Life for the average inhabitant of the Banedog's Backyard was a constant struggle for survival. The station was a harsh and unforgiving place, where the strong preyed on the weak and every day was a battle. For the outlaws who called it home, the Banedog's Backyard was both a sanctuary and a prison—a place where they could live free from the laws of the galaxy, but where they were always one misstep away from death.
Rogue corpo agents, discarded by their employers, roamed the station's corridors, seeking purpose and revenge. Some had found a place among the gangs, while others lurked in the shadows, waiting for the chance to strike. Their presence added a layer of danger to an already perilous existence.
Bounty hunters and assassins plied their trade, taking contracts from the highest bidder and eliminating their targets with ruthless precision. Smugglers and thieves scurried through the station like rats, always on the lookout for their next score. In the Banedog's Backyard, loyalty was a rare commodity, and betrayal was a constant threat.
Ubel walked down the familiar streets of District III, Banedog’s Backyard. This part of the station had grown even more vibrant and chaotic since the last time he had set foot in it. His black coat and hair fluttered in the artificial wind. The neon lights reflected off his sunglasses, casting colorful shadows on his face and a kaleidoscope of colors on the reflective surfaces of towering buildings. Navigating the maze-like alleys and roads full of people and droids.
His steps were slow, almost hesitant, as if each stride pulled him deeper into the recesses of his memory. The air was thick with the hum of hovercrafts, flying cargo drones, and floating vehicles zipping through the airways above and the distant murmur of the city's endless chatter. But Ubel's mind was elsewhere, anchored in a time that seemed like yesterday.
He breathed heavily and sighed.
“Ahhh… the sweet smell of pollution and sin.”
Then he finally turned to a corner and there it was—the place that had once been a cornerstone of his past. The old diner where he and his friends used to gather. Where they had spent countless hours planning their next big score and shenanigans across the galaxy. Although he only went here when he was still behind a monitor, he could already smell the greasy yet comforting aroma of synth-burgers that he used to simulate.
And he thought he could see the familiar faces laughing, planning, living. But as he approached closer, his heart sank.
In its place stood a massive, high-tech court, surrounded by towering walls of transparent aluminum. The space was filled with the sounds of cheering crowds and the rapid, rhythmic thumping of a game in progress. Ubel’s eyes widened as he took in the scene: a cyberpunk version of volleyball.
The players moved with a speed and agility that seemed almost superhuman, enhanced by the biomechanical augmentations that were now commonplace. The smell of the burgers came from the food stands that waited for the audience and players to buy and satisfy their hunger.
Ubel stood at the edge of the court, watching in silence. The players seemed to defy gravity, their movements a blur of motion as they spiked and dove for the ball. The crowd around him cheered, their faces illuminated by the flickering lights of the court's holographic scoreboard.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of loss.
“Hey, you alright there, kid?” A voice broke through his thoughts. Ubel turned to see a young woman, her hair a cascade of bright blue dreadlocks, and eyes that glowed faintly with an internal light. She wore a sleek bodysuit adorned with glowing lines, clearly a player or at least heavily involved in the sport. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
“Yeah, just... remembering,” Ubel replied, offering a small, wistful smile.
“You don’t look like someone here for the game,” she observed, her eyes studying him curiously. “First time seeing cybervolley?”
"Maybe I have," Ubel replied, forcing a smile. "I used to come here a lot, back when this was a diner."
"A diner, huh?" She tilted her head, clearly trying to picture it. "Can't imagine this place serving burgers and fries. It's been a court for as long as I can remember are you sure you are not lost?"
"No… I am in the right place. But yeah... well, things change," Ubel said, his gaze drifting back to the game. "Sometimes faster than we'd like."
“Must’ve been a while ago,” she said sympathetically. “The city changes fast. Blink and you miss it. Did you come from another station?”
“Yeah, too fast sometimes. Mind if I watch for a bit?”
The woman nodded at his words, a knowing look in her eyes before returning to her game as she was called on by her team.
Ubel lingered for a moment longer, watching the game. The players moved with a grace and precision that was almost hypnotic, their bodies glowing with the soft light of their enhancements. The past and the present collided in his mind, creating a tapestry of memories and possibilities.
He found himself lost in thought. He remembered the faces of his old crew: their laughter, their plans, their dreams. They had all moved on, scattered to the winds of the universe. Somewhere he could never reach them again. But here he was, standing in a place that once held so much meaning, now transformed into something new and unfamiliar.
“I wonder what happened to them? How are they doing right now?” Ubel asked himself. “They would enjoy seeing the changes if they were here.”
With a final glance at the court, Ubel turned, feeling a bit lighter than he had in a long time. As he walked away, he felt a sense of peace.
But he was still interested to see more of the changes that happened at this station. He went to the tall and large pillar that connects this floor to others through the use of a large elevator. And he was met with crowds of people, either wanting to use the service or trade with the people that were using it. They were all being managed by an elevator crew.
It took him half an hour before he could get into one. Ubel stepped into the elevator along with more people carrying various goods or cargo, the doors closing behind them with a soft hiss. The interior was sleek and futuristic, with polished metal surfaces and glowing control panels. The service crew punched in the floor numbers, and the elevator began its ascent, smoothly carrying him upward through the towering structure of the station.
The familiar hum of machinery filled the small space as the elevator rose, carrying him higher and higher into the heart of the station. As he rode, he couldn’t help but marvel at the vastness of the structure surrounding him. Ubel pressed his face against the transparent wall. The vast cylindrical structure of the station stretched out before him, disappearing into the distance as far as the eye could see. He watched in awe as the station slowly rotated, the artificial gravity keeping everything firmly planted on the floor.
"This is incredible," Ubel whispered to himself, his breath fogging up the glass. "I had no idea it became this big."
He had seen space stations before, of course. Even in the game with the help of his monitor and his imagination, nothing could compare to the sheer scale of the one he found himself in now. It was a marvel of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and ambition. He started wondering how they worked.
As the elevator slowed to a stop and then reached its destination, the doors slid open with a soft chime. Ubel stepped out into a bustling concourse, filled with people of all shapes and sizes.
Ubel stepped out into a bustling corridor, the air alive with the sound of voices and footsteps. People hurried past him, their faces obscured by masks and visors, their conversations blending into a steady hum of noise.
He took a moment to orient himself, consulting the digital map hovering on his right sight. He expanded the map into a 3D display and it stood before him, the holographic 3D diagram map of the station. His eyes scanned over its intricate details of corridors, chambers, and levels. The familiar layout he once knew had been transformed beyond recognition. What was once a modestly sized station had now expanded exponentially, its radius and height dwarfing his memories.
The numbers glowed softly, indicating the new dimensions of the station. What was once a sizable structure had now grown into an even more colossal behemoth, spanning a maximum radius of 720 kilometers and towering to a height of 2,430 kilometers. It was a staggering realization, a testament to the progress and development that had occurred in his absence.
At the center of the Banedog's Backyard lay the Control Core, a massive chamber that housed the station's central computer system. The Core was a fortress within a fortress, heavily guarded by a powerful gang named Chrome Serpents and protected by layers of security protocols. It was said that whoever controlled the Core controlled much of the station, and many had tried—and failed—to seize it.
The Core was a marvel of ancient technology, its origins lost to time. It was the heart of the Banedog's Backyard, regulating everything from life support to the station's defense systems. The gangs, cartels, and even other families had fought bitterly over it, but the CS had held their ground, using their control of the power grid to maintain their dominance.
But the Core held secrets of its own, secrets that could change the balance of power in the Banedog's Backyard forever. Rumors spoke of hidden subroutines and dormant AIs, waiting to be awakened by those who knew how to unlock their potential. It was a prize worth dying for, and many had done just that in their quest to claim it. One of the best rumors that struck players in the game.
He sighed, a mixture of awe and nostalgia washing over him. Everything had changed in the ten years since he had last set foot in this place. The station he once knew had evolved into something beyond his wildest imagination, a testament to the boundless ambition of its creators and inhabitants.
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But amidst the awe-inspiring scale of the station, Ubel couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. The familiar landmarks and pathways he had once navigated with ease were now lost amidst the sprawling expanse of the station's new layout. It was as if a part of his past had been erased, replaced by something unfamiliar and daunting.
With a heavy heart, Ubel tore his gaze away from the holographic display and made his way to his destination. According to the coordinates he had been given, his destination was just a few levels above his current position. He quickly set off down the corridor that will lead him to the next elevator, enjoying the sights he passed as he weaves his way through the crowd with interest and ease. The crowded concourse bustled with activity as people hurried to and fro, their voices blending into a cacophony.
But amidst the sea of faces, there was no one he recognized. No old friends, no former comrades. It was as if they had all vanished into thin air, leaving him alone in this vast and unfamiliar world. Everything had changed in the ten years of his absence, and there was no going back. He had to accept that the world he once knew was gone, replaced by something bigger, grander, and more complex than he could have ever imagined.
As he approached the elevator, he was met with another swarm of people jostling for position. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, eager to reach their destinations and move on with their lives. Ubel waited patiently in line, his mind racing with thoughts and questions.
What had become of his friends?
Did they even remember him, or had he been forgotten like a relic of the past?
But there was no time for such introspection now. The elevator doors slid open, and Ubel stepped inside, squeezing in among the crowd. The doors closed with a soft chime, and the elevator began its ascent, carrying them upwards toward their respective destinations.
The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors opened once more, revealing a bustling platform teeming with activity. He couldn't help but marvel at the diversity of the crowd. People of all races, species, and backgrounds moved through the corridors, their voices mingling in a cacophony of languages and dialects. It was a testament to the station's status as a melting pot of cultures and identities across the Sol System.
Ubel's footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors of the bustling street as he navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the station. His mind was focused on finding the place he had been thinking about, the memories of his past driving him forward with a sense of urgency.
But just as he turned a corner, he felt a pair of hands grab him from behind, restraining him with surprising strength. Before he could react, something heavy struck him on the back of the head, sending shockwaves of pain radiating through his skull. Ubel stumbled forward, his vision swimming as darkness threatened to engulf him. His thoughts became muddled, disjointed fragments swirling in the void of his mind.
With a groan, Ubel's vision swam, the world spinning in a chaotic blur before darkness consumed him, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
---
Ubel's consciousness slowly clawed its way back from the murky depths of unconsciousness and as he became aware of his surroundings, a wave of disorientation and dread washed over him. His body felt heavy and sluggish. His eyes snapped open, and he gasped as his body realized the cold enveloping his body. He blinked groggily, trying to clear his vision as he assessed his surroundings. As his sight slowly returned, Ubel realized that he was in a dimly lit room, the air thick with the scent of sweat and stale air.
Confusion surged through him as he struggled to sit up, only to find himself naked with no clothes under the eerily still dim light of the room. With a start, he quickly found out that he was lying in a grimy bathtub, the water murky and cold. He glanced around, taking in the sight of other bodies.
Ubel began to assess the condition of the others lying in the bathtub. He reached out to the nearest body, his fingers trembling as he checked for signs of life. He noted the pallor of their skin, the shallow rise and fall of their chests. Some were unconscious, their breaths shallow and labored, while others lay still, their lifeless eyes staring blankly into the abyss.
Carefully, he began to inch his way out of the bathtub. As he steadied himself against the slick sides of the tub, his mind raced in deep thoughts. Trying to make sense of what had happened. Ubel's memories drifted back to the events leading up to his abduction.
But before he could formulate a plan, his attention was drawn to voices outside the bath curtains. They were muffled, but Ubel could make out the sounds of conversation, the tone low and urgent. With bated breath, he peered through the blood-stained curtains.
"...late in payment."
"I know they're late again," one voice muttered, the tone tinged with frustration.
"I'm sick of their excuses. We can't keep waiting forever. We've given him enough chances. No more promises." another voice said, laced with a hint of menace.
"But what can we do? We need that payment to come through. Our client is most probably still trying to stall for time. Should we send his goods to another instead?"
"Our client won't stand for it. But we don’t have a choice. We need his payment and we don’t tolerate tardy buyers."
Ubel's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. Who were these people? What were they talking about? And most importantly, what did it have to do with him?
His breath caught in his throat as he listened, piecing together fragments of the conversation.
Ubel came to a sudden realization. These people weren't just any criminals—they were Grafters, notorious outlaws in the underworld known for their grisly trade in human organs and cybernetic implants. Notorious for preying on unsuspecting victims, kidnapping them, and harvesting their organs or implants to sell on the black market. To them, human lives were nothing more than commodities to be exploited for profit to the highest bidder.
"They caught a boy, an adult woman, two young girls-which were twins last time I checked, and two men," one of them said matter-of-factly. "We don’t know if they are healthy or had implants, so we'll check their bodies later. They're already sedated."
“They were already dipped in the ice so most likely they flatlined already.”
“I hope so, that will make our job a lot easier if they don’t wake up in the middle of the operation.”
"By the way, did you hear? A very large ship had docked recently," one of the voices murmured, the words laden with significance. “The only thing I was able to confirm is that it came with the fleet of pirate ships.”
“What? This is a rogue station, what makes it different this time?”
“It's much larger. I heard it is as long as 20 km or even more.”
“What? Did you hear that from drunks?”
“Nope. From our leader.”
“Huh?”
"He told me that most of the familias, gangs, warlords, and powerful people in this station are interested in it."
“Yeah, I also heard that they are sending orders not to get involved with the owners of this fleet and large ship.”
"Yeah, but that does not stop their great interest in these newcomers. Some of these people are secretly offering large sums of credit for those who could give them information about these newcomers," another voice added.
“Pfft. Probably some lucky pirates.”
“Well, we don’t care for now though. The manager told us to strictly avoid these pirates. It was clear that he is not willing to risk attracting the attention of such a hot target.”
“And if he was willing to go to such lengths to avoid confrontation, then they must be truly formidable adversaries.”
“Could be, not that we should care.”
Ubel stopped listening to them as he decided he had enough information. He quickly weighed his options, and a cold calculation settled over him. Even in his weakened state due to the cold, he could still stand and overwhelm their numbers and firepower. Going out guns blazing might offer a fleeting sense of satisfaction, but it would also bring down the full force of the Grafters' wrath upon him.
But as he considered the risks and potential consequences of such a course of action, another option presented itself—a deal with the Grafters themselves. While these people might not offer the same profit margins as the slavers, they did provide a convenient disposal solution for "rotting" prisoners—those who were no longer viable for harvesting due to injury or illness. And as Ubel knew all too well, in the underworld, every opportunity for profit had its value.
“Still… it is more immersive to experience these side events in real-time and personal pov than behind a monitor.” He whispered as he grinned.
Ubel's mind raced with conflicting thoughts as he weighed his options carefully. Looting this base of Grafters’ operations for profit held a certain appeal. And it would also be a swift and decisive action, erasing those who had wronged him from existence. Then he made a decision.
After surveying the entire room and the nearest electrical connections and hubs near him, he unleashes his one of his strongest innate abilities. With a focused mind and a swift gesture, Ubel delved into the digital realm, his Neuromancy crackling to life like lightning in a storm. With a calm focus, allowed the digital currents to flow through him as he reached out with his mind.
The devices across the room became his instruments becoming mere puppets dancing to the tune of his commands and extensions of his will as he infiltrated their systems, injecting them with commands to create chaos and confusion. Screens flickered erratically, emitting blinding flashes of light and deafening bursts of sound. The grafters, caught off guard by the sudden cacophony of noise and light, were immediately drawn away from their posts, their attention diverted by the unexpected disruptions.
As his captors scrambled to investigate the sudden influx of electronic glitches and malfunctions, Ubel seized the opportunity to slip past them unnoticed. His movements were fluid and effortless, his senses attuned to the slightest shifts in the environment as he navigated through the maze of obstacles with the help of the devices he had taken control of.
With each passing moment, the distractions grew more intense, the devices becoming increasingly erratic under Ubel's control. The scrappers, overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught, were completely oblivious to his presence as he slipped through.
It was then that he spotted it—a security camera hidden in the air filter, its lens trained on the unsuspecting scrappers below. With a surge of determination, Ubel focused his Neuromancy on the camera, probing its defenses and searching for a way in.
With a deft touch, he bypassed the camera's security protocols, gaining access to its feed and the network it was connected to. Ubel's mind became a whirlwind of code and data, his Neuromancy dancing through the digital landscape with effortless grace. He located the server housing the grafters' data, bypassing firewalls and encryption measures with ease. With a surge of triumph, Ubel gained access to the server, his senses flooded with a torrent of information. A triumphant grin crossed Ubel's face as he breached the camera's defenses and gained access to its feed. His mind connected seamlessly with the scrapper's server, granting him unfettered access to their network and allowing him to track his belongings in real-time. And sure enough, he soon found what he was looking for—a digital trail leading him straight to his possessions.
Ubel stepped into what seemed to be the laundry room, his eyes scanning the racks of clothes until he found his belongings. Retrieving his clothes, he quickly changed into them, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over him. He also noticed the scattered bloodied clothes and great numbers of rodents, pests, and roaches that created their utopia in this dirty and dusty room. One by one, he retrieved his other belongings, careful not to disturb the delicate silence he had painstakingly planted.
Once dressed, Ubel turned his attention to the small window he had spotted earlier. With practiced agility, he maneuvered himself through the narrow opening. His muscles protest slightly at the tight squeeze and his body contorting to fit through the cramped opening. Moments later, he found himself back on the street, the cool night air washing over him like a balm.
As he stood on the street, Ubel took a moment to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on the building that housed the grafters. Disguised as a restaurant, it was a clever façade for their illicit activities, hiding the greed and ruthlessness of those who dwelled within.
With a grin, Ubel mentally marked the building in his mind, committing its location to memory as what he would always do to interesting locations and places in the game.
“It’s best to reserve these in the future.” He told himself as he walked away.