The place looked like a smuggler’s fever dream of comfort, half-forgotten grotto, half surgical den. Stone walls, worn smooth by time or tools, were stitched with roots twitching in the stale air.
The scent hit first: wet rock, old rags, and the tang of overworked machinery. Somewhere inside the walls, fans spun with a low mechanical purr, a pulse not mine, but steady enough to borrow.
The center held a table that didn’t belong. Probably ripped from a starship wreck, melted struts, fracture lines, battle scars etched in steel. Around it, scavenged furniture leaned like drunks at closing hour.
I’d seen worse in the last few days. This was practically luxury.
My rescuers stood in the center like they owned the wreckage.
Under proper lighting, the man looked carved from purpose, eyes like chips of ice, cropped dark hair peppered with grey, and that predator stillness in his posture, the kind that didn't need to raise its voice to make you bleed.
Beside him, the woman had a storm bottled beneath her skin. She watched me like I was a lock she meant to pick. Said something low to him, but I caught the word “prince.”
Still running with that joke.
The man smirked. “Ah, our prince arrives.”
I tilted my head. “Prince, huh? Do I get a crown, or just the execution?”
The woman snorted. “No crown. Just questions. And we ask them.”
The man folded his arms, voice casual but lined with barbs. “Valcor’s little pet project, has a twist. He didn’t just stick hardware in you. There’s a hook deeper. Something dangerous.”
My fingers found the amulet at my neck, cold, felt familiar for something I didn’t have till now. “And you can help?”
She shrugged. “Depends. Are you good at following instructions?”
“Names first,” I said. “Feels like I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here.”
The man chuckled. “Aedan. She’s Vex. Don’t get comfortable. We haven’t decided if we’re keeping you yet.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And the device?”
“Tricky business. It’s not just hardware. It comes with a neurohack protocol embedded in your mind console. Rip it out wrong, and...” He snapped his fingers with a pop, like a bubble bursting.
A playful whisper cut in my mind. “Parasite routine detected. Module purge in progress.” Static danced across my thoughts for a heartbeat. Then, silence.
I let a grin tug at the corner of my mouth. “Too late. Already purged.”
Aedan and Vex exchanged a look, weighing whether I was a fool or a wildcard. “Purged?” Vex’s voice sharpened. “You’re sure?”
“Clean sweep,” I said. “It’s wiped.”
A moment’s pause, then a voice rasped out of the shadows. “Is that so?”
He stepped out, tall, wiry, stitched together from scraps and soot. A coat made from dead uniforms, eyes too sharp, hands fidgeting with a pack of ember vials. His face was a battlefield of old burns and regrets. Something about him set my nerves on edge.
Vex gestured to me. “He says he did it himself.”
The man’s crooked smile barely moved. “Interesting,” he muttered. He flipped open a case with a snap of his wrist, revealing a set of gleaming tools. He pointed to a couch that looked like it had survived three wars and a bar fight.
“Sit,” he commanded.
I didn’t like his tone, but I sat anyway. He worked fast, cold pads on my temple, humming device against my skull. The sensation was like insects crawling inside my head.
Then a grunt. “He’s right. Routine’s gone.”
Aedan let out a low whistle. “By the divines… you really are something, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “So, what now?”
Vex leaned in, her tone suddenly hushed. “We cut the device out before Valcor gets resourceful. If he’s nearby, he can still track and control you through the Neurolink. The amulet muffles it, but not perfectly.”
Aedan frowned. “Why hasn’t he used it already? He could’ve made you dance.”
I met his gaze. “The interface is busted. Couldn’t get a signal through.”
Vex cocked her head. “Lucky, but can it be fixed?”
The medic, if that’s what he was, shrugged. “Not with what we’ve got here. You need a real med pod. The kind we can’t afford.”
He glanced at me with a smirk that suggested he enjoyed this too much. “I’ll need to sedate you for the extraction.”
I shook my head. “No more blackouts.”
“Suit yourself,” His grin widened. “But you’ll regret it.”
“I can dull your pain receptors… but it won’t be pleasant, master.”
I answered aloud. “I’ll bear it.”
He led me into a side chamber that felt like a tomb wrapped in foil. The walls were layered in cloth and insulation, scrawled with glyphs that pulsed faintly under grime and soot. The bed was barely that, thin pad over rusted springs.
I lay down. Shirt off. Breath steady.
Then the blade touched spine, and everything else ceased to matter.
Arvie whispered, “Suppressing pain now.”
Didn’t help much.
A sharp pain lanced through me, a sensation like someone dragging a rake through my nerves, clawing up from the base of my skull. It was like having my soul slowly pulled out, piece by piece.
I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezed shut, as the medic worked. Time stretched into eternity. The darkness behind my eyelids swirled with colors I couldn’t name. Sweat slicked my skin, my fingers digging into the thin mattress.
Then, a final, searing pain flared bright enough to make me gasp. “Done,” the medic announced. He applied a cold salve to the fresh scar. The chill spread over the wound, numbing it, and I felt the burn ebb away, leaving only a dull ache.
I lay there, breathing heavy. Arvie chimed in softly, “That seemed… unpleasant. Wish I could help more.”
“You did your best, Arvie.”
Vex appeared at the doorway, holding a set of dark clothes. “Here,” she said, tossing them onto the bed. “Put these on.”
I reached for the garments. The fabric felt smooth, light, but strong, with a faint electric charge running through it. As I slipped them on, the material shifted, molding itself around me, automatically adjusting to fit my body like a second skin.
Arvie drawled. “Ahh, standard galactic garments. Luxury in the gutters. How quaint.”
I stepped out. Aedan and Vex were waiting, eyes appraising, as I took a seat between them.
Aedan leaned forward. “We can help each other. There’s something we need. Valuable. Lost in an infested zone. Needs someone who doesn’t choke on poison. Can’t bring gear, either.”
“Translation: Please die for us, but do it stylishly and without tools. Very generous offer.” Arvie scoffed.
I chuckled. “And what’s in it for me?”
Vex tilted her head, smirking. “Clearly you need help, Neurolink’s fried for starters. We’ve got fixes, resources, intel, people. The useful stuff.”
Aedan chimed in. “We know where to find a facility with proper medical pod. What else would you want?”
I hesitated. “Well, directorate scooped my gear, satchel, plasma gun. But more important, there was a relic in that satchel.”
Vex’s eyebrows rose. “A relic, you say?”
I nodded, then added, “There’s more. I told the head of directorate, Larek, about two survivors in a bunker. Just before we were taken. He was captured too. I need to know what happened.”
That caught their attention. “Larek?” Vex repeated.
“Yes,” I said, meeting their gaze. “I want to know if the survivors were rescued from the bunker. And I want to know what happened to Larek. If we can, I’d like to help him.”
Aedan’s face turned cold with thought. “Larek… We know him. This is grave news.”
He tapped the side of his temple. “I’ll reach out. See what I can dig up.”
I nodded. “Go ahead. Show off that working NeuroLink.”
He smirked, already turning. “Of course, let’s fix yours.”
He gestured toward a darkened hall. “Come on. We’ll show you to your quarters.”
I followed, a dull ache riding my spine, but beneath it, something stirred, something almost like purpose, a rekindled purpose in the shadowed depths of this strange world.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl2QUY2fXqJ
