“X10Z-Witchblade, Maeve Mirren, launching.” I feel the clamps of the launch sling attach to my mech’s feet. Several Gs of force push me back into my seat as I am hurtled into the blackness of space. I move my hands along the sticks and press my feet on pedals that control the chrome frame. Plasma ignites from my back engines, propelling me forward. I take a moment to admire the stars, simply enjoying the small pinpricks of light against the inky black quilt of the universe.

The frame is an extension of myself; metal is now my skin, its sensors and optics work alongside my own senses to paint an even broader scope of reality. The Witchblade is me. I am the Witchblade. Yet I am still aware of my own soft flesh. We are the same. We are separate. It’s a surreal experience that is maddening if I think about it too much. I turn my head and see the others of my squad flying behind me.

There are five of us. Zeke, a young kid who’s fresh out of training and was just assigned to this squad. Alex, the best sniper I’ve ever worked with, can nail the joints on an enemy mech at 1500k and make it look easy. Morrigan, an absolute wild pilot who is more like a blender in a fight. Jax, a hardass older brother type and good to have in a brawl. And then there is little old me, their Commander. Our target is the supermassive structure a thousand kilometers ahead of us.

The Slip Gate.

“Post up here, Alex,” I say into the coms. “You and the Artemis can watch our ass.”

“Roger,” comes her reply. “Maybe something exciting will happen today.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t hope for that.”

“How else am I supposed to keep my skills sharp? Come on, Commander, I can hope for a small pirate crew, right? I won’t kill anyone, promise!”

“Alexandria!”

“Ma’am.” Her voice is sulky, but I can still hear a smile.

The rest of us go forward towards the gate, leaving the brown and green Artemis behind. She takes position behind a small asteroid, ready to snipe any enemies that might come out of the gate.

Morrigan takes the front position with her two massive glaives on her back. Her frame, the Scarlet Queen, is a rich, dark red with gold trim along the joints. It’s more svelte than most frames and incredibly agile.

Zeke is piloting the Phalanx, a bright gold frame with black trim. He takes his position at Morrigan’s flank.

I stay in the middle of the pack. My frame is the most well rounded of the bunch due to my ability to integrate directly into the Witchblade’s systems. She’s equipped with a single massive beam sword on my back, an anti-material rifle and twelve swarm-bits I control with my mind to slice my enemies apart.

Jax, piloting the Balor, a green bodied frame with white and orange trim, takes his position at my back. Balor is what I can only describe as living artillery, wielding a massive beam-cannon that capital ships would envy. We’re a good team with over a hundred successful sorties, apart from Zeke, and I trust these people with my life. Most sorties end with no combat and today is not likely to be an exception. Still, I always make sure we are prepared and in proper formation.

It’s always when you’re relaxed and comfortable that disaster strikes.

As we approach the gate, it bursts violently into life. The engine at the center whirs rapidly, golden light pours out of the structure. A hole opens in the very fabric of space. The light that emanates from it is so intense and blinding that it’s impossible to make anything out within the tunnel. A moment later, a small fleet of ships pop into existence and the hole seals itself shut. The horizon goes dark again, save for the stars.

“Commander Mirren to Osiris Fleet, welcome to Central Space. We’ll be your escorts today,” I say, a smile on my face. It’s always a good day when people leave the war-torn territories controlled by the corporations of the Milky Way.

“This is Admiral Winters,” came the reply. “Confirmed, Commander. Just lead the way.”

“Are there any aboard that require medical aid? I know a journey through the gate can be harsh on the body,” I ask.

The comm crackles to life. “No injuries or problems have been reported, Commander. We are hale and whole.”

“Wonderful.” I turn my back towards the fleet, signaling my comrades to follow me, guiding the fleet towards Charon Station. It’s usually a quiet job, making sure refugees got into Central Space safely. I enjoy it—the lack of death, the promise of helping others find a new life.

An alert flashes across my screen.

“Not a quiet day after all,” I mutter into the coms. I watch as the gate once again bursts into life and another three ships appear. I recognize the insignia painted on the side of the ships, a skull with twin serpents coiled around it. The Toxic Knights, a group of pirates that operate just outside of Central. Rumor is one of the corpo states finance them—the Fomorian Armory. “We got incoming.”

“I see ‘em,” Alex responds.

Several more flashes appear on the screen as mechs sortie out from the ships’ launch slings.

“This is Commander Mirren of Central’s Fifth defense fleet,” I say into the comms on all channels. “You have entered Central Space with what appears to be aggressive intent. Surrender and no harm will come to you.”

No response.

The pirate ships’ guns take aim at the refugee fleet, opening fire on them. Jax, quick as ever to jump to the defense of others, deploys a massive shield generator that blocks the ships’ energy cannons. Alex is likewise quick to respond, sniping one from behind cover, the head of the mech exploding in a bright flash.

“Damnit. Alright, take them out, but do your best not to kill anyone,” I say. “We capture them and their ships.”

“I know the drill,” Alex replies, taking down another mech with a well-aimed shot.

The fight isn’t a particularly long or difficult one. Scarlet Queen makes quick work of anything that gets within range of her glaives. Artemis picks off several mechs one by one, a single shot for each mech. Jax looks out for Zeke, who is the only one to have a bit of trouble—expected, considering this is his first proper battle.

I ram an enemy mech so hard that the pirate mech stops functioning briefly. The swarm-bits surround and dismember them, leaving the cockpit well intact. Jax blasts off towards the ships, booster fire leaving a trail of light behind him. He unleashes his cannon on them, practically evaporating the engines while leaving the main body of the ships intact.

 I’ll never understand why people attack us here or what they hoped to gain by doing this. Surely, they knew they were following a refugee flotilla into Central. Perhaps they didn’t and just assumed they were chasing cargo frigates? Whatever. The fight is over almost as soon as it begins; the others come along to take the pirates into custody.

“T-thank you,” the Admiral says into coms. “We didn’t realize we were being followed. Apologies for the fuss.”

I chuckle. “Not at all. I’m just glad we minimized loss of life.”

“What will you do with them?” he asks.

“Authorities will take them into custody, investigate them, and then try them,” I say. “In cases like this, the judge will usually stick them on a frontier world to help with any colonizing efforts. If they have families, Central will arrange for them to be moved if they wish—we don’t separate families if we can help it. Once they serve their sentence, Central seals their records, and they can start a new life.”

“That’s remarkably charitable,” the admiral replies. “Is Central really all they say it is?”

I take a moment to reply. “We aren’t perfect, but we do our best, Admiral. Your people are in excellent hands.”

I think back to the motive for this attack, and I wonder if maybe that was the reason: did they know we’d take them alive and give them a new life? But then why attack at all and put people at risk? It doesn’t make much sense to me. Then again, a lot of things make very little sense, like why the corpo states still work against us when all Central wants is to make life good for humanity. It’s been three hundred years since the secession war. One would think they’d get over their grudges.

It takes an hour to lead the fleet to Charon Station, a massive facility attached to a small rocky moon named Cerberus. The planet Cerberus orbits is your standard fare nameless gas giant. Nothing special about it except that it’s a rather beautiful azure. It reminds me of Neptune, several hundred light years away.

As usual, this goes without incident, though I linger for a few moments just to make sure. Occasionally a corpo agent will slip onto a refugee ship and cause problems, though those incidents are exceedingly rare. Still, the pirate fleet from earlier has me slightly on edge. I get all clear from Charon and turn my mech back towards the Danu, the capital class ship I launched from.

Another good day.

My chrome feet stomp along the interior hull of the ship as I enter the hangar. The others follow behind me as I walk the mech back into my normal place among the hundreds of others. Clamps attach themselves to the frame, and I feel myself being pulled back into place and locked in. I end the link between me and the Witchblade, feeling a rush as my consciousness realigns with my body.

I take a moment to breathe, my brain connecting to the cybernetic lungs and heart in my chest. For a moment, time slows as my mind and body adjust. I open the cockpit and get out. I cast a glance back at her, just standing there looking so pretty.

The Witchblade is mostly black with white trim along the arms and legs. She’s humanoid with a sharp face and defined indigo eyes that emanate light when she’s active. The panels on her chest, arms and thighs are powered down now, but when I’m piloting, they glow the same color as her eyes. She’s beautiful. Almost as beautiful as my wife, who I’m eager to haul ass and go see.

“Good work, Commander,” a voice catches my attention. Sif Ragnulf—the ship’s captain.

“Thank you,” I reply, snapping her a quick salute. “A little spicier than I’d thought it would be, but nothing my team couldn’t handle.”

She returns the salute with an easy familiarity. “Indeed,” she says with a smile. “Honestly, I’d say we waste you and your team at this post, but then again, I’m glad for you all on a day like today. A less skilled team might have either died or had to kill.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah. Speaking of, were there any casualties when Jax took out the engines?”

“A few engineers got caught in an explosion, but no deaths have been reported,” she says.

A relieved sigh. “Good. I hate it when people die. Do you need me for anything else?” My voice betrays my impatience. Shit.

She smirks. “Eager to see V?”

I nod. I’m in for it now, I just know it.

“You two are trying for a kid, right?” Her smile warms.

I nod again, my face flushing. “And it’s the right time for me so…”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Give her my best and tell her thank you for… you know, never mind. There’s far too much to thank her for. Just tell her she’s incredible.”

“Well, that’s easy enough. I do it all the time.”

“Commander,” she says, her brows furrowed.

“Yes?”

“Dismissed, get the fuck out of here.”

I really, really don’t need to be told twice. “Thanks,” I say with a grin on my face.

When I’m an appropriate distance away from her, I break out into a jog which turns into a sprint out of the hangar. I go up the lifts and through the long halls that make up the ship, dodging my way through people and friends, not bothering to say hello or goodbye. Time and space pass me by. Before I know it, the door to my room hisses as it opens as I step through the threshold. It closes behind me, sealing itself shut with a loud click.

And there she is—my wife. Viviana lets out a lazy whimper, the sound of the door waking her up. She doesn’t even bother opening her eyes or sitting up.

“Hi,” she says, her voice small and cute and adorable. She nestles herself deeper into the bed.

I love this woman, everything about her, from her tall and slender frame to her dark blue hair and especially her eccentric and always sleepy brain.

“Hi,” I reply, sitting down on the bed beside her. “I think it’s time to get up.”

“Nooo, five more minutes,” she whines, “when you make me coffee, I’ll get up.”

“It’s midafternoon already,” I tell her, a smile on my lips. Every day it’s like this, our fun ritual of me coaxing her out of bed. It’s like a script we play out over and over, but it never gets old. Never. “Gotta wake up, babygirl.”

“Don’t babygirl me,” she says, turning over onto her back. She pulls the sheet up over her chest and rubs her eyes. She’s just perfect. “Make me coffee and then you can sweet talk me as much as you’d like.”

I laugh, lean forward, and kiss her deeply, squishing my body against hers. She wraps her arms around me as our lips dance against one another. She slides her delicate fingers down my waist, gives my ass a firm squeeze and a small slap.

I chuckle, pressing forward into the kiss. “Hey,” I say, a raspy edge to my voice. “Keep doing that and I’m going to get you.”

“Is that a threat?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

I grin at her, scooping her up into my arms. She squeals as she wraps her legs around me. I kiss her again and again and again, peppering her face with affection and her neck with shallow bites. If I could, I would devour her whole. Maybe I should.

“Mmmm, no fair,” she whines. “You know how weak I am when you pick me up like this. Did your sortie go well?”

Some sound of acknowledgement escapes me as I just keep kissing her neck and chest. “Just a skirmish,” I manage to say. “Nothing too serious.”

She pushes away from me slightly, her violet eyes boring into me. “You really should open up with that in the first place, you know,” she huffs. “Is everyone okay? Did Zeke handle himself well?”

“They are, and he did,” I tell her. “If anything had gone wrong, I’d have said so. Maybe crawled into bed and sobbed a bit. Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” V says, taking a steadying breath. “I don’t even know why I worry. It’s not as if you’re the best or anything.”

I lean back in, kissing her neck and holding her tight. “I won’t ever complain that you worry.”

She squeezes me with her arms and thighs, clinging to me. “You’d better not. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, griping her hips and pulling her even closer to me as I run my fingers through her silky hair. “And I have a threat I need to make good on.”

She presses her hardening bulge against me, kissing me deep. “You’re really, really eager, huh?”

“Of course,” I growl. “Today and tomorrow are the best days for trying. I have tomorrow off and you’re being… you. And you always drive me crazy.”

V giggles and runs her long, slender fingers over my cheek. “Coffee first.” She smiles at me but then looks away, chewing on her inner cheek.

I lift my brow as I set her down on the bed. “Yeah, of course. Is um… is everything okay? You look worried? Scared?”

She hesitates, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tight. “Scared,” she says. “Sorry. I got into my head. It’s been six months of trying and nothing is working. I’m worried it’s just never going to work. Whatever I’m doing at the lab to help my endocrine system is—”

I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. It’s the only way to stop her cascading thoughts and doubts. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work,” I tell her firmly. “And it’s always fun to keep trying, yeah?”

She smirks and chuckles softly. “Of course. You won’t be disappointed in me?”

I frown. “V, how could I ever be disappointed in you?” I bite her neck gently. “That’s never going to happen. I’m going to go get you that coffee. Love you.”

V shivers and her face turns flush. “Mmmph, thank you.”

I go into our little kitchenette and go through the steps to make her the perfect cup of coffee, at least by that fiend’s standards. Freshly ground beans, water heated to 99c, and then steep the grounds for two minutes. She’s incredibly particular about this method of brewing and I, being a wonderful wife, indulge her insanity. If it were just me, I’d skip the coffee entirely and grab an energy drink. But this is how she likes her caffeine, and she gets to have whatever she wants.

I turn to look back at her; she’s pulled out her datapad and is already working on the project that’s been keeping her up all hours of the day and night. I watch her quietly, staring at her as her brow furrows in concentration. She brushes a lock of hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear. I just stare.

The timer goes off.

I reluctantly pull my eyes away, give the coffee grounds floating on the surface a little stir, and wait another thirty seconds before placing the brewer over a mug. The pressure plate releases, and the coffee pours directly into the mug, leaving the grounds behind in the filter. A splash of cream and sugar and it’s ready. I bring it over, a stupid smile on my face.

She’s sitting naked on the bed wrapped up in the sheet, making a total mess of where we sleep. She looks up from her work, making grabby hands at the coffee.

“You’re adorable,” I say, handing her the mug.

She beams at me. “Why thank you. I’d say I try, but I really don’t. Honestly, I don’t know why you married me.”

“You are such a creature.”

She grins at me from behind her mug, those violet eyes of hers make my heart race. “Your creature,” she says.

“Yeah.” I run my fingers through her long locks and stroke her face with my thumb. “I’m going to shower and get clean before—”

“Before you have your way with me,” she says, peeking up at me from behind her mug still.

My face flushes. She always manages to do this to me. My brain just goes stupid. “Yes,” I manage to say. “What was I doing?”

She giggles. “Shower.”

“Right.” I regain my composure enough to tease her back. I stretch out, making the skintight pilot suit show off even more of my body than it already does.

She looks at me, unable to pull her eyes away from my stomach. She chews on her lip, her body quivering as she holds herself back. “No fair,” she says, running her fingers along each individual muscle. “I have my coffee.”

“Patience.” I smirk. “I’ll see you just now.”

She squirms on the bed, sighing. “Okay.”

“I love you.” I lean forward to kiss her deeply, my tongue going into her mouth and hers in mine. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves us both breathless. As I move to pull away, she yanks me down again so that the kiss can linger all the more. She releases me after a moment, her face red and her lips swollen.

I smirk at her again and saunter off to go shower. Stripping out of my pilot suit is a mission unto itself, especially with how sticky my skin gets from sweating. I turn the water on full blast and step under the raging stream. The pressure is just perfect, and the heat is soothing. Unfortunately, the interfacing system I use to pilot puts a ton of strain on my body and I am feeling it today.

V invented the method a decade ago, and it took Central by storm. A whole new way of doing cybernetic augmentation and piloting mechs opened up to people. For everything else, the system works like a charm, allowing for easy, non-invasive extra limbs or seamless implants and organs like the heart beating in my chest. For piloting, however, it’s still far too much strain on most people’s bodies. After a decade, I am still one of the few who can take full advantage of the method and I had to undergo major cybernetic augmentation in order to survive repeat sorties.

Steam fills the bathroom. I lift my head to let the water flow down my neck and chest. My breasts are thankful to be free of the skintight suit, though they are a bit tender today. Hormones are such a bitch. I wash up in all the important places and then my hair. I miss the length it used to be as I run the shampoo through the strands—it’s regulation to keep it short. Oh well. V always tells me how much she likes me with short hair and how it drives her crazy, so it’s something I can live with.

All too soon, I’m finished and clean. Without reason to linger under the water, I shut the valve off. I dry myself, put a towel around my hair, another around my body. Stepping out in the living area, I see V is pretty much right where I left her. She hasn’t bothered getting dressed. I just stand there for a moment as I cool off from the shower, watching her. Her hair hangs messily around her face, a few strands linger by her neck and jaw. Her eyes stare intensely at her work, her brow doing the cute furrow it always does when she’s really focused.

I love her so much it makes me stupid.

Gently, and quietly, I clear my throat so as to not startle her… a mistake I’ve made on more than a few occasions. She looks up at me and smiles.

“Hi,” she says softly.

“Hey,” I say back. “Feeling better?”

She nods. “I am.”

I give my hair a quick ruffle with the towel and then toss it into a hamper nearby. The towel around me, too. V watches me with as much focus as she was putting towards her work. My face flushes. The way she looks at me makes me weak in the knees.

She stands up; the sheet falling to the floor to reveal her nudity. Her arms wrap around me, her bare skin cool against mine. I hold her tight and press my lips against hers. She’s so small compared to me, small and delicate and precious. I run my fingers through her long blue hair and pepper her face with kisses.

“I love you,” she whispers. “Maeve, you have no idea how much I adore you.”

“Even though I’m a little stupid?” I ask, grinning widely.

She rolls her eyes. “Especially because you’re stupid.” She bites my lower lip.

I nuzzle her down onto the bed, kissing down her neck and chest, taking a nipple into my mouth. She groans and arches her back as I suckle on the sensitive nub. She runs her fingers through my hair, gripping tight, pulling me towards her chest. I fight back a grin as I ravish her chest, my other hand goes to cup her unattended breast. I twist and toy with the nipple, driving her wild. Her hips gently roll as she squirms under my relentless assault.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” she moans.

I eventually give her nipples a break, my hand sliding down her stomach, taking hold of her hard, swollen cock. She groans as I use long and tender strokes and rub the sensitive spots under the shaft, making sure every inch of her feels attended to. She rewards me with a high-pitched squeal, her hips gyrating along the same rhythm as my hand.

I pull away from her breast just so I can watch her face twist and contort into pleasure. She looks at me with those deep violet eyes.

“It drives me nuts when you look at me like that,” she says to me. “You look like you want to devour me.”

“Because I do,” I say, kissing down her stomach, my hand still rubbing her gently. I kiss the tip of her cock, my tongue swirling around the head. I make sure to pay attention to her favorite spot, just below the tip in the space between the head and the shaft. She’s leaking all over and I greedily, eagerly drink up every drop of her. I kiss down her thighs, biting and sucking on the tender flesh. She releases soft little whimpers; her breath comes out in ragged waves. When I do finally take her into my mouth she gasps and groans, her fingers digging deep into our bed.

I hold her down, making sure she can’t go anywhere, placing her at my mercy. That only drives her crazier. I start off slowly, licking and worshiping every inch of her like the beautiful, divine creature she is.

“Good girl,” I whisper.

She whimpers. “Yeah?”

“The best girl, Viviana.” I only ever use her name when we are like this. It’s the only time she likes it.

She lets out a deep, satisfied sigh and relaxes as I taste her. She lifts and spreads her legs, exposing herself to me entirely. I kiss down her shaft and just under her tiny sack. She arches her back, her moans getting louder and longer.

“Mmm, my love, I’m so close but…”

I grin and give her a few more kisses. “I can wait,” I tell her.

“Nooooo,” she whines. “Get on top of me and fuck me, please. The first orgasm is the best for making babies. I appreciate you wanting to eat me out though.”

“Very well,” I say softly as I crawl my way up to her lips. “Mmmm, you’re so beautiful. How did I get so lucky with you?”

She flushes, turning to look away from me. “It’s been eight years and you’re still saying that to me?”

“I always feel lucky when we’re together like this.” I bite her ear and straddle her hips. I take my sweet time teasing her with my cunt, sliding it along the length of her shaft and getting her even more wet. Sometimes I just fuck her like this, but today I need and want her inside me.

“Mm,” she whimpers, “I love it when you do that.”

“I know,” I whisper. I reach down between us, gripping her cock tightly in my hands, angling her just right before sliding her inside of me. It’s been a while since I’ve had her inside of me; I can’t help but let out a loud moan of my own. “Mm, fuck!”

She grins up at me, her pale skin flushed and glistening. “I love this.”

I rock my hips up and down as I take all of her inside me. She holds her hands up above her head. I grab hold of them in one hand, riding her hard and fast. I want to tease her, to edge her with my cunt, but I can’t help myself—not today. It feels too good to fuck her wildly, to rut until neither of us can move.

She bites down on her lip and struggles against my hold on her wrists as her orgasm gets closer and closer. She screams when it does, her whole body shaking and quivering as she cums. I just keep going, riding her as hard as I can, making sure her orgasm lasts as long as possible inside me. I squeeze my muscles along her shaft and start taking a slower, more deliberate rhythm that has her crying out in pleasure.

She wrests her wrist free and taps on my shoulder, unable to speak. It’s our signal. I stop, moving to lie on top of her. My body almost swallows hers up completely. I kiss her neck and face, holding her tight in my arms. She pants, taking a moment to gather herself before grinning up at me.

“You make me feel so loved and cherished, you know,” she says softly. “You ask yourself how you got so lucky, but so do I, my love.”

I smile and kiss her neck some more, sucking on her sensitive skin, leaving a trail of little red marks. “Maybe in another eight years we’ll finally stop.”

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “I love feeling this way.”

“Me too.”

“Mmm, you haven’t finished yet, have you?” she asks, running her fingers down my back and spine.

I shake my head.

“Well, you know, I upgraded the strap since the last time we used it. The sensory feedback should be even better.” She looks very chuffed with herself.

“Better?! Viviana, it already felt insane when I had an orgasm before! It’s going to be more intense?” I ask, mildly horrified, but also very excited. “Alright.”

She nods. “Mmmhm,” she says. “What can I say? I’m an evil mad scientist.”

“You are.”

I get off her and crawl over to get into the drawer where we keep the almighty strap. I sit up on my knees, slipping on the harness. There’s a little whirr and a click as it powers on and attaches to me. A nanosecond later, it connects to my nerves. The transition is seamless and easy. It simply feels like a part of my body.

I take a moment to admire it on myself, then glance over to my wife who is looking at me like a small but deadly predator. I grin at her.

“Are you sure we have time for this?” I ask, winking. “I know you have a lot of work to do today.”

“We do,” she says without missing a beat, a big grin on her face. “This is work—in a way.”

I blink. “Come again?”

“The strap and all your other cybernetics send data to me pretty much always,” she says.

“Right,” I say, chuckling. “I sort of forgot about consenting to that. I’ve had them longer than we’ve been married.”

She giggles. “Silly. Well, it helps you a lot,” she explains. “The intensity of sex offers incredible data without putting you at risk… most of the time.” She grins widely. “And I can have some work-life balance this way.”

The absurdity of her logic makes me chuckle. “Fair enough,” I say.

“I did ask!” she says, simpering at me. It’s such an innocent look. “You and everyone who opts into testing the interfacing OS agrees to let us use that data for the sole purpose of improving it and making the system safer—It’s not used for anything else.”

“I know,” I remark. “It’s just been a while, and I didn’t think about… this.” I motion to the cyber-strap.

She grins at me and looks down at it with a hungry glint in her eye. “Well, that, my love, is only used to improve the Witchblade. You’re the only one who can handle that level of interfacing anyhow. You’re special.”

I reach for her, grab her by the ankle, and drag her across the bed. She yelps. I look down at her, my eyes burning into her. She’s beyond precious.

“You really are insane. Experimenting on me,” I tease, reaching out to hold her hand, interlacing our fingers, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

“A little insane.” She pushes herself up off the bed and kisses me.

“You’re forgiven,” I say softly, breaking the kiss.

“Thank you.”

I grab hold of her waist and get in between her legs. She eagerly spreads her thighs for me. Her custom-made strap really is spectacular. It self-lubricates and sends little jolts of pleasure through my body even before I do anything with it. I push her legs back, exposing her cute cock. I grin hungrily at her and press the tip of the strap against her.

She’s already so eager, so ready that she tries to push herself onto me, but I hold her back, rubbing myself against her, teasing her brutally until she’s whining in anticipation. Then and only then do I slide into her. Fuck—she really did increase the sensitivity. I have to fight back against my orgasm just from pushing inside her. Of course, it doesn’t help how aroused I already am from fucking her earlier.

“Maeve,” she groans. “Fuck me.”

I grin and slam my hips against hers, driving the strap inside completely. My body gets used to the overwhelming pleasure quickly enough, or at least enough for me to fuck her good and proper. She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me close to her as I thrust my hips inside her again and again. I feel as if I am about to explode as I pound her, but I want to edge this out as long as possible.

I slow down, kissing her deeply and holding her in my arms. She kisses me back, our breasts squishing together. I bite her lip; she digs her nails into my back, dragging them down my skin. I wince, moaning in pleasure and pain.

She pulls away from the kiss, grabbing at my hair. She pulls my head to the side, her teeth sink into the soft skin, almost feeling as if she is about to draw blood. V pulls away, those magnificent eyes of hers looking me over hungrily. I belong to her. There’s no denying her anything when she looks at me like that.

“Harder,” she demands.

I slam the strap into her, our hips slapping together with each thrust.

“Good girl,” she whispers, keeping her grip on my hair firm. “You always know just how to fuck me. Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yes.”

She smirks at me, her face so smug. “Harder, Maeve. I want to see just what that strap does to you when you cum.”

“As you wish.” My heart races. It’s not often she gets like this, but when she does, I melt entirely.

I go harder and faster, my orgasm building and building. But it doesn’t matter how hard I go, how fast my thrusts are, the release of ecstasy is constantly out of reach. She smirks at me.

“Did you…”

She grins. “You’re going to have to ask me nicely,” she says. “Like an obedient puppy.”

“V,” I whimper, my heart skipping a beat. “Please? Fuck.”

She bites my neck again. “I know. I can be so cruel. Keep fucking me like this and I’ll let you cum as much as you want.”

I can only nod and moan. I want that release so badly it hurts. “Please, V… please let me cum.” Fuck, I sound so desperate and pathetic. Only she can ever make me feel owned.

She orgasms again as I pound into her, her cock squirting over the both of us. She arches her back as the feeling overpowers her and she clenches her thighs and arms around me. I groan and moan and pant, so fucking desperate to cum. She just groans, enjoying my futile effort.

“Mmmm,” she whispers. “That’s a good puppy. Just a little more.”

I thrust again and again, my clit throbbing and aching for release. “As you wish.”

“Such a good girl. Cum,” she commands.

And that’s all it took. Her command releases me. My whole body freezes up as the orgasm swells through me. I bite down on her shoulder, my breath coming out as strangled moans. My toes curl, my fingers dig into her skin.

I’m torn apart by bliss.

The pleasure subsides after a time, my body still shaking. We smile at one another, sharing another tender kiss.

“How did you like it?” She giggles, her eyes softening.

“It was perfect,” I say, pressing my forehead against hers. “Unexpected but perfect. Used a voice command, huh?”

“Yep!”

I shudder and shiver, my orgasm still not quite over. I take a deep breath to steady myself. “Brutal.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah.” I brush my fingers through her hair. “Yeah, I do.”

---

“Here you go,” V says, pushing a small device into my hands.

“Wait, has it been two weeks already?” I blink several times, wondering where the time has gone. I take it from her and set it down on the desk and get it and myself ready.

“Sure has!” She beams. “I’ve been counting down the minutes. Literally two weeks to the moment as of right now.”

I chuckle. “You’re cute.”

“I know.”

The thin needle pricks my finger; I wince, but only slightly—I hate needles. I pour a drop of blood into a little slot on the device, close it, and wait.

“Sooooo, what is it?!” she asks brightly. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Hold on!” I tell her, my heart is in my throat, my body trembles. “It takes a few moments for the stupid machine to get the hormone readings.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “But tell meeeeee.”

I sigh. “Patience.”

“Fine.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

The machine dings and flashes a big plus sign. I blink several times. Words don’t come to me, so I just hold out the device.

She snatches it from me, squealing in delight. “WE DID IT!”

“We did,” I say softly, her enthusiasm making me come back to myself. “See, you had nothing to worry about in the end.”

“I knew if I kept playing around with my hormone levels, I could get them baby makers working again. Well, okay, I had some doubts. I’m not perfect.” She puts her hands on her hips, looking incredibly pleased with herself. “We’re going to be moms.”

That makes me grin wide, elation and realization truly dawning on me. I embrace her tightly. “Yeah, yeah we are.” I take a seat after a moment, just processing the news. “I’m going to miss piloting,” I say softly. “Sorry, I’m not unhappy. It’s just… this is happening.”

V hugs me tight, her slender arms wrapping around my shoulders with surprising strength. “You don’t have to get out of the cockpit right away. Baby is safe where they are and I already accounted for this. For at least the next three months, it’s safe. Interfacing with the Witchblade after that will take too much out of you for it to be safe. You don’t have to give it up just yet.”

That makes me feel slightly better. “Well, even if it did, it was my choice to carry our baby.. Could have used an artificial womb like you suggested.”

She chuckles. “I’d feel better if you did. Not too late to change your mind, either. In a few weeks, I can transfer them over to one. The zygote just needs to be more stable, but it’s low risk.”

“I’m considering it now that it’s happening,” I muse. “I’ll think about it. For now, I’m just glad we’re at this stage. If we do go down that route, we should go back to Earth. I’d feel better about using one in a place with real gravity.”

V shrugs and kisses the top of my head. “Whatever you want. I can drag my work anywhere and what are they going to do? Refuse my transfer request.”

“As if anyone can refuse you anything.” I smirk. “Would you take time off when they were born?”

She nods. “Of course. At least a year, but you know me, I’d get so bored that I’d have to do something.”

I chuckle and smile softly. “Yeah, fair. Well, I’ll need to let the captain know, because once I can’t pilot anymore, I’m not coming back until they’re off to uni.”

“Now that we’re here, are you happy to take such a long break?” she asks. “I know you were when we agreed to have a baby, but now?”

I take a moment to answer, running my fingers across my jaw. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I know fighting doesn’t happen all that often and I’m passionate about making sure we can keep helping people and protecting them… but I’m okay stepping away from it all. At least for a while. Not like I’ll be old when they grow up.”

“Very well,” she says, puffing out her chest and putting her hands on her hips. “Then if you want to go back to Earth, we’ll go back to Earth. I’d do anything for you except get pregnant myself.” She motions to her body. “I put in a lot of effort making myself look this way and sorry kiddo, I don’t want to do it over again.”

I pull her close and onto my lap. “You’re funny.”

“I know, but I’m also serious.” She leans in and kisses my neck. “I wouldn’t have wanted kids on my own, but with you, I’m excited and happy. I wonder what we should name them.”

The gears are already whirring in her brain, I can see it in her eyes. I kiss her nose and then her lips. She lets out a happy little hum.

“We’ll sort it out,” I tell her. “We don’t need to get ahead of ourselves here and now.”

The lights in the room flicker off and the emergency red turns on. No alarm went off and there isn’t a drill scheduled for today.

“Shit.”

Fight instinct kicks in. I stand up, V still in my arms. I set her down, reaching for a lockbox under my desk where I store my gun. V may not be a soldier, but she is quick to act, going into our closet to pull out two armored flexsuits and breather helmets. The suits can withstand bullet fire and the helmets vacuum seal, providing a half hour worth of air in space.

She tosses me mine and I quickly strip out of my normal pants and shirt to slip into it and then snap the helmet on. She does the same with practiced speed. This was something we trained for often in case of emergency.

“Ready?” I ask.

She nods, drawing her own gun.

I use my wristwatch communicator to attempt hailing the bridge. No response. I try to reach Captain Sif directly. Nothing.

“Comms are down,” I say.

She furrows her brows. “What?” she asks. “That’s not possible.”

“Comms are down,” I repeat.

“Fuck.”

I open the door manually and very slowly spot check around the corner. At the moment it looks clear, and I hear nothing dangerous. Alex comes out of her room, looking at us with confusion. Like us, she’s in her tactical gear and has her weapon drawn. I exchange a silent glance with her and step out into the hallway, motioning for her to follow. We proceed carefully, constantly on the lookout for enemies.

V is right behind me. Alex positions herself at the back and we go forward in a line, making sure not to make ourselves an easy target for potential infiltrators.

A gunshot cuts through the silence.

I peek around the corner. Armed men with assault rifles are shooting into a group of maintenance workers who hadn’t had time to gear up. Outrage wells up in me, but I shove it down and focus. Under normal circumstances, we are supposed to limit enemy casualties, but when the ship is boarded like this, the top priority is keeping control of the vessel.

I hate to deal out death.

I motion for Alex to join me at the front. Taking point, I step around the corner and squeeze the trigger three times. My shots strike true, piercing their visored helmets. They die to the sounds of shattering glass. Alex hits her mark too, her targets dropping dead.

We move forward; I check the bodies of the workers. No pulse. All of them were my friends, people I’ve lived and worked with for years. They weren’t soldiers—they weren’t even armed. Fuck! Whoever is attacking us, they are entirely evil. Who guns down workers like this? For now, the best I can do for them is move them to the side so that they aren’t stepped on. They deserve better than that. I’ll have time to mourn later.

The dead soldiers aren’t wearing any sort of uniform that I recognize. Black tactical gear, like the flexsuits we are wearing, but that’s just the galactic standard. I search for any kind of emblem that might tell me who they are working for, but I find nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“They really don’t want us to know who they are,” Alex remarks. She removes the helmet of one of the slain soldiers and injects a retractable needle from her wrist into his neck. Her eyes flash green for a moment. “Scanning biometric data,” she says, her voice almost robotic. She removes her hand. The needle retracts into her wrist with a subtle squelch. She sighs. “Their data has been scrubbed. No pings coming back from any known database.”

“Someone with a lot of power is backing these guys,” I remark. “You really found nothing at all, not even something small?”

Alex shakes her head. “Nothing, Commander.”

Viviana furrows her brows, the gears turning in her head.

“What’s going on up there?” I ask.

She frowns. “This shouldn’t be possible,” she says. “The ship being boarded like this without so much as the proximity klaxon going off? Comms going down? I built most of those systems and they wouldn’t just fail like that.”

“Well, they did,” Alex says. “And enemies are here.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, you moron,” she snaps. “And that’s not my point.”

Alex clenches her jaw but says nothing. I shoot her a glare, understanding what my wife is getting at.

“You’re thinking sabotage,” I say for Alex’s benefit.

“Yes.” V’s brow furrow deepens. “It was during shift change too, when everything was chaos. We need to hurry.”

Alex frowns. “Sorry,” she says. “That was stupid of me to say just now.”

“It’s fine, I’m over it,” V replies. “I’m not the kind of person to hold grudges. Let’s get out of this alive, yeah? Sorry I called you a moron.”

She nods. “Your wife has called me worse,” she says with a chuckle. “I’m a pain in the ass.”

Somehow, I manage a smirk. It’s reflexive, an attempt to be light in a dark and shitty situation. “We’ll grab a beer when this is over. Promise.” It’s not a promise I can keep, but it’s one I make all the same. Sometimes people just need a little something to look forward to in a situation like this, to be thinking about that brighter tomorrow.

“You? Drink?” She grins. “I’d never thought I’d see the day.”

“I drink sometimes,” I tell her. “Not that I can right now.” I pat my stomach.

Alex looks disappointed for a moment. She’s been trying to get me to drink with her forever, but then what I’m saying clicks and she gasps. “No way!” She beams brightly. “Okay, well then, I’ll drink double.”

V smirks. “No need. I’ll have her share.”

“Fair,” Alex says. “Congratulations. Thanks for telling me, even in the middle of this shit show.”

“Of course.”

I take the front again, quietly leading us down the long and narrow halls of our ship. Normally, this place is bright and filled with activity. People coming and going to their various tasks and taking time to talk to one another. We’re a military ship, but we’re also tight-knit and familiar with one another’s lives. People have gotten married on this ship—hell, Captain Ragnulf officiated one just two months ago.

I push those thoughts out of my mind; I can’t afford to have them right now. My focus needs to be on the task at hand. The objective in a situation like this is clear—eliminate the threat, secure the bridge. Charon Station isn’t too far away either, and I worry about those who are still there. If pirates or mercenaries capture a capital ship like this, it will be a total disaster for those civilians.

Are they the target maybe? It’s the only thing that makes sense. It would take corpo backing for this kind of operation to be successful. They have threatened war if Central kept their open border policy in place in the past. Is that what this is? Has war begun because these pieces of shit can’t stand losing people to use as fuel for labor?

More soldiers. Four of them. They spot us at the same time, opening fire on us. Alex and V duck into a doorway for cover. I take position behind metal crates. A cacophony of ricochets and gunfire make it difficult to hear anything else. I signal Alex to provide cover fire and then I pop out of cover to get eyes on their position. Projectiles hurtle past my head before I duck back into cover. The bullet fire stops. They shoot again. They favor three-second intervals. I wait for one more cycle. They shoot again. Boot steps approach. I roll out of cover. Alex does the same. Patience paid off—we catch them as they were pushing in towards us. In an instant, we cut the four of them down. Another group eliminated, but how many more?

“They must have a lot of boarders,” V says. “A lot.”

“What makes you say that?” Alex asks.

V furrows her brows. “Because they have poor tactics. Assuming sabotage, which I am, then they likely boarded with a large force rather than a small strike team. So far, these soldiers are hardly elites.” She motions to the dead. “That means they want this to be a battle of attrition. They want to overwhelm us by hitting multiple vital parts of the ship at once. They are willing to lose many people—maybe all of them.” She grimaces. “Their leaders are disgusting.”

“Can you do anything to slow them down?” I ask her.

Alex lifts a brow. “Wait what? What could she even do here?” She frowns. “Sorry, I know you do a lot on the ship but—”

I don’t mean to, but I laugh. “Viviana is the most brilliant woman in the galaxy. She can do whatever she wants.”

Alex looks incredulous. “Commander, she’s still a civvy.”

“Now isn’t the time for flattery, my love,” V says. “I have been trying to get into the system between fights, but all the security protocols have been changed. Whoever did this was someone I trusted. Only four people, including me and Sif, even have clearance. I know it wasn’t her.” She taps her chin. “Only one of the four is good enough to have done this without tripping any of my fail-safes.” She hugs her arms around herself, her words faltering. “It was Cleo,” she says. “She’s the only one who could have done this.”

What do I say? What can I say? I’ve known Cleo for almost as long as V. The two of them are best friends and lovers occasionally—I’m going to rip that woman’s spine out for this. I reach out toward my wife, squeezing her shoulder.

“We can find out more once we’ve secured the bridge,” I say, trying my best to put on comforting airs. It’s all I know to do right now. “Keep trying to override the security and see if you can’t restore coms.”

She simpers, refocusing on the task at hand. “Of course.”

More boot steps. We get back into cover. I see V out of the corner of my eye typing away furiously at her datapad. For now, it makes sense to hold up here and let her work. The enemy group rounds the corner, coming from the direction of the enlisted bunks and cafeteria. More people to mourn.

Like the other groups we’ve killed, they are armed with galactic standard assault rifles, except for one. They have some sort of weapon I’ve never seen before. It’s heavy and has three long, thick barrels attached to a rotary. It almost looks like an ancient M134—something right out of a holovid. For the moment, it doesn’t seem like this group has spotted us.

“Alpha and Orion teams aren’t checking in,” one soldier says.

The one holding the massive gun makes a grunt of acknowledgement. “This is Central’s best,” they say, their voice gravelly with a cybernetic undertone. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy. Status on the captain?”

“Executed, sir. The bridge is secure,” they say, sounding so pleased with themselves.

Not Sif. Not like this.

“The ship is ours,” they continue, “But, we keep getting pings of someone trying to hack into security.”

“The Witch,” the cyber man says. “She warned us about that one. She’s the only one who can take the ship back from us.” He grunts. “The team sent to kill her must have failed. Find and eliminate her.”

“Yes, sir!”

 “The rest of us will proceed to the mech hangar and destroy the units inside. The fleet will move in after.”

Alex looks at me for direction. I glance over at V. She is working faster than ever, the implants in her violet eyes glowing bright under the dim red lights. Static sounds in my ears as the comms come back to life. The overhead lights flicker as they turn back on properly. The klaxon goes off. My wristwatch alerts me to the emergency evacuation order. V also sent out a distress code to send reinforcements from the rest of the fifth fleet. Damn, she’s good.

“Find that damn witch,” the cyber man shouts. “Fucking distress signal is going to ruin everything.”

They still haven’t seen us and for now, I’m not willing to come out of cover. Better to let V just keep doing what she’s doing and not drag her into a firefight. A brief look of panic comes over her face. She cries out in pain, her violet eyes turning black. A counter-hacker? Fuck.

“Check out that noise,” the cyber man says.

Now I pop out of cover. I can’t help my wife with whatever virtual battle she’s in, but I can protect her from these assholes. She’s the best. She’ll be fine. Alex follows my lead. I go for the big guy, and she takes aim at a grunt. She cuts down her target, but the man I shoot, the one with the massive gun, isn’t hurt at all. My shots bounce off his armor—mother fucker.

I call for Alex to get down. She doesn’t listen, repeatedly squeezing off rounds that do nothing. Fucking pain in my ass she is. The gun’s barrels spin and let loose a painful scraping sound. It unleashes a massive violet beam. Alex dodges, somehow, and the beam flies by her, melting a hole into the wall. No cover can protect against that. Fuck. I lay down cover fire to grab his attention, and hopefully let Alex take better aim. If there’s a weak spot in his armor, she’ll find it.

He shoots again, this time at me. I duck under the beam, cursing under my breath. Alex shoots again, and I hear glass popping. The heavily armored soldier falls to one knee and grunts in pain. She’s hit him in the eye, but he isn’t dead yet. I take aim at the other soldiers. I see a muzzle flash. Alex cries out in pain. I miss my shot. I take my eyes off the soldiers for one second to check on Alex. She’s clutching her bleeding shoulder.

Violet light blinds me, the heat painful against my exposed face.

The beam strikes Alex square in the chest. She was there one moment, then gone the next, the bottom half of her falling to the floor in a charred heap. Fuck! Fuck!

Viviana screams silently, clutching her hands to her head. She’s fought off whoever invaded her systems, her eyes returning to their normal color. The man grunts as his gun powers down, the long barrel smoking and cherry red. What a horrific fucking weapon that is.

I dash towards him. It’s my only chance, and he’s going to pay for what he did to Alex. Cover will not save me from this thing. He needs to go down. Now. I see the barrels spin to life again. I hop to the left and the beam passes me by. His aim is off thanks to Alex’s taking out his eye.

Another shot slips by me. I keep pressing forward, guided by pure instinct. He fires again. I roll, feeling the heat scorch me even through my armored suit. I’m still okay. The two soldiers behind him open fire with their assault rifles. One of them clips me in the leg. It’s agonizing, but I don’t stop.

My suit would have absorbed most of the impact. I know that if I stop for just one second, that’s it. That massive gun will put an end to me. I need to take advantage of the opportunity Alex gave me. He shoots again; I dash to my left, out of the way. Two seconds between shots. Ten meters to go.

I can make it.

One soldier in the back gets shot, his visor shattering, and his body falls limp to the floor. Viviana must have come out of cover. I want to scream for her to get down, but I can’t lose focus—I trust her. With five meters to go, I draw my knife, ready to plunge it into his neck.

The cyber man turns, point his gun at Viviana—my wife.

“Get down!”

I don’t think, I just leap in the way -

---

“Maeve!” I scream until my voice is raw.

The man lets out a bloodcurdling death rattle as he falls to the floor. Dead. Maeve’s knife sticks out of his neck. She must have thrown it just as he shot. I run over to her, squeezing the trigger of my gun as I move. I hit the last remaining soldier directly in the head, just like Maeve taught me to. Head shots are risky but permanent. I slide across the ground as I come to a halt, looking down at her mangled body.

She’s breathing.

I inspect her, trying my best to keep my composure. She’s lost her whole left arm, including her shoulder. The beam was so intense it cauterized everything it didn’t destroy outright. I can fix this. I just need to get her out of here. The problem is her right leg. Stupid woman. The bullet went completely through. The suit clenches around her wound automatically, applying pressure and releasing a disinfecting gel that seals the injury. She won’t bleed out. I just can’t carry her.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry I have to do this,” I say, trying my best to sound cheerful even though she’s out cold. I pull out my datapad, linking to it directly. Now that I’ve obliterated the mind of that hacker, I have access to the ship again. I just wish it had been Cleo. This guy was too sloppy, too aggressive to be Cleo.

It’s not like having access at this point will do us a whole lot of good. The best I could do was hail the rest of the fifth fleet. Anything else I might do could hurt my people just as much as the enemy and Sif is already dead. Fuck.

I isolate this sector of the ship and turn off the gravity. We float. I need to hurry. Her wound in zero-g is going to get real bad, real quick. She’ll lose the leg if I can’t get her some place safe. I cast a glance over at Alex’s remains. She saved Maeve’s life with that crack shot. Damnit, she didn’t deserve to be killed like that. I hope the others on Maeve’s team are okay. We have already lost so many people.

I steel myself; grab hold of my wife and kick off the floor. The force sends us tumbling down the hall. I do my best to keep us steady in the air. There are chaotic sounds throughout this section on the ship. More soldiers? Friendlies? Damnit, Maeve, this is your specialty, not mine. I hear more gunshots. People die. I can’t tell who. Where do I go? The medical bay is in the next section of the ship, but I hear fighting coming down there.

Sif is dead. They have taken the bridge. When I find Cleo, I’m going to strangle her. I’m going to rip out her spine and beat her until they are nothing but bloody gelatinous goo.

No time. No time. I can think about my revenge later. Okay, V, think. The escape pods are in the other direction, opposite the fighting, but they are still so far away. The way forward is filled with enemies, so that won’t either.

The mech bay!

I need to take her to the mech bay. Right. I hold her in my arms and kick off the wall again, dashing with her back and forth as I swiftly take us down the halls. At least we cleared the way earlier. Small favors.

There’s a lift not too far away. I open it up, push us both in. Someone shouts as they shoot at us. I duck, praying a ricochet doesn’t hit Maeve or me. The lift door closes behind us. Normally this feels like a quick trip, but right now it feels like the moment is lasting an eternity. I tap my foot nervously over and over until the lift doors open. I shut the gravity off as I drag her out.

“Even at zero-g, you’re so dense,” I say, as if she’s able to appreciate my humor. It makes me feel a little better in any case. “Almost there, love. Then you can get us out of here. Just a bit more.”

My little stunt has pissed off some enemy soldiers already in the hangar. I hear several loud yells and slight panic. I’d smirk, but I need to get Maeve the fuck out of here. Of course, as the highest-ranking pilot on the ship, the Witchblade is all the way over by the exit hatch. The esteemed position to sortie first is now something I’m cursing. Why couldn’t she suck and be right by the lifts? I look down at her leg. It’s swelling even under the suit’s automatic pressure. Her vitals are not looking good either. Fuck.

As much as one can in zero gravity, I sprint forward, tugging her along. Someone sees us. A friendly. Zeke. One of Maeve’s team. He waves me over towards him. I shake my head. He sees Maeve and pales. He really is just a kid, just twenty years old. I try to flash him a warm and sympathetic smile, but I can’t really make my lips do that right now.

“Get to your mech,” I tell him. “Just get out of here. I sent the evac signal. The ship is lost.”

He nods. “I lost track of Jax and Morrigan a little while ago. We said we’d meet up here but—”

I want to tell him about Alex, but what’s even the point right now? He needs focus if he’s going to live. “They are the best,” I tell him. “They’ll make it.”

“She’s the best,” he says, looking at Maeve, his voice cracking with anxiety.

I frown. “And she’s still alive. So, we need to go or she won’t be. I’m sure Jax and Morrigan are behind you, and we can maybe clear the hangar for them if you can help me get Maeve into her cockpit.”

“Okay,” he says, sounding a little more sure of himself.

We proceed forward quickly; I’ve already wasted so much time. The enemy sees us. Shots ring out, the sound of bouncing bullets fills my ears. I pick up the pace frantically. The Witchblade is within sight. Zeke yells out something. Out of the corner of my eye I see blood globules floating along with the dead bodies of two soldiers.

I don’t look back to see if Zeke is okay. He’s a pilot. He’s young, but he’s still a pilot. Right now, my concern is for my wife and she is going to die if I can’t get us out of here. I fight back tears of frustration and push forward. Is it right to leave and let all the others fight? What am I supposed to do? I look down at my wife and see her mangled body again. I have to save her. No matter what, I just have to. If that makes me a coward, so be it.

I get us to the Witchblade and use the mounting-lift to get us up to the cockpit in the chest. I type in Maeve’s access code. The cockpit opens agonizingly slowly. I drag her inside.

“I’m going to save you,” I tell her firmly. “You’d better not die. If you do, I’m going to clone you and kill your clone just to spite you. Don’t think I won’t.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, my words are just vomited out.

I put her in her chair, reaching for the neural plug and shove it into the base of her spine through the slot in her flexsuit. It connects with a subtle click. She gasps as the neural implant activates, her mind integrating into her machine. It must be awful to be forced awake like this, but I know her—she’ll be fine.

The Witchblade comes to life. Maeve grabs hold of me with her arm and sits me down on her lap. I buckle us in as the hatch closes. The cockpit springs to life, showing us what’s happening outside from the various optics located all over the mech. Maeve has full 360 visibility.

“Thanks for getting us this far,” she whispers; her voice is so weak. “I’ll take us the rest of the way.”

“I know you will; I love you.”

There are still enemies in the hangar. Maeve uses the head mounted guns to pepper them with bullets, cutting them down. Zeke has been killed, his body floating lifelessly through the air. I cling to my wife.

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking down at him.

“He was a good kid,” she says as she walks forward, the magnetic function of the Witchblade’s feet keeping us grounded. The hangar thuds with each step she takes. “Alex and the others, too. They are all good.”

She signals open the bay’s airlock, but they have changed the code because nothing happens. She draws the Witchblade’s massive anti-material rifle and blasts the door from the inside.

The intense beam blows a hole into space. It sucks out everything in the hangar that isn’t nailed down, including the remaining enemy soldiers. The hole gets ripped open, widening, until the energy shield around the ship seals the vacuum. The Witchblade lifts off the ground, the thrusters on her legs and back propelling us forward through the gap.

I watch as we go into the deep black. Enemy mechs are waiting for us outside. They are slow to react to us. Maeve, however, is without hesitation, moving quickly into melee. She draws the weapon for which her mech is named. The massive beam sword cleaves one of the mechs in half, sending a rippling shockwave through our frame. Before I can process what’s going on, she’s already moving towards the other one, slicing off their head and then thrusting the sword into the mechs’ chest, the cockpit. The pilot would have been vaporized instantaneously.

“Hold on,” she tells me. “It’s my turn to be a little insane now.”

“Do what you have to do,” I tell her.

The Witchblade shakes as she dances through the void, sliding between enemy shots, dodging and weaving her way towards the enemy. Swarm-bits detach from the Witchblade with a metallic clank. I watch as the blue beams of light tear through the enemy mechs, shredding them apart, leaving only pieces floating in space.

Maeve pants. She never pants when she pilots. I look down at her leg and furrow my brow. I’m not sure I can still save it. Piloting like this is going to put an even bigger strain on her whole body, especially that leg. I cling to her, tears falling down my cheek.

A bright explosion goes off, catching my attention. It’s from the ship. I turn to watch in horror as the Danu goes up in flame, reduced to debris. Not even a moment later, Cerberus explodes. Chunks of rock fly off in every direction, some of the smaller pieces pelting the Witchblade as they hurtle past us.

The moon lies sundered, the celestial body once a place of hope now in lifeless ruin.

Charon Station is gone. All those people. Thousands of people just wanting a new life—on their way to a new home. People I thought of as family on the Danu. Alex and Zeke are gone; did anyone else make it? I don’t know what gods to pray to, but I pray to them all. Please let some of my friends be safe. More tears well up in my eyes. I can’t help but weep. How could Cleo do this? Why? How did I not see what was coming? I am truly pathetic.

“I’m making her pay for this, Maeve,” I hiss. “I will find out who she’s working for and make them all pay.”

“You’ll get that chance,” she says, her voice steadfast and firm. “We’ll make them pay.”

I put my hand on her stomach and nod. “I know.”

There are another three mechs blocking our way. They draw weapons. Purple beams of light hurtle towards us. She dances through them again with uncanny human movements. Her movements are so fast they threaten to throw me around the cockpit. I’ve never seen her pilot like this before. Usually there’s a bit more separation between her and the Witchblade, but not right now. I shouldn’t be surprised by this. Of all the pilots I’ve seen data on, my wife is the most gifted with the interface OS. She’s a monster.

She’ll win.

I can almost see the panic in the enemy as she dodges whatever they throw at her. Missiles, beam weapons, bullets, it doesn’t matter. She’s a whirlwind; a force of nature. She stabs through an enemy cockpit. The bit-swarm cuts down another, leaving behind only molten fragments. She is in complete sync with her machine. I’m awed.

Only one enemy remains. The bits come together around her anti-material rifle, snapping into place, forming an even bigger gun. She blasts them with a beam of such intensity that it reduces the entire mech into slag. That one must have been for Alex.

We fly past the wreckage—the dead. She signals the gate to activate. It comes to life, bright golden light illuminating the black quilt all around us. Nothing or no one is in our way now.

We made it.