Like a slithering snake camouflaged in tall grass, Jake evaded the Moldan’s squadrons surrounding the Prison. The cloaking device proved to be instrumental in this undertaking.

  After guiding his ship to the bottom of the crater, he maneuvered into the cargo bay. Soft white lights hummed as they illuminated the locker containing his supplies.

  Sitting on a steel box, Jake inspected the Lifor Dart. Slowly and carefully, he opened its small hatch, checking to see if the strings were pushed back. The experience of the operation was reminiscent of a child’s slingshot, except there were no rocks.

  The locker was a small reminder of his old barrack footlocker. In contrast, it represented exclusiveness; he was alone, isolated from any form of a platoon. He wondered, will I ever work with another partner, or will I be destined to fight alone? He knew his chances of finding anyone here were small; it would not be advisable to become overly friendly with prisoners.

  Frustrated with himself, he set the idea aside. For the time being, he needed to focus on the objective at hand.

  To keep in touch with his administrator, Jake toggled the com on his left forearm. Luckily, both Laurance and Jake were in the Sol sector where ninety-nine percent of the time, the communication lines were secure. If problems did occur, they typically happen while using a highly secure channel.

  I should ring Laurance before he gets mad as a cabbage monster, Jake thought. I hope the conversation is short; the extraction is my only concern.

  “Laurence, this is Avolskey speaking,” Jake said. “I’m prepping my gear right now. Should be on the move soon.”

  While waiting for a response, he methodically loaded 10 non-lethal darts until it was fully loaded. The darts would allow him to retain his element of surprise. Thus, buying him time to achieve his mission. With careful precision, he could end any adversary rightly. Be it by lead or dart.

  “Excellent, were you spotted?” Laurence asked.

  “Negative, my position was not compromised. I repeat, my position was not compromised.”

  “Very well… Be warned that the Moldans have gained control of the security. In the event you are spotted during the operation, the entire facility will be in lockdown. Do you understand?”

  “Will do. Avolsky signing out,” Jake spoke before disabling his com.

  “Good luck, Avolsky.”

  Jake reached into a cabinet to retrieve a fully loaded Eurrora 98. The gun’s suppressor made it ideal for stealth operations. Switching off the safety, he was ready to proceed. Just like a submarine submerging into the vastness of the ocean, he descended the platform of his ship and entered the unknown.

  Originally, the crater was void of living creatures. However, the UGF designed cutting-edge atmosphere technology that converted molecules into oxygen. An invisible electric barrier trapped the transformed gas and constantly recycled the carbon dioxide released by all the imported life forms. It also regulated the temperature of the atmosphere; it defaulted at 69.8 degrees. Just like Earth, he could walk freely.

  The asteroid itself was void of light. Man-made construction lights lined the rim of the crater, casting a shadow over everything. Jake stood at the center, looking up. He spotted two separate doors. One door led to the prison, the other to the command post. To his right, midway up the crater wall, he saw a small dry cave. Its retracted ladder was impossible to reach. Clearly, it was used for emergency scenarios.

  Time to get cracking, Jake thought.

  Following Jake’s left turn, he proceeded along the ridge, heading towards a rocky ravine. Walking down the ravine, he spotted a hidden fan swirling counterclockwise. The fan, which was connected to a cooling system, helped regulate the temperature. To steer clear of Moldan’s thugs, Jake devised a plan to make use of the vent system.

  According to the intel, the base had two types of tunnels, one for ventilation and one for running electrical. Running alongside the edge, Jake jumped over several deep crevasses until he reached a large, loud ventilation unit.

  To access the tunnel, he would first have to disable the fan. He burned the control lock with his torch. After a few minutes, the lock dropped to the ground. The door swung, and he flipped the switch to shut down the fan. Patiently, he stood by, waiting for the blades to gradually slow down and eventually come to a complete halt. Lighting the torch again, he melted the blades, kicking them away with his mighty boots.

  Jake stealthily crawled inside the vent and made his way into the secure prison facility. There was no going back; the break-in was underway.

  ***

  A military convoy pulled up to the drop zone; replenishing supplies prior to the anticipated UGF retaliation was a top priority. The personnel were exclusively Oblivains. Hiring outside of their ancestry line was only done under approved conditions. Their bodies were long and worm-like. Their uniquely large eyes combined with small ears, made them easily identifiable.

  Having just liberated the prison, taking a moment to celebrate was ill advised. Time was not on their side. Each of them knew that supplies were vital to maintaining their military position.

  As one truck pulled away, the next vehicle began positioning itself to drop off its load. The guards took this opportunity to grab a quick puff. They stood watching the driving as a gentle breeze blew the smoke gracefully across the bay. The job itself was not appealing, however, the extra credits they earned for unloading each load were motivating enough to keep them going. They rushed to finish before the UGF forces arrived.

  Serving as the central hub, the command post played a crucial role in coordinating the entire operation. Both internally and externally, the Moldan leaders were fully aware of the current activities. They understood the heightened security measures were critical to ward off potential intruders. Should any irregularities arise during the operation, the command post would promptly notify all members and direct them to abandon the prison, ensuring a safe retreat to their ships. It was like watching for thunderstorms; they knew they would be forced to retreat once the main thunderstorm covered the base.

  Here at last, a Moldan thought.

  After engaging his brakes, the driver killed the engine. The cargo doors opened, revealing large neatly stacked boxes; each containing Quadro ore. The ore was close to reaching its destination - the flight hangar. The last step was to physically move the crates to a floating cargo transportation unit. Designed to be flexible, they could easily navigate through the small transport tunnels, which ultimately led to the hanger. With the first load in their grasp, the workers started the lengthy process of transporting the crates.

  “Holy crap, I did not expect to see this much Quadro ore in one spot,” a Moldan said. The sheer volume left him thoroughly amazed. The powerful resource had been recovered from the deepest depths of the asteroid. Once extracted, a unique conversion tool was utilized to transform the ore into fuel.

  Now, Quadro fuel was exclusively labeled military use only, public consumption was illegal. Border patrols at all ports scanned ships to detect its presence; if found, it was confiscated before it made its way to the open market. The demand for fuel within the vast expanse of the galaxy was high; individuals with criminal intent leveraged the black-market supply chain to cover their tracks. The risks were astronomical, but if done successfully, they had the potential of walking away rich.

  “Eye, and we’re barely scratching the surface,” another Moldan gestured.

  “What do you mean we’re only ‘scratching the surface’?” He responded curiously.

  “Well, I hear that there is a prototype fighter locked away in the hangar bay,” one Moldan said.

  “Any idea what type?”

  “Hmm, let me see… Ah! Yes. I know what it is. I heard there’s a ship called ‘Seis Madu X’, also nicknamed ‘Saber 1’. Originally designed to be a specialized police vehicle, they are equipped with private luxury beds - certainly not what you see on military ships.”

  “You know, I could use a bed when I’m done with my shift.”

  “That’s only half of the story,” he gestured with enthusiasm. “One of my sources hinted that during the experiment phase, a test was conducted using a high-tech weapon like the standard issue Malvue-44 fighter. Also, its newly designed engine sets it apart from most UGF fighters.

  “Now we’re talking. Any idea what this sucker is using?”

  “I believe the engine is called Peus-500. If I remember correctly, it has major improvements over the Peus-300. If the Saber 1 and a Caliber Police fighter went against each other, I’m certain the Saber 1 would beat the Caliber’s speed by over 25 meters.”

  “Is there any chance we might secure a ‘Saber 1’?”

  “We may bring one home once we’re done here,” a Moldan answered. “Just sit tight. Best if we don’t get too carried away, alright?”

  “Certainly.”

  While working, he thought: I wonder how my brother heard about this ship. He must have read about it on the dark web; tech companies would never openly disclose classified military equipment. I need to remember to ask him about his sources.

  “Hey! I just saw in the news that a newcomer is now rated as the fastest racer in the galaxy,” another Moldan added to the conversation. “His name is Elvis, his finishing time for the latest race on planet Earth blew everyone else away.”

  “Oh really? Who did he go up against?”

  “Audoson. Holy crap, Elvis’s god damn ride was pimped up a notch.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You mean to tell me you have never seen his ride? It’s very high-tech, state-of-the art. No human has been able to replicate it.”

  Do you really think it pays to place needless bets on a top tier racer? Thought a co-worker who was listening to the conversation. I don’t believe he is the best; he won’t stay in first place for long.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “Did you place bets on him to win the next race?”

  “Absolutely, he is the best racer I’ve ever seen.”

  “Ahh... But are you sure that ‘he’ is the best? You know the odds are not in your favor.”

  “You know what? Screw you. It’s my money, I earned it. I can do whatever I want.”

  “Well, suit yourself. If you lose all your earnings; it's on you, buddy.”

  “Whatever. I don’t give a shit.”

  Like the back of their hands, they were intimately familiar with the treasures within Dabarow Prison. Their underlying motivation for being there was centered around profit-making, overshadowing both the weapons and prisoners. Quadro Ore was a vital commodity. The more they acquired, the more invincible they would become. Their enterprise would soon become as powerful as the ore itself. They held strong convictions that controlling this treasure would render them unstoppable. But for how long?

  Without faltering, the Moldans persisted in their endeavor to unload the ore. Upon finishing the task, their next responsibility would be to transport the supplies from the storage facility to the flight hangar.

  “What the?” A Moldan muttered from within the vehicle’s cargo area. An odd scent caused his face to squint. “I smell something funny.”

  “Did you check the engine the last time you started it up?” His mate said as he continued to examine the shipment’s paperwork.

  “Yes, the vehicle is in pristine condition. This smell just started.”

  “We need to find out where it is coming from before we start the engine again.”

  “Yup, I’m on it. Just cover my ass for me. Will ya?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll take point.”

  The two thugs walked down the ramp; one inspected the exterior before crawling underneath. The integrity of the structure was maintained, but it was dirty. Sludge was splattered on the tires and walls due to the muddy roads. The vehicle looked tired after a long day of work. Fortunately, though, he spotted nothing out of the ordinary until…

  From beneath the vehicle, he heard a slight dripping noise. A leak emanating from the edge of the tank was causing the fuel to slowly seep out. He was surprised; it was protocol to inspect the tank prior to filling it. Two hours ago, there was no sign of a leak.

  Disgusted, devoting time to fixing the vehicle would result in a substantial loss of progress. Now he would have to fix it while the rest of his crew emptied the cargo.

  “Looks like we have a problem with the fuel tank. I’ll check it out.”

  Slithering slowly, he crawled under the vehicle’s bed, uncertain of the extent of the damage. A sharp piece of ore sticking out of the edge made it apparent that someone had purposefully pierced the tank.

  How the heck did this get here? He thought.

  He attempted to remove it, but it was stuck. In an instant, he was overcome by a sensation of warmth, as if a blanket had been draped over his entire body.

  The vehicle burst destroyed the cargo vehicle. Bound into flames; a subsequent explosion ensued, reducing it to countless fragments. The blast unleashed a powerful wave of destruction, causing the entire prison to shake. A crew member pulled the fire alarm, putting the entire operation on high alert. Six men laid dead, and the loading platform had sustained substantial damage.

  “Come in, central. We are under attack. Someone put a leak in one of our gas lines,” he said as he listened for his next instruction. “Understood. We’ll scout the area for hostiles.”

  At the highest point of the drop-off zone, a platform granted access to a critical storage unit. The explosion served its purpose; Jake easily slipped past the posted henchmen.

  Upon entering the room, he unexpectedly stumbled upon an enormous pile of iron crates. Some of them held Quadro Ore, while others contained ammunition, weapons, explosives. The concrete floor was covered in dirt; the room felt industrial. With each step, Jake treaded deeper into the dark room, his senses heightened in anticipation of the foes waiting for him at the bay.

  Jake found solace in the darkness. A dim light provided him with just the right amount of illumination to guide him in the right direction.

  He cautiously glanced around the corner to find two boxes placed in a parallel arrangement next to a large metal table. Three guards sat discussing what appeared to be final preparations. The process was quite time-consuming, but they knew their hard work would not go unrewarded. The explosion shook the office, forcing them to suspend their work.

  “What the hell is going on?” The leader of the group said. Clearly displeased with the situation.

  “A nasty explosion just occurred next door. It looks like it might be an accident.”

  “What makes you think of that?”

  “Look. Our boys are currently investigating the situation. As soon as they find out more, they will let us know.”

  “Do you think that UGF had something to do with it?”

  “No, I don’t see a reason why they would send special forces. They know if they did, we would be pissed; we would blow this rock apart. If you would like to prove me wrong, feel free to gather a few men and go on a scouting mission. If you catch any of them, bring me their heads.”

  “We just need to be prepared for anything.”

  After a brief pause, the planning resumed. Suddenly, the lights flickered until darkness followed, and their suspicions rose.

  “I heard a rumor that these light bulbs can glow for over a century,” one crew member said. “Are you guys familiar with that fact?”

  “Well, that must be fake. Light bulbs don’t last forever,” a Moldan sluggishly answered. He cared little about trivial rumors. “We should inspect the fuse box before we replace a bulb.”

  “Fuck it! I’ll check the fuse box. I’ll be right back,” a second crew member replied. He saw no value in continuing to argue about the matter. He just wanted to finish his shift and be done with it.

  Rising from his seat, he walked in a northerly direction towards the fuse box. Moments later, the two remaining Moldans felt something strike their chest. Their heads lowered, startled by the sensation of a poisonous dart tapping into their blood vessels, immediately a rapid flow of chemicals spread throughout their body. Like swatting at a mosquito, each of them waved their hands to dislodge the device; but it was too late. With the administration of the poison, their hearts became calm, leading them into a state of unconsciousness. The two collapsed in their chairs. Jake seized the opportunity to snatch the trading documents sitting on the table before turning back to the narrow hallway to take out the third hostile.

  The guard reached the box, completely unaware of his comrade’s demise. It did not take long for him to discover that the box had been tampered with; the door was slightly ajar, and the lock had been cut off. The damaged box enraged him. He despised fixing electrical components; he was not an engineer. While trying to restore the breakers, all activity abruptly ceased when Jake knocked the thug using a tightly clenched hammer. The concrete floor was marked with small drops of blood. The thug collapsed.

  Jake investigated his pockets to ascertain if he possessed an access key for the facility. By sheer luck, Jake found what he was looking for. This specialized key would make it easy for him to access the different sections of the building. It was not a guarantee that it would provide full access, but he was sure it would help in some restricted areas. Before leaving, he concealed the body behind one of the iron storage boxes.

  With the key in hand, Jake advanced to Darku’s prison cell. With a short beep, the key reader granted him passage to the prison entrance hallway. He was in.

  The hall was spacious. The ceiling light reflected off the steel, highly polished floors. A sign hanging on the wall indicated two routes to choose from. Leftwards were stairs leading to the elevators. To the right, there were several rooms: armory room, meeting room, and manager’s office. Moving stealthily, Jake headed towards the elevators. He readied his sidearm as he pushed through.

  Jake noticed the sound of footsteps; two thugs were making their way down the stairs. He hid behind a closed door, waiting for them to pass. Unaware of his presence, they continued their patrol.

  Jake emerged from his hiding spot and cautiously climbed the stairs. During his ascent, he saw a camera on the right side. Taking aim, he shot it down. Small sparks seem to celebrate the camera’s death. He hoped the person monitoring the feed missed the fact that he was here.

  Fifty feet away, an elevator awaited his arrival. It was his ride to basement level 2. Jake scanned the key card to open the elevator door. The panel let out a small ‘beep’, its open doors warmly welcomed him into the lift.

  After stepping inside, Jake pressed the Basement 2 button. Then he waited for the doors to close, the descent commenced. Taking advantage of the isolated travel time, he activated his com radio, which was on his forearm, to share the good news with Lawrence.

  “Lawrence, this is Jake speaking. Do you read me?”

  “Hear you loud and clear, Avolsky. What’s the situation?” Lawrence responded.

  “I infiltrated the Dabarow Prison without leaving witnesses. I’m currently on route to extract Darku from his cell.”

  “Excellent. Be advised that the facility is crawling with Moldans. I recommend you use the vents to avoid being spotted. Check back in with me after you make your way back to the ship. Until then, radio silence. It’s critical that we get Darku back home. Try not to do anything silly, Avolsky.”

  “Understood,” he replied. Jake disabled his com, waited inside the elevator until it came to a complete stop.

  The open door revealed a vacant, slender hallway that served as a conduit to the main hallway. After stepping out of the lift, Jake encountered a steel vent that was situated next to the security door. He elected to take the safest route, as recommended by Lawrence - the vent. Using the hot torch from his forearm, Jake chiseled out the vent’s cover. He then carefully removed it, allowing him to access the interior.

  Sensing that time was running out, Jake scrambled his way down the vent, he had to reach Darku before it was too late. Like a cheeky mouse finding shelter in a skeleton building, he inconspicuously hurried along.

  ***

  Minutes later, Jake stopped just short of the cell vent. He realized that not only did he have a real chance of extracting Darku, but he was close to obtaining the key to Darku’s secrets. The key wasn’t an ordinary key, but a knowledge-based one. The contents of the database would equip his organization with the insights necessary to construct detailed plans to overcome their enemies. If they utilized the knowledge in the right way, the consequences could be severe, causing extensive harm to both the Moldan and Stratiti underground operations. The hall was filled with clanking footsteps. In the middle of their rounds, their boss ordered them to extract information from one of their precious prisoners.

  “All right, this is it. Prison cell number 1138. Open it,” he commanded.

  “Sure thing,” the second thug replied, sliding the keycard into the slot. Gradually, the sealed doors opened.

  “Who are you?” Darku responded. He hated it when they came. Where was he going to go, anyway?

  Just like most Moldans, Darku was an overweight Obliva. His glasses concealed his blue eyes. He wore a dirty orange prison jacket that prominently displayed the label '1138'.

  “I am Fargard,” he said. “I’ve been asked to have a word with you regarding your encrypted files.”

  Damn Moldans, he thought. They found me.

  “Well... At least you’re not as stupid as you look,” Darku sarcastically replied.

  I hate dealing with obnoxious brats, Fargard thought.

  “Nonsense, Darku,” Fargard complied. “But I was wondering if you’re willing to work with me for a while.”

  “What do you want from me?” Darku asked. He disliked working with the Moldans. They manipulate him like a puppet and showed no genuine concern for his well-being. He knew they had no problem disposing of him.

  “I would like you to come with me. We need you to decrypt your files,” Fargard insisted. A sarcastic expression fell over Darku’s face. Opting to overlook it, he continued, “We need to access the database so we can eradicate the evidence about our factory’s whereabouts. If that information falls into the wrong hands, our enterprise is doomed.”

  I’m completely stunned that the Feds failed to fend off the Moldans, Darku thought.

  “I don’t negotiate with criminals like you. If you think I’m going to give you the information, you can just forget about it. I have a petty worm embedded within the database. It will be executed if anyone is foolish enough to guess the security code. You and your little flunky can go fuck off.”

  “One last chance, Darku,” said Fargard, he lifted his gun towards Darku’s head.

  Finding himself in a dangerous situation, Darku relented, nodded his demands. He added: Damnit, I wish I could buy my way out of this mess. The feds are pissed because I have ties with the Moldan. The Moldan are pissed because I locked up their valuable documents. It’s like trying to untangle a shoelace with nimble fingers. Very clumsy, indeed.

  “...Very well,” Darku said. He recognized the life-threatening moment he was in. He wondered if there would ever be a time when he could escape the confines of his chains. “Where explicitly are you taking me?”

  “Now listen. My orders are to bring you back to the terminal room,” Fargard said, withdrawing the gun. “We established a remote connection with your database. We just need your help to decrypt the files. In exchange, we’ll free you from your chains.”

  Darku didn’t utter a word. He nodded, acknowledging Fargard’s request.

  Fargard thought: That petrified fool will think twice before he defies me again.

  “Oh! And one last thing. We are professionals, Darku. If you attempt to escape, you will be shot. If you assault one of one my members, you will be shot. If you even think about establishing contact with the UGF personnel, you will be shot. Do you understand?”

  “So, I don't have much of a choice. Eh?”

  “Precisely, Darku.”

  “... At least I won’t be sitting in a cell all day long. I accept your offer,” Darku replied, relieved that his time spent in the cell had ended.

  “Wise choice, Darku. I’ll escort you to the terminal room.”

  “If you say so,” Darku said.

  With an air of calmness, Darku and the two thugs made their way out of the cell. To hinder any sudden moves, the guard kept his gun pointed at Darku’s side as they walked down the hallway.

  Shit, Jake said in his thoughts. He was on the verge of extracting Darku from the cell. It was too little, too late.

  Jake crawled out of the vent and stood on the floor of the cell. An alternative plan was now necessary, engaging the guards was not going to be a simple undertaking.