Chapter 1

The stars above the Eros Space Colony near Titan crackle like fireworks. The hull of the station explodes with gunfire. A group of five RAV, Robotic Attack Vehicles, swarm the ring-shaped station.

        “Don’t waste a single round on a warning shot,” Alphonse says over the radio. “These neutered dogs don’t deserve the air they breathe.”

The biggest and chunkiest of the RAV belongs to Alphonse. It doesn’t have a traditional head like most humanoid-types, instead it ends at the bulky tan-colored shoulders. The torso sticks out like an old wood stove and the legs are short and stubby.

Alphonse licks his front teeth. He’s anxious as the tongue glides across the one real and one fake tooth out front. Years of working as a hull inspector with the dregs of space colonies are rough. He was lucky to have all of his limbs, let alone most of his teeth.

His massive robotic suit fires another round at the civilian structure. The vacuum of space is silent, but he hears every shot like a rallying cry.

Landon’s seen that kind of RAV before. A suicide runner. Something he’s gotten used to dealing with while working this sector of space. The way the other four RAV units move makes it clear to him that they’re drones. The fire, pull back, switch spots, fire again. A dead giveaway.

        Landon pushes the button on his control panel. The video feeds for his mobile police wingmen pop up on the right and left monitors. The center stays dead on Alphonse as they approach the colony. Landon keeps his video feed off. He doesn’t want his teammates chastising him for not wearing a helmet again. He runs his hand through his damp dishwater blonde hair. He’s glad he’s there, but wishes he’d gotten there sooner.

        Another big explosion on the hull of Eros. Landon thinks about all of the engineers and their families scattering around inside like frightened mice.

        “Why aren’t they getting the hell out of there?” Marge says. Her image on Landon’s left is a little fuzzy. She needs to stop modifying her RAV before the whole thing doesn’t work.

        “Looks like they blew up the ports first,” Eric says. His bald head shines on the monitor so much that Landon could swear it was a car hood.

        Landon shifts his controls to max out the speed of his RAV. The ion engines shake the whole skeletal frame of the machine. If Eric’s right about all the ports that means that no one can get off the station. If the Armored Police can’t stop this terrorist cell there won’t be any survivors.

        Landon’s RAV pulled its assault rifle from the holster on its back. The Armored Police RAVs were fifteen meters tall, had the cockpits in the chest, and a white, silver, and navy blue color scheme that made them stand out in the inky black blue of space. The heads had a single visor-like camera with two fins going up either side like jackrabbits.

        Marge and Eric follow Landon’s lead, increasing their thrusters and pulling out their assault rifles.

        Landon feels the words fill his throat, but he doesn’t want to say them.

        “Shoot to kill,” he musters. “Wound and bring him in if you can… but you have permission.”

        The three RAV rocket toward the colony. Their ion drives mounted on their backs leaving bluish white streaks like shooting stars.

Alphonse unloads the last of his heavy rounds from the makeshift AK-47 he’s designed for his home brewed RAV. His long black hair falls in his eyes as he struggles with the stiff controls. He’s not the best pilot, but that’s why the People’s Liberation Front bought the drones.

        “The PLF won’t stand for the unified government between the Earth and the colonies!” he shouts over the radio. “The Colonial War only taught us one thing – anyone who rejects freedom rejects life!”

        Alphonse lowers his RAV to the observation deck. Civilians run from their lives from the congested shopping center. A group of kids is led by their first grade teacher away from a fountain carved to look like the solar system. Alphonse can see their matching blue and white school uniforms as he positions his titan-sized AK-47 at the reinforced glass.

        “Drop the weapon and disembark from your RAV,” Landon says.

        Alphonse keeps his gun trained on the colony’s observation deck. He can’t see any of the unified government scum, but he smiles at the thought of taking some of them with him.

Landon talks into his radio again. He doesn’t need to look up the specs to Eros to know that there’s a shopping center under that glass. He walked a small mobile battalion beat on that colony during the war. At this time of day there’d be thousands of people inside shopping, but just one volley of shells would send the whole district flying out into the icy cold vacuum.

        “I’ll only say it one more time,” Landon says, “lower your weapon and abandon your RAV.”

        Landon’s RAV is at its top speed now. It’s out of radar range, but not for long. The mobile police’s radar jamming tech only works at short range when they’re not moving. And Landon is moving as fast as his thrusters will take him.

        “You’re just giving me what I want,” Alphonse says, “an audience.”

        “Put on a goddamn puppet show if you want an audience.” Landon can’t stand the dramatic type. He’d seen too many showboating pilots bite the stars during sorties in RAV. He sure as well wasn’t going to watch one take innocent people with him.

        Alphonse’s RAV was only one hundred meters away.

        “What the hell are you going to do to me?” Alphonse says. “I’ve got four top-of-the-line Strike Drones backing me up.”

        Eighty-five meters.

        “And I’ve got over a ton of customized RAV ready to smear you against that hull.”

        Sixty meters.

        “You wouldn’t dare,” Alphonse says. His voice is less confident than before.”

        Forty-two meters.

        “Drop the weapon or I drop you,” Landon says.

        Eighteen meters.

        “I’m gonna kill every last unionized dog on this god forsaken--“

        Zero meters.