The sun hung low over the horizon as Ethan drove the rented hover truck across the barren expanse. The desolate landscape stretched endlessly, the golden sand broken only by the occasional jagged rock formations jutting from the earth like the bones of a long-dead beast. Beside him, Zyrix sat in comfortable silence, his plasma sniper rifle resting against the dashboard.
Ahead, the neutral outpost loomed, a small, weathered settlement perched on the edge of a canyon. It had clearly seen better days, its walls patched with mismatched panels, its towers leaning with the weight of years. Yet it stood, a testament to the resilience of those who lived outside the relative safety of Valeris City.
"This is the place?" Zyrix asked, his sharp eyes scanning the settlement.
Ethan nodded, his hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "The resistance picked it. Far enough from the Federation's reach and neutral enough that no one will feel like they're on enemy turf."
"They don't trust us," Zyrix remarked casually, his tone devoid of surprise.
"And we don't trust them," Ethan replied, his voice even.
The truck hovered to a stop outside the main gate, where resistance fighters waited. Their weapons, an assortment of salvaged Syndicate and Federation gear and improvised arms, were trained on the approaching vehicle. The fighters' stances were tense, their faces hard with suspicion.
One of them stepped forward, a tall woman with cropped hair and a rifle slung across her back. "You the guild team?"
Ethan stepped out of the truck, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of peace. "Ethan Walker, D-Rank mercenary. This is Zyrix Korran, also a D-Rank merc."
The woman eyed them critically before gesturing for her team to lower their weapons. "Marik and Tala are waiting inside. Follow me."
The meeting was held in a large, dilapidated building at the center of the outpost. Inside, a long table had been set up, its surface covered in maps, datapads, and scattered notes. Two figures stood at the far end: Marik Vos and Tala Ryn, Joran Kren's trusted delegates.
Marik was a man of quiet authority, his lined face betraying years of experience. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with Tala, a fiery young commander whose every movement radiated impatience. Both turned as Ethan and Zyrix entered, their expressions guarded.
"You're late," Tala snapped, crossing her arms.
"We're here," Ethan replied simply, meeting her glare with steady calm.
Marik stepped forward, extending a hand. "Ethan Walker. I've read the reports. Xelthar's death was a significant blow to the Syndicate. Well done."
Ethan shook his hand. "Thank you. But we both know the Syndicate's far from done."
"Which is why we're here," Marik said, gesturing to the table. "Let's begin."
The holographic map of Vela Drasik's stronghold flickered to life, casting a cold blue glow across the room. Key points were marked with red indicators: supply depots, anti-air defenses, and her central command center.
"This is the target," Ethan began, pointing to the map. "A coordinated strike here will cripple Vela's operations and prevent her from launching the counteroffensive she's planning."
"And what's your plan?" Tala asked, her tone laced with skepticism.
Ethan outlined the guild's strategy: precision strikes on key infrastructure, supported by resistance forces engaging Syndicate patrols to create distractions. He emphasized the need for synchronization to avoid unnecessary casualties.
Marik nodded thoughtfully, but Tala wasn't convinced. "This is too cautious," she said. "We've been hitting the Syndicate hard for years. A full assault would overwhelm them faster."
"And cost us more lives," Ethan countered. "Vela's defenses aren't just for show. Rushing in without a plan will only get people killed."
The room grew tense as the two factions stared each other down. Marik raised a hand, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "Tala, let's hear them out. We came here to cooperate, not argue."
Ethan took a steadying breath, his voice firm but measured. "I understand your frustration. You've been fighting this war longer than we have. But this isn't about pride, it's about strategy. If we work together, we can dismantle Vela's operation swiftly and from the bud. If we don't, she'll use that time to consolidate her power."
Tala's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.
Marik stepped in, his tone diplomatic. "A hybrid approach might be best. The resistance can handle the distractions, drawing Syndicate forces away, while the guild focuses on disabling key infrastructure."
Ethan nodded. "Exactly. We'll divide our strengths to achieve a common goal."
After a moment, Tala relented with a curt nod. "Fine. But if your plan falls apart, we'll do it my way."
As the meeting continued, smaller conflicts arose. Resistance fighters accused the guild of prioritizing efficiency over civilian safety, while guild mercenaries dismissed the resistance's tactics as reckless.
Ethan found himself mediating once again, his voice calm but firm. "We're all here because we want the same thing: to stop the Syndicate. That's the priority. Let's not lose sight of it."
To demonstrate goodwill, Ethan volunteered to assist the resistance with a reconnaissance task later that evening. The gesture went a long way toward easing tensions, though the alliance remained fragile.
During a break in the planning, Marik pulled Ethan aside. His tone was low, his expression grave. "There's something you should know. Our scouts have reported Syndicate convoys heading to Rath Zorrek's mines in the northern mountains."
"What kind of convoys?" Ethan asked.
"Advanced equipment, heavily guarded. And crates, large ones, unmarked."
Ethan frowned. "Could it be tied to the mind-control alloy?"
Marik nodded. "Possibly. Whatever it is, it's important enough that they're willing to divert significant resources to protect it."
"I'll report this to the guild," Ethan said. "But for now, Vela is our priority."
"Agreed," Marik said. "Just... keep it in mind."
As the meeting concluded, both sides returned to their respective camps to prepare for the strike. Guild mercenaries polished their weapons and calibrated drones, while resistance fighters gathered salvaged Syndicate gear and explosives.
Ethan took a moment to step outside, the cool desert air brushing against his skin. He stared out at the horizon, his thoughts heavy with the weight of the operation.
Zyrix approached, his voice breaking the silence. "Think this alliance will hold?"
"It has to," Ethan replied.
The two stood in silence for a moment before returning to their tasks. Dawn was approaching, and with it, another step in dismantling Vela Drasik's operations.