The corridors of the Vaadwaur cruiser were twisted metal and scorched plating, the shattered hull a metal grave spread across the blazing sands. Cassidy and Rosewood moved through them with cool purpose, rifles raised, every step echoing through the ship’s carcass.

They passed bodies along the way. Vaadwaur soldiers crushed under fallen struts or burned by ruptured plasma lines. Others were injured but alive, staggering from the darkness with weapons up and fire in their eyes, refusing to surrender. They were cut down without a word, each firefight fast and brutal. This was not a time for negotiation.

The heat worsened the deeper they pressed. The CIC had taken some of the worst of the crash, the deck here buckled, entire control banks sheared apart, exposed conduits spitting smoke and flame. Cassidy kicked through a collapsed hatch, his boots crunching across broken debris into the mangled nerve-centre of the cruiser. Before them stretched mangled consoles, shattered displays.

And, slumped against the back wall beneath a half-collapsed support beam, a Vaadwaur officer they recognised at once.

Drehm was a mess of crushed armour and bloodstained skin. His breathing was ragged as one hand gripped a sidearm he no longer had strength to lift. His single good eye tracked them as they entered, and Rosewood saw the gleam there. Not fear, he thought. Recognition.

Cassidy’s lip curled, but he didn’t lower his weapon. ‘There you are,’ he rumbled.

Rosewood made himself look away, swept about the rest of the chamber. Not a single one of the other bodies here drew breath. Somehow, Drehm was the only one to survive impact. ‘Clear,’ he murmured to Cassidy, but only when he was sure.

Drehm’s breath was a bubbly rattle. ‘Do you humans understand the concept of a soldier’s end?’

Cassidy grunted. ‘A clean death? With a weapon in your hand? Plenty of humans who’d consider it barbaric to kill you here and now, however we dress it up.’

‘Plenty.’ Drehm’s dry tongue licked dry lips. ‘You’re not plenty, are you. Blackbird Special Operations Unit. Designation Rooks. It was unclear… are you the bird? Or the game piece?’

‘Don’t think now’s the time to debate a callsign.’

‘What is it the time for?’

‘We should pull him out of here,’ said Rosewood, shoulders tensing. ‘Drag him back to Proxima. Make sure he faces a trial once this is all over.’

‘Justice. Quaint. Weak,’ drawled Drehm. ‘Taking me prisoner just means I’ll be freed when we finish this conquest. And if I am gone… another will take my place. Another soldier, hardened in the crucible of war, ready to fight and die for the Supremacy.’

Cassidy grunted. ‘Then we’ll kill them, too. We can -’

‘Rook Three to Rook One!’ Nallera’s voice came through their earpieces, sharp and taut. ‘We’ve got enemies inbound on our position!’

Cassidy grimaced, turning away and pressing his earpiece. ‘How close are you to securing the package?’

‘Four says we need a few minutes yet. We could really do with some backup.’

Cassidy’s eyes flickered up to Rosewood. Then he said, ‘We’re too far out, Three. Watch their backs. Get the package. Then get out of there.’

‘Boss, we’re…’ Nallera hesitated. ‘Understood.’

With a snarl, Cassidy rounded on Drehm. ‘We’re taking you out of here. We’re finding every bit of intel in your head. And then you’ll face the consequences for murdering hundreds of thousands. Two, cuff him.’

Rosewood advanced with a sharp nod. Nallera’s voice was all but forgotten, the world narrowing to this dark place. He advanced on Drehm, kicking the sidearm from his grasp, and came to one knee.

Only then, in the gloom, did he see just how much blood there was. How much of the Vaadwaur soldier the strut had crushed.

He swallowed. ‘I’m not sure we’re pulling him out of here, One.’

This time, when Drehm gave a low chuckle, he heard it. What had actually glinted in his eye at the sight of them.

The fear.

‘Kill me… pull me out… and there’ll be another,’ he wheezed. ‘I win. Make me a martyr or a captive… make me an enemy you despise… and all I do is shine a light on the might of the Supremacy. All you will do is restore me.’

Something cold settled in Rosewood’s gut. ‘What were you doing here? On this cruiser?’

‘We don’t have time for this, Two,’ snapped Cassidy.

Drehm’s head lolled as he looked at him. ‘Overseeing… relay.’

‘Construction work. Overseeing…’ Rosewood swallowed. ‘You weren’t assigned to picket duty of Toliman to hound us further. This was a demotion.’

Now the Vaadwaur’s brow furrowed. ‘You are not… stripped of standing… when you lose as I lost?’

Cassidy took three steps forward, footfalls snapping like a whip’s crack. ‘What? Bringing Liberty to the brink of destruction wasn’t enough for your bosses? Slaughtering hundreds of thousands to send a message didn’t please them enough?’

Drehm’s gaze still held that hint of fear. But now what crept in was confusion. ‘Standard operating procedure. Make your enemies bleed for their defiance. You will see it… everywhere.’ He tried to laugh. Coughed. Blood sputtered down his chin. ‘I see. You thought I was the monster under your bed. You misunderstand. We are Vaadwaur. We will strike from nowhere and make you tremble in -’

But he coughed again, heaving wheezes that wracked his dying body.

Cassidy stared. ‘That’s the way of the Supremacy,’ he surmised, voice quiet. ‘And you aren’t their figurehead. You’re disgraced.’

‘No,’ snapped Rosewood, standing. ‘No, he’s – everything he did in Innes. Proxima -’

‘You must have seen our work in AC City,’ wheezed Drehm. ‘Ending the uprising on Cochrane. That is what we do. I, my comrades. Brethren. We are the Supremacy. To defy us is death…’ He coughed again, shuddering, and his next words came as a desperate whisper. ‘Give me an end. A soldier’s end -’

‘This is Three! We’re busting out of here, but we got wounded!’ Nallera’s voice echoed through the CIC. The chamber felt very small, now. ‘You better wrap up what you’re doing fast or we’re gonna have a real bad wait at the Nomad!’

Rosewood and Cassidy’s gaze met. At length, Rosewood drew a sharp breath. ‘He’s nothing,’ he surmised. ‘He’s a mid-level fucking officer instituting standard fucking policy.’

And they had torn up the stars trying to find him.

‘Give me an end.’ Drehm’s words were nothing more than a beg, now. ‘My sidearm in my hand. I have stood in wait for a thousand years to fight and die for my people…’

‘And you’re in agony,’ said Cassidy, voice sounding like it came from a long way away. ‘Dying in the dark. In a nothing battle. For nothing. Which nobody will remember.’

‘…you people are – decadent, weak. Think yourselves superior. You won’t let me bleed out…’

Rosewood shook his head as if to clear it. ‘Boss. We’ve got to go.’

Cassidy didn’t answer him, padding over to Drehm and sinking onto his haunches. ‘Couldn’t save you if I wanted to,’ he said, voice almost soft. He reached to his belt, unclipped a small pack, snapped it open as Rosewood watched, incredulous. ‘And I won’t blow your head off so you can go imagining yourself a soldier, a warrior. Here.’

Drehm couldn’t do more than stare, head slumped, as Cassidy lifted a hypospray to his neck. ‘What’s…’

‘For the pain. I’m giving you what you hate most.’ Cassidy snapped the medical kit shut. ‘Mercy.’

Within seconds, Drehm’s eyes were shut. His breathing continued, a low, dull wheeze, but was slower every time. More laboured.

Rosewood stared as Cassidy stood, stowing his kit. Then the big man nodded and keyed his comms. ‘On our way, Three. Gonna double-time it and we all leave here together.’

The two left at pace, and only when they were in the dimmer, more twisting corridors where progress had to be steadier did Rosewood speak.

‘They might find him. Save him,’ he pointed out.

‘Probably won’t,’ said Cassidy simply. ‘And if so. So what? He’s just one more officer. He was right. They got more where he came from.’

‘You could have shot him. If things go bad on the extraction and you’ve used up a hypo…’

‘I meant what I said.’ Cassidy’s voice was sharper, now. ‘Didn’t do it to be kind. Did it because looking at these people, looking at what they prize, what they want? The only thing worse than me giving him an end of gentle mercy will be if he survives it because of our help. Let him go to either his gods or superiors with that on his soul.’

Rosewood gritted his teeth. ‘What makes you so damn sure?’

Cassidy stopped at a hatch. Observed it thoughtfully. And when he kicked it open, the bright light of the moon of Threshold shone in with blazing warmth and absolution.

‘Because,’ Cassidy said thoughtfully, ‘I’m an anthropologist.’ And he stepped out into the light.