Chapter 1

Marcus Howell hated the cold. It made the parts of him that were still ‘him’ hurt in ways that even his nanite pain dampeners couldn’t quite quell. At over two meters tall and weighing more than 180 kilos, he cut an impressive, if not intimidating figure. Howell was not a small man, by any count. Dark-brown hair, close cut; a habit from his time in the Terran military. Dark-brown eyes flecked with silver, on a rugged face with a strong chin with light stubble. His barrel chest and slight belly showed his love of eating, while the leather jacket that stretched across his huge biceps advertised his love of weightlifting. He shivered heavily, letting out a hot breath and tugging his thick leather jacket tighter across his frame as he strode down a stone-hewn corridor.

It was always cold in Port Odisa, the main settlement on Triton, Neptune’s largest moon; the environmental systems barely kept pace with heat loss. With a thin nitrogen atmosphere and a surface covered in ice, Triton was one of the coldest places in the Sol system. Even its molten core could barely keep a couple miles of liquid water from freezing below the surface ice. However, even being as cold as the moon was, it was uniquely situated to be the ideal location for an interstellar refueling station. Cut into a mountain on the equator of the moon, it served as the first and last stop in and out of the Sol System, offering fuel, water, and other goods.

The tunnel ahead of Howell brightened significantly as he came up to one of the many windows in the rock, weak sunlight pouring into the hallway. He slowed and looked out as he walked. In the distance, the atmosphere was a shallow fog, mostly from the cryovolcanoes that dotted the surface. Down below the mountain, large pipes raced across the surface ice, leading from the many water pumping stations to the mountain’s facilities. Far above the surface, Howell spotted a SATO cruiser making its approach to the port’s orbital space elevator, no doubt to refuel.

Howell turned back and pushed on, focusing on getting to where he needed to be. As he walked, a small mechanical bird head peeked up from under his collar, watching the various species that crowded the different platforms and walkways as Howell passed them. The head tracked on several different interesting characters, scanning each one in turn. 

There was an enormous Kerasii, an alien species not unlike a bipedal rhinoceros, with a large horn protruding from its face, covered with colorful woven garb and criss-crossed with small decorative chains. Howell could make out her clan’s Mark, carved into the side of her horn. She was tending to a larger hovercart with a pallet of what could be best described as watermelon sized plums, a staple fruit from her homeworld. They would sell for a high price in Sol, especially in the Belt or any of the stations.

Further along the track, a small pack of wolf-like Lupae Lycanius was fussing over luggage, the elder Lycan heaving two large suitcases up as his mate and their two juvenile cubs followed closely. Dressed in long travel cloaks, they stood out among the casual wear of most other beings. The Lycans tended to travel in groups, and sought to do so swiftly, almost always traveling with no luggage if they could help it. Their most important belongings were stored under the cloak, protecting them from view. 

Near the end of the platform, there was a large group of moth-like Tinso, their brightly-colored woven coverings announcing their presence to all. The patterns and colors of their clothes were a language in of themselves, identifying themselves to other Tinso. Their bodies had fur of various shades of white, gray, and black, and so they sought out more complicated patterns, colors, and hues in order to make themselves stand out. The most influential Tinso had the most variety of patterns and bright, vibrant colors.

The small mechanical head watched them in fascination as Howell walked. The large human glanced at the bright and colorful moths before glancing down at the small beak poking out of his collar.

“Later, Hu,” Howell said softly, reaching up to pat the bird’s beak gently. “We have somewhere to be.”

There was a series of chirps, and Howell chuckled and nodded as his companion spoke directly to his communication implant. Hungry!

“Yes, I’ll be sure to order when we get there. Sorry for not getting breakfast this morning.”

Howell patted the bird beak again, and it slid back underneath his collar and out of sight. He mentally admonished himself for skipping breakfast for himself and Hugin. Even if he was mechanical and composed of nanotech, the bird still needed to consume biomass to keep running. And if there was one thing Howell hated, it was skipping a meal. But when an opportunity comes knocking, you answer.

Howell grimaced as he trudged along the main transit hub of the port, ducking to avoid a vent, bypassing the blast of chilled air. He grumbled to himself, tightened his collar as much as he could, and pressed on for the tram station ahead of him. He idly checked the time displayed on his implant, making sure he was keeping to schedule.

He ignored the squabblings of a group of Crustovians, small shellfish-like scavengers. As he passed, Howell held his breath silently, trying his best to ignore the repulsive odor of the crustacean-like beings, his eyes watering slightly from the salty and filthy smell. They consumed just about any organic waste, and had no conventions about hygiene, so much of the Galaxy just left them to their business.

 Hugin popped out and watched as they fought over a piece of technology, each one trying to haggle and bargain with the bigger Cravatoa. It seemed that the bigger one had made a particularly valuable find that morning, much to the envy of the smaller beings. Howell certainly didn’t envy their lifestyle, being the scavengers and pilferers of the Galaxy, but he had to admit that they had a knack for resourcefulness and technology that he admired.

As he approached the security checkpoint, he gave a small sigh of relief when he saw there wasn’t a long line. Stepping up, he fell in line behind a rather small Eledia, a snake-like being with mottled green and brown scales. She was bundled up in all manner of heavy clothes and heated garments, almost lost in the amount of layers she was wearing. Howell immediately felt a pang of pity for the reptilian, as Triton would definitely be considered a hostile environment for her. Even though Howell was as warm blooded as you could get for a Terran, he was still shivering in the station’s environment. She glanced back at him, and he gave her a friendly smile and a nod, which she returned, her tongue flicking out and back in as she smelled the air.

Eledia were one of Howell’s favorite species, being fiercely intelligent as well as beautiful in their own way. The sheer variety in skin colors and patterns of scales meant that it was almost impossible to find identical Eledia. Most of them were shy at the start, but were surprisingly loyal and dedicated friends, once you established yourself as trustworthy. Howell had many friends among the Eledia, ones he couldn’t wait to talk to again once he completed his task. 

They shuffled forward a couple of meters, slowly, as each being was scanned for contraband and verified by the system. Anything that flagged on the milli-wave scanner meant waiting for a full spectrum scan, and Howell definitely didn’t have time for that.

“Hu, incognito mode. Be sure the chip is locked up tight,” Howell whispered. There was a single small beep in his mind as the nanotech bird retracted all of its parts to form a vambrace on Howell’s left arm, taking the shape of a small tablet device that looked exactly like any normal wrist-mounted long-range comm device.

Howell stepped up to the scanner and held out his arms, waiting as the multi-spectrum scanners went over his body. A second later, the green light blinked on, and the Terran guard waved him through without a sound. Howell nodded to the guard and hustled to the waiting elevator car, stopping only to let the Eledia on first. They both sighed in the warmth of the heated compartment before sharing a smile. They were joined by others entering the elevator, until the doors chimed.

The doors closed with a hiss, sealing the car air-tight, and then a second later, they were off, launching up through the rock. Howell let the inertia sink into him as the elevators accelerated past 1.2g. An ache in his neck prompted him to twist slightly, popping the vertebrae loudly. A couple of seconds later, another announcement was made for their arrival to the Merchant Floor.