The metal walls of the lesser-used access corridors were pitted and corroded, the weld marks standing out like infected scars along the seams where they had been joined. The different posters that had been set up all over the available surface did nothing to brighten the corridor, rather their promises of cheap implants, cheaper women and even cheaper liquor had been merged into a wall of semi-smudged pictures that blended with and enhanced the dirt that was ever present. A single light panel was flickering on and off randomly; the others were not working. Draeked wouldn't have passed this way normally but he was late for work today. He half-ran along ensuring that his clothes didn't touch the walls. The white fabric would attract the filth like flies on a turd and Mr. Landerplats would probably fire him for the slightest smudge.
A filthy bundle of rags and flesh was sitting halfway down the corridor, a bottle at his feet and a smell of Teh Killa and unwashed body emanating like the noxious fumes from a chemical cesspool. Draeked slowed down in order to step around the human wreckage and passed without looking. A hand grabbed his right leg and stopped his movement. Irritated that the bum had touched him and probably dirtied his uniform, Draeked turned angry and ready to pummel the man to be let free. He saw the glimmer of metal that seemed to appear out of nowhere and move from the side of the bundle of filth up towards his face or rather his neck. A warm stinging feeling spread across his neck and a warm sensation flowed across his chest downwards. Draeked looked down but discovered that he couldn't bend his head forwards. He felt a sharp pain from the inner side of his upper thigh and tried to move his hand down to discover what it was. His hand reached halfway when his head started spinning and there was another sharp pain on the other thigh. The world slowly contracted to a pinpoint and closed. Draeked would no longer be late for work. The gush of blood that had stopped pumping out when the heart gave in continued its slow seepage from the three gashes and mixed with the filthy floor. The assailant got up from the half sitting position and shambled away from his victim, light reflected from the erroneous lamp blinking from the straight razor he held in his left hand like the light from a stroboscope, his bloody foot steps marking his exit.
###
She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again, the harsh white light from the surgical lamps sending flares of pain into her brain and blinding her. She took a hand up in front of her ayes to shield and kept it there until the lamp had been removed.
"Welcome back Catherine."
"Cat."
She growled it, her mouth as dry as if she had been lying in the desert with her mouth open for a month. She grabbed the glass of water that was placed near the bed she was lying on and drank all of it in one long swallow.
"Just Cat thanks."
"Right. If you will please sign here, here and here?"
The medical attendant pushed some papers into Cat's hands and provided her with a pen.
"What is it?"
She was too bleary-eyed to actually read the text, a common side effect of the deep-sleep that life support pods put you in. The attendant skimmed the papers while answering.
"Nothing to worry about. Standard contracts stating that you are alive as a consequence of our treatment, that you have insurance and that you, ah, i see, that you were personally responsible for your loss of ship."
Cat signed the first two documents and looked at the third one. It was a waiver that ensured that only Cat was to blame for the destruction of her ship. She tried to understand the legaleese but failed horribly, signing in the end out of pure frustration.
"Thank you Ms. Your system looks to be completely healthy, no harm to your implants at all either. You can leave now if you want to."
She nodded wearily and sat up halfway leaning on one elbow. She rested for some seconds before swinging her feet out to the side and into her combat boots. She sighed deeply and secured the velcro straps before standing, anticipating the nausea that always followed awakening.
"Damn I hate this."
"Yeah, it can be rough at times."
Cat looked at the attendant without understanding what he said until she realised that he had answered her. She had actually been talking to herself. She nodded in distracted reply and got up from the bed, grabbed her things and walked towards the headquarters of HSCS for her mission debriefing.
###
The two large Serco marines exited the airlock with their smaller prisoner between them, their uniform and manner a deterrent to any questions or trouble. Yet somehow it looked as if the captive was leading the group, as if he was in charge. On the far side of the airlock, just before the customs officers he turned and presented his wrists to the marines who unlocked the heavy restraints. The former captive grinned at the marines, clapped one on the shoulder and walked proudly over to the opulent customs officer.
"ID."
"I do not have any, I request asylum and citizenship as a member of Aeolus."
"Right, I'll get someone for you right away."
Asteroth knew the procedure; after all he had helped countless Serco recruits to leave their homeland behind in preparation for Diplomatic Service. He had the five cred sticks with a thousand UIT credits that were needed as well as the right cover story. It was all that the chief could do for him but it would be sufficient. The officer returned with two rent-a-cops and a smirk.
"Just follow these fine gentlemen and we'll have you sorted out in no time at all."
Asteroth frowned, he did not expect the smirk or the slightly overweight overpaid and overzealous station cops.
"Is there some kind of problem?"
Asteroth shook his head and smiled to the customs officer as he walked past. The two rent-a-cops took him into an office that bare walls except for a poster for joining the UPK, the UIT military branch, a metal table with a single chair filled by an obese rent-a-cop. Some kind of seven-pointed star adorned his shoulder, probably a rank of some sort. He looked up and smiled as Asteroth entered, not a smile of joy but one that was very unpleasant.
"I see my retirement fund has just arrived."
Asteroth frowned again, what was this?
"Excuse me? What do you mean?"
"New rules for scum like you. If you want to get asylum here in Aeolus Trading Prefect the cost has risen slightly."
Asteroth nodded, so it was about greed. That he could handle; after all he had some emergency funds he had stashed away before going on that last fatal mission.
"And what might that cost be?"
"21.788.324 standard UIT credits."
Asteroth cursed internally but did show any emotion at all. How they had gained access to his accounts was a problem he had to look into at a later time, right now they were going to rip him of even the limited means he had.
"What if I do not have that kind of money? Or won't pay if I do?"
"Then you get to see the airlock from a very different perspective, namely from the outside."
"I see. And what would paying yield me in return?"
"A citizenship. And a chance to choose your own way to exit the station by any means that you would like and can afford."
The customs officer smirked even more; he was quite aware that Asteroth was going to be broke and could maybe afford a Gov-Bus. Not that he would have anywhere to go.
"Very well. I imagine that you have everything set up and that you only need for me to sign somewhere?"
He was handed a tablet with a DNA reader that he pressed his thumb against, acknowledging that his entire hidden stash was transferred to some other account. The customs officer checked that the money had arrived on his account before fishing for a document in one of his drawers. He opened it and decided it was the right one before tossing it with contempt to the other side of the table.
"Welcome to Aeolus Peter Friis."
Asteroth took the passport and grimaced at the licenses inside. 0/0/0/0/0. This was not going to be easy in the least.
