Serial Saturday #2.9: The Ashen Light
The station didn't have a name. The actual living space inside was relatively small and could fit two dozen people at most, comfortably. Its docking bays were big enough to handle space-faring ships. Its obsidian exterior bristled with top-of-the-line, military-grade stealth technology from Terra. At the top level of the station, a man sat behind a desk. He had his feet up on the desk, wearing stylish if informal shoes, jeans, a plain blue t-shirt, and a sports jacket. He had many names, but his current employers knew him only as Mr. Hastings. A large bank of windows dominated the westward-facing wall of the room. The northern and southern walls were lined with bookshelves that groaned with books. Bibliophilia was one of the few vices he allowed himself and the delight he felt at finding what appeared to be the first edition of Nietzche's works still filling him. He turned the book over in his hands, admiring its cover and feeling the weight and the heft of it- and trying to fi
