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“Now, just so we’re clear… what exactly are we doing?” Alaska asked.

“We’re taking people who want to flee Lorville to Levski,” Pike explained calmly. “Marrick has everything ready. Four cryopods are waiting at the spaceport.”

“We’re smuggling people? That makes us human traffickers!”

The uncertainty in Alaska’s voice was unmistakable. I looked at Pike, who was sitting to my right in the co-pilot’s seat of the White Rabbit. He shrugged and replied calmly.

“These are the people on the wanted list that we found in the Hurston database. Citizens, forced laborers. They want to get away.”

“I’ve given our flight an official cover,” I added. “The containers in the cargo hold have valid shipping documents: fresh food from Terra Mills Hydro Farm to Levski. And we’re making a stop at the Everus Harbor orbital station to pick up cargo for Lorville. A completely normal transport.”

“So we’re helping people oppressed by Hurston Dynamics. Good… good,” Alaska paused for a moment, then summed up. “It’s just like a few hundred years ago, when the first victims of the Messer regime had to flee the UEE’s sphere of influence and sought refuge in Levski.”

Alaska seemed torn. The balance between helping people and illegal activities was a fine line, a path on the edge of legality.

But I was tense too. Marrick claimed that human smuggling had been tested. But could he be trusted? I didn’t know him. He was a former colleague of Pike’s at Hurston Security and had fled to Levski. What was he? A renegade or an informant? Pike trusted him—for now, so did I.

And then there was the message I had spread in Levski on Pike’s behalf. Marrick had responded. But was he the only one? What if Hurston Security had known all along and intercepted us not in Lorville, but later? On the flight. Or in Levski, to get to the people behind it.

They had caught me once before, let me escape from Klescher, only to secretly abandon me in the Daymar desert to die. Official channels were not their style.

A short time later, we landed in the Lorville hangar. By the time I reached the cargo hold, Pike and Alaska had already unloaded the containers from Everus Harbor.

“That’s what it’s like when you have employees,” Pike joked.

He entered a code. The cargo elevator door opened with a metallic roar, revealing four cryopods. I stepped inside hesitantly and stopped abruptly. Through the viewing windows of the pods, I could see people in cryosleep. I had thought it was a metaphor. But the plan was ingenious: during an inspection, the bioscanners would only register three people on board. However, it would be useless if Hurston Security knew about it.

We loaded two pods into the White Rabbit’s separate cargo hold and hid the others behind the food containers. Then we took off. Lorville shrank behind us, disappearing beneath the clouds. Only when the quantum drive started toward the Pyro jump point did I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Are we going to refuel at the Pyro Gateway?” Pike asked.

“No. With the guests on board, I don’t want to stop at any station in Stanton or Pyro. We’re flying through.”

Then the jump point into the Pyro system appeared before us. The anomaly swirled in the gas clouds like a living energy being.

“Hopefully everything will go well,” I said worriedly, furrowing my brow.

“Ever had any problems on your cargo flights between Nyx, Pyro, and Stanton?” Pike asked.

“No, but you never know who’s waiting. Pirates… or Hurston Security informants.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Pike said hesitantly. “I’d better man one of the turrets.”

Pike stood up and went to the back.

“Alaska, which turret are you in?”

“The upper one.”

“OK, then I’ll go to the lower one.”

The door to the cockpit closed and I was alone. Alone with my thoughts and worries.

The jump to Pyro and the quantum flight through the lawless system began. The tension on board was palpable. No one left their post. Everyone waited for what was to come.

After a long flight, we reached the Nyx jump point. Dark clouds of gas, fragments of asteroids, and destroyed space stations surrounded us. In the distance, the wormhole glowed reddish. Alaska was the first to break the silence.

“No matter where you are in this system, it looks broken.”

The wormhole spat us out into the turquoise gas clouds of Nyx. We refueled at the gateway station. Suddenly, I picked up a strange signal—faint, barely perceptible. I calibrated the systems.

“I’m receiving a distress call,” I called out.

“Any additional information?” asked Alaska.

“No, just that it’s a distress call from someone in the People’s Alliance.”

“Then let’s go help. It’ll make a good impression,” recommended Pike.

After a short quantum flight, we reached a Caterpillar broken into several pieces. No signs of life, no energy. Pike and I disembarked to examine the wreckage up close. Alaska stayed in the turret for security.

I floated through dark, dead corridors—silent, empty, eerie. Where was the crew? Who had sent the distress call? Finally, I reached the server room.

“The ship is cold, without power,” I whispered cautiously. “The computers are dead too. Can’t retrieve any data.”

Suddenly, Pike spoke up. “I found a body.”

“That’s strange,” Alaska said with concern. “If the attack was just now, there should still be a glow or some energy readings on the ship. This has been floating around in space, destroyed, for a long time. It could be a trap. Come back on board quickly.”

An ambush by Hurston? I kept the thought to myself and quickly returned with Pike.

The uneasiness from the wreck still lingered in my bones when we reached Levski. Alaska was back here after a long time – and horrified by the changes: the continuous drill hole, the new freight elevators, the high volume of traffic.

“Zero, you know Levski from before. Do you think this is a good thing?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied thoughtfully. “It could be a good thing, but it could also be a bad thing.”

I told him about the residents’ divisions, their differing attitudes toward the UEE, and their fear of a takeover.

After dropping off the cryopods, we wandered through the old mining station. Pike was thrilled. Levski was the fulfillment of his dreams. He decided to settle here.

At the Grand Barter Market, we strolled from stall to stall. The lively background noise, the makeshift offers, the colorful hustle and bustle—it felt like freedom. We were in good spirits and enjoyed the little things. But suddenly, Pike’s voice changed. He whispered quietly to us.

“Don’t turn around. The guy back there. White hair, white beard. He’s been following us for a while. Keep walking and don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

At a stall selling fresh fruit, I picked up an apple and turned slowly. An older man. Not a typical bounty hunter. Not an obvious informant. Or was he?

As long as we stayed in public, he couldn’t harm us. I suggested we go to Café Musain. The babble of voices in the market gave way to the dull thump of music. We sat down in a secluded corner and talked about Levski, Brubacker, and our plans. Then Pike noticed that the man had followed us and was now sitting just a few feet away.

I pretended everything was normal. Then he suddenly stood at our table.

“I heard you call him Alaska.”

“So what? Who are you? What do you want from us?” I replied unkindly.

“It’s me, Zwiebus. Alaska… old butterfly catcher, don’t you recognize me?”

Alaska stared at him as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. For a moment, everything stood still.

“Is it really you?” Alaska finally stammered. “You’ve changed a lot… your hair, your beard… If you really are Zwiebus, tell me: where did we last see each other?”

“On GrimHex,” the man replied without hesitation. “On the stairs in the dilapidated wing. You needed your Jules Verne from ArcCorp because you wanted to remain incognito. Do you get it now? I even know your buddies: this one here is Zero and the one back there must be Pike.”

Then suddenly all hell broke loose. A wave of relief washed over Alaska. I also relaxed and leaned back in my chair.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)