As long as she controlled her actions, she was free.

  The mantra repeated in her head as Mara splashed through puddles from the previous night's storm, ice-cold water soaking her worn shoes. She had chosen to ignore her alarm and definitely hadn't slept through it, though reaching her quota today would be brutal either way.

  Tobias just didn't accept excuses, especially not hers, but her head had really been hurting ever since she awoke, which wasn't usual for her.

  She continued running and rounded the corner. This wasn't an alley she'd come down at night, too many stabbings for her taste, but during the day? It was home to five drunk men, passed out against the rusting metal wall of the bar, reeking of booze.

  At least the drunks didn't appear to have knives this time, as that was a mistake she only made once, and the scar on her leg was an ever-present reminder of that.

  The colony's usual smog gave a yellow haze to everything and almost seemed more vivid than yesterday. Everyone had to have some sort of lung disease here, right? Like, there's no way breathing this in was good for you.

  Almost near the exit, the smell of fresh bread—not that synthetic shit—wafted from her destination and twisted her empty stomach. When had she eaten last? Yesterday morning?

  Tobias' rule was simple: complete the quota and get food, otherwise don't eat for five days. There were other rules, like don't look him directly in the eyes, but those were less relevant as they were all related to interacting with him directly. Also, insecurity much?

  When she burst from the alley, sunlight stung her eyes, and she found the street bustling with colonists. The magistrate's unexpected tax return yesterday had everyone flush with credits—well, everyone but her.

  Lumbering steps caused her heart to catch. The bipedal cargo-mech split the wave of people as it made its way down the road, and the automaton's conical head bounced in tune with its oversized feet. She shivered. Stupid mechs and their creepy cone-heads.

  Almost seven years ago, when she was eight, one of the dumb things almost squished her. She had tried to bang on its leg repeatedly after getting knocked over, and the only reason she hadn't been turned into Mara-slop was because a passerby pulled her away at the last moment.

  For all she cared, someone could use them for target practice, and she'd gladly join in.

  Mara leaned against a nearby building; the mechanical shop's sun-warmed wall made for a good starting point, and her eyes scanned the crowd for her first mark.

  There was a well-dressed woman, oblivious, but could likely afford newer, more secure tech. A sketchy man, with his hands in his pockets and would probably stab her. And finally, a bearded guy, datapad swinging from his belt—gotcha. The pad was older, maybe a model II-C? Easy skim with that software flaw.

  She pushed off the wall and melted into the flow of people, tailing her target. Street vendors lined both sides of the road, hawking their wares. The voices blurred together, but a few cut through.

  "Real meat! Imported directly from a mid-world farm."

  "Cheap tickets to Lunis! Only 7500 credits. See the brilliant megacity for yourself."

  "Protect your business in these troubling times! Our security plans start at only 9500 credits per month."

  The bearded guy finally stopped at a vendor. Mobile holo-emitters and other assorted tech items cluttered the table, small tracking tags present on them. He and the seller debated whether the Mark D-03 was worth upgrading from the last-gen emitter.

  In her opinion, not that she would share it, it wasn't.

  Mara slid her credit skimmer out of her pocket. Small and unassuming, she'd repurposed an old datapad years ago. Inching her way toward the man, she moved within arm’s reach before pressing the single button on the device, which vibrated once and began its task.

  She feigned interest in a demo holo-vid being shown nearby until the skimmer buzzed a second time, twenty seconds later, signaling the fifteen-credit minimum had been reached. Perfect, throw enough credit transfer requests at weak security and some of them were bound to go through.

  She slipped into the crowd before the bearded man could react.

  Someone’s elbow almost clocked her in the head as she made her way to the next spot. Typical, nobody ever looked out for kids, especially ones dressed in rags. Her height didn’t help, and she was still waiting for that growth spurt everyone talked about—calling her vertically challenged was an understatement.

  "Out of the way!" A man shoved her to the side as if she were a piece of furniture.

  Heat spiked within, and her fists clenched. She wanted to hurt him. Not shove back. Hurt. Plaster him across the building. Flashes of his body splattered against the wall filled her vision. His face, set in a silent howl.

  She stumbled, suddenly dizzy, catching herself on a railing. Her stomach lurched. What the hell was that? She'd been angry before, but wanting to tear someone apart? Those were hallucinations, right?

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  She pulled her hand away from the railing and found it crumpled.

  Had it always been that way?

  A glimpse of a blue-and-white shoulder pad stopped her thoughts in their tracks.

  She ducked into a nearby store, as two P-Sec officers, their plasteel armour shining in the sun, jogged in the same direction as the man who had shoved her. Their visorless helmets left no hint of their identities. Just faceless entities.

  "Public security, make way," one officer said.

  The crowd dispersed around P-Sec, and the two officers continued their chase.

  "Excuse me, but if you’re not buying anything, I’ll need to ask you to leave," a voice said from behind her.

  Mara turned and found a well-dressed store employee staring at her. The amount of cologne he wore could probably feed her for a week.

  "Sorry, just needed a breather from the crowd," Mara said. "I’ll be leaving."

  "Please see that you do."

  Message received. She was bad for their image. The scent of perfume and clean air circulated throughout the space, and fancy clothing lined its shelves, and was no place for her. What was the point of arguing? It would only draw unnecessary attention.

  A quick double-check of the street found that the P-Sec officers were gone. They likely caught up with that asshole who shoved her and hopefully wouldn’t be coming back this way. Wonder what he did?

  Also, wasn't she forgetting something? Maybe it would come to her later.

  The rest of the afternoon found Mara repeating her task multiple times. After her last skim, a mousey-looking woman in a rush, she'd reached her quota of one hundred and fifty credits, with only fifteen minutes to spare. She went to the rendezvous point and her least favourite person—next to Tobias—was waiting for her.

  "Almost didn't make it today, rat," Reina said.

  The ugly woman was Tobias' second-in-command and looked like she'd been through a meat grinder.

  Mara inserted an empty credit chit into her skimmer. "Yeah, well, I did. Transferring them over now." She flicked the grey square to Reina when the device finished.

  "Better not be skimping on us, you know what happened last time." The woman's unscarred eye gleamed. "Tobias won't give you a second chance next time, and I'll gladly watch that."

  "It's all there."

  "Good, someone will drop your nutrient paste off at your little nest later."

  "Better be the normal amount this time, as I need to eat to work, you know."

  Reina scowled. "You get what you get. Keep complaining and see what happens."

  Mara just walked away. The less interaction with the witch, the better, and the women had more important things to do than chase Mara down for slighting her.

  The thing is, she had been siphoning credits from her daily work for the past few months now. Was it stupid? Yes, but she wanted out, wanted control over her life, wanted something, anything else.

  And she was close.

  A few more weeks and she'd have enough. Maybe she'd try to stowaway on a ship and bribe the captain if she got caught? And if no one found her, great, the credits could go towards food, even real stuff, wherever she ended up.

  It'd also give her the chance to do something she'd always wanted to: fly on a ship. There wasn't much to do in the colony, if Hemura even counted as one, and so watching ship launches had become a common pastime for her.

  Just watching the ships take off, and their engine trails becoming another star in the sky, made her feel oddly small, like there was so much more out there.

  It was also how she'd spend the rest of her day.

  She was about to head toward the port when her datapad let out a ping.

  A summons to the warehouse? What could Tobias possibly want with her, or was this some sort of group announcement?

  The message mentioned arriving once the sun had set, which gave her a few hours. So much for ship-watching today, as she didn't need those memories tainted by whatever came after. Maybe she'd try to skim some extra credits for her stash before heading over.

  Mara couldn't help the buildup of dread that had started in her stomach. As she thought more over the past hour, Tobias didn't just call people to talk, especially any of his street rats.

  Why was she summoned then? Did he find out about her credit stash? She could try running now, but wasn't ready yet, and he'd likely had a tail put on her as well, in the event she tried getting away.

  The warehouse that Tobias had made into his base came into view. Dilapidated and nondescript, the building hardly stood out among its peers.

  Amber streetlights flickered as she approached the main entrance. She knocked the secret code, and the door creaked open slightly.

  "Business?" a voice said.

  "Here to see Tobias. Can tell him it's Mara," she said.

  The man chuckled. "Oh, he's expecting you alright."

  He opened the door and locked it behind her after she had entered the building. There was no turning back now. She hadn't been here in sometime, and aside from a few more crates, stolen no doubt, nothing had changed.

  Mara followed the guard to the main open section of the warehouse where groups of gang members stood around, likely waiting for their next orders.

  There stood Tobias, with the witch standing next to him, of course. The tall, dark-haired man—unlike his second-in-command—could actually be described as attractive.

  Mara approached the pair.

  A resounding slap echoed, and the impact threw her against the wall. Pain shot through her body, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

  Mara could only watch as Tobias now approached her, wiping his hand as if he were trying to clean it after touching something disgusting.

  "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" Tobias said. "That I didn't know you were keeping credits for yourself? What's my one single rule, my one and only requirement?"

  That all credits were his, as payment for his protection, but she would not give him the satisfaction by answering. Never mind, the idiot didn't have only a single rule.

  Tobias brought out the dagger he kept on his waist and flipped it once. "You know I have a reputation to uphold. What would happen if the other rats got ideas?"

  Mara defiantly stared him down, but knew tears stained her cheeks. The pain in her jaw radiated from where he had hit her.

  Tobias grabbed her shirt collar, lifting her to eye level. “You know,” he whispered. "You were always one of my favourites, but rules are rules."

  He plunged his dagger into her gut. She screamed, and something shifted within her. A pulse of energy threw her back into a crate behind her.

  She forced herself to look up, and Tobias had dropped into a low combat stance, and a flicker of blue glowed around him.

  "What have you done?" Tobias asked.

  Pain surged through her mind, as if the knife had been driven into her skull instead. Her stomach turned, and she almost retched as the agony became unbearable. Why?

  CONSUME

  The word tore into her mind. Something wanted out, and its claws dragged at the edge of her consciousness, while echoed screams rang in her ears. Her vision became blurry.

  Tobias pulled out his gun as time slowed, and he shouted something at her, but she could only hear the screams. The endless, otherworldly, inhuman shrieks.

  Fear etched across his face as if he were staring at a monster.

  Her world went dark.