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The safety bars pressed down on my shoulders and pinned me firmly to my seat. To my left and right sat heavily armored and armed fighters from the PMC TYR. Behind me was another row of seats filled with mercenaries. Memories of my first encounter with TYR came flooding back. Back then, I had also been sitting in a troop transporter with mercenaries and had felt extremely uncomfortable. This time was different. Kjeld Stormanson, the commander of TYR, had divided us into an Alpha and a Bravo team. I was part of the Alpha team and Kjeld was my personal bodyguard. The others were to clear the way and ensure that I arrived unharmed at the data processing room of the ASD’s Farro Data Center on Pyro IV. My mission was to hack into the system, download a key card, and as much data as possible. The key card was our ticket to the dark secrets of the ASD in the Lazzarus Laboratory on Pyro I.

Our spaceship descended toward the planet. The blackness of space on the other side of the narrow window slowly turned blue. The first clouds drifted past the window. The white formations looked so peaceful and didn’t fit at all with what awaited us. It wasn’t our first attempt to infiltrate the Farro Data Center. Last time, Hermieoth had lost his life in the process. Grief and anger weighed heavily on my chest. Hermieoth must not have died in vain. We had to expose the dark machinations of the ASD. And then there was this unsettling feeling, because I knew what overwhelming force awaited us. Would we succeed this time? At the same time, it was reassuring to have TYR by my side this time. Kjeld and his crew had often had my back.

Suddenly, I was pressed even tighter into the seat. The fighters next to me performed the same movements as me in sync. It was like a choreography, like a finely tuned ballet. The Starlancer TAC we were sitting in flew wild maneuvers. The horizon danced up and down in the window. I felt sick. Then a crackling noise boomed through the TAC. The ship’s hull groaned under the impact of hundreds of bullets. Suddenly, everything turned red. The lighting had switched to alarm mode. It was like a premonition of blood that would flow. Adrenaline shot through my body. My survival instinct took control and suppressed my mind. I felt myself losing my balance. My body had only one function left—don’t think, survive.

A metallic-mechanical sound added to the noise. The TAC’s landing gear extended. Then a violent jolt. Touchdown.

“Bravo team, dismount!” the command echoed over the radio.

The side ramp opened. Sunlight poured in and mingled with the blood-red lighting.

“Alpha Team, get ready!”

It was our turn, and we jumped out of the ship from a height of two meters. My boots landed with a thud in the red sand of Pyro IV. Grains of sand flew to the side. There was no turning back.

Behind me, I felt the pressure of the TAC’s engines as it rose back into the sky, raining a hail of bullets down on the guards outside. We had landed right next to the main building. Bravo Team had already secured the ramp to side entrance 5.

We advanced in orderly formation. Everyone had their assigned place. Everyone had their task and knew exactly what to do. I stayed behind Kjeld, who gave calm and decisive instructions. Communication over the radio was concise, precise, unemotional.

“Contact at 120!”

Shots rang out.

“Down!”

“Contact at 200!”

More shots. Then Kjeld’s voice.

“Raf. Enter!”

Raf and other fighters disappeared into the building. Shots echoed from the entrance. I crouched behind Kjeld, pressed close to a wall. For a moment, I wondered if I was helping or just getting in the way. To do something, I watched the area to our left through the scope of my rifle.

“Secured!” Raf reported.

“Zero, stay behind me,” Kjeld said, moving forward bent over.

Protected by his broad back, I followed him into the building. Corpses lay everywhere on the floor—more guards appeared—shots whipped through the hallway—my breath caught in my throat.

“Bravo team, move up and secure the entrance!”

Kjeld’s voice sounded as if it were far away. Everything passed me by like a blurry film. I only vaguely perceived what was happening around me. I was unable to think clearly and just functioned—merely following Kjeld and his instructions.

Another voice on the radio, which seemed far away.

“Data processing antechamber secured.”

Then Kjeld’s voice—clear and distinct.

“Zero! Up the stairs on the right to Raf. I’ll secure the left and cover your back.”

I rushed off—around the corner to the stairs on the right. The heavy armor seemed to hold me back. Every step up the stairs was torture—my thighs were burning. I reached the top, panting.

It was like déjà vu. Once again, I stood in front of the security door to the data processing room with the access card in my hand. But this time it was different. Everything had structure. In all the chaos, I felt no chaos. I waited for the command – waited until the TYR fighters had taken up their positions. Kjeld gave instructions.

“Heretic, as soon as the door opens, fire inside. Raf, you throw a hand grenade. Zero, on command, insert the card and take cover on the right.”

I waited with the card in my hand and wondered if things would go better this time. The look over my shoulders gave me confidence. The mercenaries took up their positions. Two secured the stairs behind us, the others aimed their weapons at the door. It was like having an army behind me. I looked ahead again, fixed my gaze on the card slot, and took a deep breath in and out. Seconds passed like hours. Time seemed to stand still. It was a brief respite before the big storm.

“GO!”

The command was short and sweet, then everything happened very quickly.

Shots – an explosion – the Bravo team flowed like quicksand into the data processing room and swept away everything that stood in their way. I followed with the Alpha team. While the mercenaries spread out between the ceiling-high server racks that stood like pillars in the room, I went straight to the left into the adjoining room separated by a pane of glass.

I knew exactly what lay ahead of us, because I had already experienced it. Once I had hacked into the system, everything that had happened so far would seem like a prelude. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I had warned Kjeld, and he assigned who should secure which of the three doors. Unlike last time, this time I had time to take a close look at the adjoining room. An equipment box and a weapons cabinet caught my attention. I frantically stuffed as much as I could into my backpack until Kjeld turned to me.

“Zero, it’s your turn.”

I took a deep breath and got to work on the main terminal. It didn’t take long to get into the system. This time, I managed to delay the alarm. During my last access, I had downloaded notes from the chief scientist, Dr. Logan Jorrit. So now I knew where to look. I quickly found his security codes. I launched a program that would save the codes along with other data from the data center’s databases onto a card. Now all I had to do was press “Execute.” My index finger hovered over the input field—for a second—then lowered.

There was a bang. All three doors flew open. Red light flooded the room. A deafening alarm blared. I took cover in the next room; guards tried to storm the room; the TYR mercenaries held their ground. A staccato of gunfire and explosions drowned out the alarm.

From behind the safety of the glass, I watched the main terminal display. The data download was progressing. But suddenly it stopped. Kjeld had noticed it too. “Shit,” shot through my mind. I ran to the terminal through the hail of bullets. Kjeld shouted over the noise.

“Barrage! Zero must not fall!”

I could barely hear the whistling of bullets flying past my head as I concentrated on the display. Someone was trying to stop my download from another terminal. My fingers flew across the display, entering commands, fighting back. It was a tug-of-war for control. Burning sweat dripped into my eyes. With the helmet on my head, there was nothing I could do about it. Then the download continued. Bent over, I ran back into the next room and watched the display from there.

“60%… 70%… 80%,” I shouted into the radio.

It took a frightening eternity.

“90%… 100%”

Suddenly, it was quiet. The alarm fell silent and the doors closed. The display on the main terminal showed “SYSTEM LOCKDOWN ACTIVATED” in black on red, with a blue glowing card peeking out from underneath. Slowly, my heart racing, I walked over and picked it up.

Suddenly, I remembered what Kjeld had said to me before our mission.

“Take the map with you. Don’t give it to anyone, not even anyone from TYR, no matter who asks for it.”

I stowed it deep in my bag. Then we began an orderly retreat.

We left Pyro IV without any losses, without any injuries, with the map. We had done it. I sank deep into my seat and slowly relaxed. ASD had sown the wind, and we had brought a storm upon them. A fierce sandstorm that had thrown sand precisely into the corporation’s gears. However, they now knew we were coming. The worst was yet to come—the infiltration of the Lazzarus Laboratory on Pyro I. But first, I needed a Rust—but certainly not another reason to continue.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)