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There was a hiss, steam rose into my face, and the coffee bubbled into the cup. I took it out of the machine and sat down on a stool. Last day in Area 18. I was heading back to Levski—with my new Ironclad. I wouldn’t miss this hub or the city planet. OK, maybe I’d miss this coffee machine.

A loud pounding. Who in the Prophet’s name was knocking on my door? Pike? Zwiebus? I got up sluggishly and opened it. A guy with a shaved head glared at me.

“Twitch wants to talk to you,” he said in a commanding tone.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. This couldn’t mean anything good. I threw on a jacket and headed out.

Shortly afterward, I was on the balcony of Tecia “Twitch” Pacheco, the queen of ArcCorp’s underworld. She stood next to her chair, her back to me, her gaze lost in the endless canyons of skyscrapers. Without turning around, she said in a quiet, cynical tone:

“So you come into my city without checking in.”

Damn, how did she find out? The last time I was in ArcCorp, I didn’t visit her either.

“Word must have spread fast,” I muttered.

“Half the G-Loc Bar knows you’re here.”

Damn it, Ben. He’d called out my name across the bar. The question was, what did Twitch want? The last time we’d been in touch, I’d gone to see her to unofficially look for an apartment for Xine. She helped in exchange for a favor—what else? And this time?

Twitch got right to the point.

“You know I’m a fixer. I fix other people’s problems. Today, I’m fixing your financial problem. With your new Ironclad, you’re taking containers to Pyro.”

*

A few hours later, Pike, Zwiebus, and I were in the hangar. The Ironclad stood majestically before us. A stubborn colossus of steel, pipes, and wires—pure pragmatism in black and red.

“OK, guys. I want a traditional christening,” I explained. “Everyone gets a can of Rust. First, drink it all in one gulp, then throw the empty can at the ship. On my signal.”

“A ship is christened at the bow,” Zwiebus remarked.

We set off, walking the long way from the stern to the front. The ship was really big. Once we reached the bow, I handed out the cans. With a squeak, I opened the screw cap. Then I said solemnly:

“I christen you ‘Rusty Brick.’”

The strong alcohol burned as it flowed down my throat. I took a swing and threw. The can clattered against the hull. Pike and Zwiebus followed suit.

We went on board. Even though we’d already seen an Ironclad at Defense Con, it was impressive. Now it was my ship, my huge cargo hold, my endless possibilities, the reason I was broke. On Deck 4, we sat down in the owner’s cabin—my cabin. I proudly took my seat behind the desk; Pike sat on the sofa, and Zwiebus on the bed. It was freezing cold; frost was forming on our suits.

“I’m glad you’re joining me on the ‘Rusty Brick’s’ maiden flight,” I began the briefing. “During the handover, I was told there are problems with the life support system. We have to wear spacesuits and always keep a helmet with us.”

“The problems are definitely noticeable,” Pike laughed, wiping some ice off his thigh.

“The first shipment is pressurized ice,” Zwiebus added jokingly.

“Not quite. I’ve got a mission. We’re supposed to deliver cargo to Pyro—unofficially. At least the pay is good.”

“As long as it’s not drugs to Levski,” Zwiebus remarked.

“Let’s go!”

I clapped my hands and headed into the command module. Pike and Zwiebus went one deck down to Operations. The cockpit felt familiar; I’d flown a Drake Cutlass Black for a long time. I flipped the switches. The engines roared to life—and a red flashing light began to pulse.

“Pike,” I said slowly. “There’s an alarm flashing. Can you see anything?”

“No,” he growled. “The monitors aren’t showing any problems.”

A quick shrug. Whatever. Takeoff clearance. VTOL engines activated. The colossus shot upward. Wow, I hadn’t expected that. Impressive thrust—I wonder what it would be like fully loaded. We left the hangar. The illuminated skyscrapers came into view.

The ‘Rusty Brick’ climbed upward. A tremor shook the ship as I pushed the throttle forward. The massive engines propelled the colossus into the night sky. The lights of ArcCorp faded behind us. One last look from orbit at the planet’s clouds, then the quantum drive fired up.

“I’m setting optimal energy distribution,” Pike reported over the intercom.

A jolt—the colossus threw us out of the quantum drive. “Transferring Vehicle Command” flashed on all the monitors. Holy Prophet. A jolt. The command module separated from the cargo module.

“Shit, guys, the thing has undocked. Everything okay over there?”

“Yeah,” Zwiebus called out. “Everything’s fine.”

I steered the command module over the cargo bay and beamed into the operations room. Pike and Zwiebus waved.

“I’ll open the roof. See if the command module fits inside,” Pike suggested.

I carefully maneuvered into the open cargo hold. It fit—or so it seemed.

“Too tall,” Pike reported. “But other than that, it fits.”

“I’ll dock again. But we’re not taking on any more jobs. First, we’ll make sure we get to Levski safely.”

Without further incident, we reached the gas giant Crusader. At the Orison spaceport, we picked up several containers. Pike maneuvered them into the cargo hold using the front tractor beam, and Alaska positioned them in the right spot inside the cargo hold with the tractor beam. Fascinated, I walked around and watched.

Then we continued on our way. Pike took the helm, and I sat down in the operations room next to Zwiebus. What a great view. The roof of the cargo hold jutted out in front of the window like a long snout. It wouldn’t be half bad to pilot the ship from here, either.

We reached the jump point to Pyro. Outside the window, the wormhole looked like a voracious whirlpool. An almost menacing abyss in space and time, about to swallow us whole. We plunged in, glided through the tunnel, and were spat out on the other side into a sea of asteroid fragments.

Pike’s voice over the intercom.

“I’m jumping to the first available point.”

A short quantum flight, then a stop. In the distance, the star Pyro and brown gas clouds. Pike’s voice again.

“Uh, I don’t have any jump markers. I can’t plan a route either.”

We were stuck, stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

“The Colossus is glitching—or its navigation computer is.”

“What did they sell you there?” Zwiebus asked.

I flipped through the sales documents. Were there any other clues besides the faulty life support system that I’d overlooked?

“Hmm,” I replied. “It’s a pre-production model. That explains the affordable price. And probably the problems, too.”

“Typical Drake,” grumbled Zwiebus. “They’ll sell you something like that when they’re drunk.”

After some work on the electronics, the navigation computer was working again. Finally, we reached the Orbituary orbital station in the orbit of the planet Bloom.

Pike seemed to be in his element. He gave instructions with practiced ease.

“I’ll take the front tractor beam. Zwiebus, use the inner tractor beam to pass the containers to the cargo ramp. I’ll unload them.”

Pike hesitated briefly—then cleared his throat quietly.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to take charge.”

I laughed.

“It’s fine. Someone’s got to know what they’re doing.”

“I don’t.”

Even though Pike claimed he had no clue, he had the colossus under control. He’d make a fine first officer. Satisfied, I stood in the trash-strewn hangar and watched as the containers were expertly unloaded.

Once our mission was complete, we took off. I was sure Twitch would call on my services more often. The brief glimpse of Bloom’s cloudy planetary surface was breathtaking. A short while later, we found ourselves once again among asteroid fragments and the wreckage of old space stations. The approach to the wormhole leading to Nyx felt completely different than it did with the ‘White Rabbit.’ My Star Runner: fast and stealthy. The Colossus: slow and with an EM signature like a lighthouse. We didn’t go unnoticed.

Nevertheless, we reached the Nyx system without any problems and finally arrived at Levski. The approach to Delamar, the large asteroid in the Glaciem Ring—even Pike let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally home again. After landing, I had to head straight to Teach’s Ship Shop to have my Colossus repaired.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)