1. BOUNTY
Montgomery Reuben’s eyes cautiously panned across the bar as he sat. He grimaced; a thousand slits eyed him back. He ordered a straight Bourbon, tipped it down his throat, then ordered another, and did the same. Warm up. Then he ordered one of the house’s cocktails and nurtured it.
He had a price on his head, three-quarters of a million credits. At that price he was hardly game for another bounty hunter. Of course, after last night’s little escapade, that would change. He was set to become the galaxy’s number one wanted man. That meant fame, fortune, and a great deal of respect. The way Reuben had it figured, he’d be worth at least ten million. He sat wondering what to do now. Of course, it also meant a great deal of money. Enough to buy his good name back again.
Thick red hair obscured his thin, calculating green eyes.
The bar was the Outer Hope; classy little joint, the most hip place this side of absolute zero; stood on its own, over the ice. Outside, the ever-present blizzards raged, forever obscuring whatever was out there. The city was a few miles away, covered in its synthetic diamond dome. Some Dexians were caged up, filling in a cluttered background of sounds; music, dance, talk.
The air was thick with blue smoke. Reuben reached into a deep pocket in his shabby beige overcoat and pulled out an expensive Cuban cigar, one of his special ones from Earth. Savouring the smell, he bit the end off and proceeded to smoke it slowly, blowing rings over his cocktail.
After a while, his eyes found the bartender, who gradually made his way over.
“Ratz,” said Reuben, and almost smiled. He nudged the bartenders cybernetic left arm. “Finally got a new one, eh?”
Ratz glanced at Reuben as if he did not recognise him, his left eye a milky white compared to his piercing blue right. Ratz was bald and had skin like an old baseball glove. He only just had a moustache, which strangely accentuated the lobeless ears which instantly identified him as of Icanian heritage. “You pulled that stunt last night, Reuben. Heard a lot of people got blown over.”
Reuben sat back, a fringe surprised, his voice almost inaudible against a thousand others. “Me, Ratz?”
“Find a new sun, Reuben. Get out of the game.”
“What game, Ratz?” Asked, his voice perfectly acquiring the mood. His eyes narrowed even further.
“You’re half price. Keep in touch, Reuben,” Ratz lifted Reuben’s untouched cocktail from the bar and shuffled away.
Reuben knew the call. Ratz had overheard something; knew something like he always did. He had taken his drink, and that meant trouble was too close to even finish it. Without a word more, He stepped off his seat and found his way out, pulling his coat up around his ears against the roaring wind.
For a moment at the door he stared into a pair of feminine eyes, a beautiful woman of a race he’d never seen before. Her hair was pure white and flowed easily from above her face to near her slim waist. She wore a single-piece outfit of a blue that perfectly matched her eyes, and rather strangely, accentuated an almost invisible vertical dent cresting the centre of her forehead. Her lips were of a sensual deep blue, her black eyelashes contrasting vividly with her pale-white skin.
Reuben held the door open for this strange woman; she turned and seemed to see something in him, deep in his soul, but floated by on those perfect long legs.
In the safety of his infra-red resistant windbreaker he made his way off into the swirling white snow, listening to the distant sounds of engines and gunfire. Ratz, as always, had been right. Already the local leo’s or the merc’s were on him. He hit the deck, thinking ‘Shit! They’ve named five. I’m worth at least seven.’
For a moment the blizzard turned orange, and then billowed as the explosion’s shockwave hit. Reuben stayed buried in the relatively warm snow for an hour and a half. Only after windy silence had descended did he finger his transport.

2. ESCAPE
“They named five. I’m worth seven at a minimum.”
Reuben’s ship, an Andromeda E Class, plodded through the relative safety and comfort of space at a mere one hundred and fifty thousand miles per hour, too slow to even be a pinhead on the scanners. It was slow, but safe. The Andromeda E Class could go faster, much faster. It was one of the fastest ships around, and also one of the most expensive. It could even escape a black hole, or so it was said. They didn’t make them like this old baby any more. Reuben lazed at the controls. Inadvertently, he wondered who owned it.
“Five point three-two-five, to be more precise,” said the ship in her slight voice. “Named by the president of the Milieu, one hour and thirteen minutes after you destroyed the Milieu High Council building on Dexia. Report one thousand three hundred and seven killed, no known survivors.”
Reuben fingered his palm, smiled to himself. “Guess I did a good job then.”
“Do you wish me to notify the Milieu of our current location?” Andromeda asked politely.
“Fuck no. Under no circumstances do I want anybody, and I mean beside myself, anybody to know where we are or where we are going. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Montgomery.”
“Andromeda, honey, call me Reuben.”
“Yes, Reuben.” the Andromeda said.
“And Andromeda?” Reuben relit his cigar and slumped back in his chair.
“Yes, Reuben?” The ship responded in her rhythmless voice.
“Relax.”
Andromeda was about to respond, then suddenly didn’t.

It was a small asteroid, the Cave. It was called the Cave, but it was really a big ship planted firmly inside an asteroid. Disguised as a lump of space rock, free to dally around in slow orbits without attracting too much attention. Mechanisms in the rock allowed it to change shape periodically so nobody could wise up to a familiar-shaped rock showing up at every turn.
Reuben didn’t live at the Cave, but knew somebody who did. Knew the proprietor. Just as well, too. Ships and people poking around too close to the Cave often mysteriously crashed into the asteroid or vanished without a trace. There was good reason.
The black ’roid lurked at the edge of Reuben’s radar now. A tiny speck, no infra-red trail, no spectral data other than flat black. To anybody’s sensors, it could be just any old large, cold ’roid. Just a lump of rock.
It was in Reuben’s scanning field; no doubt he was in theirs. He instructed Andromeda to slow when he was within a kilometre of the obtuse object, matched speed and held it right there. No radio or digital contact, that was the deal. Pure old-fashioned stuff; he got Andromeda to flash her lights in a prepared sequence. His code; those on the asteroid didn’t know the ship, had all their tractor beams pointed its way, ready. His code finished, was met by a silent black loom. It took a second, but a faint old-fashioned red-light laser ticked over the ships body, scanning, sensing, seeing.
Reuben waited. A section of the outer face slid back, open. Reuben instructed Andromeda to slide into the opening. Andromeda naturally obeyed her master, docked even as the giant rocky door slid shut. For a while, all was very dark.
Last thing Reuben said before he left Andromeda alone was “Forget everything you’ve just seen.” He was talking to the ship.
Inside the Cave he met an old friend, so to speak. A l’Borg woman named Millennium.
Millennium was unbeautiful in a well-groomed way. She had a poker face; no emotion crossed her lips as she spoke. Pure yellow hair hung to her shoulders, where it hit the black artificial skin or her shoulders. She had grey eyes, no expression. Her face and body was living pink skin, her arms and legs robotic. In a black and chrome hand she held a cup of something blue gently. That arm raised the cup to her lips, which only parted long enough for the drink to go in, then resealed.
“C’mon, Millennium,” Reuben was saying. Side by side they ambled up grey stairs, towards an equally grey door. Somewhere below, the stolen Andromeda E Class sat quietly. “Talk to me.”
“All right. I don’t have time for you.” It was all she said. Those sullen red lips a flat line.
“Hey, if it’s about getting’ you busted up by the K-men, I’m sorry. Hell, Millennium, they were going to pop me in the airlock. I hadda  get out of there. Sorry if you-”
Millennium spun around, angry, and lifted Reuben by his neck with her chromium arm. “I said I don’t have time for you or your games, Reuben. I’ll take the Andromeda if you want, but you are out of here today, either in a ship, or with the dump.”
Reuben started to choke, and the l’Borg woman dropped him, then strode away.

3. CHANGES
Reuben found his own way to the bar. Like all bars he frequented, this one was a seedy, dark hovel, it’s inhabitants permanently obscured by a reeking blue smoky haze and blaring noise no-one dare call music. Once in the room, he had to fight his way through stinking sots and hookers to reach the bar.
He ordered a Bourbon, and kept the bottle. He nursed a few, then took the time to observe his companions. He recognised somebody over the other side of the bar, and their eyes met, but neither made the effort to join the other, and they did not make eye contact again.
“What’s the news?” he asked the barman, not expecting a reply.
“You gotta lot of nerve, Reuben, coming back here after pulling a stunt like that. You’re damned lucky somebody didn’t blow you out of the sky out there. I heard you pulled an E Class Andromeda out from nowhere. It’s been a long time since anybody’s seen one of those babies, you’d better hope for your sake that nobody’s seen where you’ve parked it.” The big Dexian barkeep said in hushed tones. Hie eyes passed beyond Reuben, then he turned away. He had company.
A voice behind him said “I thought I told you to be out of here by now.”
Reuben turned. It was Millennium, and she had three huge l’Borg security bots with her, each carrying several highly visible phaser weapons. He was urged to his feet, and gradually they found their way to the door. “Hey, I was just on my way. I came here for one last drink, that’s all. I’ll go now.”
“You know how I like to keep my promises, Reuben. You remember how I promised to even our differences someday.”
“Hey, come on. Take the ship. It’s worth everything between us and more. I love that ship, but you can have it. Hell, Millennium, I’m no good to anybody dead, take the ship.”
Millennium laughed; the only time the man could remember her doing so. “I’m not going to kill you, Monty, which is to say, you’re not going to die today. Instead, I’ll let you guess what you’re going to give me- but first a hint. What did you take away?”
Suddenly, Reuben pitched forward into a painful blackness as one of the soldiers butted a steel gun against his temple.

He awoke with a splitting headache.
The first thing he noticed was the room: A white room filled with pernicious looking robotic surgery equipment. The second thing he noticed was that he had been carefully strapped down to the table. Across the room stood Millennium, and next to her, a man dressed in white overalls. Immediately he became very frightened, suspecting the torturous things he was about to incur. 
“Have you guessed yet?” she asked, an evil smile on her face. She motioned her the doctor to help her into a person-shaped frame near Reuben’s, and as the doctor strapped her down she spoke again. “Give up? Well, no matter. In a few hours, I will be able to feel with flesh and blood hands. You, however, I can’t speak for.”
“Millennium, you bag of slut!” Reuben screamed. “You’re going to cut my hands off. You’re a dirty turd hanging from the arse of a dead Icanian!”
“Oh calm down, Reuben. I’m not going to cut off your hands. What good would they be to me? No, while I lie here and sleep, these robots are going to cut off your whole arms and swap them with mine.” She paused for effect. “See, we’re not cutting off your ‘hands’.”
Montgomery Reuben had long gone totally white. He shivered uncontrollably, and screamed incessantly when the robots dislocated both his shoulders. He lost control of his bowels and passed out when diamond-edged blades cut through the meat and bone of his shoulders, severing them from his body with the ease of a laser welder cutting though a stick of butter.

4. MISSION
He just couldn’t get used to the new weight; it threw him every time. He leapt for the ledge once more, but his arms had acquired an inch or two more size, and he felt the edge hit against his forearm.
That was the other thing he couldn’t understand about his arms- feeling. He had two perfectly serviceable cybernetic limbs, yet could only feel in three regions; upper arm, forearm and hand. He had no individual sense of his fingers, and a touch on his wrist felt the same a bruise below his elbow. He found he had to watch his hands to see what they were doing, meaning he now had to realign his balance and visual sense.
He leapt for the ledge once more, this time making sure he was watching the extent and position of his new arms. He caught the ledge and drew himself up with considerable ease. His arms contained the strength of around ten strong men, and could withstand up to twenty times the pressures human arms could suffer before breaking. The chromium substance coating the delicate robotics was impervious to most phaser wavelengths, and resistant to temperatures in the far extremes. In fact, had they had perfect feeling, he would not have wished for anything better.
He sat back on the ledge and wondered once more why he was still alive. He simply couldn’t understand why Millennium would swap arms with him, then go to so much trouble to keep him alive and healthy. Obviously the bitch had other plans for him; she wouldn’t keep him alive and next amputate his legs for a vile swap. He took a hold of an iron bar to swing down from the ledge, but accidentally crushed it in his strong hand.
“These arms are so weak, Monty.” Millennium called from the door. He hadn’t heard her enter. “But I guess that’s the price of biology.”
Reuben dived down, allowing his arms to take most of the fall, then tried to flip over onto his feet, overcompensated for his acquired strength, then landed hard on his face. From the floor he growled “What the hell do you want?”
“Be civil, Monty. I was merely coming to see how you are adapting. The doctor has finally let me out of the infirmary, and taken the wretched plaster off. I had completely forgotten how much pain is involved in living tissue. Oh, but the pain is a pleasure after so many years of vague senses and misbegotten itches. You’ll come to hate those illicit feelings in your body.”
Reuben stood up brushing the fresh blood away from his nose. “Have you come here for a reason, or just to torment me?”
Millennium blinked, then she was back to her usual cold self. “A little of both. Now we are even, I have a business proposition for you.”
The bleeding man snorted and tried to rush Millennium, but a security bot held up a cybernetic hand to restrain him. “Even! You cut my god-damned arms off to get even? I offered you the Andromeda. You know it’s one of the fastest ships in the galaxy. An E Class, they don’t construct them like that these days. Offload it to the right buyer and you could afford immortality with half the money it brings. God-damn you, you dog’s arse. Taunting me with a business proposition. If you want to kill me, just go on an do it. I don’t want to see your face any longer.”
Millennium stepped around the security bot and told it to leave. She put her arm around Rueben’s shoulder, obviously relishing in the new feelings generated by the action. “Careful what you say, Monty. You don’t want to offset things again. I can see you’re a little angry about the changes your life is taking, so why don’t you listen to what I’m about to tell you. As I said, I have a business proposition for you. If you accept, you’ll end up in a position to buy your way out of those dealings that brought you to where you stand today.”
Reuben had calmed down a little. “And if I decline?”
Millennium stepped away from him, and as kindly as she could phrase it, said “We’ll flush you out into space with the dump.”
“You are a dirty thieving bitch. What option do I have?”

5. PHOENIX
“I knew you’d see it my way. Well, I’ll give it to you straight and simple. The K-men, of whom you are obviously aware, have been giving the Cave trouble for the last few cycles. They of course are aware of our location, information we lack about their headquarters, which puts them in a dangerous position, as you will realise. There are rumours around that they were the ones who put you up to bombing the leo block on Dexia. Now I can’t say if that’s true, but if it is, then we both may gain something by erasing these treacherous fiends.”
Reuben tensed his hands. “You want me to take out the K-men? You’re completely mad!”
“Perhaps. But we can take care of the warships; the Cave is very well armoured. What you have to do is take out their base. Find it, then take it out. Any questions?”
“Any questions? What the hell am I supposed to take it out with? A couple of core-phasers and a portable nuke? Do you see me packing?”
Millennium strode away from Reuben, rubbing her- his- arms sensually. She’d had the hands modified, more feminine than he’d remembered. “Are you aware of the so-called ‘Firebird’ project?”
Reuben spluttered. “You mean the Phoenix? Can you name me one person in this galaxy who hasn’t? It’s said to be capable of annihilating suns!”
“If you were suicidally insane, I guess you could. Why don’t you come with me?” Millennium led a scared-looking Reuben from the room, and down a complex series of hallways and stairwells. When they finally stopped, Reuben looked out into the vista of open space, only a forcefield between him and the emptiness.
Reuben wandered around the null space. “So where is it?”
“What I am about to tell you is strictly between myself and you. If you breathe a word of this to anybody, well, just fear the consequences. The only other who knows is The Man. You know that I can hurt you.”
Reuben walked over the edge and looked out into space. He motioned for Millennium to continue.
“You have probably guessed that we are in possession of the Phoenix weapon. Do you know what it looks like?”
“No. I guess it’s some kind of particle projectile weapon, but that’s about all I know.”
“It’s a phased wavelength sub-atomic particle beam device, very unstable. Very few people know what the Phoenix looks like, and only one knows how it works. Okay,” said Millennium, looking around to make sure nobody else was present. “Hold your arms together like this.” She held her arms close so her forearms touched from her wrist to her elbow.
“Why?”
“You’ll see. Just do it, okay?”
Reuben held his arm together like shown, then pending further instruction, linked his fingers. His elbows were cushioned by his stomach, and due to the nature of his muscles, he could not point his arms at the floor.
“That’s right,” smiled Millennium. “Now, clap.”
“How? My hands are together.”
“Clap, make the movements in your arms like your going to clap.”
Reuben did as instructed. Then he watched in horror as the black chrome robotics of his hands melted into each other, as if made of liquid. He closed his eyes as if to clear away this hallucination, but when he opened them, it was apparent that what had happened was no hallucination.
“Behold, the Phoenix.”
Reuben could feel the gun. He no longer had arms as such, they were joined in the middle into some kind of awesome-looking tube that was the weapon. All those senses that he missed in his arms and fingers were all there inside the rod that his arms had become. He could feel the trigger mechanism where only moments ago had been his finger. He could feel the potential of the weapon inside his arms, and by moving what he thought of as his hands, he could change the intensity of the weapon, the potential ranging from barely more than a hard slap to... godlike proportions.
“Clap again to release the weapon,” said Millennium, in awe.
When Reuben’s robotic arms had magically transfigured back to their normal shapes, he turned to Millennium and stared disbelievingly at her, who was smiling appreciatively back at him. “You carried the Phoenix with you all the time, in your arms? That I carry the Phoenix?”
“Yes, but you are the first person I’ve seen who can assemble it. The ng’Karmian Prince I retrieved Phoenix from could not activate it, and nor could I. I tried the same process, after exhaustive research to find out how to activate it. The ng’Karmian gentleman in question had certain difficulties disclosing the information. He began talking once I tore the arms from his living tissue, and I had to beat him to death with them to shut him up. I guess I just didn’t have the knack for activation. Well, there you go. You have the most powerful weapon known, and I’ve kept the Andromeda just for you. What’s stopping you from your date with the K-men?”
“What’s stopping me from taking the ship, sailing out a light year or so and then blasting you to dust with the gun?”
“You are, Monty. Here some incentive. We can clear your name. We can credit you with enough chips to buy the galaxy. We have the technology to replace cybernetic limbs with real live tissue, as we have demonstrated with your generous offering of arms. Nobody you know can do that yet, and we know that because it’s one of the reasons you first came to the Cave those years ago. How is the foot, by the way? We have contacts, Monty, and knowledge. You can’t kill us because we own you. We made you what you are today, and you owe us for that. You’re even with me; the promise has been discarded. But we are the Cave, and have many contacts outside the Cave. If you kill us, you’d better be prepared to kill them as well, because you’ll be running for the rest of your life. Besides, you have ethics.”
Reuben snorted, began to smirk. “Stopped by a god-damned ethic. What is the world coming to?”

5. CONTINUUM
Very soon after that little meeting Reuben was kicked out of the cave by Millennium, on instruct from The Man, whom he did not know. He had Andromeda request access to the Cave, but he couldn’t even see them on the radio spectrum, and figured correctly that his days with the Cave were coming to an end. But with that realisation he also concluded that his options were becoming clear, and the future was again a dark area; unexplored territory with many new directions and paths.
“Andromeda,” he said idly to his ship.
“Yes, Monty?”
“Monty? I like that. Good to see you’re finally kicking back a bit. Where’s someplace you’ve never been?”
“Monty?” the ship asked, perhaps confused.
“Never mind. Did you scan the Outer Hope?”
“Yes, Monty, as per your instruction.” said the ship.
Reuben gulped down a fistful of the thick grey ale nestled in a white glass nearby. “Did you see a tall woman with white hair and a dent in her forehead? What race was she? What ship was she in?”
“The female is of the ng’Karmian Maestro-Artisans; the last known presiding race-family of the Fourth Empire. ng’Karmian tradition forbids those of the Maestro-Artisans of leaving the confines of the origin system unless in time of dire need. The last known ng’Karmian Maestro-Artisan sighting was over four-hundred and fifty years ago, with the collapse of the Third Empire, during the evacuation of the outer Terran colonies.”
“What ship did she arrive in?”
Andromeda paused as if in thought. “The female did not arrive in a craft. Data indicates her presence at the site was instantaneous.”
Reuben scoffed. “She materialised from nothing, is that what you’re saying?”
“The data is inconclusive. Data gathered from the Continuum indicates ng’Karmian technology of past millennia to have superseded many the technologies of current known civilisations as current communication with the races of the Empire are formed.”
“Oh. So, what happened to her?”
“Cache data on the woman ceased a moment before the explosion.”
Reuben smiled. “So she’s out there, somewhere.”
The great ship accelerated out away from the Cave, in a direction Reuben felt was unfamiliar. “Where are we going?” he asked.
Andromeda, slipping into hyperspace, replied “I predicted you seek the ng’Karmian origin world, and have proceeded to begin the voyage.”
Reuben again swilled a mouth of his ale, and relaxed for the journey ahead. “Oh my Andromeda, you know me too well. You and I are going to have a beautiful life together.”
Far down in the organo-electronic mind of the ship, the spirit of Andromeda tossed the various meanings of this concept in her mind, causing something deep and obscure to stir in her living memory banks. Had she form, she would have smiled faintly.

Coming out of hyperspace was one of those things Reuben always dreaded. Although he knew the Andromeda knew what she was doing, he still sat on the edge of his seat every time, wondering if they would emerge back in real space only to plough at three hundred thousand miles a second into an asteroid or moon.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked the ship in what may have been mistaken for a nervous voice. He did not get nervous. Tetchy, perhaps, but never nervous.
“Trust me,” Andromeda said almost too casually. Then the grey fog of the spatial hypermath realm fell away and the great ship slid back into the universe like a stone re-emerging from the lake into which it had been flung, the fabric of reality rippling away into the inky void.
Together, they were thrust into the icy tail of a comet. Andromeda knew what to do, but hadn’t the power to achieve it. “Unscheduled systems failure. Automatic navigation systems are failing. I need you to take manual controls. Now!”
Reuben hadn’t been prepared at all for this. He found himself flung from the seat before his brain told him to hold on. The ship screamed around him.
“What?” he yelled.
“Take the controls! I can’t navigate.” Andromeda replied.
Reuben jumped back into the seat, muscling his way into the g-web before attempting to grab the wildly swaying flightsticks. “I need help!” He shouted but it was drowned out by a malicious boom and ferocious shuddering sound from deep down below him somewhere. Outside, the universe started to spin.
Reuben in his struggle to control the ship forgot about his new-found strength, and managed to tear one of the joysticks from its housing.
“That’s not good,” understated Andromeda mildly.
Reuben wished he would pass out, but it never happened. He could only sit and wait for the end to come. “Damn it to hell. Can’t you do something? Shit!”
Andromeda did something. She flooded the ships ventilation systems with nitrous-oxide, thereby rending Reuben virtually senseless.
“Now I might be able to concentrate,” she pondered, and set her sensors guilefully on the blue icy moon flashing in and out of view out the front portal. After that there was nothing else she could do but watch.

It was black. The room was black, and outside it was black, too. There might have been a mountain range outside, but it could just be imagination. Reuben was bleeding all over himself, he couldn’t work out why.
“What happened?”
There was no reply.
“Andromeda? Are you there?” He asked the darkness. Somewhere, there came a grumbling noise, and oxygen flooded the room. It occurred to him that he’d been suffocating. He spat blood.
“Hey Andromeda?”
Some lights came on; little ones across the front console. His eyes adjusted and he saw less ruin in the cockpit than he’d imagined lurking in that deep darkness. He figured he has caused most of it anyway. “Monty, I am here.” He thought he heard.
“Shit.” He said, rolling around on the floor. “Where are we?”
“I encountered the tail of a comet upon re-emergence from hyperspace. Due to the irregularity of the particles in the comet and the nature of this region of space, I was unable to correctly deduce a safe route through.”
“You screwed up, then.” The man smirked, standing uneasily.
Andromeda may have chuckled, but the sound came out all wrong. “I think it would be an appropriate time to say ‘Whoops – My bad.’”
At that, he laughed out loud. “I think I said this before – we’re going to get on great together, you and me. Once you learn how to drive, that is.”
Andromeda tried a sigh, and it worked. “I am stuck.”
At once, Montgomery Reuben realised the distraught nature of that sigh, of that sentence. All he could come up with was a drawn out “Oh.”

6. FAITH