Part One.

Those who enter the Void are forever altered.

*

The saying among Ghosts was etched on his mind this morning as Jaxson paced, impatiently waiting for the other members of his squad to join him at the airlock.

They weren't wrong. Whoever first coined the phrase knew what they were talking about. That's why a battery of psychological tests were administered every time the Ghosts returned from their hunts.

Jaxson approached the tests with the same level of dread every time. His greatest fear was that he'd crack just enough for the Medics to notice and he'd be grounded indefinitely.

Shriek mind fuckery had a way of doing that to a person. Turned one's mind into cottage cheese. Scrambled memories. Induced hallucinations. Made one think they were hearing voices or seeing things that weren't there.

Jaxson experienced all of the above. Not that he told anyone. Not even his husband knew the depths of how far he was gone. He kept a tight lid on the secret and an even tighter grip on his emotions.

If Frank, his Commander, ever found out, he'd be grounded but good. A caged Jaxson was not a good thing. The Throp would suffer for it.

Jaxson needed to be out there. The Void was where he belonged. Every second away from it meant he lived on the edge between reason and desperation.

The Void was addictive, some said. Like a drug, one had to take increasing amounts to get the same kind of high every time.

Jaxson mentally argued with those naysayers who believed Ghosts were running risks that they need not take. Proponents of the Throps claimed the shields were more than adequate in protecting them from Shriek assaults.
He said no. They had to reduce the numbers of Shrieks or else the Throps would be over powered in a year's time.

Population control was a necessity according to statistics. Jaxson clung to those statistics like a lifeline. His excuse for going into the Void everyday stemmed from them.

But there was a deeper more inherent reason. Revenge motivated Jaxson. His parents untimely deaths at the hands of dangerous alien predators drove him to join the Ghosts in the first place.

He couldn't rest until every Shriek on the planet was dead.

Sure and that was why he was so restless now. His goal wasn't accomplished yet. There were far too many Shrieks out there. They needed to be dead. All of them.

The numbers were against them. The population of Shrieks was far greater than the human population. It was a lost cause. Deep down, Jaxson knew that. Just like he knew killing all the Shrieks wouldn't bring his parents back.

Mick joined him at the airlock. "There you are. We were supposed to have breakfast together this morning."

"Sorry. I had to get some fresh air."

"Fresh air? In the Throp? Our air is recycled."

"You know what I mean."

"I do in a general context but I think you mean something else."

"How so?"

"You've been restless lately. Way more than usual. You want to tell me what's going on with you?"

"If I could explain it, I would."

"So there is something. I can see it in your eyes. You get that far away dazed look that makes me think you're on drugs even though I know you're not."

Jaxson kept his movements still. Mick didn't know how close he came to guessing the truth. "I'm just eager to bag Shrieks." The lie burned them both. Jaxson knew that Mick knew he was lying but he couldn't take the words back now.

"Sure." Mick walled himself off a little more. His face hardened and he retreated into himself. It cut Jaxson deep to see it. "You and me are going to have words after work."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They stood slightly apart, tension hovering around them like the thick dark mists of the Void. Jaxson hated it. He hated that he was the cause of it. But fear held in its grip. The thought of never being able to leave the Throp again was what kept him hurtling down this dark path of denial.

"I'm sorry." The words were inadequate. They served only to remind them Jaxson was at fault. He was the cause of Mick's disappointment in him.

"About what?"

Jaxson pushed the words past his lips. "For lying to you."

"Which part?"

"You're going to make me say it aren't you?"

"I can't make you do anything. Least of all tell me the truth."

"I--"

Mick lifted his hand. "Don't. We'll talk about this later."

"Okay."

"You better tell me the truth."

"I will." All of sudden, Jaxson was weary of carrying the burden alone. The weight of the secret was getting too much to bear. It would be a relief to finally tell Mick despite the fear controlling him. He knew too well the danger of having left things unsaid.

Life was short in the Throps. Anything could happen. The shields protecting them could fail at any moment. They could lose power, exposing the humans to the toxic alien air. The Shrieks could find a way in killing them all.

The fragility of life wasn't lost on Jaxson. He'd experienced loss same as everyone else but for some reason, that loss continued to be a tangible experience as if it took place yesterday.

If it weren't for Mick, he would have been lost to the Void a long time ago. He had much to be grateful for but never had the words to express them.

Every time he tried to speak what was truly on his heart, his throat closed off. He choked on the words attempting to leave his mouth. He couldn't get past the initial, I love you.

Full of love, and pain, really the two were indistinguishable, Jaxson leaned close, whispering in Mick's ear. "I left because I got tired of smelling your bed farts."

Despite how angry he was, Mick laughed. "Shut up. I'm still mad at you." The push was gentle though and Jaxson knew he was forgiven. Not forgotten. Forgiven.

"Hey, love birds. Break it up nobody needs to see mushy stuff this early in the morning."

A look passed between Jaxson and Mick. The tension eased a bit as they turned around. "What, we weren't kissing," Jaxson said.

Dean grinned at them from across the compound. "You looked as if you were about to. Nobody needs to see that this early in the morning."

Mick walked up to Dean and leaned close as if he were about to kiss him then patted Dean's cheek. "Haven't you learned by now that Jax and I don't do PDA's?"

Jaxson laughed. The first genuine laugh in weeks. Relief flooded him. Decision made, he felt the fear dissipate. Not the edginess though.

He itched to be out there. The pull was so strong he took a step closer to the airlock without realizing he did so. He caught both Mick and Dean staring at him and stopped short of entering the airlock. "What?"

"You're that eager to bag Shrieks?" Dean asked. "May I remind you that you already hold the highest record for bagging the most Shrieks in all Throps. You're going to run out of skin before long."

Jaxson eyed the Shriek head tattoos on his arms. Every spare inch of skin was covered with the Shrieks ugly triangular shaped heads. So were his legs and back. "Never can have too many."

"Save some for the rest of us," Dean quipped. "Otherwise you'll have to tattoo your pecker after this hunt."

"You wish you had pecker like mine."

Mick fist bumped Jaxson. "Nice."

Jaxson offered him a grin then sobered. "Where is everyone else anyway?"

"I saw Aris at breakfast. She said she was going to restock her med kit. Trent was in the shower when I left. Have no idea where Frank is."

"Funny. He's usually the first one here."

"Maybe he went on a bender last night."

Jaxson scoffed. "By the book Frank? Not a chance."

"Well he was with Aris then."

"God, I hope not." Jaxson had a beef with Frank for the way he treated Aris. His foster mother put up with the guy and Jaxson could never figure out why. She claimed love had something to do with it. But love would never put up with Frank's philandering.

"Easy babe."

Jaxson looked down at his fists. They were clenched so tight all blood had drained from them. The only reason he stayed in Frank's squad was because of Aris. Someone had to protect her from that asshole.

Jaxson had his pick of Squads to work with but Aris wouldn't leave so consequently, Jaxson stayed too.

He released his fists, shaking them to get feeling back into his fingers. "One of these days. Pow."

"Just let me be there when you do."

"You'll be the first to know."

As usual, Dean had no idea what was going on. "You two are freaking weird."

"Takes one to know one Dean."

"Gentlemen, how goes it?" Aris came toward them, a fresh breeze in a thick cloud of testosterone.

"There are no gentlemen here Aris," Jaxson teased.

"My mistake. Of course not. You're all Shriek killing warriors with the manners of gnats and the B.O. of swamp rats."

"Much better."

"So long as you're satisfied."

"Never, Aris. Where is Frank anyway?"

"Saw him on my way to the med bay. Trent too. He said he had new orders and would be here shortly."

"Get it in gear Ghosts!" Frank's voice boomed from across the Throp. Big, overly loud and twice as obnoxious, Commander Frank Daniels sudden appearance quieted the squad. Trent, his second in command carried a suspiciously thick packet.

They took their places inside the Skimmer. Trent at the wheel. Dean on Scanners in the Turret. Aris on Shields. Jaxson on Sensors and Mick on Comms.

The front nav seat squealed in protest as Frank turned to face the team. "Got special orders from Control. Seems the Shrieks have been spotted high in the mountain ranges to the North. We're to kick some Shriek ass as per usual. That is if Shrieks have asses."

A chuckle rumbled through the group.

But Frank wasn't finished. "But get this. Control wants us to bring one back alive."

Mick lets out a derisive snort. "Are they crazy? That's never been done before."

Aris rolled her eyes. "Clearly they've lost their minds. The minute we bring them into the Throp, the light, artificial as it is, will kill them."

"I'm aware. Nevertheless Control seems to have found a way around that little problem." Frank took the packet from Trent and produced a syringe filled with clear liquid. "These are supposed to prevent them from croaking. Least until they can be studied."

"What's in it?" Aris asked.

"Some kind of gene altering serum, the scientists cooked in a lab. I don't know what's in it. Each one of you will get a syringe. You stun the bastards first then inject them with the serum."

"Stun them? Aw hell that's no fun," Trent complained.

"Yeah. The best part is when their heads get blown off," Jaxson said.

"That's right," Mick echoed.

"Why wasn't I notified about this new serum?" Aris demanded.

"They kept it a secret from everyone. We're the first squad who have the privilege of using the serum."

"Lucky us," Trent commented.

Frank snorted. "Don't I know it. Seems because our squad are crack shots and we bag the most Shrieks, we're elected."

Backs straightened with pride. A lot of fist and hand slapping ensued.

"Boy the testosterone level just jumped up in here," Aris quipped.

Frank chuckled. "Sound off."

The restlessness within Jaxson spiked. Dammit, they hadn't even left the airlock. He clamped on the headset. "Sensors are callibrated. Oxygen flow is nominal."

"Guns are locked and loaded," Dean reported from above. "Scanners are at peak capacity."

"Shields are at full strength," Aris said.

"Copy that. Inform Control."

"Control, we're ready," Mick said into his headset.

"Affirmative. Pressurizing airlock now." Alarms beeped as oxygen exited the airlock. Toxic air with a greenish/yellow tint flowed in. The sight always made Jaxson think of floating vomit. "You're good to go," Control said, "Be safe out there."

"Thank you Control." Mick gave Frank the thumbs up sign.

"You heard them, move out," Frank ordered. Trent drove the Skimmer out of the airlock. The artificial dawn of the Throp gave way to an eternal night of the Void.