"What’s happening?"

  "What’s going on?"

  "What’s happening?"

  "What’s going on?"

  The words hammered in my skull like nails. Then a soft voice cut through the storm.

  "Jericho?"

  "Jericho?"

  "Jericho?"

  I knew that voice. Sweet. Worried. The only thing anchoring me.

  "Gina?"

  My eyes cracked open. Dim med bay lights. Monitors beeping. Gina leaning over me, face pale, eyes red-rimmed from worry.

  "You're in med bay," she whispered. "Easy. You're safe."

  "Safe?" I rasped. "The ship—St. Francis—Jerry—"

  I bolted upright. Pain exploded in my head. Gina caught me, arms tight around my shoulders, holding me like I'd break if she let go.

  "It wasn't a nightmare," I choked. "They blew it up. They—"

  "Shh," she murmured. "I know. I saw it too."

  From the shadows on the other side of the bed, a calm voice.

  "Are you okay, little brother?"

  Jerry.

  Standing there like nothing happened. Uniform crisp. Face unreadable.

  I scrambled off the bed, rage surging. But even with one arm, he caught me mid-stride—tackled me back with gentle but iron strength.

  "Chill, lil bro," he said, voice low. "All your questions will be answered."

  He let go slowly. Turned to Gina.

  "Lieutenant, escort him to the bridge when he's ready. Marcus wants to talk."

  I twisted free, staring at Gina. "Do you know about all of this?"

  She hugged me again—fierce, grounding.

  "Don't worry. You'll know soon. Marcus wants to tell you everything himself."

  "He also said he needs the help of the Dead Men."

  "Help? What help?"

  Gina handed me a water bottle. "Drink. Let's go to the bridge."

  I gulped it down—throat burning, hands shaking.

  Gina walked to the door, looked back.

  "Come on. You want answers? So do I."

  The halls felt wrong. Familiar layout, but newer. Shinier. Cleaner. No rust. No scars. Like the ship had been reborn.

  We passed the mess hall. My crew—all 300. Laughing. Eating. Playing cards. Alive.

  They saw me. Froze.

  "Ten-hut!"

  They stood. Snappy.

  "Present arms!"

  Gina smiled beside me. "What now, cap'n?"

  I saluted back. My hand shook.

  "At ease."

  They dropped their hands. Came to me—pats, grins, quiet "good to see you, boss."

  Happy.

  It made everything hurt more.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  We reached the bridge. Doors hissed open.

  Same stations. But too clean. Too perfect.

  Harvey sat at engineering, clipping his nails.

  Turned. Waved casually.

  "Oh hey, boss! Thank God you've woken up."

  His smile was grim. He didn't even think what he had done.

  I turned to the captain's station.

  Jerry—calm, relaxed, now wearing his old Imperial Navy admiral's coat. The uniform I thought he'd torn off forever.

  Beside him—hair pulled back, posture straight—Marcus.

  Sitting in his grimy black wheelchair. Grin on his face. Surrounded by bodyguards in decent suits.

  My instinct took over. I lunged—even though I knew I couldn't even touch the footrest of his chair.

  His bodyguard—trained, fast—caught me mid-air. Slammed me down, knee in my back, kneeling.

  Gina moved—attacked the guard. But Jerry caught her in a quick move, one arm locking hers behind her back.

  Gina muttered, surprised. Before she could react, she was pushed to another guard.

  "Relax, you two," Jerry shouted. "Do you have no respect for Prince Marcus?"

  "It's okay, Admiral," Marcus said, rolling closer.

  "Anger and excitement make you do idiotic things. Am I right, Cho?"

  "You son of a bitch. You bastard," I said, voice low, deadly calm but boiling underneath.

  "Respect, huh?" I continued. "I have no respect for scum like you, you paralyzed piece of dogshit."

  "No, no, Cho," Marcus said, grin widening. "Let's not get to the insulting part now. You always knew I'm sensitive."

  He rolled closer, eyes gleaming.

  "I could kill you and all your crew—including this pretty bobette of yours—right now."

  He gestured lazily at Gina.

  "If you want me gone, then just kill me. Just me. Don't include my crew… and Gina," I begged, pathetic.

  "Jericho, no," Gina whispered, held down.

  "Hmmm. Ain't that sweet," Marcus said cynically.

  "But even if I wanted to… I can't."

  "What? Why?" Gina asked, shocked.

  Marcus turned to her, ordered his guard to let her go.

  "Well, Lieutenant, your boyfriend here is the best tactical soldier I know. He can get inside a locked box, set a bomb, and leave without a scratch. He's too useful just to die. I want him to do some things for me."

  I smirked, bitter. "Hahaha—you piece of shit. Why would I follow you, you dumb fuck?"

  Jerry stepped near me. Slapped me across the face—not a simple slap. The same slap he used to discipline me when we were kids.

  "Shut up, Jericho."

  "No, you shut up, you traitor!" I shouted.

  "Hmmm. You don't understand, do you?" Jerry said calmly. "Just relax, little bro."

  "What? After you let the ship blow up to smithereens, you're just gonna say that?" Gina asked, frustrated.

  "Let me take care of this, Admiral," Marcus interrupted. "There's too much emotion swirling in the air."

  He rolled closer to me.

  "Now listen, Cho. The Empire boosted the bounty against you—so high that every lost rebel force and rogue mercenaries will water their mouths with excitement. I don't want them to get to you first."

  I laughed. "So you want the money? You greedy non-walking shit."

  "What? No. Hahaha. Actually, it's the other way around. You see, I already spent so much money on you—your supplies, your techs. Those are from us, Cho. FYI. The Foundation. I just can't let you die because of that. That's why I kindly asked the Admiral to… well… attack you and blow your ship to kingdom come. Harvey did a great job installing the bomb you thought was new tech."

  "What?" I choked.

  Jerry stepped in. "You know, lil bro, we have to make sacrifices… to survive. And that would be the rusty old bucket—the St. Francis. It also insured our cover from the bounty hunters. And besides, Sir Marcus has an offer for you. For us."

  "What offer?" I asked deliberately.

  Marcus rolled his wheelchair near me, leaned forward, wide grin.

  "An offer you will be unable to refuse."

  He straightened his back, turned his wheelchair, and rolled to the viewing window.

  "Now, Cho… I'll give the Dead Men Corps a mission."

  A quick silence filled the bridge.

  "What mission?" Gina asked politely.

  "Thank you for that question, Lieutenant," Marcus said proudly. "Now listen up. A prisoner—a Union elitist—was caught, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death by hanging tomorrow at the Union capital grounds at noon. I want you to rescue this prisoner."

  "The Union capital?" I exclaimed. "Are you crazy?

  You know how well fortified the capital is. No way we'll risk our lives for a prisoner."

  "But this prisoner, Cho, is one of the co-founders of the Foundation."

  "Co-founder? Faye?"

  "Aha! Yes, your ex," Marcus said with a sly look.

  "But… it's too risky. Too dangerous." I shook my head. I'd been there—back when I was with the Imperial Marines. Trauma grew inside me. Too scared. I refused.

  "No. I can't. I just can't."

  "I know, Cho," Marcus said calmly. "I was there."

  "And what if… we refuse?" I asked.

  Marcus smiled cynically, sarcastic tone dripping.

  "Well then, if that would be the case, Admiral Jeremiah Sanchez will surrender all of you to the Empire. The Admiral will get all the rewards and will be reinstated to his former post. And you lowly dogs will face death… by beheading."

  I swallowed hard, pride going down with it.

  Marcus rolled back in front of me.

  "And I will make sure that you'll be last, Cho—so you can watch the heads of your men roll down in front of you. Including Gina."

  Anger faded. Fear and anxiety rose. I had to say yes—even if it was suicide. If I said no, heads would roll.

  I gathered all my courage. Looked at Marcus. Smiled—cold.

  "Deal… but… what's our reward? We don't move without some spoils."

  Marcus broke into laughter. "That's the Jericho I know. Admiral, be a lad and tell your brother the spoils."

  Jerry came forward. Asked the guard to let me go. I stood. Gina quickly came near, grabbed my arm.

  Jerry dusted me off.

  "Prince Marcus will still provide all the supplies: advanced weaponries and defense… and this new ship, lil bro. The St. Francis' Revenge."

  I reluctanlty nodded. Walked toward Marcus.

  Now, I didn't feel like hitting him. It was just a good deal.

  In front of him, I looked into his eyes. Reached out my hand.

  Marcus smiled. Grabbed it.

  I tightened my grip. He tightened his.

  And for the third time, I made a deal with this devil again.