“No, I’m not messing with you, I swear. As I said, I was on a station out in the boonies for H&H’s Recon Fleet. We were scanning for Heaven’s Doctrine forces at the time. As we’re preparing for this massive assault on the nearby colony, suddenly the whole fleet backs off. For whatever reason, they just turn tail and go back home. And as they warp back to god knows what clanspace hellhole they came from, I see what had just come on the intersystem network – the goddamn season six finale of ‘Trapped Together’. No, I am not shitting you. That’s how influential that crappy show was. It made the clanlords stop raids to watch it. Yeah, I know they’re not meant to get CCH transmissions, but do you really think Glass Tip really cares about piracy, and not the ship boarding kind, instead of finding new celebrities to plaster across Titanlock? Didn’t think so. I mean, fuck me, the guy next to me that day started crying and saying stuff in some other language. German maybe? What the hell does ‘kino’ mean?” – Freya Quinn, Ex-Intersystem Data Analyst for Henry and Huell Incorporated, 2251. Retrieved from ‘A Study of Neo-Wave Media vs Proto-Wave Media – Section Ten: TV Shows (Non-Chrome Mecha Related)’.

  Adin Pike’s seat felt rather uncomfortable as he watched a pair of borged up twins making out when they should have been planning out a terrorist attack. Why the hell couldn’t he discussing the plan with Dobermann already? Hell, why wasn’t he anywhere else other than in front of an incestuous pair of psychopathic cyborgs? In the few minutes he had spent in the company of the Oleg siblings, Adin was struggling to avoid looking on in horror as he waited for the close, far too close, family members to finish their business.

  How the hell had he gotten in this situation? He sure has hell didn’t expect to meet them in person until the mission began. Basilisk, as they had titled themselves, was meant to be a secret group, and the identities of its members unknown when the assault finally occurred. Having the ex-clanlords turn up on Adin’s doorstep was hardly the most inconspicuous way for them to communicate, but seeing the pair of heavily augmented and highly dangerous warlords in person left him with little recourse. Admittedly, they had disguised themselves well – the advanced facecamo and party-goer outfits they wore would have fooled any other corporate suit that had come across them. Just a shame they had used the private landing codes he’d given them in case of an emergency weeks before.

  Goddamnit, they were meant to be used for serious situations, not spontaneous tea times! And yet, that was where Adin found himself – serving drinks to the duo that he had agreed to work with for some idiotic reason. Still, the tea was good at least. Adin had spent some of his personal wealth after years in Second Sun Limited on the mansion, located on a private asteroid connected to Titanlock via a tether line, and the luxury of his home was being enjoyed by his guests at least. Minimalist furniture and sleek glass edges made up the open living room they found themselves in with a whole wall seemingly open to the vacuum of space. It was, in reality, a clever trick of architecture and design that only gave the impression of being close to the void, but worked well enough.

  Despite the utus Adin had poured into the building, his two visitors had been more interested in one another so far. Stifling a sigh of relief, they separated as Roksana shuffled over to let Yuri spread his huge frame over the black sofa.

  “So, cowboy,” Yuri said. “Nice place you got here. Not sure why you need Basilisk if you’ve already got such a sweet home though.”

  Adin cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Well, partner, that’s the thing about money – the more you have in your hands, the lighter it starts to feel after a while. And let me tell you, I’ve got big palms.”

  It was, of course, a lie. Each member of Basilisk probably had enough funds to live in comfort for the rest of their lives, besides maybe Juno, without the mission. None of them were planning a raid on the Tylas for the sake of something as meaningless as having more money to waste. No, real change was what each of them likely needed, something that mere finances couldn’t provide. Thankfully, the ex-clanlords were brazen in their motivations against the Corpse Emperor, though Adin felt that there could be more to their goal. As for himself… If Adin made himself out to be a money-hungry cowboy LARPer as much as possible, perhaps his guests would believe that to be true.

  No, if there was anything Adin hated in the CCH it was how the dream of excessive wealth drove people give up the part of their soul that made them a person. If there was any way of describing Titanlock to someone who had never seen it, he wouldn’t call it the ‘last city of humanity as some dubbed it, nor would he even give it the dignity of saying it was ‘rough but provided opportunities’.

  No. To Adin, Titanlock was a black hole of greed that sucked everyone in, including those wishing to be a part of the system or otherwise. If it wasn’t for the companies that devolved love and effort down to some quantifiable, marketable integer for shareholders who lusted after a few more digits to their bank balance, Adin would have no need for such drastic measures as terrorism. But those companies existed and those sorts of people still breathed, and thus he found himself in his current predicament. Though the CCH was an overall rotten system, there was one monument to greed within its foundations he found most egregious, his true goal. Black Sun Enterprises.

  Snapping back to reality, Yuri at least seemed to take Adin’s words for granted with a pleased snort, “Yes, that is true, Pike. Money is always good. Of course, we need to actually prepare this plan before we can actually start talking about success, yes?”

  “Indeed. Do you and Roksana have any reservations before we begin?” Adin reached under his lounger to reveal a box of data tablets and paper documents, easily disposable, before tossing them onto the table.

  Roksana, aloof and checking the nails on her hand still made of flesh, shrugged.

  “Nope,” she said. “As long as you don’t treat us and our men as disposable, then I’m fine with whatever you have in mind.”

  “Indeed,” Yuri growled. “We’ve had enough of such a feeling during our short tenure as the Corpse Emperor’s toys.”

  Adin saw the way his fists curled into balls in his lap as the older Olegovich’s view became focused on something not in the room, something in the past. The distant glint of someone reliving pain and torment, over and over. A reflexive twitch of Yuri’s upper lip, a symbiosis of metal and skin shuddering only completed his look of utter rage.

  “Gosh, that’s fine by me,” Adin said. “No way in hell I’d suggest something like that.”

  He actually had devised a possible risky play involving the twins using drop pods, but quickly erased that idea from the list he had mentally made. No way anyone would risk using a drop pod within Kral’Thul – the, admittedly small, risk of missing the target and descending into the green mists below the asteroids was a worrying possibility. “I’ve obviously got some broader plans here, but I want some general thoughts.”

  Adin tapped a couple buttons on the data slates and brought up a schematic of the ‘Nucleus’ research centre he had discovered through his spies. It had taken some effort from the few agents he had in the nearby settlement of Birkdale’s Gate to get the information he needed, but it had been well worth the struggle. The entire facility was focused on research and development as part of the IGS, and was bound to have both cutting edge human technology, as well as shared Tylas tech on file. Frankly, it felt as though the stars had aligned for Basilisk – any other attempt to get at any worthwhile data from the alien race was bound to be costly in lives and resources.

  “My current route of attack at the moment would be to use the system access codes I will acquire as part of Second Sun’s involved in the Symposium.

  Those will allow our infiltrator ships to pass undetected and will stop that floating varmints from shooting us down immediately. We can set up a diversion in Birkdale’s Gate, and then enter this R&D facility through the underside of the asteroid it sits on. The Nucleus facility has utility tunnels dug deep into its rocky foundations, and the position will give us some protection should the Tylas military catch wind of the mission. It’s gonna be relatively safe, won’t cost us much blood, as I doubt the scientists and guards are gonna put up much of a struggle. All goes well, we can be out before anyone had any real idea of what was going on, and we can ride off into the sunset scott-free.”

  Adin was proud of this plan. The graphics on the devices, two of which Yuri surveyed in a single, rough hand, showed optimal times for the diversion to instil mass confusion amongst the major corporations, and where best for the assault squads to enter from. Most importantly, whilst Adin had thought he had discarded whatever morals he needed for his revenge to succeed, he still found the cost of lives a sickening notion. Despite everything, he hated the idea of wasteful bloodshed, especially those not involved in the games of the corporations.

  Yuri, however, didn’t seem convinced. “Hmm. That might work. However, I want to get something more than technology out of this. I don’t just want some blueprints from some snot nosed pencil pushers – I want something more… physical. Dangerous.”

  Physical? Damn it. “Alright, what are you thinking?” Adin rubbed his mutton chops.

  Yuri looked over the diagrams for a moment, expression unchanging, before he replied. “The shipyards. Where would they be?”

  “Ah. Well, Urestior itself has a number of dockyards for their ships on the exterior rim but-“

  “Then I will send most of my forces there. I will give a few squads for your plan, as I don’t think you need all of my men for such a clean operation. After the distraction, I’ll set off a few missiles into Urestior, take out a few of the shipyards before taking a few of their crafts for myself.”

  Adin arched a brow. Yuri’s plan sounded like he had been thinking about it for a while, a little too prepared. “Well, it sounds like you’ve had that bee in your bonnet for a while, partner. Might I ask why you want to go that far? Surely the separatist factions could make the ships themselves eventually?”

  Both twins shot him a glare, Roksana pausing from flipping her data tablet in the air and Yuri hardening his stare over his own pair. Neither party said a word for a bit before Yuri grinned.

  “Fine, cowboy. Let me tell you why. When we set sail on Kral-Thul, we aren’t going to be flying separatist ships or colours – I want to be going as loyal Doctrine clans.”

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  “Wha- why?” Adin gawped.

  Adin really didn’t want to have to explain that to Citra. Despite how uncomfortable the twins made him, Citra was the team member he was truly afraid of most. He had almost gone ahead without her involvement, had she not been the participant with the most ship for transport and troops with the highest capability for damage should things go sideways.

  “Simply put, we want this attack to be at least a little visible. To spit in the eye of the old crusty bastard who fucked us up. Right now, he’s not on good terms with any of the alien species, but if we can get the Tylas pissed at the Doctrine over this, it might tip the favour of our side in the civil war. Understand?”

  “That, and I also want to steal a few Tylas as pets,” Roksana interjected, having returned to aloofly staring at the ceiling. “They seem so light and fluffy. Like a living cloud!”

  Well shit. That made the plan a lot louder and bloodier than he had hoped. Still, he could perhaps work with that. He could try to ease down the level of engagement of the twins as the plan progressed over the next few months, and perhaps make their part of the plan to be the distraction itself, but it would be a tough sell to some of the others. At least, he hoped so.

  “And Citra? How do you think she would take that part of the plan?”

  “What about her?” Yuri said, shrugging. “Does she need to know? Just tell her that we’re doing something special, let her have some fun with whoever she gets her hands on, and she’ll probably play ball.”

  “And if I want to tell her what you have in store?” Adin leaned forward, locking eyes with Yuri.

  “Depends. Who do you want to piss off more – us or her? We are the ones in your house at the moment. How quick are your guards, cowboy?”

  Adin waited a moment before relinquishing with false chuckling. “Fair point. I’ll make something up for her.”

  Shit. That was a big change to his scheme, but figured he could spin it in a certain way. Adin was sure that Citra might ask for similar adjustments, coming from a clan all about hunting and all. In that moment, he realised he could probably send both loyal and traitorous Heaven’s Doctrine members to deal with the Tylas directly whilst he, Juno and Dobermann stealthily infiltrated Nucleus. That could work. Still, he wanted to push back at least a little against Yuri, mostly to not seem as passive as he had been so far.

  “Alright, Yuri, you’ve got a deal there. However, in exchange for zipping my lips about this to Clanlady Vigino, I want you to avoid hitting the city’s religious district – focus on the military.”

  Yuri tilted his head. “I mean, sure? I was going to be focusing on the fleet, but why does it matter if we hit their little alien cathedrals?”

  “Because, Yuri, the Baraldian Heralds aren’t just a little religious. Barald is effectively alien Jesus on steroids. He is the personification of all that is good with their people. Despite them hating us for violating what their god, Barald, has taught them, they also believe that they should try to pity their lessers. If you go for their religion, you won’t just make this a standard retaliatory war against the Emperor – you’ll make this a holy war against all of humanity, and probably the Cambiar by association. Sure, we’d probably win, but it would cost us in the long run. I assume you want the separatists of clan space to actually trade with the Tylas once you’ve won your civil war?”

  Honestly, despite the high stakes of the meeting, Adin saw the humour in seeing Yuri’s previously viscous and serious expression change to one of pure embarrassment. “Hmm. That… makes sense. Fine, fine, we can do that.” Whether Yuri actually would go ahead with Adin’s advice was uncertain. He had nodded along to the instruction but who knew what would happen once the operation was underway.

  “As long as we get a few slaves though!” Roksana said, leaning up against Yuri.

  “Of course, darling. Anything for you, dear.”

  Yuri and Roksana moved to engage in another kiss. Christ. At that moment Adin was very glad he was an only child. Part of him realised it was stupid to worry about incestuous snogging when planning a terrorist attack, but part of him, still clinging to basic human ethics, was still disgusted by the act. It was this same morality, something he had hoped he had fully abandoned in his quest, that left a deep ache in his chest. Could he seriously go through with the plan? He had spent countless hours in preparation and more money than he cared to admit organising the other members efforts as part of Basilisk, but still the feeling of reluctance clung to him. Adin stood and turned to look out one of the nearby windows, letting the ex-clanlord and lady couple their lips together once more.

  Was this what Sebastian would have wanted? When the time came, when Adin met the end of his journey, would his old friend approve of what he had needed to sacrifice for his dream of revenge? Remembering his friend’s face, his blood brother, left a bitter feeling in his mouth. It had been over a decade, but to Adin it still felt like yesterday when he heard the news of his friend’s demise at the hands of the Black Sun Executives poor Sebastian had attempted to ingratiate himself with. The duo’s plan had been a simple one, born of idealism and hope.

  After leaving their initial studies, the two made a life-long goal to reform the two corporations that had split from the Earthborn company Solarian, Black Sun Enterprises and Second Sun Limited, back into a single whole. It would have taken years, and no small amount of blood, sweat and tears, but Adin and Sebastian wanted to create a new combined company that would lead the CCH out of the pit of stunted expansion it found itself after finding itself pinned between Heaven’s Doctrine and Paradise. However, just as Adin had made serious headway within Second Sun, through a mixture of dirty deeds and blackmail, his friend had let his sense of judgment undermine his efforts.

  The morning after his friend’s last message, a text of good wishes and high spirits, his body was found in the gutters of the lower strata of Titanlock.

  From that moment onwards, Adin had shattered the promise he made to Sebastian to reform Solarian, and instead sought nothing but the destruction of Black Sun. No matter the cost. Reality and cynicism were a bitter pill, but ones he needed to swallow.

  Or so, he had thought. The idea of arriving at Kral-Thul, initial expectations of a mostly bloodless operation snuffed out by rest of Basilisk’s own desires, was giving him pause. How many more Adins and Sebastians would he be creating through the destruction he may brought? Hell, he imagined Birkdale’s Gate going up in flames, and saw hundreds more junior employees of the corporations swearing bloody revenge upon him. Another faceless corporate suit sowing seeds of despair for a crumb of power. An endless cycle of hate and death that he had only fuelled.

  But as payback for Sebastian’s death, anything was a worthwhile cost. Or maybe, almost anything.

  Adin looked back only to see the pair continuing to eat each other’s faces. Adin attempted to distract himself by preparing some of private notes. However, just as he had put pen to paper, Yuri broke the kiss and looked his way. He hoped that Yuri hadn’t found a new target to engage in French-tonguing with when the cyborg spoke.

  “So, quick shooter, money’s one thing, but what are you gonna do with it? What the real goal?”

  Ah, so Yuri hadn’t quite bought his flimsy excuse earlier.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely, how do you feel about me at the top of the CCH? I sure think it sounds good. I’ve got the mind, you see, where others lack it. If I’ve got the chance to get Second Sun ahead of the other corps and can get the CCH’s economy back on the upswing, then I’m going for it.” Adin lied again.

  “Not bad,” Yuri nodded, looking Adin up and down. “I can live with that. Would be kind of funny having a cowboy like you leading the rest of those stock market clowns about. Ah, no offense.”

  “None taken. How about you two? Already know about helping your side of the civil war, but what else?”

  “Hmm. Honestly? Mostly as a safety measure. Whether we win the war by killing the Corpse Emperor…” Yuri almost made the movement to spit on the floor before he remembered where he was and reversed his action, swallowing. “Or if we just split apart clanspace, the galaxy is changing. That much is certain. And not just with aliens being found, though that did kick all this off. No, this is fate -a war we must all partake in or else. We’re all god’s children, and he has left us in a hot atmos-craft. By the time someone cracks a window open, only a few of us are going to be left.”

  Despite the absurd metaphor, Adin had to agree. It had only been a few years since the discovery of the Cambiar, but more had changed in that short time frame than in the previous three decades. The CCH’s economy had stagnated and Heaven’s Doctrine’s eternal war had creeped to a stalemate across its borders with Paradise. Since the New Horizons incident, however, Paradise had shifted his aim to engaging a random Cambiar civilisation far out of the way of any human space, the Doctrine had split apart, and the CCH was scrambling to secure power after Henry and Huell crumbled. The megacorporations were not as immortal as they had once assumed.

  There was tension in the air, and whether or not Basilisk acted, the stakes were being raised everywhere. More advanced cyborgs and soldiers were being used for even minor engagements, colonies were sprouting up left, right and centre, and the very technology that had secured humanity’s escape to the stars had become outclassed by the Cambiar following Keepergate. Unless something put the brakes all across the galaxy, the situation would fall into absolute anarchy. There were waves rippling across the universe, and all Adin could do was ride them, lest he be swept away. His thoughts were broken by Yuri one last time.

  “That being said, all this talk of great change and terrorist schemes is one thing,” Yuri suddenly stood and looked down on Adin, his bulky form casting a shadow across the businessman. “But you want to know what I really want, Pike? More than anything right now?”

  “Even me?” Roksana said, trying to catch her lover’s gaze and failing. Yuri, for once, didn’t respond.

  Uh, shit. He had hoped the ex-clanlord would be mostly calm during the meeting, but had he misjudged the man? Talked for too long? Adin was considering hitting the panic switch under a pillow next to him when Yuri instead turned and walked over to his liquor cabinet. Honestly, at that moment, Adin was happy to lose an expensive bottle of alcohol if it meant not having the mechanical beast looming over him. He was surprised to see Yuri steer clear of any of the expensive brands and reach towards the back for a dirt cheap one, a vodka from the looks of it. It would appear the Olegovich had a certain taste in spirits.

  Returning with a glass of clear liquid, he sat and sipped.

  “What I really want is to see Mikhail dead.”

  Roksana stopped stiff as Yuri said the name. The brute of a man seemed to darken at the very thought of the well-known military leader of the Ten-Tri empire.

  “Your… brother? Mikhail ‘One-Shot’?”

  “Hmm, yes,” The nickname seemed to stick in Yuri’s mouth like a venom. “If we get the chance during the mission, hopefully before but most likely after, I want to go to the Cambiar museum on the edge of Kral-Thul.”

  “The one owned by Berhltine, the collector? I mean, sure. Is Mikhail going to be there?”

  “Ha! I wish! No, but I’ve heard his blade Cassaria was stolen some time back, and that the greedy little alien that runs the place has it. I want to buy it off him. Even if Mikhail is out of my reach, damn that bastard, I want something to screw him over. If that means his precious little blade, then so be it. Besides, if I keep a hold of his little blade long enough, perhaps he’ll come to me.”

  “A meeting with Berhltine… He’s a difficult man to get an appointment with, but it could be doable. I’ll do what I can to arrange something.”

  Yuri nodded and gestured with the glass, “I would personally appreciate it.”

  Agreements made, and hands shaken, the twins took their leave. With a blown kiss from Roksana and an enthusiastic ‘ciao’ from Yuri, they finally left his home. Thankfully, Adin’s service crew were able to get them back to their ship without any further issues. Adin only realised once his staff announced their departure that his heart had been thumping like an engine the whole time. Step one of the plan had been vaguely set out; all he needed to do was to convince the other members to go along with it.

  As the intruders’ ship finally left Titanlock’s space, Adin’s mind tried to fully make sense of the scale of the operation once more. Various words from the meeting with the duo had put his mind in a whirl as he slowly assorted the various places and people he needed to plan and work around. Still, despite the tactics of warlords and crime bosses taking up the majority of his attention, the face of his old friend still stood at the forefront – a revenant that wouldn’t leave. Damnit Sebastian, was this enough? Would this make up for all the years wasted by being part of the CCH’s sick system?

  Gods, he wished he knew for sure. Adin Pike found himself stumbling towards the alcohol cabinet for some chemical reprieve. It was going to be a long few months before any sense of satisfaction would be felt, but perhaps the reward would be worth it in the end. One step at a time.