I kept my head low and darted around behind the booths, hoping to flank Radlor and his cronies. I tapped frantically at my wrist trying to find the controls for the lighting system. Local... Utilities... Why can’t people keep their networks tidy?

“Alice I need a blackout!” I shouted in my helmet. A split second later the room plunged into darkness. An eerie green washed over my visor as the night vision kicked in. The other patrons were yelling about the lights and stumbling in the darkness for an exit. I peered over the booth and saw that Radlor and his thugs had flashlights... of course they had flashlights. Toby was nowhere to be seen but the door was guarded by a solitary goon. Unholstering my pistol, I grabbed it by the barrel and held it like a club. I snuck behind a quite large gentleman and jumped out at the last second, surprising him as the handle of the gun smashed him across the jaw. He spun around completely, never seeing what hit him. I grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall for good measure. He dropped like a wet sack of week-old fruit.

Radlor must have heard his friend collapse because a barrage of laser fire flew in my direction, I dived out of the way, placing the bar between us for cover.

“Come out Slate, we can do this quickly and painlessly.”

“Could you think of a bigger cliché?” I had a rough idea where the three were standing and stalked the bar clockwise to keep opposite them. I could hear the clomping of boots behind me and flashlight beams danced around the room above me.

“Where’s he gone?” Radlor barked at one of his cronies, “You, go around that way.”

Dammit, I hate it when they wise up. I ducked behind a flipped table. I picked up an empty bottle, hoping they’d walk past so I could pounce. Hoping worked. People scrambling noisily in the dark is a good distraction when you’re trying to go unnoticed.

A thug walked past my table. I grabbed his foot and pulled it from beneath him. He went down face-first with an ‘oomph’ as the air was thrust from his lungs. I leapt onto his back and gave him a quick elbow to the back of the head, knocking him out just as Radlor and the other thug came around behind me.

“FIRE!” Radlor screamed. A volley of laser bolts filled the space I’d been occupying mere seconds earlier, shards of glass and wood splinters rained down as they demolished everything in their path.

I rolled behind another table and landed hard on my side, which knocked the wind right out of me. I gasped and rolled onto my back, but this was no time to be lying down.

I jumped into a crouch as I heard someone approaching the table. The lights had started to flicker back on and off at random. I threw the bottle at a goon’s face as he peeked around the corner. I jumped up and followed the bottle with my fist, connecting with the goon’s neck. Radlor opened fire again. I grabbed the thug and shoved him into the path of the oncoming fire. Taking all the shots intended for me, his full weight sagged onto me, heavy and limp. I ground my teeth, and with my human shield pushed toward Radlor down the length of the bar, hoping to finish this and get the hell out before Station Security showed up. I let the body drop. I was now close enough to see the look of surprise on Radlor’s face when my fist appeared from behind his dead goon. It connected with the middle of his face and made a sickening crunch. He doubled over, blood streaming from his nose. I followed with a elbow to his lower back that sprawled him face-down on the floor. I gave Radlor a swift kick to the ribs and was rewarded with a pained grunt.

The doors slid open. Security must have found the override. I slipped into a group of scared bystanders in the corner, took off my helmet and tucked it under my arm, trying to look inconspicuous. Two large shadows filled the doorway as all the lights came back on. Perfect timing. Surveying the carnage from the crowd, Tables were turned over and smashed, drinks and glasses were strewn across the floor and there were scorch marks all over the walls. Not bad for a thirty second brawl.

Two uniformed guards stormed into the bar, stun batons held in a threatening pose. “What in the galaxy is going on in here!? Jackson, get those people out of here!” shouted the guard, pointing his baton towards my group. Jackson made his way over to our group, shepherding us out of the bar.

“Outside you lot.” I put my hand in my jacket pocket to hide my bloody knuckles and kept my head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. The other guard noticed the three bodies near the back wall and rushed over. Crouching next to the guy I hit with the bottle, the guard gave him a solid shake.

“Hey, hey, are you ok? Can you tell me what happened?”

I heard him give an incoherent grunt as I passed through the door.

“We’re going to need a statement from each of you,” Jackson informed us once we were all outside. He had corralled us against a wall, then spread us out to speak to us individually.

“So who’s first? Who is going to tell me what happened here?”

He paced up and down the line. I felt several eyes looking in my direction. There was a smash from inside the bar, sounded like several glasses hitting the floor. Jackson pointed his bat at us.

“Wait here, none of you move. Watson are you ok in there?” He walked back inside to check on his partner. I checked my wrist. Still connected to the network. The doors slid shut with a loud bang, follwed by a click as the locks engaged, locking the officers inside. I put my helmet back on and ran. Everyone watched me run off, followed suit and scattered.

I ran with a small crowd until I figured I was far enough away from the bar, then ducked into a small service corridor. Suddenly, Toby was right in front of me. I skidded to a stop and bounced off a wall. Toby looked as calm as ever.

“What the hey? How...how did. How did you get here so quick? How’d you know I’d come here?” I asked between breaths.

He waved a small compad disguised as a clipboard, “Security cameras.”

I bent over and took my helmet off to catch my breath, “Wow, I’m impressed. Could’ve stuck around to help me out though.”

He smiled and scratched his beard with his free hand, “I wanted to see if you could handle yourself and I must say, I’m impressed. All that training didn’t go to waste.”

He unplugged his clipboard from the wall, “This job is on Garrik Station, you need to make your way there quick smart,”

“Garrik? That’s all the way in the Border Zone.”

“I know, but you can make it. And look, as much as I don’t trust that insect,” Toby said the word like he was spitting venom, “You have a meeting with Bucket in eight hours, Garrik time.”

“What, eight hours!? The Border Zone is six or seven hours away from here at least, and that’s pushing my FTL to the limit. Also assuming there aren’t any solar flares messing the space lanes or any pirates with those damn disruptor nets...AND, Bucket hates me.”

“Well you asked for a job, I got you a meeting,” said Toby, remaining calm. “You should get off-station and go find out what that giant cockroach wants. Contact me with the details when you’re done.”

“No, wait a second. Details? What are you up to?”

Toby’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Personal business, nothing you need to concern yourself with. Now go, you’ve got my own meeting to get to,” he clicked off his compad.

I shook Toby’s hand and watched him leave still trying to figure out how he got out of the bar. Personal teleporters aren’t a thing...at least not to my knowledge. I rubbed my face and put my helmet back on. The electronics made a comforting hum as they all clicked back online. I walked back to the main corridor to make my way to my ship.

Space stations are huge structures. Flying cities, really, each with their own culture and sometimes even unique languages. This station, Cordoma Orbital, was nothing like that, though it did have a rather pungent smell of egg to it. There were only a few habitable levels above the hangar bay.

Connected to the station was a large atmospheric mining operation. Drones of all sizes skimmed the atmosphere the nearby gas giant Mensena, collecting minerals and such but mostly hydrogen and its isotopes. They were then flown back to Cordoma, then refined into fuel and other resources for sale.

I checked the time while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Wanderer should be done by now. The doors of the lift opened and standing right in my way was a rather large gentleman. He wore nondescript high-vis overalls and would have passed for a factory worker... except that his left arm was completely cybernetic. Made of shining black metal, several lights and indicators blinked on the inner forearm, and there were several mechanical additions to his head. Uh oh.

“Jonas Slate?” He looked down at me, eyes glowing an unnatural yellow.

“Uh...no?”

“Incorrect.” His voice sounded like metal scraping, he grabbed my neck with his cybernetic hand and lifted me clear of the ground slamming me into the wall. “Your account is overdue, you have four days to transfer payment or the next visit will be… less friendly.” He twisted his hips and threw me into the still open elevator. I hit the back wall and landed hard on my side. Friendly visit alright.

The doors closed and the elevator began to move, hopefully towards the hangar. I pulled my helmet off to catch my breath again. I felt around my neck for any damage, but couldn’t see any blood on my hand. That’s a plus I guess.

“I thought I’d travelled far enough away that they couldn’t find me,” I said to myself as I slipped my helmet back on.

“I told you, we wouldn’t,” Alice said sarcastically in my ear. I grumbled to myself. The lift doors opened. I was on the hangar level. The elevator was built into a structural pylon in the center, giving pilots and passengers easier access to the ships. There were two large freighters in front of me with several tubes connecting their topsides to the hangar roof, probably tankers bound for more civilised space. I paced around the elevator tube to the back of the hangar, marvelling all over again at the engineering of the place. The hangar was my favourite part of a space station. The low buzz of engines, the near inaudible high-pitched hum of the glowing blue ray shields that stopped all that space from getting in. The roar of engines taking off and the ambient scurry of the station moving fuel and cargo through unseen passages. Every station sounded different. I walked under the disc-shaped hull of a YC-400 freighter, nodding my head in a greeting to the pilot lounging on the boarding ramp.

Then there she was. The Wanderer. An Estarez Explorer Mk4.

An older style single-person cargo ship. Red, with silver stripes (just like my helmet) accentuated the long sweeping curves that flowed from the glass-canopied cockpit buried in her nose. The two short forks protruding slightly from either side of the canopy that secretly held a two laser cannons and several tracking and jamming systems in case someone thinks I’m an easy target. Sticking out of the rear sides of the ship with an upward curved angle sat my engine pods-the flattened round tubes casting a glow on the wall behind them as she sat there idling, waiting to leave streams of ionized particles across the space lanes. She was a beauty, subtle and deceptive.

The only entrance to the ship was a door on the back side between the engines. Running my hand along the underside, I made my way to the boarding ramp. I felt every divot, scratch and scorch mark she’d accumulated over the years. The ship was an extension of myself, and I of it - like a large, metal, flying detachable limb.

I stepped inside. The airlock door closed and the smell of eggs had gone, replaced with the cool, clear scent of air conditioning. I took off my helmet and jacket and placed them in the bulkhead that served as my gear storage locker. Leaping up the step ladder into the cockpit, I leant over the back of my chair and saw the fuel gauge was only at halfway. “Ummm Alice, how come we didn’t fill up the whole way?”

“Because despite you taking that loan you’ve forgotten to pay back, we didn’t have enough credits for both fuel and supplies,” Alice noted.

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were in the middle a reunion with Radlor. Relax, we have more than enough to make it to Garrik and back at least three point eight seven times.”

I rolled my eyes, “So we good for take off?”

“All ready, just waiting for a departure window,” Alice said, now connected into the ship’s systems.

There was a slight jump as the thrusters along the hull took over and the landing gear retreated back into the underside of the ship. “We are cleared for take off. Next stop: Garrik Station.”

“How long ‘til we arrive?” I asked.

“Seven hours,” Alice replied, “assuming we don’t get pulled out of FTL by a rogue star or some pirate with an interdictor,”

“Well wake me up if something interesting happens, I’m going to have a snooze.”

Alice harrumphed as I left the cockpit.

I kicked my boots off and jumped onto my bunk. It was built into the wall and I only just fit if I stretched out. I’m not that tall, but it was a snug fit. I got comfortable just as the engines roared and the ship lurched out of the station.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3