In this scene, resurrected "ghost" soldier Tornahdo is arriving at the space station Enderium Six in preparation for peace talks. Ghosts have been told they will be peacekeepers and guards for the event. One problem: the person they've sent to chair the peace talks is a megalomaniac with delusions of godhood.

Policing a Megalomaniac

From the ship's bridge, the space station Enderium Six filled every viewscreen. It occupied busy space-lanes outside the Terran Crescent. A steady stream of ships debarked, heading in different directions. Tornahdo's experience with peace talks was limited but something was...off.

Not a good sign for ending a war.

He reined in that thought. Nothing negative. Nothing sarcastic.

He must not allow emotion to claim victory after learning to suppress it. Didn't matter if his anti-emo chip was malfunctioning or not. When the chip worked, it controlled every aspect of his emotions. When it didn't, he controlled them. He'd done that all his life.

Besides, who but a rank newbie counted on military tech to save his butt?

The general would not be pleased with his current struggle after he'd fought to win her approval. He'd asked himself why he desired her admiration but pondering that question always gave him a headache. He just needed it.

Maybe because his new training permitted a single emotion in his heart. Hatred.

Hardest thing he did. Hating. Wasn't his nature. But ghosts followed orders.

He should not give credence to the niggling doubt that something, somewhere was missing. But grasping the meaning behind the worry? Futile.

He must not worry. He must permit no emotion other than hate.

Ultras controlled the emotions of others. The anti-emo chip blocked them. The chip kept him safe in battle, faithful as a good soldier.

He must not think of self. Only duty. And with duty came danger.

Only days before, the Ultra's High Council had elected Pietas ap Lorectic as Chancellor. Why choose a bloodthirsty, narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of godhood and a fabled hatred of humans, and then send him to chair peace talks?

And how was a guy like Tornahdo supposed to do anything about it?

Maybe that was why the corps shipped Tornahdo and his fellow ghosts to Enderium Six. To make sure the Ultras kept their word.

"You look puzzled, Master Sergeant." A worker tapped colored indicator lights.

Had Tornahdo let his emotions slip or had the chip malfunctioned again? He brushed at lint on his uniform, stalling while he thought of a good excuse. "Odd so many ships are leaving. I thought I'd see arrivals."

"If anyone was arriving you would."

"We're the sole inbound ship?"

"That's right. We're touching down to land your party, load as many civilians as possible, and then we're gone too."

His throat tightened. "They're evacuating the station." Some peace talks.

When the Ultras found out they'd been lied to these so-called talks would renew the war. So far, his luck at duty stations was holding steady at zero.

Finish the mission. That was his duty. Nothing else. He must allow fear no ground. Ultras controlled fear. They couldn't control hate.

"Must say, Master Sergeant, you're brave. I wouldn't be security anyplace he was going to be."

Brave? Humans had no idea what ghosts went through. How limited their choices were. Master Sergeant Peon. That was a ghost. I need a volunteer. You. That constituted the bravery of a ghost. By those standards, policing a certifiable megalomaniac fit all the requirements.