The Ironsight glided into one of the smaller docking bays of the Federation Space Center—a colossal station orbiting a dying star. From afar, it resembled a city suspended in space, buzzing with activity as ships docked and departed like clockwork. Inside, it was a labyrinth of sterile metal corridors, humming with that cold efficiency only the Federation could muster.
Rhys stepped out of the cockpit, stretching until his joints popped. The stale scent of recycled air greeted him—not exactly fresh, but familiar. A few paces ahead, Jax Koro sauntered forward, his usual swagger in full effect.
"Think they'll pay us this time without drowning us in paperwork?" Jax cast a sideways glance at Rhys.
"They'd better," Rhys grumbled. "We delivered their precious prototype. Time to see some credits."
Jax smirked. "The Federation and their prototypes—always something top-secret, and we're supposed to keep our mouths shut."
Rhys shrugged, his eyes scanning the bustling docking bay. Honestly, he didn't care what's in the crates they hauled, as long as the credits landed in their account afterward.
They navigated through the station, passing by gleaming metallic walls that made everything feel a bit too clean, too detached. Federation personnel in crisp uniforms moved with purpose, barely acknowledging the two mercenaries. The stark contrast between this orderly world and the chaos they faced in the outer sectors wasn't lost on Rhys.
At the mission office, they approached a clerk who looked as bored as a person could be, stationed behind a terminal. Rhys slid his badge across the scanner.
"Credits?" he asked bluntly.
The clerk barely looked up as the machine beeped. "Credits are in," he replied, eyes glued to his screen. "Anything else?"
Rhys exchanged a glance with Jax. Sure, they'd just wrapped up a mission, but they were hungry for more—something bigger, riskier, and definitely more profitable.
"Got any new contracts?" Rhys leaned over the counter. "We're looking for a job that pays well."
The clerk finally met his gaze, eyes narrowing a touch. "There is something," he said after a pause. "A mission in the outer sectors. Interested?"
Jax raised an eyebrow. "Outer sectors? That's skirting close to Necrolythian territory."
The clerk waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about the Necrolythians. No signs of them in this area. It's just a pirate cleanup. Standard stuff—take out a few bases, clear the lanes."
A knot tightened in Rhys's stomach. "Pirates? Then why not send in a squadron of Federation fighters?"
"Resources are stretched thin," the clerk said with a shrug. "And you mercs have a knack for dealing with scum like them. We're occupied elsewhere."
Rhys wasn't entirely convinced, but Jax's eyes lit up. "Pirates? Sounds like easy money."
With a reluctant sigh, Rhys nodded. "Alright. We'll take the job."
The clerk handed over a data pad with the coordinates. "Should be straightforward. You eliminate the pirate bases, we transfer the credits. Simple."
Simple. It was never that simple.
***
The Ironsight hurtled through hyperspace, engines humming as Rhys and Jax sat in the cockpit. The outer sectors were the wild west of space—lawless, dotted with pirate hideouts and abandoned colonies. Trouble waiting to happen.
Jax stared out at the blur of stars. "You ever think about it?" he asked suddenly.
"Think about what?" Rhys kept his eyes on the controls.
"Getting that cruiser-class ship. Leaving all this behind."
Rhys let out a low chuckle. "That's the dream, isn't it? But until we've got the credits, it's just that—a dream."
Jax leaned back. "Keep doing jobs like this, maybe we'll get there sooner than we think."
Rhys said nothing. Same old story—another job, another inch closer to a goal that felt miles away.
As they approached the coordinates, The Ironsight dropped out of hyperspace. Stars returned to their steady glow. According to the mission data, there should've been a pirate base here—a sprawling fortress carved into an asteroid.
But there was nothing. Just debris.
"What the...?" Jax muttered, sitting up straight. "This can't be right."
Rhys's grip tightened on the controls as they edged closer to the floating wreckage. Twisted metal pieces drifted aimlessly, the remnants of what used to be a base. It didn't look like a skirmish. It looked like total annihilation.
Jax leaned forward, scanning the instruments. "I don't know anything that could do this. Something hit this place—hard."
A chill crept up Rhys's spine. Through the haze of debris, he spotted it.
A ship.
But not just any ship. This thing was colossal, dwarfing any vessel Rhys had ever seen. Its hull was a dark, twisted mass of jagged metal, casting eerie shadows as it loomed in the void. It had no markings, no insignia. Just a silent giant adrift among the stars.
"What is that?" Jax whispered, his voice barely audible.
Rhys didn't answer. His mind raced. The sheer size was terrifying, but there was something else—an unsettling wrongness, like the universe had spat out something that didn't belong.
No visible weapons. No familiar design. Just raw, ominous presence, as if it had been forged by something not entirely... human.
"That's no pirate ship," Rhys murmured.
Jax was frantically pulling up data. "Nothing in the Federation records matches this."
Rhys swallowed hard, heart pounding. "We need to get out of here. Now."
Before Jax could respond, the ship stirred.
A low hum vibrated through The Ironsight, filling the cockpit. The massive vessel began to turn, as if noticing their tiny ship. Panic surged as Rhys's hands flew over the controls. The ship loomed larger, its shadow swallowing the starlight.
"That thing—what is it?" Jax's voice shook.
Rhys didn't wait to find out. He slammed the throttle forward, and The Ironsight lunged ahead, engines roaring as they fled the scene. Whatever that ship was, sticking around wasn't an option.
As they jumped back into hyperspace, Rhys couldn't shake the image from his mind. No flags. No allegiance. Just pure destruction.
This mission was supposed to be easy. Pirates, they said. A simple cleanup, they said.
But deep down, Rhys knew they'd stumbled onto something else. Something dangerous.
For the first time, he wondered if the whispers about the Necrolythians weren't just ghost stories after all.
One thing was certain.
Something far worse was out there.
And they'd just crossed its path.