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Raj Duggan slowly crushed the ration container in his new cybernetic fist, enjoying the tortured sound it made as the metal gradually succumbed to his amazing strength.
    “You ever going to get tired of that?” his equally new partner, Vick, asked from the other side of the room.
    Raj glanced over at him. Vick was standing next to the massive vault they were guarding and looked suitably impressive in his heavy Coalition armour. He also wore a suitably irritated expression that Raj could see clearly through the faceplate of his helmet.
    “Not until my next upgrade,” he said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
    “You’ll be dead before you pay down the Coalition debt on that lot, rookie,” Vick scoffed.
    Raj frowned for a moment. Entering Jupiter’s atmosphere always made him a little nervous – which was why he’d already eaten more than half his rations – but it would be extremely bad luck to get killed on his first mission.
    Thankfully, the turbulence wasn’t too bad at the moment, but there was a definite roar in the background that reminded him of the dangers they were flying through. Jupiter’s dynamic, marble-like atmosphere might be one of the most beautiful sights in the solar system from orbit, but on the inside it was a violent nightmare that had claimed far too many lives.
    Still, the Coalition drop ship they were hitching a ride in was tougher than most. The Coalition had spared no expense on this transport run. Along with Raj and Vick, there were ten other high-level security officers on board, which was far more than usual.
    Raj was well aware he wasn’t being paid as much as the others, but it was only because he’d just reached this level of the game. He’d also been assigned to guard the ship’s fortified inner vault and so he was unlikely to see any real action.
    Holding his new cybernetic arms out in front of him, Raj inspected them proudly and let his doubts fade into the background.
    “This ‘lot’ has already started to pay off,” he said with conviction. “I wouldn’t have landed a place on this mission without these babies.”
    “Whatever this mission is,” Vick said sourly.
    Raj looked at him again. He didn’t know much about the mission either. He knew the heavily armed drop ship was on its way to rendezvous with an energy sump – the main source of power production in Coalition space – but he had no idea what they were transporting.

With a shrug, he turned back to the crushed ration container in his fist and then flicked it toward a small garbage bin in the corner. The mangled ball of metal arced across the room and looked like it was on target right up until the point it hit the rim and bounced away.
    Raj winced in embarrassment. His new arms might be strong, but he hadn’t quite built up the neuronal connections required to unlock their dexterity.
    Leaving the garbage where it lay, Raj picked up his helmet and pitgun, and returned to his post by the massive vault door.
    “Who cares what the mission is,” he said, wedging the helmet under one arm and leaning against the wall. “It pays three times my usual rate. If I keep landing missions like these, I’ll be able to afford a plantim upgrade in no time.”
    “Keep dreamin’, pal,” Vick said with a grimace. “You know why the Coalition pays triple credit on these runs, don’t you?”
    “Sure I do,” Raj replied. “They value their tech more than anything else.”
    “Any five year old knows that,” Vick said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, why do you think they feel so threatened they’re willing to pay a dozen security officers triple credits to transport one piece of tech down to an energy sump?”
    “Well…” Raj began slowly. He had some idea because he’d heard the other officers talking earlier, but he wasn’t sure he should admit to it. “We’re not meant to discuss it, right? But… we’re carrying Helmsken tech, yeah?”
    Raj knew as much about Helmsken as anyone else, which wasn’t