The plastic-wrapped stick snapped between Cass’s fingers with a satisfying pop. Bending yet refusing to tear, it folded back into its original, straight shape the moment she relented. It gradually turned wholesomely warm in her grasp while she, almost impatiently, stuffed the tip in between her pale lips and dragged in a deep breath through the chem-cigarette’s filter. After holding it in for a second or two, she exhaled a puff of orange-red, synthetic smoke into the high-roofed ceiling above them, from which bizarrely-shaped designer lamps dangled or floated to cast their hot twilight upon the interior of the bar.

With a tap on the designated spot on the table, she brought up a holographic menu from which to make an order. Knowing that Vin had offered to pick up the tab before they entered – and which was the sole reason she had agreed to enter this dive in the first place – she felt little hesitation in browsing the pricier list of cocktails. It occurred to her that she was woefully unknowledgeable on their subject, never having been able to, or caring to, afford this stuff on her own. But she did remember Alyx mentioning one or two on occasion. Now, if only she could…

There. Her hard-knuckled index confirmed her pick of the Blue Lagoon. Hell if she knew what was in it. But Alyx liked it and that was good enough for her to try it. Pleased with her purchase, she put her arms up on the back-leans of the sofa she was seated on, wide-legged, and sank back into a slump. With another pull of the cigarette, she peered at Vin from across the table through the miasma of deep orange smoke.

“… Centauri Kick, Solar Wind, Parsec Leap…” he mumbled to himself, scrolling through the seemingly endless cocktail menu. “It just keeps going.”

“Gonna be honest, I’ve no idea what most of these even are,” he chuckled and gave up, swiping back to the top and pushing for a Derelict Drifter. “Might as well try a local specialty.”

“I guess this ain’t your type of locale either, huh,” Cass mused, slightly tilting her head and putting the cigarette in her mouth to free up her hand.

“Well, it pays to try something new once in a while.” Vin leaned back and more or less mirrored Cass’ position, sans cigarette. Without something to hold on to, he took to gesturing instead, waving a hand absent-mindedly through the air. “Experience something, y’know. I usually stick to more traditional drinks, though.”

“You want an experience? You signed up for one hell of one,” Cass’s voice came through the tangerine haze.

“You tell me,” he smiled from across the smoke. “Fifty-six times? Don’t think I can do that many.”

“I did more, but that’s just the ones I can officially prove. Can’t really say how many times I’ve been to that scrap hole.” Cass took another deep pull from her cigarette before wistfully adding: “I wish I could go elsewhere for once.”

“C’mon, you’re pulling my leg. I’ve heard the surface drives people crazy after a while.”

Vin came forward and leaned his elbows on the table, folding his hands before his face as he looked intently at her. A subtle smirk crept across his lips.

“You, on the other hand, seem…” he paused for effect, scratching his chin as he made a show of appearing to think it over, before continuing: “… mostly sane.”

“Tch,” Cass scoffed, putting her cigarette back into her hand and crossing her legs with an audible clank. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she was crazy before she got here. Or maybe Derelict and Herakles weren’t so different from each other. What did she know? Maybe the rumors were just bullshit. Or maybe she was just a freak. But if it was true, then she could only hope to be rid of her bonds before the insanity caught up with her. She would fight tooth and nail to ensure her efforts thus far had not been for naught.

“But I’m not here by choice. What about you? Why seek out this shit hole?” Another waft of sweetly-scented orange vapor drifted Vin’s way.

“Curiosity, I guess,” Vin shrugged and leaned back into the couch. “There’s a giant fucking alien machine ball out there and we’ve no idea what it is. Maybe it’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Maybe it’s Pandora’s box. But I want to know.”

“I can tell you what it is,” Cass claimed, leaning forward as well and putting her well-toned arms down on the table. “It’s a tomb. We go pokin’ around in it long enough, it’ll be ours too. Trust me, I’ve seen enough of the shit down there to know. Nothing good comes out of there.”

Cass visibly tensed up and quickly reached for her cigarette, taking a final, deep breath out of it before nonchalantly dropping it on the table.

“I just want my cash and get out of here,” she finished, reaching into one of the many utility pockets of her military pants. Moments later, her hand emerged with a fresh cigarette about to be snapped again.

“Can’t fault you for that,” he smiled half-heartedly. “Guess you’re saner than me.”

A brief pause broke out, and for a moment Vin’s eyes seemed to drift away from Cass to somewhere behind her. That familiar jovial smile crept back onto his face as his attention returned to her.

“But here we are. You, stuck here, and me, drawn here. Let’s live in the moment, eh? I think those are our drinks coming over there,” he pointed over Cass’ shoulder.

She glanced over her shoulder to see a compact flight drone gently descending towards their table. Using a small laser projector, it designated a square zone on the table’s surface as its desired landing spot. Recognizing that it was free of obstacles, the drone landed and detached its bottom portion – a tray and two glasses – before rising into the air again and returning to its nest.

The two of them eyed their beverages before Cass eventually reached for one. “I’m guessing this is mine,” she figured, reaching for a tall, narrow glass filled with a liquid mixture that appeared deep black near the top, but gradually transitioned into a slightly bioluminescent blue towards the bottom half. A hollowed-out cane of palestalk – a plant native to terraformed Mars – poked over the edge of the glass.

“Am I supposed to mix this? This is so weird,” she sighed, looking at her drink with a mixture of vehemence and uncertainty. She began stirring her drink with the palestalk, eyes narrowed in distrust.

Vin, meanwhile, reached for the only remaining drink – a curiously artful mug that appeared as if made from glued-together pieces of debris and glass, containing a clear liquid that bubbled and fizzed invitingly. With it came a small, still-sealed phial with no label and containing a deep red fluid.

“Don’t know about yours, but I think I’m supposed to,” he replied as he popped open the vial and poured the mystery fluid into his bubbling drink, where it sank slowly and settled in a layer of red at the bottom. Vin leaned into his mug and watched transfixed as the process unfolded.

“That’s fancy,” he said after a few moments. “The red stuff breaks down and rides the bubbles to the top for you to drink.”

“Kind of like how Derelict breaks you down before swallowing you,” he added with an oddly cheerful chuckle. “How’s yours?”

Cass seemed skeptical, sloshing around the faintly luminescent substance in her mouth. Eventually swallowing it, she commented: “It’s a lot stronger than I thought. Can’t believe Alyx drinks that kind of stuff. Bit sour though.” With a shrug, she took another sip in between a huff of the cigarette.

“Mhm,” Vin mouthed as he took a sip of his own drink, rolling it in his mouth for a few moments before swallowing. “Fizzy! Tastes bittersweet, with a touch of spiciness. The red stuff, maybe?”

He took another sip and sank back into the sofa, clearly enjoying the Drifter. “So, who’s Alyx?” he asked between sips. “Friend of yours?” 

“Mh?” Cass looked up, seemingly caught by surprise. “Oh. Yeah, friend. We hang out. You came by yourself, I guess?” She shifted her legs a bit, metal scraping against plastic as she thought about her blue-haired ‘friend’.

“Hitched a ride with an old friend,” he replied, taking a sizable chug out of his mug. “Works on a freighter. He left, though, so I’m on my own now.” 

“Better find some friends soon. The MOS isn’t kind to greenhorns or loners.” Hard eyes looked into Vin’s. Eyes that have seen kneecaps getting shattered and teeth being punched loose. Jaded but not wholly uncaring.

“Working on it as we speak,” he smiled and winked. “But seriously, I’ve only got myself to blame, I guess. Everyone else seems to be fine settling down. Me, I can’t bear staying in one place for too long.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Cass shot back at him, followed by a puff of deep orange smoke. “Plenty of folk with no home to call their own. I’m one of them.”

As if she was going back to Herakles after finishing up here in Maasym. Nothing there except graves to put flowers on. If there were any graves to speak of.

“Yeah, it’s just… Some times it feels like my friends are leaving me in the dust, y’know?” Vin slumped down on the table, running a finger across the rim of his glass. It was nearly empty already. “Meanwhile I’m running around in circles and going nowhere.”

“So you went to Derelict? Hell of an idea.” Cass exercised her sarcasms as she downed the last of her luminescent cocktail with little appreciation for its artistry. “Well, whatever you do, keep away from those cult loonies. They’re out to get people like you, rope them in with their bull shit.”

“Hmm,” he sighed and poured the remainder of his drink down his maw. He rested his chin in his mechanical palm, and his lips curled into a slight smile as he looked testingly at Cass. “Maybe I should join?” 

“Don’t let me stop you,” she returned, leaning back and putting her heavily tattooed arm on the back rest. “But you should know that I gunned down one of those crazy fuckers earlier this week, and it wasn’t the first time. Can’t imagine it’s the last either.”

She finished her second cigarette with almost an air of accomplishment, blowing a deep amber billow of smoke into the smog-veiled ceiling. As if she was throwing him a gauntlet for a challenge, she flicked the emptied product towards him. The narrow cylinder rolled across the table and came to a halt not far from his Drifter.

“Eh? I read some things, but I didn’t take them for a violent bunch,” he replied and reached for the burnt-out cigarette with his left, pinching it between his metal thumb and index as he inspected her waste. With a casual flourish he spun it between his fingers, sending it dancing up and down his digits with inhuman precision before stopping between his index and middle. He held it there and looked at it for a moment, before flicking it unceremoniously into his empty glass.

“That how you got, y’know,” he tapped his left shoulder with his other hand, “[i]that?[/i]”

“They’re docile enough on the MOS but you better avoid them down on the surface. Kid was younger than me, never held a gun in his life. But he was out of his mind, spouting some shit about how we were defiling a sleeping god or some such.” Cass rubbed over the sore spot under her bandages, to remind herself that it still hurt. “Either way, he shot first and wasted his chance. I didn’t waste mine.”

As she flicked through the menu, looking for a standard beer to order, she thought back on her last expedition into Derelict. Mercury personnel had been busy tearing out what seemed like an entire mainframe from the wall, unceremoniously stuffing its bits into a transportation rig. Then, out of some lightless corner he jumped out; a lowlife dreg, wrapped in tatters and carrying little more than a rebreather to keep him alive. Infected sores stuck out from his greasy skin. He’d gone derelict. “No, stop!” he had yelled, “You’re hurting it!” Guns were pointed at each other, both parties on edge. Perhaps Cass had been too quick with moving forward. Perhaps she sounded too aggressive. Perhaps there was nothing at all that could have prevented the exchange of fire. Untrained, or maybe too nervous to fire accurately, the cultist had fired through her shoulder and as she fell, Cass returned the gesture and hit him squarely in the mouth. From the gauss-pattern gun she toted, that meant that the victim’s head was cleanly ripped off.

With a mild bleep, her order was acknowledged and the holo-menu retracted. “Well, fuck,” Vin blurted, awkwardly cupping his empty glass as he grasped for words. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t need your pity,” she absentmindedly waved her hand. “Pulling the trigger’s my job. But if you really want to do me a favor then keep your head straight and stay away from them. Wouldn’t wanna see you at the end of the barrel, now, would I?”

Against expectations, she cracked a faint smile before turning her gaze to the approaching delivery drone. “Tch,” she heard Vin go, “Don’t worry about me. I’m too wishy-washy to get swept up by crazy ideologies.” 

Or so Vin would have liked to believe. Little could he know what dark wonders and obsessions Derelict had in store for him. At least it was true that he had a watchful warden in Cass, somebody who would not let him stray from the path and who, failing that, would not hesitate to put him down. Perhaps there was comfort even in that sobering thought. For now, the two of them celebrated their newfound purpose, blissfully ignorant of the trials ahead of them.

And down below, bathed in the crimson glow of Maasym’s star, Derelict murmured quietly under the ominous shadow of three gigantic battleships hovering above it like a tribunal of judges.