"Why do we allow the old families so much control? They simply had the funds to charter the first ships from the origin system when we reached the stars."

  -Councillor Veyra Thast, Faris II planetary assembly

  Mara was cold.

  Water dripped onto her head, and a soft green glow reflected within the drops as they fell. The letters on the neon sign that actually worked advertised things that were… inappropriate, though still not the worst place she’d woken up.

  She tried to sit up, but everything hurt, like she'd been sleeping on rocks all night.

  Where was she? An alley? Why was she here? She’d been—where? The warehouse. Pain. Tobias. Screams. A gun pointed at her. The memories flooded back.

  Tobias tried to kill her!

  She shot up and pressed her hands to her stomach. No wound? Hadn’t he stabbed her, though? The memories were there, but were hard to grasp, like water slipping through her fingers.

  Was she alone? Her head flicked in both directions, it looked like it. Why in the hell would Tobias, of all people, be afraid of her? Something had to have been behind her, as it wasn’t like she could be a threat to anyone; her arms may as well be toothpicks.

  Her clothing had more rips than usual, and there was blood, but was it hers or someone else's? Her arms shook as she checked herself over. Other than a stinging cheek, she seemed fine… well, almost.

  Something buzzed in her mind. Like a static feeling on her skin, as if little needles were pricking at it. She looked at her hand. Nothing out of the ordinary, but something was there. Almost like an aura, energy radiated from her with rhythmic pulses, or at least felt like it.

  Her vision, hearing, and smell were on overdrive. That rat darting between dumpsters? She saw it. She heard it, and she could smell it.

  Mara clutched her head. It was all too much. What was happening to her? She tried to walk, but stumbled and had to lean against the wall.

  Had she been drugged? No, she’d been drugged before, and this was nothing like that time, curled up on the floor and afraid. Now? Her body felt good—despite the pain—fantastic, even. Could she move a 3-ton cargo container herself? Probably not, but she sure felt like it.

  This wasn’t right.

  Her mind swirled with chaos. She wanted to cry, to laugh, to scream, to smile, and to punch something, all at once.

  She took slow breaths. Focus, she needed to focus.

  Sirens rang in the distance. They sounded like they were near the warehouse, assuming she was correct in knowing which alley this was. The only way she'd get answers would be to check it out.

  She groaned as she headed towards the sounds. She had to be stupid to think this would be a good idea.

  On the main street that led to the warehouse, flashing lights illuminated a crowd of people lined up at the barriers P-Sec had already set up. Shouts and questions came from every direction, and officers were everywhere. Some were standing guard outside the warehouse doors, while others tried to hold the crowd back.

  As she moved into the crowd, the reality she'd hoped to ignore became impossible. She could sense everyone around her. Of course she could see them, but something let her know where people were that she wasn't even looking at.

  They all had small energy… signatures? Similar, but much less, to that blue flicker that had been around Tobias. But an even larger signature came from the warehouse.

  “Did you hear what happened?” A woman's voice came from her right.

  “Some sort of gang violence? Apparently it’s gruesome in there, bodies everywhere, I heard,” a man said.

  Her world froze. She couldn’t breathe. Was Tobias dead? Was she actually free? How was she alive? Why was she alive? People drifted around her, but she couldn’t move.

  More P-Sec cruisers showed up, and some unarmoured officers got out. Snap out of it! She couldn’t stay here.

  A man exited the warehouse, older, with defined wrinkles on his tanned skin and a short grey beard framing his jaw, matching his cropped hair. He didn't look like P-Sec, since they didn't wear long, heavy overcoats over their armour.

  Danger.

  A large revolver sat on his hip, and could probably put a round through a concrete wall, but that wasn't what made her palms sweat. The powerful energy she sensed came from him, a rolling tidal wave of whatever it was.

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  He looked straight at her, head cocked.

  She spun and ran. His gruff voice called out behind her, but she wouldn't stop; she was getting off this planet.

  Mara could finally catch her breath as the man had finally stopped following her. His energy signature… pulse? Whatever it was, kept getting further away as she ran and eventually disappeared. Who was he? And why had he singled her out?

  Did she now have the same visible energy as well?

  It had been odd, though. He tried approaching from different directions each time. She'd avoid him, he'd back off, and then she'd sense him in a new location.

  There had also been a few odd people on some streets that she'd never seen before. Pitch-black armour, red scanners attached to their faceless helmets, and rifles that should have no place in a colony.

  Were they also here because of the warehouse incident? Had Tobias been a secret bastard child of an old family heir or something, and were now hunting her for assumed murder?

  She had arrived at her home in the sanitation district. If people were following her, she'd need to leave soon and hope a ship would leave shortly.

  Her tent was hidden in an alcove that sat high along the sanitation plant’s outer wall. Covered by a tangle of old conduit pipes and a vent that rattled every few minutes. It had been a good place to hide for years. The smell alone would deter anybody—rot and chemical cleanser.

  She entered her tent, which was barely big enough to sit up in, and condensation clung to the fabric like cold sweat. She rummaged through her few belongings.

  Not much worth taking; some model cargo ships, like the Mule-class freighter, a few business posters from Lunis showing VR cafes and gardens she’d never see, and her prize possession, a model of the Hammerhead dreadnought, the largest UEC vessel ever created, lost in a spatial rift years ago.

  It’d be nice to display them in an actual room.

  Mara packed them with care, the models, posters, her small knife, the datapad she kept telling people she was fixing, but never actually worked on. She took the knife back out and slipped it into her pocket instead. Her hand hesitated on the skimmer. There were too many bad memories and so she tossed it into the corner.

  She threw her worn bag over her shoulder and covered herself with her cloak, which had seen better days, before sliding down one of the pipes to the ground. Her shoes sank into the mud, squelching as she moved.

  She walked alongside the sanitation plant’s runoff channel, where grey water churned slowly toward the underground processing tanks. The recent storms had been causing minor flooding within the colony as of late.

  A man drew her attention, with black hair and the usual drab clothing colonists wore, nothing out of the ordinary. He was standing on the other side of the channel.

  Staring right at her.

  Her heartbeat rose. Not a local, though, since he was too clean, as if he’d walked into a store and bought whatever everyone else wore. No mud stains, rips, or dirt in his hair.

  An outsider.

  The man spoke something into his wrist while looking at her. Then backed away and disappeared around a building.

  Mara pulled her cloak further down her face, picking up her speed towards the shipyard.

  More oddly clean people popped up as she walked through the colony. Was she being paranoid? Or were they actually following her?

  She kicked a rock across the street. It puttered across the asphalt and came to a rest in front of a group of men, whose clothing was better than hers, but far from that of upstanding colonists. One was tall, one short, and the leader was just ugly.

  "Well, well. Look what we got here, boys. A lost rat making a mess of our turf," the man in front said.

  She'd seen them before, some smaller rival gang. "Last I checked, this wasn't your turf."

  "Word on the street is ol' Tobias got himself axed and the entire gang is gone, or will be when we're done."

  Shit, news traveled fast.

  She eyed the street. They were otherwise alone, and while there was an alley on her right, how much longer could she run? They didn't appear to have guns, but it wasn't like they'd need them to kill her.

  Her hand rested on the small knife in her pocket. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm done with all this crap. You'll never see me again."

  "500 credits and we'll let you leave," the man in front said.

  "You know I have nothing, Tobias didn't work that way."

  "Then run, little rat."

  Dammit, the men crept across the street, grins on their faces as they drew their weapons. She ran into the alley as footsteps hammered behind her. The snake-like passage had no alternative paths, and her only option was to outrun them.

  On the third turn, a hand grabbed her shoulder. She slashed her arm out and spun, her knife finding soft, squishy flesh.

  "Ahhh. You bitch!" the man said.

  She didn't have time to see the results, as the other two men crashed around the corner. Mara twisted free and continued running. Her bag ripped from her shoulder as she escaped.

  Her eyes stung. She had to keep running, but losing the only things that were hers? Maybe she could loop back after.

  The next turn stopped her cold, though. A dead end.

  The three men stalked around the wall. She'd gotten the short one in the chest, and he wasn't looking good.

  "You're a fighter, I'll give you that," the leader said.

  He struck at her with his baton. She deflected the strike with her knife, but the force knocked it from her hand, and it clattered across the ground, ending up almost six feet away.

  The man recovered and moved in for another hit.

  Adrenaline flooded her veins, and she punched him with all the force she could muster. Her mind crackled with energy, reality distorting around her fist.

  The impact sent the man flying. A loud snap rang out as his head hit the wall behind him.

  The other two stood still, eyes wide. She took two steps forward, and with another punch sent the tall man into the same wall. The sickening crunch from the impact threatened to make her retch.

  Mara's head ached, and a sharp pain ripped from her forehead. The last man—the one she stabbed earlier—ran away. His movements were slow, but she couldn't chase him.

  She wiped her eyes, and the backs of her fists came back bloody. Her stomach turned at the sight, and she fell to her knees.

  She stared at her hands. Shaky fingers stained red. Her eyes wandered to the gang members. Their bodies contorted like marionettes. Monster. She was a monster, and she deserved this.

  A gunshot rang out down the alley, and the sound was distorted, like she were underwater.

  She checked her nose and found it bleeding as well, and her ears were likely no different. Slow steps approached from the corner. There wasn't anything she could do now.

  The man in the overcoat came into view. She'd forgotten to track him, and he'd found her in the end.

  His eyes drifted from the bodies against the wall and then to her. A look of concern on his face? Everything was too blurry, but no. It couldn't be. Why would anyone be concerned for her?

  She couldn't help smiling as her world faded to black. She let the darkness take her.