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Terminus – the outermost planet of Pyro. Gloomy, cold, gray – an unreal place. Here, on behalf of the Rust Society, I was supposed to pick up a delivery and take it to the Stanton system. In the Canard View settlement, of all places. It wasn’t just the climate that made it dangerous, but also the valuable cargo: diamond laminate. Robberies were an everyday occurrence here.

I kept my distance with the Prowler Utility and scanned the surroundings. It was supposed to be a low-risk job: go in, load the goods, get out. Not my ship, not my cargo. But there was this thought in my head: buy Diamond Laminate and sell it for a high price on Monox. It was tempting – but risky.

The sensors showed nothing. I pushed the throttle forward and was pressed into my seat. The gray buildings of Canard View came into view. The Prowler landed roughly right next to the trading building, a little way from the freight elevator.

No sooner had the engines fallen silent than a dot suddenly appeared on the radar. A cold shiver ran through my body, the hairs on my neck stood on end. I scanned the strange ship – a Crusader C1 that had landed at the other end of the settlement. Who was that? Courier – trader – pirate? If it was a trader, I had to hurry. Diamond Laminate supplies were running low.

In one fell swoop, all my concerns were swept away. I wanted only one thing: to secure the entire stock of Diamond Laminate. Without further regard for safety, I jumped out of my spaceship and ran to the trading building. I glanced around briefly as I stormed into the hall. I completed the transaction at the trading terminal. I didn’t notice what was going on behind my back and in the corners of the hall.

The terminal responded agonizingly slowly. I tapped my foot nervously. Then finally, the purchase was confirmed. I ran out as quickly as I had run in. Only when I reached the freight elevator did I pause to catch my breath. My breathing sounded heavy in my helmet. From my elevated position, I had a good view of the settlement. Nothing was moving.

Suddenly, an Argo Raft appeared and landed next to the C1. Another cargo ship. At least the pilots weren’t attacking, but what were their intentions? And where were they? When they realized that Diamond Laminate was sold out, would they try to steal mine? My tension rose.

I nervously watched the settlement. Everything remained quiet. Where the hell were the pilots of the two spaceships? A glance at the display on my spacesuit revealed another problem. I couldn’t stay in the cold much longer. I had to act.

Rumbling and squeaking, the freight elevator brought the delivery and my Diamond Laminate upstairs. The crates lay unsecured on the platform. Now I had to act quickly. First come, first served.

Sliding and stumbling, I made my way down the slope to the Prowler. My gaze kept returning to the settlement. As soon as I was in the Prowler, I started the engines and hovered over the freight elevator. Frantically, I opened the cargo area and activated the tractor beam. The blue beam transported the first crate into the Prowler. Then the second, then the third. I kept checking my surroundings. One crate after another disappeared into the belly of the Prowler.

When the last crate was stowed away, I applied maximum thrust and closed the cargo doors as I climbed. It was only in the quantum tunnel that I sank exhausted into the pilot’s seat.

Minutes later, I reached the Patch City space station. In the safety of a hangar, I transferred the delivery to my White Rabbit and stored the diamond laminate. My gaze wandered through the Star Runner’s cargo hold: a chaotic jumble of crates, ship weapons, and components I had salvaged on Monox. In the shielded cargo hold lay several crates of drugs from stranded ships. Everything was supposed to go to Stanton—if I could get it there in one piece. Pirates lurked on the Pyro side, and checks threatened on the Stanton side.

I left Patch City unmolested with the White Rabbit and headed for the jump point to Stanton. There, I deactivated all unnecessary systems to minimize the Star Runner’s energy signature. Like a ghost, it glided between the asteroids to the wormhole. It was closed.

Now what? Actually, it wasn’t a problem. I just had to fly towards the wormhole, calibrate the jump drive, and open it. But that was exactly the moment I feared. It took some time—time during which I was defenseless.

I maneuvered the White Rabbit behind an asteroid and waited. The radar showed nothing, but pirates could still be lurking behind any asteroid. I strained my eyes, scanning the brown gas clouds and watching the asteroids. The silence was oppressive.

After several long minutes, a freighter flew toward the wormhole. It opened. The bright energy swirled like a vortex. Lightning flashed. The freighter dove in and disappeared. That was what I had been waiting for. I applied maximum thrust and shot toward the opening. I didn’t have much time; the wormhole could close again at any moment. Asteroids and the remains of old space stations raced past the cockpit window. Just a few more kilometers. I held my breath. Then the tunnel into the Stanton system swallowed the White Rabbit.

*

Days later, I was walking through Area 18 on the planet ArcCorp at night, flooded with garish neon signs. I had successfully delivered the shipment to its destination. At least I was able to sell the drugs. But no one wanted the ship weapons and components. Not even Cousin Crows, the workshop on Crusader that was known for its unusual tuning. It was frustrating.

I stood on a bridge and looked at the building where Brubacker’s Off the Record editorial office was located. A shuttle flew over my head. People were walking around. Everything was going on as usual—and yet everything was different. I only vaguely perceived the noise of the city. I had come to Area 18 to visit Brubacker, but there was a note stuck to his door.

The Off the Record editorial office is permanently closed.
Thank you for your interest.
John Brubacker, Editor-in-Chief.

No sign of Brubacker. The latest issue of his newspaper was lying at a food stand. In it, Brubacker wrote about the scandals and violence in Stanton, but not a word about the ASD and Dr. Jorrit’s secret research at the Onyx facilities we had uncovered. He hadn’t made the machinations public – why?

I felt even more frustrated. Why had we put ourselves in danger? The Hockrow Agency had our findings, but the public knew nothing about them. Was everything being swept under the rug again? Was the main thing that the corporations and the UEE retained their power? And Brubacker? I had the impression that he was representing the UEE’s position in his article. He wrote that the UEE and the Senate were the best we had. I saw things differently.

I desperately needed something to wash away my frustration. The Deadlight was closed, and I didn’t feel like joining the crowds at the G-Loc Bar. After wandering through the urban canyons for a while, I stopped at a beer bar in an alley.

I sat silently at a table, staring at the pipes on the wall in front of me. The neon sign “Beer on Tap” flickered. Suddenly, someone sat down next to me and spoke to me.

“Did you read that in the Terra Gazette? They’ve made a breakthrough in real-time communication across system boundaries. Soon I’ll be able to talk to my family on Terra Live. Isn’t that great?”

“Yes, that’s great,” I replied, annoyed.

“Wait, I’ll send the article to your mobiglass.”

The guy tapped on his mobi, then mine beeped. I opened the article.

Next to the article about the scientific breakthrough was another one with a picture of a woman. The face looked familiar. It was Amelia Boyd, the leader of the Frontier Fighters. It said she had been captured by the Headhunters and brutally executed. I had seen her body at Ruin Station in the Pyro system.

And then there was a small, inconspicuous article at the bottom right.

Senate discusses possible reassessment of Nyx
Could the UEE reverse course and ultimately claim the system for itself in light of the ongoing terraforming of Nyx I?

Anger rose within me. Nyx was detached and independent from an overpowering authority. It was a refuge for freedom-loving people. The Peoples Alliance based there offered an alternative life, independent of the UEE. Did the UEE want to extend its corrupt fingers after it? The free peoples were in danger. Was it time for me to return to Nyx to fight for freedom?

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)