Gaylen opened his eyes. Up above him was a darkened sky with only a few stars visible. The pain hit him, and after a moment of confusion he started to remember. He was beneath Jekata Dock, those were maintenance lights on the pillars, not stars, and Blue Strike was trying to kill him.

They were trying to kill him.

Stay alive. Stay alive, you bastard.

He was too dazed for much fear, but old survival instincts pushed him into motion. They were always there, driven into him by years and years of danger and violence and fear and pain.

Gaylen rolled over onto his back. The motion didn’t make him take note of individual injuries. His entire body felt like one big, horrible bruise. He’d rolled all the way to the bottom of the slopes, the centre of this abandoned place.

He felt around for the gun but it had probably remained behind somewhere up above. He glanced up. His blackout couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, seeing as he was still alive. The shooting had stopped for now. What that meant for Herdis he didn’t know.

What a mess. What a mess this entire thing was.

Gaylen put his hand up on something and used it to push himself to his feet with a barely-suppressed groan. His balance failed and he leaned against it, then started walking along it.

It was one of those big, old transference platforms. The First Civilization’s grand network, allowing them to walk between worlds in moments. Until it supposedly served to carry the Big Flash to every corner of the galaxy they’d set up shop in, casting humankind back thousands of years.

How appropriate, a part of him thought as he continued on his pained walk. A bright past, long since ruined, built over by inferior succession and forgotten.

He thought of his own distant past, full of promise and hope and bad friends. How had it come to this; his life filled with psychopaths and danger?

Such a petty, everyday thing; school tuitions and loan debts. And just once he’d meant to truly break the rules. One robbery. He’d go along with his friends for the sake of paying it all off. And the money was all insured anyway. No harm done. And he’d be able to build the life he’d always wanted.

And then, at the height of it all, with people shouting and nerves on edge that stupid, crazy bastard Levi Lok had panicked and raised a gun...

Gaylen had fled, but the consequences followed him. And they simply continued to follow him. That stupid kid who’d wanted one free ride was long dead, burned away by harsh experience, but Gaylen was still paying for his mistakes.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. They’ll be coming.

His head still swam a bit, but he found the strength to step away from the platform. Just a few steps brought him to a half-collapsed stone house. The doorway and immediate interior were fine, and Gaylen took the yellow X cylinder out of his coat. He stuffed it inside, around the frame, and then hurriedly stepped away.

Gaylen took in the surrounding pillar lights a bit, trying to orient himself. He thought he located that Pillar 9, and with nothing else to go on he headed for it. It was just one slope up. But not across the platform. Not in the open. He would not make himself a perfect target so close to safety.

From what he could tell the ruins were all around the platform. The houses had been small and very tightly packed and made of bricks, likely a long-ago pauper area. Most of them had suffered the collapse of at least one wall, while others were simply piles of rubble. In short, there was plenty of cover.

Gaylen stepped through a doorway and over a pile of weathered bricks. That was when the bolt hit him in the back.

The shock of the searing pain dropped him forward onto the ground. His right hand twitched for a gun, before remembering that he didn’t have one.

Gaylen forced himself to breathe, and in spite of it all he found that he could. It must have been a half-strength blast.

“Where’s the cylinder?!” barked the mercenary captain.

Gaylen groaned as he rolled himself over onto his back. The captain was coming his way, with the other one right behind him, scanning about for enemies.

“Where is the cylinder?!” the captain shouted again as he came to a stop.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Where indeed?” Gaylen replied, showing his empty palms.

“I’m not playing games!” the merc told him. “How about I blow off a limb and ask you again?!”

“You want to risk me going into shock?” Gaylen asked. “Or do you feel like searching this whole place, before the station-”

The captain shot him in the chest. It was another half-strength blast, just weak enough for the vest to keep him alive. He let out a choked gasp and slumped on the ground.

“Enough!” the mercenary said. “Enough! I am getting that cylinder, and I will take pieces out of you until you either talk or die, then I’ll-”

“Enemy, left!” the other merc shouted as he swung his weapon around and dropped to one knee.

Gaylen heard plasma fly, and the captain’s shield crackled as a shot hit him. The man immediately returned fire and shots flew both ways. Gaylen was slightly surprised to find his own body still responding to demands, and he rolled it to the side. It was agony, but he just needed a moment, just a moment, to reach that little piece of wall.

The captain turned back his way and fired, hitting the ground as Gaylen made it into cover. A glance to the left showed Kiris, Bers and Jaquan, between him and Pillar 9, firing at the mercs from behind cover. Jaquan had the gigantic pirate pistol, and a shot from it clearly penetrated the merc’s armour to some degree.

Gaylen threw himself down completely flat, and a moment later a shot from the captain passed through the wall and over him. It was too thin to serve as proper cover, and Gaylen scrambled into action, hoping to put more walls between the two of them. The captain came around, firing as he did so. A corner blew up right behind Gaylen.

There was the distinctive thum of Herdis’s rifle, followed by the sound of a shield failing. The captain remained on the move; Gaylen could hear his feet move rubble about, his armour plates scraping against stone in the gloom.

The shooting taking place out of sight continued: The thum of that Anastahan rifle and whatever the mercenary was using, the lighter sounds of two handguns and the not so light sound of the pirate pistol, and Bers’s now-familiar battle cry.

Weaving between walls, Gaylen found himself in a house that was little more than a doorframe and one intact corner. He staggered into the corner and put his back to it, then slid a hand into a pocket, while also kneeling down and using the other to pick up a rock.

The captain followed him, shooting at either the rest of the crew or where he imagined Gaylen to be. Within a breath or two he was on the other side of that corner.

When virtually all options were exhausted one resorted to whatever was left, even if that meant the oldest, most cliché tricks. Gaylen made his gamble and threw the pebble. Then he stepped out of the corner, and found the merc’s back turned in search of the noise.

Gaylen lunged and gripped the mercenary captain from behind, and for a precious few moments the awkward, grunting dance was even. But he was in no condition for this, and one slow shift of balance was all it took for the merc to throw Gaylen over his shoulder.

Gaylen landed on his side, losing his air. Then he lost it some more as the merc kicked him. Then he did it again. Then he shouldered his rifle.

“Did you think you could beat armour with your bare hands?!” the man shouted furiously as he aimed the barrel at Gaylen’s face.

“No...” Gaylen croaked.

The breaching charge he’d attached to the captain’s back activated. Gaylen shielded his face from the searing, hissing heat. The mercenary let out a horrible shriek, slumped to the ground, then gurgled. After a few seconds all he heard was the hissing of the charge. And then it fizzled out.

Gaylen glanced over at the remains, then immediately looked away. Some things he did not need engraved in his memory.

The shooting had stopped.

“Gaylen?” Jaquan called out.

“I’m here,” he replied, then started the awful task of getting to his feet. “I’m... here.”

He staggered towards the sound of voices. Jaquan and Kiris were in cover, ready for more fighting. Herdis was limping their way, a burn-mark in the leg of her armour. The other mercenary was dead, his armour marked by burns from powerful weapons, but also splattered with blood. Bers stood over the corpse. The fringer had either delivered the killing strokes in between the plates, or simply made sure it was all over. And the man had managed to get shot yet again. And again he seemed relatively okay.

“What about the rest?” Kiris asked. “How many were there?”

“Let’s check. Someone, lend me a comm. Quick.”

Gaylen got a comm from Herdis, and set it for a short-range general call.

“Hello, Kavian? Kavian Hunter, can you hear me?”

There was a moment’s beat.

“Yes, I hear you,” said a female voice.

“This is Gaylen Qin. How many of them do you have?”

“Three, including the one you threw my way.”

Gaylen released most of the remaining tension in his body and mind.

“We’ve killed four. That makes all of them.”

“I see. I would have preferred to turn all of them in, but I cannot fault you for self-defence.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Gaylen replied. “Are you that same Kavian I saw on Chukata Mog?”

“I am.”

“Then can you tell me what happened to the Dwyyk who was with us at the time?”

“In fact, I can.”