Kalen stalked through the dimly lit corridors of Sector Nine, his boots clicking softly against the cold metal floor. Overhead, flickering lights cast jagged shadows across the walls, and the air smelled faintly of ozone and grease. This part of the Reach was less traveled—used mostly for cargo storage and dumping failed experiments from the engineers' labs. It was also dangerous. Too quiet, too remote. A perfect spot for an ambush.
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his knife as he slipped into the shadows.
The crate Lazrik wanted wasn't just lost. Crates didn't *disappear* on the Reach without a reason. Someone had taken it, and judging by the location, whoever had stolen it didn't want to be found.
From the corner of his eye, Kalen spotted movement—a faint blur near a stack of cargo containers. His body tensed, instincts taking over. He slipped behind a pillar and crouched low, his breath steady. Whoever it was, they weren't alone. He could hear the faint buzz of comms, the low murmur of voices.
Kalen peered around the corner, careful to keep himself hidden.
Three figures stood near the center of the cargo bay, illuminated by the soft blue glow of a stolen holo-tablet. The leader, a tall man with a shock of white hair and a cybernetic arm, gestured sharply at the screen. Beside him, two lackeys—both armed with plasma carbines—scanned the area, their eyes restless.
"You're sure this is it?" the leader demanded, his voice low but sharp.
"It's here," one of the lackeys replied, tapping the holo-tablet. "Encrypted goods. Lazrik's been sitting on this for weeks."
The leader nodded, his mechanical fingers curling into a fist. "Good. We move fast. If anyone shows up, we—"
A loud clatter echoed through the bay as Kalen accidentally brushed a loose metal pipe with his boot. He froze, his pulse pounding.
"What was that?" one of the lackeys barked, raising his weapon.
The leader held up a hand, his cybernetic arm emitting a faint hum as a blade extended from his wrist. "Spread out. Find whoever's here. No witnesses."
Kalen's jaw clenched. No running this time. If he wanted to climb higher in the Reach, he couldn't afford to back down.
He drew his knife and waited. The first lackey rounded the corner, his carbine raised, his heavy boots thudding with every step. Kalen pressed himself against the wall, letting the man pass before lunging forward, his knife slicing in a clean arc. The lackey gasped, clutching his side as he dropped to the ground, his weapon clattering uselessly.
"Someone's here!" the second lackey shouted, firing blindly into the shadows. Sparks flew as plasma bolts ricocheted off the walls, and Kalen ducked low, weaving through the maze of crates.
The leader barked orders, his voice a growl. "Cut him off! Don't let him leave!"
Kalen darted toward the far end of the bay, his mind racing. He needed to separate them, even the odds. As the second lackey charged after him, Kalen kicked over a stack of loose equipment, sending metal rods tumbling to the floor. The lackey stumbled, his carbine slipping from his grasp, and Kalen seized the moment. He tackled the man to the ground, driving his knife into his opponent's shoulder. The lackey screamed, his weapon sparking as it discharged harmlessly into the air.
"Get up!" the leader snarled, advancing on Kalen with terrifying speed. His cybernetic arm glowed faintly, the blade snapping back into place with a metallic hiss.
Kalen scrambled to his feet, backing toward the exit. His knife felt too small, too weak against the towering figure before him. But his mind was sharper than steel. He glanced around the bay, searching for an advantage.
There—a crane control panel. If he could get to it...
The leader lunged, his blade sweeping toward Kalen in a deadly arc. Kalen ducked just in time, the blade slicing through the air above him. He rolled to the side, his heart pounding, and made a break for the panel. The leader roared in frustration, slamming his blade into a nearby crate, splitting it in two.
Kalen reached the controls, his fingers flying over the buttons. The crane above them groaned to life, its magnetized claw swinging into position. The leader charged, but Kalen pulled the lever hard, and the claw slammed down, pinning the man beneath its massive weight.
The leader struggled, his cybernetic arm sparking as he tried to free himself. "You think this will stop me, kid?" he snarled. "You have no idea who you're messing with!"
Kalen wiped sweat from his brow, his chest heaving. "Funny—I was about to say the same thing to you," he said, his voice steady,
With one last glance at the trapped man, Kalen grabbed the stolen holo-tablet and sprinted for the exit. Behind him, the leader's curses echoed through the bay.
The Reach had taught Kalen one thing above all: survival wasn't about strength. It was about knowing when to fight—and when to run.