Kaiden Jericho has made a career out of bad decisions. This one might be his last.
Flying into the part of space the cartographers literally labeled “suicide” wasn’t Kaiden Jericho’s worst call. It cracked the top five, though.
An ancient alien signal said something was waiting at the galaxy’s edge, so naturally Kaiden pointed the Resolute straight at it. What’s waiting turns out to be a graveyard—eighty civilizations smarter, older, and far better armed than humanity, every one of them reduced to ash by something that hunts along a scar through the void and has never once needed to hurry.
His EI partner, Chief, calls it the Harvester. Kaiden calls it a very good reason to turn around. Except the Trinity fleet is shadowing them as expendable bait, the dead zone keeps whispering, and the thing in the dark has noticed someone is finally listening.
A street kid and a damaged orb against the predator that ended worlds. Those are the odds. They’ve survived worse on less.
Does the bond no one thought possible hold the one weapon that works—or just buy the galaxy one more name to forget?
