Sasha Blake lounged near a Starsprinter, a small fast “courier class” Terran freighter. She tried to at least look calm. A Terran Intelligence operative just standing here with her tits hanging out with the fucking Feds on the way? Not smart.

She took a long slow hit on a vape pen taking in a lungful of bliss, a mild relaxant and euphoric, something she would normally never do on a mission but her nerves were shot. They had slaughtered over a hundred Fed agents not that long ago.

Hell, she had pulled the trigger on a few of them herself. They had to be dying for payback.

Helen had better fucking know what she was doing.

A nondescript pale gray cargo van pulled up and a very nervous looking pol-ka got out. Sasha winced. He was so fucking obvious… and scared. He actually looked worse than she did. It was the opposite of reassuring. There were way too many raw nerves and itchy trigger fingers in one spot for her comfort.

The pol-ka, his crest fully deflated and looking around constantly, spotted her. She raised her hand and brushed her hair over her left ear, the signal. He walked up.

“Excuse me, is this ship the Green Greyhound?” he asked.

“No, it’s the Silver Slipper,” she replied.

“I see,” he replied swallowing back a mouthful of nervous mucus. “I am very sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

“Eh, I never really did like the miserable fuck. Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she replied completing the passphrase.

The pol-ka nodded and returned to the van. He opened the back and guided a floating coffin over to where Sasha was standing.

“Sign here, please,” he said producing a tablet. She scrawled a couple of nonsense words. “So, is this as strange for you as it is for me?” he asked with a little smile.

“Stranger,” she replied returning his smile. “I was half expecting a stun bolt and a neural inductor.”

“And I,” he said still looking about, “am expecting to be gifted with an extra orifice any second. Let’s hope things go back to normal soon. I am much more comfortable stabbing your kind in the shadows.”

“Likewise,” she laughed. “Nice meeting you, peckerhead.”

“Have a good trip, Terran animal,” he replied finally relaxing a little. He, trying not to trot, quickly walked to the van and drove off.

Sasha just shook her head as he drove off. “Can’t believe I’m fucking doing this...” she muttered as she guided the floating coffin into her ship.

***

Jaxona was standing in Jon’s office swinging back and forth anxiously in her globe while Jon drank a cup of coffee and reviewed some reports.

“Great!” Jaxona said with a happy little swirl. “Just got word that the, um… package… has been delivered!”

“Good,” Jon replied with a smile, “Glad that’s over with. Thanks for not shooting our agent.”

“Oh we would never do that!” Jaxona exclaimed. “We had a deal and everything!”

“Yeah,” Jon chuckled, “And you actually kept it. We have have some scientists just dying to tear into the little present you just gave us.”

“Super!” Jaxona exclaimed. “I hope you guys have better luck than we did cause we didn’t find out a darn thing!”

“No promises,” Jon replied. “We’ve been going over some pretty detailed scans for a little while now. I have to hand it to her. The vampire has really done it this time. I know you have your hopes up because of our reputation but what she has achieved… fuck. It’s years ahead of its time.”

“Vampire?”

“A Terran monster legend from the days of old, a quite fitting title for our mutual friend.” Jon smiled.

“Oh neat! I will read up on them!” Jaxona exclaimed bouncing up and down happily. “Well, I should probably scoot! Bye!” Jaxona said as she started backing out of his office. “Bye!… Bye!...”

“Bye!” Jon replied smiling despite himself. He liked the little fish. He was, however, disinclined to buy her whole “nice fish” act. You don’t get to be a Kalent Forum anything by being all sweetness and light especially at her age and she was “innocently” wheeling and dealing corpses like it was everyday business. He really wished he could bring Republic Intelligence to bear on that little eel, find out what her deal actually was.

Still, despite more than a few suspicions, he liked her. Didn’t trust her any further than he could throw her bot but he liked her.

***

Mark Black sat at the yacht club with his wife Shelly.

“You’re staring again,” she said with a smile on her face.

“I can’t help it, you’re beautiful,” he replied. She was. She was just as beautiful as the day he bought her. He was just a young raider back then. Not only did she cost everything he owned, he had to kill two other people just to keep her.

On the bright side, the killings catapulted him into a leadership position among the Long Shanks. Over the years during both the Sol Wars and the years that followed he built upon that, clawing, biting, and killing his way up the ranks until he finally sat on Grant Shanks right side.

After Mr. Shanks’ untimely demise he was the one who wound up on top. Now, with the fall of the Red Teeth they were poised to become the single most powerful human organization, both legal and illegal, in the Federation.

And he owed it all to her, his muse, his princess. The fight to obtain her and to keep her was what put him where he was today. He took a sip of wine and smiled at her again.

She was just too beautiful.

Shelly smiled back at him fondly. He wasn’t exactly what one would call ravishingly handsome but he certainly wasn’t ugly and what lurked between his ears was rare, a combination of intelligence, ruthlessness, and yet at the same time warmth and love… well for her anyway.

And after all isn’t that what matters?

He took her from a slave pen, starvation, and rape to a safe warm cabin. After she met him she was never hungry (well starving anyway) or afraid again. After the wars, their prospects steadily rose higher and higher as they climbed a blood soaked stairway all the way to the top. What he couldn’t outsmart he simply crushed beneath his feet. He was the perfect man, warm and caring to his family and utterly ruthless to everyone else. Back in the day she ruled the station. Few dared challenge her when all she had to do was snap her fingers and Mark would kill.

She looked down at her hands, the hands of a young woman! This was unbelievable, truly miraculous.

She frowned. She just wished that they didn’t have to make a deal with the literal devil to get it.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked, “Did they screw up your steak again? If they did...”

“No, it’s fine,” she replied slicing it and holding up a piece for inspection. “Look. Perfect medium-rare.” She took a sip of some truly excellent wine and tried to smile. He wouldn’t buy it. He always saw through her fake smiles.

“Then what is it?”

“I just wish we weren’t in bed with that monster.”

Mark sighed. They have had this conversation before, several times.

“Grant wasn’t much better, darling,” he replied as he sipped some more wine. “Dark days require dark deals, remember?”

“But are they?” Shelly asked. “Are they dark days? We have everything we ever wanted. We’re even legitimate now… mostly…”

“Slowly dying of old age make for some pretty dark days in my book,” Mark chuckled. “It’s nice not hurting every goddamn morning and being able to properly make love to you without throwing out my back is worth another dance with the devil or two. You have to admit it’s nice.”

“Yes, dear, but at what cost?” Shelly asked scratching her arm uncomfortably.

“It’s still itching?” Mark asked with concern.

“A little,” she replied. “The doctor says that it’s a normal reaction to the treatment. According to him it will pass.”

“Great!” Mark replied. “And as far as dealing with her is concerned, she may be evil incarnate but she respects strength. It will work out just fine. You’ll see! We will have everything we ever dreamed of!”

“We already did,” Shelly said in a less than happy voice.

***

Late that evening Jon was laying awake in bed at the embassy. Skippy had gone back to her home system to handle council business. Christ, he missed her. It was only for a few days but it felt like forever.

He chuckled. He was pining away like some lovesick kid. He pulled out the latest message from her and played the little video she attached for what was probably the hundredth time. It was just her walking through some very normal looking woods doing some foraging and identifying various plants and strange looking animals for him. Nothing tawdry but he just loved watching it. Her toothy grin just lit up the whole room.

It sucked when she was gone but he did enjoy going to the noodle shop without her. The owner was much freer with the disapproving glances when she was gone. He decided that he was going to try to learn their language. There was no way in hell that he could ever speak it but he would just love to know what that ratty hare was muttering under his breath when nobody else was around.

He bet it was funny as hell.

As he was drifting off to sleep the communicator he kept under his pillow issued a series of tones in a particular sequence. It was their code for “incoming”. He reached into a pocket that he had next to his mattress and pulled out his sidearm.

Just as he got himself properly positioned and the pistol properly concealed the door to his room silently opened and a slender figure entered completely without a sound.

“Easy, there,” a familiar voice purred. “I just came to chat.”

Oh shit, Jon thought, Crimson. He was more than a little concerned. He had read her file. She was bad news. If she made a move he wasn’t entirely sure he could stop her. Red-tips only work if you actually hit the target.

“Ok, so talk,” Jon replied standing up no longer bothering to hide his sidearm. His people were on the way. He didn’t have to stall her for long.

“Just wanted a few minutes with the man who denied the queen bitch herself,” Crimson said with a smile as she plopped onto a couch intentionally putting herself in a vulnerable position. “You’re the only one who has, in case you didn’t know.”

“She send you here to give it another try?” Jon asked with a smirk. “Hang on,” he said pulling out his communicator. “Stand down,” he said into it.

“Sir?” Toby’s voice replied.

“We’re good here,” Jon said. “Just hold position for now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Crimson smiled. “Thanks for calling off the death squad.”

“Didn’t feel like getting my bedroom shot to hell for no reason,” Jon replied.

“Returning to our conversation, she didn’t send me,” Crimson replied, “And while I would love to have a taste of what she couldn’t get I’m pretty sure you won’t let me get close enough to try.” she chuckled. “Besides, your heart belongs to another doesn’t it?”

“What?” Jon asked as nonchalantly as he could. He could hear his heart beating in his chest. If they know...

“It’s the only logical conclusion,” Crimson chuckled. “When Patricia visited you the night before you absolutely humiliated her,” she said her eyes gleaming with delight, “she dosed you with a pretty nasty poison.”

“Did she now?” Jon replied calmly.

“Before she entered the room she bit into one of these,” Crimson said putting a small capsule on the coffee table. “The vapors trigger an avalanche of hormones and neurotransmitters in the victim. It causes something akin to the combination of love at first sight, your wedding day, and seeing your newborn child all at the same time but several times more powerful. When she hit you with that and then did something to imprint herself in your mind it should have locked her in as the sole object of your… well your everything. It’s pretty nasty stuff.”

Jon nodded silently. That explained a lot.

“There are only three ways that you could have shaken it,” Crimson said. “The first is that you just happened to have an antidote and even we don’t have a good one. We can only treat the effects. The second way is that you simply have the will of a god.” she chuckled. “Even then it would still be eating you up inside. Unless you are the actor of the century that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“I did take theater in high school,” Jon snickered.

“The third and only way that I consider remotely possible,” Crimson smiled, “Is that you already had someone you already were bonded to. For a normal person, it wouldn’t be enough. That bond would be overwritten by that snake. However, if the victim has a strong enough will and their feelings for their mate were deep enough it is possible that the poison would reinforce that bond instead of delivering the victim into the clutches of our favorite bitch. You have someone we don’t know about, don’t you?”

“That sounds like the plot of a really bad romance novel,” Jon said dismissively as he planned the shot he was about two seconds from taking.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“You left the embassy not long after she dosed you and were gone the entire night,” Crimson said, “We couldn’t follow you because we were being hunted but we do know when you left and when you returned… in a much better mood.”

Jon frowned. That meant they had eyes in the front of the house.

“Ralph Jessup,” Crimson said with a grin. “You are wondering who told us, he’s one of ours now.”

Jon didn’t reply. He just snarled. He had known Jessup for years. She could be lying but he knew deep down she wasn’t.

Crimson pulled out a slip of paper.

“Here is a list of everyone we have turned here in the embassy,” she said as she dropped it on the coffee table alongside the capsule.

“Awfully nice of you,” Jon said narrowing his eyes at Crimson. “Why the gift? I’m pretty sure the vampire wouldn’t be too happy with you if she found out.”

“Short answer,” Crimson replied, “I hate her. I always have.”

“And the long answer?”

“I assume you have a file on me?” Crimson asked. “What did it say about how I joined her merry little band of psychopaths?”

“It said that you were a member of a raider gang they hit and that your final stand was so impressive that she recruited you.”

“Heh,” Crimson chuckled darkly, “That’s one way of putting it. Do you know why my last stand was so ‘heroic’?”

“That wasn’t in the file.”

“My epic last stand was in a corridor. There were… people behind me… people very important to me.”

“Oh,” Jon said grimly.

“Yeah, out of ammo, using one of their swords… I was holding my own… Until she walked up. She… toyed with me… I was nothing but a joke to her, Jon. It was like fighting… nothing… a shadow. She just laughed and knocked me down… again and again and again… taunting me… Each time she knocked me down she just laughed and reminded me who was behind me… Told me what they were going to do to them… Over and over and over till I couldn’t get up anymore… Then she… she… just kicked me to the side and walked past me with her men and they… they… I could hear them… the begging… the screams…”

“Christ...” Jon muttered.

Crimson trailed off into silence for a little while.

“Then they came for me. I thought I would be next but no. I was brought in front of her. They had a… a table laid out… She told me that I had proven my worth and that I had a choice. I could sit at the table and live or I could join my friends and family on it… alive… I… I should have spit in her face… or attacked her… but… I wanted to live, Jon. There was nobody left to defend, no lives to protect anymore except my own so I… I ate. I ate my own… God… I just wanted to live, Jon. I should have… well it doesn’t matter now does it?”

“Crimson… I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be. I don’t deserve it. I was a coward… am a coward… Anyway, I had just done the absolute worst thing I could have ever done… it broke me. For a long time I didn’t care anymore. I was a horrible person running with horrible people and doing what I needed to in order to survive. I was in hell and if I was in hell I might as well become one of her demons, right? She was… is… very good to those who please her so that’s exactly what I did. No matter what she asked, no matter how fucked up, how evil, I did it without hesitation. Wasn’t long before I died inside and it became easy and I was just another of her lieutenants, and later a Bloodlord.”

“So you are saying that you didn’t have a choice?”

“No. I had a choice and I made it,” Crimson replied calmly. “I chose to do whatever I had to to survive and prosper. And it paid off. After the wars we became a business and political organization and I had wealth and power and all the nice things that came with it. For most of the last hundred and fifty years I’ve handled paperwork and less than above board deals. I was a businesswoman, mostly. Aside from the sacrament we were just like any other mega-corporation.”

“The sacrament?” Jon asked dubiously.

“Yeah, her ladyship likes to ‘remind us of our roots’ by having the upper echelon engage in ritual cannibalism on a regular basis. Well, that and she enjoys it.”

“Christ...”

“It’s mostly porkies,” Crimson said dismissively. “Well that and people who cross her. Your little mouse hasn’t been brought to the table yet, by the way, but she will. Her ladyship has her sights on that poor little rodent.”

“Dawn?” Jon asked in alarm.

“Yeah, poor kid,” Crimson replied. “She has no idea what she is about to get into. Soon, very soon, she will be given the same option we all had. Sit at the table or be on it.”

Jon took a deep breath and with a little effort kept his composure.

“If anything happens to her...”

“You have much bigger worries than the mouse, my friend,” Crimson replied. “Right now her ladyship has bigger concerns but once the next phase of her plans are underway she will be coming for you and your sweet little girlfriend. She had dreams of adding you to our fold but those dreams have been dashed and you are now a threat not to mention the fact that you humiliated her in front of her men. Too many of us know exactly what happened. We don’t dare speak of it but we know she was defeated. She can’t let that stand. She is also a petty vindictive bitch. You need to be ready and if there is someone that you love here in the capital you need to get them the fuck away, far away.”

“Since you are in a talkative mood,” Jon said sitting down on the edge of his bed, “feel like letting me know what her plans are?”

“Sure,” Crimson said with a smile. “Her endgame goal is complete control of the Republic and to remake it into her vision of what humanity should be. It might come as a surprise that her vision of humanity doesn’t have a lot of humanity in it. She is going to tear the whole Republic down, plunge it into anarchy, just like the good old days.”

“Fuck me,” Jon said quietly.

“Yeah, she wants to bring the Sol Wars back and this time she is planning on winning. Patricia Hu will be the Zeus Corp of the thirty-second century and the Republic will be just a memory if she pulls it off.”

“Easier said than done.”

“True, that’s why she has been planning this for decades, putting the right people in the right positions, stockpiling materials, supplies, food, and weapons, funding research, development, exploration… you name it. Looking back, I believe she has been thinking of this ever since the Sol Wars ended.”

“As much as I want to say this would be impossible I have studied history,” Jon said grimly. “How is she planning on doing this?”

“War,” Crimson replied. “She is going to cause total war with the Federation. Originally it was supposed to be a war with the Empire but after the Great War she altered her plans. After our last little dance the Federation isn’t going to fuck around. They will mass their entire fleet and their entire army and they will won’t be trying to ‘liberate’ or subdue us. They will be coming to destroy us. Their fear of us will turn them into exactly the tool that she wants them to be.”

“Even then,” Jon said, “even if they send their entire fleet it will just be one big shooting gallery. Our system defenses and our navy-”

“Will be compromised,” Crimson said. “She has people everywhere. Our defense stations and our ships will be sabotaged. Ideally it will be civilians and just enough military left to put up a valiant, doomed, resistance.”

“How?” Jon asked his blood running cold. At any other time he would laugh something this ridiculous off but considering the source it sounded entirely too possible.

“I’m not involved in that part of the planning,” Crimson replied. “From what I’ve gathered it is going to be a combination of good old fashioned bombs, even the Retribution can’t survive if one of it’s nukes goes off inside, and malware that will knock out the controls of the numerous smaller craft like the shrikes or cause a premature detonation of ordinance. Pretty much the entire navy will go down. Then, it will just be the civilians and whatever few naval vessels that can slip the noose. It will still be one hell of a fight but we will tragically and heroically lose that first decisive battle. It will then be revealed that ‘traitors’ inside the Republic’s own government were responsible and a coup under the guise of eliminating those ‘traitors’ will take place. The coup will be intentionally very messy and result in the engineered collapse of the entire Republic. From the fires, death, and chaos a new leader will rise. People will be afraid, enraged, grief-stricken… hungry… They will be screaming for revenge and who better than the Horde Mother of old to offer them exactly what they will want, fire, blood, and death. She never trusted peace. She never trusted the Republic. She never trusted any other race except Republic humans, just like anyone with any sense should. She will have supplies, ships, weapons, medicine, everything the Terrans will need. She will be their salvation.”

“But what about the Federation?” Jon asked.

“Even if they win and win big at first do you honestly think they can hold Terran space? If the Juon Empire at its worst couldn’t take Sol what chance does the Federation have? New forces will be raised and new ships built at the Grand Shipyards all under the ‘immortals’ that have taken power in the chaos. They will then put her in charge and under her leadership the Federation will be driven off. Then, with the Terrans bloodied and screaming for payback the war will be taken to the Federation and it won’t stop. The more bloody and costly the better, at least at first.”

“She can’t possibly think she can destroy the entire Federation,” Jon said quietly.

“Never underestimate the Terran people, Jon,” Crimson said with a grim smile. “With the Grand Shipyards untouched, the rapidly recovering economy completely mobilized, and the entire remaining population as potential warriors we can field an amazing force in a very short time and we can keep pumping out the next generations of cannon fodder as we go. If raised to fight from birth you can field a warrior at a very young age especially if they are flying a fighter or crewing a warship. Child soldiers are unthinkable now but when the survival of the ‘real’ human race is a stake? Of course that also involves indoctrination from birth doesn’t it? In a few short decades mankind as you know it will no longer exist, replaced by a species where their very humanity has been replaced by ‘resolve’. The genocidal rise of the Terran Empire will begin. She has a flag and everything.”

“She’s insane.”

“You just figuring that out?,” Crimson laughed. “She's bugshit crazy but it doesn’t mean it won’t work. The details are chilling.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a data crystal and set it on the coffee table next to the slip of paper and capsule of love poison. “I wrote down everything I know about it on there including lists of all known conspirators.” She smiled sadly. “Unfortunately I don’t have a complete list of those in the Republic. Aside from her ladyship only Monarch and Marrow knows all of them. I do, however, have a complete list of those in the Federation and that will be very important very soon.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“To answer that we have to ask another question,” Crimson said with a grim smile. “You’ve never asked how she is so sure that her people will do exactly what she tells them to do and will hand over power to her without any issues.”

“I was wondering about that.”

“There is an old saying, ‘If it sounds too good to be true it probably is.’ Her fountain of youth is a perfect example,” Crimson said with a dark chuckle. “Let’s just say that if I had an option I wouldn’t have taken advantage of it.”

“Oh?”

“It isn’t a cure for old age, it’s a treatment,” Crimson said with a smile. “And once you start that treatment you really, really don’t want to stop. You stop the treatment, you die… badly. Your cells start to mutate and die and you go from young and beautiful to necrotic and cancerous. They don’t realize it yet but every single person who has taken her up on her wonderful generous gift is now completely dependent upon her for the rest of their lives. She is, of course, in complete control of the formula. She isn’t happy with you, you get cut off and die. She dies or becomes imprisoned, everyone dies. Of course she also offered the treatments to their spouses and other family members as well.”

“How did she manage to pull that off?”

“The formula is in several parts all of which are encrypted. Only she has the codes. Each of her labs has no idea what they are making and someone as fanatical as Marrow himself is present during the entire synthesis. The doctors know how to assemble the retroviruses and other components and administer the treatment but they are just following a recipe and scanning is not the best idea because once again, one of her mindless zealots is standing right there. The actual researchers are sequestered at a very secure site and sorry, I don’t know where it is. From what I understand it’s quite lovely but they are never leaving. You would have to ask Marrow or maybe Monarch but I don’t think they will be very forthcoming. Besides, the researchers are still very very busy for a very good reason.”

“Do tell.”

“It may not surprise you but we are very big on innovation but not quite so big on ethics,” Crimson said with a wry smile.

“Shocker,” Jon replied calmly as he tried to process everything he was hearing.

“You know all those pesky regulations when it comes to human trials? Yeah, we skipped those,” Crimson chuckled. “Funny thing about all of those guidelines and regulations. They do slow you down, a lot, but they also enforce good research, good science. They keep you from cutting corners.” Crimson grinned with genuine pleasure. “In this case, maybe cutting all those corners wasn’t the best idea.”

“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“Yep, this wonderful magical fountain of youth?” Crimson laughed, “It’s flawed. We’re all dying... slowly... but dying just the same.”

“No shit?” Jon asked happily.

“No shit,” Crimson chuckled. “The treatments still work but we are having to slowly but surely increase the frequency of them to prevent degradation. What was supposed to be a yearly treatment became every ten months, then eight… It’s still a little less than eight months but we are doing them twice a year now. The increased frequency seems to slow down the underlying issue but it’s not stopping it. We are young and pretty but our lifespans definitely have not gone up, quite the contrary actually. We probably only have a few years to fix this, if it can be fixed, and our research team has, despite very strong encouragement, not made much progress.”

“And she’s still planning on this whole Terran Empire bullshit?”

“Not until she fixes the treatment,” Crimson smiled grimly. “That’s where the porkies come in.”

“What do the porkies have to do with this?”

“Do you honestly think Patricia fucking Hu would ever work with the porkies?” Crimson laughed. “She hates them more than any person that I know. I think it’s why we were so fucked up back in the day. She just hated them that bad. And speaking of fucked up, what she has done to them this time is one of the worst things she has ever done to our little curly-tailed friends.”

“I take it that their ‘treatments’ have a little less treat in them?” Jon asked dreading the answer.

“You got it. Our favorite psychopath decided that what this little problem required was a larger sample size. The treatment that they have received is rapidly degrading, designed to last just long enough to look good before it turns to shit.”

“That’s a lot of trouble to go to for just a few more lab rats,” Jon replied.

“Not just a few more lab rats,” Crimson said grimly. “There is another difference between our treatment and theirs. Our treatment relies heavily on retroviruses. Their treatment, however, has a true viral stage.”

“Oh fuck me...”

“Yep. It is becoming very very contagious, like bio-weapon contagious. It will spread like wildfire targeting the people in closest proximity first, namely the other movers and shakers. In one fell swoop she will start to wipe out the porkies from the top down. From country clubs to boardrooms they will all start to sicken and die horribly as the effects of end stage degradation sets in immediately. Both the rapid spread and the status of the first victims will immediately have researchers across the Federation, both human and non human on the case within days. Fearing its spread the Republic and the Empire will undoubtedly follow suit. Instead of one research team working on her little problem she will have the entire galaxy. Think of it as enforced crowdsourcing. We may even get lucky and someone will wind up to be immune to the effects.”

“If she wants a war that will do it,” Jon said grimly.

“Way ahead of you,” Crimson chuckled. “A manifesto from an as yet unknown porkie terrorist group is about to be released calling it retribution for the rich corrupt “porkie slime” starting the war that destroyed their homes and killed their loved ones. They will of course be found only to discover all of them dead from the same killer virus. Their research logs will indicate that the virus was not intended to be easily transmittable. Quite the contrary in fact. It will look like they screwed up big time and that the porkies unleashed the plague on themselves,” Crimson said with a dark laugh. “We can’t have civilization ending just yet. We need them to fix our fuck up first. When they come up with a cure for the bio-weapon we will be able to use that to either completely fix or at least treat our degradation problem. At the very least we get centuries of extra man hours worth of research. As a plus she gets to kill a shitload of porkies.”

“I would shoot her myself but I have to figure out a way to fix this,” Jon muttered.

“You don’t think it hasn’t been tried?” Crimson laughed. “She’s… inhuman. It’s like she can smell the bullets and now that this ball is in play she is going to be well protected by some very good people.”

“You mean people like you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You think I’m walking back there after this little visit?” Crimson laughed. “I’m walking right out the front door and then I’m going to run and never look back. The degradation can claim me. I deserve it. I’m done with this, all of this. I… I just can’t… not anymore… Not again… I can’t… I won’t.”

“Why?” Jon asked, “Why now?”

“Because you have given me hope,” Crimson replied. “When you overcame the poison, overcame her, it showed that you are stronger than she ever will be. I’ve never seen that before. Nobody has ever been stronger than she is. I didn’t think anyone could stop her, ever, but you… You just might. I have long thought that I was only ever going to get one shot at bringing her down. I’ve just taken it.” Crimson pointed her finger towards the back of the embassy and said, “Bang.”

Jon looked into her exhausted eyes and nodded.

“I will stop her,” Jon said evenly, “Nobody fucks with my Republic, nobody. Hey, instead of turning tail and running how about actually standing up to that bitch? We could use you. You know more about her organization than anyone. While you are waiting to die why not take a few more shots at them?”

“You would actually trust me?” Crimson asked hopefully.

“Fuck no!” Jon laughed. “I’m envisioning a safe house with a nice heavy locking door and some nice Terrans who are very skilled at getting the truth out of people.”

Crimson just laughed… then cried… and then just nodded.

“Right,” Jon said, “Keep your ass right on that couch.” He picked up his communicator.

“Toby.”

“Sir.”

“I need the security van and an armed escort team, our people. Tell them to be ready to play.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Once the hallways had been cleared and secured and Crimson handcuffed and led away Jon walked to his office with all of the items Crimson left behind. He brewed himself a cup of coffee and paged through the contents of the data crystal that Crimson gave him.

This could work. God help us. This could actually work, he thought in horror then after a moment he smiled wickedly. All he had to do was fuck things up. He was good at fucking things up.

Speaking of fucking things up… Command decision time!

He picked up his communicator and dialed a number.

“Wha?… ” a very sleepy kalent voice answered.

“Having a good evening?” Jon asked.

“I… I...” Jaxona said really groggily.

“Well wake up, I’m about to ruin it. We need to meet. Now.”

“It had better be fucking important, cockbite.” she growled in a very odd yet strangely familiar tone of voice.

“What the fuck?!?!”

“Wha?… Sorry… still waking up… Sorry! Forgive me! I didn’t mean it! I was just...”

“No problem,” Jon said as a grin slowly started to spread across is face. “Are you awake, now?”

“Yeah! Sorry! What do you need? Sorry!” Jaxona exclaimed in a nervous squeaky voice.

“I need to meet with you, both of you, right fucking now!”