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  He looked in the same direction. “Yeah. Not without losses.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  May 22, 2230, Edge of Solar System, Cargo Bay of the Bifröst

  Standing in the cargo bay, Erik regretted not having anything nicer to wear, but none of the surviving soldiers had brought along their dress uniforms.

  Everyone still alive on the ship stood in the cargo bay, watching him expectantly. Lanara, Raphael, and Emma had been working for the last couple of days to repair the ship. Raphael was now confident they could jump back.

  The scars of the battle were obvious in the cargo bay, including emergency patches placed over the seals from the battle and damaged exos and vehicles.

  Erik would have preferred to have their ceremony in a different room, but this was the best place to accommodate all of the people aboard. The designers of the jumpship had never considered that someone might want to give an in-person speech to everybody aboard.

  Not that the Fleet was much better about that. Typically, big speeches on Fleet ships were held in fighter bays.

  Erik had spent a lot of time considering what Alina and the government brass might be thinking since the battle. They had no easy way of instantly verifying the jump had been successful, let alone the mission.

  But Alina and the military wouldn’t have sent them across the Solar System with an expensive experimental drive if they’d expected them to fail. Erik’s and Jia’s previous successes were the reason they’d ended up with the ship.

  Erik hadn’t bothered sending a message back to Penglai. The ship could jump back to the base before it would even arrive. Any assets tasked to observe the target location would see the battle, but only after days of delay as the light made its way across the Solar System.

  The fantastic propulsion advances achieved through reverse-engineering Navigator technology hadn’t been matched by advances in communication, other than sending messages through HTPs, but that still didn’t allow the transmissions to be FTL once in-system.

  But there was something more important Erik wanted to take care of before they jumped back, something he owed.

  After a brief discussion, the team had decided to keep the bodies aboard so they could be returned to their families. Not everyone wanted a space burial, but the dead deserved some words—not only Cutter and the fallen soldiers recovered from the Hunter ship but also those who hadn’t made it back, including Captain Osei and Corporal Milton.

  Erik straightened his back and focused on the crowd inside the cargo bay. “This isn’t going to be a big formal ceremony, and I don’t have the knowledge or authority for proper ceremonies for everyone’s background. I figure everyone will get that from the Army when we get back to Earth, but I also think those who gave their lives deserved to be acknowledged right here, right now in the shadow of the battle against an enemy none of us could ever have anticipated or even imagined.”

  The gathered soldiers nodded. Lanara stood somberly off to the side near a sniffling Raphael. Jia offered Erik a comforting smile. Emma was no doubt listening, but she chose not to manifest holographically.

  He was no stranger to death, which was why he understood how important rituals like this were. If this was a battle in war, it’d be considered an outstanding win, with a small number of assault infantry and a pilot traded for an entire enemy capital ship.

  That thought didn’t comfort him.

  “Every man and woman who puts on the uniform understands what it means and the risk it entails.” Erik raised his voice. “But this isn’t just about all the soldiers who sacrificed their lives on that Hunter ship. This is also about Cutter Durn, whose skills kept us from dying. You all know how much damage this ship took, but at least we’re still here, breathing and able to grieve.”

  Murmurs of appreciation spread through the small crowd, along with nodding acknowledgments. Erik and Jia had already passed on everything that had happened to the surviving soldiers. They deserved to have the big picture after being so close to death.

  “We should remember what they sacrificed their lives for, and what we accomplished in these last few days.” Erik frowned. “Which was nothing sort of a miracle.”

  The soldiers watched with rapt attention.

  “This wasn’t just an anti-insurgent raid or a handful of idiot terrorists, or even a border skirmish against space raptors who don’t know how to mind their own business,” Erik continued. “We faced off against deadly and dangerous technology from a race who had space travel before we had civilization—the most dangerous race in the galaxy.”

  He swept the crowd with his gaze. “We took our hits and lost good people, but we stayed true to our training and loyalty and one another. We beat the Hunters back and protected not only our lives but also our home planet and our species. We can’t choose how we’ll die, but we do choose how we live, and if we make the right choices, when we die, it won’t be a waste. Just like it wasn’t for Captain Osei and your fellow soldiers.”

  Erik waited, letting his words sink into the crowd. Some of the soldiers looked angry, others sad. He understood their feelings. He’d been there countless times, let alone after Molino. After a while, losing people became familiar.

  He could only hope it never became easier.

  “And it’s certainly not a waste to lay down your life to defend humanity from all enemies, human and inhuman,” Erik continued. “Now, let us remember those we have lost.”

  Thirty minutes later, Erik leaned against the cargo bay wall, one leg up. The soldiers chatted quietly among themselves. Most had come over to thank him for his leadership and words. There was no pattern. Some of the younger soldiers seemed unfazed, while grizzled NCOs came off as shellshocked.

  Jia walked up to Erik with a soft smile. “This mission was different.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” he agreed.

  “The conspiracy miscalculated,” Jia continued. “In many ways. If we hadn’t been here, that ship would have been able to repair itself, and we both know how that would have ended.”

  “You don’t need to talk me down, Jia.” Erik nodded at the soldiers. “People die in battle, and now we know about the Hunters.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers beyond. “Do you think there are more ships like that one out there?”

  Erik shrugged. “Who knows? I suspect we will find out the hard way.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “No, no, no,” Julia howled as she read the report. She balled up her fists and pounded them so hard on her table that her plate and bowl of soup rattled. Some of the contents spilled over the lip of the bowl.

  Impossible.

  The word flooded her mind. Minor failures were acceptable, but such a complete reversal on one of her most important plans was unfathomable. This wasn’t a minor low-level operation, but a key component of her long-term strategy.

  Julia took pride in her patience. It was hard to be a member of the Core and not be patient. When she’d set up the mission to send her agents to the comet, she’d known that in the best-case scenario, it would take years to see results. It’d never occurred to her that she’d have nothing to show for it.

  Not even a single artifact.

  Complete, utter failure. The word shame wasn’t adequate for how she felt, but the incandescent rage helped dull the former.

  With a scream, Julia stood and swept her arm across the oak table, knocking her wine glass to the floor. She curled her hands into tight fists until the pain of her nails digging into her palms grounded her back in reality. She stood there, nostrils flared as she sucked in breaths and imagined the deadly revenge she would wreak on everyone who had interfered with her plans.

  How had so many things gone wrong?

  Her analysts were still putting together what had happened at the edge of the Solar System, based on a small number of coded transmissions from her and limited long-range observational data.

  The worst part of the situation was that Sophia was laughing at her f
rom beyond the grave. It was obvious the dead Core founder had been fully aware of the Hunter ship and sent her own people.

  Julia’s team was able to destroy them, but there was evidence of a third ship and a massive explosion.

  But how did Sophia know to send a ship of her own? Julia had learned of the ship through the application of her own artifacts in combination with a mixture of careful xenoarchaeology information of questionable provenance that came from other races. It’d taken unusual cunning, money, patience, and extraordinary resources.

  She didn’t understand how Sophia could have learned about the comet without Julia’s agents becoming aware of it.

  The ship her people had destroyed had clearly identified themselves as Sophia’s agents, but that still didn’t explain the interference at the undersea resort.

  She had her proof. There was someone else in the Core who was a threat.

  The government’s dogs were now sniffing around more than she would have liked, and she suspected they were the third ship. There was only one explanation for how a third ship could have arrived, which was frustrating in its implications.

  “They’ve gotten that damned drive to work,” Julia spat, chest heaving.

  The Core had made a critical error by attempting to seize the drive rather than obliterating the entire facility. She didn’t mourn the loss of the Ascended Brotherhood, but if they’d destroyed the research facility, it would have set the jump drive project back decades.

  They might not have been able to recover from the loss. While it was by no means certain the government’s project would succeed, the Core had coveted the jump drive and the AI navigator for their unique potential.

  The raid hadn’t seemed like a major failure at the time, but no one had anticipated that the government could go so quickly from lab prototype to ship jumping across the Solar System.

  That was how people lost conflicts. Small mistakes compounded into irreversible critical failures. A step in the wrong direction made it impossible to escape fate.

  Julia sank back into her chair, ignoring the spilled wine on the floor, her rage providing a cathartic clarity. Even the Navigators and Hunters hadn’t had time-travel technology. There was nothing that could be done about the past. The only important consideration was how best to handle the future.

  The key to the future was her survival.

  She stared through her window, fixating on the snowcapped mountains. They were ancient, eternal compared to humanity, but even they changed, shaped by the relentless forces of the elements. It was an important reminder. Nothing could escape outside influences.

  The Core had to be like the mountains. They needed to take the long-term view, and as the first among the Core, she would lead them in that.

  If the jump drive had been key to disrupting her operation, she would need to think how best to counter it. It’s very nature provided at least some defense.

  “The drive is experimental and has barely been tested,” Julia murmured. “It has to be unstable or limited in range. Jumping to the edge of the Solar System is one thing, but even jumping to Alpha Proxima involves far greater risk.”

  Her greatest gambit had failed, but that didn’t mean she was defeated. A defensive position might be warranted.

  It was time to leave Earth for a while. The more distance she could put between her and Blackwell and Lin, the less risk she’d personally take. Earth was important to her plans, but not the only part. It was time to pay closer attention to her other projects.

  Julia would lose some power in the Core, but so be it. She’d trade a temporary loss of influence for survival. If she were careful, she could even figure out who her greatest enemy in the Core was.

  “You can’t have me, Last Soldier and Warrior Princess.” Julia grabbed her wrist to still her shaking hand. “Do you hear me? I’m not Sophia. She lost perspective and became static. I will adapt to the situation at hand.”

  The window was closing, but she still had time. She would survive and prosper no matter the sacrifice, whether it be the rest of the Core or an entire world.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  May 30, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the Argo

  Jia stared at the main pilot’s seat in the cockpit of the Argo, her heart heavy.

  She hadn’t known Cutter for very long, but those hours she’d spent next to him in the copilot’s seat had led her to consider him a friend. For all her natural talent, he’d taught her a lot about flying. Even in those last few minutes, she’d picked up techniques on how to maneuver the jumpship in emergency situations.

  Erik’s ceremony on the jumpship had helped push Cutter’s death toward the back of her mind, and she had occupied herself on the long trip back to Earth with piloting simulations. Now that she was back on Earth, there was nowhere to run from her memories and thoughts.

  But that didn’t have to be a bad thing. She could use it to fuel something better and more positive.

  Jia ran her hand over the back of the seat and smiled. “I’ll do my best to become the top pilot in the galaxy. It might sound arrogant, but I’m already halfway there.”

  Her PNIU chimed with a call from Erik. She tapped the PNIU to accept it.

  “Jia,” Erik offered, “we’re ready. We’re just waiting for you.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she replied, casting one last look at the space.

  Jia made her way out of the cockpit and to the galley of the Argo. The ship hadn’t escaped unscathed during the battle, and the occasional loose panel was a reminder that not everything had been fixed.

  Lanara’s immediate efforts in the aftermath in the battle had been focused on the jumpship, and though she’d spent time on the smaller vessel on their return to Earth, she’d spent more time hiding in the engine room than doing much work.

  The Bifröst was currently undergoing repairs at Penglai, despite Alina’s concern about too much military control. Having a genius engineer and a brilliant AI could do wonders to support the vessel without an entire team, but Lanara and Emma couldn’t make up for the large-scale resources necessary to repair the jumpship after suffering such heavy damage.

  Raphael had remained at Penglai to double-check the jump drive.

  Jia had been concerned at first about parking the ship in a military base, especially given the modestly long trip from Earth required to get to Penglai, but the more she thought about it, the less she worried. The mission and tests had proven the ship worked, and the destruction of the Hunter vessel had reinforced that, but without Emma, the jump drive was almost useless.

  It would have been nice for the ship to be stored at a closer location, such as a LaGrange Point, but that would have to wait for the future when the ship hadn’t been half-melted by alien attacks.

  Jia arrived in the galley. Erik, Alina, and Malcolm sat at a table. Emma was there as well, in a simple white dress rather than one of her elaborate costumes. She’d done that less in the last week.

  Perhaps it was her way of mourning.

  Malcolm had done his part to clean up for Erik and Jia while they were off Earth, and although Erik had explained what had happened on the mission, the technician kept glancing at Alina and rubbing his wrists as if afraid she was going to gun him down to keep the government’s secrets.

  Jia couldn’t blame him. A conspiracy of humans was frightening, but not the nightmare fuel of an ancient alien race that could turn you into a monster and flew around in kilometers-wide spaceships.

  Or maybe Malcolm’s reaction was more fundamental: fear.

  He could be worried that what had happened to Cutter would happen to him. Jia wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t want to be involved anymore, despite his self-professed reasoning that it was unlikely they would run into the Hunters again.

  Jia took a seat after offering everyone a polite nod. “Lanara’s not joining us?”

  Alina shook her head. “She’s in a bad mood.”

  “Isn’t she always?” Malcolm
asked.

  “She might not always show it, but she cares about people in her own way,” Alina offered quietly. “She’d worked on and off with Cutter for a couple of years, and she just needs to be given time and space to work through what she’s feeling.”

  “Oh.” Malcolm looked down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

  “No problem.” Alina looked thoughtful. “Dying in a battle against an advanced alien race is the closest any of us will come to dying in an epic battle against ancient gods. It’s tragic, but honorable at the same time. I’ll probably end up assassinated by some corrupt crony of the conspiracy when my back is turned while eating a French fry.”

  “I’d prefer to die in bed surrounded by my grandkids,” Malcolm replied. He shrugged. “If I have to die.”

  Erik cleared his throat. “Not to be a meeting purist, but we aren’t here to talk about that.”

  Alina nodded. “You’re right, we aren’t. I know we could have done some of this over the comm on your way back from Penglai, but I thought, given everything that’s happened, we should do it face to face.” She turned to Malcolm. “I wanted to make sure you’re still interested in helping Erik and Jia. It’s unlikely the next mission will involve the Hunters or the Navigators, but this mission proves that anything could happen out there.” The smile she offered turned ice-cold. “You stay with them and you’ll get a chance to be a hero, but at the same time, your chances of dying old and happy and surrounded by grandkids go down. That’s what it means to work in the shadows.”

  Malcolm swallowed. “I understand, and I’m still in.”

  “Good. We need all the reliable people we can get.” Alina turned to Erik. “Now let’s get down to why we’re here. Slaying gods, fake or otherwise, gets people talking, Perseus. Important people.”

  “Meaning what?” Erik folded his arms. “You can’t seriously be saying I made too much noise.”