The First Strike
At nightfall, the Red Radiant's crew moved.
The outpost's neon signs flickered uncertainly as alarms blared through the corridors.
Explosions rocked the far wings — Zaraya's entry point.
• She punched through blast doors with cosmic-enhanced fists, scattering stunned guards like toys.
• She laughed as she fought, a rolling wave of unstoppable force — a storm wrapped in a grin.
"Come on! Is this it?" she shouted, ducking a plasma bolt and hurling a cult agent through a reinforced wall.
The defenders panicked.
And in the confusion—
Kaelen struck.
From the shadows he moved, silent and merciless:
• Blades of voidlight flashed, cutting down key officers before alarms could be fully triggered.
• Fear Aura spilled into the air, freezing weaker soldiers where they stood — eyes wide, bodies locked in terror.
Kaelen was a ghost.
A whisper of death.
A nightmare incarnate.
⸻
Jaxen's Role
Meanwhile, in the control tower's heart, Jaxen Rhane hacked the security systems.
Sweat beaded his brow as he overloaded lockouts and fried defense drones.
"Almost there… come on, baby… just another firewall…"
Behind him, heavy footsteps pounded closer —
Republic guards, responding to the internal breach.
Jaxen spun, twin blasters flashing:
• Short, precise bursts — stunning, disarming, outmaneuvering.
• Not trying to kill unless he had to.
He wasn't Zaraya.
He wasn't Kaelen.
But he was damn good in his own way.
And the Red Radiant needed him.
⸻
The Bastion Assault
With the outpost reeling, the crew converged on the old control bastion.
The doctor — Veyla Dran — was shackled inside, guarded by a platoon of corrupted Republic soldiers and two cult "advisors" cloaked in void-silk.
Zaraya and Kaelen didn't hesitate.
And for the first time,
Jaxen Rhane watched them fight all out.
• Zaraya moved like a living starburst —
punches detonating shockwaves, slamming foes into craters of cracked metal and dust.
Her laughter echoed through the chaos.
• Kaelen became the storm's shadow —
teleporting through flickers of dark, slicing through void-priests and shield bearers like a blade through silk.
His fear aura thickened — even the strongest cult warriors flinched.
It was not a battle.
It was a massacre.
Jaxen's jaw dropped as he ducked behind a fallen girder.
"Holy.
Actual.
Void."
For the first time in years —
he felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest:
Relief.
Maybe he wasn't doomed after all.
Maybe…
maybe he had finally found people strong enough to actually fight fate.
⸻
The Rescue
They reached the doctor.
Veyla Dran — disheveled, bloodied, but alive — gasped as Zaraya ripped the restraints from the walls.
"You're not with the admiral…" she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the chaos unfolding.
"Nope," Zaraya said brightly. "We're the idiots who came to rescue you."
Kaelen touched her shoulder briefly, steadying her.
"Can you walk?"
The doctor nodded shakily.
"Good. Move."
They charged back toward the Red Radiant's hangar —
victory almost within reach—
⸻
The Black Circuit Strikes
—until a pulse of black fire exploded across the escape corridor.
From the smoke emerged:
• Nexo Korr,
• and two more Black Circuit bounty hunters: a cyber-giant with burning arms and a lithe assassin wired with blink-implants.
Nexo's voice crackled over the open comms:
"You think you can run, Runner?"
"You think you can hide behind these fools?"
"We are the Black Circuit.
We do not forget."
Jaxen cursed, shoving the doctor behind a blast door for cover.
Zaraya turned to him, brow raised.
"Friends of yours?" she asked lightly.
Jaxen hesitated.
"Long story," he muttered, drawing his blasters.
Kaelen stepped in front of them both, sword rising in a slow, deadly arc.
"Later," he said.
"Fight now."
⸻
The Second Battle: Loyalty Forged
The corridor became a war zone:
• Zaraya launched herself at the cyber-giant, fists shattering reinforced armor plates with every blow.
• Kaelen danced through the blink-assassin's attacks, countering with surgical strikes of void-imbued precision.
• Jaxen laid down cover fire, moving faster than thought thanks to his neural augments —
finally fighting without running.
He didn't think.
He didn't second-guess.
He fought because they fought beside him.
Because in that moment —
for the first time in too long —
he wasn't just running for himself.
He was running with them.
For them.
⸻
The Escape
With a final coordinated assault, the Black Circuit hunters were overwhelmed —
Nexo wounded and forced to retreat into the collapsing corridors.
The crew blasted through the final defenses and stormed into the Red Radiant.
Engines flaring,
pulse cannons roaring,
the ship tore free from Outpost Korda's gravity well —
leaving behind only broken wreckage and whispered legends.
⸻
Aftermath
Inside the Red Radiant's common room, the crew caught their breath.
Kaelen cleaned his blade methodically.
Zaraya sprawled across a bench, still grinning, arms behind her head.
Jaxen sat quietly at the edge, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his blasters.
Finally, Zaraya spoke:
"You okay, Flyboy?"
Jaxen looked up.
For once, no joke.
Just a crooked, tired smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think I am."
He glanced at Kaelen — silent and cold but steady —
and Zaraya — reckless, brilliant, unstoppable.
And for the first time in his chaotic life…
Jaxen Rhane believed he might have found something worth dying for.
Or better yet — something worth living for
The First Strike
At nightfall, the Red Radiant's crew moved.
The outpost's neon signs flickered uncertainly as alarms blared through the corridors.
Explosions rocked the far wings — Zaraya's entry point.
• She punched through blast doors with cosmic-enhanced fists, scattering stunned guards like toys.
• She laughed as she fought, a rolling wave of unstoppable force — a storm wrapped in a grin.
"Come on! Is this it?" she shouted, ducking a plasma bolt and hurling a cult agent through a reinforced wall.
The defenders panicked.
And in the confusion—
Kaelen struck.
From the shadows he moved, silent and merciless:
• Blades of voidlight flashed, cutting down key officers before alarms could be fully triggered.
• Fear Aura spilled into the air, freezing weaker soldiers where they stood — eyes wide, bodies locked in terror.
Kaelen was a ghost.
A whisper of death.
A nightmare incarnate.
⸻
Jaxen's Role
Meanwhile, in the control tower's heart, Jaxen Rhane hacked the security systems.
Sweat beaded his brow as he overloaded lockouts and fried defense drones.
"Almost there… come on, baby… just another firewall…"
Behind him, heavy footsteps pounded closer —
Republic guards, responding to the internal breach.
Jaxen spun, twin blasters flashing:
• Short, precise bursts — stunning, disarming, outmaneuvering.
• Not trying to kill unless he had to.
He wasn't Zaraya.
He wasn't Kaelen.
But he was damn good in his own way.
And the Red Radiant needed him.
⸻
The Bastion Assault
With the outpost reeling, the crew converged on the old control bastion.
The doctor — Veyla Dran — was shackled inside, guarded by a platoon of corrupted Republic soldiers and two cult "advisors" cloaked in void-silk.
Zaraya and Kaelen didn't hesitate.
And for the first time,
Jaxen Rhane watched them fight all out.
• Zaraya moved like a living starburst —
punches detonating shockwaves, slamming foes into craters of cracked metal and dust.
Her laughter echoed through the chaos.
• Kaelen became the storm's shadow —
teleporting through flickers of dark, slicing through void-priests and shield bearers like a blade through silk.
His fear aura thickened — even the strongest cult warriors flinched.
It was not a battle.
It was a massacre.
Jaxen's jaw dropped as he ducked behind a fallen girder.
"Holy.
Actual.
Void."
For the first time in years —
he felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest:
Relief.
Maybe he wasn't doomed after all.
Maybe…
maybe he had finally found people strong enough to actually fight fate.
⸻
The Rescue
They reached the doctor.
Veyla Dran — disheveled, bloodied, but alive — gasped as Zaraya ripped the restraints from the walls.
"You're not with the admiral…" she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the chaos unfolding.
"Nope," Zaraya said brightly. "We're the idiots who came to rescue you."
Kaelen touched her shoulder briefly, steadying her.
"Can you walk?"
The doctor nodded shakily.
"Good. Move."
They charged back toward the Red Radiant's hangar —
victory almost within reach—
⸻
The Black Circuit Strikes
—until a pulse of black fire exploded across the escape corridor.
From the smoke emerged:
• Nexo Korr,
• and two more Black Circuit bounty hunters: a cyber-giant with burning arms and a lithe assassin wired with blink-implants.
Nexo's voice crackled over the open comms:
"You think you can run, Runner?"
"You think you can hide behind these fools?"
"We are the Black Circuit.
We do not forget."
Jaxen cursed, shoving the doctor behind a blast door for cover.
Zaraya turned to him, brow raised.
"Friends of yours?" she asked lightly.
Jaxen hesitated.
"Long story," he muttered, drawing his blasters.
Kaelen stepped in front of them both, sword rising in a slow, deadly arc.
"Later," he said.
"Fight now."
⸻
The Second Battle: Loyalty Forged
The corridor became a war zone:
• Zaraya launched herself at the cyber-giant, fists shattering reinforced armor plates with every blow.
• Kaelen danced through the blink-assassin's attacks, countering with surgical strikes of void-imbued precision.
• Jaxen laid down cover fire, moving faster than thought thanks to his neural augments —
finally fighting without running.
He didn't think.
He didn't second-guess.
He fought because they fought beside him.
Because in that moment —
for the first time in too long —
he wasn't just running for himself.
He was running with them.
For them.
⸻
The Escape
With a final coordinated assault, the Black Circuit hunters were overwhelmed —
Nexo wounded and forced to retreat into the collapsing corridors.
The crew blasted through the final defenses and stormed into the Red Radiant.
Engines flaring,
pulse cannons roaring,
the ship tore free from Outpost Korda's gravity well —
leaving behind only broken wreckage and whispered legends.
⸻
Aftermath
Inside the Red Radiant's common room, the crew caught their breath.
Kaelen cleaned his blade methodically.
Zaraya sprawled across a bench, still grinning, arms behind her head.
Jaxen sat quietly at the edge, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his blasters.
Finally, Zaraya spoke:
"You okay, Flyboy?"
Jaxen looked up.
For once, no joke.
Just a crooked, tired smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think I am."
He glanced at Kaelen — silent and cold but steady —
and Zaraya — reckless, brilliant, unstoppable.
And for the first time in his chaotic life…
Jaxen Rhane believed he might have found something worth dying for.
Or better yet — something worth living for