The Vulpine coursed over the ruins that used to be Planet Sin’s city center. The ship’s smooth hull and bizarre designed reflected a thousand smoldering fires of the apocalypse. What moments ago had been neon, smog, and crowds was now rubble, twisted metal, and corpses. The probots were out scanning for a signal, not for survivors, but for one survivor. The explosions had leveled the entire city, killing millions in an instant. There was little reason to believe Andrus Ovega or his comrades met a different fate than any of the other millions now buried in the ruins.

Even as the ship hovered over the leveled remains of another skyscraper, Foxtrot dedicated a small portion of her CPU to the recruitment process of the next Vulpine. Vulpine Two. Perhaps Vulpine Two would be worthy. Perhaps Vulpine Two cou...

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