Last Hope they called it. For a good reason. The vast orbital mining complex was in the middle of nowhere. And when one was talking about space, that was saying something. It was a relic from before the Liberation War. It was capable of producing enough raw ores to put to shame everything the United Republics could construct. But that was not why Donovan Rex had taken the post of head of security.

It was because the bloody thing was in the middle of nowhere at the fringe of known space. The nearest no-void transition point was two months away. Bloody two months, spent in travel through real-space. That placed Last Hope outside of any reasonable supply line, making it as strategically valuable as a damaged fighter engine.

No wonder the Third Terran Empire had used automated cargo hauliers for it, before and even during the war. The AI operated crafts were found neatly lined and powered down, waiting to be loaded at the vast docking bays. However, with no personnel to operate the complex, their task was impossible to complete. It had taken the UR nearly a hundred years to restart the main systems, drilling lasers and gravitational lifts, and continue to mine the large planet beneath Last Hope. That meant that only a handful of the hauliers were recharged, simply because there was no need for the others.

Jump two hundred years and the complex was operating at half-capacity. A fleet of massive ships docked each week to take iron, copper, bauxite, titanium and tons of scandium that were drilled from the dead world and what was left of its moons and asteroid field. Thousands of metric tons were mined daily and it was Donovan’s task to make sure the inhabitants of Last Hope did not suffer from sticky fingers syndrome. Actually, it was the task of his subordinates, but he felt all the weight fell on his shoulders.

“I’m just saying, there’s a good couple of thousand of the damned things. Retrofit them and you have a fleet to rival the Consortium or the Khanate.” Donovan rolled his eyes at Zoë’s latest grand idea.

“Second officer Kurtz. First of all, why are you not in uniform. This is an official investigation.” He said, resigned to hear her excuse this time and do nothing about it.

“What do you mean chief? I’m in uniform.” The eager girl flashed him a playful smile.

“I am talking about that moth-eaten piece of junk you have over your uniform.” He stopped and looked her square in the eyes.

“It’s my lucky jacket. Do you like it?” She stopped and made a little spin so that he could have a good look at her.

Her polymer beige combat plate left little to the imagination, and he had to remind himself that she was his subordinate. Besides, Monic would roast his nuts over a forge fire if she so much as suspected him of thinking of cheating on her.

“I don’t recall it being a part of the standard gear.” He gave up with a sigh, seeing her smile, and consulted the holo-map on his wrist. “Let’s get a move on. We have plenty of ground to cover.”

“And second of all, that’s a really stupid idea.”

“Why?” Zoë looked at him like a wounded puppy.

“Those junk buckets are AI operated cargo hauliers. It’s not worth the investment.” He sighed.

“What for?”

“Think about it second officer. The bloody things are not sealed, because the ore does not need air or temperature control. It only needs to be secured in place. On top of that they use Hitori-pattern engines and those require the vacuum of space to cool or they go critical and make a big boom, do you get it now?” He turned away as soon as disappointment entered her bright eyes.

Unlike his dark grey and tired orbs, hers were light green and full of life. Give it a few months and she will have the same dead-look as the other members of the security team. It was almost enough to put a smile on Donovan’s face.

The poor thing had arrived a month ago with the last supply run. From the moment her foot stepped on his station, she had been a ball of excitement and energy. Her skin was yet to lose its copper tan, but given time, it would be the same dirty grey as that of everyone else. The girl had the patented short cut hair, which spoke volumes to him. The poor creature was fresh out of the Academy and to have her first posting at Last Hope, meant she had managed to piss more than one person back home.

Apparently, the brass had thought a single woman equalled an entire twenty-person unit and had labelled her “reinforcements”. Donovan had to correct himself. It was more than he had expected actually. He had only requested more staff to reduce the work schedule, nothing more. He had three thousand miners, seven hundred technicians and operators of the complex and a hundred scientists and archaeologists to look after. And someone on the Council had thought that two-hundred and fifty guards were enough.

Well, in all honesty, they were enough if they worked extended twenty-hour shifts without a free day. Donovan had to admit, that there was not much for them to do anyway. Because there was nothing worth stealing or fighting over in this place. All his guys had to do was to stop drunken fights or fights caused because the eggheads and miners had gotten into a debate.

“Hey chief, what do you think Dr Werner and the other eggheads have found in the east wing?” Zoë broke the comfortable silence of their walk.

“It’s not for us to wonder such things. We go there, to make sure they don’t break anything.” Donovan stopped again and gave her his best commanding gaze. “And don’t call them eggheads. They are archaeologists. Professors, doctors and whatnot, which means their asses alone are way smarter than you.”

“Ok. Sorry. Jeez.” The girl rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

They walked a few hundred meters through decrepit corridors, covered in mould, puddles of coolant, leaking from the aged pipes and air moisture and lit by flood lamps brought over by the archaeological team. Donovan felt his ire rise as Zoë spoke again. The girl was not happy with simply walking and keeping her mouth shut.

“When you think about it, about two-thirds of the station is a complete unknown.”

“Get to the point Kurtz.” He stopped himself from sighing before it became a habit, triggered by her opening her mouth.

“I’m just saying, Last Hope has a total spread area of over seventeen thousand square kilometres. And so far, we’ve explored six hundred square kilometres. Most of which are loading hangers, production lines, foundries and smelting facilities.” She droned on, eager to test his patience.

“So? You’ve read the official file. Big deal.”

“I’m getting there, jeez.” Zoë threw her arms out to encompass the walls. “Most of the corridors are caved in. Entire sections are opened or breached and the two largest hangers are completely unreachable unless you fancy a good old space-walk.” She paused to take a big breath and prepare for the finale of her theory.

“This entire complex was created by the Third Terran Empire over six hundred years ago and despite its decrepit state, it is functional. So why did the UR think it a good idea to send just a handful of eggheads… Pardon, archaeologists. I mean there is so much to learn here…”

“Are you for real?!” Donovan exclaimed in utter bewilderment. “Second officer Zoë Kurtz, you are just a grunt. You only need to follow orders and stick to the security manual.”

He stopped and pushed her against the wall. With one swift movement, he disabled her comm feed and his own.

“Since thinking is a big problem for you, I’ll spell it for you.” He barked at her. “Words like those you just said will land you in Neverok’s office for interrogation as Imperial sympathizer. The Empire was the worst enemy and an oppressor of free will, do you understand?”

The girl nodded, her face turning pale and fear to creep in her eyes. She was not that dumb after all, Donovan thought. As long as she knew not to cross paths with the Council’s dog, she would be fine.

“As to the why of your question.” He let go of her and adjusted his chest plates before continuing. “It’s money. The UR does not have the credits to spare, not while the arms race with both the Khanate and Jubal Consortium continues.”

He turned on his comm feedback on and the implant in his inner ear burst into life.

“Chief, do you copy?” Donovan heard Felix’s bored baritone.

“Yeh. I copy.”

“We lost your signal for a moment there, chief.” The communication’s officer responded with his usual phlegmatic tone.

“I noticed. Could have been a system glitch. However, I’ll mark the area for the techs to come and have a look at it, just in case.”

“It’s your call, chief. Control out.” With that, the connection with the command centre was placed on standby.

Donovan motioned for Zoë to turn her comms back on and to follow him. He was grateful that she kept her mouth shut for the rest of the way.

Dr Virginia Werner passed around the table used as an onsite test lab to calm her nerves. She was angry, frustrated and outraged. Because of the damned regulations, she had to waste time waiting for a security detail to arrive and keep an eye on her. The hour and half her team were forced to sit and do nothing, could have been spent clearing the last of the debris blocking the entry point.

If what Dr Kruger had managed to recover from the damaged data maps and info caches was correct, there was supposed to be a large storage or research area just three meters away from her. Again, she was unfair to the efforts and skill of the old man’s team. He might be a thorn in her side, but he was one of the best crypto-analysists she had ever worked with.

At least he was far better company than the grunts. Virginia was yet to come to a decision if Commander Rex was a smart person or a complete idiot. She was sure he understood what the eggheads, as the other of his kind referred to her and her team were doing on Last Hope. But he was just too good at faking ignorance or he simply lacked any ambition.

“Dr Werner, they are here.” One of the juniors came from the junction leading to the collapsed section.

“Finally. It is about time.” She placed a pair of delicate data glasses over her eyes.

They were not as good as the ocular implants used by most of the junior researchers, but she had used them for the last twenty years on the field. Not that anyone who saw her would guess she was nearing forty-six. Her body was as fit as it was when she had been twenty and there was not a single wrinkle on her ebony skin. It was all thanks to the genetic treatments her post had given her access to. With them, she had managed to stop the clock of age for at least a couple more decades.

As Virginia crossed the junction, to the antechamber attached to this section, she made sure her marble white hair was still kept in the perfect ponytail she had arranged it in the morning. Once she rounded the corner, she saw the grunts. As expected, Donovan Rex was leading them. He had two more men with him and a woman, that foolish girl with the strange and stupid theories. Virginia could not be bothered to remember her name. But overall, she was glad to see the Head of Security share her opinion about the regulations.

If he had followed the book, he should have brought at least two squads, eight people, each. Instead, Donovan had half of one and if the bored looks stapled on their faces were any indication, they were eager to be somewhere else.

“Chief.” Virginia nodded slightly at the large man, trying to keep her face neutral.

“Doctor.” He returned the gesture and motioned for the corridor she had come from. “Shall we get this over with.”

“Prime the laser.” She shouted at the technician manning the console next to the large tripod which supported the man-sized neodymium vaporization cutter.

A few taps and the two mobile generators roared to life, feeding the machine the power it needed for clearing the last of the collapsed wall, door and who knew what else. Cutting through the three meters of debris would take just five minutes. Virginia could not hide her prideful smile, knowing that this efficiency was only because of her planning and preparation.

Two minutes in and warning lights flared up in the adjacent rooms and corridors. Her tap into the security feed worked as expected and she heard the operator’s frantic screams at the same time as Donovan.

“Chief! Stop! The entire board lit like a fireworks expo! I have twenty different warnings triggered in your area!”

“Shut it off!” The Head of Security barked at the technician at the same time Virginia shouted the same order.

A second later and the machine was powered off, however, that did not stop the warning lights, nor the chatter she was hearing over the comms.

“Felix, what is going on?” Donovan demanded.

“Damned if I know! It’s all in that damned imperial language! I’ll need at least an hour to translate it all!” A terse response came from the other end of the feed.

“Dr Kruger, it’s Dr Werner! We have an emergency situation! Provide assistance to the Security techs at once!” Virginia used the personal channel she had been provided with from her colleague.

She was aware this would reveal she had illegally tapped into the security network, but that would be a problem to deal with after the more immediate one was sorted. At the same time, she saw the grunts take cover where they could and aim their Gauss pistols at what was left of the debris.

“Bloody hell, get out of there Virginia!” Donavan grabbed her and almost threw her around the corner of the corridor.

“Why? What...” She was confused for the first time. It took her a moment to notice, but she could no longer hear the operator, Felix.

“Commodore Alexei Neverok has triggered Article 17. All channels are now restricted. Including your tap.” The man’s eyes were alive for the first time since she met him and he was definitely angry with her.

“I only…” She wanted to protest but was cut off.

“Will discuss this later. Keep your team back, Control has confirmed movement on the other side.

Zoë felt her hand tremble as she kept her aim at the dark opening in front of her. The fact she had been authorised to use the gauss pistol, instead of the kinetic stop rifle, was enough to tell her that something really bad was happening. This was her first real combat situation and her system was flooded with adrenalin and enriched oxygen from her implants.

“You got to breathe, girl.” She heard Peter Lemetal’s confident voice from behind her. “The first release can be overwhelming.”

The man had been a professional soldier before switching his career path and joining the mining complex’s security force. If she had to guess, he had taken position behind her, because she was the only rooky on the team. A few deep breaths and her heart-rate slowed down and her mind cleared.

“Thanks.” Zoë muttered, unwilling to openly show she had almost lost it.

“A bit early for that, but…” A small metallic cylinder bounced off the floor interrupting Peter’s words. “Shit! Grenade!” He roared at the top of his lungs and dived to the side.

Zoë was slow to react trying to process the word. It was the most common mistake a rooky could make. The cylinder exploded in a ball of light. She was glad she had worn her lucky jacket. It had been a flash-grenade. But it also meant she was blind, deaf and completely disorientated for the next minute… Wrong! Damn it, girl, that’s about civilians. She cursed herself, as her cerebral implants triggered and released a large dose of drugs to counter the effect of the grenade.

Remember your training. She told herself.

“Roll to the side, count to ten and blink a few times to clear your vision. The hearing can wait. Panic and you will die.” The words of her instructor at the Academy rang through her mind.

Her vision returned just in time to see Hunter’s head explode in a cloud of red mist. The man had died so fast, his body kept the pistol aimed for a couple of seconds before sliding to the ground. A man wearing strange combat armour. It was similar to hers but more metallic and thicker. It was dark bronze in colour and was complemented with a helmet with an artificial crystal helmet covering the front plate. Her eyes stopped for a moment on the strange symbol painted in dark red on the left plate covering his chest. It resembled two wings coming from a single small orb, the right one was mechanical, a simplistic rendition of a curved cog, while the left one was that of some animal and a large asterisk was nested between the wings.

As quickly as they had taken in this new figure, Zoë’s eyes fell on the large combat rifle in the man’s hands. It was levelled at her. Without thinking she jumped forward, seeking the cover of the boring machine the eggheads had used. It was the only thing sturdy enough near her that could take a shot or two. Because she recognised a Ripper pattern assault rifle when she saw one. The bloody thing was an unholy abomination of gauss and plasma technology, which used both solid and energy projectiles to destroy anyone it was aimed at.

The ground where she stood a moment ago exploded and three small craters dotted the dense concrete floor. With the corner of her eye, she saw Peter’s pistol flash silver accompanied by the boom of the iridium bullet shot from it. The projectile caught the enemy, because this was what the strange man was right now, in the shoulder. It dented the armour plate and clearly destroyed the paint, but for all that it only made the man take a step back to keep his balance.

“Damn it, that’s boron nitride plating.” Zoë cursed as the realisation came to her. “Chief, we can’t do shit against that guy without proper fermium slugs or a high-calibre gear!” She shouted.

“Shut it, Kurtz and fire!” Donovan barked at her and emphasised his command with a couple of shots. “We have to keep the bastard pinned!”

She saw Lemetal unfasten a concussion grenade from his belt and prepare to throw it. A plasma round from the enemy liquified the appendage without detonating the ordinance. The veteran dropped on the ground screaming. Zoë fired blindly from behind her cover, fighting the fear that had grabbed her heart and mind. Shouts and curses were coming from the people in the next room and the feed link, adding to the chaos.

“Dr Werner!” Quickly she tapped the micro control console on her wrist to open a channel to the leading egghead. “How do I discharge the laser?”

“What?! Who is this…” The doctor’s voice sounded distorted, but it might have been due to the panic that was setting in.

“Shoot, big laser. How?” Zoë couldn’t help giving the terse and overly rude answers. “Now doctor!”

A round hit one of the tripod’s legs, breaking it in half. The bulky machine lost its balance and twisted while falling. It was another small glimpse of luck, because now she could use the console without stepping from her cover. Well, as long as Donovan managed to keep the enemy busy, which was at best measured in seconds.

“Virginia! Give her the damned command line!” She heard the chief snap at the doctor over the feed.

This time the poor doctor was willing to comply. Not because of the chief’s words, but because the thin polymer bullet containing superheated plasma missed his head and found the wall near hers. Zoë however, was not willing to waste the moment. Hoping that her fingers would be able to type fast enough, she dropped her pistol and began the input.

Only two more letters were left, when she felt one of the barrels of the Ripper press against the top of her head. This poor turn of events had led to two things. First, she saw Donovan slowly back away, dragging Peter with him and keeping his gun trained at the enemy.

The second one felt more personal to Zoë, her cornea implant flashed a warning, informing her a feed channel connection had failed to be established. Since anyone who might want to talk to her could have overwritten the security protocols, it meant that the enemy had just made an attempt at communication. At the same time, the implant focused on the small disc left behind by Lemetal and most of all on the small yellow light that blinked on it.

“Oh… shit…” Zoë managed to mutter before the arc-emitter discharged its hundred-and-fifty-kilowatt battery.