Smith was hanging upside down when Yararum woke them up yesterday.

  “It was a pain to get you out without Kaga noticing.” The Martian huffed, “He probably thinks that you’re dead, considering how much his hawk did a number on your face.”

  Smith's eyes burned with pain. The scars left by the hawk were still fresh, but were at least done bleeding. That sight of blood was the st thing Smith remembered seeing before the fall knocked them out cold.

  How long had they been out?

  Yararum saw the odd look on Smith’s face and reassured them, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. But you can’t go back to Kaga.”

  Smith finally spoke to their new captor, “Why not? I heard you two speaking; you seemed close.”

  Yararum ughed, “When you say close, I hope you mean at least out of stabbing distance. Most of the time, I trust Kaga about as far as I can throw him.”

  He kneeled before Smith, lending them some water.

  Smith cautiously drank it. The loose liquid ran down their lips as they swung away from the fsk. “You’re scared of him, though.”

  Yararum pulled the fsk away, poking Smith to tilt their hanging body. “You really were listening,” He said as he stood and itched his neck.

  Smith stared up at the Martian as they began to scratch at their restraints. The only thing suspending them from the Bioship’s roof was the rope wrapped around their ankles and wrists.

  It would have been easy enough to break out of.

  Yararum had taken their shirt and jacket but not their bandana. Smith thought that he might not have noticed the scar on their palm; better yet, he might not have even known about their power to summon metal.

  “I know about your power to summon metal,” Yararum stated before asking, “How long were you listening to me speak to Kaga?”

  Smith didn’t want to reveal too much. “Long enough.”

  Yararum shrugged, “Alright, Machinist. I guess you know that I’m off to kill one of your siblings then?”

  Tendo, Smith remembered. They only briefly met Cassandra’s Father back in Rome. Although it wasn’t much of a meeting, they didn’t even speak to each other.

  “I know,” Smith said before realizing that they should add, “I also know that Adamus Atheneum is with him.”

  Yararum raised his brow at that, “What do you want with Adamus Atheneum?”

  “I want him dead.”

  Yaraum smiled at Smith, “That makes two of us then.”

  The Councilor walked toward the Bioship’s controls.

  Smith should have been happy. It looked like they were on their way to Tethaseele with a like-minded man. The problem was that the man in question had them restrained and had spoken of things with Ryomen that had left their mind racing. “Does Ryomen not want Adamus dead, too?”

  Yararum ughed again, “No. Ryomen wants what’s inside of Adamus. Well, at least the people he’s working for do.”

  That caught Smith’s attention. “Who is he working for? Tendo?”

  Yararum halted rummaging through his pack beside the controls to gnce at Smith in confusion. “Why would Ryomen be working with Tendo? He wants Tendo killed.”

  Smith was just as confused, “Is that not why he wants him killed? Ryomen asked if Tendo suspected you of anything, right? Ryomen and Tendo worked together in the past. They traded rare metals before the Rusting. What reason does Ryomen have to kill Tendo besides some sort of power struggle or falling out?”

  Yararum removed his hands from the bag. “Tendo and Ryomen worked together?”

  Smith was growing more confused by the second. “Yes?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense…” Yararum’s voice grew faint as he began to pace in thought, “Does this have something to do with the girl?”

  Smith’s scarred eyes lit up as their heart shuddered. “Cassandra?” They asked, hoping that the answer wouldn’t be, “Yes. That’s her name.”

  Smith’s mind was racing again. This time with terror. “What does Ryomen want with Cassandra?”

  Yararum stopped pacing to raise a hand, “I’m telling you it’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want anything. It’s what the people he’s working for want.”

  “Well, who is he working for?”

  Yararum spped a hand over his face and wiped it down, groaning, “I already told you I don’t know…”

  Smith watched Yararum as he sighed and made for his pack by the controls again.

  Their eyes went wide when they saw the dagger.

  Smith clenched a fist and shook in their restraints. Their pale skin writhed against the rope as they prepared to summon metal. But just as they were about to call upon the iron in their blood, they fell ft on their scarred face.

  The ship’s skin did its best to soften their fall, but the sudden jolt still hurt.

  Their eyes rose to see Yararum sheathe the obsidian dagger.

  A bde simir to it had previously left a brutal gash on Smith’s back that they spent weeks healing from as they mourned. Smith hoped that this particur bde wouldn’t leave a simir mark in the future. As Yararum id it down, they realized that he did intend for it to leave a mark.

  Just not on them.

  “Kaga is paying me an awful lot to kill Tendo Soryu. He’s also paying me to bring Adamus to him.” Yararum expined, “The thing is that he doesn’t care if Adamus is alive or not. He just doesn’t want the creature living in his flesh to escape.”

  Smith climbed to their feet.

  They knew what Yararum was going to ask next, and they were all too eager to hear it. They scratched at their scars as he said, “I’m willing to cut you a deal, Machinist. I know where both Tendo and Adamus are going to be tomorrow. If you kill them both and give me Adamus’s body, I can get my coin, and you can get the pleasure of killing the boy.” Yaraum picked the dagger off the floor and held it out to Smith.

  “Deal?”

  Smith took the dagger.

  “Deal.”

  Smith draws that dagger now as they approach Adamus Atheneum in the Martian council hall on Tethaseele.

  They know that metal won’t affect him. They learned that much in Rome. The Rusting inside of Adamus will destroy any metal it comes in contact with. Smith merely spilled blood into the tiles beforehand as a way to separate him from the pack.

  They didn’t tell Yararum that they don’t intend on killing Tendo. That’s business, and this is personal.

  Smith is focused now. Their mind is honed in on Adamus’s face, honed in on his stomach, honed in on driving the dagger through it, just like how he drove that bde through her in Rome as Smith was forced to watch.

  Finally, they think. Finally, I’ll avenge all of you.

  All my siblings that are either dead or scattered into human bodies, my pnet that’s reduced to dust, my friends that were killed in your name, my greatest friend who you murdered, I hope you all know that with this dagger, I will finally bring you peace!

  You’re the one, Adamus.

  They grip the hilt with both hands.

  The one I always should have been after!

  Smith thrusts the dagger into Adamus’s stomach.

  It is only now that they realize the metal walls are yet to rust. It is only now that they realize that Adamus looks horrified when he should be howling and reaching to pull off his bracers. And it is only now that they realize Adamus is not bleeding, even with a bde in his flesh.

  Smith stumbles back.

  Their eyes are wide with horror, shock, disappointment, all of it. They are feeling everything that they possibly can feel in this moment. They are feeling it all so much that they have failed to spot the woman leaping at them.

  Dyndra pulls her sword and swings it at Smith. It cuts their bare chest.

  Blood stains the wall as Dyndra twists to the side in a pirouette, preparing to thrust forward again.

  Smith grasps their sliced chest and calls upon the blood now on the wall. It explodes into a barrage of spikes that Dyndra jumps sideways to avoid.

  She nds atop Vanessa. “What are you doing, you dolt! Get back up and fight!”

  A cry comes from the council chamber. The metal walls Smith summoned burst, being decimated in a furious barrage of blue light. A swarm of dust and shrapnel floods the hall in a blinding smokescreen.

  It takes Smith far too long to see Tendo within that smokescreen, and by the time they do, his palm is already on their face.

  “One!” “Chains!”

  Smith and Tendo’s attacks activate simultaneously.

  Smith calls upon the scars around their eyes to turn the dried blood into chains that defend against Tendo’s transfiguration.

  The csh sends both parties flying away from each other.

  Tendo is the first to recover.

  Smith is already running low on blood. They shouldn’t have spilled so much into the floor tiles.

  That was stupid. Coming here was stupider.

  They should have known better than to trust Yararum, and they definitely should have known better than to trust the word of the Republic.

  Smith doesn’t know who they drove that obsidian dagger into. But one thing’s for sure. It wasn’t Adamus Atheneum.

  Tendo’s hands glow as he pces them on the walls of the council hall. The action turns the marble into hands that reach out at Smith. They duck, avoiding their grasp as they sheath the dagger.

  The marble hands drive their marble fingers down. The transfigured apparitions sm into the floor like mountainous hammers, all intent on smashing Smith into tiny pieces.

  Smith bounces onto their toes and hops backward. The hammers of fingers smash down the hall, rapidly approaching them in violent succession. Smith runs, but the marble hands reach out to grab at them.

  In desperation, Smith holds out their scarred hand, throwing the bandana to the wind as they summon a wall of metal. The wall defends them, but Tendo rode the marble hands to arrive behind it.

  He dismantles the iron blockade with a touch and is on Smith in an instant.

  The pair csh, trading blows in chaotic fury.

  Tendo easily gains the upper hand. Smith can tell that he wants this battle far more than they do. The fire in his eyes is the same one that was in theirs mere moments ago.

  Smith screams as Tendo snatches their arm and drives a knee into their bleeding face.

  Before the blood can reach the floor, Smith calls upon it to strike Tendo. The droplets clump and expand into balls of spikes that would have stabbed Tendo had he not cpped his hands together and made a blue energy shield for himself.

  The shield smacks Smith back, sending them hurtling into what’s left of the wall.

  “You’re the same Smith I saw Cassandra with in Rome,” Tendo states, dropping the shield. “The one who gave that Division jacket to Adamus before the wedding.”

  Smith wipes blood from their mouth. Their vision hazes as they stand.

  Tendo scowls, “I don’t know why you’re here, but if you're looking for her, I’ll—”

  A spear flies toward Tendo’s throat.

  But it doesn’t strike him.

  It holds over his skin along with the dozens of other spears that are now aimed at him.

  One of the Martian guardsmen slowly pokes through a hole in his shirt to expose the hole left by the consciousness transfer machine. The same guardsman then turns to Smith, spotting the simir hole on their chest. “Unnatural filth,” he huffs as Feydrum steps through the rubble.

  “Both of you are under arrest,” Feydrum announces.

  His gaze fixates on Smith as he walks through the hall to find Vanessa and Dyndra still huddled up together. “You have a lot to answer for.”

  Vanessa gres at him. Her body trembles with contempt and the hidden nerves of panic. “I had nothing to do with this.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Feydrum states as he looks at Smith again.

  As the guardsmen restrain them and take them away, there is no doubt in Feydrum’s mind that he has come face to face with the brave warrior that Galihend told him to watch for today. Their presence here has provided the opportunity that he’s been waiting for.

  It may still be wise to wait a little while longer, he thinks, but how long exactly?

  How long will it take for Vanessa to be desperate enough to agree to our pn?