Ascent

**Year: 19 NAC**

A prison under siege

A bounty hunter caught in the middle

The echoes of war linger

## Part 1: Spacewalk

Aerbis of Clan Verbrein waited. The pale Aoshanti dared not to blink or even breathe in the stale air of his ship’s cramped cockpit. Most of the lights were shut off, plunging him into a near-total darkness. His short, panicked breaths rose before his eyes in the cold. Silently, he willed his ship’s systems to come back online, but they did not respond.

Curse the quantum breach drive, he thought. It was every bit a curse as it was a blessing. He didn’t have the time to sit waiting for his engines and systems to recharge. He had a hunter on his tail.

His eyes darted to the other ship, drifting just a short distance from his own vessel. It had appeared from the ether a few moments after him.

He’d seen its like before during the war. Its hull was burnished brass in colour, with dark gunmetal silver lining the engines, gun ports and outer mechanisms. The sleek design indicated it was built for speed, and the weapons attached to its arrow-like frame told him it was a pursuit craft. It was larger than he had expected, somewhere between a heavy fighter and a transport ship.

Only one sort of person flew such a ship. The same sort of person he’d been avoiding for over five years.

When the Ascendancy War had ended, he had been on the losing side. The GCTO, Rhya spit on them all, were rounding up the architects of the war, and anyone who might have had a hand in the Ascendancy’s victories. The GCTO tended to call those “the worst atrocities”.

Aerbis ranked among that number, he was not ashamed to say. Clan Verbrein had always been soldiers. It was in their blood, going back to the founding of the Ascendancy. Long had they served in the Exercitus, and he was no exception. He’d become an officer, and had earned command of a battalion of his own by the time of the war’s outbreak. He’d served on a hundred battlefields, from Naers’i to Genoh, and even fought to the bitter end at the battle of Orbitrium.

Aerbis knew why the bounty hunter had followed him this far. There was a standing bounty on the heads of any Ascendancy officer unaccounted for after Orbitrium. Hunters of all stripes, from freelance nobodies to the Combine rabble, had come after him. He had to abandon everything just to stay alive.

This hunter was merely the next in a long line of scum after his head. Yet another thoughtless drone, a slave of the GCTO who thought of nothing but their next payout. He hated them all. They had no right to take him.

This one had been different, though. Out of all the bounty hunters Aerbis had fled from, this one had come the closest to catching him. They had even managed to track him through hyperspace, a difficult task for any pilot.

Then again, it didn’t count for much. Aerbis had the advantage in this situation. Yes, he couldn’t maneuver or do much of anything, but neither could the hunter. Even better, the hunter had arrived later, so Aerbis’ quantum breach drive would likely recharge before theirs. Once again, he would outrun a bounty hunter, and stay out of the reach of the GCTO.

His own ship was a beaten old personal transport, an obsolete hand-me-down he’d purchased from a trader as he silently passed through Concourse. It was, by no means, the quickest or most heavily-armed ship on the market, but Aerbis was desperate for anything with a quantum breach drive and a life support system at the time. The fact that it had lasted this long in a chase with a professional bounty hunter was nothing short of a miracle.

Something appeared briefly in the corner of his eye, and he gazed back out into the void. There was no sign of any other incoming ships, and they were quite a distance from any asteroid field or comet path. It was hard to get more empty a sector of space than this, yet he swore he had seen something move out there. It hadn’t been the bounty hunter’s ship, as it was still drifting in front of his viewport. It might have been another hunter, come to take their shot at him, but no-one except this hunter knew where he was going. Of course, he couldn’t be certain since his sensors were offline, just like almost every other system.

The day when someone invented a quantum breach drive that didn’t suck a ship’s power dry couldn’t come fast enough.

His ship gave a sudden gentle lurch, and Aerbis’ hand snatched up a pistol. Something had landed on the hull. Thinking fast, he tried to bring up the external sensors, but they did not respond.

Silently cursing, Aerbis lifted himself out of the pilot’s chair and retreated into a corner, his eyes flitting from one corner of the cramped ship to the other. He heard the sound of heavy boots clanking against the hull, just a few inches from his position.

There was someone on his ship.

Aerbis didn’t risk shooting up at the sound in case he was wrong and blew out the hull. He was more amazed that the bounty hunter - at least, he assumed it was the hunter - was making such a reckless move.

The hull let out a groan as something ground against it. Aerbis’ grip around the pistol tightened, and his free hand scrambled to find anything sturdy to hold on to. The groaning and cracking grew louder until, finally, the hull split open.

In an instant, Aerbis’ free hand locked onto the controls and clamped down like a vice. At the same time, he took a deep breath and clamped his beak shut, saving as much air as he could. He was almost pulled off his feet by the sudden rush of wind as all the air in the ship drained from the interior. Over the howl of the air, he heard more metallic grinding as the hull breach widened, and a single figure dropped into the ship.

He was armoured, and armed with a single blaster pistol. Its twin was stuck to the hunter’s left leg, and an enormous sword with a glittering blue blade was locked onto his back. He glared at Aerbis through a single yellow eye. Aerbis could see no occupant of the armour behind it, but faint traces of inner machinery. Even with the air rushing around him, the bounty hunter’s boots were rooted firmly to the ground.

Aerbis raised his gun and fired. The shot went wide and blew out a console behind the bounty hunter, who retaliated with a shot of his own. That shot missed too, but it came close enough to Aerbis’ head for him to flinch. He didn’t realise he’d released his grip on the console until it was too late. The vacuum pulled him away from the controls and up towards the hull breach. He dropped his pistol, and it zipped out into space.

Acting quickly, the bounty hunter holstered his pistol and grabbed Aerbis by the collar, bringing him down to the ground and holding him in place with inhuman strength. The hunter then produced a rebreather and forced it over Aerbis’ beak. Sterile-smelling air assaulted his senses, and he almost choked as he gulped down as much of it as he could. He didn’t even try to wrestle against the bounty hunter’s grip. It was much too strong for any species he knew.

Though, looking at him more closely now, Aerbis wasn’t entirely certain this was a person. He moved with a fluidity that simply couldn't happen in armour that thick, and there was no sign of any occupant beyond the visor, which glowed with a vibrant yellow light.

This bounty hunter was a machine, and a familiar one at that. He’d seen the hunter before, on the battlefields of Genoh and Orbitrium. He had cut down many of the Ascendancy's mercenary forces, and their regular forces too, like a hurricane.

“Aerbis, Clan Verbrein,” the bounty hunter said in a distinctly artificial voice as the last of the air rushed out of the ship, “by the power invested in me by the Grand Concourse Treaty Organization, you’re under arrest.”

## Part 2: Facility 12

Tarhin guided his ship through the etheric void of hyperspace with ease. This was a route he had travelled many times, and he had grown accustomed to the movements of the ether. He silently checked the status of his ship’s systems. Life support for the holding cells was provided by a separate power source, in order to conserve ship’s power for the hyperspace jump. Tarhin himself had no need for life support systems, but his captures did.

He hit a switch, and the ship shifted back into normal space. An asteroid floated overhead, coming dangerously close to the hull. The whole sector was dominated by an asteroid field spanning several parsecs. Even with functioning engines, it was a nightmare to navigate, but Tarhin had planned his jump precisely enough to get him to where he needed to be. As one of the larger asteroids of the bunch rolled in the void, Tarhin spotted what he was looking for; a set of silver hexagons, raised above the asteroid’s surface on large metal pillars.

Facility 12. By all accounts, it was the perfect prison. The multitude of identical hexagonal buildings that comprised it linked together like a hive, but he knew that they could detach from the complex, effectively isolating entire blocks of prisoners. Even if a prisoner did manage to get out of the facility, where could they go? The prison was located above the surface of a desolate, inhospitable asteroid. There was no natural atmosphere, and nothing lived out in this region of space save for the occasional passing Balae. Combine these factors with one of the most sophisticated defence grid cubits could buy, and Facility 12 was all but unassailable.

“Landing Control to unidentified ship, you’ve entered controlled space. Identify and transmit clearance codes.”

“Landing Control, this is the independent hunter ship Obsidian,” Tarhin replied, using what little power he could drag from his systems to boost his com signal. “Stand by to receive clearance codes.” He dredged up the clearance codes from Obsidian’s computer and sent them over in a short burst of data.

A brief moment passed before Landing Control spoke up again.

“Codes confirmed, Obsidian. State your business.”

“Bounty handover.”

“Are you able to dock?”

“Negative, still waiting on my engines to recharge.” Some of his systems had come back online, like maneuvering thrusters and navigation, but he wasn’t about to spend hours inching through space on thrusters alone.

“We’ll dispatch a tow shuttle as soon as possible. Security detail will meet you in the docking bay.”

The link closed, and Tarhin spied a small pointy-nosed shuttle detach itself from the prison complex and zip over to him like a bug. Next thing he knew, Obsidian gave a lurch as a tractor beam latched onto its hull and the shuttle began towing it closer to Facility 12. Before Tarhin’s optical sensors, the docking bay opened up like a great leviathan opening its jaws. The shuttle released the tractor beam, and momentum carried Obsidian inside. Tarhin activated the landing gear and the maneuvering thrusters to bring the ship down and to a halt. He opened the loading ramp and headed for the cargo bay, making sure his pistols were still holstered. He wasn’t going to stay long, so he figured he could leave his sword and rifle on board.

Drawing one pistol, he descended into the cargo bay and approached the only occupied holding cell. Through the transparent cell door, he saw Aerbis standing up, looking for any sign of where they were. Aerbis shrank away at the sight of him.

“Hands behind your head,” Tarhin ordered, raising the pistol. “When I open the door, step out slowly, and no tricks.”

Aerbis nodded once. Tarhin approached the cell door and keyed the release code into the locking mechanism. The door hissed open, exposing Aerbis to the elements. Bitterly, Aerbis stepped forward, hands behind his head. Tarhin marched him down the ramp, where they were greeted by five prison guards in a semi-circle formation. They wore armoured black uniforms which stood out against the polished white of the prison’s interior. Their helmets covered most of their faces, save for their mouths. Large black batons were strapped to their belts and they all carried rifles, each of which was aimed directly at Aerbis.

“Tarhin!”

One of the guards stepped forward, lowered his rifle and lifted his visor. He was Human, with a deathly pale complexion, stark white eyebrows and eyes of a piercing near-neon blue. He wore a broad, friendly smile. It was a face that Tarhin could not forget, and one that he had not seen since Genoh.

“Alain Corbowitz,” Tarhin observed. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What can I say? Mama Corbowitz always thought I’d end up in prison,” Alain smirked. “Good to see you.”

“And you,” Tarhin replied, lowering his pistols.

Alain gave Aerbis a disgruntled once-over. “What did this one do? Must be bad if you brought him here.”

“War criminal,” Tarhin replied. “I can call up the contract, if you need the specifics.”

“No need. I recognise him now.” Alain pointed at Aerbis. “Aerbis Verbrein. Your guys did some nasty things to my people.”

Aerbis snorted self-righteously. “And I’d order them to do so a thousand times again, Karian germ!”

Alain sharply raised his rifle and slammed the butt into Aerbis’ beak, and the Aoshanti shrieked in pain.

“Shouldn’t have insulted my home,” Alain growled. “Cuff him, boys.”

Another guard grabbed Aerbis’ wrists and forced them into a set of metal cuffs. Aerbis made no attempt to resist. The guards urged the Aoshanti war criminal forward, marching him down a long, stark white corridor.

“We’ll take him for processing.” Alain turned back to Tarhin. “Once he’s nice and secure in a cell, I’ll let the Warden know and she’ll transfer your reward. In the meantime,” he continued, glancing down the corridor his men were leading Aerbis down “it’s lunch time for me. How about you join me? We can catch up.”

Tarhin nodded.

They walked several paces behind Aerbis and the group of guards, separating from them at a junction. Hundreds of identical doors marked the walls, each one tagged with a lengthy serial number. Eyes of all sorts stared out at the pair, some glistening with tears or smoking with hatred.

Tarhin and Alain split from the group and walked down yet more sets of long, winding corridors. Passing patrols dodged around them and prisoners cast dirty looks at them through the doors. Tarhin silently wondered how many of them were in here because of bounty hunters like him.

They soon arrived in a wide room packed with long, polished tables. Several prison guards sat in groups, talking or eating meals of some unidentifiable substance. Alain ushered Tarhin to two seats opposite each other, then moved to the wall, where a device Tarhin recognised as a food dispenser sat waiting.

“Water and Nutritional Supplement Seven-Five,” Alain addressed the machine, and it whirred to life, dispensing water in a clear glass and depositing a square silver packet next to it. Alain picked up both and returned to Tarhin, taking a seat next to him.

“I take it you didn’t stay with the Combine after the war ended,” Tarhin observed.

“Working with them was great,” Alain admitted as he tore open the packet, “but I figured I ought to move on, you know? Saw more than my share of action there.” He poured the gelatinous contents into the glass and stirred until it vanished. He lifted the glass to his lips and pulled a face as he made an effort to swallow.

“Gross,” Alain gagged. “How about you? Still doing the merc gigs?”

“These days, I’m more of a bounty hunter,” Tarhin replied, “but I still take mercenary jobs when I wish.”

“Not surprising,” Alain observed. “Clients would be crazy not to hire you. You’re the only guy I know who brought a knife to a gun fight and won. Speaking of,” he continued, glancing at Tarhin’s back, “where’s your sword? Never seen you without it before.”

“It’s on board my ship. I don’t need it for prisoner transfer.” Tarhin looked over Alain’s shoulder at the door. His thoughts drifted to Aerbis, who he suspected was currently being fitted for a prison jumpsuit, or being shepherded into his cell. “You think Aerbis will be secure here?”

“As much as anyone can be,” Alain nodded, his expression souring. “If you ask me, he’s earned a nice long stay here. If it were me looking for him, I’d have killed him.”

“Not worried one of his enemies might try and get to him?”

“Everyone here has enemies,” Alain shrugged, “but I wouldn’t worry about it. We keep our prisoners secure, and I’d like to see the poor sap who thinks he can break in.”

And then, suddenly, the lights flickered out.

## Part 3: Knives in the Dark

As though a switch had been thrown, the guards rose from their spots, reaching for their weapons. Tarhin and Alain rose as well, Tarhin casting his gaze around for any sign of trouble.

“Alert. Main power failure in all sectors,” A monotonous computerised voice droned loudly. “Emergency protocols activated.”

“Emergency protocols?” Tarhin asked, instinctively reaching for his pistols.

“Docking bay detaches from the rest of the prison,” Alain explained hurriedly, checking his weapon, “then emergency power kicks in.”

Sure enough, the lights flickered back on, though much dimmer than they had been. Some of the guards looked relieved, but Alain still looked on edge. He tapped his wrist with his free hand, and a small holographic interface sprang into existence, covering his forearm.

“Corbowitz to all patrols, status reports now,” he said authoritatively.

Voices overlapped each other through the comm as guards reported in from multiple points. Many of their reports said the same thing; situation normal, no change in either the prisoners or themselves. Yet, Tarhin noticed Alain still didn’t look relieved or pleased.

“Bad feeling?” he guessed.

“The worst,” Alain confirmed. “A power drain doesn’t just happen in a place like this. We’ve got a dozen backup generators. They don’t all fail at once.”

“You suspect sabotage.”

“Patrol seven-three reporting from sector eighteen!” came a panicked voice from Alain’s comm. “We’re taking fire and we need backup!”

Tarhin glanced at Alain. It seemed impossible, but he’d gone even more pale.

“Taking fire?”

“Affirmative! The facility’s been breached! We’re being invaded!”

“Invaded? By Rhya’s sweaty...” Alain stopped himself from finishing the curse and spoke into his comm again. “All available officers, report to sector eighteen.” He shut the comm down and turned to Tarhin.

“I’m gonna need your help on this one, my friend,” he said, almost pleading.

“You’ll have it,” Tarhin replied without hesitation. “Just like last time.”

“Not quite,” Alain said, sounding somewhat annoyed. “That time, I actually had a lethal weapon.”

“And this isn’t?” Tarhin gestured to Alain’s gun. It was larger than any gun he owned, and seemed to be thrumming with power.

“Not at all,” Alain said, his annoyance visible on his face. “We’ve only got stun blasters. We’re not meant to kill the prisoners, you see.”

Tarhin could see the problem. Stun blasters were fine weapons if one wanted to subdue a prisoner, but fairly useless in a real fight. At the very least, he was armed properly. Lucky he hadn’t been asked to check in his pistols. Alain, on the other hand…

“I’m sure we can relieve one of these invaders of their gun,” he said. “Which way to sector eighteen?”

“Follow me,” Alain beckoned.

They ran down many twisting hallways, through entire blocks of cells. The entire prison had become much noisier in the few moments since Tarhin had passed through. Alarms blared all around, smothering the jeers of prisoners and the guards’ shouting to maintain order.

He couldn’t blame them for trying. This whole situation was quickly becoming a powder keg. As soon as the prisoners learned what was going on, some of them might get the idea to do something drastic, then chaos would follow. Better to raise the firewall before the virus spread.

Tarhin and Alain soon reached sector eighteen, and what they saw gave them pause. An entire chunk of the sector had split open, as though part of it had been pulled away by a tractor beam. The faint shimmer of a force field was visible around the opening, which looked out into the asteroid field.

A few bodies littered the ground. Most were prison guards, but there were a few of their unknown invaders mixed among the dead. The invaders didn’t share a single uniform. In fact, they looked as though they had donned partial military garb over common clothes. Many sported blast-resistant vests and advanced tactical helmets that obscured their faces. They were a real mixture, from Human through Aoshanti, even a few Keodiw and Eovinjai, drawn from all over the galaxy.

“A-ha!” he heard Alain exclaim and looked back to his companion. Alain lifted a heavy black rifle from the mix of bodies and looked it over.

“This is a Botan S-5 Full Auto Disruptor,” he marveled. “Military-spec. How did these poor saps get such good guns?”

Tarhin caught sight of something shimmering in the void and pointed it out to Alain.

“We’re about to find out.”

The space in front of them wavered, and a spaceship slowly faded into view. It was sharp and angular, its hull a stark grey. Two v-shaped wings jutted from the rear, where two guns had been mounted. Its fore was split down the middle, reminding Tarhin of a pair of fangs. It was small, somewhere between his own ship and a freighter. If he had to guess, it was a raiding vessel of some kind.

The ship drifted closer to the opening, and Tarhin noted a hatch at its fore slide open. There was a heavy grinding sound as the ship sank its fangs into the walls, until the hatch was only feet away from the walls. He saw faint movement within the ship.

They were being boarded.

Tarhin took cover behind a small wall of debris as a group of five more raiders piled into the building. Alain followed suit, checking over the scavenged gun.

“Still works,” he said, somewhat relieved.

“Good,” Tarhin briefly glanced around their cover. The raiders were fanning out in a coordinated maneuver he wouldn’t have thought possible for such a rag-tag group. There was a military-like precision in their movements, as though this wasn’t their first job together.

“Ready?” he asked Alain, who raised the rifle eagerly.

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

The pair launched out of cover, aiming their guns at the raiders and opening fire. Energy bolts soared through the air as the raiders returned fire, blasts striking against their makeshift cover and the wall as they dodged and weaved around the shots. The strong whooshing sound coming from Alain’s scavenged rifle barely masked his cries of joy every time a blast from the gun hit home. Tarhin aimed and fired each pistol with as much precision as he could muster, taking care not to hit them fatally. Perhaps when this incident was dealt with, there might be a bit extra to add to his bounty.

The raiders, on the other hand, were shooting with intent. First blood went to Alain, as a well-placed shot seared a hole through the closest raider’s head.

Tarhin dropped to the ground as a blast from one of their rifles missed the top of his head by microns. Acting fast, he fired at the raider that shot at him. The bolt struck him just below the shoulder and he fell, letting out a grunt of pain. The raiders noticed he was on the ground, and two of them turned their guns on him. Tarhin grabbed the nearest raider body and shunted it in front of him. The corpse took the blasts and jolted with every shot. Tarhin drove himself forwards, shifting the grip on one of his pistols so that he held it by the barrel. As soon as he was within striking distance, he threw the body to the side and struck the nearest raider’s head with the pistol. He hit with such force that the raider staggered to the side before slumping to the ground, bleeding a little from the head. With his other pistol, he aimed at the second raider’s knee and fired. The raider keeled over, clutching his leg. The sound of the Botan S-5 being fired caught Tarhin’s attention, and he saw the last of the raiders fall to the ground, a great smoking hole punched through his chest.

Their work was done, for now.

“I like this,” Alain grinned, holding up his scavenged rifle triumphantly. He looked over to the still living raiders, eyeing them with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. “Think we have time for an interrogation?”

“We’re not done yet,” Tarhin noted as the ship’s hatch opened again. Another group of raiders, twenty in all, poured from the vessel, guns raised. Tarhin aimed his pistols at them, and he heard the click of Alain’s rifle as he raised it. They were outgunned. It was likely, Tarhin observed, this would be a short fight.

“Hold fire!” A voice called from the back of the group, and a sudden stillness fell across the area. The raiders lowered their guns, and Tarhin did the same. Alain, however, kept his rifle raised. Neither side dared to fire.

“Well I’ll be.” The voice was deep and mirthful, and it ignited something in Tarhin’s memory banks. “If it isn’t the mechanical mercenary. Didn’t expect to find you here.”

The group of raiders parted, and one of their number stepped forward. A Human, looking out at the pair through a rebreather mask. The Human had dark skin, much of which was visible as his makeshift armour had no sleeves. A white tattoo of a swirling cloud decorated his left arm. His hair was styled into neat cornrows, and Tarhin could make out a short scar on his right cheek. Tarhin felt a sudden jolt from his memory banks. This was another familiar face, but not one he could put a name to.

“I know you,” he said slowly. “You were at Genoh.”

“That’s right. Bronson Rigby,” the Human announced as he removed his rebreather and goggles, revealing black eyes. “Formerly Captain Bronson Rigby of the Karstedt army.”

Now he remembered. The events of Merc’s Drift came back to him all too easily. He remembered every face from that long week, everyone that had dared to challenge him and his team, and those who had helped.

“What are you doing here, Rigby?” he asked, keeping his pistol raised.

“Thought it was obvious,” Rigby replied, looking genuinely surprised. “We’re here to kill Aerbis Verbrein.”

## Part 4: Rigby the Reaper

The revelation didn’t entirely surprise Tarhin. With a target with such a high profile, he had expected someone to try and poach his bounty at some point, but even he had never suspected they would try it so brazenly.

“Intent to kill a prisoner, huh?” Alain called as he aimed his gun directly at Rigby. “That’s enough reason to lock you up in here for good.”

As one, all twenty raiders, Rigby included, aimed their guns at Alain.

“Try it and see what happens.” There was an edge in Rigby’s voice, as though he were itching to pull the trigger.

“Lower the gun, Alain,” Tarhin said cautiously. “We’re outnumbered.”

Alain cautiously lowered the S-5. Of the raiders, only Rigby lowered his weapon.

“Smart boy,” Rigby smirked. “Be even smarter if you helped us out. Where’s Verbrein’s cell?”

“Like we’d tell you if we knew,” Alain said venomously.

Rigby gave Alain an angry glare. For a moment, Tarhin suspected he might go for his gun. Instead, he lifted his left arm up, and Tarhin spotted a comlink strapped to his wrist.

“Retreat,” he spoke sharply into the device. “Scan every sector. I want to know the moment you find his bio-signature.”

At his command, the spaceship drew back, the hatch at its fore slamming shut. Tarhin watched it peel away from their sector and move to a spot above one of the adjacent sectors, where it hovered motionless for a moment before moving on.

“A biometric scanner that’s precise enough to locate a single person, eh?” Alain asked, feigning being impressed. “Illegal for civilian use, if I remember right. The charges against you keep piling up.”

Rigby tutted. “Once I’ve killed Verbrein, it won’t matter. Me and my boys’ll be heroes. Sure, you can lock us up, but you’ll be hated for it.”

“Why go after Verbrein like this?” Tarhin asked bluntly.

Rigby looked hurt.

“How can you, of all people, forget?” he asked bitterly. “Weren’t you on the ground at Genoh? Oh, of course,” he added snidely. “You and your merc friends sat out the rest of the battle in a valley shack.”

“I was ordered there,” Tarhin said, his pride wounded. The notion that he sat out Genoh was nearly enough to bring his pistols up. He suppressed his anger, and kept the guns by his sides.

“So you didn’t see the prison camps, and the slave drivers that worked there,” Rigby spat. “You didn’t see the suicide bombings! The executions of surrendered soldiers! The murder of civilians! All because of Verbrein’s orders! For that, if nothing else, he has to die!”

“Verbrein hasn’t been tried yet!” Alain spoke up. “The Neegwein have agreed…”

“Neegwein courts aren’t worth spit!” Rigby was becoming more and more agitated. “The only way to deal with that kind of scum is a laser bolt through the skull!”

“That’s not how things are done in peacetime, Rigby!” Alain protested. Rigby scoffed audibly.

“Peacetime, really? If we were really at peace, we wouldn’t have to still deal with these people.” There was a dark, almost sorrowful quality to Rigby’s voice. “Way I see it, we didn’t fight for years on Genoh, or lay waste to Orbitrium to keep them behind bars for the rest of their lives, or worse, let them go with a slap on the wrist. No, we’re still at war, you just don’t realise it.”

“You’ve done this before,” Tarhin realised.

“Verbrein isn’t our first. We’ve been hunting these war criminals for a long time. You got lucky, robot, getting to him first, but he’s ours.” Rigby laughed darkly. “At this point, I don’t even care about the bounty. I only want to see him die.”

“Rigby, we found him.” The voice echoed from Rigby’s wrist comlink, and he looked exalted as he answered.

“Where is he?”

“Sector 307, maximum security wing.”

“Copy that. Come back here and pick us up,” Rigby commanded. He lowered his wrist comlink and raised his rifle. His fellow raiders followed suit. “Should have joined us, fellas. I came here to kill Ascendancy, not murder our guys, but if you insist on going against me, I have no choice.”

Tarhin raised his pistols, but he knew it was a futile gesture. Even with Alain’s help, he reckoned he could only shoot down three, perhaps four raiders before they killed him. They were simply outnumbered and outgunned.

He heard the sound of a door swishing open, and a voice yelling “Fire!” Snapping into action, he grabbed Alain and pulled him to the ground as a fusillade of stun bolts soared through the air, melding with the salvo of laser blasts from the raiders. A squadron of ten prison guards charged from the other end of the hall. Taking advantage of their distraction, Tarhin brought his pistols to bear against the closest raiders. They didn’t realise until it was too late. Alain brought his new rifle to bear against the raiders as well, punching holes through their armour and making them drop like flies.

Even with their help, it was clear Rigby’s raiders had the upper hand. Their weapons, after all, were lethal, and the prison guards had no cover. Many of them were struck by laser bolts and dropped to the ground, shrieking in pain or struggling to breathe. More and more, the fight was turning in the raiders’ favour, as they managed to down half the guard reinforcements.

The whole sector shook once again and the sound of grinding metal filled the air. Behind the raiders, the ship had returned, its forward hatch opening.

“Retreat!” Rigby called over the gunfire. The living raiders slowly fell back towards the ship’s hatch, getting a few last shots off at the prison guards. A well-aimed shot from one of the prison guards managed to drop another raider, but Rigby and the remaining twelve raiders boarded the ship, stowing their weapons as the hatch closed behind them. Once again, the ship pulled away, and Tarhin watched helplessly as it flew across the asteroid’s landscape, towards some of the further cells.

“Captain Corbowitz!” one of the guards called, clearly relieved as she stepped forward. “Thank Rhya we found you! The Warden’s safe, and she wants a status report.”

“No time,” Alain replied grimly. “Contact sector 307, tell them to go to full alert. Those raiders are heading their way. You two,” he added, pointing to a pair of prison guards, “secure these raiders, then check on the prisoners in this sector. Arm yourselves properly, if you can. Take their weapons.” He gestured to the downed raiders. “Call for a medical team, get our guys back up. I think we’re gonna need everyone we can get.” The guards followed their orders perfectly. The stunned raiders were bound and gathered in one group as the guards went from cell to cell, quelling any noise from within with words of warning and stern looks.

“How did they know we’re keeping Verbrein here?” Alain asked, looking concerned.

“They must have been tracking his ship,” Tarhin guessed. “When the trail went cold, they must have known he’d been found and brought here.”

“We need to get to sector 307 before they do.” Alain made towards the door, paused, and turned back to Tarhin. “Can we count on your help?”

“I haven’t been paid yet,” Tarhin said, moving towards the door, “and I don’t bring my marks in dead if I can help it.”

“Good to hear.” As they moved into the next sector, Alain paused. “I think I have an idea as to how we can beat them to Verbrein. Still got your ship?”

“It’s in the docking bay,” Tarhin nodded, “but the bay’s disengaged from the rest of the complex. How do you suggest we get there?”

Alain gave a confident laugh. “Hope you like spacewalking.”

## Part 5: Disconnected

Tarhin stared across the desolate surface of the asteroid. The deep crags and high peaks that dotted its grey-brown surface stretched as far as his optical sensors could register. Great craters scarred the rock, some completely worn away and revealing the asteroid’s insides for all to see; strands of the same grey-brown rock, glittering with the presence of trace elements. It was a miracle that anything stable could be built here, let alone an advanced prison complex. In contrast to the chaos within Facility 12, the asteroid was still and silent, smothered by the quiet of the void outside. Sometimes, a smaller asteroid floated overhead, similarly undisturbed. Only the blaring of alarms disturbed Tarhin’s contemplation of what he was about to do.

Below the entrance, he saw the part of Facility 12 that contained the docking bay. The sector had lowered on its leg until it lay nearly flush to the ground. With how far the rest of Facility 12 was raised above the ground, it seemed so close, and yet so far away. If they went by Alain’s plan, there was only one way to reach it.

“This isn’t something I expected to do again,” he observed as he turned to Alain, who was busy pulling an EV suit over his uniform. The suit itself might have once been stark white, but years of use had yellowed it and specks of space dust were visible in many spots.

“I’ll admit, it’s not the best plan I’ve ever come up with,” Alain replied defensively.

“Is that counting your plan for Merc’s Drift?”

Alain raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that was a genius plan! Commander Byrgen just didn’t appreciate it.”

“Because he knew it was stupid.”

“At least I came up with something,” Alain jabbed. “As I recall, you didn’t volunteer a plan of any sort.”

“I was never asked,” Tarhin replied. “You know how Byrgen was with independent mercs.”

“Oh boy, do I ever,” Alain laughed, fixing a dirt-covered power pack to his back. “Now, the plan.” He walked over to the sealed sector door, helmet in hand. “When I override the lock and open this door, we’ll be sucked out of here and into space. Speaking of, you’ll need to get on this suit’s comm frequency. Delta-nine-three-one, I think.”

“Understood.” Tarhin made the adjustment with no more than a thought.

“Now,” Alain continued, “since the asteroid outside’s got no atmosphere and no gravity, we won’t be able to propel ourselves down to the docking bay, but that’s why I have these.” He indicated two large black devices, each one about the size of Tarhin’s head. They had two visible components, a pair of grips and control panel at one end and a flat head at the other.

“Magnetic clamps,” he realised.

“Absolutely,” Alain grinned somewhat maniacally. “Once we’re clear of sector one, we can use these to lock onto the docking bay and work our way to the entrance, where we’ll get your ship.”

“A good plan,” Tarhin nodded, “but why not just raise the docking bay back up and reconnect it?”

“Security protocols mean we can’t,” Alain replied. “Until we get the all-clear, we can’t access the bay’s controls.”

Tarhin said nothing, choosing instead to pick up one of the magnetic clamps. It was much heavier than he had expected, but that wouldn’t matter once they were weightless. It was a daring plan, for certain. Maybe even a disastrous plan, but they had few options and even less time. Every moment spent arguing about a plan was a moment that Rigby and his raiders got closer to finding Verbrein. They had to act now.

Alain fastened a helmet over his head and activated a light on the EV suit’s chest.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Always,” Tarhin replied, bracing himself.

Alain approached the door, dragging his magnetic clamp behind him, and produced a slim black strip. He paused a moment, and slapped it against the door’s locking mechanism. The door hissed open, and Tarhin felt the force of the vacuum strike him from behind.

“Come on!” Alain beckoned and leapt through the open door. Tarhin jumped and let the rushing air carry him through the door and out into space.

At once, the alarms ceased. Every sound ceased. Tarhin felt himself gliding aimlessly through space. It was a familiar feeling. Since he could survive in places an organic couldn’t, he was often called upon to do work in space or other hazardous environments. Still, he was never comfortable with the

“We’re clear!” Alain’s voice, crisp and clear, sounded over his internal comlink. “Activate the clamp!”

Tarhin’s free hand flew to his clamp’s control panel and activated it, turning it up to full power. He could feel the clamp thrum as it activated, and he felt it drag him towards the docking bay. Out of the corner of his optical sensor, he saw Alain flying parallel to him, only a short distance away.

He flew downwards, the sector growing larger with every second.

Tarhin’s clamp met the metal and locked into place, Tarhin himself landing a second later. He paused, waiting for Alain to land. The Human flew closer, still fiddling with the clamp’s control panel. He moved closer and closer to the docking bay, until his clamp struck the roof, corner first, and locking on.

Alain, however, was not so lucky. The moment the clamp locked onto the docking bay, Alain jerked suddenly, his hand slipping from the clamp’s grip, and he began to float away from the docking bay.

Tarhin quickly disengaged his clamp and kicked off from the roof, floating towards Alain as his friend careened through space. Tarhin seized Alain’s arm and tucked it underneath his own, pressing it tight to his torso as he reactivated the clamp. As it reattached to the roof, Tarhin tightened his grip and felt his feet make contact with solid ground. As soon as he was certain of his grip, he let Alain go, and his friend approached the edge of the docking bay, peering down the side.

“We’ve landed on top of the main port,” he said, his cheery attitude barely masking the sting of embarrassment. “Once we make it past the shielded entry port, we should be okay.”

Slowly, Tarhin and Alain climbed down the wall, using whatever they could find as grips. Every few steps, Tarhin glanced to the side, where he could only just glimpse the inside of the docking bay. The moment they had apparently reached floor level, the two climbed sideways and used the wall to fling themselves through the shields and into the docking bay. Tarhin had an easier time adjusting to the gravity than Alain, who stumbled and tripped over his own feet.

“See? What did I tell you?” he asked as he pulled off his helmet and sighed. “My plans are great.”

“If you don’t mind someone else correcting your mistake,” Tarhin jabbed as he stood to his full height.

“I had it under control! Really!” Alain protested. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you don’t appreciate my genius either.”

Tarhin ignored Alain’s protests and scanned the docking bay. He was greeted with a sight that filled him with elation. Resting among the uniform prison shuttles was a vessel intimately familiar to him.

Obsidian. Tarhin knew, then and there, he would never not be happy to see his ship.

## Part 6: Shadows of Genoh

Tarhin wasted no time getting Obsidian ready to launch. He made his way to the bridge and began powering up the engines. Such an act was practically second nature to him by now. The ship and he were almost a single unit.

The interior of Obsidian was surprisingly cool as fresh air cycled into the ship. He had, fortunately, remembered to reactivate life support for Alain’s sake.

Alain paused for a second to admire Tarhin’s sword, which rested on a stand next to a blaster rifle and several other lethal-looking devices, then stepped in behind Tarhin and watched him work.

“What’s this guy’s angle?” he asked aloud after a moment.

“He wants to kill Verbrein,” Tarhin replied. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Well, yeah, I got that,” Alain said, shaking his head. “There’s gotta be more to it, though. Back when we met him, he was acting like he knew you. Did you guys work together during the war?”

“Briefly.” Tarhin paused launch preparations for a second and pulled up communications. There were no incoming signals.

“They’ve blocked external comms,” he noted as he returned to his work.

“Internal comms still work, but anything else is just screaming into the void,” Alain pointed out. “But back to the war. How did you know Rigby?”

“I didn’t know him personally, but we met once. So did you.”

“I did?” Alain frowned. “When?”

“Do you remember the end of Merc’s Drift?”

“How could I forget?” Alain leaned against the wall. “Byrgen was dead, the shield wall had come down, and the Ascendancy were about to overwhelm us…”

“...until the GCTO finally arrived to reinforce us,” Tarhin finished, recalling the final days of that fateful battle with alarming ease. “The Human that Commander Vaylak spoke to, I knew I recognised him.”

Alain looked astounded. “That was Rigby?”

“I think so,” Tarhin nodded. “Once I remembered his name, I knew him. He delivered our orders to leave Merc’s Drift and prepare to assault Orbitrium.”

“He was that guy. Rhya…” Alain swore. “What could have turned him into this?”

“You heard him raving about Verbrein’s crimes,” Tarhin pointed out. “My guess is that he witnessed them firsthand. Maybe a mission behind enemy lines exposed them to him, or he got to experience them himself.”

“And that turned him into a killer?”

“I’m not surprised it did,” Tarhin observed. “If you saw what he saw, the most horrific crimes organics can do to each other, or if you suffered at the hands of someone like Verbrein, and you knew he was still alive and unpunished, how would you feel?”

“Angry, for sure,” Alain said slowly, “but I don’t think I’d go that far.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Alain replied. “We won the war, Tarhin. We stopped the Ascendancy’s bid for galactic domination. That should be enough. Wasn’t Verbrein running when you found him? He’ll never live the same way again since the war’s end.”

“I calculate Rigby doesn’t feel that way, nor do his friends,” Tarhin noted. “To him, I imagine any enemy still alive means the war’s still on.”

“And now he’s found his way here,” Alain realised. “There’s a whole load of Ascendancy war criminals locked up here. If he realises that, this could turn into a slaughter quickly.”

“All the more reason to stop him now.” Tarhin agreed. The muffled sound of the engines roaring to life filled the bridge, and Tarhin engaged the controls.

Obsidian lifted off the docking bay floor, turned to face the entry port and flew forward, out into space. Tarhin effortlessly guided the ship over the linked sectors of Facility 12. Several of the sectors in the complex’s network seemed smaller, as though further away than the others. Tarhin guessed that these sectors had been separated from the rest of the prison, just as the docking bay had.

It was easy for him to pick out the damaged sector by the great hole in its side. He and Alain had been in there not so long ago, and come face to face with the instigator of all this madness. He silently wondered what would happen when they met again. With luck, Rigby hadn’t found Verbrein yet, and there was still time to stop him.

And there it was. The raiders’ ship had burrowed into another sector like some enormous bloodsucking insect. It gave no indication that it noticed their presence.

Tarhin primed Obsidian’s weapons and targeted the main hull. Two energy blasts lanced from Obsidian’s fore and struck the ship, scoring the hull and causing a small explosion to rise from it. Tarhin, for the first time today, was shocked. He had assumed Rigby and his men knew what they were doing, but what sort of fool brought a ship with no shields? Even Obsidian had a basic shield generator aboard, and Obsidian was nearing obsolescence, at least by Argen standards.

Still, he’d caught its attention, and the ship slowly drew back from sector 307 and turned to face Obsidian, its own weapons aimed squarely at the bridge. Tarhin flung Obsidian to the right as two jets of green energy blazed through space, narrowly missing the hull. Again, Tarhin fired. Only one shot struck the hull, shearing through its armour plating, but the other one missed and struck the rock beneath.

“Careful,” Alain warned as Tarhin manoeuvred Obsidian into another position. “Try not to hit the sectors.”

“Noted.” Tarhin dropped Obsidian, activating underside thrusters mere seconds before his ship touched the ground. He glanced up at the raider ship’s exposed underside; the perfect target.

“I need to concentrate on piloting, Alain,” he said, a plan already forming in his central processor, “so I need you on weapons control.” He indicated a panel to his right. Alain quickly complied.

“The third switch from the top is the neutron mine launcher,” Tarhin explained as he slowly moved Obsidian under the raider ship.

Alain looked shocked. “How did you come by…”

“Never mind that now,” Tarhin insisted. “When I tell you, activate the switch. It’ll release a single mine that should lock onto their ship and detonate. Stand by.” Carefully handling the controls, Tarhin sent Obsidian into a roll. Over they turned until the raider ship disappeared from view, and the surface of the asteroid loomed over them.

“Now.”

Alain acted before Tarhin had even finished speaking, and activated the switch.

A small hatch opened on Obsidian’s underside, and a silvery metal globe, propelled by a single thruster, flew out of it, heading straight for the raider ship. It was quick, despite its limited propellant power, and struck the ship’s underside. The resulting explosion shook the vessel, and more explosions followed suit, tearing through the ship and breaking it up almost completely.

As Tarhin rolled Obsidian upright again, he watched the vessel disintegrate and its components drift off into space.

“Awesome!” Alain cheered. “That makes this a lot easier. They’ve got nowhere to run to now.”

“Indeed,” Tarhin nodded, guiding Obsidian towards the makeshift entrance to sector 307, “but it’s not over yet.” He turned Obsidian around and brought it to a stop right in front of the breach. He then stood and went to the small armoury, picking up his sword and swinging it over his back, where it locked into place.

Tarhin and Alain moved to the main ramp in Obsidian’s cargo bay, and held their breath as it opened. They charged forward, through the breach and the force field that had sprung up to preserve the sector’s internal atmosphere. The sound of yelling and gunfire drew them deeper into the sector.

As they rounded a corner, they froze as half a dozen raiders aimed their guns at them.

“Oh,” they heard Rigby’s voice say, “it’s you.”

Tarhin looked past the raiders, and what he saw made him instinctively reach for his pistols.

Rigby had his rifle pressed, point blank, against the head of Aerbis Verbrein.

## Part 7: Veterans of Catastrophe

“Just in time,” Rigby jeered, casting a cold glare at them. “Well, don’t be shy. Come on in, put your feet up, do...whatever it is robots do to unwind, stick around, and you’ll get to hear all of Verbrein’s crimes before he dies.”

“You’re awful confident for someone whose escape route just got taken out,” Alain shot back. “Nowhere to run to now that we’ve cornered you.”

“I can take yours,” Rigby replied, nonplussed. “Rix, Benn, go secure their ship. The rest of you boys, make our guests comfortable.”

Two of the raiders separated from the group, heading back down the corridor that Tarhin and Alain had just arrived through. The others stepped forward, forcibly grabbing the pair and seizing their weapons. The raider that took Tarhin’s sword staggered as he tried to lift the heavy blade. Tarhin and Alain offered no resistance. It was quite hard to do so when they were surrounded by enemies and in a tight corridor.

The raiders marched Tarhin and Alain down the corridor and through an open door. The raiders forced them to kneel, and they complied. Tarhin gave the room a brief once-over. The walls were the same stark white as the rest of Facility 12, with no windows or viewports of any kind. A bed sat in one corner, white sheets crumpled and ruffled. In the other sat a metal desk and a matching uncomfortable chair, both of which looked like they had been quickly and roughly pushed aside. Verbrein knelt by the bed, staring defiantly up at Rigby.

They were in Verbrein’s cell.

“Stop this now, Rigby,” Tarhin said.

“You know, for such an advanced AI, you are kind of stupid,” Rigby spat. “Look around you, robot! You’re in no position to demand anything of me!”

“I was gonna be nice to you guys. Really, I was,” Rigby continued, obviously annoyed. “I was happy for us to go our separate ways. You get the bounty, and I get justice, that’s a win/win situation. But no, you couldn’t have that, could you? Rigid machine that you are, you just had to keep going, had to come after me! So no, you stay there, and when I’m done with this scum, you and your friend are next!”

“You kill us, and you’ll never make it out of this prison alive!” Alain warned. Rigby looked concerned for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed out loud.

“Now, why would I want to get out so soon?” he asked. “All I could ever want is right here. Facility 12, full to bursting with the worst of the galaxy. This scum,” he said, indicating Verbrein, “is only the beginning. At first, I only came here for him, but now I realise I can do so much more here in a few hours, than out there for years.”

“You’re no army, Rigby,” Tarhin said urgently. “You won’t last long if you go through with that. Either the guards will catch you, or you’ll make a mistake and kill the wrong person, but it ends here. You kill Verbrein, and there’s no going back from that.”

“Shut up!” Rigby snapped. “I’m done trying to convince you. Now, where was I? Ah, yes…” He rounded on Verbrein and pressed the barrel of his rifle to the Aoshanti’s head.

“Aerbis of Clan Verbrein, formerly Field Marshall Aerbis Verbrein of the Ascendancy of the Broken Ring, you are guilty of many crimes. I’m sure there are more, but I can only think of the most notable ones. You are guilty of turning your soldiers into a unit of suicide bombers and martyrs.” Rigby raised his rifle, turned it around, and struck Verbrein in the face with the butt. Verbrein yelped in pain and slumped backwards, a great black bruise adorning his once-haughty face.

“You are guilty of executing surrendered soldiers and prisoners of war!” Again, Rigby struck, much more agitated this time.

“You are guilty of ordering the massacre of noncombatants!” He struck again.

“You are guilty of turning prison facilities into slave camps!” Again.

“You are guilty of the murder of Lieutenant Felix Agatone! Sergeant Wilson Mittermeyer! Sergeant Timon Visskhof! Lieutenant Denia Annerein!” With this attack on Verbrein, Tarhin noticed a change in Rigby. He was growing more fervent with every strike, as though he were tearing open an old wound. This was more than a simple matter of bounty poaching. It was deeply personal.

When Rigby finally paused, perhaps from exhaustion, blood was visibly caked over the butt of his gun. Verbrein’s face was covered in blood, his feathers tattered and his face so blackened with bruising that he barely resembled his old self. He wasn’t going to last much longer if Rigby had kept up his assault. Tarhin had to act, before Rigby killed him and payday slipped through his fingers.

“For your crimes against the GCTO, against the civilised galaxy, against all of us, you will die!” Rigby regained his composure, and turned his gun to point at Verbrein. “May Rhya have mercy on your soul. You’re gonna need it.”

It had to be now.

Putting all of his strength into his arms, Tarhin lashed out at the raiders holding him, sending them flying and crashing into the walls. Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Alain elbowed the closest raider in the stomach, disarming him expertly and shooting him and his companion through the head. The remaining two raiders sprang into action, taking shots at the fast-moving Alain, who returned fire in the same moment. Both shots from the raiders struck Alain in the right leg, and he yelled audibly. Alain’s blasts struck the two raiders in the head, and both crumpled to the ground to join their friends in a pile.

In that split second, Tarhin sprang forward like a wildcat, wrapping his arms around Rigby’s torso and slamming into the wall of Verbrein’s cell. There was a loud crunch as both their armour smashed against the wall, slightly cracking the impact site. They both collapsed to the ground, Tarhin wrestling to pin Rigby to the ground.

“Tarhin! You okay?” Alain called through gritted teeth, trying as hard as he could to remain standing.

“Yeah,” Tarhin grunted.

“You got this?”

“Yeah. Take Verbrein and go secure my shi…” Tarhin was caught off-guard as Rigby kneed him in the torso, knocking him back. Tarhin rose to his feet and Rigby did the same, hands curled into fists.

“No!” Rigby shouted, taking another swing at Tarhin. “I won’t let you, robot!” Tarhin easily deflected the punch with his arm and slammed his fist into Rigby’s armoured gut. Rigby wheezed and dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach. Alain limped forward, seizing Verbrein and hauling him from the cell. Verbrein didn’t put up a fight. Alain pulled Verbrein forcibly down the corridor as fast as his wounded leg could carry them both, and they vanished around the corner.

As Tarhin advanced on him, Rigby shakily reached out and grabbed his fallen blaster, aiming it at Tarhin’s middle and squeezing the trigger.

It was like he’d been hit by a speeding landskimmer. The force of the shot took Tarhin completely by surprise, and he was blasted back out of the cell and onto the ground, landing hard in the pile of dead raiders and weapons. He could feel the damage done to his central chassis before his systems notified him of it.

Tarhin tried to pull himself up, but a sharp pain forced him back down.

“Very nice,” Rigby noted. “Not many people can take a shot powered by an Obliterator Matrix and make it out alive, but I suppose you’re not really a person, are you?”

No wonder it hurt so much, Tarhin thought. In the right hands, an Obliterator Matrix installed in a blaster could be just as dangerous to the victim as it was to the wielder. When installed correctly, the Obliterator Matrix spiked the output of an energy weapon as it fired, a risky idea that often ended with a destroyed weapon and a lot of death. The fact that it hadn’t exploded on Rigby yet was a miracle.

Yet, the pain from the shot subsided somewhat as a subtle anger built up inside Tarhin. What was it about organics that always compelled them to point out that he was a machine? As if he couldn’t figure that one out for himself.

“It’s that kind of organic closed-mindedness that means you’ll always underestimate machines like me.”

“Believe me, Tarhin, I know what you can do,” Rigby replied. “That’s why I have to take you out. Can’t have someone with your skill set trying to stop me.”

Rigby advanced, aiming the blaster at Tarhin’s head.

“I tried reasoning with you, robot,” he snarled, eyes full of hate. “Let it never be said that I tried to make you understand.”

Tarhin rose slowly, ignoring the pain in his chassis, and his hand found a familiar grip. Grabbing the stolen pistol, he raised it with lightning speed and fired twice. Both shots missed by inches as Rigby threw himself sideways, landing in a corner. The Human gathered himself and ran back into the cell as Tarhin fired again and again, and he overturned the desk and crouched behind it. Tarhin continued shooting, picking up his other pistol and adding its shots to his fusillade.

Several of his shots struck the overturned desk, scoring its polished silver surface jet black. Over the sound of energy discharge, he heard movement from behind the desk. Was Rigby trying to reposition himself? Surely there wasn’t much he could do inside that cell. He was boxed in. All he had to do was keep applying pressure, just like the Ascendancy did to him and his team at Merc’s Drift.

Then he saw the slightest hint of movement, and the glitter of the gunbarrel as it lifted from behind the desk and fired once. He dropped to the ground as the shot sailed overhead and down the corridor, exploding against a wall a fair distance away. Picking himself up, he aimed and fired at Rigby’s rifle just as it vanished behind the desk again. Tarhin advanced into the cell, firing at the desk over and over again. The pistols were growing hotter with every blast, but he kept up the pressure. Rigby would crack before the guns overheated, hopefully. Then again, Rigby hadn’t come this far by giving up easily.

He was so concerned with flushing him out, Tarhin didn’t spot Rigby’s rifle rising over the desk until it was too late. This time, the shot didn’t miss, and Tarhin was blasted backwards. He landed hard, both pistols flying from his hands and scattering to the sides of the cell. More warnings sprung up on his optical display. His central chassis had taken more damage, this time closer to his fusion core.

Rigby rose, victoriously smug, from behind the ruined desk and took aim at Tarhin. He fired again, and Tarhin felt himself forced against the cold ground as the shot pierced his armour plating.

“I’ve had too much taken from me already, robot!” Rigby bellowed over another burst from his rifle, this one smashing into the centre of Tarhin’s chestplate. “I won’t let you take this! Not you, not anyone!”

Tarhin forced himself to roll onto his front, but the shots didn’t stop. They fell on his back with the force of meteors. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least his fusion core was protected for the moment.

He forced his head up, and spied the glimmer of blue metal among the silver and black of the raiders’ weaponry.

Of course, he realised. In the blind confusion of this brawl, he’d forgotten they’d taken his sword. If he could just reach it, he’d be armed again.

The pain was incredible, but Tarhin forced himself to crawl forward. He inched out of the door, enduring the shots of Rigby’s Obliterator Matrix-powered blaster. Every moment was agony, and there were moments when he briefly, and only briefly, entertained the idea of giving up and dying. He’d never felt agony this excruciating since Orbitrium, and that was the worst hell he had ever suffered through.

“Why?!” Rigby bellowed over the shots. “Why do you keep going? Just make it easy on yourself and give up! WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!”

“This...job’s...not...done...yet!” Tarhin grunted. Static bled into his vocal processor, giving his voice a fuzzy tone. He stretched out his arm and grabbed the hilt of the sword, putting all his strength into a great arcing swing. The sword sliced through armour, cloth, and flesh. Suddenly, the white walls and floor of the cell took on great splashes of red as blood spurted from where Rigby’s left arm had once been connected to the rest of his body. The rifle tumbled from Rigby’s grip and came to rest by the severed limb.

Rigby himself yelled angrily and blindly charged at Tarhin, reaching out for the bounty hunter’s neck with his remaining hand. Tarhin turned his sword sideways, and Rigby’s face met the flat of the blade with a sickening crunch.

In that moment, the energy seemed to drain from Rigby entirely, and he slumped to the ground. His face was bloodied, and his nose was broken, but Tarhin could tell he wore a defeated expression. He posed no further threat.

Tarhin let his sword fall, and he collapsed next to it, in terrible pain, but somehow still online. His limbs felt heavy, and damage warnings from his internal systems nearly entirely obscured his vision.

An uneasy silence fell on the pair. Neither moved or spoke for a moment. Then, finally, the silence was broken

“So…” Rigby groaned as he shifted himself up against the bed, “this is what it came to.”

“You left me no choice,” Tarhin buzzed.

“Save the apologies,” Rigby grunted. “I knew the risks going in. They all did.” He looked over at the discarded sword, its blue blade stained red. “You’re pretty handy with that thing. Now I see why the troops called you the Hurricane.”

Tarhin forced himself to nod in appreciation. It wasn’t a nickname he cherished, but it was miles ahead of “robot” or “tin can”.

Rigby’s face contorted in pain. “Haven’t felt this bad since Orbitrium.”

Tarhin slowly turned his head, facing the wounded soldier.

“What was your mission on Orbitrium?” he asked as clearly as he could.

“Fire support for ground logistics,” Rigby replied, trying his utmost to mask the pain. “Got caught up pretty badly in the bombings. Came out alive, though. Real stroke of luck, that.” He looked up at Tarhin. “How about you?”

“Mission behind enemy lines,” Tarhin buzzed. “Stirring up trouble, hunting down their mercenary leaders.”

“Figured,” Rigby groaned, shifting against the bed and staining the sheets scarlet. “We’ve both been through a lot, huh.”

For a moment they sat, not as hunter and prey, not even as enemies, but as veterans of catastrophe.

“I lost so much in the war,” Rigby said slowly. “Everything except my desire for revenge. I wasn’t alone, either. My men? They all felt the same. Justice had to be done, and we had to be the ones to do it.”

Tarhin heard the sound of footsteps at the end of the corridor, growing slowly louder with each passing moment. Reinforcements, at long last.

“This,” Rigby sighed, lifting his hand pathetically and gesturing to the carnage around them, his eyes lingering on his severed arm for a moment, “is just another thing that got taken from me.”

“Believe me,” Tarhin buzzed, “this wasn’t personal.”

Rigby looked Tarhin right in the optical sensor, and Tarhin saw tears mingling with the blood on his face.

“It was for me.”

## Part 8: The Departed

Tarhin waited patiently as the Facility 12 engineer ran one final scan over his chestplate. He’d been in this workshop for five days while the finest technical minds in the entire prison worked on repairing him. While Rigby had been rushed to the medical bay, Tarhin had been brought down here to be restored to the best of their ability. Truly, they had done masterful work. Already he could feel a marked improvement in his condition, and he looked as though he had never been attacked.

“Looks like everything works how it should, I think,” the engineer said, stowing the scanner. “You feeling any better? Worse?”

“Better,” Tarhin replied, his voice crisp and clear thanks to her ministrations. It still carried that metallic hum behind it, but that was simply a quirk of his voice.

“Excellent,” the engineer smiled. “I’ll let the Warden...ah, Captain Corbowitz!”

Alain stood in the doorway of the workshop, resting on a white crutch. Bandages were visibly wrapped around his leg, and he still seemed uneasy on his feet. He wore white medical scrubs that seemed so big on him it was almost comical. He limped out of the doorway and into the workshop.

“How’s the patient?” he asked, grinning broadly.

“Fully recovered, I think,” the engineer said, gesturing to Tarhin, who had shifted off the workbench and stood upright, testing the flexibility of his arms. “The internal mechanisms gave me a bit of trouble, since I won’t pretend to be familiar with Argen technology, but replacing the damaged armour was easy enough.”

“Great work.” Alain clapped the engineer on the shoulder, then approached Tarhin. “Up on your feet already?”

“Can’t keep me down for long,” Tarhin replied.

“True,” Alain nodded appreciatively. “Here, shift up.”

Tarhin moved aside and Alain hoisted himself up onto the workbench, where he sat casually. The engineer excused herself and left hurriedly. Tarhin joined Alain in sitting atop the workbench.

“What have I missed?”

“Quite a bit,” Alain replied. “You’ll be pleased to know your ship’s safe and sound. Managed to kill those two goons and slip it back into the docking bay. It’s waiting for you when you decide to leave. Managed to snag your weapons, too.”

“Thank you,” Tarhin nodded. “Truly.”

“It’s not all good news,” Alain continued, looking quite serious all of a sudden. “The Warden’s been sending reports all across Aoshtai, letting people know about what happened. I can’t imagine they’ll be well-received. We’ve already started repairing the damaged sectors and figuring out how Rigby and his raiders managed to carry all this out, but I think it’s gonna be a long time before anyone trusts us to hold dangerous criminals again.”

“What about Rigby and Verbrein?” Tarhin asked. “What’s happened to them?”

“Rigby’s being held here until his trial, if he ever gets one” Alain explained. “We’ve sent a report on his actions to the Karian government, so I guess it’s in their hands now. He got a replacement arm out of all this, too. Verbrein’s back in maximum security. We’re going to try and keep them separate, but I doubt that’ll be difficult.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You heard Rigby’s tirade about hunting down and killing prisoners,” Alain noted. “That’s the sort of attitude that doesn’t exactly incline one to making friends in a place like this, and he’s gonna need every friend he can get.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Tarhin nodded.

“Personally, I’m glad to see him behind bars,” Alain continued, looking grim. “At least he can’t do any more damage.”

“Don’t judge him too harshly,” Tarhin noted. “He’d been through a great deal.”

“We all have,” Alain replied. “I’ve been thinking it over while the docs fixed me up. In a way, he was right.”

Tarhin glanced at Alain, feeling surprised. It wasn’t like him to admit to being wrong about anything, let alone beliefs.

“What do you mean?”

“The war,” Alain explained, “it’s still hanging over a lot of people, and not everyone can just move on and put it behind them like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis, though it took him a few tries to do it. “I think that’s what he meant when he said ‘we’re still at war’.”

“An interesting theory,” Tarhin said appreciatively. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“I know I still keep thinking about it,” Alain said, looking down at his leg. “Do you?”

“Sometimes,” Tarhin nodded, “as I think about other things I’ve seen and done, but at the end of the day, I’m still able to put it aside when the job calls for it.”

“Guess that’s why you were so willing to hack off Rigby’s arm,” Alain laughed. He paused, as a moment of realisation dawned on his face. “Oh, speaking of job, that reminds me.” He dug into his scrubs pocket and drew out a thin datapad, which he handed to Tarhin.

“What’s this?” Tarhin asked.

“Your reward,” Alain smiled. “Don’t think I forgot. I spoke to the Warden about it the day after your fight. She was willing to add a considerable bonus for your help, and it was transferred to your account yesterday.”

Tarhin examined the datapad, and was incredibly satisfied with the size of this reward.

“Thank you,” he said appreciatively, handing Alain back the datapad.

“Don’t mention it,” Alain smiled. “So, I guess you’ll be off on your next job now, huh?”

“That’s right,” Tarhin nodded, standing up and heading for the workshop door.

“You know,” Alain said just before Tarhin reached the door, “next time you’re around here, we should catch up properly, yeah? Tell the old war stories and all that?”

Tarhin paused as he considered the idea. As much as he was known for in the war, there was much he hadn’t told anyone. Having a sympathetic ear, one who had gone through much of what he’d gone through as well wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“I’d like that.”

**Tarhin's adventures will continue in**

**For Hate's Sake**