“Very distinct are the challenges faced by the rare planets who modernize and industrialize to such a degree; it is often said with much truth that for one planet to be an entire city, ten systems worth of worlds must be comprised of farmland to help support it. Not to mention the sacrifice of local ecosystems—economic progress at all costs comes with a steep price that is too often externalized Everyone wants to be Vylensus.”

—Environmentalist Taarquan Raberas

I’m sorry, Dad. Zaina choked back a sob, a tear streaking down her face as she pictured the faces of her parents, always so loving and warm. She’d never feel the warmth of her father’s strong arms around her again, or the gentle touch of her doting mother. The thought was incomprehensible. If they ever found out what happened to her, they’d be heartbroken. Mom. I should never have left you. If I had stayed there—

A surge of anger burned through her veins. No. They’d taught her better than that. There was no way Zaina would allow everything she’d been through to be for nothing. No. No, fuck that. If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting. Her eyes searched around for something blunt and heavy or sharp. No luck. She’d probably have to tear a safety bar out of the wall—

Another sharp boom interrupted her resolution. The ship veered left, but not harshly—not a direct impact. A few loud whizzes and sizzling shrieks broke out—there was a twanging snap, and the ship gently dipped and bobbed, making Zaina sway to keep her balance.

By now, the vis-feeds were powered down, too. Zaina stumbled toward the panes of hyper-glass lining the cockpit’s ceiling and strained her neck to see through them, awkwardly angled as they were. There, floating above them, was a writhing cable with a frayed, freshly cut end.

A few ear-splitting pops broke out, and Zaina gasped as one of the cube-ships, its body emitting sputtering flames, hovered by the window.

What? What—what did that?

Another enemy fighter darted into view, shooting overhead and changing direction at will; it was pursued doggedly by a smaller, sphere-shaped craft. The spherical ship had two exterior magnet-rail systems holding its cannons and engines, allowing both to rotate freely; the craft zipped and dashed about, keeping pace with its prey’s frantic turns.

Three more pops and a flash of light—Zaina covered her eyes, and when they opened again, only a flaming wreck remained of the second cube-ship. The sphere stopped in place as its engines rotated, then shot back over Zaina’s transport. Another round of pops broke out, but after another thirty seconds or so, they ceased. Now there was nothing but silence.

Another larger ship, about the size and of similar shape to Gir’s transport, came into view overhead and stopped. The ship rocked a little, and a whirring noise filled the cabin as a few lights dimmed on.

A blurred voice blared over the comm-display, “Occupant of ship 7XD-4854-5J7, confirm reception of auxiliary power. Occupant of ship…”

It went on while Zaina desperately searched the dashboard for the proper button.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Um—can you hear me? No, not that one. Now—can you—no, not that one, either. This one? Hello?”

“Hello? Occupant of ship 7XD—”

“Yes, that’s me,” Zaina replied. “Who is this?”

“Confirm reception of auxiliary power.”

She took a good look around the dim cabin. “Yeah—yeah, I think it’s working.”

“Are there any others on board?”

“Only a glyph and myself—”

“Very well. Now, if you could test—”

“Wait, what about—who was attacking us?”

“Pirates. No need to worry, now. They’re pretty common in the surrounding starways. They ran away, as they tend to. Now, if you could test your engine—”

“I—I don’t know how to do that.”

“Do you know how to fly at all?”

“No. The glyph was doing that part, but it’s lost power.”

After ten seconds of silence, the voice came through again, “Very well. We’ll tow you to the planet’s surface. Please, for your own safety, stay seated and strap yourself in.”

“Oh—okay,” she said. The ship lurched again, so Zaina quickly darted into her seat and attached the magnetic straps. “Um, who are you people?”

“My name is Commander Royce Flitarik of the Otmozan Global Defense Force. You’re lucky you were sublighting near us. Not many planets would go out of their way to help a stranger these days.”

“I do appreciate it,” Zaina replied. The rest of the trip went by in silence. Gizmo, who had a cord attached to the ship, was back in low-power mode.

Poor guy. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a proper charge.

Before long, their drift through space ended; they were coming up on a gray planet. Its surface was obscured by a thick layer of fog.

Where once her heart raced in fear, now it did so in anticipation. This was her first new world—she had no idea what to expect.

They veered into the cloud of fog and smoke as they descended. After a few minutes, they broke through. The vis-feed displayed a menagerie of sparkling, multicolored lights shining below. She stared, barely able to blink at the incredible vista.

The entire planet was like one big city—as if someone took Ryrda and stretched it across all of Demelia. Steel towers like titans grazing the clouds with their peaks raised up into the skies. Innumerable lights belonging to atmospheric craft dashed to and fro, and on the street level, there were even more lights from shops and ground-based vehicles. Everything was made of concrete and steel, and every inch of space was covered in flashing signs and billboards. From above, it looked like a luminescent neon jungle.

Her mouth fell open. It was a lot to take in despite its stunning beauty. She thought, as they drew closer, that the jumbled mess of lights and concrete would become decipherable. It wasn’t so. The colossal towers had smaller buildings interspersed between them. Some were taller than the tallest building in Ryrda, many were smaller than her family home, and they all had moving advertisements and flashing signs of their own. It was too much.

By Byzon, what is this place?

Zaina’s transport was dragged above a shipyard, where it was lowered into a gentle landing. She unbuckled and opened the hatch. An instant of panic struck her—what if the air wasn’t breathable? Did she need her mask? It was barely charged, and where was she going to charge it? She didn’t have a place to stay, and she didn’t have any money.

She pulled the hatch closed and hung her head. A few deep breaths built her courage.

You’ve come this far. Come on, now. There’s no need to worry. You can do this.

With a hiss, the hatch popped open. Zaina climbed out and jumped to the ground. Her eye caught two long, thin disc-tipped missiles sticking out of the engine of Gir’s transport. They each had two curved bars running their length and fins at the back.

Those must be siphon missiles.

Awaiting her was a tall, slender man wearing a green collared longcoat decorated with medals. He was a Denovian, with two big, unblinking eyes attached to ridges on either side of his bluish-gray face; his large mouth was fixed in a deep frown. He reached for his weapon when she faced him.

“Occupant,” he said. The voice was a little different without the distortion, but she recognized it as Commander Royce. “Identify yourself.”

She raised her hands. “I’m Zaina. Zaina Quin, from Demelia.”