The backdrop of stars pinwheeled outside the Rev-C's bubble canopy, like a time-lapse shot of an observatory on those Earthly Summers holodiscs. Ten meters long and weighing in at a little over 3,000 kg dryweight, the Orion Revision-C Centurion was little more than a rocket with a harness and a couple of blasters strapped to the bottom, and that was just the way Mara liked it.

The brainchild of the son of an Orion Heavy Manufacturing executive that normally specialized in asteroid mining, the Rev-C didn't waste any space on peripherals. Orion prided themselves in being best at what they did, and what the Rev-C lacked in armor or cargo it more than made up for in acceleration. Shaped like an arrow, the Rev-C could out-fly just about anything else around.

Perched at the front of the craft inside the bubble canopy, Mara was feeling one with the universe. Her hands rested on the dual console pads, fingers twitching almost imperceptibly, rapidly sending hundreds of tiny electrical signals to the Rev-C's flight thrusters. The consoles could sense response at the neural level, blurring the line between woman and machine. The interface at Mara's forehead was like a third eye, providing feedback from the craft's sensors in a data storm that could only be processed by instinct. The Itani specialized in this kind of training, and remote as Helios III was, Mara had met a few.

A flechette cannon unfolded from the side of Mara's quarry and fired a burst in her direction. Mara dodged down, the red hot lead burning meters past the vismetal canopy. The Rev-C's positron blaster spoke in return, sending a series of plasma bolts glowing ultraviolet with radiation into the rampant guardian bot's side.

Mara grimaced, the fact that guardian bots were showing up here was not a good sign... rampant guardian bots, Mara corrected herself; It meant that the Hive was getting more agressive, risking forays into hostile terriroty. All Hive was rampant, that was what they taught you in pilot school. They were first created by humans to make life easier in exile, after all. This bot was originially designed and manufactured by Aputech, a long extinct company. The Hive had since gone through many revisions of its own over hundreds of years, borrowing and integrating human designs as it saw fit. The guardian was a mechanical revenant, a walking ghost of the past.

"Damn you're ugly" Mara muttered as she lined up another shot on the Hive bot, scoring a hit. The guardian merely continued to buzz and chirp to itself, happily calculating the most effecient way to obliterate Mara's craft. As the bot fired burst after burst of flechette rounds, Mara edged closer in a complex series of evasive jinks. It was like nanosecond fencing, reaction versus programming. The guardian and the Rev-C's dance drifted closer to a gracefully rotating asteroid, still warm at 133 Kelvin where Mara's wingmate had been mining moments earlier.

Finally Mara got the shot she wanted, and her left ringfinger twitched. A series of magnetic coils were inducted with current, and the rail gun mounted on the Rev-C's left port sent a Xithricite pellet streaking into the guardian's dull grey sensor array. Blinded, the guardian began to spin around wildly, firing flechette rounds in every direction. Mara moved in closer, positron blaster snarling, and summarily dissassembled the Hive bot.

Mara exhaled as the Rev-C flew through the expanding cloud of burning debris and disengaged her hands from the consoles.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that" Mara said, speaking into her comm.

"Takes a while, kid. You did good." A Tunguska Marauder joined Mara's side. "Besides, I was waiting to jump in at any moment."

"Yeah, whatever" Mara said brushing a strand of brown hair away from her eyes, a little miffed at being called 'kid' by her classmate even though he was two years older. "Let's just get this ore back to Helios III station in one piece."

As the lobster-like Marauder drifted past the Rev-C's canopy, Mara could see Tel grinning behind the vismetal of his own cockpit. "Ladies first" his voice crackled from across the brief expanse of absolute zero.

"You know, I think that guardian bot was the prettiest thing I looked at all day" Mara commented, and turning her Rev-C on its tail, boosted out of the asteroid field.

"Hey, wait up!" Tel indignantly protested, and began his own acceleration burn, Marauder dragging a chain of crates full of ferric and heliocene ore behind it.

The engine lights from the two craft slowly grew to points and then winked out, leaving behind the ocean of of rock and ice that made up the thin banded rings of Helios III. When all was still two smaller Hive collector bots cautiously approached the wreckage of the guardian, chirping inquisitively, sensors turned toward the distant wake of the retreating human craft.

{ { { { < < < < - - - - - - - - - -

While her engines cooled in the hangar, Mara walked casually through the commercial district of Helios III station. Neon signs buzzed everywhere, adding to the clatter of voices and footsteps that echoed down the terraced streets and atriums. Figures small and tall brushed past unnoticed, some on their way to shops or buisinesses, some surfing the station net on their eyepieces. Although space was at a premium the Helios III station commercial district could have easily belonged in a homeworld system.

Helios was a massive red star with a couple of orbiting gas giants and lightly populated stations. Left in the wake of the UIT's secession from the Serco nation, Helios had been largely devoid of human settlements until recently. Now Helios' economy was mainly driven by valuable deposits of heliocene ore discovered in some of the abundant asteroid fields. Life was tough, but the payoff of finding a new asteroid studded with heliocene minerals made it worthwhile. Nonetheless, Serco law had a tough time keeping up with the burgeoning economy and all the corruption that went with it.

Mara carried a replica of an old Earth .38 revolver strapped around her hip, the model just as reliable today as it was twenty centuries ago. Ammo was somewhat rare, but nothing a halfway decent Microtech Replicator couldn't cook up with a little carbonic ore. Mara had never had cause to use the gun, but a busy commercial district in a backwater station could be a dangerous place. Just the other day a couple of Serco dock workers had gone missing, a husband and wife; It was all over the local station net. As far as Mara was concerned, she would rather carry the weapon and not need it than the other way around. Not that she didn't know how to use one; Mara was a crackshot at the local holo simulator, her initials all over the high scores.

The fact that she worked for the station's owners also gave Mara some leeway in her choice of arms. Young as she was, Mara had been hired by the Aeolus Trading Prefectorate as a freelance escort. Working around her Pilot School classes, Mara protected various mining and trade interests throughout the Helios system. Ytello Yomor, 'Tel', was a classmate and often a coworker as he had shown some proficiency in mineral prospecting, a kind of friend of convenience as Mara couldn't help but run into him every other day. He got on her nerves sometimes but he had been her first friend when Mara arrived in Helios III, and for that he was tolerated. Tel knew a thing or two, Mara had to admit he was at times both a mentor and a friend.

As Mara walked past a shop selling piping hot noodles to street customers, she noticed a kid dressed in dirty shorts and a t-shirt playing with a toy paper Vulture beneath the counter. Ordinarily Mara would have passed by along with the rest of the crowd assuming he was a local street urchin, but something about the kid caught her eye.

Slowly Mara approached, crouching down next to him. "Whatch'ya got there?" she asked amicably.

The kid looked up briefly, and Mara realized what it was she had noticed. His eyes were modded, just like her own. Thin lines of surgically implanted silicon semiconductors criss-crossed the striking blue irises, pupils dilating as they looked through her, seeing what normal humans could not. Infrared? UV? X-ray? E&M? It was hard to tell, the surgeons really had done a top-notch job. He was young, so small for that kind of procedure. Mara reached forward and ruffled the boy's blonde hair, showing a rare smile.

"Wanna show me that toy Vulture? Did you make it?"

The kid shyly looked down again and continued turning the paper Vulture over and over. Then he opened his palm and to Mara's surprise the Vulture began to float a couple of inches above his hand.

"It's not a Vulture" the kid said finally. He was a little older than she expected. "It's an Infiltrator."

"What's an Infiltrator?" Mara asked kindly, wondering how a kid got his hands on grav-tech like that.

"They look like us... the act like us..." the kid continued with a far off expression "but they're all hollow inside."

"Ja-nen" came a voice from over the counter in a thick Xang Xi accent "don't talk to strangers. Come inside!"

The kid glanced at Mara one last time. The paper Vulture was back in his hand, giving no indication it had been floating moments earlier.

"Wait," Mara said, but the kid got up and scampered off around the back of the block the shop was located in. Mara rose to her feet and saw the owner of the voice was an elder Itani dressed in a white chef's outfit, juggling a wok of soft noodles and spices over an open flame. A flashing neon sign above the shop window advertised the place in Galactic Trade Standard, a row of mostly empty bar stools lined the street in front of the counter. Mara took a seat.

"You are a little young to carry a gun, aren't you?" the man continued without looking up.

"Old enough to know how to use it" Mara shot back. "I'll have some noodles, please."

The man nodded and continued stirring. "You are in commerce school?" he asked after a minute.

"Pilot school" Mara answered "I'm Combat Level 5 already. That kid, Ja-nen, right? Is he yours?" He didn't look Itani, Mara thought to herself, if anything she would have guessed Serco with those eye mods.

The chef did not reply, but continued cooking. Another patron at the bar turned a half interested ear.

"Hey" Mara pressed "I asked..."

"He should not speak to strangers." The man cut her off, the statement carrying a tone of finality.

Mara thought about arguing but realized it would probably get her nowhere. She could try to pull weight by saying she worked for Aeolus, but that would draw unecessary attention to herself in a busy district. Authority was a double-edged blade on Helios III station; you could make things happen, and things could happen to you.

Tel's icon flashed on Mara's eyepiece, interrupting her train of thought.

Where are you? Dr. Kant wanted to see both of us before class remember?

Mara breathed a silent curse. As much as she hated being stumped, the problem with the mysterious kid would have to wait.

I forgot she wrote back, I'm on my way from the commercial district.

You'll never make it in time Tel wrote, He's going to kick your butt. Don't worry, I already told him all the good parts, how I saved you from the evil guardian bot.

Finished cooking, the chef lifted the wok from the burner with a couple goodbye stirs and used a long synthwood ladle to shovel a helping into a small to-go box. Placing a pair of chopsticks in the box, he handed these to Mara. Mara pressed her thumb on the countertop, paying for her food.

Ha! Like anyone would believe that. Mara wrote as she jogged down the street, eating her noodles See you in class.

Interesting. I'll be reading the sequels.

Commander Khan leaned back against to cold sand dune and imagined his bloodstream reduced to a string of 1's and 0's. Nerve damage was always a concern when running this program, extended play periods could leave one exhausted and unable to sleep. Nonetheless it was a standard for Serco ground troops, rudder, they called it. Rudder for the color, and for something to steer by.

The tide of the war had changed, the Itani pushed back to the heart of their own territory. The Guise had been triggered, assassinations made in key locations. Now there were only a few domed cities left, the others razed to the ground. There would be no surrender, the Triumverate were bent on repaying the Itani in kind with nothing short of genocide.

"Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven"

"What was that commander?"

"Nothing... an Old Earth saying"

There was a rush of wind as a flight of Nighthawks swooped low overhead, shadows on the strange constellations. The dunes rained sand down on the company of soldiers.

Hourglass

Commander Khan was on a special mission. Serco High Command had won the upper hand through treachery, yes, but conventional wisdom ran that the Itani were up to some treachery of their own. How much the Triumverate knew was uncertain, but they were evidently reluctant to crush the last few strongholds of the Itani. They were waiting, planning, watching.

Khan was supposed to help with the watching part. Tonight something was different.

Communications come through on encrypted channels, a general whose name Khan had never heard of listed off a series of short, direct objectives.

*De-activate New Cairo's perimeter

*Wait in position for a mobile bioweapon drop

The first was a task for the ghosts... invisible soldiers whose very existence was a rumor to everyone outside the force. The second was tricky. Bioweapons had a nasty habit of turning against those who used them, and the results weren't pretty. Commander Khan had to wonder how much the general had the welfare of the soldiers in mind, and how much his own place in the closing chapters of the Itani war.

The arrival of the Nighthawks meant the drop was close.

The cool blue hologram rotated slowly, hypnotising the students of New Academy. "You don't actually believe this shit do you?" Tel wrote, a rare exclamation triggering psyche networks across Helios III.

"Well, whatever" Mara answered "we have to believe, don't we?". It was true. Anyone who manifested a thought against Aeolus was put on a watch list. This could mean denial of future studies, relegation to third class, it would change her life. As much as the 'fuck the police' attitude got her, it only lasted so far in a corner cell on Corvus Prime.

All that was left was artistic interpretation. School papers on a principal's desk. That was why tonight was important. Skill attracted attention. Attention had many outcomes. Dr. Kant was an ally, for the time being.