“Yeah, yeah. I got you. Now put the nice one back on.”

  “The nice one?” Calliope’s third personality sounded almost offended.

  “He means me, sister,” the original Calliope informed her, before addressing the lieutenant. “What do you need?”

  “How about a fast burst of static into his head set, and a brief electrical jolt through the floor plate they’re kneeling on?” he asked.

  “Gotcha,” the Calliope agreed and two sharp shouts of pain followed.

  “Where’d that come from?” one of the mercs demanded.

  “Fan out!” came an order.

  “Well, that’s not good…” Carver noted.

  Astraya chuckled. “Sure it is. Now, be a good boy and give our tech your side arm. Mine’s gonna be busy.”

  “And who says mine isn’t?” the marine demanded, but he unclipped the holster flap and drew the blast-pistol he’d refused to give Peony before. “You know how to use one of these?”

  She gave him a sly smile, taking it and running through the safety and charge check with swift, sure movements.

  “Sure,” she said. “Pointy bit with a hole toward the bad guys, make sure the little light is green, and squeeeeeze, don’t pull.”

  She said this last with an intonation that gave her words a slightly different meaning and was rewarded when his jaw dropped.

  “There’s no need to be so mean about it,” he told her, and she chuckled.

  “Calliope, show me where.”

  The ship sent a brief flash of light along a guide strip, and she moved quickly and quietly after it.

  “Go get the bad guys,” she told the other two. “I’ve got the ship.”

  Carver looked like he was going to protest, but Astraya laid a hand on his thigh.

  “Let’s go, big boy,” she told him. “Or your captain’s going to have a piece of you for letting me out of your sight before he could keep his eyes on me.”

  “And I thought she was the mean one,” the marine grumbled, but he followed the agent when she headed out.

  Peony ignored them. Hoping they could not only deal with the invading mercs, but keep them contained while they did so, she hurried down the route the Calliope had given her, pulling the canister of nanites free of her suit in preparation.

  “Tell me you have another production point between here and when we need it next,” she said to the Calliope.

  “Not quite,” the ship admitted, “But I’ll have it meet you on the way, there.”

  The sound of blaster fire came from the observation deck.

  “And are we going to go grab the kids on the way back?” Peony asked, meaning the Odyssey agent and the marine.

  More weapons fire punctuated the question, followed by the sound of combat at closer quarters. A loud thud and clatter indicated someone might have been thrown into a wall.

  “Do you think we need to?” the Calliope asked.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Another thump followed, then an “Oh no, you don’t,” from Astraya, and a “Hey, that one was mine,” from Carver.

  “Get your own asshole to play with,” Astraya snapped back, and Peony shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “They sound like they’re having fun. Why spoil it for them?”

  “Besides,” Callie interrupted, “I need you to get your sweet ass down this elevator shaft and those nans into the command level. There’s a ruddy great hole in my motherfucking skin and I want it gone. You never know what’s going to come crawling in through it.”

  As if that should bother an AI…especially one not originally attached to the shell.

  What in the stars am I going to do with them, when this is over and done? she wondered, because she couldn’t for the life of her imagine what the colony would want with four homeless AIs…and there wasn’t a hope in Hades she was going to let them be deleted.

  Maybe they can pay off the space they’ve taken in the pods…or I can…

  The enormity of that kind of debt made her heart sink. It would take her at least three regen spans to pay them off…and that was assuming she had the kind of employment she had, now…which was unlikely given what she’d allowed the last AI under her care to do. It wouldn’t matter that she’d successfully shepherded two others before it.

  What company is going to risk that kind of thing happening, again? she worried. Even if the circumstances were exceptional…

  The enormity of it depressed her, even more, but she kept moving, making it down the shaft to the next level, even as she tried to think of what other skills she could try marketing. The truth was she was an AI interface specialist, and there were a lot of other specialists more qualified in the other skills she could offer.

  I’ll find something, she told herself, adding with a wry smile, Even if it’s just shoveling dirt in a colony greenhouse.

  “We’re here,” the Calliope told her, “And you’ve got a clean run to the tanks, just be…CAREFUL!”

  Peony had started moving briskly down the corridor, following the route the Calliope had dropped into her head, when a sudden blue light flared in front of her. The Calliope’s cry brought her up short, and she stepped back, then dove to the side as the light solidified into a large, heavily armored figure.

  It reached for her and she ducked under its hand, throwing herself forward and around a second figure, before dodging a third.

  “Stop!” a voice shouted. “You! With the canister. STOP!”

  It was nearly enough to make her stop, but Peony reached an intersection and dove around the corner, heavy footsteps thundering in her wake.

  “Calliope, plot me a—” Her order ended abruptly as a heavy figure slammed into her side and the canister went flying. “Hey!”

  She hit the floor with a bone-jarring thump, her head glancing off the decking. Part-stunned, she lay, momentarily unable to move—and completely pinned by the marine’s heavily armored frame.

  “Get…Off…” she mumbled, intending it to come out in sharp protest as she shoved him off, save that she seemed to be having difficulty connecting words, and her arms wouldn’t move.

  To her surprise, her attacker did lever himself off her, even though he kept one large hand spanning her neck and pressing her head to the floor.

  “Nasty bump you took,” he stated, as she tried to get a better look at him.

  “Ex…Exarch?” she asked, dreading the answer even as she doubted that was what she’d be hearing.

  “No,” the marine said, shifting his grip to include her shirt collar and hauling her to her feet. “Odyssey. Exarch don’t have our teleport capability or you’d have been in deeper shit when we arrived.”

  Another bulky figure jogged past him, retrieving the canister from where it had rolled.

  “Ship needs that,” Peony managed.

  “She does, hey?” The Marine looked at the nearest pick-up. “That true, girl? You need this?”

  He accepted the canister from the marine who’d retrieved it, holding it up. Peony followed the movement with her eyes and waited for the ship to respond.

  “It is needed,” the ship replied, adding tartly, “As is my technician, and I’d prefer her not harmed.”

  The marine’s head dipped sharply so he could take a look at Peony’s face. The visor went from opaque to clear, and she saw a strong face and worried blue eyes looking out at her.

  “Peony. Right?”

  Peony nodded, and felt a sudden roll of nausea. Swallowing hard, she answered. “Yes.”

  “Sorry about the tackle,” he managed. “I wasn’t sure.”

  His radio crackled, and he looked around at his team. “We’ve got hostiles in the command center,” he snapped, and let her go.

  His face vanished behind a reflective sheen, and he pressed the canister back into her hands.

  “Get this where it needs to go,” he ordered, “Then meet us on the command deck. I’ll send someone to escort you if you’re done sooner, but Exarch are trying for your AI.”

  He let her go, and started jogging back down the corridor.

  “Calliope?” Peony asked.

  “Just get the gel where it needs to go,” the ship told her grimly. “My sisters and I will deal with this.”

  She was gone, out of the implant and out of Peony’s head, straight after, leaving the tech liaison swaying unsteadily on her feet.