"The man's name is Tannis Brock."

Amber narrowed her eyes, staring hard at the menacing figure on the screen. It hadn't taken long for the efficient technicians at Blink to uncover the identity of the man on the recording. Now on the main display a full dossier on him was revealed, and it had a frightening level of detail. Despite the progress they had made, she did not like what she saw.

The picture on the screen gave a much clearer image of their new target – his square-jawed face was rugged and scarred, with dark stubble covering the lower half. Even with a shot of just his head and shoulders, his heavy build was obvious, and thick muscles were visible through the coat he wore. The man's expression was one of grim loathing, glaring out through the screen at them.

"For six years he was one of the Colonial military's most valuable assets," Smith continued. "He served in the armoured infantry on Dailo Prime, taking part in military actions across a dozen systems until he was promoted to the rank of captain. From there was recruited into the military's Ghost Cadre."

"Are you kidding me?" Niamh exploded, sitting bolt upright in her seat. "This guy was a Ghost?!"

Smith gave her a grim nod. "I'm afraid so."

"Wait," Amber interjected. "What's the Ghost Cadre?" She'd never heard the name before, and the faces of her squad mates told her that whatever it was, the Cadre was bad news. She knew that the tree of the colonial military had a lot of branches – she also knew everything about most of them. Even being with Blink, however, hadn't opened her up to this new threat.

"It's a full deniability wetwork institute," Darien explained quietly, staring at the screen with his hand clenched into a tight fist. "The Ghost Cadre – they're the cleaners of the galaxy. If the colonial powers want somebody dead without complications, they send in a Ghost."

Amber swallowed hard at that. She glanced up at the image and then to her right where Hekket sat. He looked just as shaken by the revelation as she was and gave a slow shake of his head. She didn't know what she'd been expecting when they figured out the man's identity, but it hadn't been this.

Idas let out a derisive snort. "Fantastic. So you're saying we're on the hunt for an assassin?"

"Former assassin," Smith corrected. "Ten months ago Brock was discharged from the Ghost Cadre – I was not privy as to why. After that he simply dropped off the grid. I assumed the Ghosts had a way to keep an eye on him, but it seems I was mistaken. It would appear that one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy has decided to become a mercenary."

"Well, whoever he is," Amber said. "Whatever he is, he's just doing the leg work. He is not the one running this operation."

"Quite," Smith agreed. "But he knows who is. All the information we have on him has been red-flagged and circulated to every satellite station and law enforcement body in colonial space. If Brock sets foot on a planet, we'll know about it. If that happens, our task then is to catch him."

"Catch a Ghost," Niamh laughed bitterly. "You expect us to bring this guy in? We're not trained for that!"

"Nobody is," Uther agreed, making a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Call the Ghost Cadre. He's one of theirs. Let them clean up the mess."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the assembled operatives and Amber was right there with them. They all had combat training, but for self-defence against the rank-and-file. Even the best team on the station, hardened by hellish missions that other operatives spoke of in gossiping whispers, was not prepared to take on a professional killer.

Smith waited for their voices to die down, his hands clasped calmly in front of him, face impassive. Then he took a deep breath in through his nose; out through his mouth.

"I assure you, that thought did occur to me," he said. "And I did present our findings to be passed to the Ghosts. However, the unique situation we find ourselves in means that Blink is actually in a better position to attempt his capture."

"How the hell do you figure that?!" Hekket burst out with uncharacteristic venom. Amber looked at him sharply as the medic continued. "You can't send a group of kids after a professional murderer. That's insane! You know damn well what Ghosts are capable of. This guy could bury a whole platoon single-handed if you gave him half a chance!"

"He's just a man," Smith returned smoothly. "Well-trained and dangerous, yes, but still just a man. You've dealt with bigger threats than him already."

"That is not the same!"

"Enough!" An edge of hardness slipped into the Blink commander's voice, a tone that sent shivers up Amber's spine. The man didn't present an overtly intimidating image, but his cold, calculated brand of anger filled her with more fear than any roaring drill instructor. Hekket clearly felt the same as he slumped back into his seat, jaw clenched tightly in frustrated silence.

"That fact is," Smith explained. "We still have not figured out how Brock and the others manage to move from system to system with such rapidity. Whatever method they are using, it's faster than any colonial vessel, much faster than the even the quickest navy ships. Under normal circumstances the Ghosts would be the best choice to hunt down one of their own, but they are bound by the same physical laws as everyone else.

"The surgical strikes this group makes, they are too fast for a conventional force to react to. From the data you've collected we've ascertained that they go in and make their hit in less than forty-eight hours. Unless another Ghost is already on the planet in question when Brock makes an appearance, they'll never be able to dispatch an agent in time. We cannot depend on that kind of luck. Like it or not, we are the only ones capable of assembling a response in time to catch Brock while he is actually on solid ground. We will ensure support from any local forces that are available, but that's the best I can offer."

"That's not much," Darien said.

"It's less than I'd like, yes," Smith admitted. "But at this juncture we don't really have any other options." Then, to Amber's surprise, his tone softened as he ran his eyes over the young operatives. "Believe me, if I had an alternative to give you, I would. I'm painfully aware of what Tannis Brock is capable of. This is not a course of action I wanted to take."

"But you're doing it anyway."

Smith let out a hollow laugh. "Contrary to what you might think, I have to take orders as well."

And Amber could hear the fury in his voice.

*

It took three long days before the transmission they'd been dreading reached Blink Station Alpha.

Amber was lying in her bunk, trying to read from her tech-slate when she spotted the blue pulsing of the Blink bracelet on the bedside table. Her heart juddered at the sight. She kicked away the covers and tossed the slate onto the bed, swinging her legs off the side. Then the voice of one of the station administrators burst over the communications system, confirming her fears.

"Attention, attention, this is a priority message: all operatives from Squads Hammerhead and Vandal, report for duty immediately to main excursion chamber. I say again, all operatives from Squads Hammerhead and Vandal to the excursion chamber immediately."

Taking a shuddering breath, Amber shook away the thoughts of fear and apprehension, instead focusing her mind on the task at hand, step by step. She flung on her black leggings and matching featureless top, slid her arms into the smooth fabric of the Hammerhead jacket and hurtled from the room, pausing only to snatch up her bracelet as she went.

She jogged through the white-washed halls of the Blink station and it wasn't long before she encountered other operatives answering the same call. Two members of Vandal emerged from an adjoining passage and clattered off ahead of her in the direction of the squad barrack room. A moment later Hekket appeared from another passage, almost crashing into her as he came. She sidestepped and fell in alongside him as they ran.

"Game time, huh?" he muttered.

"I guess so," Amber replied. She bit her lip. "You scared?"

"Damn right I am." Hekket shot her a fiery look. "I never signed up to hunt super-soldiers."

"Me neither."

He shook his head. "I guess there's nothing for it. I just hope Darien knows what he's doing."

There was no more time for conversation as the pair burst into the barrack room where several other operatives were already frantically piling on their gear. Darien already had his armour buckled on; Idas stood at his locker checking the massive ammunition drum of his jackhammer, a sleek new model to replace the one he'd lost on their last mission.

Flashing Hekket a nervous smile, Amber bounded over to her locker and punched in her ID code. The metal door slid aside and she unzipped her jacket. Tossing it to the floor, she started unceremoniously dragging the lightweight armour plates from their hooks and strapping them into place. Once buckled on, the malleable tungsten-fibre weave moulded itself to her body, offering the best protection possible without hindering her movement.

She felt her heartbeat quickening as she locked the final vambrace into place around her right forearm. Next came the combat vest; she slipped it on and started jamming its many pockets with spare bandoleers for her carbine, glow nodes and stun grenades. She strapped her side-arm to her right thigh, and then reached into the bottom right compartment of the locker for a weapon she seldom used.

A volt gun, it was slightly smaller than a standard Blink pistol, but with a fat square muzzle. One blast from the diminutive weapon would incapacitate a normal human in seconds, causing a sensory overload that would overwhelm the nerves. Smith had been clear in their initial brief – they needed to bring back Tannis Brock alive, or all their work so far would be for nothing. The problem was that the volt guns only had an effective range of around twenty feet. Amber did not want to get that close to a trained assassin.

Nonetheless, she clipped its holster to her belt and straightened up. Glancing around, she saw that now everyone from Hammerhead and Vandal had arrived in the barrack room and the constant clatter of equipment was rising like a storm as each operative prepared in a frenzy of controlled energy.

Licking dry lips, she removed her lance-carbine from its cradle in the centre of the locker, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon. She reminded herself of what Smith had said: he's just a man.

"We all set?" Darien roared a moment later. He was greeted by a clamour of agreement from both teams, and he raised his carbine in one hand. "On me – double time!"

Amber didn't have time to think. She just fell into step as the twelve Blink operatives formed into two crisp lines and set off through the station's corridors toward the main excursion chamber. Other station personnel and off duty operatives scattered before them as they went, casting furtive glances and surprised looks at the armed and armoured column.

They reached the main excursion chamber where Blink Station's primary Nav-Rod was situated, an eight meter tall behemoth that blazed with sapphire light, a galactic anchor for every single one of the gifted young men and women of the organisation. Amber felt the warm massage of heat at the base of her neck from being so close to it, a sensation of safety and belonging that she knew would be vanishing in the next few minutes.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Darien barked, taking position at the head of the room with the massive Nav-Rod outlining his figure in an aura of electric blue. The other operatives quickly formed up, eyes toward their commander. Amber wiped her slick hands against her trousers, trying to shut out the nerves that were racing through her.

"Our target was tagged by local security on Detton-Mouré. They think he's set up in the factory district to the north of the main settlement. Layouts of the local area are being shunted to your mappers – you've got five minutes to familiarise yourselves with the layout. Then we go." He started pacing, his hands clenched tightly around his lance-carbine. "You all know who and what we're after. Tannis Brock is dangerous and he knows how to kill. Use extreme caution when engaging.

"Our orders are to take Brock alive and we'll do our damnest to bring this son of a bitch home in one piece. But if your life is in danger, on my personal authority as operational commander of this mission, I authorize you to use any and all means necessary to ensure your own safety."

There was the old squad leader she knew and trusted. Ever since this whole grim affair had gotten underway she'd sensed a growing well of frustration and anger in him; the feeling his violent temper could erupt at any moment. Now he stood before them again and Amber felt a surge of relief as he underlined what set him apart from every other squad leader on the station. There was nothing Darien held in higher regard than the lives he was responsible for. Even if that meant disobeying direct orders.

"There is a cordon being assembled by local law-enforcement as we speak," Darien continued. "And the navy detachments are scrambling a gunship flight for air support. They'll keep him contained. It's our job to go in after him. Everyone stay sharp, stay smart, and watch each others' backs. We're all coming home in one piece and we're bringing Tannis Brock along for the ride."

The rumble of approval that passed through the operatives didn't help Amber stamp out the apprehension that had taken root in her mind. She'd been in life-or-death situations before, but for some reason this one dug deeper, filling her with unease even as she tried to concentrate on the map layout of their target zone.

The monsters they'd faced on Titan Aquilla – the Leviathan of Marianas – those things had been so completely alien to her that it had been easy to react against them. They were evil things that needed to be destroyed in order for the operatives to survive. There had been no choice.

Now the evil thing they were trying to destroy was purely, definitively human.

Get a hold of yourself! she thought furiously, shaking her head as if to fling those thoughts away. Together with her fellow operatives – with her friends – she had been through far worse than what one dangerous man could possibly throw at them. Forcing that thought into her mind like a shield, Amber straightened her spine and concentrated as Darien began counting down to their Blink.

She closed her eyes.

Look out Tannis, here we come.