---

Nothing had changed since I was here the first time. Framed pictures of Crusader Industries spaceships adorned the room. Behind a desk covered with storm whale stuffed animals sat the manager of Crusader Industries’ research, development, and logistics department. His blue shirt was slightly wrinkled and faded. A golden pin with the Crusader Industries emblem gleamed on his left chest. He threw a bundle of fabric at me.

“Welcome back to the team, Zero,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m not back,” I protested.

“You are. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

I looked at the bundle of fabric. It was a blue jumpsuit from Crusader Industries. Confused, I looked at the manager.

“What the hell is this?”

He furrowed his brow.

“I need someone of your caliber. An experienced salvage specialist. We’re not doing particularly well in Emperor Addison’s Second Life Initiative race.”

He paused briefly and groaned worriedly.

“And now outlaws have raided our transport ships.”

He paused again. Then his face lit up.

“But the trackers are still working. We know where the cargo is. And that’s where you come in.”

Now I furrowed my brow and looked questioningly at the manager.

“Get the cargo back,” he explained. “You’ll be provided with the necessary equipment. Everything is ready in Hangar 1.”

I wanted to protest – but then he continued.

“And stop by the hospital first and get tested. Maybe you’re one of the lucky 10 percent who have the gene.”

An hour later, I left the hospital in the cloud city of Orison. To get the preferred employee treatment, I had put on the blue Crusader jumpsuit. To my surprise, I had the gene that people with whom regeneration worked had. The doctor had told me that there was a high probability that regeneration would work for me too. But he couldn’t guarantee it.

Ten percent, and I was one of them. For everyone else, the regeneration technology no longer worked. At the clinic, I had witnessed people’s worries and fears. The privileged population of the UEE was losing a privilege. In doing so, they overlooked the fact that the free peoples did not have privileges like the citizens of the UEE. They only had their freedom, and they could lose it due to the regeneration crisis.

That’s why it was important for me to help end the regeneration crisis. But why should I help Crusader Industries? Why should I accept the salvage mission? I had to go back to my friends in Pyro. There, we searched for minerals that were needed to find a solution to the crisis.

I stood pensively in front of the memorial plaque of August Dunlow, the founder of Crusader Industries. He was an anti-knife activist and civil rights activist and founded Crusader Industries on the principle that a company can only be truly successful if it gives something back to society. He had a vision that a company could be both financially profitable and a force for good.

My gaze wandered into the distance to the spaceport, which floated between the pink clouds with its spider-like construction. Spaceships took off and landed in a constant stream. Imperator Addison had launched the Second Life Initiative to support regeneration research. As part of the initiative, companies were to donate goods urgently needed for research. Those who donated the most were promised tax breaks and sponsorship opportunities at gateway stations. A race between the four megacorporations in Stanton had begun.

So far, Hurston Dynamics was leading the race. I didn’t even want to imagine what the greedy Hurston family would do with the benefits they would receive if they won. They would certainly not give anything back to society.

I turned away and took the shuttle to the spaceport. When I entered the hangar, one of the maintenance technicians greeted me.

“Welcome back, Zero.”

“I’m not back,” I grumbled.

I had decided to accept the assignment. On the one hand, I wanted to support Augst Dunlow’s vision, and on the other, I owed Crusader Industries my new start after my stay in Klescher Prison. And my friends could wait one more day.

After putting on my equipment, I boarded the spaceship provided by Crusader Industries. It was an Argo Raft, a medium-sized transport ship. On board, I found various handguns, which irritated me somewhat.

Some time later, I reached the moon Cellin. The raft responded sluggishly to my steering commands as I slowed down and flew toward the coordinates from which the trackers were transmitting. The low-hanging star Stantons bathed the gray surface of the moon in an ash-gray light. Late, I saw an old outpost between the mountains. The skeletons of four destroyed spherical gas tanks towered over the facility, which consisted of a central cargo area with buildings, landing pads, and tanks. There were lots of cargo containers scattered throughout the area. The on-board computer marked the containers I had to salvage.

Just as I was about to land, the status display indicated that I was under fire. The shields were being hit by small arms fire. The bullets pricked my spaceship like tiny pins, without causing any damage. When I activated the headlights, I saw lots of Nine Tails in the outpost firing at me.

“Great,” I thought to myself. It would have been too easy to just load the containers. Now I understood why there were handguns on board the Raft. Did Crusader Industries really think I would land and engage in close combat to recover the containers? I was not a soldier, and alone I would probably have no chance against the pirates. There had to be another way. But what?

Looking for a way, I circled the area. The shadow of the raft glided over the facility like a menacing ghost. The Nine Tails ran, sought cover, and fired from all barrels. Then I had an idea. I stopped the raft directly above the outpost and activated the VTOL engines. My hope was that the spacecraft would be able to hover easily in the moon’s low gravity. Now I had to get to the upper deck as quickly as possible. I left the pilot’s seat and looked out of the cockpit window. My legs felt weak, as if I were balancing on a narrow board. However, the raft was hovering steadily in the air.

Once I was sure that the hovering flight was stable, I left the cockpit. I climbed onto the upper deck via a ladder. The hammering of the bullets fired at the raft accompanied me. The noise distracted me and just before the top rung, I slipped. It made a clang, clang, clang sound until I found my footing again several rungs below. I clung to the rung, my heart racing. I kept my eyes closed for a moment.

Finally, I reached the tractor beam console on the upper deck. Unfortunately, the computer did not show any markings on the camera image of the tractor beam. I had difficulty identifying the containers I was supposed to recover. What I did see, however, were the Nine Tails firing at me incessantly. I could only hope that none of them had a railgun or rocket launcher.

After a while, I found the right containers. I easily captured them with the tractor beam and transported them upstairs to attach them to the raft’s external cargo grid. I was thrilled. It was extremely convenient to be able to load cargo without leaving the spaceship and having to open an access hatch. In dangerous areas like Pyro, that would be extremely advantageous.

After only a few minutes, I was back in the cockpit, leaving the outpost and the moon Cellin behind me. I had recovered the stolen cargo without firing a shot or putting myself in danger.

Back in Orison, I dropped off the raft and containers and made my way to my hangar as quickly as possible. It was time to fly to Pyro and support my friends. When I entered the hangar, the first thing I noticed was the large Starlancer Max looming in the middle of the hangar. Then I noticed something standing behind it in a bay. In disbelief, I stepped closer – and sure enough, a ROC and an ATLS Geo stood there, like ghosts from the past. A beep brought me back to reality – the mobiglas lit up. It was a message from the manager.

Thank you very much for your support. I would like to show my gratitude with the ROC and the Geo. I hope you find the minerals you need in Pyro to help solve the regeneration crisis. The intense fighting around the old Harthor bases has subsided, but the Nine Tails have spread out there. It would therefore be very helpful if you could find an alternative location where the minerals can be mined.
And then I would like to ask for your excellent investigative skills. We have learned that Hurston Dynamics is secretly developing special flight blades designed to make space fighters more effective. Prototypes of these blades are said to have been sold under the table to a pirate group in Pyro for field testing, bypassing all control authorities. After the killer satellite scandal, we are watching this with concern. Please keep your eyes and ears open in Pyro. It would be very helpful if you could find out something about this matter.

There it was again, the greed of the Hurston family. They acted only for their own benefit and brought nothing but suffering and devastation to the world. The news felt like further proof: the Hurston family was a monument to greed – and Crusader Industries was more than just a mega-corporation. It was right to support Crusader Industries. Nevertheless, I was glad to leave Orison and Stanton behind. After takeoff, the gas giant Crusader slowly grew smaller behind me. Minutes later, the jump point to Pyro, embedded in blue gas clouds, appeared in front of me. A childlike pre-Christmas feeling spread through me. Shortly thereafter, the wormhole spat me out into the brown gas clouds of Pyro. Shattered asteroids and debris from old space stations surrounded the Starlancer. With the warm feeling of being back in the right place, the tension also rose. Pyro was not a paradise, but a powder keg. The dangers in this lawless system were the price of a free life independent of the UEE.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)