The holographic feed of the Galactic News Network (GNN) once again exploded onto screens across the various systems under the IUC banner with the urgency of a red-alert siren. Gone was the standard, soothing azure background of the network's interface, once again replaced by the stark, flashing banner of crimson and black that read "BREAKING NEWS."
All throughout the living rooms of Olympus, Artemis, Aegis, Rebus, Crescent, Crest, Paragon, Specter, Radiance, Horus, and Elyse Station, all throuhgout the worlds under the banner of the Imperial Union of Celestine, from the colonies to the core worlds and sytems to the command decks of ships and the cockpits of the smaller mining vessels drifting through the belt, the same image was displayed.
Patrons, miners with carbon-scored lungs and dockworkers with hydraulic exoskeletons still strapped to their backs, all looked up in unison, and the air that was usually thick with synthesized tobacco smoke and the smell of ozone seemed to freeze. The automated droids seemed to freeze in place, stopping their mixing as their optical sensors locked onto the overhead monitors. It was now the second time that the GNN red alert flashed in such a short time. It was unusual for it to happen within three months, let alone within the span of a single week.
The camera slowly focused on Seraphina Kross as she sat behind a desk of floating glass, whose usual backlit by a projection of the IUC capital world, Celestine Prime, had changed. It has been replaced by a live, terrifyingly high-definition tactical feed from the void surrounding Mechanicus Station.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Seraphina said, her voice abandoning its usual soothing cadence for a steel-edged gravity that commanded attention, "due to a communication jam, we are just now learning that the situation in the Novellus System has escalated from a corporate scandal into a potential theater of war. Approximately twelve hours ago, what began as a judicial hearing regarding the hostile actions of Starship and Inter-Galactic Solutions (SIGS) descended into chaos."
The image behind her shifted, zooming in on Mechanicus station. A space that was usually filled to the brim with travelling ships was almost barren, with the exception of the burning engines of about a hundred IUC Navy Frigate-class vessels.
"What you are looking at is not a drill. It is not a simulation. This is a live feed from the Orbital Traffic Control of Mechanicus Station." She paused momentarily, as if gathering her bearings due to the shock of the information she had just spoken. "We have confirmed reports that the IUC Navy has mobilized various ships from its stationed fleets around Nova Celeste. Over one hundred Frigate-class vessels, supported by heavy cruisers and rapid-response corvettes, have just maneuvered their way through the heavy traffic, effectively encircling Mechanicus Station."
The sheer scale of the force was staggering. Well, the number of ships wasn't all that amazing, but the number of ships blockading a single station hadn't been seen since the IUC had been given a lead on Kaelen Rix, a former Fleet Logistics Commander who embezzled enough fuel to power a station for a decade and disappeared. However, they haven't made another move on him due to gathered intel pointing to the fact that he was holed up in VIC territory.
"This overwhelming show of force comes in response to a direct attack on high-ranking IUC officials," Seraphina continued, tapping her dataslate with a trembling finger. "We have received confirmation that during the tribunal, an assassination attempt was carried out targeting not only the witnesses but also Grand Admiral Krane and Magistrate Katerina Sol. The assailants were identified as heavy-assault combat automatons, units that bear a striking resemblance to the SIGS 'Peacekeeper' models, though modified for extreme lethality."
She paused, looking directly into the camera lens, her eyes conveying the seriousness of the accusation.
"To attack a Magistrate is treason. To attack a Grand Admiral is an act of war. The IUC has locked down the vast majority of the sectors surrounding Nova Celeste, with new ships jumping into space being forced to either wait or turn around. We are receiving reports that boarding parties are currently sweeping the station, deck by deck, to ensure that all assailants have been properly dealt with."
Seraphina took a breath, composing herself as the feed switched back to the studio. "But amidst the political firestorm and the mobilization of fleets, there is a human story, a story of survival that defies explanation. Not too long ago, we managed to establish a secure link with GNN's own Natalie Parker. Natalie was inside the courtroom when the attack began. She was part of the group that was hunted through the station's underbelly."
The screen split. On the right, Seraphina sat in her pristine studio. On the left, the connection was grainy and the lighting harsh. Natalie Parker sat wrapped in a thermal shock blanket, her face smudged with soot and grease, her hair matted with sweat. She was clearly aboard a ship, the background hum of a ship's engine was audible, but she looked alive. Shaken and terrified, but alive.
"Natalie," Seraphina said, her voice softening. "Can you hear me?"
Natalie blinked, taking a second to focus on the camera lens of her datapad. She nodded, clutching the thermal blanket tighter. "I hear you, Seraphina. Loud and clear."
"Natalie, all of humanity is holding their breath and watching," Seraphina said. "We know there was an attack and that the IUC Marines were clearly overwhelmed. Tell us what you saw go down inside that courtroom."
Natalie let out a shaky breath, her eyes darting to the side for a moment as if checking for threats before returning to the camera. "It... it happened so fast. One minute, we were listening to Mark's testimony, and the next, the roof was coming down. Glass was everywhere, and gunfire started ringing out. It wasn't... it wasn't normal gunfire, Seraphina. This was a massacre. The Marines... the Marines in their exoskeletons... they didn't stand a chance. Those droids moved with utmost efficiency and knew exactly where to hit."
"You mentioned 'droids,'" Seraphina pressed. "We've had word coming from the SIGS representatives that a batch of their heavy-combat units was recently hacked by a third party. Do you think that these terrorists or corporate rivals did such a thing and turned them against the court? Does that match what you saw?"
Natalie let out a bitter, dry laugh. "Hacked? Seraphina, Everyone knows what a hacked droid looks like. They glitch and stutter with every other step. But these things... they had personalities. They taunted us. They coordinated like a spec-ops team straight out of a movie. I even heard one of them cracking jokes while killing Marines. Another one was... it was enjoying it. If those were just machines running a corrupted script, then God help us all."
"You managed to escape," Seraphina said. "You, the Magistrate, Admiral Krane, and a few others. Reports say you were led to safety through the ventilation systems. How did a group of civilians and officials survive a hunt by military-grade assassins when a platoon of Marines couldn't?"
Natalie's expression changed. The fear lingered, but something else crept in... awe. It was awe and confusion.
"We didn't survive because we were lucky," Natalie said quietly. "We survived because of him."
Seraphina leaned forward. "Him? Are you referring to the man at the center of the SIGS inquiry? Mark Shephard?"
"Mark Shephard," Natalie repeated the name, tasting the strangeness of it. "If that's even his real name. Seraphina, look at me. I'm a reporter. I deal in facts. I deal in things I can record and verify. But what I saw today..."
She shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter. "We were trapped in a deliberation room. The door was sealed, and we were, simply put, sitting ducks. However, Mark... he didn't panic. He walked up to a solid durasteel wall, and he punched right through it."
"He... punched through it?" Seraphina clarified, skepticism creeping into her voice. "You mean he used a tool? An explosive?"
"No," Natalie said firmly, her eyes wide. "I mean, he literally used his fist. Everyone else in that room and I all witnessed the metal buckle and tear like wet paper. He then gripped it and ripped a hole big enough for us to crawl through. And later... to get into the vents... there was a fan. An industrial ventilation fan, spinning at thousands of RPMs. It must have weighed half a ton, yet he stopped it with a metal rod and then ripped the entire motor assembly off its mount with his bare hands to clear a path for us."
The feed fell silent for a moment. The billions of viewers watching across the galaxy tried to process the image. An engineer, a man who was a nobody a few days ago and only had a spotlight because he built vents, tore through a space station with his bare hands?
"And that's not all," Natalie continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He had this armor. Something that was the farthest thing from standard issue. It... it appeared out of nowhere. One second, he was in a suit, and then the next, he was covered in this red and black plating with red fur and a red half cape to match. His armor moved like it was alive. It was clearly nanotech, but I've never seen nanotech move like that."
"Natalie," Seraphina asked, "are you implying that Mark Shephard..."
"I don't know what I'm implying," Natalie cut her off. "But I know what he did. He stayed behind, Seraphina. He sent us to the ship, his ship, by the way, which is a whole other story, and he stayed behind to split those two Hunter-Killer droids. Things that wiped out a Marine squad in seconds. He fought one of them alone and came back alive. Heavily injured, but alive."
Natalie looked directly into the camera, her journalist instincts warring with her trauma. "I recorded some of it on my camera. The way he moved... the way he commanded the situation. He wasn't scared. It was like he was... like he was in his element. It was like watching a predator walk into a kennel of prey."
Seraphina nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I see. So, the narrative shifts. We have SIGS crumbling, a Navy blockade ongoing, and at the center of it all, a man whom we don't even know the first thing about. An engineer who fights like a famed super-soldier of science fiction. A victim who refused to lie down and be prey, instead becoming the hunter."
"That's the silver lining, isn't it?" Natalie said, a faint, weary smile touching her lips. "Or maybe the terrifying part. That there are all these files on him, and they are all redacted, blacked out, with parts of them missing for years. We scrutinized him because we believed he was hiding a criminal past, or maybe corporate espionage. But after today... after seeing him take care of machines that cut down through IUC Marines with ease just to save a group of strangers..."
Natalie looked off-camera, perhaps looking at the very ship she was currently aboard. "I don't think he's hiding a crime, Seraphina. I think he's..."
"Thank you, Natalie," Seraphina said respectfully. "Please, get some rest. We are glad you are safe."
The connection was cut. The image of the disheveled reporter vanished, leaving Seraphina alone in the studio once more.
She turned to face the main camera, her expression solemn. The ticker beneath her continued to scroll: ADMIRAL KRANE SECURE - MAGISTRATE SOL IN PROTECTIVE CUSTODY - MARK SHEPHARD ALIVE AND WELL - ALIASTAR THORNE AND LEGAL TEAM CONFIRMED AMONGST THE DEAD.
"The questions are mounting," Seraphina addressed her audience. "Why would a corporation like SIGS risk total annihilation to kill one man? If they were the ones behind all of this, why would they send assets worth billions of credits to eliminate a simple patent holder? The official story of 'hacked droids' is already fraying at the seams. You heard it from our own reporter. These machines were targeting people. They were there on a mission."
She paused, allowing the weight of the galaxy's attention to settle. "But the biggest question tonight isn't about stock prices, or blockades, or corporate corruption. It is the question that Natalie Parker just posed to all of us. Just who is Mark Shephard?"
Seraphina leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "Is he a miracle of engineering? A remnant of a forgotten project? Or is he something entirely new? Something that the powers that be are terrified of? He saved the Grand Admiral. He saved the Magistrate. He has done the IUC a service that cannot be repaid. But in doing so, he has revealed that he is capable of feats that rewrite the laws of human physiology."
The background image shifted to a freeze-frame taken from a security camera in the courthouse lobby earlier that day. It showed Mark Shephard, towering over the crowd, his face calm and unreadable. A giant among men.
"Tonight, Mechanicus Station is a fortress. The Navy is on high alert. SIGS stock prices are in a death spiral. And Mark Shephard remains the Novellus System's greatest enigma. We will continue to follow this story, not just for the politics, but for the truth behind the man who punched through steel to save the law."
Seraphina's voice lowered to a whisper. "I am Seraphina Kross. This is GNN. Stay safe. And watch the stars."
The broadcast faded to black, the GNN logo spinning for a brief second before the feed cut entirely.
POV: Mark Shephard
The silence of the med-bay was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic hiss-click of the autodoc treating the lacerations on my torso. I sat on the edge of the bio-bed, shirtless, the cool air of the ship biting at my skin.
"Marcos," I grunted, wincing as the machine applied a bio-gel to the puncture wound in my stomach and the chairs activated my body's regenerative cells, expediting the process. "Turn it off."
"Your wish is my command," Marcos's voice floated from the ceiling.
The holographic screen on the wall flickered and died, cutting off Seraphina Kross's speculation about whether I was a broken toy who had been experimented on one too many times, or a savior. The room plunged into a soothing dimness.
I looked down at my hands. They were clean now, scrubbed of the oil and blood, but I could still feel the phantom sensation of that simulacrum's metal chassis crumpling under my grip. I flexed my fingers and felt no pain. The bone fractures I'd sustained had already knitted themselves back together, just another gift I had discovered from the Strathari DNA within me as it worked overtime.
That experience, being so close to death's door once again, was terrifying. And it was intoxicating.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the skeletal chair. It felt like ever since I returned to populated human space, the galaxy had caught on fire. I had fleets surrounding the very space I was docked at, and I didn't know if they were there to protect me or if they would start hunting me the very next second because they know just how false my current identity is. I also have corporations trying to erase me, and now, now I have reporters turning me into a myth. I was tired. Not physically, my body, though still injured, felt like it could run a marathon. But mentally, man, I was drained. I was just an engineer. Or I tried to be. But the universe seemed determined to drag a warrior out of me.
'Just who is Mark Shephard?'
That reporter's question echoed in my mind. I wasn't even sure I knew the answer anymore. Was I the man who wanted to build cool shit and advance humanity while getting rich? Or was I the thing that ripped a simulacrum limb from limb when at death's door and enjoyed every second of it?
The door to the med-bay slid open with a soft woosh.
I tensed, my instincts flaring for a split second before I registered the small, soft footsteps.
"Papa?"
The tension left my body like steam escaping a valve. I opened my eyes and looked down.
Lyra stood there, clutching a refurbished version of the teddy bear she held when I found her aboard that frigate. She was wearing her oversized pajamas, her hair a messy halo of curls. She looked so small and fragile while walking in a universe of railguns, killer cyborgs, corrupt directors, and war mongers. Amongst it all, she was the only thing that made sense.
"Hey, bug," I said, my voice raspy but gentle. I cleared my throat, forcing the gravel away. "What are you doing up? It's past your bedtime."
She didn't answer immediately. She walked over to the chair, her eyes wide as she looked at the bandages wrapped around my ribs and the bruising that was already fading to yellow on my arms, torso, and face.
"You got hurt," she whispered, reaching out a tiny hand but stopping inches from my skin, afraid to touch.
"'Tis but a scratch, me lady," I smiled, reaching out and gently taking her hand. I placed it on my arm. "See? Papa's tough. I'm simply built differently... quite literally."
She looked up at me, her big eyes searching mine. She didn't see a monster. She didn't see a redacted file or a biological anomaly. She didn't care about SIGS or the IUC Navy or anything else.
"Marcos said you fought bad robots," she said.
"Marcos talks too much," I muttered, making a mental note to threaten to wipe the AI's gossip protocols. "But yeah, I fought them. And if you think I look bad, then you should see the other guy. Those clankers won't be bothering us again for a long, long time."
Lyra climbed up onto the chair with me. She settled in my arm, resting her head carefully against my uninjured side. The warmth of her presence was grounding. It anchored me to reality in a way that no amount of violence ever could.
"Were you scared?" she asked softly.
"Me?" I chuckled, rubbing the top of her head. "No. I wasn't scared. I'm never scared."
She looked up to me with those big, beady eyes of hers. "Because you're strong?"
I thought about the simulacrum. About the fear I felt when I thought of what Sister Elara had gone through at the hands of simulacrums, the fear I felt when I realized they were hunting me. But then I thought about how I felt a barrier that was limiting me, break.
"No," I said quietly. "Because I have you to look after. And that makes me stronger than anything out there."
Lyra yawned, snuggling closer. "You're the best papa ever."
I rested my chin on her head, staring at the blank screen on the wall. The galaxy could burn. The Navy could blockade every station from here to the Outer Rim. Let them ask their questions. Let them wonder who Mark Shephard is.
As long as she knew the answer, that was all that mattered.
"Go to sleep, Lyra," I whispered into the quiet ship. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"Hey, Mark," Marcos' voice rang out once again, though it was filled with hesitation. "I know right now isn't the best time, but when you're ready... There is something I want to... no, something that I have to show you."
---
Book 2 has wrapped up at Chapter 50, which is a short 13,400 words, and Book 3 has hit the ground running with new chapters!
That means that you can read up to 28 Advanced Chapters on my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/cw/Crimson_Reapr
Crimson_Reapr is the name, and writing Sci-fi is the way.