Despite the dangers lurking on the planet’s surface, Skinner couldn’t help but be amazed at how different Grimmak was from planets like Schunston. The moment their landing craft penetrated the atmosphere, he found himself glued to the window like a child, marveling at the scenery below. Stekiens stood behind him, both sets of arms folded over her chest as she surveyed the horizons.

Schunston had been dead; stripped bare by those bizarre white drones and those unnatural mockeries of life. While the dangers here could be very similar, they were still far from that point. Tall mountains pierced the clouds wherever Skinner looked, their tips stabbing high into the upper atmosphere. At first, he assumed the oceans on this world were a deep, dark green, their waves creeping up to the base of the mountains. As their ship descended, though, he realized he was looking at huge, dark forests – their caps so densely packed that they blocked any view of the ground below.

“We are approaching the landing zone,” Stekiens said, trying to keep her voice from startling Skinner as he stared out the window. “Nehuasta is going to meet us on the pad.”

Skinner reluctantly pulled himself away from the glass, shaking his head to clear it before putting on his helmet. It was new – comfortable and sturdy, unlike his old one. He checked the systems out of habit, bringing Lumos online. “Can you hear me?” he asked her.

“Affirmative, Captain. This new system is an immense improvement.”

“Considering it practically bought us, it better be,” he said, watching Stekiens put on her own helmet. Unlike his, which was fairly round and uniform, hers looked almost bee-like. It had a sloping portion at the base for the tentacles around her mouth and the visor was shaped like a cross. Like the rest of her armor, it was firm and solid as if made from tank plates. “You’re going to keep me alive out here, right?”

“Ideally, that is what I am for,” Lumos responded. “I have performed some preliminary, short-range scans. The forests below extend a considerable distance downwards; well outside the reach of my scanners. I can determine that even though the biosphere here has suffered a decline, these deep woods are still teeming with native life.”

“Anything dangerous?”

“To be determined, Captain,” she said. “The colony site, however, is utterly devoid of biosignatures or motion. We must be closer for me to be absolutely certain.”

Skinner snorted as the landing craft slowed and began to descend. “You’re gonna get your wish,” he said. “Keep the scans going. Regular updates – anything abnormal takes priority.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“You put a lot of trust in a CI,” Stekiens said as she picked up a pair of rifles, strapping them to her back.

“She has yet to fail me,” Skinner said, looking the Iharsh-Daraz’s direction. “Unlike a lot of other people.”

“CI’s are prone to failures, just like organic beings,” she said. “It’s inevitable, if not more common. While organic beings learn, CI’s are restricted by their programming.”

Skinner laughed sharply. “Organic beings also have their own agendas,” he said. “And that’s a problem in my line of work. That’s why I like her – she’s simple, trustworthy and reliable. She doesn’t plot against me, or try to take a cut of the profits. She doesn’t need food or water, and she knows a heck of a lot more than I do. What’s not to love?”

Stekiens shrugged her shoulders in an extremely odd way, almost as if she were saddened. “Are you not lonely, piloting your ship this way?”

Skinner thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m too busy to be lonely,” he said. “Work isn’t always good. Gotta keep at it.”

The landing craft touched down on the pad outside the colony. Unlike the ones he’d seen on Schunston or Myhrede, this one was built on the steep side of a mountain. The pad jutted out, supported by enormous stabilizing beams, above the deep forests below. The blocky, rectangular buildings inhabited by the colonists were built along catwalks and stairwells, sprawling across the rocky face like a fungus. Skinner watched through the window as the familiar shape of Nehuasta tapped her foot in irritation at the edge of the circular landing zone, waiting for them to disembark.

“Best not to keep her waiting,” Stekiens said, pushing past Skinner on her way to the door.

Skinner followed the Iharsh-Daraz out onto the landing pad, looking around at the scenic vistas. The forest canopy stretched away like an endless ocean of dark green, punctuated with periodic mountains and rocky outcroppings. This close to a ‘shoreline’ there were more peaks and clusters, but the further out he looked the more it just turned into an infinite expanse of green.

Nehuasta looked him up and down as he approached. “So, you decided to join us after all, hm?” she asked, a faint trace of curiosity tainting her voice. “I must say, I am quite surprised.”

“Everyone has their price,” Skinner answered, looking around the landing pad. “What am I here for? Aksak said you needed help picking through this colony, right?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Nehuasta said. “This is a textbook Ghost Town Scenario – it’s as if the entire population of Vriik up and left. No signs of a struggle, no signs of hostile fire, nothing. I want you to look for clues. Stekiens will accompany you when possible to keep you from harm. Do not endanger her needlessly.”

“Do I want to know what an Iharsh-Daraz considers dangerous?” Skinner asked, trepidation filling his voice. “What, exactly, are you expecting to find here?”

Nehuasta shrugged, unslinging a rifle from her back and turning towards the colony. “Answers, mostly, but judging from that distress call we could be in for something else. I’m taking point – you follow behind me. We’re going to investigate the colony Intel Center to see if the surveillance cameras picked anything up.”

Skinner fell into step behind the Senate Hunter, wishing he’d been given a gun. They walked towards the center of the silent colony, Stekiens bringing up the rear and keeping a close eye on their surroundings. Nehuasta moved quickly and carefully up the deserted ramps and stairwells, her body tight and coiled. Even Skinner could tell she was bracing for an attack. She kept her rifle trained wherever she looked, moving her whole upper body as she checked around columns and down alleys. Nothing popped out to attack them – indeed, it was eerie how quiet everything was. Considering the distress signal, Skinner had expected to drop into a nest of those white creatures.

“Captain, I am detecting a biosignature two floors down,” Lumos informed him. “Access provided by the door to your left.”

“My CI is picking something up on scans,” Skinner said. “Door to our left leads down to it. Biosignature.”

Nehuasta stopped examining the information center door and turned to face him. “You are sure?”

“She hasn’t been wrong yet,” he said.

Nehuasta let out an exaggerated sigh before approaching the door Skinner had indicated. “Very well,” she said, examining it for a moment before opening it. She kept her rifle trained on the opening, only cracking the door bit by bit, until she was certain there was nothing there. She motioned Skinner forward, looking down the darkened opening. “Maintenance shaft,” she said. “Your CI still picking up a signature?”

“I am, Captain.”

“Yeah, she is,” Skinner said. “You taking point again?”

Nehuasta’s mirrored visor turned towards him for a moment before she stepped into the shaft. It was a cramped, six-sided tube carved into the side of the mountain that descended sharply into the darkness below. Metal catwalks spiraled down into the gloom, and the single red light at the top did nothing to alleviate the abyss into which they vanished.

Skinner balked slightly, looking down into the void below him, but Nehuasta forged ahead and descended the steps quickly, flicking on the light at the end of her rifle as she went. “Stekiens, guard the door,” she commanded. “Nothing gets in or out without my authorization.”

“Understood!” The Iharsh-Daraz saluted with one of her arms before turning and placing her back against the doorframe. She towered over it, her head and both sets of shoulders disappearing from sight. Skinner was glad the behemoth was on their side. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the doorway and follow Nehuasta down into the darkness below, watching the Hunter aim her rifle around each bend as she descended.

The bottom of the shaft emptied out into a concrete tunnel that connected to the colony’s sewer systems. Skinner almost rolled his eyes at how unfair this was – two sewers on the last three planets? Some deity or another had it out for him. Nehuasta approached the opening of the spillway, checking the larger tunnel for enemies before turning back to him. “Which way?” she asked, irritation still in her voice. “I have no wish to be down in this filth.”

“That makes two of us,” Skinner said. Lumos, as if hearing their discussion, lit up a set of leading lights for him. “This way,” he said, pointing up the spillway. “Towards the water source.”

Nehuasta led the way, keeping her rifle trained ahead of her. The concrete tunnel had a deep groove carved out for water flow, but most of it was dry. Only an inch or so of liquid remained in the trough. Bridges periodically crisscrossed the gap, giving access to both sides, but Skinner kept following the leading lights. They persisted northward, heading for the far end of the colony.

“You know this is a trap, right?” Nehuasta said after a few more minutes.

“What?” Skinner asked, pausing.

“Whatever attacked this colony left someone alive at this end, unless your CI has merely been fooled. That said, if we go too much farther, we are going to box ourselves in at the mouth of the tunnel. Cornered, we would be easy prey for anyone who meant us harm.”

“I sure hope you’re wrong,” Skinner said as they crossed one of the grated bridges.

“I rarely am,” Nehuasta said bitterly as they approached a large, cylindrical chamber. Skinner hesitated before entering, wondering if there was validity to her statement before taking a deep breath and venturing in.

This was the aforementioned mouth of the tunnel – the main source of water drainage. It would have flowed heaviest through here before meeting up with the smaller rivulets that merged with the main spillway. Skinner could see the multiple pipe feeds along the top of the far wall; all of them dry and silent but one.

“Where is this biosignature?” Nehuasta asked, looking around.

Skinner advanced on the back wall, moving his gloved hands over it. “Huh… according to my CI, we have to go further this way,” he muttered. “I wonder if there’s a door.”

Nehuasta lowered her rifle, examining the wall. “A door? Here?”

“She’s got leading lights lit up in my visor,” Skinner said as he turned to look at her. “They continue straight through the wall right here…” he tapped a section of the concrete. “…the biosignature isn’t far beyond that. Any ideas?”

The Senate Hunter stowed her rifle on her back, examining the wall for a moment. She knocked it with her knuckles a few times before drawing a D-shaped object from her hip. “You are correct. The wall is hollow,” she said as she gave the object a flick. A long, thin rod telescoped out from one end. “Stand back.”

A sharp, angular blade of red light coalesced around the thin rod. Skinner jumped back several steps as Nehuasta swung the blade in a wide slash across the wall. The energy around the sword bit deep into the concrete, separating it as though it were little more than Styrofoam. She repeated this twice more, carving fragments of stone out of the section Skinner had indicated. As the stone fell away, a passage was revealed – dark and ominous as the maintenance shaft.

“Is that an Ion Saber?” Skinner asked as Nehuasta powered it down. “I’ve never seen a red one – all the ones I’ve seen are orange.”

“This one is special,” she said, prying several chunks of concrete away from the entrance. Part of a damaged mechanism fell out and she kicked it away derisively. “You go first – you are far smaller than I am. I will cover you.” She holstered the Ion Saber and drew her rifle again.

Skinner crawled through the hole into the dark passageway, trusting Lumos and her leading lights. This new pathway didn’t go very far – perhaps another ten feet – before it branched off to the left and right. Doorways lined the far wall, and Skinner approached the second one to the right; where Lumos said the biosignature was. Nehuasta stayed close behind him. “Anything?”

Skinner peered through a narrow slit on the door before sighing. “Yeah… I’ve seen this before.” He turned away. “It’s a slave pen.”

Nehuasta’s stance shifted abruptly. “A what?!”

“A slave pen,” Skinner said before pointing to the door. “And I’ll bet that girl chained up in there can tell us what’s going on.”