Chapter 239

Alexander sat in the Sleipnir’s meeting room, boots crossed on the round table, tablet in hand.

The room occupied the heart of the ship. High-backed chairs circled the table, and display screens lined the walls, all dark. It had been designed for a CEO to hold board meetings. These days, Grimnir used it for everything but.

He swiped through the notes he’d compiled, reviewing the last few entries, when the door to his left swished open. Augustus, Annie, and Talia filed in.

Annie dropped into a chair. “Finished interrogating the crew?”

Alexander nodded without looking up.

Augustus settled into his seat with considerably more grace. Talia took the chair beside him, placing one leg over the other.

“Well?” Augustus laced his fingers together. “Don’t keep an old man in suspense. What can they do?”

“Most of them got powers that aren’t particularly useful. There are two, maybe three, that are genuinely valuable.”

“That tracks,” Talia said. “Normal distribution is that most awakenings produce minor abilities.”

Alexander swiped. “Carmen’s power you already know about.” Swipe. “Ryan has something called Stoicism. Makes him physically and emotionally harder to move against his will. Harder to influence mentally, harder to knock down, harder to push around. It has potential if he decides to train it. The physical resistance component means he’s also harder to hurt.”

Augustus raised an eyebrow. “The man was already a wall. Now he’s a literal one.”

Alexander swiped again. “Davis’s is interesting.” He read the name slowly. “Psychokinetic Weapon Mastery.” He looked up. “Though he insists on calling it Gun-o-pathy.”

Annie snorted.

“He can convert weapons into spiritual versions and store them in his soul, which destroys the physical weapon in the process. Then he can conjure them at will.” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “But here’s where it gets interesting. He can also telekinetically control weapons at range and empower anything he considers a weapon.” He glanced up from the tablet. “Including Sleipnir’s guns. If I let him.”

“Oh.” Talia’s eyebrows shot up. “Armory powers are rare, especially when mixed with telekinesis.”

Annie nodded. “For sure! There’s one in Spain who goes by the name Terracotta. He builds soldiers out of clay by hand, then stores them to use them in battle.” She grinned. “Anyway, that means I can start training Davis for real now!”

Alexander chuckled. “Poor guy.” He placed the tablet on the table. “As for the rest of the crew, nothing really stands out. For example, the Chief is highly resistant to heat, radiation, and electricity. Haley has morphic hair, but she can only control color and length. And Dan can enhance the flavor of foods and drinks.”

“Are you kidding?” Augustus slapped the table. “Dan’s power is the most useful of the bunch.”

Annie gave him a look. “You’re kidding, right? His power is basically sprinkling sugar on food to make it taste better.”

Augustus sighed. “Only you have that disgusting habit. Food is morale! It helps us get up in the morning and brings people together to bond over a meal. You shouldn’t underestimate it.”

Alexander laughed. “Understood, Auggy. Dan’s power is serious business.”

“I should make you all eat frozen meals for a month,” Augustus grumbled. “That’ll teach you.”

Talia pouted. “Why am I included in the punishment? I didn’t say a thing.”

“I’m sure you were thinking it.”

“That’s hardly fair. I think about literally everything at all times.”

Alexander grinned. “She’s got you there, old man. The punishment must fit the crime.”

Augustus muttered under his breath.

“Returning to important matters,” Alexander added, “I called you here to discuss the plan. There’s no way to know how this plays out, but as I’m the only one with a space suit, there are versions of this where I go alone.”

Annie growled. “You fighting Radiant alone is stupid.”

Alexander shrugged. “Oh, no, I’m fighting Radiant alone in every version of the plan. What changes is whether the rest of you have a part to play. If we board the station, I want you and Augustus to split off and go after Santiago’s ship.”

“What about me?” Talia asked.

“You’ll be hacking the station from the safety of Sleipnir. I need you to seal all the emergency bulkheads behind them as they go.”

“Why?”

Alexander grinned. “Dramatic secret.”

Annie glared at him. “You can’t just say—”

“Can too.”

She sputtered. “What? No, you—”

“Totally can.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Augustus frowned. “Are you going to—”

Alexander held a finger to his lips. “Shush. That’s an order.”

Augustus nodded slowly. “It’s risky…” He paused. “It’ll be safer if I portal you onto the station, then move Annie and me to his ship directly.”

Talia nodded, too. “I agree.”

Annie glanced between them. “How do you both know what’s going on? Tell me!”

Augustus shook his head. “Can’t. Operational security. Boss’s orders.”

Annie threw up her hands. “That’s just dumb! I’m the only one here who doesn’t know.”

“Yes,” Alexander said, voice somber. “But we simply cannot take the risk that a leak occurs right before the mission.”

Annie crossed her arms and glared around the table.

“What if he makes a run for it?” Talia asked.

“Then we give chase, and I go aboard alone.”

“That works,” Augustus said. “But you understand that in both scenarios, the suit’s integrity is critical, right? Space is unforgiving, Alex. Absolutely unforgiving and merciless. There can be no mistakes.”

“I know. I’ve examined it, and there are no issues.” Alexander frowned. “As much as I don’t enjoy wearing it, it’s easy to empower, too. And I’ll be as careful as I can. I want the experience of fighting Radiant, but eliminating Santiago is the goal.”

“Good.”

***

Alexander stood at the back of the bridge in the OACS and tried not to think about how much he hated it.

The suit fit perfectly. That was the problem. It wrapped around him like a second skin, sealed at every joint, the helmet’s visor casting a faint heads-up display across his vision. The shoulders were tight. The chest was tight. Every breath felt like he was working for it.

He knew it was his imagination. The suit’s atmospheric systems were functioning flawlessly. He was getting more oxygen than he’d get standing in an open field.

But the worship was real.

Every processor, every sensor, every micro-thruster and sealed actuator pressed its adoration into him. The OACS didn’t just respond to his presence the way other machines did. It surrounded him. Enveloped him. A cocoon of blind devotion with nowhere for the sensation to go except directly into his skull, where it sat at the base of his brain like a low, constant hum that wouldn’t stop.

He could tune out a drone. He could tune out a ship. He couldn’t tune out something that was literally wearing him.

Droney hovered at his shoulder, and he felt a flicker of something from the little drone. Curiosity, maybe. Or concern. It was hard to tell, but the familiar presence helped.

The bridge was ready.

Carmen sat in the captain’s chair, eyes on the viewscreen. Ryan stood at her left shoulder. Vikram’s hands rested on his console. Petra watched her sensor displays. Davis sat behind the weapons console, fingers drumming against the surface. Yuki had both hands on the flight controls, loose and waiting.

Augustus stood near the port bulkhead in full armor. Annie leaned against the starboard wall in her red jacket, arms crossed, one boot tapping against the deck plating.

Talia was absent, having set herself up at the computer in her own room.

On the viewscreen, the moonlet’s surface filled the frame. Dark rock and metal, close enough to count the craters. Beyond its edge, the black of space. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

“Two minutes to optimal range,” Vikram said.

The bridge was silent. Alexander could feel every heartbeat on the ship through Electrokinesis. All of them elevated, but steady. Everyone was ready.

“Sixty seconds.”

Carmen’s voice was calm. “All stations, stand by for full combat acceleration on my mark. Petra, I want a full sensor sweep the instant we clear the moonlet. Davis, weapons free on my order.”

Acknowledgments came back clipped and professional.

“Thirty seconds.”

Alexander closed his hands into fists inside the gauntlets. The suit purred, responding smoothly to even the tiniest motions.

“Twenty.”

Annie pushed off the wall and rolled her shoulders.

“Ten.”

Carmen leaned forward. “All stations. Mark.”

The Sleipnir came alive.

Every system that had been dormant for the past seven hours roared to full power simultaneously. The reactor surged. Lights snapped to full brightness. Sensor arrays deployed. Weapons systems cycled from cold to armed in under two seconds.

Yuki punched the throttle.

The ship lurched. For a single, violent heartbeat, everyone on the bridge lurched. Annie even slid backward on the deck for a moment before securing herself. Alexander didn’t move at all. Even without Metallokinesis, the suit’s own stabilizers and magnetic boot clamps immediately secured him. Then the inertial dampeners caught up, and everyone else relaxed.

Sleipnir tore out from behind the moonlet and into open space.

“Full sweep,” Petra called out. “Contact. One station, bearing two-seven-five, range four hundred twelve kilometers. Matches ONI coordinates exactly.”

“On screen,” Carmen said.

The viewscreen shifted. The moonlet fell away behind them, and in the distance, nestled against the surface of a small, cratered moon, a facility resolved into view. Industrial. Angular. Built into the rock itself, with docking arms extending outward and the faint glow of interior lighting visible through viewport strips.

Santiago’s serum production station. Right where it was supposed to be.

“Second contact,” Petra added. “One ship. Docked at the station.” She paused. “Registration is the Santiago Starship Utopian Dream. Its specs are similar to the Sleipnir’s.”

“Davis,” Carmen said. “Weapons free, but hold fire unless we’re engaged by defenses.”

The minutes crawled by.

The station grew on the viewscreen in increments, resolving from a distant shape into something with texture and detail. Docking arms. Antenna arrays. The angular bulk of industrial modules grafted onto raw rock. The Utopian Dream sat motionless at one of the lower berths, dark except for running lights.

Nobody spoke. The crew watched their stations. Davis’s hand rested near the weapons console. Yuki kept the ship on course with small, precise corrections. The only sound was the steady thrum of the reactor and the occasional chirp from Petra’s sensor board.

“Captain,” Petra said. “Something’s wrong.”

Carmen looked at her. “What is it?”

“We’ve been in the open for over six minutes. More than enough time for even passive sensors to flag an unknown contact on approach.” Petra shook her head. “Even the laziest spacer alive would have noticed us by now, and that’s assuming they somehow missed the automatic alert. But there’s been nothing. No defenses coming online. No active scan. No hails. Not even a power spike from the station.” She looked up from her display. “It’s dead over there, Captain. Nothing but baseline power.”

Carmen and Ryan shared a look. Then she turned to Alexander.

“Can you sense anything from here?”

Alexander shook his head. “Not at this range.”

“What do you want to do?”

Alexander glanced at Augustus. “Spin up a portal. I’ll go through first and evaluate the situation. Then, once Talia confirms the Utopian Dream is safe to board, you and Annie take the second portal.”

Augustus nodded. His wand appeared in his hand, and he stepped to the center of the bridge. The air in front of him began to darken as he started tracing the wand in the familiar circular motion.

It would take him at least ten minutes from this range.

Annie watched the portal form. “So we’re just teleporting into a place that should be shooting at us, but isn’t?”

“Yes,” Alexander said.

“Cool. Love that for us.”