The walk to the docks took fifteen minutes.

  Fifteen minutes through filthy, narrow alleys that stank of garbage, piss, and burnt grease.

  We pushed past locals wrapped up in their usual nightly bullshit—vendors hawking questionable street food, workers bitching about their shifts, and some shady deal going down in a corner.

  Draxis Reach was a city of shadows and chrome. A dump with neon lights.

  Buildings crammed together like they were held up by spite.

  Signs flickered overhead, some half-dead, some buzzing like they were ready to explode.

  The pavement was cracked, soaked in oil, spilled booze, and God knows what else.

  Maps were useless here.

  You didn’t navigate by streets. You navigated by what hadn’t been torn down yet.

  A half-ripped holo-poster, a neon-lit shrine, the endless shouting spilling out of bars.

  We passed them one by one, moving like we belonged here.

  Or at least like we weren’t worth stopping.

  We rounded the final corner, and there she was—

  The Valkyrion.

  Sleek. Sharp.

  Way too clean for this shithole.

  She stuck out like a wolf in a pen full of sickly sheep, parked between battered freighters and rusted-out haulers that looked one bad takeoff away from breaking apart midair.

  Her dark hull caught the dim bay lights, gleaming like a knife ready to gut someone.

  Zara stopped, eyes widening as she took her in.

  “So,” she said slowly, gaze never leaving the Valkyrion, “where exactly does a guy like you come by a ship like that?”

  I let her question hang. Smirked. Let her take it in a little longer.

  “Guess I got lucky.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, one eyebrow arched. “I’m serious. That’s not some beat-up freighter you cobbled together in a junkyard. It’s Terran Navy—high-grade. The kind of ship you don’t see outside military space, let alone flying solo. So, how does a merc like you end up with something like that?”

  I sighed, leaning back against the hull. “Fine. You want the story? I used to be with the TRNC. A commander, actually.”

  She blinked.

  “You? A Navy man?”

  “Not the easiest thing to believe, I know.” I shrugged.

  “Back then, I thought I was on the right side. Thought I was actually helping people.”

  Zara’s expression shifted.

  Curiosity fading into something more guarded.

  “And what changed?”

  “There comes a point,” I said, keeping my voice even, “where you realize the people giving the orders might be worse than the people you’ve been hunting down.”

  Zara went quiet.

  The silence stretched.

  She was waiting.

  I could see the look in her eyes—she wanted the whole story.

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  I wasn’t about to lay it all out.

  Honestly? It was simpler than that.

  Yeah, sure, I’d defied orders, gone rogue, stolen a ship.

  But in reality?

  The decisions I made were for a game character.

  I didn’t care about morality.

  Being a merc, a pirate, a bounty hunter was just more fun.

  “Let’s just say… I got tired of doing things their way,” I added, glancing past her. “When they handed down orders to take out certain targets, I realized I was done.”

  “Targets like Astra?” she asked, her voice softer now.

  I nodded.

  I’d almost forgotten—she was the turning point.

  Pull the trigger, complete the mission, and stay Navy.

  Or—

  Aid and abet a high-value fugitive, violate direct orders, and get slapped with a dishonorable discharge, a court-martial, and a lifetime bounty.

  Guess which one I picked.

  “The Republic wanted her dead. Said she was a threat, digging into things they didn’t want anyone knowing. They made it sound like she was just another enemy. But I met her. I saw the truth, and couldn’t go through with it.”

  “So, what?”

  She leaned forward.

  “You just walked out? Stole a Republic-class ship and disappeared?”

  I flashed a grin.

  “Pretty much.”

  I patted the hull.

  “The Valkyrion—that’s my ship. Top-tier Republic tech, fastest drives in the galaxy, hull tough enough to survive anything those bastards threw at me.”

  Zara’s gaze lingered on me.

  The skepticism faded—

  Replaced by something closer to respect.

  “So… you’re not just some merc after all.”

  “Glad you’re finally catching on.”

  She shot me a look—half intrigued, half exasperated—before stepping in beside me as I led her up the ramp.

  The Valkyrion hummed beneath my feet as we stepped inside.

  The lights flickered to life.

  Zara’s eyes roamed over the ship—

  Pristine control panels. Sleek corridors. Weapons racked along the walls.

  “Not exactly what you’d expect from a ‘merc,’ huh?” I said, catching her gaze as it lingered on the advanced tech.

  “Not exactly what you’d expect from a ‘merc,’ huh?” I smirked.

  She muttered something under her breath.

  Before she could respond—

  Ares’s voice cut in, with a hint of urgency.

  “Commander, we’ve got incoming. Cartel-aligned forces, closing in from orbit.”

  I stopped, holding Zara’s gaze for a split second.

  "Who?"

  “The Void Serpents You might recall their interest in us back in the Halvorr Belt?”

  Ah, hell.

  "So they followed us here," I muttered, glancing at Zara.

  Her expression darkened. "Pirates? What, are they just everywhere now?"

  “Pretty much,” I replied, making my way to the cockpit with Zara close behind. “They were already eyeing us back in Halvorr. Guess they weren’t satisfied with just a scan.”

  We reached the cockpit.

  Zara’s gaze darted to the control displays, eyes narrowing as the incoming ships appeared on-screen.

  The Void Serpents were fast, converging on Draxis Reach like a pack of hungry wolves.

  Outside, the docks were already shifting. People were running for cover, slipping into their ships, hunkering down.

  A voice crackled through the city’s speakers, sharp and unfriendly:

  "All flights grounded. No take-offs until further notice. Non-compliance will be dealt with as hostility."

  Zara’s face paled. “They’re not playing around.”

  I gave her a wink, leaning back in the pilot’s chair. “Bad for them, then.”

  She didn’t appreciate that. Her arms crossed tight as she stared at the display.

  "The Void Serpents… aren’t they the ones with ties to the Black Nebula?"

  I nodded, eyes on the display. “They used to run slaves, drugs, anything of value for the cartel, but now they’re practically a branch of it. They’re ruthless and don’t leave loose ends. If they think they’ll find the dust here, they’ll tear this port apart to get to it.”

  “Commander,” Ares interjected, “I’m calculating potential outcomes. We may have a chance to break orbit undetected, though it will require precise timing.”

  Zara’s eyebrow shot up. “Precise timing? That doesn’t exactly sound foolproof.”

  "It’s not," I admitted. "But there’s always a backup plan. We’ve got a directional EMP. Hit it at the right moment, and it’ll scramble anything electronic in its path—comms, sensors, tracking. Won’t cover the whole port, but it’ll buy us a window."

  “A bold strategy, Commander.” Ares chimed in. “Effective, though slightly risky. Proximity is essential; any further than a few hundred meters, and they’ll only experience signal interference. But within range, their systems will scramble.”

  I adjusted the controls.

  “So we wait until they’re practically breathing down our necks. Once they’re close enough to initiate boarding checks, we fire the EMP.”

  Zara tensed. "And if they catch on before that?"

  "Then we improvise," I replied, smirking. "One shot at this. Stay sharp."

  She nodded, gaze fixed on the displays.

  The Void Serpents kept closing in.

  The seconds felt heavy, like our window of escape was shrinking right in front of us.

  A new voice crackled through the ship’s comms.

  "Unregistered vessel, this is Captain Jorek of the Void Serpents. Power down and prepare for boarding. Cooperate, and we may let you live."

  I sighed, pressing the comms button.

  "Hey, wanna hear a joke?"

  A beat of silence.

  "...Excuse me?"

  "You. Trying to rob me."

  A gravelly chuckle came through the speakers. "Har har. Funny man. Offer your cargo as tribute, or die."

  I leaned back, considering. "Tribute? Sure. How about half a granola bar and a button I found in my pocket?"

  Another silence.

  Finally—

  "You think this is a game?" Jorek growled.

  "I mean, yeah. Kind of."

  Zara groaned, rubbing her temples. "I hate that I’m relying on you right now."

  Jorek’s voice turned sharper. "Last chance. Tribute, or we rip your ship apart."

  I muted the mic and looked at Ares.

  "Ares, how’s that EMP looking?"

  "Charged and ready, Commander. Just waiting on your command."

  I grinned.

  "Good. Let’s make them work for it."