Join the Ghost Corps, they said.
You'll live forever, they said.
You'll save mankind, they said.
They didn't say that to do it, first he had to die.
When Tornahdo signs on the dotted line, he puts his life into the steady hands of the mighty Ghost Corps. Three grisly deaths and three agonizing resurrections later, he's assigned duty on the space station Enderium Six.
He's facing his most dangerous mission yet, the very reason the corps exists.
Do they expect him to win? Fat chance. Tornahdo and his team are already dead and this mission is codenamed "Lights Out." No, there's more to this than he can see.
To discover the truth, he must face an unbeatable, unkillable enemy, and this time--somehow--find a way to keep himself alive...
---
In this scene from Lights Out, Tornahdo waits for his ship to dock. The space station they approach is where the peace talks he's been sent to secure are being held. But as the ship nears, he fights with the brain-embedded chip that the Ghost Corps swears gives him complete control.
Excerpt
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. They chose a bloodthirsty, narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of godhood and a fabled hatred of humans, and then sent him to chair peace talks.
Typical.
Bringer of Chaos
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