The dark corridor stretched into nothingness, or so it seemed. The typical walls appeared plain and bare, blending into the darkness and silence.

A sudden burst of light from outside invaded the hidden space, creating an explosion of noise. All of this beamed through the half-closed blinds in the windows. As the rays moved quickly over the room, specks of dust danced away in the heavy air. There was death here, manifested by a twisted contour on the floor.

Unrecognisable shapes returned into darkness as quickly as they appeared, but the heavy, polluted air remained. The space beyond the black corridor lay in grave silence again.

She knew it, and the men and women who were with her knew it. Slow, tired breaths marked their presence, an odd situation for the whole police and forensic squad to wait before the foothold of a crime scene. Yet there they were, waiting, listening, learning.

Another beam of light hit the windows, elongated rays dancing over the walls and the ceiling, touching the silent furniture. The light reflections then moved over a puddle of dark, sickly liquid. Reality sharply retracted as quickly as it invaded.

Purposely, they didn't step forward, on her command, and they used no lights. "She's gone," somebody whispered. The group of people murmured, unsettled.

"She's still here," the woman replied with a half voice, finally moving forward, gently. "Detective, I understand you want to pay your respects to the victim, but she has passed the river's edge... we need to proceed. The dawn is near."

She twitched at the sound of his voice. "Yes, yes, you are right. Proceed according to protocol. Don't miss anything." Immediately, a small group of men and women spread around the shadows, keeping the lights off, using their sensors.

But the truth was, she was waiting for the tech guys with the sensors to start working their magic before they entered the scene and disrupted the air, displacing any chemical particles. And they did work hard, with the machines gathering data even before any human eye noticed anything.

Their shadows moved quietly through the darkness; only occasionally, somebody would cross over a patch of light. Then, the only thing one could see was a masked humanoid creature with a row of insect-like eyes on the front instead of a face, moving in odd patterns, moving their hands in the air, leaning to the ground, touching—resembling a form of bizarre nocturnal pantomime.

Before a couple of weeks ago, they would have teased her about "keep the lights off," but now everything has changed. It wasn't until she was the one to discover a faint but distinctive chemical residue that would linger in the air but disappear when exposed to any source of light. That's why it was crucial for them to perform the preliminary scans and tests before the first sunlight came in. She feared, though, the street light from outside may have spoiled the results of their pursuit.

"We have it!" One technician shouted a bit too enthusiastically. Many unseen eyes turned at him. He cleared his throat and repeated it again, quieter and calmer. "We have it. It's them."

Moments later somebody switched the lights on, and a bright flood filled their eyes. It's gone.

Dazzled, the woman looked around. The room seemed different now. Space has expanded and almost everything was bright and neat. A multitude of simple, elegant lines with a dash of explosive colour here and there. In the middle of this space next to a smashed coffee table, on the floor, a body. A woman. Unnaturally twisted limbs pointed in wrong directions and a body frozen in grotesque. A bizarrely enormous pool of blood surrounded her, with a few spatters around, on the couch, on the nearby wall, and a large one on the smashed table.

The victim's hair was short and dark, almost black. It wasn't hard to see she fought back. What was hard to understand for her was that she, the victim, was still here.

"They," whatever they were, would only leave half a trail, a mark of kidnapping, or one accidental splatter of blood. "They" were known to abduct people, not to kill them. What went wrong here?

"Detective, you should see these readings," a boyish man approached her.

His head was half covered with a sensor helmet. The front was sculpted to resemble an insect with a pair of eye sensors built of hexagonal honey plates. The technology of the colonists was used to solve crimes as these were initially designed for mining and chemical readings while exploring underground caverns without the need of light.

"What do we have?" she answered.

The man was more than happy to flood her half-asleep mind with a technical slur and unnecessary details. Trying to focus on what he was saying, she nodded a few times and looked around the room.

Others took off their "insect" helmets, Tithonus, as they would call them. Scanning the furniture, walls, and floor using different spectrums of lights. Somebody activated a photographic probe that flew around, taking pictures of the crime scene. And a lonely woman who was inspecting the body, gently moving it to identify points of interest for the probe, almost caressing it. This woman once lost a daughter. Why was this important? Because the detective knew her very well, and she knew she cared both about the dead and the living.

"...so the familiar residue, or how I like to call it the 'stench,' is strongest in the central part of the room around the body and through the corridor we just came in. Like a trail. This is extremely important. But, there is also a weaker trail that separates towards the window."

"Did we interrupt them?" Her mind shot awake. The man hesitated.

"I don't think so; it's distinctive, but it's not strong in any way. More like something or someone cut through the original cloud..."

"Unlikely," the woman said. She didn't address anyone, but the detective was the one listening.

"Morning, Doctor Arres. I didn't see you with the police group." Doctor Kidaria Arres was the doctor's name, and for a long time, she and the detective worked side by side when she was doing her medical training, but then she chose to work with the living and left forensic medicine behind.

"Good morning to you too, Pax. Yet, not the best one in my opinion. Still didn't have my coffee." Kidaria huffed with an annoyed expression. "You know me, Pax, I have my tricks and contacts. I was entering this building before you unlocked these doors." She pointed at the corridor.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Uhum... tell me what we are looking at, and I will get you the best coffee I can find." Pax crouched by the body, trying not to step anywhere near the pool of blood, her hand immediately disappearing into the pocket of her coat to find a notepad. Slightly bent, with obscure edges and yellowing pages, but full of knowledge.

"Well... I'm so glad someone is listening to my opinion these days. Look around, detective. She was wealthy, she was successful, and the woman was into sports. Two degrees in engineering and robotics. That's smart, very smart. I struggle with the kitchen baker. She fought back too hard for them. The way the body is positioned, it looks like somebody lifted her and she punched and kicked the living hell out of the attacker till they dropped her, but there is something amiss here. Some details make no sense." Kidaria spread her arms like she was trying to contour the scene.

"When she fell down, she must have hit the coffee table with her head." Pax could see that in her mind. Cogs started to move.

"That was the cause of death, yes," Kidaria confirmed. "But, the table was smashed before she fell on it. And one of the table legs is missing."

"How can you tell any of that? And what about this blood smear here?" Pax pointed at the wall opposite them. It looked like somebody was thrown on it. Hard enough to dent it.

"This is one of the details that makes no sense."

"How so?" Pax asked, looking at the mark and then turned back.

Kidaria lifted a few strands of hair on the victim's head, uncovering a deep wound. "I won't have a definitive answer before we take her to the lab, but what I can tell you is, based on what I can see from a preliminary, it was sharp force trauma to the head that killed her." The medical examiner gently moved a strand of hair covering the wound, revealing a large piece of thick glass, the same as the smashed coffee table, sticking out of a large wound. "If she was thrown and her body smashed the table, there is no chance for such impact force to cause this wound."

"That looks nasty," Pax crossed her lips in a grimace. "But, how could it happen, this table is made of wood and the glass is only at the centre, it seems to me out of place."

"You are right; I can't give you a definitive answer on that, but based on all of the bruises and scratch marks around her legs and arms, blunt force trauma to the left shoulder and cracked ribs; it seems like there was a fight here, and based on the readings your friend Mantis just said, there may have been a third person included."

"Any sign of...?" The detective started, and Kidaria instantly knew.

"Not on what I could see, and yes I checked. There is no bruising, but as I said I won't have any data till I get the chance to do a proper screen on her."

"She was damaged," Pax leaned down to the body. It was really a girl, no older than 25. Obviously at the best time of her life.

"That's slightly offensive, detective." Kidaria unpacked a white, textile-looking material and hesitated. After the inspection, they would cover the body, and the intelligent polymer would create a skin-tight cocoon, keeping it safe until they got to the morgue.

"She was damaged, Kidaria, not as a person. Physically. That's why they left her. The attacker realised she was dead and left."

"This would be the first time then."

"Escalation?" the woman asked. "Whatever horror they planned for her... This is better."

"More like an accident, and it gives us a shade of hope that the others, wherever they may be - are still alive."

"We don't work for hope, detective, didn't you forget?" A tall, rough-looking man entered the scene. His eyes, bleached with age, pierced the room. A quick move of hands to show his Police ID to one of the guards, another to inform he is not interested in what they have to say. Inspector Brimos, senior in his position. A great cop, a better detective, age has not been graceful either on his face or ego. Pax liked him; he mentored her. The only problem was, he was by the book, always scared to think beyond the page. With almost everything in his life, but especially with the job. However, there were exceptions. She knew he was the one to authorise her "no light" policy on this case. "Solid facts, leads, and evidence. These people" they need justice." He continued talking till he faced her.

"Or help," she shot back unintentionally, louder than she wanted.

"Pax, I know you are great at what you do, but spare me this. The chemical trial you discovered, it was great, it filled the gaps, but we need more." Somebody passed him a datapad with the report; Kitara had already sent her notes to the shared server, and these, with authorization, could see everything. Obviously, Brimos had access.

"It is all there; there are trails and patterns in the data." She had done the research, and this newest discovery would confirm so many theories she had.

"That's enough, detective. We had this conversation more than once now, and I will repeat again; 72 people are missing. Their families want and need answers; the public wants answers. On top of that, we lost half of our fleet less than 48 hours ago when the Moon Raiders assaulted the border."

The inspector was towering above her, with his tall posture, but now she felt as if she were crumbling because she pulled on his weak spot, and he knew how to hit back. "Do you really expect me to tell them that there is hope that those people are alive? Kidnapped somewhere in the city? That we have an invasion of? What do you kids call them? Them? This will raise massive panic. The last thing the security services need right now."

The groups around the room stared at them; Kidaria discreetly moved away not to be part of the argument. It was publicly known of the destruction of most of the fleet. A huge cordon of civilian ships heading from motherlands to celebrate the graduation time in schools and universities in the colonies.

When the attack came, the fleet was in chaos, absorbed in defending the civilian ships and fighting back at the same time. They lost ship by ship until the attacking force suddenly retreated. From the data gathered, the invading Raiders had assembled a crushing armada. Nothing like that was seen before. Since then, the nations had been in mourning, thousands killed, and thousands of children became orphans overnight. Pax found it hard not to turn her head away, her face and eyes burning with anger and guilt mixed together. Fine, he was right, but he should also listen for once.

"If you have written your report, you are dismissed. Nothing more for you to do here." Brimos finished with a grave voice; he already turned away to speak to other members of the forensic team.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for the morning graduation?" Kidaria turned to her, with a warmer question, finally helping.

She finally finished the academy and would receive her honorary rank. This would allow for a shift of career, maybe something she needed.

"Go," Brimos barked before she spoke. "Have fun. Clear your brain, get some sleep. I don't need conspiracy theories here."

Kidaria walked with her outside the apartment building. There were a number of police vehicles, and their bright lights beamed through the dark of night.

"Ignore him; he's a moron." The woman said, rubbing her arms. The temperature was lower than usual but still warm, and there was a summer breeze.

"I know. He always was."

"Whatever. You shouldn't be here, dear." Pax adored her foreign accent. Especially when she spoke to people close to her, she modulated the words and their sound in a way beyond understanding. "Get some life outside the precinct. I'm sure your friends at the Academy will be waiting for you soon. Go now."

She nodded and turned away to catch one of the patrol vehicles to give a lift home. With one hand holding the door, she turned back around.

"Kidaria, can you do me a favour?" She shouted.

"No!"

"Kidaria, please!" She cried with a slight giggle. The man in the car started grumbling because of the cold.

"What now?".

As Kidaria said there was something that didn't add up, and Brimos interrupted them in checking everything as well as she wanted.

"I need to know if there were any other prints or foreign material on her. Also if she has bruises on her back." Nothing like a friendly chat about dead people, she thought.

Kidaria only shrugged and waved her hand like she was trying to ignore her, but after a year of working together, Pax knew she would send her the data, eventually. Having waited for a short moment in the chill for the lonely figure to go back up the building, the semi-warm interior was more than welcome. Now hidden in the back seat, with her hands tightly squeezed inside pockets of her coat, she admitted to a small defeat. Again. Emotions over the mind. Not getting any better with this. The engines roared as the ship rose from the concrete. She looked outside for a second. A small diffraction to the light enveloped what she saw. Like a halo. Just for a second.