My name is Katrina Vance. When I was twelve, my mother disappeared from her government job, leaving me an orphan in the government's hands...well, the LSF managed my case, which is all manner of odd. So, I was passed through eight families with strong ties to the navy in the six years before I turned eighteen. No one ever knew where my mother was.
Last month, I turned eighteen, and was given access to a trust fund no one ever told me about. Nearly six million credits...I moved out, of course. Way out. Baden Baden. Which, is really nice, well, was really nice, until I started getting letters from some disaffected scientist...talking about my dead mother.
That got mailed to me. It had some sort of text attached to it, but something ate it...apparently got to the picture too....no idea what it has to do with anything...but it makes me nervous.
"I'm leaving." and, this time, I really was....the porter didn't believe me.
"Checking out for the day miss?"
"No, leaving. Not coming back....not here."
"I'll get you a car." Bastard....Just take me seriously...what rights do I have?....oh, dear God, what rights do I have in Rheinland? What can they do to me?
"I have train tickets...I'll take a cab."
"Of course Miss, I'll call one...which station are you headed to?" no no no....don't let him do it....they're watching me....
"I'll get my own, thank you."
and I ran, sprinted out of that hotel, into the packed plaza, jumped onto a trolley...rode it for five minutes before jumping off the opposite side...yeah, sure....they're professionals, this wont work at all.....but, gotta do something...
Nothing is free on a Freeport. Everything has a price.
I should know. Lived on four different ones in as many months. Freeports one, five, nine, and now eleven. Out on the edge of space, where nomads attack nearly daily, and corsairs infest the bars.
I carry an oxymask in case of a breach, and a flechette gun in case of trouble. Niether are more common than the other. This is home, more home than the cushy families the LSF put me with...feel alive here. You have to be alive out here, on the edge of space, where a momentary lapse can get you killed...where aliens, real aliens are a daily occurrence...where even as the station takes hits, and life is uncertain, you feel that hum, the roar of life on the edge...the edge of life, and, the edge of human space.