<Linking the squad now. Deployed nanobots coming on line.> Chandra rarely spoke. Instead, the comms officer nodded as Command fed tactical information directly to her neurological implant. A portion of her brain stem had been removed to make room for it. Most of her skull and cheek had been removed and covered with bioplastic. Most of the right side of her face dedicated to the needs of the Maya-enabled implant. A living radio with so much information to sift through, she lived on standby. Her undistracted brain space monitored live feeds. She was a living sacrifice for the ideal Muungano represented. Though a fine officer who never complained, it didn’t make it any less fucked up.

Fela couldn’t feel the microscopic scrabble of the tiny machines, though her mind itched at the thought. Joining the HOVA Hellfighters regiment had already cost her so much. The genetic rewiring and augmentation, with extra mitochondria hybridized into her cellular structure. The attenuation of her DNA to enhance intelligence, healing, and longevity (even more so than the average Muungano member). Making her both more and less human, though she wondered where the line was. All for the sake of her community. The only thing an individual of Muungano truly owned was their name and their own genotype, once it had been thoroughly groomed and approved by their parents. But as joining the HOVA demonstrated, even one’s genome was subject to the needs of the community.

Her bodysuit linked the nanobots, creating a near-iridescent quality to her suit upon them coming on line before they settled into a matte of black. Her squad soon appeared as icons along her visor. The HOVA Hellfighters regiment, specialized urban infantry, were much more comfortable on the ground than in the air.

“All right, Chandra, what do we have?” Fela asked.

With frantic waves of Chandra’s hands, a holoimage popped up, first displaying the entire Anansi Star System until it focused on Eshu. Their coordinates lit up.

“Yes, okay. Ready to receive.” Fela hated the way transmitted orders seemed like the R was right in her head. The R assigned her to the HOVA Hellfighters regiment personally. He wanted boots on the ground of the planet designated Eshu and the squad firmly embedded before transmitting his final orders. Though never having led one, she’d served on these sorts of operations before. This level of secrecy meant the squad was only in for one of “those” missions: the heavy-casualty kind. “Prepare to launch a communication buoy.”

“What are our orders, Commander?” Epyc Ro asked. Challenged may have been the more appropriate verb. The way she dripped sarcasm on the word commander burned in Fela’s ears.