The hangar bay of Rust City was a cathedral of violence, The air tasted of ozone, hydraulic fluid, and the metallic tang of aged blood. It was a place where the galaxy's dregs rubbed shoulders with its dregs of the universe, all looking for a way to make a credit or a blade.
Kael stood by the rover, a behemoth of reinforced steel and sloth-like scales from some high-level beast Alaric had "negotiated" (read: intimidated) into selling. The mechanic, four-armed and blue-skinned alien from the Mars colony, They were arguing over the thermal coupling.
"ILook, you grey-skinned freak," Alaric snapped, slamming a wrench onto the rover's hull. "I don't care if the mana-engine came from the Neptune shipyards! The thermal coupling is cracked! Do I look like I want to explode in the middle of the Dead Zone?"
"I don't care about your Neptune shipyards," Alaric shot back, not checking the his wrist computer. "I care about the thermal coupling! If this bucket explodes, we all die!"
Kael tuned them out. He leaned against the rover, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched the shadows dance across the hangar floor. He could feel them—the wary, predatory. The Frontier was a hunting ground, but here, in the heart of civilization, the prey was easy to find.
A group of mercenaries, boisterous and drunk, stumbled out of a bar near the loading ramp. They were celebrating a successful raid on a rival gang.
"Hey!" one of them shouted, pointing a bottle at Kael. "Look at the boots! Fancy motherfucker! You hard!"
Kael's lip curled. He didn't turn. He simply let his drop of presence settle—the gravity in the room shifting, the subtle pressure that made the air thick.
"Fancy enough to rob you blind," Kael said, his voice smooth.
"What?" the mercenary blinked, swaying slightly. He looked around. "Who said that?"
The mercenary looked back at Kael. He squinted, then his eyes went wide. "Holy shit... it think he r-"
"Your mother," Kael interrupted. "She was a sow. And she had a mustache."
The mercenary looked confused. "What?"
Kael sighed. "Never mind."
He turned to Sable. "Navigator. Status."
Sable was checking the rover's console. "She's a beast. Beast-kin tech. Should handle the rough terrain."
"Can it handle the void?" Kael asked.
"Can it handle anything?" Sable countered. "I once flew a skiff through a collapsing star system."
"Good," Kael said. "Because we're driving into hell."
He climbed into the passenger seat. Sable slid into the driver's side. Morgan took the back, typing furiously on her tablet.
"Satellite uplink established," Morgan announced. "I'm tapping into the orbital net."
"Show me," Kael ordered.
A holographic display flickered to life above the dashboard. It showed the view from low orbit. Earth was a blue marble in the distance, but the sky was crowded.
The solar system was a highway.
Freighters—bulky, ugly things with welding marks and shield generators—drifted between the planet. But there were others. Sleek yachts with shimmering hulls. Military cruisers bearing the insignia of the Earth Federation.
"There's a lot of traffic," Alaric muttered, climbing into the back seat. "It's like a goddamn freeway out there."
"The Galactic Summit is next week," Morgan explained. "Every species with a pulse is heading to Earth. The Elves, Dwarves, the fucking Cat-People from Proxima Centauri."
"Cat-People?" Alaric asked.
"Felinid beast-kin," Morgan clarified. "They're new. Just got warp drive last century. Their emperor is looking to establish trade routes."
Kael watched the display. He saw a massive ship—elegant, silver, with solar sails that looked like dragon wings—entering high orbit.
"What's that?"
Morgan zoomed in. "That's the Starlight Drifter. Private yacht. Registered out of... Neptune. Owned by the Vane Consortium."
Kael's eyes narrowed. He saw the crest on the hull—a stylized 'V' intertwined with a serpent. The Vane family.
"Julius Vane," Kael said. The bully he had crippled at the academy. He was a bug to be crushed.
"His family has deep pockets," Alaric noted. "The Vanes are major players in the interplanetary trade. They control the shipping lanes between Earth and Mars."
"They control nothing," Kael said. "They're just middlemen with fancy ships."
He looked at Sable. "Get us moving. I want to see the stars."
Sable grinned, gunning the engine. "Hold onto your tits, boys. It's going to be a b-bumpy ride."
The rover lurched forward, climbing the exit ramp. As they broke at the atmosphere, the gravity shifted, and Kael felt his void in his stomach. He glanced out the window. The stars were streaking past. They were leaving Earth behind.
"Destination?" Sable asked, her voice cutting through the roar of the engine.
"Mars," Kael said. "New Shanghai."
"The red planet," Sable mused. "I heard the noodles are good."
"The noodles are radioactive," Alaric muttered. "Everything on Mars is radioactive. The soil is red because of the high iron content."
"Good thing I'm hungry," Kael said. He leaned back, closing his eyes. "Wake me when we get there."
As the rover shot into the black, Kael felt the strange sensation. He was being watched. He opened his mind's eye. He saw a figure standing on the edge of the crater, watching them leave. It was cloaked in shadow.
Farewell, little brother, a voice whispered in his mind. Don't forget to write.
Kael smirked. I never forget, sister. I'm coming for you.