and then he felt someone grab him by his head and lift him up, dragging Lucius's wires of his lower body on the ground. A claw grabbed his arm and raised it up. The man who held the emperor suspended above the ground had a grin of someone in control, of someone who decided whether to snap Lucius's body in half. It was a grin of man who had already decided what to do.

"Atilius, watch out!" someone called. The man turned and his head jerked back – a metal slug smacked his temple. Another one hit his head, and he lost his grip over the emperor. Lucius fell down and rolled away as more beams sizzled above him and burned his attacker, jerking his weird body backward. His spidery legs wobbled and eventually gave out. The man was dead before he even touched the ground.

Emperor Lucius quickly grabbed a hole in the street and pulled himself closer to the pistol, avoiding beams and pulse slugs that strafed around him. For once he thought it was good to have half a body as it gave a smaller target to his enemies. As soon as he took a hold of the pistol he turned to shoot back, but all he did was aim and watch how one of the attackers' head exploded. He turned to fire on his next target: a gigantic man with rusty body and heavy legs, undoubtedly taken from a worker robot. The giant had a rifle in each hand and opened fire at the group.

Lucius fired back and got him few times, but it didn't seem the man felt it. The thick metal shook off the beams and he smiled. He kneeled beside a dead soldier and took a heavy cannon from his hands. He grinned as he squeezed it in his hands.

"Take him out!" Lucius shouted. "Do not let him fire!"

In an instant, every blue light and every metal slug from the soldier's pulse rifles were focused on the giant. Beams zapped his body one after another until they ignited him. But the man didn't fall. His grin turned wider. He moved his aim to the soldiers he probably considered a threat and fired a massive bolt that melted one of the crate-carrying soldiers.

My body. Lucius's head spun on the thought of losing it again. "Protect the crates!" he shouted. "Kill him!"

More beams hit the giant, but his thick metal shell kept him alive. Lucius decided to join his soldiers before the giant could have a chance to fire again. Lucius aimed his pistol and focused.

Zap!

And the giant was missing an eye. Another barrage of blue lights burned him and pushed him down, his metal plates melting down like a yellow liquid. Then a bomb rolled next to his crumpled body, an explosion so loud that shattered the surrounding windows. The giant collapsed on his stomach. The rest of the mob scattered and the shooting died away.

Lucius crawled back to Arrius. The captain was alive. Only his right eye was damaged. Arrius said it was nothing, he could still see. He kneeled and took the emperor in his hands. One of the soldiers strapped him on the captain's back while Lucius counted the men he lost.

Two soldiers were dead and one was missing a leg. His chances of taking his throne back were melting down like the giant's skin.

Lucius ordered his men to take the weapons from their dead comrades, and on they went. No one was foolish enough to ambush them again.

The white building was closer then he thought. After they reached it, they waited for the sniper to catch up.

The wall that separated the slums from the rest of the city was further south. The group reached it without any delays. There they sat down for a moment to cool their bodies.

Behind the wall it was the Subura district, the fancy name for the slums. Lucius's father had warned him that the people there would tear him apart for the gold on his body if he ever did come even close to this place. Lucius usually took such warnings as challenges, but not with the slums. He wasn't afraid by it – he was disgusted. Yet here he was, rust and decay of life-sustaining chemicals creeping into his nose. It made him want to go back to the Power Comet and fly to his fleet on Burnum. Almost.

"Have you been here before?" Lucius asked the captain.

"No."

"So you have no idea where to search for the doctor."

"No."

Lucius slowly nodded, acknowledging the difficulty of his situation. "Do you trust him?" he asked.

Arrius looked up as a thunder ripped the sky. "I used to trust him with my life."

"Used to?" Lucius repeated.

Arrius didn't answer right away. He seemed to be engulfed in his memories. "We served on Battleship Hercules together. He was our doctor. But after the Battle for Luna he decided to retire. He moved here then."

"Do you trust him now?"

Arrius went silent once again. After a moment he said, "I am afraid we do not have any choice. If he is here, he is our only hope."

He was right. The only other doctor Lucius knew of was millions of kilometers away from here.

Lucius said to his men, "Once we pass the wall, I want to remain anonymous. Is that understood?" Chorus of acknowledgments followed. "Okay, then. Let's find the doctor."
VALERIA

Commander Valeria managed to keep two fighters and eleven merchant ships in the emperor's fleet. She managed to destroy the strange vessel that came from beyond the system and threatened their very survival. For a moment she doubted that the emperor chose the right officer for the job. But in the end she proved him right. She proved her worth. Until now.

She stared mute at the screen as the battleship and the rest of the emperor's fleet silently surrounded the debris. Many men were sent to look for survivors among the scattered remains of the Aquila's hull. The blue exhaust of their mover packs were like tiny stars, jumping from one piece of metal to another; Stars that were supposed to bring good news. But their reports were anything but good. There were no signs of her captain, or her emperor.

Valeria rubbed her arms. They are here, she tried to console herself. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her beloved captain, and the man she swore to protect and return to his throne. If she couldn't find them alive, then everything she had accomplished in the past few days would be for nothing.

"Commander," said Captain Galerius. He was standing somewhere behind her. But she didn't turn, nor did she care what he had to say. Her only focus was the Aquila, and what remained of her. It tore her heart to see the ship where she served for fifty years, the ship where she met the love of her life, be destroyed in so many pieces. She never thought she would live to see that day.

I was supposed to die with the captain. Then she straightened. No – he is alive. It's the ship that's dead, not Arrius. But she remembered the old saying that the captain goes down with her ship. The thought froze her body.

"Commander," Galerius repeated.

"Leave me be, captain."

"Commander, we've been scouring the remains for hours now. There are no survivors."

"But you didn't find his body, did you?"

There was a pause. "No, but it is known in many cases of space battle that human bodies could melt down by the heat of beam weapons. The emperor may be out there, somewhere, but not whole..."

She meant of Arrius's body, though she didn't say it. "We stay here until we find proof that they are dead." And after that, I will bomb the usurper's palace until nothing remains.

Then she heard Captain Frang clear his throat. Valeria hated this Bion trait he had, the copy of their organs. "I understand how you feel, commander," Captain Frang said, "but that merchant ship might have sent a distress call. Sooner or later someone will arrive to investigate."

"Every battleship is on their way to the Bion home world, Captain Frang. If someone arrives it will be a merchant ship." And I will gladly deal with it.

"What if we don't find their bodies?" asked Galerius.

Valeria curled her fingers into fists. "We will find them. Get to work and reconstruct the battle. I want to know exactly what happened here."

Both captains went silent after that. She didn't hear if they moved somewhere or lingered behind. Honestly, she didn't care. Arrius was down there, and her emperor. It was all that mattered to her.

The moving stars started to extinguish as they entered whole chunks of the hull. If there were survivors, she knew they would be somewhere inside, waiting to be rescued.

Commander – she heard the doctor's voice in her head. She didn't have the urge to respond. Everything other than her captain and her emperor was irrelevant. The voice persisted – Commander, do you receive me?

She did receive, she just didn't care.

Commander, this is important.

It can't be more important than Arrius.

Commander, you will want to hear this... It's about the boy.

The sound of that made her ask – What is it, doctor?

He's awake.

Valeria spun around and hasted out of the bridge, leaving both captains to wonder what happened. She quickly passed by her mixed crew, even used the elevator with some of them, and before she knew it she was at the infirmary's door, few decks below the bridge. Doctor Modius was waiting for her outside.

"I want to see him," she declared, ignoring that self-satisfied smile on the doctor's face.

He nodded, his hands clasped together close to his chest. "Yes. But before you proceed, I want to warn you. He might be afraid of your..." his eyes moved on the overhead, searching for words "...of your cybernetic looks."

"His bones are cybernetic. So are you."

"Yes, well, I would still advise caution. You should've seen his reaction when he first saw me. He was terrified."

"Anything else I should be wary of?"

"Mmm, yes. There is a language barrier between us."

"He talks?"

"He said few words, yes, but in some strange tongue that I hear for the first time."

Valeria noted that. "Do you think he is self-aware?" was her next question.

"What do you mean, commander?"

"He was in a tank. Did it affect his brain somehow? Does he understand what he is?"

"Oh, that, yes. Well, these people have some interesting technology, I'll give them that. You see, it's like his brain grows along his body in a natural way. Once he would reach his peak – which, by the way, I have no idea when that is – it would be like he had a real childhood, a real life."

That intrigued her. "Are you trying to say that he is living some virtual life as he grows?"

"Exactly. One of the tubes that were attached to his brain hit me as strange. I couldn't figure out what it was feeding him with as I couldn't find any chemical traces on the skull. After that, I did a full analysis of the tube and I realized it was a cable. Ancient technology, yes, but its purpose was unaltered."

"Get to the point, doctor."

He smiled. "It fed him with memories."

"Memories." She couldn't grasp the possibility.

The doctor nodded.

"Explain," she said.

"Those memories are supposed to give him personality once the growth process was over. He would have his own history to tell."

"Whose memories are we talking about?"

Modius shrugged. "His creator, some random man, I don't know. But the thing is he's a complete person. Well, a boy, to be exact. He will probably remember his childhood, his parents, maybe even going to school..."

"How old is he?"

"Tank years or biological years?"

"There is a difference?"

"Well, in tank years he is fifteen, although I am not sure we should count the years his body was inactive."

"Explain that."

"He should've grown faster than he did. For some reason he didn't, and I bet that is why his creators left him there."

"I see."

"In biological years he is twelve."

Twelve years old boy. She never thought she would see something like that. "Thank you, doctor. Now, if there's nothing else, I will see him."

"Gladly." The doctor opened the door and followed her like a shadow. They entered the infirmary and then the doctor opened another door to an antechamber where they both waited for the pressure to equalize with the chamber where the boy was. Once the green light gave the signal, they entered inside. The boy was seated on a bed, surrounded by two metal tables with medical tools, his useless legs dangled down. He was dressed in some Bion rags, undoubtedly donated from Captain Frang's crew. His chest and forearms were naked, his skin was almost translucent. The titanium bones and the Bion organs were clearly visible if she looked long enough. His little heart pumped regularly, pulsing, spreading his blood where needed. In his dark metal skull, little gray eyes regarded her warily.

He's so cute, she thought, holding back her smile. "Can we do anything about his skin?" she asked without moving her eyes from the boy. "Can we make it thicker?"

"Maybe, if we had Bion medicine and Bion know-how. But not with what I have. I can probably strengthen his bones, but I don't want to interfere with his creators' technology as I don't know how his body will react."

Valeria made a step closer. The boy's tiny eyebrows hopped up, his eyes widened. His upper body leaned back trying to keep his distance from her.

"It's okay," she said, "I won't hurt you."

The boy mumbled something and tried to move away from her, using his hands to push him back.

Valeria stopped, showed him her palms. "See? I have nothing that will hurt you. Don't be afraid."

Two tiny eyes moved from one hand to another, his eyebrows moved back down. Who knows what sort of memories the boy had regarding her race – maybe they were bogeymen in his eyes.

"It's okay," she said, feeling her smile come out. She took a step closer. The boy pushed himself backward and he lost balance. Headlong he fell on the floor pulling some tools down with him. Valeria rushed to help him, but the boy screamed when she touched him.

Somewhere behind, the doctor called, "Commander! Leave him be!"

Valeria ignored his plea and she grabbed the boy under his armpits. The boy flung his hands against her head, hit her over and over. She couldn't feel a thing from those tiny fists. If anything, she was afraid the boy would hurt himself.

She put him back on the table and retreated. The boy's heartbeat pounded in his chest. His lungs expanded and contracted almost with the same speed as his beating heart. His eyes were open wide, moving uncertainly from Modius to Valeria and back. Little hands grasped the edge of the bed and squeezed. They were red from the punches.

The doctor grabbed Valeria by her arm. "Commander," he hissed, "that was a dangerous thing you did. You could've scared him to death. Literally. He is still fragile."

She hated that the boy feared her, but she could fully understand. The only thing to do was to be good to him, to show him that there was nothing to be afraid off. He will like me soon enough.

The doctor let go of Valeria's arm. "We should let him rest."

She nodded reluctantly. Before she left, she gave the boy another smile. To her sadness he returned with a frown.

Once they were out, Valeria asked the doctor, "Can you fix his legs?"

"Well, I have the same problem as before – I don't have clean prosthetics. Either we find some – which I'm not entirely certain how I would combine them with his organic parts – or we use a Bion DNA and someone who knows how to use it. I heard they can alter their bodies with nothing but a syringe. They can thicken their skin and even change color for camouflage. Though, I think that's rather useless. We can use thermal imaging to see them–"

"Doctor," she interrupted him. "I know what they do. From now on, your job will be to monitor the boy. I want to know of every change that happens to him, even minor. You will make sure the boy stays alive until we find what you need. Is that understood?"

"Certainly, commander."

"One more thing. You said he does not understand our language."

Doctor Modius bobbed his head.

"Can you install one of our cranial transmitters in his brain?"

"Hmmm..." the doctor crossed his arms, thinking. "That's not a bad idea, actually. I can connect his transmitter with my computer. I can feed him words... hmmm. If his brain is like ours it might work."

"Get it done," said Valeria and she left him standing there.

On her way back to the bridge, she passed a group of Bion-looking crew members. They saluted her and returned to their duties. Where do I get a Bion DNA? she almost asked them, forgetting that they just looked like Bions, not that they were.

For once she was willing to have real Bions on her ship, to help the boy...

Her way back to the bridge was faster than the way down. She was so enveloped in her thoughts that she didn't even realize how quickly she was sitting on the command seat, staring at the debris outside.

"Commander," Captain Galerius's voice made her shake her head. "I have reconstructed the events prior to Aquila's destruction," he said.

Valeria waved him to keep going.

"It seems the Aquila sent thirteen children against the merchant ship. Ten of them hit first, the last three hit some half an hour later. We have discovered bodies burned with beam weapons inside the merchant ship's remains."

Valeria's blue eyes squinted. "Are you saying there was a firefight inside the ship?"

"Yes. We found six of our soldiers dead inside the remains of Lightning Bolt. I bet that they tried to stop their captain from ramming Aquila. But, obviously, they failed."

"They actually rammed the battleship?" Valeria was aghast. Why didn't you move, my love?

"Yes. The battleship needed time to turn–"

"Why turn? Why not go straight ahead?" It doesn't sound like Arrius would do such thing.

"I think Captain Arrius was trying to disable the merchant ship before they rammed them. If Aquila went ahead, the merchant ship would be out of the primary cannons' angle of fire. Maybe Captain Arrius was afraid the merchant ship would escape."

It makes sense. But it still didn't sound like Arrius. He would never risk his ship if he thought there was another way.

"Here comes the interesting part, commander."

Her eyes fixed on Captain Galerius in expectation.

"One escape pod managed to launch from the merchant ship before the ships collided."

She was disappointed. "I find that the least interesting, captain." It would've been interesting to her if the escape pod was launched from the battleship instead.

"We never found the escape pod, commander. I think there was another merchant ship that arrived before us. I think the merchants took them in."

Commander Valeria curled her fists. "They took the merchant escape pod, but not the survivors from Aquila." She decided she would hang every crew member from that merchant ship once she finds them, and she would strap them outside her battleship, and then pass very close to the sun and enjoy watching them melt away.

"Maybe some of our soldiers were rescued, commander. We just can't know–" Galerius stopped for a moment. He closed his eyes. He opened them again and looked at her with sudden confusion. "Commander, I have just received report which you might find interesting. Our men have found a survivor on the battleship."

She sprang to her feet. Is it Arrius? "Who is it?"

Galerius shook his head.

Valeria turned and rushed toward the hangar, full of expectation, while the captain followed her behind. She was never truly religious, never believed in their gods, but since they gave her the boy she became open-minded. Please gods, let it be Arrius...

The hangar bay's door toward space was wide open when she arrived. Rescue teams returned inside the ship with their mover packs. One after another they landed on deck. She stared ahead at two dots flying close to each other.

That must be him.

It turned out it was another soldier carrying weapon crates he found in the debris.

Do they know who it is? – she sent to Galerius – did they recognize him yet?

He was standing next to her, looking into open space – They said it was someone important.

That gave her hope. Arrius. It has to be him. She even smiled.

Commander – sent Doctor Modius then – I searched through our cranial transmitters–

Not now, doctor – she sent back.

Now, commander. You need to hear this.

Make it quick then – she sent.

You see, I searched through our cranial transmitters, trying to find a suitable one for the boy, and I found that one of them was missing.

What do you mean?

I mean someone stole a cranial transmitter.

Valeria didn't like the sound of that. It meant someone inside her fleet could be tracked by the Praetorian Guard and the usurper. Have you found who did it? – she sent.

Not yet.

Report to me as soon as you have something.

Yes, commander.

Another group entered the hangar bay, but they too carried weapons and ammo.

Valeria was growing impatient by now, wondering whether to take a mover pack herself and get out there...

...and then a soldier holding a man in his hands drew closer. The man was large and badly wounded, his metal skin blackened and melted in parts. Gods, what have they done to him? She was angry and happy at the same time. Quickly as that, happiness overcame anger. Her smile widened.

Captain – she sent to her man as she rushed to meet him. Captain, I thought you were dead.

He didn't reply.

Captain, are you all right? Talk to me.

She slowed down. Something was wrong.

The massive door toward space closed as the soldier landed on the deck, holding the survivor close to him. He had one functional leg and another that he was dragging along. His head was blackened and burned. The decorations on his body were deformed, melted and then cooled in rough forms. Once the soldier and the survivor were close enough, the deformed man smiled, golden tooth shone. Valeria's entire body froze. Words were unable to come out of her mouth.

"Nice to... see you... again, commander," said the man with his robotic voice. He sounded worse than the last time she heard him talk.

But all she managed to say was a disappointed, "Captain." The ugly, robotic-looking Captain Lartius of the Silent Wind.

She made a step closer to him. Her voice turned sharp and cold. "Now, Capitan, I will ask you one question, and you will pray that I like your answer. If you lie to me, by gods, I will hang you on what remained of Lightning Bolt and I will use what's left of your body as a target practice." Her face was close enough to smell the burned metal and wires from his face. "Where is Captain Arrius? Where is Emperor Lucius?"

Lartius looked away then looked at Captain Galerius.

He is buying time.

Valeria waved her hand. "Strap him on the biggest piece of debris you can find."

The soldier holding the captain nodded. "Aye, commander." He started to turn when Lartius said, "Wait!"

Valeria raised her hand. The soldier stopped.

"The emperor... he... he..." Lartius looked at Captain Galerius and then back to Valeria, "... he is alive, I believe... And so... so is the... the captain."

Valeria ground her teeth. "Where are they?"

"I saw... their... pod when... when they... were rescued."

"Aquila never launched a pod."

"No... but... but... Lightning Bolt did."

Suddenly everything made sense to her. The movement pattern on Aquila and its collision with the merchant ship never struck her to be Arrius's doing, and now she had Lartius saying that Arrius never was on Aquila.

"Where are they?" she asked again.

"I believe... the merchant ship... it was... was heading for... Palatine."

Valeria immediately sent – Attention all ships in the Imperial fleet. Set a course for Palatine. We are leaving in ten. To Lartius, "I hope you have a good story to tell, captain."

His smile turned sour. "The... best... commander."
LUCIUS

Subura was the most colorful district, Lucius would give them that. Each building on the street was a story of its own. Some were shacks made out of corrugated metal and pieces of cloth to fill in the gaps. Others were remnants of old houses of concrete and metal rods. If Lucius remembered his history lessons well, there was a time when the slums were a district full of wealth and happiness. He couldn't remember when time eroded this place and turned it into what it is now, a place of sorrow and grief.

Men and women lay on the ground or sat and prayed that someone would be kind enough to help them. There weren't many kind people in Subura, only thieves and scavengers who were plundering the upper capital, and their friends who were too weak to join in the effort. This was not how Lucius imagined his Empire. There were no poor and no weak in that image. But the reality was cruel and sad.

"You there," Arrius called. The soldiers surrounded someone who sat on the ground with the back pressed against a wall. Lucius couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Its entire body was made out of pieces of cybernetic animals. The legs in particular caught Lucius attention, they were from a cyber dog, and they were broken.

"Where do we find Doctor Axios Felix?" asked the captain.

The person looked up at him, eyelids sagging over deformed skin on the face. The person said nothing.

Helvius took a step closer. "Maybe few coins would refresh his memory."

"Coins," Bruttius echoed in disgust. He pulled the rags off his pulse rifle and aimed down. "I say the prospect of a slug in the brain would refresh his memory even better."

"Put your weapon down," said Lucius. "We are not shooting my people."

Bruttius covered the rifle with his rags again.

"Captain, do you have any coins?" Lucius asked.

Arrius took something out of a pocket from his vest. He held it over his shoulder so the emperor could see what it was. A golden coin with the letter V engraved. Victory.

"It was a gift from your father," Arrius said. "I earned it with my service at the Battle for Luna. It is the only coin I have."

"Anyone else have a coin?" Lucius called to his men.

Silence.

Maybe Bruttius's approach would do. He looked down over the captain's shoulder. "Do you know where the doctor is?"

The person said nothing.

"We're wasting time," said Bruttius. "Maybe someone else would know?"

They went on through the street of sorrow. Whoever they asked only gave a weak look in the eyes as an answer. They either had no idea where the doctor was, or they didn't want to say.

By the time the group reached the end of the street, Lucius lost his temper. "Either you tell us what we want to know," he said to a man that tried to look tough, standing tall and straight. "Or we get the answer by ourselves."

The soldiers hinted to the man that they were heavily armed and weren't messing around. The man moved his eyes over the group and then focused on Lucius. "You think I am afraid by a half man?"

In that instant, Arrius pulled out his sword and touched the neck of the man. Bruttius had already aimed his pulse rifle and fought to keep his finger off the trigger.

"One more word that doesn't give an answer, and your head will watch the rest of these people fight to rip your body apart," said the captain.

The man peered behind the soldiers to see his neighbors waiting intently. "The- uh... the doctor, you say–?"

"Where is he?" Arrius asked.

"He, um, he usually stays at the Gambler's House. I- I'll show you where..."

The man led the group through Subura from one street to another, through gloomy alleys that seemed to grow darker the deeper they went. He could be leading them to an ambush, to take their weapons and bodies, for all they knew.

Stay alert – Lucius sent to his men – this may be a trap.

After a while they emerged in a narrow street where each house seemed more desolate than the next. Only few were concrete buildings. The rest were metal shacks half ruined. In front of them stood a two-story building of concrete and metal, but its door was gone, almost like the buildings at the merchant district. Someone must've been very angry to break the door, and someone must've been very poor not to replace it.

"This is it," said the man.

Lucius looked at the building again. This time he noticed a weak flickering light coming from inside along with faint voices talking or arguing, he couldn't tell.

"Helvius, go in and see if the doctor is there," Lucius said. He gestured to another soldier to accompany him. Both went through the doorway and after a moment the voices went silent.

Lucius turned to the man that brought them here. "What is your name, citizen?"

"M-mm, my name? They call me Gerius."

"Gerius, I thank you for your service. You have my word that when this war is over you will be rewarded. You are free to go."

The man didn't say a word. He just turned and ran as fast as he could and as far as he could.

Helvius and the other soldier came out of the shack. "They say the doctor isn't here."

Lucius couldn't help but exclaim, "What?"

Helvius lowered his head. "It's what they said."

Lucius gritted his teeth. "We go in and we ask them again."

Two soldiers went first. Two more with the crates went second. And the last one, carrying the wounded soldier, went last after the captain and the emperor.

The corridor was dim and narrow. Sand crunched under their feet, carried inside by filthy boots. The light they saw from outside came from deep down. A sharp smell started burning Lucius's nostrils as they moved closer. He didn't need a cranial computer to tell him that thing he smelled was smoke, a combination of burned wood and plastic. Through a doorway at the far end they found a wide room with fire burning in few places, though not to provide heat, but light. One window at the wall across the doorway served as a bar, and a beggarly man with two robotic arms was the bartender. His wary red eyes watched them from the moment they entered to the moment they stopped in front of him.

"May I offer you a drink?" asked the bartender. "I have something that'll freeze your brain." He grinned with a nasty smile of two rusty teeth. "You will see shit you can't even imagine."

Lucius looked around. At three different places on the floor, three groups of people were seated. They gambled, throwing dice. One of them had a brand new heart at the table as a bet. The man next to him took a syringe from the table and he inserted the needle into a port on his skull. His red eyes rolled and then turned black almost as if he was asleep, or dead, and he collapsed on his back. He shivered violently, but no one rushed to help him. Some seconds later, his eyes turned red again and he sat up to complete the game as if nothing happened.

Do you recognize any of these men, captain? – Lucius sent – Is the doctor among them?

No – he quickly replied – Helvius was right, the doctor isn't here, only thieves and scoundrel. I believe we were misled.

Lucius turned to the bartender. "Where is Doctor Axios?" he asked.

"Oh, the little man talks," said the man and chuckled. He stopped the moment every soldier aimed their weapons at him. His smile quivered.

"The doctor," Lucius repeated.

The bartender was frozen, only his eyes moved. They pointed at the group behind the soldiers.

Arrius turned and approached the gamblers. "Where," Lucius demanded.

They stood up, dragging the man that emptied the syringe, and pulled the cloth they used as table. Underneath was a hidden door. They opened it and nodded down.

"Bruttius," said Lucius, "pick a soldier and make sure no one leaves this place. And keep an eye on the injured soldier. You will send him down after we are done."

"Understood," he said.

The rest climbed down a stairway into a narrow corridor that smelled of chemicals and rust. This time they didn't have to walk very far as the door was few steps ahead. As Arrius moved closer, Lucius realized that the door seemed familiar, as if it was scavenged from a battleship.

Arrius knocked. Nothing happened. He knocked again, harder. Still nothing.

"Doctor, it is Arrius. Open up." He knocked again. "You hear me?" The door didn't move. "If you don't open this door, I swear to gods I'll blow it–" and it slowly started to move inward, letting faint red light get through.

A head showed with a helmet full of instruments and two one-eyed visors that could be brought down individually. "No need to do that now, is there?" the head said with a smile.

Arrius pushed inside. The man barely managed to hold his balance while walking backward on crutches and hopping on one leg. He had a tall body, but gaunt. White coat concealed something. Lucius looked down toward his legs and realized he had only one of them. That was discouraging.

The soldiers quickly entered and secured the area.

Captain Arrius leaned closer to the doctor. "Why didn't you answer my transmission?"

The man glanced sideways. "Er, maybe because I didn't want to?"

Lucius looked behind the man, to see where he will have his body replaced. He found the room very small, maybe the size of the infirmary on Aquila. Robotic parts rested on shelves at the walls from his left and right, and blank computer screens covered the third wall from the floor to the ceiling. One inclined bed, surrounded by tables with tools on them, stood in front of the screens. Lucius looked up. He found the ceiling too low for his taste, but it was the slums, he didn't expect anything better. But what was surprising is that the room was lit with red lights from above. This place had its own independent power source, it seemed.

"I told you to come here only if there is an emergency," the doctor said.

"This is an emergency."

Lucius brought his eyes on the doctor. He is old and frightened, he realized. His forehead had a hole from where Lucius could see a piece of glass holding his brain inside. His nose was rusty and his face dented at spots like someone had beaten him with a hammer.

The doctor caught his stare. "It doesn't seem like an emergency to me," he said. His eyes moved back to Arrius. "You shouldn't have come here with soldiers. Do you have any idea what the people will now say?"

"I don't care..."

The doctor shook his head. "Well, you should care. The people will now say I work for the emperor."

Arrius tilted his head. "Since when did working for the emperor become a problem?"

"You think you know how this place works, captain? Subura is not like the other districts where you've learned to live, trust me. People kill you here if you look at them the wrong way. The emperor had done nothing to ease the suffering of this district. People need brain nutrients, medicine, prosthetics. There are two hundred thousand citizens here; that many potential soldiers if the emperor was clever enough to use them. Now they all despise him. Every man caught working with the authorities is tortured in a rather nasty way."

I would never use thieves as soldiers, Lucius thought.

"I didn't come here to talk," said the captain. He detached the straps on his chest. One of the soldiers took Lucius in his arms. "Give him a body and you will be rewarded."

"Rewarded?" The doctor narrowed one eye. It seemed he was willing to stop complaining. "What sort of reward are you offering?"

"When the emperor sits on his throne you will have whatever you desire."

"I need supplies now, not in some uncertain future."

"And you shall have them. Trust me, it will be sooner than you think." Arrius turned to the walls where the stacked shelves were. "Though, I thought you would want something more. It seems to me have enough supplies."

"Looks can be deceiving." Axios turned and moved toward an inclined bed in front of the screens. "I will fix this man only because I owe you. And I don't want any reward for it." He looked at the soldier that held Lucius. "Put him down on the bed and strap him. We don't want him falling down, now do we?" he said. He then turned to the captain. "You have brought parts, I hope."

Arrius nodded to his men and they dragged the crates before the doctor's feet. Arrius tapped few buttons and they swung open.

"Military-grade," said the doctor. "I know a lot of people who would die for these."

"And I know some who died trying to take them," said Arrius. Lucius didn't know if the captain implied to his ship and the lost men during the assault on Lightning Bolt, or to the thieves they encountered in the merchant district. But the doctor was right – the body was worth dying for.

The doctor came closer, tapping his crutches, and stopped beside the bed to check the straps while Lucius looked at the shelves. He was surprised to see that not all of the body parts were rusty and old. In fact, some of them were brand new, like one of the legs that rested on the second shelf.

"Why don't you fix your leg?" Lucius asked the doctor.

Axios turned to where the emperor's eyes looked and then he turned back to Lucius. "Because I love walking on one leg."

"You do?" Who would be crazy enough to love walking on one leg?

"Of course not, you fool. It's because I cannot afford to have that leg."

Lucius clenched his fist.

"Watch your language, doctor," Arrius warned him. "Such words can get you killed."

Axios turned. "Oh really."

Lucius fought to restrain his anger. It was the only doctor who could help him get that damned body. It would do no good if he was executed. Lucius shook his head to the captain.

"Never mind," said Arrius, "just fix him."

Doctor Axios turned back and stared at Lucius. "That leg you see there is mine, but it costs more to sell it on the black market than to use it myself. You see, the emperor doesn't care about his people. He never bothered to bring them a doctor."

Arrius shifted uncomfortably while Lucius wondered whether to punch the doctor or not.

"I sell my parts on the black market so I can offer free medical service to the poor." He took a syringe from a table near the bed and pushed it in a port behind Lucius's left ear. He glanced back at Arrius and said, "Not every battle is fought on a ship."

But Lucius was more concerned about the contents of the syringe. He remembered the man above when he emptied the thing. "Is it a drug?" he asked.

"Not the kind you've seen up there. This one will make you numb. You will fall asleep and when you wake up you will be whole again."

Lucius liked the sound of that. His hand grabbed the doctor's arm. "I want no pain receptors." He had endured enough of pain already. "Is that understood?"

The doctor dropped one of his visors over one eye and stared at Lucius for a moment. He lifted the visor back up. "Your eyes are regular. If you don't have pain receptors you won't know when you're injured, unless you get new eyes with visual report." He turned and moved toward the shelves.

"I think I can notice when I am injured," said Lucius.

The doctor searched through the shelves and took two tiny balls. "Now these will do fine for you – if you have the coin, of course. Attaching your body is free of cost, thanks to Captain Arrius, but the eyes cost extra."

"I told you I don't need–"

"Take this," said Arrius. He held the victory coin between his fingers.

The doctor moved his eyes from Arrius to the coin and back. "I had the same," he said. "But I sold it long ago."

"Now you can have it again," said Arrius. "Take the coin. I think it will cover your expenses." Arrius tossed the coin to the doctor.

"Mm. It certainly will," said the doctor as he caught the coin. "But I won't accept it." He tossed it back to the captain.

"It's a gold coin," Arrius said. "Take it."

"I know what it is, captain. But I won't accept it."

Arrius pulled out his sword. "What about this?"

"Your ceremonial sword? Do you consider me a fool, captain?"

"It is more than a ceremonial sword. It took countless heads from both human and savage."

The doctor leaned on his left crutch and with his right hand he took the sword. "And what am I to do with a sword?"

"It's made of silver and Imperial steel. You can sell it, melt it, whatever you think will do."

"Hmm." The doctor examined the sword. He did few slashes in the air even. "I like its weight distribution."

"Do you take it or not?" Arrius urged.

The doctor smiled. "The sword of mighty Aquila. And you are willing to give it to me just like that? For a pair of eyes?"

"The Aquila is gone. I have no need of it anymore."

Doctor Axios gave the sword to one of the soldiers. "Put in on the third shelf behind you." The soldier looked at Arrius for confirmation. After the captain nodded the soldier complied. Doctor Axios adjusted his right crutch under his armpit. "You just bought your friend new eyes."

"If you are done talking," said Lucius, "then proceed. I want that body by tomorrow." I have a throne to claim, he almost said.

"Certainly." The doctor came closer and pressed the syringe that was already inserted behind Lucius's ear. "Now relax," Axios said to him, "it will soon be over."

And then the last thing Lucius heard was the doctor asking, "Who is this man that is worth so much to you, captain?" and his face blurred into blackness...

It was a fine sunny day and pleasantly warm over the hills of New Coventry. However, to Lucas it was anything but fine. His father was gone for three weeks now. Lucas didn't know if he would ever see him again. All he knew was that the people his father worked with took him away right after the accident. Some of them said he died, others that his body was terribly damaged and beyond repair. But what frustrated Lucas the most was that they didn't allow him to visit his father and see for himself if any of that was true.

Every night his mother went to bed crying, and in the morning she got up looking the same, almost as if she never slept but cried through the night. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes swollen; the complete opposite of what Lucas remembered her. Now all she did was stay at home and despair. Lucas heard a doctor once say that she suffered major depression, although Lucas had no idea what that was. The only comfort she got was from her friend Mrs. Arlington who was visiting her every day after work. They would sit together at the veranda, drink tea, and talk.

That same sunny day, Lucas hid behind one of the opened windows toward the veranda. He peered between curtains, trying to overhear the conversation and find out anything new about his father.

"Project Eternity will work," he heard Mrs. Arlington say. "Have faith, Alana."

Alana did not respond, did not touch her tea even. It was almost as if she wasn't there, but somewhere else, someplace better.

Mrs. Arlington gently blew over her cup and then took a sip. She put the cup back on the table, porcelain clinked softly. "I talked yesterday with the head of our research division. He said Project Eternity has a green light. Do you know what that means?"

Alana looked away in the distance at the green fields of New Coventry. "By the time they get it to work it will be too late," she said.

"Jon said his team was ready to begin trials with human brain a week before the accident. He said they had a cybernetic body prepared, all they needed was a brain donor."

Alana looked at Mrs. Arlington. "I know what he said." She looked away. "He was wrong."

Mrs. Arlington took a sip of her tea and put the cup back on the table. "You mean about Subject Zero," she said.

Alana didn't say anything.

"They improved since then. I saw a body work with an AI. It was flawless..."

"Human brain is not an AI."

"I know that, but every simulation we have run so far proves it will work even better with a human brain." Mrs. Arlington took another sip of her tea, put the cup back. Alana took a deep breath and exhaled, saying nothing more.

After a brief pause, Mrs. Arlington said, "Mr. Kensington asked about you this morning. He wanted to know when his finest computer engineer is coming back."

"I am not coming back."

"Don't say that, dear. We miss you. Project Eternity needs you."

"The project will do fine without me."

"You know that's not true." Mrs. Arlington took another sip. "Soon, everyone will have a cybernetic body and we can finally live forever, free of disease, free of allergies, free of physical pain. Even BioTech envies what we have accomplished. This is it, Alana. Project Eternity will be in every store in the system – the new flagship product of Royal Cybernetics." Mrs. Arlington leaned toward Alana and spoke quietly. Lucas had to strain his ears to hear what she said. "You know, Mr. Kensington has already sent his lobbyists to persuade the senate to vote for a new law. He needs five more votes to make brain transfer obligatory for every citizen."

Alana slowly shook her head.

Mrs. Arlington straightened in her chair. "I know what you think," she said, "other corporations will never abide by such a law. Mr. Kensington has made sure that those corporations will be forced out of the planet." She put her hand over Alana's knee. "Your boy will live, and what is most important he will not be considered a freak by his friends as they too will be coerced into having cybernetic bodies."

Alana turned to her friend, her expression somber. "You think that is important? Not to be considered a freak by his friends?"

"I am sorry, dear, I did not mean it like that."

"Aren't you considering the possibility that he will be turned into a mindless robot? A mechanical zombie? Are you willing to have Eleanor turned into something like that? Are you willing to have humanity turned into something like that?"

"That's ridiculous, my dear."

"Is it? I worked on the project since the very beginning. It is flawed..."

"...it is not flawed. It will open new possibilities."

Alana stood up. "No, Lora, you are wrong. Project Eternity cannot revive my husband, and it certainly cannot help my son."

Mrs. Arlington stood up as well. "Alana, the project works–"

"Don't touch me." Tears started to swell in Alana's eyes.

"Alana, listen to me–"

Alana wiped her tears. "Leave me alone."

Mrs. Arlington extended her hand. She gently touched Alana's elbow. "Alana, please. Let me help–"

"Get away from me!" Alana flung her hand over the table and pushed her cup on the floor. It shattered, leaving mark of tea on the wooden floor. The beautiful tea cup she loved the most was gone with a swipe. "Just... leave... me..." Alana managed to mumble, and she collapsed.

Mrs. Arlington kneeled next to her. "Carl!" she shouted. "Carl, call the medics!"

And that happened every day, with slight variations. But Mrs. Arlington never gave up on Alana, for which Lucas was grateful.

The boy enjoyed her visits not only because she gave comfort to his mother, but because she brought Eleanor with her whenever she could. Both Lucas and Eleanor would be out in the field, running, playing. Well, as much as Lucas's heart and lungs would allow. Strangely, though, they allowed much more than Lucas thought they would. Somehow he always felt better in her presence.

One day they sat on the swings and listened to the birds chirp. They enjoyed the sun on their skin. Lucas managed to hide his sorrow quite well when she was around. Or so he thought.

"My father died three years ago," Eleanor said to him then.

"Oh." Lucas didn't know what else to say.

"It was terrible," she went on. "When I look at Mrs. Carington now, I see my mother exactly the way she was. One day she sent me to my grandfather's house for a while." Eleanor's blue eyes looked at him.

Lucas had no idea what to say. His little legs pushed himself off the grass but not too much, he might fall again. He kept his eyes down for most of the time when she talked, though he would secretly look at her when she wasn't looking.

"Don't worry, Lucas. My mother knows how Mrs. Carington feels. She will help her get through this."

The metal chain creaked above him as he moved back and forth. "I hope she does."

Eleanor jumped off her swing. She extended her hand toward him. "Come. I want to show you something."

He stopped that little swinging he did. "What is it?" he asked and then felt his face crease in disgust. "Is it frogs again?"

She chuckled. "No frogs this time, I promise."

Lucas jumped down reluctantly. He was certain she would do one of her japes on him, like the time when she hid a frog under the plate cloche. She knew how much he hated frogs. Even the snakes that seemed to be everywhere around his yard didn't disgust him as much as the frogs did. He was disappointed then. He truly hoped she would give him something nice. Well, maybe not as nice as the birthday present, but not something as awful as a frog on a plate.

He took her hand and she led the way running. They passed the veranda where their mothers sat, waved at them, and then turned behind the house where the swimming pool was.

"Are we going to swim?" Lucas asked her. "My mother says I shouldn't swim. If I blackout again, I will drown."

She smiled. "Maybe later we will." She looked around as if careful not to be seen by anyone. "Come." She hid behind one of the wooden pillars between the pool and the house. Lucas could only follow her. He stood right in front of her face, gazing at her blue eyes, at the cute freckles over her nose, and before he could ask what did you want to show me, their lips touched. He pulled back.

"Eww!" he said, wiping his mouth. "What was that?"

She chuckled. "It's called a kiss, silly."

"A kiss?" He saw it on holovision, but it seemed different, longer, and it didn't make his own lips wet.

"It's what old people do when they are in love," she said.

"Love is for people who are weak," Lucas said, not admitting that he was in love with her from the moment he saw her at the door.

"They say a kiss makes them feel better," Eleanor said. "Do you feel better?"

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Let's swim now," she said and started taking her clothes off. Lucas pulled his tee up but stopped when he heard a shout coming from his house.

"Lucas! Lucas, where are you?"

Lucas looked at the door when their butler pushed it open in a hurry. "Ah, there you are. Come, your father is back."

"My fa..." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father was dead, it's what his mother told him every night. But he wanted to see it for himself. He ran, leaving both Eleanor and Carl behind, and he reached the front door where his mother stood with her hands over her mouth.

Lucas stopped next to her and stared out where a black limo was parked. A door opened and the driver came out. He opened the back door and held it for a man in black suit. Lucas couldn't believe what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Jon wasn't dead. He was alive and he looked better than he ever did. His skin was gleaming in the sun, his hair was darker and thicker, and he was... taller?

Jon smiled as he sauntered toward his wife and son. Lucas couldn't help but to rush in his arms. His father pulled him up, his arms squeezing tight.

"They said you were dead," Lucas whispered.

"Did they." Jon pulled his head back to see his son's face. Jon's moustache stretched to the sides as he smiled. Lucas smiled back. "Well, they were wrong." He put his son down and he crouched to meet his height. "Let me tell you something, Lucas. People say lot of things when they are afraid and angry. But no matter what they say, I will always be there for you. Remember that."

Lucas looked down at his feet, then looked up into his father's eyes. "You promise?"

Jon smiled again, under his moustache white teeth shone. "I promise."

They hugged. When they separated, his father stood up and started toward Alana, though Lucius couldn't understand why she didn't move. She was still holding her hands over her mouth. Jon stopped in front of her. He spread his arms. "I am back, my love," he said.

Alana shook her head, her eyes wet.

"Alana, it works," he said. He started laughing. "It works, Alana. You know what this means?"

She was still shaking her head. "No, no, no..."

He touched her hands. "Our boy will live."

Alana pulled herself free from his touch. "Get your hands off me." She retreated few steps back.

"Alana, what's wrong?" He moved closer, but she retreated few more steps. Her fingers touched her temples, her eyes closed. One tear rolled down her cheek.

"Don't touch me," she whispered. "Please..."

"Alana–"

"Don't..." Her head started to rock from side to side and then her legs gave out and she collapsed.

"Alana!" Jon kneeled and took her in his arms with such ease that surprised Lucas. He was never so strong, he thought, but then again – his father came back from the dead...

...And that strange dream slowly dissolved.

I am on Palatine, Emperor Lucius said to himself. I was dreaming. He let out a deep breath.

"He is awake," Lucius heard someone say.

He didn't open his eyes yet. His mind jumped back to his dream, realizing how much he started to hate his dreams. They were a story of another life, of something completely different, unknown to him. He wanted it to end.

"Lucius, can you hear my voice?" someone said. It was Arrius. I told him no names.

Lucius opened his eyes, waited for the brightness to recede. He was still strapped on the bed, just like he was before the doctor injected him with the drug.

"I can hear you," the emperor said. Arrius exhaled in relief.

"Thank you, my friend," Arrius said. "You will be rewarded for this."

Doctor Axios said, "I need medical supplies..."

"...and you shall have them."

The doctor came closer to Lucius. "You were dreaming," he said, but not as a question and not in their tongue, Lucius realized with delay.

"Sometimes," Lucius said, suddenly aware that he replied in the same tongue of his dreams.

The doctor removed a strap from Lucius's chest. "You talked while you slept," he said in Imperial this time.

"The language," Lucius said. "How do you...?"

The doctor smiled as he removed another strap over Lucius's abdomen. "I dream as well. In my dreams I am a doctor. A very old doctor." He removed another strap. "But I work on organic bodies, not cybernetic."

How is that possible? Lucius wondered. He also dreamed that he had an organic, almost Bion-like body.

"My dreams are always different," said the doctor, "but they unravel in a sequence – one day at a time, two days, sometimes weeks. I live another life in my dreams."

"That is ridiculous," said Arrius. He was standing next to the doctor, watching him untie his emperor. "We do not dream. Or at least we do not remember our dreams."

"That's a huge misconception." The doctor unbuckled a strap on Lucius's waist. "Do you know when people start to dream?" he asked. "It's called NDE – near-death experience." He looked at the emperor. "I believe you had one when you lost your arm and your lower body."

Actually I lost my entire body and it wasn't the one you removed. Though Lucius didn't say it.

"I was in the Battle for Luna with the captain here. Our ship was assigned with something we considered a suicide mission. Armed with the best weapons and stealth technology, we were to go around Luna and attack the Bion fleet from behind while the rest of our ships kept them busy. The maneuver was a success, mind you, but our ship got blown to pieces by a Bion cruiser right after we destroyed five of them. Most of our crew reached the escape pods and left as fast as they could. I had no such luck. A rather large piece of the overhead smashed my lower body inside the infirmary." He unbuckled a strap from below Lucius's waist. "I was stuck there for three weeks, floating helplessly in the ship's debris. I thought I would die from oxygen deprivation. I can still remember when everything turned black. But then something remarkable happened. The world got its colors back – more colors than I was usually used to seeing. It was another world, and I was there. I had a wife, three daughters, I was... happy. Fortunately or not, I woke up. Captain Arrius came back for me. He found me crushed under the overhead. He brought me home. It was not the home I dreamed off." He pursed his lips. "Once I came back on Palatine, I decided to make the world a better place, just like it was in my dreams."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lucius asked.

The doctor removed another strap below Lucius's waist. "Have you ever heard of a man called Servius?"

"A servant?" It's what the name meant.

"The man lived and worked in the graveyard."

"Only autonomous machines work there. And no one lives there."

"Indeed they don't." He unbuckled a strap over Lucius's thigh. "But Servius did. He was punished by birth to work where no man will ever work, where no man will ever see him or talk to him. He was punished to be alone for all eternity."

"These stories are ridiculous," said Arrius. "Untie the man, we have work to do." The doctor looked at Arrius but didn't reply.

Lucius was intrigued by this story, however. Maybe the doctor knew how to stop his dreams, or what they meant. Instead he asked, "Why would the gods punish him?"

Doctor Axios smiled. "One day," he said, "a garbage disposal shuttle malfunctioned. One of its bins detached during liftoff and fell back to Palatine... it fell back over Servius's little hut in the graveyard. It took weeks until one of the engineering teams went to investigate the accident. By sheer luck they found his body under the bin, smashed beyond recognition. Since he lived there, he couldn't afford to be repaired. So they put him in the next shuttle for space. The bartender you saw in the Gambler's House above, told me of this unfortunate soul. One of the engineers told him when they stopped for a drink.

That evening before the shuttle was launched, I decided to go to the graveyard and help the man. I searched through every bin that was scheduled to leave Palatine that night. They were almost a hundred of them, awfully smelling things I tell you. Eventually, though, I found him. Poor man. You couldn't even begin to imagine how he looked. His body was pressed like a tin foil, wires dangled, liquid dripped from his heart, but his eyes remained. His eyes were all sorrow. The man lived a terrible life and he was sentenced for a terrible death. I couldn't let that happen. I put him over my shoulders and I carried him all the way here." He stopped, eyes fixed on the floor, and then he smiled on the memory. "I fixed him. I gave him a body, a whole new body. It wasn't anything good, to be certain, but it was good enough for primary functions. He could walk, run maybe, talk, move his hands to get what he needs..." The doctor looked at Lucius's eyes. "You know, I thought he would be grateful for what I did, but you know what he said to me when he opened his eyes? He said: this is not my life.

"It was the NDE, you see. We dream of better places, of events that may have happened, somewhere, somehow. Servius said he was happy in the life he discovered. I unstrapped him from the same bed you are now in and I watched him walk away from me. But before he was out, he turned and he said, I'm going to get my life back. I suggest you do the same." The doctor removed the final strap under the right knee.

Lucius didn't stand up yet. "What happened next?" he asked. "Where is Servius now?"

The doctor shrugged. "Living his life, no doubt."

"Is it done?" Arrius asked.

"I never heard of him again..."

"I meant the straps."

"Yes. Congratulations," the doctor said to Lucius. "You have a new body."

Lucius stood up from the bed, stepped down with legs, true legs, and a body of a soldier. But his mind was on the story he just heard. Three people dreamed similar dreams. With one difference; Lucius wasn't happy in his.

"How does it feel?" Arrius asked him. Helvius and another soldier came closer.

Lucius flexed his arms, curled his fingers, clenched his fists. He kneeled and then jumped lightly. It felt remarkably well to be whole again. "I feel ready."

The soldiers went out first while Arrius said his goodbyes with his old friend. And then the captain left, leaving only Lucius behind.

"What you did for me," Lucius said, "just know that it will not be forgotten."

The doctor tapped Lucius on his shoulder. "I hope it won't be." Lucius turned to leave, and the doctor said, "It wasn't the gods." Lucius stopped. He turned. "It wasn't the gods who punished Servius," Doctor Axios repeated.

"Who was it then?"

Doctor Axios nodded thoughtfully. "I think you will find the answer for yourself."
AILIOS

"How does it look? Are we going to make it?" Ailios asked. He tried to sound as calm as possible although he wasn't sure he did. His voice might have quivered there for a moment, he couldn't tell. It even took a while to realize how tightly he had squeezed the armrest with his hands. It might have drawn some blood for all he knew. The sweat that trickled down his forehead gave a slight stinging sensation on his stitched bullet wound, but he ignored that as well. They were entering the Cyon home world. What could be worse than that? Just look at how angry it stares at us. The planet took the entire window with its gray clouds and orange sands. Here and there blue oceans could be seen, though they never made Palatine look any prettier.

"I told you to be quiet," said Olivia. "I'm trying to focus."

And quiet he was. Until I see a red light beaming toward us. Then he would scream he was certain. Did I scream when the bullet hit my head? He couldn't remember. He only hoped he wouldn't find out.

Friseal was also quiet, and so was Luthis who woke up few hours ago, demanding to know who killed his mother until he realized he had a bad dream. Whatever Friseal gave him must've been some serious pain-killing drug.

I could use some of it now. Maybe I will dream of Olivia in my bed. He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. But she didn't utter a sound. She's too focused to be bothered by my thoughts. That was good. He could finally show some fear without worrying not to look weak in her eyes.

The archeologist was with them on the bridge as well. He kept begging them since he woke up to go back to Talam and search for Eve. He said it was the only way to stop the Cyons. But no one really paid any attention to him. What Ailios truly paid attention to was Friseal's calmness. It angered him not to know what happened to the frightened chameleon. And I probably never will, he thought grimly, imagining how a light beam halves their ship in mid air.

For a while, though, it didn't happen. It was almost as if the Cyons allowed them to enter their upper atmosphere for some reason. The ship passed through the thickening air with the usual turbulence and fiery heat. Once they entered the layers of clouds he realized that they weren't as gray as the ones on Talam, though they were just as sinister.

And then a light flashed. For a moment Ailios thought they were attacked by the planetary defenses, but it turned out it was only a lightning. Their entire ship was surrounded by thunderstorms in a cloudy grayness of their steep descent.

Under the clouds, heavy drops of rain slammed on their windows. I hate rain and I hate water, Ailios reckoned, but this was no ordinary rain. Radioactive, he heard someone say back on Talam. It had dreadful consequence on cybernetic bodies, especially the cheap ones. They would rust away if they stayed long enough in the open. And he knew rusted metal was easier to breach with bullets.

"How much longer?" he heard himself say despite his best efforts to stay quiet.

"We're almost there. Hold on."

Like there was anything else he could do. He tried to peer through the window but all he saw were drops the size of Luthis's ball, splattering down. A lightning bolt would flash from time to time and scare him to death.

"Hmm," Olivia tapped her finger on the dashboard, thinking. "It turns out we are lucky."

"Lucky means being on a peaceful beach, sun warming my feet, and a bunch of girls to give me massage."

Olivia turned and gave Ailios a cold stare. "And today lucky means that their planetary defense grid is down."

Ailios leaned forward in his seat. "No way." That was lucky indeed.

"Yes way. We can fly over the palace, drop bombs, and get back into space and no one can do a damn thing about it."

"It sure sounds like a better plan than this," Luthis mumbled. He was examining his bandaged wrist. "Do you think a limb repair DNA can bring my hand back?"

Olivia didn't seem to hear what he said. "Unfortunately, we are not here for that," she said. "I will gladly do it on our way out. For now we'll have to do what's best for finding a doctor. And that means landing outside the capital to avoid attention. We'll have to walk from there."

"On this weather?" Ailios asked. "And I thought Talam's rains were bad."

Ailios watched through the window into showers of radioactive water and gray clouds until a flash lit up the sky and let him catch a glimpse of dozens of gigantic towers over a vast ruined city.

Where in the name of gods are you going, he almost asked her, but then he realized the towers were deserted as much as they were ominous, a remnants of long gone Cyon ancestors. Olivia was probably going to land behind the abandoned city and from there they would have to make their way to the capital. Ailios tried to estimate how much time they would need to reach their destination by foot in this weather.

"I still can't believe we're doing this for a bloody Cyon," said Luthis, finally letting his wrist drop on the armrest.

Ailios turned to him. "We're not doing this for a Cyon. We're doing this for our people."

"Somehow I can't see a connection between the two."

"That's your problem."

Olivia took them almost to the ground at the edges of the abandoned city when she halted the ship in mid air and let it hover. "Change of plans," she said. "Our spy just told me it was safe to land in what he called the garbage disposal complex inside the city."

"Couldn't he choose some better spot?" said Ailios. "Like somewhere with a view over the palace?"

"He said the upper parts of the city are in chaos," said Olivia, "poor people attacking homes of the rich. We should be fine in the coordinates he gave and closer to the doctor we need."

There was nothing Ailios could approve or disapprove as their team leader. The fact that they were on the Cyon home world made their plan crazy enough. Whatever needed to be done to succeed he was ready to do even if it meant landing on Cyon garbage hills.

The ship ascended back up and headed straight for the capital. Ailios watched through the window, waiting for a flash to light up the city he feared the most. And just as he hoped a bright flash almost tore the sky in half. The vast city spread underneath the yellow dolphin; the gigantic pyramid that he knew was the emperor's palace was dark and glistening in the rain. In front of the palace was the city square they called Forum Magnum, sprinkled with puddles of mud. In the streets branching from the forum, he noticed groups of Cyons running amok. They were exchanging flashes of light.

I hope they kill themselves before we land.

But all in all he was disappointed by the sight of the capital. He expected towers like the deserted ones outside the city, many shuttles and transports flying over their buildings, Cyons walking and trading... and a damn sunny weather. Even a dust storm would be more welcome than rain. However, there was none of it.

"Did you see that?" Friseal asked, his focus somewhere between houses. "Five Cyons against one." They tore the man in half – or the woman, or whatever it was – and then they tore his limbs apart. Friseal made a grimace. "And they call us savages."

Ailios shifted in his seat. "Once we land we better watch out." He hoped it would be an easy mission with no soldiers to worry about. It turned out poor people were just as dangerous as the soldiers on Palatine.

Next they passed a gigantic wall that separated the capital in two disproportional areas. It didn't take long to figure out what they were separating. It was obvious enough from the first glance.

Ailios wiped the sweat on his forehead, trying to avoid the bump. "I think it's time we prepared for our little excursion." He unbuckled his seatbelt. Friseal did the same while Luthis struggled a bit with his injured hand.

The archeologist was the only one who didn't move. "I think I better stay here," he said. "I will be nothing but a burden to your group. Here I can be productive – I can search through the military database and find the exact location of Eve now that I know it's definitely on Talam."

"You do that, my friend," said Ailios. He didn't want to hear anything more about this Eve thing, and he didn't have Faragar to carry the man on the surface. Ailios then turned to his pilot. "Olivia?"

"Just a second." She did few maneuvers and they landed in an open area full of metal parts stained with blue liquid. There were tons of cables and all sorts of Cyon junk, swimming in water. What seemed funny to Ailios was that the area was surrounded by rusty walls, as if someone was going to come and steal the garbage.

Olivia turned her seat. "You were saying...?"

"Stay inside the ship in case we need to leave faster than–"

"And let you prowl this dangerous place alone?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. "No way, babe." He loved it when she called him that even when it was nothing more than a jape on his account. "And I need to stretch my legs," she said. She turned to her plants, caressed a leaf with her fingers. "Wait for me darlings."

All four climbed down to the lower deck.

"Okay, so we'll need our Bio-suits," said Ailios. He knew the atmosphere had oxygen, but was it enough for humans to freely breathe? He didn't know. He wouldn't risk it.

Friseal opened his locker first. "We have special environmental suits designed for Palatine." He pulled out a box. Inside, black rubber suit was neatly folded. Friseal brought the suit up and let it unfold.

"Special suits, Bio-suits, it's all the same," said Luthis. "They will cause suspicion however you call them." He tapped his finger on the shoulder emblem on the suit in Friseal's hands. "You think the Cyons never saw this?" The blue seal of the united human tribes poked the eyes however you looked at it.

"That's easy," said Friseal. He ripped the emblem off. "Better?"

Luthis scoffed and pushed past the chameleon on his way to his locker. He pulled out the box and muttered more complains as he started dressing.

Ailios peeled off his clothing and put on the lower garment. Then he pulled on the special environmental suit. He then sat to tie his boots and looked up at Olivia. "Where do we meet our guy? Is he far from here?"

"He said we'll need to walk out the main gate of the garbage disposal complex and he'll wait for us across the street. He said the doctor's location is nearby in the city slums."

"Garbage disposal complex, city slums," said Ailios. "And I had high hopes about this place." He smiled, but no one seemed to get his joke. "Okay, team, our mission is simple – we get to the slums, kidnap the doctor, and we get out."

"Very simple," said Luthis. He struggled to put his gloves on. Friseal helped him with that.

"Any questions?" Ailios asked. Once he got only scowls and not a word, he clapped his hands. "Okay then, gentlemen and dear lady, let's get this over with."

Luthis gave him a mocking salute with bent fingerless glove. "Aye, aye, major."

Ailios put on his gloves and then his helmet and he was ready to get out. Friseal was almost suited up. He put a helmet on and turned it until the locker rings clicked. He kneeled, opened a crate, and took out his heavy weapon and then flung it over his shoulder. If it was Faragar carrying that thing it would fit well. On Friseal it looked funny – big gun, small man. Olivia on the other hand looked perfect in her suit. Ailios expected it to be baggy like the pilot uniform she usually wore. He though it would hide her breasts and curvy hips in its shell, but it wasn't like that at all. It was as tight as it can be. She bent over to tighten her boot and Ailios couldn't help but stare. He thought her suit will tear itself, that tight it was.

Thank the gods for that, he thought with a raised eyebrow.

She looked him from down there, her fingers working on her boot. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Tired of what? Staring at you, or thinking of you?" He shook his head, eyes non-blinking, non-moving from her legs. "Never."

Luthis scoffed somewhere behind, but Ailios paid him no mind. It was Olivia he was preoccupied with.

She finally straightened, relieving him from more embarrassing thoughts, and she put her helmet on. Ailios just sighed and shook his head. Everyone in his team seemed ready. After their final suit and weapons check, they were out through the hatch.

Ailios thought it was pouring outside. He couldn't be more wrong. Massive clouds had come down and surrounded them in a gray mist of water. Heavy drops splattered the garbage in never-ending barrage. For a moment they were reluctant to go farther than the ship's cover. They exchanged glances. Luthis had the courage to push past them, taking the first step out in the open. His feet sank knee-deep in water between pieces of metal. He had to wade through the garbage to make progress toward the gate. He turned, his voice echoed in their helmets, "What, you want me to bring the doctor here for you?"

Friseal went second.

"Ladies first," said Ailios. Olivia tilted her head and Ailios shrugged. I was just trying to be polite, he thought, knowing she would pick that up.

"No need," she said. "I know how polite you can be. Go ahead."

Ailios stepped in the open and the drops started bombarding him. He felt like he was under a drumhead where one relentless drummer kept on banging.

The walk to the gate was one of pure agony – their feet sank into the cold stew of metal garbage and radioactive water. Sometimes they would slip and fall. Ailios had the worst of it, he liked to think. Just before he reached the gate he slipped on a piece of metal and fell, sinking into the garbage. Water splashed on his visor where he could see only grayness and rolling drops. He called for help but he thought no one heard him and no one saw him go down. Then a pair of hands dug him out. It was Olivia.

"Thank you," said Ailios as he stood up. He removed few wires that were coiled around his arms and legs like water snakes. "Whenever you want me to kiss you just say the word," he said. "It's the least I can do."

"Simple thanks will suffice," she said.

After that, they managed to reach the gate. Though gate was just a fancy word for what it truly was – a massive tubular passageway made out of an old ship's carcass. They entered from where the engines used to be and went out through the cockpit. At least it provided some cover from the rain. On the other side of the gate they peered and constantly wiped the water from their visors so they wouldn't miss their spy when he would show up, but they couldn't see anything past three or four meters. Then they started walking across the street, their boots splashing in pools of mud and rainwater.

"He's coming," said Olivia once they took shelter under a collapsed wall of an abandoned building. "We'll wait here–"

Everything turned violet in an instant and then a loud cracking sound almost deafened them.

Luthis looked up, peering through the crack of their shelter. "Gods, I hate this place," he said. "I hate thunderstorms. There's more water raining here than all the oceans on Talam combined... why can't we just leave the Cyon here? The spy will take it to the doctor, he'll fix it, and Olivia can relay his messages to us."

"We've been through this already," said Ailios.

"Yeah, while I slept. I would've voted against this suicidal idea of yours."

"This is not a tribal council, Luthis. Whatever I say you guys follow. I thought we agreed on that."

Luthis scoffed but didn't want to go further with this.

"Is that...?" Friseal said, his finger pointing ahead. Someone was running in the rain, holding rectangular piece of metal over his head. They quickly realized it wasn't human.

"Before we meet our spy," said Olivia, "I think you should know that he's been here for forty years. Don't be judgmental."

"Why would anyone be judgmental?" asked Ailios. "He's one of us, isn't he?"

"I'm just saying. He's been through a lot. But his loyalty to our tribes is unquestionable. Every time the Cyons sent a fleet to harass our planet, we knew, thanks to him."

"What are his abilities?" asked Luthis.

"He's a telepath."

"Another one like you," said Ailios. "Sounds great."

"Actually, he's more powerful than I am."

"It doesn't matter. As long as he takes us to the doctor," Ailios said. "He can be a Cyon for all I care."

"He will take us there. In fact, I think that's him." She nodded toward an approaching figure in the rain. The man was dressed in much the same suit they wore, though his suit seemed like an older model and quite worn out. Instead of black, his suit was more like a dark gray. He also had a black cloak and a hood over his helmet. When he was close enough, Ailios realized that his facial visor was painted black as well. The man was completely concealed from Cyons, no doubt.

He first shook hands with Olivia. "It's always nice to see a friendly face here," he said with a stifled voice behind the helmet.

"Thank you for agreeing to help us, Ray," Olivia let go of his hand.

The spy then shook hands with Friseal. "If it helps defeat the Cyons it'll be my pleasure."

Ailios stepped forward. "Actually we have a more pressing concern."

The man turned his visor toward Ailios. It was as if staring at a black wall of glass. "So I've heard," a voice behind the wall said. "You need a Cyon doctor."

"Yes, that is indeed a pressing concern. But I meant about the abominations – the creatures with bones of a Cyon and skin and organs of a human."

"Olivia informed me of their existence, although I haven't seen such creatures here."

Ailios tapped him on the shoulder. "I hope you never do, my friend. Now, if you please, guide us to the slums. I can't wait to see the misery of Palatine."

The man slowly inclined his head. "This way." He went out in the open.

Ailios and his team followed into the street and then into an underground passageway filled with Cyons. Ailios thought the spy was going to betray them, but then he realized the Cyons were injured and old, if barely functioning rusty bodies counted as old.

"It's faster this way," Ray said, "and they won't attack us. Most of them had never seen Bions before. If someone does attack us it will be for our possessions, or limbs, but not because of who we are."

"Humans," Ailios said. He was walking right behind the spy.

Ray half turned but didn't stop walking. "Humans?"

"You said they never saw Bions before. We're humans. Only Cyons call us that." Ailios couldn't hold a grudge for that slip of Ray. Olivia said the man was here for forty years, it was remarkable that he remembered how to speak his language at all.

They walked down a stairway and emerged into a badly lit tunnel where a transparent bowl hung from a long wire from the ceiling and gave light to this place with its flickering flames. That's when Luthis activated his suit's lights. Two wide beams extended from his helmet. "Not everyone has cat eyes," he said more to himself.

The tunnel was quite narrow with rust on the walls and something that looked like wall paintings, though they were long faded. Between paintings there were open doors to both left and right. Ailios noticed there were Cyons lying inside, attached to cables coming down from the walls. He knew it was how they slept but he never saw one actually do it.

Further down, they passed a group of Cyons who, as the spy explained, were gambling and drinking alcohol. At least that's how he explained the syringes emptied into their cybernetic skulls.

Ailios was amazed. It never struck him that the Cyons were the gambling kind, or the drinking kind. Maybe we're not so different after all.

Their visit to the tunnel eventually came to an end. Two Cyons were standing at a metal door. Ray said something in their tongue and the one who spoke back opened it and bid them farewell.

On the outside it was still raining, but not as intense as before. Dark clouds were now hiding even darker skies. Ray said that in less than an hour it would be completely dark and that would make it easier for them to sneak through the city.

They followed him as he led them behind a corner of another ruined building. He stopped there, back pressed against the wall. He wiped his visor with the back of his hand, and he peeked inside the building through the broken window. Once he made sure it was clear they went on.

"That was a hideout of a very dangerous gang," he said. "But they are in the upper parts of the city now. We should be safe."

"Humans safe on a Cyon home world is an oxymoron," said Luthis. Ailios couldn't agree more. Maybe Ray felt safe after living here for half a century, but Ailios was certain it was not how the rest of his group felt. Even now as his shoulder was rubbing the concrete wall, he expected some Cyon hand to burst from the wall and grab him by his neck, and then pull him inside to be torn apart–

The wall exploded. Metal body flew out with chunks of concrete, taking Friseal with it. Another black-gray form leaped out of the hole and hurried to get the fallen one. Ailios felt his stomach clench as soon as he recognized the second man by his appearance. "Soldier!" he shouted. His first reaction was to duck down, to avoid any beam weapons, and then to pull out his pistol. But before he could aim, there was a metal hand that grabbed him by his neck and pulled him inside the shack. Ailios lost his weapon when his hands moved to release the pressure on his neck.

No way, was his only thought when the hand threw him inside. He slammed on a wall. Ailios tried to scramble back on his feet but a Cyon leg pushed him down. All he could do next was raise his hands to show he was unarmed. The Cyon didn't seem to care. He pulled out something from his back. Ailios had seen so many beam weapons in his life to clearly distinguish one when he saw it again. Now he was staring at a big, mean, energy weapon, same as Friseal's.

Ailios clenched his eyes shut.

There were shouts coming back and forth. Ailios thought he recognized the spy's voice as one of the shouters. Then he heard a thud next to him and the ground quivered. Ailios opened an eye just to see Ray's body trying to recover under a cracked wall. The spy managed to stand up, and then he shouted something again at gunpoint of two Cyon soldiers. They shouted back, weapons leveled with the spy's head.

And then all shouting stopped.

Ailios could only hear his throbbing heart all the way to his temples. Sweat trickled down his eyes. He blinked the drops away.

Ray grabbed his helmet with both hands. He turned, locker rings clicked. Ailios drew in his breath. Ray's hands pulled the helmet up, residue air quickly disappeared. He just sentenced himself to death for no apparent reason.

And then he dropped the helmet. Ailios couldn't believe what he was seeing – Ray was a bloody Cyon.
LUCIUS

The fall certainly broke some of the thief's limbs but that didn't stop him to try and get away. He brought himself up on his elbows and knees, and then a kick sent him tumbling on the ground only to end up splashing in a pool of rainwater. He tried to stand up again, but then fell back down as Lucius pressed his foot on the thief's chest. The thief kicked and tossed his arms, but nothing seemed to help. He then tried to push the foot off his chest. There was not even the slightest chance that his patched up body could cope with the far superior body of an Imperial soldier that Lucius had. Every effort to release himself was futile, though Lucius admired his persistence.

"You have been caught stealing," Lucius stated calmly. It felt good to finally say those words.

The thief, however, said nothing. He just wriggled and kicked and fought to push the foot away from his chest. Lucius decided he had it enough and gave that same foot to the thief's face. Metal crunched and a painful yelp followed. What was left of his nose was a hole from which wires could be seen. Few metal teeth dropped into his mouth. The thief spat them. "It's not stealing, you fool," he snarled, "it's survival of the fittest. The old crone doesn't need a hand as much as I do. She is dead anyway. Let go of me."

Lucius silently watched the rain as it washed the dirt from the thief's ugly face. If only it could wash his wrongdoings.

"You should have thought twice before attacking a defenseless woman," Lucius finally said. "Did you not know that the emperor protects his people?"

The thief tried to laugh. "Since when?" Lucius felt the note of disgust in those words. It made him clench his jaw. "If the emperor protected his people, it would've never come to this– ugh–"

Lucius put pressure on the thief's chest, halting any further comments. "The emperor did not force you to steal. As you know, by the highest Imperial laws, thievery and limb piracy are punishable by death." Lucius paused for the words to sink in. "Since every executioner is currently off planet I will carry out the sentence. Do you have any final words?" Lucius released the pressure so the man could speak.

The thief wrinkled his facial muscles in disgust, wires twitched in his nose. "I lost my hand two years ago." He raised his wrist for Lucius to see it. "Why do you think I never replaced it? Because I cannot afford it! Your wretched emperor cares only about his conquest, and not of the well being of his people. I am better off without such an emperor. Carry out your sentence and be done with it."

Lucius kneeled and moved his hand over the thief's neck. He squeezed like it was a Bion enemy. The tiny air pipe was located at the right side of his neck. A Firm pressure with a thumb would be enough to damage it. After that, the thief's agony would soon be over as his weak body didn't have the air capacity to sustain his brain for much longer. The thief's red eyes shone brighter for a second as if begging for a breath of air. His pain receptors must've been screaming.

It will soon be over, Lucius wanted to say. But then he remembered those same words doctor Axios told him. He remembered the doctor's dedication to these people and his anger toward the emperor. Maybe he was right; maybe the thief was right – Lucius was the one to blame for not providing enough prosthetics for his people, for not providing everything he never lacked for.

The thief's voice turned resigned as he said his next words, "I thought the emperor would end the war with the Bions. I thought he would tear down the wall. I hoped he would make us happy." He wrinkled his face. "But the gods are never merciful."

Lucius stared at him. He wanted to say something in his defense, to say that the conquest was for the good of his people, that victory in this millennia-old war would make everyone happy.

They do not see it the way I do, he finally realized. They want something else, something more essential. He nodded, thinking, Valeria was right. These people do not approve this war. It made him feel guilty that he didn't realize that before.

His hand released the neck.

The thief took a deep raspy breath. He then hissed through missing teeth, "What are you waiting for? End it already."

Lucius had to admit that the urge to sever the man's head and smash it under his feet was far greater than his regret for what was happening to his planet, the regret of seeing Palatine helplessly teeter at an edge of an abyss. But somehow he could not execute the man. For the first time it felt wrong.

He looked up then. His eyes searched the weeping clouds for an answer – was he wrong to want to forgive the thief? He hoped the gods would provide him that much at least. So he waited, searched for a pattern in the grayness, a movement of some sort to give the simplest of answers. But the clouds remained dull and heavy.

"The gods may not be merciful," Lucius made a thoughtful nod as he said the words. "But your emperor is." He stood up. "Get out of my sight."

The thief was still lying in the pool. His eyes moved from Lucius to the soldiers behind his back. Lucius looked down at him, and that made the thief hurry to get out of the water, first walking backward and then turning to run.

Lucius couldn't believe what he did as he watched the figure disappear behind a corner. He let a thief run away.

He's not a thief, but a man trying to survive. Lucius liked to think there was a difference between the two. He saw the slums for the first time in his life. He had no idea what was happening beyond the wall, never even thought about it. Now he did see it and he did think about it. These people – his people – deserved better.

Arrius's words cut through the emperor's thoughts then – Lucius, you better come back here.

Lucius lingered over the pool for a moment, his eyes still at the corner where the thief disappeared. He finally turned toward the captain. The tall man stood with a pistol in hand, his blue cape muddy and dripping wet, wrapped around his back. Two of his soldiers stood next to Arrius, their pulse rifles drawn and aimed at three people in Bion suits. The Bions had their weapons aimed as well.

As he approached, Lucius heard shouts coming through the hole in the wall. He remembered then, the old woman.

He strode past Arrius and the Bions outside, and he climbed inside the shack where Helvius and two of his soldiers held two more Bions at gunpoint pressed against the wall.

"How many times do I have to tell you? We are not with the thief," said one of the savages in Cyon tongue. "We were just passing here."

Lucius didn't turn to see what was happening. He walked toward the woman that was curled on the floor, and he kneeled. His hand moved over her shoulder and touched her softly. "The thief has been taken care of. Go to the doctor. It happens he has a free hand lying around." My hand, he almost said.

The woman opened her eyes. They were small, red eyes, like two nearly extinguished stars.

"What is it?" Lucius asked, ignoring the shouting between his men and the Bions behind.

"I know what you do to thieves," she said in a shivering voice. "Please, spare my boy. They took him beyond the wall. They force him to steal. He doesn't want that. All he wants to be is a brave soldier like you are. They never gave him any choice."

"Who took him?"

Her eyes opened wide. "They took him. Pluto's Horde. The death bringers in Subura. Atilius is my boy's name. Please, spare him when you find him."

Atilius. The name sounded familiar. Lucius recalled the merchant district, the attack on his group. The image of the man with claw-like hands and spidery legs played back before his eyes, the same man that was going to snap Lucius in half unless his soldiers intervened. The gang members called him by his name seconds before he was gunned down.

I killed her son. The realization was cruel and bitter.

But the wretched thief tried to kill him. There was no bigger sin than that.

Lucius found himself stunned before this helpless woman, before the hope of those tiny eyes that they would see her son again. He could not find proper words and not shatter that hope.

"I will," he said. "I will spare him." He stood up and started to leave. "Bring them outside," he told Helvius without turning. "Let us leave this woman in peace." It was the least he could do.

Helvius pushed both Bions outside and lined them up on the wall next to their friends. Every weapon was aimed at them, and in return the three Bions that were already outside had aimed their weapons at the soldiers. In seven to five the Bions were outnumbered.

"What are you doing here?" Lucius asked the only man in their group that wore no helmet.

Lucius looked at the black synthetic muscles that moved the man's jaw when he spoke. "We want no trouble," the man answered, hands up showing he was unarmed.

"I am the one who makes that decision," Emperor Lucius said. "Now answer my question."

The man gestured to his friends to lower their weapons. They seemed reluctant to obey him, but they eventually did. "We were passing by when you attacked us."

"What is your name, citizen?" the emperor asked.

"Rayberius."

"Are you a gang member, Rayberius?"

"We are looking for a doctor–"

"I did not ask what you were looking for. I asked, are you a gang member?" Lucius repeated, feeling his patience starting to run out.

"No." Rayberius shook his head. "We are not gang members."

"Then what are you?"

Rayberius took a quick glance at the Bions next to him. "Our friend has been injured. We need a doctor."

Lucius's eyebrow moved up as he said, "Since when do Bions need a human doctor?"

Rayberius straightened, his metal jaw tightened. "You insult me, soldier, to claim we are savages. Can you not see my face? Do I not look human enough for you?"

Lucius nodded. "Human. That you do. But I cannot say the same for your friends."

Rayberius clenched his fists, lowered his head and glared at Lucius. "They are not Bions, soldier. I should warn you we do not take such a slight easily."

These savages were too arrogant for their good. Lucius activated his thermal vision and let his eyes sweep across the group. The red aura around the four suits was clearly visible, their internal heat being dumped into Palatine's air. It was only the human among them who had no aura. Lucius would've killed them if he wasn't intrigued to know why would a group of Bions, led by a human, look for a doctor in the slums.

Lucius turned to the savage next to Rayberius. "You there. Your name."

That one turned his glassy face-shield to Rayberius and then he turned back to Lucius. "Ailios," he said.

"Ailios," Lucius repeated. He took a step closer. "And which human was foolish enough to give you that name?"

The savage made a guttural sound and corrected himself. "Ailius... Marius?"

"Ailius Marius?" These savages consider me a fool. "Tell me, Ailius, why do you need a doctor?"

There was a pause. Few drops of rain washed down his helmet. Then he answered talking very slowly. "We have. A friend. Needs help."

"And what friend would that be? Alasdair the Mighty? The famous Bion general?" Lucius fought that savage once, left him without an eye and with two broken arms.

"I don't. Know Alasdair," Ailius replied.

Lucius shook his head, he had it enough. He extended his hand and grabbed the savage by his facial glass shield. He pulled his hand closer. Everyone stirred. The three Bions raised their weapons again, all three aimed at Lucius, even the beam cannon that the slim savage carried over his shoulder. Lucius's men in return trained their weapons at the armed savages. Slaughter was but a word away.

"Stay your weapons," Rayberius pleaded. He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "We want no trouble." The Bion with the beam cannon changed his aim between Lucius and the soldier next to him.

Lucius brought his face closer to his hand and stared at the eyes hidden behind the glass. He spoke slowly and clearly. "It takes less than a second to break your helmet and order my men to kill your friends. Do you understand?"

Ailius nodded inside his helmet, though his eyes clearly showed he had no idea what Lucius told him.

"If you want to avoid getting yourself killed, you will tell me exactly what I want to know. First question – and try not to deceive me – what are you doing here?"

Ailius nodded again, his eyes never leaving the emperor's.

Rayberius spoke instead, "I already told you–"

Lucius raised his other hand toward Rayberius who understood the gesture and stopped talking.

"I am waiting," said Lucius to Ailius. "Speak."

"I..." Ailius started, obviously searching for words, but then Lucius heard one of his soldiers say, "Captain."

Another soldier said, "Are they ours?"

With his peripheral vision, Lucius caught the soldier pointing toward the skies. But Lucius didn't look up, didn't let go of the Bion's glass shield either. He wanted answers first, everything else could wait.

Suddenly a slight pressure squeezed his head, pressing over his vision and over his skull like a giant invisible hand had grabbed a hold of him. Lucius narrowed his eyes. The pressure quickly turned into a sharp pain that made him let go of the savage. His own hands moved over his head, as if trying to hold back knives that were starting to rip his brain apart. And then a voice slithered within the pain – I told you to leave us be – it said – We want no trouble.

The knives suddenly retreated as if pulled by the invisible hand, the squeeze turned into lingering sensation. His vision cleared, ears sharpened. But a growing whiz pulled his eyes up.

"Incoming!" someone shouted. A massive explosion erupted from the shack. For a moment, Lucius's new body became weightless, slowly going up. Another explosion close by, and weightlessness became uncontrollable hurl. Pieces of concrete and mud were hurled alongside him. He smacked something hard, a wall maybe. The hit blackened his vision, the explosion deafened his ears. He had no cranial computer to compensate for the buzz, nor the blackened vision. All he knew was that his body lay sprawled on the ground, slowly trying to recover. He struggled to get back to his feet, though that seemed an impossible task.

Lucius, where are you? – the captain's voice boomed in his head. It sounded as if it was magnified tenfold.

Lucius cursed. I don't... I don't know – he sent back. His hand went to the side, touched a hard flat surface. He held there to steady his feet. The other hand went to his temple; it instinctively rubbed over synthetic skin. His vision started to clear then, auditory buzz slowly receded. Lucius found himself staring at a massive black crater, surrounded by jagged remains of walls. He was certain it's where the shack used to be. He looked up through final drops of rain, of falling debris and rising smoke, his hand keeping all of it at bay. Ships, he realized. Hundreds of ships maneuvered under the night sky. The savages dared attack my planet? The anger of it pumped his body into action.

Lucius pushed through remains of walls of another shack and came out in the street. Subsequent explosions rumbled around him and hurled debris in all directions. He was looking up to avoid any bombs coming his way, but then he didn't saw where he was stepping and almost stumbled on something soft. It was the sprawled body of that savage Ailius. Lucius considered the option of finishing him there, just one heavy stomp to his head would be enough.

A shockwave of another explosion made him fall back.

"Lucius! There you are!" shouted the captain. Lucius turned. Both Arrius and Helvius ran toward him. Another soldier limped behind.

The emperor swayed as he got back to his feet. "Savages!" he shouted, his gaze moved up. "Come down and fight me, cowards!"

"We have to move, Lucius," said the captain and grabbed Lucius under his armpit.

"Wretched cowards! I will destroy you!" His eyes still scanned the ships above. "Let go of me, captain!"

Arrius did as he was commanded. "Your Highness," he said, "we need to reach your palace and activate the planetary defenses."

Lucius brought his gaze down on him. The planetary defenses. "They aren't shooting," he acknowledged the grim truth of it. He looked back up. "Why aren't they shooting?"

"The reason is beyond us at this point. We must reactivate our defenses or there won't be much left to defend."

Arrius was right. There would be plenty of time to dwell on the reasons, but not enough time to save what remained of his Empire.

Something moved to the side. One of his soldiers was coming out of rubble, flicking dust from his body. A shadow of a speeding ship approached from above. It released a sphere that exploded into blue light before Lucius could give a warning shout. The soldier's body stood firm as the light passed through him, and then he just collapsed.

"Incoming ships!" another soldier shouted, his finger pointing at the direction where two ships were coming from.

The emperor, the captain, and his four remaining soldiers started running toward the wall through the ruined street. Their speed was steady at forty kilometers per hour, their batteries strained almost to their maximum. Lucius thought about increasing his speed, but he knew he could never outrun the ships. Besides, it would make zigzagging and avoiding rubble and bombs impossible without stumbling or crashing into something.

One of the attacking ships was catching up on them. And then it dropped a sphere from its bay. Lucius decelerated to twenty kilometers per hour and jumped inside a shanty close to him. The jump sent him through the metal wall while the bomb exploded and showered the surroundings with dust and metal. The walls collapsed over his body. They were too light to cause any damage to him, but he found the cover to be good enough from other bombs that exploded somewhere close by. Lucius waited for the ships to move away and then he pushed the walls and returned to the street where Arrius and the soldiers struggled to pull out a comrade from the ruins. Lucius took the moment to look around. Destruction and chaos was the only thing left from Subura. If the shacks and ruined buildings in the slums could be turned into ruins and craters, he imagined what the houses in the upper capital looked like. The mighty statues of Forum Magnum, the glorious palace, center of Imperial power. It made him clench his fists and shudder with rage.

"Wretched savages!" he screamed. "I will destroy you all!"

Something started devouring the emperor from the inside. An increasing pain made him lose control of his limbs; everything trembled, ached. A fire burned inside his stomach, a pressure squeezed his vision. He wanted to fall to his knees, to cover up his face and pray that this was but a terrible nightmare, and when he would wake up he would be the golden prince he was supposed to be.

The pain grew stronger, his legs became weak and foreign. It took all the effort to keep him standing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

I have to get to my palace. It was the only way to save his people and what remained of his planet.

Another deep breath and he opened his eyes in a newfound calmness. His gaze swept across his group. They all stood in a semi circle facing him, determination evident in their straight posture and tightly gripped weapons.

Arrius nodded. "We can do this, Your Highness," he said. His hand gripped the pistol on his belt.

I told you not to call me that anymore – Lucius sent to him. He then turned to his soldiers. "These savages thought they can come here and claim our world? They thought it would be easy? We will show them the meaning of a superior race. We will show them what a handful of Palatine's sons are capable of!"

"Lucius Invictus!" they roared and saluted. Lucius the Invincible. He liked the sound of that.

They turned for a straight run toward the wall, crossing through burning buildings and shacks, climbing over rubble and debris while enemy ships cut through the air above their heads and strafed the ground. But once they passed the wall there was no sign of the ships. Lucius looked back and focused on one of them. He remembered the Bion designs, the white gleaming surface, the black glass on their command bridge, the angular wings on their smaller crafts. These ships that attacked Palatine had none of that. Their surface was gleaming, it was true, but it was silvery, not white. They had not a hint of wings, but a frame like a ring that surrounded a cylindrical hull. And their weapons were different. Bions never used beam weaponry before. They must have upgraded their fleet in secrecy.

It didn't matter. They made their gravest mistake by attacking Palatine, and they were going to pay for that.

The group passed through the ruined remains of the wall, and for a moment Lucius thought the bombing had stopped only to realize that the upper parts of his capital were not the focus of the attack. Every ship was flying above Subura, determined to raze the district to the ground and annihilate its people. It gave Lucius chance to make progress through the streets and reach Forum Magnum. There he found panic and chaos overwhelmed the forum. The people had no idea where to go. Their homes in Subura were definitely not the wisest choice, but the city was sealed off by walls. There was no way any poor man had the ability to climb over and escape the attacking ships. They could only run directionless around the forum. One man even tried to attack Lucius for no apparent reason other than panic. But Bruttius put a slug in his head before he could even get close to the emperor.

"Gods have mercy on us!" someone cried.

Lucius turned back to see the heavy smoke rising from Subura, the ships spinning and diving above it, unloading their bombs in wild barrages. And then he noticed some of the ships turning, growing larger, and larger, and larger.

"Get out of the forum!" Lucius shouted at the people around him. He waved his arms. "Ruuuuuun!"

The ships whizzed above their heads and dropped their bombs. One of them exploded close enough to throw Lucius at a statue. The statue came crashing down while Lucius was sent skidding on wet, muddy marble. Once he came to a stop he looked up – more ships incoming. He looked back, his silent palace awaited his return.

My throne.

He tried to get up but all that flying around and slamming on things and the shrapnel impacts on his body took their toll. There was no pain but apparently his body was considerably damaged. Multiple failures on all his joints were quite evident. His right elbow even sparked and twitched. His vision was flooded with information considering all the damage. But he was not going to quit. Not now when he was so close to claiming his throne and activating the planetary defenses.

Lucius got up to his knees and crawled. More explosions echoed around him, more screams and pleadings for help. He then stood up and staggered toward the entrance of his home. One hundred meters away. That much to the salvation of his planet and his people.

Two ships flew past his head and fired missiles at the palace. One of the obelisks took a heavy blow and crumbled down in a cloud of dust and rubble. The entrance was quickly covered in ruins.

"No..." he mouthed the word voiceless. His feet stopped him in place. More missiles were fired at his palace, more bombs were dropped on his people. The ground shook relentlessly, chunks of marble showered his body. Statues crumbled down with fire, his ancestors dying without a fight.

Determined, Lucius staggered forward forcing his legs to take more steps into the inferno.

The whizzing didn't stop, nor did the bombing.

"Wretched savages," he kept muttering as if to give him strength to go on. It didn't take long before the second obelisk collapsed. Now it was impossible to reach the entrance. He would have to dig until he found the doorway, but it was more likely that the palace would collapse first. The only direct entrance now was the balcony. If he could somehow climb the palace walls faster than the bombs fell... If there was only a way...

Growing engine noise approached from behind.

If this is the end, then so be it, but he was not going to stand and wait for a bomb to finish him off. No, he was going to stagger on, no matter how long it would take.

The noise was close enough for him to feel the air stir.

"Lucius!" Arrius called. Lucius didn't turn. He went on.

"Lucius!" Arrius called again. The engine noise almost muffled his voice. "I have a way in!"

Lucius stopped, slowly turned. Arrius jumped off a motorbike. "Take it, Lucius. Drive over the walls. You can get in. The turrets are focused on the ships. Go and activate the planetary defenses before we all die."

Lucius bestrode the bike. He nodded to Arrius in gratitude for all he had done for him. And then with a determination like never before he pressed the pedal to the max and launched forward like a Bion missile. With that speed he avoided every bomb that fell in his vicinity with ease. He turned around the obelisks' ruins and drove over the steep walls of his palace. The wide rubber wheels provided enough friction into the slippery surface to propel him up. And that was all he needed.

The emperor arose from the ashes of Capital City, riding on top of his palace. He tried to focus on the balcony, on avoiding the missiles, but he could not avoid looking around. Countless fires burned into the night. Explosions tore chunks of houses, of temples, of the walls in the distance. It was tearing him inside to watch his city burn. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, just like it happened to the boy in his dreams. But he knew it was an illusion now. He had no tears. He had no heart to ache.

The balcony was there, almost at his grasp. The throne got closer with every turn of the wheels. Once he would reclaim his seat of power, he would use it to activate the defenses and his automated guards. Finally he would be able to stop the slaughter on Palatine. And then he would recall his fleet and transmit a message to every human that the true emperor is waiting for them back home.

Twenty more meters.

Torn banners flapped their golden eagles in defiance. They awaited his return. He knew it. He felt it.

Five more meters.

Lucius didn't even saw the bomb that exploded in front of him. His eyes registered a flash, and that was it. He was weightless again, flying away from his throne and his palace.

"No..." he whispered, his hand extended toward the balcony.

His body slammed the slippery surface and kept bouncing and tumbling down, smashing his limbs with audible cracks. His head smacked hard on the palace's surface, and everything blurred.

Lucius found himself back in his dreams. He was now in the upper floor of his house, peering through the slightly-opened door toward his parents' bedroom. Lucas hoped the arguments would stop once his father came back. He promised a bright new future for Lucas. It was the only reason his parents seemed to suffer. But it didn't happen. There was no bright future, no laughter, no love anymore.

Alana slapped Jon's cheek. "Do you feel it?" She slapped him again. "Do you feel anything?"

Jon took a hold of her hands, didn't say a word.

"You don't feel anything!" she screamed. "You're a robot! Emotionless robot!"

"Alana, calm down, you will wake him up."

"I won't let you turn him into a robot! I won't, you hear me?"

"I'm not a robot. I can feel–"

"Can you? Where is your heart? I can't feel it. It doesn't beat!"

"It's our brains, the neurons ... c'mon, you know that, my dear–"

"Don't call me that!" She tried to wriggle her hands free. "Let go of me!"

"Alana, what changed? We worked on this together." He let go of her, his hands turned toward his chest. "Here is the result. I am made of plastic and metal and wires and computer chips, but I am still human. My brain is still here." He tapped his head with a finger.

Alana turned her back on him and started crying.

"Alana, please..."

"I can't do this anymore. You're dead, and I can't let you kill my boy." She covered her face. "I just... can't. BioTech will cure him. They will. They have to."

"They can't–"

"They will!"

Alana disappeared out of Lucas's sight. The boy pushed the door gently so he could see where she went. She had opened the drawer next to the bed and she started throwing clothes out, then she took a bag and opened it on the bed. "No, I won't let this happen to him. I'm taking him with me," she declared.

Lucas felt his stomach churn. He didn't want to go anywhere, nor did he want his mother to leave. He wanted it all to end, and his parents to be happy like they were before.

"Alana, you heard the doctors," said Jon. "He's got five months to live. Six, if he's lucky."

"Get away from me." She pushed him and started packing her bag.

"This is the only way, you know that. We can help him."

She tucked her clothes one after another without saying a word.

"Project Eternity–"

"Is flawed," she pressed her weight over the clothes.

"It is not flawed. I am here. Alive." He sighed. "I can't let you take him, Alana."

She turned and slapped him. He didn't even flinch. "Don't you dare!"

"I won't let my son die. Not when I have the means to help him–"

"You will turn him into a robot!"

"I will turn him into a man that will live forever."

Alana laughed sarcastically. "Oh, how wrong you are." She turned and shoved her remaining clothes into the bag.

"What aren't you telling me, Alana?"

She zipped the bag close and started toward the door. "Lucas!" she called. Jon grabbed her arm, but she yanked it free. "Don't touch me."

Lucas backed away from the door. He closed his eyes. It's a dream, he said to himself, please wake up, please, please, please. He opened his eyes. His parents were still there. He couldn't let his mother take him away. If she couldn't find him, maybe she would stay. Lucas ran down the stairs and hid under the stairway.

"Lucas, where are you?" he heard his mother call from upstairs. "Lucas?" He hugged his knees in the darkness. He cried.

Emperor Lucius opened his eyes. Fire burned everywhere. Explosions echoed louder than before. Pieces of marble and metal rolled beside his head. Some fell over his body and bounced off. But he didn't move. He just lay there and watched his world go away.

I failed. I am not worthy to be an emperor. He couldn't even protect what was left of his people. He was wrong – his father was way better ruler than he ever hoped to be.

Lucius looked up at the balcony that slowly crumbled under the impacts of dozens of missiles. His entire palace was riddled with smoking craters. The glory of Palatine. Gone.

Someone pushed him. "Lucius, we have to go." It was Arrius.

Lucius didn't care. It was over. He lost his throne, he lost his people, and soon he will lose his life.

"Lucius, get up." Arrius turned to the side. "Soldier! Help me get the emperor on his feet."

A bunch of hands under his armpits pulled him up. He staggered, but kept himself standing. He looked up at his crumbling palace. He looked at the whizzing ships that unloaded their weapons on the streets. He heard the screams of dying people... of his people. They needed his help.

"We need to get our ship here," he said. "We will fight in the air."

"Which ship?" Arrius was confused for a moment. Then realization lit his eyes. "The merchant ship will stand no chance against–"

"I know what it can, captain. Let us move before there is nothing left to save."

Just as they turned to go, a flash of bright light ignited the night sky, rumbling sound spread like an earthquake but came from above. Cacophony of thunderstorms unleashed their fury, the pure anger of gods. Ships exploded by energy beams that fell from the clouds. Through the blackness a single massive form came out, pulling dark clouds down with it. Tiny lights blinked all over the surface. An Imperial battleship. Lucius couldn't believe his eyes.

My people are back, he thought. Tired smile crept down his face. "They didn't attack Talam," he said to Arrius.

"It's not them. Look." Few more merchant ships came out of the clouds, speeding past the battleship. Two more fighters appeared and started chasing two of the Bion ships.

That is impossible. I left her on Burnum. He had to try – Commander Valeria, is that you?

There was no response, only explosions in the sky. Please be you, he thought. And then he received a voice in his head – Your Highness, we came as fast as we could.

Lucius exhaled. Your timing could not have been better, commander – he sent back. He knew he sent his emotions as well – he was proud of her and happy to see his fleet. Secure the airspace and send a shuttle to pick us up.

Your Highness – she sent, worry evident in her transmission – We have a problem. Our sensors are picking up strange readings on Timor.

Timor? Lucius couldn't hold his surprise.

We have multiple objects inbound. Point of origin: twelve klicks from the moon base.

How many? – Lucius sent.

One hundred and fifty– wait. Two hundred. Two hundred and fifty. Three hundred. Three hundred and fifty – pause – Objects are multiplying every second, Your Highness, I cannot get an exact number yet.

Lucius clenched his jaw. What are they? – he sent back.

Optical sensors indicate single-seated transports similar to Caelus's children.

It couldn't be more obvious – An invasion force.

It seems likely – Commander Valeria replied – Our systems estimate that thousands of mobile units are needed for successful invasion under current conditions. The minimum required to assume command and put the remaining citizens under control is ten thousand mobile units, including hundred air support units. There was a pause before she added – Your Highness, we already calculated the trajectory of one thousand units that are currently inbound. They are heading straight for the capital, all districts. We have to leave Palatine, Your Highness. We have to do it now. What is your current location?

The forum – he sent as he looked around. He then paused, remembering everything he saw in the slums, the poor people, the misery, fights for prosthetics. He couldn't just leave them here to die. His people deserved better than that. They deserved better emperor than Lucius ever thought he could be. If he was anything good at it was fighting Bions. Belay that order, commander – he sent – Clear the skies. We are not letting Palatine fall. You will destroy as many transports as you can before they reach orbit. Once they enter our atmosphere you will maximize your shielding output and cover the forum. I will organize as many people as I can to stand in your shade.

Her reply took a couple of seconds – Your Highness, the speed of metal chunks from the transports we destroy would be turned into bombs.

I am fully aware, commander. Make sure you destroy them before they reach orbit.

Acknowledged – she replied.

I am counting on you, commander. One more thing. Our planetary defense grid is down. Send Clodius to manually activate as many cannons close to the capital as he can.

Acknowledged. Clodius is on his way.

Lucius watched the battleship lumber toward the heat of the fight, its engines tearing the sky apart, its guns ripping hulls apart. Long range weapons were fired up immediately after they ended their transmission.

Arrius placed his hand on top of Lucius's shoulder. "Palatine is saved. You did it."

Lucius didn't move his eyes away from the battleship. He said, "I am afraid the worse is yet to come."
AILIOS

Something wet trickled down his nose. Ailios moved his hand over his face only to touch the glass of his visor. He sniffed, the liquid went up. He swallowed. Thick lump went down his throat, the taste of blood made him retch.

It was the explosion, he remembered, the damned explosion. Ailios was lucky he had the helmet, otherwise his brain would've been splattered around.

He coughed some blood on the inside of his visor and pushed himself up on his elbow with a sore hand. He then pushed himself into a sitting position. His back leaned against something hard, and he let his head collapse back.

Just to get some air, he said to himself. And he breathed.

The skies above him were black. It made him wonder how long he was out. He looked down and around only to realize everything was black. But my eyes should've adapted.

He needed a moment to lift his good hand over his visor and try to wipe it out. Slowly, the light started creeping back into his eyes. Only it wasn't daylight. It was flickering light from countless flames that burned and crackled around.

Ailios found himself lost and confused. He couldn't recognize his surroundings. Before the explosions there were shacks and streets and Cyons. Now there was only rubble, fire, and smoke. He looked up again. Not a single drop of rain fell. Instead of rain, beam weapons were exchanged high above, streaking the sky with red and blue flashing lights.

Ailios then tried to push himself on his feet only to fall back again, completely out of balance. His sore hand hurt the moment it touched the ground. He turned to the other side and with his good hand he pushed himself up and then grabbed a rebar that was embedded in the concrete where he rested. He held it and straightened his body to give himself few seconds to adapt. Once he did, he looked around.

"Olivia!" he called out. The shouting came like a pressure from inside his head.

The responses he got were moans and screams. But none of those belonged to her.

"Olivia, where are you?"

He took a step toward a burning shack and then he noticed a foot under a rough chunk of concrete to his side. Ailios staggered there and dropped to his knees. His teeth were pressed together and he let out a heavy groan as he tried to push the concrete over. He realized his back hurt just as bad as his hand did, but somehow it didn't matter as long as there was someone trapped under the rubble.

The foot slid into a small hole in the ground. It turned out it was only a foot. A metal foot. He suddenly remembered there was a Cyon inside the building. It was curled on the floor, probably hurt. Now it was only his foot that remained.

Ailios stood up and looked around. "Olivia! Luthis! Frisieal?" He repeated the names louder. "Where are you?"

Ailios tried to focus – Olivia, can you hear my thoughts? Please, respond if you do.

He got no answer.

Then he remembered, the HUD. His finger touched series of buttons on the side of his helmet. His heads-up display flickered inside his visor. He waited for images and numbers to appear; of his suit, of his air supply, and most importantly the distance to his teammates. However, no image appeared, no numbers, only blinking, formless lights. He smacked the buttons with his palm, and yelped. His head started to hurt even more as the HUD flickered off. It seemed the explosion damaged his suit.

"Olivia!" Ailios tried again, squinting his headache away. "Luthis! Can anyone hear me, dammit?" Gigantic shadows moved over the rubble, the burning shack playing tricks with his mind.

"Over here!" someone called. It sounded like Friseal.

Ailios spun around. "Where are you, Friseal?" His eyes moved back and forth to find out where the voice came from.

"Behind you," said Friseal.

Ailios turned. A smeared, gloved hand waved at him behind a big chunk of concrete. Ailios staggered closer. Friseal smiled behind the hand. His body was pressed vertically between the concrete and what remained of a wall.

"Hold on," Ailios said to him. He put his hands on the chunk, and he put his feet on the wall. He took a deep breath and pulled, grunted, shouted even, though the concrete didn't budge. Ailios let go. He cursed.

"Let me find a piece of metal," he said and started for the ruble on the street. He remembered seeing couple of thick rebars back there. They would serve as a nice lever if he could cut them out somehow. Instead of cutting though, he decided to chop through the concrete with the metal foot he found earlier.

"Friseal, are you hurt?" Ailios called as he chopped.

"My legs are numb, but I think I'll be fine."

"Okay, hold on."

The foot proved to be quite the tool. Ailios managed to loosen one of the rebars enough to pull it out. With the help of the newly made lever he managed to move the concrete back for Friseal to slip through. And then he let it thump back as it was.

"Gods," Friseal gasped as he took a seat on the ground. "I thought I was going to die there." He started to rub his legs from his thighs down and back. "I owe you for that."

"You saved me on Timor, so we're even now," said Ailios.

Friseal winced, probably rubbing a bad spot on his legs. "Good enough," he said.

Ailios turned to see if maybe Olivia was waving from some other place in the ruins.

"Any luck finding the rest of our team?" asked Friseal.

Ailios was looking around intensely, not saying a word.

It took few more seconds of rubbing his legs for Friseal to say, "Okay, I think I should be able to walk now." He stood up. "Let's find them."

They started calling names. Friseal went one way, Ailios the other. But even covering more ground didn't help them find their pilot or the rest of their team. They were probably buried under the rubble, or burned in the fire.

I got them killed. The thought was bitter. If I listened to Olivia we wouldn't have come here in the first place.

Luthis was annoying son of a bitch, it was true, but Ailios didn't want him to die. The mover saved his life more times than Ailios could count. And now Luthis was dead because of him. What a thank you. And Olivia... Ailios never slept with a telepathic pilot before, it would've been quite the accomplishment. But he knew it was more than that. There was something in her that he liked more than he was willing to admit. Was that what people called love? He couldn't tell; he just didn't know. All he ever felt with a woman before was this animal urge to sleep with her no matter what, and to have her among his trophies. But once he would satisfy that urge he would forget about the woman, quickly as that. Somehow he knew that with Olivia things would be different. He didn't just have the urge to sleep with her, but there was a desire to be with her, to smell her skin, to taste her lips...

It doesn't matter now, does it?

He dropped to his knees, desperate. Faragar died because of him. Olivia died because of him. Luthis died because of him. Every human on Talam will soon die because of him, because he failed to find a doctor and discover the sect's main base and learn their secrets and–

Could you stop being pathetic and get me out? – Olivia's voice spoke in his head.

You're alive? – Ailios tried to hide his happiness, but he knew he failed.

I thought you knew me better than to think otherwise – Olivia said.

Ailios exhaled – When were you going to tell me? After I died of depression?

He could feel her amusement along with her words – I wanted to see how much humiliation you will inflict upon yourself.

He sprang to his feet, not the least humiliated. "Tell me where you are?"

If I knew that I would've get myself out. It's damn dark in here.

Ailios spun around. "Can you hear my voice?"

Barely.

Ailios kept talking as he moved in one direction and then the other until she told him he was getting near. He approached something that used to be a house, but now its walls were crumbled under its weight like a pile of cards. Only the doorway and the wall on the same side remained standing.

She was there.

"Friseal, over here!" he called. They started moving pieces from the pile one after another. Some chunks he would pull down and let them roll away, others he would enthusiastically lift and throw behind. He didn't even feel his injured hand or his hurting back. Olivia occupied his thoughts and gave him strength to keep going.

There was a moment when he felt tired. He would pause, draw a deep breath, and then move on to throwing chunks. There was still more to go.

Soon he drew another deep breath, but he found it difficult to do so. He then realized that he was getting tired faster than usual. It didn't take long before his visor started to fog and his body to hyperventilate. This shouldn't happen. He pressed some of the buttons on his helmet to get the HUD back on and do a suit check. The images flickered again without any useful information, so he turned it off again.

Ailios stopped and took some heavy breaths, and then he loosened his helmet to let some of the heat out. He quickly sealed it back and hurried to help Friseal who was laboring to get Olivia out.

At that very moment an explosion detonated somewhere behind the doorway. A cloud of dust arose like a gray shadow in the darkness. Ailios searched the sky but no ships appeared in the vicinity, except for those that fought the battleship high above. As the dust settled, someone cursed in his language. It wasn't long before a figure covered in dirt appeared couple of steps away from Ailios. He stopped in the ruined doorway. Ailios moved his hand to take out his pistol. He groped at his waist, one side, the other, the back. There was no weapon.

"Friseal!" Ailios called. It was the only thing he could do.

The dirt-covered figure raised his hand. "Don't shout," he said. "Please. My head will explode." The man moved his hand over his helmet. Ailios couldn't help but notice that the fingers were bending freely as if there was no hand under the glove. And there was only one man that he knew of who had lost his hand in the recent events.

"Luthis?" Ailios uttered.

"Damn right it's Luthis," said the man as he staggered forward.

Ailios felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. "Ifrin burn me alive," he said. "You're not dead."

Luthis tapped the dirt off his suit. It made a temporal cloud around him. He came out of it half-clean. "It needs something bigger than a few bombs to kill me." His eyes moved toward the rubble behind Ailios.

"Olivia's down there," Ailios explained.

Luthis extended his hands forward. "Move aside," he said.

Every pebble and every piece of rubble started to vibrate, first slowly then franticly bouncing up and down. Friseal and Ailios moved aside to let Luthis do his thing. The smallest pieces moved up in the air as if some god had sucked them up toward the sky. Soon enough the big ones followed, uncovering black crater underneath. Ailios's face softened in an instant. It was the second best thing he could hope to see – Olivia safe under the floating blanket of rubble (the first thing was definitely when she was tying her boots back at the ship). He fought the urge to stay back, to stay safe, but he couldn't do that. He ran toward her. Without anything holding him back, he embraced her. "How did you manage to get under all this rubble?"

"It beats me," she said with a smile behind that cracked glass of hers. "All I remember was this powerful explosion and then I blacked out."

"Can you stand up?" he asked her.

"Well, I haven't tried yet–"

"Move!" Luthis shouted from behind. "I can't hold this forever!"

Ailios grabbed her in his arms and carried her out. The chunks came down with a grumble of an earthquake, the smallest pieces kept cascading down even as the team left the building, tapping that residue dust off their bodies.

Olivia had an injured leg, Ailios had his hand and back hurt, Friseal and Luthis were as ugly as before, but they were all alive and that's what mattered.

"You know you can put me down now," said Olivia.

"I know I can, I just want to savor the moment."

Olivia smiled and shook her head while Luthis scoffed. But then her expression changed. She looked at Friseal, then her eyes moved behind the chameleon, then she looked around obviously searching for something.

"What is it?" Ailios asked her.

"Where's Ray?"

"The bloody Cyon?" Luthis was disgusted. "I could care less about that metal thing."

Olivia turned to Luthis. "That metal thing is what kept us alive–"

"Yeah, right," Luthis scoffed. "Who knows what he said to those soldiers."

Ailios faced the mover. "Ray translated everything the Cyon asked me," he said. "At least, I think he did. He even told me what to say." And then Ailios smiled. "Did you guys hear me talk Cyon?"

"I think he made you curse in Cyon, is what he did," said Luthis.

"He's alive," Olivia said. "I can sense him."

Ailios put her down and held her arm over his shoulder, turning himself with her limping steps as she looked around.

"I say we leave him here," said Luthis. "It's because of these bloody Cyons that we're in this mess. Oh, that, and Ailios's poor judgment."

Olivia ignored the mover's remarks. She was still looking around, focused and tense. "That way," she pointed north.

They all went past the crater where Ailios and Friseal were thrown, and they stopped beside the chunk of concrete that Ailios recognized. He was leaning there when he came to himself. Or at least he thought it was.

"He's underneath," Olivia said.

Friseal tried to move the chunk but it was obvious there was no way he could do that, not in a million years, and not if Olivia and Ailios joined strength with him.

"Get him out, Luthis," said Ailios.

"No bloody way I'm doing that."

Gods, how much I miss Faragar to slap some sense into him. "What, you're going to leave the three of us struggle with a piece of concrete?"

Luthis scoffed and raised his hand. "Stand back," he said. The chunk moved up and then it was hurled sideways. Ray was down, lying on his back. His legs and arms were splayed out like he had fallen from some serious height. His suit had the most damage than all of the team combined. It looked as if it was torn apart by a wild cat with burning teeth. One long gash opened him from neck to his right leg, revealing body of metal underneath. The other cuts were slits from side to side.

Friseal rushed to help him up. "He's not breathing," he said.

"Of course he's not breathing," Ailios said, adjusting Olivia's arm over his shoulder. "Cyons don't breathe."

"Actually they do," said Friseal, "but not as much as we do."

Luthis crossed his arms. "Like anyone cares if they breathe or not," he said.

Olivia limped few steps forward still holding on Ailios. "I can wake him up," she said. "Just let me take a seat. The pain in my leg makes it hard for me to concentrate." Ailios helped her sit on a head-sized piece of metal. A moment of silence followed where she probably tried to penetrate Ray's mind with her thoughts. Then Ray's body flinched and Luthis jumped back. Ray's green eyes lit on.

"What happened?" he said.

"You're dead," said Ailios. He spread his arms to accentuate the fire burning behind. "Welcome to Ifrin."

Ray looked around as if he believed that. "The doctor," he muttered. And easily as that he was on his feet, flicking dust off his chest and arms.

"Hey wait a minute," said Ailios. "Didn't you just have a piece of concrete the size of a brute on you?"

"I did," said the spy and then he looked up. His green eyes narrowed as they focused on something. "I'm afraid we don't have much time."

"We just came back from the dead," said Ailios. "I think there is some time to enjoy it."

Friseal and Luthis were looking up as well. "Mmm, I don't think we do," said Friseal. "Not this time."

A thunderous roar ripped the sky, loud and unsettling. Ailios flinched despite his best efforts not to. But it was too damn loud, almost as if the atmosphere itself detonated. Even Faragar would have flinched.

Hundreds upon hundreds of burning fireballs cut through the clouds, leaving trails of fire and smoke in their wake. One of the fireballs collided with a ship that was trying to get away from the battleship. Its engines shattered into tiny fragments of metal and fire. What remained of the hull went in an uncontrollable roll toward the ground, drawing a spiral of smoke behind.

"The Cyons have really angered their gods this time," said Ailios.

"I don't think it's the gods," said Friseal. His hand pointed where the ship exploded not a moment ago. "There, next to the battleship. Do you recognize those?"

Ailios rubbed his visor and strained his eyes. In between fireballs and next to the battleship he noticed white metal tubes speeding toward the surface. Dread crept over his body. "No bloody way," he muttered. "It's the tubes we saw on Timor."

"And I bet they are carrying fully-grown abominations inside," said Friseal.

Luthis started scratching his wrist and moved a step back. "We have to leave," he said. "Olivia, is our ship still functional?"

She took her time before responding. "Yes. The archeologist says not a single bomb dropped in the garbage disposal complex. I think we are good to go."

"Excellent," said Luthis and turned to go toward the ship. He then stopped and looked around. "Which way was it?"

Ray pointed east behind a burning shack. "Your ship is that way." Luthis started to go before Ray could say anything else. "We have few minutes head start," said Ray, his eyes looking up. "If we are leaving, we better do it now."

Leaving? Their mission wasn't over yet. What was the point of coming here, getting killed almost, just to leave now? Ailios saw the abominations and what they were capable of. And the Cyon fleet is already underway. Whether he liked it or not the future of Talam rested in his hands.

"What will it be?" asked Ray.

Olivia looked at Ailios with uncertainty in her eyes. "You're the team leader," she said. The chameleon nodded, words completely unneeded.

"We came here for a doctor," said Ailios. "We won't leave without one."

Olivia smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Luthis was already a dozen paces away when he stopped walking, turned, and strode back toward the team. "Please, tell me you're not serious," he said.

"Luthis, I don't have time for this," said Ailios and turned to Ray. "Which way?"

The mover came even closer. His upper body leaned toward Ailios, their visors almost touching. "Are you bloody nuts? Look at the destruction here. The doctor may be torn to pieces for all we know, and when these abominations arrive we'll be dead for certain. Losing a hand was enough for me, I don't plan to lose my head this time."

Ailios felt a sudden urge to punch the mover. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and then he opened them with regained control. "Really, Luthis, now it's not the time–"

"Now is the time, dammit! You'll be getting us all killed–"

Ailios's fist smacked the mover's visor glass before even Ailios realized what he did. The mover fell down like scythed.

"You think I'm eager to die, is that it? You think I'm eager to get you all killed? Dammit, Luthis, the only reason I accepted this mission is because I don't want to die! I don't want any of you to die! I thought we would find a dead end on Timor – maybe some nice relics I could sell – and then we would stroll around the system to stay alive for as long as we can. I mean c'mon, did you honestly think that a group of criminals would actually find the sect?" Ailios couldn't keep a dose of sarcasm out of his smile. "But guess what – we did find it. Now we have a clue that will take us closer to our goal. And if you haven't already noticed, things are getting serious, and we are running out of time."

Luthis staggered for a few steps to straighten up. "I'm not a coward," he muttered.

Ailios exhaled. "Look, I know you're not, and I know you don't want to be here, but neither do I. Yet life has a rather annoying habit of putting me in places I never want to be. And while I'm here I'll do my damn best to complete my mission and help my people. I need you on this, Luthis, I need your ability. But I don't have time to argue with you anymore, so if you are keen on leaving us, I won't stop you. You'll just have to find another ship, because I plan to get back home once I find the sect."

Luthis licked some blood from his lips. Friseal and Olivia nervously watched the argument while constantly glancing up. Then Ray took a step closer to Ailios. "I'm afraid our time has run out," he said. "We can't make it to the doctor before the transports land. Not with Olivia slowing us down." Ray turned to her. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I know," she said.

Damn you, Luthis. "Friseal, take Olivia and get back to the ship. Make sure you pick us up once we have the doctor. Ray, you and I are going to find that bloody doctor and leave this damned place."

Ray nodded.

Luthis grabbed Ailios's arm. "What about me?"

"I don't care about you, Luthis. From now on you are free from my leadership. Do whatever you like, go wherever you want, I honestly don't care anymore."

"But I saved your life so many times..."

"You did, Luthis, and I am eternally grateful. But your attitude is becoming a burden to the team. I can't let you weigh us down anymore."

"Weigh you down..." the words were like a whisper, weak and resigned. Luthis let go of the arm.

Ailios turned to Olivia. For a brief moment their eyes met. He noticed the worry that was lodged in there.

Be careful – was all she said to him. Ailios wanted to say something back, but time was running out, he would have all the time in the world to say everything he wanted once they were safely back in space.

He nodded and both groups departed on separate ways. Only Luthis remained standing, glancing both ways until Ailios turned behind a corner and couldn't see him no more.

Ray and Ailios started running through maze of destruction lit by the fire burning around. The moans and screams were getting louder as they went deeper in what was left of the slums. Almost every Cyon they encountered had no limbs, or no bodies, or they were smashed under piles of concrete and metal, screaming for help or crawling with wires dragged behind. If Ailios could imagine Ifrin, this would definitely be it – fire burning on the ground, fire raining from above, heat rising inside his suit, his mouth getting dry and parched and water was nowhere to be found. He cursed himself for trying to play a hero.

Suddenly there was an intense light flashing from above, the sound of an object swishing closer by muffled everything else. "Down there!" Ray shouted, pointing to a hatch beside the street. "Jump, now!"

Ailios obeyed without giving second thoughts. He jumped and caught himself on his feet. It wasn't too high, maybe two meters from the hatch to the ground, and he moved aside to give Ray some landing space. As soon as the spy touched down, a massive explosion erupted somewhere above, causing the ground shake.

"How did you know how close it was?" Ailios asked him.

Ray smiled, synthetic muscles stretching his lips. "Being a Cyon has its perks."

I can imagine, Ailios thought but didn't say it.

It turned out they jumped in another underground passage that by some miracle remained intact (unless fallen paintwork and tons of dirt counted as damage). This time, however, the passageway was piled up with refuge-seeking Cyons, although that seemed like a fool's errand to Ailios. There were no soldiers to protect them, and even the fighting kind that ravaged the upper capital weren't here to provide assistance to their friends.

Someone screamed then. Ailios turned just in time to see a Cyon getting his leg cut off.

"What–!" Ailios tried to hold his surprise.

"Wannabe doctor," Ray explained. "Keep going."

Ailios didn't move. He watched the Cyon trying to stop the blood loss, or whatever that bluish thing was. "Will he be able to do the job we need?" Ailios asked.

"This is only a field medicine. He can prolong someone's life until a real doctor arrives." They started walking again.

"But there are no real doctors left," said Ailios, "except the one we're looking for, right?"

"Exactly."

The passageway trembled by impacts on the surface, every subsequent detonation few seconds away from the previous. The walls shook off more paintwork, the ceiling rained its loose dirt. Lights from burning barrels flickered. One Cyon was sitting on the floor, his hands clasping his knees. He was rocking back and forth, whispering something that seemed like a prayer. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if Ailios did the same, though he decided that the Imperial deities had higher authority on Palatine, and now wasn't the time to make more enemies.

At the end of the passageway they found an open hatch with a ladder leading to the surface. Ray moved one hand behind his back and took something out. "Here," he said, passing a beam pistol to Ailios.

Ailios examined it for a moment. He never thought he would hold a Cyon weapon in his hands before. He didn't even know how to shoot with it.

"You aim and then you press the blue button," said Ray, reading his thoughts. "It's set to kill."

Ailios moved his finger away from the blue button, not to press it accidentally.

Ray grabbed the ladder. "Stay close to me," he said, "my eyes can accurately predict fireballs' trajectory and time of impact." And he went up, Ailios following him close behind.

Out in the open there were more screams to be heard. Ailios was certain he heard projectile weapons being fired as well. The ground assault had begun, no doubt.

His both hands clutched the beam pistol, ready to shoot the first abomination he would see. But Ray was against shooting anyone just yet. He decided to go through ruined shacks, crouched almost to the ground, and avoid being detected. However, it didn't take long before they encountered their first group of enemies. There were five of them walking abreast, weapons steady in their hands. They scanned their surroundings as they moved. Ailios noticed how tall they've grown since the last time he saw them. And unlike the time when they were naked in tanks, now they wore black suits of metal, which added a terrifying look to the creatures they were underneath.

Maybe they look taller because of the suits, he tried to comfort himself, but it brought chills down his spine as he knew the suits had nothing to do with that. These abominations were bred to be intimidating, to be soldiers.

Get down – Ray's voice echoed in Ailios's head as he dropped to the ground and gestured for Ailios to do the same. I can't sense the doctor, but if he's alive he should be right around the corner – he added.

That was good news. It meant they would be off this damn planet soon. But now a problem arose – How do we get past these guys?

We wait – was Ray's answer.

It wasn't reassuring, but it was all they had.

Ailios raised his head enough to see one of the abominations execute a Cyon that had his legs trapped under the debris. The Cyon's read eyes slowly extinguished. Ailios moved his weapon in front of him and aimed at the abomination.

Don't do anything stupid – Ray said in Ailios's head – They outnumber us two to one.

After a few minutes, the abominations disappeared in the ruins, though Ray decided they should stay hidden twice as that, to make sure they were gone. He then got up to one knee, scanned the area, and then took his crouched posture again as they went on.

Fireballs swooshed above their heads, flames crackled next to their feet. But something was missing. There were no screams, no shouts. Around the corner they found out why. Every Cyon they saw was dead. There was no one left to make the noise.

Ailios squeezed the pistol and wiped his smoke-blackened visor with his free hand. He knew that the same carnage awaited his people unless he could stop them somehow.

"Now I understand what you meant earlier," said the spy as he led Ailios through remains of a shack. "These abominations are a pressing concern indeed."

On the other side there was supposed to be a street, judging by the ruined buildings from both sides. But now it was turned into a field of mud, fire, and ruins.

Ray stopped there. His eyes moved from side to side, obviously searching for something.

"It's gone," he said. "The doctor. His building was here, in front of us."

"Maybe he's still alive," said Ailios, for the first time insecure about his decision. "We should look for him." And he started through the rubble.

"Wait," said Ray. Ailios turned. "I told you I can't sense him. He may be dead and if he's not we have no idea where to look. We should head back to your ship."

"I'm not leaving without a doctor."

"There is no doct–"

A thud made Ray's body recoil and fall down. Ailios's instincts made him duck and aim his pistol at the general direction where he thought he saw movement, though nothing moved now. He looked over his shoulder. Ray's arm was nearly out of its socket. He managed to drag himself behind cover of ruined concrete wall. There he sat up, back leaning against the concrete and took out his pistol.

"Five of them," he said. "I can sense them, but... there is something different–"

Barrage of bullets slammed the wall, turning chunks of concrete over his head into rain of dust. Ray ducked down.

Ailios peered through a hole on the wall when he heard pebbles crunching under someone's feet. One of the abominations was walking toward them. Ailios put his beam pistol in the hole and fired few shots. He peered again to see if his attempt of killing the abomination had any success. However, the metal-clad creature walked with greater determination toward them.

"Any ideas?" Ailios called out to Ray.

Ray moved his body to the side and fired few shots before retreating back behind cover. "A few bombs might work," he said. He clasped his fingers around the pistol and waited.

"You don't have any bombs, do you?" asked Ailios. He cursed when Ray shook his head.

"We need to head back," said Ray.

It angered Ailios that the spy was right, and that his plan of finding a doctor failed so horribly. And then a loud whoosh above their heads made Ailios look up. A dozen white tubes were descending down, landing thrusters burning to their limits to slow them down. They landed with waves of dust behind Ailios and Ray.

Ailios called, "I guess, heading back is off the table now."

"We have to move," said Ray and stood up, emptying his pistol at the abominations. He retreated closer to Ailios and then they both started running through ruined buildings while bullets chased them from behind.

Half a minute of running and avoiding bullets, Ailios had to loosen his helmet, to let the heat out. Few steps later his feet started acting weird. They just wouldn't listen. His back hurt, his hand hurt more than he would like to admit, but he had to do this. Keep going. Just a little longer.

His visor fogged with every breath, and breading turned deeper and slower while his heart seemed to pump harder and faster. The heat inside his suit became unbearable. So was the sweat that started to water his eyes and sting the injury on his forehead. And then he collapsed. He couldn't breathe anymore, or think clearly. In that moment he didn't care about the pain he endured. He aimed his pistol and fired wherever he could. He knew he probably missed in that awkward state of delirium he was in, but it was all he could do.

He looked for targets through the misty glass and the fuzziness of his own vision when suddenly lights started raining from above. Explosions and screams filled his ears, and an engine roar that was getting closer from above.

Just great, he thought, another bombing run.

Ailios felt himself levitate over the ground. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him; He decided to let his hands grope for proof of his sanity, but touched nothing. He was indeed levitating.

It didn't take long for everything to turn silvery-gray and firm ground to touch his back and legs.

"They're in!" he heard a voice shout. "Go! Go!"

"Luthis?" Ailios murmured.

A black shape appeared above him. "Don't tell me you were expecting someone else."

Ailios couldn't help himself in all that exhaustion but to remove his helmet and sprawl over the cold metal where he already was. He took a deep, cool breath and closed his eyes.

We made it.

"Where is the doctor?" Luthis asked loudly amidst the engine roar.

Ray said, "He wasn't there."

"Well, at least we're alive and we're getting away from this place," said Luthis again.

Ailios opened his eyes only to see Ray open the hatch toward the locker room and start climbing the ladder toward the bridge with Luthis close behind. Ailios felt his lips stretch into a smile. We bloody made–

A sudden explosion sent Ailios flying. He smacked his head on the metal bulkhead hard enough to see stars and swallow blood. His back started hurting almost to a whole different level. And then the shaking started. Ray fell down from the ladder and through the hatch, crushing Ailios's legs. Ailios gave out a painful scream that somehow got muffled by another explosion. Both of them turned and rolled and spun around. Thick smoke filled his nostrils, making him cough. Silver lockers and blue Bio-suits flew everywhere...

We're going down, was all he managed to think before the ship slammed into the ground, sending him in a painful bounce all over the airlock chamber. It hurt so bad that he didn't even realize they stopped and he was still alive.

And then there was only silence.

"Ow," he said. A suit fell down from an open locker above his head and covered his face. No other sound came from the rest of the ship, not a stir. He pushed the suit and coughed some blood. His lungs burned from the smoke, he was choking from it and coughing until he almost retched. The coughs seemed to have cleared his respiratory system as he was able to mumble, "Anyone alive?" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

No one replied.

Ailios tried to stand up, though he couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down. His head spun so badly that he just dropped back down and didn't move anymore.

A hatch far to his left opened. Olivia's bloodied head showed, her blonde hair smeared and oily. She's still so damn pretty.

He knew he was smiling at her, though he didn't feel any of his muscles, not even the facial ones.

"You okay?" she called.

Ailios lifted his hand and made a thumb up.

"We don't have much time. The engine might explode any second now. Take anything we'll need to survive – food, water, medicine..."

Ailios struggled to stand up. This time he forced himself to do so. His hand grabbed the ladder that now didn't extend up, but toward the hatch to his left, and he steadied himself. Oddly, he succeeded to stand on his feet.

Funny how a woman can motivate you.

He looked to his right. Ray was there, covered in pile of suits. "Ray," Ailios called. He didn't get a response, so he kneeled and moved one suit away. "Ray, wake up." Ailios shook him. "Hey, get up–"

A thud made him turn to the airlock hatch right next to him. He was certain the sound came from there.

Thud!

It was almost as if something heavy was pounding on the hatch.

Ailios stood up. He kicked the spy. "Get up!"

Thud!

The hatch dented. Underneath, the spy lay sprawled. "Ray!"

Thud!

The dent went deeper into the ship.

"Come on, man, get up." He shook him. After he got no response, he cupped his mouth and called behind. "He's dead!"

He's not dead – Olivia said in his head – No one's dead. They are all unconscious.

Ailios kicked him again and Ray's green eyes lit up in an instant. He sprang to his feet, looking around, confused.

"It's Ifrin again," said Ailios, though not as a joke this time. He honestly meant it.

Thud!

The round metal hatch bent in, its hinges barely hanging. It was big enough opening for the air to start to escape. Ailios quickly kneeled and took a helmet he found in the chaos under his feet.

Thud!

Raibeart looked at the hatch. One hinge held it from caving in.

Thud!

The circle of metal flew at him, slamming the spy at the bulkhead behind.

Before Ailios could turn back at the opening, to see what was happening, something long and black grabbed him by his suit. It pulled him out with such force that sent him flying in the open. His body smacked the ground and his visor cracked. "Ow!"

He planted his hands down, pushed up through pain and grunts to look what happened. The Imperial palace was in front of him, destroyed, crumbled... Few Cyon ships had landed in front of the ruined pyramid in what used to be the forum. Cyons were rushing out of the ships, firing their weapons at someone.

Ailios looked back. His ship was there, the little dolphin turned on its left side, smoke pluming from its burning tail. But what caught his attention was a gigantic black shape, lumbering toward him.

With his injured hand, Ailios tried to clean the visor to see better, but then the shape grabbed him by his arm. Ailios was amazed by how easily the thing, whatever it was, pulled him up and before he could be amazed by anything else he found himself flying again. This time he heard a bone crack; more importantly – he felt it. He grunted and rolled on his back. He grabbed his hand, certain it was broken at the wrist.

The shape was getting closer, growling. It was someone tall, two meters at least. He had one red glowing eye and a long metal-looking arm on the same side. The way it walked made the ground tremble. The shape was closer when Ailios noticed the face of that thing. It was familiar. And it was close enough again. It kneeled for another grab and throw, but this time Ailios rolled away, and the thing missed him. His metal fingers scratched the marble. It growled in frustration. Even the growl was familiar. The giant turned and lumbered closer. Ailios stood up, staggered backward for a few steps and stumbled and fell again, the back of his helmet smacked the ground. He turned on his stomach and started crawling away. But he knew the thing was getting closer, he could almost feel its breath through the suit. And the thing grabbed his back and lifted him up again. Ailios clenched his eyes shut, waiting for another throw, but... it didn't happen.

Ailios opened an eye, the thing stared at him: one red Cyon eye and one black human eye. It growled again, revealing a shiny tooth and another made out of metal.

"Faragar?" Ailios mumbled.

Faragar flung his arm and Ailios went flying. The realization that the thing was Faragar hurt more than the fall itself. Though, that too hurt like he was submerged in a river of fire, and the gods of the underworld clouted him with spiked clubs.

Ailios rolled on his back, put his hands up. "Faragar, it's me – Ailios."

Faragar growled and lumbered toward him like the beast he was. Ailios tried to stand up in a body of pure pain. Once up, he knew he was stooped, he knew he looked like piece of injured pray, but he knew he could reason with Faragar.

"It's me, your team leader," he said. "Don't you recognize me?"

There was not a hint of recognition on the other side.

"Look behind you," Ailios tried again. "The pilot of that ship is Olivia. You surely remember her. The gods envy her beauty."

Faragar was almost there for another grab, but Ailios stood his ground.

"And Luthis," he called. "You remember the guy, the mover who sings so bad–"

Another grab. Another lift closer to Faragar's face. Another growl. Another show of his vicious teeth.

"I know you can hear me, Faragar. Let me go."

His red eye was fixed on Ailios's visor. His teeth half hid behind his lips. "Faragar," he said in a deep voice.

"Yes, Faragar. That's you. And I'm your friend and team leader, Ailios."

"Ailios," he echoed. "Faragar remembers."

Ailios exhaled. "Oh, thank the gods–"

Faragar growled again. He turned back. Ailios looked over the giant's shoulder. Ray was behind the brute with a pistol in his hands, smoke pluming out of the nozzle.

"Ray, don't shoot!" Ailios shouted.

Faragar let go of Ailios. He slumped down like a bag of meat.

The brute was walking away from him and moving toward the spy. Ailios heard the pistol discharge and Faragar's shoulder recoiled sharply, smoke lifted up from the spot. Ailios rolled on his knees and struggled to get himself to his feet. There were two more shots that he was certain got Faragar.

"Don't shoot, dammit!" Ailios called. "Get away from him!"

Faragar was close enough for the kill. And then lights flashed from his side. Red streaks extended toward Faragar and shook his body.

"No!" Ailios screamed when a group of human-looking Cyons without helmets in this deadly atmosphere started shooting at the brute. "Don't shoot!" Ailios shouted. "Stop! Ray, tell them to stop!"

Faragar turned to his attackers and growled. He then jumped. Ailios never saw the brute jump before, but this was something otherworldly. It was impossible for a human, no matter which tribe he came from, to make such a jump. Faragar covered forty meters in an instant and splattered one of his attackers where he landed. He flung his metal arm sideways and threw one of the attackers. The rest kept firing. Beam lights and metal slugs riddled Faragar's body.

"Don't shoot, damn you!" Ailios cried. He forced his legs to push him toward his friend, but his feet only dragged over the marble.

The brute was down on his knees. Every bolt slammed on his stomach, on his chest and shoulders. It made his muscles go into spasm. Ailios wanted to run to his assistance, to jump at the Cyons, but his legs didn't obey. He stopped, stood there frozen, watching his friend getting killed.

And then the shooting stopped. Every Cyon moved closer to the brute, weapons aimed at his dying body.

The brute was still on his knees, bloodied, badly wounded. His head was bent down, his arms hung limply to the ground. His chest expanded and contracted in deep, slow manner. Smoke plumed from his shoulders and chest like he was just grilled. It was sad to see the big guy like that.

"I'm sorry, Faragar," Ailios whispered.

As if the brute heard him he raised his head and gave a weak smile. He then growled and sprang to his feet with his last amounts of strength.

Flashes of light forced him back down. The Cyons kept shooting at him as they moved closer until Faragar didn't move anymore. Only then they stopped. But they were still afraid to get in his reach.

Ailios's entrails turned. He wanted to throw up. He couldn't tell which hurt him more – his own body or the death of his friend. But whatever it was it made his legs turn to jelly. He collapsed on his knees – another jolt of pain that made him wince. His head rolled back, eyes fixed at the night sky, ruthless and heavy.

Gods, he almost heard himself say. It was as good a moment as any for a prayer, for a few words of remission. And who knows, maybe some divine force would get him out of this mess and bring Faragar back.

His mouth cracked a smile. He almost believed that. Too many sins were engraved in his past, too many sacrileges. There was no such prayer powerful enough to get him forgiveness for all he'd done. So many artifacts stolen, so many temples breached. He was doomed to suffer for all eternity.

His eyelids, heavier than ever, covered the world black and he collapsed on his back. He was finally ready to accept his death...

The blackness went deeper, made his body float and numbed his pain. It was nice, anything that drove away his pain was better than nothing. He heard voices then, drifting through the darkness. They were human voices, it was true, but they spoke in Cyon.

Gods, if you turn out to be Cyon I'll drown myself in your bloody rivers.

He then felt his head rock back and forth. More Cyon words were uttered. Ailios opened his bleary eyes, blackness gave way for fuzziness and cracked glass. And then his vision cleared enough to distinguish one human-looking Cyon behind the crack.

What do you want from me, skin job? Ailios almost said. He let out a breath. "Let me die in peace," he said.

The Cyon put his rifle on his back and extended his hand toward Ailios.

Ailios blinked, hoping it would clear his vision. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't, but the Cyon still held his hand. Ailios dropped his head down. He then felt the Cyon kneel beside him and lift Ailios up on his shoulders.

Ailios's vision was turned upside down, but he could still see things. Ray was there, close to him, talking to one of the Cyons. He was pointing at the crashed dolphin behind. The rest of the Cyons rushed inside the ship. It didn't take long for them to come out, carrying Friseal and Luthis on their backs, the archeologist after that, and then the bag with the near-dead Cyon they found on Timor. One of the Cyons held Olivia's arm over his shoulder while she limped forward, cradling a jar with one of her plants inside. Ailios turned the other way toward one of the ships they were all carried to. Heavily-armed Cyons were standing on a ramp which led to the ship's interior. These soldiers were beckoning the other human-looking Cyons over with one hand while holding a rifle in the other and occasionally emptying its ammo in various directions from where groups of abominations would appear.

Ailios gazed at the ship. It would be better if they left him to die a man here than take him inside that beast of metal and be tortured like an animal.

With a hint of amusement, Ray's voice crept into Ailios's head – Don't worry, they don't plan to torture anyone yet.

Good. Ailios let his head collapse. He was too damn exhausted to say a word to the spy. He was too exhausted to think even. Before he knew it, his neck went limp. His eyes looked at the Cyon's legs that carried him until it was nothing but blackness covering his eyes.

It was sleep he needed.

It was sleep he took.

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Table of Contents

FLESH AND STEEL

SYSTEM MAP

VALERIA

AILIOS

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS

VALERIA

LUCIUS

AILIOS

LUCIUS

AILIOS

