The Overlord hatchlings provided a nice target practice for the CreaseWing. The heatlaser took them out one by one.

  “That’s the last of them,” Tommy observed when the concentrated heat ray streamed on the hangry alien baby and after some resistance melted the otherwise sturdy armor.

  The CreaseWing flew by, its thrusters lit ready to circle back to our position. We slowed down our momentum gathering in one spot and waiting for the vessel to pick us up.

  It was a pretty little vessel, this one. I was familiar with the design, a standard model produced mostly in the galaxy’s second system. It had a long thin body embraced by voluminous wings and a wide tail, copying the image of an old Terran sky predator, the falcon.

  **Marines, this is Hellena, captain of the CreaseWing, prepare to embark.**

  “Copy that,” I replied pinging back the transmission and we stayed put. I sighed, but it came out more like a shudder, my whole body releasing the tension that kept my nerves on edge. "We made it," I said almost like a whisper.

  “I am exhausted,” Tommy confirmed my next thought. Next to him, Gardenia breathed heavily in the comms.

  “Damn it, I’m not made for this life. No, I'm not doing this ever again.” She complained moaning. “H-how can I make it out?” She asked in a trembling voice, clear even with the synthesizer blocking some of the emotion out of her words.

  Every one of us had different circumstances. I was still not sure exactly what forced Gardenia to join the ranks of the SFC, but she certainly had a long way to go before she was released from her duties. The contracts for those joining at will had quite lengthy periods of active service.

  And she hadn’t served long with the Marines or bonded deeply with our little private group, so I couldn't exactly be open with my plans, but I had decided to include her given the option. I just couldn’t tell her yet. My trust was in short supply after everything that happened.

  So I couldn’t reassure her crumbling faith that the first chance we got we would escape from this hellhole but I was still tempted to spill my heart's desires.

  The CreaseWing scooped to a stop soon thereafter and hovered above us. A latch unhooked and a hatch opened its squared mouth to us. We made our way upwards grabbing at the handles and climbing inside.

  The hatch was clearly not made for Genomes my size. My shoulders scraped at each side of the metallic opening.

  I was thankful all my injuries had healed during the chase out of the clouds, but as a byproduct, they also made me ravenous. The nanomite’s energy expenditure pulled all the spare glucose my body could offer. I might be soon sporting some jitters if I didn't stabilize my levels before long.

  I was planning to down a mealbar the moment our helmets were off. But first, we had to decompress. This was not a fancy SFC battleship with its atmospheric field protections.

  Ah.

  Then I felt the string’s tug behind me I was reminded that I was trailing some hazardous equipment.

  Yes, it would be better to store my little experimental bioweapons before the active field did lasting damage to the crew who obviously wouldn’t be wearing protective biosuits inside the ship.

  I twisted the casing array I built surrounding the metasphere, and it became inactive, and I did the same for Gardenia’s before I pocketed them both. My stack was depressingly small after the battle.

  Just in time, with the hatch closed the chamber we had entered decompressed, and the heavy door separating the rest of the ship opened inwards. A crewmember awaited on the other side, wearing a worn inconspicuous outfit with a blaster tied to his belt.

  From the wide-plastered smile on his face, below a beautifully trimmed mustache, I understood that the weapon was worn casually and in no way to intimidate us. We were among allies here but I had a knack for always being alert. I couldn’t help but notice these things.

  “Welcome to the CreaseWing, the three of you! I’m so glad we made it in time, we’ve been searching for so long and never found any…eh never mind that. Name’s Oly, I'm here to take you to the captain.” He said offering a hand.

  With my helmet off I walked forward and shook his hand. My palm dwarfed his by a large margin and I gave him credit, his smile never left his face even when faced with someone almost a meter taller than him.

  “Oly, you and your captain saved our asses back there. We are grateful, I’m Amon, and this is Tommy and Gardenia from the F567 company.” I said with an honest smile before a shadowy thought wiped it off. “I have a favor to ask. We have another Marine missing, a dear friend, he was with us but got separated during the chase. Can you inform the captain to help us look for him?” I asked with urgency.

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  Oly didn't even hesitate before nodding insistently. “Shit, another one out there? Of course! Follow me to the captain, quick.” He said before jolting at a sliding jog down the narrow corridor.

  That was a good lad. We followed after him in rushed awkward steps. The CreaseWing didn’t have full artificial gravity but the more commonly applied semigravitational floor panes, which only attracted a few centimeters worth of space above them.

  That meant a jump higher than the attraction field would propel me right to the ceiling. It was something to get used to. I suddenly wondered if the SFC vessel tech had spoiled us rotten.

  Fortunately, the distance was rather short, and our embarrassing display of spacewalking skill stopped shy of the entrance to the bridge. I quietly tacked away the wrapper of a Taste the Stars mealbar and waited for the sliding doors to give us access.

  Oly entered with a shout. “Captain! I brought them as you requested, but, we have one more of them left out there!” he said in a vibrating fit of energy.

  Hellena, captain of the CreaseWing turned to look at us and I paused because she was not exactly a Genome, but she displayed evidence of some gene-editing in her ancestry. Her ember eyes were vibrant, glowing slightly at the edges, a tell for badly made optics, or purposely made so for others to notice she wasn’t Lowtech.

  I leaned on the latter on this one. She must have climbed up the ranks from being born planetside to the captain of a spaceship, even a small one like the Falcon, still Spacenova's more often than not liked to show off their status.

  Her black curly hair was tied in a bun over her scalp, while the sides were shaved clean. She wore a tight leather outfit, that would be well at home in a bar, while the curved blade fixed on her hip told a different story.

  Instead of meeting her gaze, I sneaked a peak at the rest of the crew. There were five of them operating the bridge. All were gruff-looking men and women, dirtborn and poorbred. If I didn’t know any better I would be suspicious of being rescued by pirates.

  Yet I was reminded again how unique I was. There was not one first-generation Genome in sight among the crew. I hesitated to approach for fear of being considered a threat, towering over each one of them. These were people who had seen much suffering and they owed us nothing.

  “Captain, thank you for rescuing us,” Tommy said stepping from behind me after realizing my hesitation and going up to the Captain offering a military salute. “As your man says, we have our comrade missing. He must be someplace behind the puss clouds. Will you help us find him?”

  “Hmm, that…could be dangerous. Visibility near the puss is low, and these little beasts chasing you were ever eager to attack, but I think we can manage it with a bit of distance,” she said after some consideration. “Hey, Gif, take us for a round down that way,” she pointed with a hand out of the reinforced viewing window in the general direction from which we had initially appeared.

  Gif, the navigation officer sitting in front of a black and blue screen populated with myriads of control buttons, took a long puff of an old electric oil burner and planted a route with a finger. The eob’s scented smoke spread on his next exhale and before long entered my nostrils. It reminded me of the stench the Lowtech mechanical cargo haulers had when their clutch pedals overheated back in C3X1DF. A familiar smell from my childhood years spent around the workings of machinery.

  Such a memorable and at the same time repugnant odor. Despite the addictive sting, I inhaled the secondhand smoke and tasted burned engine oil at the tip of my tongue.

  “Argh Gif, you disgusting piece of dang, cut that out before I have you take a walk spacewise. This is a no-smoking flight for you until you nurture some quality and taste." The captain said growling, showcasing between two fingers an unlit thin cigar that she just took out of a pocket.

  "I can't believe I have crew smoking that filth! If you weren’t so good, you’d be out of my ship and looking for a job!” She yelled before turning back to us, “Now you lot, will you tell me what the hell you were doing so far out by yourselves?” she asked not exactly accusing but with some added caution in her voice.

  Tommy turned and gave me an arched eyebrow look that the captain didn’t fail to notice. We were at an interesting point here.

  Did we want to take credit for the assault on the Queen? Did we want the SFC’s eyes and ears turning our way, scrutinizing us until all our secrets were laid bare? Nope, I wanted none of that. The bred brutes could stay the hell out of my sight.

  “Captain if I may,” I interjected to stir us toward safer waters. “In the heat of battle, our company was set upon by multiple Overlords. We were forced to flee and hide at the edges of the puss, cut off from the rest of our company and any allied support. As the battle progressed and the fleet retreated we found ourselves drifting further and further away from the frontlines without any safe way to rally with the rest of the SFC forces. We are lucky you found us when you did or we would have become a decomposing Overlord meal by now,” I said standing at parade rest.

  “Mmm, so you say,” the captain rubbed her nails on her leather pants considering my words. She was giving me an 'interested' look that I was not so sure how to handle. “Let's find your friend first, you may stay on the bridge or go and rest at the crew’s quarters.”

  “Thank you, captain. I’ll stay if you allow it then,” I said and Tommy and Gardenia replied similarly. We were all anxious to spot our friend flying above the puss and rescue him with open arms.

  The CreaseWing was an agile ship eating at the distance with ease. We circled the viewing window looking out. The contrast between the darkness of open space and the puss clouds should help to spot Nik. I almost imagined his form waving at us to pick him up.

  “Why did this thing turn purple? It's unnerving!” One of the crew asked as we overtook a particularly tall cloud formation. I sensibly kept my mouth shut.

  …

  “Hey, isn’t that…? Wait, what is that exactly?” I heard the first officer ask Gif the navigator. I edged closer for a look at the screen.

  When the image on the scanner zoomed in a collective gasp left the crew's lips. Above the clouds, two Overlord hatchlings were stuck together, their tentacles tied in an embrace. Hugging.

  Hugging a body in a biosuit.

  “N-No…” I whispered as if a bit of my soul escaped my lips at the sight. My eyes were locked in place gazing over the protruding boots, the unmoving limbs, and the half-melted torso being licked by the hatchling’s tentacle hair.

  Gardenia sobbed. Tommy cursed. We lost another of our brothers today.

  “Captain, may I ask for another favor?” I said without a single tremble infecting my voice.

  “You may,” She replied in a sour mood.

  “Burn them. Burn them all.”

  —-

  Could you outlive everyone you know?

  This was not a question of ability, it was a question of will. I would put it plainly. Could you continue living your life leaving behind your loved ones, and everyone you ever cared about?

  I might have to. My lifespan was particularly long. The illegal DNA-mutating drugs my parents gave me when I was little had given me this, this curse. By the time I hit my early twenties, I stopped aging. Even the gene doctors didn’t know exactly when the time’s ever-lasting presence would once again ground me.

  It was the same for all Genomes that had dipped their toes on rejuvenation and cell decay, and we were so very few in the entirety of the universe having received its immortal effects. But the path we took was not one of happiness. What was once seen as a blessing has developed a new name, the everlasting curse of Turritopses dohrnii, the only species to ever play at immortality before us.

  I was not exactly sure how my parents imagined it but for all their scheming the only thing going for them was that I was still alive.

  If I ever died of natural causes, it was only because my will to live had crumbled to dust and at just thirty years old I already felt its persistence pulling me down.

  There was so much loss to swallow I was drowning.

  “Tommy?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “We have to do something,”

  “We do, and we will," he said to me as the starlights blurred.