The Exiled Earthborn by Paul Tassi

the place.”
    “He’s got a point,” Tannon said gruffly. “If there’s one thing the Fourth Order is, it’s jumpy. They’ve got more aircraft detection in Rhylos than ever after our last string of operations there.”
    “You are forgetting another gift you have been given,” Alpha replied. “There is a ship in a bay a mile underneath us that would allow immediate and undetected access to anywhere on your planet.”
    Omicron’s flagship stealth cruiser. Lucas had forgotten. It had the same cloaking abilities as the vessel the Fourth Order had used. But it was presumably much bigger, and much faster.
    “Absolutely,” Lucas said, energized by Alpha’s plan. “Keep your money, let’s just kill them all.”
    Maston was silent. He stared into the light of the holotable. Finally he spoke.
    “For Corinthia,” he said solemnly. “Put me on this infernal ship and Tulwar will be dead by dawn.”
    Tannon pushed back from the table.
    “I’ll talk to the High Chancellor. You,” he said, pointing at Alpha, “start building that tracking device.”
    “At once,” Alpha said. “But I need to be aboard my ship.”
    “And I need access to a few things as well,” Lucas said.
    Soon they were deeper inside the palace, down many levels past the dimly lit war room. Mars Maston had gone to assemble his Guardian squadron, which had been assigned to the mission at hand, and the group had dwindled to only Lucas, Alpha, and the admiral.
    When the doors opened, Lucas saw a sight he hadn’t witnessed since back on Earth: the exterior of their savior ship, the Ark. The transport looked worse for wear after their frenzied firefight with Commander Omicron’s troops, and much of the internal tech had been ripped out when the ship depressurized in the battle’s final moments.
    The entrance ramp descended and Alpha walked into the light, promising that there was enough material onboard to craft the tracking device he needed. Tannon then led Lucas to an offshoot room. Two Soran symbols were imprinted above the opaque door. E ARTH A RCHIVE .
    Inside, Lucas was told he’d find what he was looking for. As he entered, he had the distinct impression he was inside the most significant museum on Sora, though one not open to the public.
    Everything they’d taken from Earth and kept aboard the Ark was on display here. There was Lucas’s desk, looted from the Scandinavian mansion. Asha’s worn black tank top hung stretched out behind thick glass, a few dozen other pieces of clothing next to it, including his own. In another row lay books in secure containers on top of pillars rising from the floor. Approaching one, Lucas saw it was The Picture of Dorian Gray , every single one of its pages translated into Soran in a holographic screen below it.
    Lucas turned a corner and entered a new section, one more relevant to his needs. A large display spanned the entire length of the wall, and this time the transparent energy field securing it promised to liquefy anyone who attempted to cross it. Mounted every few feet was a new gun labeled E ARTH W EAPON along with a string of identifying numbers. There was his old boot pistol, shining more brightly than it ever had when he’d used it. A cannibal’s assault rifle, wiped free of blood and dirt. Standing vertically was an RPG that never ended up being fired in combat. As he reached the end, past two dozen weapons, he found what he was looking for.
    “Open it,” he said coolly.
    A small man in a blue lab coat glanced nervously at Tannon, but the admiral nodded his approval. The energy field dispersed, and Lucas took his old friend into his hands. Natalie had been polished to an almost mirror shine, though the letters etched into its stock still remained. As Lucas turned it on, he could see that Alpha’s technological hybrid appeared to be as fully operational as the day it was confiscated from him. The scientist next to him looked terrified as Lucas cycled through the modes from full-auto, to