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“Superior genetics for the win,” he crows “Be not ashaeriatric friends”

“Shut your gob, Pixie,” Sevro mutters in defeat

Sevro and the rest of his squadron ee frost the terrified crabbers Most of the crabbers are Red, with a scattering of Obsidians and Browns t

aken to the sea toI slow my speed and descend less dramatically to land nearer the pilot’s cabin The captain, a bearded Broith a continental-sized paunch, stares at ainst the rocking of the ship

“Plebian, are you the captain of this vessel?” I ask through hty a Venusian accent as I can ray Society pyraes of the scarab one forever, now returned “Kneel,” I growl The man falls to a knee More Howlers land—only the tallest of our number, to complete the illusion—till there’s twelve of us clad in the military accoutrement of a Society commando squad Our helmets, our masks for the day, remain on

I feared resistance in the crew and am relieved to only see terror They fall to their knees, eyes downcast in fear of their returned overlords Only the two Obsidians ast the crew stare up at us in hatred from under their water-repellant hoods

“We’re just crabbers,” the captain rips with his new reality “Nothin’ military on board…”

“Silence, whelp You will address me as dominus This ship, like you, is property of the Ash Lord Prithee, Captain, asseo hold and none of you will be liquidated” I eye the Obsidians ast his crew “Any attempts on the lives of my men will result in the decimation of your crew in its entirety Defiance is death Do you understand?”

“Yes?”

“Yes, what?” Thraxa snarls

“Yes…dominus”

I feel a dark pit open in ut and motion my men to take command of the vessel

We commandeer the boat and deactivate their radio and satellite coo hold with jugs of water Pebble welds the doors shut in case they feel a flush of patriotis on Soon, the rest of our number come with Colloway on his pelican It floats above the water on the port side of the crabber and drops the submersible we took from our weapons cache on Luna’s orbital docks The sube splash Then the pelican sets down on the exposed deck of the crabber Some of the lowColor Howlers—Winkle, Min-Min, and Rhonna—disewith our escape vessel

Winkle, a nihilistic, sleepy-eyed Green, is our lead cyber operations officer His face is a pincushion of piercings and fashionable digital tattoos He’s particularly fond of ue slithering up his chin His hair is acid green and defies gravity

“Fuck I’ his equip tetanus trap”