Maybe I could claim I went after the Aryans for breaking the noise pollution laws. Those assault rifles were plenty loud.

I walked myself through what I was going to say when I reached Orbital. Best to play it dumb. People say I have a natural advantage there, but they are just jealous of my good looks and charm.

The golems sat stock still, in sleep mode. I felt as if they were watching me. I told myself it was just paranoia, but I’ve had experience of hacked drones, and it was not pleasant.

Fortunately, cyberterrorism was not the sort of thing the militias on Faith went in for. They were resolutely primitive when it came to technology. That was the reason they had come to the Far Frontier in the first place. They wanted to avoid the decadent computer-controlled life of the Core Worlds. Looking at what they had, I did not see the appeal. I spent a good part of my childhood in ruins like those below. I like comfort. It’s a pity the Federal Government had made it its mission to ensure I never get any.

I met a neo-Buddhist once who told me I must have been a very bad man in a previous life. What did she know? She spent her whole life eating vegetables and meditating on nothingness.

A distant light glittered against the velvet darkness of space. It grew larger as we approached, a massive dodecahedron studded with weapons and pitted with launch bays. Orbital. Home. Of sorts. The shuttle rotated into docking position and, as ever, the sheer size of the thing impressed itself on me. The shuttle was plenty big but it slid in through the landing bay like plankton gulped down by a whale.

Inside, subdued lights glowed. All the walls were a nasty shade of beige that was supposed to be calming. The shuttle landed itself. The golems woke from sleep and escorted me down the ramp. Two of my unit and a bunch of techs waited to greet me with a round of ironic applause and the odd catcall.

Ragequit raised a fist in salute. His right hand had HATE tattooed on the knuckles but then so did his left, only there the word was partially overwritten by four black skulls. It went well with his shaved head, and huge squat form. “You showed those ignorant bastards, 13. That’ll teach them.”

His voice was at its quietest, which was still an angry bellow. I had his support which was hardly a recommendation. He has been on the edge of Blitz breakdown for as long as I can remember.

Lopez looked a little shell-shocked.