I sat on the edge of my bunk, elbows on knees, staring at the deck plating. Just waiting. Waiting for a mission I didn’t want. The images from that place—still burned behind my eyes. The screams. The things that used to be people.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I flinched, looked up. Gina stood in the doorway.

  “Boss, they’re on the bridge right now. Briefing’s starting.”

  “Okay.”

  I grabbed my coat and headed out.

  The bridge was packed. At least twenty-eight

  Dead Men stood shoulder to shoulder; the rest of the crew were below decks prepping gear and weapons. Jerry waited at the center of the holographic table, the blue glow lighting his face. The room went quiet as I entered.

  Gina snapped to attention. “Ten-hut!”

  The men straightened instantly.

  I waved a hand. “As you were. No need for the formal shit.”

  Laughter rippled through the group, loosening the tension.

  One of the Deadmen—Malone—leaned forward. “So what’s the game plan, boss?”

  I took a long breath, then let it out. “Nothing. Sorry. I’ve got nothing.”

  A murmur ran through the room. Confusion. Disbelief.

  Jerry stepped in smoothly. “I’ve got this.” He tapped the holo-table; a map of the capital sprawled across it. “At exactly 1200 hours, Lady Faye Tassle will be executed by hanging on the public gallows. Three thousand Union spectators. Our primary objective: rescue her.”

  A young Deadman—Tony—shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that hard.”

  I shot him a look. He was too new. He hadn’t seen what waited in the shadows of that city.

  Jerry smirked. “Easy? Marcus added what he calls a ‘side quest.’” He glanced at me. “Facility 64. Another data recovery op. High priority.”

  Gina’s eyebrows shot up. “Facility 64?”

  I cut in before anyone else could speak. “I’ll take the facility.”

  Jerry studied me for a long second. “You sure, bro? That’s the place.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  Jerry nodded slowly. “Alright. Then Gina, you lead the Faye rescue.”

  Gina planted her hands on her hips. “What? I don’t want to save that bitch.”

  “Ooooooh, jealous!” someone called from the back.

  Laughter erupted again.

  Jerry raised a hand. “Enough. Gina, you’re on Faye. Whether you like it or not.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Jerry zoomed in on the map. “Here’s how we do this.”

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Two teams. Two operations.

  Operation Faye — ten Deadmen led by Gina. Dressed in plain Union grey civilian clothes, bone-conduction comms hidden behind their ears. No guns, no armor. Harvey had already hacked the Union citizen registry, assigned them clean identities, and burned temporary wrist tattoos with valid codes. They would blend into the crowd like any other spectators.

  Operation 64 — just three of us. Marcus’s explicit order: small footprint. Me, Malone, and the kid, Tony. We boarded one of the cloaked Dragonflies and hovered thirty-five kilometers east, above a crumbling coastal seawall near Facility 64.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Our new gear—Marcus’s latest “gifts”—was Empire-blue exoshell armor. Electro-kinetic actuators made us ten times faster and stronger. The helmets were bulky but weighed almost nothing. Built-in AI assistants. But no WiFi. Boo hoo.

  Tony stared at the blue plating on his forearm. “Are we… siding with the Empire now, sir?”

  I kept my eyes on the horizon. “Just this once, kid. Just this once.”

  We waited.

  1130 hours.

  The tall building doors opened. Ten armored guards marched out, followed by two men in suits dragging Faye between them. Her eyes were swollen, face streaked with tears. “Please… I don’t want to die…”

  The crowd exploded. “Hang the traitor! Hang the traitor!”

  Gina’s voice whispered over comms, calm and low. “Package on site. Five heavies left, five right.”

  Faye was forced up the steps. The noose dropped over her head.

  Silence fell like a blade.

  Then Marcus’s voice crackled over the line, cheerful as ever. “Good luck, boys!”

  “Fuck you, Marcus,” I growled.

  He just laughed.

  The Revenge uncloaked off the south seawall, swung her broadside, and lit up. All twelve ion turrets screamed to life. Bzzzzemmmm—BRRRRR—BOOOOM! The recoil shoved the ship sideways; chunks of seawall disintegrated like wet sand.

  Gina yanked a slim metal tube from her pocket, thumbed the button. A brilliant blue blade snapped out—another of Marcus’s ridiculous nerdy toys. She carved through the five guards on her side in three clean strokes. Other Dead Men mirrored her on the right. Guards dropped.

  Alarms wailed. Sirens. Panic.

  More guards poured from the building—twenty, forty, sixty, a hundred. Dead Men faced before they could shoot.

  Gina vaulted onto the gallows platform, slicing the two men holding Faye. “We need backup!”

  “Phoenix inbound!” Jerry called.

  Twenty Phoenix drones streaked in, silent magnetic rifles spitting needle-thin rounds. No muzzle flash. No sound. Just guards crumpling, armor pierced clean through.

  Snake-like tethers shot down from the cloaked Dragonfly overhead, locking onto belts. Gina grabbed Faye. “Hold on, princess.”

  Zwoooop!

  The entire Faye team vanished upward into the bay.

  The first ion barrage was our signal.

  Our Dragonfly darted forward, uncloaked only long enough to drop us onto Facility 64’s roof.

  “Visors down.”

  Skull-and-crossbones insignias glowed faintly on our faceplates.

  Malone slapped a breaching cylinder onto the concrete. Acid hissed, ate through steel rebar in seconds. We dropped inside.

  Heart hammering. Memories clawing back. I forced myself to look straight ahead.

  Alarms blared across the facility. “All forces to the capital grounds! We’re under attack! Technical staff evacuate immediately!”

  Tony grinned. “Plan’s working. This is gonna be easy.”

  “Don’t jinx it, kid.”

  Harvey guided us through corridors to the memory core—and past the holding chambers.

  I kept my eyes forward. Tony didn’t.

  “What the hell…”

  He froze. “What are those?”

  I turned back. Tony stood transfixed in front of a tank. Inside: a woman, skin slate-gray, eyes glowing yellow, arms scaled, webbed claws, mouth lined with teeth.

  She pressed a palm to the glass. “Please… help…”

  I grabbed Tony’s shoulder, yanked him away.

  “Move.”

  Malone’s voice was tight. “Boss… is there anything we can do for them?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  We pushed on. Guards rounded corners; we cut them down. Surveillance cameras sparked and died under our fire.

  At the core I slotted the chip. Download began.

  Guards closed in. We held the choke point, armor shrugging off bullets.

  Download complete.

  “Time to go.”

  Tony hesitated at the chamber hallway. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  Malone and I exchanged a glance. Malone nodded.

  I keyed the radio. “Harvey, you rat bastard, we’re exfiling through the front.”

  “What? …Okay. Opening main doors.”

  The blast doors groaned apart. Union guards poured in, rifles blazing. Bullets sparked harmlessly off Marcus’s exoshells. We answered with precise bursts. Bodies hit the floor.

  “Jerry, front entrance.”

  “Phoenix covering you. Get out.”

  Tethers dropped. We locked in. Dragonfly yanked us skyward as Union aircraft screamed in. Five Phoenixes intercepted, tearing them apart. We leave.

  Moments later, St. Francis' Revenge is on sight, docking bay opened.

  We boarded. The bay doors sealed. Faye’s team was already aboard the Revenge.

  Union air wings swarmed, firing wildly.

  Revenge’s point defenses answered. Enemy craft fell like rain.

  On the bridge: “Jump charged, Admiral!”

  “Punch it.”

  Zooooom.

  Reality folded. We emerged in calm imperial waters.

  An Imperial chopper just landed on the deck.

  Faye’s team comes up first to the ship's landing deck through the elevator bay.

  Then us.

  Marcus rolled out from the Imperial chopper, face unusually serious—almost worried.

  Faye ran to him, buried her face in his chest.

  “Thank you…”

  “You’re safe now.” Marcus whispered to her.

  Gina caught my eye, gave a small smile and nod.

  Faye turned, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around me. Memories flashed—sharp, painful, warm.

  I held her for a moment. When I looked up, Gina stood with arms crossed, still smiling.

  Faye pulled back first. “Thank you.”

  I nodded once.

  Then I faced Marcus, came to attention, and snapped a crisp salute.

  “Mission accomplished, sir.”

  I handed him the chip.

  He took it, grinned that old Marcus grin. “Thank you, Cho. As always.”

  I turned and walked away.

  No words. No banter. No jokes.

  I just needed to be alone for a while.