• The bar got much quieter when the strange figure broke in. The figure wore a black cloak, which covered most of his features, but stopped just before his knees. The legs told everyone that he was Ryeaoan. He wore a glove on his right hand, but his left hand also showed the skin of a Ryeaoan. His hood concealed his face efficiently, but they didn’t need to see his face to recognize him—he was very likely to be the only Ryeaoan on the planet Taqua.
    He came in and spoke to the bartender in quiet sentences. Triidxuq saw the fear on the bartender’s face. The money handed to him seemed more to consol him than to bribe him. The talk went for a while, with the bartender shooing away any who came close. Triidxuq had no idea what the hooded figure was saying, but he could easily read the bartender’s lips. From what little the bartender said, he gathered that this was a talk about UNO and IGM, both of which were now considered enemies by most of the Taquan people.
    Then the bartender mouthed a name. Uakrirdigo. The person Triidxuq had come to see. The hooded figured leaned forward, and the bartender jerked his head back, nodding to one of the backrooms. Triidxuq was interested. Uakrirdigo was known for having information on both sides of the war. No one knew how he got his information… supposedly. Triidxuq knew, and he was gradually forgetting his reason not to bring his business to ruins.
    The Ryeaoan went into the backroom, and Triidxuq stepped into a bathroom. Carefully and quietly, he removed a ceiling panel. He had done this many times before, and he knew how to get into every single room there. He knew enough about the Squalso bar to bring everyone in the building behind bars. Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t. He crawled above the room where the hooded figure was meeting with Uakrirdigo. It was time to find out if Ryeaoans really were as perceptive as he had heard.
    Based on the conversation, what he had heard had been mere rumors. The Ryeaoan was completely unaware that he was being spied on.
    “Please, Uakrirdigo is too long. Call me Digo.” Uakrirdigo was smiling. Of course, he was speaking English to be more polite to the Ryeaoan. It didn’t matter, Triidxuq was as bilingual as he was.
    “Alright, Digo. Tell me where the loyalty lies on this planet.”
    “You don’t know? I won’t even charge you for that information. Taqua broke away from—”
    “Not the government, the people!”
    This intrigued Triidxuq. Why would this figure care about the common citizens’ loyalty? To most people, it was the government that mattered. Perhaps, unlike everyone else who came for information, this fellow was smart…
    “Ah. That’s harder to answer.” Uakrirdigo paused. “I can’t charge you for that, either, because I can’t give a certain answer. Many feel betrayed by the IGM, but I feel that many more would gladly rejoin them if it meant hurting the empire.”
    “I see,” the Ryeaoan said. “And has there been any news of the planet Ayarth?”
    “That information I will charge you for.”
    “Digo,” the Ryeaoan said in a soft voice. Ryeaoans seemed even more menacing when they talked softly. “Let me get one thing straight. I already know that the IGM leaders fled to Ayarth. It was never really much of a question. What I want to know is what’s going on there. If you tell me something useful, I will pay you.”
    Uakrirdigo paused. This wasn’t his usual form of business, but he knew better than to argue with a Ryeaoan. “That’s… acceptable.”
    “Good. Then let’s hear what you have to say.”
    “When Nithril’s fleet retreated, they went far, where they thought no one could see them, before they turned around and set a course for Ayarth. The Taquan government knows, but they haven’t warned the IGM. However, there are things that even the government doesn’t know. Nithril’s still alive, even though they reported him dead. In fact—”
    “Enough about Nithril. Does the IGM know about the fleet headed their way yet?”
    “No, but I have some other information you might be interested in. A trash-collector ship went into the debris from the space battle and started picking things up. The government hasn’t paid close attention, but listen closely…” Uakrirdigo leaned closer. “At one point, the trash-collector started getting very picky about what it picked up. Only robots.”
    “Alright, that information I will pay you for.”
    “Pleasure. Anything else I can tell you?”
    “Yes. Where do your loyalties lie?”
    “My loyalties are to myself only.”
    “What will you tell Nithril when he comes here?”
    “Nithril?”
    “You know he’s alive because you saw the robot disguised as him that was floating around in space. But here’s something you don’t know. He’s on this planet right now.”
    “But why would he come to me?”
    “Probably to see if you had a way to get off planet. Anyway, time for me to go.”
    “But what about—”
    “This?” The Ryeaoan held up a bit of money. He used his left, exposed hand. “Take it. I don’t need it.”
    With that, he left. Triidxuq went back through his secret corridor and left the bar. He thought as he walked. Who was that Ryeaoan? And why is he on this planet? And what’s his connection to Nithril? I thought he was dead. And why—
    His thoughts were interrupted as the Ryeaoan came around a tree and stared right at him with eyes he couldn’t see. He could just barely make out the outlines of a human face beneath the hood. Did the Ryeaoan really have to hide his identity?
    “You like getting your information for free, don’t you?”
    Triidxuq swallowed to calm himself from his sudden panic. “What are you talking about?”
    “Don’t make yourself seem stupider than you already look. It’s painfully obvious that you were spying on us.” The hooded figure paused. “Ah, I see. I see the resemblance now. Uakrirdigo is your father.”
    All of Triidxuq’s fear suddenly gave way to anger. “So what?”
    “So you know his secrets to gaining information, don’t you?”
    “You’re not—!”
    “Tell me, son of Digo, if your father was forced to support a side of the war, which would he choose?”
    “Whichever side’s losing,” Triidxuq said with contempt. “He just wants to keep the war going so that his business will keep going.”
    “And who would take over his business if something happened to him?”
    “It would burn to the ground. No one knows how he gets his information—”
    “Except you.”
    “—and I’m not properly equipped.”
    The Ryeaoan cocked his head. “Equipped?” he echoed.
    Triidxuq simply tapped his head.
    “Ah, I see. If I was to supply the means for you to get that surgery…”
    Triidxuq was enormously suspicious. “How would a Ryeaoan…”
    “That will all be explained in time, my friend. Now tell me, what’s your name?”
    “Triidxuq.”
    “Mind if I call you Tree?”
    “Yes, I do mind.”
    “Ok, Triidxuq. My name is Aeynage. Nice to start business with you.”
    “Wait, I never agreed to anything!”
    “Would you dare to disagree with a Ryeaoan?”
    “Depends on how bad your terms are.”
    “I give you the Taquan implant. I help you take over your father’s business. And you give me all of the information you receive. And one other small detail—you will run your business on whatever ship I manage to use to get off this planet.”
    “Why should I go along with this?”
    “Because there are endless ways I could make sure you remain silent.”
    “Fine. First, get me that implant. You won’t be able to do that for another six years though. I’m twenty-four.”
    “I have my ways.”
    * * *
    Replica was not programmed with excitement, but if he had been, he would be thrilled. He was almost done. He had taken over the trash-collector ship, and had finished picking up all of the robots. The robots were even now inside the ship, reconstructing pieces of the Reckless Wanderer from scrap metal. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to restore the ship’s former glory, but once they finished constructing the engines, computer parts, and weapon systems, they could easily reattach them to the ruined hulk and get the ship working again.
    There was one small issue though… The Taquan government had sent a message to the ship, asking why the ship had broken off from the regular method of picking up debris in rows. After a few hours, Replica responded that they were making sure that the robots among the debris weren’t operational. They had immediately responded that they would send gliders to take care of that. He soon found out that gliders were the tiny fighters that had brought havoc upon the Reckless Wanderer.
    They had entered the trash-collector… and the robots under Replica’s command dismantled them. Not long afterward, the Taquan government had sent another message: a warning that some of the robots in the trash-collector were still active. Replica had waited a reasonable amount of time before responding with “I have taken care of them.”
    But, of course, they decided to send the gliders again. It wouldn’t be long before they caught on. Replica would’ve liked more time to further develop the parts he needed, but this would do. They needed to attach the repaired parts to the damaged ship. There was no need to repair the hull, since only robots would be traveling inside of it. Replica maneuvered the trash-collector ship close to the Reckless Wanderer. Then he waited.
    He could see the gliders coming, zipping through space toward them. There were two hundred of them. As they drew nearer, Replica pressed a button to open up the ship. His robots were launched into space, most of them firing at the gliders. For once, the Taquans were taken by surprise. The remote pilots began evasive maneuvers, but they weren’t cooperating with each other. The spun toward each other, some colliding, and caused chaos. The robots launched missiles and fired whatever guns they had. The ones that weren’t firing were repairing the Reckless Wanderer.
    Once the initial confusion was over, the gliders broke their formation to spread out, making themselves harder targets as well as giving themselves room to maneuver. They began firing their lasers. The lasers didn’t do much damage in general, but with the near-perfect targeting systems that the gliders had, they were able to fry some of the robots’ optical sensors, as well as cause some missiles to explode prematurely.
    But one of the two thinking robots in the group thought of something. Moving quickly, it used debris from the windows of the ships and scrap metal to make a crude mirror. Whenever a laser was directed at it, it would move the mirror in the way just before the laser was activated. The mirror was uneven, but it quickly learned how to adjust the angles to directed the lasers back at the gliders.
    By the end of the battle, the 372 operable robots were down to 359. Now only 83 of them were in perfect condition. But the thinking robots, as well as Replica, were unharmed. And the 200 gliders had been reduced to 0. In addition, the Reckless Wanderer was able to travel through space. They would go to the nearest planet controlled by UNO, which happened to be Gerj, and get further repairs.
    * * *
    The thinking robots were arguing about what they would do when they arrived. They were making quick progress—without the need for life support systems, the ship had more engine power. In a few hours, they would be in orbit around the planet. But there was a disagreement. It had started with just a thought—one of them had suggested a blockade.
    The other three had argued—they had been ordered to hide. But then arose the question—did they serve Nithril, or did they serve the New Order? If they did something on their own, they would stand out to the President, and then there might be some rewards… They were no longer arguing about what Nithril would say, they were arguing about whether or not a blockade would work. And at this point, it was only one robot left arguing against the blockade.
    “Ayarth is the only useful planet belonging to the rebellion. That means practically their entire fleet is here. And you plan to put a blockade on the whole planet?”
    “Our fleet is superior in every way,” another robot answered. “The Taquan fleet is the only one that can even be compared to ours. These rebels will die if they try to break through.”
    “Even if we take some damage,” another added, “the President will reward us greatly for halting their progress.”
    “You see?” the last one said. “We have nothing to worry about.”
    “I will not go along with this foolish plan of yours! If you go through with it, I will contact Nithril—”
    All as one, the other three robots shot the neck of the one that disagreed. The head popped off, and the three tore apart what remained.
    “We can build upgrades for ourselves with these parts.”
    “He would’ve slowed down our work.”
    “Don’t even bother trying to justify it, you two. You know it was fun.”
    * * *
    Grand Admiral Lliahm was arguing with the president of the country they were hoping to stay in. They couldn’t find a better place than Yapine, but the president was stubborn. Yapine almost contained a whole continent, Owstahl, which was nearly twice the size—and near the same shape—of Australia on Earth. But what was impressive about Yapine was that the country extended its territory to underground and in the water. Yapine actually had more territory beneath the surface than above the surface. It was the perfect space to hide.
    But Yapine did not support the IGM. Few places on Ayarth did. Politically speaking, it was an IGM planet, but when it came to actually supporting the group, most Ayarthans just figured someone else would do it. There were also some, like the government of Yapine, that were afraid to support IGM because they were losing.
    “But if you support us, the war could turn around completely!” Lliahm was arguing. He was from another country, Amarie, halfway around the planet. It was a much larger country, and supportive of the IGM, but much too obvious for them to hide there.
    “Could,” President Borobom echoed. “You can only promise me a chance. I will not have my country destroyed because of wishful thinking.”
    “If no one fights, then Ayarth itself will be destroyed. UNO has made it clear that they believe Earthlings to be superior. If we don’t—”
    “Listen, President Borobom,” Coordinator Marie interrupted. She had been present, since she was the leader of the IGM, but she had left the talking to Lliahm up to this point. “We know that you’ve been excavating to expand your territory. We haven’t brought as large of a force as you may think—we’ll fit in the new caves if you’ll let us. Many of the caves are still untested, right? We’ll take the risks. And if UNO finds you here, your records and their own will mark us outside of Yapine territory.”
    “And what if UNO doesn’t care about the records?”
    Marie gasped mockingly, unable to help herself. “You suggest that they’re unjust? Well, doesn’t that mean someone should fight against them?”
    “Be careful with your words!”
    “When the Emperor rules over you, he will not be careful about what he says—and his words hold much more power than mine.”
    If she had been talking to someone from another race, the anger might have caused problems. But Ayarthans tried to put logic first in everything. “Alright,” Borobom said finally. “You can stay. But you must stay in the unoccupied caves, outside of our territory. Do not do anything to associate yourself with my people. If whatever army you brought doesn’t fit in the caves, dig more yourself.”
    “Thank you so much for your generosity, President Borobom. We will reward it one day.”
    * * *
    Forced to honor his end of the bargain, Triidxuq was only trying to figure out how this Ryeaoan had managed to arrange for the surgery. It made no sense—military use was the only exception to the law, and even that was rare. No one could get a Taquan implant before they turned thirty.
    “How much money did you pay for that?”
    “Money is of no importance, Triidxuq. I have enough of it, but I didn’t use terribly much money for that.”
    “Then how—?”
    “Perhaps one day you’ll understand.”
    “Aeynage, if you don’t—”
    “Trust me, you can do nothing to me. Your threats are just empty words. Now let me see if you can get it to work.” Aeynage set a miniature jet on the ground.
    Triidxuq focused all of his concentration on the new, mechanical part of his brain. Then he reached out to the computer within the jet and commanded it to activate. The wheels started turning, and when it was moving fast enough, Triidxuq commanded it to launch into the air. It lifted off… and then slammed into a tree and broke into pieces.
    “I did it!” Triidxuq exclaimed.
    “Yes, but you did it wrong. The mechanical part of your brain needs to go along with the organic part, or it’s useless. The computer part of you makes you a cyborg, but not a robot. You have both your mechanical side and your human side—that’s what makes Taquans feared. If it was just about the robotics, UNO would’ve won by now.”
    Triidxuq turned to the Ryeaoan. “Now that you’ve pulled me into this, what side are you on?”
    “No matter what I tell you now, you won’t suspect the answer. Even if I tell it to you, you won’t believe me. Which is why I have to show you. But for now, we have to take care of your father’s business.”
    * * *
    Uakrirdigo was pleased when the door opened. More business! But then his heart sank when he saw that the hooded Ryeaoan had returned. “Ah! It’s you again! Always a pleasure,” he lied.
    “The time I spoke of has come.”
    “And what time would that be?”
    Without answering, the Ryeaoan took off his hood.
    Uakrirdigo began to back away, his eyes wide with fear. “I know you! You’re—” he tripped backwards and fell, his back hitting a wall. “Don’t kill me!”
    “How did I get a reputation for violence? You won’t be harmed.” He put some kind of handheld device on Uakrirdigo’s head, and he heard static. Then everything went black.
    * * *
    Triidxuq felt the release of command over the network, and then he stepped in. Besides his father, he was the only one who knew the codes, and now he used those codes. He physically collapsed as all of the information rushed into his head. It was too much for him. Then he remembered the technique he was taught for filing away information for later digestion. He slowly began to do that, to put the sources of information into a corner of his mind where he could study them later.
    When his mental struggle was over several minutes later, he finally opened his eyes and saw Aeynage standing over him. “Well?”
    “I did it,” Triidxuq said.
    “Then change the codes so that your father can’t get in. It doesn’t matter how outrageous the code is—you can store it in your computer memory now. Now come with me.”
    “Where?”
    “We’re going to get a ship.”
    * * *
    As they walked, Triidxuq carefully pulled up different bits of information in his mind, and gave Aeynage updates as he asked for them. As he started seeing all that was going on in the universe, he began to feel more and more sympathetic toward the IGM. Some of UNO’s agents really were as cruel as they were rumored to be. He sorted through different sources, and found that there were even more than he had thought. There was an army of robots gathering information.
    They floated in space, picking up information from every camera, computer, radio, and everything else, hacking into things easily. Uakrirdigo was only the one to finish the information gathering process—his father, and his grandfather, and his grandfather’s grandfather had all worked on the robots, along with countless friends and business partners. That’s why there was no other information source in the universe that was so valuable—every day, Uakrirdigo had been getting a dozen times more information than IGM and UNO put together. And now Triidxuq was the recipient of that information.
    Curious, he sorted through the information from recent battles. That was when he saw Grand Admiral Melanie Moreno’s assault on the ruined Silent Thunder. And he saw that Grand Admiral Melanie, and a Taquan named Juxa Zivango, were stranded onboard the Silent Thunder. There was also someone else, but he didn’t know his name. He saw all the details of the battle and was amazed. That group of commandos had to be one of the key reasons IGM was still alive. They were marvelous. And now the ship they had stolen was heading to Vigs.
    “Are you listening?”
    “What?” Triidxuq was suddenly aware that Aeynage had been speaking to him for a while.
    “You need to learn to split your attention between your computer and your senses! Look, we’re here.”
    Triidxuq looked. “I see nothing but debris from the battle.”
    “Come with me.”
    They stopped in front of what looked like a damaged escape pod. It had bullet holes and explosion damage, as well as the expected damage from the crash landing. Looking inside, he saw that there was little hope that whoever was inside had survived. Everything was trashed. There was a fist-sized hole in one spot—enough to easily kill whoever was inside. “I feel sorry for whoever tried to get away in this.”
    “I don’t need your pity.”
    Triidxuq turned around, staring wide-eyed at Aeynage. “You?” I suppose a Ryeaoan has a chance, he thought.
    “Of course. These burns are from the recent battle.”
    “Burns? You mean… you’re not…?”
    Aeynage took off his hood, revealing not a Ryeaoan face, but that of an Earthling. “Aeynage is just a word I chose. It’s Ryeaoan for traitor. My real name is Nithril.”
    “Nithril?” Triidxuq began to back away. “You’re the one—” he tripped and fell. “What do you want with me?”
    “You and your father had shockingly similar reactions. You already know what I want—your cooperation; give me the information I ask for. Other than that, you’re free to do what you want… as long as you behave. I don’t want to have to take away privileges from you.”
    “And if I refuse?”
    “I wouldn’t do that if I was you. When you were given the implant, there was another device attached to it. With the press of a button, I can kill you.”
    “Prove it.”
    “So you can see what the button looks like and try to steal it?” Nithril shook his head. “I’m smarter than that. So come on, let’s go.”
    “We’re not going anywhere in this piece of junk!”
    Nithril raised an eyebrow. “Oh really. You think the second in command of the entire Empire is without a plan?” He stepped inside of the escape pod and pressed some buttons on the keyboard of the computer.
    “That thing is trashed,” Triidxuq said. “You won’t get that computer to respond.”
    “Ok then, I’ll humor you. I won’t get it to respond—you press this button right here.”
    “Whatever.” Triidxuq stepped forward and pressed the button that Nithril had indicated. Then something did happen—the escape pod split into thousands of tiny machines, flying around like a swarm of mosquitoes. The walls, ceiling, and floor broke apart and flew several feet away and began their work. The robots began to pick up debris from other ships in the area, along with some metal they found buried nearby. The tiny workers were like ants—though they were tiny, they were strong, and when they worked together, no obstacle was too big. In a matter of minutes, they had created a small ship. They stuck together to become the parts that were missing. The ship was big enough for Nithril and Triidxuq to travel in comfortably for a while.
    “Still think we’re not going anywhere?”
    Triidxuq was too stunned to respond. No matter how good the IGM’s commandos are, how can they compete with Nithril’s technology?
    * * *
    They were soon flying off of the planet. The government tried to call them, but Nithril hit the ignore button. Once Taqua was out of sight, Nithril himself made a call.
    “This is the President’s office. State your business.”
    “I am Nithril.”
    There was a pause, and Triidxuq could imagine the stunned look on the operator’s face. “I’ll put you through to the President right away.”
    Another pause. “Nithril,” a strong voice said. “You have failed twice.”
    “That is a matter of perspective, sir. I didn’t fail. Only one major ship of my fleet was destroyed—I could’ve easily won that fight.”
    “Then why did you end up in an escape pod?”
    “I assure you that there was no miscalculation. I went to Taqua’s surface to discover what was going on with them.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You haven’t heard?” Triidxuq winced. It was never a good idea to make someone in authority feel out of the loop. Nithril was either really stupid, or he knew exactly where the line was that he couldn’t cross. Since he was still alive, he couldn’t be terribly stupid. “Taqua has broken away from the IGM,” Nithril continued.
    “Why would they do that?” the Emperor’s suspicious voice came.
    “Because their leaders abandoned Taqua at the first sign of real danger. They’re now on Ayarth.”
    The Emperor’s voice became harsh. “That would explain the blockade I just got news of.”
    “What blockade?” Triidxuq could see that Nithril wasn’t just feigning surprise.
    “The blockade your forces created around the entire planet to search for these few leaders.”
    “A blockade? What idiots! I gave those robots specific orders to hide.”
    “Which robots?”
    “Thinking robots.”
    There was a pause. When the Emperor’s voice came back, it was more weary than harsh. “Fine. I’ll accept that it’s not your fault. But I’m warning you, Nithril, you had better not slip up any more than you’ve been doing!”
    The transmission cut off. Nithril looked at Triidxuq. “I knew something would go wrong when I put four thinking robots in cooperative control, but I didn’t think they’d do something that stupid.”
    “You knew something would go wrong?”
    “When the thinking robots are destroyed by IGM, they’ll get a boost of confidence. Then I can simply crush them.”
    “What have you pulled me into?”
    “Trust me, it’s for the best. And if you stick with me, you’re likely to survive.”
    “I have one question first,” Triidxuq said.
    “Yes?”
    “I’m not your first companion. Commodore Thorburn Fenn was with you before the battle over Taqua. What happened to him?”
    Nithril sighed. “Sadly, he was not at the meeting place I set. It seems he was either captured or killed.”