Ascent. Part Six.

We took the sins of our society into space. Colonel Adrian Huxton just wants to climb to the top. Now, he faces the final step.

Thank you all for reading to the very end. If you enjoyed Ascent. and want to continue reading regular science fiction stories, please subscribe to my substack.

-Ken

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The Armada shuttle lifted off the landing pad. Strapped into the VIP chair, Adrian’s vision glowed with engine trails from all the spaceships orbiting Tollyon Anchorage. A squadron of Harrows whipped past the shuttle on their way out on deployment. They ignored the traffic lanes filled with civilians and continued on their way, plasma torches glowing as they began acceleration to the jump shelf.

“Shuttle two-two-deltol-nine, you are cleared to burn,” orbital control said, her sterile voice filling the shuttle’s cockpit.

“Copy control, have a good day,” the pilot said. He hit the throttle. The shuttle’s twin torches rumbled as they pumped plasma in a high velocity stream out the back. The entire ship shook down to the molecular bonding between the deck plates from the force behind them.

Adrian loved that feeling. It was like being on Belladona’s cramped bridge again, feeling her living as power coursed through her. She was talking and he talked back when he commanded her. That old familiarity steadied his nerves.

Tollyon II appeared in the cockpit windows, all red and purple. They were flying into the night side and cities twinkled around her continents. There were one billion people on The Anchorage, and another two billion on the pristine garden world below.

“Where’s Primary?” Adrian said.

“You see that big bay at the equator? Shaped like a sickle?” the pilot said and pointed. Adrian did. It was a ring of lights all the way around. The bay itself shined bright blue from all the boats on the water.

“Why’d they name the capitol city Primary? That’s like calling it First, but fancier,” Adrian said.

The pilot and copilot burst into laughter. “Ask the Venkos. When they took the planet, they made all the different houses demolish their capitols and move everything important there,” the copilot said. “Power move.”

“Oh yes,” Adrian said. A twinkle of light shined in the top right corner of space. It grew into the vast blocky form of a dreadnought. It whipped past as the two-spacecraft crossed at several dozen kilometers per second, leaving spots in his eyes.

Atmospheric entry went smoothly and in minutes they were flying over a neat grid of city streets laid over the bay and feeder rivers. Except he saw the buildings were various oblong shapes, growing up against the limits of the grid like coral in a box. They stopped over the round roof of one of the tallest and the dropship shuddered as its struts hit the landing pad.

Adrian grabbed his duffel bag. He’d packed only his gladius, the clothes he’d chosen to fight in, and a change of underwear and socks. He’d be down there six hours at most.

“Good luck sir,” the pilot said.

Adrian slapped his shoulder and headed aft. The ramp lowered to reveal two civilian servants in green frock coats and breeches. Their clothes were tailored to fit their slender forms. The woman had a ruffled collar, the man had no collar but a golden button holding his coat together at his throat.

They hurried Adrian into a private locker room and they shut the door behind him. At first look he saw this was far more lavish than anything built by the Armada. The floor and walls were shining, heavy marble that was silver with purple flecks. He reached for a locker and it flung open from the motion sensor.

He dressed in his combat uniform. Trench coat, slacks, boots, and his black command cap. He strapped the gladius on his hip. Then he emptied his pockets of everything and shoved them in his bag. Comp, wallet, breath mints, a couple souvenir local coins he’d grabbed over the years, and last but most importantly, his folded-up copy of his diploma. He sealed them with the bio-lock on his bag, then threw it in a locker.

He emerged out the door to the same two servants.

“Are you ready, sir?” one said and bowed her head.

“Yes. How long?” Adrian said.

“We just received orders to collect you. Your timing is impeccable,” she said.

Adrian wasn’t sure if the white-haired woman was saying that for the image of promptness or he was serious. It didn’t matter. “Okay, lead on,” he said, and followed them down a narrow corridor.

They emerged into the little arena he’d seen three times before. The combat floor was a circle ten meters wide, with a single row of armchairs elevated high above, and fully occupied. A handful of voices reached him as the nobles saw him and chatted away. He looked up, and saw Aunt Artreyas, her fixer smiling and nodding at her every word, and a dozen more nobles he didn’t recognize. At the end sat Molitor, with massive bags under his eyes.

Adrian unbuttoned his trenchcoat and handed it to the male servant, who folded it neatly and hung it over his arm.

A door on the far side of the arena slid open and Tarly walked out. She was also in combat uniform. She handed her trench coat off and headed to the center.

Adrian met her in the center. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Tarly said and stared emptily past him.

He leaned in, “Remember my idea to kill your aunt? She has one bodyguard. We can kill her.”

The edges of a smile crept onto Tarly’s face. Then ripped it away. “That’s your idea? Get us both killed?”

“She’d lose though. Therefore, we win. And we’d never have to fight each other,” Adrian said.

“That’s not victory. That’s just all of us dead,” she said.

“If she loses, we win. That’s always been good enough.”

Please, take this fight, he begged.

Please let’s do this and spite them all.

“This is just a way for you to absolve your guilt for agreeing to take this fight. It’s not about helping you, or me,” Tarly said.

Adrian mulled it over. “Yeah, that’s all it is. But the look on her face as we gutted her would be beautiful.”

Tarly turned her back on him. He heard a sniffle.

Tarly’s aunt laughed loud enough for them to hear. She yanked a wine bottle off a servant’s tray and tipped it back. The fixer leaned over her shoulder, talking away. Adrian could hear his simpering subservience without making out the words he said.

The judge emerged from a third door and strode over. He was a younger, cleanshaven man. He wore light armor over his sky-blue tuxedo and carried six feet of titanium staff in his hands. Tarly turned about to face Adrian once more. Her eyes were red.

The judge placed his staff between them. “You are here to settle a manner of honor, and you will settle it honorably. You will use only the weapons you registered beforehand. There will be no hidden biological agents and no undeclared augments. You will not stab your opponent in the back or throw your blades. The winner will be the last combatant capable of standing. Do you understand?”

“No honor here,” Adrian muttered.

“Do not insult this honored tradition,” the judge said and wheeled on him.

“Honor is the emptiest of virtues,” Tarly spat at his back.

“I question the ranks you hold but I am bound by this honor to do my duty. Do you agree to the terms?” the judge said.

“Yes,” Adrian said.

“I do,” Tarly said.

“Then, begin,” the judge said and lowered his staff.

Adrian yanked his gladius out and bent his knees into fighting stance. Tarly drew her longsword and took a high guard, with the blade aimed up over their heads. The dragon guard, Adrian recalled from sparring with her. She locked eyes with him and stared straight through him with determination.

Her eyes went wide as Adrian gathered himself and sprinted at her.

She threw her sword up in a diagonal block. He checked his swing short of impact and darted past her. Then he spun stabbed under hand at her left thigh for a quick end.

She counter-spun fast enough that he only nicked her trouser leg and flowed into an underhand slash at his left knee. Except it glanced off the floor with a crash and left her wide open. She retreated in a hurry. Adrian stopped his run with a twist of his right heel into the ground and pivoted around that leg to launch himself at her.

He jabbed at her legs then turned sideways and threw himself into her. His shoulder met her collarbone and she grunted as she stumbled. Adrian aimed the finisher at her knee, but she kept backing off so he barely nicked her knee and skin beneath. She hit the wall. And bounced right off, body tightening into a spear aimed at his left knee.

Adrian was already sweeping aside, because he’d expected that. Except she stopped mid-lunge and converted her momentum into a strike at his left shoulder

Adrian threw his sword up and caught her blade on blade. They met with a deep clang, then an earthquake through his shoulders into his body. Tarly threw her weight into the strike and drove him back, until his shoulders hit the wall. Pain shot through his head. He swung an elbow and hit something. Tarly howled and levered him into the wall with her sword. With two hands on her sword to his one she could put double the strength and he knew it.

Adrian twisted and tried to shimmy away. Tarly matched him, controlling their swords to keep him pinned in spot against the wall. She kept pushing right, slowly dragging the cutting edge towards his collarbone. They’d cut right through and end the fight there.

Adrian lifted his left foot. He lost leverage and she slammed the sword up. Pain laced through his shoulder as she missed his collarbone.

He stomped down on her right foot and felt the bone crack. Tarly howled and buckled. Adrian felt an instant of relief. Then she threw herself into him and dragged him down with her.

Adrian threw out an elbow and winced as all his weight hit there. Pain leapt up his left arm, followed by numbness to his fingers, but his head hit that arm instead slamming into the hard ground. Tarly hit beside him and rolled away, but he’d come down atop her sword’s flat edge and it strained under him so hard it bent. He yanked his left arm up and aimed the gladius straight down at her, he didn’t care where.

Tarly released her sword and caught his wrist with both hands. His gladius clanked off the ground, then as he tried to twist free, it slipped from his fingers.

Adrian answered with a punch to her nose that made a knuckle pop. A gasp escaped his lips. Tarly swatted his aching hand aside and grabbed at him. Her nails dug into his brow and tightened until his skin split.

Adrian seized her by her hair with his left hand and yanked her head up. Blood stung his left eye. He slammed her down and her whole body rattled.

She howled and tore down his face, leaving agony behind.  Adrian yanked her up and slammed her back. This time she spat something bloody.

“Separate and fight honorably!” the judge shouted and clubbed them apart. Tarly made a final yank and something tore clean off. Numbness remained, with a thin prickling over it as air stung his flesh.

Adrian hauled himself to his feet with his left hand. Blood poured straight into his left eye, forcing it shut. Something was gone. He furrowed his brow, and amidst the pain, something on the left side didn’t move anymore.

“Take up your swords, and then you may resume,” the judge said. Shouting exploded around him. Tarly’s aunt was howling something. Others were applauding enthusiastically. There must have been cheers the whole time, and Adrian had been concentrating too hard to hear.

Adrian scanned the floor until he found his gladius. He hefted it and the familiar weight comforted him. He wiped the blood from his left eye and blinked sight back, but more poured into his eye and forced it shut. His right hand hurt too much to form a fist. Tarly’s eyes were wild and unfocused, so at least he’d concussed her. And she was limping now, where he’d stomped on her.

He dropped back into fighting stance. Tarly resumed her high guard, then reconsidered and pulled her sword into a tight, low stance. She’d adapted.

Tarly’s shoulders heaved. Adrian’s breath was coming in hard and fast, but nothing burned with exhaustion. His body was wearing down slower, he thought with delight. Then, he realized his body was turned to the right, as he struggled to see with only one eye.

The judge lowered his staff, then backed away.

We’re really doing this, he thought. He turned until he saw Tarly’s aunt. The woman was drinking from her bottle, as she rocked back and forth in her seat. Then she was obscured by a sword.

Adrian stepped aside and aimed a reply at Tarly’s pale throat. She turned aside to avoid it and stumbled past him. Then rebounded. The wild look in her eyes sharpened.

He launched himself into that. They met with a clang and stumbled away. He stopped himself first. Tarly’s limp meant he could keep attacking her left. He circled that way. Tarly rushed him, swinging left and high. Adrian deflected up, then circled around and ran after her.

They met shoulder to shoulder. Adrian was stopped short by the blow. Tarly stumbled back. He sucked in his breath and gave chase. This time, Tarly held fast. Until her harried her back a step. Then another. Tarly retreated for room, but he pressed after her. She seemed almost surprised when he kept the chase up. So surprised he saw a clear opening and jabbed straight at her left breast. She twisted sideways, but he still hit something

She recovered faster than he’d calculated and buried an elbow into his shoulder. As he was spun by the blow, he felt her sword catch his shoulder blades and threw himself aside. Her sword cut a line through both shoulders, but he didn’t feel anything lethal.

He hit the ground, leapt up, and stumbled clear. A thin line of pain traced itself across his back and everything was sagging around it. Adrian straightened, but he couldn’t pull himself all the way up. He had to remain at a slight slouch as he turned to face her. Maybe he’d done far worse

Across, Tarly was hunched to her right, scowling as blood trickled down her shirt front.

Adrian’s hope died at the lack of spurting arterial blood. If only she wasn’t crippled on his blind side. Adrian raised his arm to wipe the blood from his eye. It stopped at jaw level. He gritted his teeth and strained, but it couldn’t get above his nose. Fuck, she’d gone and crippled him.

That would kill him. Tarly was clearly limping, but she could still swing with full range of motion and she had a longer reach. Now he was dead at her leisure. Unless he could think of something better.

Which, he immediately did.

He circled left.

Tarly circled after him and they went around and around. He kept circling, keeping them moving horizontally instead of giving her a chance to step in and attack higher than he could defend.

She swiped across at him. He deflected it and circled away. She swung again and missed. The force of the swing made her stumble. He circled right and struck again, then again. Tarly could only pull close and deflect over and over. She didn’t break. Adrian could only hit her along a band from her knees to her shoulders, and she must have known because she didn’t even flinch on any of his fakes.

Adrian backed away from her, and she relaxed a bit instead of immediately trying to cut his head off. She was tired, he reminded himself as his heart leapt. He switched directions and circled left.

Except all Tarly did was back away, keeping her right side to the wall. Adrian was forced to stop and circle back the other way. Now he was burning energy. Tarly had finally learned  to use her superior reach, and now she’d just keep him at bay indefinitely until he made a mistake, or she got an angle.

How much blood was he losing from his eye? Head wounds always bled heavily but this one was starting to panich him

Tarly swung at his lapse in concentration. He backed off and she pursued in her limping way.

He needed a finisher now, Adrian thought. What was something a gladius could do a longsword could not? A move he could make she couldn’t physically counter. An idea formed from his sparring this week. He clenched his right hand. Through the swelling he formed a painful ball of a fist.

He looked up towards the stands full of people he despised.

Tarly’s boots scraped as she staggered forwards and to his left. Adrian turned back just in time to deflect her sword aside, but since she’d been going left her sword only glance across her body without leaving an opening. Adrian backpedaled and aimed her trailing, injured right leg. He leapt forwards, extending far as he could. She whipped the longsword around with a howl and brought it down overhead, biceps straining with the force of the blow. She actually slipped as she went.

Adrian planted his right heel and spun into the right jab. Her sword missed his face and shoulder so close it sprayed blood from his wounds. He caught her jaw, and more bones cracked in her hand. She staggered, and her counter hit the ground once more.

This time she couldn’t withdraw fast enough, and he stabbed underhand.

His gladius hit soft flesh and lodged there. Tarly fell and he lost his grip. They hit the ground in simultaneous crashes.

Adrian abandoned his sword and rolled to his feet. He slipped on a wet patch and fell back, then stood more slowly.

Tarly got to her knees. His gladius protruded from the belly of her shirt and she was hunched around it, trying to rise.

That was it, he thought with relief.

Then, impossibly, she unfurled to her feet. Her eyes were closed. Her breath howled like a hurricane as she fought it.

Adrian snatched her own sword up and held it in his left hand, with his right fist supporting the crossguard. She turned at the clatter of nanosteel, and he raised it for the killing blow.

He checked his swing. He couldn’t. Rage burning through him, body shaking from the injuries she’d dealt him, he locked up. Tarly saw him and wheezed. She tensed up.

Then she ripped the gladius from her belly with a howl and splash of blood. Adrian sliced lower, snipping every tendon from her left knee and scratching the bone. Tarly dropped with a splash.

She rolled on her side, groaned, and curled up around her bloody wound.

“Let’s go,” he said and looked at the judge. “It’s over. She can’t rise, so end it!”

The judge stared impassively at him.

“She’s going to be dead in minutes without aide. The duel’s over,” Adrian said.

The judge looked up at Tarly’s applauding, sloshing aunt.

Adrian spun and flung Tarly’s sword her way. His shoulders couldn’t do full extension and the blade clattered at her feet as she shrieked and fell backwards ono her chair, and the fixer flung himself to the ground.

“Foul creature!” the judge bellowed. The staff connected with Adrian’s left knee. He felt it rattle up every bone in his leg, as he fell. “You dishonor yourself so?” He swung into Adrian’s right.

Suddenly a massive figure lunged in. Molitor sent the judge flying a meter upwards with an uppercut. The fancy man floated in the air for an instant, eyes already shut. Molitor swatted him into the wall like a cannon shot. A dozen bones crunched together.

Molitor glared at Adrian, then Tarly. Then he drew his own sword and hurled it at the aunt’s feet.

He was saving Adrian’s career. By endorsing his attack on Tarly’s aunt, Molitor was legitimizing it to the ruling nobility.

Then he saved Tarly’s life by pointing at the doors and yelling until the medics came out with their stretchers. He shoved the first pair to Tarly and screamed threats until they stopped the bleeding. The second pair came to Adrian.

They flipped him onto the stretcher. Adrian grabbed at one’s wrist. He wanted to climb into the crowd and kill Tarly’s aunt. He didn’t care, anger screamed in his ears.

Molitor planted a hand on his chest. “Adrian, it’s over,” he said.

“No,” Adrian gasped.

“You’ve won, stop!” His nosed brushed Adrian’s. His shouting broke through the screaming.

Adrian nodded and slumped back on the stretcher. The medics picked him up and hauled him out. He shut his eyes as they ran him back. A door shut. Then they lowered him to the floor.

Adrian kept his eyes shut as they peeled his uniform off and stitched him up. He bit his lips when they clamped splints on his knees and probed his kneecaps for damage.

They draped a blanket over him and picked him up. He felt warm air, then the rumbling of the dropship warming up its engines. Then he was clamped into the medical stretcher carry, which folded up from the aisle between the dropship’s seats.

“I’ve got your bag, and coat,” Molitor said.

“We’re going home?” Adrian said.

“Straight back to the Anchorage.”

Adrian kept his eyes shut. “What if you killed the judge?”

“Not sure. I might have. Sucks for him.”

“I appreciate you,” Adrian said. “Can you help me get my spare clothes on when we land? I’m not going all the way to the hospital in my underwear.”

“No problem,” Molitor said. “I’m writing up your request for medical time off from work. I’m asking for two weeks.”

“Two weeks at home labor. I’ll study and write my lesson plans from home,” Adrian said.

“Got it,” Molitor said. “Get some sleep.”

“Shit hurts too much.”

“Here, I’ve got something. Open your eyes.”

Adrian did and saw Molitor holding a little bottle of black rum. He snatched it up. It blotted his thoughts sip by sip as the medics finished working on him, and as the dropship winged him back, still in the stretcher.

By the next afternoon, he was lying in his bed in his apartment. The Armada had sent an enlisted aide, and the young man had filled up Adrian’s shelves with groceries before leaving to pick up his new bone density medication.

His comp dinged.

-

Call me when you awaken, Colonel,

-

Adrian squinted at the address. This was a Venko address by the capitol V in front of the number. He read the name; Mathias.

Being asked by a Lord Admiral to speak to him, on his own time made him dizzy. Once upon a time, his dream would have been to be so important to have such privilege. He blinked, and decided it was still a privilege. It had to be. He’d sacrificed too much to have any other course.

He swung his legs out of bed. His knees ached. They were swollen, but the doctor had given him one month to full recovery.

Adrian dialed the Venko number. It picked up immediately.

“Hello, Colonel,” Lord Flag Admiral Mathias Venko, The Lesser, said.

“My Lord Admiral, how may I be of service?” Adrian said. That was the politest way to address him. He was the important person after all, and Adrian’s job was to aide him.

“You can serve me by resting and recovering. I will not lie. I would have been proud of whoever won the duel. For someone of your low birth, that’s a high honor. You should be proud,” Mathias said.

“Thank you, My Lord Admiral,” Adrian said numbly.

“Now. You have a four-year term as a professor at our great academy. I have spoken to Mcarron and he thinks you will be a great teacher for our next generation of leaders. I will be in touch. I have need of brilliant, ambitious officers. And so, therefore, does the Armada. Much of the admiralty would not accept you. There are no Lowborn officers above your rank of Colonel after all. However, we Venkos have a more pragmatic mindset. As long as the Armada needs you, there will be a future,” he said.

“Thank you, My Lord Admiral,” Adrian said. Mathias hung up. Adrian tucked his comp in his lap and closed his eyes.

Everything in his body and mind hurt. That was okay, it was the expected outcome. He’d learn to accept it.

He’d learn to live with it.

The monorail came to a halt and the doors slid open. Adrian stood with the rush of passengers and took his time straightening himself out. He walked out last of all. His knees had been cleared for full duty by Armada medical, but they’d never stopped aching. He felt less steady and he had to grit his teeth and force himself to walk normally onto the platform. The warm, gentle summer air of Tollyon II greeted him.

The park sat at the center of Tollyon. Carefully manicured hills stretched out around him, pathways running between them. Each hill had a statue of red, or blue land coral sitting upon it. They were living decoration and right now they were in bloom with brilliant round polyps. Families had laid out picnic blankets all over the hills, or were sitting on benches grown from the ground around the statues themselves.

Adrian stepped off the platform and followed the cobblestone path. He searched for the statue of the great bench, where Sam had told him to go. A quartet of girls in identical uniforms raced past like a flight of fighters.

This was a lovely city, he thought. The organic buildings lining the park on all sides were a refreshing familiarity. It felt like he was surrounded by life, instead of the cold death of space. He’d have to plan trips out with his daughter.

 He passed a young couple with three toddlers bouncing around on leashes as they set up their blanket. That was a fun setup. The kids were having a blast bouncing on their tethers. Mom yanked a boy back and stroked the top of his head.

Adrian found a statue of a dragon with its wings spread. That had to be the bench, he thought and searched it.

Sam had gained new worry lines since he last saw her. She was otherwise as rugged as he remembered. Her t-shirt showed off her burly physique, and she wore a floor length flannel skirt. She saw him and waved.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s life?”

“I’m just enjoying retirement. It’s peaceful,” she said. “You?”

“I’m still climbing,” he said.

“I’m surprised you came, but glad,” she said.

“She’s my responsibility,” Adrian said.

“She’s a lot more than that.”

“Yes, I’m sure she’s many things but they’re all my responsibility too, now,” Adrian said. He knew he was coming on too sternly, but he didn’t know how else to talk.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, here she is.” She stepped aside.

The little girl hugged her knees to her chest and stared at Adrian past her bangs. Her cold blue eyes were wide. She was taller than he’d expected from the picture. She wore a red romper and a red ribbon in her hair. She was immediately the cutest thing Adrian had ever seen.

“Hey,” he said.

She hugged her knees tighter and recoiled.

He was scaring her. Adrian sat down and stretched his legs out to keep them from hurting. “Hi Alyssa,” he said and waved.

She hopped down with a little spring and walked over to him. “Are you my daddy?” she said.

“Yes, I’m Adrian,” he said and waved.

She walked forwards and threw her arms around his neck. “Hello dad.”

Adrian flinched. He’d been expecting mistrust, fear, and months of getting to know her. Instead he was getting unconditional love. He hugged her back.

“Hey Aly, how are you?” he said.

“I’m really happy right now. I met daddy,” she said.

“Yeah I’m really happy to meet you,” he said and buried his face in her little shoulder.

“Are you from space?” she said.

“Yes I am,” he said. “Up there.”

“Oh what’s it like up in space?” she said and hopped up and down. “Mom says there’s angels up there.”

Adrian grimaced, as he wondered what Sam was teaching her. Or school was teaching her because there was a lot of freedom of types of education. He thought the question over while he drew little hearts between her little shoulderblades.

“Yeah there will be when you get up there.”

“Ooh I want to go!” she said. “I read that in space if you throw a ball it will push you the other way and…” he kept babbling on too fast for him to understand what she was saying, but it was the cutest thing anyone had ever said.

“Okay, let’s go up there.” He got his legs beneath him and scooped her up. A grunt escaped his lips as he lifted her up. She squirmed a bit to adjust herself and ended with her head resting on his shoulder.

Sam smiled at him.

“Can I keep her?” he said.

“You can have joint custody,” she said.

Adrian spun Alyssa around. “Weee,” she screeched through giggles and hugged him closer. Adrian stopped so his knees could recover. Then spun again. “Weee!”

“Joint custody?” he said.

“Again, again!” she shrieked.

“Later, promise,” he said and poked her little button nose. She giggled some more.

“Yes. I’ve got three more kids and their father, but I’m still her mother,” Sam said. “I’ve got her on my health insurance.”

“Put her on mine,” Adrian said and strode forwards. He whipped out his comp and found the app.

Sam read the rates and her eyes went wide. “That’s…”

“Nobility insurance,” Adrian said. “Everything ever will be covered at fixed cost, and it all costs regular Armada benefits.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll put her on it.”

“Okay. Can I have her for today? I want her,” Adrian said.

“We’ll get lunch and then we’ll see,” she said. “You okay Aly?”

“Daddy!” she said and hugged Adrian tight around his neck.

“Hey,” he said. He pried her loose with one had. “Aly, I need to breathe!”

This was it, he thought. No matter what happened, this was his personal life here, free of the Armada and politics. He hugged her back tighter, like he could protect her from everything in the world.

---

Hello friends, I hope you enjoyed. If you appreciated Ascent. and wanted to support the substack, consider liking, subscribing, and leaving a tip via the button below.

Author’s note: in case I forgot to state it before, Ascent. is the prequel to my Vindicators novel series. If you want more Adrian, Molitor, and Tarly, and more military science fiction, head over to Amazon and check it out there.