The volcanic surface of Planet Kraa roared with fury as Jared's T-pod weaved between fiery eruptions. The heat radiated through the cockpit, and warning lights blinked furiously on the console.

"Hold together, baby," Jared muttered, gripping the controls tightly. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a clenched jaw as he trailed Haul's pod, the bounty target barely a speck against the orange haze.

"You're cutting it too close again!" Logan's voice crackled over the comms, sharp with exasperation. "If that pod explodes, don't think I'll bother scraping you off the rocks."

"Relax, Logan," Jared shot back, twisting the controls to avoid a cascade of molten rock. "I've got this."

But even as he said it, his eyes darted to the display, where his engine's heat levels were climbing dangerously high. The terrain wasn't helping either; every maneuver seemed to push the pod closer to its limits. He cursed under his breath, his frustration mounting as the pressure of the chase intensified.

Ahead, Haul's pod veered sharply left, skimming the edge of a lava flow. Jared pushed his T-pod harder, trying to close the gap.

"You sure about this?" Logan's tone shifted, quieter now. "Haul's got an edge somehow. You're better than this, Jared. Something feels… off."

"Off? What's off is your faith in me," Jared snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. His fingers flew across the controls, engaging the disruptor cannon. He lined up the shot…

And missed.

"Damn it!" Jared slammed a fist against the console.

The shot should have hit. It was a clean angle, his timing perfect. Yet the cannon's targeting system had lagged by a fraction of a second, throwing off the trajectory. The same thing had happened last week on the mission with the Glatorian smugglers—an unusual malfunction that seemed to haunt his tech at the worst possible moments.

"You okay?" Logan asked, her concern cutting through the static.

"Fine," Jared gritted out, though the frustration gnawed at him.

Behind him, a small shadow moved unnoticed across a distant starship in orbit. In the bridge's control room, Commander Charles Baxter watched the chase unfold through a series of monitors. The central commander's chair, where he sat, gave him a clear view of the room and its occupants. To his left, Remi, the hacker, worked rapidly, her fingers flying over the controls. To his right, Sergeant Richmond, his assistant, stood with a focused expression, keeping an eye on the situation. At the front, the pilot and copilot were operating the ship, while two more crew members monitored the engine systems and navigation.

Charles, 24 years old, sat comfortably in the commander's chair, his smooth, youthful face almost too innocent for the cold, calculating role he played. His blonde hair was in neatly styled, framing his sharp blue eyes that contrasted with his demeanor. A faint smile touched his lips as he tapped a button on his console, subtly overriding Jared's targeting system. The glitch was minor, imperceptible, but enough to nudge Jared toward failure.

"You always loved a challenge, don't you?" Commander Baxter smirks, leaning back in his commander chair. The room was dim, the glow of the Earthling Space Police Federation's insignia casting sharp shadows on the walls. "Let's see how far you'll go before you break. Remi!"

Remi, the hacker under Commander Baxter, operated her device with practiced precision. After tampering with Jared's firearms, she now targeted the machine's core systems, pushing it toward overheating.

On Kraa, Jared was already pushing himself harder, ignoring Logan's protests. He activated the auxiliary boosters, sending the T-pod surging forward with a burst of speed. Heat levels spiked dangerously close to critical, but he pushed the risk aside. He had failed too many times before—missing fugitives, losing bounties, earning the humiliating nickname "King of Missing Out the Bounties." This time, he was determined to prove them all wrong. He couldn't let Haul slip away.

"Jared, your engine's about to blow!" Logan yelled.

"Not yet," Jared growled. He fired again, this time grazing Haul's pod and sending it spiraling off course.

For a moment, he allowed himself a triumphant smirk. But the victory was short-lived. The T-pod's alarms screamed as the boosters gave out, the result of Remi's calculated hacking that pushed his system to overheat. The pod lurched violently, and Jared fought the controls, barely managing to stabilize the craft as it skidded to a halt on a rocky plateau.

Haul's pod, smoking but operational, disappeared into the horizon.

"No!" Jared slammed both hands onto the console, breathing heavily. The weight of failure settled on his shoulders like a lead blanket.

Suddenly, Jared's communication radio crackled to life. The distorted voice that followed was unmistakably Haul's—mocking and taunting him in a language Jared didn't fully understand. Haul's laughter bubbled through the static, a blend of harsh syllables and sounds that didn't quite match the cadence of human speech.

Wiping the blood from his face, Jared groans, "...that sounds like a toilet flushing. Must be full of shit."

"What was that?" Logan sounded confused as she connected to Jared. She too heard the strange transmission without realizing that it was Haul's voice.

He didn't respond, his mind racing with frustration and self-recrimination. Something was off, but he couldn't figure out what. And that only made the failure sting more.

In the orbiting ship, Commander Baxter watched with a deep sense of satisfaction, his eyes glinting coldly as he observed the unfolding chase. He could already see the cracks beginning to form in Jared's confidence—another seed of doubt planted, ready to crush the young man's belief in himself even more.

"Good job, Remi," he praised the hacker with a nod. "You've done well."

Remi, her fingers dancing across the controls, didn't look up from her screen. "Glad to be of service, Commander."

Turning his attention to another side from his commanding throne, Commander Baxter calls his other assistant. "Richmond, have you still got a track on Haul's location?"

"Yes, sir," Sergeant Richmond replied, his voice steady as his eyes never left the glowing display in front of him. A GNS (Galactic Navigation System) map filled the screen, pinpointing Haul's location in real-time. "He's under our skin. We've got him locked down."

Charles turned to his officers, his tone sharp and commanding. "Prepare to capture Haul. He's been weakened by Jared's pursuit. We need to move in now, before he escapes again."

His starship pilot, Lieutenant Bierhoff, now moved to execute their orders. The ship hummed with energy as they activated the necessary systems for the operation ahead. Commander Baxter leaned back in his chair, satisfaction evident in his posture. Haul would be taken care of, and Jared would be none the wiser, his failures only deepening as planned.

"Soon, Jared," Commander Baxter smirks. "Soon, you'll realize you need me. And when you do, I'll be there. We will be together again."