And there she was.

Executor was a beautiful ship, her sweeping lines revealed bit by bit as the lights from Roman’s Fang traced the length of her hull. Her running lights were off, but emergency flashers at her nose and her tail showed she still had power. She didn’t answer Roman’s hail, but his scan detected life signs.

“Log Entry: Scout First Class Hayashi Roman. I’ve found Executor. She’s unresponsive, but ship AI has acknowledged my docking request. I’m going aboard.” After a pause, Roman added, “Delay sending that report until I tell you.”

“Understood,” his ship answered.

The demon had guided Roman here. What Roman didn’t understand was why, and until he had an idea of what waited, he wasn’t going to risk summoning the rest of the fleet. Even if an empath or two would have been useful.

He’d just have to keep from making any mistakes all on his own.

The demon had departed, flitting away into darkspace as soon as Executor had come in sight. Even so, Roman scanned the environment, made certain he was alone before sending out the signal that he wanted to land.

Executor was large enough to have a docking bay, and as Roman flew in, he flashed his lights around, looking for any movement. Empty. And all Executor’s fighters still seemed to be in their slips. Whatever had happened, they hadn’t had enough time to scramble. Either that, or the attack hadn’t come from the outside.

“What’s the environment like out there?”

“Executor life support functional. Gravity functional. Temperature within acceptable range. Hull breach on levels B-7 through B-9. Those sections have been sealed.”

Roman decided to wear his suit anyway.

“Keep track of me. If I die, send all long entries back to the Hub and start up a beacon.”

“Understood.”

Roman found the first bodies in the juncture outside the bay: soldiers in Suri uniform lying in pools of blood next to a pressure door that had been ripped in two.

Roman drew his sword, keeping it in hand as he crept through the halls, moving towards the bridge.

Further in, he found the first demon. An armored insectoid with eight limbs and pincers the size of Roman’s head. The dead Griffon all around had injured it badly, carving off enough of it with nima blades that it didn’t have the energy to reshape around its injuries. It couldn’t do more than twitch, struggling to lift its head as Roman approached.

Roman stepped up into the surrounding pool of blood and black ooze and swung at the demon’s head. His nima-blade flared blue as it struck and the creature’s head came cleanly off.

“It would not have attacked you.”

His demon escort had left, her voice was still with him. “I think I won’t take that chance.”

Laughter in his head was her response.

More pockets of bodies—both human and demon—littered his path as he moved deeper into the ship. He checked all the humans for signs of life of any sort and executed the demons. At the fourth of these scenes, he saw the telltale vein of black, mossy grown leading from one of the dead soldiers and reaching up the wall. “Log addendum: infestation confirmed. Akashics requested. End entry. New request: interface with Executor’s logs; find out how long since all this happened.”

“Nothing on this ship will harm you.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t take your word for that?”

His ship gave her report. “Eight hours since last movement recorded.”

Eight hours was more than enough time for an infestation to bloom. Demon energy worked fast. “Not that I’m complaining, but why aren’t these bodies back up and trying to take bites of me?”

His ship had no answer for that. It was a little outside the scope of what the AI could process.

“Someone’s alive. Or was when we landed. Give me directions to those life signs.”

A path illuminated on his visor. Roman followed it to the upper decks. Past more pressure doors that hadn’t held, a barricade that had been torn apart, and body after body after body.

In the passenger quarters, he found them. Unconscious, but with no visible injury. The ship captain, the Lords Suri, and what he assumed was their personal guard. They lay on the floor, in what would have looked like a peaceful sleep, if not for the floor, walls, and ceiling covered in pulsing black mold.

This was way over his pay grade. “Log addendum: ship searched. Survivors…unconfirmed. Systems seem to be intact. Request instruction. End entry. Go ahead and send that.”

Roman closed the door and headed to the bridge.

Another demon was waiting for him.

Not a horror, this one. It was wearing its human mask. A handsome one. Tall and dark with broad shoulders and sculpted muscles and a predatory smile on its handsome face. “Hayashi Roman,” it said, giving a sweeping bow. “I was told to wait for you.”

Roman pointed his sword at the creature. “Did you do all this?”

It laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent an involuntary shiver through Roman. “Not alone, certainly. No doubt you saw those of my brethren who fought. Just as you saw the bodies of those who tried to defend against us.”

He stepped forward and Roman caught the wafting scent of roses and smoke. Heat rushed through him so fast it made him weak, leaving tight arousal in its wake. Roman tightened his arm, pressed the tip of his blade right against the demon’s throat.

“He is a gift for you.”

“I don’t want…”

The demon smiled, a hungry smile that went straight to Roman’s cock.

This was why they warned you. This was why you were supposed to report dreams, strange contacts, all the things Roman had hidden before. Something had happened and Roman’s body was attuned, sensitive, wanting more.

Roman’s ship spoke. “Relay message from the Hub: we are to pilot Executor to Terris, where Imperial forces will take possession.”

As big and clumsy as Executor was, Roman wasn’t going to be able to squeeze it through a lot of gaps. This was going to be a slow flight.

“Why are you here?” Roman asked the demon standing before him. “What do you want with me?”

“You will fly this ship to Terris,” the demon said. He lifted his hand to Roman’s sword, slid his fingers lightly along the edge. A suggestive caress that Roman could almost feel. “When you arrive, there will be chaos, but no one will forget it was you who found poor, lost Executor.” His gaze locked on Roman’s as he caught his knuckle under the blade, inched it higher, leaned down, and licked slowly along the surface. “My mistress wants you to be remembered.”

“In the meanwhile,” the demon continued, “it will be hours before you reach a suitable breach for Terris-space. I can offer you ways to pass the time. Ways you have found enjoyable in the past.”

Roman’s body might be attuned to the demons now, but Roman was still in charge. He flicked his sword, nicking the edge along the demon’s throat. It drew back, hissing, as the nima blade broke skin.

“Get out. Now. You and any other demons still on this ship.”

For just a moment, the demon’s mask slipped, its face twisting and distorting into a snarl with too many eyes and teeth. Then it regained control, gave a smile and a bow. “Until next time, Hayashi Roman.”

It dissolved, and with it went the smell of roses and the sound of whispers. Roman was left alone. “Interface with Executor’s navigation controls,” he said to his listening ship. “Let’s get this done.”