The Long Goodbye

Matt exhaled, glad to be clear of the checkpoint. It was strange to be the only traffic in a
metropolis. From within the barred prisoner compartment behind him, Raddick visibly relaxed.

“One question,” Kyndi said. “If these Blackstar goons are so tough, what are they doing on
babysitting duty? Shouldn’t they be out mixing it up on the front lines?”

From behind them, Raddick chuckled. It was a low, gutteral sound.
“They ​were​,” he said. “Until they met the sons of the Great Serpent. Many ships and warriors
were lost on both sides, and their surviving captains pursued us across the void instead of holding their
positions. The Skulls did not trust them with warfighting after that, but dared not offend them by
cancelling their contract. So they were reassigned…”
Kyndi nodded. “To babysitting duty. Makes sense.”
“No, it does not. They are wild dogs. And one does not entrust a wild dog to guard your home
while you are elsewhere. The people of this city hate and fear Blackstar, and Black Omega by extension.
It was foolish of them to pull their Enforcers off-world.”
As if to underscore his point, the Authority car passed an alley, where a row of shabbily-dressed
citizens was lined up against a wall. A small pile of firearms was on the street, the citizens held at
gunpoint by a group of patrolling mercs. A few of the prisoners looked to be little older than children.
“Resistance,” Raddick said. “People who under competent leadership would be standing at Black
Omega’s side to protect their homes. Instead they rage beneath the heel, sensing the impotence of their
overlord’s authority. It’s the same in many places.”
The scene passed, and Lehman shook his head. “So Black Omega is fightin’ their own people as
well as y’all. What a cluster.”
He looked out the window, the streets still bare except for the occasional passing Authority
hovercar.
And what a bitch fit Marra must be throwin’ over all this. The woman’s used to gettin’ her way- I
wonder how a little bit of chaos is sittin’ with her?
From behind them, Raddick grinned. “Of course, we have had our hand in the unrest that is
causing the Skulls so much grief. Nothing of theirs is safe, not even in their core systems. They cannot
protect themselves or their people, and they know it.”
Lehman checked the hovercar’s navigation grid. The city stretched on for miles, dozens of
interlocking streets on all sides of them. He sighed and shook his head.
“Reckon you’re gonna have to give us directions,” he said. “I ain’t in the mood to go knockin’
door-to-door. Or driving manually. It’s too conspicuous.”
Raddick shrugged. “I do not have an address. But I know the way.”
Matt gripped the controls, his face setting. “Manual steering it is.”

“This is it?”

The trio was standing in front of a large, dilapidated apartment building on the outskirts of the
city. It was near one of the industrial quarters, and the air was foul with pollution. Old and broken-down
hovercars lined the streets, their owners either unable or prohibited from using them. In the alley was a
row of hovercycles, heavily modified but anyone’s guess as to if they ran. As with everywhere else, the
streets were barren of foot traffic. Blackstar had set up several checkpoints on prominent intersections, but
the trio of rescuers had been able to bypass them via residential streets and alleys.

Raddick looked up and nodded. “This is it. She’s here. But we use the back entrance.”
“And then?”
“Then we take the car back to the starport, get her into your ship, and leave.”
Kyndi wrinkled her nose. “It’s so simple.”
A faint noise could be heard in the background, the whine of a high-powered turbine engine.
Approaching in the distance was a Blackstar armored vehicle, a hovertank meant to carry a squad of
soldiers. Matt looked up and scowled at the sight of it.
“Better put that cap on, darlin’. Looks like we’re in for company.”
The hovertank drew nearer, the fiery black sun visible on its side. Lehman flipped the visor down
and took position behind Raddick, who was still in handcuffs. Kyndi fixed her officer cap over head,
donning her own trademark eyeshields. Her mouth remained tight as she watched the vehicle draw nearer
and nearer.
With a cloud of dust the hovertank came to a halt, settling into position and deploying thick tires
to rest upon. The driver killed its engines, the turbines taking a full minute to fully wind down. As they
were doing so the rear hatch opened, a heavily-armed trio emerging.
The Blackstar mercs were barely consistent in their gear, with only their attitudes and unsmiling
faces indicating any sense of commonality. The lead one, a massive dark-skinned man with a bionic eye,
took a step forward. A thick cigar dangled from his lips.
“Thought you all pulled out.”
Kyndi took a step forward, her body at ease compared to the tense postured of the Blackstar
mercs before her. She gestured to the prisoner behind her.
“We did. And then this prisoner came through with some intel.”
The merc looked at Raddick, and then at the two Enforcers before him. He took a puff from his
cigar and then gestured to the building with it.
“In all the time I’ve been working with you limp-dicks, I’ve never seen you do anything with less
than a dozen of your prettyboy enforcers to back you up. Damn resistance is laying out homemade mines,
blowing our rigs to hell. Can’t use the treads or else we risk triggering one. Can’t use the hover without
being heard a mile away.”
The man took another puff, and then turned his attention to the trio before him. “And here ​you
are, the two of you with one of those savages, alone in the mean streets of New Accra. ”
Matt gripped his carbine, his heart pounding. ​Oh, hell…
Kyndi smiled, the trio of mercs reflecting in her shields.
“And in all the time ​I’ve​ worked with y​ ou,​ I’ve never seen a man want to ruin things for his
superiors as badly as you. Some of us have reports to file, you know. Do I need your names for the
record?”
The man took a step back, though his face remained hard.

“No, ma’am,” he said slowly. “It’s just not standard protocol is all. And his kind are dangerous.
We’ve lost a lot of good ships and men to them.”

Sympathy spread over Kyndi’s face.
“We ​all​ have, soldier. Which is why you need to go back to your jobs, so that we can do ours.”
The merc’s eyes narrowed. “As you wish. Ain’t no skin off my ass if this animal kills you both.”
Kyndi’s nodded, her smile returning.
“Spoken like a true man who’s in it to get paid.”
Unsatisfied, the man waved his comrades back into the tank. He turned to leave, looking one last
time at the woman.
“I mean it, though. One wrong move and you put a slug through his brain. It’s what I​ ​ would do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for your, uh... assistance.”
The merc signalled the driver, and the tank’s engines roared to life. Kyndi stepped forward,
watching the trio climb back into the armored vehicle. The turbines intensified, kicking up a new dust
cloud and lifting from the broken pavement. Kyndi and the pair of men behind her shielded their eyes
from the wind and dust, the tank noisily turning and heading away from them. For a moment, the three
watched the vehicle speed away, a duct cloud obscuring the sight of it.
When it rounded a corner, the trio visibly relaxed. Kyndi exhaled, the first bead of sweat running
down her face.
“Hopefully that’s that, huh?”
Raddick’s face hardened. “The sooner we depart from this place, the better. Come.”
Ignoring the other two, the man marched around to the rear of the building. The other two
shrugged and followed him, hoping that the Authority vehicle would deter the curious from following.
The alley was dark, the building on either side of it obscuring the dim sunlight even further.
Raddick held out his hands, his face expectant is Kyndi unlocked them. He rubbed his wrists as they fell
away.
“It is fortunate that those mercs departed when they did.”
Matt’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
The tattooed man knocked on the door, an irregular rhythm that was anything but random. With
the grating sound of metal rubbing against metal, the door slid open. Inside were several figures, with rags
obscuring their features and crude welder’s goggles covering their eyes. All were armed, and two were
holding heavy plasma weaponry, designed to burn through tank armor. Both groups regarded each other
in awkward silence. Raddick turned to his compatriots.
“Yeah.”

“This is some getup y’all got rigged up.”

The interior of the safehouse looked less like a domicile and more like militant hacker camp. All
around them, portable holoscreens and displays tracked foot and air traffic, with several roughly-garbed
men and women tending to them. It was on the top floor, several flats joined as one with the walls crudely
knocked out. The figure who led the trio turned, lifting its goggles and unwrapping the cloth from its face.

Beneath it was a woman, with filthy blonde hair and fire in her eyes. She looked at Matt and
Kyndi with distrust, but brightened when she turned to Raddick.

“All are in the coils,” she said.
The man nodded with a slight bow.
“All in the coils,” he repeated.
The woman turned to the other two newcomers, the other ragged figures relieving them of their
weapons and conducting a brisk patdown. Another safehouse denizen scanned them both, a man and
woman’s form appearing in a holographic screen before them. A scanning bar went down the length of
their bodies before a single chime sounded from the scanning tool.
“They’re clean,” she said.
Tentatively satisfied, the woman pursed her lips.
“So this is the pilot?”
Raddick nodded.
“This is him. Him and his… partner. The ones that Ranja told you about.”
A smirk lifted one side of the woman’s lips.
“And how is your warrior mate?”
Pride flashed in Raddick’s eyes. “Blessed by the Great Serpent for the third time.”
The women’s face tightened with a knowing glance before turning to the others.
“My name is Ailsa. The one you seek is inside.”
Matt nodded. ​At least we’re in the right place.
Kyndi looked around. “How long have you been holed up here?”
Ailsa gestured around herself. The windows were shut, with solid coverings on them ensuring
that no one could see inside the flat.
“Since the fighting began. This is the command center of the citiwide resistance. From here we
disrupt the Skulls’ hold on this place- or at least make them regret it.”
Matt shook his head. “There can’t be more than a dozen folks hidin’ out in here. How can you-”
The woman cut him off, shedding her rags to reveal a pair of toned, serpented arms. Red and
yellow snakes coiled around her limbs, their tongues ending in her palms.
“We don’t, for the most part. The Omegas’ hired lapdogs do a fine job of providing a steady
stream of recruits. Truly the Great Serpent moves our enemies to do our work for us.”
Turning to Raddick, she lifted her chin.
“But it cannot do a​ ll ​the work. What of the delivery?”
The man scowled. “Complicated by the lockdown. But it’s all there, in my ship.”
Kyndi’s eyes narrowed. “​What​ delivery?”
Raddick flexed his arms. “What is that old saying among you bubbledwellers? ‘Kill two owls
with one stone’?”
Lehman rolled his eyes. “Always heard it as ‘birds’, m’self.”
The man shrugged. “Why accomplish one mission on a trip when you can accomplish two? My
ship is packed to the brim with weapons, food, and medical supplies.”

Kyndi scowled. “In those ‘empty’ crates, right? And you were going to tell us this ​when?”
“When the time was right.”
The woman balled her wrists, her purple hair falling to the sides of her face as she trembled.
Finally she spoke, the task of keeping her voice reasonable a difficult one.
“Listen, pal- let’s get one thing straight. When it comes to smuggling, ​I​ know more than y​ ou.​ No
ifs, ands, or buts. I just ​do,​ okay? And if you’d have let me in on your little side job, I could have snuck
that gear in a dozen ways from Sunday.”
She exhaled, her mouth hard. An accusing finger jabbed against the man’s chest.
“But you didn’t, and so those guns are sitting in your ship instead of in the hands of those who
need them. You’ll trust us to move some pampered royal brat, but not a load of guns. We’re on y​ our​ side,
sent by that old guy to help y​ ou. ​Unbelievable.”
By now, the others had unwrapped themselves from their rags, eyes on the exchange. It was
unlike an outsider to challenge one of Raddick’s standing, but as before he didn’t become upset. The man
sat on a dingy couch, stretching his great legs and finally relaxing in safety. He held out his arms in the
same gesture as before.
“Who am I to trust? And you’re a fool if you think that old Albrecht is thinking of the clan’s
welfare by sending y​ ou​.”
Matt crossed his arms. “What’s his game, then?”
Raddick glanced around himself and decided that he was among friends.
“It’s no secret that the old man is more open to outsiders than other Elders. This makes him a
pariah within the Inner Circle, who are-”
His hand wobbled. “Not the most welcoming to strangers. But this fleet you heard about- it was
all Teilhard’s idea, and he won’t allow it to launch until it’s got that granddaughter of his onboard. The
one who can deliver her safely can extract favors with ease.”
Matt and Kyndi looked at each other.
“What ​kind​ of favors?”
Raddick’s eyes grew cunning. “We’re short a Black Dragon after Sanctuary Prime blew. And if I
know Albrecht...”
Ailsa’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean that he’d-”
The man nodded. “I mean exactly that. She’s there now, arms healing and in that tomb instead of
a ship where she belongs. Ranja practically worships her, and her role in bringing the traitor to justice
brought her to the attention of many. And for the honor of the Shedding to happen so conveniently after
Teilhard announced his emergency plan…”
Raddick let the thought hang in the air for several long seconds before holding up his hands.
“Of course, she’s Albrecht’s finest warrior and a shoe-in for the position anyway. But it would
also be the first Black Dragon that the old man has ever coughed up, and a vindication of the chance he
took on her. Then there’s her history with that she-wolf leading the Skulls. But what do I​ ​ know?”
Kyndi shook her head.
“Enough to see that even in times of war your clan’s leaders play at politics. Maybe your people
won’t h​ ave such a hard time adjusting to Bubble life. It’s the same there, too.”
For his part, Matt was silent. A disturbed look hardened his face.
“Well, ain’t no one’s going anywhere if we just sit around yappin’. Where this kid?”
Ailsa rose, worry in her eyes.

“She is here, but-”
Matt shook his head. “But what?”
“But she doesn’t wish to leave with anyone except her grandfather.”
The hunter held up his hands, looking at his partners.
“And here I thought that this was supposed to be a rescue mission.”
Ailsa shook her head.
“She wants to leave, but she doesn’t know any of you. It’s hard to blame a child for that.”
Kyndi crossed her arms. “Can’t always play the white knight, Matty.”
One of the technicians look at her displays, screwed up her face, and then looked again. Ailsa
walked over, learning over her.
“What’s the matter?”
The woman’s jaw dropped as the signal cleared, revealing a row of armored vehicles like the one
that they’d seen.
“They… they were jamming us. We have to evac- n​ ow!”
Kyndi’s jaw dropped. In a rush, both her and Matt rushed to a window, gently moving aside a
cover. Sure enough, Blackstar mercs were unloading from the vehicles.
Cursing, Matt stepped back. The room was a sudden rush of activity, equipment being packed up
and files being destroyed. Men and women were re-wrapping themselves and preparing their weapons.
The hunter turned to Kyndi and jerked his thumb towards the approaching column.
“Reckon that little girl better make up her mind before those goons make it up f​ or​ her!”

CHAPTER SIX

Matthew Victor Lehman scowled.
With a pair of battered field binoculars he could see the perimeter of Blackstar mercs that
surrounded the safehouse. They crouched behind armored vehicles, with mobile energy fields covering
whatever heavy plate didn’t. In the air a Federal Dropship circled ominously. Even with heavy weapons,
the scrappy Gold Crew inhabitants wouldn’t stand a chance.
The hunter lowered the binoculares. “All this talk about the high ground, and I don’t feel a lick
safer now that I’ve got it.”
Kyndi looked at her feet, and then to Ailsa.
“Surely you have a contingency plan for something like this. A secret exit- something!”
The woman shook her head. “Look around yourself- pipes held together with rust, and paint older
than I am. A secret passageway could bring the whole thing down, even it could be constructed without
anyone noticing!”
Kyndi nodded, understanding. “And it’s no fortress, either.”
“Exactly. We’re that rarest of Gold Crew specimens. The kind that hide with pride.”
An amplified voice rang through the city block. It was a woman’s, throaty and domineering.
“This is Blackstar. We know you’re hiding Snakes in there. The first one out lives. All the rest get
a one way ticket to meet that Great Serpent of yours!”
Kyndi looked down at her pilfered uniform. “Guess that last patrol didn’t buy the disguise, huh?”
Lehman shook his head. “Reckon they didn’t.”
Raddick was silent, his face hard. Outside, columns of troops were lining up, one holding a
powered battering ram. It wouldn’t be long before the forced their way into the building. His voice
dropped.
“How long can you hold them? Get their attention, make them fight you?”
Ailsa looked his way. “In a straight-up fight? Five minutes. Less, if that Dropship opens up.”
The serpent-armed man strode to the window, pointing.
“The starport is that way, and the streets are clear. We’re here for only one reason- to extract the
Elder’s granddaughter. As for your people-”
He drew himself up, looking each man and woman in the eye. “It would seem that the Great
Serpent has one final use for your lives.”
Slowly, Ailsa nodded, as did the others. Faces hardened and computer systems were switched off.
Without a word, each Snake stripped down to trousers and vests, arms bared for their serpentine deity to
witness.
Kyndi stepped forward.
“There were some hovercycles in the alley. Do they work?”

Ailsa pointed with her thumb behind her. “The keys are on the wall. Are you thinking-”
The smuggler nodded. “Of our best chance to get this tyke out of here? Yeah. Yeah I am.”
From outside, the woman repeating Blackstar’s demands could be now be seen. She was slim,
with a bionic arm and punky red hair. Even from a distance her eyes were cruel. Matt’s eyes squinted.
That woman… I’ve seen her before....
“She’s ready.”
Lehman turned, and there in the midst of the room was a young girl, not older than seven or eight.
She had brilliant golden hair and intelligent eyes, but said nothing. Like the rest of the safehouse’s
inhabitants, she was clad in a simple tunic and trousers.
“So this is her, I reckon?”
Raddick nodded. “This is her. And she rides with me.”
Kyndi pursed her lips, and turned back to her companion.
“You ever ridden a souped-up hoverbike before?”
Matt exhaled. “Not since I was a teenage idiot.”
The purple-haired smuggled grabbed the keys from the wall, tossing one to him.
“Time to feel young again, Matty.”

Anastasia Reed hadn’t smiled in a week.
On the streets outside the apartment building, the mercenary took a long drag of rush-laced
onionhead and spat. She was a foul-mooded woman to begin with, made more so by the fact that an
Omega officer had been spotted snooping around in ​her​ territory with a prisoner and single enforcer at her
side. She’d at first dismissed the news of their arrival, but her suspicions were triggered by each
checkpoint they crossed- and then confirmed when the Authority car was taking back streets and alleys,
not detecting the spotter drone tailing them from above.
So when the imposter Omegas led a patrol straight to a Snake safehouse, it fell upon h​ er​ to rectify
the problem.
“Still no response.”
Anna turned to her side, irritation in her eyes. Her orders were to take prisoners if possible and
extract whatever intelligence she could from them, but those orders came from prettyboy Omegas in their
prettyboy uniforms.
And the only Omega uniforms around here are worn by imposters. Imposters who are ignoring
me. That simplifies shit right up, doesn’t it?
The woman grabbed an uplink from a trooper’s backpack, contacting the Dropship circling
overhead.
“Air support, this is field command. I’m done playing games. Level the damn building and-”

She ​heard​ it before she saw it. A grey puff, growing longer from her peripherals, followed by
several more. Before her mind consciously registered the threat, her instincts kicked in.

Anna cursed and dove behind the wall of vehicles, finding cover just as the volley of rockets
slammed home. A deafening explosion filled her hearing with a low ring, but there wasn’t time for that.
All around her, small arms fire erupted from the building, a thousand ripples spreading across the
protective energy shield.

Already several mercs were dead and dying, with a few of the hovertanks smoking from gashes in
their armor. A thick beam from the upper level reached out, melting one of their engines and causing it to
drift into the vehicle next to it.

Anna keyed her general comms. “What are you waiting for, your mommies to change your
diapers? R​ eturn fire!”

In unison, the surviving mercs raised their weapons and sprayed the upper levels. So too did the
hovertanks bring their turrets to bear, locking onto windows with armed figured behind them. With loud,
hot discharges, they annihilated entire sections of the building that sheltered those who dared challenge
Blackstar.

Above the racket and out of sight, the woman heard the sound of a high-powered engines start,
followed by several others. She couldn’t see what was going on until it was too late, when she and several
others had to again dive for cover as ragged figures on hovercycles blew past the smoking barricade line.
On one of them was smaller, nestled protectively against a man with fierce serpent tattoos on his arms.
They were headed straight into the city center, towards-

“The starport!”
Anna grabbed the nearest trooper by the collar. “Get the skimmers here n​ ow!​ Forget the
safehouse- they’re trying to protect someone. And if a single one of those Snakes gets away, every man
under me is getting paid in lashes!”

The city street streaked by Kyndi, her hair blowing in the wind. It had been a long time since
she’d​ ridden a hoverbike too, but figured that such news wouldn’t do anyone any good. Doubtless they
would have company waiting for them at the spaceport- but that was a problem that could be solved when
they got there.

One thing at a time, Kyndi Jane. Worry about not becoming a smear on the streets.
Even with the whine of the cycle’s engine and the wind rushing in her ears, she could ​still​ hear
the low rumble of the Blackstar Dropship ahead of them. She squinted her eyes, and could see it
deploying hardpoints.
Oh, no….

An array of terrible, blinding light shot forth from the ship’s weapons, shooting over their heads
and into the building that they’d been in not five minutes ago. For a moment, a cold feeling gripped her
belly.

All those people…
Matt’s voice crackled over the comms. “Oh h​ ell,​ darlin’. They’re breakin’ out the big guns!”
“I ​know!”
The singular blessing of their situation was that the city was in lockdown and its streets cleared.
Kyndi pushed her hovercycle as hard as it would go, knowing that the others were doing the same. The
white lines on the street were a continuous blur, and the hovercycle’s control panel was lit up with speed
warnings. The smuggler ignored them and twisted the throttle even more.
A low, ominous noise could be heard from behind. It wasn’t the Dropship and its massive
engines, but something new. Kyndi risked a glance over her shoulder- and gasped.
Gaining on them were three massive hovertanks, armed to the teeth and engines redlining.
Flanking them were Authority-spec hovercycles, each with a Blackstar merc. Kyndi grit her teeth
together.
Looks like we’ve got an old-fashioned chase on our hands.
Laser beams streaked ahead of her, their shots going wild but cause for worry regardless. She
didn’t get a good look at how many Gold Crew made it out of the safehouse before the Dropship leveled
it, but wasn’t optimistic.
She heard a new whine of supercharged engines, and saw in her peripherals the figures of Matt
and Raddick. The man signalled for them to turn, and the trio narrowly escaped to an exit ramp. A few
more Gold Crew followed.
From behind them, the lead skimmer tried and failed to make the turn, but the tank was just too
ungainly, colliding into the concrete barrier and whirling over the side of the elevated road. Even with the
engines correcting as much as they could, the vehicle landed hard upon the ground, skidding to a halt on
its side. A twisted stabilizer meant that it was out of the chase.
The two other skimmers made the exit, the streets now narrower with more obstacles. It was now
a matter of cutthroat skill, something that both groups had in abundance. Kyndi heard Ailsa’s voice ring
out, her every word empowered by faith.
“Johannson, Gregor- now! Now is your time!”
In unison, two of the Gold Crew’s bikers twisted their rides around, careening sideways as they
readied themselves. Strapped to their chests were rows of explosives, rigged to detonate when their
sensors detected an impact. It was only too easy to hit the brakes, slip beneath the speeding skimmers, and
say a final prayer to the Great Serpent as their moments came.
Kyndi’s teeth rattled from the twin explosions behind her. Over the comms was a ragged exhale,
Ailsa suppressing feelings of grief.
Well, if tackling a hovertank with a bandolier full of boomjuice doesn’t get your ass into snakey
heaven, I don’t know what would.

Anna Reid screamed and cursed, swerving just in time to pass between the two exploding
skimmers. Her day had turned into liquid shit before her very eyes, men and equipment under her
command vaporizing into nothing.

And to think this had to happen to me…
After a career of dispassionately fulfilling violent contracts, the snake-armed men and women of
the Njikas Gold Crew were one of the few opponents that Anna had ever come to truly ​hate​. After her
wing’s first bloody battle with their frequently inferior ships, she’d learned to watch the narcotics and get
a good night’s sleep when deployed against them. Their struggles had only become more dire from there.
Though there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Black Omega would eventually prevail, she knew
that victory wouldn’t come cheaply. The clans of Pegasi fought like men possessed, and none harder than
the Gold Crew. Blackstar had bled while fulfilling its contract with the Omegas, their nerves and numbers
reduced to the breaking point. Anna had been elsewhere when she heard the news of the firm’s disgrace,
several wings of ships defying their orders to pursue seemingly fleeing Snakes. It had been a trap of
course, and the few ships that survived the encounter were damaged almost to the point of no repair. Deep
space ops became all but impossible.
Thus did Anastasia Reid find herself in command of a company of ground-pounders. The Black
Omega leadership had been furious with the foolishness of the normally rock-solid Blackstar, but knew
better than to throw away a long and successful business relationship based on a single disaster. The firm
was taken off of the front lines and assigned the more mundane- and less lucrative- task of garrisoning a
city. Humiliation mixed with ill temper, and the common citizens suffered under their new overlords’
yoke.
But Anna wasn’t a woman given to civic-minded pursuits. For her and those like her, there were
only two ways of dealing with a civilian: ignoring them or punishing them. Concepts like due process and
civil rights were unknown to a woman of her disposition. Revenge against those who had wronged her
was not.
The modified hovercycles ahead were fast, but not fast enough to get away. Anna gunned her
engines, hearing their whine as she closed the distance. The nearest snake was no hovercyclist- he was
focused on keeping up, not fighting. Allowing herself a slight smile, Anna drew her pistol, took careful
aim…
The first shot landed squarely on the hovercycle’s stabilizer, causing it to drift. The man looked
behind himself, his eyes filled with panic. The second shot blew it off completely, the cycle spinning
wildly out of control. Anna had a third shot lined up, into the man’s center mass- but held fire when the
hovercycle flipped forward and slammed into the ground, man and machine disintegrating as one.
Her actions couldn’t have stayed a secret, and didn’t. The other Snake slammed on his breaks,
narrowly missing Anna before gunning his hovercycle to catch up. He did, ramming her from behind and
jarring her steering. The woman cursed, bringing her cycle alongside his.
The mercenary ducked, narrowly dodging the man’s long, cruel-looking blade. With a swift kick
to the side, she knocked his hovercycle away from hers. The serpents of the man’s arms writhed and
moved over his muscle, his eyes filled with hatred for the woman.
Anna’s eyes narrowed. ​So we understand each other.

The merc veered recklessly toward the Snake, ducking low as her hovercycle slamed hard into
his. The man swung with his blade, but the woman was too close for him to find the correct angle. At
impossible speeds, he twirled the blade in his hand for a single downward stroke.

Do it.
The Snake raised his arms high as Ana’s bionic one shot out, seizing his limb with a
bone-crushing grip. His face contorted in pain, but she wasn’t finished. Their bikes were pushed against
the other, their paths set. With her other hand she swung around, pressing the nose of her pistol against
man’s elbow. With a trio of shots it was severed from his arms, blood splattering against Anna as the man
screamed and lost control. Anna didn’t see but h​ eard t​ he sound of metal grinding against pavement
behind her.
With an air of contempt, the mercenary tossed the severed limb aside, assuming full control of her
hovercycle once again. A warm feeling had begun to take root in her belly, a feeling that she felt only
when taking lives. There were only four more souls ahead of her, the city’s skyline looming large.
Anna had plans for each of them.

Like the others, Kyndi heard the screams of the Gold Crew clansmen as they died. Quick glances
over her shoulder confirmed what she already suspected: that the same cherry-haired bitch with a bionic
arm was picking them off one-by-one.

Raddick’s voice sounded in her comm unit.
“Split up and draw them off! I’ll take the little one to the starport. Meet me there!”
Matt and Kyndi nodded, each hoping that they wouldn’t get lost in the expansive metropolis or
encounter a dead end. At the speeds they were going, one wrong turn could cost them their lives, yet
speed was the only thing keeping them one step ahead of their pursuers.
For her part, Ailsa had watched as every man and woman with whom she’d served the Great
Serpent die in a matter of minutes. Her heart beat with grief and vengeance. Reaching to her controls, she
keyed a private comms channel.
“Marcus,” she said. She knew him from a long time ago, when they’d been younger and
unblooded. There had even been a time when she had dreamed of being warrior-mated to a man like him-
but what good was a warrior mate who couldn’t bear offspring for the clan?
“Ranja.”
The woman closed her eyes briefly, despite the danger.
“Listen to me carefully. The little one is more important than either of us, and the Omega’s
puppet is skilled indeed. Get her to your ship. And give your third blessing a kiss from me. All are in the
coils.”
Raddick blinked, his mind processing what was about to happen. A warm feeling of pride grew
within him. It was common knowledge that Ailsa was barren, a curse from the Great Serpent that had shut
the door to love and children alike. It would be an honor to tell the tale of her noble end.
“All are in the coils, Ailsa. And perhaps in the next life it will be ​you ​who swells with blessings.”

The woman stripped away her helmet, her eyes blazing with resolve.
“Get out of here, Marcus.”

Anna bore down on the remaining interlopers, and to her surprise saw them go in different
directions at a road split. She signalled and pointed, sending her Blackstar subordinates after them. Only
one Snake was still on the same long thoroughfare, buildings zooming by the pair in a barely-noticed blur.

The merc’s final victim was a woman, with dirty blonde hair whipping in the wind. She raised her
pistol and squeezed the trigger. A dividing wall saved her quarry, rapidly passing posts making shooting a
dicey proposition.

The wall passed, and the woman reached to her side and extended a shock baton, pointing it
straight at Anna.

The warmth inside her spread. ​Oh, you are a bold one, aren’t you?
One touch from the shock baton would send Anna into convulsions, and she knew it. And if she
survived the crash…
Anna grit her teeth. T​ hen I’ll wish I hadn’t.
Raising her pistol, the merc fired a shot, which went wide. Seeing the danger, the serpent-armed
women veered to her side, swinging the baton in short, efficient strikes. The glowing end of the weapon
waved ominously in Anna’s face.
Anna raised her pistol for another shot, but the woman plunged her baton into her bionic arm,
frying its servos. She felt no pain, but screamed with rage at the setback.
Bitch!
Scowling, the mercenary swung her hovercycle around, dropping back and speeding up to the
Snake’s other side. An enclosed tunnel was coming up, and the relative darkness would do neither of
them any favors.
Her adversary was less skilled with her left hand, jabbing and swinging but failing to connect.
Time slowed to a halt as Anna saw her opening. With a savage side-ram, she slammed her hovercycle into
the Snake’s, pinning it against the wall. The woman dropped the baton, focusing entirely on steering.
A great shower of sparks lit up the area around them, and Anna bared her teeth as she reached
across to grip a handful of the women’s long, blonde hair. A pair of serpent-headed hands tried to pry
herself loose, but it was too late.
The woman’s heart stopped, the warmth swelling inside her.
Yes...
With a savage motion, she pressed her adversity’s head against the wall, flesh and bone flying
away as the concrete ground the woman’s face away. Her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out

as her body stiffened and convulsed, remaining in place as the woman’s skull was sanded away in a
powdery cloud, adding a streak of white to the long red smear on the tunnel wall.

Anastasia Reid let out a long, silent exhale as she released her grip. There wasn’t enough of the
woman’s head to grasp any longer, and the feeling inside was threatening to take over. It was all she could
do to steer with her one good hand.

She disengaged the hovercycle, not bothering to watch as it and the mostly headless body on top
veered away and crashed. There were still three other intruders to deal with. Taking a moment for the
feeling within her to subside, she keyed general comms.

“All units, this field lead. We have intruders incoming, on hovercycles. I want full lockdown of
the spaceport. I say again: full lockdown of the spaceport!”

Various voices of acknowledgement sounded in her ears, but she tuned them out. The vision of
the woman’s head being rapidly ground down to nothing was exploding in her vision.

For the first time in a week, Anastasia Reid smiled.

Lehman heaved and doubled over.
The good news is that I’m off of that damn bike.
The hunter caught his breath, the adrenaline making his legs wobbly. He would be useless at
running.
The bad news is that I’m off that damn bike.
Matt took a few steps, leaning against a wall and taking a moment. He was in the starport’s
parking garage, several levels underground and without the first clue as to where everyone else was.
The man held up his wrist computer, the act of raising his arm also a challenge.
“Kyndi, Raddick- are y’all still with me? I’m here.”
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the man’s voice came through. In the background
was the moan of a dying man. Raddick’s breathing was slightly harder than normal.
“Yes. We’re both safe. The girl, I mean. I can’t speak for your friend.”
The comm chirped, and Kyndi’s voice rang through.
“Well, I ​can​ speak for me, and I’m okay too. Relatively. Times like this I wish I wore
underwear.”
Matt rolled his eyes. ​Jesus hell, Kyndi.
“So what now?”
“Well, it’s hard to say for sure, but all hell is breaking loose. It’s all over the city. People are
coming out of their homes and rioting. I guess the use of ship-class weapons against civilians was the
final straw for these people.”
The hunter sank to the floor, despair in his gut.
Those poor bastards. And what the hell do these folks think they’ll accomplish? Raised fists ain’t
gonna go jack shit against a multicannon strafe.

Kyndi’s voice echoed in his ears. “The good news is that it’s a hell of a distraction. One we could
use. Looks like you were right, Matty.”

Lehman chuckled, his voice weak.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I won’t let it go to my head. Everyone remember which bay they’re docked
at?”
“Twelve.”
Matt nodded. “Ten. Damn near next to each other. See you there.”
The hunter looked down, wishing mightily for a drink and to be wearing his own clothes. Above
his head, he could hear voices and the stomping of hundreds of feet. Maybe there really w​ as​ a riot going
on…
Lehman looked down. A​ nd if there is, this is the last getup I want to be wearin’. Goddamnit.

Kyndi killed her comms. She too was at the spaceport, but hidden away in a gift shop. Her
smuggler’s instincts had allowed her to dodge several Blackstar patrols, but she knew that her luck
wouldn’t last forever. Taking a look around to make sure that the coast was clear, the woman stepped
gingerly across the lobby to one of its expansive windows. The Starport was the city’s pride and joy, an
impressive sight amid the endless blocks of smog-belching industrial centers.

As Raddick had said, masses of civilians were spilling into the streets. From where Kyndi was
they looks like specs of color, insects more than an angry throng. But the city was angry, and Blackstar
had bigger problems on their hands than a handful of troublemakers. In the distance more vehicles like the
ones before were rolling in, creating a barrier between the more affluent core of the city and the sprawling
slums. Even then the tide of angry citizens wasn’t stopped, simply going around the hastily-rigged line of
barricades that the mercs set up.

No matter that was going on, Kyndi knew that Black Omega’s name was mud. She shed the
overcoat of her officer’s uniform, tossing aside the cap but keeping the pistol. She unholstered it and
checked the weapon. It was a Cauldus nerve-blocker, a failed attempt to create a stun-only version of the
popular sidearm. The woman scowled, chastising her earlier self for uncritically grabbing the first pistol
she saw. The Cauldus would incapacitate if it hit skin or cloth, but wouldn’t do much against armor.

There would doubtlessly be a crowd of rioters swarming the spaceport within the hour. Kyndi
untucked her officer’s dress shirt, trying to appear as casual as possible. It would be up to her to link up
with Lehman and Raddick and get to their ships.

And if the little girl survives, that would be nice too.

“Shhh, young one. You are in the coils of the Great Serpent, and the granddaughter of an Elder.
Fear must ever be overcome if you are to one day lead.”

The man’s familiar accent and serpents on his arms calmed the young girl. Though terrified, she’d
stayed close to him. Her eyes had been squeezed shut the entire hovercycle ride, hearing cursing and
explosions around her but never being brave enough to look. Besides, the wind hurt her eyes.

“Okay.”
Nodding, the man squatted down on his haunches.
“I want to play a game. I want you to imagine that this is not a terrible thing that is happening, but
your own story. You’ve been brave, and have been through much- but what kind of story would end with
the poor little girl not getting away?”
The child blinked. “A bad one?”
Raddick nodded. “A bad one. Who would want to read such a thing?”
“No one?”
The man’s eyes lit up, even as he took a cautious look around.
“No one! And your story will not end here. Yours will be the tale of the girl who led her people to
a glorious new future, where the Great Serpent blessed her and protected her forever. But do you know
what has to happen first?”
The child shook her head. The man smiled.
“The girl must be very silent, and do exactly as she’s told by the man who is trying to protect
her.”
Again, the child was silent. The man looked down the corridor, hearing the cries of an angry
crowd in the distance. They wouldn’t have much time.
“My name is Raddick. What’s yours?”
The little girl swallowed.
“Ingrit.”

“Yes, I said to s​ hoot​ if the crowds don’t disperse! This city is vital to the Omegas’ war economy,
and I’ll be damned if the factories shut down on my watch. Call down the fleet and burn their hab centers
if you have to. The Omegas can always import slaves to replace the lost labor, but the loss in production
is unacceptable. You have your orders, Reid- carry them out!”

“Yes, s-”

The holofac cut out, leaving Anna standing there like a fool. The chief tactical officer was on
edge, the entire system his responsibility. No doubt he was under the magnifying glass from their
superiors on board the B​ lack Sun, t​ he company’s restored capital ship from another era.​ ​If Blackstar failed
to keep order after the losses they’d already had, their reputation would be in tatters. It was do or die, and
he knew it.

Gone was the fiery passion in Anna’s belly from watching the Snake’s skull grind down to
nothing in her palm. That had been sport, a thrill that only a huntress of men could know. Unleashing fire
and death upon a mob was different. There was no heart-pounding intimacy to it, no looking one’s prey in
the eyes as their final moment arrived. There were only orders, and the execution thereof.

Objectively, Anna knew that atrocities were a short-term solution at best. Populations were kept
in check only as long as their hatred was outweighed by their fear, and bodies in the streets had a way of
unbalancing the scales. There was also the pesky fact that the Omegas regarded the civilians under their
heel as an asset, and for a merc group to cost them assets was a strike against them.

Memories of destroyed skimmers burned in her vision, renewing the irritation that had been
eating at her nerves.

These people have made their decision, and I have my orders.
“Ma’am?”
A small cluster of officers had been surrounding Anna during the holofac. Anna scowled and
turned to them.
“You heard the man. Forget the water cannons and pain pellets. Weapons free for the units on the
streets.”
One of the officers stepped forward, concern in his eye.
“And the units securing the starport?”
Anna looked to the massive structure in the distance.
“Pull out all but a platoon. Order them into position around the hangar entrances. The intruders
are trying to escape, not fight. The rest I want disbursed to the checkpoints facing the most opposition.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
In the distance, the noises of mass discontent could be heard. A mob was approaching her
position, and she’d ordered the command column to circle in the middle of a plaza. Though the crowd
surrounding them seemed without number, Anna felt no fear. Instead, her mind focused upon the several
unexpected setbacks encountered that day. The Black Omega imposters, the chase, the losses of vehicles
and men…
At her heart, Anastasia Reid was a woman who preferred simplicity. Simplicity in the jobs she
took, simplicity in her recreation, and simplicity in seeing her will carried out. Between her orders and the
situation imposed upon her, she found herself free to do what was necessary to undo the complexities of
her afternoon. The mercenary thumbed her comm unit, contacting the hovering air support above their
heads.
T​ ime to give simplicity its day.

Kyndi was the first to see it, checking twice to make sure. Squads of mercs were loading into
transports to be shuttled into the city center. Looking around herself, she keyed her comm unit and spoke
in hushed tones.

“Looks like they’re pulling back to deal with the locals. Now’s our chance!”
Not bothering to wait for a response, the smuggler darted up the debarding terminals, her head on
a swivel. It was disconcerting to be walking the halls of an empty spaceport, where she was used to being
able to blend in with a crowd. Now she felt naked, almost certainly being tracked by security holos.
No time to worry about that. Just meet with the others and get to the hangars.

Matt heard his partner’s update, but didn’t answer. He too had been making his way toward the
ship hangars- only to nearly dive around a corner once he saw them. Guarding the master entryway was a
small gaggle of mercs, surrounded by tactical shielding and clustered around a vicious-looking plasma
repeater on a freestanding mount. Suddenly the carbine in his hands felt woefully insufficient.

In the distance, a dark figure moved. Matt raised his weapon- and then lowered it once a second,
smaller figured followed it. Raddick and his mission-critical ward silently joined Lehman, the two men
speaking in hushed tones and the child not at all.

Raddick peered around the corner and scowled. “It’s the same at the all the entrances. Three or
four men around a gun as big as my-”

He glanced down at the child, shaking his head.
“Well, big.”
Matt grimaced. “Right. Well, I​ ​ ain’t in the mood to have a measuring contest, not against that
damned repeater.”
A third figure could be seen, shorter and lithe. Kyndi rounded a corner, her officer’s jacket shed
and hair down. The fire team hadn’t seen them yet, but if there were patrols that would change. She
looked at the two men and raised her eyebrows.
“All this testosterone, and no one thought to grab a grenade or two?”
Matt scowled. “Reckon I ain’t in the habit of strapping bombs to my chest, darlin’.”
Raddick jerked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “How good of a shot are you? If you’re
swift, you can ambush them.”
Lehman held up the weapon and shook his head. “In a ship I’m a damn terror. With a popgun I’m
relying on beginner’s luck, and I used that up already ridin’ that damn hovercycle.”
For a moment Raddick said nothing, not wanting to admit weakness before a pair of outsiders.
“It is as you say for myself as well.”
Kyndi held up her pistol. “I’d have a better shot at stunning them with my tits than with this toy.”

Each member of the trio looked at the other two. The little girl at Raddick’s side stared wide-eyed
at her protectors. Lehman spat, his drawl spilling all over the deck.

“Well, ain’t w​ e​ as useless as an Anaconda at Hudson Orbital?”

“More!”
The Blackstar mercs surrounding Anastasia Reid had formed a firing line, emptying clip after clip
into the panicked crowd. The scene before her was a bloodbath, with the crude and scavenged weapons of
the mob no match for professional firepower. For weeks, the Blackstar mercenaries had chafed under their
humiliating new posting, resenting the downtrodden proles they were assigned to “protect”. Now, they
were unleashed to vent their frustrations at the point of a barrel.
The vehicles’ weapons fired repeatedly in all directions, carving bloody swathes through the
densely-packed crowds surrounding the command post. Even some of the battle-hardened mercs at
Anna’s side blanched at the sight of so many twisted and smoking bodies. So savagely was Anna’s
command carried out that a second layer of fortifications had been made, walls of corpses atop streets
slick with blood. Mounds of human detritus made any approach to their position a ghastly one.
Screams filled the air as thousands turned and trampled one another in their flight away from the
pitiless mercenaries. In the distance other checkpoints could be heard, the staccato of small arms fire
accompanied by the deeper booms of the vehicle-mounted weapons. True to her word, Anna’s threat to
use air support had been executed, and in the distance the city’s skyline was marred with flame and
smoke. The streets were now filled with screams of terror, not anger. Ships with the Blackstar logo on
their hulls hovered ominously, their weapons ready to annihilate any pockets of resistance. The revolt was
over.
Anastasia Reid looked at the scene surrounding her with calm eyes and a clear mind. Her natural
hand disappeared into her combat vest and emerged with an onionhead joint between its fingers. The
mechanical limb still hung uselessly at her side, but a look of nonchalance spread over her features as she
pressed the joint against the barrel of a hovertank’s just-used main weapon. Soon the distinct odor of the
semi-legal herb filled the air.
The ear-shattering booms of ship-class weapons filled the sky, followed by an eerie silence. A
burning odor was creeping into the open air. Already Anna was pondering the long-term consequences of
her firm’s actions. In the short term, the populace would be too shocked to do more than cower in what
remained of their homes and weep for their dead- but what could the firm expect after this?
The merc took her first drag, her eyes sweeping the horizon.
After this? After this we get paid, get gone, and hand Black Omega a fatassed sack of
not-our-fucking-problem-anymore.

Kyndi’s eyes widened.
“Don’t look now, guys- but I think we’re in for company!”
Voices and heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor. The four people pressed
their backs against the wall, Raddick with a hand around Ingrit’s mouth. With luck, the approaching
patrol would round a corner and pass them by, but-
A pair of Blackstar mercs emerged, on alert but with weapons slung. For an awkward moment,
the pair locked eyes with the four intruders, both parties stunned at the sight of the other.
Matt was the first to react, raising his carbine and cursing.
“Oh, h​ ell-”
The weapon was set to burst fire, with two of the first three knocking the first merc onto his back.
The other was just starting to unsling his weapon when a stun shot from Kyndi’s pistol sped by his
helmet, the next impacting his arm and spinning him around. Matt bared his teeth and kept pulling the
trigger. Tungsten-core rounds tore through the unprotected legs of the two men. More punched through
their torsos. Their screams filled the corridor.
In a sudden shower of debris and noise, the heavy plasma repeater that had been guarding the
entry to the docking bays annihilated the corner, sending all four to their bellies. Matt and Kyndi tried in
vain to find a shot at the mini-fortification, and Raddick covered the child with his body.
It was a standoff. The trio of intruders couldn’t round the corner to return fire without exposing
themselves to withering firepower, and the Blackstar mercs didn’t dare leave the protection of their
emplacement. Almost immediately the merc in charge raised his comm device, radioing for aid.
The direness of the situation wasn’t lost on the three. Matt scowled and checked the clip of his
carbine. It was nearly empty.
“Reckon they’re whistling up some friends,” he said.
Kyndi glanced at her partner, the pistol hot in her hands.
“You t​ hink?”
Another burst of withering plasma fire annihilated the wall further down the corridor. The gunner
was simply targeting random sections before him, hoping to get lucky. Soon there wouldn’t be any place
left to hide behind. The trio plus the little girl looked up from their cover. Raddick had a hard look on his
face, an unnatural calmness.
“Outsider,” he said. “Can you reach the bodies of those other two?”
Matt glanced behind himself and nodded. “Sure can. Hankering for a weapon?”
“In a manner of speaking. Bring both. I’ll shelter the child. Go!”
Shaking his head, Lehman dashed down the corridor. Grunting and gripping the pair of dead
mercs by their boots, he pulled them across the floor to the ruined length of corridor. He dropped them in
front of Raddick, breathing hard. Down the corridor, additional voices and footsteps could be heard. Matt
picked up the carbine, gritting his teeth.
“If you’re gonna make something happen, now’s the time!”

Raddick didn’t answer, only slowly rising shedding his prisoner’s jacket and undershirt, nude
from the waste up. Magnificent serpents rippled over sinewy muscles, his eyes on the where the
Blackwater weapons nest would be if he could have seen through the wall. He hoisted both bodies over
his broad shoulders, unsheathing a combat knife from them in both hands. With a downward glance he
looked at his golden-haired ward.

“Remember, young one: your story does not end here. Lead our people well.”
Before Matt or Kyndi could stop him, Raddick postioned both bodies before him and charged the
emplacement. An inhuman howl came from his throat, and the deep sound of the repeater echoed in the
corridor. Matt and Kyndi grabbed the child and threw themselves to the deck, but unlike before the
screams of men accompanied the weapons fire. The repeater fire stopped as the sounds of approaching
mercs drew nearer.
Kyndi got on her hands and knees and scrambled to the corner. She saw Raddick, stiffly upright
and holding the final merc at arm's length. With a pitiless gaze he shoved his combat knife through the
man’s throat.
Raddick collapsed almost as soon as his final victim did. Matt and Kyndi sprang to their feet and
run up to the scene. The tactical barriers had been knocked aside, the annihilated human-shield corpses
held by the rampaging man in pieces. All three mercs lay dead with slashed throats.
Matt looked at their wounded partner and dropped to one knee.
“Oh, h​ ell…”
Raddick was a dead man, and he knew it. His chest was a mass of burned-away flesh and
exposed, blackened ribs. Scorched tissue raised and lowered from his slowing heartbeat. With a grim look
he reached out and pulled Lehman to him, speaking in a strained voice.
“Tell Ranja…”
He choked, blood spilling from his mouth. His final words were for Lehman alone.
“Tell Ranja that it was not for the Elder’s little one, but for ​ours​.”
The man’s eyes rolled back, his great heart succumbing to the horrific trauma. Ingrit’s eyes
widened as her hands covered her mouth. The first few mercs rounded the corner at the other end of the
hall. Matt cursed and grabbed both his and Kyndi’s hands, throwing the carbine down to the floor.
“Quick!”
The trio sprinted down the undefended corridor, massive bay doors at their sides. Without the
heavy tactical gear of their pursuers, they could run faster- but were slowed by the shorter legs of the
child at their side.
Matt lifted the golden-haired youth and tucked her under an arm, his pace quickening. A few
stray shots impacted not far from them.
“Bay ten- r​ un!”
The distance was crossed quickly, the heavy stomping of boots never far behind them. A massive
stenciled bay door with the appropriate number loomed before them. Ahead in the distance, two more
mercs could be seen, drawing their weapons.
“Punch it!”
Kyndi smashed the bay door controls with an extended palm, the trio slipping in between the
slowly-opening bay doors. Lasers blasts and bullets ricocheted around them, with Matt keying in the
Betrayal’s​ remote access from his wrist computer. Slow, it lowered, the entry door unlocking. Breathing

hard, they scrambled to the top of the ramp, laser bolts leaving blackened scorch marks along the flawless
white hull.

The door slid shut behind them and the ramp retracted, one enterprising merc dangling from the
lip before falling off. A few other threw grenades at the landing gear, but their blasts did only minor
damage.

Inside, the trio bolted down the main corridor, the muffled ​ting ting ting​ of small arms impacting
harmlessly against the hull. Matt jumped into the pilot’s seat, with Kyndi taking own at his side. There
was no place for the child to sit, so Kyndi pulled her to herself and wrapped a pair of protective arms
around her. Matt bypassed all pre-flight caution as his fingers danced across the control panel, bringing
the B​ etrayal’s​ systems online in a hurry. Outside, the mercs continued to expend clip after clip into the
massive vessel, their captain radioing for air support.

The Fer-de-Lances’s engines roared to life, overwhelming the nearest mercenaries with light and
heat. They lifted their arms to shield themselves against the blast, the ship rising and filling the bay with
noxious fumes and heat. The captain’s orders were carried out, and the bay doors that led to the open sky
began to close.

Kyndi’s eyes widened at the sight. “​Matty…​”
Lehman glanced upward and cursed. “I see it, I see it. ​Hang on!”
Disengaging his usual flight assistance avionics, the hunter tilted his joystick slightly to the right
and diverted all boost power to the lateral thrusters. On his throttle, his thumb brushed the button that
would release the pent-up energy.
One chance…
Lehman’s thumb jammed the button, and the B​ etrayal’s​ lateral thrusters lit up, rocketing the
vessel sideways through the narrowing bay exit. With mere feet to spare, the ship cleared the door,
leaving a bay full of burned and writhing mercenaries.
The ship was no sooner through the bay than its shields started to ripple from the impacts of more
weapons hits. Two Eagles and the same circling dropship bore down on the escaping vessel, spraying
multicannon fire at the vessel and causing even more damage to the occupied city.
Inside, Lehman restored normal avionics and deployed his hardpoints. Kyndi clutched the
golden-haired child to herself and covered her eyes.
“No time to play action hero, Matty! We need to get out of here!”
The ​Betrayal’s​ shields survived another pass as the the hunter kicked the ship into full gear,
rocketing away from the starport. The teal blue holopanels before him were a mess of activity, warning
him of additional ships incoming. Lehman cursed and retracted his ship’s weapons.
“Reckon you’re right, darlin’. Hang on!”
With a flick of his fingers, the hunter diverted power to weapons and shields, tilting the
Fer-de-Lance upwards and igniting the engine boost. A deep rumble echoed throughout the ship as its
massive engines exploded in hot blue thruster flame, pressing the trio hard against their seats. The
orange-brown hues of the polluted cityscape darkened into the blackness of space, impacts from the
pursuing Blackstar vessels still testing its shields.
With a muted chirp, the all-clear to to jump into supercruise blinked. Matt’s manipulated the
controls of the navigation screen, bringing up the closest system that was on their side of the planet. A
holographic icon appeared before them, the hunter aiming the ship towards it. Behind them, the shields
continued to ripple, weakening from the nonstop punishment.

Matt’s hand gripped the master hyperspace lever as the computer plotted a jump solution.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw it forward, his mouth opening in a cocky grin.

“Follow t​ his!”
Even in the planet’s upper atmosphere, the space around the B​ etrayal​ trembled and distorted.
Ingrit’s eyes widened as she beheld the spectacle for the first time, her fear mixing with newfound
wonder. The stars stars stretched as the ship was plucked from normal space, plunging them into the eerie
plane that old-timers knew as witchspace.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Good, Kyndi. That’s good. How many girls your age can say that they can hack a door?”
The child looked up with satisfaction at her parents, grinning from ear to ear. For several long
months she had sat by their side, learning the strange symbols and ways of stringing them together to
make machines do new things. It was an entirely new alphabet, one that she had learned on the heels of
the more mundane one. For her young mind, the two were natural and linked, the act of writing her name
for the first time not long before recoding a door to open without a passcode. It was one of several in the
Asp Explorer, and being able to pass through the ship uninhibited would be a boon for all three of the
exploring family.
The little girl looked at to her father. “Why do we need to play code games with the ship for the
doors to open? The doors at the places we go to just open.”
Father and mother looked at each other. The man smiled, his features handsome.
“Because sometimes ships like to play games with their owners. This one knows that it has people
onboard, and it doesn’t want them to get bored. And you like to play the games, don’t know?”
Smiling, the little girl nodded…

“Oh, hell. I am ​not​ in the mood for games!”
Kyndi’s eyes opened, still in the co-pilot’s seat. In one arm was Randy the Raccoon, and in the
other the child, also asleep. The B​ etrayal​ wasn’t moving, the starfield of deep space surrounding them.
The woman yawned and stretched, shaking her head.
I fell asleep? How long was I out? And why aren’t we back to that mountain base?
Matt noticed her movement and nodded. “Goddamn engine blew again. The fabbed parts just
weren’t up for it. It’ll take awhile for me to get out there and run a bypass.”
The smuggler leaned forward and rubbed her eyes. The girl’s hair was floating in the lack of
gravity, as was hers. Per the habit of most spacefaring women, she kept two or three bobbles on her wrist
at any given time. She took one in her fingers and absentmindedly tied her hair into a ponytail, doing the
same for the sleeping child.
“When did I fall asleep? I don’t even remember being tired.”

Lehman shrugged. “Well, you must have been. It was the fourth or fifth jump. I was just blabbin’
away to who I t​ hought​ was you when I heard the first snore.”

Kyndi’s eyes widened in mock indignation. “I do ​not​ snore!”
The man chuckled, and then looked to the child, turning serious.
“The kid cried a little in her sleep, and you didn’t look so good either. So I went and fetched
Randy while you two snoozed. Figured you could both use him.”
The smuggler got up, securing the child into the co-pilot’s seat.
“Thanks. It’s just... it’s just unlike me to nod off during a job, you know? I wonder if I’m just…”
Matt’s face screwed up in curiosity. “Just what?”
Kyndi looked down at her feet, her eyes sheepish.
“Finally coming down from that week-long bender from before I found you. I pushed it pretty
hard and never stopped to rest, even after I puked up all the narcs and booze.”
“Hot.”
The woman chuckled. “Yeah, just-”
She weighed speaking more, but decided against it. Instead, she gestured to the child.
“That Raddick guy- he sacrificed himself for her, didn’t he? Some kind of heroic gesture for his
clan?”
Lehman took a few steps closer, his hand drifting to Kyndi’s back as he, too, looked down at the
child.
“That’ll be the story, but no.”
“No?”
The hunter took a deep breath. “The rest of them snakearms probably ain’t supposed to know this,
but…”
Curiosity shone in Kyndi’s eyes.
“But?”
The hunter exhaled. “But right before he died he told me to tell that one-armed wife of his that it
‘wasn’t for the Elder’s little one, but for ours’. You and her got to know each other. Mean anything to
you?”
Kyndi nodded. “She’s pregnant, and has two others by him. He went out thinking of his family,
not himself.”
Matt’s face hardened. “Like a man should, I reckon.”
The pair was silent for a moment. Kyndi looked again at the slumbering child before them.
“At least we got this one out.”
The hunter nodded. “Think I can fix the ship before she wakes up?”
A sad smile lifted Kyndi’s lips.
“Let’s hope.”
The hunter leaned in, kissing his purple-haired companion.
“It’s a big universe. Anything can happen.”
Kyndi’s eyes relaxed, a preternatural calm in her features. Hearing her old favorite saying soothed
her.
Matt smiled, sarcasm in his eyes. “I mean, I ​totally​ downed those ships sent after us, right? Not
like I'd ever run away from a challenge if there's a woman who needs impressed.”
Kyndi blinked, her distant gaze remaining fixed for a moment. She turned to her lover.

“And that's why you're here? To impress me?”
The hunter turned to the bridge’s entrance, flashing a final smile at her before heading to the
airlock.
“Just tryin’ to finish the job, darlin’.”

“Well?”
Matt’s face was covered in equal parts sweat and weariness. He was stripping away his
spacewalking suit in the ship’s​ ​ready room, exhausted from the work of manually bypassing an engine
feed.
“Well, the B​ etrayal a​ in't passing an emissions test anytime soon, but I ain't flyin’ with only one
nacelle any more. One more trip outside ought to do it. I just need some rest.”
Kyndi nodded. “Our girl is still asleep, tucked into the covers of your bed. Figured you wouldn't
mind.”
The hunter shook his head. “And what about you? You holdin’ up alright?”
“I think so.”
Lehman stowed the last of the spacewalking suit into the locker, eyeing his companion.
“Darlin’- what you said before-”
Kyndi looked up. “Yeah?”
The man took a deep breath.
“About that bender. Fillin’ your body with all that junk, and then trackin’ me down. I gotta know
something.”
The smuggler looked sideways at the man.
“Oh?”
Matt hardened his lips, and then pressed on.
“Once you've got them discs back and we’re in the Wild West of Colonia- are there any more
surprises from your past you've stuffed away? Any more reasons that I might walk in from a long day of
haulin’ to see you passed out with a needle in your arm or something?”
Kyndi’s eyes narrowed.
“What do you mean?”
The hunter looked at his boots, and then back up to his companion.
“You k​ now​ what I mean. A bit of puff and a drink never did any harm, but-”
He exhaled. “But if we’re leavin’ the bullshit behind, let's look each other in the eye and l​ eave the
bullshit behind. ​All I’m askin’ is if you can do that.”
The old affection that had marked her attitude melted way.

“What's the matter, Matty? Afraid dinner won't be ready the second you get home? That your
little stay-at-home wifey-poo won’t darn your socks?”

There was an edge to her tone, and he knew it. He didn't want to argue, not in the middle of deep
space. But still…

“It ain't about that. If we’re gonna make a life together, I need to know that you ain't gonna pull
one of your famous disappearin’ acts once the goin’ gets tough.”

A pair of dark eyebrows shot up.
“You're talking to m​ e​ about tough, like you’re some kind of expert? What, is having another little
girl around giving you some white knight daddy fix? What the ​hell​ kind of pompous asshole would you
become if I got pregnant?”
Not believing his ears, Matt scoffed.
“Oh, ​hell ​with this. With all that junk you've been packin’ into your system for a decade, can you
even ​get ​pregnant?”
Kyndi took a step back, as though shoved. Her head slowly shook, real pain seeping into her
voice.
“Matty…”
The hunter scowled, a tinge of regret in his chest. He spread out his arms and took a step forward.
“I’m sorry, alright? Just this whole job’s been gettin’ to me. It was supposed to be in and out, nice
n’ simple. But it ain’t.”
Kyndi looked at him, distrust in her eyes.
“We’ve had jobs go w​ ay w​ orse and you’ve never been like this.”
The smuggler reached down and picked up the stuffed raccoon, holding it to herself.
“There’s something you’re not telling me. Something about this place puts you on edge. I don’t
know what it is, but there can’t be a Colonia until we’re ​both​ being honest about our pasts.”
“Darlin’, I-”
Kyndi turned and strode out of the B​ etrayal’s​ bridge. Matt took a step forward to follow her,
mouth opening to say something but silenced by her fingertips on his chest.
“Scared little girls like to have someone nearby. Just trust me on that one, okay?”
The smuggler walked away, her pony tail floating in the no-grav environment. Matthew Victor
Lehman looked around himself. His only company was now a strange little girl, a ship in need of parts,
and a head full of questions.

Kyndi Jane McCaskill closed the door behind her, burying her face into her hands now that she
was alone.

What am I doing? What did I just say? Matt’s just trying to help, to make sure you’re on the level.
Now you’re sounding just as flighty as he’s afraid of.

The smuggler looked around herself. Matt’s stateroom was as elegant as always. Before her was
the bed upon which they’d made love, amid a gaudy pile of credit chips from right after Matt had
acquired the ship. It was a sobering contrast to the spartan bunk of her own Diamondback, and-

Kyndi swallowed. ​And he’s ready to give it all up just to make a life with you.​ ​No hesitation. All
he wants is you, and here you are pushing him away.

Her outburst had taken her by surprise as well. A woman with a man in her life and spare time to
think often found her thoughts drifting to the unexpected, pondering every hypothetical no matter how
remote. Children had been one of them, the first thoughts of which occurring intrusively during what
should have been a perfectly mindless onionhead high. It had happened right after their adventure with the
slave mine, when Matt had gone on his damn fool quest to rescue Katie Taylor from the clutches of the
Kumo Crew.

The job had been long and harrowing and dangerous, not the least because Kyndi had abandoned
her partner in his sleep, the idea of journeying back to the worst time and people of her life proving an
overwhelming one. But she’d felt terribly about leaving Matt, turning around and barely rescuing him
from his captors in time. It had ended spectacularly, with the pursuing Kumos vanquished, Katie and her
parents freed, and the pair of companions wining and dining on Achenar, but-

Kyndi made her way to the washroom, pulling a wetted cloth from a dispenser. She dabbed her
face and looked at herself in the mirror.

But then that mind of yours started to wander.
Matt had been good with Katie. Not fake-it-for-the-job saccharine, but genuinely ​good.​ Kyndi
looked at the two and in subsequent onionhead hazes saw the future- at least until she caught herself. But
the thought of a conventional, settled life with him had never gone fully away, intruding upon her
thoughts when she least expected it.
And then he had to say what he said. Who the hell does he think he is?
Swallowing, Kyndi moved a hand to her belly. It was flat and soft like always, but-
But not like Ranja’s, with that little hard lump sticking out a little. What’s that like, feeling a new
human life growing inside you?
Matt’s snide remark about her body being too saturated with narcs to bear a child had cut deep,
deeper than she’d thought it would. Of all the things he could have said, why did he choose to mention
that?​ Had he thought about the same things? A life with the woman who had betrayed and paralysed him
during their first job? Commitment? C​ hildren?
Kyndi shook her head, her hand moving away from her belly. ​Of course not. He’s a simple man
with simple tastes. You’re just a set of tits and ass to him. Always were.
Even as she thought it, she knew on a deeper level that it wasn’t true. Plenty of men had
propositioned her​ f​ or “bunking up”, as it was known- but Matt knew her on a level that others simply
didn’t. And if he ​did​ want to commit, what did that mean for him?
Finding a man had never be a problem for a woman like Kyndi. ​Trusting​ one was.​ A​ nd what
about ​him?​ What was Matt to a woman like herself, anyway? An escape? A fallback plan? Something
more?
You picked him for a reason, and you know it. You’re just getting tripped up by everything. Your
parents, seeing your old childhood home, having another little girl around to remind you of your past,
and a goddamned one-armed pregnant woman who made you feel her baby bump. What do you expect
after ten years of solving your problems with strange dick and familiar herb? You’ve alienated the dick...

Kyndi felt inside her jacket, the familiar outline of an ever-present onionhead joint regrettably
absent. She scowled and cursed herself for naively resolving to make the trip clean.

… and now you don’t even have the herb. Way to go, Kyndi Jane. Way to go.

Working on an engine in the middle of deep, lawless space was always a dicey move. Working on
an engine in the middle of deep, lawless space when one’s partner wasn’t talking to you bordered on the
foolish.

Matt frowned. ​Then again, no one ever accused me of bein’ smart. And the vacuum of space still
ain’t as cold as the inside of my ship right now.

For over an hour, the man had waited, sat on the commander’s seat next to the slumbering girl.
He’d half-expected for her to walk back inside, collected and reasonable and maybe even apologetic. But
she didn’t, and even with his ear pressed to the door he hadn’t heard the sounds of her pacing the
corridors.

The flashes from the plasma welder lit up his face, his suit’s helmet darkening its frontal glass to
compensate.

Afraid to walk the corridors of your own damn ship. That ain’t no way to live. And all because of
a woman.

The man’s thoughts darkened. This hadn’t been the first time he’d had to repair a ship engine on
the fly. He’d had to do the same in his old Viper, the P​ rofessor. ​Memories of being stranded on the
barren, icey moon came to mind. His frown twisted into a scowl.

That was because of her, too. Reckon there’s a pattern emerging here.
But the man couldn’t bring himself to blame his companion. There were no shortage of grifters in
the ‘verse, and things had worked out, hadn’t they?
Even that first job had been a rollercoaster. Memories flashed in the man’s vision: the sexual
tension and the betrayal. The thrill of selling the captured pirate ship and the amorous night that resulted,
followed by the empty feeling of waking up to a note.
The man’s scowl stayed put. ​And it wasn’t the first time, either. She did that to you when you
were out to find Katie-
He could almost h​ ear​ her voice, confident and sure and sultry after she’d snuck into the mine and
shot the guard in the back.
And then she turned it around and pulled your ass out. Some hero you turned out to be. But she
was there for you, wasn’t she?
The hunter looked around, neglecting the welding but taking in the blackness of Pegasi.
And then Marra sent that skinny little pet of hers to wave a holo of Kyndi in front of your face to
get you to be her pawn for some power grab. And you did it.
Matt had promised himself that he would never tell Kyndi of his secret efforts to keep her safe.
Then again, there was a l​ ot​ that he hadn’t told her about when he’d gone to Pegasi, and until now he’d

been under the impression that she was none the wiser. And she’d been right. He was a hypocrite until he
told her everything.

Marra, the warrior-mating, the secret plot to sabotage that invasion and that secret deal to come
back and off Deggie. What’ll she say when she learns that there’s another woman who’s got her hand on
my balls even more than she does?

But there was more to it than simple leverage. Matt was d​ rawn​ to Pegasi, enchanted by women of
dark power like Marrakech Morgan and Kat von Steuben. He didn’t want to be, but what the hell was he
supposed to do? ​Not​ love it when an infamous outlaw pressed her lips to his?

The man exhaled, forcing himself to get back to the business of fixing the engine.
Plus, she knows. She knows that something big happens every time you’re out here. Picking up on
the details even though you ain’t said shit. Just like a woman, huh?

Kyndi couldn’t sleep.
She’d carried- nudged, more like- the sleeping child from the copilot’s seat. Now she was secured
under the covers of the stateroom’s luxurious bed, her arms floating in the lack of gravity. Kyndi tried and
failed to sit at her side, the weightlessness paradoxically making the act of sitting one of effort.
The reality of being having a young one onboard provided a curious sense of focus for the
woman. Normally she’d be sleeping or engaged in her usual debaucheries, but they weren’t available. It
didn’t matter. Unlike during her private brooding earlier, she didn’t feel the need for them in the presence
of the child.
The smuggler let out a private chuckle. I​ s this some microcosm of motherhood? Kids show up and
suddenly dick and herb aren’t priorities. No wonder so many hubbies get bent out of shape.
But it was true. Her parents, seeing her childhood home get destroyed, making a major decision
involving a ​man...​the child’s presence had helped Kyndi straighten her thoughts. By all rights she should
have been slamming her body with every narcotic and available man that a black market had to offer.
Instead she was standing over a sleeping child, feeling an odd peace within herself. It made for an
uncomfortable contrast against the tension with Matt earlier.
And wives. This is why wives become more wed to their children than their men. Easier to love,
easier to forgive.
A sinking pessimism spread within her chest.
How many people start this way, in love and certain of their futures together? And then they settle
down and stop adventuring, pump out a kid or two and give everything to them. Nothing left for
themselves anymore, trapped in the sad little lives they now lead? Isn’t that what you’ve been avoiding
this whole time? Isn’t that what all your “I stay free” bullshit’s been there to protect against?
Kyndi looked at the slumbering child, her thoughts drifting despite herself.

But it wasn’t like that for your parents. You didn’t end their adventure- you completed it.
Further memories played out in the woman’s mind.
And when it was time to power down and sleep, what was the rule when you were old enough?
“Mommy and daddy time unless its an emergency”. And even then they had a lot of closed-door talks
while I was up.
Despite herself, the woman chuckled.
Guess it’s pretty amazing that you’re an only child.
The levity gave Kyndi the balance that she needed. She looked up, knowing that Matt was
somewhere outside, probably cursing and regretting that he’d ever agreed to the trip. Her thoughts refused
to budge from the similar situation that her and Matt and her parents faced. Love was difficult in the void-
but if it was possible for them, it was possible for their daughter. Right?
The women picked up Randy the Raccoon, the feel of the stuffed animal familiar even after the
passage of a decade. Another sardonic chuckle escaped her lips.
Well, if things don’t work out with Matt, at least I’ll have you.

“Hey.”
Kyndi stirred, the stuffed animal clutched to her chest like before. Unlike then, her partner didn’t
amorously remove it and move to embrace her. Instead he stood over her and nodded. He looked haggard,
the task of fixing the engine a demanding one. The woman looked up at him, still not over their words
from before.
“Hey.”
Matt waved his hand over a bedside sensor, the stateroom’s lights dimming. Kyndi had nodded
off, her and the child sharing the bed.
“Engine’s fixed. I hope.”
The smuggler nodded. “Okay.”
Matt turned to leave. “Reckon it’s time to get back.”
“Yeah.”

The return flight to the Njikas Gold Crew’s sanctuary was an uneventful one, the duo having set a
course through uninhabited systems to avoid the war. Neither hunter nor smuggler were in the mood for
conversation, their words casting a shadow over them. There was no time to lose, no desire to draw things
out with the strange child on board. Matt glanced backward to his partner, her eyes lazily fixed to
whatever was outside the canopy glass. The look of bliss from before was gone. Her expression was all
business.

Lehman turned back to the controls. The planet on which the sanctuary was located was coming
into view.

Business. Ain’t that the truth? It ain’t like before with Katie, when we took our time and even
started lookin’ like a family.

The events leading to where they were played out in his mind. The encounter with the merc
group, the safehouse, the chase, Ranja and Raddick’s noble sacrifices…

All that, and we don’t even know the kid’s name. Reckon that white knight armor’s gettin’ a little
dingy.

“Ho-li-s​ mokes. L​ ook at all them ships!”
The hunter’s eyes bulged, the rocky ground around the mountainous sanctuary covered by a small
fleet of landed Gold Crew vessels. At its center was a rough-looking Anaconda, surrounded by aging
Lakon freighters and a complement of rusting Eagle Mk Is. Even the Eagles dwarfed those milling around
them, serving as a reminder of their true size.
Kyndi’s eyes remained impassive. “Looks like they’re getting ready to leave.”
Lehman held a pair of fingers to his ear, shaking his head. The instruction from the Gold Crew’s
ground command had been clear.
“That, and it’s a full house. Reckon we’re settin’ down on dirt this time.”

The B​ etrayal’s​ engines wound down, the cloud of dust that had been kicked up by its descent
blowing away in a gentle breeze. The air around the rocky sanctuary was breathable, though spending too
long outside usually resulted in lightheadedness. For a short while the ship simply sat, idle on a small hill

overlooking the flatlands next to the mountain entrance. The long, elegant ramp unsealed itself and
descended, scuffing the paint on its lip on the rocky terrain. The engineers at Zorgon-Peterson might have
shaken their heads at the rough locale that their prize creation now graced. The aestheticians at
Saud-Kruger no doubt would have wept.

But it wasn’t a day for tears. The duo who descended the ramp- him, in his flight boots and
leather jacket- her, in a black tank top and a pair of olive cargo pants, were out of earshot, but they could
sense the excitement in the air. Their mission was the one of the final pieces of a greater puzzle, one upon
which the fate of the clansfolk before them depended.

Kyndi looked behind herself, to the top of the ​Betrayal’s​ ramp.
“C’mon, sweety. These are your people. You’re home now.”
Not saying anything, the golden-haired child followed, the door sliding shut behind her. The
smuggler half held out her hand, pondering and then thinking better of taking the girl’s into her own. If
hers were truly the tiny set of shoulders upon which the clan’s future might rest, it would be best for her
triumphant return to be unsullied by the unflattering reminder that she owed her life to a pair of outsiders.
Matt and Kyndi looked at each other, tension still in their mutual gaze. The hunter pursed his lips.
“Time to get them data disks back.”
Kyndi nodded, glancing down at the child beside them.
“And figure out how to tell that Ranja woman some god-awful news.”
Sober, Matt nodded.
“Right.”

Ingrit didn’t stray during the walk to the mountain complex. Even though she recognized the
serpent-armed tattoos of the men and women around her, they were still strangers and she was still a
child. It may have been the Great Serpent’s will that she one day lead her people to a glorious future, but
even royal children were still children, and she reluctantly stayed close.

At the entrance of the sanctuary the base of the mountain loomed, casting its shadow over the trio.
In the distance, a solitary figure waited. Matt and Kyndi trudged onward, grim-faced and dreading the
moment that approached. Ranja Raddick appraised the returning trio with a look of approval, a look of
compassion washing over her face at the sight of Ingrit.

“So the Great Serpent was with you, it seems.”
Lehman nodded, glancing downward at the child.
“Reckon it was.”
The hospitality had left Ranja’s demeanor, but a glimpse of humanity could be found in her eyes.
“And Marcus? He’s on his way? I didn’t see his ship with yours.”
Neither answered immediately. Kyndi took a step forward.
“No. He isn’t.”

For a long time, the woman said nothing. Her hand drifted to the tiny bump beneath her tunic but
her face remained hard, her eyes fixed upon the gold-haired child before her. Ranja was no fool, and had
long prepared for this moment.

“Then he has brought honor to himself and his clan. There is no greater fate than that.”
Lehman scowled and stepped forward, an intimate distance from the clanswoman.
“He said-” He glanced behind himself and continued, his voice low. “He said that it wasn’t for the
Elder’s little one, but yours. Yours and his.”
Ranja blinked. “Did he?”
“Yeah. And we’re all here because of him. That’s the truth.”
The woman took a step backward, her features softening.
“If we win this war with the Skulls, I will shed my blood on an alter to his memory. If not, this
little one will go into the void with his spirit watching over her.”
Kyndi looked sideways at the woman.
“Speaking of going into the void, we had a deal.”
Ranja’s eyes hardened at the smuggler’s insensitivity, but reached into a pocket and produced the
data disc. In one motion, she tossed it to her acquaintance.
“Your lives are your own, and our business is concluded. But I think you should stay.”
The hunter scoffed. “Fat chance. This is between you and them Omegas.”
Ranja glanced down to the child, and then to the masses of men and women around them going
about their business.
“The fleet you see is departing tomorrow. When word of the child’s safe return spreads, it will we
seen as further evidence of the Great Serpent’s favor.”
Kyndi’s eyes narrowed. “‘Further’?”
An impish smile lifted the clanswoman’s lips, despite her concealed grief.
“Yes. We have hit the Skulls broadly and deep. Their merchant fleets are in ruins and their worlds
aflame. Discontent spreads like cancer among the people under their boot.”
Lehman spat to the side, scowling.
“Hell, ​we​ coulda told you that. They’re all stick and no carrot.”
Ranja drew herself up, taking Ingrit’s hand. Clearly the expression was unknown to her.
“Whatever they are, you have done well. You are free to leave- but I implore you to stay one
more night.”
Kyndi crossed her arms. “Yeah? And what’s the occasion?”
For the first time, a pained look broke to the surface of Ranja’s features, though she swiftly
concealed it. She looked at the man and woman before her and smiled a sad smile.
“Tell me, outsiders: have you ever seen how a free people celebrate?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Deep within the mountain was a massive natural cavern, lit with crude industrial lighting in some
areas and great gas-fed braziers in others. The thousands of clansfolk who lived and worked in the
sanctuary were assembled as one great human mass, standing shoulder to shoulder. In the cavern’s center
a great crop of rock rose, atop which was Albrecht Kane, flanked by bald-headed serpent priests and a
nervous-looking Ingrit.

Matt and Kyndi stood amid the throng, both wondering what was in store. There was an energy to
the place, an air of expectation that remained unspoken by the men and women surrounding them. Finally
Albrecht held up his hands, signalling for silence.

For a long time, the man was said nothing, allowing the tension to rise. Then he spoke, in a
booming, authoritative voice. Whatever the man’s innate charisma didn’t do, the excellent natural
accounstics of the cavern did.

“Brothers and sisters of the Serpent! Hear me!”
The remnants of all conversation ceased, every ear straining to hear the words of their Elder.
Again, the man stood still, his hands raised and looking around the throng with a long, pregnant pause.
“It is a time of great peril. We are locked in war against a rival like no other. This very Pegasi is
in danger of being lost forever, not to the wiles of some clan, but to outsiders who would see this place
turned into another stale swathe of the Bubble!”
There was widespread hissing and booing, the crowd signalling its displeasure at the thought.
Albrecht waited for the response to pass before he continued.
“And that is what the Skulls are. They pretend to be a uniter, a greater power that marshals the old
clans toward common purpose. They are anything but! See their fine uniforms and sleek ships. See their
allegiance to greed and not to gods and kin. They are led by outsiders and whores, fools who see the old
ways and seek to corrupt them. This corruption had even spread to our own ranks!”
Again there was a round of hissing. Wolfgang’s Teilhard’s betrayal was by now known to all, as
was his fate.
“But we are strong. We are strong, and the Great Serpent is with us. The Skull leadership is
paralysed- their old man lays in his deathbed, and their hopes lay in the heiress of a fallen pirate clan. All
is in our favor, for it was one of our very own who slew the scourge that was her father, and has already
bested her in combat!”
There was a mighty stamping of feet, the deep pounding booming in the chamber. It was no secret
that the one he referred to was convalescing deep within the very sanctuary that they occupied. Nearly
every man or woman present had taken the time for a few minute’s silent vigil, beholding the tortured

woman with their own eyes as she endured the agony of the Shedding. Soon she would be healed, and
leading their ships and warriors to victory as she had before.

“But the foe is relentless. For every hero that falls, ten Skulls lay in death around them- but it is
not enough! An endless line of fools and weaklings flock to their banner, and the Great Serpent’s favor
touches but a few.”

The chamber quieted. The truth of the Omegas’ numbers compared to their own was sobering and
known to all. But the Elder wasn’t finished.

“Yet the sacred texts do not deceive. The Great Serpent ever sheds the skin of the past, and even
now it reaches into the void. Its will is unclear, but our destiny is not! The Skulls may come at us with all
their might, they may throw men and ships and lives into our dens and drown us in a river of their own
blood- but they will n​ ot p​ revail! They will ​not s​ tamp out the old ways!”

A murmur went through the crowd. The purpose of the great fleet parked in the rocky wastes
beside the mountain range was the stuff of speculation and rumor, and at last they felt its presence would
be addressed.

“The Inner Circle of Elders has taken steps to ensure the survival of our people. The ships and
crews beyond our sanctuary walls are no mere guests, but the preservers of our very way of life! They are
loaded with all that is necessary to begin anew- far from the Bubble, far from the concerns of the Empire
and Federation and Alliance. They carry with them our future, and the very best of us go with them!”

At saying his last sentence, Albrecht took Ingrit’s hand and raised it, a deafening cheer of
approval echoing throughout the chamber. Matt and Kyndi looked at each other, uncertainty in their eyes.
The energy in the cavern was building, a palpable anticipation of s​ omething…​ but neither could quite
place it.

“The weeks ahead will determine the fate of those left behind. But we are strong! We are the
chosen of the Great Serpent! And we will drink in its essence and feast upon its flesh!”

The Elder signalled, and another great cheer boomed throughout the cavern. A great line of
children and adolescents entered, each carrying a great clay vessel. The aroma of cooked meat graced
Kyndi’s nostrils, piquing her curiosity.

And now it’s dinner time? Is this how these people pump themselves up?
The Elder’s speech was concluded, and the deep beating of massive drums could be heard. The
crowd around them started to dance and sway, the rhythm of the drums taking control. Youth with great
plates of sizzling meat dispersed into the throng, men and women picking their choices of roasted snake
flesh from the platters as they passed by. The same was done with the older youth, boys and girls wearing
heavy packs filled to the brim with ceramic bottles. Their burdens were relieved even more swiftly as they
moved amid the crowd.
Ranja plucked a trio of bottles from a passing young man, handing them to Matt and Kyndi and
keeping one for herself.
“Venomwine,” she explained. “To ​feel​ the Great Serpent’s favor in your veins.”
A skeptical look crossed Kyndi’s eyes. “The greatest warriors in all of Pegasi are a bunch of
cave-dwelling winos?”
Ranja nodded to the bottle. “Drink now, judge later.”
Matt pulled the cork from his own bottle and took a swig, feeling the same warmth as before roil
his stomach. Seeing Kyndi’s sharp gaze, he shrugged.
“When in Achenar, right?”

Kyndi rolled her eyes. “I’ve ​been​ to Achenar. The accommodations were better.”
Nevertheless the smuggler took a drink of her own, not reacting to the fire that was surely
warming her insides. Ranja watched her acquaintances, her expression deepening.
“I had hoped that Marcus and I would have a final feast together, before one of us was taken.”
Matt frowed, not quite knowing what to say. Looking the woman in the eye, he raised his bottle.
“He went out like a man. Reckon that Great Serpent of yours must have been proud.”
The woman took another long pull. Kyndi’s eyes darted to the woman’s belly, the concern on her
face impossible to conceal. Ranja noticed her gaze and smirked.
“The Great Serpent tests us all before we are even out of the womb. If the child is deformed or
simple, it was never meant to live among us. But do not worry, outsider- I am a mother, not a fool. This is
the only venomwine that will pass my lips until the child is born.”
Another plate of meat passed by, and both Matt and Kyndi took a piece. It was tender, roasted and
seasoned to perfection. Matt took another long swig of his wine and shook his head.
“Godd​ amn​, these clanners know how to have a barbeque. Every time I come here it’s something
new.”
All around them the deep notes of the drums pounded, the pair unable to tell if they were real or
from cunningly concealed speakers. Men and women danced and swayed, some by themselves but most
with their partners. Others congregated in small groups, their movements growing more carnal as the wine
flowed.
Ranja, too, allowed herself to be moved by the drumbeat. She was a picture of tribal elegance, her
rhythm unmarred by her grief or her missing forearm. Under his jacket, Matt felt the first traces of
intoxication, his heart starting to pound.
And here I didn’t think that anything could top that party at old Solomon Adissa’s.
“You do not dance?”
Matt looked up. Ranja was before him, swaying and moving as before, but closer. The hunter
shook his head, holding up the bottle.
“Never got the hang of it. I’ll need a ​lot​ more this until it’s a good idea. Reckon I’ll be sitting this
one out.”
A look of amusement crossed the clanswoman’s face. “The same cannot be said for your mate.”
“Huh?”
Ranja’s eyes looked past him, and Matt turned around to see Kyndi finish her bottle of
venomwine and reach for another. Already a pair of serpent-armed men were gyrating near her, fascinated
at the sight of the purple-haired outsider. She pulled the cork from her new bottle with her teeth and spat it
out, taking a swig as one of them moved behind her. His groin ground into her backside, but she didn’t
move to stop him.
Lehman felt a hand gently move his jaw around, his eyes meeting Ranja’s.
“It is proper that warrior mates be together on feasting days. The woman ​is​ your mate, is she
not?”
The hunter pursed his lips. ​Out here? That’s a matter of opinion. But no need to get into all that.
“Reckon that’s a question for the philosophers these days. I thought that we were, but-”
The woman’s eyes intensified. “But ​nothing.​ If she is yours, then you must fight for her. If not,
then-”

Behind them, Kyndi was losing herself, oblivious to or ignoring the hunter not five feet away.
She, too, was gyrating to the drumbeat, grateful for the distraction and feeling like her old self. The men
around regarded her with drunken, covetous eyes.

“Then you must let her go for someone who ​does.”​
A shock went through Matt’s gut, the idea of losing Kyndi one of pain and anger. He took another
swig of wine, his face hardening. All the history between him and the woman he’d arrived with flashed
before his eyes.
“Hell with that.”
Without another word, the hunter turned, striding up to the gyrating woman and the men grinding
on her. With a single pull he took her hands, spinning her to him.
Kyndi’s eyes flew open. “What are you ​doing?”
The hunter took his woman, holding her close. The feeling of her body in his arms felt more than
sexual, more than romantic. It felt like h​ ome​.
“Cuttin’ in.”
An indescribable look passed over the smuggler’s face. She didn’t match the man’s urgency, but
she didn’t push him away, either. Her words were marred by just a trace of slurred speech.
“That’s all you’ve ever done, you know that? Cut in. Cut in where you don’t belong.”
The drumbeat intensified, the world slipping away. Hunter and smuggler become one amid the
throng. Wine flowed and carnal appetites increased, clothing being shoved aside by straying hands.
Matt’s head spun, the venomwine coursing in his system. He was more than drunk, more than
booze-brave. He felt ​alive, i​ n control and powerful. Was it the effect of the wine? The beating drums? The
environment? The woman in his arms?
“Reckon I’m right where I need to be, darlin’.”
A look of anger and heartbreak washed over Kyndi’s face. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
She’s rejected him, pure and simple and in terms even he understood. But here he was, and here s​ he
was…
Damnit, Kyndi Jane. Just when you thought you were free...
Her expression fiercened, her free hand raising to slap the man holding her. Her palm hit home,
but stayed pressed against the man’s cheek. It was too late.
“You never d​ id​ know when to stop, Matty…”
Her fingers crooked themselves, her breathing intensifying. Her hand drifted down, gripping his
shirt in a clenched wad. Without a word, the woman pulled him to herself and pressed her lips to his, the
wine and the drums and the energy of the place seizing them. She broke the kiss, her eyes boring into his.
“So don’t you ​dare s​ tart now...”
Their lips met again, their tongues caressing against the other. All around them the carnality of
the night had its way as the venomwine took hold. The masses around them settled where they stood to
eat and drink and touch, some still dancing and others already shedding clothes. Not far away Ranja
reclined, her tunic pulled up and a young woman staining a brilliant serpent onto her belly, coiled around
the tiny bump. The looks that the two traded promised that neither would end the night alone.
Kyndi exhaled, pulling the man closer and biting his ear. His hands drifted down to her backside,
squeezing as he pressed his body against hers.
“Let’s get back to the ship.”

The smuggler opened her eyes, the writhing masses surrounding them. Her gaze drifted upward,
the horizon unsteady from the wine and the adrenaline. The chamber sported crude stone steps, leading to
alcoves and a rocky balcony of sorts above them. One of them appeared to be unoccupied, and the
Betrayal ​was such a long walk away...

“No chance,” she said, taking his face into her hands. “When in Achenar, remember?’

The throb of the drumbeats was slightly reduced, but Kyndi’s heart pounded all the same. Her
cargo pants were down to her knees, Matt’s arms curling around her as she braced herself against the
natural stone wall. It was dark inside the alcove, the cavern’s already poor light masking them inside its
shadow. She could see the writhing masses in the chamber below her, bodies in various states of undress
and debauchery.

Kyndi’s head was swimming, from the venomwine and drums and sheer energy of the place. But
there was more to it than that. She felt ​alive,​ like her first ever hit of rush. Matt’s kisses trailed lower and
lower, along her neck and chest and belly-

The smuggler gasped as his tongue hit home. For a minute, she let herself drift away, the feeling
of pleasure between her thighs a familiar one. But her unquiet mind wouldn't allow the blissful carnality
to which she was accustomed. Things were coming fast for her, feelings and memories from times past
exploding in her vision. Seeing Matt at the bar the first time, the hologram of the same artifact she’d been
looking for foolishly pulled up before him. Stranded in the derelict Anaconda, the first tendrils of real
trust starting to grow within her…

Lehman’s tongue moved and pushed, her hips arching back and forth. T​ hat’s when it started. On
that damned iceball of a planet, when you took a chance and crawled into the bunk with him because you
were freezing. The way he held you, how safe you felt…

The woman squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her man slip her trousers to the rocky ground, pulling
her feet from the rumpled pantlegs. She splayed one thigh from the other, swallowing in anticipation. Yet
her mind wouldn’t rest.

And then you betrayed him. Because that’s all you knew. And he tracked you down to finish the
job…

The hunter’s tongue resumed its work. Kyndi gulped for air, trying and failing to lose herself in
the sensation.

But it all worked out, didn’t it? The job, the credits, the drinks with him and his friends… you
even spread for him, because you were never going to see him again anyway…

The feeling between her thighs intensified, along with her memories.
But you did. Again and again and again, until you were doing things you never thought you’d be
doing and feeling things you never thought you’d be feeling…
The heat within her flared, the woman crying out in climax and pressing her lover’s face to her
body. She ought to have been floating, blissful and stupid and sated. O​ ught ​to have been, but wasn’t.

What the hell is with you right now?
But even her frustrations were soon swept away. More recent memories played in her head. She’d
been certain of her choice in Matt. Certain in her acceptance of his offer to go to Colonia. Certain that she
could leave behind everything that she was. Kyndi caught her breath and took a swig of venomwine, the
tingles deep within her subsiding.
Maybe you had it wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want you to change. Maybe he wants to bring out
what’s best inside you.
The bounty hunter rose to his feet, kissing his woman deeply. The feeling of his lips on hers was
just as fulfilling as it had been moments ago. His mouth tasted of their intimacy, but his eyes teemed with
urgent lust. It would be unjust to deny him.
“You’re not finished, flyboy.”
Kyndi’s hands drifted down, unbuckling his belt and pulling down everything she could hook her
thumbs into. He was ready. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to make right
and apologize for. But she wouldn’t. Not now.
Lehman didn’t reply, only pressing her against the wall and kissing her deeply. The rock was
rough against her bare backside, so she arched her hips forward and wrapped a leg around her lover’s
waste. Hunter and smuggler’s eyes squeezed shut as she guided him inside her, their breaths quickening…
The feeling of fullness was overwhelming. Matt opened his eyes, his pace already increasing.
“He looked at me and saw his warrior woman.” That was what Ranja said. She was broken and
maimed, and he loved her more for persevering. Is that what I’ve been missing? Is that what’s been going
on?
The drumbeats reverberated through her body. Her lover moved swiftly, with urgent abandon.
It’s me. I’m the one who’s been broken this whole time, and he loves me for it. He never gave up
on me because I didn’t, either.
The woman opened her mouth and threw her head back, Matt kissing along her neck. Her
thoughts finally drifted away, allowing herself to accept the moment, the warmth and pressure inside her
again building. Her mouth opened slightly, unable to contain herself. Her moans accompanied his thrusts
until once again her legs buckled from a fiery wave within herself. A sudden squeezing accompanied a
sudden swelling.
Matt’s words spilled from his lips. “I said godd​ amn!”
Her lover pushed deep inside, shuddering and burying his face into her neck. Kyndi felt a new
warmth within her, a wetness running down her thigh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him
close.
And when she returned to him, he gave her a child. Re-invested in everything they were.
The drums and throng of human voices from below returned to her ears. She was still pressed
against the wall, her heart racing and the bottle of venomwine still in one hand. Kyndi gulped, her head
swimming from the raw feelings within her. That morning she’d been prepared to abandon Lehman for
good. And now?
Their lips met, luxuriating in another long, sensual kiss as she slowly moved her thigh down. The
warmth within her slipped out, their spent sexes pressing against each other.
Now I’ve got my man, I’ve got my legacy, and for the first time I’m sure of what I should be
doing.

Kyndi ran her hands through her lover’s hair, renewing the kiss. To her surprise, she actually
laughed.

“Promise me something, Matty.”
Swallowing, the man nodded.
“Anything.”
Her lips lifted, smiling her old Kyndi smile. She pressed the bottle of venomwine to her lips,
drinking the last of it and giggling.
“Promise that you’ll pack a bottle of whatever this is for when we get to Colonia.”

There was no mention of the role that the outsiders played in rescuing Ingrit. An exaggerated
account of Raddick’s heroism was publically orated by the Elder himself. Those Gold Crew who had
perished in New Accra were named, the names unfamiliar to Matt and Kyndi save Ailsa’s. Beside them
was Ranja, her face hardening at the woman’s mention. Kyndi noticed the gesture from the corner of her
eye.

So there really was some history between you three, wasn’t there? What happened? Were things
that good? Or that bad?

The smuggler let out a slow exhale. ​Guess we’ll never know.
Like before, the couple were standing among a massive crowd, some basking in the morning sun
and others in the shadow of the massive Anaconda starliner landed before them. If the men and women
around then were hung over from the previous night’s debaucheries, they didn’t show it.
Several people from the sanctuary had been chosen to accompany the fleet into deep space, those
possessed of unusual talent for a warrior society. Healers, builders, those skilled with machines, and plant
growers waved solemn goodbyes. They would never see their fellow clansmen again, and there hadn’t
been room for mates or children. There was an undercurrent of heartbreak in their farewells, though to be
selected for such a journey was an honor. The final person to board the mammoth ship was the
golden-haired child herself, dressed in a brilliant white wrap that made her look older than she was. As
the door shut behind her, the crowd chanted her name.
Ingrit, ​thought the smuggler. ​So that’s her name. Already being hailed as a great leader, the
savior that would lead her people to thrive in the deep void.
A great cheer went up among the throng, though neither hunter nor smuggler joined.
What a terrible burden to place on a child’s shoulders.
Ingrit was clearly groomed from birth to handle leadership, and she had been unmoved by the
attention and the noise. Yet her eyes had held a hint of fear for those who could see.
The poor girl. Let’s hope that that Raddick guy really is watching over her, huh?
The Elder finished his speech, and a final, deafening cheer went up through the crowd. The
expedition wasn’t unlike the war effort itself. Like those fighting, those who would embark into the void
had a simple, binary choice: succeed or die. There was no trace of defeat or shame in the faces of those
assembled. Indeed, their efforts would be renewed.

As one, the crowd moved a safe distance from the departing ships, the rumble from numerous
engines shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Matt raised his arm to shield his face against the heat
and light, Kyndi burying her face into his chest.

As a unified whole, the ships of the serpent fleet lifted from the ground, kicking up a storm of
dust and pebbles. Ears would ring the rest of the day from the noise, but not a soul dared miss the
occasion. Once again, a child that Matt and her had saved was speeding away from them. True, it hadn’t
been like last time, when they’d become almost attached to the little one whose life briefly touched theirs,
but-

Kyndi opened her eyes, feeling Matt’s chest against her cheek and seeing Ranja also bracing
against the storm. It might have been the way her tunic was fitting that day, but she could swear that the
woman’s bump was larger than it had been the day before. A warm feeling spread within her.

But one day, there might be a child who doesn’t fly away until it’s damn good and ready.
The ships rocketed into the atmosphere, the artificial dust storm they created dying down. The
light from their engines eventually faded from view, every eye of the mass of humanity fixed upon their
glows. Around them, the crowd began to disperse, but Kyndi clung to her man for a moment longer than
necessary.
And that child will have been raised to love and stay free. Always.

With a steady hand and clear eyes, Ranja of the Njikas Gold Crew began the most crucial stage of
her stewardship for the woman before her.

From the beginning she had tended her ward, watching in macabre fascination as the ceremonial
blade cut the skin from her shackled and raised arms, blood running down her body as the dermis was
peeled away. It had been her job to control the bleeding, to insure that the inductee survived the ritual.
The woman in question had said nothing as the grisly torment commenced, though her body was drenched
in sweat and her chest could be seen throbbing from the rapid beating of her heart.

In the end she endured brilliantly, in agony but in no danger of dying. The priests connected the
tubes of regen drugs to her exposed veins and spoke a few words of the Great Serpent’s favor. Then they
left until the second part of the Shedding could commence. From that moment, the woman’s life was in
Ranja’s hands.

The woman looked down at her half-limb. ​Hand, more like. But no matter. If I can raise children
with only one, I can certainly take care of an immobilized woman.

And take care of her she had. Sleep came hard for a person in a permanent kneeling position
whose arms were on fire with pain. The woman before her drifted in and out of a hellish stupor,
responding to neither greeting nor touch. In that time, Ranja saw to the needs that the woman herself
could no longer satisfy. Every day since the first cut, she had washed the woman’s body by hand, running
a soapy rag along her skin and whispering words from the holy texts to strengthen the woman’s spirit.

Food and drink was hand-placed into a trembling mouth. Bodily waste was cleaned and removed with
dignity. The woman even brushed her ward’s long, raven hair twice a day.

For Ranja, it was a partnership that had never ceased to amaze. Before her was a marvelous
specimen of the Great Serpent’s favor, a warrior woman from a place that she had only heard about,
exiled from her former life and seeking the protection of the Gold Crew. Since then she had proven her
worth, slaying the Great Serpent’s enemies with contemptuous ease but always staying aloof of clan
politics. Thus did she ever wear the simple green snakes of an initiate, never once seeming to resent her
low official status.

Those who stood at her side knew better. She was an artist at both hand-to-hand combat and
piloting her Fer de Lance alike. In time, she was granted permission to seek out the underground
engineers to refine it, turning the vessel into a deadly extension of her lethal will. Thus did her fame
spread within the clan, a warrior who stood out even among such as them. And then, when the war with
Skulls exploded in a mess of betrayal, whispers of a personal interest on the woman’s part were never far
from anyone’s ears.

Even in her prime, Ranja would never have been half the warrior as the woman before her, and
she knew it. Yet here she was, utterly dependant on the one-armed priest’s assistant for survival. Humility
was one of the many lessons the Shedding was meant to teach. No matter the heights of one’s glory, they
were in the end only one executor of the Great Serpent’s will among many. Nevertheless it was an honor
to attend one so favored by the deity.

Thus was it with solemn reverence that Ranja removed the lid from a simple clay pot and dipped
her fingers inside, covering them in the thick, viscous fluid that would complete the healing process.
Mindful of the tenderness of newly-regrown skin, she with her one hand smeared the substance over the
woman’s arms, taking cares to cover every last inch of her skin. Satisfied that she had missed nothing, she
unfurled a roll of clean linen, gently wrapping it around the woman’s limbs to bind the healing fluid to
them.

To attend one undergoing the Shedding was no small task, and one best suited for a mother.
Though of similar age, Ranja had nearly come to regard her ward as an adopted daughter, though the
description would never be apt. Theirs had been a silent bond- one as tender and intimate as lovers,
though not a word had escaped the woman’s lips.

Ranja’s hand drifted down to her belly, barely protruding with child. The henna serpent from the
feasting was dark and beautiful, and the young woman who applied it an old friend and sometime lover,
fulfilling certain needs with Marcus’s permission when he was away. She had helped Ranja in her own
way, the serpent a reminder of their deity’s blessing and her touch a comfort in a time of grief. Yet Ranja
was heartbroken, lonely though her children were seldom far away when she wasn’t on duty. No, she
missed Marcus’s touch, and the urgency with which he would never hold her again.

The final wrap of linen coiled around the woman’s arm. Only time would complete the healing
process now, and it was customary for the final phase of the ritual to be borne in solitude. Slowly, Ranja
replaced the lid and set the pot on a nearby shelf, where small jars of ink and hollow snake fangs stood by.
Soon the priests would weigh the woman’s life and decide what serpents her arms would henceforth bear,
and she would emerge from the ordeal as one of the Great Serpent’s favored.

Trembling, the woman climbed upon the same slab of stone upon which her ward knelt.
Mirroring her position on her knees, she reached within her tunic, pulling out a brush and grooming the

woman’s hair a final time. Her strokes were long and deliberate. When the woman’s raven tresses were
straight and smooth, she took a deep breath. It had been her final act as the woman’s sole attendant.

With a trembling hand, she tilted the woman’s chin up to face her. Even in her long-tortured state,
the woman was beautiful and almost vampirically pale. Ranja pressed her lips to her ward’s, savoring the
moment. It would be the only time she would ever touch true greatness, the closest she would come to
knowing the divine before she shed her own mortal coil. And in that moment of intimacy, she felt closer
to her ward than ever before.

The woman’s eyes flew open, Ranja’s breath escaping as she jerked backward. They were
bloodshot, strained from so many days and nights of poor sleep. Yet the woman was lucid, and her vision
focused. Her breathing intensified, and the chains that held her in place clinked and tightened. She saw
her attendant, saw the snarling statue of the Great Serpent above her- but to Ranja’s alarm derived no
peace from either. Her gaze sharpened, looking not at the woman before her, but to something else.
Something b​ eyond.

The woman’s pale face contorted into a primal image of hatred. Her focus intensified as her teeth
bared themselves. Her old Teutonic accent, so similar to that of the Gold Crew’s, hissed from her lips as
she managed a single, tortured word.

“Morgan…”

CHAPTER NINE

“It’s funny, you know? To obsess over something for so long…”
Kyndi Jane McCaskill held the data chip in front of her face. To her sides, the kaleidoscope of
witchspace flew by, the clouds and particles reflecting in her facial visor.
“... and to almost be afraid once you’ve got it.”
From the pilot’s seat, Matt nodded.
“And what did you say was on there, again?”
Kyndi pulled out her dataslate, inserting the disc. Her eyes focused as the loading icon appeared
before them.
“Everything. Ship’s logs, security feed, ports of call- the entire history of everything the ship did.
What ​we​ did.”
Her partner chuckled. “Reckon I shouldn’t wait up for you when I hit the sack then, huh?”
Already the information was scrolling past Kyndi’s eyes. It was raw and unsorted. She looked up.
“It’ll take me weeks to go through this. Maybe even longer.”
From where she sat, she could see Lehman shrug.
“I’ll be sure to feed n’water you. Move you into the sunlight, too.”
Kyndi smirked, not dignifying Matt’s snark with response but not upset either. She settled into
her seat in a decidedly non-Pilot’s Federation-approved slouch, nudging his seat with her toe.
“Of course, I’ll have plenty of time to go over it on the way to Colonia, right?”
Matt glanced to his side.
“Already planning on ​me​ doing all the flyin’, huh?”

The trip back to Amy-Charlotte was silent, but not tense. Kyndi retreated into herself, organizing
the raw data of the ship’s datacore into something accessible to a common dataslate. Matt busied himself
with the task of steering the ship, but so accustomed was he to piloting the ​Betrayal​ that he was able to do
so absent conscious effort. He, too, had much to think about.

The hunter ran his hand over the stitched leather trim of the display panel before him. The
Inevitable Betrayal​ was his baby, his prize possession. He’d miss it, but-

But it was bought with blood money, and blood money’s all it’s ever brought in. With all the work
that’s been done to it, it’ll fetch a nice pile of creds. Enough to get Kyndi and me into something that’ll be
a home as well as a ship.

Lehman’s mind drifted. B​ ut what? A Cobra’s a classic choice. Fast, versatile, parts for it
everywhere you go- can’t go wrong with it.

He filed away the idea. A Cobra MkIII was a solid idea, but it wasn’t the only ship in the ‘verse.
But what do you want to do once you’re in Colonia? You’re hangin’ up your reaper spurs- what’s
that leave?
Competing ideas danced in the man’s head. Colonia was a long way from being totally
self-sufficient, depending as it did on a steady convoy of supplies from the Bubble. Supply and demand
virtually guaranteed a seller’s market once one reached the isolated patch of space. Yet many of the
settlements were small and underdeveloped. A fully-laden Lakon freighter might be a path to riches in the
Bubble, but would find itself woefully limited in Colonia.
A Python then. Established, dependable, can land anywhere halfway civilized…
Matt considered his finances. The B​ etrayal ​was an expensive ship to maintain, as engineered
components required an expert touch to stay in top condition. He could sell it and purchase a Python
easily enough, and with Kyndi’s added cash could probably even outfit it to tip-top performance.
Yeah. Reckon that would do nicely. Go from job to job, doin’ what needs to be done and helpin’
folks just trying to start over. Shut her down at the end of the day and bunk it with the woman I love. Ain’t
a bad way to ride into the sunset, is it?
Since he’d been a child, Matthew Victor Lehman had dealt with the nagging feeling that he didn’t
belong. His youth had been spent roaming the wilderness of his parent’s property, isolated from his
schoolmates. The system in which he’d been raised was a conflicted one, culturally an independent
backwater but recently acquired by an aspiring Imperial patronage. His rural Federation accent had
alienated his more coreward peers in the Imperial Navy. Though a peaceful man by nature, he’d
discovered a knack for combat that had led to a decade of inner conflict.
And the more I return to places like Pegasi, the more it all starts to slip away…
Lehman didn’t just w​ ant t​ o get away from his life as a hunter. He ​needed​ to get away, and he
knew it. He glanced over his shoulder. Kyndi was still on her dataslate, her face a mask of concentration.
Light years behind her was Pegasi. Memories flashed in the man’s vision, recollections of danger and
betrayal and manipulation…
The man turned back to his instruments. Amy-Charlotte wasn’t too many jumps away.
And excitement. Damned if there weren’t some moments that didn’t get the blood pumpin’.
Matt had been immersed into Pegasi as an unwilling pawn. He’d been warrior-mated. He’d
helped shape the landscape of clan power politics. He’d been a party to the fates of entire star systems.
And yet, his cooperation hadn’t been ​entirely​ coerced.
Lehman scowled, resisting a stream of more sensual memories.
And the women. They don’t make ‘em the same anywhere else…
Marra’s rugged determination had struck a nerve with Lehman, with the outlaw first scorning and
then coming to regard the hunter as almost a lover. So too had Kat von Steuben’s dark, feminine energy
captivated him during their brief time together- and afterward. And Apollonia- poor, timid Apollonia, the

pale-skinned waif who feared and adored her mistress. Their time together had also been brief, but not
without temptation.

She offered herself to you for her mistress’s sake, and would have done anything you wanted,​ the
man thought. ​And like some overgrown space scout you turned her down. But how long would you have
held out?

The man closed his eyes, his final encounter with Marrakech Morgan intruding into his
consciousness. They’d been surrounded by primeval fire, her at the peak of her power, fully possessed of
her father’s legacy on that hellish monument…

A bolt of fire shot through his chest as he ​felt​ the memory. ​She put her hands on you and sunk her
hooks into your soul. You made a deal with the devil and sealed it with a kiss. And what a kiss it was.

Lehman exhaled, forcing himself to move on. Marra had warned him against doing exactly what
he was doing: abandoning their deal by running away to Colonia.

But warrior-mated or not, you take your chances. I ain’t in this to dance to her tune. Not any
longer. Reckon she’ll just have to munch down a heart with some other sucker.

The searing blue F-type star flooded the B​ etrayal’s b​ ridge with light, its canopy glass
auto-darkening to compensate. The familiar rumble of the hydrogen collector automatically harvesting
fuel echoed throughout, but Lehman wasn’t in the mood to save credits on something as plentiful as
hydrogen fuel. He tilted the joystick in his hand, steering his ship away from the star and toward the same
sleepy planetside town in which he’d celebrated not a week ago.

Reckon I could stroll through the town commons in my flightsuit and not a soul would recognize
me,​ he thought. Gratitude had a way of expiring far earlier than fear.

Yet the hunter wasn’t bitter at the prospect of being a nobody, even among people he’d saved. In
truth accolades made him uncomfortable, the showering of praise and cheer in which Kyndi had found
him handled with the help of alcohol and a gregarious air. Secretly the hunter had longed to once again be
amid the peace and solitude of space. Now that he was about to return, nothing had changed.

Lehman glanced over his shoulder. W​ ell, almost nothing. Solitude’s about to become a thing of
the past.

It was morning by local time, nearly the same hour at which they’d departed before. Kyndi
looked up and stretched as the ​Betrayal​ broke through the planet’s atmosphere, speeding toward the
settlement. Radio contact with its modest starport was established, the tower operator directing them
toward a landing pad in a bored voice.

Matt smirked to himself. ​Yup. Forgotten already.
“Here already?”
The man grinned and glanced behind himself. “What do you mean, ‘already’? We’ve been flying
for hours.”
Kyndi held up the dataslate. “Time flies when you’re occupied.”
Matt nodded. “Any progress?”

“I’ve got audio and visual on the security cams. It’s strange, though- there’s only a month of both,
and everything else is behind some serious encryption. I knew my parents were paranoid, but I didn’t
think they were t​ hat​ bad.”

The landing pad was looming before them. Matt cut the throttle and eased the ship down, landing
gently. In his ear the tower confirmed his landing and welcomed him to the township. Lehman
manipulated the controls, instructing the pad to move into the surface-level hangar and shutting down the
Betrayal’s​ thrusters. He was weary, the physical and emotional toll of the previous days catching up to
him. So too did Kyndi have a faded look in her eyes.

“Well, plenty of time to get everything sorted out.”
The pair rose from their seats to retire into the living section of the ship, Matt running a hand
along the smooth cream bulkheads. He followed Kyndi to the stateroom, his eyes drifting from the ship to
his partner.
I’m gonna miss the hell out of this ship. But I’d miss the hell out of her even more.
The pair shut the stateroom door, its soft hiss barely louder than the rustle of spacesuit material
being shed. They undressed in a matter-of-fact way, hanging up their suits and stepping into the
washroom. Matt opened the shower door and reached for the controls, the multiple jets of the luxurious
unit kicking on. It was only a moment before steam started to fill the washroom.
Without a word, the pair stepped into the shower and let the hot water cleanse them. The urgent
carnal energy from the Serpents’ venomwine-soaked feast was spent, replaced by a deeper, calmer
affection. There was nothing left between man or woman, no more layers behind which they could hide.
One chapter of their lives was ending. The new one would see both their hands on the quill.
Matthew Victor Lehman and Kyndi Jane McCaskill embraced, water running down their bodies
from all sides. Hands explored and lips met, soap being spread over skin. Bubbles gathered around their
feet, disappearing into a drain between their feet. Matt looked around himself, giving voice to his earlier
thoughts.
“You know… I’m gonna miss this ship.”
Kyndi gripped his face in her hands, gazing up at him.
“Me, too. But it was never you. Or me.”
Matt nodded. “Reckon a scuffed-up ol’ Python’ll be everything we need out there.”
A smile lifted the woman’s lips. “Think that Rax guy’ll sell us back the one we delivered?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
The pair exchanged a laugh, falling deeper into each other’s arms. Kyndi rested her head on his
chest, feeling his arms around her. In truth, she didn’t care what kind of ship they ended up in. Everything
was perfect. ​He’d​ been perfect, not flinching even after she’d pushed him away for a time. And the way
he’d been when rescuing Ingrit…
“You were great, you know. Back in Pegasi.”
She felt his chest shake from a chuckle. “One more safe little girl. And you didn’t do so bad
yourself.”
Kyndi smiled, water running down her hair and shoulders.
“You really a​ re a​ t your best when there’s something noble to be done, you know that? And the
way you dogfought those mercs- two Eagles and a Dropship! I knew you were a good pilot, Matty- but
you outdid even yourself. Three kills and not even a ring of shields gone.”
The fingertips caressing her back halted.

“Say ​what ​now?”
Kyndi broke her embrace and again looked at her man.
“Don’t be so modest. In the skies above New Accra. The way you flew and fought… I’m not
much for combat, but it was a rush. Almost made ​me​ consider bounty hunting!”
The man blinked, his jaw hanging open. “Right.”
The smuggler said no more, letting the water wash over her skin, her long purple hair clinging to
her back. The rest of the soap rinsed from her body as she turned to leave, smiling over her shoulder.
“We’ve got a big day tomorrow. Best to get some sleep.”
Lehman smiled, his eyes still holding within them a hint of unease.
“Just as long as I rate above Randy the Raccoon.”
The smuggler paused with one hand on her hip, allowing her lover to take in her curves.
“Jealous already, Matty?”

Even with the fatigue of their journey, it was still several hours before Kyndi was able to sleep.
Matt was sleeping next to her, his chest rising and falling. In one hand was the dataslate, its glow
illuminating her face. In the other was Randy the Raccoon.

For hours Kyndi had been watching security footage, audio from which had been playing into
tiny buds in her ears. It had been surreal for the smuggler, seeing and hearing her parents and a younger,
more innocent version of herself interact. Most of what the security footage showed were scenes from
everyday ship life, people walking or floating from one part of the M​ almonetta t​ o the other. Kyndi’s eyes
burned from staring at the holoscreen, but she didn’t care.

Look at me,​ she thought. ​Skinny with brown hair, before everything started filling out. Before-
The woman closed her eyes. ​Well, everything. And even then I was always carrying Randy the
Raccoon around like I was a little kid.
The woman glanced to her side. There was just something r​ ight​ about having the stuffed animal
in her arms. The last week had been curious. Though a habitual drinker and onionhead smoker, Kyndi
hadn’t once had cravings or longing for the drugs except when her and Matt had fought. But with the relic
from her past next to her, she felt like her old self. Clean. Calm. Safe.
She glanced to her sides, Matt on one and Randy on the other.
Safe most of all. You haven't truly felt that way since-
Her eyes returned to the holo, seeing her father kiss her teenaged forehead as he passed by her in
a corridor.
Since before they were taken.

Plenty of other scenes had been hers to behold, her heart racing at both the familial and mundane
happenings that she’d had and forgotten about with her family. A conversation about buying a new
flightsuit for her during their next port visit. A lecture- one she remembered being sick of- about the
importance of eating one’s ration bars and not smuggled-in surface food. ​That​ made Kyndi smile.

Even then I was a little troublemaker.
The woman skipped forward, to a security feed of her mother and father sitting her down and
having a dire conversation. Kyndi rolled her eyes at the memory. It had been when she was fourteen, just
after she’d snuck a young man onboard. Their amorous play had been nothing extreme, the
sixteen-year-old boy being a terrible kisser and not particularly skilled at intimate touch. But his presence
had been an adventure, a daring release to which her teenaged mind had insisted she was entitled. Her
parents had returned from port business early, walking in on their daughter in her bunk and the boy with
one hand up her shirt.
Kyndi shook her head. ​I was certain that he would die of my father’s fists and me of
embarrassment. But it wasn’t like that. Father ordered him off the ship and seemed more worried than
angry. That was just the kind of man he was.
At some point the part where their ship was attacked and boarded would play before her eyes, and
she knew it. Kyndi wanted to stop, to savor the moment of finally having all the good from her old life
finally back into her hands.
But she wouldn’t. A decade of being on her own had steeled the young woman’s mind. A
smuggler didn’t make it in the ‘verse by filtering out the bad news in favor of the good, and staring one’s
past in the eye was no different. Sleep beckoned for Kyndi, but she ignored it. She’d waited too long to
deny herself the truth now, and large portions of the ​Malmoneta’s​ data core were still encrypted. She
glanced to her side. Matt continued to slumber.
The woman sat up, accessing the raw code of the data disc and not just the easily deciphered ship
logs. There was something under the surface, a final mystery that wouldn’t let her sleep until solved.
Blinking hard and willing herself to persevere, Kyndi Jane McCaskill delved into the labyrinthine code of
the ship’s datacore, chipping away at the digital wall piece by piece.
I’ve come this far for answers, s​ he thought. ​And I’ll be damned if I sully my parents’ memory by
turning back now.