The smell of incense hung thick in the air, clinging to Rox's senses as she slipped through the heavy flaps of the tent.
*flap!
The fabric brushed against her shoulder before falling shut behind her, sealing her inside.
At once,
*click! *click! *beep!
*murmuring…
*clatter!
she was swallowed by a world of muted murmurs, flickering lights, and the constant whirr of machinery.
Dozens of cloaked figures milled about the space, their faces dimly lit by the glow of countless terminals.
Each workstation seemed alive—holographic panels layered with endless streams of scrolling data, projected charts, and rotating models of ships, cities, and planets.
The tent itself stretched far larger than its modest exterior suggested.
The deeper she moved inside, the more elaborate the setup became.
Wires and conduits snaked along the floor, humming softly with residual energy, while suspended lanterns cast faint, emerald light that mingled with the glow of the holograms.
At the far side, tall shelving units made of scavenged alloy held stacks of dusty tomes and data-crystals, their contents flickering faintly with encrypted seals.
The walls were lined with projections—wall sized panels of dossiers, each marked with names, bounties, or empire insignias.
Some displayed faces with glowing red
"WANTED"
stamps across them, others shifted through star maps highlighting trade routes and blockaded sectors.
Background chatter drifted to her ears, broken fragments of conversations layered over one another, painting the picture of a place obsessed with knowledge:
"Cross-reference this with the Outer Rim manifests—we're missing three shipments from House Venril's convoy…"
"Update the bounty board. That deserter from Nythrael showed up on Draxus Prime two days ago…"
"Encrypted transmission, quadrant six—decode priority, level three clearance!"
"Wait, wait, pull that back. Zoom in. That signature… it's eidra residue, not weapons discharge. Log it!"
Strange words that were unknown even to Rox.
One figure hunched over a central projector flicked his wrist, and a massive holographic map blossomed into the air.
Sectors of the galaxy rotated before their eyes, dotted with shifting symbols.
Trade lines, migration trails, black market routes—all tangled together like an intricate web.
Another leaned over his shoulder, muttering in excitement,
"If the black veil tendrils are moving this fast… then whole clusters will be cut off within months…"
Rox's eyes narrowed as she took it all in, curiosity stirring despite herself.
This was more than a camp—it was an information nerve center, a data broker's quarter where secrets were currency and whispers shaped the battlefield.
And this woman who she was following… must be their leader.
*tap! *tap! *tap!
Rox and the woman pressed deeper into the tent until they reached a secluded chamber.
Unlike the outer areas bustling with operatives, this section was quieter, more guarded.
*beep! *beep! *beep! *beep!
The air was thicker here, heavy with the glow of countless monitors stacked along the walls, their displays alive with endless data streams.
Dozens of datapads were scattered across the tables, some humming faintly, others flickering with encrypted seals.
*beep! *beep!
The constant hum of power coursed through the room, a rhythm of machinery that made the silence between them feel all the more suffocating.
Rox's eyes narrowed as she scanned the walls of cascading numbers and shifting maps.
Her lips parted with quiet certainty.
"I know what you are… you're a data broker."
The woman gave no visible reaction at first, only stepping forward with unhurried grace before lowering herself into a high-backed chair behind a central table.
The faint glow of the monitors cast her sharp features in alternating shadows of green and blue.
When she finally spoke, her voice carried the cold weight of authority.
"So tell me, Rox Aggro… what is your purpose in coming to one of the expedition sites of the Red Fleet?"
Rox exhaled sharply, frustration bleeding into her tone as she marched forward.
"I keep telling you! I'm just a wanderer now. A deserter. I follow no allegiance anymore! I just happen to be he—!"
*Bzzzr!
But before her words could linger, the binding device locked around her wrists flared with power.
Sparks cracked across the restraints, sending a violent surge of energy up her arms.
"Argh!"
Rox gritted her teeth as her body jolted with pain, her knees buckling until
*Thud!
she crashed down onto the cold ground.
The woman rose from her chair with deliberate slowness, her cloak brushing against the floor as she approached.
She crouched just enough to grasp the chin of Rox's helmet,, her grip firm, forcing their eyes to meet.
Her piercing gaze was like a blade, searching Rox's soul for weakness.
"Perhaps… you are a deserter," she murmured.
Then her lips curled faintly
*fwhip!
as she whisked Rox's chin away with disdain.
"But one thing is certain. I am your captor."
She turned her back as if dismissing Rox entirely, though her voice carried on, sharp and deliberate.
"And I would have use for you—your skill, your experience. Who knows? I might even grant you freedom… or perhaps, something more valuable."
She paused, her words cutting like a dagger.
"Protection."
That word hit Rox harder than the jolt had.
Her breathing stilled. Protection.
As much as she hated to admit it, she knew the woman wasn't lying.
Even if she had escaped Corvus, the empire would never stop hunting her.
She wasn't just another pilot to them—she was the Ace pilot.
A prized weapon who had turned against them.
An asset too important to let slip away.
Her eyes flickered faintly with the weight of realization.
Freedom was sweet.
But survival… survival demanded leverage.
Rox paused,
the silence stretching between them like a tight wire.
The faint hum of data pads and the flicker of screens in the background only made the stillness heavier.
She kept her gaze steady, weighing her options, calculating.
Every instinct told her not to trust this woman, yet every memory of the empire reminded her that refusing now might cost her more than her pride.
Her jaw tightened.
Finally,
*sigh…
she exhaled slowly,
the sound sharp beneath her helmet.
"Fine… let's hear the details," she said, her tone flat but edged, her eyes locking onto the woman's with defiance still burning behind them.
The woman studied her in silence for a long moment, her piercing gaze unblinking, as though she were sifting through Rox's soul for cracks.
Then, with deliberate calm, she straightened and inclined her head.
"Very well… Rox Aggro."
The way she said her name carried weight—
like an acknowledgement, but also a warning.