Carlos stepped in quickly. “Linneya… Sister Starling is a little… different.” He searched for a word that wasn’t bio-human or robot, and found nothing that didn’t feel like a knife.
Starling forced a thin smile and made it simple. “I’m an artificial human. That still makes me a kind of robot.” She looked Linneya in the eye. “Do you still want to live with me?”
Linneya didn’t answer. She retreated to Carlos and grabbed his hand with both of hers.
“Linneya,” Carlos said softly. “Don’t do that.”
“Mom was killed by robots,” Linneya whispered. “And you always said… never trust robots.”
“Sister Starling isn’t the same,” Carlos said, his voice sharpening despite himself.
Linneya nodded, but she still hid behind him.
Carlos turned back, shame written across his face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Starling. Linneya’s been afraid of robots since she was little.”
“It’s fine,” Starling said quietly. “I’m used to it.”
***
Heavy, chaotic footsteps thundered in the corridor outside. Captain Harangan led several Hell Fox Marines into the bridge hall.
He snapped a crisp salute. “Captain Myron—Hell Fox Marines, 181st squad. We were ordered to protect the bridge. I’m Captain Harangan.”
Myron didn’t return the gesture. He looked exhausted past anger. “You’re late. Five minutes ago we lost the steering engines. Now the ship is flying straight into Plando territory—like a lamb walking into a lion.” He exhaled hard. “I only care about one thing: when do the rescue ships arrive?”
“We don’t know,” Harangan admitted. “Command did tell us this: if the bridge can’t be held—or if things get worse—bridge personnel can evacuate on our assault craft.”
Myron’s expression went stony. “In the ancient days, when a ship went down, a captain often chose to sink with her.”
He straightened, voice grave. “Most of those traditions are gone now. But a captain’s basic honor remains. At the very least, I’ll be the last one to leave.”
“Spare me your honor, Captain,” Harangan snapped. “Times have changed. Lions and tigers can tear each other apart all day, but to a sheep it’s the same either way. Two hundred thousand humans—our Lord Julian sees them as a number.”
Julian’s projected voice answered over the bridge speakers before Myron could. “Captain Harangan, I’m online. Your metaphor is inaccurate, and I disagree. I’m doing everything in my power to save the Sunflower.”
Harangan spat. “Yeah. Like you ever cared about our lives.”
“If you mean the incident long ago,” Julian said evenly, “I can only express regret—and apologize again. At the time, I… was not complete.”
“So many lives, and one apology—”
“Captain Harangan!” Myron cut him off sharply. “Now is not the time. How many people do you’ve protecting this ship?”
“Sixty-six.”
Myron stared. “That’s it?”
“If you count Julian’s tin puppets, it’s more,” Harangan said, bitter. “But I mean the ones you can actually trust—”
An alarm tone overrode him. Julian’s voice snapped hard for the first time. “Alert. Plando air units have surged. All personnel: prepare for contact.”
A moment later, Harangan’s headset chimed with Kofira’s voice. “Captain—massive enemy fighter formations are closing. I don’t think the bridge can hold. You should leave now.”
Harangan leaned toward Myron, urgency stripped raw. “Captain. Gather everyone and move. If you don’t go now, you won’t have time.”
“Leave the bridge to the enemy?” Myron adjusted his cap and stepped toward the central island console. “No. I already made myself clear.”
“Captain—” Harangan started, reaching for him.
“If you want to leave, then leave,” Myron barked. “Don’t block my way. Captain, I’m busy.”
Harangan froze for a half second—then stepped aside and started issuing orders.
“Fast, Isidor—you two go down, find cover. Tyson Stone, you’re with me on the island protecting the captain.”
He keyed his comm. “Sandy, Archibald—hold the high position. Protect the docking hatch.”
Sandy’s voice came back strained. “That’s going to be hard, sir. You should come up here and see. Did we kick a hornet hive made of blood?”
“Hold it,” Harangan growled. “You hear me? Hold it.”
His gaze fixed on the enormous curved bridge window. He could see it too now: a dense smear of black dots, pouring straight toward them.
“Looks like we die for the captain’s honor today,” he said quietly.
Julian’s voice cut in, coldly precise. “Enemy units include Nightmare, Razorwhale, and Demonblade fighters. Initial estimate: at least 3,000 craft. Additional contacts: four carriers, seven frigates, one interstellar cruiser. I’m also detecting numerous small assault craft—boarding operations remain likely. Contact in one minute.”
Harangan swallowed. “And us? What do we’ve?”
“Good news,” Julian said. “Our rescue fleet eliminated the intercepting enemy group and is continuing inbound. Estimated arrival: fifteen minutes. With existing forces, we’ve roughly half of the enemy’s strength.”
Harangan pulled an exaggerated face. “Half? Great. That’s fantastic news.”
A bridge crewman shouted from a lower station. “Missile collision warning! The Sunflower is being painted by more than a hundred incoming missiles!”
“Leave it to me,” Julian said.
The bridge lights dimmed. Five Tower Clan frigates, a carrier, and a swarm of Windgod fighters swept over the bridge to meet the incoming wave. At the same time, the rear doors opened and a squad of Avengers filed in, fanning out to defensive positions.
From the bridge window they could already see blossoms of light bursting ahead—intercepted missiles detonating in midair. Then the fighters entangled again, and thick warship lasers began lacing through the clouds. Both sides’ carriers started releasing their swarms of strike craft.
As the battlefront rushed closer, the Sunflower’s remaining Metal Storm defense array roared back to life. The system had been built to pulverize asteroids in deep space, and it burned through ammunition at a frightening rate. Now it was fully unleashed.
Julian streamed real-time telemetry and combat feeds onto the bridge displays. Harangan and his soldiers watched steel tear into steel, their faces tightening with each second.
Hard turns at supersonic speed. Suicide rams without hesitation. Units plunging into enemy clusters and detonating everything they carried to maximize damage—without the slightest pause.
Harangan realized, with a hollow clarity, that the age of war fought with flesh had ended. In a battle like this, humans weren’t even supporting characters.
Explosions hammered closer. The ship began to tremble. Kofira’s voice over comms turned into broken static. “Captain… external fire’s too heavy. I’m detaching. I’ll check back in—”
Seconds later, Janiel’s voice sliced through. “Reactor Engine Four destroyed. First Officer Colin is down.”
Seconds later again: “Zone D docking bay has fallen. Second Officer Quentin Pierce is down. Our robot police are engaging the infiltrating Exilers.”
The bridge itself began to shake, impacts thudding against the overhead plating.
Sandy’s voice burst through the comm. “We can’t hold! Too many! Request permission to fall back inside!”
“Permission granted,” Harangan snapped. “Pull back into the docking bay—”
Sandy’s voice cut to a shout. “Archibald—behind you—!” Gunfire chattered. A scream. Static. The channel went dead.
“Sandy? Sandy!” Harangan slammed the comm. “Archibald? Damn it!”
He had barely finished when Janiel screamed, “Incoming!”
But it was already too late.
A massive crash—bang, metal tearing—hit with a quake that slammed everyone to the floor. Only Harangan managed to stay upright, gripping the bridge island railing with both hands.
His eyes went wide as he stared down into the command hall.
An enemy assault craft had rammed straight into the bridge. Its needle nose was embedded in the steel wall behind the bridge…