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My Ironclad was in for repairs, and the Star Runner was in the Stanton system—so I was stuck on Levski. It was a good opportunity to make myself useful at the station. I helped with maintenance work outside—just like back when I first arrived here.

I leaned casually against the railing and looked out over the gray buildings rising from the gray rocks. A large poster hung on the tall tower with the airlocks: “Welcome to Levski—stronger together.” Flames licked out of smokestacks, and asteroids drifted lazily overhead. Everything used to be smaller, more tranquil. Was that progress—or a betrayal of the People’s Alliance’s ideals? The residents were divided on the issue.

Memories surfaced. Of Kylo, for whom I’d smuggled goods into the station. Until he was murdered—and I fled to the Stanton System in his Cutlass Black, afraid I’d be next. Zwiebus had recently brought up the incident. Why did he want to stir up the ghosts of the past? Some truths were meant to remain buried under the sand. Or did he know something that was important to me as well?

My wrist vibrated. The present pulled me back. A message on my Mobiglas: Jendrikon would be landing in a few minutes. Meeting in his hangar.

Lokutus van Borg had offered upgraded crossbows. I’d shown interest, and Jendrikon offered to build one for me. Exciting. I didn’t know him; I only knew that Zwiebus occasionally worked for him. I’d already bought from Lokutus, but having a spare was never a bad idea.

A short while later, I entered the hangar. A Shiv was parked inside—basically a Cutlass Black, just cobbled together from all sorts of scrap. Jendrikon didn’t travel in luxury. He was waiting by the open rear ramp. His face—it reminded me of a friend who had passed away. After a brief greeting, he showed me the Crossbow. I weighed the weapon in my hand.

“Good work. What do you want for it?”

“You’re getting it for free.”

I looked at him in surprise.

“The main thing is that Ray Keaton doesn’t get it,” he added snidely.

I laughed. Ray had advised me, after hearing about my interest in Lokutus, to get in line. I’d replied that I would—after I appeared right in front of him like a Valakaar and vanished again. And sure enough, I’d beaten him to it.

A connection formed between us immediately. Jendrikon told me about his company and his late brother, who had owned a Terrapin and who had been sent on his final journey to the Central Star in his other ship in Pyro. I narrowed my eyes. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. It wasn’t just the air conditioning roaring in my head. Wait a minute, what had he just said? And the resemblance.

“Are you talking about Hermieoth?” I asked, taken aback.

“Yes, that’s what many people called my brother, Hermie Hendrikson. Did you know him?”

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t seen a ghost; I hadn’t imagined the resemblance.

“I need to sit down,” I blurted out and collapsed onto the bed.

“Do you know anything about the circumstances of his death?” Jendrikon pressed.

I looked at him sadly.

“Yes, I was there.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet someone who can tell me about it firsthand.”

“I will. But let’s go to the Grand Barter. I need something strong.”

At the Grand Barter Bazaar, I bought two cans of Rust. I gave one to Jendrikon and downed the other in one gulp. Then I told him about Hermieoth’s death during the mission on Pyro IV.

“It was a great loss,” I concluded quietly. After a pause, I added, “If you ever need help—fast transport, dangerous areas—let me know. I’m with the Rust Society.”

“I wanted to join that too, but they turned me down. I thought if I bought a rusty ship, they’d take me in.”

“No, it’s about the drink called Rust,” I laughed.

It was crazy: Hermieoth’s brother was standing right in front of me—and he’d even given me a crossbow as a gift. Guilt weighed heavily on my chest. The idea to infiltrate the data center on Pyro IV wearing an ASD lab coat had been mine. Hermie had volunteered and, without armor, hadn’t stood a chance in the hail of bullets. I wanted to show my gratitude and gave Jendrikon my high-quality minerals. He accepted them gratefully and said he needed Savrillium and Sadaryx most of all. Hadn’t I seen that on a sign at the QV Braker Station?

Jendrikon had to return to the Stanton System. For me, it was the perfect opportunity to retrieve my White Rabbit. He took me to Area 18. I didn’t stay on that cursed city-planet for even a minute and immediately set off on my way back to the Nyx system. My destination, however, wasn’t Levski. I remembered the Claw Salamanders’ reports about Valakaare on the old QV Braker Station. Perfect for testing the Crossbow in an honorable hunt.

*

After a successful hunt, I flew back to Levski with a trophy. While refueling at a remote People’s Alliance service station, I encountered a lot of discontent. The residents were railing against the committee, which they said wasn’t doing enough to ensure their safety. They felt they had to take matters into their own hands. As proof, they gave me a small surveillance satellite containing recordings of Vanduul movements in the Nyx system. A Mauler warship had even been spotted. I was supposed to bring the satellite to Levski—and shake the complacent ones out of their slumber.

That evening, I met up with Rebekka at Café Musain. She was wearing the same “Welcome to Levski” T-shirt as I was. We sat in a corner as the beat pulsed through the room. Behind her tinted glasses, I could see her worry.

“We have to prepare for the worst.”

“Is the intelligence data really that dire?”

“Vanduul attacks, a hostile takeover by the UEE, outlaw raids. Those are just the external threats. Inside, things are simmering: conspiracy theorists, hardliners, factions looking to align with the UEE. I don’t know if this is all going to blow up in our faces soon.”

A sense of foreboding washed over me. The peaceful times in Nyx were over; independence was under threat. I thought of the words of the old man I’d met before leaving for Nyx: “People with a dream fought for it and built it. People with the will to strive for freedom and never let it go.”

“Levski is an oasis of freedom, a dream come true,” I said quietly, almost to myself. “It’s worth fighting for.”

Rebekka sighed.

“And what if they cut us off? We’re dependent on imports here on this rock. The refinery is the only thing we have.”

I stared into space, thinking of the Corsair with all the parts I’d found, of my former life as a scavenger, of Jendrikon and Lokutus, who make things themselves—and of my origins. I was a son of the desert.

“No matter what happens,” I said resolutely. “We have to stand on our own two feet. The rules of the desert: take what it gives. Honor the dead by using what they leave behind.”

Rebekka frowned. I straightened my back.

“We collect what others leave behind, melt it down, and make something new out of it. No one can take that away from us. Not the UEE, not the megacorporations, not the outlaws among the asteroids. History must not repeat itself. The people of Nyx must not become refugees again.”

Rebekka sat up straight.

“With this new drive for independence, we might even unite the People’s Alliance. Stronger Together!”

I nodded.

“For freedom!”

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