They were an assorted bunch—thieves, smugglers, mercenaries... A few of them had served in the Imperial army but had since seen the light. All of them were free men who wanted nothing but to help others gain that same freedom.

But freedom came at a price.

None knew this better than Peter Corenth.

He had lost many of his friends to this cause; would lose many more before he was done.

They had gathered aboard Helix, a ship he knew well. It had been a part of his army, once upon a time. An army he would raise once again.

“Most of them are on Pluvios,” said Helga.

“I suspected as much.” Peter considered the maps that floated in the air between them. His friends had marked all the worlds where they knew for sure some of their old crew now lived. They shone as bright red spots. There were hundreds of them. “We’ll start there. Then we’ll get the others.”

“We’ll spread the word ahead of us.”

“People won’t believe it until they see him,” said Granksh. “Hell, I see him and I still can’t believe it!”

They all laughed.

Peter smiled. “In the beginning it will be a hard sell, but things will change as our army grows.”

“There are more Impies in the rim now than ever before,” remarked Helga. “It could prove challenging.”

He shrugged. “I always liked a challenge. Besides, I bet we’ll grow faster now than before...”

“Impies won’t know what hit them,” snickered Andron.

There were others there as well—a dozen, he’d counted. Helga had called them and they had come. Many stared at Peter as if he was a saint come back from the dead. While he would have contested the first part, he couldn’t argue with the second.

“To Pluvios, then,” said Helga.

“To Pluvios!” they all cried out.

As Helix took off, Peter went to the window and watched Ovkan grow smaller and smaller underneath them. Somewhere down there was his sister. He wondered if he would ever see her again.

It was not being negative, he decided, it was being realistic. It was a dangerous life he led. While it was one he had chosen for himself, it was not one Val had chosen. She could not understand. She never had and likely never would.

He had decided a long time ago never to rest until he had set things right. His time on Braxia had not altered his resolve. If anything, it had strengthened it. He would return, more powerful than ever, and the Emperor would tremble.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

He glanced to his right and saw Helga staring at him.

“They’re not worth that much,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’d give you a buck for them, regardless.”

“Have you become wealthy in my absence?”

She snorted. “Not even in your dreams—or mine, sadly.”

He looked back at the window. Ovkan was only a tiny dot in the distance now.

“Your sister?”

“She’s down there. Even smaller than a dot. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Not really. It’s called physics. Or science.”

“I see you still enjoy using dirty words.”

She punched him on the shoulder.

“You realize we’re fighting so they’re not dirty words anymore?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” He pondered. “Yes, I suppose that’s part of it. Though I think it’s even more vital to get out of this bind we’re in. Start creating, building, and expanding again.”

“Where shall we start?”

“Pluvios.”

“Yes, wise-ass, I know. But after that? After you’ve rebuilt your army? Where should we go?”

He moved away from the window, back toward the floating map. He stared at it for a moment, then pointed at a small blue dot.

“This is where this whole mess started. If we can set it free...”

Helga walked up to the display and stood next to him, staring at the glimmering dot.

“Rimzana,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Rimzana.”