As his helmet slowly ticked up the exterior pressure, Kyle studied the contraption before him.

  The escape pod he was looking at was an antique design, over two hundred years old; but a solid and reliable one for all of that. The boxy shape represented a sturdy armored frame, a single door that usually represented its attachment point for the starship it was mounted on, and he could imagine the internal layout without even entering.

  The left and right walls would each have five ‘seats’; a simple tube that could be enclosed after strapping someone in. The person could be frozen; possibly fatally for an unaugmented human; if rescue didn’t seem likely in the immediate future… and the battery would keep the contents frozen for decades; or centuries if there was no outside atmosphere to leech away the internal temperature. Then, facing away from the entrance door, would be a control panel and the storage for emergency supplies… essentially a chest containing tents, rations, energy cells, a flare gun, a laser pistol, various tools…

  This model was still used on many independent and Alliance ships today. Kyle had gone for a nicer, more expensive, model for the Sapper, but… still.

  He heard footsteps behind himself; the loud clanking of the magnets of his personal power-armor walking itself up to him… and took a deep breath… starting to detach himself from his frame.

  “Just in case the marine is in there waiting to attack, I’m armoring up before I cut it open. I want power supply cables run for all of the pods to make sure they stay frozen… we’ll figure out how to handle our living subject once we know the state of him.”

  As the power-armor opened itself up, Kyle detached the final piece of his restrictor frame… and awkwardly turned around, leaving it standing there as he backed into the armor, feeling the connections adhere to his skinsuit, one by one… and then the last connection, as it synced up with his implant.

  He took a deep breath… and checked the atmosphere again. Almost there.

  He stepped up to the outward-facing airlock door… there was a display that should indicate the interior status, but it was cracked and useless… and wrapped an armored gauntlet around the manual release lever.

  A sudden buzz of comms. His HUD displayed ‘Poisseux’.

  ~Captain, we are safely away and in the void. What’s our next destination?~

  “Turn us around and set course for Ash. We’re either going to the Barricade or to the dub naval base there. Most likely, one then the other. And put out an emergency signal to call the Skulls. I’d prefer one of the Huxleys, but honestly just anyone in leadership. Don’t tell them what’s going on, but we’re gonna want to meet them before the dubs.”

  ~Got it. You prefer your mom?~

  Kyle studied the escape pods. “...She might be a little too trigger-happy for this one, though she does know what’s going on already, so I guess. Uncle Steve would a good option, but I’m not going to turn down anybody.”

  ~...Its hilarious to hear anyone call the butcher of Petrov ‘Uncle Steve’. Its… also weird that nobody in your family is in prison, now that I think about it.~

  “Don’t know of any prisons that could hold them. Make the call, please.” He started to slowly pull the lever… as Thor, Sherry, and Elise all backed away. He glanced back. “Just in case, take cover, please.”

  There were answering nods from the girls. Thor grimaced before he dropped behind one of the strapped-down Mars-class drones.

  He slowly brought the lever down all the way; there was an audible creak… and a hiss as atmosphere was sucked into the container.

  He left it in place; giving it about thirty seconds for this hissing to stop as pressure equalized… and then took hold of the door, pulling it open…. To observe the inside.

  Part of it was exactly what he expected. Neat rows of frozen bodies on both sides, the flickering of an overhead light; there were once three, but the other two were either off, or broken.

  A neat bundle of wrappers for ration-bars. The air-tight tents had been adhered to the inside, covering the seams between the three pods after they’d been welded together… and a door had been roughly cut to connect them, with more tents used to wrap it.

  It was old. Improvised. And…

  There was a figure in dirty white armor lying on the far side, helmet cracked, unmoving, head against the far wall.

  “Fuck. Alright, people. Possible spinal injury, doesn’t appear conscious. Grab me a stretcher.”

  The man wasn’t moving at all. On the plus side… his delay in repressurizing probably hadn’t made a difference. The man might have survived decades and awoken to struggle to keep his teammates alive… only to be completely dead, now.

  ***

  With the seemingly unconscious, rather than dead, marine now strapped down in the med-bay, and Elise checking him over, Kyle had swapped back to his regular restrictor frame… and headed back to the bridge, settling in.

  Almost immediately, Poisseux buzzed him. “Got a live one. Its the butcher. He’s only got a few minutes, he’s on the way to intimidate someone or other, but he’s got time for his favorite nephew.”

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  Kyle took a deep breath. “Alright. Put him on.”

  It took barest fractions of a second before the image appeared. His uncle; a massive behemoth of a man, wearing a suit of armor that seemed to be entirely made of human skulls and teeth meshed together… though he knew that wasn’t really the case… leaning forward from his own seat on a bridge dozens of light-years away… or, in Darkspace, likely a vastly shorter distance.

  “Nephew! How’s my little tinkerer doing? Your mother told me you were finally out and about in the galaxy and making troubles for the Empire. And making us money, without even coming back to the fold!”

  He studied the man. Bald, covered in scars, sharpened teeth… the man who had cooked him his first steak went through some effort to maintain a scary look… as if he needed it. His reputation preceded him.

  “Could be much worse, Uncle Steve. Mind if we chat for a bit? Its something… kinda important.”

  The man gave a curt nod. “Of course. Can you tell me here and now, or do you need to follow us?”

  Kyle grimaced. “That depends. Is this connection secure, and do you know what my last mission ended up with? Honestly, I was headed to the dub base at Ash, or the Barricade. Or both.”

  “I know the whole deal. I also know that we’re currently shipping a whole clinic setup to do brain implants on victims into that area, so apparently there’s already more witnesses to deal with. And, well, yeah. We’re about as secure as it gets without being in the same room, so… modest caution.”

  A slow nod. He looked at his uncle’s side… there were a few uniformed Skulls on the bridge, doing their own tasks.. Far less ostentatious uniforms, mostly just bone white in color.

  “...I think I’ve found why the Empire was keeping it secret. And its big. Exactly as big as the reason the first galactic war started. And I’ve only scratched the surface. There might be more.”

  The butcher leaned back in his chair, and started laughing, slapping the armrest of his chair. “Oh, you little fucker! I thought you were going to be bringing back samples of cool aliens to the barbeque and adding to the star catalog. But noo, you’re gonna follow the family tradition. Glad to hear it. So why are you calling me? You taking it to the dubs?”

  Kyle slowly shook his head. “I’m a bit worried. If I deliver the info… and samples.. To the dubs, and explain the whole story, it could be the first galactic war all over again. Everybody against the Empire. And if that happens… the Alliance is gonna be able to grow uncontested for years.”

  A quick nod. “Of course. And the dubs know that. Which means that unless whatever the Empire has been doing is absolutely egregious, they’re not gonna start a war over it.”

  “Did you not catch what I said? Exactly as big as the first galactic war?”

  The butcher shook his head. “What, hiding how FTL really worked, sabotaging FTL drives, and murdering people who found out the truth? Having a long-term plan to conquer the whole galaxy?”

  He focused on Kyle through the screen. “What could possibly be as bad as that?”

  “Having an alternate FTL travel method that doesn’t care about nearby gravity wells and doesn’t need darkmass. And murdering people who even come close to finding the truth.”

  He froze. The butcher just stared at his display for a few seconds. “....How certain of this are you?”

  “I just ran into an alien monster that jumped into FTL from the surface of a planet to ram a different alien monster. When I wounded one of them, it accidentally jumped into a planet’s surface with so much force that it’d have wiped out any inhabited world. And it was living in an ecosystem that included another monster called a ‘Dragon’, which is the one we know the Empire has been keeping secret and actively pursued me for having killed one.”

  “...I knew about the dragons. But…. yeah. Makes perfect sense.” His uncle closed his eyes, and relaxed for a bit, clearly thinking. The way his body went limp, it seemed likely that he’d gone into accelerated time to consider the options.

  When he jerked back up, he gripped both arm-rests. “.... How long will it take you to get to Ash? If I hurry up with this job, I can be there in… six days.”

  “That’d probably beat me there. She’s a bit slow, and I also did a fairly abrupt landing, need to check her over for damage without accelerating for a while.”

  “Good. Me, you, your mom, and probably Admiral Thorn are gonna have a meeting. We need to weigh options, here.”

  Kyle nodded. “I’ve also got a few rescued Alliance personnel, and a couple dozen slaves, with all but one of them frozen; a single alliance marine in my medbay. None with implants.”

  “Oh, an Alliance marine? Give him a job offer, let him know who’s making it. It’ll include free implanting so we can slap some NDA software on it. If he declines, shoot him and space the body. Keep the rest frozen till we get there.”

  “...I’ll extend the job offer. But I’m not gonna shoot him. Maybe… maybe keep him sedated.”

  The butcher sighed. “Boy. Just because genetic augments are illegal doesn’t mean he isn’t something to worry about. Alliance marines go for intensive training and cybernetics. Five’ll get you ten he’s got a reinforced skeleton, enhanced muscles, maybe even implanted weapons, hell, maybe something to clear sedatives out of his blood.”

  Kyle grew slightly irate. He wasn’t calling him ‘boy’ because he was young. He was calling him that because his uncle thought he was soft. Maybe not as bad as his mother, but close. “He doesn’t have implants, though. He’s from like… a couple hundred years ago, at least.”

  “Brain implants are the hardest kind. The very first alliance marines were trained by your grandfather’s crew… and all of those pirates had genetic augments, cybernetic ones, or both. Not many brain implants among them. The only people who could get one cheap back then were literally genetically engineered to make it easier.”

  He shook his head. “You either make sure he’s friendly, or you kill him. Don’t let your feelings get you killed. The whole family has high hopes for you, don’t disappoint. I’ll see you in Ash. Six days and… five hours.”

  “...See you there, uncle Steve.” He sighed, and disconnected.

  He tapped his wrist. “Hey, Elise. Let me know if he wakes up. My uncle wants me to extend a job offer.”

  The response was immediate. ~Should be any second. He wasn’t seriously injured, though he does have a minor concussion.~

  Kyle shook his head, staring at the display where Steve had been moments before. He was Alliance. He had recognized Kyle’s last name immediately, which wasn’t surprising. It likely wouldn’t be an issue to keep him calm until they got to Ash, sedation or not.

  The only problem would be making sure he didn’t call home to the Alliance, while also doing a complete damage control check of the Sapper. That impact just about had to have hurt something, she wasn’t built to land like that.

  “...Hey Barry. I’m gonna go visit our new friend in sick-bay. Mind doing a review of all the security protocols? I don’t want anyone not officially on the crew making any calls, or accessing any systems.”

  Barry blinked. “Not my usual thing, but sure. Gonna keep him prisoner?”

  “...I hope not. Ugh. I almost wish we hadn’t rescued them… or noticed them at all. I’d hate for him to end up imprisoned or dead just because the wrong people rescued him.”