I watched from the corner outside the market place. The busy traffic distracted me from my trip. I observed the dilapidated structures around me. I craned my neck in the air, examining similar buildings arc above me. This was because the designers of habitat 3091 designed it in a cylindrical shape. Here hundreds of crews came and went from the many Alliance habitats making up Dyson Sphere Alpha.

The wind rustled my threadbare clothes. The effects of weather could never be fully pinned down in the spinning habitat. I pulled my jacket closer, the cold of space never completely pushed aside.

The buildings overhead nearly touched the ones below them, the habitat was so dense. The entire 126 cubic kilometers of habitat housing sixty million bodies.

I shoved my way through the crowd towards an unsanitary building on the right side of the walkway. Dim LEDs lit up the entrance, which resembled a gapping mouth. A mouth into hell, I thought to myself numbly.

I looked both ways checking to see if there were any robotic looking figures, Chromes. Chromes were the Alliance’s soldiers, their armor made of polished chrome and designed to dehumanize the soldiers.

I caught a glimpse of a friend of mine, Irene, hanging around in the crowd. Irene was a quiet, sad girl who was in the depths of depression. I befriended her when I first arrived in 3091, and I thought her a decent sort, if a little skittish.

As none were in sight, I ducked into the gapping mouth.

I entered a dim storehouse. Inside dozens of metal crates stacked on top of each other created a labyrinth which was almost impossible to navigate. Impossible to anyone but me.

I went on my hands and knees and observed the dusty ground. There I saw my old footprints from yesterday, just barely visible. I crawled forward, into one of three entrances. From there, I hit a container on my right. I hit a button square on, and a row of lights went straight ahead. I followed the lights, and then a few steps latter I turned into another dark corridor.

Contrary to first impressions, it was my goal to keep away from the lights. I strung them up in such a way so that a person in a corridor thought to keep to the lane. Every lighted path led back to the beginning, defeating any attempt upon my stronghold.

Finally, I reached the end of the darkened path. A vault door stood between me and my destination. I pressed a non-descript part of the door. A screen projected itself into thin air. On it were the symbols 1-9. I moved my finger into the square of light where a 1 floated, then a 4. Next came 0, and 8, and a final 5.

The year my parents died. They were killed by chromes during a riot in habitat 3091. I never could forgive Magnusson for their death, and finally after 9 years of preparation the first piece of my revenge was in place.

The vault door opened. I entered, and the door closed behind me. LED lights switched on. A man laid on a metal operating table in the middle of the floor. He looked up at me. His face scruffy by the lack of shaving equipment. He wasn’t ancient, maybe early fifties with trimmed, greying hair, or used to be trimmed.

“Emma. Why do you keep coming back? I told you before, rescuing me was dangerous enough. Hiding me will get you a death sentence.” He said.

“I don’t care, even if they catch me. You still need some medical care until you can return back to the rebellion.” I answered in a determined voice.

“Why do you help me?” he asked, “I am a man wanted dead by the most powerful…being in the solar system.”

“Magnusson doesn’t know about this place.” I answered crisply.

The man conceded, “Alright, I give up. Did you really sneak more food out here?”

“Yes, and I will force it down your throat if I have to.” I replied, pulling a package out of my pocket.

He sat up on the table. I glanced at the bandage around his chest, the Chrome bullet still lodged in his chest. It was a wonder he had lived this long with the limited medication I gave him.

I put the package in his hand, “Your welcome.”

“I’m obliged.” He plucked the lid off the top and then inserted it into his mouth. After sucking the nutrient-rich paste through the acupuncture, he wadded up the package into a ball and then tossed it at a waste basket. It landed on top of dozens of its other fallen comrades and then fell onto the accumulating pile of trash below the can.

A question lodged in my throat. I wondered if I would utter it, unlike the dozens of times before now. Now or never, my mind decided.

“Mr. Parker, when you go off to return to the rebellion, will you take me with you?” I asked as if I knew the answer. I didn’t really, but I applied pressure nonetheless.

He looked at me for a few seconds, and then said, “It depends. You see, Emma. War is difficult. You have to fight to stay alive.” He looked down at his bloody bandage to stress his point.

“I couldn’t throw the girl who has kept me alive for the last two months into the fire of war and expect her to survive. I would rather die, than be responsible for my savior’s death. In other words, I rather not.” He uttered the last words with infinity gravity.

“But if the Alliance finds out that I had been helping you, they will raid the entire block I live on. If I get picked up by them…”

He considered for a moment, and then spat on the floor. His spittle was red. He gazed at it for a second, then sighed.

“In that light, I guess I’ll have to take you with me, as unadvised as that is.”

“Thank you.” The next part of my plan was executed now. All that was left was to reach the rebellion and leave habitat 3091 far behind.

Mr. Parker opened his mouth to elaborate further. He didn’t have a chance.

The vault door was blown inwards. I threw myself sideways. Once the smoke cleared I looked behind me. The operating table Mr. Parker sat on was gone, crushed behind the massive door.

The door crushed him. I felt my heart sink. The Alliance had discovered me, and now they just killed my ticket out. No, he wasn’t just a ticket out. He was a person who genuinely cared for my safety, and now was dead behind the door which kept enemies out.

“Freeze missy. I would like to say that an acquaintance of yours has finally squealed.” A Chrome walked out of the vacant doorway. His hands held an assault rifle pointed at me.

Three more chromes walked from behind him.

“It was a certain, Irene, I believe her name was. She told us about the dozens of hours you have spent here, and of all the cover-ups she made up for you. She was spared…” The Chrome paused for dramatic effect, “From her life. We will walk pass her body on the way out. Put your hands on your head now. No sudden moves.”

They out-maneuvered me. Now I was going to die like Irene.

“Don’t close your eyes, you have a journey ahead of you. Stay behind me. If you dart, you’ll get shoot.” I dutifully followed the chrome out of the vault. My eyes glanced back were Parker was crushed by the door.

“Keep moving.” I shuffled forward, leaving years of well laid plans behind me.