IA was carnage.

  Of the twenty gang girls, most were strewn unconscious all over the shower room, or over half-partition walls, while others lay in a heap.

  And then there was Crystal.

  On all fours, barely able to wheeze through ragged lungs, she watched as Fee approached her with pure black eyes, armed with a metal pipe, ready to deliver the killing blow.

  Suddenly, the collar around Fee's neck flashed red, and her body convulsed violently.

  She fell to the floor and curled into a foetal position, still twitching with an electrical charge.

  "I guess you forgot about that little present from your Momma," Trellik said. "One thing I will not abide is dishonour in battle. There will be no executions on my watch." Fee slowly began to regain the use of her limbs. "Alright, enough with the drowning fish act, line up with the rest of the garbage."

  Fee joined her two friends, who stood shoulder to shoulder in a line. Their shredded sleeves hung off scratched arms, exposing grubby tank tops. Everyone's faces were a tapestry of cuts and bruises, with the odd bloody nose.

  Tomoko's chest still heaved with exhaustion. She was doing all she could not to smile.

  *Holy crap, we kicked ass. Who taught you how to fight?*

  * Parents.* Fee explained. *Holidays were spent learning a bunch of martial Arts. What's your story?*

  *My dad was worried about bad boyfriends.*

  *How did you know I was in trouble?*

  *I didn't. I was supposed to clean the shower block, a punishment for sleeping in class.*

  Fee giggled and then turned to Morag.

  "Sorry, I dragged you into this."

  "Ya didn't drag me into nuthin', mate, I was gonnae keep Tommi company. Then these Clammy Waffles turned up an’ took exception to us trying tae get past."

  This generated a chorus of disapproval from the surrounding gang members. “Ehh, go look f’pennies in ye purse, ya Dry Edges!”

  By the time Trellik arrived, he was already a darker shade of red. He stalked past those left standing and paced with pure, concentrated venom. His expression suggested he was on the verge of a full-blown conniption. The veins in his neck bulged like thick cords.

  "God Almighty," He said. "I haven't seen this many messed up faces since the gallery of Picasso. In case you morons weren't up to speed, we are on the verge of species annihilation and yet, you chuckle-fucks want to speed up the process. I don't care which imbecile started this. Take it from me, I would like nothing better than for you to murder yourselves for the good of natural selection, but while you are here, you will obey our laws. You will clean up your shit. You will not tarnish the good name of this station. Do I make myself clear, Duchess?" He eyeballed Crystal, making sure she got his full attention.

  "SIR, YES SIR!" Crystal cried.

  "I know you think you are running an Empire," Trellik said, getting close to her ear. "But I am God here, and God beats Empress every time. Keep pushing me, and you’ll be taking a ride in the Airlock. Understand? "

  "SIR, YES SIR."

  He backed away to address the others.

  "The rest of you are officially on notice. You only get two strikes. One more and you're done; back to the world, a washout. No special treatment, no appeals and of course..." Trellik gave Fee a pointed look. "No special letters from Mommy." He folded his arms behind his back and straightened up. "Everyone involved in this little skirmish will be classed as a 'Saw-Pig'. You will all be sent to the Rabbit to serve out your punishment until such time you prove yourself worthy enough to return. You will also be docked one month's pay to rebuild the shower block. I am sure your colleagues will thank you for letting the entire dorm reek of armpit. Now, you will all accompany me to the Infirmary, so I can parade you around like the contemptible clowns you are."

  After a fifteen-minute march to the Med-levels, Trellik led the walking wounded to the waiting room outside LP-1 or ' Low Priority One', where a triage nurse was on hand. Fee was about to enter, when the staff sergeant mentioned something in passing.

  "Congratulations. You’ve just made enemies with the worst gang on the station."

  "Sir?"

  "The others make themselves known, but stay within the rules. Neo-CBR is pure trash and isn’t bound by such niceties. They will seek payment for this insult, so have fun with that."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Oh, and just so you know, Brass tends to let people fight their own battles. The gods are not smiling on you this time, Cadet. I suggest you watch yourself because no one else will."

  "Sir."

  "Alright, get going."

  Arriving in the ward, Fee found eighteen bays stocked with the same equipment. The nurse set down a pile of clean clothes and drew the thick blue screen.

  "I've just got changed," Fee said, slightly annoyed. Several white plasters marked the place of the scratches.

  As an antiseptic square was dabbed on her face, Fee felt every nerve light up like Christmas in Oxford Street.

  "So who hit you?" The nurse asked.

  "No one. I fell some steps."

  "Were they fist-shaped steps? Don't shine me on, girl. I've heard it all before."

  "So why ask?"

  "You have to say it out loud. Only then will it become real."

  "If this is real, I prefer it didn't."

  The nurse shook her head.

  "You're the wrong girl, at the wrong place at the wrong time"

  Fee nodded. "Story of my life."

  She sat in silence while the nurse wrapped a bandage around her waist.

  "Wait here," The woman said. "I'll book an X-ray."

  Fee sat on the edge of the bed in a new vest and took a couple of minutes of quiet contemplation.

  The voice of an old southern gent soon sent her back into reality.

  "Bet you wish you had smokes." He said, with a rough chuckle. Fee turned around and shot him a quizzical look. "Nicotine patch on your arm. Been there."

  The blonde man was somewhere in the sixties, with a Surfer-bum tan

  His body was clad in an iron-grey suia blue shirt, and no tie. He spoke with a sleepy Louisiana drawl and steadied himself with an IV stand.

  Fee turned back around. The last thing she wanted was to be hit on by some random pensioner.

  "I'd prefer if you didn't watch me." She said.

  "I wasn't ogling if that's what you were thinking."

  "So why are you checking me out?"

  "I was taking note of the pattern on your back," The old man said, gesturing to the Y-shaped burn mark under Fee’s shoulder. "Which, in hindsight, probably makes it sound worse."

  "Better quit while you're behind, old man."

  "Apologies, that sounded better in my head. Let me introduce myself, I am General Lawrence Ortaga. Retired. Friends call me 'Lance'. "

  “Lady Darkflower," Fee said. "Empress of the Black Mountain."

  The remark took her by surprise. She had no idea why that name or place in particular.

  "An honour indeed, my lady," Ortaga said, with a wry smile. He then showed her his badge and ID card. "But I really am a General. Again, retired."

  Fee took one look at the I.D. and leapt up, snapping off a tight salute.

  "Apologies, sir." She said, wincing.

  The old man raised a hand.

  "At ease, soldier." He said. "We are just having a casual chat; there is no need for formalities. Please don't injure yourself on my account. You had every right to be sceptical, it shows you have good intuition…well, to a point. Might I have your name?"

  "Fee Green, sir. Cadet."

  "Green, Green.” Ortaga said, leaning against a neighbouring bed, “Such a common name, but if you are who I think you are, it seems The Ghost finally got her wish."

  "Ghost, sir?" Fee said.

  "Your Mother, assuming I have the right person."

  "Amanda Green is a Low Commander."

  "Indeed. No doubt the perception of nepotism makes everything so much worse.”

  Fee sighed. "I’m making friends all over."

  "Are these friends aware of your abilities?"

  "It’s not something I brag about.”

  "Understandable. Your parents were always looking for ways to contain it."

  Fee took a moment to absorb this information.

  "What does this have to do with a Ghost?"

  Ortaga looked down ruefully.

  "I'm afraid that's a story for another day. I know that sounds hackneyed, but it literally is classified in this case. Some secrets are too horrible to be uncovered; it's better to preserve her memory as is. I have to say, it's uncanny how much you look like her, the same icy determination." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "She can be a bit scary at times, holy crap."

  "I have seen all sides of it."

  "You'll have to indulge my curiosity further, Cadet. How long have you had that scar on your back?"

  "I was always told it was a birthmark." Fee said. It was a distinctively Y-shaped scar, with three dots between the vertices. "I haven't thought much about it, sir."

  "Most birthmarks are smooth, flat blotches like wine stains, but yours looks like a branding."

  "I have had it since I was a baby; I hate the idea that someone would do that."

  "Scary to think," Ortaga said. I only noticed because I've a side interest in sigils and symbols. Some lean towards the occult, earning me some choice names like 'Grey magic', 'The Warlock', or 'War Wizard'—you get the point. Suffice it to say, my other interest in chemistry does not help alleviate the situation.

  "Chemistry and witchcraft? It really paints a picture."

  "Just don't ask for healing potions."

  "I'll just loot those from the dead." Fee joked.

  "If you do have any queries or qualms, feel free to drop by. My humble abode is situated in the Engine room."

  "You live here permanently?"

  "Our home was caught in a flood," Ortaga said, with a tinge of melancholy. "We lost everything. It happened so quickly that no one had time to escape. We returned from vacation and had to stay in a hotel for six months." He shrugged. "And that's all she wrote."

  "How did you end up living here?"

  "There we were, without pen to pockets, mourning our friends and wondering how we would get by. That's when I was informed that I had earned enough goodwill to warrant a free bolt-hole. Here, in the space of all places. "

  "Don't you have enough money for a new house? You can get one with a garden."

  "Both of us hate gardening." The General said. He laughed so much he had balled up his fist to stem a sudden cough. "I digresss, it puts things in perspective. We like it here, so does our dog, Zeus."

  "German Shepherd?"

  "How did you know?"

  Fee smiled. "They're always called Zeus."

  "True, true." The General said. "If needs must, we can always walk in the nearby woods. I take it you are acquainted?"

  "Canto Eight? Yeah, I nearly died a few times."

  "No-one appreciates life until they are on the verge of losing it"

  Fee looked away. "Some didn't have enough time to appreciate it."

  "I know your story. My condolences."

  "Thank you."

  There was strained, awkward silence until Ortaga decided it was time to leave.

  "Well Cadet Green, I shan't keep you any longer." He said. He slowly got up and held out a hand. Fee shook it. "Thank you for humouring an old fool and good luck with the rest of your training. From what I hear, we need all the able bodies we can get."

  With a small wink, he took himself off down the corridor, leaving Fee wondering what had just taken place.

  ****