Clang.

  The dagger bounced off a pike and skittered across the floor. A severed limb lay motionless nearby, blood pooling fast. Amon’s strike had almost cleaved the ferocious pirate in two.

  The axe blade had taken the pirate's arm clean off just under the elbow when she desperately tried to defend herself. It was now lodged deep between her ribs.

  Amon's body shuddered like two tectonic plates grinding against each other. He looked down— the pirate’s second dagger jutted from his gut, blood oozing out. A low, wheezing moan escaped past his lips.

  The pirate coughed violently, blood bubbling from her mouth and spilling over her chin. Her lungs were punctured. With a final ragged gurggle coming, she collapsed unceremoniously to the ground.

  Amon followed moments later, crashing hard onto the cold surface of the floor. Above him, the ceiling stretched endlessly as he tried unsuccessfully to focus his sight. The suppressed pain like echoes through thick walls flared in numbing, sweaty waves encompassing his body as his blood pressure failed to stabilize. His scrambled thoughts tried to rally to no avail.

  His world blurred. Even the sound of the pirate’s raspy breathing faded in the background.

  At some point, he thought he saw and felt hands lifting him off the ground. Between his swimming consciousness and the encroaching darkness, the nothingness took him in a cold embrace.

  When he came to, he was lying in a bed, hugged by soft sheets and the heavy smell of antiseptic in the air. An unfamiliar machine with several wires connected to his body beeped merrily on one side; On the other, sitting on a chair by the bed, was Ella. Her head was cradled in her hands.

  His weak attempt to say something ended with only a rough croak escaping his lips. Nevertheless, the sound attracted Ella’s attention, who immediately jolted to wakefulness.

  “Amon? You’re awake?” she gasped, taking one of his hands in her warm palms. Their touch was so soft and comforting. “Here, have some water,” she offered, placing a half-filled cup to his lips.

  After gulping a sip to wet his throat, he coughed and tried again. “The duel---what happened?” he asked huskily. His throat was parched; he must have been out for some time.

  “Not now. Rest first,” she said, brushing hair from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got tossed into a black hole, then chewed up by a Zith colony... Where are we?”

  “Still near the arena. This is the infirmary. You remember the fight?”

  Amon nodded slightly.

  “She’s here too—the pirate. Unconscious, in a critical condition at the other end of the ward.”

  “So…we won?” He asked with hope.

  “About that…” Ella hesitated, fidgeting with his thumb.

  “Ella?”

  “Our Commander’s furious. He is still arguing with the pirates. I believe. They say it was a draw—even when you clearly collapsed after her,” her voice hardened, throwing a glare aimed toward the far wall.

  “So it was all for nothing,” Amon muttered bitterly. He had put his life on the line to be met with what appeared to be a technicality. The pirates didn’t like losing.

  “No, not for nothing. Amon. You were amazing. You saved 16 Marines—they are already inside Concordia GG briefing the Captain. But please...” Her voice broke slightly. “Don’t ever do that again.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You scared me. You scared all of us.”

  “But the rest...” He trailed off, unable to put into words the hollow ache that twisted and turned inside his gut that had nothing to do with the dagger’s injury.

  “Amon, listen. You did enough, let the Captain decide what happens next,” she told him gently.

  They both knew about the Captain’s priorities, not to mention how askew his loyalties were.

  But maybe this was what he needed to hear. Until he got better, at least, and could think of a better course of action. “Alright–” he murmured with a faint smile.

  “Now, when you feel well enough, I’ll message Commander Jin, and we will escort you back to the Dreadnought. Everyone else is already onboard.”

  Amon lifted a hand and gently prodded at his abdomen. There was no stinging pain coursing from his wound anymore, just a general feeling of wrongness. His nanomites had already done a lot of work to repair the damage.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Hmm, let me check, maybe five hours?” Ella replied after glancing at her HUD. “But you don’t need to rush right now, hear me? Rest first. You just woke up. Do you need anything? I’ll bring it to you.”

  “I’m fine, Ella, thanks. Just need time to process everything and for the nanos to get me back on my feet.”

  The machine beeped in agreement, tracking his elevated heart rate. The ceiling lights were uncomfortably white, and Amon turned his head to inspect the room instead. A plasticated divider blocked most of the view from where he lay, but he still spotted a few unoccupied beds across the room.

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  A general hum of electronic activity mimicking the machine beside him radiated around them.

  He took a deep breath to clear his head, and Ella looked at him with concern.

  “Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” She asked him.

  “No, not so much anymore. I heal rather fast.” Amon replied with a grin.

  “You know who doesn’t heal fast? The dead, asshole,” she said sharply, accompanying her words with a jab on his shoulder.

  “Hey, I’m trying to heal here, don’t stab me,” he joked, and her smile flickered only to be replaced by her narrowing eyes as a thought occurred.

  “Don’t give me ideas…” she paused momentarily, turning serious, “---there are some rumors from the captives. Something about a war raging in the nearby systems.” Ella leaned closer. “The name Nevarians was mentioned…” she whispered.

  Amon’s eyes sharpened. “What did you hear?”

  “Well, nothing too certain, but the pirates that captured the fleet were either allied or in contact with a faction called ‘Nevarians’. It wasn’t very clear. The Marines heard about a warlord in that faction waging a war, capturing starbases and subjugating planets at a frightening speed. And he uses slaves to man his assaults. It’s assumed that most of the fleet was sold to him, ships and crew…”

  “Shit. That’s definitely bad. Where does Hic’Evol stand in all this?” Amon asked, only for Ella to shrug her shoulders in ignorance.

  “We'd better get moving, then. Let’s not give the pirates any opportunity to jump us. I’m informing the Commander.”

  With Ella’s help, Amon rose slowly, disengaging the machine’s wires and onto his unsteady feet. After putting on his biosuit, they were off.

  Nobody stopped them as they made their way out of the infirmary and into the bustling 31st floor. Soon after, Commander Jin joined them in a grave mood.

  “Sergeant, how do you feel?” Commander Jin asked.

  “Functional,” Amon replied, walking in slow, controlled steps. “How did it go with the pirates, Sir?”

  The Commander's scowl deepened. “As you would expect. But that is the least of our worries—” He paused, glancing cautiously at Ella trailing a step behind them.

  “It’s alright, Commander, she is one of our group,” Amon assured him.

  Commander Jin nodded. “The Nevarias are a much bigger threat than we believed.”

  “How so, Commander?”

  “Apparently, they wiped out the majority of the Free Federation of Kiaris. The station manager we met was all that was left of the AI civilization. Honestly I shouldn’t complain with the damned AI almost gone yet even the Slave leader, the cyborg, has reservations about them and is too eager to throw his allies under.”

  “Didn’t they sell our Marines and the fleet to them?” Amon asked, perplexed.

  “Yes, void take them. But that's business, profit and caution don’t go hand in hand in this universe.”

  “So what now?” Amon asked. “The Captain’s compromised either way.”

  Commander Jin’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, what we are going to do is this…”

  —-

  The Dreadnought’s corridors received them in silence. No salutes, no words—just the soft hum of engines and the hurried steps of crew members with their heads down. News of the captives had spread through Concordia GG like a meteor shower across a clear sky—sudden, bright, impossible to ignore.

  The Commander departed shortly after they boarded, leaving Amon and Ella to navigate their way to the company’s cabin quarters. First order of business: regroup with their team.

  They found Tommy sprawled on his bunk, though it was obvious he hadn’t been resting. The moment they entered, he shot upright like a spring under pressure.

  “Amon!” He rushed in, pulling him into a tight hug. Amon staggered, gritting his teeth under the force.

  “Hey, easy there,” Ella called out from behind. “Our big guy’s a little delicate right now.”

  Tommy froze, then grinned. “He always was the delicate one—I’ve been saying it for years.”

  Amon exhaled hard. “Give me a few hours and I’ll show you delicate, Toms.”

  “Oh, is that a threat?” Tommy smirked. “Glad to see you didn’t hit your head. That dumb grin tells me all I need to know.” Then he turned to Ella. “How’s he really doing?”

  Amon rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’ve got things to do besides fuss over me.”

  “He’s right,” Ella said, her tone sharpening. “We need to call the others.”

  Tommy groaned. “Can we skip Jackey? He’s more dead weight than help.”

  Amon clapped him lightly on the back. “Be nice.”

  “Fine, fine. I’ll get everyone.” Tommy sighed and slipped out the door.

  It didn’t take long to gather the team. The cabin was cramped, but they’d chosen it for a reason—no surveillance, no prying ears from crew or other Marines. What they needed to discuss required privacy.

  Amon sat awkwardly in the room’s only chair, shifting to keep his left leg from going numb. Ella and Tommy perched on the upper bunk, their legs swinging. Jackey leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, while Gardenia hovered near the center of the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Fido, the youngest of them, had claimed the lower bunk, his personal space under siege by Tommy’s dangling feet.

  Fido had joined the crew only recently. He stuck close to Jackey, not just because they were bunkmates, but because both hailed from Poline—a seed planet in Cerebrus’ second system.

  Amon winced, though not from discomfort. The real pain came from the memory of his talk with Commander Jin—and the impossible choice he had laid at his feet.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly,” Amon began, scanning the faces of his friends. “We’ve got a decision to make.”

  “Spill it, big guy. We don’t have all day,” Tommy heckled, kicking lightly at Fido’s head.

  Ella elbowed him. “Don’t be a pain.”

  “Ughhh, that hurt,” Tommy grunted.

  Jackey chuckled under his breath at their antics while Gardenia stared nervously.

  Amon managed a tight smile. “Right. So—I spoke with Commander Jin. And, well… we’re being offered a way out.”

  The words left a bitter taste. Even now, he wasn’t sure he believed in the path they were considering. Leaving the rest of the Marines behind? Pretending they didn’t know a Nevarian was at the helm of this ship?

  It gnawed at him.

  But what was the alternative? Expose the Captain and risk setting off a storm that could swallow everyone he cared about? They were no longer inside the safety of their hub. This was enemy territory.

  This wasn’t a decision to make alone. The Commander had a plan—an escape. It was vague, flexible, and dangerous. But if they agreed to it, it could work. Disappear into the chaos of the moon city and find a way out. They would be untraceable by any SFC officer's surveillance. A few Marines missing wouldn’t be a priority, as well—not in the grand mess Concordia GG’s high command had found itself.

  And not everyone on this ship was loyal to the Nevarian Captain and his friends.

  “So,” Amon said, eyes landing on each of them. “What do you all think?”