The corridors are long and empty. I do my best to memorize the lay-out, but the ship is too damn big for that. Is this synth taking the long route on purpose? I wouldn’t put it past him.

They’ve finally done it, the crazy bastards. They created a synth completely devoid of humanity, a pure-bred killing machine. For eons the Zorans were the most dangerous beings in the known universe, but it seems our time might be up.

If I don’t come up with a plan quick, my time might be up. I’ve travelled all this way to save Rinor, but all that I’ve accomplished is getting myself into even more trouble.

And Caia as well.

If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll sooner break down this entire ship with my bare hands than see her get hurt.

We take another turn, another set of stairs, another left, a right, a left, another stairs, and then I see it.

Rows upon rows of cells filled with all types of aliens. Humans, Zorans, Rathnid, Dithra, all packed together in crates like pigs on their way to the slaughterhouse.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” I growl, accosting the synth.

He pokes me in the back. “Keep walking, meatbag.”

So this has been the purpose of their outposts... abducting countless aliens. Rinor might be somewhere on this ship — or he could have been taken away days ago. I have no way of knowing.

My eyes scan the crowds, desperately looking for his fire-red frame, but I don’t see him.

The synth guides me through the hall and into a small, dimly lit room all the way in the back. I know exactly what this is: an interrogation room.

He forces me down in a metal seat and chains my wrists and ankles to it.

“Mister Wellington will be with you shortly,” the synth says with a curt nod.

And then, I am all alone again with my thoughts, and my worries. As much as I want to let my spirit animal loose to wreak havoc, I must resist the urge.

If I hadn’t met Caia, I would have been fine with dying as martyr, taking as much of these bastards down with me as possible.

Now... everything has changed.

My life is not the only thing that matters anymore.

She matters to me.

More than anything.

She’s in her cell down below, alone... I have to find a way to return to her. To survive my next altercation. For her.

The door opens and a human male steps in. Around six foot tall, with black hair, slicked back. His expensive, dark suit fits his slender frame perfectly.

“Zoran,” he says, the disdain in his voice as clear as day. “What brings you to my vessel?”

“This heap of shit is yours?” I say.

He winces.

“Whose ship do I have the pleasure of insulting?”

“Did my servant not properly introduce me?” He casts an agitated glance at the door, slicking his hair back. “My name is Casper Wellington. Yes, THE Casper Wellington.”

I cock my head. “Am I supposed to know you?”

“Yes,” he bristles, “Yes you are, assuming you’re a man of culture! However, I can see that you are not.”

Getting under his skin is easier than I thought.

“Now, you have me at a disadvantage. Tell me your name, Zoran, and your purpose.”

“I am Leto,” I growl. “And my purpose is dismantling this piece of shit organization you’ve got going going on here.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I’m doubtful you’ll succeed, Zoran.”

“Don’t count me out yet.”

“What drew your attention to the Zukari Flu posts?”

“You think I’d tell you? You want me to give you tips on how to tighten up security for your diabolical scheme? If so, you’re crazier than I thought.”

His eyes narrow. I can see he’s not used to be being told no. I have absolutely zero intention of humoring this prick, but I need to get as much information as I can out of him.

“Why not?” he hisses. “You’ve already lost. You have one shot at making your miserable life useful. I got you chained up like a dog, you know. If I wanted to, I could blow your brains out right now.”

“Then do it,” I growl, my inner lion taking charge for a split second. “Do it!”

“No. That would be a waste of resources. You’re going to help me, Zoran, whether you like it or not.”

“If I’ve already lost, then there’s no harm in telling me what you’re up to,” I goad him. “Humor me, and I might tell you how I found out about your little scheme.”

“Ah, tit for tat, then? Well, yes, you are quite right. There is absolutely nothing you can do at this point to stop me, so I might as well humor you, if only to see the delicious shock spread on your boorish face. This,” he says, spreading his arms wide, “Is the future, my dear captive. This ship will bring Wellington Consortium wealth beyond anything my father or my grandfather could ever dream of.”

“How is abducting helpless aliens going to make you rich? You’re going to pawn them off like slaves? Hold them ransom? What’s your game here?”

He shakes his head, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes making my skin crawl.

“Nothing of that sort, no. Your mind is still fixed on the old-world, and on the old-ways, but we live in a new era, friend. The Rift has changed everything, don’t you see?”

My ears perk up. The Rift? Is that what this is all about?

“Yes, yes, the Rift. That vortex is going to make me the most powerful man in the universe.”

“How?” I growl. “It’s just a damn anomaly, flashing in and out of existence without rhyme or reason. It’s a fluke.”

“No, my dear, confused Zoran. It’s a goldmine. Our readings indicate that there’s a wealth of treasure just lurking beneath that veil, an untapped dimension, waiting to be exploited. And there is order to the chaos, if you look closely. The Rift is controlled by sentient life. Yes, some people have been ‘gifted’, or mutated, by the vortex. Gather enough of their essence, and the Rift can be stabilized... and exploited.”

“Gather their essence?” I growl. “What’s that supposed to mean? How are you ever going to force anyone to help you?!”

“I have my ways,” he smirks, exposing his sharp fangs. “If I really wanted to. But no, I’m focusing my efforts on a much more elegant solution: Distilling their essence down to it’s purest form.”

He pulls out a small veil filled with a translucent substance from his pocket and places it triumphantly on the table.

“Here is my proof of concept. Pure essence.”

I feel my face turn white. “Is that...”

“You are looking at a dozen people, distilled to their perfect form.”

“You are insane,” I growl, my heart thumping like mad. “Absolutely insane!”

He sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. I am a man of science, and it’s clear to me you are nothing but a brute. You Zorans are a mistake of nature, you know. All body but no brain. A shame.”

He slides the veil back into his pocket.

“I lived up to my end of the bargain. Tell me how you found out about us.”

“I’d sooner die than help you!” I say, yanking at my chains. My spirit animal and I are finally in agreement — this man deserves to die.

“I’ve got one better for you,” he smiles. “You can do both.”

Wellington stands up and walks towards me, flicking open a small knife he pulls from his pocket. He places it on my neck and nicks me, drawing a small drop of blood.

“If you’re lucky, you might be a suitable candidate,” he whispers into my ear. “And your essence will make me filthy rich. If not, I’ll enjoy watching you die as I fire you out of an airlock. Either way, know that you’ll bring me joy in death, Zoran.”