Chapter 1

Space.

Behold, vast seas of distance. Oceans of stars and nebulae span past infinity in great streaks of purple, brilliances of red, and seas of blue, hazy in the distance as though merely a mirage. Planets, mere pinpricks of color from this distance, rise out of the crystal depths like islands, galaxies appearing like oasis. Quasars, seeming only centimeters apart from billions and billions of miles away are actually have hundreds of light years between them.

From this distance, light reaches a viewers eyes so slowly that one is viewing the universe only as it was hundreds of years ago. All in all, the universe is...

Big.

Carl Sagan once said, “Our ancestors worshiped the Sun, and they were not that foolish. It makes sense to revere the Sun and the stars, for we are their children.”

However, any true astronomer can tell you that stars cannot have children. And it is indeed foolish to worship great balls of flaming gas hot enough to melt planets. It just goes to show.

Now behold, a galaxy. This galaxy is a mere one in a quintillion chance occurrence, capable of creating solar systems able to calve planets capable of sustaining life. Each solar system light years away from the other, it seems an impossible distance. However, small shadows in the dark matter reveal the fact that man has indeed become capable of moving through the final frontier. Nutshell craft plow through the universe constantly, as men busy themselves with their grain of sand lives. Space craft traverse the distances between planets in mere days now.

Now behold, a ship. This ship may seem like any other ship at first. However, it may catch one's eye that this ship is indeed different by the fact that it is currently on fire.

Hector wrestled hopelessly with the controls once more. He knew that it was no good. It was more or less for the look of things and tradition. Thousands of pilots who were about to die in fiery explosions of shrapnel and fuel wrestled for control over whichever half of the spacecraft was left, saying things like, 'come on, baby, pull through!' It was just something that was done.

The rear half of the craft was gone now, melted by the incendiary torpedo that had just impacted the engine, courtesy of the Free Trader pirate starbridge that was now closing in for another attack. Incendiary torpedoes had been banned a few years ago, but, then again, when you were a Free Trader you didn't have to play by the rules.

“Come on, baby, pull through!” Hector's voice was lost amongst the blaring alarms and the roar of air rushing through the slowly widening hole in the side of the remnants of his ship. Many engineers would say that the hull should buckle at this point if this story were to retain any fragment of realism. However, this is impossible, for the hull buckled a few minutes ago, taking the engine and the half of the ship containing the only escape pod with it.

Hector knew that death was imminent, that this was the end, that there was no hope at all. He should have accepted the 20,000C price for mercy. After all, at least he'd be able to pawn his terrapin off at the nearest junk yard for a couple hundred credits and retire on Diva as a hobo, slowly soaking in the light from the radioactive sun and dying of cancer at age 40.

However, due to his pride and his ego, he thought he'd try to outrun the starbridge, hyperspace four systems away. It had seemed feasible at the time...

Oh well, no point in feeling bad now...

Suddenly, the command chair was sucked back away from the console at speeds hitherto thought incapable of a chair. Bolts from the chair's base shot out into deep space, where they would inevitable drift forever...

Hector stared blankly ahead as he quickly receded from the fiery mass. From here he wondered how he could have held out so long. The ship was now nothing more than a fireball hurtling through space on a collision course with Port Kane. Already Port Kane was little more than a few blinking lights in the distance...

Well Hector, how the hell did you get yourself into this one...

Hector would have continued along that depressing train of thought, but then he remembered that he had left the helmet of his vacsuit somewhere on the ship. He didn't panic, but he did wonder how painful it would be to have his head decompress...

Fortunately, he was spared this fate, as about this time a spray of shrapnel impacted with his body at high velocity, ripping it apart. Hector was surprised at how painful it was, and was pretty sure that he would prefer to have his head explode...

After the fight, while the emergency crews were putting out the flames on Port Kane, the pirate starbridge made a few sweeping patterns of the area, just to make sure that no escape pods had been engaged without his notification. There could be no survivors. His employers had made that quite clear. After all, when you were being paid 1.5 MC, it was best not to screw up. Anyone with that kind of money had...influence.

An androgynous voice crackled over onto the long-distance com-system: “Well?”

He could not help but feel nervous as he was addressed by the oddly tweaked voice. “Uhh...target destroyed. No survivors. I hit the target with the package in the engine. Little more than a fireball...” He said with a note of pride. Silence replied. “Sir?” He inquired. After a few seconds, a bing sounded from the console's main screen. He winced, expecting his ship to be blown up any second now by the feds, despite the almost comical looking array of jammers and foils he had rigged up on the ship. Instead he found that 2 MC had been added to his account. He smiled. Best not to ask, he thought as he punched the hyper drive into action. Time to lay low, maybe change my name and get a new I.D. Yeah, that sounded good.

He had the sneaking sensation that something very big and dangerous was going on, and he had best fold before the stakes got too high...

After a few minutes had passed, a brief flash of light, nearly imperceptible, briefly illuminated the side of a shadowy object flying quickly past the combat area. A strangely menacing purple aura surrounded the strange thing. However, strange things were common in space, such was the mystery of the cosmos.

Chapter 2

The first thing Hector realized was that he was in a very dark room. The second thing he realized was that he was still alive somehow. Upon realizing this, he sat bolt upright, thereby banging his head on something very hard. He winced in pain and his eyes watered as he rubbed the top of his head consolingly.

Hector did not know where he was, or what condition he was in. However, he did know enough not panic. He seemed to be okay, and he wasn't one to look a gift ship in the gunnel. He had no idea what the hell a gunnel was, but finding out wasn't on his immediate to-do list. Number one was finding out what the hell just happened and getting some light.

The rustling from the Velcro pockets of his jumpsuit seemed inordinately loud in the strange room he currently occupied. Nervous beads of sweat trickled down his face as he rummaged through the many pockets. He checked his breast pocket. Nothing. He checked his side pockets. A few wrappers, a 50C chit, but nothing else. His back pockets. His handkerchief. Damn.

Well, it looked like it was going to stay dark, or at least until he could get out of this god-forsaken hell-hole...

A nearby clang caught his attention. It had sounded like metal on metal. He fanned his arms out as far as he could, making an up-and-down sweeping motion in the hope of finding the item. After scooting around a bit, he determined that his chamber was larger than he first thought, though apparently only two and a half feet in height. At least he didn't have to worry about getting claustrophobic... It reminded him of spelunking...

He had been spelunking once in a cave on Hourglass during the cunjo mating season. He wasn't there to hunt, though he could constantly hear the high-pitched shriek of laser fire nearby as other parties shot into the woods. It had been extraordinarily dark, and with a lot of treacherous drop-offs and squeezes had probably not been the safest place to spelunk alone. However, his ego had told him he had to do it, so he had to comply.

He was brought out of his reminiscences by his leg hitting something small, causing it to skitter across the floor. Damn. Well, at least he had the general direction. He sighed in frustration, gritting his teeth together with unnecessary force. If only he could just...

“Here.” Said a small voice next to his ear. The small metal object fell into his hand suddenly. After a while, his brain began to register the events of the past few seconds. He jumped, or at least tried to as his head impacted against the hard surface. He cried out through clenched teeth as he clutched the tender spot on his head. In doing so, he sent the small object skittering across the floor once again. He began muttering in an incoherent voice as he scooted backwards as quickly as he could.

“Now look what you've done!” The small voice was right next to his ear once more, though Hector had not felt its presence or detected even the faintest of sounds. Could it be flying? Hector's mind raced furiously. Was it toying with him? Was it malign? It didn't seem to want to harm him. And if it did, Hector had the sneaking suspicion that it could dispatch him in an instant.

The small object once again fell into his hand. This time he didn't recoil. The voice was almost playful. “There we go! Now isn't that better?” Hector couldn't quite tell what was better. His head still hurt and he had no idea where the hell he was, he had just died (and was wondering how this had been changed) , and now strange beings were tormenting him. At least it was an improvement from his earlier situation. This sent a cold shudder down his spine as he recalled vividly the horrible sensation of his body being cut apart by shrapnel. And yet already it seemed as though it were only a memory, as though...

It had never happened...

This thought sent another series of shudders down his spine. He felt dizzy. He had just experienced his own death, and would prefer to know why he was not dead. He gagged slightly, the only thing keeping him from vomiting the fact that he had no food in his stomach. This puzzled him, for he had been eating a large ration before the attack...

“Oh, about that, when your entrails were ripped open, you stomach was too, and the contents spilled out into the void of space. We weren't able to put the junk back in.” The voice sounded like it was on the verge of bursting into laughter. Somehow Hector's stomach searched into its smallest pockets and crevices and managed to gather enough bile and phlegm to make a good sized puddle next to his head.

Hector wretched horribly for a while afterwards. “There there.” Said the voice consolingly. “Your back to normal. We fixed you up quite well. Not so much as a single scar.” Hector listened, frozen in horror at this strange voice's speech. Scars? What the hell was this thing talking about? He had just died! No amount of surgery could fix that!

“Well, it wasn't exactly surgery. You see, it's all quite complicated, really, and we don't have much time.” Hector's brain began to attend the same jumping-jack/summer-sault exercise program as his stomach. He felt dizzy. If this thing could read his thoughts, then it could definitely make his head explode or something. He had seen the old video-disc recordings of the 20th century. He had seen Scanners. It had been one of the few he had really enjoyed. However, it all seemed sick now that he was in such peril that a few minutes ago he would have laughed at.

Hector finally found his voice, though it sounded hoarse and it hurt to speak due to the recent gagging. He wouldn't admit to himself that he might be scared. Now was not a good time to be scared...

“So you can read my thoughts...” His voice echoed slightly in the strange chamber. He had the crazy idea of being in a library, and felt the urge to drop his voice to a whisper.

“Yes, yes I can.”

“And you can fly...”

“No, actually it is a form of short-ranged teleportation involving the harnessing of tachyons and forcing them to wrap around me.”

“Bull-shit.”

“Yes, you're right, but it sounded good, didn't it? It is impossible to describe the process in which I move. But just think of it as teleportation. Wow, they weren't kidding. You are good.” The voice betrayed no edge of sarcasm, and had a distinctly feminine aspect to it. Hector began to form a mental image. It had to be a girl, whatever it was.

Hector's mind raced. What the hell was this thing? Where the hell was he? What the hell was the object in his hand? What the hell was he doing still alive? What the hell?

“Well, I know you must have a lot of questions to ask,” Said the voice. The playful aspect was lost, and it gained an almost nervous edge. “but I think it would be best if we left those questions for later.”

Hector was about to reply smartly, but then the floor gave way under him.

Chapter 3

Hector gasped in surprise as the floor under him gave way quickly, causing him to fall. He didn't know why he should be surprised. Considering the recent turns of events, this was a step up.

On his way down, he hit his back on something hard. He gasped once more, this time in pain, and only by this was he saved from getting the wind knocked out of him upon hitting the floor. He lay there groaning for a couple of seconds before opening his eyes.

Hector blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the seemingly harsh light. He was on the verge of wretching once more, but managed to quell his over-active stomach. His mental assessment was interrupted as a gruff voice with an Auroran inflection stated the obvious.

“Ho, you're in deep trouble, matey.” Soon he came to realize that he was on the floor, at this man's feet. The man apparently had a weapon, though his eyes were still blurred. Hector sighed and prepared to do a rolling kangaroo kick into the man's privates, a move which he had had lots of practice with in the past.

However, right about then something in his right hand began to buzz annoyingly. This troubled him to hesitate. This could have cost him, but the tall Auroran above him apparently also noticed the buzzing.

Then Hector remembered the strange, small metal object. His right hand suddenly began to hurt a lot, as though he had been clutching a sharp piece of metal. At this thought his first impulse was to drive the object hard into the man's stomach. However, as he opened his hand, he realized why this would have been a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Several screams erupted from nearby. Hector now realized that there were many people around him, and now all of them were trying to crawl over each other to get away. The Auroran dropped his weapon, which turned out to be a high-voltage stun baton, capable of killing if necessary. It clattered to the floor.

Hector's first impulse was to hide the thing. “'s my watch. Kind of a joke, really...” He said half-heartedly in an attempt to save. However, the screams had now spread to a large area. The Auroran was now somewhere off in the distance. Sighing, Hector stood up.

He put the small object back into his pocket and glanced around the area. He was shaking nervously, but tried to play it cool. Apparently he was in a large metal room. Matrix steel crates were stacked against one of the walls. A very large door was on the wall in front of him, with a few smaller doors on the wall opposite.

“What the hell just happened?” He asked to no one in particular.

“Well, to me it looks like you fell out of the bottom of this ship, fell, rolled over here, almost got captured, scared everyone off, got up and asked 'What the hell just happened?'” The voice had the amused/playful aspect once more. It sounded like it was about to give a girlish laugh. Somehow Hector thought that this would be very disturbing.

“How did you like my present?” This time it did give a girlish laugh, though there was nothing funny about the Synapse grenade currently buzzing in his pocket.

“Charming. You do know those were banned in the anti-synapse weapon treaty of Sol twenty years ago, right? Because they could maybe blow up this entire building?” He hated using an angry tone, but he had just taken too much. Every man has there breaking point. Hector was no exception.

He rubbed his mouth nervously, shaking. He wanted to throw up again, but right then his stomach began growling. “Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's get rid of this thing.” He chucked the object into a nearby waste-paper basket.

He moved over to the only ship in the cargo bay, a heavy shuttle parked near the entrance with the cargo bay door still down. He entered, not really caring what the owner thought. After all, he was pretty sure that after what he had endured, he deserved a little indulgence, even if the indulgence was just...

“Space rations. Fill you up and give you all of those nutrients you lose when piloting your ship through space.” Hector read off the label. From his experience, space rations were the equivalent of a few vitamin tablets, a nearly tasteless card-thin slice of meatloaf, and some beverage powder. Hector couldn't help but reflect bitterly on his thoughts in the previous paragraph...

Hector chewed thoughtfully on the piece of meat. It tasted very good to him. Maybe because he was starving to death. He swallowed the pills, savoring the small amount of sugar or salt that coated the outside of each one. He found a coolant leak in wall.

Experience had taught him a few tricks. He opened the vacu-sealed drink mix pouch and filled it with the coolant, shaking it once it was filled. He drank the fruity tasting crap. Once he was done, he seated himself on the top of a crate, not quite feeling up to taking the commander's seat near the front of the vessel.

“We need to go, if you are done with you elegant meal here. After all, we are not out of danger yet. Please, can we go?”

Hector grinned, laying back onto the crate. It wasn't comfortable, and he felt pain erupt from the tender spot where his back had hit the floor very hard. “No. Now you will answer my questions.”

“Well, make them quick...” The voice had once again gained a nervous, almost frightened accent.

Hector grinned, feeling that he was vaguely in control once more. Being in control was important to his ego, which hadn't been helped by getting killed, falling without grace, and almost getting the crap beat out of him. “Two things.” He continued. “What are you, and why am I still alive?”