Chapter 3

Conmer slowly walked through the halls of Zaken’s satellite base, keeping his finger on the trigger of his empty gun. He could tell from the nervous looks on their faces that all the workers watching him pass were civilians, but it wouldn’t be long before one of them mustered up some courage and tried to play hero.
A homgen off in the corner was desperately trying to pretend she wasn’t calling the police. Conmer needed to leave, fast. Even if he had to leave his dignity behind and sprint off like a startled cat. Not that abandoning his dignity was a drastic action for him. Despite what his collected and confident demeanor might imply, Conmer valued his life and freedom highly, and intangible things such as pride and honor very little.
Conmer took off at full speed, coming to a swift halt in front of a large door frame. On the other side of the frame was a long thin platform reaching out into the vast starry skies of space. There was no door or airlock, but a slight green tint and the occasional ripple that filtered everything on the other side resolved any mystery as to what kept the oxygen inside. Conmer reached into his jacket and pushed a button. After a second or two it became a little difficult to breathe, as he felt pressure on his skin and the flavor of the air changed. It didn’t take long for him to adjust though, which was good, since the air supply only lasted an hour. Some would call this plenty of time, but Conmer knew that when things go wrong, every second counts.
A refreshing feeling washed over Conmer as he stepped through the doorway, like he had just exited a body of water. He ducked as a corpse floated past him, a convenient reminder that there was no natural gravity on the satellite.
“Captain.” Conmer glanced over to his left. Standing there was a genzin man in his late 30s, leaning up against a small shuttle, only half again as big as a pickup truck. Like most genzin, he was a head shorter than a rosearn with a thin but muscled frame. He wore light battle armor, though you couldn’t tell from looking at him, and kept a thin, slightly curved sword sheathed on his hip. Surrounding him were several more corpses, some floating, some laying on the ground. None of them had any slash wounds, only the bruises of blunt trauma.
“Oh for- Genrou! If you insist on continuing to not use your sword, at least bring a gun or something!” Conmer pulled open the door to the cruiser, scooting over to the driver’s seat. “Now come on, the police are coming.”
Genrou scowled. “My blade is my soul, I-”
“-refuse to taint my soul, blood of cowards, won’t use any weapon that isn’t bound, yadda-yadda honor and enchiladas. I know. Just get in the damn shuttle.”
“I’d prefer to stay.” Genrou glanced longingly out toward the stars as he placed a hand just beneath the hilt of his sword. “I’ve heard good things about the local law enforcement. This could be my chance to finally meet a worthy opponent.”
“Except they’re deploying a whole squadron, just to deal with two people. Doesn’t sound super honorable or worthy to me.”
“There is wisdom to your words…” Genrou climbed into the vehicle, closing the door behind him. “Though your tone is unpleasant. Now go, the sooner we can get away from these infuriating empty battles the better.”

A note from the author ninja:

If you’re wondering how Conmer knew they were deploying an entire squadron, well…

He didn’t.