MILA

“Come on,” Doctor Williams said, bandaging my nose, “There we go.”

“Is this really necessary?” I ask her. “I’ve already taken regen.”

“That works better with flesh. When it comes to bone, it takes longer. With you, maybe a few days at the least. Until then, don’t do anything rash.”

She finishes bandaging, stepping out of the way to sort out something on her computer. I eye Nolan lying near-lifless in the corner, hooked up to a heart monitor. He hasn’t been conscious for a while, not since I woke up. The Doctor isn’t able to do anything, quick scans of his brain immediately made her check out.

“Abdi.” Bryce is at the door now. He comes over. “How are you feeling?”

I’m a bit dreary as I tell him, “Comme çi, comme ça.”

“Word of advice, don’t put a chloroformed napkin over a nose bleed.” He looks over at Nolan. “How’s he doing, Carrie?”

“Not a clue. He’s physically fine, but whatever’s going on in that weird noggin of his is way out of my expertise.” She lights a cigarette.

“Usual business then. I need to talk to Mila, if that’s all right with you.”

She stands there for a bit with her phone out, before realising what he means. I’m now left alone with Bryce as the Doctor leaves the room.

“Everything okay?” I ask him.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome, Abdi,” he says. “I didn’t mind so much when your ship was damaged, but at this point, I feel like you’re trying to stay here.”

“Look, when Nolan’s out of his weird coma thing, we’ll be off.”

“How long’s that gonna take, Abdi? He could be like that for a month, a year, a decade maybe,” He stated. “You know we have bounty hunters looking for him already? People saw him in your car back on Sa’Ikarna, tied the car to the Centaurus.”

“People recognised him?”

“Of course people recognised him, a shave isn’t exactly a disguise.” He sighed. “DAVE has already generated pictures online. The heat is off us for now, but you have to leave.”

“And what am I gonna do with Nolan?” I ask. “How am I supposed to deal with a coma patient?!”

“We have a cryopod ready for him. Once he’s conscious, the pod’ll detect it and thaw him out. You won’t have to worry about catheters or anything.” Bryce begins to leave the room. “It was a pleasure to have you onboard, by the way. The nearest populated planet’s Sa’Malo. Parts of it are under the Allied Systems but you could get a job quickly there, maybe something for your friend.”

After he leaves, the Doctor comes back in shortly after. “Didn’t see why that needed to be a private conversation,” I say to her.

“The Captain likes being dramatic,” she replies, smushing her cigarette on the ashtray. “I know someone who can help you out with your little coma problem, by the way. A doctor on San’Malo, Mexican guy, goes by Romero.”

“You think he can help me out? Well, Nolan out?”

“The man specialises in the brain, wrote plenty of papers before the wormhole collapsed, I think he was rumoured to be nominated for a Nobel Prize. I’ll call him later for you, a token of my thanks.”

“Wow. Thanks, Doctor.”

“Least I could do. He’ll be asking for cash.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“Depends on his mood.” She chuckles. “Nothing I can help with, I’m afraid. I’ll send the details to you. But make sure you’re not exactly broke.”

Maybe I should do a job. The last thing I want right now is to be in debt out here.

NOLAN

It got… dull after a while, the party I mean. At first, me and Gary had a bit of fun. Party fun, obviously, I wouldn’t go as far as to shag a cosmic being infecting my brain. We spoke a bit, danced a bit… I’m sounding like we went on a date, aren’t I?

Okay, party stuff. Breath of fresh air, no Loreqi trying to kill me, just the familiar comfort that was the megalopolis of London. Sort of comfort, maybe. I missed the city, surprisingly, until it properly sank in that this was just a memory. Half the things around me had been blurred out or outright distorted. I couldn’t talk with anyone, and the alcohol I finally came around to trying barely had any effect.

I ended up sitting down with a bottle of Fanta in my hand, zoning out at the colourful, crystalline buildings across the Thames. A couple fireworks went off early, some too close to the buildings.

Gary sat down beside me, I assumed in a good mood. “I missed this. The thrill, the excitement, the fun.”

“At least someone’s having a nice time,” I said to him.

“You appear sombre, Nolan.” He offered me a packet of Walkers. I turned it down.

“It’s just…. I dunno. I’m homesick, I guess.”

“We are in a memory of your home.”

“That’s the thing. It’s a memory. It isn’t the real thing.” To be fair, London wasn’t exactly the nicest city. I didn’t miss the busyness, the shit-scented Thames, the American tourists. Maybe a memory was the best version of London I was going to get.

“I do not understand.”

“How long do we have left here?” I eyed young me over at the pub, enjoying pints with his… my friends. Mila was there, Greg too, Ashley, even Marek. Maybe they were in the same situation as me now, I definitely knew Mila was. I never went inside, while their faces were intact, all that came out of their mouths were just murmurs.

Gary looked up. “We can move on.”

“Please.”

Everything changed again. I sort of remembered this moment. We were outside Parliament, somewhere on the road. Big Ben seemed like an infant compared to the skyscrapers around it. Gary remarked it as an eyesore against ‘the monument of our civilisation’. Beer cans were littered everywhere, and police officers in their high-vis vests had been making sure things were kept… less chaotic on the roads.

At least for a little bit.

A naked man (I think it was a man, he should’ve died from hypothermia by now) had run past, police were chasing after him, this one Android officer struggled to keep up the pace, tripping over. Some were laughing with their phones out, others were too pissed to even notice. Everything blurred after a bit, except for me and Gary. The me in this memory had already gotten drunk.

The next few memories did not add anything much. Standard intoxicated shenanigans, some of us vomiting. One moment, we were on a starship, no connection as to how we got there. Mila was in the pilot’s seat, someone else was on board, I couldn’t make out their face. The murmurs coming from them was deep in tone, their figure a bit overweight. I wanted to say it was one of my friends, but for all I knew, this could’ve just been some bloke we picked up in London.

There was a warp into subspace, but after that, the memory ended. Right after that, we popped to me waking up in the desert.

“Wait, hang on, stop this,” I said. Gary did so.

“There was… a major gap in your memory."

“Yeah, my bender. Can you access any of it?” No idea why I wanted to go through the memories of a raging psychopath, guess maybe it was due to the fact the second I grew back a bit of facial hair the entire galaxy would be knocking on my door with a gun in hand. So it would have been nice to have an idea who’d be outside.

There was nothing around me now. Just a door, shifting between models and materials.

Gary showed up beside me. “I cannot open it.”

“You’ve literally been browsing my brain for the past…. however long I’ve been out.”

“I am merely a traveller here. The revelations of my time in subspace does not have myself versed in the land I trek upon. This mental reality is not bound by any sort of cohesive logic.”

“So, what am I supposed to do here?” I asked.

“I am not versed in the land,” he repeated. “Touch it, perhaps?”

I glared at the door, still changing forms. “It could kill me.”

“Nolan, this entire reality is your consciousness trying to build something to operate the brain functions. Perhaps this is up to you.”

“Christ, when did you become a neuroscien— Wait, are you real? Hang on, is my brain just fucking with me?”

“I am the entity merging with your mind, I am certainly real. What you are seeing and talking to is your consciousness trying to comprehend myself.”

I just about understood what he was on about. Should I have touched it? Maybe it was a case of… I don’t know, acceptance? Will? I guessed Gary was about as intrigued as always, and there wasn’t anything else other than going through the past couple weeks.

Stepping forward, I put my hand on the door handle. Which then disappeared and phased into a control panel. And then a door knob. And then something broken, and right back into a handle. Before it switched, I quickly pulled it down, and finally opened the door.

MILA

I had my goodbyes with the crew. Giving hugs and handshakes to them in the hangar. Nolan is already in the crypod now, kept in the hidden compartment underneath the lower deck. Eventually, the McSpaceyFace begins to detach from the Centaurus.

“You’re cleared for departure, Abdi,” DAVE says to me over the comms.

“Any words of wisdom before I hit the road?” I ask.

“Don’t discriminate who you kill. If they’re a problem, sometimes it’s best to put them down. Other than that, don’t die.”

Sa’Malo is a couple light-years away in the next system over. I ignite the subspace drive once I’m a certain distance away from the Centaurus, and the black of space fades into a multitude of colours.

A couple hours pass, and I take the ship out of subspace. Half an hour of flying around later, I rotate the thrusters, slowing the momentum of the ship. The lush, green and blue orb of Sa’Malo comes ever closer.

I browse the radio frequencies, making sure things are all right on the planet. A couple distress calls, music stations, news broadcasts, a bunch of things are coming through, basically. I cannot understand anything either way, except for this one English-speaking broadcast, but it was all in some sort of military code. I pay no mind to it.

Eventually, I get a beep from the controls. Someone’s calling me. I answer, but an American voice comes through first. “This is the ASS Infiltrator, you have entered the jurisdiction of the Allied Sovereign Systems. Please identify yourself and state your business.”

Balls, Allied Systems. I usually don’t go anywhere near them, and the best solution would be to run, but that would have put me on some sort of watchlist. I decide to comply for now. “This is Captain Mila Abdi of the… McSpaceyFace. Sorry, I wasn’t aware how heavy the security protocols were here.”

“State your business.”

“Just visiting, really.” This is the last thing I want right now. Shit! If they board, I’m done for.

“Please elab— Alex, I’m busy.”

There’s a faint voice of a woman coming closer. “My shift is over, I’m thinking we sh—”

“Look, baby, I’d love to do that, but I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

“I managed to smuggle your favourite toy on board. Rub a bit of lube—”

“Jesus Christ, I’m dealing with someone!”

“Babe, we haven’t done anything in weeks! It’s always you’re busy with this, have to deal with that.”

“I— listen,” he calms down, “Alex, I love you. But… hang on, what lube is it?”

“Errr, ‘Men-saw-loo?’ I can’t remember, something Loreqi. I bought it on Sa’Malo.”

“You don’t buy lube from Loreqi! You don’t buy anything from Loreqi! You seen what happened to Rajesh the other day? Guy bought some weird tissue paper, rubbed it on his—”

“Erm, I’m still here,” I say.

“Oh fuck. Errrrrrrr, you’re cleared to go through. Where are you landing?”

“Ta’Edan.”

“Sure, Ta’Edan. Come through. Just don’t tell… please don’t tell my wife.”

“I don’t even kn— sure, whatever, okay. Thanks. May we never speak again.” The channel is quickly cut, and I try to forget everything I heard.

Unfortunately, the greenery of the planet isn’t where Ta’Edan is located. By my luck, it’s based surrounding one of the many mountains. Old mining machinery dot over the rocks. Yet below, the lights act as a beacon in the eternal storm. A very misleading one, of course, I can practically smell the local food from all the way up here.

It doesn’t seem to be occupied by Allied forces. No sign of their black and white banners anywhere, no soldiers and armoured vehicles roaming the streets. I land in their spaceport, put a coat on and grab my essentials. I sign in with the local law enforcement. Unfortunately, English isn’t so much used here, and the translator I have doesn’t apply to the local dialect.

Everybody here is giving me a weird look. Not the usual weird looks in the standard lawless environments I’m used to, more a look of ‘fuck off back to Earth’. It’s only Loreqi around here, no Arvans, Farahali, Ehnids or even Humans in sight. I try asking for directions, but people generally just avoid me.

I spend about twenty minutes just looking for the place. Aaaand the clinic is closed! There’s a timetable in English on the door. Doesn’t open on Sundays. Fantastic. ‘Oh hey, my arm’s been torn apart’, ‘Piss off, it’s my day off’.

Hang on, today’s Thursday.

One of the locals says something to me in Spanish. I reply with, “No habla Español.”

“Deutsch?” She asks.

“Nein.”

“Putonghua?”

“I speak English.”

“Oh.” She smiles over her error. “The Doctor is not in. He go on trip.”

“What? Where?”

“Ta’Lem.”

And nobody thought to tell me?! I thought the Doctor called him, was this a last minute thing?! “How long will he be?”

I think she shrugs.

“How far’s Ta’Lem?”

“Err…” She tries to find the words. “Up… big— main road. Long way. No ship allowed.”

I sigh. “Okay, which way again?”

NOLAN

It didn’t let me in. The second I push down that handle… or maybe turned a knob… what did I do? It kept switching all the t— doesn’t matter. What it did do, however, was hurl me somewhere. It wasn’t a memory of mine, I could tell you that. And Gary was nowhere to be seen.

I’d spent the last hour (that’s how it felt, at least) going through what’s best comparable to a drug trip. There was nothing familiar at all to me, except a bottle of hair gel. One moment: I was swimming backwards in a sea of stars. The next: a million voices would be screaming at me, whether in pleasure, pain, or sheer insanity.

The endless colours of what I guessed subspace engulfed my vision here and there, what might have made myself go mad before suddenly just became… I don’t know how to describe it. ‘Normal’, I guess. It was like staring into infinity, yet somehow the madness I thought would’ve come with it just wasn’t there. Every inch of logic, illogic, beginning, middle, end, colliding and folding a billion times over. There was no feeling of awe from me, just… I want to say acceptance.

It faded away, and I found myself dropped in a room. A large, bronze room. I pulled myself up by the windowsill. Outside was… well, I was still not in any of my memories. It seemed almost medieval outside, with a coat of metal and holograms painted all over. Statues of large feline creatures were entrenched into the courtyard, with army marches taking place below.

On the walls, bits of artwork and souvenirs had been held up high, with a large bed placed in the centre. The tall double door suddenly opened, two felines came through. They were… Yntal. Why do I have a Yntal’s memor— oh wait, I’m in Gary’s bit of the brain, aren’t I?

They talk for a short while. Because of their accent, I barely make out what they’re saying. The male, I’m guessing, was Gary. The female, I just heard Blooming Flower, definitely a pet name.

“All of this, my own domain,” Maybe-Gary said to her smiling, staring out the window. “A thousand suns in the palm of my hands. And I want to share it with you, Ka’lamgrimoneshisentef.”

“Your charms, my king, sway me well,” she said, clearly simply wanting to get into his trousers for the money.

They embraced each other. And I’m not gonna explain what happened next. What I will say, though, was that I was stuck in there for a whole hour. I tried the doors, they didn’t work. Couldn’t even break the window either. I just sat there, listening to their moans… not the best way to describe it. They were screeching loudly. Very loudly. Like a dying vacuum cleaner. Saying I was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I had a go at trying to control my surroundings. If Gary could do that in mine, maybe it would be the other way around in this case. Soon enough, the whole memory paused. The screeches of that cat shag finally silenced. Okay, I could pause events. Could I leave them was the question now.

Never found out at that stage. The doors opened, and naturally I decided to quickly up and leave. It was just white ahead of me, but anything to escape the cat shag behind me.

I don’t know how to describe what I went through. It’s like… picturing something in your head. Something where the image is brief, distorted, but it gets the point across. Maybe a reminder of something you needed to do next week. Now have that image projected onto a whole room.

Okay, terrible description, but I can’t think of anything else. Right, so I was there, browsing all the bits of thoughts and memories littered ahead of me. Blending and colliding. The voices of the past murmur in the background as I browse between them.

Some memories were brutal, Gary really wasn’t lying about what he did to those who criticised him. Others were… well, normal. He had a kid, a bunch of kids, went through loss, ups and downs. A lot of it downs… for millions of people.

Eventually, something grabbed me, pulling me into one of the memories. It was roughly a bar. Looked like one. Booths, drinks, prostitute cats. Gary was in one of the booths laughing with his friends.

“Sit,” a deep, smooth voice said to me. I looked to the side, noticing a human, Asian, scruffy, massive be— it was me. It was fucking me.

“What the steaming buttery fuck?” I appropriately responded.

“Sit down, Nolan,” he commanded.

“Who are you?!”

“Should already know the answer, you wally.”

“Ho— what is this?”

“Sit down, and have a drink,” He demanded again, gritting his teeth. I sat down. A drink appeared in front of me.

I took a sip, before spitting it out. Had a go trying to materialise a glass of Pepsi, before exhausting myself.

“Can only access things from the memories of the cat. Nothing from our’s,” he said to me.

“I’m guessing you’re… drunk me?” I asked.

“Bingo.”

There was a pause between the both of us. The monster was right in front of me. Slaughtering god-knows how many people, with lives, families, and leaving me to take care of the mess. And he was sitting in front of me. I could’ve killed him. Gotten him out the way. The implications it would’ve had on my brain given everything is simply a strange mental process didn’t even occur to me.

Eventually, I threw my glass at his face. “You absolute shit!”

He quickly fell to the ground, moaning. “What was that for?!”

I got up and stood over him, before crouching down and punching him in the face. “Do you have any idea how shit of a month I’ve had because of you?! Half the galaxy is after me, people have died over me! All of it down to you having a hundred too many!”

He laughed. “You were the one who went down to London in the first place!”

I punched him again.

“Listen, I get your anger,” he said, his nose already broken at this point. “Literally. I’d used up most of it in the last couple years. But right now, you have a much much bigger problem.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But I might as well get you out the way.” Yet another punch I went.

“You can’t— you can’t kill me, you wally!”

“Worth a go.” I grabbed a broken shard off the ground, and in one quick strike, it went through his eye.

And it did piss-all. He disappeared, before appearing to the side, picking off bits of glass out my face. “Guess a little bit of me stuck with you after all.”

“How?!”

“Just sit down. And let’s chat. That’s all I want.”

I saw no other option, other than killing him over and over again. We sat back up on the table, and pints reappeared.

“Okay, talk.”

Drunk me downed half his drink, before saying, “I just want to make this clear again. You can’t kill me, I’m part of you.”

“Bullshit,” I lowly sang.

“Hardly bullshit, Nolan. See, everybody has a fucked up side to them. Some let them out, the rest of us try to contain it.” He leaned back. “You and most other people are the second one. The fucked up side of you, to insult someone in the middle of the road, to slaughter your entire workplace, to ram your car into your ex’s home. All rolled into one. You can’t get rid of it. Just push it to the side and hope for the best.”

“Is there any other bit of me I should know about?”

“Oh, plenty. Unfortunately, we’re in Genghis Cat’s bit of the brain now, so you are stuck with your’s truly."

“Why don’t you sound drunk?” Seriously, he was the intoxicated version of me. I expected some mindless murmurs, here was just an old Disney villain.

“Mm, yeah. That is a very good question. There’s an odd science to getting drunk. Don’t know if you can even call it a science. With you, I guess it just opened the door for me. Don’t ask me for specifics.” He finished off his drinks. “Anyways, let’s get on to what I wanted to talk about. Our mutual problem.”

“Gary,” I said.

“Who? Is that what you’re calling the giant feline over there?”

“Have you heard his name? I’d build a TV from scratch in that time.”

“There’re so many better names you could’ve come up with. Tunaholic, Whiskers, Mittens, Puss in Boots.”

“That’s racist.”

“Still part of you, bab.”

Did he just call me bab? This is meant to be the unhinged side of me, why was saying that thrown in with murder?

“Anyways,” he went on, “Gary is eating away at our brain as we speak. Once he’s stuffed, bang, we’re gone.”

For some reason, I was actually considering calling bullshit. Had more immediate hatred for the guy who messed my life up than the literal parasite who invaded my brain. It took a few seconds before coming to my senses.

“I’m assuming you need me to stop it?” I asked.

“Glad to know your intelligence is still there.”

“Why can’t you do it? You’ve been here longer.”

He stared about. “I’d burn this place to the ground, if I could.” He looked back at me. “But unfortunately you’re the dominant being here. Don’t ask me how it works, but since you’re in charge, only you can pull the trigger.”

“Okay,” I said, “What’s the plan?”

He placed a handgun on the table. “There’s two main roots keeping Gary’s mind to us. I’ve found them deep in his memories. Shoot them, we won’t have to worry about him ever again.”

I picked up the gun. An M1911, if video games had taught me anything. This shouldn’t backfire on me again.

Maybe give it a quick test? I pulled the trigger, shooting drunk me in the face. He disappeared, and reappeared to the side. “Not happening, bab.”

MILA

Two hours. Two hours it would take me to get to Ta’Lem. I tried calling from a colleague of his, no answer. I’m on the planet anyway, and going to Vernadsky for help would take much longer. So, I paid for a van to take me there.

It’s currently a dull ride. No chatter with the driver, no music, the most I can do is play Tetris on my mobile. Eventually, the van stops. I look out through the window, a blockade is ahead. Armed soldiers in camouflaged armour stand by. A few of them march over to the van.

“Imshe va koi,” one of them orders to the driver. “Step out the vehicle.”

We both step out. One of them steps a bit too close to me, getting a good look at my face. I consider pulling out my gun, but twelve on one is basically suicide.

They’re interviewing the driver. I can’t tell what they’re saying. The one staring at me steps away. “Dealings with Vernadsky,” he says, “Owns a ship called the McSpaceyFace, freelance shipping. No known hostilities to ASS forces. Doesn’t seem fishy to me.”

Another one of them, a woman of higher rank, struts over to me. “What’s someone like you doing in his van?”

“Visiting a friend,” I say, trying to keep calm.

“This region ain’t have many Humans around.”

“So?”

The soldier interrogating the driver then says, “He’s clean too.”

“You said she had dealing with Vernadsky, Raymond?” The woman asks one of her men.

“Just shipping,” he replies, “Ma’am, with all due respect—”

“There’s no shame in being too careful. Never know what those Ruskies could be up to. Send me the data.” One of her eyes shine blue. A few seconds pass, and I think she smiles. “Detain her.”

And just like that, I was pinned to the side of the van. I try grabbing my gun, but their grip on my arms are too tight. Something’s stuck into my neck, my eyes blur. I fall to the floor, and my whole body goes numb. It doesn’t take long for everything to just go black.

NOLAN

“You’re in my brain!” I shouted at drunk me. Okay, I feel like I’ve exhausted calling him that. Let’s just go with Feral. “How can you not remember anything?”

“Character and memories seem separate for some reason,” he said. “As of now, I only know what you know.”

“Great! I’m still left in the dark!”

“Why do you even care anyway? Knowing you, you’d probably blow your head off realising what you did.”

“You just said you don’t even know what I was up to!” I exclaimed.

“Did you look around you when you were awake?”

“Just shut up about it, please. Come on.” We stopped by one of Gary’s memories. “In here is it?”

“Should be.”

I gave him a glare. “What do you mean ‘should be?’”

“The other one moved around quite a bit.”

“You’re joking.” I stared down the corridor(ish) of memories. Quite obvious Gary had a photographic memory, meaning a stupid ton of legwork for us.

“Get a move on then, you twat. We might’ve missed it already.”

We popped inside, entering what I think was a training ground. Two figures did their respective preparations before taking a defensive stance towards each other. One was clearly Gary, much younger, I guess teenage years (if you could call it that).

“Where is it?” I asked.

“Probably deeper in somewhere. Half these memories often have more buried inside them.”

The two clashed their blades. Honestly, I don’t even know how to describe it. It was like watching those generic sword fights on a film. What was the point of swords anyway? These people were more than advanced enough for guns, I doubt swinging a glorified kitchen knife around would do anything to someone with a shotgun.

I held up the gun, and shot one of them in the head. The bullet phased through, and the fight continued. “Where’d you get this thing?” I asked the Feral.

“Found it.”

“Nothing else?”

He just shrugged, sipping a pint. I’m going to be honest, I never expected to meet this version of me, but even if I did, my image of him was nothing like this. The embodiment of darkness was what I was hoping for, instead I just got some unlikeable douchebag. Maybe the rest of him got sucked off somewhere else in the brain, maybe he was a fragment. Of course, take away the power of someone like Hitler and all you’d be met with is some guy. So in all likelihood, maybe my expectations were just a bit too high.

“You are too aggressive, young one,” the one Gary had been fighting remarked to him. “Patience is vital on the path to glory.”

“Ah hah, mentor, efficiency is key.” They clashed again. “One’s opponent must be taken down quickly.”

“Why the hell are they talking like that?” I asked.

“It’s translated, ain’t it?”

“Do they have to sound like something out of a shitty kid’s show?”

“You prefer they sound Brummie?” He laughed. “Better than the scum we have now.”

“They’re not scum, you dick.”

“The universe traded a race of warriors to a bunch of corporate sellouts who can barely feed their own people. We try helping them, and they leech off our aid. Can’t even help themselves out.”

The mentor knocked Gary to the ground. “You still remain blinded by your ambition. Focus on the moment. Only then will you truly succeed.” He offered him a hand, only for it to get rejected.

Gary pulled himself up, walking off without a response. The scene switched, and he was testing himself against physical test dummies. He was pissed off, I could tell.

Someone then walked into the room from behind. A female, Gary’s age. “My Prince,” she said.

His stiff stance relaxed, switching to something more friendly as he turned around. “Al’imgreanoplinsa. I thought we would not meet until later this cycle.”

“My mother had a change in plans. I wished to surprise you.”

They grabbed each others’ hands. “I missed you.”

“Christ,” the Feral said, “Had a much better love life than us at this age.”

“That was a two week mistake. I’d hardly call that a love life.”

“Exactly my point.”

“You seem tense, my Prince,” Al’im— oh screw it, let’s just called her Alan.

“Struggles with the new blademaster. Not even a cycle he has stayed here, yet his expectations hold higher than the mountains of Namrokar.”

Alan’s hand touched his cheek. “You are but new to this.”

“Every nobleman requires a skill in martial arts. Without one, I am nothing. No more useful than a cripple.”

“We are young. The weight of a thousand stars should not be held upon yourself. Relax your nerves.”

Gary turned from her, leaning on one of the practice dummies. “My father is ill, my love. The eyes of our empire assert themselves to me. If I cannot prove worthy of the throne…”

“Your worth is only what you make it yourself. Not the farmers, not the scholars or generals, not even the nobles. Only you. Prudence comes from within, not beyond.”

“Your advice falls upon a deaf audience. Another house could take over if I do not retain dominance.”

“Perhaps we should venture for a meal,” Alan said, realising she couldn’t go any further. “Just you and me.”

“I would like that,” Gary said.

Once more the scene shifted. I asked the Feral, “Where is this thing?”

“Just keep waiting,” he told me. Just keep waiting? Someone like him I’d expected to be one of the most impatient people in this sentient tumour.

There was a small crowd in lavish robes surrounding a bed. Gary was there, his face completely saddened. Someone, I’m assuming his dad, laid in bed, completely lifeless. There were a few people crying, others murmuring.

“I cannot do anything else for him,” I think it was the Doctor that said it to them. “Prince Ga’angrelhoelin, by right of inheritance, you now assume the throne.”

“I— perhaps—” Gary was stuttering all over the place. “I am still young.”

“We understand so,” one of the others said, “But our empire needs a ruler. You have been prepared for this mantle since birth. Now, you must take it.” Someone walked into the room, holding some sort of wet clay tablet in hand. “Your mark is required for ascension.”

“This— all of this is happening too quickly…” He was breaking. His father had just died in front of his eyes and everyone’s attitude is basically ‘Sad, okay welcome to the horrors of adulthood’. No time to grieve, just get on with the job.

Unsurprisingly, it became too much for him. He stood up and stormed out of the bedroom. The Feral and I followed him as everything behind blurred out, through the massive art-covered corridors and then onto the balcony. His breath was rapid, he was barely holding it all back.

Gary looked up ahead of him, over the lights of the city. Just earlier, he was boasting on about owning all of it to his girlfriend. Here, he was just scared.

Something began shining on the back of him. “That’s it! Blow the fucker off!” The Feral shouted at me, unaware that last sentence sounded much better in his head.

I fired the gun, and all our surroundings began to be sucked into the light. It was slow at first, until we felt ourselves becoming physically attracted to it. At that point, I realised we had to run.

Back through the blurry corridors the two of us ran as everything was torn away. “Where’s the fucking door!” I shouted.

“No clue, just keep running!”

MILA

Arrested by the Allied Sovereign Systems. Perfect. Rather it be pirates or something, at least they don’t put a large bounty on your head if you escape. What did that lady find anyway? I shipped things here and there, never intervened with the larger politics. Maybe she just felt like going on a power trip. There was something about her attitude, maybe I was an excuse in making her look competent.

Anyways, I’m in a holding cell now. A cramped one, one of many in this facility. I can’t see properly outside into the corridor. There’s just one slit of window for me to look through. It does sound like quite a few are held up here. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, woke up probably half an hour ago with most of my stuff gone other than the clothes on my back.

Armoured guards roam down the halls, I see one drag out a beaten, Humanoid inmate with a colleague of theirs. The inmate barely seems alive, bruises, cuts, whatever injury you can think of collected all over his body.

“We haven’t given up on you just yet,” they told him, before dragging him off somewhere else. That’s me next isn’t it? Shit.

There’s nothing in the room that I can use to get out. I could fake an injury, but chances are the guards wouldn’t care, I’d just be doing their job for them.

I continue looking outside, see if there’s anything useful to me. They bring a new guy in, a Human. Goatee, tanned skin, cursing at the guard in Spanish. It’s Romero. He’s thrown into the cell, I hear a few bangs on his door.

Suddenly, a helmet peeks through the window. Naturally, I step back, expecting there to be some sort of escape behind me. The door opens, the guard marches in and drags me out. I struggle a bit, managing to get out their grasp, before running into a large Android. They clutch me by the neck, nearly crushing my windpipe, smacking me onto the wall.

The first guard comes back around. “Well, I can see why the Russians favour you. We have questions.”

They handcuff me, and begin to shove me across the facility. It’s relatively new. The sound of construction tools and machines whir from outside. But that isn’t stopping them from using it. Probably breaking a bunch of safety violations, I am pretty sure something collapsed behind me. On the bright side, if I’m lucky, there’s a chance the whole place will come down flattening everyone inside. I might end up as one of them, but the concept makes escape seem much easier to me.

I’m thrown onto a chair in an interrogation room, and the handcuffs are surprisingly taken away. On the table there’s a jug— no, a teapot. Two cups on the side. Well, at least I’ll be dealing with good cop first. But the question is, how long until I get bad cop?

A woman strolls in. An officer, I’m assuming. Dressed modestly, with a stern demeanour all around her. She sits down in front of me.

“Tea?” She offers, her voice a toxically friendly American accent.

“I don’t really drink tea,” I say.

She ignores my rejection, pouring it for me anyway. It’s clear, not the usual English brown. Probably herbal. She drinks it first, but I hesitate. The tea definitely isn’t drugged, but maybe there was something in my cup, something that would probably fuck me up in the long term and useful to this bitch in the short term.

“Not drinking?” She asks.

“I just said I don’t drink tea.”

“Fine. Pepsi? Dr Pepper? Water? What’s your poison?”

“I’m not thirsty, thanks,” I told her. She is either anti-social or trying to drug me.

She places her tea down. “On behalf of the border guards, I apologise. I believe we may have got off on the wrong foot.” You think, you daft bitch? “I’m Agent Nergui, Prime Intelligence Organisation, but I don’t mind being called Vera. Don’t need to introduce yourself, know all about you.”

“You people have been watching me this whole time?”

“Not entirely a priority figure, but yes. You’re no Han Solo, I’ll tell you that.”

“Who?”

“Han Solo. The guy from Star Wars.” She seems like she’ll flip the table towards me.

“Yeah, I’ve never come around to watching that,” I say casually.

Okay, just disappointment from her. I’ve bought myself a few extra minutes. “You’ve been a bit of an anomaly for us. Never came up on our radar until a couple years ago, and all of a sudden you’re dealing with members of the Accord, the Onzyew Guilds, the Siol’Amansra. Not like you’re secretive, nobody like that gets too cozy with Russians. I’m just going to ask you this, just for the record, where do you come from? No citizenry from anywhere as far as I know.”

“Nairobi,” I say.

“Which one?” Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that?

“East Af— it’s the one on Earth.”

“We don’t recognise citizenry from UN space anymore, I’m afraid. We’ll just place you down as stateless. Okay, main topic,” she says taking out a tablet. Vera pulls a holographic display out the screen. Multiple shipping manifests show up. I recognise them, jobs given by Sacha back in Vernadsky. “Remember these?”

“What about them?”

“Eight months ago, you took up a contract with the Accord to ship five-hundred guns to Amalop V. Now, those guns were used by a Sazjovid militia group, the Imr’ess. A small organisation, usually not something we decide to blow resources on. However—” Photos of corpses now fill the whole display. Some mangled, some burned, others strung up as decoration. “—This is Rocktown. Tiny settlement in the Il’resso Jungle, one of ours’. Not long after your little trip, Im’ress soldiers marched into the town, overwhelmed local defences and massacred anyone they could find. Before, they were nothing but some hunter-gatherers. Yet from this single act, with guns you supplied them, we had to bump them up to a terrorist group.”

“I—”

Another set of photos replace the former on the display, one of them an article. 45 DEAD IN PASABHAD BOMBING, it says. “Siol’Amansra hired you for this just a couple months before Rocktown. Gave ‘em five bombs which they smuggled in one of the most security-tight cities across the ASS. I’ve got six more examples, but I think you get the point. Anything you have to say for yourself?”

What could I say? Sorry? I never questioned the jobs I was given. Just flew there, got paid, and went on my way. It was what was working for me after I woke up. I didn’t— I don’t take pride in any of it.

Wait, she said eight months ago. No, I wasn’t sober then. I was off stuck in the shitfaced mindset. It takes the guilt off a bit, but I obviously have more things to focus on at the minute.

I say silent and stare at her, there’s more going on here. She isn’t just parading my drunk self’s consequences around for the fun of it.

“What do you want?” I ask. Vera doesn’t want to put me on trial, if she did, I’d be dead on the ground outside the building.

“Some of us tried to get you, you know. But unfortunately, going after a thread doesn't take down the whole web. The spider just makes a new one. I want to strike a deal with you.”

“Go on?”

“Your dealings with the Accord are what we are most interested in. All we want is dirt.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“Well, we don’t torture the info out of you for one. I’ll use as much influence as I can to make sure you don’t get put in front of a firing squad.”

“How about I get out of here?”

“You’re responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people. Not exactly something we can brush under the rug. Hell, I’ll make your cell cosy; TV, weighted blanket. It’s basically a hotel you can never leave.”

Oh God. It’s like picking which carrot to eat out of a pile of vomit. At least the second one was seasoned, but prison is still prison. And Nolan was undoubtedly fucked either way.

Suddenly, loud bangs echo from outside. Multiple staff members and guards begin to run around in a frenzy. The door opens, a guard runs in.

“The base is under attack,” He tells Vera. “On all sides!”

“By who?!” She asks.

“Not a clue, I’m holed up in here aren’t I? You need to take cover, there is a panic room down the hallway.”

“What about her?” Vera points her thumb at me.

“I’ll get her back to her cell. Move it!”

Vera glares at me, before running out the room. The guard grabs me by the arm, and drags me out. “Trust me,” he whispers through his helmet.

He holds a gun up to my head, though I notice his finger is off the trigger. Who is this? His voice sounded familiar just. A friend from Vernadsky? No, I don’t know any English people there.

Guards run through the exits of the corridors as more explosions sound off outside. A few take place inside, but the routes we take make it seem like he knew where they would take place.

From one of the unfinished walls, people set up defences as the ruins of vehicles and other equipment litter all over the snow. He pushes me out of the facility and I don’t have a coat to wear. So within a second I am freezing my arse off. He constantly glances around, with every step he takes for us carefully calculated.

There’s multiple rock formations ahead. We quickly hide behind there, a bit far from any patrols or defences. An armoured car is just up ahead, the guard beside me opens it up, letting me sit in the front passenger seat.

He sits behind the wheel, closing the door. The helmet comes off, and is placed to the side. He stares at me with a friendly smile. “Miss me?”

That pale face… weathered to the point he seemed older than he actually was. I know it. No, wait, the New Years party! “Greg?!”

“Did you miss me?”

I punch him in the arm, before hurting my knuckles. “Where the fuck have you been?!”

“’Thank you so much, Greg,’” he imitates. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get that whole scene together?”

“Are you serving the fucking ASS?!”

“I can kick you back out into the cold if you want, Mila.” He starts the car, and I quickly pull back my surprised anger.

“Okay… sorry. Just… it’s been so long,” I say.

“It’s fine, I get it. You have a ship don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s in Ta’Edan. The McSpaceyFace.”

“Okay, great. Should only take a few hours.”

“No, wait,” I tell him, his foot just hovering over the accelerator. “We have to go back.”

He stares at me as if I just grew a third eye. “Have to go back?!”

“There’s a man. Goes by Doctor Romero, I’ve been looking for him.”

“Getting you out was hard enough. And all the explosions’ll be done by now. They’ll know something’s up.”

“He’s the only one that can help Nolan, Greg.”

“Nolan’s with you?!” He says. “Wait, what’s wrong with him?”

“Well… he’s got a subspace entity stuck in his head.”

“Did you try—”

“I already kicked his balls back up his body. Voice of a choirboy now but it’s still in there.”

“Where is he?”

“Back in the ship. He’s safe, put him in a cryopod.”

“And this Romero can help us how?” Greg asks.

“A friend recommended him to me and he’s the closest solution here now.”

A few seconds pass in silence. “What does he look like?”

“Hispanic, beard. Literally the only Human inmate in that whole facility,” I tell him.

Greg opens his side of the door, equipping his helmet back on once he gets out. “Stay in the car. There’s a gun in the glovebox should anyone come. If I’m not back within half an hour, drive off.”

“Hang on, no, I’m coming with you.”

“They’ll be less suspicious of me. Meanwhile, that American lady will be swarming all over the place searching for you.” He waves goodbye, running out of sight back to the facility.

I open the glovebox. There’s a taser, and a box of TicTacs.