The shot had passed through the aperture.

Moments later, the Righteous Fury signalled her surrender.

And I was left in my chair, crushed by the realisation I had just killed a man.

Seventy-One: Ashton Childe

SEVENTY-ONE

ASHTON CHILDE

The next morning, I stood in the Trouble Dog’s shuttle bay, still encased in my exoskeleton, ready to say goodbye to Laura Petrushka. She stood before me, wobbling unsteadily on a pair of crutches.

“I guess this is goodbye, then,” she said.

She was leaving to rendezvous with the Outward vessel that had entered the system shortly after the outbreak of hostilities. It would take her home to report everything she’d done and seen here, so her government could start preparing its case for the prosecution of Annelida Deal.

And, so they could start preparing for the arrival of white ships around their planets.

The Marble Armada wasn’t content to simply enforce the peace in its own neighbourhood. In order to prevent another war, it had announced it would be stationing ships all across human space—a few to each system, to ensure conflicts were dealt with in a timely fashion, before they could escalate into anything more widespread. To what end, I neither knew nor cared. I had seen my share of violence, and it hadn’t provided the thrill I’d once imagined it might. A period of enforced peace sounded good to me, even if it was a peace derived from, and maintained by, the threat of an overwhelming alien force.

Saving Clay, though—that had been an achievement. After months of running guns in order to perpetuate a savage little war, I had finally done something worthwhile for another human being. Instead of providing implements of death, I had saved a life, and it filled me with more pride than anything I had done since arresting the corrupt cops on my old precinct. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to devote the remainder of my time—assuming the surgeons on Camrose could pry me from this skeletal contraption—to helping those in real need.

In short, I had become a convert, and the newest recruit to the House of Reclamation.

Laura gave me a quizzical look. “What’s so funny?”

I hadn’t realised I’d been smiling. I blinked at her. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking that it’s strange how things work out.”

Resting her elbows on her crutches, she took my hand in hers. Her thumb brushed my knuckle. “Your government wants you dead.”

I tried to look unconcerned. “At least that means we’re no longer on different sides.”

She gave me a disapproving look. “Just take care of yourself,” she said.

“I’ll do my best.”

“And maybe I’ll see you again sometime?”

I covered her hand with my own. “I’d like that.”