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For days I had been roaming the Nyx system, hopping from service station to service station. It was a dangerous blind flight through the Keeger Belt, the outermost asteroid belt—an impenetrable soup of dust, gas, and drifting debris. Hardly a ray of light found its way in. Nevertheless, the People’s Alliance kept a few old QV stations alive, like flickering candles in an endless tunnel.

At the remote stations, I spoke with people to gather information for Kjeld—about the Moraines, the Dead Saints, and the Claw Salamanders. What I got was as opaque as the Keeger Belt itself.

No one knew the Dead Saints. People only spoke of the Moraines and Claw Salamanders in hushed tones. The fear of facing aggression if you crossed them was too great. Both groups kept to themselves; information from within the gangs remained shrouded in darkness. I couldn’t even find out where they were.

It was hopeless. How was I supposed to find someone who didn’t want to be found? The Glaciem Ring and the Keeger Belt circled Nyx’s central star like gigantic seas of debris, full of abandoned, long-forgotten QV stations. Finding a specific grain of sand in the desert would have been easier.

Then I met Marta. Completely distraught, full of worry for her boyfriend.

“He got himself into something he should have stayed away from,” she said. “It sounded like a harmless transport job for the Dead Saints… and then.”

“Did you say Dead Saints?”

“Yes. I think they’re smugglers. And if the goods don’t arrive, that Twitch will finish us off,” she sobbed.

I sat up. “Twitch? Tecia ‘Twitch’ Pacheco?”

“Yes, that was her name. Do you know her? Can you help us?”

Her voice cracked. I looked out the panoramic window at the dark green murk of the Belt.

“Possibly,” I muttered.

*

The radar showed only one contact: a Cutlass Black, with a weak energy signature. I had reached the last known position of Marta’s boyfriend. Damn it. I shouldn’t have come alone. But now I was here. What had happened to the Cutlass—and to him?

I positioned the White Rabbit behind the ship and opened the cargo ramp. Everything was quiet. No external damage. Using Marta’s access codes, I opened the tailgate and went on board. Half the cargo hold was full of containers—Twitch’s goods. Without a second thought, I loaded them onto the White Rabbit. I didn’t pay attention to the contents.

Then I checked the logbooks and sensor data. The drive had failed. Another ship had pulled alongside, stayed for a few minutes, and then flown deeper into the Belt. After that: no more records.

I closed my eyes. No, Zero. Don’t do it. Just take the cargo to the station and be done with it.

A few seconds later, the White Rabbit’s engines roared. I followed the trail of Marta’s friend.

I felt my way cautiously through the darkness. Huge asteroids emerged out of nowhere. A ghostly flight through the fog of uncertainty. Eventually, I spotted something yellow on a particularly large chunk. The closer I got, the more clearly structures became visible—and a huge metal ring jutting out into space from the asteroid. A small space station could have fit inside it.

Suddenly, a signal on the radar. A spaceship, hovering motionless by the ring. I reduced the White Rabbit’s power to remain undetected. My pulse raced.

Landing pads appeared. A ship stood on one. An entrance. I circled the asteroid. Structures everywhere, a large hole like the one in Levski. Finally, I found a pad by a side entrance. Why go through the front door when you can get in through the back?

An airlock led into a storage room. The metal floor was damp, ice on the walls. Only the rhythmic dripping of water. I kept my helmet on. In the dim light stood shelves and cabinets full of equipment, food, ammunition. Safety signs revealed: it was an old QV mining station.

Through a semi-transparent plastic curtain, I entered another room. A metal staircase led downward. In the semi-darkness, I could barely make anything out. Behind some crates—something. Someone. I turned on my helmet lamp.

The beam of light revealed a figure. A long brown cloak, a hood, a white mask. It looked like a ghost—with a weapon. It stared at me. No reaction.

“Hello,” I called out.

A shot rang out. The bullet ricocheted off my armor. I jumped behind a metal plate. The echo of the shot faded. Silence. I peeked out cautiously. The ghost had taken cover behind some crates. I took aim, waited. The white mask appeared—I pulled the trigger.

I carefully made my way down the stairs. The ghost was a human, motionless. I took his gear and stowed it away.

Another staircase led upward through an ice cave. It grew even colder. Thick icicles hung from the ceiling. Something white up ahead. Another mask? I fired. The white spot didn’t move. Through the scope, I realized: a lamp. My imagination was playing tricks on me.

After passing through a low tunnel, I reached another ice cave filled with mining equipment. Guards were stationed at the other end. Memories of the Onyx facility came flooding back. Why had I gotten myself into this kind of situation again? I stayed in cover, set my Karna assault rifle to single shot, and aimed for maximum firepower at range. The rifle whirred as it loaded—plop. One guard fell. Whir—plop. Got the second one.

While looting the guards, I heard a radio transmission:

“The intruder from the Cutlass has been taken to Operations.”

In a guard’s cloak, I found a map. Operations was located right on the metal ring. I left the cave through the airlock and floated along the ring in EVA. A track ran along it, and several gigantic mining lasers were mounted there. The facility was massive.

Operations was a large container with windows. Even from a distance, I could see helmet lights on the platform in front of the entrance. They moved like ants. What a pain in the ass. Did it have to be this way? Better than close combat. But not just in EVA from a distance. It took several minutes and magazines before no more lights were moving.

I entered the airlock. The inner bulkhead opened with a hiss. Several masks stared at me. A moment of stillness—everything seemed frozen. I threw a grenade, took cover, and waited. A bang, screams, silence. Someone cursed. I peeked around the corner. First my laser pointer hit the mask, then the plasma projectile. Silence at last. Only the hum of the computers.

Operations was the control center. Server racks, monitors, weapons cabinets. “QV Operations” was emblazoned on the wall. Through the panoramic window I saw the Ring. A staircase led to a lounge. There lay Marta’s boyfriend—dead.

I gained access to the servers via a laptop. The masked men were the Claw Salamanders. They had taken over several old QV Braker stations in the Belt. What they wanted, what they were doing, remained unclear.

I slipped away unnoticed and took Twitch’s cargo to the service station. I delivered the bad news to Marta. At least she was no longer in Twitch’s crosshairs.

Back in Levski, I flopped down on the sofa in my hangar with a Rust and thought about Nyx. It was supposed to be an oasis of freedom, under the control of the People’s Alliance. And now? It wasn’t just a border between the Vanduul and the UEE, but a stage for power plays. Gangs roamed among the asteroids: Claw Salamanders, Moraines, Shattered Blades. Twitch had expanded its influence from Stanton all the way here. InterSec acted as the UEE’s proxy. The UEE reached for Nyx, Genesis terraformed Nyx I without asking, and the Vanduul intensified their attacks.

Where was this leading? Would freedom and the People’s Alliance be crushed? Or would they tear themselves apart in their disagreement over how to deal with the UEE?

A few days later, I handed Kjeld the information I’d gathered—and a helmet from the Claw Salamanders and the Shattered Blades.

I’d had enough of excitement and shootouts. I was longing for a relaxed transport mission. I found what I was looking for in the People’s Alliance mission lists.

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