Have you ever had an energy projectile fly past your head? I have—in fact, that’s what happened just now. Of course, this isn’t like it’s my first time in a firefight. But sometimes, on a rare occasion, something like this kinda is like the first time. Sometimes, these rounds will fly by your head so close, so fast, it’s like a switch in your brain gets flipped, and all you see is what could have been. Nova! Back when I accepted this op, I knew what this could have been, but this op can’t be like that anymore. This whole op was rapidly undergoing fission, falling apart in spectacular nuclear decay. I didn’t even realize how close that projectile flew by until I felt a burning sensation on the side of my head, which was quickly followed by the smell of burnt hair—I hate the smell of burnt hair.

I rolled behind my cover and pressed my back hard against the large, heavy crates that protected me from the onslaught of weapons fire. Bolts of energy were flying past either side of our short towers of dense metal containers. Looking ahead, I saw the wall behind us peppered with blackened and charred marks from the multitude of energy bolts that missed their intended targets.

“These guys aim worse than a Graeae sister who’s lost her eye,” I yelled over to Doc.

Doc was a couple crate towers over, slapping a QuikBand across his shoulder.’ “It’s called suppressive fire, Mikel. The intent is not to aim, but to suppress the opponent.”

“Huh, is that what this is called?” I reached with my sidearm and blindly fired a couple energy rounds from around the corner of my tower. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, Captain O.”

Doc grunted as the QuickBand secured to his shoulder. “This extraction path is compromised. We need a new exit strategy.”

I fired a couple more blind rounds from the other side of my crate tower. “Stars aligned, Doc—if I didn’t love you, I’d probably shoot you. How about you talk to me about something I don’t already know.”

“Oi! If you two lovies are done screamin’ sweet nothins, I think you should have a listen to Ghostie on the comms. She found us a new out.” That was Anthony yelling above the cacophony of suppressive fire that surrounded us. He was a couple crates over to my other side. Anthony didn’t like his name, so he gave himself the name of Gunner because, well, it’s pretty obvious when you look at the arsenal he’s running with. The guy was a firearm savant and loved being our Armorer. I, however, do not call him Gunner, even though he refuses to answer by any other name.

I reached to tap the comms unit in my ear and was met with terrible stinging pain that jolted through my head. I recoiled for a moment but quickly recovered and felt the side of my head, gritting my teeth through the agony. That energy projectile that flew past my head left a long line of second and third-degree burns and had apparently taken out my comm piece and half my ear—no wonder I never heard Leah on the comms. I withdrew my fingers from the ooze that seeped through the burns lining the side of my head. My ear, what was left of it, felt disgusting.

“When were you gonna tell me I’m missing half my ear, Doc?”

“I thought it was an obvious improvement to your face,” He replied matter-of-factly. “I did not see any need to inflate your ego further.”

“You’re a bastard, Doc!”

A round hit one of the AG lifts that kept Doc’s tower of crates upright. A small explosion burst from under the containers, and metal slowly groaned as the stack of crates swayed from the imbalance. I quickly turned back to my Armorer, pointing to the scorched side of my head.

“My comms are out. What’s she saying?”

Anthony glanced up at Doc’s crate tower, then down to me. “Norm and her had to split, but he’s grand and movin the gem to a new loc.”

“It’s not a gem.”

“I only signed on for the gem!” Anthony adjusted his mini-cannon and fired a heavy slug from around his cover. “I never agreed to all this slag.”

Screams erupted with the explosion of Anthony’s heavy round. The lull in energy projectiles was filled with a heatwave from the slug’s explosion—the anger in my Armorer’s face matched the explosive heat washing over us.

“Gentlemen,” Having left the cover of his falling crates, Doc was now by my side, pulling me to keep stride with his forward movement. “It’s time to run.”

I glanced back to see another AG lift explode as Doc’s crates fell into the neighboring stack of crates. The AG lifts of that stack buckled and blew, creating a domino effect of crates falling toward my stack. Anthony fired another explosive slug, slung his mini-cannon onto his back, and ran with Doc. I was already in stride, muscle memory kicking in and tracking the doorway my Armorer was headed for.

The explosions and falling crates created the perfect diversion to escape the Bellatrix weapons fire. These warriors were part of the reason for the op going fissile; they were unplanned, unexpected, and had overwhelmed the hangar—the loc of our formerly-new extraction point. I was just grateful these Bellatrix were of a lower caste. Despite my being a Dog, we would already be dead if these warriors were a higher caste.

“Hold on!” I called out as the door closed behind us, cutting off any weapons fire aimed toward our escape. I turned and used my battle-forged blade to pry off the face of the control panel—this was the second time my sacred blade became a lockpick; I was not going to hear the end of this. The panel came off easily enough, and I quickly began to rewire the door’s locking mechanism. As I reworked the panel, a thought came to mind. “Doc, you said that was suppressive fire. Why would they suppress us? Why not just shoot to kill?”

My fingers danced across the now disassembled control panel as I found the wires needed to keep the door shut.

“Is the answer not obvious?” Despite my focus, I cringed from Doc’s attempt at humor.

I cursed as the wires connected with a small electric pop. Reflexively brushing my hands hard against the sides of my pants, I watched the thin trail of smoke line its way over the defunct door panel. The door began to grind and press against itself as the safety check was now disabled through an emergency airlock activation—it would take a while for them to get through that door. I turned to my Armorer and Doc.

“Yeah, I think the answer is obvious, Captain. We’ve got a high caste of Bellatrix warriors inbound, and they likely have a Seeker who will interrogate us for answers. Sound about right?”

Doc nodded, switching his sidearm to his non-firing hand to properly shake out the other.

“Dolos be damned!” I punched the wall. “I hate Bellatrix Seekers. Where’s Leah and Norman? We need to connect before extraction. Give me a time hack for convergence, and then tell me about this new extraction plan.”

I was already walking down the hall with my sidearm at the ready.

“Ghostie’s sayin’ Norm’s headin’ right toward us. Should see ‘im in a few turns. She’s also sayin’ she’ll meet us at extract.” Anthony guffawed. “Oh, Boss, you’re gonna love what wee Ghostie is cookin’ up.”

I was not going to love what Leah was cooking up. Anthony, however, would love whatever blazing supergiant was powering her new extraction plan. I shook my head. This op had already gone supernova, so it’s not like she could make it worse. We just needed to exit with that… that not-a-gem—whatever it was. I’ll stick with calling it an egg for now.

Doc pulled rear while Anthony donned his optics to guide us through the maze this carrier had become. I took point and followed Anthony’s guidance through the halls. The spacecraft we were moving through was a C-class carrier designed for galactic transport and sustainment. Massive in every sense of its conception, this carrier was designed to hold enough people and supplies to inhabit a small moon. However, these carriers were never designed to drop all their passengers onto a moon; rather, these spacecrafts were intended to be self-sustaining ecosystems that could cruise through space indefinitely. These carriers would inject small populations into planetary and moon communities that were waning in numbers, and they would take in large numbers of refugees unable to maintain long-term sustainment on a planet or moon. Though part of the spacecraft’s population was in constant flux, the other part lived their whole lives on the carrier, conducting maintenance, piloting, and performing other day-to-day jobs required of a massive ship. The other thing to note was the C classification, which indicated the giant spacecraft should have minimal armaments—enough to ward off small-time pirates and the like. C-class spacecrafts were not designed for combat; because of this, warriors from the Bellatrix Constellation did not operate on C-class anything. It made me feel like so much of this Dolos-touched op was a lie.

We approached an intersection in the hallway, and I motioned the clan to halt and take a knee. I heard something and waited to see if it would round the corner. We paused in silence for three breaths before hearing a low, gentle voice from around the corner.

“Anybody hear them dogs howling?”

“Nope, just smelling the burning neck wounds,” I responded to Norm’s challenge.

“Stars aligned, Boss. It’s good to hear your voice.”

That was the final confirmation that Norm hadn’t been compromised. I lowered my weapon and rounded the corner. True to word, Norman stood in the hallway with one hand on the large metal egg floating by his side. Norman was of the Herculis Constellation, and just like those of his constellation, he was a giant of a person. Even though the metal egg floated on its own AG lift, I was pretty confident Norman was the only one who could move with that thing on his back.

“The gem still good, mate?” Anthony poked at the egg with his carbine.

Norman shrugged. “The screen still has crazy lines and numbers on it, so I guess so. That’s more Doc’s thing to know, though, right?”

Doc was already at the egg’s screen, analyzing the numbers and jagged lines that scrolled across the readout. He did not respond immediately but moved to examine the small scanner he had affixed to the egg earlier—his optics on and scrolling the data.

“The specimen appears to be in good condition.” Doc continued to watch the data output on the screen and the scanner results on his optics. “But remember, we don’t really know what this is. As such, it is difficult for me to ascertain the true condition of the specimen while it remains in the incubator.”

That’s right, I forgot Doc had called that metal egg an incubator. When we first found the egg, we didn’t know what we were looking at. It was the oddest thing—and I’ve seen a lot of odd things. It was nearly as tall as me, and its base was wide as Norman—though it gradually tapered to my width at the top. The oblong hunk of metal was just floating on a pedestal in the middle of a dark room. Tubes covered the walls and ceiling, but none of them directly connected with the incubator. The giant metal thing just floated there, motionless, while a small green screen silently displayed jagged lines and numbers in its middle.

“There’s a toilette, ahead and right,” Anthony called out.

We moved quickly, but Anthony was slowing down and favoring one side despite our haste.

“Anthony, let Doc patch you up,” I commanded, slowing my pace to match his.

My Armorer grunted in defiance and pushed to move faster, shrugging hard to adjust the mini-cannon strapped over his shoulder.

“Mister Gunner, I can apply a QuikBand to your wound with minimal interruption once we reach the toilette. It will be quick and most beneficial for you. We can continue to the extraction point immediately after I am done.”

Anthony growled, “Fine.”

“Will it fit the egg?” Norman asked while pushing the egg behind us.

I quickly donned my optics and verified the safe area’s capacity. I informed Norm that it would be tight, but we would all be able to fit with the egg.

When we reached the toilette, which was just code for a pre-mapped safe area, I let Norman and the egg enter first. As the egg passed by me into the room, I looked at the small, green screen of lines and numbers and recalled Doc saying the screen provided information on vitals for a standard lifeform. I wonder, what makes a lifeform standard?

I ducked into the safe area after Doc and Anthony. The room was dark, but Doc had his optics on and the medbag off his back. As I guarded the doorway, I recognized it was when Doc had identified a ‘standard’ lifeform in the egg, that was when the whole plan funneled to a singularity before promptly imploding into this cosmic maw of a black hole we had become trapped in. So much had happened; I needed the moment to recall what we were doing here.

- - -

“The gem’s in the pill, Boss,” Anthony said, staring through his optics.

“What?” This ‘pill’ was not in the op briefing. The briefing was standard, nothing new. Some rogue star colony had stolen a star-wrought gem from one of the Constellations in the Intergalactic Federation. The Federation assumes any action like this is terrorism until proven otherwise—and I’ve never known them to prove otherwise. They had tracked the gem to this distant C-class carrier and issued us nav maps. The star map and carrier layout were outdated, but this was typical with these kinds of ops. After the briefing, we moved out, collected our gear, dusted off, and jumped—everything had gone perfectly. Boarding the spacecraft was smooth and undetected; no alarms had been triggered—we had gone through the whole ship without an interaction.

“Confirmed, Boss.” Leah was cloaked somewhere in the room. “Gunner would probably be best for cracking open this egg.”

“I think it’s a giant pill,” Anthony insisted.

“I like egg,” Norman weighed in.

“Two to one. If no one else weighs in, we’re calling it an egg.” I couldn’t tell if Leah was talking on the comms or was in the room.

I donned my optics and examined the large, oblong metal object. I circled around it and scanned the entire room. There was no doubt the gem was inside.

“Campe’s ass,” I muttered as I looked toward Anthony. “Can you open it quietly?”

“Whoa, whoa,” Doc turned from the gem container to the group and motioned everyone to slow down. I had forgotten he was there. “If we crack this thing open, whatever is inside might die.”

“Hold a Hades moment. Doc, you’re telling me there’s something alive in that thing?”

Anthony stepped in my line of sight, with his back toward Doc. “Boss, we’re here for the gem, nothin’ else. Let me pop it open, quick and quiet like. Then we can scram and go, no fuss.”

I looked over Anthony’s shoulder toward Doc. His face was impassive at best—this was characteristic of him. Doc rarely showed emotion and did not care to engage in any sort of dramatics. Anthony once said the only thing drier than the desert sands was Doc’s humor—I really couldn’t argue with that. Yet, as I looked at Doc in that moment, I saw beyond his impassive face and noticed how he stood. His back was to the egg, his arms were to his sides, his feet planted firmly to the floor, muscles tense under his clothes. He wasn’t motioning us to slow down; Doc was moving to protect—he was protecting the egg from us.

Doc’s gaze met mine, and though I hated the position he put me in, I understood.

“Leah, give me an ETA on Diane. She might need to adjust course.”

“Oh, no. Don’t do it, Boss.” Anthony quivered and tightened the grip on his carbine.

“Norm, help Doc secure the, uh… egg? Is that what we’re calling it? Doc, what in the five rivers is in there?”

“It appears there is an organic specimen inside that matches the criteria for a standard lifeform. The gem is with the specimen and appears to be sustaining it. I am working on understanding this, Mikel, but my capabilities are extremely limited here.”

“Lemme crack open that egg, and I’ll un-limit your capabilities, Doc.” Anthony was massaging a grenade at his hip as he turned to face Doc.

“Negative, Mister Gunner. I need to collect more data on the specimen and the incubator before I can determine an optimal method for removal.”

I stepped into my Armorer’s line of sight. “Anthony, I need you to plot an alternate extraction point. I don’t think we’ll be able to go back the way we came, not with this thing in tow.”

Anthony shifted the weight of his load-carrying vest and took silent inventory of the armaments strapped to his person—it was a blatant show of not hearing me.

“Nova, Anthony! Now is not the time. Plot an extraction path.”

“My name is Gunner, Boss.”

“Your name is going to be damned to Tartarus if you don’t get me a new extraction point now!”

Anthony grumbled his discontent, but he flipped on his optics and began to scroll through the carrier’s layout.

“Boss,” I still had no clue where Leah was in the room. I was beginning to wonder if she was even in the room. “Diane says she’ll have to do another orbit around the carrier if the extraction point changes. Means we’ll have to sit tight somewhere until she completes the second orbit.”

“Great.” It was anything but great. “Tell her to stay silent and unseen, we’ll reach out with coordinates where she can catch us on her next orbit. Let’s see if we can keep this op one step ahead of Dolos.”

“You believe in the Gods, Boss?” Norman asked, his large frame peeking around from behind the metal egg.

“No, Norm. Dogs don’t believe in the gods. We just like to curse them.”

Norman pondered my statement for a moment. “That doesn’t really make sense, Boss.”

I chuckled. It was actually something my old mentor used to say. I was raised and trained in the ways of my old clan, and it was through our star, the Dog Star, where we found guidance. Loyalty was paramount within the clan—gods be damned.

“Got something, Boss, but it’s slag-nasty.” Anthony and I rarely agreed on things that were good or what we liked. However, if it was bad, we’d probably be in agreement.

I flipped on my optics and viewed Anthony’s optimal path for our new extraction point. Anthony was right; this path was worse than nasty—it was slag-nasty. Remaining incognito would be impossible with this option, and we would be exposed in the hangar while we waited for Diane to pull us out.

“Nova! How is this an optimal path?”

“You’ve seen the size of that egg-pill, Boss. This ain’t something yer goin’ to just flush down an escape hatch.”

I shook my head, but the frustration remained. I scanned the path for choke points, hold points, and points where we could bide our time.

“You don’t think we could just stay here, Boss? You know, head out when the time is right. I know security will have a rotation comin’ through, but Ghostie could take care of ‘em before anyone noticed, and then—” Anthony whistled as he walked his fingers away in escape.

“There’s no cover in here. And if we get caught, escape from this room will be near impossible.” I sighed. “This room is a toilette. Speaking of—Leah, you still got eyes on the guards?”

“Still clear, Boss, but don’t tempt the Fates. The way won’t be clear much longer.”

“Good copy. Hey, where are you? I can’t tell if you’re in the room or out.”

“I’m with you, Boss.” Her voice was suddenly behind my shoulder, soft and comforting. I turned to look at her, but she wasn’t there. She laughed gently, and I followed her sound along an unseen trail.

Doc cleared his throat, snapping my attention back to the metal egg. He thumbed at a small red circle now affixed to the egg. “My scanner is attached to the incubator, Mikel. This metal is dense and difficult to scan through, so it will take time. However, it sounds like time is the one thing we have.”

The sands of his humor grated against my ears. “Don’t get too happy, Doc. I don’t think any citizens on this craft will appreciate our group of party crashers. Are we ready to move?”

Doc nodded. “Everything is in place.”

Norman rotated the egg so that its long axis was parallel to the floor. He extended his arm from behind the metal incubator with a thumbs up. “I got the egg, Boss.”

“Toilettes and eateries are marked, Boss.” Anthony spit into the corner of the room.

“Hold tight, Boss. Your exit hall has traffic.” Leah’s warning left the room quiet and tense.

The soft whirring of fans and humming of electric circuitry filled my ears, prompting me to flip my optics back on and review the route. I checked the toilettes and eateries—as I mentioned earlier, that’s not what they really were. These were spaces where we could find cover and hide. Eateries had multiple entry and exit points, difficult to defend but potentially easier to escape. Toilettes had one entry and exit point, which, in theory, is easier to defend, but if that entry/exit point became clogged with slag, then you’re going to end up in a state worse than the fiery feces of Cerberus. Anthony had come up with the codenames a while back, and they stuck.

“Anthony, did you map a backup route?”

Anthony growled in response.

“I’m not calling you Gunner, you gamma-blasted nut.”

“My name is Gunner. I won’t answer to that other name.”

“Then update the Federation registry with your preferred name. Until then, your name is Anthony.”

“They won’t let me change it.” Anthony glanced down at his shoes and kicked the floor.

“Wait, what?” I flipped off my optics and looked at him. It was too easy to file the paperwork for a name update; I had helped others through the process before. “What do you mean they won’t let you?”

Anthony looked at me, and I think that was the first time I saw a hint of sadness in him.

Leah’s voice crackled over the comms. “Hall’s empty, Boss. Time to move.”

Now was not the time for Anthony’s name—I returned my focus to the op. “Roger. Let’s roll!”

I motioned my clan to rally and pointed to our exit door. My Armorer took point, exiting first. His mini-cannon was slung across his back while he held his customized EK3 carbine at the ready. He had modified so much of that rifle I was pretty sure the only EK3 parts left on that weapon were the grips. It didn’t feel right to call it an EK3 anymore, but Anthony insisted that’s what it was.

I followed Anthony, my sidearm at the ready, and Norman exited with the egg after me. The giant egg’s AG lift made it easy for the Herculis to guide the incubator out of the room. As the incubator crossed the door’s threshold, our surroundings suddenly lit dark red, and the door slammed shut. Norman partly leaped, partly fell forward, narrowly escaping the door. Doc was still inside.

No alarms could be heard in the hall, but the door slowly flashed a dark red light on and off. I tapped my comms. “Doc, you in there? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Mikel, I am okay.” Doc’s voice breaking through the comm’s static brought a small measure of comfort. “It seems we have triggered some sort of alarm.”

I hit the door and laughed through my frustration. “Ever the observant one, aren’t you, Captain O?”

“We’ve got movement incoming, Boss.” Leah’s voice came through the comms, cool but firm.

“Of course we do.” I turned to the door’s control panel and began my attempt to disassemble it. “Leah, can you provide a distraction, something to slow them down?”

“Without raising more alarms, I assume?”

“Yes, Leah, without raising more alarms.” The control panel was sealed tight, with no apparent means of accessing its inner workings. “Doc, you see any way to open the door from your side?”

“There is a panel on this side, but it is locked. I am not sure how to override the lock. Mikel, the incubator might have a tracker that the scanner was unable to detect. We need to disable the tracker to improve our chance of successful extraction.”

“Let’s work on getting you out first.” I unsheathed my blade, unleashing a blue flash of light that contrasted with the red glow of the locked door. This was the first time my sacred blade became a lock pick. My blade is Sirian-forged, signifying my status as a battle-forged Dog. Most battle-forged keep their blades locked and safe within their clan homes because losing their blade would bring shame on them and their clan. Yet here I am, using my sacred weapon to pick a Phlegethon-dipped lock. I guess my mentor was not wrong when he called me a battle-forged fool of a Dog.

“Mikel, Leah’s diversions will be ineffective if they can see the security of the incubator has been compromised. I should not be the priority right now.”

I paused in my attempt to remove the door’s control panel. Red continued to flash, pulsing its contrasting light against the blue of my blade. Every glow of the alarm amplified the recognition that time was running out, that we were about to be trapped in this hall. I glanced back and saw Anthony had taken a knee, carbine ready to blast the first thing that entered this hallway. Norman had his large CAWe rifle ready to be fired at the hip; his other hand remained on the metal egg.

“Boss, we ain’t gonna last two decays if we stay here.” Anthony kept his eyes forward.

“Typhon’s cock! This op is going nova.” I flipped my blade to a reverse grip and stabbed down hard, piercing the center of the control panel.

Sparks flew as I twisted and worked the blade into the circuitry. I withdrew, rotated the blade ninety degrees, then stabbed again. More sparks, and now smoke, came from the control panel. I worked the blade back and forth, pushing down hard on the hilt.

“Boss, we gotta hurry!”

I ignored Anthony’s plea and continued to work my blade. Red, blue, and white flashes of light flew across my face as the control panel squealed in electric pain. Then, suddenly, the door opened, and the red lights were gone.

Doc stood on the other side, a slight air of surprise in his stance. “You opened the door.”

“Yes, I did.” I smiled confidently as I withdrew my blade from the control panel.

The door slammed shut, and the red lights returned.

My smile fell. “Oh, nova!”

“Hey, you! Stop right there!” That voice was not on the comms, nor did I recognize it. The next sound, which I did recognize, was an energy projectile fired from Anthony’s carbine—that silenced the unknown voice.

Doc’s voice came over the comm. “The door closed again, Mikel.”

“Not now, Captain O!” I slammed my blade back into the control panel and wrenched it to the side.

The door groaned as if resisting the blade’s demands to open. I wrenched my blade to the other side, and the door opened violently, breaking from the force before collapsing to a half-open state.

Doc peered around the half-open door to look at me.

“Don’t say slag about the door,” I warned. “Tell me about the tracker.”

Doc tapped the door with his sidearm, casually checking its stability before entering the hall. “The scanner has matched more criteria, confirming a standard organic lifeform is inside. The lifeform is in the late stages of development, so removing it from the incubator now will be akin to an early birth—relatively safe if we have life support capabilities on hand.”

“Great, we hatch the egg in your clinic after we get back to Gideon. You haven’t told me about the tracker.”

“The scanner has not been able to detect a tracker.”

“Okay, more good news.”

“No, Mikel, that is not good news. It means the tracker’s signature is most likely masked within the incubator. I doubt we will be capable of disabling it here.”

More gunfire from down the hall. A stray round hit the wall behind me, exploding in a small fire and extinguishing to a smoldering spot of black in almost the same instant. The gunfire was promptly silenced by Anthony’s EK3.

“We gotta move, Boss.” Anthony adjusted his positioning but remained on point. “Now!”

“By Hecatoncheires fifty heads! Doc, you gotta give me something.” I drew my sidearm and approached the egg’s side opposite from Norman.

“I believe we can mask the tracker through manipulation of the AG lift field. However, I will need Miss Ghost’s assistance for this procedure.”

I spoke into the comm unit. “Leah, I know you’re listening. Your assistance is requested.”

There was a pause before she responded. “Boss, please don’t ask me to do this.”

“Leah—”

“I’m in a great vantage point, Boss. I can provide all the support you need from here. The only reason you haven’t been overwhelmed yet is because of me. Please, Boss.”

“Miss Ghost,” Doc interrupted. “I believe you are capable of manipulating the lift without my assistance, and my presence may only prove a hindrance to your work. Might I suggest Mikel, Mister Gunner, and myself conduct the diversion tactics, thereby allowing you and Mister Norman time to find an eatery where you can work safely?”

“Doc,” her voice sounded tired over the comms. “You guys are terrible at diversion tactics. You’re going to make this whole thing go nova.”

“It’s already nova, Leah.” I sheathed my blade. “But you’re right. With us running diversion, the op probably go supernova. Still, we need to neutralize that tracker before boarding Gideon. Diane and the ship won’t have a chance of getting us out if this egg is pinging our loc.”

Another pause. I tapped Anthony on the shoulder before taking a knee beside him. I raised my sidearm, ready to fire at the next thing coming down the hall. “Leah?”

Leah’s voice came through the comms, “Norm, you’ve been following what needs to happen?”

“Ready and waiting to assist, Ghost.”

“Follow my directions, Norm. I’ll meet you at the eatery near your loc.” I heard the hesitation before she continued. “Boss?”

“Yeah, Leah?”

“I’m following some of the carrier’s comms and scans. I think—I think a Bellatrix warship just boarded.”

This time, I hesitated. If Bellatrix were here, then the op may have just gone beyond supernova. What’s worse than supernova? I was oddly at a loss for an explicative.

“You think, or you know?” No need to elevate my concern on a suspicion.

“I think, Boss. Working on getting confirmation.”

“Work on meeting up with Norm and jamming that tracker.” I looked at Doc and Anthony. “It’s time for us to do some nova’d diversion tactics on this carrier.”

- - -

Oh yeah, we nova’d the diversions on this carrier. We supernova’d nearly every twist and turn of the path that led us to our ‘optimal’ extraction point—the hangar. Once we got to the hangar, we got confirmation the Bellatrix warriors had indeed boarded the carrier—they had boarded in the same hangar we were trying to extract through. Now, we are running with a new, metastable extraction plan. I’ve got half an ear, Doc’s got a hole in his shoulder, and only Doc knows what’s wrong with Anthony—whatever it is, I’m glad Doc is patching him up.

The room was dark and cramped with all of us inside—it felt like we were in some oversized maintenance closet. Doc’s sidearm slipped from his grip and fell to the floor.

Anthony shushed the clattering gun as I quickly bent over to retrieve it. “You good?”

Doc opened and closed his hand a few times. “No, Mikel, I am not good. I just dropped my weapon.”

I eyed Doc sternly. Sometimes, his flat affect came across as callous, but I knew him better than that.

“The QuikBands can only do so much healing, Mikel,” Doc’s optics were on as he assessed Anthony in the dark and identified a large burnt wound in the Sagitarii’s side. “It’s not uncommon for energy projectiles to cause associated nerve damage. I will need to conduct a more thorough assessment of my wound in my clinic.”

Anthony grunted as the QuikBand was secured around the side of his torso. Doc slung the medbag onto his back, stood, and helped Anthony to stand.

“Well, you better make it to your clinic,” I said, handing Doc his sidearm.

Doc nodded, holding his weapon with both hands.

I checked my optics, grateful to be wearing it on the side of my head that hadn’t been scorched. We were close to Leah’s new extraction point; just another click or two would get us there. Once there, I would have to deal with the slag-nasty part of the extraction.

I stepped out of the toilette, looking to my left and right—I should have looked up, too. The Bellatrix warrior dropped from the ceiling, swinging a massive fission gauntlet directly into my head. I attempted to dodge the blow but wasn’t fast enough. Her armored fist clipped the side of my head and shattered my optics. I could feel the tiny shards of my optics cut and scrape across my face as my head cranked hard from the force of the blow. The rest of my body rotated in delayed response, desperately trying to catch up with the spin of my head and avoid the threat of my head being twisted right off my shoulders.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

My body and head spun a few rapid rotations and then crashed across the floor in a painfully crumpled heap. The Bellatrix had landed on her gauntlet, creating a large dent in the floor. I looked up, and everything was spinning, making it difficult to tell if gravity in the hall had been manipulated and if there were more than two or three of the large Bellatrix warriors looking at me from their fist-in-the-ground position.

All the Bellatrix warriors stood and began to approach while I rolled and tumbled, unable to get my feet to connect with the floor of the spinning hallway. The Bellatrix warriors reared back to deliver another blow when a couple of Normans ran in and smashed the warriors’ heads into the wall. The Bellatrices teetered back, and the Normans used their momentum to slam the warriors into the opposite wall. The ensuing fight was like watching cloned mini-titans battle for control of the hallway.

“You hand-whore of a hunter!” I cursed at the warriors as I grasped angrily at the wall, forcing myself upright and trying to make all the mini-titans combine back to their respective selves.

“Boss, down!”

I released the wall and fell to the ground as Anthony had demanded. Another large gauntlet smashed into the wall where my head had been. With a bellowing war cry, the foot of a second Bellatrix warrior raised and stomped down hard—I barely jerked away in time.

A high-pitched whine filled the air, and despite my lack of orientation, reflexes kicked in. I curled into a ball and covered my face. That high-pitched sound was a charging stun spider Anthony had tossed at the second Bellatrix. I didn’t see it land, but I heard some metallic clicks and the jolt of electricity, followed by a hard thud. Peeking out from the ball I had become, I saw the Bellatrix warrior lying prostrate on the ground with the electric spider wrapped around her face. It was a disturbing sight.

Looking the other way, I saw Norman using the first warrior’s fission gauntlet to pummel her own face. He hadn’t taken the armored glove off her hand; he just managed to wrench her arm around and activate the glove multiple times for her. It was good to see only one Norman fighting one warrior now.

I pushed myself to stand and stumbled a few steps, bracing myself against the wall for balance. Doc was by my side, already looking me over. He told me to hold still as he pulled out a halo and fitted it to my head.

“I should have looked up.” It felt like my speech was slurring slightly.

“Perhaps you should have,” Doc responded. “But you certainly should not have gotten hit by an armored power gauntlet.”

“Is that your professional opinion, Doc?”

“It is. Hold still.”

Doc activated the halo, and the hall started to spin again. He helped steady me as I pushed hard against the wall.

“The nystagmus and vertigo will resolve momentarily,” Doc assured me as he removed the halo. “I know those of the Canis Constellations are bred and raised for missions like this. However, you have an incredible tolerance for physical trauma.”

I smiled, not trusting my head’s stability for a proper nod. As my brain righted itself, I saw Anthony take point, and Norman secure the egg behind my Armorer.

“Mikel,” Doc guided me forward as he spoke. “Keep your hand on the incubator and stay with Norman. We are almost there.”

“I’m not drinking from Lethe today, Doc.” He smiled at that and placed my sidearm in my hand before taking position in the rear.

We moved quickly down the last couple of halls, cut through an eatery, and then entered another toilette—this was our final destination. By this point, my brain had figured out its proper place in my skull, and I was back to walking straight without assistance. I was immensely grateful Doc had a halo in his medbag that still worked.

This new toilette was a garden center, one of many used to sustain the carrier’s inhabitants. It was almost as dark as the last one, except for the UV lights lining rows of plants growing from dirt-filled troughs. The long troughs extended nearly the entire length of the room and were aligned parallel to each other and the respective walls. A variety of plants were growing at various stages in each row. It looked like most of the plants were a type of grain, but I noticed some herbs and vegetables in a few rows. The room was much more spacious than our last toilette. Yet, something was unnerving and conspicuous about the large, open greenhouse.

“Glad you made it, Boss.”

“I assume you’re in here, too, Leah?”

“Yes, Boss.” It was impressive how she could blend her voice with the comm, making it nearly impossible to know where she was speaking from. “With your comms out, I couldn’t talk with you unless I was in the room.”

Nova, maybe I had been slipped some Lethe. Of course, I could only hear her if she was in the room. “Er, right, good call.”

“Are you ready to board Gideon?” She continued, paying no mind to my lapse of memory.

“You tell me,” I impulsively looked around the room, trying to find her. “First, why is no one in this room? There are always gardeners working these rooms.”

“While you and the rest of the team were creating your ‘diversion,’ I created a secondary diversion by hacking the carrier’s monitors and creating a toxic contaminant leak. Protocol dictates immediate personnel evac of contaminated areas.”

“You are a master of diversions, Leah. Dolos would be proud. I assume the toxic leak was a fake?”

“For this room, Boss, yes.”

I thought of asking about the other rooms but decided against it. “So, how do you intend to pop the hull from here?”

“As you know, these C-class carriers are modular in nature. Therefore, if a section becomes overwhelmed with a contaminant, it can be ejected to prevent the contamination from spreading throughout the craft. The vacuum of space will then purge the contamination, and the carrier’s crew will retrieve the ejected module once it’s deemed purged and ready for re-introduction.”

“So, our extraction involves getting sucked into Nyx’s ass and hoping Diane and Gideon can pick us up before Erebus’ cock comes in after us?”

“That’s gross, Boss. Plus, Nyx does not technically have an ass—please, stick to your simple cursings. But yeah, that’s the gist of it. Rose and I will take an extra measure to ensure we get picked up by Diane and can board Gideon without too much issue.”

“Hypo-thermo.” I turned to the rest of my clan. “Everyone, check the integrity of your pressure suits and get your head bubbles ready. Leah, give us a time hack for modular ejection and purge.”

I attempted to don my optics but was met with a blinding pain in my eye that shot through the center of my brain. The shards in my head were a harsh reminder that my optics had been shattered by that gauntlet-wielding beast of a warrior. Damn, those Lethe waters!

“Doc, I got no eyes or ears.” Without optics, I had to rely on a visual-tactile inspection of my suit—this was suboptimal, and I would likely miss small holes, if there were any. With bubbles on and no comms, I would be significantly handicapped regarding clan communication.

Doc left the egg to examine me. His optics glowed in the low light as he scanned different parts of my body. “I will remove some of the debris in your face later, but nothing requires immediate attention. Your pressure suit is surprisingly intact.”

I nodded, relieved to hear I had one thing going for me. Suddenly, Doc slapped a couple fingerfulls of goop and smeared it across the side of my head. The slime oozed down the remaining half of my ear and threatened to slough its way inside.

“Echidna’s tits!” I jumped back and swatted at the slime in my ear, which only brought renewed pain from my burns and caused the ooze to slide farther into my ear. My face twisted in disgust as I tried to shake the goop out of my head, but the slime held onto the hairs in my ear as it wobbled inside—it was maddening. “Son of Hades! Doc, what was that for?”

“I had intended to apply a healing salve to your energy burns earlier, but our encounters have not left much time to apply a treatment—until now, that is.”

“Well, give me a warning next time, will you?”

Doc nodded. “I do not have a backup communications unit, Mikel. You must stay close to one of us to prevent getting lost upon exit from the module. The troughs are attached to the floor, so I recommend holding onto one of the troughs and staying near the incubator while the module is undergoing its purge protocol.”

“Will that thing survive the vacuum?” I motioned to the egg, which Norman was trying to secure in the far corner of the room.

“The egg is one of the strongest architectural structures found in nature, Mikel. The incubator itself will survive.” He paused to look at Norman and the egg, then turned back to me. “My concern is the life support fluids on board. I do not know how the extreme pressure and temperature differentials will affect the life support measures and the specimen inside. We will need to move quickly after the purge.”

“Chronos is a bastard. We get too much time when we don’t need it and not enough when we do.”

“Boss,” Leah interjected. “Bellatrix are moving here, fast.”

“Orion and his hand be damned!” I fixed my bubble’s collar around the neck of my pressure suit, grateful we had kept our pressure suits on underneath our ops garb. “Time hack until purge, Leah.”

“The purge is being delayed, Boss. The Bellatrix have assumed control and are personally inspecting the contaminated modules. They are overriding all emergency contamination protocols until they’ve visually verified the status of each section.”

“Then override their override, Leah! Where’s Gideon?”

“They’re less than a click away. Trust me, Boss. I will gain control of this module, and Gideon will be ready to receive us when we’re ejected.”

I faced my clan, seeing them make the final adjustments to their suits and collars. “Hide in the far corner of the garden and secure yourself to a trough. I want to avoid a fight so we don’t have to worry about any pressure suit compromise before the purge. Be ready; Leah will give us a countdown when it’s time.”

“We’ll have to engage if the Bellies come in, Boss,” Anthony stated.

“For the safety of your suits, I want to limit engagement as much as possible. Let me take care of any intruders.”

“You’ll take care of them like those last two warriors, right, Boss?” My Armorer sniggered.

“You try getting hit in the head with a fission gauntlet, then tell me how well you function, Anthony.”

It was a cheap shot, but it worked. I knew calling my Armorer by his name would shut him down for the moment. I moved to the edge of the doorway and pressed my back against the wall. Silence followed as we waited for Chronos to move time forward.

Something was approaching from down the hall, but it wasn’t footsteps. The sound was too narrow, too metallic. I surmised it wasn’t Bellatrix warriors coming down here themselves but something else just as bad.

My suspicions were confirmed as a metal spider approached the garden door’s threshold. It was similar to the stun spider Anthony had used, but this one was much larger and appeared to have some extra armaments attached. The Bellatrix spider remained motionless at the door, waiting. Then, I heard a small whir initiate; light pulsed from the top of the spider, and I guessed it was attempting to scan the room. With the spider just outside the door, I felt confident it would not be able to sense me; however, I did not know if the troughs could block its ability to scan my clan.

Suddenly, I felt a touch from Mnemosyne. I remembered my last encounter with the first Bellatrix warrior—I should have looked up. I glanced up and saw two more large, metallic spiders had crawled in by way of the ceiling, and one was looking directly at me.

“Nova!”

The spider lunged for my head, but I ducked and rolled, allowing it to collide with the wall. As I rolled, I unsheathed my blade and swung in a wide arc at the spider in the door’s threshold. My blade extended in length, cutting slightly into the floor before reaching the spider and slicing it in two. I rolled again, arcing up and then jabbing straight with my blade. One of the charging spiders fell in pieces around me, and the other twirled to the side, only losing two legs to the blade. A silenced, high-powered, armor-piercing round was fired from the far corner of the garden module, and the crippled spider flew from its spot, smashing into the nearby wall—a gaping hold was in its center, leaking robotic fluids.

“Thanks, Leah,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

“No problem, Boss,” Leah responded. “Diane says they’re in place. Prepare for module ejection.”

I looked down the hall and saw a small army of spiders crawling across the floor, walls, and ceiling. They were rapidly converging on our loc. I readied my blade as one leaped for me, but the door suddenly closed, causing it to crash against the outside. The door groaned tightly with the familiar sound of its airlock protocol being activated.

“Bubbles up!” Leah called out.

I sheathed my blade and ran to the back of the room, where Norman and the egg were hiding. I jumped across several troughs and tapped my collar—the hard polymer bubble quickly formed around my head. Artificial air began to fill the bubble surrounding my head, and all sounds outside my head space were immediately muted.

I felt, and almost heard, the thud of my boots as I continued to leap across the troughs, but then I felt a louder, deeper thud accompanied by something else. My next step did not connect with a dirt-filled trough—it did not connect with anything at all. Both of my feet were off the ground, and I suddenly found myself in a slow, weightless forward rotation. Gravity had been disabled, which meant the module was ejected from the carrier. I scrambled to grasp at something, anything that would bring me within reach of a trough, knowing what was coming next.

I managed to grasp one of the tall grain plants and quickly reached out to grab the trough it was planted in. My fingertips brushed the trough’s edge; it was just barely out of my reach. I began to climb down the plant, getting closer to the thing that would help keep me secure.

There was movement to my side; it was Norman. It looked like he was yelling and waving his arm; his other arm remained protectively around the egg. What was he saying?

Another sound was felt, but this one was violent and forceful—the module purge had initiated. Nyx and Erebus yanked me by my boots, their cosmic vacuum overwhelming everything that wasn’t secured within the ejected module. My grip on the plant held firm, but the plant’s roots did not.

The plant was torn from its dirt-laden bed, and the plant and I shot out of the module with the force of a fired energy projectile. I made a split-second maneuver and managed to shoot straight through the open doorway without colliding against the side or getting stuck in a dreaded death-roll. Dirt, plants, and other unsecured debris blasted out of the module’s exit like a large-bore shotgun. I sailed quickly through the emptiness of space with all the organic blast-shot, plant still in hand. I carefully drew my sidearm and fired a few rounds in the direction of my travel, hoping to slow the momentum that carried me off into the open cosmos that embodied Nyx and Erebus.

The space of Nyx’s womb was like an unfrozen, ever-present ice. Though the pressure suits provided the minimum necessities to survive out here for a short while, they did not provide any comfort against the environment. It was near impossible to ward off the chill of Erebus’ embrace.

I looked around and saw the module I had been ejected from was a considerable distance away. From here, I could also see a towline connecting Gideon to the ejected module, and my clan was using the line to climb aboard Gideon. That must have been the extra measure Leah and Rose had worked out.

I called to my clan out of reflex but knew that effort was futile without my comms. I held up my tall, bright green plant as a flag and realized space had leeched all color from the plant, leaving it wilted and dead. However, in the same instant of recognizing the plant was dead, I also realized it didn’t matter if they saw me right now. They couldn’t do anything for me until they had secured the egg and finished boarding Gideon.

Gideon and Diane—now, those two are an interesting couple within the clan dynamic. Watching my clan exit from the module while I float helplessly in space leaves me with nothing but time to become lost in my thoughts. I’m not sure which god to damn for this—Mnemosyne? Chronos? Nyx? They should all probably be damned for my being ejected into space. Anyway, Diane is a headstrong bull from the Taurus Constellation who is an incredible pilot and won’t let anyone say otherwise. She knows her stuff and has saved our lives on multiple occasions. Gideon is Diane’s… partner, for lack of a better word. Gideon is the co-pilot, and the navigator, and the ship itself. I do not know their entire history, but Gideon and Diane have been flying together for a long time. I believe Gideon is the ship’s original AI, which somehow evolved to have a sentient personality. Sentient AIs are frowned upon by the Intergalactic Federation, but there are no active rules against them either, so Diane’s and Gideon’s relationship is in a sort of don’t ask, don’t tell status. No one from the Federation will mess with Gideon so long as no one tells them about Gideon. This also means I don’t have to worry about Diane fighting anyone because she will fight to the end for Gideon. A robotic interface was installed in the ship’s cockpit to help distract inspectors and regulators from the AI itself, but that robot is really just an aesthetic—you can interact with Gideon from anywhere on the ship.

Ah! That is definitely Norman I’m seeing now, climbing up the towline, but something doesn’t look right. He’s paused in the middle of the line and is reaching back down. Here comes Doc, working on guiding the egg out of the module, and there’s Leah behind the egg. They are clearly struggling with that egg, trying to keep it from floating out to space—like me. That’s odd; how did they keep the egg from flying out into space like me?

Fog is starting to cloud the inside of my bubble, hindering my sight—this is not good. My fingers are getting stiff and numb from the cold, and my toes are starting to feel like small, wiggling blocks of ice, too. Looking around revealed more of the enormous pseudo-C-class carrier. There were so many details I had never taken note of before, but details were difficult to focus on when hypothermia was steadily setting in. It was infuriating seeing the massive spacecraft so close but still so far beyond my reach. Lights flickered across the carrier’s massive hull, and a few hangar bays opened in the distance. Wait, hangar bays open to send and receive smaller ships. Nova! They’re sending fighters after my clan—Bellatrix fighters.

Nyx’s icy tits! My bubble was clouding up everywhere I looked. It was getting tough to breathe, but I couldn’t tell if that was due to the encroaching claustrophobia from having a clouded bubble that encased my head, the decreased air from the suit’s scrubbers, or because my pressure suit was just a bunch of slag. With my optics gone, I could not track how much air was left in the suit and bubble. How long had I been floating within Nyx and Erebus? If you have to ask a question like that, the answer is always: too long.

My breathing echoed hard across the confines of my clouded bubble and reverberated deep in my ears. The white fog had closed in thick all around, pressing down on my vision; only Erebus’ cold embrace remained to slowly ebb my life away. I closed my eyes. I need to keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing…

Suddenly, I was yanked from my slow descent into the void and pulled at an incredible speed through the icy sea of space. Stiffly, I looked around but could only see the white fog encompassing my bubble. A moment later, gravity returned, and I fell to the floor. Next, something thick and warm washed over me, bringing that terrible sensation of pins and needles throughout my appendages as my limbs began to reawaken from their cold sleep. Warm air flushed through my head bubble, and the fog started to clear. I readied myself for a fight but hoped that would not be necessary.

As the Dog star shone, my hope was fulfilled when Doc’s head popped over me. He was saying something, but the bubble continued to mute everything outside of it. I attempted to remove the bubble from my head, but several hands quickly restrained my movements while Doc shook his head at me. Watching his mouth, I am pretty sure he was saying, “No moving.”

Looking around my surroundings, I was elated to recognize my new environment as Gideon’s interior. We actually made it—we got the egg out of that supernova’d mess! However, our op was not done yet; Gideon and Diane still had to get us to a warp portal. I looked down toward my feet and saw I was covered in a shock blanket, with Leah sitting by my side, keeping an eye on me. She smiled warmly, and I returned a smile toward her. It was good to finally see her again. I always found it strange how someone as lovely as her always wanted to stay hidden and cloaked, always avoiding direct interactions with people.

Gideon rocked and swayed hard, forcing Leah to throw herself on top of me to prevent me from being bucked off the cot I was in. She raised up but was looking over my head, not at me—she was listening to someone. Next thing, she was looking at me and saying something; I couldn’t tell what it was. Then she held up five fingers, four fingers, three, two, one.

My pressure suit deflated, and the bubble was removed with a loud and painful pop. It wasn’t the bubble that popped—it was my ears. All the sounds of everything in the ship came rushing at my eardrums simultaneously. It was painful, overwhelming, and I felt like I would puke. Doc quickly fixed the halo around my head and applied some sticky patches to my neck. It was difficult to differentiate noises from other noises, so I focused hard on Doc’s mouth as he spoke.

“We need you up and… Mikel…” Something, something, something… “There’s a problem with the incubator…” Something, something—the rest doesn’t matter; I need to fix the problem.

I stood shakily—Leah rose with me, providing support. My voice was raspy as I spoke. “Take me to the egg.”

Doc nodded and headed for the rear of the ship. I heard a blast from outside the ship, and Gideon rocked hard from the impact, nearly taking my balance and forcing me to lean heavily on Leah, who had to brace herself against the wall.

I looked at Leah, “We’re under attack?”

“No need to yell!” She responded by yelling into my face. “And yes, Bellatrix fighters are trying to neutralize Gideon. Gunner is on the guns, while Diane and Gideon are working their magic. Rose is in the back with Norman, making sure Gideon remains in one piece.”

Rose was from the Librae constellation, like Leah. However, Rose had a different outlook on the balance of life. Where Leah was quiet and dealt with life’s balances through hacking carrier networks and firing long-distance sniper rounds, Rose was very much in your face to ensure you understood how things were supposed to work. She was an incredible mechanic and probably knew Gideon better than Diane in some ways. However, my Mechanic held nothing back and brought everything up front. Diane said Rose was a nuclear firecracker—explosive beyond reckoning for such a tiny package. Not to say she was unreliably volatile, but Rose would let you know what needed to happen to make things right in the world—and all too often, she was frustratingly correct.

When I reached the back of the ship, I found Rose with her body halfway in a crevice that left her legs dangling out by Norman’s head. She was calling out for different tools and he was handing them to her as requested while taking back the ones she was done with. Rose was the only clan member who cursed as much as me.

“Mikel,” Doc’s voice brought my attention to the issue at hand. “There was a problem with the incubator’s AG lift when the garden module was ejected from the carrier. I believe it was some sort of safety mechanism. Essentially, the lift’s polarity reversed, and the incubator became stuck to the module’s floor.”

“I wondered why it hadn’t jettisoned out of the module with me.”

“Yes. It was actually quite fortuitous in some respect. Mister Norman only needed to hold onto the incubator to prevent himself from being ejected during the purge. However, once the pressure equalized in the module, we needed to move the incubator. The only way that could happen was by disabling the AG lift.”

“Oh, nova!”

“That is correct, Mikel. By disabling the AG lift, we could no longer mask the tracker. It seemed the Bellatrix could identify the incubator’s location relatively quickly once the AG lift was disabled.”

“Can’t we turn the lift back on and mask the tracker?”

“Miss Leah and I attempted that, but it has been faulty and intermittently reverses its polarity. I suspect the AG lift was damaged when Mister Gunner disabled it.”

“Wait, Anthony disabled it?”

“That is correct, Mikel.”

“What in the ever-infernal belly of Tartarus were you thinking, letting Anthony disable that? The only way he disables anything is by shooting it or blowing it up!”

Leah guided me to lean against the wall and left the two of us to help Norman and Rose.

“It was not a choice I made, Mikel; it was an action Mister Gunner took. He recognized the need for expediency and acted accordingly.”

I attempted to rub my temples, but the halo and my burns prevented me from doing so comfortably. “Do I still need this thing wrapped around my head, Doc?”

“Yes, Mikel. It is a preventive measure against potential embolic emergencies associated with rapid re-pressurization therapies.”

I looked at Norm, Rose, and Leah. Rose was kicking and twisting, still halfway in the crevice, cursing at I don’t know what. Norm was trying to support Rose’s feet without getting kicked while Leah had taken over tool retrieval. I looked back to Doc, “If there was a god for big, complicated words, it would probably be you, Doc. So, damn you, Doc.”

Another blast rocked Gideon, and I heard Rose scream out a long line of curses from her awkward perch.

“Don’t damn me yet, Mikel,” Doc chided. “The op is not completed.”

Rose kicked her way out of the crevice and swatted away Norm’s attempts to help her down to the floor. She saw me and immediately stomped in my direction, fire raging in her eyes. “You flippant Dog of a Boss! What happened down there? Did you finally catch your tail and find a way to lose your head up your own ass?”

“Hold on, Rose!” I warned. “Back up a Hades moment before you start flinging waste in my direction.”

“I’m flinging waste?” She really had an uncanny knack for making people regret they ever responded to her. “I’m flinging waste? Am I the one who’s brought Orion handjobs to punch holes in my Gideon? Am I the one who’s nearly killed my crew for this op? Am I the one who’s tearing up the floors while moving a giant metal pill across my ship?”

“I said I’m sorry about the floor, Rose. I didn’t know the AG would flip while I pushed it,” Norman interrupted. “And we decided it’s not a pill.”

“I will decide to call it what I decide to call it,” She snapped as she turned and marched back to Norman. “Now, don’t get me started again on you, Norman. You still owe me…”

She had already started again on Norman. As bad as I felt for the Herculis taking a second round of heat from the small Librae, I was grateful her rage was no longer directed at me. I turned to Doc. “We need to find a portal and jump. We do that, and we’re safe. What’s keeping us from making the jump?”

“The specimen in the incubator and the tracker.”

“Okay, where’s the egg?”

Doc looked down to where the incubator should have been. Instead of the large metal egg, a deep groove was carved into the floor that winded through the maintenance section and turned down a corridor. His eyes followed the trail and then looked at me.

“It would appear Mister Norman has already moved the incubator to my clinic as I requested.” He looked back at Rose, who was still cursing and chastising Norman. Leah had disappeared. “It is unfortunate he caught the ire of Miss Rose.”

Doc nodded to me, then followed the carved path to his clinic. I hastily kept pace, not wanting my Mechanic to catch us in our escape.

The door to Doc’s clinic had been slightly bent out of place, and some of the furniture had been pushed outside, but the egg was inside. The egg took up nearly all the space in the clinic, and I had to wonder how Norman managed to fit in here with the egg, let alone figure out how to maneuver around the large hunk of metal so he could exit the clinic. I looked to Doc to ask how Norman managed this feat, but he was focused solely on the egg’s data outputs.

“The scans have provided me enough information to open the incubator safely,” Doc stated matter-of-factly. “The specimen’s vitals dropped after the AG lift was disabled. Exposure to extreme differences in temperature and pressure further destabilized the specimen. I need to remove the specimen from the incubator to stabilize it for the jump. However, once the specimen is removed, we can jettison the incubator and its attached tracker.”

“Nice plan, Doc. Jet the egg in space and let those Bellatrix follow it instead of us. What’s keeping you from cracking open the egg?”

“We are not equipped with extra jump pods, Mikel.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. I could feel my face fall into a mixture of emotions, none of them good, as the rest of my body fell backward into one of the clinic’s seats. I looked to Doc for something more, but his face was impassive. “You’re always stating the obvious, Captain. Always… Damn you, Doc.”

Doc stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder while speaking gently, “As the leader of your clan, you need to decide who will be in a jump pod, Mikel. I will stabilize the specimen in the incubator for as long as possible. However, if you decide to save the specimen, you must determine which one of us will not survive the jump.”

My head swam with the impossibility that faced me, and I could not think of anything to say. Doc kept his hand on my shoulder. “I will support any decision you make, Mikel, but the decision cannot be prolonged. How did you put it? ‘Chronos is a bastard?’”

“Yes, he is, Doc. Yes, he is.”

Doc left me with my thoughts and tended to the incubator. I sat there, hearing the quiet chirps and beeps from Doc’s medical machines, unsure how to react. This was my clan. Battle-forged Dogs create their own clans, but most are assembled from within the Canis Constellations. It was purported that clans should only be assemebled from within the Canis Constellations because no one outside Canis understood loyalty like a Dog. I was labeled a mutt because I assembled my clan outside the Canis constellations. Damn, the archons! This op was the one where I would prove their beliefs to be bigoted and false. I chose each person here, and everyone on this op was my clan. Loyalty to my clan was paramount—gods be damned.

Yet, how was this loyalty? This was a choice I had to make, but it defied clan loyalty. How could I assign one of my own to be sacrificed, and for what? No. There’s no choice to be made. The egg has to go—Fates be damned. The archons would likely revoke my blade for failing this op—star-wrought gems are that serious. But my clan is worth more than any of those Dolos-touched archons, more than my blade, and more than any gem. I stood, firm in the decision I made. I would not choose my clan over the op.

“Doc, quit working on the egg. I’ve decided—”

“Mikel!” Rose had caught up to me and rushed toward Doc’s clinic with a wave of rage sweeping through the halls around her. She only calls out my name when she’s on the verge of going nuclear or is past that point. Gods be damned! I do not need this right now. “Mikel! You are not getting away from me that easily. I demand answers as to why you’re blasting holes in my ship!”

“Rose!” There was no good way to respond to her. Most of the time, it seemed like the best thing to do was let her vent out her anger, but that was harder to do when there was an audience. With any of the crew present, I had to be the clan leader. “First, Rose, you need to calm yourself down—”

“Calm myself down?” Yeah, I regretted saying those words even as they came out of my mouth. “Calm myself down! Diane and Gunner are literally tearing Gideon apart while trying to save our lives from certain death, and you say my priority is to calm myself down?”

“Look, Rose, I don’t have time—”

“Oh! You don’t have time?” Lyssa be damned! I am ready to go nuclear on this Librae. “I spend every waking moment cleaning and maintaining Gideon just so you guys can come in here and tear apart my ship inside and out? Quit being a dimwitted three-headed guard dog and listen to—”

Alarms started to sound in Doc’s clinic, interrupting our argument. Although the alarms in Doc’s clinic were one of the worst sounds to hear, I was grateful they prevented the quarrel from escalating. I turned all my attention to the clinic. “Talk to me, Doc.”

“The specimen’s vitals bottomed out. Incubator life support measures are failing.” Doc looked up from his screen and turned off his optics to look directly at me. “If the specimen is going to survive, I need to open the incubator now.”

Nova! Don’t do this to me, Doc. Just let it go…

“What are you waiting for, Doc?” Rose exclaimed. “Do what you do and save the thing.”

Doc’s gaze was unwavering; he waited for me to give the order.

Norman and Leah rushed to the clinic and were standing at the door now.

“We heard the alarm,” Leah said, a little breathless. “Who’s hurt?”

Her question was cut with the realized answer: the egg was hurt—or, more correctly, the thing inside the egg. Leah looked to Doc, then to me, then to Doc.

“What are you waiting for?” Leah turned her gaze back to me.

Everyone was now looking at me, but Doc was the only person I was looking at. The clinic alarms continued to blare; different tones could be heard as various monitor readings fell into the red.

“Boss,” it was Anthony speaking through the ship’s comms. “I heard the clinic alarms. Who’s hurt? Need me to leave the guns?”

I could feel my heart steadily beating in my ears. I swallowed hard. Phanes be damned. No, not just Phanes; every supernova’d god in this Tartarus-forsaken galaxy be damned! “Do what you need to do, Doc. Save the thing inside the egg.”

Doc nodded, and both he and Chronos got to work. Doc’s optics were back on, and he furiously poured over a variety of monitors and interfaces.

“Boss,” it was Anthony over the ship’s comms again. “What’s goin’ on? I just blew away a Bellatrix fighter. The rest are regroupin’—I can head down there now.”

I tapped the nearby comms panel and replied. “Doc’s got it under control, Anthony. The crew’s good. But, yeah, I think I need you down here for a moment.”

“On my way, Boss.”

I tapped the comms panel again. “Diane, can Gideon give you a minute? You should come down here, too.”

“We’ve located the warp portal and are approaching the star’s orbit, Boss. Gideon can take it from here—heading to the clinic now.”

“Thanks, Diane.” I turned away from the comms but quickly turned back to add, “And thank you, Gideon.”

“I got you, Boss!” Gideon’s artificially-tinted voice replied.

All eyes were on Doc now as he prepped his gurney, readied his bags of medical fluids, and continued to make adjustments on different interfaces according to the readings of his monitors. Rose was in there now, too, helping with the prep work and various odd things he directed her toward.

“This process is akin to an oviparous birthing,” Doc spoke as he worked. “Once you have all the necessities and contingencies in place, the natural order of the hatching should take over.”

Diane and Gunner arrived to stand at the clinic door and watch this unusual birthing process. I was glad to have my clan together for this moment and hated to be the one who would destroy it.

“Alright, get ready.” I think Doc was speaking to himself as much as everyone else. He tapped a few more controls on the egg’s interface.

A thin green line of light appeared on the long-axis side of the egg, horizontal to the floor, and a rush of cool steam flowed out from the line. Doc waited a moment, tapped the egg’s interface, then hurried to the line. He pulled hard, slightly widening the green-lit gap before his bad arm lost grip, and he fell forward. Rose rushed to help as Doc repositioned and again tried to pull up the top half of the egg.

“Mister Norman, a little help, please,” Doc strained.

Norman shouldered into the clinic and helped Doc open the egg entirely. The heavy metal top half slid and fell back, crashing into the wall and smashing some of Doc’s instruments. Those close to the egg took a step back while the rest of us stepped forward.

I have been lucky enough to witness the birthing process for my species a few times before now, and every time I have seen it, the process is associated with a particular sort of awe. It’s both incredible and terrifying. Still, when Doc spoke of a specimen, I figured it was some feral animal or alien growing inside the egg, something that probably belonged in a mad scientist’s biohazard waste receptacle. With the egg hatched, I realized I was wrong.

Inside the green-lit bottom half of the egg lay a child, sleeping and curled in a fetal position. Embedded in the child’s chest was the star-wrought gem, slowly pulsing with green light.

“I guess it was an egg,” Anthony said from the doorway. “Why isn’t that a baby?”

Though the child was small and somewhat emaciated, Anthony was right; this did not look like a newborn. I shrugged, not knowing the answer to his question or anything I was witnessing.

Doc quickly and carefully lifted the child from the egg and placed the child on a gurney. He inserted IV lines, attached monitors, and placed scanners on different parts of the child’s body. Doc then put a shock blanket over the child and ensured everything was properly secured. Doc looked over the child once more and nodded to himself before looking up at the audience crowding his clinic. His eyes again rested on me.

“We are in the star’s orbit and on approach to the warp portal,” Gideon’s voice came over the comms. “Everyone should begin making preparations for their jump pods.”

The gravity of our situation began to settle upon each member of my clan—it was a force far heavier than Gideon’s artificial gravity. All eyes were back on me.

I cleared my throat and took a step back to see everyone. “As all of you know, we have a limited number of jump pods. I will not place any of your lives above my own—”

“Hold on, Boss,” Anthony interrupted. “Why not just put the kid back in the egg and call it grand? That egg should land a jump, right?”

“That’s not how it works, Anthony.”

“What’d ya mean? That egg is tough.”

“No, Anthony, it won’t work. Besides, the egg still has a tracker hidden on it—”

“Mikel,” Doc raised his hand. “Perhaps I can help?”

I shrugged and motioned for Doc to continue.

“Mister Gunner, are you familiar with alpha tunneling?”

Anthony shook his head.

“It’s also called quantum tunneling.”

“Oh yeah, that’s the part between the beginnin’ and end of the jump—I’ve heard of it.”

“Correct. Alpha tunneling is based on a nuclear process known as alpha decay. Nuclear decay is a natural process in which a radionuclide releases excess energy. Although alpha decay is a natural process, like gamma and beta decay, some exceptions make it stand out. First, it is only observed with heavy or large atoms—”

“Doc,” Anthony cautioned. “I’m not ready for a science lesson. Can we, uh, skip to the point?”

I had to agree. I was starting to regret letting Doc have the lead on this.

Doc sighed, taking a moment to reorganize his thoughts. “Alpha particles are extremely large compared to beta particles and gamma rays. Yet, all these decay products must travel the same path when exiting their nucleus. Theoretically, this path is too small for an alpha particle to travel through.”

“So, we’re like…” Anthony moved his hands as if he were tossing his thoughts about. “A big ship tryin’ to squeeze through a small warp portal. Still don’t know where you’re going with this, Doc.”

“Yes and no, Mister Gunner. The warp portals are based on alpha tunneling mechanics. We are like the alpha particles, too large to conceivably fit through the jump tunnel. But, alpha particles have a concomitant wave property. These large particles can escape the atom by matching the wave properties of a quantum tunnel. With the assistance of a nearby star and a warp portal, Gideon’s portal engines work similarly—they help the ship’s energy signature match the quantum resonance required for tunneling, or jumping, to the other side. We can only survive the jump by donning our jumpsuits and being inside our jump pods. The suits and pods make it possible for our bodies to match the resonance of the quantum tunnel.”

“Hey, crew,” Gideon came over the comms. “I hate to interrupt, but we’re closing on the warp portal. Everyone needs to get to their pods now.”

“The child won’t survive the jump outside of a pod,” Doc stated, returning his focus to me. “No one can survive a jump without a suit and a pod.”

I nodded and returned to addressing my clan. “I will not place the op, or my life, over any of yours. Therefore, I—”

“No, you won’t!” Rose interrupted and grabbed the gurney. “Doc, come on. We’re placing the child in my pod. I’m the shortest, so my suit will be the best fit.”

“What in the five rivers do you think you’re doing, Rose?” I demanded as she maneuvered the gurney through the clinic’s bent door.

She turned on me, anger smoldering hot in her eyes. “That’s a child, Mikel. We are not leaving a child to die, and you are not getting out of this so easily. Sacrificing yourself? Ha!”

“Now hold on—”

“No, you hold on, Mikel! You think you can skate out of your leadership duties by sacrificing yourself? You think the greater good is leaving us alone to live with the decisions you made? Not a Hades chance. You are going to live, Boss, because you are our leader, and you are the one who needs to answer for what’s happened on this op.”

I was speechless, dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say?

Rose didn’t wait for my response. “Come on, Doc. We need to move.”

Doc helped Rose quickly roll the gurney out of the clinic. He paused, looking at me before moving further. I looked back, the weight of this situation pressing down around me, but I nodded. He nodded in reply, and they headed for Rose’s jump pod. Everyone else was still standing, looking at me, waiting for me to lead.

“Diane, help Gideon make the final adjustments for warp portal entry. If you can, slow the entry to buy everyone a little extra time, then get in your pod.”

“Aye, aye, Boss.”

“Gunner, check the status of those Bellatrix fighters. Ensure they’re not maneuvering to knock us off course or do anything else crazy.”

“On it.”

I did not know where Leah had disappeared to, which meant Norman and I were the only two left standing. “Norman, help me put this egg back together and shove it out the loading dock.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Norman moved to lift the top half of the egg. “But Rose won’t be too happy with us dragging the egg across Gideon’s floors again.”

I sighed. “Yeah, guess I’ll have to deal with that later.”

We lifted the top half of the egg and placed it back on the bottom half. I then smashed everything on the interface until the egg sealed itself back up. Norman and I then rolled the egg out of the clinic and dragged it down the corridor when the AG lift acted out again. We left the egg in the loading dock, secured the airlock, and opened the dock. The egg was quickly ejected, disappearing into Nyx’s and Erebus’ embrace—damn those two.

“What in Hades’ torment are you doing!” Diane yelled over the comms.

“We had to drop off the egg,” I replied through the nearest comms panel.

“Damn your dogged rashness, Boss. Close the blasted dock, or you’ll get us sucked into the star’s gravity well.”

Norman had already closed the dock as I responded, “Sorry about that, Diane. It won’t happen again. We’ll see you after the jump.”

“Zeus willing,” Diane signed off. I knew once the final adjustments were plugged in, Gideon would fly the rest of the way while Diane secured herself in her pod.

I turned to Norman. “Thank you, Norm. Get in your pod. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Norman pounded his chest in salute, then headed for his jump pod. I rushed to Rose’s pod.

When I arrived, the child was already secured and ready for the jump. Rose and Leah were arguing over the pod while Doc stood patiently off to the side.

“Boss,” Leah quickly approached when she saw me. “Tell Rose to get in my pod. Gideon always has issues after a jump, and we’ll need her to make sure Gideon remains okay.”

“No, Leah,” Rose interjected. “You’re not sacrificing yourself for me. I’m not getting in your pod.”

“Boss, please. Tell her to take my pod.”

I looked at both of them, then looked past them to Doc. Doc looked back at me, his face unreadable.

“Is the kid good?” I asked, motioning to Rose’s pod. A dull green glow emanated from the small window on top.

“The child is secure and stable. The jump should not be a problem.”

“Then why are you still here? Why aren’t you in your pod?”

“I am waiting for you, Mikel.”

He was waiting for me to make a choice. I hesitated, unsure of my response.

“I will support your decision, Mikel,” Doc replied. “No matter your choice, I will support you.”

Anguish began to creep onto my face, and I closed my eyes tight, trying to squeeze it away. Doc approached me, held my head, and then removed the halo I had forgotten I was wearing.

“The halo is not conducive for a jump pod,” Doc said. “I think you will be okay without it.”

I rubbed the side of my head that was not burned. “Thank you, Doc.”

Doc nodded in response.

I stood upright and made a choice. “Get to your pod, Doc. The kid will need you after the jump.”

Doc nodded again, held my shoulder for a brief moment, then quickly walked to his jump pod.

“Rose, get in Leah’s pod.”

“What?” Rose began to protest.

“We don’t have time to argue. Leah’s right. Her suit is close enough to fit you, and we’ll need you on the other side. Go now, please.”

Rose pressed her lips together in a firm, angry line. She looked to me, then to Leah, then back to me. “After the jump, you owe me a new floor, Boss.”

“Yes, Rose, I’ll take care of the floor.”

She turned to Leah and embraced her hard. She attempted to speak but didn’t trust her voice and embraced Leah again. Leah returned the embrace.

“Boss,” It was Anthony over the comms. “We got a problem.”

Leah whispered an encouragement to Rose, and then Rose hurried away to Leah’s pod.

I found a comm’s panel and responded to Anthony. “Talk to me.”

“Most of the Bellatrix fighters went after the egg you let loose. However, there’s one still on our tail. I think she’s goin’ to try knockin’ us into the gravity well.”

“Is she close enough to intercept our course?” Once locked into a warp portal trajectory, there was no maneuverability—the ship had to maintain course.

“Not yet, Boss, but she’s movin’ fast.”

I paused and looked at Leah, then turned back to the comms. “Anthony, are you in the guns?”

Anthony did not respond.

“Anthony! You shouldn’t be in the guns right now. You need to be in your pod.”

“Boss, I don’t have time to get to it.”

“Anthony—”

“Boss. I overheard part of your conversation. Let me help you with this one. Tell Leah to take my pod.”

I turned to Leah, who was looking at me. Pain stabbed deep in my chest and worked its way up to my throat. I clenched my jaw, fighting against the lump forming in my throat.

I nodded to Leah, “Go.”

Leah nodded in response, a tear falling from her eye, and then she was gone.

I stood alone in that moment, finding my feet heavier than ever.

“Boss,” Anthony spoke through the comms. “Are you in your pod yet?”

I tapped the comms panel, “No, not yet.”

“You need to get there, Boss. You’re cuttin’ it too close.”

“Yeah… I’m on my way.”

“Hey, Boss.”

“Yeah?”

“Just so you know, this is how I always wanted to go—guns blazin’. Thanks, for lettin’ me go.”

I punched the wall, fighting back the burning anger welling in my eyes.

“One more thing, Boss.”

“Yeah.”

“After the jump, when you get us home, could you help me get my name changed?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “Sure thing, Gunner.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Thanks, Boss.”

I signed off and ran for my pod. As I scrambled into my suit, I could hear the entry portal’s quantum storm fighting with the swirling of the star’s gravity. I was cutting this too close.

I jumped in the pod, and it sealed over me, creating a muted silence similar to when I was stranded in space. I was grateful for the unclouded window over me. A countdown flashed in the window.

- 5 -

I don’t know what happens during a jump. No one consciously knows. It’s like entering a state of hypersleep—you enter the warp portal, then wake up on the other side.

- 4 -

Nova! Anthony—Gunner—will not be on the other side of this jump. He’s gone… And me, I can’t get out; I can’t escape. Is this what a clan leader is? Was the op worth this price?

- 3 -

I’m trapped in this pod with the ghosts of what could have been haunting my decisions. Did I lead my clan as a battle-forged Dog, or was I just a battle-scarred follower? Could I have saved Gunner? How was this loyalty to my clan? How was this right?

- 2 -

Loyalty to my clan was paramount, but now…

- 1 -

Gods forgive me.

THE END