CHAPTER 2

Eden Space/Largo Quadrant/Pearly System - Year 31,721 - Day 290

Orbital Pearl

That feeling you get when your stomach hits the floor because you learned something dreadful is a reality. That hit me hard. I knew better than to mope or cry or complain. I dove into the recorded history of Gee Oland with determination to relearn my past.

Mother Eden used me as a weapon of war for a few thousand years. I climbed the ranks, reset, and climbed again. Sometimes I became an officer again, sometimes enlisted. My rank changed based on the needs of Eden. Eventually, someone felt bad for me and my fellow Immortals. We were a tool. A resharpened, recast, and reused weapon of war that saw only an endless loop of violent deaths.

Those of us who made it to the point where we were ejected from Mother Eden’s forces became the fortunate ones. We hunted for a cure to our affliction. The problem was, no one could find one, and more importantly, no one cared.

Why bother fixing one tiny segment of society. Trillions of humans lived without the marker problem, growing older - while staying young - without issue. At one point there was a collection page to donate to, the money spent by useless scientists to no avail. Hope faded and the last version of me became a lame ass bartender.

I checked my account. A measly twelve E-coins flickered across my forearm screen. I palmed my face sliding my hands down my cheeks in disgust. My smooth skin would be sprouting stubble here soon, the need to freshly shave long since gone.

I stood in my tiny one bedroom shuttle ship, sputtering my lips in frustration.

The interior of my small common space was all black, a theme I indulged in. The mini-room was built to fold up so you could swap uses as needed. A lamp stuck out of a wall, illuminating the gloomy space. A viewscreen rested away from a comfy couch, and a coffee table popped out of the floor that scattered documents rested on.

So much happened, so much more to discover. I have weapons, a ship, and the skills to dig myself out of poverty. Let’s just hope the old me didn’t hawk my means to earn.

When I left the cushion, the couch automatically folded and I opened a side wall. A long rifle with a scope rested on hooks. The black casing gave the carbine a sleek look, the weapon as dark as the void itself. A modern optical mounted atop the projectile weapon.

Were there better options for a veteran like me? Yeah for sure.

“Darcy, that’s an interesting name,” I said, running my thumb over the laser-engraved letters on the buttstock. “We can be friends.”

Below the projectile carbine, a set of high impact energy beamers rested. These dual pistols were also black, fitting in with my armor theme. The weapons were only a foot long, weighed a good ten pounds each, and were the simplest of the advanced weapons. Squeeze the trigger, discharge the compressed energy - in this case hydrogen - for about thirty short bursts, and hope you didn’t need to fire again until it recharged from the environment or was reloaded.

A plasma shotgun rested at the bottom, a standard tried and true ‘melt the enemy when they get in your face’ weapon. I picked each one up, feeling the natural reaction from their proximity. The trained soldier in me cycled through their safeties, taking them from at ease, to semi-ready, to at the ready.

I huffed in a large lungful of recycled air. A happiness washed through me, something akin to feeling at home.

There was only one way forward. Victory. I’ll get a bigger ship, some armor, and turn this life around. I’ve been a pussy, hiding while hoping the others would find the cure. Those days are over. Time to return to my xeno slayer ways.

“Ship, what did you name yourself?” I asked.

“Anti-AI laws prevent ships from naming themselves beyond their nomenclature. I am XP6 Shuttle 22413329. You commonly refer to me as Six, which I am allowed to respond to,” the disembodied feminine voice said.

While I had caught up on a lot about what transpired since my first rejuvenation, I most certainly didn’t know everything. If there were anti-AI laws, they were there for a reason.

In Eden I trust.

The ship’s vox had a certain tantalizing tease to it. “Are you set to sultry?”

“Correct.”

“Turn sultry off. Fuck, last me was depressing. We can fix that though. Time to become a winner again.”

“I have videos of you bringing plenty of women aboard this ship. The results would say you finish first. Ergo, you’re the winner,” the ship sassed.

“Six… I swear. I,” I paused, walking into the tiny compartment that contained the captain’s seat. Inside the station was a chair, three monitors, pedals, and a two handed controller. I wiggled my way around the side of the seat and plopped down. “I feel like I’m in a good mood. Tell me, is my mercenary license still valid?”

“Yes, the Eden Collective has yet to rescind any license from a retiree of ‘The Immortals’ unit. Mother Eden loves her most coveted children. None more so than the titled ‘Son of Eden.’”

My left eyebrow raised at this. It seemed rehearsed and… lame. I tapped on the screens, immediately receiving a ping and a message.

Docking Fee: 2.3 E-coins. Next increase in three hours.

I hit the ‘x’ option, not wanting to pay it and undock yet. I needed a mission and a purpose. I had no job, no family, and a ship only capable of holding a few people at most. I needed something to do, a nice and easy start to -

“Oh, hello there,” I said, seeing an option to recover a derelict.

Mission: Find Derelict TRJ 22A334Z.

Cause of Stranding: Unknown.

Location of Stranding: Largo Quadrant/Opelia System

Hull Size: 18’ long, 10’ tall, 30’ wide.

Crew: Family of 3.

Reward: 1000 E-coins for the ship and 100 per survivor 10 per corpse.

Issued by: Jex Corp.

Currently Assigned to: Unassigned.

Requirement to Accept: N/A.

Bonus upon Acceptance: N/A.

“What do you think, Six?” I asked, liking the mission. “Your honest opinion please.”