As I lay there, looking up at the starry sky, my thoughts turned to Captain Hansen. She had shown me mercy, something that was all too rare in the harsh universe of asteroid mining.

  Chapter 2: The Claim-Jumpers

  Another work cycle began. I was sent out to operate the drill-bots again, my body still aching from the beating I’d endured despite the brief rest in a bunk.

  Borag still crouched on the same nameless rock, and we miners drilled relentlessly. Like a swarm of metallic leeches, we encircled the immense ship’s underbelly and labored around the clock.

  Glancing up, I took in the sharp lines of the vessel’s exterior, the colossal engines that propelled her through the void, and the myriad yellow windows speckling her hull. As I gazed at the ship’s towering mass, I observed the silhouettes of crew members scurrying within, their forms minuscule in comparison to the vastness of the spacecraft overall.

  As my shift dragged on, my thoughts couldn’t help but stray to my fellow miner, Charley. I inquired about him to the other miners, but no one could provide a definitive answer. They averted their gazes and muttered something about him being “processed.”

  My heart sank. I understood the implications of that word all too well. Charley had likely been deemed a worthless asset and terminated.

  I felt a pang of guilt. I’d been so focused on my own survival that I’d forgotten about everyone else. Charley had been as innocent as I was when the drill-bot malfunctioned, and I’d failed to save him. Now he was being processed, and there was nothing I could do to help him.

  As I drilled deeper into the thorny rock, hitting a fresh vein of metal, my thoughts turned to getting out of my predicament. I knew that I had to find a way out of this life, a way to break free from the chains that bound me to this remote corner of the Solar System. But the odds were against me. Even if I mined a rich vein every day for the next month, I’d still fall back into the red as charges for breathing accumulated on the long haul back to Mars.

  Like a thousand other contracts before me, I pondered escape. Defaulting on your debts and disappearing wasn’t unheard of—but it was pretty much impossible on a mining rig. There simply wasn’t anywhere to run.

  But I refused to give up. I was a survivor, a fighter, and I would do whatever it took to achieve my freedom. Earning my way out, that was the only path that made sense. I assured myself it could be done.

  As I chipped away at the rocks, I noticed Captain Hansen marching by with two of her marines in tow.

  I tried to avoid making eye contact with the captain, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity. What was she doing out here? Was she checking up on the miners? Or was there something else going on?

  Just then, I noticed something odd. Charley was walking toward me, but he was limping and holding his side. I rushed over to him, my heart racing with concern.

  “Hey, man! I thought you were a goner!”

  “I’m… functional,” Charley said, his voice strained. “Some of my parts are plastic, now—but I can work.”

  “That’s great to hear. What’s the captain doing out here?”

  Charley cast a worried look sunward. The asteroid we were mining was in a slow spin, faster than Earth but slower than some of the others we mined. It took about three hours to do a full rotation. He pointed after the captain and her two marines.

  “I heard there are claim-jumpers on the far side of this rock. Their captain asked ours to come out to talk to him.”

  I frowned inside my helmet. Claim-jumpers were a scourge of the asteroid mining industry, ruthless scavengers who would stop at nothing to steal the precious minerals that D-Contract rock-rats like me had risked our lives to mine.

  “You think…” Charley said, “you think maybe we should have a look?”

  There he went again, seeking his second beating in a week. I could see why Charley wasn’t topping the list of hard workers who might yet earn out their contracts.

  “I can’t afford the time, man,” I told him.

  “I can. I’m screwed anyway. If these claim-jumpers kick us off this fat rock, or they take half the metal… well, I want to see what’s happening.”

  I shook my head. “It’s your funeral.”

  Charley hobbled away into the light of the sun. Our local star was smaller than it was supposed to be, but with no atmosphere to interfere with the light, it was still kicking out plenty of radiation.

  I looked after him skeptically. I’d seen the fire in Charley’s eyes.

  Part of me admired him, and after a few minutes, I set my drill-bot to idle, and I walked after him.

  “You’re not on break yet, Starn!” the foreman called after me.

  I waved to him. “Sometimes a man has to go, sir,” I called back, waving. “I’ll be right back.”

  The foreman snarled and made some notes on his tablet. No doubt he was looking for a way to tack on a surcharge, but I knew that we were all allotted eight minutes a shift for unscheduled breaks. That would have to be enough.

  I followed Charley over a rocky rise. On an asteroid, you didn’t have to wander far to be out of sight of one another. The curvature of these tiny planetoids placed every horizon only a hundred yards off. Sometimes, it was less than that.

  As I hopped toward the far side of the asteroid, I could hear a commotion and shouting in my local radio range. I’d already figured out the discussion of claims between the two captains had gone badly by the time I topped a jagged blade of nickel-iron.

  There they were: a group of claim-jumpers, armed to the teeth and planning to take what they wanted.

  Captain Hansen and her marines were outnumbered and outgunned. She was racing toward me—toward the safety of Borag. Her face was etched with a mix of fear and determination.

  Then I spotted Charley. He was clawing his way over the rocks, too. His new plastic feet had to be slow-moving, because he was crawling, using his gloved hands to grab onto every handhold he could and propel himself in my direction.

  Hansen had one of her marines with her, and he was firing wildly at the claim-jumpers. But then he was hit, and I watched in horror as he fell to the ground, his blood spraying out in a hot gassy plume. It froze a moment later in the cold vacuum of space.

  Captain Hansen made a sound of rage and fired her weapon, hitting one of the claim-jumpers in the chest. But then more of the bandits appeared and fired wild laser-shots at her. I saw her go down, and I knew that we were in trouble. The bandit that had shot her whooped and rushed close, batting aside her weapon. He grabbed her arms and began to haul her away.

  What was his plan? Capture and ransom? Something worse?

  I didn’t know, but I rushed forward, my muscles straining with the effort. Unlike a man born in null-G, I wasn’t graceful and quick—but I was strong.

  The claim-jumper turned to face me, surprised. He lifted his pistol, but I smashed it down. He wasn’t ready for my strength. I hit him with everything I had, my fists connecting with his ribs, and I felt the satisfying crunch of thin bones giving way.

  He went down, and I knew that I had him. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and I knew that I was stronger than he was.

  I crushed him, my muscles bulging with the effort. And then, as I stood there panting, I realized that we’d won. Charley was gone—but so were the claim-jumpers. They’d run off the moment they’d seen the guy I’d knocked flat go limp. He had an officer’s markings on his shoulders, and I figured he was their leader.

  We had emerged victorious.

  Captain Hansen lay on the ground, her arm bubbling blood which boiled then froze as it left her suit. Her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and anger. Perhaps she was somewhat ashamed, too.

  I’d barely caught my breath after the fight when I heard the sound of more Borag marines approaching. The foreman was leading them. They looked angry, and I knew what that meant.

  I’d been so focused on the fight that I had forgotten about my work. I was supposed to be mining, but instead, I’d been fighting claim-jumpers. Now, they were here to make me pay for it.

  They grabbed me roughly, and I winced in pain as they hit me with their shock-rods. They didn’t even bother to tell me why—but knew the answer. I was away from my work and way over the limits of my break-time.

  I was soon on my belly, crawling over the rocks and gasping for air, but they didn’t stop. They kept zapping me, over and over, until I thought I would pass out.

  But then I heard a familiar voice. It was Captain Hansen, and she was ordering them to stop. I looked up, and I saw her standing there, holding a patch to her arm. She returned my gaze evenly.

  “He’s a tough one, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “That he is, Captain. A beast of a miner—but disobedient. There’s almost no point to beating on him. He doesn’t learn. I don’t think he even really feels it.”

  The captain studied me. She was the only one there who wasn’t glaring and full of anger.

  “I’m short one fighter, Starn,” she said at last. “Will you take the job?”

  I was stunned. Could I really serve as a security man, or better yet, a marine on her ship? That was dangerous work—but it meant I’d be free from the mines, free from the endless cycle of debt and servitude. Marines didn’t have to work for air and food. Such things were provided in their contracts.

  I looked at her, my heart racing with excitement and fear. Could I do it? Could I really become a security man, a member of her crew?

  Then I looked at my workmates surrounding us, and I knew that I didn’t have a choice. They were scowling and angry—the foreman was the worst of all. His face was twisted up into a mask of rage. I had to take the job, or I would be back in the mines, beaten and broken.

  I nodded, feeling a sense of hope rising up inside me. As I climbed to my feet and stood, my muscles still ached from the beatings—but I didn’t care. I was free—or at least, I was on my way to freedom.

  Captain Hansen looked at me, her eyes full of careful calculation. She knew I would serve her well out of gratitude, if nothing else.

  Daring to smile, I reached out to shake her hand. She allowed it. In that moment, I knew I’d made the right decision. I had taken a step toward freedom, toward a life that was no longer completely controlled by others.

  Sure, marines tended to live even shorter lives than rock-rats, but at least it was a life that provided a level of pride.

  Chapter 3: The Recruit

  The year was 2125, and Earth-Gov ran most of our Solar System. They did so not through a politicians and nation-states, but rather through conglomerates known as mega-corporations. These conglomerates had no regional identity. They were instead interconnected through various nexus-points of power.

  However, beneath this level, many smaller companies existed. Among them, independent space-faring vessels functioned as companies in their own right.

  The planets, moons, and the asteroid belt had all been explored in the latter decades of the twenty-first century. The exploitation of this vast source of mineral wealth was the focus of countless one-ship operations.

  The exploratory vessel Borag was just such an independent company. Borag was a combination patrol ship and mining rig. Our captain had a reputation for efficiency and cost-effectiveness. It was her duty to enforce contracts and search for unauthorized pirate vessels owned by competing conglomerates. At the same time, she was on an endless quest for rich veins of minerals among the countless rocks that floated in the far-flung corners of the Solar System.

  I felt a sense of excitement and trepidation as I stepped onto Borag’s mid-decks. As a miner, I’d never made it above the ship’s waistline before. It was a heady feeling, knowing I’d just been promoted into the ship’s security forces.

  I was no longer a D-Class rock-rat, no longer trapped in the mines. I was now a member of Captain Hansen’s crew. From now on, my job was to keep the ship and her crew safe.

  But as I made my way to the marine’s quarters, I was stopped by Borag’s executive officer, Commander Kaine. He was a formidable presence. His stern expression gave him an air of authority and power. He was a tall man, with chiseled features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.

  Despite his imposing appearance, there was a hint of weariness in his eyes, as if he had seen more than his fair share of danger and hardship. He had served aboard Borag for years, and his experience showed in the way he carried himself.

  As the ship’s executive officer, Kaine was responsible for the safety and well-being of the crew, and he took that responsibility seriously. He was a man of action, always willing to lead from the front and put himself in harm’s way for the good of the mission.

  Kaine looked at me with disdain as he perused my documents online. The more he examined them, the more his look of disapproval grew, as if I were nothing more than a worthless asset.

  “You can’t join security,” he said finally, his voice filled with contempt. “You owe too much on your contract.”

  I gaped like a fish. I felt a sense of panic rising up inside me. I’d thought I was free—but now it seemed that I was still trapped. The foreman was going to be in a terrible mood if I returned to my bunk on the lowest decks.

  But then I heard Captain Hansen’s voice. She had followed me, and she looked determined.

  “It’s my decision, Commander,” she said, her voice cold and hard, “I’ll pay the difference myself.”

  My jaw sagged low. Captain Hansen was willing to pay off my debt? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “Thank you, Captain,” I said with disbelief in my voice.

  She twisted up her lips, and I did my best to think straight. I cleared my throat and turned back to the exec again. Commander Kaine was red-faced, but he controlled himself. I got the feeling he didn’t want me joining his security contingent—but that was just too damned bad for him.

  “All right, then,” Kaine said. “I’ve got no further objections. Put your biometrics right here, Contract.”

  I stared at the tablet he held up. A confusing legal document was displayed, and I knew I wasn’t expected to read it. Reading it would probably enrage everyone as it would be a rude waste of their time.

  It was time to make a decision. Did I want to join the security teams, or did I want to go back to the mines? I wasn’t a trained fighter, and fresh security recruits died even more often than rock-rats did. It was a serious choice, but I knew what I had to do.

  “Are you brain-dead or something?” the exec demanded. “Press your frigging digits down here or go back to your drill-bots!”

  Jolted into action, I pressed each finger down on the tablet, one after the other. Then I let the device scan my retina.

  Just like that, I’d signed up with ship’s security. Feeling a sense of sick excitement and floating unreality, I realized I was no longer a D-Contract rock-rat. I was no longer a victim of the mining company’s greed.

  I was now a member of Borag’s crew. Officially, I was a C-Contract—a special breed.

  The exec spun around and stalked off. I barely had the brains to follow him. The captain, for her part, had disappeared during the lengthy signing process.

  One nice thing about serving on the mid-decks was immediately obvious: they had windows up here. These apertures were open for viewing whenever the ship was far from dangerous particles.

  Looking out through Borag’s windows at the asteroid belt, I was struck by the vastness of deep space. The blackness of the void stretched out endlessly in all directions, broken only by the occasional glint of starlight or the jagged shape of a nearby asteroid.

  Around us, the asteroids loomed like giant monoliths, their rough surfaces pockmarked by countless craters and fissures. They were silent and still, like ancient sentinels standing guard over the secrets of the universe.

  But even in the midst of this stillness, there was a sense of motion and energy. The stars seemed to sparkle with a life of their own, and the asteroids shimmered with the reflected light of distant suns.

  At the start of the next shift, I was introduced to the other marines—and I could immediately feel their disdain for me. I was still an outsider, a former rock-rat trying to shoulder my way into a world of better men.

  They were in the middle of a training exercise, a grueling series of drills designed to test their physical and mental strength. Without being given any time to catch up, I was tossed into join them. I pushed myself harder than I’d ever done before, determined to show that I was worthy of being a marine.

  But as I struggled to complete the drills, I could feel their eyes on me. They were watching, waiting for me to fail. I was particularly poor at marksmanship, as I’d never held a gun in my hands before.

  “Come on, Starn,” Private Ledbetter sneered. “Is that all you’ve got? Maybe you should go back to drilling on those fat rocks instead of trying to hit one with your rifle.”

  I gritted my teeth, not wanting to show any weakness. “Fuck you guys,” I said, my voice filled with frustration.

  They laughed, and I could feel my anger rising.

  “You think this is a joke?” I said, my voice full of bitterness. “I’m out here giving everything I have, and you’re just laughing at me.”

  “Look, kid,” another marine said. It was Corporal Tench, and his voice was as cold and hard as space itself. “You weren’t born to this life, and I can tell already you’ll never be one of us.”

  I felt a sense of rage boiling up inside me, and I could feel my fists clenching. “You want to arm-wrestle?” I asked. “No? How about any of the rest of you?”

  But they just laughed again, and I could feel my anger deepening.

  “You may be strong, kid,” Tench told me. “But an ox is strong. That doesn’t mean you have what it takes to be a marine. Let’s kick things up a notch.”

  Then, in the middle of the drill, everything changed. The holo-environment transformed from a featureless shooting range into a battlefield. The simulator had been designed to model a combat situation—and suddenly, we were under attack.