Several more shots are fired. Fortunately, none at me. I manage to twist my head and see that the man who managed to injure my me has had his head, neck and upper torso burnt to a crisp. Two dark holes, one on his forehead and the other in his cheek, extend right the way through his petrified face.

His body lays on the floor, flooding the vicinity with blood. When a foot, encased in a black boot, is placed on his chest, the flow of blood increases. Surrounding the door to the hanger, there is a splattering of blood, a mixture his and that of his female companion.

After a couple of seconds the foot removes itself from the man's chest and a spent magazine falls to the floor. The figure then kneels down, and it's only then that I realize that it's Althea. She smiles at me and offers me a hand.

I accept, extending my arm, and she helps pull me from underneath the ship. Once up, I go over and pick up the discarded pistol of the man I shot, guessing it's better than my own given its telescopic sight. The man, still alive, looks up at me with disdain.

"What is it you want?" he asks, his voice strained, his lips barely moving.

"Didn't Persephone make herself clear?" I ask.

"You work with that demon? You're a traitor!"

Before I have a chance to respond, Althea shoots the man in the head. A single burst of energy from her laser pistol is enough to kill the man. The concentrated light burns through his brain, leaving a small hole in his forehead, and presumably that hole extends slightly into the tiled floor below him.

"I hate it when people say silly things about mummy," she says through gritted teeth, "We'll collect the bodies after, so mummy can cook them for her dinner. The weapons too."

"I'm not sure how much I'll be able to carry since they shot me in the arm..."

Her smile disappears. She wraps her hand around my bloodied arm. Her hands feel my biceps and triceps, tenderly caressing them. Even this feels painful, but I can't show any sign of weakness – not now anyway. We still have lots of work to do.

"There's a bullet in your wrist," she says, shift her touch down my arm to my forearm, "Mummy is not going to be happy about this."

I knew spacesuits normally double as body armour, but I never did I think I'd find one this strong on a salvaged mining vessel. This spacesuit is amazing. That bullet could have easily gone into my torso.

"But we must go on," I say, "We've come this far."

"Yes."

Althea, removes the hand holding the laser pistol from me and I follow her into the hallway. In the distance, is a double door, white in colour. Who knows what could be behind that set of doors. I hope Althea has come prepared.

When we reach the door, apparently unconcerned with both our safety, Althea barges through it. The doors swing open violently, revealing a fairly large open space with many tables. Heading towards us are two more women – both of them holding pistols.

But, before they even have a chance to raise their weapons, we fire ours. Althea and I both manage to fire several shots before retreating behind some chairs. When we do so, one of the women screams.

Her scream is followed by a loud thump, implying she has collapsed onto the floor. The other woman, meanwhile, is able to call for back up. Damn it! I was sure I got her too!

"Both criminals are still alive," she shouts, clearly aggravated, "We need backup!"

After that there is a moment of silence as we all consider our next moves. Neither us, nor the woman attacking us moves. Althea looks at me with a frown. She raises her free hand, and is just about to speak, when we hear a voice on the station's public address system.

"As I don't want anymore of my people dead, I suppose I had better hear you out. What is it you want exactly?" I hear a male voice say, "This Angel friend of yours wasn't quite clear. She just asserted that you needed to come aboard to collect some things. State your aims. Go on, I can hear you."

"Should I talk or will you?" I whisper to Althea.

"You talk," she says back to me.

Very well. I clear my throat and try to calm my nerves. I hope this isn't another trap – a distraction to keep us occupied, whilst they surround us with security personnel.

"We're here because we need a machine to do blood tests and some basic medical supplies. Persephone will, as she promised, not harm you if you let us take what we want."

"What could she possibly want with a blood analysis machine?" the male voice questions, "If I was going to raid a hospital that's certainly not the first thing I'd go for. Why not take some expensive medicines to sell on the black market? What could she possibly want with a blood analysis machine?"

"It's not for her."

"What do you mean? This all sounds preposterous."

We just want a machine that can do blood tests. Why all this talk of what a good criminal would do? I'm not a criminal. Then again I did just march into a hospital with a list of demands...

"Well," the man prompts.

"Someone wants to do blood tests on her," I say, becoming annoyed, "Now will you give us the machinery we want and quit stalling?"

"I see. So he's found himself a powerful ally after all. I want everyone to stand-down. I need to talk to the intruders in private."

That's a relief. I was worried we were in for an extended gun battle. Hopefully we can be in and out without anymore fuss. I should be used to the sight of dead bodies by now, but they still manage to scare me just a little bit.

"How do we find you?" I ask.

"Tabitha will show you to my office. She's the one you didn't manage to shoot to pieces."

"Fine."

When Althea and I get up, I see Tabitha, a tall woman with shoulder length black hair, is already standing a few tables away from us. She, still holding her gun, gives us a scornful look. I try not to reciprocate her anger, and simply walk across to meet her.

Althea is not so diplomatic however. Through her visor I see an extremely frustrated face. It's as if she is upset that she didn't get to kill the woman. Not wanting to irk her any more than she already is, I remain quiet.

When we reach her, without saying a word, she gestures for us to follow her and starts walking along the rows of tables, across the circumference of the station. It soon becomes clear that we were in a canteen, and I notice the cooks cowering in a corner of the kitchen as we walk past. After the kitchen, the area gradually transforms into a simple waiting area, lined with cushioned seats.

All along the outer edge of the long room are many doors. Tabitha comes to a stop next to one of the few lifts however. She turns around, her eyes narrowing as she looks at us.

"His office is through this lift," she says.

The journey inside the lift is silent. When we arrive at the specified floor, a man is waiting for us just outside of the lift. He is almost bald, with white hair and wears a complex expression – a mixture of contempt and fear. He is wearing a laboratory coat and, underneath it, a plain dark grey t-shirt.

"As requested," Tabitha says, her voice amazingly calm given the tension in the air.

"Thank you Tabitha. You are dismissed. You can go and relax for a while if you want. I'm sorry for putting you through that."

"Thank you sir."

Tabitha gives the man a bow and leaves. As she enters the lift, the man's attention then turns to us. His expression is hard to read; I can't decide if he's really serious or if this is another attempt at a stall.

"I underestimated you two..." he says, before being cut off by Althea.

"You make the same mistake all humans make," she shouts, "You think my mummy is just some weak damsel. Well you're wrong!"

"Althea, please..." I manage to say before she cuts me off too.

"This human insulted my mummy!"

"I am truly sorry..." he says.

"My mummy could..."

"Althea please!" I shout, clenching my fists as I do, "I've had just about enough of your interrupting. Let's hear what the man has to say first. Please."

Althea looks at me, her angry expression replaced with one of sadness. Her eyes begin to well up too. Oh crap, if Persephone finds out I made Althea cry I'm a goner.

"I'm sorry Hercules," Althea sobs, "I'll be quiet now."

"I'm sorry for shouting at you Althea. We all know how amazing your mummy is, but now is not the time. Please, for Hercules."

"I suppose you're right."

The man offers us each a hand. I shake his hand and, upon seeing this, Althea does the same with his other hand. None of us are at all enthusiastic with our shaking, and the awkwardness is clear. When he shakes my arm he seems to notice the bullet lodge in my wrist.

"I'm Dr. Timothy Dickinson," the man says, "I am the doctor in charge of this hospital. And you must be Hercules, and you're Althea, correct?"

"Correct," I say as we each retract our hands.

"And you came here wanting a blood analysis machine?"

"Yes. That's what we just told you."

"First we should have your wound seen to. Follow me."

The corridor is fairly wide – there is enough room for all three of us to stand side-by-side. All along it are small rooms – many of them windowed – some filled with medical equipment and others with offices. We follow the doctor into one of the adjoining rooms with, what looks like, an operating table and various cupboards in it.

Upon entering, he turns to face us. He inspects the bullet hole in the arm of my spacesuit but does not touch it. After a few seconds, he walks over to one of the cupboards.

"Whatever I do now is because I am a decent human being," he says, removing some items from the cupboard, "Don't think I like you. Take off your spacesuit please."

Funny he should say that after we've just been attacked. If he was really that decent he wouldn't have ordered people to ambush us in the first place. But, I'm grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you, Dr. Dickinson," I say, "I'm sure it's not that bad though. This seems to be an old mining spacesuit so it's not designed for combat."

"You can never be too careful," he replies, "But at least it didn't hit a vital part of your body. You can probably get away without any major surgery."

As he places the items onto the table in the middle of the room – a roll of bandages and a couple of spray-bottles – I begin to unzip my spacesuit (the zip is on the front). Unfortunately, as I come to remove the material from my injured arm the pain increases.

"Argh," I cry.

"Hercules are you okay?" Althea asks, her voice full of sadness.

I grasp my arm tightly, hoping the pain will lessen. But it doesn't seem to be helping. Have I broken a bone in my arm? The bullet went in deep for sure.

"I...I think I'll be fine Althea."

"Looks like Timothy will be able to fix you. You'll be good as new!"

I look back towards the doctor, who gives us an odd expression. Without saying a word, he walks over to me and takes my arm. He gently tugs at it. Although the pain remains strong, I resist stopping him. Fortunately, as I'm only wearing a short sleeved t-shirt underneath, only one layer has to be removed.

When the spacesuit is removed from my damaged arm, the doctor is able to take a closer look at it. He leans in, getting uncomfortably close, but does not touch the bloodied hole in my arm. When he eventually retracts his head, he goes over to the table to grab a spray-bottle – presumably containing a disinfectant of some kind.

"It doesn't look like anything major," he assures me, "The bullet didn't go too deep into your wrist. It hit the bone, sure, but you'll be fine."

When the spray hit my arm it triggers a painful stinging sensation. I clench my fists, but manage to remain quiet. The doctor then walks back over to the table.

"I assume you're not one of those people who thinks that it's cool to walk around with a bullet lodged inside you," he says, "I've seen a few of those in my time. They seem to think that it makes them look tough for some reason."

"I never understood those people either," I say, remembering a shipmate named Jackson, one of those odd people the doctor is referring to.

"Good. This might hurt a little."

The doctor takes a pair of tweezers from the table. He then takes another close look at my arm. He stares at it intently for a moment and holds it in his free hand.

When the tweezers come into contact with the bullet, I flinch. The doctor instinctively grips my arm tighter. The tweezers pull hard, and I want to scream but I manage to stay strong.

I bite down on my lower lip and tense all of my muscles. Althea noticing my pain, begins to look rather worried. I give her a thumbs up with my free arm, but, apparently, she doesn't understand my attempt to reassure her.

The doctor holds up the removed bullet triumphantly. He holds it in the for several seconds before placing it onto the table. He then gets the roll of bandages. Once the is bandage securely around my arm, I'm able to endorse my spacesuit again.

"Follow me into my office," he says as he opens the door to the hallway, "There are some photographs I want to show you."

Without any protest, we both follow the doctor back along the corridor. His office is one of the rooms without a window. When he opens his office door, a messy room presents itself.

In one corner is a desk, with a laptop computer and lots of paper scattered all over it, and an expensive looking office chair. By the door are two rather less expensive chairs and an open cupboard containing a variety of computer equipment and several piles of paperwork. On a shelf beside the desk is a kettle and some books.

"Please, have a seat in front of my desk," Dr. Dickinson says as he walks over to his desk to sit down, "You can move the chairs; it's not a problem. Just make sure that the door securely closed behind you."

Both of us take a chair whilst the doctor makes himself comfortable. He then pulls out a rectangular picture frame from somewhere underneath the desk. The picture frame is an electronic one, displaying a slide show consisting of various photographs – some of them of children, others of adults – many of them containing a young Dr. Dickinson.

I...is that who I think it is in the photographs? Is that man Wayne? Does this man know Wayne? The doctor notices my uneasy reaction and allows me a closer look at the photographs.

"You recognise someone?" he asks.

Unfortunately I do. But what is the connection? I look back up at the face of the doctor. Could they be brothers?

"Hercules, what's wrong?" Althea asks, her prior sadness replaced with concern for me.

"I know that man," I say, pointing to Wayne.

"Do you know this man's name?" the doctor asks, also pointing to Wayne.

"Yes. His name is Wayne."

"Correct. He is the one who really sent you here isn't he?"

"How did you know?"

"It was instinct I suppose. I've known he's wanted to kill Eris for a while."

"Bingo. He mentioned something about killing Eris if we do him a favour. Wait! How do you know about that?"

"Obtaining a blood testing machine was another of Wayne's crazy ideas. He came to see me last year asking for certain medical supplies, even though he knows I want nothing to do with his creations."

"What? You mean the Angels?"

Dr. Dickinson slams his fist onto the table. The force causes one of the piles of paper to fall. I look at him dumbfounded. All the while, Althea is managing to sit quietly next to me. Eerily quiet in fact.

"Precisely!" he says, looking at me with increasing anger, "He got paid insane amounts of money for those biology experiments! Enough to build a personal station not that much smaller than this one. Which he did. He even has a generous pension to keep him quiet about the whole thing, or so I'm told. I, on the other hand...well. I've been left to rot in this old hospital. He's deluded if he thinks he can fix his mistake. How can someone be so smart and yet be so idiotic at the same time?"

Who could possibly want to create giantesses? Wouldn't they know of the dangers of creating such powerful women? And their flagships too. Did Wayne do all of this on his own? I find it hard to believe that he did.

"Wayne seems serious. He must have a solution!" I say, my confidence clearly disappearing.

"Like I said, Wayne is both smart and an idiot at the same time. Let me tell you a story."

"This Wayne guy is really annoying," Althea suddenly chimes in.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that Althea. That is the nice way of putting it," Dr. Dickinson says with a nod of his head, "When we were children, we always dreamt of following in the footsteps of our parents. They were both extremely famous astrobiologists. When the time came, an anonymous donor came forward to offer to pay for our entire time at university, but only on the condition we studied synthetic biology somewhere in the Solar System."

"Did you accept?" I ask.

"I didn't – I suspected something was up – but Wayne did accept. I knew we were both bright, Wayne especially, everyone around us knew that, and somebody must have taken a particular interest in us. Curiously, we both managed to end up working for the same company as our late parents. Wayne said they'd be happy to employ me too and, as I foolishly accepted, that's why you see me here now. Now, do you honestly believe they'd let him just waltz in and kill Eris?"

When he finishes speaking, there is an awkward silence. He places both of his hands over his mouth, suggesting he is thinking deeply. His eyes convey a sense of fear. Dr. Dickinson is clearly a man conflicted.

"You mean the mining company?" I prompt, hoping my guess triggers something.

"What makes you think it's a mining company?"

So it's actually not what I thought it might be? Why would Persephone be told not to attack miners then? It makes no sense. If it's not a mining company, then who is it? I look at the doctor, confused, wondering why on Mars he isn't being straightforward with me.

"Wayne told us this a hospital primarily used by injured and sick miners," I say, in the hope of squeezing more information out of the doctor.

"I see. And that's your reason for thinking I work for a mining company?"

His voice is wavering. It seems I hit a nerve. Good thing we have our guns, if the doctor refuses to cooperate.

"It's not just that. But if it's not a mining company then who is it?"

"I've already said too much. You need to go. The equipment will be waiting downstairs."

The doctor begins to get up from his seat and, right on cue, Althea points her laser pistol directly at him. Immediately he sits back down. We both sneer at him.

"Tell Hercules what he wants to know!" she demands.