They’re called the three galaxies, or the three sectors. Three clusters of worlds separated by the time it takes to travel to them and the nature of that reality’s version of Earth. Sector one worlds are comparable to Earth. Sector two worlds are each slightly odd in their own unique way. Sector 3 worlds are furthest away and the most alien. It’s curious that while we have found exotic ecosystems on each of these worlds, with lush plant life and animals, none of them has any trace of advanced sentient life. Perhaps humanity truly is alone in the universe.

-Excerpt from Erodotos’ compendium

Chapter 3 - Haloke

Haloke’s head was spinning. A ringing in her ears that clouded her senses. But she struggled back to her feet anyway. That’s how you win. Always get back up.

The once seemingly impenetrable gate was free of its hinges and the beast was down. Haloke used the smoke and chaos to her advantage and darted through the opening. She stumbled upon a squad of guards. Dead, crushed under the gate. She grabbed one of their assault rifles and continued to barrel down the tunnel. The blast had knocked out the power, but she knew it was only temporary. If she was quick, she might be able to find something, anything, about where her brother Wayra was.

She was about to round a corner when she stopped.

There it was again, the instinct. That gut feeling that had kept her alive a dozen times when she should have been dead. She thought about how the beast had snuck up on her. A pity she couldn’t control when it kicked in.

Haloke sent a grenade around the corner in her stead.

She brought her gun to bear just as the blast went off. The three soldiers who weren’t killed immediately were felled swiftly by her fast reflexes with the rifle. Quick, clean kills. Just the way she preferred.

The emergency power kicked in, basking the room in a red glow. She kicked down a door and found herself in the caldera proper. Red light basked the hollow in a fiery glow, creating the impression of the volcano coming back to life. What little moonlight managed to break through the rim of the structure wasn’t enough. It seemed as if she’d descended into hell itself.

She would do all that and more to save Wayra.

Unfortunately, she’d walked right into a firing line. Twelve soldiers, all lined up. Their rifle trained on the door Haloke had so confidently kicked in. The soldiers hesitated for a moment and that was all the time fate needed to intervene.

Something crashed through the doors behind haloke, taking out a large chunk of rock and sending her flying over the soldiers in one swift action. Her breath was knocked from her chest, and she hadn’t fully recovered from the first two falls. She wasn’t so lucky with the landing this time.

Her arm hit the ground first and she crashed down on top of it with her full weight. She heard the snap before she felt it.

Her arm was broken.

She’d deal with it later. Her nemesis, the majestic blue and white feline with the power of Zeus, was watching her. The upper half of a corporate soldier in its maw. The rest of the first responders were scattered or dead.

But more would arrive. She was hurt, and now her furry friend had shown up again. Haloke knew it was a lost cause. This was not the time or place for this battle.

Luckily, her grappling hook was attached to her good arm, her left. She sprinted towards the opening in the centre of the formation, eyeing the perfect place for her hook. She'd only have one chance at this. It seemed she was telling herself that more and more often. The familiar snarl of the creature indicated it was still pursuing her. She pressed the button on her glove and the hook was sent on its way, springing forth with a soft hiss.

A distant tink confirmed her aim. The line tautened, then reeled her in. The harnesses under her armpits and thighs helped distribute the force of the rapid acceleration.She was free, or so she thought.

Three claws cut into her back. Her cry of pain and fury was as scarlet as the scene itself. Her limp form hit the deactivated turret she’d used as a grapple point and she was sent flying down the opposite side of the rock formation. She was careful to protect her weak arm as she hit the ground hard and began tumbling down the slope. A collision with yet another tree stopped her rapid descent.

*

It was the sound of a voice that woke her. A young woman.

“No, she’s definitely not a corpo… Yeah, Maybe. It will be at the front entrance. Tell... Wait, I have to go, she’s waking up.”

Haloke opened her eyes and immediately shut it as morning light blinded her. Her shirt was gone, a heavy jacket draped over her instead. She could feel heavy bandages around her torso. Her right arm was tightly bound and in a sling, she smelled the familiar sharp and minty tang of med-gel.

She tested her limbs, her left arm was retained, tied to a tree perhaps. Without opening her eyes she tried to activate her Instinct. That heightened sense of space and time. It never came. It rarely did.

She grunted in frustration.

“I’m Torhild!” The stranger’s voice was warm and friendly. The opposite of Haloke’s rasp. Her throat had never quite recovered from the burn. That fire had seemed to consume everything. That was the night they had taken Wayra.

“Cut me free,” Haloke opened her eyes. Torhild was perhaps slightly younger than her twenty-two years. At a glance, she could tell that she had grown up on Tefnut. Her clothes were camouflaged to match the white-brown of the Ashland Plains. She had a well-worn leather pouch of supplies. A large knife was the only weapon she could spot.

“You’re not a prisoner. I Just wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up and kill me in your angry haste. You attacked that stronghold on your own and made it out alive? You're one crazy bitch.” Torhild strode forth and cut her bonds in one swift flick of her blade. She effortlessly sheathed it back into the holster on her lower back and held an arm out to Haloke. She accepted the help and was pulled to her feet.

“This tattoo. I recognise it,” Torhild said, not letting go of her arm, but observing the rune on her wrist. “I’ve got one similar.” Torhild turned and parted her dark hair, revealing a similar marking on her nape. Hers in the rough approximation of a snake.

“It’s a symbol. To never surrender to the corporations. You’re one of us, aren’t you? A Taipan.”

“A what?”

“Hmm..” Torhild frowned.

Haloke’s head ached. Breaking a bone always made her feel nauseous. The gel would help her heal, but she’d need rest for a few days. “How did you find me?”

They both turned as a scout shuttle whirred in the distance. A small aircraft capable of hovering that was used for short-range expeditions and could hold just a few people.

“Not here. We’ll be safer back at base. It’s a day's journey on foot. Can you make it?”

But Torhild was already taking off out of the small clearing. Haloke noticed her supplies were neatly tied together. She was relieved to see her Hachiman railgun hadn’t been lost. She shouldered the pack and made to follow her new acquaintance.

Off through the Ashland Plains, to who knows where. She looked back at the smaller volcano and made a silent vow to come back. Something was going on here. She felt it in her bones. This was a minor setback, but she was far from out of the fight just yet.

This was just the beginning.