The market on Romadil Space station buzzed like a stirred-up hive. Trade was in full swing: blue-skinned humanoids shouted prices, mechanical spiders dragged crates of weapons, and in a corner, someone was grilling unidentified tentacles over an open flame. But all this din was drowned out by the roar of gunfire and the screech of brakes, as Rigger Vex tore through the crowd, knocking down stalls like bowling pins.

"Out of the way!" — she yelled, and her voice held not fear but wild delight. — "SPACE TEAR ME APART! They just don't give up!"

She clutched a bluish capsule the size of a football to her chest, damp with condensation, set in a metal frame. Five meters behind, a gang of three huge humanoids in combat armor was charging poachers who clearly weren't about to let their quarry go. Their blasters spat plasma, burning holes through tents and barely missing random passersby.

Rigger flipped over a crate of fruit, whipped out her pistol on the fly, and fired twice without aiming. One of her pursuers howled, grabbing his shoulder, but the others didn't slow down.

"Damn you!" — she gasped, feeling the blue sparks flare on her cheeks they blazed brighter as a wave of power surged through her body. And in front of her materialized a translucent, shimmering shield, shimmering with blue-violet discharges. Plasma charges slammed into it, bursting like fireworks, but Rigger just grinned.

"That all you got, you freaks!" — she shouted, vaulted over a overturned table, and dashed forward toward the open airlock, where in the dim station lights the silhouette of her old frigate the "Spark of Space" was visible.

Her legs throbbed, her lungs burned, but there were only about ten meters left to the ship. She heard footsteps behind her, the whistle of new shots, shouts in an alien tongue. The sparks on her face flared blindingly, she raised her shield one last time, deflected a volley, and burst into the open cargo bay, tumbling across the metal floor.

"SAM! CLOSE IT! GO!" — she screamed, still on the ground. — "TAKE OFF, DAMN IT! NOW!"

Up on the upper level, at the control panel, the bearded mechanic had already slammed the lever, asking no questions. The heavy bay doors slammed shut with a boom, and immediately plasma bursts hammered from outside but it was too late. The engines roared, the ship lurched like a wounded beast, and shot from the spot with a three‐G overload.

Rigger wasn't strapped in. She was thrown against the wall, her shoulder banged, she bit her tongue painfully, but her hands reflexively pressed the capsule to her chest, shielding it with her body.

"Ah‐ah‐ah, damn it!" — she groaned, sliding down the wall. The deck trembled under her feet, and a moment later the ship was already breaking through the station's atmosphere, bursting into open space. Three minutes later three long, vibrating minutes the overload eased. The navigator, Nova, switched the ship to cruising mode.

—

"RIGGER!" — came Nova's voice. She ran down the ladder from the bridge, her large eyes wide with anxiety, her long thin fingers already feeling the captain's shoulders, checking for wounds. — "Are you hurt? Blood? Where does it hurt? I saw you get thrown! Answer me!"

"Phew..." — Rigger exhaled, still sitting on the floor, but already grinning. — "I'm alive, I'm alive. In better shape than those chasing me. Just bruised my knee and spilled my coffee. Come on, Nova, stop poking me, I'm not made of glass."

She held up the capsule, admiring it through the slightly fogged glass. Inside, something dark was vaguely stirring, shimmering with bioluminescence.

"Stole it," — she said with a satisfied chuckle. — "The last representative of its species... Couldn't let them just sell it off like that..."

Nova knelt beside her, gently touching the capsule. And then both froze.

A thin crack, as fine as a hair, crept across the glass. Then another. And another. Fluid inside began to seep out, dripping onto the floor.

"Rigger..." — Nova's voice dropped. — "It's damaged..."

"I see it!" — the captain jumped to her feet, frantically looking around. — "Sam, do you have any sealant? What the hell!"

But it was too late. The capsule pulsed in her hands, the cracking grew louder, and a moment later it burst with a dull pop, scattering shards and splashing sticky, shimmering slime straight onto the metal deck.

Rigger and Nova recoiled. In a cloud of vapor and wet spray, among the fragments, on its knees, coughing and gasping, lay a creature. It struggled to draw a breath, shuddering all over, covered in slime.

They couldn't tell who it was. They didn't know what race this was. But one thing was clear it was alive. And it was looking at them.