Plant: Alpha Scuti 7, City: Azosa
Azosa, a city of light, shone brightly against the dark expanse of the surrounding grasslands. Its radiant glow pierced the cloud-covered sky, casting its brilliance across the city and beyond. Hovercraft darted in and out of the clouds, weaving between skyscrapers like birds gliding through a dense forest. Monorail lines swerved and vanished in and out of the towering buildings, their tracks disappearing into the lower levels of the city below. Despite the illumination from the city, its lower districts remained shrouded in shadow, some areas dimly lit, others engulfed in a perpetual darkness.
Inside one of the city's alleyways, a solitary lamp flickered weakly, accompanied by a few others that sputtered in their final moments. The air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation. Trash lay scattered, while makeshift shelters clung to the walls, vanishing into the inky void that stretched beyond the alley's end. The sound of clinking dishes from within a nearby bar mingled with the distant drunken laughter and ranting of its patrons, all muffled by the rain that began to fall. A passing monorail momentarily brightened the alley as its electric motors hissed, metal grinding on metal, small sparks briefly illuminating the gloom.
The light from the monorail cast a fleeting glow on a shadowy figure leaning against the bar's reinforced door. The figure's wings, large and dragon-like, were folded against the wall, their scales dark brown fading into the deep red hues of the webbing. The tail rested on the ground, its spine subtly glowing red with the passing train's light. The moment the monorail passed, the alley was swallowed by darkness and silence once more.
Echoes from an adjacent corridor grew louder, overpowering the faint noises from the bar. A crackling voice, mechanical and hesitant, broke through the stillness: "Hey, Morland, are you sure it's a good idea to set up a meeting in this area? There might be bounty hunters or outlaws who know us, trying to claim the bounty on our heads!"
The voices became clearer as two figures appeared at the intersection of the alley, their shadows stretching across the pavement in the dim light. One emitted the unmistakable sounds of mechanical clanking and grinding as it turned its head, scanning the alley. The other, a lizard-like creature, stood tall with a protruding jawline covered in black scales, the light grey scales on its lower jaw peeking out from beneath its vest.
"Listen, Torx," the lizard-like figure muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "Qua'tar chose this meeting spot. If it were up to me, I'd choose anywhere but here. Hell, even the front lines would be a better option than this..."
The Veskari, a species known for their skills in information gathering and undercover operations, preferred to remain hidden in the shadows, blending seamlessly into their surroundings. Over time, they had become experts in gathering intel, using both learned techniques and genetic modifications to their lizard like bodies for an advantage.
"Next time, tell him I want to meet somewhere safer with less risk of getting attacked. Oh, and somewhere with better food..." The second figure—a humanoid mechanical being known as a "Chromadroid"—shifted uneasily. More machine than living being, Chromadroids were known for their mechanical limbs and support systems that replaced most of their organic bodies.
"Torx, you don't even have a stomach anymore due to your last cybernetic upgrade," Morland said, turning to face his companion, poking at Torx's mechanical belly with amusement.
Torx pulled away quickly, averting Morland's gaze. He turned toward the bar, his unease palpable.
"Morland, I think the contact is over there," Torx said, his hands rubbing together in nervous agitation, making faint scratching and grinding noises as he spoke.
"Are you my contact from Qua'tar?" The dragon figure stepped forward, breaking the tension. She extended a hand from her crossed arms and leaned slightly off the wall.
"You're late," Morland remarked, studying her with narrowed eyes.
Tienerra's sharp gaze met his as she stepped closer. "I'm Tienerra. I was told I'd be meeting with you."
Morland, momentarily taken aback, noticed how silent her approach had been. His enhanced senses hadn't detected her presence at all, an unsettling realization for someone who prided himself on his ability to detect others in the blink of an eye.
"Qua'tar mentioned a Soltarian girl would be coming, but honestly, you look too young for this kind of work," Morland mused aloud. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into, little dragon?"
Tienerra fought the instinctive anger at being underestimated but maintained her composure. "I'm capable, Morland. You'll see soon enough."
Torx whispered to Morland, "Are you sure this is the assassin? She might be a bounty hunter."
"It's fine, Torx," Morland replied. "If she were a bounty hunter, we'd already be in trouble. She fits the description, so she's, our contact."
"Okay," Morland continued, his hand subtly resting near his hip, where a gun was holstered under his coat. "Before we get to business, what's the passcode?"
Tienerra reached up, pulling back her hood and allowing a lock of her light brown hair to fall forward. The faint red glow from the gem embedded in her forehead illuminated the shadows beneath her bangs as she spoke:
"With light, there is always darkness in all corners…"
Morland relaxed slightly, his stance less tense but still vigilant. "...and the darkness is always a step away from taking over the light."
He handed her a small silver tube, the reflective surface catching the dim light. It pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat.
"Here are the details of your mission," Morland said, as Tienerra took the data prism. She unrolled the transparent film that emerged from the tube, the screen flickering to life.
The display showed the target's details, but there were no specifics about where the target was currently located.
"I see. So, I'm supposed to take out a rival, but there's no location listed," Tienerra remarked, tucking the information back into her pouch.
Morland nodded, his voice softening. "The information is outdated. It came from the Dark Region, where communication is unreliable."
Torx shifted uneasily, his mechanical hands rubbing together as he glanced nervously around the alley. "Ya, you should be careful. There was a battle between the Eltec Empire and the Galactic Alliance just two days ago."
"Yeah, careful in the Dark Region," Torx piped up with a strange whirring sound, still rubbing his hands. "There was a battle just two days ago between the Eltec Empire and the Galactic Alliance. You don't want to get caught in the crossfire."
At that moment, a shoulder plate from Torx's right side fell off, clattering loudly against the ground. Bolts and screws scattered in every direction. Morland groaned in exasperation, leaning down to pick up the fallen pieces with a heavy sigh. "Like Torx said, the battle lasted only two days, but I swear, sometimes this place seems to drag on forever."
Morland rolled his eyes but bent down to gather the pieces, "As Torx was saying," Morland continued, his tone leveled as he turned his attention back to Torx's shoulder repair, "Sable was last seen in the Dark Region. Where exactly, we don't know, but we do know it's dangerous."
Morland paused briefly, giving the shoulder another firm twist to ensure the repair held. He then shifted his focus, now turning fully towards Tienerra. "We also found out that Sable recently called in a skilled assassin," he said, gesturing toward Tienerra, his hand still holding the wrench like an extension of his arm.
"All we know about this assassin is that it's a Foxian female," Morland said, his voice hardening slightly. "No name, no age, and no confirmed kills, which could be a problem for you if you're supposed to take her out. Tracking down her jobs could save your skin, or it could cost you dearly."
As Morland spoke, Torx nervously fidgeted to the left, his mechanical hands moving erratically, while his head darted back and forth, scanning the alley around them. He seemed uncomfortable with the quiet, his mechanical limbs whirring softly in an anxious rhythm.
Tienerra, still standing at the edge of the alley, glanced up as muffled voices from the bar on the other side of the door began to filter through the air. A loud, unintelligible shout escaped from within, rising over the low hum of conversation.
"Is he okay?" Tienerra asked, her attention drifting to the voices behind the door.
Morland didn't look up from his work. "Yeah, yeah, it's just his usual paranoia. Hasn't gone in for a tune-up in years. That's why he's so twitchy."
As Morland continued his work on Torx's shoulder, he retrieved the wrench from his pocket, holding it in front of Torx's face for a moment as if examining his own frustration. He let out a short, rueful laugh. "You see, Torx here used to be all organic... then came the implants. The man's more machine now than man, and paranoia's his new best friend."
Tienerra blinked at the exchange, barely registering the quirky remarks as her mind focused elsewhere. She heard the faint echo of the muffled yelling from the bar inside, which drew her attention back.
Morland continued, "As I said, the data's old, but we've been able to dig up new info. Sable, the leader of the Severed Blades, has been moving around the Dark Region. That's where we think you'll find him."
Before Tienerra could respond, Torx looked over at Morland, gesturing toward his repaired shoulder, clearly eager to move past the awkward moment.
Morland's eyes narrowed as he paused for a moment, turning to his partner. "One last question, Tienerra." His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the air. "Are you still a 'natural' Soltarian?"
The question caught Tienerra off guard. She blinked once, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face Morland fully. "Yes," she replied slowly, her voice steady. "I am 'natural.' No cybernetics or DNA splicing. Why?"
Morland lowered the wrench and tapped it against his lower jaw thoughtfully. "In that case, you might want to get some skin wraps. You need to look like you have augments, or you'll attract the wrong kind of attention in the Dark Region. They've got a lot of folks out here on the hunt for 'natural' Soltarians, honestly females in general. They've had a massive decline in birth rates, and trust me, it's not something you want to deal with."
Tienerra tilted her head slightly to the side, the weight of Morland's advice sinking in. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "Thanks for the warning," she murmured, considering her next steps. "I'll keep it in mind."
Morland nodded and returned the wrench to his pocket, patting Torx on the shoulder to signal that his work was done. Torx, however, wasn't paying much attention as he was already looking ahead, his gaze sharpening as he stared off into the distance.
"Alion J184," Torx muttered, his mechanical voice crackling with static. "The Dark Region's mobile black-market station. That's where you need to go. It's a hotbed for the underworld."
Tienerra pushed herself off the wall, her wings gently flapping as she moved with purpose. As she took a step, the door behind them suddenly banged open with a loud crash, striking Torx with force. His left arm detached with a sickening clank, sending bolts and nuts flying into the air.
A body—suddenly flung out from the doorway—slammed into the opposite wall with a thud, papers and a sword spilling from the figure's hands into the dirt and refuse of the alley.
Morland froze in shock, his arms thrown up in exasperation as his tail swished with frustration. "What the hell?"
At the doorway, a four-armed, fur-covered creature glared back at them, still holding the doorframe. With a voice that echoed the authority of someone who had no patience for nonsense, the creature yelled, "NEVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN OR IT WILL BE THE LAST PLACE YOU WILL STEP FOOT IN AGAIN!!!"
Morland turned toward the four-armed figure. "HEY, YOU OVERGROWN BUG! I just fixed my buddy here and you go and slam the door into him, turning him into scrap metal. YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"
Torx, with his remaining arm outstretched, began picking up the scattered bolts and screws that had fallen onto the floor. As he did so, Tienerra shifted away, walking around Morland and Torx. She stepped over to the discarded body lying in the alley, noticing the Rho'kans figure—bleeding from a mangled ear—scrambling to recover papers strewn across the wet ground.
The Rho'kans—his fur stained with blood—pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his head. He hunched over, frantically grabbing each piece of paper that had been carelessly discarded. But it was the sword lying beside him that drew Tienerra's attention.
Her gaze locked onto it instinctively, drawn by the intricacy of its design. Symbols adorned the hilt, and precious jewels shimmered faintly, despite the mud, blood, and rain-soaked fabric covering the blade. Something about the sword seemed to resonate with her, like a call she couldn't ignore.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she crouched and reached toward it. But as her fingers brushed the handle, a firm grip stopped her—an iron hand seizing hers. The Rho'kans's voice was strained, urgent. "Trust me, you don't want to touch it," he said, his blood-smeared face staring at her with caution. "Especially not being a Soltarian."
He dragged the sword away from her, slinging it over his shoulder. "This sword's cursed," he continued, his tone darkening. "Stained with the blood of millions of Soltaians."
As he spoke, Tienerra's mind reeled. Something about this sword felt familiar, like a shadow from her past that she couldn't quite grasp.
The Rho'kans, now steadier on his feet, dusted himself off, his somber voice ringing out again. "Only I can carry it, thanks to this wrapping." He paused briefly, then added with an almost casual air, "Oh, by the way, my name's…"
Before he could finish, a loud crash echoed from behind him. Sparks flew as Torx's arm was thrown across their faces, and in that instant, the Rho'kans's nerves snapped. He bolted, the sword now clutched tightly in his grasp as he disappeared into the sea of pedestrians at the alley's end.
Tienerra blinked, snapping out of the trance-like state she had fallen into as she stared at the sword. Shaking off the strange pull it had on her, she started to walk down the alley, blending into the darkness. The events in the alleyway still lingered in her mind, but the path ahead was clearer now—Alion J184 awaited.
Behind her, Morland's voice drifted, grumbling about Torx's broken arm. "Now you're definitely paying for a new arm, moron," he muttered, his tone edged with irritation.
Torx, still struggling to reassemble himself, sighed heavily. "This is going to take all night to put me back together, Morland."