Halver's Reach rose from the void like a rusted jewel, its structures clinging to the side of a fractured asteroid. Towers of steel and glass stretched along its scarred surface, patched together with scavenged plating from centuries of wreckage. Flickering lights marked airlocks and docking ports, but half the colony looked like it was held together by hope and stubbornness.
Kael Ardyn guided the courier toward the docking bay, his hands steady despite the storm swirling in his chest. The Council ambush had rattled them. Rhea's betrayal still stung like an open wound. And yet, Halver's Reach offered something he hadn't felt in months: possibility.
"Docking bay two is open," Lyra murmured, scanning her console. Her voice was soft but tight, the edge of exhaustion lingering from her bond with the Ark.
Kael glanced at her. Her hair was pulled back messily, dark circles shadowing her eyes, but her focus never wavered. She was steel under fire, and he admired her more with every passing hour.
Rhea slouched in the co-pilot's seat, arms folded, a smirk plastered across her face as if nothing had happened. The bruise on her jaw from Kael's earlier outburst was faint but visible.
"You sure about this, Captain?" she drawled. "Halver's Reach isn't exactly a welcoming committee. Last I heard, they shoot first and bargain later."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we'll give them a reason not to shoot."
The courier settled into the docking clamps with a dull thud. Outside, the bay buzzed with activity—cargo haulers drifting in and out, mechanics in patched suits shouting over the hiss of decompression vents.
Kael rose, checking the charge on his blaster. "Let's move. Stay sharp."
The airlock hissed open, releasing the heavy, metallic scent of recycled oxygen. The docking bay was cavernous, lit by strips of harsh neon. Workers paused to watch as Kael, Lyra, and Rhea stepped out. Their stares weren't curious—they were wary.
A group of armed guards approached, rifles slung across their chests. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his face, stopped a few paces away.
"Identify yourselves," he barked.
Kael kept his hands visible, voice calm. "Name's Kael Ardyn. We're here to talk. Heard Halver's Reach doesn't bow to the Council."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Ardyn. The Council's got a bounty on that name big enough to buy this whole rock."
Murmurs rippled through the dockworkers. Lyra stiffened, her hand brushing Kael's sleeve.
Kael didn't flinch. "That bounty exists because I crossed them. If you're really independent, that should matter."
The man studied him for a long moment—then laughed harshly. "You've got nerve, I'll give you that. Come with me. The Overseer will decide if you live."
They were escorted through twisting corridors into the colony's heart. Halver's Reach was alive with activity: markets crammed with traders hawking alien tech, children darting between stalls, mercenaries drinking from cracked flasks in shadowed corners. But there was tension too, a simmering unease beneath the surface.
The Overseer's chamber was a repurposed mining hall, its walls lined with banners of faded red cloth. At the center sat a woman on a raised platform, her presence commanding despite her lean frame.
Her hair was streaked with silver, her eyes sharp as broken glass. She wore no armor, only a long coat lined with worn insignias from forgotten wars.
"So," she said, her voice smooth but cutting, "the infamous Kael Ardyn walks into my Reach. Bold. Or foolish."
Kael inclined his head. "I came to offer something worth more than the Council's bounty."
The Overseer arched a brow. "And what would that be?"
Before Kael could answer, Rhea stepped forward with her usual grin. "An ancient alien warship with guns that make the Council piss themselves."
Lyra's eyes widened in alarm. "Rhea—"
But it was too late. The chamber erupted in whispers, hungry, dangerous whispers.
The Overseer leaned forward, interest gleaming in her eyes. "A warship, you say?"
Kael shot Rhea a glare that promised fire later, then turned back. "It's not just a ship. It's a chance. The Council nearly destroyed us once already. But with allies—people like you—we can push back."
The Overseer studied him, tapping a finger against her armrest. Then she smiled, thin and sharp. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I turn you over to the Council and take the ship for myself."
The guards shifted, rifles half-raised. Lyra stepped closer to Kael, her voice steady but trembling at the edges. "If you do that, the Council won't stop with us. They'll come for Halver's Reach. They'll burn it to ash to keep their secret."
The Overseer's gaze snapped to her. "And you are?"
"Lyra Veyra," she said, lifting her chin. "Xenobiologist. I've touched the ship. It's alive. And it doesn't bend to anyone who doesn't earn its trust. Not me. Not Kael. Certainly not the Council."
Silence fell. Then the Overseer laughed—a low, delighted sound. "You've got fire, girl. I like that."
She leaned back, waving a hand. The guards lowered their rifles.
"Fine," she said. "You'll stay. We'll talk. But understand this—Halver's Reach bows to no one. Not the Council, not your warship, not you."
Kael inclined his head, though his gut twisted. This was no alliance. Not yet. Only a dangerous game.
That night, Kael found himself in a cramped bunkroom assigned to them. The hum of the colony's generators seeped through the walls. Lyra sat at the small desk, pouring over her notes, while Rhea sprawled on her bunk, humming tunelessly.
Kael leaned against the doorframe, watching them. The tension was thick, every word edged with unspoken accusations.
Finally, Kael broke the silence. "You nearly got us killed today, Rhea."
She didn't look up. "And I nearly saved us. That Overseer wouldn't have given you the time of day without bait."
Lyra slammed her datapad shut, fury flashing. "You don't get it, do you? You can't just gamble with secrets like that. If they turn on us—"
Rhea sat up, eyes glinting. "Then maybe you shouldn't have woken up a ship that paints a target on all our backs."
The words cut deep. Lyra's face paled, her jaw tightening.
Kael stepped forward, his voice low but sharp. "Enough. Both of you. We can't afford this."
Rhea's smirk returned, though it was weaker now. "Whatever you say, Captain."
She flopped back onto her bunk, but Kael saw the flicker of something in her eyes. Not just defiance. Fear.
Later, when Rhea was finally asleep, Kael sat beside Lyra at the desk. Her hands trembled slightly as she scrolled through alien glyphs on her pad.
"You're not wrong," Kael said quietly.
Lyra glanced at him. "About what?"
"About the risk. About the Ark. It's dangerous. It could destroy us just as easily as save us."
Her shoulders sagged. "Then why do you keep pushing?"
Kael hesitated, then reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against hers. "Because I believe in you. You're the only one who's managed to touch it and survive. If anyone can guide it, it's you."
Lyra's breath caught, her eyes meeting his. "And if I can't?"
"Then we'll face it together," Kael said simply.
For a long moment, they sat in silence, their hands touching, the storm of Halver's Reach muffled by the thin walls.
The peace shattered with the blare of alarms. Red lights flared through the corridors, and the Overseer's voice crackled over the intercom.
"Council ships inbound! All fighters to stations!"
Kael shot to his feet, blaster in hand. Lyra's eyes went wide with terror.
Rhea groaned from her bunk, already strapping on her pistols. "Guess they followed your trail after all, Captain."
Kael's stomach dropped. This wasn't coincidence. Someone had tipped them off.
And he had a sinking suspicion he knew exactly who.