The Quiet Before the Storm
The Red Radiant's crew moved under the ghostlights of Outpost Korda, sticking to the broken catwalks and shattered plazas.
Ahead of them rose the command tower:
a crumbling blade of steel and stone, draped in the faded banners of the Velvaran Republic.
Once, this outpost had been a beacon for lost travelers.
Now it was just a dying ember, suffocated by unseen hands.
⸻
"We go quiet," Kaelen murmured, his voice like a knife sliding through the shadows.
"No alarms. No civilians hurt."
"And if alarms happen…?" Zaraya whispered, cosmic energy humming faintly around her.
"Then we hit harder," Kaelen said simply.
Jaxen grinned tightly, spinning one of his dual blasters around his finger.
"Man, you guys are way too serious," he muttered.
"You gotta relax. Maybe after we save the doctor we can hit the food stalls?
Heard they sell the best fried glow-worms this side of the Nebula Trenches."
Zaraya snickered.
Kaelen said nothing, but the thought almost made him start salivating.
But his eyes never stopped scanning the dark.
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The Discovery
They slipped into the outer sectors of the tower —
past rusted security drones,
through halls rotting from neglect.
In the heart of the tower, they found it:
The hidden archives.
Not Republic records.
Not public logs.
But hidden vaults filled with:
• Cult relics.
• Forbidden texts.
• Transaction records — signed by Admiral Derven Korr, governor of Korda.
"The admiral's been selling out his own people," Jaxen said, low and angry.
"Selling refugees… experiments… secrets."
Kaelen's hand hovered over his sword hilt.
Zaraya's fists crackled with cosmic pulse.
And in the center of it all:
A holo-projection.
A contract.
Signed by the Admiral…
and the emblem of the Cult branded beneath it.
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The Doctor's Location
Leyla Dran — the doctor they needed —
was being kept in the old control bastion, locked under armed guard.
Not to protect her.
To keep her from speaking.
Jaxen cursed softly, checking the schematics.
"Getting to her's gonna be a nightmare," he said.
Zaraya smirked.
"Nightmares are just dreams with better lighting."
Kaelen finally spoke.
"We strike now.
Split their forces.
Extract the doctor before the cult's next shipment arrives."
"Shipment?" Zaraya echoed, frowning.
Kaelen nodded.
"Soul harvesters.
They're coming for the colony itself."
Silence fell over them like a cold shroud.
There was no time left.
⸻
The Plan
• Zaraya would punch through the west corridor — a direct assault to draw attention.
• Kaelen would shadowstep through the ventilation shafts, assassinating key guards.
• Jaxen would hack the command center to trigger emergency lockdowns — splitting the garrison.
Then — when the defenses collapsed —
they would hit the bastion and rescue the doctor.
Simple.
Brutal.
Necessary.
⸻
Hidden Eyes
But not far away, in the rotting upper balconies,
Nexo Korr — the Black Circuit enforcer — watched.
And he wasn't alone anymore.
Two more Black Circuit bounty hunters lurked in the dark, weapons primed,
waiting for the perfect moment to reclaim their stolen prize.
Jaxen Rhane.
And if they had to kill Zaraya and Kaelen to get him?
So be it.
The Matron's will was clear:
"Retrieve the Quantum Anchor Core.
Leave no witnesses."