Chapter 1457 Unbecoming Arrival

Chapter 1457 Unbecoming Arrival

Author's Note: Unedited Chapter

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Slowly, almost painfully, the figure sat up, clutching at pieces of debris to stabilize itself. Its movements were sluggish, heavy with the weight of injury and the cold of space.

As the figure regained some semblance of composure, it looked around at the floating bodies and the ruins of what once was a secure transport vessel. There was no sound in the vacuum of space, but if there were, it would have been a symphony of eerie, mournful silence.

"That bitch!" The figure muttered underneath it's breath.

The figure's face, partially obscured by a damaged helmet, was scarred and worn. It reached up with a trembling hand to release the helmet's seal, pulling it off to reveal a visage that was both inhumane and haunting.

The figure had deep-set eyes that glowed with a faint bioluminescence, a common genetic modification among space-faring folk, designed to assist with vision in the varied light conditions of different worlds.

The figure's breath came in visible puffs. A portable life support system at its belt pulsated faintly, struggling to keep the atmosphere breathable.

He took a moment to gather strength, then began to propel himself through the zero-gravity environment towards a larger piece of wreckage that housed the remnants of the ship's communication array.

Reaching the console, the figure's hands moved with purpose, pulling out a compact toolkit from its belt and beginning to work on the damaged equipment.

Sparks flew as connections were jury-rigged, the display flickering to life intermittently under the skilled hands of the lone survivor.

With a final twist of wires and a soft thud of restored power, the console stabilized, the screen glowing steadily now.

The figure typed in a sequence of commands, a distress signal that would broadcast across the standard emergency channels used in this sector of space.

"Mayday, mayday. This is Officer Eyhrum from the High-Security Transport Vessel #0019468 Triton, requesting immediate assistance," the figure spoke into the communication device, his voice raspy but clear.

"We were attacked—prisoner uprising... external intervention 100% confirmed... coordinates attached. Require immediate extraction."

...

...

...

As the spacecraft continued its steady course towards the Nereus Sector, Gustav and the others were gathered in the med bay.

The room was utilitarian, bathed in the soft glow of overhead panels, the stars streaking past visible through the panoramic windows, providing a vibrant display of moving constellations.

The guard, now somewhat recuperated, sat at the table with Gustav and the others arrayed around him. The air was filled with a mix of curiosity and urgency

Gustav stood at the main viewport, observing the approach. "Looks more like an intergalactic pirate's nest than a hub of trade."

Beside him, Endric adjusted the scope of their long-range sensors. "Looks like there are a couple more ships on similar vectors."

The group's attention shifted to the external monitors, which displayed several other spacecraft converging on the Nereus Sector. Each ship was distinct—some bristled with weaponry, likely mercenaries or bounty hunters; others were sleek and shadowy, possibly smugglers or thieves.

Aildris, monitoring the communications channels, added, "There's a lot of chatter. Everything from trade negotiations to threats. It's busy out there."

As their ship slipped into the sector's outer orbit, a sense of foreboding settled over the group.

The sector's reputation for danger was not just storied but visible; the space around it was littered with the remains of ships that had met violent ends, their hulks serving as grim reminders of failed ventures and fatal encounters.

Gustav was confident in their capabilities but for reasons unknown, something didn't feel right to him.

An automated docking protocol activated as they neared a designated port. The voice that came over the comm was gritty, laced with static. "Vessel identified as Tarks craft from the Gohatark territory. Far from home eh? State your business or prepare to be boarded."

Gustav responded with calm authority, "We're here for trade and resupply." He glanced at Endric, who gave a subtle nod, confirming that their cloaking narrative was holding up.

The reply was terse. "Acknowledged. Dock at bay 94-A. No funny business, or you'll find yourself out an airlock."

As they maneuvered into the docking bay, the scale of the Nereus Sector's internal structure became apparent. It was a dizzying labyrinth of corridors and plazas, all built atop the remnants of older structures.

The air was thick with the smell of ionized particles and the sound of a thousand dialects spoken by species from across the galaxy.

The group disembarked, blending into the crowd. Gustav kept his eyes sharp for any sign of Karis or her minions, while Aildris, Ria and Falco gathered information.

The place was a melting pot of the galaxy's most desperate and dangerous; every alleyway could hold a deal or a doorway to death.

[ Mental Transmission Has Been Activated ]

'I'll Keep the transmission open. Let me know if you find anything,' Gustav's voice played in their minds as they split up.

...

...

In the dimly lit conference room of another transport vessel, a tense air of urgency pervaded the space.

The room, stark and functional, was lined with digital displays and tactical screens, each casting a soft blue light across the faces of those gathered.

At the head of the metal table sat Captain Helena Voss, a seasoned officer known for her steely demeanor and strategic acumen. Beside her, her second-in-command, Commander Rajiv Malik, whose reputation for meticulousness was unmatched within the fleet.

"The prisoner, Karis, didn't act alone. Our investigations—prior to the incident—had hinted at potential corruption among the crew, but we lacked the evidence to convict. It appears that a few of our own guards conspired with her."