The red emergency lights of the hangar cast long, dancing shadows, making the motley crew of aliens and cyborgs surrounding them look even more menacing. Leo pushed himself up, every muscle protesting, his body a single, unified ache. Kael remained standing, tense and alert, his ice-blue eyes darting around the hangar, assessing threats, calculating odds. Even in defeat, he was a predator.
Jett's grin never faltered. He circled them like a carrion bird inspecting a fresh kill, his eyes gleaming with a manic, avaricious light.
"That was quite a show," Jett began, his voice dangerously cheerful. "You kids really know how to make a mess. Blew up an asteroid, got a Syndicate Heavy Hauler to show its hand... very entertaining. But entertainment has a price. And a rescue from a Syndicate containment protocol? Ooh, that's top-tier. Premium service."
He stopped in front of Leo's battered 'Phantom' scooter. He ran a greasy hand over its iced-over fuselage, his touch a mixture of a mechanic's assessment and a connoisseur's appreciation.
"This little beauty, for starters," Jett declared. "The cloaking tech alone is worth a fortune. The custom ion cannons... tasty. Consider it a down payment for services rendered."
Leo opened his mouth to protest, but Kael spoke first, his voice a low growl. "That's a custom build. It's worthless without a compatible pilot."
"Oh, I'll make it compatible," Jett chuckled, patting the scooter. "I have very persuasive tools."
His gaze then shifted to Kael, and his grin widened. "And then there's you. An elite Syndicate Enforcer, out in the cold. Your gear..." Jett's eyes scanned Kael from head to toe, lingering on the sleek black undersuit and the complex cybernetic arm. "That's not off-the-shelf tech. That's military grade. The arm alone could probably power a small settlement. I'll be taking that. And the suit. And the fancy baton."
Kael's posture went rigid. Stripping a courier of his gear was the ultimate humiliation, like declawing a tiger. "This equipment is biometrically keyed to me," he said through clenched teeth. "It's useless to you."
"Like I said," Jett's voice turned sharp, the mania replaced by cold steel. "I have persuasive tools. My tech-priests can crack anything. Now, are you going to give it to me, or are my crew and I going to have to take it off you piece by piece?"
Two of Jett's crew, a hulking reptilian with a plasma cutter and a wiry cyborg with crackling taser-claws, took a menacing step forward.
Leo knew he had to intervene. He couldn't let Kael be stripped bare. Not because he cared about Kael's pride, but because their truce, their contract, their entire insane mission to get to the Regulator depended on Kael being a weapon, not a victim.
"Wait," Leo said, his voice surprisingly steady. He pushed himself to his feet, standing between Kael and Jett's crew.
Jett raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say, chaos generator?"
"You're a salvager, Jett," Leo began, his mind racing, piecing together a new deal from the wreckage of their fight. "You're not a mugger. You value profit. Stripping him down gets you some second-hand tech. It's a one-time payment. But I'm offering you a business opportunity."
"I'm listening," Jett said, intrigued.
"You saw that battle," Leo continued. "You saw the tow truck. You saw its drones. You know the tech the Syndicate is using. Out there," he gestured towards the closed hangar door, "is a battlefield littered with high-grade Syndicate components. Disabled drones, spent energy cells, maybe even pieces of the tow truck's own systems that your crew damaged. It's a salvage gold mine."
Jett's grin returned, but this time it was thoughtful. "Go on."
"You don't know the layout," Leo said, pressing his advantage. "You don't know what's valuable and what's just scrap. But we do." He pointed to Kael. "He knows this tech inside and out. He knows what parts are worth a fortune on the black market. And I..." Leo tapped his temple. "I'm the chaos generator. I know how to navigate that mess. I can get you to the best salvage before the Syndicate sends another team."
He laid out his offer. "Here's the new deal. We guide you. We help you salvage the entire battlefield. Your profit will be ten times what you'd get from stripping us down. In exchange, Kael keeps his personal gear." He took a breath, adding the final, crucial piece. "And you repair my Phantom. Not just patch it up. Upgrade it. With the best parts we salvage."
It was an audacious proposal. He wasn't just negotiating their freedom; he was negotiating a promotion.
Kael stared at Leo, his expression a complex mixture of shock and grudging respect. Leo was using his own logic—the logic of maximum efficiency and profit—against Jett.
Jett was silent for a long moment, his manic eyes calculating, weighing the options. He looked at Kael's high-tech arm, then at the closed hangar door that led to a field of treasure.
"A guided tour of a fresh Syndicate wreck..." Jett murmured to himself. "With an expert consultant..." His gaze settled on Leo, sharp and appraising. "You're a hell of a negotiator for a guy who was cosmic dust twenty minutes ago."
He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the hangar. "Alright, chaos generator! You've got a deal! My crew and I get exclusive salvage rights, guided by you two. In return, the walking hardware store keeps his limbs," he nodded at Kael, "and I'll turn your little scooter into a machine that can punch a hole through reality itself."
His grin turned predatory. "But I'm adding a clause. I'm investing in your little suicide mission now. When you finally get to this 'Regulator'... I get a cut. Information, tech, whatever treasures you find in the heart of the machine... I want my piece of it."
It was a steep price, but Leo had no choice. "Deal."
"Excellent!" Jett boomed. He turned to his crew. "You heard the man! Prepare the salvage skiffs! We're going treasure hunting!"
The crew let out a ragged cheer. The tension in the hangar broke, replaced by the excited bustle of pirates preparing for a raid.
Leo and Kael were left standing by the battered Phantom. The air between them was thick with unspoken things.
"You didn't have to do that," Kael said finally, his voice low.
"Yes, I did," Leo replied, his gaze steady. "I need you at your best if we're going to pull this off. Our contract isn't finished. And I intend to win it."
Kael stared at him, the rivalry in his eyes warring with a new, unwelcome sense of debt. He hated it. He hated owing the amateur anything. But he was a pragmatist. And Leo had just saved him.
"When this is over," Kael said, his voice a cold promise, "I will still break you."
"I'm counting on you to try," Leo shot back.
For the first time, a genuine, cold smile touched Kael's lips. The truce was fragile, the rivalry was stronger than ever, but for now, they were on the same side. They were part of Jett's chaotic crew. And their next delivery was to salvage their own battlefield.