The low hum of the ship's engines pulsed gently in the background, barely audible beneath the muted lights of their quarters. The air was sharp with recycled oxygen and the faint metallic tang of cleaning solution. Everyone had gathered, sprawled across bunks, leaning against walls or sitting cross-legged on the floor, a rare moment of stillness shared by the strange group fate had stitched together.
Kaela sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed, her mismatched eyes sharp.
"It's time we talk about Xelthora."
Alenya was the one who had called the meeting, and now she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, her voice steady.
"I know this isn't exactly a family picnic, but… we should team up. We've seen what's out there. On our own, we're targets. Together, we have a better shot."
Zii snorted lightly. "Look at us—forming alliances like noble houses."
Kaela ignored him, lifting her gaze.
"Xelthora's a problem," she said. "More than just the monsters or the terrain. The planet itself—no records, no old survey data, nothing on the open net. The GCA (Galactic Core Alliance) scrubbed every trace of it. That tells me it's either classified or cursed. Maybe both. The only thing we know about it is that it was once a warzone."
She shifted, voice lowering.
"And then there's the number of mercenaries. Five ships' worth? That's not a recovery team—that's a full-scale raid. Everyone's hoping for weapons, lost cultivation relics, minerals—whatever got left behind during the last war."
Boro tilted his head. "So what's the problem?"
Kaela looked at him. "The problem is if we find something truly valuable, we can't store it. The voidbanks don't have access out here. That means you carry it on you—guard it, bleed for it, maybe even kill for it—until extraction."
Alenya's eyes narrowed. "Which means people will come for you. Other crews. Solo hunters. Maybe even people in your own team."
"Exactly," Kaela said. "This won't be a fair exploration. It'll be a bloodbath."
Vess folded her arms, posture sharp and soldier-like. "Then we should think about an exit strategy now."
Rhain looked over, eyes thoughtful.
"Escape?" he asked.
Vess nodded. "Do you really think the shuttles will stick around? This isn't a vacation cruise. Those cruisers are income machines. They have routes, rotations, security gigs. They're not going to wait indefinitely while hundreds of mercs crawl around a haunted warzone."
Zii raised an eyebrow. "So what? You think they'll leave us stranded?"
"I think that's part of the plan," Vess said flatly. "And I think it's intentional. Look—this is a battlefield, not a base camp. If the cruisers stay in orbit, they become a safe zone. Somewhere people can just run back to and hide out until it's all over. That's a liability."
Kaela's eyes narrowed. "So they'll force us to stay on the ground."
"Exactly," Vess said. "No retreat. No hiding. You go in, and you survive—or you don't. The EAC isn't wasting time or resources babysitting anyone."
Boro looked between them. "So… we need a ship?"
Vess gave a small nod. "Priority one: find a vessel. This was a war zone—there's bound to be wrecks. Derelicts. Dead transports. As long as the reactor core isn't dust, I can get one flying."
"Assuming no one else beats us to it," Kaela muttered.
Zii raised a hand lazily. "Speaking of priorities—what about loot? I like survival as much as the next liquid genius, but if we're sticking together, we need rules. What we take, what we split."
Kaela looked around. "Until we find it, there's no point arguing about numbers. But I agree—we make sure everyone walks away with something. That's the only way this works."
Zii made a thoughtful noise but didn't argue.
Alenya cracked her knuckles. "In the meantime, we train. Cultivate. If someone offers a duel, take it. Every edge we sharpen now will keep us alive later."
Rhain, still leaning in the corner, nodded slowly. "I'll help."
Kaela shifted her weight forward. "And if we're smart, we start buying up Qi crystals now. Quietly. From anyone selling. If we wait too long, they'll double the price or disappear entirely."
Boro blinked. "We're going shopping?"
Kaela smirked. "If shopping means bribing smugglers in the cargo bay and trading favors with blood-soaked assassins—yes."
Vess chuckled. "Welcome to the world of prep-work. No one gets rich on strength alone."
Rhain finally spoke again. "We build now. Skill, supplies, bonds. Because when we land… everything changes."
A quiet fell over them then—not awkward, but heavy. Weighted with the reality of what lay ahead.
A planet erased from history.
A war site soaked in Qi and death.
And a mission with no clean exit.
But for the first time, Kaela felt the shift—the tiniest flicker of trust. Not blind faith. Not loyalty.
But the beginning of something real.
They didn't need to say it.
They would watch each other's backs.
And bleed together, if they had to.
The group sat scattered across the bunks, the air thick with silent agreement and unspoken tension. No one liked the idea of being stranded. But at least now they had a plan.
Kaela leaned back against the wall, arms folded, her pistols resting beside her. The metal still gleamed, unused, fresh out of the forge from when she first took them from that weapons store in Veyron.
Vess's gaze flicked to them with interest.
"They're clean," she said, nodding toward the pistols. "Too clean."
Kaela raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean they're new. Factory defaults. No pressure regulators, no recoil sync, and definitely no custom pulse modulator." Vess shifted her weight. "You've got good bones there, but they need teeth. Want 'em to hold up against cultivators? You'll need more than a flashy muzzle."
Kaela frowned, thinking. "What would you suggest?"
"Reinforce the chambers for power cycling, replace the base grips with shock-dampeners, and slot in a plasma retainer coil. Won't drain the cells as fast. Could help with tight fights when you're saving every shot."
Kaela gave a half-smile. "I'll think about it."
"Think fast," Vess replied. "We don't get a redo once we drop."
Across the room, Rhain, who had been quiet as usual, finally spoke. His voice, calm and steady, cut through the air like drawn steel.
"Upgrades are important," he said. "But you're all forgetting something."
Everyone looked up.
"Weapons don't matter if your body breaks before the fight ends."
Zii scoffed. "Are you suggesting we meditate the monsters to death?"
Rhain didn't smile. "I'm saying we'll need more medical supplies. Real ones. Burn patches. Regen capsules. Qi recovery injectors. We won't get second chances."
Boro nodded, surprisingly serious. "We've only got a few medkits between us."
"Then we need to find a vendor," Rhain continued. "Someone quiet, maybe below the deck. There's always someone selling painkillers and stim-foam, even on clean ships like this."
Kaela exhaled slowly. "You're not wrong."
"Rest and recovery will matter more than any weapon," Rhain said. "You can't swing a sword if your tendons are torn."
"Or shoot if your ribs are cracked," Vess added. "He's right. We'll need a steady supply. The question is—who do we trust to get it from?"
"Not many people," Alenya muttered. "But we'll find someone. We've got time."
Zii tapped a finger against his temple. "And we should still stock tradables. Food bricks, energy capsules, utility packs—anything that's currency outside of credits."
Kaela's eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful. "Then we make a list. Upgrades, supplies, backup comms… even if we don't get it all, we need to know what we're missing."
Rhain nodded once. "Good. Because missing one thing down there could mean missing everything."
There was a long silence after that.
Then Alenya cracked her knuckles. "I'll start looking through the vendor decks in the morning. We split into teams, right? Easier that way."
Kaela nodded slowly, her eyes drifting back to her pistols.
Too clean.
That wouldn't last long.