Mars Time: 08:14, February 18, 2295
Room 47, 4th floor, Prairie Commons, Eagle District, Xing Hong
The espresso machine hissed, steam curling through morning sunlight that streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows. Sigrun watched the rich brown liquid fill the white ceramic cup, the aroma sharp and clean. Real coffee beans, imported from Earth at $60 Atomic Dollars per hundred grams. She'd earned it.
She carried the cup to her dining table, where breakfast waited on white ceramic plates: scrambled eggs with actual butter. Toast from bread baked in Eagle District's artisan bakery. A small bowl of fresh berries that cost more than most families spent on groceries in a week.
The overcrowded Martian city sprawled beyond her window. Somewhere out there, beneath the Karma Moor's desolate surface, a Zephyrium stone worth fifty thousand Atomic Dollars waited in a box.
Sigrun bit into the toast. The butter melted on her tongue, rich and smooth.
"Your loss, Dante." She said to herself but paused. She pushed away the memory of his disappointed face, the way he'd withdrawn his proposal like yanking back a business card. Marriage. Secretary position. As if she'd been auditioning for the role.
The silver blue Nucleus Watch sat charging on the table beside her laptop. She'd already checked the mission details three times this morning, but habit made her look again:
RETRIEVAL CONTRACT - URGENT
Target: High-Grade Zephyrium Cache (1 container, designation U6-M9)
Location: Red Rabbit Warren - Transport Sublevel 3
Entry Points: Karma Moor (CAUTION: Outside city limits!)
Reward: $50,000 AD
Fifty thousand. Added to her current $850,500, that'd put her at over nine hundred thousand. Most people on this depressing planet couldn't even earn that much in a lifetime. Still short of the Europa ticket price, but closer. Always closer.
She finished breakfast at last. The eggs were sufficient. The coffee was strong enough. None of it was pleasure to her, but prepared her just right. Quality fuel for quality work.
Mars Time: 09:02, February 18, 2295
The beige trench coat came off its hanger first, the ballistic weave settling familiar across her shoulders. Beneath it, her cobalt turtleneck hugged her torso, the high collar zipped up to protect her throat. Black pants, reinforced at the knees and thighs. Premium brand military boots that'd seen her through years of Martian wasteland, bought on the day she'd come to the planet with Ivar's credit chips.
[+ Equipped: Ballistic Trench Coat, Nordling fit, Inner Sol variant]
[+ Equipped: Víking Treads, combat boots, Nordling female fit, Mars Walker variant]
[+ Equipped: Ballistic Turtleneck, Valoran fit, Psi Lynx certified weave]
[+ Equipped Tactical Rigger Belt, Nordling female fit, Psi Lynx variant]
[+ Equipped: Combat Fatigues, Nordling female fit, Psi Lynx certified weave]
She checked Járn's thermal core—fully charged, the indicator light steady blue. The Damascus steel gleamed with fresh oil from last week's maintenance by Emmanuel, the Fusion Smith who set up shop over in Lion District. The one-handed axe fit her grip, and the weight felt right when she gave it a warm-up swing.
Skuld came next. The white Breacher unfolded from its brick configuration with satisfying mechanical clicks, each segment locking into place. The modified barrel extension, the tightened spread pattern, the golden filigree Emmanuel had added during one of their "alternative payment" sessions.
She checked the magazine: loaded, eight shells. Another three magazines went into her coat's interior pockets. Standard buckshot, nothing fancy. Against Fenris scums, fancy didn't matter. Volume of fire did.
The shotgun needed maintenance. She'd known it for two weeks, kept putting it off. The ejection mechanism had been sticking, and the trigger pull felt slightly gritty.
"Should've gone last week. Stupid me…" She scolded herself.
But fifty thousand Atomic Dollars would cover emergency repairs and then some. She'd visit Forge Zenith after claiming the bounty, get Skuld properly serviced.
Baldr remained on its mount above her desk, the Psytum Sword's hilt gleaming white and gold. She looked at it for a long moment.
Her hand didn't reach for it. Instead, she spoke to it like intimately. "I'm going out, Ivar. Will be back before dinner. Promise."
Járn went to her belt. Skuld slung across her back. Hamr stayed in her hair, her ivory hand reaching up with a pat to set it to half-up ponytail, practical for wearing helmet if ever needed.
Though she wasn't planning on wearing a helmet today. Surely not for a simple retrieval run, where her worst enemies would be clueless junior bounty hunters or seniors thinking they could beat or resist her.
[+ Equipped: Járn, Thermal Axe, one-handed, Nordling variant]
[+ Equipped: Skuld, Breacher Shotgun, custom Alliance frame]
[+ Engaged: Hamr, Programmable Hair Clip, Nordling variant. Configuration: 'Civilian' → 'Valkyrie']
She reached for her Nucleus Watch, unhooking it from the charger and fastening it to her left wrist. The screen flickered to life, toggled to 'Compact Mode':
[Name: Sigrun Fjeld] [Status: Healthy, Combat Ready]
The apartment door locked behind her with a solid click.
Mars Time: 09:47, February 18, 2295 The Karma Moor, 4.2km outside Xing Hong
The autocab dropped her at the designated coordinates, its VI voice polite and synthetic: "Safe travels, Subscriber #6969. Remember to rate your experience!"
Not even bothering to speak, Sigrun stepped onto rust-red soil, the Martian wind immediately tugging at her coat. The cab hummed away, leaving her alone in the wasteland.
The Karma Moor stretched in every direction: flat, barren, dotted with the skeletal remains of failed settlements, dead Radi-Mons, equally dead travelers, some half-eaten—and the ever-so-familiar sight of abandoned, non-functioning equipment. A collapsed cargo container lay half-buried in red dust.
"Alright, dirty Moory. I'm back. And you better behave today." She started walking, following the route her Watch displayed in augmented reality overlay. Three kilometers to Warren entrance #1. The sun beat down through Mars's thin artificial atmosphere, bright but not warm. Her Nucleus Watch chimed:
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
[Temperature reading: 4°C and climbing.]
By midday it'd hit maybe 12°C. Practically a heat wave for a Nordling like her.
Her boots crunched on rocky soil. The wind made her ponytail stream behind her, healthy well-groomed blonde against rust-red landscape.
[Scanning area...]
[Radi-Mon signatures detected: 5 contacts]
[Distance: 400 meters, closing] [Threat Assessment: Moderate]
Sigrun's hand moved to Skuld without much thought, unslinging the white shotgun and bringing it to low ready position.
The Bone Fiends came growling, their rotting exoskeletons smelling like overcooked toast. Four of them, moving with that distinctive jerking gait. Smaller than their Jupiter cousins, but Mars's lower gravity made them faster.
But there was something else.
A Kraken emerged last, floating from behind a collapsed cargo container, its cephalopod body rippling. Dark pink arms writhed through the dust, and its three orange-red eyes fixed on Sigrun. This one was young—only the size of a SUV—but its presence meant this pack facing her had coordination.
And a non-zero chance that, instead of killing, they'd try to abduct her to a nearby hive, like many Fenris Krakens did with women her age.
[Target Identified: Bone Fiend × 5, Kraken × 1]
[Bounty Value: $220 AD total] [Current Status: Solo Operation]
"Okay, cockroaches. Who's fucking up who today?" Sapphire eyes focused, shoulders tensing, she said, voice loud but steady.
The first Bone Fiend charged.
Skuld's gunshot echoed across the Moor as the creature's skull exploded in a spray of black liquid, some tainting the side of Sigrun's beige coat.
"Good dog!" She taunted as she ran forward.
[Confirmed Kills: 1]
The other three scattered immediately, pack instincts kicking in, zigzagging as they closed distance.
Smart enough to make themselves harder targets.
Sigrun tracked the second, led it, squeezed—
Click.
The ejection mechanism jammed, the spent shell caught halfway out. The Bone Fiend kept coming.
"Dritt—"
She dropped Skuld on its sling, no time to clear the jam. It'd usually clean itself after a minute dormant.
[Reminder: Weapon maintenance - Skuld requires cleaning]
Hand reaching inside her coat, her other weapon came free from her belt.
[+Weapon switched: Járn, Thermal Axe, one-handed, Nordling variant]
She triggered the thermal core—
Whump.
The blade ignited, edge glowing quantum-blue. Heat washed across her face as she stepped forward to meet the charge.
The Bone Fiend launched itself at her throat.
Sigrun pivoted, muscle memory. The creature sailed through empty space where she'd been standing. Járn came around in a tight arc, the thermal edge meeting exoskeleton with a sound like meat hitting a hot grill.
The Bone Fiend screamed as it got separated into cauterized halves that hit the ground smoking.
Three left, plus the Kraken hanging back and watching with disturbing intelligence. And then, it delivered the lines she'd grown tired of hearing.
'Primarch Skarn demands Sigrun Fjeld!'
She sighed. "Whatever."
Two Bone Fiends came at her together, trying to flank. Standard pack tactics—she'd seen it a hundred times.
She dropped low, letting the first sail overhead. Járn caught the second's legs mid-leap, the thermal blade shearing through bone and sinew. The creature crashed hard. She drove the axe down through its spine before it could recover, feeling the blade punch through.
The one that had jumped over her landed, spun. Sigrun was already running, but this one was faster than she'd calculated—
Claws raked across her turtleneck, ballistic weave absorbing most of the impact but not all. Sharp pain bloomed across her ribs as she twisted.
"Fuck—!" She raised her left hand in desperation.
The Bone Fiend pressed its advantage, jaw opening to show needle teeth. Centimeters from her throat.
"Frost, bylgja!"
The J?turmál spell came out clean amidst her racing heartbeat. Ice crystallized from her palm, catching the Bone Fiend mid-lunge. Its momentum carried it past her in a skating tumble, frozen solid.
Járn came down on its neck before it could thaw.
One Bone Fiend left. And the Kraken, still watching from twenty meters away, disgusting arms writhing through dust like it was testing the wind, its voice booming. Its beak clicked, then the J?turmál came out wet: "Veieimynstur: umkringja-áta! [Hunt-pattern: surround-devour!]"
Whatever it uttered, the real action was in how the last Bone Fiend didn't charge, but it circled at distance, red eyes tracking her movements. Looking for weakness.
The Kraken's three eyes glowed. Coordinating. Planning.
Sigrun's breath came steady despite the adrenaline, despite the pain in her ribs. Her blonde hair had come partially loose from its ponytail, strands falling across her face. Sweat traced down her temple, between her breasts beneath the ballistic-weave turtleneck. Her coat had dust on it. Her hands were steady on Járn's grip.
The Bone Fiend feinted left, drawing her attention—
The Kraken struck, arms lashing out faster than she'd expected, one wrapping around her ankle with crushing force. It yanked, trying to pull her off balance.
Sigrun went with the momentum instead of fighting it, using the pull to launch herself toward the Kraken. Járn came down in an overhead strike that would've made Ivar proud, the thermal blade meeting tentacle flesh.
The appendage severed with a spray of clear fluid. The Kraken shrieked, high and alien, recoiling.
The last Bone Fiend charged while she was off-balance.
No time for spells. No time to set her stance.
She grabbed Skuld with her off-hand, didn't even bring it to her shoulder. Just pointed from the hip and prayed the jam had cleared from the impact.
The trigger pull was gritty but functional. The Breacher's roar was beautiful, but the recoil hurt, her left arm feeling the sore.
The Bone Fiend went down hard, most of its skull missing.
The Kraken retreated, dragging its severed arm, orange eyes fixed on her with something that might've been respect. Or hunger. Hard to tell with Radi-Mons.
'Princess Sigrun must be located. Her eggs fertilized!' It slithered behind the collapsed cargo container and vanished.
"Just fuck off!" Sigrun lowered Skuld, breathing hard now. The shotgun's ejection port showed the jam had cleared—the impact from dropping it must've dislodged the stuck shell. Lucky.
But luck ran out. The weapon needed proper maintenance, and she'd been gambling with her life by delaying it.
"Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid…" She worked the action, chambering a fresh shell. The movement was gritty. Definitely needed Emmanuel's attention soon.
[Bounty Partially Complete: +$100 AD]
[Warning: Minor injuries detected. Consider medical attention.]
[Recommendation: Weapon maintenance required - Skuld malfunction detected]
"Yeah, I noticed." She spoke to her watch as she holstered Járn, its thermal core powering down with a soft hiss. The blade cooled from quantum-blue to Damascus steel again.
The Kraken was gone, probably reporting back to whatever Fenris nest had sent it. That was fine. She'd gotten the bounties.
Her ribs hurt. The shallow cuts weren't serious—ballistic weave had prevented deep penetration—but they'd need cleaning and a Medi-Vap shot.
She moved through the Bone Fiend corpses, her Watch scanning each for bounty confirmation. The quantum verification took a few seconds per body, cross-referencing DNA markers against the Atomic Accord's Radi-Mon database, then verifying with Xing Hong's local server.
[Bounty Payment Confirmed: +$100 AD] [Secondary Account Balance: $2,250 AD]
Warren entrance #1 was still two kilometers ahead. She'd cleared this immediate area, but there'd be more Radi-Mons between here and there. Always were.
Sigrun stopped walking, setting Skuld down carefully. The pain in her ribs was sharp but manageable—and easily fixed.
She pulled the Medi-Vap vaporizer from her coat's inner pocket. The sleek cylinder was half-full, the clear window showing the pale blue liquid inside. She pressed it to her lips and inhaled, the mint-and-metal taste familiar as the nanobots flooded her system.
The effect was immediate. The shallow cuts across her ribs began to close, tissue knitting back together with a slight tingling sensation. Not instant—maybe thirty seconds—but fast enough. The pain faded to a dull ache, then nothing.
Her Nucleus Watch beeped: [Healing Complete]
She checked the vaporizer's indicator: seventy percent remaining. Enough for maybe three more doses if she needed them today.
Next came the Indra-Sprite. The ornate bottle gleamed, the blue liquid inside swirling with faint luminescence. She took a measured sip—not the premium quality draught she'd had last night, just enough to top off her reserves. The sweet taste of mangosteen and blue durian filled her mouth.
Warmth spread through her chest as her Aether reserves climbed.
She capped the bottle and tucked it back into her coat. The Indra-Sprite was down to maybe a third. Both would need refilling when she visited Doctor Nikki next—probably tonight or in a few days, depending on how today went.
Sigrun picked up Skuld, checked the action one more time and started walking again. Her hand then moved to Járn's hilt, muscle memory holding as she reviewed all the techniques she knew in her mind, breathing slowly.
The bounty today still would not be enough to buy a ticket to Europa, but enough to survive another month or two.
The Warren entrance was close now. Her weapons were ready, her body was healed, and she had something new that would make claiming that fifty-thousand-dollar bounty much easier.
Somehow, she wondered if that engineer, Xin, would show up. Probably would. He'd seemed determined despite being clearly out of his depth. His little Diabolisk had been cute, at least.
The wind tugged at her coat, golden hair streaming behind her.
She didn't need bonds. She needed money. And right now, that meant reaching the Warren before anyone else claimed her prize. Everything else could wait.
Sigrun smiled, just slightly. "But everything in my way, I'll kill."
Cambion’s Awakening
[A Lite-RPG Progression Fantasy Romance]
Orphaned at six years old, Projo was raised as a blacksmith’s apprentice. Strange occurrences growing up led him to believe he may be cursed, until a reckless act of heroism nearly kills him and he discovers he may be half demon.
Cambion’s Awakening is a Progression Fantasy adventure with a unique magic system. Come with Projo as he learns to control his abilities, discovers the dark secrets behind them, and achieves it all through love and violence.
