I stepped out of the shower, cold droplets beading on my skin, and grabbed a towel from the bar. Scrubbing my face vigorously, I crossed the white-tiled floor to the mirror. Draping the towel around my neck, I stared at my reflection.
Silver eyes stared back, framed by a week’s worth of stubble on my cheeks and chin. The eyes blinked, then traced down my body. White scars crisscrossed my arms and torso, a roadmap of old battles. A new one, angry and red, stood out a couple of inches below my ribs. If I stretched and looked over my shoulder—which I didn’t—I’d spot another, long and jagged, running diagonally across my back.
An hour a day in my one-man med bay, lying on my back in the ReGen pod, had sealed the wounds from my fight with the mantis god. But the scars were here to stay.
I shook my head. Morbid thoughts. I closed my eyes and scrubbed the damp from my shoulder-length blond hair. After tugging on a pair of gray sweats, I left the bathroom shirtless and walked down the corridor toward the cockpit.
Lilith waited in the copilot’s chair, sheathed, her black gladius radiating an aura of quiet menace. Somehow, it was comforting. Stars slipped past the cockpit windows, the ship slicing through the endless dark at speeds faster than I cared to calculate.
“Almost there,” I murmured, patting Lilith’s hilt. “After this, maybe we’ll take a break.”
I pulled my hand away without waiting for an answer. Not that she could answer while sheathed. The binding runes kept her soul locked inside the blade, only allowing her to slip partially free when it was drawn.
I wasn’t looking for a response anyway—just filling the silence. Above the array of buttons, dials, and blinking lights on the dashboard sat my latest prize: a coin. Seven days it had been there, glinting at me while I adjusted our course or propped my feet up, watching stars streak by.
“Damn it…” I muttered, leaning forward to grab the coin. “Might as well get this over with.”
Clutching the golden disk in my palm, I strode out of the cockpit. Its uneven surface pressed into my skin, and for a fleeting moment, I considered throwing it away just to feel the frustration of chasing it down.
“Get it together, Lucian,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
At the end of the corridor, a door awaited, fitted with a keypad and handprint scanner.
4688 478 868.
The keypad beeped softly, and the scanner flashed from red to green. The door slid open with a muted whoosh, revealing a golden world.
The room was paneled in rich wood, modeled after the cabin of an old seafaring ship. It was small but cozy, with a desk at one end I rarely used and a leather chair that once held dreams of lazy reading on long voyages.
Time had hardened me. Relaxation was a luxury I could afford but refused to indulge in.
Three of the four walls gleamed with racks of coins, golden disks stacked neatly with their faces outward. They caught the warm light from a corner lamp that flicked on as I entered. Three hundred seventy-eight golden aurei. Each coin a bounty. A third of the wall space was covered now, the reflected glow casting deep, dark shadows.
I walked to the desk, leaning back against it, my weight on my hands. My eyes roamed the coins as I rolled my shoulders, the twin scars running down my back itching faintly.
“Worth it?” I asked aloud, the words hollow and familiar. I used to have an answer for that. Now, I wasn’t sure.
Crossing to the nearest rack, I slotted the coin into place. It clinked softly as it settled into the column, instantly blending with the others.
The golden wall blurred together, just like the bounties that had earned it.
The priest’s voice echoed in my memory: A thousand coins, a thousand deaths, my son. That is the price. Heavy, indeed, even for someone like you…
That had been forty years ago, on a planet at the far edge of the universe. I hadn’t been back since. For all I knew, the old man was dead, and this entire mission was pointless.
A soft ping jarred me from my thoughts. Sighing, I turned and left the room. The door whispered shut behind me as a gentle, synthetic voice came over the speakers.
“Approaching Vouter R66, Orbital Station: Clarion. Will the captain please report to the cockpit for manual landing?”
I slipped into the pilot’s chair, watching through the front windows as the Clarion orbital space station came into view.
The station resembled a star: a domed central column with six long spokes extending outward. Pipes, antennae, and trusses jutted from every surface, blinking lights and spinning dishes lending it an almost organic quality.
Beyond the Clarion loomed Vouter R66, shining green in the light of its small sun. A jungle world, its continents were vast swaths of twisted trees and bloodthirsty insects. There were no cities, no lights, and as far as I knew, no gods.
Godless. I mulled the word, my mouth twisting. A rare thing these days. Most planets were claimed by some divine entity, demanding loyalty from their subjects.
Gods. A subject I was thoroughly sick of.
My hands moved across the dash, flipping switches and easing the ship’s speed. Several soft pings echoed through the cabin, followed by the synthetic voice.
“Incoming communication from Orbital Station: Clarion.”
I hit a blinking button on the console, and a new voice crackled through the speakers. “Incoming spacecraft, please identify yourself.”
I recognized the voice.
“Clarion, this is Umbra,” I replied, keeping my tone low and calm. “Requesting permission to approach.” Then, with a soft chuckle, I added, “Chester, you bastard, just let me dock already.”
There was the faintest trace of amusement in his response. “Spacecraft Umbra, you are cleared to approach. Proceed to Dock Epsilon.”