CLAIRE

“Come on, Claire. You can do this,” Claire said. The words calmed her mind and shaking hands. The acute nausea, which grew by just looking at a combat suit, dissipated, but it never vanished completely. It would always be there, every time she was close to one.

She repeated the breathing exercise Diego had taught her. Over and over again, making the trauma of the past to be shoved to the side and out of focus.

“I can do this,” Claire repeated. “I will not let the past get the better of me.”

She grabbed the armor plating which the printer had spitted out a moment earlier. Its shape and material were perfect for its intended use. She stood up from the floor.

“Ahh,” Claire muttered.

For a moment her knees had locked and wouldn’t move.

“Am I growing old?” Claire said by her lonesome in her workshop.

Diego would have laughed at her comment, a stroke of luck that he was not here to witness her moving about like an old woman.

The shaped armor plating was made from a blend of alien metals, the very metals that the omf used on their household hulls. It was extremely light in her hands, but still more durable than their ordinary armor plating to the combat suits. Argus provided valuable data on the omf’s technology. With a power tool at hand she bolted the plating to the rig’s skeleton frame. Actually, its third skeleton frame. Samuel’s rig was growing in size, but not at all at the pace it would have with ordinary armor plating. The man wanted more armor, more motor muscles and thus to be able to contend even better against powered people, now that they were going to attack an entire fleet of them. Every new layer of ‘rig’ was completely decked out with the functions from the previous layer. The evolution of the project was cool, seeing how the new layer inherited additional strength and mechanics from the inner one. Every layer was outfitted with the eject, hug and detonate function, one which Samuels was very fond of. Her best work yet.

“Argus, if I wanted to remove everything from one of those void torpedoes and only keep the parts which make it go boom, would that be dangerous?” Claire said into the mental channel. The concept of a shared mental communication channel was such a weird concept, but she had gotten used to it faster than she had expected. It worked mostly as a push-to-talk channel, which she could with the correct thought elect not to listen to. Which was wonderful, especially when Argus went on a rant. Tern never went on rants, he was witty and kind instead. If she could exchange Argus for Tern, she would do in a heartbeat.

“Why would you not want a propulsion device on a torpedo which rips a hole through the space-time-continuum? It creates a micro wormhole. No one wants to be close to it,” Argus said.

Claire sighed, a classical Argus argument. “Why can you not just answer my question? Yes, I want to remove the thruster of the torpedo. It takes up too much space. I just need the payload.”

“You don’t have to be stingy about it,” Argus said. “AHH!”

“Answer her, stupid,” Beth said.

Beth must have whacked the omf across its shell again. Why Argus never learned was weird. Maybe the omf had sustained more damage from Beth’s mutilation of him than they had expected?

“Okay, Okay! Just don’t slap me again,” Argus said. “Claire, start by screwing off the side panel and pull out what’s inside it. Disconnect the wiring. That is the detonator, so be careful. Don’t yank it out. Be gentle. When that is removed, you can easily disassemble or even separate the container with the antimatter from the thruster without risking the torpedo to detonate in your face. Because I guess you want to keep your face in one piece? Why do so many beings have faces? It’s such a strange concept.”

“Thank you,” Claire said and jumped away from the mental channel, she was not interested in Argus’ rant.

With her specialized tools at hand, disassembling the detonator went smoothly, the container with the antimatter came next. The remaining parts were all connected to the thruster and which she shoved aside on the workbench. The detonator and antimatter container had two connections, she would have to build a new housing, to properly store them inside the rig. Samuels would be glad with all this violence in such a small package, maybe the former Captain wanted to shove it down Saif’s throat? She had not thought about it before, but it was weird how Samuels was so focused on shoving explosive things down other people’s throats. Maybe he had a rough childhood? But it was a question she wouldn’t dare to ask him.

With all these upgrades to the ship and Samuels’ rig, she should think about adding something to her own rig?

Samuels wanted more power, more bulk and more violence, but that was not suiting her rig.

Was there something from their haul of alien tech which would make her go faster?

Claire instructed the printer on the shape and material of the housing she wanted, all the raw materials were present and the electrical input to the device was sufficient. She decided on the dimension and the printer began its work.

“Hi, did it go well, Claire?” Beth said, stepping inside the workshop, the distinct cable ran over her shoulder and onto her back, where Argus was hanging in the harness.

Claire scrambled the parts of the thruster together with her hands and into a box. “Of course it went fine, otherwise I would have started a wormhole right in the middle of the ship, none of us would have lived long enough to perceive what killed us. I was thinking of giving the thruster to Birgitta and her project.”

“Good work, I produce the schematics and technology from this one,” Beth turned around and showed Argus, who was dutifully silent. The omf was not looking to get smacked again. “And you work on our hardware.”

Omf.

Flight/hovering module.

To rig.

Claire’s eyes went back and forth between Argus and her rig, maybe it was possible? She just needed to figure out a control system and embed the whole shebang into the rig, and then it would work. It would work.

“I need Argus’ hovering and flight module,” Claire said, without pause, since being straight to the point was more effective. People usually liked stuff to be effective. Some subconscious thing, at least that was what Diego had told her. Diego said many smart things.

“No,” Argus said. “Ahh!”

Beth smacked a second time, maybe she just wanted to send a properly distinct message. “Be quiet, Argus.”

“So, I can have it?” Claire asked, licking her lips. Why did her mouth salivate when one of her ideas was ripening? It was not the first time. She decided to ask Diego later.

Beth turned the omf in her hands and searched for the module. When found, she stuck her fingers into the very seams of it and pried it out. The module was a bit longer than half a meter and surprisingly heavy as Claire grabbed onto it before it fell to the floor.

“Nice!” Claire said.

“You know where I put the circuit boards which I pulled out from his modules?” Beth said.

“Of course, I do! I could never forget about such prized hardware. They are in my nicest plastic container, under my nicest workbench,” Claire said.

Argus’ spherical body constricted and the open slot, which had contained the module, sealed shut. Argus’ body actually diminished in size, it was an awesome concept.

“You robbed me, not once, but twice of my flight. Not fair,” Argus said.

Claire put the module on her nice workbench and raised her hand over Argus. “Beth, can I try? I watched you do it several times, and even though I don’t have the same magical weight behind my slaps, I think my technique is impeccable.”

“No,” Argus muttered.

“Yes,” Beth said.

Claire lowered her hand. “I changed my mind. I will hand this thruster to Birgitta instead.” She pulled out her hand terminal, Birgitta answered and her face popped into existence on the screen. “Birgitta, I have one spare thruster. Disassembled from a void torpedo. Do you want it?”

“We would indeed!” Birgitta said, she heard Yuri in the background. “Should I send Yuri?”

“No, I need the break. I am coming over with it. See you soon, Birgitta,” Claire said and ended the call. “Beth, see you later, and Argus, you too.”

BIRGITTA

“Yuri, I thought every Russian had perfect knowledge of blowing things up with nuclear warheads. It just felt logical,” Birgitta said.

“That is racist,” Yuri said.

“Oh. You are right. Sorry. But where did you get your training in handling nukes?” Birgitta said. “You were able to disarm that nuke Samuels wanted to blow up Europe13 with. I still cannot stop thinking about that.”

Yuri smiled at her. “If you didn’t have such a lovely voice, I would have complained about how much you talked.”

“But still, you didn’t answer my question,” Birgitta. “I almost get the feeling you are avoiding it.”

Yuri’s face grew taunt and stern.

Claire stepped in. “I am here. And with the parts.” She put the container on a workbench. “Since I removed the antimatter container, you might need to solve the energy another way. I couldn’t let you have those, I needed the go-boom stuff.”

Straight to the point, without a moment’s delay. Was it a Navy thing? Sameuls had similar tendencies, but his personality was also tuned to the extreme.

“Thank you, Claire,” Birgitta said. “You must have almost ran the whole way here, since it didn’t pass many seconds after our call concluded.”

Claire nodded. “True.”

“You are excited about something. Otherwise, not even you would be this brazen,” Birgitta said. “You even forgot about saying hello to Yuri. I know he is a new member of the crew, but the least you could do would be to look him in the eyes and acknowledge his existence. Some team building.”

Claire turned to Yuri and stared into his eyes, with wide open eyes and nodded her head wildly. “HELLO, YURI.” She turned back. “Great, I am done. I need to get going. Beth gave me Argus’ flight module. I am going to incorporate it into my rig. I am going to fly.”

Yes, there it was. Of course she would go ballistics about something like that.

“If you need help, me and Yuri will come running,” Birgitta said.

Claire nodded and left them.

“So, Yuri, back to my question. If you know nothing about nuclear warheads, why were you able to disassemble its detonator?” Birgitta asked. “Do I need Claire to go brazen on you?” She smiled at him, trying to land the joke, but Yuri’s face was locked in a serious manner.

“You know, I tried standing up against the Putin clones’ rule. That was where I got this scar. But it was not the first time for me going up against them. Far from it,” Yuri said. “I was involved in some shady stuff back then. From the government’s view, we were called terrorists. We had a plan to hide a nuclear warhead onto one of their bigger ships. We had an inside man and that man needed to know the ropes on how to handle a warhead, unless it might blow inside the city and not inside the warship.”

Birgitta felt stunned, not knowing what to say. It was a bit too much. “You were planning on murdering all those people, just to get at Putin?”

“We were young and naive. Thinking that it somehow would put fear into those dictators’ minds,” Yuri said.

“Don’t leave me hanging, what happened? I never heard that any Putin warship was blown up. But Russians have a way of keeping such news close to the chest. So, maybe that’s the reason.”

“It helps having a dictator who doesn’t hesitate to have usurpers executed on the spot,” Yuri said.

It was at this moment, Birgitta made the connection. Yuri had lived and been raised in a completely different life, with vastly different opportunities. When the possibility of being executed on the spot just because your world view differed from the tyrant who controlled the government, then you adapted to that world order, or attempted to knock that bitch off the throne.

“It’s alright, Yuri. Sorry, I was too harsh. I didn’t mean to call you a terrorist,” Birgitta said.

Yuri shook his head. “No, Birg, It’s fine. I was the inside man and I learned everything that I needed to handle that nuke. At the last moment, when I walked through the ship, towards my destination, I greeted my work friends. I just…, I couldn’t do it. I disassembled the nuke, started with the detonator and ended with the radioactive material, and I dumped it all into the garbage chute.”

“You are human, Yuri. That is not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength,” Birgitta said. “But wait, how were you able to discard all the pieces of a nuke into the garbage? The container with the radioactive material, alone, should have raised the alarms.”

“Yeah, it was hairy. Once the onboard Commander was alerted about the pieces for an entire nuke in the garbage. The ship went into lockdown for weeks, everyone was locked inside their quarters or workrooms, until a full investigation had been conducted. They never linked me or my friends to the nuke. So, I got to live another day. And I learned the ins and outs of a nuke. That knowledge saved many lives when your Samuels wanted to blow up Europe13.”

“It did. Thank you for telling me.” Birgitta stepped forward and kissed him on the mouth.

Something vibrated in Yuri’s overal.

“Are so happy to see me?” Birgitta smiled.

“Well.” Yuri pulled out his hand terminal. “It’s Diego. He is ready to proceed.”

DIEGO

“And like that, it looks to have never existed in the first place.” Diego raised his gloved hands away from his patient and shoved the UV light out of the way. “Don’t touch it for a few hours, Yuri. The cream needs to be absorbed into your skin.”

Yuri sat up and was handed a mirror.

“The process is not yet finished. But once it has, it will look like normal skin,” Diego said. “Indistinguishable.”

“Thank you,” Yuri said, tears trickled down his cheeks. “Thank you so much. I can finally say that I got rid of him. For good.”

Diego threw the disposable gloves into the bin. “Of course. You are crew now. Regrowth cream and UV light can solve many problems in the world. But not psychopaths with mind controlling abilities.”

Yuri hugged him and Diego could do nothing else but to smile. “I need to show Birgitta!” And then the Russian was off.

Diego cleaned his work space and tools. Everything had their place and use.

-

“Leo, how did you come up with these?” Diego muttered.

He sat in the pilot’s seat and inspected Leo’s flight patterns. There were thousands of novel concepts, many of which he had never heard of and the designs were bold and varied. Leo’s mind must be constantly thinking about new ways of maneuvering the ship. It was weird that the old German pilot never was promoted to Admiral. These patterns would have been highly praised back home. The sheer imagination put into them was astounding. He knew Leo had a mind for creating stories from thin air, but these patterns. They were something different. A master craftsman’s finest work, his magnum opus.

There was running outside the bridge, coming this way.

Diego turned to look. Were they under attack?

“Diego!” Claire said, as she stormed into the bridge. Her face was covered in a mix of sweat and soot, but her expression was one of excitement. “I need flight patterns,” she struggled to say underneath her ragged breathing.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Flight patterns?” Diego stepped up to her and kissed her on the forehead, it tasted of salt and bitterness. “What is happening?”

“I did it. I embedded Argus’ flight module into my rig. It can hover, it can fly. I needed to fine tune the energy flow a bit, but other than that it was easy.”

Diego sighed. Claire was always full of energy when she had a new project to work on, and one such close to her heart, it brought out a certain fire in her eyes. It was amazing to observe.

“What types?” Diego said.

“We will have to tweak Leo’s designs, to encompass the rig’s narrow and ever more flexible pallet of maneuvers,” Claire said. “You have studied Leo’s work and I know the ins and outs of my rig. Together, we can make magic happen.”

“I will print us something to drink,” Diego said.

-

The hours passed, as they toiled over the pilot’s consoles, side by side, shoulder by shoulder. Sipping the synthetic wine, cracking jokes, telling old stories and trying their best to improve upon Leo’s designs. To improve was not the correct description, they adapted them to suit the rig. Because there was no way they could improve upon Leo’s work.

“I never understood the work Leo had put into these,” Claire said and burped. The wine was getting to them, Diego felt his knees shake from time to time.

“The same amount he poured into his stories,” Diego said. “And these are only a handful. There is a ton more in his quarters.”

Claire shook her head. “More?”

“Yes. So, I guess you will need these patterns because of the same reason we need them to steer the ship. Our human reactions are too slow,” Diego said.

Claire nodded.

“You tried flying already?” Diego asked.

Claire nodded.

“That is why your pretty face was covered in soot!” Diego said.

A smile widened on her face. “You didn’t feel the shake? I flew right into the hull at full speed. I thought I had broken my neck, but the rig held me together.”

They shared a laugh.

“More fake wine, my darling?” Diego asked.

Claire held out her glass. “I see chivalry never died in you, Rubalcava.”

“Never.” Diego smiled.

“I have missed these moments. These slices of life between all the other stuff,” Claire said. “Our situation has robbed us of many things. But this, you and me, I never thought it would put a strain on us. We never have time for these moments anymore.”

Diego felt the tug at his heart. The tears were not trickling out his eyes yet, but he felt how they moved into position. “Claire bear, just a bit longer. Our fight is almost over. And then we will be able to rest. A place in the countryside, with a few dogs running around in the grass.”

“And kids,” Claire said.

“Kids?” Diego said.

“We are not too old yet. And after all we have been through, we deserve it,” Claire said, her face relaxed because of the wine, but with that sparkle in her eyes. She was serious. “If we make it through, both of us. Let’s get pregnant. I want little Diegos and Claires running around that place in the countryside, side by side with the dogs.”

Diego smiled, wider than he had ever done. Planning for the future, for their future and happiness, they had not had the pleasure of doing that since all this started. He felt happy and he was looking forward again, not to the next fight or battle, but for peace and rest.

“Yes, let’s do it,” Diego said.

They kissed.

“After we have survived this,” Claire said and pulled the consoles into view again. “If I make the rig spin in this manner and somersault in that direction, should I not do like this?”

Diego looked at his partner, the sheer focus as she worked and her mind analysing all the steps of the maneuvers. Both of them had improved reasons on why they should survive all this, why the world needed them to succeed. God, he loved her so much.

RAHGON

Rahgon’s stomach growled, loud and clear its intentions were. At least Elzrig was not in the cargo bay, listening and complaining that she was hungry. Again. She rolled around and stretched, casting an eye towards the batch of eggs, to force herself to think about something else. Being big had its advantages, but also its disadvantages, especially when hitching a ride with small humans, with even smaller food printers. They tried feeding her properly, but it was never enough and it would never be enough. Her stomach would keep growling.

This state was not proper for a warrior queen. How would she fight on an empty stomach?

Elzrig had wandered off, what was her love doing now?

“Elzrig, where are you?” Rahgon asked through the mental channel.

ELZRIG

“Will soon be there. Try to relax, Rahgon,” Elzrig said.

“Not that easy,” Rahgon said.

Elzrig flapped his wings and took the junction’s turn with a smooth twist. Since the crew was so shorthanded, the risk of bumping into one was low, and thus he could fly fast and reckless.

“Claire, bring your tools and meet me in the mess hall,” Elzrig said.

“I am coming. A break would be wonderful,” Claire said.

These corridors offered a different kind of flying. Elzrig missed the vastness that the mountain provided and it’s clear skies. But the techniques he was able to train on this ship made him think about something else than just their loss. So many dragons had fallen during the invasion. So many. Hopefully the batch of eggs was enough to invigorate and save them. He and Rahgon would have to find a good planet, settle down and raise them. Like a proper family. He had not thought about being a father already, only fifty years old and with the dragon queen herself. Life came at you with surprising winds.

Elzirg twisted his body and opened his wings, coming to a full stop and landing softly on the mess hall’s floor.

“Elzirg, how can I serve?” Claire asked, entering the mess hall with her tool box at hand.

“Serve? You don’t serve me. We are friends,” Elzrig said.

“Yes, I know. It’s just a thing humans say,” Claire said.

“Humans are peculiar,” Elzrig said. “I want this.” He pointed at the food printer with his snout. “To print larger morsels for Rahgon. I cannot have her starving before a big battle.”

Claire nodded. “We never thought about that before. The synthesizers are not designed for that. But my tinkering skills are better than most.”

“Tinkering?” Elzrig asked.

“Improvising and inventing with machines and the likes. Fixing and patching things to do your bidding,” Claire said. “Did that make it clearer? I don’t think so, sorry. I will get to work instead.”

Claire went down on her knees, opening the food printer’s lid and she poked her head inside.

Elzrig balanced on the mess hall’s table, on one paw and only the tip of one of the claws. A nice little exercise to pass the time and work on his balance.

“What are you doing?” Birgitta asked, leaning inside the mess hall with Yuri standing behind her.

Elzirg was startled and almost fell off the table, but regained his balance, before landing smoothly to the floor. Obviously, trying to make the landing and the almost snout-planting into the floor looking intentionally. He could not have the humans think that they spooked him and made him fall because of it. “We are fixing the food printer. Rahgon is hungry. Mightily hungry.”

“I see,” Birgitta said. “I recognize that butt. Claire, how is it going in there?”

“Almost done. I will need some new parts to enlarge the synthesiser’s muzzle and then we should be ready. I have sent the instructions to the printer in my workshop. You brought Yuri? Great, we need the muscle. Yuri, would be kind and fetch me those parts?”

Birgitta stepped forward. “Wait, here. Why cannot Elzrig fetch them?”

“He is the project leader,” Claire said.

Elzrig nodded. “Yes, I am the project leader.” He didn’t understand what a project was or what it entailed. Or how a leader fit into it. But if Claire said it, it was probably true, Claire was clever and he avoided doing the heavy lifting.

“Right,” Birgitta said. “Yuri, run along, you heard Claire.”

“But…,” Yuri started.

Birgitta placed a finger on Yuri’s mouth. “No. No. Go and fetch.”

And Yuri was away.

“Elzrig, how is the ship-life treating you?” Birgitta asked. “We never saw any starships on your planet, so I guess you don’t have any. And it is not like you would need them.”

“I like these tight corridors, I am forced to train different flying skills,” Elzrig said. “But for Rahgon they are hellishly narrow. She cannot move freely, like I am able to and it is difficult for her. She takes a flyby in space from time to time, so she doesn’t go insane.”

Birgitta nodded and smiled her widest smile, showing her fangs, like dragons do. “You are coping. That’s great. I was a little worried.”

Yuri stepped back into the mess hall with his hands full of hardware. Elzrig couldn’t recognize any of them, for what specific purpose any of them had. Yuri spilled the parts on the floor besides Claire.

“Great,” Claire said. “Give me a few minutes and then we will be ready.”

Elzrig balanced on his paw and on only one of its claws.

“Are you using your wings to give you air, or are you actually balancing on the tip of that one claw?” Beth asked and stepped into the mess hall.

Was the mess hall the center of the ship or something? Everyone flocked to this specific room. Humans must love their snacking, just as dragons do.

“No cheating,” Elzrig said.

“Nice,” Beth said.

Claire crawled out from the food printer and came to her feet again. “Wild boar or maybe a few rabbits?”

“What?” Elzrig said. “Are those foods?”

“Animals from Earth. A boar is fatter and meatier and the rabbits slimmer. What does Rahgon prefer?” Claire asked.

“A boar, then,” Elzrig said. “You cannot print it alive, can you? That would satisfy Rahgon even more.”

“I see what you are doing.” Beth leaned in between Birgitta and Yuri. “Rahgon is hungry.”

“No, Elzrig, we cannot synthesize live creatures. If we had a cloning tank, yes, but we don’t. This is just a synthesizer,” Claire said.

“Your food printer is flawed,” Elzrig said.

“Synthesizer,” Claire said.

Elzrig blew a few droplets of liquid fire on the floor in frustration. “Okay. Is the meat ready?”

Claire stepped aside, revealing the food printer’s result.

The piece of meat was almost the size of Elzsrig himself. A lot larger than any other morsels they have been able to produce with the food printer before.

“She will love this,” Elzrig said, flapping his wings and going airborne. He grabbed the meat with his claws and flew into the corridor.

The moment he arrived at the cargo bay, he dropped the meat right on Rahgon’s snout. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Big.” Rahgon grabbed the morself, chewed it twice and swallowed. “And juicy! Thank you so much! I want more. These will serve well.”

“I know, my love,” Elzrig said, flying back through the corridors, feeling a glee inside him. They would be ready for the upcoming battle.

BETH

“You wanted to talk?” Beth asked.

Milo had asked her over to his training room. How he had time to train and also do whatever preparation that was needed for the battle at the same time was beyond her. Was he getting any sleep at all? He did have dark bags under his eyes.

“Sam came with a revelation. He thinks my hook has changed and I am pretty sure he is correct,” Milo said.

“I don’t think that grumpy, war-torn man can come with anything remotely clever,” Argus said, hanging on her back.

Beth raised her hand to smack him again. It felt good smacking him.

“I will be quiet, I promise,” Argus said and she lowered her hand again. No slap this time.

“Do you really need to carry him along?” Milo said.

Beth nodded. “Cannot have Argus be alone. He might do stuff we don’t like. Everyone else is busy preparing. So, you were saying, your hook has changed?”

“Yes. The deposits are growing distinct again.The emotional focus that works better is confidence,” Milo said. “I found the fourth deposit.”

Beth added. “Yes. You told us before. I can tell that you are excited.”

“I will show you instead,” Milo said, moving his palms together. Electrical tendrils jumped the distance, but some started merging in the gap. Taking the shape of a sphere.

“You cannot win,” Argus said.

“I don’t see how you managed to become Chieftain in the first place. Your attitude is shit. You don’t have the correct material which a leader needs in order to lead,” Beth said. “And that irritating voice was not helping. Maybe I should fashion you into a weapon?”

The electrical sphere grew.

“When the current Chieftain dies, the oldest omf in the clan steps in and takes the title,” Argus said.

“What? So, not a democratic system?” Milo said. “I find that surprising. We always assumed you were a higher form of individual, since you lived so long. Beth, you didn’t know this? You and Tern were part of two different clans over the past years.”

The electrical sphere kept growing, reaching the size of a fist.

Beth shook her head. “A change of Chieftain never happened, so the subject never came into talks. I didn’t think about asking. Thousands and even millions of years can pass between the changing of leadership.”

“When you start living as long as us, you will understand the importance of ruling in this way,” Argus said. “Why would million year old omfs let hundred year omfs lead them? Preposterous.”

The electrical sphere kept growing, reaching the size of two fists.

“Maybe that is the reason why you always have clan wars. It has been nonstop since I bonded with Tern. Clan war after clan war,” Beth said.

“Some culling is needed,” Argus said.

“And you think humans are primitive!” Beth said, put Argus and his cable in the corner of the room. “Milo, let’s go and train instead. We don’t need this ball’s insults anymore. Argus, if you say another word as we work, I am definitely going to fashion you into a melee weapon.”

Argus remained silent.

“Put him down on the floor and step back, Beth,” Milo said.

Beth nodded and followed the instructions. It was a relief not having Argus’ weight on her shoulders anymore. She let the trickle of sweetness retreat.

The electrical sphere crackled between Milo’s two palms. He threw it into the air and it halted in the peak of its trajectory. A lightning bolt surged out from the sphere and struck the floor beside Argus.

“EH!” Argus yelled.

“I have created a lightning storm. The fourth deposit is creation,” Milo said. “I decide where the lightning strikes fall.”

Another lightning bolt thundered from the sphere and struck even closer to Argus.

“But for every bolt that surges from the sphere, the sphere decreases in size and potential power,” Beth said. “I saw it. I saw the sphere shrink.”

Milo nodded.

Beth pulled Milo with her to the opposite end of the room. “This is great, Milo. You have done a good job, coming back into shape. I am impressed. For my sake, can we go through all the attributes one last time? For old time’s sake.”

“Let’s do it,” Milo said.

YURI

As Yuri stepped into the training room, being called by Milo, he shouldered into Beth, who was on her way out.

“Oh,” Beth said.

“Sorry,” Yuri said, recovering from the crash. “Everyone is training today.”

“It seems like that,” Beth said.

Milo waved his arms behind Beth, ushering Yuri inside. “Come in, Yuri. Come in.”

Yuri performed a small nod. “Thanks for the opportunity. I really, really need to master my deposits better. Especially before our final battle.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get to it,” Milo said. “Yuri, what is your hook?”

“Honor,” Yuri said.

Milo paced the room, back and forth. “Blood will bump up the strength of your power by a tenfold degree. To access its deposit you will need to provoke that sensation of strength while leaning into your hook. Really lean into it. It’s easier for some, more difficult for others.”

“Lori told me that I shouldn’t be a slave to my hook,” Yuri said. “But Lori also told me a lot of nonsense and betrayed me.”

“Yeah, I heard your story about her. Don’t listen to anything she told you,” Milo said. “Try it my way. You are on our side now, not theirs. And we treat each other well. Close your eyes.”

Yuri did as he was instructed, closing his eyes and looking into his mind. The water deposit was easily found, but the others, if there were any, were hidden in the dark fog of his mind.

“Lean into your hook,” Milo said.

Yuri remembered the events where he had made the right decisions, the decision of honor. Like standing up to the Putin clones or when he tried protecting Jelena and the lives of everyone on Europe13. He leaned into the sensation, into the honor.

Something clicked in the back of his mind, and a shape took form in the distance inside his mind.

A new deposit with the red color of blood.

Yuri reached for it, but too soon and too greedily.

The hook lost focus and the blood deposit dissolved in the darkness.

Yuir opened his eyes. “Damn!”

Milo was smiling. “You were close, were you not?”

Yuri nodded.

“You need to keep your honor in focus for a while longer. When you have reached and torn into the deposist, you can calm your hook,” Milo said. “Try again.”

Yuri closed his eyes and tried the exercise once more. Honor. Jelena. The blood deposits grew into distinction in the dark fog of his mind. He reached for it, but no too quickly and not too greedily. The blood deposits snapped into distinction when he was close enough. The red, thick liquid moved back and forth inside the transparent deposit, inviting him. He inhaled, before tearing into the deposit.

The taste of iron rushed into his mouth.

Yuri’s skin flowed into marble and fist sized malachite rocks came into existence, rushing across his hands and arms. Their edges were black with obsidian. Jelena’s favorite combination. The rocks curled around his arms, behaving like his pebbles. They wanted to be discharged. He raised his palms towards the bulkhead wall.

“I don’t think that is such a great idea. The wall will not withstand it,” Milo said.

Yuri nodded, making the iron retreat. The rocks vanished and his skin flowed into normal. He relaxed.

“I did it,” Yuri said.

“I know. You just needed some proper training,” Milo said.

“Thank you so much,” Yuri said, straining to keep the tears away. Now Simon would stand no chance against him.

“Yuri, you will need to stand up to him. Don’t give in,” Milo said.

“What?” Yuri said.

“Here you go. Even for me this thing is heavy.” Samuels put down a large rod looking object to the floor, huge batteries were attached to the rod’s sides. Metal coils curled around the rod. Samuels looked at Yuri. “Everyone is training today.”

Milo stepped in between them. “This is my doing. We cannot have the anger between you to compromise our mission. Shake hands and make peace.”

“No,” Samuels said, crossing his arms.

Yuri sighed and reached a hand towards Samuels. “I am big enough of a man to know when to quit.”

“Sam,” Milo said. “For the sake of the mission.”

“No,” Samuels said.

“You are such a coward, Sam,” Yuri said, before releasing what he had just said.

“Goddamn you, Yuri. You don’t call me Sam, you ass. I do not allow it,” Samuels said.

“Sam. Come one. Think about the mission,” Milo said.

Samuels bit down, his jaw muscles flexed, and he reached out a hand towards Yuri. Yuri grabbed it. The motor muscles along Samuels’ arm and hand engaged, making him squeeze his hand with awesome force. Yuri let the sweetness trickle into his mouth, his skin flowed into marble and he squeezed back. They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Truce?” Yuri said.

Samuels squeezed even harder, the motor muscles whining because of the strain. “Truce.” Samuels let go.

Yuri let the sweetness retreat and his skin flowed back into normal.

Samules nodded at Yuri and then Milo. “See you later Capt’n.” Samuels left.

“Nicely done, Yuri,” Milo said. “You wanted a cannon. This is almost that. A lightning rod. Claire helped me with the batteries, but I will fill them with juice. This used to be a weapon on Sam’s rig. But I thought you would like it better. Everyone deserves an upgrade.”

Yuri grabbed the lightning rod, by letting the sweetness trickle into his mouth, pebbles curled around his arms and formed leverage between him and the rod. He lifted it, the pebbles connected the weapon to his side, providing even better leverage. Samuels had been right, it was heavy, but Yuri was clever. With the leverage which his pebbles formed, he was able to hold the rod steady with one arm. His fingers touched the trigger. He aimed at the bulkhead wall and squeezed the trigger. A lightning bolt thundered through the coils before crossing the distance, slamming into the wall.

“A lightning cannon. This will serve well,” Yuri said.