The faint hiss of pressurized air filled Talia's workshop as Kalen slid the stolen power core onto her cluttered workbench. The room was a chaos of blinking monitors, loose wires, and half-assembled drones. Talia, a wiry woman with sharp eyes and perpetually smudged hands, arched an eyebrow at the glowing blue cylinder.
"This is no junkyard salvage," she said, picking up the core and inspecting it. "Top-tier tech. Where'd you get it?"
Kalen smirked but didn't answer. "Let's just say it wasn't easy to come by. Do we have a deal?"
Talia turned the core in her hands, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "You're really giving this to me?"
"I don't give anything," Kalen replied coolly. "It's a trade. You crack this." He pulled the military-grade holo-tablet from his jacket and placed it beside the core. Its screen pulsed faintly, still locked behind layers of encryption.
Talia let out a low whistle, running a scanner over the tablet. "This isn't just locked. It's *military-locked.* Encrypted protocols, fail safes... and it's tethered to a live network. Someone's probably already flagged it."
"Can you crack it?" Kalen pressed.
Talia's smirk returned. "Of course I can. Question is, why do you want it? This isn't your usual scavenger haul."
"Don't worry about why," Kalen said. "Just get it done."
Talia gave him a long, appraising look before nodding. "Fine. But it's going to take time. You'll have to wait."
Kalen glanced around the workshop, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. "I'm not leaving it here."
She rolled her eyes. "Paranoid much?"
"Careful," Kalen replied, "or I'll start asking questions about *your* stash."
Talia snorted. "Fair enough. Pull up a chair, Vex. This'll take a while."
Talia worked in near silence, her focus absolute as she dismantled layer after layer of encryption. Her hands moved with a precision born from years of navigating the dark underworld of the Reach's tech enclaves. Every now and then, she muttered something under her breath—half to herself, half to Kalen.
"This isn't just a data tablet," she murmured. "It's a logistics hub. Linked to a supply network, troop movements, payments... It's a damn goldmine."
Kalen leaned closer, his expression hard. "How much of it can you decrypt?"
"Most of it," Talia replied. "But this isn't small-time stuff. This data's worth a fortune—if you don't get killed for holding it."
Kalen sat back, his mind already racing. Information was power, especially in the Reach. If this data held what he suspected, it could be his ticket to building something bigger than himself.
After hours of work, Talia leaned back with a triumphant grin. The tablet's screen shifted, displaying rows of schematics, encrypted logs, and a sprawling web of supply chains.
"Done," she said. "And you weren't kidding—this is the real deal. Weapons, credits, merc contracts... Someone's going to kill you for this, Vex."
Kalen took the tablet and pocketed it, his expression unreadable. "Not if I use it first."
Kalen didn't return to his hideaway immediately. Instead, he made his way to the Scrap Market, the hub of the Underspace where scavengers, mechanics, and engineers bartered their wares. He wasn't just thinking about survival anymore. With the data in his hands, he had a chance to build something permanent—a crew, a stronghold, a future.
He found Kira Vecht crouched beneath a rusted starfighter, her hands deep in its engine. Sparks flew as she worked, her sharp features illuminated by the occasional flare.
"Kira," Kalen called.
She glanced up, frowning. "Vex? What are you doing here?"
"I've got a job for you," he said, holding up a cred-chip.
Kira wiped her hands on her jumpsuit and stood, eyeing the chip warily. "This isn't scavenger work, is it?"
"No," Kalen replied. "It's better. I'm building something—a crew, a base. I need someone who can keep things running."
Kira tilted her head, her skepticism clear. "And what's in it for me?"
"Credits. Power. Safety. Take your pick," Kalen said evenly.
Kira smirked. "You really think you can pull this off?"
"I don't think," Kalen said. "I *know.*"
After a long pause, Kira nodded. "Fine. I'm in. But if this blows up in your face, don't come crying to me."
Over the next week, Kalen used the data from the tablet to recruit others. He leveraged supply routes and hidden caches to offer something few in the Reach could: stability.
His next recruit was **Jace Karr**, a demolitions expert who'd been blacklisted by one of the Reach's warlords. Kalen promised him a place where loyalty was earned, not demanded.
Then came **Myrin Shade**, an ex-assassin hiding from the Cogmind Syndicate. Kalen offered her a chance to strike back at her enemies while keeping her skills sharp.
Finally, Kalen approached **Leira Caddis**, a medic running a makeshift clinic in the depths of the Underspace. At first, she refused, claiming her loyalty was to her patients. But when Kalen offered protection and resources for her clinic, she reluctantly agreed.
Each recruit came with their own baggage, but Kalen didn't care. What mattered was their skill, their drive, and their willingness to follow his lead.
With Kira's help, Kalen transformed his hideaway into something far more secure. They reinforced the walls with scavenged iron plating, installed hidden cameras, and even rigged an emergency power source.
The others called it "The Den," and the name stuck.
One night, as the crew gathered around a makeshift table in the center of the Den, Kalen stood at the head, his voice calm but commanding.
"This isn't just about survival anymore," he said. "We've all been scraping by, living in the shadows. But together, we're stronger than this place. Stronger than the chaos around us."
Jace crossed his arms, his massive frame imposing. "And what happens when the warlords notice us?"
"They will," Kalen said. "And when they do, we'll remind them that the Reach belongs to those willing to take it."
The room fell silent, but it wasn't fear that hung in the air—it was determination.
They weren't just strays anymore. They were a pack. And the Reach would soon learn what that meant.