The Praetorian — All Sixteen Chapters

Chapter 1 — Born of Dust and Engrams

The Forge of Shards had no windows. The Queen Mother had never required an audience when making history.

Lilith Thragg opened her eyes to red instrument lights, a ceiling of black alloy, and the certain knowledge that the woman standing beside her was the center of the universe.

Well, that's an unhealthy amount of certainty for somebody who's been awake four seconds.

Lilith remained motionless. The voice had spoken from inside her head. It was not a recorded instruction. It sounded offended by the very concept of instructions.

Hello? Anyone operating the expensive body? I'd wave, but apparently we only have one set of arms.

“Who speaks?” Lilith asked.

The Queen Mother looked down at her with an expression that combined affection and extraordinary patience. “You do, my daughter. In time, you will learn how many things you contain.”

That's a beautiful way of saying they put two people in one skull and forgot to ask either of us.

Lilith sat up. Her limbs obeyed perfectly. Her mind did not.

“Mother,” she said, and bowed her head. “I am yours.”

The Queen touched her cheek. “You are my daughter. And you are your own mind. Both truths matter.”

Write that down. She's the first person in this room who's said anything sensible.

Lilith's mouth almost moved. She held it still through an effort that would have impressed the Forge's engineers.

“You will command the Eighth Legion,” the Queen continued. “There will be victories, and there will be failures. I expect judgment, not merely obedience to the loudest voice.”

I feel personally attacked.

“What shall I call the other voice?” Lilith asked.

The Queen's smile was brief. “She will tell you.”

Goblin, the voice announced. And before you ask, no, I'm not changing it to something elegant. You got Lilith. I got personality.

Lilith stood, the black armor waiting beside the dais reflecting the Forge's red light. “I shall serve you faithfully, Mother.”

We shall, Goblin corrected. I may complain every minute, but I'm not leaving you alone with all these solemn bastards.

For the first time in her existence, Lilith felt something she could not classify. It was not fear. It was not devotion. It might, against all reason, have been amusement.

Chapter 2 — The Eighth Legion’s Shadow

The Eighth Legion assembled in a hangar large enough to swallow a city square. Every polished black breastplate reflected the red standards of the Sovereign Empire.

Colonel David Corvin presented the officers. He spoke with the confidence of a man who had practiced each sentence until the syllables marched in formation.

He's rehearsed that introduction fourteen times, Goblin observed.

You cannot know that, Lilith replied silently.

His adjutant is mouthing the words. Also, he keeps looking at the same spot on the floor. Fourteen, minimum.

“General Thragg,” Corvin said, “the Eighth stands ready for your command.”

Lilith inspected the first rank. No soldier looked away. Some stared with reverence, others with a soldier's practical curiosity about whether their new commander would get them killed.

“Your oath belongs to the Queen Mother,” Lilith said. “My duty is to make you worthy of it, and to bring as many of you home as the mission allows.”

Well, shit. That's better than 'die gloriously,' Goblin admitted.

At the tactical table, Corvin proposed a frontal assault on a fortified Republic position at Argentum. The defenders had placed their artillery where any direct advance would cross an open industrial plain.

He wants to win a medal by turning the first wave into scrap, Goblin said.

Lilith studied the map. “No frontal advance. We will cut their supply corridor, disable their artillery relays, and offer surrender before the final push.”

Corvin's expression tightened. “General, the Republic may refuse.”

“Then we fight,” Lilith said. “But we will not spend lives to spare ourselves the inconvenience of planning.”

There she is, Goblin whispered. A terrifying woman with a functioning brain. It's going to confuse the hell out of them.

The officers departed with new orders. Lilith watched them go.

You could have let me speak, Goblin complained.

You would have insulted the colonel.

Only because I respect him enough to be specific.

Chapter 3 — The General’s Quarters

Lilith reached Titus Quinn's quarters three minutes before the appointed briefing and pressed the door control without announcing herself.

“Come in,” Quinn called, a fraction too late.

He was in the kitchenette, barefoot, wearing loose trousers and holding a cup of something that smelled like burned machinery.

Oh, for fuck's sake, Goblin said. The man looks like a monument somebody taught to make coffee.

Lilith kept her gaze on his face. “The Queen Mother requests your assessment of the Argentum operation.”

Quinn took a sip. “Morning to you too, Lilith.”

He said your name. Congratulations. Try not to illuminate the room with your hair.

A faint red thread lit among Lilith's black strands.

Too late.

Quinn set down his cup. “You've brought the tactical projections?”

“Yes.”

“And the rest of your mind?”

Lilith narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”

“You look like you're arguing with somebody who isn't here.”

Technically, he's right. Technically, I hate him.

“I am considering alternatives,” Lilith replied.

“Good. Keep doing that. A commander who stops considering alternatives starts writing condolence letters.”

He opened the projection. The Republic artillery emplacements appeared above the table. He examined her proposed supply-line interdiction, then nodded once.

“Better than a frontal charge.”

Lilith felt an unreasonable satisfaction. It is a sound plan, she told Goblin.

Yes, darling, and you only care because he said it with that ridiculous voice.

Quinn glanced up. “Something funny?”

“No, General.”

Liar.

“Next time,” Quinn said, “knock before entering.”

Lilith considered that. “The door was unlocked.”

“That's not the same thing.”

I like him, Goblin decided. He's got the courage to tell a Praetorian General she needs manners. Also, his coffee is a war crime.

Lilith left with the projections. She waited until the door shut behind her.

I do not require commentary on his appearance.

Then stop giving me so much material.

Chapter 4 — The Argentum Decision

The Republic guns at Argentum fell silent at 0417, not because the Eighth Legion had overrun them, but because their ammunition convoy had been intercepted twenty kilometers away.

Lilith watched the tactical display from an armored command post. The Republic Marines held their line. Her own soldiers waited under cover, alive and impatient.

Corvin is going to ask for permission to charge, Goblin predicted.

“General,” Corvin began, “with their artillery neutralized—”

Here it comes.

“—we could exploit the opening.”

Lilith folded her arms. “By charging?”

Corvin hesitated. “That was one option.”

He looks like somebody caught him stealing from his own lunch.

Lilith pointed to the map. “Their evacuation corridor remains open. Send the surrender terms again. Make certain the Republic commander knows we will allow their wounded to leave.”

The colonel departed. A minute later, a field medic appeared on the screen beside a cluster of casualties.

Don't you dare, Goblin said suddenly.

What?

There's a gunner asking whether that red cross is a targeting marker. Tell him no before his stupidity becomes everybody's problem.

Lilith opened the command channel. “All batteries, medical personnel and marked medical facilities are not targets. Confirm.”

Acknowledgments came back one by one.

I enjoy violence, Goblin said, but I prefer it directed at people who are trying to kill us. Call me old-fashioned.

The Republic commander refused surrender, but accepted a temporary corridor for evacuation. The battle resumed at dusk, shorter and less costly than Corvin's original plan.

Lilith stood among her exhausted officers afterward.

“You won without giving the enemy what he wanted,” Quinn told her over the secure channel.

There. He said something nice. Everybody remain calm.

Lilith looked at the casualty figures. “We still lost soldiers.”

“Yes,” Quinn said. “Command doesn't come with a version where nobody dies.”

He isn't wrong, Goblin said, so quietly that Lilith almost missed it.

Lilith closed the report. For once, neither voice had anything sarcastic to add.

Chapter 5 — The Queen’s Silent Audience

The Queen Mother received Lilith without a court, without guards at the door, and without the elaborate ceremony that made lesser officials feel important.

“You've been quieter than usual,” the Queen observed.

She's talking to you. I haven't been quiet a single second since we were assembled.

Lilith knelt. “I have questions, Mother.”

“Then ask them.”

“Why was I made with another voice?”

The Queen did not answer immediately. She crossed to the window, where the capital's lights glittered beneath a black sky.

“Because I would not make a daughter who could never be contradicted,” she said at last. “Power without resistance becomes certainty. Certainty without judgment becomes ruin.”

Oh, I like that, Goblin said. Put it on a wall. Preferably Corvin's wall.

“Is Goblin a defect?” Lilith asked.

“No.” The Queen turned. “She is difficult. That is not the same thing.”

Tell her I am charming.

“She believes herself charming,” Lilith reported.

The Queen laughed—a sound so rare that Lilith looked up in surprise.

“Then she has already taught you to deliver a joke.”

Lilith's chest felt strangely light. “I will never turn against you, Mother.”

“I know.” The Queen held out her hand and helped her rise. “You need not prove loyalty by refusing to become a person.”

Well, Goblin said after a long silence, that's inconvenient. I was planning a whole speech about how nobody understands us.

Lilith took her mother's hand. “Thank you.”

For the record, Goblin added, I still reserve the right to call your advisers idiots.

You may think it, Lilith replied.

Progress. Beautiful, terrible progress.

Chapter 6 — A Cardinal’s Bad Afternoon

Cardinal Devon Richelieu approached Lilith at the Gala of Iron with the expression of a man who had decided to disapprove of something before finding out what it was.

His crimson vestments moved silently over the marble. His bald head caught the chandelier light.

Good Lord, Goblin murmured. He looks like a furious thumb in ceremonial curtains.

Lilith did not smile.

“General Thragg,” Richelieu said, “the reports from Argentum are troubling.”

“The Republic position was taken,” Lilith replied. “The Eighth Legion fulfilled its orders.”

“I refer to your hesitation.”

He refers to the fact that nobody died fast enough to suit his imagination.

Lilith clasped her hands behind her back. “I delayed the assault to prevent unnecessary Imperial casualties.”

“Mercy can be mistaken for weakness.”

“Then those making that mistake should study the final outcome.”

The cardinal's eyes narrowed. “You speak boldly.”

And you speak like a sermon escaped from its cage.

Lilith inclined her head. “I speak as the Queen Mother's Praetorian. I am accountable for my command. If Her Majesty wishes an explanation, I will give it directly.”

Richelieu looked toward the throne dais. The Queen Mother was speaking with another official, but her gaze briefly met Lilith's.

“I see,” he said. “Then I shall await her judgment.”

“Of course, Cardinal.”

He moved away.

You didn't even threaten him, Goblin complained.

It was unnecessary.

Yes, yes. Elegant restraint. I hate how effective it is.

Across the hall, Quinn raised his glass a fraction. Lilith's hair answered with one thin red line.

And there goes the lighting system again, Goblin said.

Chapter 7 — The Private War

Lilith had survived an orbital bombardment, a breach of a fortified gate, and three days without sleep. She was losing a confrontation with a mirror.

“You will not speak during the inspection,” she told her reflection.

Define speak.

“No comments. No insults. No observations about the officers' faces.”

Can I think the observations?

“You can think whatever you like.”

Excellent. That's the entire arrangement, then.

Lilith tightened a fastening on her black armor. The red-lit seams glowed steadily. In the mirror, her hair lay perfectly dark.

You keep checking the hair, Goblin noted.

“It is part of the uniform.”

Of course. And Quinn is part of the weather. Nothing to see here.

Lilith turned away. “I do not know what you expect me to do about him.”

Neither do I. That's why it's interesting.

She paused. “You are inside every thought I have.”

Tragic, isn't it? Imagine how I feel.

“Then you know that I do not intend to make a spectacle of myself.”

Lilith, darling, you command a Legion. You walk into a room and people stand straighter. The spectacle happened before breakfast.

For a moment Lilith considered ordering Goblin to silence. The impulse faded. She remembered the Queen Mother's words: difficult was not defective.

“Tell me something useful,” she said.

You don't have to stop being formidable to let somebody know you like him.

Lilith stared into the mirror.

There, Goblin said. One useful thing. Don't get used to it.

Chapter 8 — The Trouble with Silence

During a long transit, Lilith tried an experiment. She ordered a quiet cabin, shut off the tactical feeds, and sat without speaking.

I can do silence, Goblin said.

Then do it.

Five seconds passed.

This is awful.

Lilith ignored her.

Did you know the navigator hums when he's nervous? Not aloud. Just his jaw. Like he's chewing invisible music.

Goblin.

And Corvin keeps a photograph in his desk. Family, I think. He looks at it before every deployment.

Lilith opened her eyes. “You notice things I miss.”

Somebody has to. You're busy looking like the last word in military discipline.

“Why do you never stop talking?”

Goblin was quiet long enough that Lilith wondered whether she had finally offended her.

Because when you don't answer, I don't know whether I'm still here.

The words were stripped of sarcasm. Lilith felt them as distinctly as she felt the deck beneath her boots.

“You are here,” she said.

Well. That's embarrassingly sincere.

“And you are not alone.”

Now you're making it worse.

Lilith leaned back in the chair. “You may continue your observations.”

Permission granted to be insufferable. At last, formal recognition of my talents.

Lilith closed her eyes again. This time the silence that followed was companionable, and when Goblin eventually commented on the navigator's jaw, Lilith nearly laughed.

Chapter 9 — The Xenos Signal

A Xenos transmission arrived without a greeting. It contained coordinates, a demand that the Eighth Legion withdraw, and a recording of a civilian evacuation route being deliberately concealed behind a military relay.

Corvin called it a trap. Lilith agreed it might be one.

They want us to choose between a clean shot and an ugly headline, Goblin said. Clever bastards.

The Queen Mother's orders were clear: disable the relay and deny the Xenos fleet a path into Imperial space. Lilith could fulfill them without firing blindly through the evacuation corridor.

“Deploy reconnaissance,” she ordered. “Verify the route. We will not allow their civilians to become our targeting solution.”

Good, Goblin said. I despise being manipulated. Especially by amateurs.

The reconnaissance report revealed a second transmitter buried under the ridge. The visible relay was bait.

“Redirect the strike,” Lilith ordered.

Corvin studied the new target. “That will take longer.”

“It will take exactly as long as required.”

The strike disabled the hidden transmitter. The Xenos fleet lost its corridor. No Imperial vessel was lost in the operation.

Later, Quinn reviewed the report. “You listened to the thing that bothered you.”

“I listened to an alternative assessment,” Lilith said.

An extremely brilliant alternative assessment, Goblin supplied.

Quinn nodded. “Keep doing that.”

Lilith looked out at the stars. You were right.

I know. I'm going to be unbearable about it for a week.

Chapter 10 — The Uninvited Adviser

The Eighth Legion's senior officers spent forty minutes arguing about whether to hold a ceremonial parade after the Xenos engagement.

Forty minutes, Goblin said. We could have invaded a moon in forty minutes.

Lilith sat at the head of the table. “The troops need rest. The parade can wait.”

A major suggested that public appearances improved morale.

So does sleeping, Goblin replied. Remarkable discovery. Somebody inform the scientists.

Lilith approved two days of recovery rotations and a short recognition ceremony for the units that had secured the evacuation corridor.

When the officers departed, she remained with the casualty list.

You're counting the ones who didn't come back again, Goblin said.

“Yes.”

I make jokes because if I look at the list too long, I start remembering their voices.

Lilith folded the report. “So do I.”

You never say that out loud.

“I am saying it now.”

There was a knock. Corvin entered and set a small stack of letters on the desk. “From the families, General. Some thanking us. Some asking questions I cannot answer.”

Lilith accepted them. “I will read every one.”

Corvin nodded and withdrew.

That's going to hurt, Goblin said.

“Yes.”

We should do it anyway.

Lilith opened the first letter. For once, she and Goblin were in complete agreement.

Chapter 11 — The Woman in the Reflection

The armor workshop had finished a new set of polished black plates for Lilith. The fit was immaculate, the red-lit seams precise, the insignia unmistakably Imperial.

You look magnificent, Goblin said.

Lilith blinked. “Was that a compliment?”

Don't make it weird.

She studied her reflection. “Do you see yourself when you look at me?”

Sometimes. Mostly I see a woman who thinks she's a weapon because it's easier than admitting she's frightened of being wanted.

Lilith's gaze sharpened. “I am not frightened.”

Then why do you rehearse what to say to Quinn and delete every version?

“That is tactical preparation.”

It's flirting with a staff meeting.

Lilith's laugh escaped before she could stop it. The workshop technician looked up from a console, startled.

“Is something wrong, General?”

“No,” Lilith said. “For once, something is exactly right.”

She returned to the mirror. “If you had a body of your own, what would you do?”

First? Eat something terrible. Second? Find out whether Quinn's coffee is actually as disgusting as it smells. Third? Tell you to stop standing in front of mirrors waiting for permission to be alive.

Lilith turned away. “You are intolerable.”

And yet here we are, together.

Chapter 12 — A Conversation with Quinn

Quinn found Lilith on the observation deck, watching the ship's lights disappear into the distance behind them.

“You've been avoiding me,” he said.

“I have been occupied.”

Oh, beautiful. The old 'I have a schedule' defense.

Quinn rested his hands on the railing. “I wasn't asking for a report.”

Lilith took a measured breath. “I find your presence distracting.”

There it is. Straight into the artillery barrage. No warning.

Quinn looked at her. “Am I supposed to apologize?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I wasn't planning to.”

A faint red line ran through Lilith's hair.

We're lighting up again, Goblin said. I hope the bridge doesn't mistake us for a distress beacon.

Quinn's expression softened. “You don't have to solve every feeling like a tactical problem.”

“I know how to solve tactical problems.”

“Then perhaps this is something you learn.”

Lilith considered the stars beyond the glass. “I have another voice in my head.”

Quinn did not laugh. “Does she treat you well?”

Excuse me? He asked about me? I retract one-third of the coffee insults.

“She is argumentative,” Lilith said. “Indecent. Occasionally perceptive.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“She is.” Lilith paused. “She is also my companion.”

Quinn nodded as though this were the simplest thing in the galaxy. “Then I'm glad you're not alone.”

Oh, Goblin said, almost inaudibly.

Lilith turned to him. “Would you stay a while?”

“I was hoping you'd ask.”

They stood together, saying very little. For once Goblin had no joke ready, and Lilith found she didn't need one.

Chapter 13 — The Distance Between Stars

Vespera IX — Xenos Confederacy occupied territory

The final transmission from Titus Quinn's covert landing force was brief: “Objective compromised. All personnel down. Do not—” Gunfire swallowed the remainder. Then the signal died.

Lilith Thragg heard the recording four times aboard the Eighth Legion flagship. Eleven had gone down: Quinn and ten soldiers. Ten transponders had gone dark. His remained, barely, beneath the crust of Vespera IX.

“The Ninth Legion is already moving to retrieve its Praetorian,” Colonel Corvin reported. “They'll reach the system in forty-one minutes.”

“His signal?”

“Active. Weak. The mines interfere with our scans.”

“Plot a jump.”

Corvin straightened. “General, we're assigned to the Caldris withdrawal. We have no orders to divert to Vespera IX.”

Lilith turned. He saw her expression and looked again at the fading point on the display.

“But,” Corvin continued, “I expect we'll get there before the Ninth.”

“Good answer, Colonel.”

I like him, Goblin said. He knows when an argument is over.

The Eighth jumped.

Seventeen minutes later, Vespera IX filled the forward windows. Deep scanners found Quinn's transponder almost three kilometers below Mining Complex Seventeen. Corvin ordered assault shuttles and drop pods prepared. Lilith asked how long the first shuttle would take.

“Eleven minutes from launch.”

She was already leaving.

“General?”

“Bring the Legion down. I'll meet you there.”

In a maintenance launch chamber, Lilith climbed into an electromagnetic cargo accelerator and entered the mine's coordinates.

No, Goblin said.

We have to reach him.

Yes, with a shuttle. A shuttle is a useful invention. It has a hull. Heat shielding. Doors. This thing throws cargo into space.

Lilith fired the accelerator.

For four seconds the descent was silent and beautiful. Then she hit the atmosphere and became a streak of burning metal.

Warnings filled her vision: armor failure, overheating actuators, loss of maneuvering surfaces. Plasma crawled over her shoulders. A section of her outer plating peeled away.

First, Goblin said, you didn't wait for our fucking Legion. Second, we're falling through an atmosphere. Third, and this feels important, YOU ARE NOT A FUCKING SPACECRAFT.

I know.

Then why are we on fire?

Lilith deployed every functioning thruster. She hit a mountainside, tore through stone, crossed a ravine in a shower of sparks, and stopped inside a smoking crater.

For a moment neither woman spoke.

Well, Goblin said at last. That was a profoundly stupid thing to survive.

Lilith climbed out, scorched and shedding fragments of armor. Her scanners reacquired Quinn's signal eight kilometers away. She ran.

A Xenos patrol challenged her. She broke through it without slowing. The next position was reinforced with Dog Soldiers, the Confederacy's monstrous shock troops. They attacked together. She crushed their weapons, smashed through their armor, and kept moving. More soldiers converged around the mining complex. Heavy guns traversed toward her.

We don't have time, Lilith thought.

Are you asking? Goblin replied.

Yes.

Say please.

Please, Goblin.

Oh, I am going to remember that forever.

Lilith yielded control. Black metallic tendrils unfolded from her back, branching and hardening into independent striking limbs. Goblin took the body forward. She ripped the cannon from its mount, swept through the Dog Soldiers, and cleared the shaft entrance amid falling debris.

Stop enjoying yourself, Lilith warned.

I'm clearing the fucking driveway.

They descended into the mine, arresting their fall against the shaft walls. At the bottom lay the ten dead members of Quinn's insertion team. Thirteen Dog Soldiers lay dead around an industrial support frame. Quinn was impaled on a thick metal pole, pinned through the torso, his armor drenched in blood.

“Quinn.” Lilith knelt beside him. “Quinn, look at me.”

His eyes moved. “Hello.”

Her diagnostics estimated less than half an hour before his remaining organ functions failed. Removing the pole would release the pressure holding back catastrophic bleeding.

Replace it with us, Lilith decided.

That means direct contact with his bloodstream, Goblin said. Our systems aren't built for that.

Then they'll have to learn.

Lilith pulled the pole free and drove narrow tendrils into the wounds, sealing torn vessels and stabilizing the damage. His blood entered her adaptive machinery. Warning after warning erupted: foreign genetic material, biological interface, unmodeled response. His DNA was now inside her system.

Most couples exchange rings, Goblin remarked. You two have decided to exchange internal fluids through a hole in his abdomen. Very intimate. Deeply revolting.

Lilith formed a protective cocoon around Quinn, supporting his spine, regulating pressure, and monitoring his heartbeat. She lifted the sealed shape into her arms like a child.

Movement rose from the lower galleries. More Confederacy soldiers were coming up the shaft. Lilith weighed fighting them against escaping past them.

A voice came from the cocoon.

“I don't mean to pry, ladies, but I really need to get out of here and into a med station.”

Both consciousnesses went silent.

Ladies? Goblin demanded.

He's delirious, Lilith thought.

“No,” Quinn whispered. “I'm talking to you, Lilith. And I'm talking to you, Goblin. Let's go. Please. I can't hold on much longer.”

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW?

I DON'T KNOW.

DID YOU TELL HIM?

NO.

“Run,” Quinn said.

She ran. Tendrils launched them up the shaft, past startled Xenos troops, through the surface opening and into gunfire. She could not blink: that capability belonged to the Ninth Legion, DRFW Marines, and Confederacy Dog Soldiers, not the Eighth. Quinn was too weak to blink himself. She would have to carry him to extraction.

Confederacy reinforcements formed a barricade between Lilith and the western landing zone. Then Imperial drop pods slammed into the ground behind them. The Eighth Legion emerged firing. Colonel Corvin stepped from the lead pod and pointed toward the landing zone.

“General! Medical extraction to the west. Move! We'll clear the path!”

The Eighth tore open a corridor. Lilith ran through it with Quinn's cocoon held against her chest.

At the landing zone, red flashes began to ignite across the field. The Ninth had arrived. Soldiers blinked into defensive positions, weapons ready. Colonel Cavil appeared directly in front of Lilith. He saw his father's face through the cocoon's opening and reached for him.

“Father!”

Lilith reacted before she thought. A sharpened tendril swept toward Cavil's throat. He blinked out an instant before it connected and reappeared ten meters away, rifle raised, its charging coils whining.

“General Thragg! Release him!”

The Ninth raised its rifles. Behind them the Eighth raised theirs. Colonel Corvin stepped into view, his weapon trained on Cavil.

“Lower your weapons,” Corvin said.

“She's holding my father,” Cavil answered.

“And you're aiming at my Praetorian.”

Two Imperial Legions stood one trigger pull from killing each other.

Inside the cocoon, Quinn stirred.

“Ladies,” he whispered. “It's all right. He's my son. Let him take me.”

Lilith's tendrils trembled. Slowly, she opened the cocoon. Cavil lowered his rifle, approached, and took Quinn into his arms.

“Thank you, General,” he said.

He blinked away with his father. The Ninth followed in bursts of red. Corvin lowered his weapon; the Eighth followed suit.

Lilith stood with empty arms and ruined armor.

He knew my name, Goblin said.

Yes.

He knew I was here. Not a malfunction. Not a voice. Me.

Lilith sat heavily on a broken cargo crate. Neither had an answer.

After a long silence, Goblin added, We did nearly decapitate his son.

Lilith covered her face.

That may complicate dinner invitations.

Despite everything, Lilith laughed. Then she looked toward the sky, where the Ninth was carrying Quinn to surgery, and waited for word that he would live.

Chapter 14 — I Owed You One

Eighteen months after Vespera IX — Carthax IV

The Eighth Legion was assaulting a Xenos Confederacy stronghold on Carthax IV. Titus Quinn and the Ninth were attached as reserve observers, authorized to intervene if the offensive collapsed. Lilith had intended to need neither.

Then a containment strike opened the radiation shielding around her internal power systems. Her shoulder assembly ruptured. Her right arm seized. Radiation streamed through the broken seams in her armor, and every step threatened to turn a localized failure into a fatal cascade.

We're leaking enough radiation to sterilize a city, Goblin said. You should probably stop walking toward the nice people.

Lilith fell beside a shattered wall. Her communications were jammed. Her leg actuators began to fail.

The air flashed red.

Quinn appeared beside her, took one look at the radiation warnings, and crouched.

“You came for me?” Lilith asked.

“Well, you came for me eighteen months ago,” he said. “Figured I owed you one.”

The answer wounded her more than she expected. “You were settling a debt.”

“Precisely.”

“Motherfucker.”

He winked. She realized he was enjoying himself.

“You don't think I'd leave my two ladies alone, do you?” he added.

Inside her mind, Goblin erupted. HE DID IT AGAIN. EIGHTEEN MONTHS WE'VE BEEN TELLING OURSELVES HE WAS DELIRIOUS.

Quinn gathered Lilith into his arms. “Argue with me after we stop you irradiating the planet.” He blinked them to the ship.

Medical teams isolated the leaking systems and replaced the worst of the damaged armor. When Lilith could stand, Colonel Corvin arrived with a report. The assault had succeeded. A DRFW covert operations intelligence team had been found hiding in a concealed observation station, recording the Imperial–Xenos engagement. All but its commanding intelligence officer had been killed during capture.

“Has the prisoner repented?” Quinn asked when he arrived with Colonel Cavil.

“No, General,” Corvin replied.

“Then why wasn't he excommunicated?”

“I considered it. But he's an intelligence officer. His recordings and orders may tell us what the Republic knows about both our forces. I thought you might want him questioned first.”

Quinn regarded him. “Good thinking, Colonel. I like your XO, Lilith. He shows initiative.”

The four went to the interrogation room: Quinn, Lilith, Corvin, and Cavil. The captive DRFW officer sat restrained at a table. He ignored Quinn's first questions and stared at Lilith instead.

“So you're the one,” he said. “We weren't certain you were real. They'll enjoy taking you apart to see how you work.”

Quinn leaned forward, both hands resting on the table.

“You might want to be choosing your words very, very carefully now.”

He paused.

“Very fucking carefully.”

The prisoner looked at him, then returned his gaze to Lilith.

“Does she bleed?”

Quinn drove his fist through the captive's head, twisted, tore free, and flung the remains from his hand. The restrained body collapsed. Corvin and Cavil stared. The interrogation—and whatever intelligence the officer carried—was over.

Holy shit, Goblin said. He killed that man for you.

Quinn rose and walked toward the door. As he passed Lilith he stopped.

“I didn't do it just for her. I did it for both of you.”

He left them in the room with a dead prisoner, unanswered questions, and the consequences of what he had done. Killing a restrained captive was not battlefield necessity, however protective his motive. Corvin would have to account for the death, and Quinn would have to answer for his choice.

Lilith found him later in a medical suite, sitting on an examination table while a surgical tray was prepared.

“I suppose you want to know how I knew,” Quinn said.

“Yes.”

He tapped the back of his neck. “A neural interface. The Queen Mother asked me to carry it as a failsafe, in case either of you became a danger to the other or lost control. It let me distinguish two separate consciousness signatures. It did not give me every private thought.”

Lilith's fine red strands glowed beneath her hairline and along the damaged seams of her armor.

“How long?”

“Before Vespera IX.”

“You knew all that time and said nothing?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought I was protecting you. I was wrong.”

Quinn touched the back of his neck again. “I'm having it removed. I don't need a device to tell me you're a person, Lilith. And Goblin is a person, too. She isn't a defect or an emergency procedure. She's her own consciousness. Neither of you should live under the threat of a secret override. I won't take part in suppressing her.”

Lilith stared. The strands glowed brighter.

“You could have told us. You let us spend eighteen fucking months wondering whether you'd been delirious.”

“I know.”

“You manipulative, arrogant—”

The chief medical officer entered. “General Quinn, we're ready.”

Quinn glanced at Lilith. “Could we continue this afterward? I have a quick surgery to take care of.”

“A quick surgery? You confess to carrying a secret fucking failsafe and now you want a quick surgery?”

“Yes.”

“You are going to have that thing removed. You are going to survive. And then you're going to answer every question I ask, you insufferable son of a bitch.”

Quinn nodded. “Fair.”

She left him with the doctor, still furious.

Forty-six minutes later she returned. The chief medical officer was disconnecting the monitors.

“Was the operation successful?” Lilith demanded.

The doctor looked at Quinn. Quinn nodded. “Tell her.”

“Yes, General Thragg. The interface has been completely removed.”

“Leave us alone,” she said. “I'm about to make him wish it hadn't been.”

The doctor departed.

Lilith's posture changed. Her shoulders lowered; her chin tilted, and the movements became sharper, almost theatrical. Goblin had taken full control of their shared body without announcing it.

“You absolute fucking bastard,” she began. “Eighteen months. Eighteen months you knew I was in here. You knew I was listening. You knew I was terrified that someone would decide I was a problem to be deleted, and you never once thought to say, 'Hello, Goblin. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the secret fucking monitoring device.'”

Quinn remained seated.

“We launched ourselves out of a spaceship, burned our armor to slag, killed our way through an army, crawled down a mine shaft, and stuck our own fucking tentacles into your abdomen to stop you dying. And you chose that moment to say 'Ladies' like we were attending a goddamned dinner party!”

Quinn's mouth twitched.

“Don't you dare smile. And then you let us wonder for a year and a half. Did you know? Did you guess? Would you tell the Queen? Would somebody come to erase me? You had the answer the whole time, you smug, deceitful, overconfident bastard.”

“You're right,” Quinn said.

Goblin stopped. She had expected an argument.

“I should have told you. I'm sorry.”

“Don't think you can get away with being reasonable now. I have at least another five minutes of insults ready.”

“An impressive reserve.”

“And you killed a prisoner who might have had intelligence we needed. You think that makes everything better? It doesn't. You don't get to decide who lives because somebody insulted us.”

“I know,” Quinn said quietly. “I'll answer for it.”

She looked at him, briefly wrong-footed again.

Then Quinn said, “Goblin, I didn't know you could take over her body and speak through her voice.”

Her mind lurched. The link is gone. How the fuck does he know it's me?

Quinn smiled. “You're not Lilith. Your posture changes. Your cadence changes. You use your hands differently. And she doesn't normally manage that much profanity in five minutes.”

He rose. “I have things to take care of, Gobby. Tell me when Lilith wants to talk.”

Goblin went still. “What the fuck did you call me?”

“Gobby. I like it. Cute nickname.”

“Don't you ever fucking call me Gobby again.”

“All right,” he said. “I won't.”

She narrowed her eyes. He reached the doorway, turned, and winked.

“Unless I want to.”

Then he left.

For a moment neither consciousness spoke.

I'm going to kill him, Goblin said at last.

Lilith laughed. You like him.

Fuck off.

But Goblin looked at the empty doorway and understood something she had never dared to expect. Without the link, without the Queen's failsafe, Quinn could still recognize her. He knew her as herself.

Chapter 15 — The Eighth Stands

The Eighth Legion's annual oath ceremony took place beneath a field of red standards. Lilith stood before thousands of soldiers in glossy black armor, her own cloak still in the hangar wind.

You practiced the speech, Goblin said.

Of course.

Every word?

Every word.

Then I'm going to make a prediction: you'll abandon it halfway through.

Lilith began with the prepared history of the Legion. She spoke of duty, victories, and the Queen Mother's trust. Then she looked at the soldiers before her and remembered the letters, the wounded, the officers who had waited for her decisions.

She lowered the prepared notes.

Called it.

“We serve the Queen Mother,” Lilith said, “and we serve one another. Loyalty is not an excuse to stop thinking. Courage is not a demand to die foolishly. We will be fierce when battle requires it, disciplined when anger tempts us, and worthy of the lives entrusted to our command.”

The soldiers stood silent. Then the Eighth answered with a single thunderous salute.

Well, Goblin said, that was disgustingly moving. I'm going to need several minutes to recover my reputation.

Corvin approached after the ceremony. “An extraordinary address, General.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

Tell him he can stop rehearsing his compliments, Goblin whispered.

Lilith almost smiled. “And thank you for your service, Colonel.”

He saluted and withdrew.

Look at that, Goblin said. You managed to be gracious and didn't even explode.

Chapter 16 — Two Voices, One Oath

Lilith returned to the Forge of Shards alone. The instruments were dark now, the great dais quiet beneath the red emergency lights.

“This is where we began,” she said.

I remember. You were very dramatic. Four seconds old and already pledging eternal service.

“I meant every word.”

I know.

Lilith stood where the Queen Mother had first offered her a hand. She had arrived in the world convinced that purpose would be enough. She had learned that duty could coexist with doubt, affection, humor, and grief. None of those things diminished her loyalty.

“Are you still here?” she asked.

Unfortunately for both of us.

Lilith smiled. “You once said you would not leave me alone with solemn people.”

And I have fulfilled that promise with heroic dedication.

“Then I shall make one of my own. I will listen when you have something worth saying.”

That is an offensively low estimate of how often I have something worth saying.

“And when you have nothing worth saying, I will listen less.”

There she is. My beautiful, impossible tyrant.

A door opened behind them. The Queen Mother entered without ceremony. Lilith turned and bowed.

“Mother.”

The Queen studied her daughter for a long moment. “You seem happier.”

“I understand something I did not before.”

“And what is that?”

Lilith glanced at the silent Forge. “I was not made incomplete. I was made with company.”

Oh, bloody hell, Goblin muttered. Now you've made me sentimental.

The Queen Mother smiled. “Then you have learned what I hoped you would.”

Lilith knelt and renewed her oath, not as a machine following its first command but as a woman choosing the same loyalty with open eyes.

For the Queen, Goblin said, without a trace of mockery.

For the Queen, Lilith answered.

They rose together. Two voices. One oath.

THE END