The pungent smell of sulfur and circuitry hung thick in the air of manso-planet Orvak. These were the only perfumes it could afford after being pulverized by the previous war against manso-planet Paladix. Beneath its toxic surface, the dungeon-layers pulsed with recycled life. Holograms blinked out of sync on oxidized walls, broken neon signage buzzed in forgotten dialects and Gangs scuttled like plagued rats through its tunnels, carving an empire from within the Council’s blind spots.

  Keve, #10004, was one such rat.

  His average looking silhouette slipped between the sweating crowds like vapor, his boots made no sound against the rusted and crackling steel. His coat, sewn from stolen techno mesh-thread, reflected no light, no heat, no signature. Perfect for a thief, Perfect for tonight.

  After a long day of dishonest work, he was ready for a well deserved vacation.

  He tapped his comm. Tap.Tap.

  Static Buzzed through.

  “Keve, You’re late again. You little Runt!”, Darga growled from the other side, his artificial voice sounded like a grinder chewing metal.

  “I’m five ticks behind. Are you keeping time now?” Keve’s mission in life since he was born from a dying womb was only survival.

  If he needed to bend over backwards for a half dead hillbilly, he would. If he had to steal from the council to survive, he would.

  “I count every tick that could get us executed. Bloc 4’s scanners are jumpy.”

  Keve ginned from behind the comm, “Let ‘em twitch.”

  He ducked into a dark shaft and launched himself into blackness. His banded fingers gripped a rusted cable, sliding down four floors with ease, he landed in a crouch - cloaked by smoke emerging from behind.

  Darga stood unimpressed from his dramatic entry, his cybernetic eye pulsed red as he resembled a cyborg covered in human skin. He smelled of gunpowder and the wrinkles on his skin read of all the battles he had fought for the liberation of Orvak.

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  After years of fighting a doomed rebellion, even the hottest of the blood runs cold.

  “You got it?” Keve asked

  Darga held up the prize – a palm sized crystal glowing violet.

  “Diamro”, he said. “The crew ripped it straight from the Terran crypts. It reacts to mind-input. Lots of holistic suckers are rabid for it on the Black market.”

  Keve gave a low whistle. “That’ll buy us a seat off this trash rock.”

  Darga didn’t smile. “Hmm..If we don’t get vaped first.”

  “Well, Then let’s scram before they come then.”

  Darga tossed Keve the Daimro as they both moved fast, through the abandoned mines reeking of metal rot, past sewage rivers that glowed neon green from chemical runoff, hot droughty earth that almost melted their Techno-boots. At last, they reach Unit G5 – the unknown hideout of their gang, wedged between two collapsed maglev stations.

  The group inside was filled with chaos, scrappers, hackers, runners, fugitives and Orphans of war and policy. It wasn’t some found family that Keve had found a solace in. Everyone contributed and everyone stuck together for survival.

  Each one a Number.

  None of them used their names anymore. They were too dangerous. Too human.

  “Sup! Feeble people! Miss me?” Keve threw himself into a grav-chair, letting the magnetic sling take his weight.

  Groans and disapprovals followed from the crew. Although adept, his personality made dislikeable for the members in his crew.

  He was too haughty, too egoistic and too full of himself.

  Darga and the hackers got to work at the decrypt table, plugging the crystal into an interface made of looted scrap.

  “I still can’t believe I am seeing this in real life.”, whispered Telo, one of the youngest fixing her cracked headband, The one she is never seen without. According to Keve, there was a melodramatic sob story behind it for sure.

  Her fingers twitched as they moved rhythmically over the holo keyboard. Their team would need to decrypt the crystal layer by layer, before it could be sold. Afterall, this version was too unstable.

  Darga’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. “Focus and Don’t celebrate too soon.”

  Too late, Keve was already dreaming. Of the riches, of the freedom, of the clean air, the real stars and a sky that didn’t choke you slowly to death.

  The decrypt was barely done, when the deal from the black market came through – an anonymous black market buyer from Bloc V4.

  The crew planned for 5 days straight. Every exit and entry were rehearsed, every step was practiced over and over again until the blueprint of the place was stamped in the memories of the crew members.

  Draga stood on a raised mount in front of the entire crew. He stood waiting for everyone to become silent before finally beginning. “I know everyone is very excited. This deal can change the life for many of you, we will no longer have to scramble around in the gutters of different Bloc’s for survival, Syra you can finally buy your brother back from the slave makers, Telo you will no longer have to sell yourself for scraps of food –”

  A loud sob followed, it was Telo. Her hand shook against her mouth as she tried to muffle her heaving sob and tears flowing from her eyes.

  This was a first. Each and every one had a worse story than the other, yet they never shared their sorrows publicly.

  Draga continued “Mustw will finally be able to settle in a richer Bloc with his younger brother and many more of you will finally be able to fulfill your pending dreams.”

  He paused, scanning everyone.

  “Just one!” He raised his finger up in the sky.

  “Just one more and we will be free!”