Claudius' hands trembled as he hovered over the latch of the small box. The metallic casing felt cold and solid in his grasp, and every instinct screamed at him not to open it. But he needed answers—desperately. The Harrow Syndicate was involved, a notorious criminal organization, and he was caught in the middle of something far more dangerous than a simple delivery job. Every second that passed only deepened the mystery, and staying in the dark was a risk he couldn't afford to take anymore.
With a quiet exhale, Claudius pressed down on the latch. It released with a soft click, and the lid lifted easily. Inside, cushioned by a layer of foam, lay a small data crystal, no larger than his thumb. A tiny device, but the weight of its importance was immediately apparent. Claudius' eyes narrowed as he lifted it out of the box, holding it up to the dim light of the room.
A data crystal. It looked unassuming, like any of the hundreds used daily across the system to store and transfer information, but if the Syndicate was after it, then it wasn't ordinary. This little shard had to contain something valuable—something powerful enough to warrant violence and betrayal.
Claudius stared at it, feeling the weight of the decisions ahead. He could access it—if he dared. But if he did, there was no turning back. The information on that crystal was what everyone was after, and once he knew what was inside, he'd be part of it. That knowledge could be his undoing—or his key to survival.
He slipped the crystal back into the box, deciding to wait. There wasn't enough time to properly analyze it here, and doing so could attract more danger. He needed a plan before anything else. Claudius closed the lid and locked the box again, tucking it back inside his jacket. He was in deeper than ever, but now, at least, he knew what he was dealing with.
The small, dimly lit room inside Alton's Nexus provided only a temporary refuge. Claudius knew he couldn't linger long, but he needed the few moments of rest to collect his thoughts. The back room was cramped, filled with outdated tech components and a musty smell of forgotten years, but it was quiet and hidden—safe, at least for now.
Sitting on the edge of the narrow cot, Claudius ran his fingers through his hair and tried to form a coherent plan. He needed to get to Draven's contact, but the question remained: who were they? And how would he find them? His gut told him he couldn't trust anyone openly asking about the package. If the Syndicate was already tracking him, then any wrong move could lead him straight into a trap.
The Syndicate. Claudius clenched his fists, thinking about the cybernetic man who had confronted him. How had they found him so quickly? How much did they already know? He needed more information, but finding it without drawing attention would be difficult.
Alton had already given him some valuable intel, but Claudius doubted he'd get anything more out of the broker without paying a steep price. Credits were running low, and time even lower. He had to rely on himself now.
He pulled out a small, handheld comm device he had borrowed from his father's shop back on Neoterra. It was old but reliable, able to pick up signals and tap into local networks. He tapped into the local Phobos data net, trying to scan for any communications that might lead him to Draven's contact or provide a clue about the Syndicate's movements.
Claudius' fingers flew over the device, adjusting frequencies, searching for any encrypted signals. Phobos was a crowded place, full of chatter and coded transmissions, but most of it was the usual traffic—military operations, cargo logistics, minor criminal activities. He pushed deeper, filtering out the noise until he picked up a faint transmission, one heavily encrypted but active.
He isolated the signal, narrowing his search until he could begin decoding fragments of it. His heart raced as snippets of text started appearing on the screen, broken but readable:
"…delivery expected… Syndicate closing in… rendezvous at… section three, dock twenty…"
Claudius' eyes widened. He had found something—a lead, finally. Whoever was expecting the package was planning to meet at dock twenty, in section three of the spaceport. And they knew the Syndicate was already close. It was the first solid clue he had, and though it wasn't much, it was enough to give him direction.
Phobos' section three was an older, less-frequented part of the spaceport. The kind of place where unofficial deals and shady transactions took place without too much oversight. Claudius knew it wouldn't be heavily patrolled, but that meant danger lurked in the shadows. He had to be cautious, especially now that the Syndicate was hunting him.
Claudius slipped out of Alton's Nexus, his jacket pulled tight around him as he made his way through the maze of corridors and docking bays. He kept his head down, blending into the sparse crowd of workers and cargo handlers. No one paid him much attention, which was exactly what he needed.
As he approached section three, the atmosphere grew darker, more desolate. Fewer people walked these corridors, and the few that did looked like they had reasons to avoid Imperial attention. Claudius' senses were on high alert as he navigated the dimly lit pathways toward dock twenty.
The area around dock twenty was quiet—too quiet. Claudius felt a chill run down his spine as he approached. The bay itself was open, an old docking platform no longer in heavy use, its machinery idle and rusting. The silence felt oppressive, but Claudius knew this was the right place.
He slipped into the shadows, finding cover behind a stack of old cargo containers. His breath came slow and steady as he scanned the area. Nothing moved. No sign of the contact, no sign of the Syndicate. Yet.
And then, from the far side of the dock, Claudius spotted movement. A figure emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked, with a hood covering most of their face. They moved with purpose, walking toward the center of the docking platform. Claudius' instincts told him this had to be the contact, but he couldn't be sure. He stayed hidden, watching closely.
Seconds later, another figure appeared—this one from the opposite side of the dock. Claudius' heart skipped a beat as he recognized the second figure immediately: the cybernetic man. He had found Claudius again, and worse, he was approaching the cloaked figure, his stride confident and predatory.
Claudius' grip tightened around the box hidden inside his jacket. This was the contact, he was sure of it now, and the Syndicate was moving in to take them out.
Without thinking, Claudius moved. He slipped out from behind the crates, keeping low as he made his way toward the cloaked figure. He needed to warn them, to deliver the package before it was too late. His mind raced as he closed the distance, his footsteps barely making a sound on the metal platform.
The cybernetic man was only a few meters away from the cloaked figure now, his mechanical limbs clinking softly as he moved. Claudius could see the glint of a weapon hidden under the man's coat. There was no time.
"Hey!" Claudius shouted, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Both the cloaked figure and the cybernetic man turned at the same time, their eyes locking onto Claudius.
The cybernetic man's face twisted in recognition, his red cyber-eye glowing ominously in the dim light. "You again," he growled, reaching for his weapon.
Claudius didn't stop. He sprinted toward the cloaked figure, his heart racing. "They're after you! Take this!" He pulled the box from his jacket and shoved it into the cloaked figure's hands.
The cloaked figure hesitated for a brief second before grasping the box tightly. Their face was still hidden under the hood, but Claudius could feel their tension, their surprise.
Before Claudius could say anything more, the cybernetic man lunged. His weapon flashed—a small, sleek pistol designed for close-quarters combat. Claudius barely had time to react as the shot rang out, the sound echoing through the empty dock.
The cloaked figure shoved Claudius to the ground, and the two of them hit the metal platform hard. The shot went wide, missing them by inches, but the cybernetic man was already closing the distance.
Claudius scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. They were cornered, with nowhere to run.
Just as the cybernetic man raised his weapon again, a bright flash of light erupted from the far side of the dock. A loud, piercing hum filled the air, and Claudius' vision blurred as the light grew brighter.
The cybernetic man stopped in his tracks, momentarily blinded. Claudius blinked, trying to clear his vision, and saw the cloaked figure pull something from their belt—a small, cylindrical device emitting the blinding light.
"Move!" the cloaked figure ordered, their voice low but commanding.
Claudius didn't hesitate. He followed the figure as they sprinted toward the far side of the dock, the light still blinding the cybernetic man behind them.
As they disappeared into the shadows, Claudius' heart pounded in his chest. He had delivered the package, but his problems were far from over.