"I come in peace, no need to be hostile," Rox said, her voice calm yet steady as her hands stayed raised in surrender.
The synthetic distortion from her helmet gave her words a metallic edge, like steel wrapped in velvet.
*crunch…. *crunch…
The hooded woman stepped closer, her soldiers' weapons still trained on Rox.
She moved with a predator's caution, her eyes inspecting over every detail.
From her clothes, the way she stood, as she looked at Rox up and down.
Slowly, she circled Rox, her boots crunching the grass in measured steps.
"A helmet that mimics a bird's beak…" the woman murmured, her voice low and analytical.
Her gloved fingers brushed lightly against Rox's shoulder, feeling the weave of her cloak.
"Dark weave, thin, flexible… yet durable enough to repel blades and shrapnel."
She stopped directly in front of Rox, her gaze fixed on the reflective visor.
When she spoke again, her tone carried finality.
"A Corvi."
The word hung in the air like a verdict.
At once, one of her soldiers barked out,
*clack!
his blaster tightening in his grip.
"A Corvi, you say? Then what are you waiting for? Kill her!"
"I'm no longer with them," Rox interjected quickly, her tone sharp but measured, fighting to keep her voice even.
"I'm a deserter. I abandoned the empire. Now I'm just a wanderer, I mean no harm to anyone."
The leader's eyes narrowed, her suspicion as sharp as a blade.
"Lies. The Corvi are masters of infiltration. Manipulators. Spies."
Her voice hardened, her soldiers' stances shifting with it.
"Tell me—how can I know you're not here to poison us from within?"
"Ugh… fine," Rox muttered, her voice strained with annoyance.
"My name… is Rox Aggro, one of the ace pilots from the imperial fleet. I take it, have you heard of me?" She let the words fall heavy, her tone carrying the weight of infamy, as though daring them to recognize it.
The hooded woman froze, her eyes widening ever so slightly before narrowing again in sharp focus.
"The wanted pilot…" she whispered, recognition flashing across her face.
Then, more firmly, she added,
"Yes. My informants have spoken of you."
Her gaze shifted toward her soldiers, calculating.
.
.
.
Finally, with a flick of her hand, she gave the order.
"Lay your weapons down. This one… might prove useful. We may have acquired an asset."
The soldiers hesitated for only a moment before lowering their blasters.
The woman's voice cut through the pause, colder this time.
"Still, bind her. I won't risk our expedition being compromised by her wandering hands."
One soldier stepped forward with a binding device, its restraints humming faintly with crackling energy.
Rox rolled her eyes and sighed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Seriously? After all that?" She raised her hands anyway,
*clack!
letting the cuffs snap around her wrists.
The bindings tightened with a sharp click, locking her in place.
"Now," the woman said briskly, turning on her heel, her cloak swaying with the motion.
She tapped the glowing datapad strapped to her forearm, its interface lighting up the mist around her.
"We move. Back to HQ."
Rox groaned, her shoulders slumping as a soldier moved behind her, keeping close watch.
Under her breath, muffled beneath her helmet, she muttered,
"Great… I finally crawl out of one shithole just to end up in another. Fuck me…"
*sigh!
Rox exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping as she forced herself to focus.
Worrying about what had already happened wouldn't save her now.
What mattered was what came next—
finding the right chance to slip free of their grasp.
Her eyes flicked from side to side, subtly studying the cloaked soldiers surrounding her.
There were far too many to count at a glance—forty, maybe more—
and each carried themselves like seasoned fighters.
To fight her way out here would be suicide.
"No… not yet," Rox muttered beneath her breath, her helmet masking the words.
"I'm sure an opportunity will pop up. All I gotta do is be patient."
.
.
.
Minutes dragged into an hour as they marched across the endless grasslands.
The air was sharp with wind, tugging at their cloaks as their boots beat into the soil in rhythmic unison.
Rox's own steps felt heavier, weighed down not by the bindings on her wrists, but by the simmering frustration gnawing in her chest.
At last, the land ahead shifted.
Rising from the plains came a sprawling base of operations, camouflaged by the mist yet alive with motion.
Cloaked figures moved like ants across the camp—some cradling blasters, others carrying stacks of parchment and strange equipment, while hulking vehicles laden with cargo rumbled between them.
The atmosphere thrummed with energy, a hive of purpose and urgency.
"All of you, return to your posts for further instructions," the pointy-eared woman commanded with a flick of her hand, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise.
"As you wish," replied one soldier, his tone clipped and respectful.
At once, the ranks began to scatter—
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
soldiers breaking off to their stations, others climbing onto vehicles or vanishing into tents.
Within moments, the bustling order of the camp reasserted itself, leaving only a quiet hum in their wake.
All except for one.
A soldier lingered by Rox's side, his hand resting firmly on his weapon as he cast her a suspicious glance.
"And the Corvi?" he asked, his tone low and edged.
"I'll handle it," the woman replied without hesitation, her emerald eyes fixed on Rox.
The soldier hesitated for a beat, then gave a stiff nod before retreating, leaving Rox and the woman alone, face to face.
The woman glanced at Rox briefly, her expression unreadable beneath the shadow of her hood, before she turned sharply and stepped forward.
Her voice cut the air with quiet authority.
"Follow me, Corvi deserter. I will make use of you."
"My name is not Corvi. It's Rox," she sighed, her tone weary as she trudged after the woman, boots crunching softly against the packed earth beneath the headquarters.
All around them, the camp stirred with murmurs.
Though hushed, Rox's helmet amplified every whisper, every faint snarl of disdain.
Faces turned to watch her, some with confusion, others with scorn.
To them, she wasn't Rox—
she was a Corvi.
A reminder of a people bred for nothing but war.
The Corvi, after all, were notorious across the sea of stars—
Also known as the Void..
Their empire—Corvus—was not merely feared but reviled.
Infamous for its conquests, it was a civilization that had perfected technology and naval warfare only to wield it as chains.
Lesser and weaker species had been crushed under their heel, enslaved or eradicated without hesitation.
Every child of Corvus was raised for battle.
Every citizen is indoctrinated to see strength as the only virtue.
Innocents?
The weak?
To them, such things were expendable,
unworthy of pity.
It was this truth that made Rox's stomach twist.
This truth that had burned her faith to ash.
She had seen past their polished banners, past their hollow speeches of honor and unity.
Behind it all, she had found only rot—
greed and fear
festering at the core of their empire.
Greed for power.
Fear of losing their place as one of the galaxy's most dominant forces.
Fear that the veil of their supremacy might crack, and the truth of their weakness would be revealed.
Fear that another empire—braver, bolder—would pierce the Black Veil first, and claim the forbidden world of Gaia before them.
Everything.
And anything.
Corvus wanted it all.
And they would burn entire civilizations to get it.
Rox clenched her jaw as she walked, each step a reminder of why she had abandoned them.
Why she could never return.
.
.
.
Seconds bled into minutes as Rox and the woman made their way deeper into the heart of the encampment.
*murmurs…
*clank! *clank!
*engine sounds…!
They passed rows of tents, lines of disciplined soldiers, and lumbering vehicles that hummed with restrained power.
The scent of oil, metal, and faint ozone from energy cores lingered in the air.
The farther they went, the more organized everything became,
until finally,
they stood before a structure that dwarfed the others.
It was a massive tent, the kind reserved only for command.
Its frame was reinforced with polished steel beams wrapped in thick hides, and banners bearing foreign sigils swayed along its flanks.
Lanterns of pulsing eidra crystals lined its entrance, their glow cutting through the misty dusk.
This was no ordinary shelter—it was a fortress of cloth and rune.
This must be the main headquarters,
Rox thought, her gaze narrowing as she looked up at its sheer size.
"Follow me," the woman ordered promptly without looking at Rox,
*flap!
her hand brushing aside the heavy flaps of the tent as she stepped inside without hesitation.
*Sigh!
Rox sighed,
shoulders sagging slightly beneath the weight of her restraints.
"No rest for me, I guess…" she muttered, before stepping forward into whatever awaited her inside.