Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel

Their horns were black and shiny, and their hot breath he could feel

A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky

For he saw the riders comin' hard, and he heard their mournful cry

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o

Ghost riders in the sky

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat

They're ridin' hard to catch that herd, but they ain't caught them yet

‘Cause they've got to ride forever in that range up in the sky

On horses snortin' fire, as they ride on hear their cry

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o

Ghost riders in the sky

The Outlaws - “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

It was the light cruiser Cerberus that stood watch over the Ronin planet Λ07. Its captain had the ship on high alert...after what had happened to Θ18, Xairac, and Σ10, he wasn’t taking any chances. He had the ship’s shuttles sweeping the approaches, extending the range of their onboard sensors. It was an ingenious use of the resources he had available...and it allowed him to spot the incoming freighter much sooner than he would normally have.

After refusing all attempts at hails, he ordered his crew to blow it out of the sky. The unarmored freighter didn’t last long under the withering fire...just long enough to ram what was left of its hull into Cerberus itself. The shuttles could only stand by...and watch.

12 hours later...Λ07 went dark.

“Not taking Bertha with you?” Musashi teased Tango, as she hefted a grenade launcher over her shoulder.

“She’s not built for Ronin,” the blonde sighed, giving her beloved sniper rifle a longing glance. “I could load her up with HEAP rounds, I suppose...but something tells me I’ll want something a little heavier when it all goes down.”

“They’re different from our usual prey, aren’t they?” Whisper smirked. He seemed much more jovial since that encounter at the park bench, though Tango still wasn’t convinced that was a good thing. “I’m not even taking my knives with me.”

“...now that’s gotta be a first,* Graybird said in disbelief.

Whisper shrugged. “Wouldn’t do any good. But I still enjoy having a backup that doesn’t run out of ammunition or jam, so...” He reached into crate storing his gear, and pulled out a vicious-looking ax, with a short blade on one side of the weapon’s head, and a cruel-looking spike on the other. “Solid forged titanium,” he grinned. “I figure it’ll do the job.”

“I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed,” Musashi said, as Whisper slid the ax into his gear bag. “We about ready?”

Tango looked around at the others and nodded. “Looks like it,” she said, as she picked up her helmet. “Gear up. We should be coming to the release point for the DZ soon.”

The team finished strapping down their equipment, with each member double-checking the others before it satisfied Tango. “Helmets on,” she ordered, snapping hers into place and locking it down tight, as the others did the same. She checked their position on the Heads-Up display and nodded. “Shuttle is almost in position. One minute out. Stand ready.”

“I’m getting way too old for this,” Graybird grumbled as Tango shot him a look. The four took positions in the shuttle’s cargo hold airlock, as Tango sealed the inner hatch. “Thirty seconds out. Depressurizing.” She thumbed the glowing icon for the outer door, evacuating the air before opening the compartment to space. The view was incredible as they looked out over Θ18...but they weren’t there to play tourist.

“Ten seconds. Stand in the door,” she ordered as they took their positions, watching the countdown clocks in their own helmets. When the timer hit “Zero” and turned red...all four of them jumped out the door.

...50 kilometers above the planet surface.

The plan was risky enough as it was without alerting every rogue Ronin in the area if they tried landing the shuttle. So they’d decided on a more subtle approach, even if it was just a tad riskier.

Tango watched over the others as they made their descent, their beacons updating her as they put gravity in the driver’s seat for the first half of their journey. Other than minor course corrections using the thrusters in their suits, they simply fell, and it was hard not to just sit back and admire the view. She was grinning from ear to ear as the thin air whizzed past her...it had been so long she’d forgotten what an adrenaline rush it was. She could hear Whisper giggling over the intercom, and for once she didn’t blame him.

They’d built up some serious airspeed as the first marker appeared on her scope. Unless they did something about that, all they’d accomplish would be to make four small craters in the landscape. Luckily, they had a plan.

“Prepare for deployment on my mark,” she ordered. “Five...four...three...two...one. Mark.” At “Mark”, all four of them sprouted wings...carbon nanofiber airfoils attached to their arms and legs. Their screaming death dive began flattening out, giving them lateral momentum besides the purely vertical direction they’d been traveling, as they heading for the DZ. It was in a sparsely populated section of the planet...or at least it had been before the pandemic. Now, no one was sure, but it was the best information they had.

As they dropped below the final kilometer, they maneuvered for the landing. This was the tricky part of the operation...one miscalculation, and instead of a gentle landing, they’d hit hard enough to break every bone in their bodies. The timing was critical, but for this last procedure, she remained silent. It was up to each of them to choose when and where they would land and joggling their elbows at a crucial moment could well prove fatal. Instead, she focused on her own landing, pivoting a dozen meters off the ground as she engaged the thrusters and retracted the wings. The jets blasted away a whirlwind of dirt and debris as she flexed her knees and touched down…harder than she’d planned on, but close enough.

Her grenade launcher was in her hands a heartbeat later as she scanned the perimeter, nodding in satisfaction as one by one the others landed. “Status report,” she ordered.

“Clear”, “A-OK”, “I’m good”, came back moments later, as they all found spots to hunker down. Graybird already had his scanning equipment up and running, searching for any trace of nearby Ronin. The hope was to find a single isolated individual, or perhaps a small cluster, hence the reason they’d chose a location that could be called “The Middle of Nowhere”. If they could bring back just one infected Ronin brain intact, that would hopefully be enough to learn what the Masters had done, and reverse it, though if the opportunity presented itself to grab a few more, Tango had no objection.

“Contact!” Graybird announced. “Got a reading half a klick away. Looks like a singleton.”

“Lead the way then,” she instructed him, as the team picked up and moved out. Their suits offered some camouflage, but if anyone was looking for them, they’d be spotted. Get in, get out. That was her mantra. Do the job, then call for the Evac.

The grassy hill they crested led them to a small group of buildings…some power generation facility, by all appearances. Tango’s hackles went up. “You still only reading one Ronin?” she asked.

Graybird double-checked his equipment. “One is all I’m picking up, but I’m also seeing some interference,” he admitted. “It’s possible there could be others.”

“Right,” she sighed. “Whisper...you’re on point. Try not to make too big a mess.”

“Who, me?” he smirked, as he slid out his ax and hefted it in his hands. “Trust me...no one will hear a thing.”

Considering the circumstances, it was the best she could hope for. She gave him a nod while the others spread out to cover their flanks as they pressed forward. Graybird checking his readings once again and pointed at one of the smaller buildings to the left. He sauntered towards the door, slipping inside as he searched the structure. After a few minutes, he reemerged, shrugging at the team.

“You sure about those readings?” he asked, as Graybird took another look.

“Huh...well, according to what I’m seeing here, there should be a Ronin in that building,” he said in confusion. “I guess it’s possible…”

“...Look out!”

They whipped around to face Musashi, who already had his weapon up and firing. A grenade impacted the Ronin who’d been hiding on the roof in its torso, blowing it apart before it landed on Whisper’s back. Their pet lunatic barely moved as bits and pieces rained down on him.

“Good catch, Musashi,” she said in approval, who gave her a curt nod in reply as he looked around for others.

Whisper cast about until he spotted the brain box, heading in that direction to retrieve it when a second Ronin appeared, its metal claws reaching out to rip him to pieces. Without hesitation, the ax was in the air, slashing down to take the head clean off its shoulders. The rest of the machine’s chassis, now disconnected, fell into a heap.

“I thought you said there was only one Ronin,” Musashi snapped, as Graybird gave him a helpless expression. They all knew it wasn’t an exact science, but they disliked surprises. Whisper bent down to grab the two separate brains as Tango headed his way with the collapsible container...but let them go when they erupted in showers of sparks.

“...well that’s not good,” he mused, toeing one with a boot. “Are they supposed to do that?”

Graybird was at his side moments later, picking up a brain box and examining it. “It’s dead,” he said at last, “completely fried.” He checked the other one. “They both are.”

“I thought the Ronin were supposed to be sturdier than that?” Tango said in confusion.

“They are,” the hacker said in worried tones. He plugged a lead into a box and studied the results. “...not good,” he said at last.

“What?” Musashi asked.

Graybird took a deep breath. “I think they suicided,” he said. “It’s the only explanation I can think of.”

“But why would they do that?” Tango asked.

“If I had to guess? I think it programmed them to,” he pointed out. “I’m guessing the Masters don’t want us figuring out how to undo the damage...so they installed a suicide protocol in every infected Ronin. If they’re in danger of being captured, they fry out their own brain.”

“Jesus…” Musashi whispered. “How are we supposed to keep them from suiciding long enough to pick their brains?”

“Man, I don’t know,” Graybird answered. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Grab the boxes, while I call for retrieval,” Tango ordered. “We’ll let the scientists figure it out.”

“And if they can’t?” Whisper smirked.

Tango closed her eyes. “...Blackout,” she whispered.