As a result, we feel every g-force of Otho’s skilled maneuvers.
Life support is set to a minimum for the same reason – and that means the air is thin in this cockpit. I take careful breaths as our Reaver dances around a hurtling asteroid. I can see flashes of white in front of us – barely visible through the flying maelstrom of rock and debris.
“I’m picking up something…” Otho takes his eyes off his tracking scanner – instead glancing at the external sensors that detect powerful energy sources ahead.
The distraction costs us sorely. Suddenly, we’re hit.
Hard.
The Reaver tumbles through the air, spinning out of control.
It had all happened in an instant. A rock the size of hover-car punched right through our shields – hitting our vessel like a missile.
Alarms instantly sound out. There’s a deafening crack as the entire side of the ship crumples inward. Behind me, Lazar is thrown out of his gunnery station – his restraints snapping under the pressure.
I glance behind me – and for a moment, I see the emptiness of space through the hole punched in our hull.
The AI repair systems seal off the hole – filling it with hardening foam that our repair bots will later replace with rebuilt alloy.
Behind me, lying on the deck, I sense that Lazar is alive. His aura is stunned, but determined in my mind.
“Back to your position!” I bark at him – and Lazar doesn’t think; he just acts.
My battle-brother moves by instinct, returning to his seat and grabbing the controls. He fires out lances of Orb-Beam at the other oncoming asteroids – still aiming true from his damaged gunnery station. With faultless precision, he cuts down the next asteroid a mere instant before it ends us.
Otho remains cold as a glacier at the helm – thrusting our Reaver forward. Finally, we break through the storm to a pocket of empty space.
Now, there’s one huge moon looming before us – or an asteroid practically as large as a moon, floating through space spun by the momentum of its own enormous gravity.
The three Scorp eggsacs we’d been pursuing are ahead, veering towards the semi-moon.
Glancing at my sensors, I see that the surface of this moon has dozens of mining camps being set up across it.
Of course. It’s as if those mindless eggsacs know which planets will be occupied. That’s why they’re drawn there.
If any of those eggsacs land, Scorp will pour out of them like wriggling, snapping, red-eyed death. The creatures will cut down anybody on that asteroid – miners, underequipped security officers, or personnel and staff.
“Gods! My sensors are off the charts!”
Otho isn’t one for empty statements. I don’t let myself take my fingers off the trigger of my Orb-Beam for a second – but I glance at the scanner, which reads the layout of the system ahead.
My eyes widen.
Otho isn’t wrong. There’s a source of Orb-Material ahead that’s larger than any I’ve ever seen.
But now is not the time.
“Eyes forward!” I bark – and Otho instantly refocuses.
He pilots us in closer, the controls gripped tight in his skillful hands.
His skills are focused on flying – but he’s distracted by what he saw on the sensors.
“If those readings are right, than this asteroid yields the richest Orb-Mine I’ve ever seen.”
I narrow my eyes.
No wonder the Scorp came here. If there’s one thing that draws them more reliably than humanoid life on a helpless world, it’s the Orbs.
Scorp are drawn to sources of Orb like moths are drawn to a flame. It’s where they find the source to grow more eggsac ships; but also its as if they convene with any Orbs they find.
As if they worship them – or the Orb fills the mindless void between the red eyes of those deadly Scorp.
I shake my head. That’s a horror story – not fact.
One truth remains, though. This asteroid contains so much Orb-Material that the Scorp eggsacs could sense it from two systems away.
I frown, and bark: “Take them out.”
Those eggsacs are filled with death – but until they land, the terror is a nightmare rather than a waking threat.
I tighten my grip on the triggers of my Orb-Beam and fire.
Carefully targeted lances of black-blue energy spear out, and with each of them I slice open the first eggsac like I’m carving a ripe jumba fruit.
Green, chitinous bodies pour out of the wounds I cut – tumbling into space.
Scorp – still dormant in their life-sacs.
Lazar joins me in firing, and the Scorp are picked apart.
The eggsacs are the real danger, but each of those Scorp must be destroyed. Somehow, they can live without air – and should they miraculously survive reentry, could still pose a threat to the humans down below.
I cut through them, one by one. Revulsion floods my mind as I slice apart the tumbling, flailing creatures.
Scorp are beyond wrong. An obscene mishmash of human, insect and reptile. A species that should not exist.
Like mine, Lazar’s aura hardens as he massacres the Scorp.
Within seconds, they’re all gone – and, down below, the miners on that asteroid had no idea how close they came to death.
2
Natali
I wake up, groaning. I was woken once again by the metallic clack of the Sentinels moving around outside.
I know the noise should have been a comfort to me. The robotic Sentinels keep me safe at night – safe from the many dangers of Marn.
But safe means controlled, captive, and always waiting.
I’ve been waiting here for as long as I can remember. For my entire childhood, my father had always made promises of a bright future far from this corrupt, opportunistic world. He’s always painted these grandiose visions of what’ll happen when ‘things come together.’
They’re like giving a glimpse of the blue sky to a bird raised in a gilded cage. I’ve waited my whole life for ‘things to come together’ for my father.
I bite my lip, tossing in my sheets. He’s always promised to take me out there
