Steel & Dust E-Book

Nico Strasser

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 141

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

"Steel & Dust" In a world torn by endless wars and crumbling empires, a group of survivors fight to forge a new future in the ashes of the past. Trenxa, a warrior leader marked by betrayal and loss, stands against the final forces that want to plunge civilization into chaos. But the real battle is not only against external enemies, but also against the dark shadows within their own hearts. Between blood and steel, hope and despair, Trenxa must decide whether the path to the future only leads through the rubble of the past - or whether true freedom can only be found in letting go of the old world. An epic adventure about power, morality and the price of survival.

Leseprobe

Title:Steel & Dust

Author:Nico Strasser

Biography:

Nico Strasser was born in Munich in 1985 and grew up in a small town in southern Germany. Fascinated by the world of stories from an early age, he spent his youth reading novels and writing his own texts. After years of writing in his free time, he decided to publish his first works. Strasser now lives a secluded life and concentrates fully on his writing. His stories are shaped by the harsh reality of life, and he is not afraid to tackle tough topics and complex, often controversial characters. In addition to writing, Strasser is also an avid traveler and collects impressions and inspiration from all over the world, which he processes in his novels.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Dirt

Trenxa Wraxx crouched under the torn hull of a freighter and cursed. The damned oil filter had been rusting solid for an hour, and her patience had long since run out. The station's hot breath rose from the vents like a thick soup, a mixture of burnt plastic and stale sweat that permeated everything on the Grayclaw.

"Fucking piece of shit!" She banged her wrench against the metal until the vibrations went into her fingers. "One more time and I'll weld you to scrap metal!" Her hands were glistening with oil, her nails black with dirt, but she gritted her teeth and pulled at the part again with all her strength. A muffled laugh sounded behind her, rough and wheezing, like a rusty chainsaw. "Do you always talk so lovingly to your stuff, Wraxx? No wonder you're alone."

Trenxa turned around, eyes narrowed, wrench clutched in hand. "Fuck off, Kando. If I need your face, I'll call you. Until then, you can choke on your own cock."

Kando, a beefy guy with a bald head that looks likeoiled leather gleamed, grinned wider. "Relax, kid. I just came to see if you've finally finished my freighter. Got a date with a few crates of weapons shipments, and the guys out there don't like waiting."

"Your freighter runs as well as your fucking brain. So shut up and let me work or I'll shove your own exhaust up your ass."

He took a step toward her, but Trenxa swung the wrench dangerously in her hand. "You want trouble? Then let's get started. But remember, Kando, I'm the best here. And without me, you're just another scumbag waiting for spare parts." He paused, snorted, and raised his hands. "It's fine, it's fine. But you really should work on your customer service, Wraxx. Otherwise, someone might end up bashing your head in." They left it there, turned back to the filter and pulled on it with a final curse. With a screeching crunch, the thing finally came off. "Hah! Damn thing! You think you can stop me, don't you?" They held the thing up triumphantly, even though their forearms burned from the effort. "You really talk to machines a lot." The voice came quietly and hissing, as fast as an echo, from the half-light of the workshop. Trenxa turned around. "Who's there?"

A thin, pale man with overly large eyes and a wide mouth stepped forward. Sirrion Floxx, better known as Sirro, an alien smuggler with a penchant for unnecessarily tight clothing. His lips were twisted into a crooked grin, and his three fingers nervously played with a stick that looked like an antenna.

"Sirro," growled Trenxa. "What do you want?"

"I have a job for you, Wraxx. One that will challenge your talents a little more than this piece of junk." He nodded toward the freighter. "Forget it. I've got enough to do dealing with idiots like Kando."

Sirro stepped closer, his grin unwavering. "This idiot may pay you a few lousy credits, but I'm talking real numbers. Fifty thousand. Up front." Trenxa felt her heart beat faster for a moment. They need the credits. The station was demanding weekly protection money, their equipment was falling apart, and the bills were piling up like garbage on aRecycling Planet. But if Sirro was so generous, it means the job was anything but clean.

"What kind of job?"

"Fix a ship. One that's... well, let's just say useful. No questions, no investigation. Just tighten the bolts, check the fuel lines, and we're off the hook."

She stared at him. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. Just... you can't be too nosy. Deal?" Her instincts screamed to run. But fifty thousand credits was fifty thousand credits. She took the wrench, wiped it on her hose, and put it in her tool bag. "Deal. But if you screw me, Sirro, I'll weld your three hearts together."

Sirro laughed and clapped his hands. "This is my Wraxx. Meet at Dock 17 in two hours. And get your ass on time, OK?"

Trenxa watched him as he pushed his way out of the workshop. Her stomach rumbled and a bitter taste rose in her throat. The job stank to high heaven, but she had no choice.The Grayclaw was a shithole, and if you weren't willing to wade in shit here, you were going under.

Chapter 2: A Deal Goes Wrong

Dock 17 was the worst place on the Grayclaw, and that was saying something. The air was thicker than the stench from the bathrooms of a seedy bar, and the floor was a mixture of metal plates, spilled fuel, and dried blood. Trenxa pulled her coveralls tighter, not because she was cold—it was never cold on the Grayclaw—but because she wanted to shield herself from the constant gaze of the loitering people. Dock 17 is watched over by no cameras, no guards, only shadows that knew too much and were too quick to strike if you acted stupidly.

Sirro waited by a massive cargo door so old that every time you opened it you thought it would fall apart. His nervous fidgeting was obvious. He looked like someone who knew he was in trouble but was somehow enjoying it. In one hand he held a small metal box, in the other a strange cylinder that he kept checking. His long fingers pulled incessantly.

"You're late," he said as Trenxa approached. His voice was soft as grease, but full of suspicion. "I'm here on the minute, Floxx. You're just too nervous to count straight," Trenxa replied, crossing her arms. "Now get out of here. What kind of job is this really? This doesn't look like 'checking fuel lines'."

Sirro shrugged, his grin still on. "Relax, Wraxx. It's very simple. We just need to reactivate a freighter that got a little, shall we say, heated. It suffered a system crash, and well... its cargo is a little sensitive."

"Sensitive like a bomb, or sensitive like 'You can't even think about it without someone killing you'?" Trenxa asked dryly.

"Could be a mix of both." Sirro winked, but his eyes wandered around restlessly. "But hey, that's what the big credits are, right?"

"Fat credits, my ass," she muttered as she walked past him and looked at the freighter standing in the dim bay. It was a model she knew all too well. An oldBrythar classfrigate, built to enable fast transport through dangerous areas. The problem was: these things had a lousy firewall. If someone transported something really illegal, it was only aIt was only a matter of time before a hacker or a surveillance satellite triggered the alarm. “And what about the crew?” she asked as she stepped closer to the ship.

"Dead," Sirro said. His voice was suddenly more serious. "This is a ghost ship. The Black Pack discovered the freighter on the last outpost. No idea what happened, but everyone on board was dead. No blood, no visible wounds. Just... gone." Trenxa stopped and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Are you trying to tell me that the ship is cursed? Should I pull out a screw and suddenly we'll all be in a horror movie, or what?"

"It's not a curse. Just an accident. Probably." Sirro grinned again, but his eyes betrayed that he didn't believe his own words.

"This is the moment when I should say, 'Fuck it, I'm going home,'" Trenxa said, shouldering her toolbox. "But if I do that, my debt will still be there tomorrow." Go ahead. Show me the damn airlock."

They entered the freighter and the atmosphere changed immediately. The lights flickered,and the air was heavy, full of the smell of ozone and something she couldn't place. Maybe death. Maybe fear. The consoles on the walls still showed corrupted data streams, and the floor crunched beneath her boots. It was as if the ship was breathing, but irregularly, pathologically. “This feels wrong,” she said, looking around. "Well, the Black Pack pulled the freighter out of a damned nebula. Maybe it got some radiation." Sirro Klang tried casually, but his hands were shaking as he activated the control panel in front of them.

Trenxa bent down to check a loose cable connection. "Radiation doesn't make an entire crew invisible, Floxx. And this cable here was cut, not by some malfunction." They held up the end, the cut precise, quick surgical.

"Maybe it was the passengers. Or maybe they just... disappeared." Sirro took a step back as she checked the wiring harness.

“Passengers?” she asked sharply, without looking at him.

"Okay, well, yes, it was a damned cargo. No passengers. Anything valuable. Or... anyone." His voice trailed off. "The Black Pack didn't even touch the thing." Just hooked it and sent it to me. And now it's our problem."

"Great. Shit with a loop," Trenxa muttered as she powered up the systems. The hum of the power cells filled the room, and for a moment everything was quiet, almost too quiet.

Then, with a deafening screech, the lights shot on. A blinding flash, accompanied by a bloodcurdling metallic bang, made them both jump. The screens flickered, and a distorted face appeared on one of the monitors. Not human. Not even close. The eyes were black, the mouth seemed frozen in an unnatural grin. "What the-" Trenxa froze as Sirro stepped behind her and cursed loudly.

"Damn it! I knew it! I knew it was a mistake!" He grabbed her arm, but she shook him off. "Calm down, Floxx. Maybe it's just some damn hacker. Or a faulty interface." Her voice didn't soundconvincing. The face continued to twist, the eyes now glowing. And then, with a sharp crackle, the monitors disappeared and the ship plunged back into darkness.

Sirro was pale, his three fingers clutching the metal box as if it were his lifeline. "That wasn't a damn hacker, Wraxx. That's... something else." Trenxa drew her laser pistol, which she always carried in her belt, and felt her fingers trembling. "Whatever this is, it won't live long if it gets in my way."

"We should get out of here. Now." Sirro sounded panicked, but Trenxa shook his head. "Not until I get the system back under control. If we leave now, the freighter will lose all power and we won't be able to move. Do you want the Black Gang to destroy us?"

Sirro didn't answer. Instead, he stared over her shoulder into the darkness. His eyes were wide, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. “What’s going on?” Trenxa turned around. And then she saw it.

Chapter 3: The Shadow

The thing was a silhouette, barely tangible. It moved like smoke, but its presence was heavy and oppressive, as if space itself were receding. It had no clear outlines, no discernible limbs, just a hint of movement that vanished and reappeared with each flicker of the emergency lights. A sound came from the darkness, deep and vibrating, like metal groaning under immense pressure.

Trenxa felt her throat go dry, her laser pistol heavier than ever in her hand. "What... the hell is that?" Her voice sounded flat, almost toneless, as she fought with all her might against the rising panic.

Sirro took two steps back, his finger clenched around the metal box. "That's... that wasn't part of the plan." Shit, Wraxx, I don't know what that is!" His voice was high, quickly becoming hysterical, and his breathing was coming in gasps.

The thing moved again, closer this time. The shadow seemed to ripple, as if it were flowing over the walls. A sound, half growl, half whisper, spread, and Trenxa felt the fine hairs on her arms stand up. It did not speak, notreally, but she could hear something. Words digging into her head like a torn echo that didn't belong.

"You don't belong here."

She flinched and instinctively raised her weapon. "Shut up! Whatever you are, I'll blow your nonexistent face off if you come any closer!" Her voice was loud, defiant, but inside there was another side of her raging, screaming at her to run away.

Sirro was now against the wall, his back against cold metal, his eyes fixed on the shadow like a frightened animal. "Wraxx, stop provoking it! We have to get out! Now!"

"Out? Through what? You want to go back through the lock while that thing is haunting around in here?" She pointed the gun at the movement where she had last seen the thing. "I'm not going to fly until I know what this is." And whether it's spreading."

The whispering grew louder, a chaotic murmur of different voices speaking over and under each other. Some sounded like screams, others like the whispers of children. Trenxa could no longer concentrate, the noise crept into her head as if someone had broken her thoughts into shards of glass.

"Wraxx, the thing... it wants the box." Sirro's voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes full of tears. He held the box in front of him now, as if it would protect him. "That's why it's here. It will bring her back."

"What's in that damn box, Sirro?" Trenxa's voice was sharp as a blade, but she didn't look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on the shadows writhing in the darkness.

"I... I don't know!" It was just an assignment, okay? The Black Gang told me to deliver the thing. It's valuable, maybe alive... I don't know! But if I lose it, I'm dead!"

"Shit, Sirro!" Trenxa felt anger rising within her, a mixture of fear and frustration. "You bring me in here without telling me anything?" And now we have a shadow spirit that wants to fucking kill us both!"

The thing formed again, this time closer, quickly within reach. It was larger than she had imagined, and it seemed to inflate with every movement. A spark of pure instinct shot through her. She fired. The shot from the laser pistol hissed through the air, hit the shadow mass, and vanished as if it had never been there.exists. The thing smiled back, but it was more confusion than pain. The whispers grew louder, angrier."You... don't... belong... here."

"Damn it!" Trenxa jumped back, pushing herself against the wall, her weapon useless. "It's useless. It... it doesn't react to energy!" “Give him the box! Just give it to him!” Sirro was now completely panicked, his face wet with cold sweat.

"And what if it becomes even more dangerous? What if the thing... something is activated?" Trenxa hesitated, her gaze wandering back and forth between the box and the shadow. "I have no idea what we're dealing with here, but something tells me that this won't stop just because we're good!"

The shadow continued to grow, spreading along the walls, and suddenly the air was heavier. It felt like the room was getting tighter, like the thing was bending reality itself. Trenxa felt her legs give way beneath her, her breathing shallow and gasping.

"I... I can't..." Sirro slid to the floor, clutching the box tightly. His eyes were glassy, his lips moving as if he were praying.

Trenxa gritted her teeth and called out all herShe gathered up her remaining energy and screamed, "HEY!" She lifted the box, ripping it from Sirro's hands, while he only let out a weak "No!" The thing stopped, the shadow vibrating like a taut string.

"You want that, don't you? This?" Trenxa held up the box, her fingers shaking with tension. "Then take it, you miserable bastard, but leave us alone!"

The thing seemed to pause, as if studying her. The air crackled with tension, and the whispers turned into a deep, vibrating hum. Then, suddenly, the shadow shot forward, fast as a wave, trying to swallow her.