On the day of departure, Lex sat alone in the waiting room, fiddling with the buttons on his recruit uniform. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling where pipes and silver conduits ran overhead. Suddenly, a mechanical hum filled the air, making the whole building tremble, and the pipes rattled.
Lex's gaze snapped forward to the large window in front of him, where the massive dome over the landing bay began to open. He stood up from his chair and moved closer to the window. Through the widening gap, he saw flashes of lightning crackling across the narrow slice of sky, while snow swirled in, illuminated by the bright floodlights.
The dome had fully retracted now, revealing the snow-covered mountains all around. Lex searched the skies for the ship—there, in the distance, was a single light cutting through the cloudy sky. Soon, it split into two as the lights drifted further apart, and the shape of a freighter began to take form. Suddenly, several bolts of lightning struck its outer hull mid-descent.
His heart raced just watching, fearing the ship would burst into flames. But as it came closer, Lex realized the fiery bursts were caused by methane in the atmosphere igniting around the ship’s bright blue, ring-like thrusters.
The ship, seemingly unfazed by the lightning, descended—almost silently behind the thick, reinforced glass—into the landing bay, hovering right at Lex’s eye level. It was about a hundred meters long, though not nearly as massive as the LEVIATHAN. On the port side, the only side he could see, the words "ST SAMSON" were painted in bright orange letters, with the company logo shining nearby in the same color.
The SAMSON performed a half-turn in midair, and its enormous front floodlights bathed the waiting room in blinding light. For a brief moment, Lex stood bathed in the glow, before the ship finally lowered itself, thrusters pointed downward, onto the marked landing zone. Its nose dipped briefly as it settled onto its feet, landing securely.
Beneath the thrust of the engines, the ground cracked and glowed with heat, bubbling up as the four ion jets powered down, and the two main engines on the rear wings retracted into their original positions. Lex's breath fogged up the glass in front of him, obscuring his view. He stepped to the side, never taking his eyes off the SAMSON. The metal shutters on the cockpit windows rolled down, revealing the pilot and two other crew members behind the glass. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument—the one who looked like the ship’s captain was clearly agitated, making angry gestures.
Lex wiped the glass with his sleeve, just as the dome above closed and the airlock system in the landing bay finished its cycle. He saw the first crew members exit the ship, climbing down from the front landing gear. They were mechanics and technicians dressed in dark blue overalls and knit caps. A few mercenaries followed, with rifles slung over their shoulders and bits of body armor stuffed into large, open duffel bags. Then came a group of officers, and Lex wondered which one of them was the Lieutenant Major he’d been waiting for all this time.
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Lieutenant Major Franley had sad brown eyes and short-cropped hair, streaked with gray at the temples. Despite his serious expression, impressive build, and the rank clearly marked on his uniform, Lex found himself instantly warming to the man, without really knowing why. The Lieutenant Major laid a stack of official-looking documents on the table. One paper stated that Lex must never speak about the discovery in the mine, and another demanded absolute silence about the conditions on Limbo.
Lex signed without hesitation, thinking how he wanted to bury the past anyway—never to think about it again, let alone talk about it. He handed the papers back to the Lieutenant Major, who took them, only to place them back on the table.
"One more thing," he said, "we don’t use coins on the planet. Everything runs on credits—it’s a completely virtual currency. The upside is you don’t have to lug around heavy coins, but the downside is you can’t wave around cash to impress the girls at the bar. If you haven’t already, you’ll need to hand over any coins before we take off. They’re no good in Vega Prime."
"I don’t have any left, sir."
The man nodded. "Are you left-handed or right-handed?"
"Left-handed."
"Alright, give me your right arm." He strapped a device, shaped like a watch, onto Lex’s wrist.
"We’ve transferred a five hundred credit advance to your account to help get you started on your new life. We’ll deduct it in installments from your future earnings, interest-free. This thing on your wrist is called a PDA, a Personal Data Assistant. It’s mainly for credit transfers. Every purchase you make, every credit you earn or spend, goes through this. If you want to check your balance, press this button on the side and a hologram will pop up, visible only to you. So no need to worry about someone else spying on it—well, never mind. I’ll just give you the manual. You can read, right?"
"Yes, sir. Not all that well, but I can."
"Good enough. Everyone in Vega Prime wears one of these. It’s the latest tech—and also mandatory. Each of us has a PDA with a list of achievements and a level indicator to motivate you to become a good citizen of Vega Prime, maybe even the best. This is the scaled-down version of a more advanced progression system that used to interface directly with our biochemistry, but it's now banned. A ‘Light’ version, you could say. But it’s still enough to check where you stand in society. Look: right now, you’re a Level 1 Citizen of Vega Prime. But that’ll change soon enough, I bet."
Lex examined the hologram of his character profile, displaying his name, skills, and everything he had achieved so far as a citizen of this foreign megacity, nothing.
Then Major Franley turned off the hologram with a button press and said, "This thing is synced to you at all times and tracks your progress through a limited AI, though we’re not really allowed to call it that. Anyway, your PDA can do plenty of other useful things too, like plan routes if you need directions. Once you’ve landed on the planet, your next task is to wait for a message from the Corporation, which you’ll receive through your PDA. After that, get ready. Zara Thandros herself wants to speak with you."
"Heard that already, sir."
The Lieutenant Major pressed his lips together, then nodded. "She wants to meet the boy who helped the Corporation crush the resistance."
"Did I really?"
"I don’t know what you found down in those mines, but that’s what Miss Thandros said. Her words, not mine. Anyway, go ahead and introduce yourself to the captain. Maybe a bit of politeness will help lighten his foul mood."
"Thank you, sir."
The Lieutenant Major nodded. "Nothing to thank me for, kid," he said.