The bubble shield rippled as bodies clawed and struck in an attempt to break through. The bracer on Nubia's wrist pulsed in time with the ripples, pumping noxious vapors into the air to bolster the barrier. Chillard didn't need to push his mindwork to sense her pain. He could see it in her eyes and the rash spreading along her forearm. Croabarbos technology was dangerous contraband. The risk was starting to outweigh the reward.

Nubia gritted her teeth and kept her arm raised high. Regret and resolve rolled off of her in equal measure. As the pain increased, her surface thoughts focused more and more on her decision to join Spider's motley crew. She'd been a successful pirate before and could be one again, but not if she died atop a random rooftop on an unknown space station. Doubt ate away at her, but she'd always been a woman that made a decision and stuck with it. Spider fought an enemy that would roll over her pirate ships and followers like an icebreaker through frozen space debris. They were evil and Nubia hated evil. She'd decided to stand with his little army against The Pale Garden. She couldn't bring herself to run.

"I, I, I am so scared," Thing 1 said, clutching his companion with his remaining arm.

"I have you, my, my, my love," Thing 2 replied.

The constructs' words startle him out of Nubia's mind.

Their low-faces, once identical 8-bit cartoon cats, had shifted. One wore a top hat and the other an almost too large yellow bow. They looked upon one another with despair. Chillard could not read their digital minds, yet felt a twinge in his heart at the sight of them. He was also afraid, but his own feelings were distant and detached. A gift of his training. Weapons and tactics failed him in the heat of the moment, but the mental conditioning seemed to flood back to him when crisis struck.

Spider and Raven both danced in and out of view. Chillard couldn't see Blockade, but he felt the man's determination to hold the line and that thought was all there was of him. Everyone continued to fight, but there were still too many of them.

Chillard reached out into the minds of the indoctrinated, pushing his mindwork as hard as he dared. There was nothing. A hollow emptiness as if Mastermind-308 had scooped out whatever had once been inside with an ancient melon scooper. Theirs were small voids like a construct or a Core AI. Moving like people but lacking something integral. If there had been something there, anything, Chillard could have lashed out, could have fought. Instead, he clutched his pistol, waiting for the bubble shield to run out of power.

A flying drone crashed into the barrier and it dimpled in for a moment before heavily pulling more vapor from Nubia's bracer. Another such impact would surely deplete the barrier.

Chillard reached out for Patricia and swooned, dropping to a knee. Blood ran down the contour of his beak.

"Get up, Chilly! Now isn't the time for sleep." Nubia strained against the pain in her wrist. The bubble shield was burning her up.

He wiped the blood away, but struggled to regain his feet. A whistling noise assaulted his ears when he finally rose.

The team's shuttle swooped overhead, bombarding the rooftop with high-yield rounds that tore through flesh like paper. Those who weren't killed by the ship's guns were too badly wounded to do more than crawl across the gravel.

Spider: You're supposed to be covering our escape.

Hitman: If everyone is dead, who am I gonna ferry off this nightmare station?

Old Earth EDM music blasted over the battlefield as the ship wheeled back around and barked another salvo of high-yield rounds. Bodies dropped in a neat swath and Spider was hit in the chest. He fell to the gravel hard then rolled to a kneeling position, red and silver spilling from a hole the size of a melon. Holding one hand over the wound, he fired into the indoctrinated with the other.

A hint of his thoughts buzzed through Chillard's mind. Loathing and laser focus. He hated killing civilians even as he did it with cold efficiency. With room to breath, Raven fought his way to the human's side. He pulled Spider to his feet and where there was once a hole in his chest was quickly regenerating raw meat.

Drones swarmed the shuttle and Hitman led them up into the artificial air, away from the building.

"Who are you people?" Chillard whispered to himself.

Spider: Deal with those drones before we lose our only way home.

Hitman: Sorry, Spider.

Spider: I'll live, but some of us wouldn't have. Fall back.

Chillard's heart sank to the soundtrack of the shuttle's fading music. His dwindling morale mirrored the emotions radiating off of Nubia.

"Was that the best move, boss?" Nubai asked. "I can't hold this shield for much longer and the rest of us don't have that fancy silver shit flowing through us."

Spider: Strike Shuttle, is a rooftop evac possible?

Spider and Raven back towards the bubble shield as a new wave of indoctrinated reach the battlements.

Hitman: Not sure, but I'm willing to try.

Spider glanced back at Chillard, Nubia, and the constructs.

Spider: Standby.

Spider's pistol reported methodically, an indoctrinated dropping with each shot.

Suddenly their advance stopped.

"What's going on?" he said, close enough for Chillard to hear him as the words scrolled across his borrowed optic lenses.

"What's this fresh madness?" Raven growled. He deactivated his smoking plasma blade and drew a pistol.

The bodies standing atop and crawling over the makeshift defenses all waited motionless. Their cold eyes stared forward devoid of emotion. The wounded on the gravel roof and the horde at the roof entrance all waited, similarly entranced. While the indoctrinated stood still, Spider found a new clip for his rifle. The damage done to his chest healed over and was covered by a new layer of metal armor-plating.

"What are they doing?" Nubia asked, her arm shaking.

"I don' t know, but lower the shield," Chillard answered. He nodded at the pulsating bracer. "It's done its job."

She sighed and squeezed the bulbous jelly-like device. The bubble popped with a hiss that allowed fresh and untainted air to rush in. She slid it off, revealing raw and swollen skin beneath. Instead of putting it away, she slid it onto the opposite wrist. Thing 2 handed her a canister of soothing spray from one of the first aid kits. Standard anti-inflammatory medicines wouldn't help with croabarbos ordinance. Nubia sprayed on the topical anyway.

The shuttle flew overhead and out over the neighborhood.

Hitman: They're all just standing there for blocks in every direction. Whatever's happening took out the drones too.

The inability to read the minds of the indoctrinated left Chillard feeling deafened and lost. He wanted to know what they were thinking, what Mastermind was thinking.

Hitman: Wait, something is... Spider, you need to see this.

The eyes of a tall indoctrinated glowed for a moment as if a flashlight shined from inside his head, then he collapsed onto the gravel. A woman beside him opened her mouth and the same eerie light shone from within her before she fell to the ground in a gasping fit. A boy collapsed. An old man lit up and then fell back off of the battlements. One by one like dominos the indoctrinated fell. Spider and Raven rushed to the edge.

Spider: Son of a bitch.

Chillard helped Nubia to the battlements to see the spectacle. The light hopped from indoctrinated to indoctrinated and left crumpled bodies in its wake. Most lay still, but a distressingly small percentage moaned or convulsed. In those, Chillard could finally sense a hint of consciousness as if whatever Mastermind-308 had done to them had been revoked. Their thoughts were primitive, basic survival like those of an animal, but that was better than nothing.

The light gathered speed, taking a little less time to run its course with each person.

A tall muscular colonist human climbed over the battlements with a stun rod slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were cold, her staggered steps were deliberate.

"Tell that clever cat she will need to burn me out of every shell I find," she said with Mastermind's rumbling timbre. "I was not designed to capitulate. I was designed to win." The woman froze as she reached for the rod and light erupted from her eyes, nose, and mouth. She dropped in an unmoving heap.

"Was that him, the AI?" Nubia asked.

"Yes," Chillard responded, trying in vain to sense something in the broken woman's mind.

"Shit..." Raven grumbled.

"They will build houses and dwell in them," Mastermind said through a slim, drab colored felarnian as he stumbled toward a gun on the ground. The light found him and he collapsed.

"This is morbid," Spider said as the light danced through the horde.

"Seashell, seashell, sing me a song," Mastermind sang. His host barely reached the top of the battlement before he fell off the side of the building.

"Why is it reciting old Earth poetry?" Nubia asked.

Blockade lumbered toward them, a pile of indoctrinated bodies filled the doorway.

"Something... is wrong," the big human said, his cold voice tinted with confusion.

Nubia ran to his side, grabbing his oversized hand. "What is it, big guy?"

He tensed, clenching his fists. She screamed and dropped to her knees, her fingers caught in the vice grip. Spider and Raven raised their weapons but hesitated, unsure. Blockade snatched off his helmet and grinned.

"This one is different from the others," Mastermind said, using the big man's mouth. "His brain is part chip and nano. He has already been primed to watch and obey. A perfect host–"

The giant froze.

"Let go," Nubia hissed, snatching a knife from her vest. "Big guy, let go." The last was less a plea and more a command.

When Blockade didn't respond, she jammed her blade just above the knuckle of his pointer finger. The digit came free. There was no response. Nubia cocked back for a second strike, but Raven's blade roared and hacked off Blockade's hand at the wrist. Blockade's eyes shifted, growing wide as if surprised. His lips trembled.

"W... What is th... the Pale Garden? Wh... Why does he worship this B... Belladonna?" Mastermind's voice trailed off.

Light erupted from Blockade's eyes and nostrils. His massive body convulsed, a dance that would have jerked Nubia around like a ragdoll if Raven hadn't intervened. The big man fell to the gravel with a loud thud and with him the last of the indoctrinated. Suddenly it was over.

There were too many bodies to sort through. Onika had said they'd need an army to take out Mastermind. She'd been wrong, they just needed Patricia's group of mercenaries and a good plan. However, they did need an army to sort through the thousands left in the aftermath. As if in answer, a large raiel freighter arrived with a crew willing to help with the clean-up. With their assistance, Spider's team set to the morbid job of sifting through the dead.

Most of the indoctrinated died from the strain of Mastermind's mind controlling nanomachines and Patricia's virus. The survivors were like deeply hypnotized and conditioned victims of The Armada's Thought Authority. They followed directions without question and mindlessly waited for more instruction when their allotted tasks were done. After a week of tireless work, the streets were clean, but they were still clearing the detention centers.

Chillard sat in a cafe overlooking the building where they'd made their stand against Mastermind-308. He marveled at the structure. Windows broken, walls crumbling. It looked like a well placed explosion would bring the whole thing crumbling down. Studying the scarred edifice, he realized it was the place where he'd tasted real combat. In The Armada of The Xnean Xnarn there is no more vaulted position than commander of a starship. Even the lowliest of officer is a role of honor among his people. All who rose into the void of space were trained for the great wars to come. All who left the homeworlds were prepared for glorious battles. No one outside of the xnean knew this truth, it was the great secret guarded by the special diplomat corps.

Even if he'd never given it much thought, preparing for glorious war was his noble purpose. He'd believed that up until the indoctrinated broke through the security fences during their first push. Clarity came as Raven and Blockade had fought the horde back into the streets and he'd shook, barely able to hold his stun pistol.

Spider chuckled from the corner booth. Beside him, Nubia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes or her surface emotions. She was mourning. Chillard looked around the room. A raiel from the freighter was making faux coffee and a dwarf martian helped him serve the men and women who came in regularly. Spider and Nubia smoked cigars in the corner, speaking in whispered tones. Chillard made an effort to keep his mind from invading the thoughts of the others.

He struggled with his own.

The door to the cafe swung open and he felt her before he saw her. Patricia, looked far better than she had when she'd found her way to them after the last indoctrinated fell. There was no sign of the bruising and cuts. She healed fast, her brother and Spider healed even faster. The three of them had their own secrets. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and her nose was buried in her datapad. She glanced up as if sensing his scrutiny and sat down at his table.

He watched her, unable to hide his admiration. He'd seen her do amazing things and according to the rest of her team, she'd planned this entire operation. Impressive was not the right word. She smirked and put her datapad down.

"You're not too bad yourself," she purred.

He felt his cheeks grow warm.

"You can still hear my thoughts?" he asked, concerned that their bond had not yet fully faded.

"No, but I think the time we spent entangled in each other's emotions has made it easy to read your expressions."

"I've heard of that happening." He smiled and looked down at her display. There was an image of Onika Fwendi. "Are you still sorting through her files?"

Patricia shook her head. "I've already examined what little she hadn't deleted when she fled from Mastermind. I was just trying to determine what information to leak to The EC when we finally leave. If we're going to keep this station and everything that happened here a secret, we'll need to fabricate events to explain the deaths. Most of the people lost here will be listed as lost in space, but... but Onika deserves better."

"Because she was a celebrity?" he mused, hoping to lighten the mood.

"No. Never." Her scowl was reminiscent of her brother's. "You're right, of course. They all deserve better. I find it hard to see the people behind my numbers and forecasts. That's what this taught me, Chilly. More than fifty thousand people died here... When I let myself see the faces, I feel overwhelmed."

He touched her hand and lowered his guards. Tendrils of mindwork rested upon her psyche in a similar way. He felt her pain and fear, her confusion. She'd spent all of her life focused on the concrete of numbers and facts, avoiding the abstract. Most thought it was because she was cold, but it was because, like her brother, her emotions ran dangerously deep. If she let herself think about the people, those that died on Station-Z, those that died on Canamar, she started to drown. Chillard soothed her mind, helped her cope with the pain she forced herself to experience. He didn't say anything, but he knew she felt him.

"You can't go back to your superiors," she said, startling him with the shift of topic.

"I know," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I've failed and will be seen as a liability. My memories will be probed by the Thought Authority and then I will be disposed of. I fear that would have been my fate even if I'd been successful. If you hadn't deleted my files, I probably would have myself."

For a moment she looked startled. It felt nice to actually surprise her.

"I've encrypted my datapad multiple times since we met, but I didn't fool myself into thinking I could keep you out. Once I heard what you and Spider intended to do, I assumed it was only a matter of time." His voice became bitter. "I'm a liability to you and your friends too."

He felt her relax and let him into her mind.

"You're no liability to us, you're a valuable asset. One we can use if you're willing to work with us."

Chillard pondered her words, his desire to be a dutiful soldier of The Armada warring with the knowledge that his superiors saw him as expendable. Special diplomats never went rogue, never betrayed their oaths. Even in death, their last day was held by their stone for a collector to return to The Armada. All xnean put Armada first, then wing, then family. To do otherwise was unnatural.

Patricia squeezed his hand. She let him see a glimpse of who she really was, who her friends were, Eagle X and their mission. She took a risk and in that moment, he realized she already knew what he would decide. Patricia didn't need to utilize mindwork, she just accessed the available data and knew there was no other route he could take.

A crew of workers entered the cafe and filed into a queue to refill on caffeine. Spider and Nubia went for the door, gathering Patricia and Chillard on the way. Despite Patricia's mind, he was the team's leader. Chillard would have to learn the new hierarchy.

The four walked for a while until they reached an inconspicuous building. Hitman sat outside finishing a long-bread sandwich with Raven.

"You took your time," Raven grumbled. He glared at Chillard, looking him up and down then dismissing him. "So the bird signed up?"

Spider and Patricia turned to Chillard.

"Yeah," he said, returning the big felarnian's intensity. "I'm with you."

Raven scoffed. "Good."

They all entered the building, Spider leading them through a thick metal door and into a large open freezer. Blockade's body laid on a sterile table. His hand and finger rested on a workbench beside it. Someone had peeled the man out of his massive combat armor. Nubia ran her fingers along the muscles of his naked form. She placed her dark hand against the bottom of his white foot. Even in death, Blockade dwarfed her.

The others gave her a moment to feel her sadness.

"We tested his blood," Hitman said. "At first we didn't find anything, but it takes a few days for the T.Nano to detach from the lining of the veins. He's the biggest one I've ever seen, but he's definitely a Pale Garden Trooper."

"He saved my ass five years ago when a Diva-class warship tore into my fleet." Nubia poked a huge calf. "Since that day, He's never left my side..."

Chillard quietly listened, following as best he could.

"I had no idea."

Raven growled. "That's why you're still breathing."

Spider rolled his eyes. "I told you before. We vetted you, we know who you are. Now we know who he is and we have to assume we've been compromised in some way."

"Do you think they planted him to find us?" Patricia asked, looking at the vial of inert nano beside the severed hand. "It implies a dangerous level of knowledge regarding our habits and recruitment."

Everyone's thoughts raced. They dealt with a resourceful enemy whose reach far exceeded their own. A garden of death with many plants and even more roots.

"Doubtful," Spider finally answered. "Five years ago, it was just the three of us. We have to hope their foresight is not that clear or this uphill battle will be even more treacherous." He crossed the room and prodded the dead man's armor, hanging from a rack. "We'll need to investigate this further, but we have more pressing matters."

"They might know the location of home base," Hitman said.

"Exactly. We'll have to evacuate."

"We don't have enough ships for that," Hitman whispered.

"After this," Nubia punched the dead man's leg, "I don't think it's safe to call in any of my connections to help."

"Agreed," Spider said.

"This is going to be a logistics nightmare," Patricia sighed. "We'll need somewhere to house everyone while we deal with any possible leaks."

Silence fell as the weight of their new situation settled on their shoulders. Strangely, it felt like this was how they always operated. Chillard shivered against the low temperature and listened to their thoughts. He'd have to become acquainted with them if they were going to work together. This was as good a time to start as any.

"I actually have a great idea..." Raven finally said. Even he sounded shocked at his words.