The group of masked figures—Owl, Cat, Goat, and Badger—had vanished long ago, their eerie silhouettes melting into the crowd like ghosts in the fog. Lukas stared at the cloth bag on the table, holding 20,000 Valer, the metallic clink of coins a nagging reminder of the tempting offer. But he didn't touch it. His eyes were vacant, as if drowning in a storm of swirling thoughts.
He lifted his glass, tilting his head back to drain the last bitter gulp. The sharp sting burned his throat, but it wasn't enough to quiet the questions raging in his mind. The Nightingale, 200,000 Valer—a fortune that could change everything, enough to free Veridell from Valeria's crushing tribute. Yet Lira's words, Ryn's stubborn gaze, and the fervent voices from that secret room echoed like thin blades slicing through the cold armor he'd built around himself. He muttered under his breath, so low only he could hear: "A nightingale can't hunt…"
Lukas stood, shoving his chair back with a dry scrape against the wooden floor. He walked to the bar, tossing a few Valer coins onto the counter in front of the one-eyed bartender. The man gave him a fleeting glance, same indifferent look as always, and nodded without a word. Lukas picked up the bag of 20,000 Valer, feeling its weight in his hand. But instead of keeping it to buy gear like Owl had suggested, he left the tavern, stepping into the dark alleys of Ormuth where neon lights flickered as faint, blurry streaks.
He headed straight for the Ormuth town bank, a rickety building with peeling paint and grimy, fogged-up windows. Inside, an elderly banker with thick bifocals eyed him suspiciously as he slid the cloth bag across the counter. "Deposit all of this into Veridell's account—038687," Lukas said, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. "No receipt needed."
The old man raised an eyebrow, checked the amount, then nodded, tapping a few commands into an ancient computer. "Done, kid. Veridell will have the 20,000 Valer within the hour." Lukas didn't reply. He just turned and walked away, his tall figure fading into the nigh
At a spaceship dock on the western edge of Ormuth, where faint moonlight bathed rusted, aging vessels standing silently against the biting cold wind, the masked group—Owl, Cat, Goat, and the gruff Badger—inspected a small spacecraft, its metal hull scarred from countless long journeys. It was nearly 11:00 p.m. on Orlin-3, but Lukas was still nowhere to be seen. The air among them crackled with restlessness and disappointment.
Badger, broad-shouldered and wearing a honey badger mask, growled and slammed his fist against the ship's hull. "That coward's not coming! Told you so, hah!" His rough, dry voice echoed through the deserted dock.
Owl, the woman in the owl mask, stood with her arms crossed, her eyes glinting through the mask's slits. "Calm down, Badger. I still think he'll show. He's got some grit." Her voice was steady, but a trace of worry slipped through.
Cat flicked his hand with a giggle, his voice soft and teasing. "Oh, I bet that Nightingale's got him all flustered! Such a cold guy… what a shame. I was hoping to have a taste of him." He winked, making Badger's face flush red beneath his mask.
Goat stroked the fake beard dangling from his mask, his gravelly voice like that of a drunken philosopher. "Whatever the case, we can't wait any longer. Curfew on the Zytherya route kicks in after 24 hours, and Valeria's been cracking down hard lately." He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the ship as if calculating something.
Owl sighed, glancing at her worn wristwatch. "Fine. Let's board. If he doesn't show, that's his choice." She gestured, and the group climbed the ramp into the ship's hold. Inside, the cramped space was packed with secured crates and outdated equipment. A scrawny pilot with wild hair and goggles sat at the controls, his trembling hands fumbling over the dashboard.
As the group entered the main cabin, Badger froze, his eyes sweeping the space. "Hold on… something's off." He growled, his hand tightening around the plasma sword hidden in his coat. The pilot turned, his face pale, sweat beading on his forehead, his wide eyes screaming something he couldn't bring himself to say.
A low, icy voice cut through from the pilot's seat, where the glow of the control panel illuminated a tall figure. "Evening. Been waiting long?" Lukas swiveled the chair around, a smirk curling his lips, his deep blue eyes glinting in the dim light. He lounged there, casual as if the ship were his own, one hand resting on the console, the other holding a plasma pistol, his thumb grazing the trigger.
Badger froze, jaw dropping, before letting out a roar. "You… how the hell did you get up here?!" He started forward, but Owl raised a hand to stop him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of intrigue and surprise.
Cat burst out laughing, clapping his hands. "Oh, my stars! I knew this guy wouldn't let me down! But… what about our pilot?" He glanced at the trembling pilot, who could only stammer, "He… he came out of nowhere… I got up here, and he was already there…!"
Goat stroked his fake beard, nodding thoughtfully, his gravelly voice rumbling. "Not bad, kid. But why the change of heart? Thought you were chasing that elusive Nightingale."
Lukas shrugged, his smirk unwavering. "I don't like being left behind. And your little job sounds… more interesting than I expected." He nodded toward the empty cloth bag beside his seat. "Now, spill it. What's the deal with this job? And don't try anything funny."
Owl stepped forward, her eyes gleaming behind her mask. "Welcome aboard. This job's no small fry, but I promise it's worth more than 200,000 Valer. So… what do we call you?" She tilted her head, curious.
Cat piped up, "Yeah, now that you mention it, Owl, we don't even know his name!"
Badger grunted, "Who cares? No guarantee he'll survive this for us to bother remembering."
"I… you can call me…" Lukas paused for a beat, then smirked faintly. "Firewolf. You can call me Firewolf."
"Firewolf? Damn, that's a badass name, kid," Goat said, grinning. "Guess you're Wolf in our crew now."
"Alright, enough chatter," Owl cut in, her voice tinged with urgency. "We take off first, then I'll fill you in on the plan. We've got to clear the Zytherya route before the 24-hour curfew. Valeria's been real strict lately—after that, no one's getting out."
Lukas raised an eyebrow, his finger still grazing the pistol's trigger. "You're that scared of Valeria?" His tone was flat, laced with a hint of mockery, his piercing blue eyes locked on Owl, trying to read her.
Badger growled, slamming his fist against the armrest. "Scared? Hmph, I just don't want to waste energy fighting for no profit! Think you're hot stuff, huh, Firewolf?"
"Enough, Badger," Owl snapped, her masked eyes sharp. "Firewolf, Valeria's not our only problem. The Cold Belt… that's where we're headed. I've got about 50 people there, my crew. Two days ago, we got word a transport ship loaded with ore crashed out there. According to my sources, that haul could fetch millions of Valer."
Lukas's eyes widened, his voice skeptical. "That's a Valeria ship. You think I'm dumb enough to fall for this? You said this job wasn't illegal."
Goat burst out laughing. "All we know is a ship full of ore crashed, Wolf. To folks like us, a downed Valeria ship's no different from any other. Hahaha!"
Badger roared with laughter too. "Goat's right, you naive pup! Valeria's own laws say a crashed ship's fair game for anyone. We don't care if it's theirs or not. So we're in the clear, hah!"
Cat giggled, his voice syrupy. "Our Wolf looks tough but so innocent, Owl!" He waved a hand, winking playfully.
Lukas's icy gaze swept over the group, and he let out a long sigh. "Ha… fine, I'm already in too deep. Might as well go for it. Not like I'm a fan of Valeria anyway."
Owl tilted her head, her eyes glinting behind her mask. "Sounds like you've got a grudge against them too, Firewolf. There'll be other groups after that cargo in the Cold Belt—not Valeria's soldiers, just Outlaws like us. They're after the ore too, and they won't hesitate to kill. But with my 50-strong crew, plus you, I'm confident we can handle it." She paused, her voice lowering. "Your cut? 300,000 Valer if we pull this off. More than that Nightingale, right?"
Badger snorted loudly. "300,000? Owl, you're too generous. This guy hasn't proven a damn thing!"
Cat chimed in, smirking. "Exactly, Owl. Sure, our Wolf's got that… rugged, handsome vibe, but he hasn't done anything yet."
Lukas smirked, his voice steady. "Owl, if you're telling the truth, I'm in. But if there's any funny business, I swear this ship will burn before we reach the Cold Belt."
Goat nodded, stroking his beard. "Kid's not messing around. I like it, Wolf. But watch yourself—the Cold Belt's not just Outlaws. Word is, there's… other things. Old Rippers, relics from the war, no one controlling them, but still active. They're a nightmare for any Outlaw out there."
Lukas leaned back. "I know. Leftovers from the interstellar war 200 years ago, right?"
"Well, look at you, knowing your history," Cat said, leaning against a chair, his tone turning serious. "But there's more—giant, hungry, mutated beasts out there, warped from Valeria's chemical weapon tests. They don't care who you are; they'll rip anything in their territory to shreds."
Owl raised a hand, her voice sharp yet melodic, cutting through. "Enough chatter! We don't have time for ghost stories. Pilot, set the course for the Cold Belt. But first, make a stop at Klythra. I've got some business to handle there."
The trembling pilot nodded frantically. "Y-yes, Owl! Course set for Klythra, then the Cold Belt. Got it!" He hurriedly punched coordinates into the console, the green glow of the screen reflecting off his pale, shaken face. He was clearly still rattled from Lukas's surprise appearance.
Owl smiled, her eyes gleaming behind her mask. "Klythra's a small, friendly planet. Simple folks, growing crops, running small markets—nothing dangerous. Valeria barely bothers with it; they've got a tiny checkpoint, practically forgotten the place. We're stopping to refuel, grab some gear, and I want to visit an old friend before we hit the Cold Belt."
Badger snorted, crossing his arms. "Old friend? Hmph, Owl, you turning this into a joyride? I just want to hit the Cold Belt, grab the ore, and get out!"
Cat giggled, waving a hand. "Oh, Badger, don't be such a grump! Klythra sounds fun, Firewolf! You'll love it—green trees, sweet flowers, and village girls with smiles like sunshine! Nothing like that dump Ormuth!" He winked, his teasing, syrupy voice dripping with mischief.
Goat stroked his beard, nodding. "Klythra's not bad, Wolf. The people are decent, and the market's got good eats—Klythra's honey-glazed bread is top-notch. But Owl's old friend… not exactly fond of strangers. You sure about this, Owl?"
Owl tilted her head, her voice melodic but firm. "My old friend's Joren, a retired engineer from Valeria's military tech division. He knows how to fix ships and build gear to counter those ancient Rippers in the Cold Belt. We're stopping at Klythra to pick up some of his tools and maybe some intel. I'll go over the full plan en route."
Cat burst out laughing. "Oh, Firewolf, loosen up! Klythra might make you wanna retire there!" He clapped his hands, his playful eyes twinkling as he teased the tense Lukas.
Badger huffed loudly. "Loosen up? Hmph, I bet this guy'll stir up trouble before we even leave Klythra. Watch yourself, Wolf—don't let those village girls soften you up!"
Owl gestured to the pilot. "That's enough. Get some rest, all of you. We need to reach Klythra before dawn."
The pilot nodded, hands still trembling but trying to stay composed. "Y-yes, Owl! Klythra coordinates set, landing in four hours!"
Badger flopped into a chair, eyes shutting instantly, his snoring soon rumbling like an old ship's engine. Cat giggled one last time, waving playfully before curling up in a seat, pulling his hood over his face, and drifting off with a lingering smirk. Goat muttered something about Klythra's honey bread, stroking his fake beard as he leaned against a wall, eyes slowly closing. Owl checked the control panel one last time, her masked eyes glinting, then settled into a nearby chair—not sleeping, just quietly watching.
Lukas stayed in the co-pilot's seat, his sharp gaze sweeping the cabin, now filled only with Badger's snores and the soft hum of the engines. For some reason, being on this ship dulled the constant need to stay on guard. The crew was odd, sure, but there was a strange warmth to them. The ship drifted through the endless void, surrounded by dozens of other vessels bustling through space. Every now and then, they passed a Valeria checkpoint, but none stopped them. The ease of it made Lukas want to stay vigilant, yet he soon slipped into sleep. Owl dimmed the cabin lights, letting the crew rest. The ship sailed on, cutting through the infinite dark of the cosmos.