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  “I kind of want to be out there too,” Arnold said as they walked down the corridor. “I’ve done some fighter training. I loved piloting the Rapture, and I know we have some corvettes, but I don’t know, it won’t be the same. I want to be in a Peregrine or Raptor rather than this slow-ass heavy cruiser. You think you could put a good word in for me? I’d love to do that transfer.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Elijah locked eyes with Arnold. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “You aren’t the same person I met on Rapture.”

  “I’ve grown up a little.”

  “Sure. I know you have been drinking,” Elijah calmly said. “Although there is an age-restriction on drinking, that doesn’t mean you have to drink more as you get older.”

  “Oh come on. I enjoy alcohol. It’s not an effing crime.”

  “Never said it was,” Elijah said. “I’m worried about you, Arnold.”

  Arnold growled, “I can’t believe this! This was a mistake. I should’ve known! We could’ve got Rapture fixed back up and did mercenary work, but you wanted to get back in that fighter seat and you had some grandiose idea to get us into the Fleet as well. Guess what? Maybe we don’t effing want to be here.”

  “I meant no disrespect,” Elijah insisted.

  “Get out of my face.” Arnold shoved Elijah out of the way. “You aren’t part of the crew anymore.”

  Elijah sighed.

  “Hey Jake and Sharon, what are you two doing later tonight?” Jaxon Knight asked.

  “Um.” Sharon looked at Jacob with expectant eyes.

  “Oh, uh. We don’t have anything planned.” Jacob glanced at Sharon. “... I think.”

  Sharon laughed. “We don’t have anything planned.”

  Jaxon smiled. “Great. Now, if you want, well, have you heard about the Daybreak Crusade?”

  “Say what?” Jacob said.

  “Lieutenant Aiden Alexander runs a meeting with likeminded individuals every Monday night. It’s called the Daybreak Crusade because, well, it’s very anti-vampire. With all the talks of peace still going through and the rumors of vampires being behind the entire attack over Artemis, it’s a terrific forum for discussion about the potential threat of the Blood Dynasty. What do you guys think? Are vampires to be trusted?”

  Jacob shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “I am uneasy whenever I hear Mabus’ voice, honestly. I do not trust them,” Sharon said.

  “Well, if you want to hear some deep discussion about the real enemy, feel free to stop by. Some of us want to literally drive the stake, not just in a virtual reality environment. Trust me, those disgusting vampires aren’t that tough. We’re meeting tonight at Hotshot’s at 1900 hours, it’s a bar on deck six in the civilian sector if you haven’t been.”

  Large warships, especially Judgment-class heavy cruisers, have “civilian sectors.” Over three hundred passengers not necessarily connected to the military also made the capital ship their home. It was a risk, working and living in a town that existed inside a warship, but the living conditions onboard warships were generally more pleasant than a fringe world or decrepit space station.

  Jacob nodded. “Thanks, man, we’ll see you there.”

  Jaxon saluted. “It’d be great to have you guys. And hey, we’ll blow up that last cruiser next time.”

  Jaxon made his way out of the training bridge.

  “So, we’re going?” Sharon asked Jacob.

  Jacob shrugged. “I guess. Do you believe that? Vampires are disgusting?”

  “Pale isn’t sexy.”

  “I’m pale!”

  “You aren’t sexy.” Sharon smirked.

  Jacob laughed. “Eff you.”

  Sharon smiled. “Maybe later.”

  December 1, 0270 AC – 08:30

  Babylon

  Blood Dynasty Space

  “Father...”

  “Son? Is that you? They... tell me I have been in a coma for two years.”

  Drake Mabus nodded. “It is me. And yes, it’s been a long time.”

  The room was shrouded in darkness. Drake could barely see his father’s face. His father, Damien Mabus, was lying in a medical bed. Myriads of tubes and wires ran into the old man. Damien’s weathered face was scrunched in pain.

  Damien coughed. “What... happened?”

  “You fell a great distance from your chamber’s balcony. You hit your head, among other things, hard. You managed to survive, barely.”

  “And you became the prince regent.”

  “Yes, I am regent.”

  “Will... Will I rule again?”

  “Perhaps. There hasn’t been an official coronation for myself to become king. They were waiting for you to wake up... I never thought you would.”

  Damien smiled. “My son, of course I would.”

  Drake paused and stared at his father. The devices in the room beeped. The beeping was the only noise that broke the silence.

  Drake finally spoke, “These machines keep you alive. Your insides were obliterated from the fall. The initial reports were that you died. We had a funeral. Lieutenant Thorne had another idea. You became his Frankenstein monster. Only a handful know you are alive.”

  “If you call this alive. It hurts.”

  “Shall I take you out of your misery?”

  “No, son. No. I will regain my throne. I must keep our worlds safe from the approaching darkness.”

  “I have the throne. I will keep it. Why haven’t I officially become king yet? We laugh and say it is because of politics. It’s because of you. You refuse to die.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Damien said.

  Drake turned his back. “Is it? I have done far more than you to secure the Mabus family name. There are plans in motion to rule the entire galaxy.”

  Damien coughed. “No, no. It is not necessary. There is no reason for that.”

  Drake turned to his father. “Of course there is. We will rule. I have friends that will help me accomplish my goals. Our goals.”

  “Friends? You talked to them, didn’t you?”

  “You refused to cooperate with the benefactors. I will be immortal. I will rule the galaxy forever.”

  “No, they will. You will be put to the side. Please tell me you didn’t negotiate with them,” Damien said.

  Drake chuckled. “What do you know? What did you accomplish under your rule? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! You squandered your time! I will set this galaxy ablaze and the vampire race shall reign forever!”

  A look of horror spread across Damien’s face. “My son you have made a grave mistake. Please listen to me. Do not listen to them. Please. I will tell you everything I know.”

  Drake scoffed, “Why didn’t they just let you die?”

  “Please, son. Listen to me. I’ve been where you are. I understand. It’s not right. None of this is right. We must stop the darkness. Together.”

  “Alright, father.”

  Drake leaned down and kissed his father’s forehead.

  “You know, someone attempted to murder you that day two years ago,” Drake said.

  Damien looked up to his son.

  “They promised me so much,” Drake said. “They said I have so much potential. I can’t turn back now.”

  “Son, son... do you know who tried to murder me?”

  Drake whispered in Damien’s ear. “I did.”

  Drake pulled a handful of tubes and wires out of his father. The old man screamed in pain. Blood sprayed from the tubes that Drake was holding. Drake tossed the wires and sputtering tubes away.

  Damien struggled to breathe. “My son. My son. There’s... there’s a chance. You know—you know you aren’t my only—you weren’t my only son. The throne isn’t... yours... the... throne... is...”

  The beeping became a steady tone.

  Drake pondered on his father’s last words. He shrugged. Drake wiped some of the blood on his hands onto his clothes.

  Drake yelled, trying to get the attention o
f someone outside the room. “Nurse! Nurse! There’s been a problem!”

  December 1, 0270 AC – 11:59

  Bridge, USS Empyrean

  Edge of Galactic Union Space

  Jacob Carpenter and Sharon Rose Turner entered into the bridge of Empyrean. The circular bridge was separated into two different levels. Many computer systems and auxiliary stations were humming on the ring of the upper level. A stairway as well as a ramp led to the lower level of the bridge, where the majority of the command terminals resided. A large holographic projector was stationed in the center of the room. The entire bridge was designed with clean sharp edges. Many panels and computer screens were placed across the gray centaurite steel walls.

  The steel most warships were built out of was an alloy of centaurite and carbon. Centaurite was a dense iron-like element first found in the Alpha Centauri system. Centaurite steel was chiefly used in warship construction. Kinetic weaponry still used depleted uranium and tungsten rounds for the most part.

  Jacob locked eyes with one of the marines that was watching over the bridge. Jacob politely nodded. The marine just stared.

  Captain John Devereaux paced the lower level around the projector. A hologram of a planet was hovering in the air. Jacob overheard a crew member say something about a riot.

  There were four stations around the projector. Each of these stations had two computer systems with a comfortable chair in front of them. There was also a smaller console near the projector for the senior command.

  Jacob and Sharon joined Trevor and Arnold near the engineering station. Commander Ember Skyrift walked up to Captain John Devereaux and said something. He glanced at the planet hologram and looked back at her and nodded. She shrugged and looked back toward the honorary lieutenants and then said something else. Devereaux nodded.

  “What’s going on?” Sharon inquired.

  “Riots on planet Zeta Volantis III of the Confederate state of Sol,” Arnold explained. “Again.”

  “Do you think the Confederates will ask for Union help again?” Sharon asked.

  Trevor laughed. “Fat chance of that now. Well, they might ask but the Union won’t lift a finger. There’s a slim chance the Union will help. Hey, isn’t it odd that fat chance and slim chance mean the exact same thing?”

  “There are riots there a lot, right?” Jacob asked.

  “I don’t know the politics of the area, but considering people think the Confederation was behind the attack over Artemis, the hornet’s nest is getting stirred up again,” Arnold said.

  “There are mass riots on planet Epsilon and Ryukyu Prime as well,” Trevor said. “Orion is destabilizing. The Emperor and his Council are having a hard time dealing with it. Things are starting to get violent.”

  “And I doubt anyone wants the Union to get caught up in it,” Sharon said.

  Ember Skyrift approached them. “A lot of data is coming through the feeds right now,” she said. “Still waiting for Command to see if they want us to help the Confederation. We are relatively close to Zeta Volantis III. We’re trying to sift through the chaotic information we’re getting. However, I would like to go over some basic things right now.”

  “Sir, may I ask, do you think we’re going to help with the riots?” Sharon asked.

  “No. Probably not. Unless things get much, much worse.” Skyrift sighed. “It’s probably for the best. It’s not our battle.”

  Skyrift walked over to the engineering station. “Raise your hand if you know the answer. Can anyone tell me the usual two systems that are controlled on this station?”

  Sharon raised her hand.

  “Ms. Turner.”

  Sharon straightened her posture. “Main engineering and damage control.”

  When the ship needed additional crew to run the ship, such as during Con-1 or Con-2, the entirety of each station would be manned. During a slow day, one crewman would be able to work on the entire console. There were additional auxiliary stations located on the upper ring.

  Skyrift nodded. “Exactly. Can someone else tell me the other three stations?”

  Jacob spoke up. “Communications, navigations, and tactical.”

  “Mr. Reynolds, what is tactical used for?”

  “Uh,” Trevor said. “Shooting up the enemy.”

  Skyrift smiled and managed to keep herself from laughing. “Mr. Lawrence, what is the task of the communications system during a battle?”

  “Consolidating and relaying important battle information to the command officers so they can make important command decisions,” Arnold responded.

  “Very good, Mr. Lawrence,” Skyrift said.

  Skyrift continued asking questions about the bridge to the four friends. Jacob couldn’t help but notice the rotating holographic model of the planet. A red flashing circle appeared. The bridge burst into activity. Skyrift glanced at the captain. He frowned.

  “What was that?” Jacob asked.

  “An explosion...” Skyrift said. “Dismissed.”

  Secret Military Installation

  Sagittar

  Edge of Blood Dynasty Space

  The pain was unbearable. It felt like something was swimming in his head. Then he realized something else was there. He wasn’t alone in his own mind.

  “Oh. You are awake,” said a pale man.

  The pale man wore a lab coat that was stained with blood. His hair was messy and frizzled. A protective mask obscured the bottom of his face. This man was probably a vampire.

  “He had some difficulty with you,” the vampire said. “You are to be commended, you resisted a very long time, Mr. Gunner.”

  Knave Gunner coughed up blood.

  Where was he? The room was shrouded in darkness. A dim light shown down on the vampire in the room with Knave. A table with surgical tools was to Knave’s left. A large silver chest was on the ground. And a lot of blood. His own blood?

  “Who are you?” Knave grunted. “What’s going on?”

  The mystery man bowed before Knave. “Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Tobias Thorne. Also let me introduce someone else... in your head.”

  “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

  Thorne giggled. “I know, I know. You were chosen to help us. We’re monitoring your status. I surely hope you don’t catch my vampirism! We’re being very careful! We need you to be a lowly ‘normal’ for the mission. A mission you wouldn’t accept otherwise.”

  “What are you talking about? Where’s my crew?”

  “Eliminated. I’m sorry. It was for the best. We didn’t want to complicate matters any further.”

  “Eliminated?!” Knave shouted.

  “You were hired to help us with a discovery of immense proportions on Aisu IV. It was so immense that we had to take precautions to make sure the information didn’t get out. You were lucky, though. We decided that you could be useful to us. You will tell anyone who asks that there was a bandit attack that killed most of your crew. The bandits stole all of the scientific gear. Fortunately, you survived.”

  “This is a joke. What the eff are you talking about? What—what is this thing?”

  Thorne chortled. “Isn’t it amazing? We call them imps. This little bugger drills into your skull and makes you do what we want you to. It has been programmed to obey us. We’re pretty sure it’s not defective; it’s a very hardy specimen. You still resisted it; I was impressed, really! Your time for resisting is over. If you begin to do anything that interferes with your new mission you will feel pain. You will start to bleed from your mouth and nose. It’s quite gruesome.”

  “I will not be some...” Knave coughed. “...Some vampire lackey.”

  “You can’t stop it.”

  The vampire was right. As much as Knave didn’t want him to be, he was right. There was some sort of creature inside Knave’s skull. It was a complete violation.

  Thorne continued, “You will be assigned to infiltrate the Marauding Mad Cats. You have some history with Teresa Day, correct?”

  “You god damn
son of a bitch.” Blood started to drip from Knave’s nose.

  “She is an agent of the Enemy. You will murder Ms. Day.”

  “I would never murder her. Eff you and eff this effing—”

  “You don’t get it. It’s not up to you. We control your fate. You will kill her. You can’t resist us. As I said, you have a very good specimen inside of you.”

  “Eff that. I’m a better specimen.”

  Thorne grinned. “Oh, you poor soul.”

  “It would have been better if you murdered me too.”

  Thorne cocked his head. “Why is that?”

  “You let me live. I will find a way to get this thing out of my head and I will murder you,” Knave said as blood streamed out of his nose. Knave coughed up blood.

  “I highly doubt that. You have your mission. We will let you go back to the Silver Cove. You will have quite the sob story to tell. Good luck.”

  “Eff off.”

  December 1, 0270 AC – 19:00

  Hotshot’s Bar, USS Empyrean

  Edge of Galactic Union Space

  “Thanks everyone for coming. Looks like we got some new faces out there, too.”

  The room was fairly crowded. Jacob did notice a few familiar faces. Jacob looked over to Jaxon Knight sitting on a bench near the podium. Jaxon had a big grin on his face.

  Jacob and Sharon shared a small table near the corner of the room. Jacob figured this venue was built for small concerts, standup comedy nights, or other small events. The bar proper was through an open door. A few guests peeked in to see what was happening in the venue.

  At the podium was a large, burly man. He had an impressive mustache that curled along his face. Jacob knew him as Lieutenant Aiden Alexander, the navigations officer of Empyrean.