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Candles cast a flickering light on the pedestal of the statue of Anthony Tanaka—the symbol of the revolutionary spirit and freedom in Levski. I sat relaxed on a bench, listening to the bustling activity. Conversations about the UEE and the future of the Nyx System filled the square. The People’s Alliance remained divided in its stance toward the UEE.

Pike suddenly appeared, looking flustered.

“There you are, Zero. Come on! Zwiebus needs our help.”

I looked up.

“Where is he?”

“In the Stanton system.”

“Ah—we could stop by on the way…”

Pike shook his head vigorously.

“No, it’s urgent.”

Flying to Stanton in an empty Ironclad felt strange. On the long journey, Pike explained that he, Zwiebus, and Jendrikon had unsuccessfully tried to steal components from a warehouse on the planet Hurston. In the process, they’d lost the “Anthony Tanaka,” Zwiebus’s Asgard. Presumably seized by Hurston Security. They needed my hacking skills to find it. I couldn’t help but think of how I’d stolen my ‘White Rabbit’ back from the clutches of Hurston Security.

After we arrived in Stanton, we met Zwiebus at the Everus Harbor orbital station. He was wearing overalls with the Hurston Dynamics emblem.

“Did you defect?” I asked snidely.

Zwiebus gave me a grim look.

“No, I blended in with the workers and tried to figure out where my ship might be.”

“Good idea,” I said appreciatively. “We’ll stand out less in local gear. We’ll get what we need on the cargo deck.”

“Go on ahead,” Pike suggested. “I still have to take care of something at the clinic.”

Pike was acting strangely. Was it because we’d returned to the place where he’d escaped? Or was there more to it than that?

On the cargo deck, I slipped into typical Hurston clothes. Zwiebus nodded with satisfaction. Suddenly, a harsh voice rang out behind us.

“Gentlemen! Follow me.”

Startled, we spun around. Standing before us was a man in a long coat, with a mustache and his hair combed back tightly. He looked out of place on the cargo deck; he’d fit better in Lorville’s business district.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed purposefully toward a dark corner between two tall shelves. Zwiebus and I exchanged questioning glances and followed. What could possibly happen to us in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the cargo deck? Besides, there were two of us, and we were physically stronger than that snob.

Between the shelves, the stranger got straight to the point.

“My name is Merrick. And I have a data carrier to hand over to one of you.”

“Oh, you’re Merrick!” Zwiebus exclaimed in surprise. “I was the one who tried to contact you! Through Pike!”

Merrick sized up Zwiebus.

“I have the original Levski Security file for you.” He paused meaningfully. “On their way back to Levski, they’re taking dissidents with them. They’re waiting in cryopods at the Teasa Spaceport.”

It finally clicked for me. Merrick was a former colleague of Pike’s at Hurston Security and, like Pike, had escaped the clutches of the megacorporation. A few months ago, we’d already smuggled refugees out of Lorville in cryopods. Back then, Merrick had arranged everything.

Just as mysteriously as he’d appeared, Merrick vanished again. Left alone, we stood among the ceiling-high shelves. The sounds of work on the cargo deck roared in the background like the roar of the sea. I put my hands on my hips and asked sternly.

“What kind of file from Levski Security, exactly?”

Before Zwiebus could answer, Pike appeared.

“There you are—I’ve been looking for you.”

“We met Merrick and we have the file,” Zwiebus called out.

“Shh,” Pike hissed. “Not in public.”

We retreated to a small, hidden room behind some shipping containers. It was cozily furnished with red sofas, lanterns, and slot machines. Boxes and beer bottles were scattered everywhere.

“What is this place?” Zwiebus asked.

“The union café,” Pike replied. “This is where the workers meet so they can talk without being disturbed.”

We sat down, and Zwiebus began to tell his story.

“I mentioned once that I used to help with the investigation into a murder case on Levski. That drug case. This is the investigation file.”

I remembered that conversation. A shiver ran down my spine. It had to be about Kylo’s murder. Back then, I’d been working on the maintenance crew and smuggling goods into the station for Kylo – until he was murdered and I fled to the Stanton System. Fear that my role back then would come to light and curiosity about Kylo’s killer coursed through me in equal measure. I knew Zwiebus didn’t think much of drugs, so I remained cautious.

“Let’s focus on your Asgard. My Star Runner was also impounded by Hurston Security at one point. It was supposed to be sold to some rich guy in Lorville. That’s why it has that black-and-gold paint job now.”

Zwiebus nodded.

“You’re right. I heard from the workers that seized ships are parked just outside Lorville.”

“Hmm,” I mused. The sofa creaked as I sank deeper into the backrest. “I could hack into a terminal at the ship dealer in Lorville and see which ships are being prepared for sale and where they’re located.”

We set off and flew down to the planet’s surface in the “Rusty Brick.” The ship dealer New Deal was located right at Teasa Spaceport. It was only a short walk from the hangar to the salesrooms, but the path was littered with cameras and guards. Even though my record with Hurston had long since been cleared, I entered Lorville with a queasy feeling.

Several ships were on display in front of the sales rooms. I walked past them without a second thought.

“There’s a Phoenix over there!”

Pike turned immediately.

Damn. We didn’t have time for this. Still, we followed him.

Once on board, Zwiebus and I marveled at the luxurious bar as Pike ran past us in his underwear. His bare feet slapped against the fine wooden floor. He disappeared around a corner, then the sound of splashing water came from that direction. Puzzled, we went to investigate. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Completely relaxed, Pike was sitting in a hot tub, beaming like a little kid. Shortly afterward, we were all sitting in the tub, forgetting all our worries and dangers for a moment.

But the moment of relaxation was short-lived—we had a mission. Once we were dressed again, we walked across a blue carpet into the salesrooms. Behind a counter sat a man in dress pants, a shirt, and a tie. He immediately turned his attention to us. I addressed him.

“Good afternoon. I’m a transport contractor and would like to purchase a Golem OX. These two gentlemen are my mechanics. Please explain all the technical details and necessary maintenance procedures to them. In the meantime, I’ll look around a bit—maybe there’s something else interesting here.”

While Zwiebus and Pike bombarded the salesman with questions, I slipped away among the display models. A quick glance back was enough: he was busy. My chance. The counter was arranged in a square, with terminals on three sides and an entrance at the back. No one else was in the rooms. I darted behind the counter and hacked into a terminal. In the background, I could hear Zwiebus and Pike talking frantically to the salesman. Nervously, I glanced over my shoulder. He was distracted. Within a minute, I had what I was looking for. Zwiebus’s Asgard was at Gate 6.

To make a professional impression, I bought the Golem OX. In the hangar, we loaded it onto the Ironclad along with the cryopods. Then we went our separate ways. Zwiebus and Pike took the metro to Gate 6, while I took off and left Lorville. We agreed to meet in Grim Hex. Until the two of them arrived, I planned to look for a way to have the Asgard’s transponders reprogrammed.

*

A few hours later, I was sitting nervously at the old38 Bar in Grim Hex. The fifth whiskey and Coke was already in front of me. Zwiebus and Pike still hadn’t shown up. Had they been caught by Hurston Security? I didn’t know what to do, so I ordered another whiskey and Coke. Mike was sitting across from me. He’d arranged a deal. GrimNeck Repair would reprogram the transponders. In return, he demanded that I smuggle a large shipment of Organics from Orison to Pyro. I didn’t ask any questions.

Then, finally, Zwiebus and Pike stumbled into the bar, talking wildly over each other. The Asgard hadn’t been at the gate anymore. It was already waiting in a hangar for the buyer. They’d just barely managed to steal it back.

“Zero,” Zwiebus began, sounding a bit hesitant. “The investigation file is password-protected. I could use your help with that.”

He placed the ancient data stick on the table. I downed the whiskey and Coke in one gulp, set the glass on the table, and stared at it. Did I want to grant access to the file, or would it be better to leave the past buried in the sand? On the other hand, it was a chance to finally find out who murdered Kylo.

“Okay,” I grumbled. “But put that thing away. You’re really careless. And first we have to go to the electronics store. I need a few things to hack into that old thing.”

The electronics store on Grim Hex was a chaotic hodgepodge of old electronics and hacking equipment. I searched the shelves and found what I needed. Then we went to the hangar and sat down in the crew quarters aboard the ‘Rusty Brick’.

Zwiebus handed me the USB drive. I connected it to a tablet and plugged in the hardware from the electronics store. After a few seconds, the official Levski Security logo appeared, with a case number and an evidence number below it.

“That’s it! That’s the electronic cover page of this file!” Zwiebus exclaimed eagerly.

I opened the file and froze. My blood ran cold. On the tablet was an image of a person in a spacesuit and helmet, lying on the floor of a tunnel. It was the same image that had appeared in the public announcement about Kylo’s death back then.

“Kylo,” I managed to say, my voice strained.

“Do you know him?” Pike and Zwiebus asked in unison.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I was on the maintenance team back then and could get into Levski without going through customs. Kylo had been smuggling stuff from Stanton to Levski. When he was working outside, I’d take it from him and bring it into the station. It was a lucrative side job.”

“And what was that?” Zwiebus asked with an irritated undertone. “Were you involved in drug deals on Levski or something?”

“Kylo never told me what was in those packages. I didn’t ask any questions. I still don’t ask questions in deals like that.”

Zwiebus took a deep breath, picked up the tablet, and flipped through the file.

“Zero, I really don’t want to harp on the fact that I absolutely don’t approve of the deals you used to make with Kylo. That’s not the issue right now. But what really bugs me about this whole thing is the strange behavior of Cabassa and the rest of the Levski Security crew.”

“Who’s Cabassa?” asked Pike.

“Onro Cabassa was the head of security back then. He brusquely prevented me from digging deeper into the investigation. He wanted to hide something.”

Zwiebus turned the tablet around and showed us a picture. A beardless man in his thirties. His eyes were closed. There was a deep, large X on his forehead. Apparently carved into it with a sharp knife—after he was dead.

“I was already certain back then that it was a ritual murder, but I wasn’t allowed to look into it. It was important to me that this drug problem on Levski disappear, which is why I was temporarily a member of the investigative team. But murders that are covered up or homicides deliberately left unsolved make me seriously doubt the integrity of Levski’s security agencies!”

Pike looked around with a serious expression.

“Zwiebus, I can tell you this: security agencies always develop a strange momentum of their own. I know all about it.”

I picked up the tablet and looked at the picture. I’d never seen Kylo without his helmet.

Lost in thought, I spoke without taking my eyes off the tablet.

“Back then, I used to deliver small packages for Recco Battaglia from Stanton to Levski. I had to drop them off with the drug chemist Wallace Klim. After Kylo’s death, Wallace had the drug market in Levski completely under his control. Recco organized all the shipments to Levski, even the ones that didn’t go through official channels. I’d always believed that a rival had murdered Kylo to take over his business. I suspected Recco and Wallace. On the other hand, I didn’t think either of them was capable of murder. But what if official authorities in Levski were involved after all? That would be a scandal.”

As I spoke, I examined the files. Suddenly, something struck me as odd. Something wasn’t right—the checksums and metadata of the files didn’t match.

“Guys—this file has been tampered with!” I exclaimed in horror. “Someone tried to delete the image of Kylo’s face from the file. It could only have been someone from security. But that idiot went about it sloppily. The automated backup restored the image.”

Stunned, we sat at the table without saying a word. Why would official authorities in Levski cover up the circumstances surrounding Kylos’s murder? This was the People’s Alliance, not the corrupt corporations in Stanton. That couldn’t be. It wasn’t allowed to be.

I was the first to find my voice again.

“Okay, we have to look into this. I’m flying to Levski right away to bring our frozen passengers to their new home. You’ll follow as soon as the transponders are reprogrammed.”

Both nodded in silent agreement. It was a scandal. Angry, horrified, and stunned, I stood at the railing of the Ironclad while Pike and Zwiebus disembarked—then I took off. If this were true, it would corrupt the ideals of the People’s Alliance. It would tarnish the statue and the memory of Anthony Tanaka.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)