It was afternoon and four hover-cars were parked on a ridge overlooking the ruins of a decaying building. Silhouettes of soldiers dotted the horizon. They waited. Commander Freedom and twenty Alliance guards stood at the site, searching for Kill's crew. The fear of an ambush subsided now to be replaced by a general feeling of a snub.

"Where are they?" General Rush asked out loud. "Damn assholes."

"No sightings, sir," the lieutenant responded on command. "No craft anywhere."

"We've been stood up," Freedom said. He was a big man. Strong enough to punch out a horse if the situation called for it but no amount of strength was going to make Kilraven show up.

"Psychic scan!" barked the General.

Two telepaths stood locking arms. The blue eyes glowed. Their faces grew blank.

"Nothing," they said in unison. "Nothing at all."

"He's a no-show," Freedom said. "A no-show."

"Commander-?" General Rush started.

"Pack it in, boys," Freedom said, walking back toward his hover-car. "This ain't happening!"

General Rush walked quickly toward the Commander.

"Commander, what do you-?" he started to say.

"We've been stood up," Freedom responded, hopping into his hover-car.

"What should we—?"

"Send out a message. To the usual channel. Reschedule," Freedom said.

"But—"

"Maybe they overslept," he said. "Send out a new invite."

"This is the sixth meet-up they've ignored," said General Rush.

"Seven's my lucky number," smiled Freedom. "The Peace Accords will go forward."

"Sir, this isn't happening," said Rush. "Kill is playing with us, sir."

"General Rush, send out another invite," Freedom said. "That's an order."

"Yes sir," Rush replied.

Freedom threw the car into levitate mode and ascended. Two other hover-cars struggled to catch up.

Where are you, Kill? Freedom wondered. Dead? Captured? Going to make it hard on me, I guess. Never liked you, anyway.

"I can't say I like you, either," Kilraven said, so many years ago. "I don't exactly understand a man like you. So strong. So powerful. Yet dumb as a brick."

"That's what you think?" asked Agent Freedom. "Don't seem to remember asking your opinion."

The old man flying the hover-car remembered that day back when he was young and strong and was not used to having to listen to civilians going on about anything. He resented this young scientist, so cocky and opinionated. He was getting in the way of the mission and Freedom did not like having to be polite. But Dr. Kilraven was a guest of the government— a necessary and special expert due to his extensive and helpful knowledge set.

"He's a polymath. A certified genius. Degrees in robotics, astrophysics, biology. And speaks eight languages. The closest thing we have to an expert in extraterrestrial life," Freedom's superiors told him. "He will accompany you to the landing zone."

Freedom knew he would suffer this egghead but there was something particularly grating about this guy.

"Your superiors— your commanders— tell you to do something and you do it without a bit of questioning. With no thought at all to the consequences?" Kilraven asked.

"Yep," Agent Freedom replied. Including put up with dicks like you, he thought.

They had been told to collect the alien. And to take him and the devices and paraphernalia directly back to base. After a struggle with the robots guarding the fallen alien, Agent Freedom had managed to incapacitate them. And with Kilraven's suggestions, they had collected the unconscious alien and all his devices. And then they waited for another army transport to arrive to replace the smoldering ruins of the one the guardian robots had obliterated. Freedom hated the waiting.

"Where will they take all this wonderful technology, do you suppose?" Kilraven asked. "Surely somewhere to be used for the good of humanity, of course?"

And with that turn of phrase, Kilraven winked at him and smiled.

"None of my concern." Freedom said.

"Of course not," Kilraven said. "Not your problem."

That was a long time ago, Commander Freedom thought. The army did arrive and collected everything— the tech and the alien Quadju. And Freedom and Kilraven rode back to base. Perhaps he should have figured out that Kilraven was already scheming to run off with some of the technology at that point— that those words belied his intent.

Perhaps Freedom should have killed that cocksure professor right then and there. A bullet to the head. Maybe that would have prevented everything that transpired since those moments. But he did not. And Kilraven ran away with some of that alien technology starting the battle that would eventually set the whole world on fire.

“Just following orders,” Agent Freedom had said and Kilraven laughed at him again.

Commander Freedom looked out at the clouds. Down below were the ruins of a city that Freedom had failed to protect. Another casualty of Kilraven's mad bombing campaign.

He would stop Kilraven. He would make this right. He had to find Crusher.