Chapter 5: Chaos, scrap metal and people

Astra awoke slowly, stretching lazily in the cramped interior of a tent suspended above the frozen ground. The metal bars of the structure created delicate geometric shadows on her face, filtered through the leaves of the Waxwoods, which swayed slightly in the rhythm of the morning wind. The air was crisp, cool and filled with a pungent, almost earthy smell of burnt wood that reminded her of yesterday's bonfire.

She bit her lip, recalling last night, and still felt the bitter aftertaste of Alex's bourbon in her mouth. It was a beverage that seemed to scream that it was made not for taste, but for survival. The metallic bitterness mixed with a baking sweetness made her grimace every time she tried to swallow, and left a burning sensation in her throat. "Poison with ambition," she thought, with a wry smile.

She raised herself up on her elbows, drawing in air through her nose. From afar came the quiet hum of the wind that floated between the treetops, mingling with the melodious treble of bird-like creatures. Their sounds were both alien and captivatingly beautiful - a series of rising and falling tones that created a melody reminiscent of a nature concert on a distant, unknown world.

For a moment, she allowed herself to be still, savoring the morning silence. But as she opened her eyes wider, her thoughts quickly returned to reality.

"Where is Alex?" - she thought, poking her head out of the tent.

The tent floated about a meter and a half above the ground, and around it a white icy crust of frost covered the landscape like a thin layer of powdered sugar. Halcyon's morning sunshine cast a soft, warm light on everything, which contrasted with the frigid air. In the distance, she spotted Alex, who was bustling around the "Old Guard."

He inspected the vehicle's wheels, wiping dust from the covers with his hand and leaning over one of the indicators. His movements were smooth, sure, as if he had done them a thousand times before. Astra watched him silently for a moment, wondering how someone with such a predator-like appearance - with sharp facial features, dark hair blown by the wind and nonchalance in every gesture - could blend so perfectly into this harsh world.

- Good morning, princess," threw Alex suddenly, without turning in her direction.

His voice was calm, but loud enough to cut through the sounds of the morning.

- I hope you got some sleep. We are moving in a while, and we have less time than fuel in the tank.

Astra jumped down from the tent, feeling the chill momentarily envelop her body. She wrapped herself in a thin cloak, which only symbolically protected her from the temperature.

- Ready... I guess," she muttered, rubbing her eyes, in which she could still feel the weight of sleep. - Do we really have to get up so early before the universe has time to wake up properly?

Alex looked over his shoulder at her, and his lips lifted in a barely perceptible smile.

- At Halcyon you have a choice - you get up earlier from problems, or they wake you up first. Guess which I prefer.

Astra rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. She combed her hand through her hair, which fell softly on her shoulders, and looked at the "Old Guard." The vehicle seemed to glisten in the morning light, ready for the next challenge that awaited them on the road.

- Here you go, princess. The best coffee this side of Halcyon.

Astra looked at him suspiciously, then reluctantly took the cup. The dark liquid inside looked more like a lubricant than a drink, and its smell was so intense that she almost pulled her head back.

- Is this by any chance the residue from your engine oil? - She asked, wrinkling her nose.

Alex snorted with laughter.

- Don't be picky. I brewed it especially for you.

Astra shrugged her shoulders, bringing the cup to her lips. She took a cautious sip, then momentarily squirmed.

- Do you taste it? - She asked, barely restraining herself from spitting out the coffee. - Because I feel it's something between tar and burnt tire.

Alex just shrugged his shoulders, taking a long, carefree sip from his cup.

- It is not to taste, princess," he replied calmly. - It is supposed to work.

Astra looked at him with a mixture of amusement and anger.

- Act on what? On the stomach to make it explode?

- For anything that wakes you up," he replied with a smile that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing. - Welcome to the real world, where coffee is not nectar in a golden cup and mornings are overrated, especially those at dawn.

She took another sip with resignation, knowing that whatever she had to say about Alex's coffee, he was unlikely to listen to her anyway.

- Well," she chuckled, lifting her chin. - We'll see what the day brings.

In the distance, the wind rustled the leaves of the Waxwoods, and the sounds of bird-like creatures seemed to sing their way. These trees were their natural habitat, and the melodies filled the air with a strange harmony, simultaneously resembling the songs of earthly birds and the sounds of stringed instruments.

The creatures, which at first glance could be considered birds, were in fact much more than that. Called Meloraptors by locals, they had slender, aerodynamic bodies covered in feathers that seemed to pulsate with a soft light, as if each was a small lantern.

Their colors were mesmerizing, ranging from deep purple to bright blue to silvery highlights on the tips of their wings. Their heads were relatively small, with short, curved beaks that made melodious sounds of varying tones. Their eyes, large and sparkling, seemed to reflect their surroundings, as if they were made of polished glass.

The creatures' wings were long and slender, ideal for gliding between the treetops, and their tips had feathers resembling instrument strings that vibrated gently in the wind during flight, generating sounds that complemented their singing. They lived in small groups of five to ten individuals that moved together among the Waxwoods, gathering nectar from the flowers that appeared on the trees at dawn.

The sight of the creatures, their gentle, rippling flights and mesmerizing sounds made Astra momentarily forget the chill of the morning and all the chaos waiting for them further on. It was a moment of pure magic, encapsulated in a morning moment on Halcyon.

Alex smiled slightly under his breath as he opened the vehicle door.

They took off, and the "Old Guard" responded as usual with a whine of the engine and a hint of exhaust fumes that rose into the air behind them. The landscape around them began to change. The tall, twisted trees of the Waxwoods gradually gave way to open spaces. The ground took on a golden brown hue, covering itself with tall grasses that rippled in the wind like an ocean on the horizon.

Astra looked out the window at the savannah stretching before them. In the distance, she could see herds of Bush Bipeds, massive animals that looked like a cross between an antelope and a moose. Their antlers spread out in bizarre, almost spiral shapes, and they had skin in shades of gray and green, allowing them to blend in perfectly with their surroundings.

- What are these creatures? - She asked, pointing to one of the herds that was slowly moving toward the watering hole.

- Two-headed. - Alex gave her a brief glance. - Calm, until you take them from behind. Then they show that they are fast and furious.

Smaller animals could also be seen on the savannah - Grey Jumping Hares, resembling large hares with long tails, which hopped between clumps of grass with such speed that Astra could barely keep up with them with her eyes.

As they drove on, the landscape changed more and more. Shapes that Astra initially took to be hills began to loom on the horizon. However, the closer they drove, the more they took shape.

- What is it? - She asked, squinting her eyes.

Alex glanced in her direction and sighed.

- Ruins. It used to be a mining colony. Inferno 7, or something like that. Now it's just a pile of rubble.

They approached a place that looked like the wreckage of a forgotten world. Rusted skeletons of buildings rose above the waving grasses. Metal structures, corroded by years, looked as if they were about to collapse any moment. On one of them, Astra spotted the former logo of a mining company - barely visible under a layer of rust and grime.

- What happened here? - She asked, leaning out the window to get a better look at the ruins.

- The same as always," replied Alex, somewhat cynically. - People come, build something, and then leave everything when raw materials start to run out or profits stop coming in. What did you call it? Oh, yes - "a trail of big dreams".

Astra did not respond. She was too busy watching as small, agile animals with long tails and bright, shining eyes ran between the rubble of the colony. Strumpy Rats, as Alex called them, were known for their ability to survive almost anywhere - from mines to abandoned cities.

- Do you know what is the worst thing about such places? - chuckled Alex, speeding up slightly, as if he wanted to leave the place behind.

Astra looked at him questioningly.

- That no one remembers anymore who these people were. Nor what they were doing here. All that's left of them is a pile of scrap metal and a few memories that will disappear with the last of us.

His words sounded more serious than Astra expected. But before she could say anything, Alex pointed to the horizon, where the first lights of the city appeared.

- Now focus on what lies ahead. Red Harbor. Welcome to the biggest mess of this part of the planet.

"The Old Guard" was turtling heavier and heavier, as if complaining about the increasingly challenging terrain. The landscape was slowly losing its lush vegetation - the tall grasses of the savannah were giving way to dry, cracked earth, and the soft golden hues were beginning to turn to faded yellow and rusty brown. In the distance, the wind was lifting dust that drifted lazily like fog in the desert.

Astra watched all this with silent fascination. The land seemed increasingly barren, and the air - though still dry - took on a distinctly bitter aftertaste. The suns of Halcyon, now hanging low in the sky, cast long shadows on the rocks and individual dry shrubs that looked as if they were barely clinging to life.

In the distance, something caught her eye. It was like a mirage - a strip of green cutting through the ever-present desert. The closer they got to this point, the clearer the image became.

- What is it? - Astra asked, leaning slightly out the window.

Alex, sitting with a nonchalant expression on his face, glanced at the horizon, then shrugged his shoulders.

- Red Harbor. Or rather, its "green barrier." Don't be fooled. It doesn't look as pleasant up close as it does from a distance.

As the vehicle climbed the small hill, the landscape in front of them began to reveal more and more details. Astra held its breath as the vehicle came to a stop at the top of the hill, and the view of the "oasis" fully extended before them.

In the midst of a barren desert, like an oasis in the pages of ancient legends, was Red Harbor. Surrounded by a strip of greenery - artificially irrigated plants that formed a sort of curtain to protect the city from desert storms. Palm trees with thick, twisted trunks and bright, broad leaves stood in perfect ranks, like sentinels guarding the city limits. Below them stretched farmland, with rows of low plants that, from this distance, resembled a smoothly trimmed lawn.

In the middle of this "oasis" was a port. A huge space filled with ships of all sizes and shapes - from small, rusty merchant vessels to massive carriers that looked like flying cities. Metal cranes and cranes leaned over the docks, loading and unloading goods in an apparent chaos that nevertheless had some logic to it.

The city, adjacent to the port, was a collection of buildings of various sizes and styles. Some looked new - gleaming, made of shiny panels and lit with neon lights. Others were dilapidated, with metal patches and a tangle of cables hanging from the walls.

Astra couldn't take her eyes off the view.

- It looks ... different," she said, trying to find the right words.

Alex, leaning comfortably against the steering wheel, looked at her with a shadow of a smile.

- Otherwise? That's a pretty subtle way of saying "a pile of junk in a pretty package."

Astra looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

- Scrap or not, it's still impressive.

- Wait until we get inside," replied Alex, pressing down on the gas pedal. - Up close, everything loses its charm.

As the "Old Guard" started down the hill, Astra felt that the place held more secrets than she wanted to admit. But instead of fear, she felt excitement - something that reminded her why she had set out on this journey.

As they descended the hill, the landscape changed every minute. Astra noticed that the air, which had previously been almost transparent, now took on a soft red hue. Dust was rising lazily, as if time itself was slowing it down. It hung in the air in soft streaks, reflecting the rays of the setting sun of Halcyon.

- Dust everywhere," she said quietly, as if talking to herself.

- That's right," chuckled Alex, not taking his eyes off the road. - You snort it with your nose, it gets into your skin, and after a few hours even your liver and thoughts have a red tint.

The closer they got to the oasis, the more Astra noticed how the trees and bushes surrounding the city seemed to act as a natural barrier. The leaves of palm trees and twisted shrubs were covered with a fine layer of dust that settled on their surface like dust on a forgotten bookcase. Every breeze lifted particles from them, which swirled and fell to the ground again.

- It actually looks like a ... cover," she said, pointing to the green belt surrounding the city.

Alex nodded.

- This oasis. Or rather, a green filter against whatever out there," he pointed to the red desert behind them, "would try to sneak in here.

As she approached the border of the greenbelt, she noticed details that had previously escaped her attention. Around the trees stretched thin pipes, gleaming in the sunlight. There were jets rising from the ground, spraying a fine mist of water from time to time, trying to keep the plants alive in conditions that were completely unnatural for them.

- Irrigation," commented Alex. - It's just that instead of paradise here you have an artificial plantation that looks nice, but belches fumes from generators hidden underground.

Beyond the green border of the oasis began the first buildings of the port, which looked as if they were rising directly from the cracked, dusty ground. Astra drew in the air deeply, but instead of the fresh scent of trees and wind, she smelled a pungent mixture of exhaust fumes, diesel fuel and heated metal. The smell was suffocating, thick, as if the very atmosphere of Red Harbor was made of chemical waste and mechanical fumes.

- You can smell technology a mile away," she muttered, looking at the cranes and cranes towering over the port.

Their massive steel arms moved slowly and precisely, like giant mechanical beasts at work.

- Welcome to Red Harbor," replied Alex, stopping the vehicle at the edge of the first docks. - A place where plastic pretends to be nature and people pretend to have everything under control.

The port buildings were monumental and overwhelming. They resembled metal fortresses - devoid of any finesse, built solely with functionality in mind. Most of them were covered with a thick layer of dust and rust, which formed a rusty red corrosion on them, as if the buildings themselves were suffering from the disease of the place. The single neon signs above the entrances flashed irregularly, their light casting faint, pulsating reflections on the dilapidated surfaces.

The cranes and cranes, lined up in even rows along the docks, seemed to live a life of their own. Each was equipped with numerous joints and grapples that moved with mechanical precision, lifting huge containers and stacking them on the dock ramps. Steel rails on the ground delineated their movement, and each bump of the steel grapple against the container made a deafening, rhythmic sound, reminiscent of the port's heartbeat.

Along the docking ramps moved cargo robots - rectangular, massive machines that resembled metal scarabs. Their long arms slid underneath the containers, lifting them with ease before moving toward the transporters standing on the platforms. Their paths were defined by glowing red lines that crisscrossed the concrete plaza like the pulsating veins of a harbor.

The oasis, which seemed full of life just a moment ago, was now just a blurry patch of green against the dominant gray and rust of the harbor. The dust that floated in the air settled on everything - on the hulls of the ships, on the ramps, on the works themselves, covering them with a thin layer of dirt. The docking ships in Red Harbor were massive and uneven - from huge, modern transporters with gleaming titanium hulls, to aging wrecks that seemed to be held together only by the willpower of their crews.

Astra watched as the port bustled with life, though that life seemed more mechanical than human. She had the impression that everything here worked not because of people, but despite their presence.

- How does this place even function? - She asked, looking at one of the cargo robots that had just placed a container on the ramp with a bang.

- Only on the surface," replied Alex, getting out of the vehicle and stretching. - It's worse inside, believe me.

Astra looked around once more, inhaling the air, which was now filled mostly with dust and the stench of oil. The place, though bustling with traffic, was like a poisoned version of life - full of work, but devoid of any beauty.

In the distance, over the harbor, a sky of pale pink could be seen, which seemed to contrast with the dark shapes of the city.

Alex looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

- Well, princess. Ready for your first lesson on what a real mess looks like?

- Lead the way," she said, with a slight smile that hid more determination than Alex could have guessed.

Together they moved toward the docks, leaving behind the red desert and green cover that seemed to be the last bastion of order in a world full of chaos.

The dust was getting more and more into her nostrils, and Astra felt the particles settle on her clothes, forming a rough, rusty layer. The red dust, borne by the wind, seemed omnipresent, seeping into every nook and cranny, as if even the air in Red Harbor could not be free of dirt. She sighed quietly, feeling the grains crunch between her teeth, yet she couldn't take her eyes off her surroundings.

The closer they got, the more the details of the port came into focus. The metal ramps leading to the ships were rusted and covered with a thick layer of dust that, under the sunlight, looked like brown residue on a surface that had been neglected for too long. On some of the ramps stood containers - huge, rectangular lumps with faded logos of former corporations whose names few remembered anymore. Some were eroded by corrosion, others had visible signs of impacts and cracks that looked like wounds from brutal use.

The cargo robots, massive and clumsy, moved on caterpillar tracks whose mechanical rasps resembled the sounds of predators searching for food. Each of these steel colossi was laden with multi-ton loads that seemed as light to them as lunch boxes to an ordinary person. Their arms gripping the containers glistened with oil, and each lowering or lifting of the goods ended with a loud clatter, as if the metal objected to its work.

She spotted one of the operators - a man in a sweaty gray shirt stood on a metal rise. His face was dark with dust, and his voice seemed to roar above the noise of the machinery. Waving his hands, he gave instructions to the other worker, who looked as if he relied more on intuition than actual instructions. Fatigue was painted on their faces, but in their movements was the determination of people who know that life here does not offer the luxury of rest.

- It all looks... - began Astra, trying to find the right word to capture the essence of the place.

- Like a pile of scrap metal that somehow works? - finished Alex, casting her a look from under slightly furrowed brows. - That's exactly what Red Harbor is. The mechanical heart of this world that pulls until someone pulls the plug.

Passing through another gate, Astra spotted something that stood out in the industrial landscape. A group of children were running between containers, in the shadow of a giant crane. They were dirty, their clothes covered in dust and torn at the seams, but the smiles on their faces were wide and full of sincere joy. They raced with makeshift toys made of pieces of metal, plastic pipes and leftover wheels that they rolled on the uneven ground. Their laughter, high and carefree, seemed to contrast strangely with the harsh environment around them.

- The children here? - Astra asked, gazing in disbelief at the toddlers playing.

- And why not? - shrugged Alex's shoulders, interrupting his observation of the robots. - Red Harbor is not just a port. It's a city. A place of work for some, a home for others. And though it looks like a pile of rubble, for these children it's the only world they know.

With each step toward the center of the port, the sounds became more intense. The horns of machines, the metallic thuds of containers, the rasp of tools and the shouts of tradesmen all overlapped, creating a cacophony that, while tiresome at first glance, seemed to have its own peculiar rhythm. Astra felt these sounds almost resonate in her body, as if Red Harbor was trying to assimilate it in its own brutal way.

She stopped abruptly, attracted by the sight of a huge ship docked at the main dock. Its hull was scarred from years of use - deep scratches, smeared marks from small explosions, and in some places pieces of armor were stenciled with completely different materials. It looked like a seasoned warrior who should have retired long ago, but was still forced to fight. Its engines in the rear looked as if they had been assembled from random parts found in a junkyard, yet they seemed ready for another takeoff.

She looked at it all with a mixture of fascination and disgust. There was something raw, almost brutally honest about Red Harbor that simultaneously repelled and attracted. It was a fortress of humans and machines, who together persisted in a symbiosis of chaos and functionality.

- This is the kind of ship we find? - She asked, pointing to the colossus.

Alex laughed quietly, as if this question was the most naive thing he had ever heard.

- No, princess. It's just a transport ship. We need something smaller, more agile. Something you can take without asking.

- However, shall we steal it? - She asked.

Alex shrugged his shoulders, as if stealing a ship was as everyday for him as buying his morning coffee.

- We don't steal. We borrow. With a deferred return that will never happen.

Astra shook her head, trying to hide a smile.

- In that case, where do we look?

Alex pointed to a squalid inn squeezed between two larger warehouses. Its signboard, illuminated by barely working neon lights, announced the name: "Space Dust."

- First we go in there," he said, moving toward the door. - My old friend may have what we need. But be warned - this place is a mess.

Astra looked at him, with a slight concern, but also a hint of excitement.

- Lead the way," she said, following him inside, where new secrets and the next stage of their mission awaited them.

The door of the inn opened with a protracted groan, as if the hinges were begging for peace, and their rusty protests seemed to warn of what awaited inside. "Cosmic Dust" made it clear from the first glance that it was a place where elegance never took hold even for a moment. The interior looked as if it had been designed by an anarchist and renovated by someone even less qualified. The wooden floor, full of burrs and holes, bore traces of dust, mud and things you'd better not think about.

The walls, covered with old paint peeling in many places, were decorated with remnants of cracked holo-posters advertising long-forgotten concerts and events. Among them hung neon signs that once likely attracted customers, but now flickered incongruously, casting pale light on the remnants of rusted picture frames and random marks left by broken glasses.

The centerpiece of the room was a long, massive bar counter with a metal top that showed gouges and scratches, as if someone had repeatedly tested the strength of blades there. Behind the counter stood a bartender whose figure resembled a barrel on legs. He had a face that bore the signs of too many years spent in the fumes of alcohol and smoke, and his beard, thick and streaked with gray, seemed to be as damaged as the rest of the establishment. It resembled an overgrown moss that had long ago forgotten that it should grow elsewhere.

The tables, arranged in chaotic disarray, looked as if they were just waiting for their legs to finally yield to gravity. At one of them sat a group of miners - their faces were dark with dust, and their hands bore the scars from years of working with heavy equipment. At another, slightly off to the side, mechanics were discussing something animatedly, brandishing wrenches and tools that seemed more for show than in use. Traders, with slightly blackened eyes, sat in corners, leaning over old-looking devices that looked like outdated tablets and communicators.

When Alex and Astra crossed the threshold, the conversation at the tables quieted almost immediately, and all eyes focused on them - or rather, on her.

In these surroundings, Astra looked like a figure taken out of a painting - her elegant outfit, tailored to perfection, shone softly in the dim, uneven light of the inn. The material of which it was made reflected the glow of the neon lights, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Compared to the dirty shirts and rough overalls of the regulars of "Space Dust," she was like an angel who had accidentally found herself in a place where even the air seemed dusty.

- Well, you have quite an entrance, princess," muttered Alex under his breath, amused, not trying to hide his smile.

Astra looked at him out of the corner of her eye, ignoring the whispers and discreet pokes that began to spread among the regulars.

One of the miners, sitting closest to the door, took off his hat as if he were dealing with a royal visit, and the bartender, leaning heavily on the counter, raised an eyebrow, looking at her with evident curiosity.

- This is no place for such sights," he chuckled, breaking the silence that had fallen.

Alex waved his hand in his direction, as if warding off a fly.

- Don't worry. We just stopped by for a moment. And I promise your clientele will return to their normal rhythm as soon as we get our business done.

The bartender twisted his mouth into something that could have been a smile, but was more like a grimace of disbelief.

- If they don't eat it beforehand," he added, looking significantly at Astra, who tried not to pay attention to the onlookers.

The interior of the tavern seemed to fill with an electric atmosphere as Alex led her toward a vacant table in the corner, away from the most curious eyes. Despite feeling like an object on display, Astra straightened her back and sat down gracefully, ignoring the quiet murmur of conversation that once again filled the room. Red Harbor seemed to welcome them in its own somewhat violent way.

- It seems that they don't often see someone washed here," she noted, glancing at Alex with a shadow of a smile.

- You know what else they don't often see here? - Alex replied, leading her toward one of the vacant tables. - Someone who can pay the bill normally.

The buzz of conversation slowly returned to normal, although some gazes still slid over Astra. One of the men, a miner with a face covered in scars and dust, chuckled half-heartedly to his companion:

- Look, a damsel from some luxury ship brought in. A premium cunt. I wonder what her crack tastes like.

His companion burst out laughing, which he quickly suppressed as Alex turned toward them, throwing them a look icy enough to freeze them in place.

- What now? - Astra asked, leaning slightly over the table to keep her voice from spreading around the room.

Alex pointed with his chin toward the bartender, who was lazily wiping his glass with a rag that looked as clean as the rest of the place.

- I'll start by talking to him," he said, leaning back in his chair. - He knows who is in port at any given time, who has what for sale and who is currently looking for trouble.

- And what should I do? - She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alex smiled slightly, though there was more than simple amusement in his eyes.

- Just sit there. And try not to look like a cunt from another universe.

Astra squinted, but did not respond, allowing Alex to get up and head for the bar. Her gaze wandered around the interior of the tavern. She noticed that several men were still looking at her with open curiosity, while others were whispering something among themselves. She felt that the place not only fascinated her, but also put her to the test.

Alex approached the bar, where the bartender gave him a brief glance from above a glass that he had been wiping down for probably a decade.

- Alex. - His voice was deep and husky, as if each word cost him more effort than it was worth. - It's been a long time since you were here.

- Maybe because every time I come here, the atmosphere gets thicker than your mash," replied Alex, leaning with his elbow on the counter. - But I must admit that I missed your personal charm, Garv.

The bartender, parried a laugh that sounded like the crunching of stones.

- Probably as much as I missed your foolish ideas. What brings you back?

Alex leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

- I need a ship. A small, efficient one, capable of interstellar jumps. And I need it fast.

Garv looked at him curiously, then shifted his gaze to Astra, who was still sitting at the table, straight as a string, with a face that said "impeccable" in every way.

- And who is this? - He asked, pointing at her with a motion of his head. - A new partner? Or a new problem?

Alex smiled mockingly.

- Let's say it's a sponsor. Now don't ask for more, just tell me if you have what I'm looking for.

Garv leaned against the counter, thinking for a moment.

- Maybe I have, maybe I don't. It depends on how much you are able to pay.

- I don't pay. - Alex looked him straight in the eye. - But I'll be happy to borrow.

Garv raised an eyebrow, as if he had heard the funniest joke of the day.

- Do you borrow? Like in the old days? I'll remind you that the "borrowed" ship the last time deleted half the port and cost me almost my head.

- This time will be different," replied Alex with a smile. - Well, and maybe you will make money.

Garv shook his head, but did not say no.

- I may have something that would suit you," he finally said. - But you should know that things have been hot at the port lately. Several new players are looking for easy money here, and others are watching their business like vultures. If you move something inappropriate, everyone will know.

- Thanks for your concern," chuckled Alex ironically, extending his hand. - What's it like? Do you help or should I look elsewhere?

Garv sighed heavily, as if the conversation had cost him more than it was worth, then nodded.

- Come to the back of the docks in an hour. I have something you might be interested in. But if something goes wrong, I'd better not see you again.

Alex smiled slightly, as if he had just won a small battle, then turned around and went back to the table, where Astra was waiting with an unchanged expression on her face, although you could see the question in her eyes.

- And how? - She asked as soon as he sat down.

- We have a business meeting. - Alex supported himself on a chair, glancing at her elegant outfit, which continued to attract stares. - But you'd better not look so.... special.

Astra furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him with clear displeasure.

- And what am I supposed to do? Dress up in something that looks like the rags they wear?

Alex smiled under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

- Actually, it's a good idea. But don't worry, princess. You will still manage to charm them with your presence.

For Alex, it's an everyday occurrence. For Astra - the first step on a whole new path.

The door of the inn closed behind them with a bang that seemed to say: "And don't come back here." Astra reflexively shuddered, though the warm, dry dust-filled air of Red Harbor quickly brought her to her senses. Red dust swirled in the air, settling on everything from faded neon signs to the cracking walls of nearby buildings. She lifted her hand to adjust the collar of her coat, feeling the rough specks on her skin.

Alex dragged himself along, as if getting out of the stuffy interior of the inn was a relief.

- Red Harbor impresses you? - He asked with a half-smile, pushing back with his hand the hair that the wind blew in his face.

- It is ... different," she replied, her gaze shifting across the chaotic landscape of the port. Steel cranes loomed on the horizon like the skeleton of a giant animal, and the sounds of thumping, grinding and muffled screams could be heard from all sides. - I don't know if it was in a positive sense.

Alex laughed briefly, with a hint of irony in his voice.

- You'll get used to it," he threw over his shoulder, moving toward the vehicle. - Or you'll hate it. Those are more or less the only options.

"The Old Guard" stood parked on the side of the road, looking like something that doesn't quite want to be noticed. Its time-eroded panels and thin layer of dust blended into the harbor background. Alex opened the door, and Astra climbed into the cabin, feeling the warmth of the metal penetrate her clothing.

The engine roared as Alex started the vehicle, making a sound reminiscent of an aging body's protest.

The road led them deeper into the heart of the port. Astra looked out the side window, following every detail of her surroundings with her eyes. People were working everywhere - warehousemen were moving crates, traders were setting up their makeshift stalls with goods that looked smuggled in from hundreds of different places, and mechanics were kneeling by their machines, doing their best to keep them from falling apart.

- It all seems so... - she began, uncertain how to find the right word.

- Raw? - prompted Alex, focusing on the road ahead of them.

- Absolute," she corrected him.

Alex smiled at the corner of his mouth.

- Red Harbor is not a place for gentle souls. Here, everything you do comes down to one rule: survive.

The vehicle passed a group of children who were running between containers. One of them pulled a makeshift cart made of sheet metal and plastic wheels, and the rest chased, shouting and laughing, as if there was no dust, noise or heavy machinery around. Astra looked at this contrast with a mixture of fascination and sadness.

- Even the kids here look tougher than some of the adults I know," she said, turning her head toward Alex.

- The children here must be like that," he replied, his voice surprisingly serious. - Life here does not spoil them.

After a moment of silence, Astra pointed to another sight with a movement of her head - a group of people standing by a smoking stove that looked as if it had been pieced together from random parts. Thick, greasy smoke was rising above the stove, and figures with faces blackened from dirt and hands that looked like they were covered in a layer of oil were shuffling around.

- And this? - She asked.

- Provisional smelter," replied Alex, without looking at her. - Here nothing is wasted. If you can melt something and reuse it, you do it.

Eventually they stopped in front of a squalid warehouse at the edge of the harbor. It was a low, squat building whose walls were almost completely covered with rust and graffiti. A faint neon light from one of the disheveled signs cast a ghostly glow on the entrance.

- It looks ... encouraging," chuckled Astra, glancing at Alex.

- This is Red Harbor," he replied, extinguishing the engine. - Here everything looks like it's about to fall apart.

She unbuckled her belt and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

- Ready? - He asked, smiling under his breath.

- What if I say no? - she replied, returning the gaze.

- That's you going in anyway," he chuckled with a smile, opening the door. - Now, come on. It's time to find out what else this world can surprise us with.

Astra was already about to get out of the vehicle when she noticed that he was staring at something outside the window. She followed his gaze and saw several pieces of clothing strung on a makeshift rope between two rusted metal posts. The clothes were faded, frayed at the edges and looked like they had seen more than she could ever imagine.

- What are you doing? - She asked as Alex got out of the cabin and started toward the laundry line.

- I protect us from problems," he replied, as if it was obvious.

He grabbed a few pieces of clothing: a faded gray shirt with stains that would never wash out, and a loose brown coverall resembling a work coat. He cast a glance around, as if making sure no one was watching them, then returned to the vehicle with the clothes slung over his shoulder.

- Put it on," he said, handing Astra the garment.

- Are you kidding me? - she replied, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and disgust. - These things look like they've been used by someone who hasn't washed for centuries.

Alex rolled his eyes, leaning against the vehicle door.

- And your "impeccable attire," as you call it, is like the neon sign "alien" in this place. Red Harbor is no place for subtlety, princess. If you want to survive, you have to look like you belong in this world.

Astra sighed, lifting her shirt, which smelled of a mixture of dust, oil and what might have been dried sweat.

- It's awful," she muttered, trying to find the least disgusting side of the material.

- Maybe terrible, but effective," replied Alex with a smile. - Come on. We don't have all day.

With a heavy heart, she threw on a loose coat and shirt, which in an instant destroyed the elegance of her outfit. Alex looked at her for a moment, then nodded appreciatively.

- Now you look like an honorary citizen of Red Harbor. Congratulations.

Astra measured him with her eyes, but decided not to say anything. As they moved toward the warehouse, she could feel the rough material scratching her skin and the smell of clothing wafting around her like a reminder that she was far from familiar comfort.

- Is it really necessary? - She asked after a while, looking at Alex.

- Absolutely," he replied, throwing her a fleeting glance. - Sometimes looks are everything, princess. And here it is better to look like someone who has more scars than money.

- When you said we had a meeting, did you have something specific in mind? - She asked, breaking the silence.

Alex gave her a quick glance.

- I mean a guy who can own a ship. As long as he hasn't changed the industry to selling bad alcohol.

- What if it's a trap? - She asked anxiously.

- This is Red Harbor," replied Alex with disarming calmness. - Every encounter here is a trap. The key is to be a bigger rat than those who set the trap.

Astra rolled her eyes, but said nothing more.

- Remember, princess," he threw over his shoulder. - Here it's not what you know that counts, it's how well you pretend to have everything under control.

Astra raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, just moved behind him, ready for another dose of the chaos that seemed to be a daily occurrence in Red Harbor.

Alex pushed open the heavy metal warehouse door, which opened with a shrill creak, as if the hinges were begging for mercy and the last lubrication had been done decades ago. Inside, they were struck by the semi-darkness - light came in through a few led lamps hung from makeshift hooks, whose sloppily routed cables wound across the ceiling like a spider web. The air was heavy, stifling, full of a mixture of grease, oil and an unpleasant odor that Astra identified as coming from rotting food scraps somewhere in a corner.

The interior resembled an industrial version of chaos. On one side, piles of spare parts piled up - pipes of various sizes, engine fragments, mechanical components scattered as if after an explosion. On the other side of the warehouse stood old, rusty spaceships, looking like wrecks pulled from the bottom of some interstellar graveyard. Their hulls were half disassembled, some open like shells, with their innards sticking out in the form of wires and panels. The concrete floor underfoot was cracked and slippery from layers of oil that glistened in the faint light. Each step echoed deafeningly, adding a strangely oppressive atmosphere to the place.

In the middle of this mechanical mess stood several people. The one who stood out most was a short, stocky man in a soiled work suit who looked as if he had never experienced a washing machine. His face, covered with smudges of grease, betrayed age - a wrinkled forehead and tired eyes that nevertheless shone with intelligence and cunning. His thick gray beard, reaching almost to his chest, was so scruffy that Astra wondered if he was hiding some kind of creature.

In his hands rested a pneumatic wrench, which he turned as if it were a prop in a mechanical theater. Two younger workers bustled around him - scrawny, with patched overalls, they threw Alex and Astra brief, curious glances, but quickly went back to work dismantling one of the smaller ships.

- Alex! - The stocky man raised his hands, his voice reverberated off the walls like the roar of an old generator. - I don't believe my eyes! It's a miracle that you're still alive, you damn bastard!

Alex smiled with mock satisfaction, approaching the man with a confident step.

- Hello, Lorv. Well, dying is a luxury for those who don't have more interesting things to do.

Lorv laughed out loud, his laughter resembling the sound of a jamming mechanism.

- Mouthed as usual," he muttered, rubbing his dirty hand over an even dirtier suit before extending it toward Alex. - What brings you here?

- I need a ship," replied Alex, squeezing his hand. - And I heard that you have something at hand.

Lorv raised an eyebrow, glancing at Astra, who was standing next to him, trying not to show his surprise.

- And what is this princess? - He asked, pointing at her with an air wrench. - What are you doing here, girl? Are you looking for excitement or trouble?

- Client," replied Alex, before Astra had time to say anything. - And my retirement, so you better not start with the docs.

Lorv laughed again, throwing his head back.

- Well, well, well. Then come on, I'll show you what I have. But be warned, nothing here is first-rate," he said, moving deeper into the warehouse, where even more piles of parts and mechanical debris could be seen.

Astra threw Alex a look that expressed a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

- A client? Really? - she muttered quietly.

- Better a "client" than a "victim of fate"," replied Alex with a smile, moving behind Lorv. - Believe me, princess, in this place it is better to be someone who pays than someone who begs.

Astra looked around the interior of the warehouse, feeling the gaze of the workers penetrate her like hundreds of needles. They were dirty, sweaty, with faces covered in dust and smudges of grease. Their washed work clothes, once probably dark blue or gray, were now faded and full of holes, bearing the marks of years of use. The glances they cast her were suspicious, as if they were assessing whether the two had any right to be in their world of chaos and work.

On the walls of the warehouse hung tools - pneumatic wrenches, heavy hammers, plasma welders - each looking as if they were ready for decades of persistent grind. A tangle of cables and wires dangled from the ceiling, and the concrete floor was stained with dark oil that formed a mosaic of indelible stains.

- What is this place? - She asked quietly, glancing at Alex, though it was hard for her to hide the skepticism in her voice.

Alex looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his lips curved in a barely perceptible smile.

- Red Harbor in a nutshell," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. - Chaos, scrap metal and people who will do anything to survive. Now come on, let's see what the junkman will offer us.

Lorv, walking ahead of them, stopped under one of the larger lamps, whose flickering light barely illuminated the space. His hand, covered in scars and dirt, pointed to an object standing in the shadows.

- Here is the "Faithful Dog," he said proudly, as if he was showing a work of art.

Astra looked at the ship and immediately felt her shoulders slump. In front of them stood a massive machine that looked like it was a collection of random parts put together by prayer and willpower. The hull, scratched and covered with rust scales, had countless patches of metal on it that did not match in color or texture.

One of the side walls had a dent the size of a small vehicle, and the engines sticking out the back looked as if they had been tacked on at the last minute, just so the ship could take off at all. On the side was the barely legible name "Faithful Dog," painted in paint that had long since begun to peel.

- It may not look it, but it works," Lorv continued, ignoring Astra's skeptical look. - And most importantly, it has one advantage.

Alex raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

- Which one? - He asked, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

Lorv smiled broadly, showing crooked teeth, some of which looked like they had battle stories of their own.

- No one ever expects that this scrap can escape from the port.

- Does it work? - Astra asked, crossing her arms.

Lorv extended his hand toward the ship, as if to say, "See for yourself."

- It works better than it looks. You're not telling me you can't afford a little confidence, are you? - He laughed, but his voice sounded more like a creaking machine than a human being.

Alex came closer, sliding his hand over the cold metal.

- I remember you saying the same thing about that freighter on Rigil VII," he said with a smile. - That one barely lasted three days.

Lorv squinted, pretending to be outraged.

- You see, the Dog is not just a scrap. He is a legend. He may not look like a hero, but he will get you where you need to go.

Astra looked at Alex with a sidelong glance, and then once again at the ship.

- A legend? - She asked in disbelief. - It looks more like an epitaph.

Alex turned to her with a broad smile.

- Welcome to the palace of Lorva, princess. Here you choose between scrap metal and.... something that can't even be called scrap.

Astra looked at their new transport. The ship, though of dubious beauty, had something familiar about it, like a faithful, life-weary dog that still clings to its owner despite everything. And perhaps it was in this apparent fragility that its charm lay - it looked as if it had survived more than it should have and still had the strength for another adventure.

"Faithful Dog" was a ship whose design seemed more the result of desperation than thoughtful engineering. Its hull was shaped like an elongated rectangle with a rounded front, somewhat resembling a dog's snout - wide at the bottom and slightly tapering toward the top. The front featured large, armored portholes, presumably meant to serve as windows, though they were so dirty and scratched that it was hard to imagine seeing anything through them.

On top of the ship was a small control module that resembled a cabin strapped to the rest of the hull. It was slightly raised, and its surface was decorated with antennas and other protrusions that seemed mostly useless.

The sides of the ship appeared to be assembled from various parts that did not fit together in shape or material - titanium bumpers, solar panels, and in some places pieces with oddly irregular textures, as if they had been welded together from random plastics.

Underneath the ship were two massive supports, resembling the legs of a canine animal ready to leap. Their surface was so worn that it was unclear whether they had ever undergone maintenance. At the rear of the fuselage protruded the engines - four cylindrical outlets, two of which were smaller and appeared to have been patched with additional components. The whole structure looked as if it was barely holding together, thanks to the owner's somewhat oversized hopes.

- This is a customer's ship," Lorv began, walking up to the hull and tapping his knuckles on it. The metal responded with a deafening sound that might as well have come from an empty can or an old fuel barrel. - Or rather, it was his.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head.

- "Was?"

Lorv shrugged his shoulders with a face that said "it's obvious, after all."

- The guest to whom this marvel belonged played "Star Poker." And, well, he didn't do too well.

Alex snorted under his breath, and Astra, standing to the side, raised an eyebrow.

- "Star Poker?" - she repeated with evident disbelief.

Lorv looked at her as if he had just seen someone who does not know the basic rules of the universe.

- Well, of course you haven't heard the treasure," he replied, with a wide smile that revealed a row of teeth that deserves a separate story. - This is a game for those who think they have more luck than sense. The guest bet the ship, lost, and then, as is usually the case, disappeared before the debts could catch up with him.

Alex looked at Lorv from under squinted eyelids.

- What about those who won it?

Lorv spread his hands in a theatrical gesture.

- They are probably long dead by now. This is Red Harbor. Here no one asks questions when it comes to the fate of such "lucky" people. The ship was supposed to be picked up a year ago, but no one came for it. And here it is. It's rusting, gathering dust, taking up valuable space and waiting.

Astra furrowed her brow, still looking at the ship, which looked more like a pile of scrap metal than a means of transportation.

- What is she waiting for? - She asked, as if she was afraid of the answer.

Lorv laughed, and his laughter resembled the rasping of an outdated mechanism.

- For someone who will "borrow" it and disappear before the port rats realize what has happened.

Alex squinted, shifting his gaze from the ship to Lorv, with a slight smile.

- So can I take it? Just like that?

Lorv took a step back and raised his hands in a defensive gesture, as if he wanted to cut himself off from any obligation.

- Of course not "just like that," he replied, wiping his hands in an even dirtier rag than himself. - You have to do me a small favor.

Alex sighed theatrically, rolling his eyes.

- Of course, there is always some "small favor". What is it this time?

Lorv leaned in slightly, as if he was going to tell them the biggest secret of the universe, though his eyes sparkled with his typical cunning.

- There's this issue with some guys, which they think they can fool me. I want you to remind them that it's not good for their health.

Alex looked at Astra, then at Lorv again.

- Sure, we'll remind you. And then "Faithful Dog" is ours.

Lorv patted Alex on the shoulder, laughing with satisfaction.

- I knew we'd get along, man. This place needs people like you.

Lorv moved even closer, reducing the distance between them, and his voice lowered to a whisper that seemed to cut through the thick air of the warehouse. He spoke as if even the walls could suddenly come to life and begin to report.

- There is a guy," he began, dragging the words with clear emphasis. - He is backlogging me with goods. Nothing big, some construction materials. I want you to remind him that the delivery date is not just a suggestion.

Alex crossed his arms, and that ironic half-smile appeared on his face, which always heralded that he was about to say something.

- And I'm probably supposed to get the goods back by accident, too, huh?

Lorv shrugged his shoulders in a manner so theatrical that Astra wondered for a moment if he was doing it on purpose.

- As if you were eager enough to help an old friend, by the way," he replied with a smile that more resembled a predatory grimace.

Astra shifted her gaze from Lorv to Alex and then back to Lorv, trying to decipher how much was still unsaid in this exchange of words.

- What if we agree? - she interjected, trying to make her voice sound confident, although she felt that Alex and Lorv's tone precluded any questions.

Lorv turned his head toward her and looked at her, as if he had only now noticed her presence.

- If you agree, the ship is yours," he said slowly, as if each word was a seal sealing the deal.

Alex smiled under his breath, that characteristic smile of his that always heralded that he had already made up his mind before anyone had time to protest.

- It's okay," he said, patting Lorv on the shoulder, perhaps a little too hard. - We will take care of it. But if this ship falls apart after a few days, I will personally come back to tell you q the right way.

Lorv parried with a laugh that was more like the rasp of metal against metal.

- If you come back, Alex, you will be the first to do it.

Alex, with a smile that might as well have been an expression of self-confidence as pure insolence, approached Lorv. He leaned carelessly against a protruding section of the hull of the "Faithful Dog," as if he already owned the ship. His gaze, though seemingly relaxed, betrayed that he was about to set conditions that could not be easily circumvented.

- Okay, Lorv," he began, indicating the ship with a motion of his head. - I'll do this favor of yours, but I have a few minor requests.

Lorv raised an eyebrow, his face expressing something between amusement and resignation.

- Of course you have," he replied with exaggerated sarcasm.

- First of all," Alex raised his finger and looked Lorv straight in the eye. - The latest interstellar port access codes. No "maybe it will work, maybe it won't." Without that, this junk won't even fly to a neighboring system.

Lorv crossed his arms, his smile vanished, but he nodded.

- You will get the codes. But don't expect miracles. What I have is enough to slip through unnoticed.

- That's enough for me," replied Alex with satisfaction. - Second: a full tank of fuel. Not "almost full" or "about to refuel." I want to know that we can take off right away.

Lorv sighed theatrically, as if Alex had just asked for a star from heaven.

- Fuel? Sure. How about a massage and a drink to say goodbye?

- Drinks yes," replied Alex with a stone face. - A case of bourbon. On board.

Lorv blinked, looking at Alex as if the latter had just offered him to join the elite suicide club.

- Bourbon? You are mocking me, aren't you?

- Not a bit," replied Alex, pointing a finger at Lorv. - Don't try to tell me that you don't have supplies.

Lorv scratched his chin, pretending to consider the proposal, though a glint of amusement could be seen in his eyes.

- Okay. I'll wrap it up.

Alex smiled, this time broadly.

Astra, who has stood by until now, finally interjected, raising an eyebrow.

- Bourbon? Really?

Alex turned to her, with the same annoyingly confident smile.

- Princess, in this profession motivation is everything. And nothing motivates as well as a warm bourbon after a hard day.

Lorv laughed, waving his hand at them.

- All right, all right, get lost. The guest you are looking for is called Tork. You can find him at the "Desert Wolf." It's a brothel with bar at the southern end of the port. But remember - you'd better come back with the goods.

- Be calm, Lorv," chuckled Alex, moving towards the exit. - We'll be back sooner than you expect.

Astra followed him, with a facial expression that clearly suggested she did not share his enthusiasm.

- Ready for another life lesson at the colony? - He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at her with an expression on his face that was a mix of challenge and amusement.

Astra sighed, feeling that they were just stepping onto ground that was much more sandy than she would like to admit.

- Ready. But this ship better be worth it.

Alex smiled wider, as if he had just heard something that only confirmed his plan.

- I wouldn't worry about that," he chuckled, turning around and heading for the exit. - Worry about what we will do if we don't.

- Tork, brothel, debt," she muttered as they walked outside. - Sounds like trouble that ends badly.

Alex fired up the "Old Guard" and looked at her with a gleam in his eye.

- Trouble is the daily bread. And if you want so much to Earth, you'd better start getting used to them. But I promise you one thing - it won't be boring.

Before Astra had time to respond, the vehicle took off, raising a cloud of dust behind it as they headed toward the southern end of the port.

Desert Wolf deserved its name - it was as rough and unpredictable as the desert surrounding the harbor. It was a place that deserved its name for several reasons, but the main one was its ability to combine Red Harbor's two most profitable "industries" - alcohol and carnal pleasures. When they stopped the vehicle in front of the building, the impression it gave raised more questions than it answered. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary, low barracks, with sheet metal rusted at the edges and walls scarred with graffiti that depicted futuristic designs interspersed with vulgar symbols. Up close, however, the details betrayed that the place hid something more.

A large, flickering neon sign hung above the entrance. A stylized wolf with an open maw seemed to growl at anyone who dared to walk through the door. Some of the letters in the name were burnt out, so the sign once displayed the full name and once something closer to "P..tyn. Wil." From inside the building came a strange mix of sounds - electronic beats combined with the rough sound of old-fashioned blues, passed through several distortion filters.

In front of the entrance, several people were hovering around - each of them looking as if life had run over them with heavy equipment. One man, thin and stooped, was smoking a cigarette emitting purple smoke that swirled in the air like an exotic fog. Another, clearly drunk, was leaning against the wall, mumbling something under his breath to someone who probably existed only in his imagination.

Alex turned off the engine and looked at Astra.

- Well, princess, welcome to the real capital of moral bankruptcy.

Astra wrinkled her nose, her gaze sliding over the building and its occupants.

- This... is a bar?

- And a brothel," corrected Alex with a smile. - But not just any brothel. This is where people come to forget that life in Red Harbor is a constant downfall.

They went inside, and the door closed behind them with a deafening slam. Astra immediately felt a hit of smells: the pungent aroma of cheap alcohol, the scent of bodies mixed with sweat, and a sweet-chemical note that could have come from the stimulants sold in the back room.

The interior was dark, lit mostly by flickering neon lights and cheap holographic porn projections that were supposed to add character to the place, but were more likely to accentuate its wear and tear. The bar, which stretched along one of the walls, looked like it was made from the remains of spaceships. The tabletop was scratched and full of dents, and alcohol stains formed abstract patterns. Behind the bar stood a woman with light, almost white hair, dressed in a leather corset and pants. She looked more like a warrior than a bartender, and her gaze could pierce through.

In the center of the room stood low tables surrounded by couches and armchairs that remembered better times. Their upholstery was frayed and springs protruded in several places. In the corner of the room was a stage on which several dancers - human and android - moved to the rhythm of pulsating music. Their costumes glittered in the spotlight, and their movements were perfect, almost hypnotic.

On the first floor there was a mezzanine floor, which was reached by a narrow metal staircase. From time to time, customers accompanied by men and women descended from the top and disappeared behind one of the many doors. The red curtains hanging from the balustrade tried to add a luxurious touch, but they looked dirty and dusty.

Astra looked at everything with evident distaste.

- This is ... disgusting," she said, looking at the scene and the customers laughing loudly.

Alex shrugged his shoulders, as if the place was an ordinary point on the map for him.

- Maybe so, but here you will find everything you need. For the right price.

Astra raised an eyebrow, looking at him with disapproval.

- I don't need it, much less intend to look for it?

Alex looked at her with a mocking smile.

- It will probably find you," he chuckled, pointing to a vacant table in the corner. - Sit down here. I'll find Tork.

- And what should I do? - She asked, looking at him with challenge.

- Pretend you fit in here," Alex replied, disappearing into the crowd.

He moved deeper into the room, squeezing between tables and groups of people who seemed completely oblivious to the chaos they were creating around them. The sounds of laughter, shouting and pulsating music merged into a deafening cacophony that resembled life in Red Harbor - brutal, chaotic, but fascinating in its own way.

Regulars at the "Desert Wolf" measured him with their eyes, assessing every detail of his stature and clothing, as if weighing whether he posed a threat or an opportunity for easy money. One man with a square jaw and a neck covered with tattoos raised his eyebrows, but Alex didn't even look in his direction.

At this time, Astra took a seat on one of the low, shabby armchairs. As she sat down, the piece of furniture let out a protracted groan, as if protesting another load. She looked around, trying not to look too interested, although everything she saw seemed to be screaming for attention.

The room resembled a theater of the grotesque - the walls, although intended to be metal, were almost black from dirt, covered with graffiti that depicted abstract shapes and sickening jokes. There was thick smoke in the air with the smell of tobacco and something more chemical, which irritated the nostrils and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. The lights changed colors in an unpredictable rhythm, casting flashes of red, purple and green on the walls and faces of customers.

On the stage in the center of the room, an android with shiny chrome skin performed acrobatic moves on a pole, its perfectly synchronized body reflecting light that danced across the room. Dancers, dressed in skimpy outfits adorned with glittering sequins, moved to the beat of the music, attracting the attention of drunken customers.

In the depths of the room, Astra noticed a group of men playing Star Poker. Tension was painted on their faces, and their hands squeezed the cards with such force as if their lives depended on them . One of them, a typical trader in a dirty coat and wide-brimmed hat, looked as if he was balancing between winning and bankruptcy.

Her gaze traveled to the first floor, where a metal staircase led to a mezzanine. Every so often, someone would descend with a companion or companion, and a red door would close behind them, hiding the secrets of the place. Astra felt an unpleasant shudder, but couldn't take her eyes off the spectacle - it was repulsive and mesmerizing at the same time.

She was in a place that resembled a caricature of everything she knew about humanity - its highest lusts and lowest instincts combined in one cramped, stuffy room. She wasn't sure whether she felt more fascinated or disgusted.

Alex, meanwhile, squeezed between tables, stopping at anyone who looked like they might know Tork. His demeanor was nonchalant, and his confidence radiated from him so clearly that most people answered his questions by pointing in his direction with their fingers before they had time to think about whether they should.

He finally spotted Tork, who was sitting in a dark corner of the room, stretched out in a chair with his legs stretched out in front of him. His massive body resembled an ill-shaped lump of clay, with a thick neck and a face that looked as if it had been carved with a hammer. Dark, narrow eyes looked downcast, and the twisted mouth looked as if it did not know a smile. On the countertop in front of him stood a bottle, the contents of which had almost run out.

Alex walked over, pulled out a chair and sat down opposite, leaning nonchalantly against the backrest.

- Tork," he said, looking at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Tork raised his eyes slowly, as if every second of the gesture meant something.

- Maybe. Depends on who you are? - He asked, in a voice snarled from the excess smoke and alcohol.

- Someone who has a case for you," Alex replied with a smile that was more of a challenge than a friendly gesture.

Tork squinted, his gaze wandering over Alex, assessing every detail.

- You'd better not waste my time," he muttered, lifting the bottle and drinking the last drops.

- Relax," chuckled Alex, leaning back more comfortably. - If all goes well, your time will be the best invested thing in this place.

- What do you want? - muttered Tork with a grimace on his face.

- Lorv sent me to remind you of a certain small debt," began Alex, resting his elbows on the table. His tone was calm, almost polite, but there was something sharp lurking in his gaze.

Tork picked up the bottle and took a long sip before setting it down with an exaggerated clatter. His movements were slow, as if he wanted to emphasize that he was in no hurry - neither to talk nor to give anything away.

- Lorv. Always Lorv," he muttered, dragging the words out as if each one was a burden to him. - Tell him he'll get his. In his own time.

Alex leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his entwined hands.

- You see, here's the problem," he said quietly, as if he was giving away a secret. - Your "time" passed about three weeks ago. And I'm not here to talk about its passing.

Tork measured him with his eyes, squinting, as if trying to make out how much danger lay behind this apparent nonchalance.

- And what will you do? - He asked with a shadow of challenge in his voice. - Will you break my hands? Will you spill my rum? Will you complain?

Alex raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. His smile was calm, but his eyes remained icy.

- I don't have to do anything," he replied. - All I have to do is go back to Lorv and tell him that your delivery is a lost cause. Then I will return again. And you probably know very well what is done to people who "do not pay their obligations ".

Tork straightened up slightly, as if trying to show that he was unimpressed, but his hands tightened on the bottle, betraying something else.

- Lorv... - began, but fell silent, as if searching for the right words. After a moment, he twisted his lips in a grimace resembling a smile. - All right, all right. There's no point in dragging this out. I've got what's coming to him. In the storeroom behind the bar.

Alex nodded, but did not move from his seat.

- Good decision. But let me warn you: if anything is missing there, I'll be back. And then there will be no such charming conversation.

Tork raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his gaze shifting to something like resignation.

- Everything is there.

Alex stood up slowly, straightening up so that he towered over Tork.

- I believe we understand each other well.

He turned and headed toward Astra, who was still sitting at the table, playing with the glass in her hands. It was clear from her posture that she felt the stares of several men from across the room on her, but she tried to ignore it.

- What now? - She asked, raising an eyebrow as Alex approached her.

- Now let's go get what belongs to Lorv," he chuckled, pointing with his head to the door leading to the back room. - And let's hope Tork isn't foolish enough to try to combine.

Astra stood up, glancing at Alex, as if trying to assess whether she really believed her words.

- What if it is?

Alex smiled slightly, but his voice was cold when he answered.

- Then we will find out how stupid he really is.

Together they moved toward the door. Astra felt a cool shudder when her gaze met Tork, who sat with a grim face, staring at the empty bottle. She felt that the evening had a few more surprises in store.

The door to the back room was narrow, rusty on its hinges and covered with countless scratches, as if someone had repeatedly tried to open it by force or vent their frustration on it. Alex pushed them open slowly, quietly, like a professional thief entering a room full of sleeping guards. The metal groan of the hinges reverberated off the walls, and he stopped, listening.

Inside, the back room was cold and damp. Flickering led lights cast a faint, grayish light that seemed to swallow all colors. Tall shelves formed narrow corridors full of crates, barrels and scattered tools. The air was heavy, suffused with the smell of oil and metal, with a hint of something chemical that Astra immediately categorized as "life-threatening."

- Here is the interior wolf in all its glory," muttered Alex, glancing over his shoulder at Astra. - A mess even in the warehouse.

Astra looked around, trying to hide her anxiety.

- What if Tork had set us up after all?

Alex shrugged his shoulders, his movement was calm, almost dismissive, but his eyes were closely sweeping every corner of the room.

- If he is actually an idiot," he replied quietly. - And he'll set me up, then Lorv will make sure he doesn't live to see another sunrise.

He moved deeper into the warehouse, his footsteps echoing deafeningly off the concrete floor. Finally, he stopped at a large crate marked with a faded logo that Astra didn't recognize.

- This must be it," he said, lifting the lid gently. Inside were metal cylinders, resembling containers for construction materials.

Astra came closer, looking at the contents of the box.

- It looks like we got what we came for.

- It looks," admitted Alex, closing the box. - But something smells here.

- This magazine? - chuckled Astra with an ironic smile, trying to mask her growing anxiety.

Alex looked around, his face tense.

- No one is guarding the goods," he explained, glancing at the door. - Tork was too eager to cooperate. And in places like this, nothing is easy.

As if to confirm his words, the door to the back room opened with a bang. Three men stepped inside, their silhouettes cut off against the bright light from the main hall. They all wore leather jackets decorated with emblems depicting a stylized skull with two crossed swords.

The main one, tall and thin with a scar on his cheek, stood in the middle of the room, and his smile was devoid of a shadow of friendliness.

- Well, look who we have here? - he spoke up, in a voice that resembled a creaking door. - Two tourists visiting our area.

Alex straightened up, his posture became stiff, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

- And yet it's a debacle. Tork's friends, right? - He asked in a tone as if he were talking to a neighbor who had just brought him sugar.

- Tork is not just your debtor," replied the scarred man, pulling an obsolete pistol from his holster. - And we hate it when someone sticks his nose into our business.

Astra took a step back, but Alex raised his hand in a reassuring gesture.

- Calm down, gentlemen," he said, slowly raising his hands in a defensive gesture. - We don't want problems. We only came for what belongs to Lorv. The rest is yours.

The other man, a stocky man with a thick beard, laughed ochrily.

- Lorv? What do I care what Lorv wants? You are on our territory, and that means you have to pay the entrance fee.

Alex glanced out of the corner of his eye at Astra, noticing her hand approaching her hip, where she had a hidden stun gun.

- All right," he said calmly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small pouch. - How much for this chest?

The man with the scar took a step forward, and his smile turned into a grimace of triumph.

- Everything you have. And the ship on which the lovely woman arrived.

Alex looked at him and then at the pouch he held in his hand.

- I understand," he said with apparent resignation. - Well, it's time to negotiate.

Before he could finish his sentence, he threw the pouch toward the leader in a swift motion, and at the same moment he dashed toward the bookcase, pulling out a knife hidden in his sleeve. Astra, seeing Alex's movement, pressed the button on the stun gun, aiming at one of the men.

The room exploded with noise - the rumble of overturning crates, the rustling of drawn weapons and the muffled screams of men. Astra reacted instinctively. She aimed the stun gun at the second attacker and squeezed the trigger. A blue spark shot out, hitting the man in the chest. The attacker's body jerked in a spasmodic twitch, and he collapsed to the ground, hitting his head on the concrete with a deafening clatter.

Alex, with cold composure, clashed with the gang leader. The scarred man swung his obsolete pistol, trying to use it more like a mace than a firearm, but Alex dodged with the precision of a veteran. His fist hit his opponent right in the ribs - the sound was deafening, as if he had hit wood. He bent in half, releasing the weapon from his hand.

- You should choose your friends better," chuckled Alex, before grabbing him by the jacket and throwing him onto a pile of metal crates. The noise of clanging metal filled the warehouse, and the assailant was immobilized under the weight of his own arrogance.

The third man, seeing that the situation was taking a wrong turn, threw himself into a run. Astra noticed his movement out of the corner of her eye and held out her hand with a stun gun, but Alex raised his hand in a stop gesture.

- There's no point," he said with cool composure. - He is not running away from the will to fight, but from fear.

The man disappeared behind the door, and the echo of his footsteps quickly receded. Astra looked at Alex, who was adjusting his jacket as if he had just finished a routine job.

- I told you something was wrong here," he muttered, glancing at the unconscious gang leader lying at his feet.

Astra, still with the stun gun in her hand, tried to calm her accelerated breathing.

- Maybe next time we can solve this more diplomatically? - she said, trying to sound ironic, although there was a note of panic in her voice.

Alex smiled slightly, his gaze was like steel.

- There is no "diplomacy" in Red Harbor. The place is one big ambush.

He walked over to the crate they were about to take and lifted the lid to make sure the cargo was intact. The metal cylinders inside looked exactly as Lorv had described. Alex closed the crate with a bang and looked at Astra.

- We're taking it and getting out of here before someone comes to check what's going on here.

He began transferring the boxes to the vehicle. The weight of the cylinders combined with the rush made every step a struggle against time. Alex hoisted the last crate onto the "Old Guard" platform. His shoulders were tense and drops of sweat ran down his temples, but he still had a fierce, defiant smile on his face.

Astra stood next to the vehicle, holding a stun gun, her gaze shifting every now and then between the warehouse and the empty space of the port.

- Do you think they will find us? - She asked, clearly concerned.

- Do not worry, Princess," replied Alex, firing up the engine of the "Old Guard". - If they even look for us, they will only find dust.

The engine roared and the vehicle took off, leaving tire tracks in the red sand behind. Alex knew, however, that Red Harbor does not forget so easily.

The vehicle flashed through the crowded streets of Red Harbor, throwing up clouds of red dust behind it, which settled on everything from the stalls of traders to the faces of children playing by the roadside. Loud shouts and curses echoed as the "Old Guard" dodged obstacles with a skill and nonchalance that could only be expected from Alex. Astra clung tightly to the handle above the door, feeling each sudden turn, each unevenness, as if they were a personal attack on her balance.

- Couldn't we have taken a simpler route? - She asked in exasperation, glancing at Alex, who looked like he was having more fun than he should have been.

Alex threw her a quick, amused glance.

- A straighter road? In Red Harbor? - he chuckled with a wince. - Princess, here you choose between holes and deeper holes. Straight is only the trouble makers who always find you first.

As they turned into a narrower alley, Astra could have sworn she saw a man with a cigarette of purple smoke waving his penis at them with something between irritation and fascination. "Old Guard," she growled, jumping over another bump, which elicited a groan of displeasure from the seat.

Eventually, the chaos of the harbor streets gave way to a wider route. The road, though still riddled with potholes and covered in dust, seemed almost luxurious compared to what they had left behind. Astra breathed deeply, loosening the fingers clenched on the handle.

- Take a breath, princess," chuckled Alex, wiping his hand on his pants. - Just remember that when Red Harbor gives you something, it will always insist on a return later.

Astra sank back against the backrest, watching the residential part of the city slowly fade into the side mirror. Tumans of dust floated in the air, merging with the setting sun, which dyed everything a red-gold hue.

- Red Harbor," she muttered with a slight wince. - A place that should be marked with a big sign that says "Never come back."

Alex laughed, his laugh was light, almost sincere, but his eyes remained alert, glancing in the mirrors every now and then.

- You see, that's why you don't belong here," he said, smiling at the corner of his mouth, "The people who live here never want to escape. They simply have no choice.

The road to Lorva's warehouse was, surrounded by the familiar formations of warehouses and fields of red bushes that looked like they were reaching out their tentacles to them. Alex drove confidently, with his hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel, but Astra noticed that he glanced at the mirrors every now and then, as if he expected something or someone to be following them.

- Do you think Lorv will be satisfied? - She asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

Alex shrugged his shoulders, his smile slightly cynical.

- Lorv is never in satisfaction. But he gets what he wanted. And that's enough for him.

Astra fell silent, looking at the landscape around them. Warehouses and bushes gave way to familiar shapes - the metal structures of Lorva's dock emerged from the red dust, glistening in the light of the setting sun.

- Finally," muttered Alex, reducing speed and turning off the headlights.

Several people were standing in front of the hangar. Astra noticed Lorv, who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, with his hands in his pockets and a typically bored expression on his face. Beside him stood a thin man in a washed shirt, gesturing vigorously as if trying to explain something. In the background, several workers were moving heavy boxes onto transport vehicles.

- It looks like they have a good traffic," Astra noted, looking at the people in front of the warehouse.

He stopped the vehicle and sighed.

- Red Harbor never sleeps," he said, getting out of the cabin. - And its residents never do anything for free.

Alex approached Lorv with a relaxed step, but his posture betrayed alertness as if every moment could turn into something better avoided. Lorv stood leaning against one of the metal pillars of the warehouse, holding a cigarette whose smoke formed lazy spirals in the air. His face, covered with smudges of grease and dust, stretched in something that resembled a smile, though it looked more like a grimace forced by everyday cynicism.

- Do you have what it takes? - He asked, tossing the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it with a heavy shoe.

Alex pointed to a vehicle where crates of cargo were neatly fastened to a platform.

- Everything is correct," he replied, in a calm but firm voice. - The crates are on board. Tork and his boys will not trouble you again.

Lorv raised an eyebrow, his eyes, though tired, flashed something like approval.

- You can always be counted on, eh? - he chuckled, patting Alex on the shoulder with a force that could move mountains. - And now, as agreed, I will take care of your ship.

- And bourbon," Alex added, with a smile that was something between a challenge and a reminder.

Lorv rolled his eyes, shaking his head, as if he had just heard that he was to hand over his favorite weapon.

- Yes, yes, I've already taken care of that," he muttered, throwing the rag on a nearby table and moving toward the hangar.

Astra stood by, watching the exchange. Her gaze wandered between Alex and Lorv, as if she was trying to assess who of them had more to hide.

- Can we leave now? - She asked, stepping closer, her voice cool but sure.

Lorv stopped and looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

- Relax, princess," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. - It will be ready faster than you have time to drink what I brought Alex.

Astra furrowed her brow, but said nothing. Instead, she threw Alex a meaningful look that said: "This is your deal, so you'd better know what you're doing."

The suns of Halcyon were slowly sinking behind the horizon, coloring the sky a deep orange. The light reflected off the metal structures, giving them a golden glow that somewhat masked their wear and tear. The rumble of machinery came from the distance, and workers in the background were busy unloading other ships.

Lorv returned, wiping his hands in a rag that did more to spread dirt than clean anything. His face, though perpetually tired, expressed something like contentment.

- Done," he chuckled, pointing to a huge shape standing at the edge of the launch platform behind the warehouse.

Alex and Astra turned around at the same moment. "The Faithful Dog" stood in all its asymmetrical glory, its hull gleaming with fresh, if somewhat uneven, paint. Several searchlights in the hangar illuminated the ship, showing both the imperfections of its design and its crude functionality.

Astra squinted, looking at this marvel of technology and improvisation.

- This...surely flies? - she asked cautiously.

Alex laughed, patting Lorv on the shoulder.

- Lata, the princess. Probably in its own unique style.

Lorv, unable to contain his laughter, added:

- It doesn't just fly, it actually speeds. Sometimes it even lands.

Lorv pulled a flat, metallic disc with a rough surface from his pocket and handed it to Alex with a theatrical gesture, as if handing over a sacred artifact.

- Codes," he said, with satisfaction in his voice. - The latest ones I could get my hands on. With them you'll get through most of the controls. Maybe.

Alex accepted the disk, turning it in his hands, and smiled with evident satisfaction.

- Appreciation. - His tone was light, but you could see a shadow of suspicion in his gaze. - But if it turns out to be out-of-date crap, I'll come back and personally pack you on that ship in your fat ass.

Lorv parried with laughter, ignoring the threat.

- Trust me. If something goes wrong, you'll be the one with more to worry about rather than me.

He opened the ship's side ramp, which lowered with a groan and clatter, as if she herself was surprised it still worked. When they stepped inside, Astra immediately smelled a peculiar odor - a mixture of grease, metal and something resembling dust that hadn't seen a vacuum cleaner in decades.

The interior of the "Faithful Dog" surprised with its spaciousness, although it was more practical than luxurious.

The cockpit was located at the front of the ship. Two seats, covered in worn gray upholstery, looked barely holding together. The wide console was full of buttons, levers and screens, some of which flashed at random intervals, as if they had their own moods. The cockpit glass, large and panoramic, had a few scratches and smudges that Astra suspected were the work of sloppy repairs.

- There you go, almost a luxury," chuckled Alex, sitting down in the pilot's seat and testing its mechanism. The seat squeaked in protest.

The corridor leading from the cockpit to the rear of the ship was narrow, with exposed wires and pipes running along the walls. On either side were small panels behind which tools and spare parts were hidden. The walls were painted a faded shade of gray, but in places the paint was coming off, showing the metal structure.

- It's good to see that they didn't go overboard with the decorations," Astra noted with a wince.

Lorv opened one of the doors on the left side of the corridor, leading them into the warehouse. The room was cluttered with crates, barrels and tools scattered across the floor. On one of the racks stood a case of bourbon, which immediately caught Alex's attention.

- I knew you could be counted on, Lorv," he said, pulling out one of the bottles and floating it in the light.

- Just don't drink it all at once," chuckled Lorv, rolling his eyes. - It's for hard times, not for a party.

Further down were the cabins. Each was ascetic - a narrow bed attached to the wall, a locker for personal belongings and a small circular window that gave a view of the infinite blackness of space. Astra opened the door of one of them and looked around with a mixture of skepticism and fascination.

And when she opened the door to the bathroom, she found what could be described as "maximum functionality in minimum space," revealing a small, one-piece cubicle that looked more like a metal cage than a real bathroom. To the side, just inside the entrance, was a toilet - classic, but compact enough to be considered a tourist installation at the same time.

The whole thing was constructed of solid gray plastic, which seemed to be able to withstand the harshest treatment. Above the toilet was a one-piece washbasin built into the wall, surrounded by a couple of quick-cleaning tools, as if someone here really didn't have time to cram in luxury. A small circular mirror just above the sink showed a reflection that was somewhat distorted by the faded surface.

The most surprising part was the shower, which took up half the space in this claustrophobic cabin. Instead of a normal curtain, there was a telescopic system that, when a button was pressed, rolled into the wall, hiding the entire shower.

Everything was cramped, worn out and a bit worn, but functional - just like the rest of the ship.

- Not very cozy," she noted.

- You left the coziness at home," replied Alex, peering inside. - What matters here is that you have somewhere to lay your head.

Most impressive was the engine room, filled with a tangle of cables and pipes that crisscrossed like metal vines. It was dominated by massive drive cores, surrounded by pulsating blue lights. Astra stopped, looking at them in awe. What she saw resembled less a modern interstellar drive and more a forgotten technical experiment from years ago.

The cores, huge cylindrical units that filled almost all the space in the engine room with their enormity. They were plasma turbines designed for high-speed but also somewhat unstable travel to provide energy for long interstellar jumps. Each core was embedded in a sturdy titanium body.

The propulsion system operated on the principle of magnetic acceleration of plasma, sustained in stable electromagnetic fields. When the engines were running, you could see the cores begin to glow red, and the heat they generated seeped through the deck. They extracted a tremendous amount of energy, though not without a price - the cores were perpetually charged, and their explosion, though rare, would be the end of any journey. All this made the "Faithful Dog" propulsion system efficient, but fraught with risk.

The area around the cores was in semi-darkness, illuminated only by alternating pulsating blue and red lights that gave the whole thing an almost mystical appearance. There was a smell of metal and light ozone in the air, as if the air in the engine room lived with its own disturbing rhythm. Astra felt her heart speed up, knowing that the technology that would take them to Earth was just on the verge of what could be called stable propulsion.

- It looks like the heart of a ship before a heart attack," she said quietly.

- And so it is," confirmed Lorv. - As long as it beats, the ship lives.

After a brief tour, they returned to the cockpit, after which Lorv left the ship. He approached the massive hangar doors, which looked as if they had been closed for years. With a heavy creak, he pulled out a steel manual mechanism. He pulled it with all his strength, and the metal band began to move the gates deeper into the wall. The crunch of metal and distinctive sounds came out, echoing through the empty hangar space. When the gates finally gave way, a huge, shadow-filled entrance opened before them. The wind, carrying with it particles of sand and dust from the desert surroundings, flowed in, creating a hazy atmosphere that surrounded the entire scene.

Alex sat in the pilot's seat, inserted a flat disk with codes into one of the console's ports and booted the system.

- Well, Faithful Dog," he muttered to himself, pressing a few buttons. - Show what you can do.

The ship's engines began to run, at first making a low murmur that grew louder and more even with each passing moment. Astra looked through the windshield at the Red Harbor landscape, which looked almost surreal in the glow of the setting sun.

- Ready to conquer the earth? - Alex asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

- Always," she replied with a slight smile.

The engines roared, and the "Faithful Dog" floated above the platform, ready for its first trip in a long time.