The bridge hummed with purpose as the Hybrid Ten reconvened, the asteroid belt's glittering haze filling the viewport like a promise laced with peril. Jax McAlister stood at the helm, his red jacket slung over the chair, green eyes sharp on the diagnostics. The decision had been unanimous to proceed with the mining op. Corellium and other crucial metals will be valuable; skipping this meant limping to the next stop on prayers alone. But with the non-hybrids still out, it was on them.

  "Teams as discussed," Jax said, his brogue steady. "Skiff One: me, Anjali, Karl, Maria hit the C-type rock for water ice. Shuttle Two: Nira, Liam, Tevan target the M-type for metals. Amaya, Mira, Lira hold the fort here. Scans, vault, signals. Questions?"

  Tevan Ryde stepped forward, his black security uniform crisp, hair tucked under his collar. He carried a crate of NPS-H sidearms, the neural pulse weapons gleaming under the lights. "One order first. Everyone arms up. No exceptions." He distributed them methodically, holsters clipping to belts. "We've got five in security rotation, that's not enough anymore. Ceres proved it; this pulse screams it. I'll square it with Chief Maka when he wakes. Till then, we're all on watch."

  Maria Navarro nodded, checking her charge. "I agree. It feels naked out there without everyone having one."

  Jax holstered his own weapon without complaint. "Aye, Tevan. Dinnae need convincin' after that neural flash. Let's gear up and get this done."

  The group dispersed to the shuttle bays, the ship's corridors echoing with urgent footsteps.

  #

  Doctor Amaya Maekawa moved through Sickbay with clinical efficiency, her white uniform a stark contrast to the dim emergency lighting. The non-hybrids lay in recovery pods, vitals steady but consciousness elusive. With the mining teams launching, she had a window. Mira Nexys joined her at the embryo vault, the cryonics specialist's face etched with worry.

  "Scan the vault for anomalies," Amaya said, keying the console. "That stolen embryo... if there's a pattern, we need to know."

  Mira nodded, her fingers flying over the interface. The vault's holo-display bloomed to life, rows of pods glowing blue. Scans hummed, data cascading: genetic profiles, stasis integrity, nanocyte markers.

  Amaya's breath caught. "One-third... 167 of the 500 are nanocyte carriers. Hybrids, like us. How? The embryos were screened pre-launch."

  Mira paled. "Well maybe your logs were altered. We could get Lira or Liam to check on them and check for tampering."

  Amaya straightened, mind racing. "I agree, yes but it's not just what happened back at home. We need more hands. Security's stretched thin. Jax has the conn let's pitch it."

  It's obvious we need more security. We can achieve that in two weeks. And with the new educational programs, they'll wake up fully functional crew members. You can sell it as a security necessity. We have the room in the crew areas; we just might have to double some up that weren't before."

  Mira nodded in agreement, “We have the room. We will just have to bunk more of us together. That's all.”

  #

  In the shuttle bays, the E.C.H.O. skiffs powered up, their compact hulls sleek under the work lights. Jax's team boarded Shuttle One, suits sealed, tools stowed: extendable scoops, drilling rigs, sealed tanks for volatiles. Nira's team on Shuttle Two loaded plasma cutters and magnetic haulers for ore. The bay was a hive of activity, crew members double-checking harnesses and equipment manifests, the low hum of charging systems filling the air like a mechanical heartbeat. Jax paused midway up the ramp of Shuttle One, his broad frame silhouetted against the glowing thrusters, red pilot's jacket zipped tight. He turned to the group, his green eyes serious under the helmet visor.

  "Not just toppin' off today, team," he said, his Scottish brogue carrying over the comms with a note of determination. "We're buildin' a proper stockpile. Ceres was a wake-up call, glitches, signals, that damned embryo mess. We cannae rely on the next system bein' as generous. I want us loaded to the gills: extra volatiles for the hydroponics, surplus metals for the VersaForge. Enough to cushion us through multiple jumps if things go south. Kepler's a long haul; let's make sure we've got the buffer to handle whatever the void throws at us."

  Karl Volk, the burly engineering technician, hefted a spare tank onto the skiff, his silver coveralls straining at the seams. "Smart call, Jax. Vega was a quick grab-and-go, but this belt's prime. If we push it, we could triple our reserves. Means longer out there, though more risk with a larger reward."

  Anjali Davikar, chief science officer, adjusted her scanner's straps, her blue uniform sleeves rolled up as always. "Agreed. My prelim scans show deep pockets on the C-type ice laced with ammonia and methane. We can tap secondary veins for the extras. But the energy spikes... they're rhythmic, like a signal building. We need to monitor for interference while we stock up."

  Maria Navarro, security in black tactical gear, clipped an extra magazine to her belt beside her NPS-H. "Longer exposure means we're sitting ducks. Tevan's arming order helps, but let's not linger. Stockpile's good, but survival's better."

  Jax nodded, clapping Karl on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. No skimping, fill every tank, haul every viable chunk. We've got the tools from Vega's playbook; let's use 'em right. Comm check," he added, voice tinny in the helmets as he sealed his own visor.

  Affirmatives rang out: Anjali's calm confirmation, Karl's gruff "Ready," Maria's sharp "Locked in." From Shuttle Two, Nira's bold "Systems green," Liam's steady "Comms clear," Tevan's clipped "Security set."

  The bay doors cycled open with a hydraulic hiss, force fields shimmering like a translucent barrier between the safety of the Hope and the unforgiving void. The skiffs lifted on magnetic repulsors, thrusters igniting in synchronized blue flares that cast dancing shadows across the bay. They arced out into space, the massive gas giant Nova Tertius looming below, its banded storms churning in endless turmoil of crimson and gold under the harsh light of the binary suns. The asteroid belt stretched ahead a vast, glittering ring of tumbling rocks, some as small as boulders, others the size of mountains, all potential treasures or traps.

  As the skiffs navigated the outer fringes, Jax keyed the team channel. "Eyes open for opportunists. If we spot a bonus rock en route rich in volatiles or metals flag it. Stockpile means opportunism. Vega gave us basics; here, we're playin' for keeps."

  The journey to the target asteroids took twenty minutes, the skiffs weaving through the debris field with graceful dodges. Dust particles pinged off the hulls like faint rain, and the binary suns cast dual shadows that made depth perception tricky. Jax's hands danced over the controls, his pilot's instincts honed from years in the Resource Wars guiding them through. "Steady now, lass," he murmured to the skiff, as if coaxing the Hope herself.

  Shuttle One approached the C-type rock first, a porous hunk of ice and carbon tumbling lazily in the void, its surface scarred by ancient impacts. Jax banked the skiff with expert nudges, thrusters flaring to match the asteroid's slow rotation. "Touchdown in ten. Ava's playbook from Vega drill and pump, but we're goin' deeper. Primary pocket for the top-off, then hit the secondaries for the stockpile. I want us haulin' back enough to fill the auxiliary holds."

  The landing struts extended with a mechanical whir, gripping the frost-crusted surface like talons. The team cycled out through the airlock, magnetic boots activating to anchor them in the microgravity. Boots crunched on the brittle ice, sending up puffs of frozen dust that glittered in the sunlight. Karl deployed the rigs first, anchoring the extendable scoops and drilling arms into the regolith with pneumatic spikes. The drills bit in with a low vibration, transmitted through their suits as a faint buzz that Jax felt in his bones.

  Vapors hissed upward as the heat elements microwave arrays calibrated from Vega's ops sublimated the ice, turning solid volatiles into collectible gas. Pumps whirred to life, funneling water, ammonia, and methane into the sealed tanks. The process was efficient, but Jax paced the site, scanner in hand, pushing for more.

  "Yield's high," Anjali reported, her scanner sweeping the excavation, holo-display projecting yield estimates in glowing blue. "Pure as Vega's fields. Primary pocket's at eighty percent already. Contaminants minimal perfect for life support replenishment."

  Jax knelt beside a drill, monitoring the flow gauges. "Good. But dinnae stop there. Redirect to the secondary vein Anjali, map it. We're buildin' surplus. Extra water means we can expand the hydroponics output; more ammonia for the chem labs. Karl, rig the overflow tanks. I want us at one-fifty capacity before we lift."

  Karl grunted, wrestling a flexible hose into place against the asteroid's spin. "Pushing it, Jax. This rock's got fissures over-drill, and we risk a fracture. But aye, stockpile's worth it. Vega left us skimpy; this'll give us breathing room for repairs, maybe even fab some upgrades for the flux drive."

  As they worked, the team fanned out. Maria paced the perimeter, NPS-H drawn and scanning for threats, her black tactical suit blending with the shadowed craters. "Perimeter secure…wait I have something on the sanners. It is intermittent, I'll work on it."

  Anjali adjusted her array, directing the scoops to a deeper pocket identified by her scans. The drills ground through layers of ancient ice, millennia-old deposits yielding to their tech. Vapors billowed like ethereal ghosts, condensing briefly on their visors before suit heaters evaporated them. The tanks filled steadily ninety percent, one hundred, then pushing into the surplus Jax demanded. The C-type was a bounty, its volatiles untainted by the eons, and Jax's insistence paid off; they tapped a third vein, hauling in enough to fill auxiliary bladders strapped to the skiff's exterior.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  But tension mounted with every passing minute. The binary suns dipped lower in their orbit, casting elongated shadows that danced erratically with the asteroid's rotation. Jax wiped frost from his visor, his breath steady in the suit's recycler. "Keep at it we're not leavin' till we've got the buffer. Think of the embryos, the crew. Extra stockpile means we dinnae ration if the next stop's dry."

  Karl sealed another tank, his voice crackling over comms. "Hundred-twenty and climbing. But the ground's shakin' more."

  Maria spun toward a distant ridge, weapon raised. "Contact! Dust plumes at three o'clock. I have explosive out gassing along with ground timmers."

  Jax froze, his scanner beeping urgently. A section of the surface cracked, fissures spiderwebbing from their drill site like veins in marble. "Is it overload, from the heat? Never mind.Pull back, secure the tanks!"

  They scrambled, hauling the rigs and hoses as the asteroid trembled beneath them. Karl locked the final overflow bladder just as a massive chunk calved off, tumbling silently into the void. "Got it! Surplus locked hundred-fifty percent yield, easy."

  "Back to the skiff," Jax ordered, thrusters on his suit pack firing to propel him toward the ramp. As they boarded, the outgassing got worse. The last blast gave the skiff a good jolt.

  The team strapped in, the skiff lifting off with a shudder. Jax glanced back at the receding rock, its fractured surface a reminder of the risks. " Woh, that was close, that last blast shook my boots. Good haul though. Stockpile's set now let's hope Shuttle Two matches it."

  #

  Shuttle Two latched onto the M-type asteroid, its metallic veins gleaming under the harsh dual light of Nova Tertius' binary suns. Nira Nexys, the bold Pilot that she is, eased the skiff into position with a final nudge of the thrusters, the clamps engaging with a resonant thud that vibrated through the hull. The asteroid was a rugged behemoth, its surface a patchwork of iron-nickel alloys scarred by cosmic impacts, promising the dense ores they desperately needed. Tevan Ryde and Liam Brown unstrapped from their seats, moving with the practiced efficiency of hybrids enhanced by the Helion Nanocytes' faster reflexes, sharper senses, though the resurfacing memories still nagged at the edges of their minds like half-forgotten dreams.

  "Stabilizing now," Nira said, her voice crisp over the comms, fingers dancing across the control panel to counter the asteroid's slow tumble. Her uniform was tucked neatly under her EVA suit, but her scowl was visible through the visor. As one of the triplet sisters, she felt the weight of their shared burdens, Mira guarding the vault back on the Hope, Lira wrestling with Dren's betrayal. But out here, focus was survival. "Rotation matched. We're locked. Liam, Tevan gear check before we cycle out."

  Liam Brown, the comms assistant, nodded as he sealed his helmet, his portable console slung over his shoulder. "Gear nominal. Plasma torches charged, magnetic haulers online. Just like we practiced, but Jax wants surplus. So no quick top-off, we're building a stockpile."

  Tevan Ryde, head of vault security, clipped his NPS-H to his thigh, his black tactical suit blending with the shadows cast by the asteroid's crags. His long hair was secured under his helmet, his heritage a quiet anchor in the chaos. "Surplus is right. Five in security rotation ain't cuttin' it anymore. Extra metals mean more armor, spare parts buffer for whatever's comin'. But keep your eyes sharp; Something is off, I am just not sure what it is."

  The airlock cycled, hissing as it equalized pressure. They stepped out onto the asteroid's surface, magnetic boots activating with a soft click to hold them against the weak gravity. The M-type rock was a miner's dream veins of iron, nickel, and trace platinum-group metals threading through the regolith like silver rivers frozen in time. The binary suns painted the landscape in stark contrasts, one star's light warmer, the other cooler, creating overlapping shadows that played tricks on the eye.

  Nira stayed in the skiff, monitoring from the cockpit. "Scans show a primary vein at two o'clock thick deposits, easy access. Hit that first for the top-off, then scout secondaries for the extras. Jax's orders: load us heavy."

  Liam ignited his plasma torch, the blue arc flaring to life with a high-pitched whine. He aimed it at the vein, the superheated plasma slicing through the metal like a knife through butter. Chunks sheared off, glowing at the edges before cooling in the vacuum. "Like exposed veins back home," Liam said, hauling a load into the magnetic hauler's net. The device hummed, its field enveloping the ore and floating it toward the skiff's cargo bay. "But denser, here good for hull patches, drive components. We could fab an extra lattice with this haul."

  Tevan swept his scanner across the site, the device beeping intermittently as it mapped subsurface deposits. "Deeper pockets below nickel-rich. We'll need to drill for the surplus. Jax is right; stockpile means security. If the flux drive takes another hit like at Nova Tertius, we'll need the buffer to repair on the fly."

  They worked in rhythm, Liam and Tevan alternating cuts. The plasma torches carved precise grooves, avoiding waste, while the magnetic haulers upgraded from Vega's ops with stronger fields netted the fragments efficiently. Ore piled up in the bays: fist-sized nuggets of iron for structural reinforcements, silvery nickel for alloy mixes in the VersaForge. The process was grueling in microgravity; even with nanocyte enhancements, sweat beaded inside their suits, recyclers whirring to keep them cool.

  "Bay one at fifty percent," Liam reported, pausing to wipe his visor. "Primary vein's yielding fast, purer than expected. No contaminants; straight into processing back on the Hope."

  Nira's voice crackled from the skiff. "Good. But push for the secondaries. Jax wants us overloaded extra for emergencies. Scan shows a cluster at four o'clock, deeper but worth it."

  Tevan nodded, shouldering his torch. "On it. Liam, cover me, I'll drill the access point."

  He advanced to the crevice, the asteroid's surface crunching under his boots like brittle foil. The scanner guided him to a promising seam, and he fired the torch, plasma biting deep. Sparks flew in silent arcs, the vacuum swallowing any sound. Metal liquefied at the edges, cooling rapidly into slag that Tevan brushed aside. "Vein's opening up nickel heavy traces of cobalt. This'll give us the stockpile edge. Haul it in."

  Liam deployed an extendable arm from the hauler, netting the freshly cut chunks. The magnetic field pulsed, drawing the ore like iron filings to a magnet. Load after load filled the bays sixty percent, seventy. They pushed harder, Tevan directing cuts to maximize yield, Liam sorting for quality. "At this density we could triple our repair kits with the extras. Jax'll be pleased."

  But as the work intensified, the anomalies crept in. Tevan's scanner beeped erratically, its display flickering. "Spike incoming I am reading rumbling on the other side of this rock. If the trimmers get closer we may need to cut and run."

  Liam paused mid-haul, glancing at the horizon. "I don’t feel anything yet so it must be to far away"

  Nira cut in. "I’ll keep an eye on it. From here the skiffs sensors are more sensitive. I am not getting closer than two klicks. We should be good, keep going."

  Tevan felt a twinge, a resurfacing memory flashing: crimson skies, stone steps, a coiling serpent under ancient pyramids. He shook it off, nanocytes steadying his focus. "Not stoppin' now. Stockpile's priority. Liam, redirect to that tertiary vein, platinum traces there. Extra for the quantum foam stabilizers."

  They delved deeper, the plasma torches whining as they carved into the asteroid's core. The surface heated under their assault, faint glows marking where metal had been superheated. Chunks the size of a man's torso floated free, netted and secured. Eighty percent capacity the skiff's bays groaned under the weight, auxiliary straps deployed to hold the overflow. Tevan's arms ached despite the enhancements, but he pressed on, slicing a final groove that exposed a rich pocket.

  "Ninety," Liam called, sweat in his voice. "Surplus locked. This haul's a game-changer, enough metals to rebuild half the engineering bay if needed."

  The scanner screamed a sharp anomaly spike. Tevan whirled. "Contact! Crevice at eleven let’s go, that rumble is too close."

  They paused, NPS-H's drawn and ready, the weapons humming with charged neural pulses. A rumble rippled from the crevice, getting stronger. I don’t like that the rumble is too close.

  Nira's urgent voice: "Abort! Spikes off the charts, I have ground quakes at a hundred meters. Get back now!"

  "Back to the skiff," Tevan ordered, covering their retreat. They bounded in low-g leaps, magnetic boots disengaging for speed. Ore nets sealed, the last chunks secured. The last bit of metal they hauled back would make this stop worth it.

  They piled into the airlock, the skiff detaching with a jolt. As they pulled away, the ground shook underneath them, the rock rippled across the surface. "We've got what we need and more," Tevan said, jaw tight. "Stockpile's full. But that rock has more, it just needs to settle down a bit first.."

  The skiff arced back toward the Hope, the belt's shadows lengthening behind them.

  #

  The shuttle bays hissed with decompression as both E.C.H.O. skiffs docked, their hulls dusted with asteroid grit. The Hybrid Ten gathered in the Apex chamber, suits shed but fatigue etched on their faces. Jax McAlister leaned against the holo-table, his red jacket rumpled, green eyes scanning the group. The viewport framed Nova Tertius' retreating storms, the asteroid belt a fading glitter.

  "Alright, debrief," Jax said, brogue thick. "Shuttle One first. We hit the C-type hard volatiles topped off and then some. Hundred-fifty percent yield: water, ammonia, methane. Stockpile's solid; hydroponics'll thrive, VersaForge has a buffer for emergencies. But the outgassing became a problem fast... it started off slow and far away, but as the surface cracked the outgassing got closer."

  Anjali Davikar nodded, her blue sleeves still rolled. "Pure deposits, like Vega but denser. We tapped deep veins for the extras. No losses, that's something to be grateful for."

  Maria Navarro, NPS-H still holstered, crossed her arms. "Perimeter held, but close calls. Dust plumes from the fissures and outgassing almost lost a rig. The surplus was worth it, though. We're cushioned now."

  Jax turned to Nira's team. "Shuttle Two?"

  Nira Nexys, secondary pilot and navigator, scowled at the holo-display. "M-type was a goldmine, iron-nickel veins thick as anything I saw back home, but with platinum traces. We carved primaries for top-off, then secondaries for stockpile. Doubled reserves: hull patches, drive parts, even spare conduits. Plasma torches held, haulers netted clean."

  Liam Brown wiped his brow. "Dense ore perfect for fabbing upgrades. Pushed to ninety before the rumbling started. Magnets glitched, but we adapted. Surplus means we're not scraping by anymore."

  Tevan Ryde, security lead, leaned forward. "The ground quakes started on the other side of the rock. It was not a big deal. Nira monitored the quakes from the skiff and when it got as close as one hundred meters, we called it quits."

  Jax rubbed his temple. "Good hauls, all. Stockpile's our edge enough for two bad jumps if needed. But that signal... it's hauntin' us. Lira, any updates?"

  Lira Nexys, pale from Dren's logs, shook her head. "Evolving: 'Ascendant... blood awakens.' Helion noncytes."

  The door hissed; Amaya Maekawa entered, white uniform crisp, Mira trailing. "Jax, the vault scan's done. Anomalies: 167 of 500 embryos are nanocyte carriers hybrids. Likely from the same place we came from but that is still unknown."

  Murmurs rippled. Mira gripped the table. "One-third? How?"

  Amaya's eyes met Jax's. "We need more crew security especially. If you order it, I'll unpack the growth pods. Accelerate them: two weeks to functional adults. New ed-programs ensure they're mission-ready. Sell it as a necessity we've got room; double up quarters if needed."

  Jax straightened. "Hybrids? Bloody hell. Pros: bolsters us fast, and I agree we need security. Cons: unknown nanocyte effects. It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission aye, let’s do it."

  Amaya nodded. "Starting prep. They'll wake oriented, loyal."

  Tevan frowned. "More hybrids..." A worried look crossed his face.

  Amaya looked at Tevan and gave it to him straight, “I don't think what we have been experiencing will affect them. After examining all the logs and accounts from everyone in this room. I believe at some time in our past our memories were erased. What we are having is flashes of those memories coming back. At some point we will all know why but for now we just wait.”

  The chamber emptied with both gleeful anticipation and worried thoughts.