“So what are they thinking?”

“It’s bad enough hearing all the voices in my head without the walls talking to me as well,” Kev muttered in response to Bob’s question. He settled from his floating meditation, landing softly on the settee.

He brought his hands up to rub his temples but it didn’t help. Nothing helped except for being alone. Those hours he spent on the surface of the red world, where he sped through the pathetic dregs of the atmosphere until he was far enough away that his thoughts became his own again were precious, and far too rare.

“The first lot of aliens are ok. They figured they were dead as soon as they rebelled because of the atmosphere being turned off on the Hatgrutship. They’ll play ball.”

“And the squids?” Bob asked.

“They’re a different kettle of calamari. They’re in it for themselves. Now the portal has closed, they feel stuck here and they are looking for angles and advantages.” The boy sighed as he dropped his hands to his lap and clenched them into fists. “Their minds are so… alien. And I’m not being funny. They’ve never seen the sky, never walked in a forest. They’re comfortable with the corridors rather than the terrariums. They’re like lab rats or something,” he muttered as he rose to his feet.

“I’ll need a breakdown on their history as they understand it please. You’re ready to go back?” Bob asked gently from a speaker.

“No. But if I don’t I’ll never take that jump. Where are the others?”

“Waiting by the portal.”

Kev walked the empty corridors of Mars but he was never alone. The voices in his head kept him company.

You’re a devil, little Kevin. Mindscar’s voice. The copy he had taken hated him as much as the real one would if she knew what he had done. Her laughter echoed in his mind.

Freak! You should step out an airlock! One of the humans who had been brought back to Earth after being outcast by the system. Monster! One of the aliens. With a mental flex the voices fell away. They babbled away somewhere at the back of his mind but it no longer entered his main train of thought.

Don’t worry about them, kid. Bunch of assholes. The certitude flowing from his copy of Amit snuck around his controls, probably due to having a positive sentiment rather than shit talking him from inside his own brain. There was a sense of a fight, some battle of wills within the growing menagerie of minds he curated and Amit emerged triumphant, battering the others into silence. Having a good friend's dad inside your head was a strange experience but he was glad he’d stolen a copy all those months ago. Corridors flowed by, bland and grey. Endless walls and doors merged into a blur as he navigated using the map in his HUD.

“Hey mate!” Sally blurred over to him before the door had finished opening and pulled him into a hug. Their armour clanged as his body was pulled against hers before she backed off with a mousy grin and dragged him into the room. Bad smiled broadly at him and the others also either waved or smiled, happy to see him out of his room at last.

“So what’s the job?” Kev asked as he moved over and sat down in a chair facing the circle of his friends.

“Got some Cullers. Might be left over Scunners, we never got all of those bastards. They’re operating out of a small town in Ayrshire. Kirkcudbright, it’s called. Catchy name, I know. It managed to avoid being picked clean by the Scunners all those years ago and has become a bit of a regional capital.”

“And what are we up against?” asked Jane, practically bouncing up and down on her fireproof chair.

“Maybe four or five Cullers. Level range is thirty to thirty five. Wayfaire wants to deal with it themselves rather than getting Life or War involved. Keep it in-house,” Bob replied.

“Local forces?” asked Bad, in a matter of fact tone.

Kev was studying the air, watching the colours and smells that his friends' emotions were generating in his warped perception. Enthusiasm, excitement, joy at the thought of release from this exile on Mars were the predominant flavours. A little nervousness but no fear… he sniffed and his head spun. He locked eyes with Ryn and without meaning to dipped into her thoughts.

They were a jumble. She was afraid. Afraid of being a disappointment, of failing to live up to the legacy of Sunstrike and the Traveller. Afraid of getting her friends hurt. The battle in France had left deep scars in her mind now she’d had time to assimilate what happened. He pulled back carefully and smiled gently at her. She raised an eyebrow before looking away. He had to keep his power under control, damn it. They were all child soldiers but some of them had taken to it better than others.

“Some guardians. Been there since the end of the third wave in some cases, others are newer but they’re all from the local area. Most aren’t even in the twenties so won’t be a problem for you. They are a bit close knit, though. We’ve tagged you to look into it because of certain advantages you have,” Bob replied.

“You mean me.” Armand's voice was glum. He’d largely come through the depression that had resulted from his fathers death but sometimes it resurfaced at unexpected times.

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“Yep. You can fudge the teams Identify reports. You’ll go in on foot as caravan escorts,” Bob replied gently.

“Don’t they get most of their supplies from the airship routes and the portals?” asked Jane. “And how the hell is Armand going to hide me?” Being made of fire did present an interesting challenge when it came to subterfuge.

“You, Sally, Bolf and Bad are being held in reserve. We’ll deploy you separately and you’ll wait a few miles away.”

“You want to send all the squishies in on their own?” Bad snapped. “Let at least one of us go as well?”

“It’s a deliberate move. The Cullers are bruisers around level thirty five. We send the ‘squishies’ in showing as high twenties, without bruisers to protect them. Then we let nature take its course.”

“We’re bait?” asked Claire. “I don’t like that!”

“The heavies will be a couple of minutes out. Ryn can teleport you all out if she needs to. You’ll have discreet drone support as well. This is a collar and catch job. You’re playing Pokemon not Palworld. We want them alive for interrogation,” said Bob via a speaker on the wall.

“By interrogation do you mean handing them over to the Dragon?” asked Ryn, glancing up at the walls.

“Probably. Kev will be able to get most of what we need if we can get them somewhere isolated.”

“Why isolated?” Simon demanded. “He can just park up a few miles away and read their bloody minds, right?”

“I could but I’m not used to the number of voices I’ll be able to hear. Before… It was just feelings, then surface thoughts. Now it’s like everything is laid bare. I have to fight to not know everything about everyone because if I don’t I’ll go mad.” Ryn leant over and put a hand on Kev’s arm, smiling sadly at her friend. She straightened up and looked across at her friends. They seemed determined, if a little unhappy at the limitations they’d be working under.

“So we identify them with Kev then I blip them out without roasting them too badly. Might it be worth having Claire at the secondary location to handle anyone who gets a bit too toasty?”

“That’s fine by me!” said Claire quickly. Bad and Sally both chuckled at her eagerness to avoid playing bait. The girl was dangerous, extremely so, but she hadn’t come to appreciate just how far beyond most of humanity she now was.

“You could serve as an off-tank no problem. Just heal all the damage as it happens. Or return it to the sender and watch them melt,” scoffed Simon. Claire looked uncertain, glancing back and forth between the alliance of Bad and Sally and the tinker.

“Best you’re ready for the lightly roasted culprits eh?” said Jane, for once taking pity on the shy girl and not exploiting an opportunity to tease her. Claire grimaced but nodded.

“So Ryn, Simon, Armand, Kev and Andrea will be going in as caravan guards?” asked Sally. “No offence guys but you’re all too nice! Anyone who's dealt with a caravan guard will know you’re not legit.”

“No they won’t. I’ll deal with that,” said Kev.

“As will I! Mon Dieu! I can make anyone see anything. We can do this,” said Armand firmly.

“Don’t get cocky, kid,” said a speaker on the wall. “I’m sure you’ll all be fine but you need to be careful. The ‘guards’ will be leaving from Killinghall tomorrow. You can portal there, I’ve already done the negotiations for you. I maintain a large number of online personas so I burned one of them setting this up. They’ll be much more careful next time.”

“I don’t want to be in the first team,” said Simon gently. “I’m not a good fit.”

“Why not?” asked Bob.

“I need to prepare the terrain to be valuable. I’d just be a burden. I can prep your lines of retreat in case you need to get out of there.”

“Ok.” Kev nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“How do the rest of us get into position?” asked Sally, flicking a foot back and forth.

“I’ve got an Egg set aside for you all. It will drop you and some drone escorts off when Ryn and the others are in position.”

“What do we need to know about the caravan?” asked Ryn.

“They do the run from the Inheritors up to the hill tribes regularly. Someone offered their regular guards a very lucrative job that they couldn’t turn down,” said Bob.

“An offer they couldn’t refuse?” chuckled Bad.

“Not like that. A lot of Essence and better conditions to go work in Spain for a few months. They don’t know it was me who made the offer or that it’s me they’re working for on the continent.”

“Bob, why the hell are you running caravans? You’ve got BFOs, airships, Eggs and the best portal access on the planet!” asked Andrea with surprising confidence.

“I like to keep a finger in many pies.”

"Gross, dude,” muttered Simon. “Setting aside your dubious business practices, you’re sure the switch will pass muster?”

“I need to know what goods are being run around off the network. It’s good market research,” Bob said slightly defensively. “Whether it passes muster is down to you all but mostly Kev and Armand. Are your illusions up to scratch?”

“Oui,” Armand said curtly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

“I can help,” Kev almost whispered.

“What characters are we playing? I’m guessing the fake power name will be vaguely close to what we can actually do, in case we run into any monsters or Cullers on the road?” asked Ryn.

“You won’t run into anything you can’t handle, that I can promise. You’ll need to not be too obvious. Andrea, it might be worth copying a bruiser, maybe Sally or if you can get a chance maybe someone like Brendan in Wayfaire. That would give you an on hand bruiser. Ryn you’ll be a fire user, so blasting rather than blipping. Simon, you can pass as a tinker. Kev-”

“I can be a proscribed psyker. Just don’t make it obvious,” he glanced at Armand who nodded hesitantly.

“What? Why? “ asked Sally, confused.

“Because I am. It will also give us credibility if this caravan is as off the books as Bob is suggesting,” he replied.

“You have control powers?” asked Bolf, his hackles rising slightly as his back tensed.

“I do.”

“No wonder you’ve been hiding away in your room!” said Sally. She stood up and walked over to rest a hand on the lanky boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry mate. We’ll stick by you.”

“You’re all forgetting the Accords and the proscriptions are basically gone. Some places still vet psykers, some don’t, some have been taken over by people who used to be Minders,” said Bob.

“Mindscar's little illegal club,” Kev muttered then winced as the copy of Mindscar began screaming in his head.

“Either way, Kirkcudbright pretends to stick to the rules Wayfaire and Ascension insist on. In reality they aren’t that sticky. A guard with a proscribed power might be just the thing we need to get them to trust you,” said Bob.

“Can’t Kev just rip the info from them against their will? Why do we need them to trust us?” asked Armand.

“If they have similar powers to me they’ll have resistance to my ability. So we need to get close, maybe rough them up a bit for me to get in. The other thing is we don’t want to reveal what we’re capable of,” Kev said standing up. “Right Bob? Wheels within wheels?”

“Something like that kid. Got to keep the bastards guessing.”