Chapter One: Twenty-Three Percent

His uniform was so clean it looked as though it had never touched the air of Helios-9. Custom neural gloves hung from his belt. "Voss," Kellan called. "Don't rush off." Leon stopped. Kellan tossed a coin-like chip at his feet. It was a low-grade meal voucher for the miners' cafeteria. "Take it. I hear you're going back to the pits. Might as well get used to the food." Muted laughter rose around them. Leon looked at the voucher and did not bend. Kellan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You know what the funniest part is? People like you always think effort can change fate. Mechs don't care about effort. War doesn't care about dreams. Sync rate is bloodline, talent, admission. You cannot even touch the gate." Leon finally looked at him.