The underbelly of Terra Prime was a place where time seemed to stand still, where the sun never reached, and the air was heavy with the weight of forgotten lives.
The slums stretched endlessly, a maze of crumbling infrastructure and desperate souls.
Euodias moved through it like a phantom, her presence barely a whisper in the cacophony of despair.
She had learned long ago that survival in the slums required more than just physical strength—it demanded cunning, adaptability, and an unyielding will to endure.
The night was her ally. The dim glow of flickering neon signs cast long shadows across the narrow streets, providing cover as she navigated the labyrinthine alleys. Her destination was the edge of the slums, where the industrial sector began—a place of rusted factories, abandoned warehouses, and the occasional smuggler's den. It was there that she hoped to find passage off-world, away from the Dominion's reach.
As she walked, her mind replayed the events of the night. The attackers in her room had not been Dominion soldiers—their gear was too crude, their tactics too sloppy. They were mercenaries, hired guns sent by someone who knew she was still alive. The thought sent a chill down her spine. If someone was willing to pay for her capture, it meant the data drive was more valuable than she had realized. And if that was the case, she was running out of time.
The industrial sector loomed ahead, its skeletal structures rising like the bones of a long-dead beast. The air here was thicker, laced with the acrid scent of chemicals and burning metal.
Euodias pulled her hood lower over her face and quickened her pace. She had heard rumors of a smuggler who operated out of an old factory near the edge of the sector—a man who could get people off-world for the right price.
She didn't have much to offer, but she had a few credits scavenged from her attackers and a handful of valuables she had accumulated over the years.
The factory was easy to spot, its towering smokestacks jutting into the sky like broken fingers. The entrance was guarded by a pair of thugs, their faces obscured by scarves and their hands resting on the hilts of knives tucked into their belts.
Euodias approached cautiously, her hands raised to show she was unarmed.
"I'm here to see the boss," she said, her voice steady despite the tension coiled in her chest.
The guards exchanged a glance, and then one of them stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked her up and down. "You got business with him?"
"I need passage off-world," she replied. "I can pay."
The guard smirked, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "You don't look like you got much to offer, kid."
Euodias reached into her pack and pulled out a small pouch, tossing it to the guard. He caught it and opened it, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the credits inside. After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.
The interior of the factory was a stark contrast to the slums outside. The walls were lined with crates and machinery, and the air was filled with the hum of activity.
Workers moved about, their faces obscured by masks and goggles as they loaded cargo onto a small transport ship docked in the center of the building. At the far end of the room, a man sat behind a makeshift desk, his feet propped up on the surface as he smoked a cigar.
Euodias approached him, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. The man looked up as she drew near, his gaze sharp and calculating.
He was older, his face lined with the marks of a hard life, but there was a shrewdness in his eyes that spoke of experience.
"You the one looking for passage off-world?" he asked, his voice gravelly.
"Yes," Euodias replied. "I need to get to the Outer Rim. Quietly."
The man leaned back in his chair, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. "Quiet ain't cheap, kid. You got the credits?"
Euodias placed the rest of her valuables on the desk—a few pieces of jewelry, a handful of data chips, and the credits she had taken from the mercenaries. The man picked through them, his expression unreadable.
After a moment, he nodded and gestured to the ship.
"You're in luck. We're heading out tonight. But you'll have to earn your keep. We're short on hands, and I don't run a charity."
Euodias nodded, relief flooding through her. She didn't care about the work—she just needed to get off Terra Prime. As she turned to join the crew, the man's voice stopped her.
"One more thing," he said, his tone serious. "You cause any trouble, and you're out. No questions asked. Understood?"
"Understood," Euodias replied, her voice firm.
She moved to join the workers, her mind already racing with plans for what came next. The Outer Rim was a dangerous place, but it was also beyond the Dominion's reach. It was a place where she could disappear, where she could finally uncover the secrets of the data drive.
As the ship's engines roared to life, Euodias felt a flicker of hope. For the first time in years, she was no longer running—she was moving forward. And with every step, she was one step closer to the day she would return to Terra Prime.
Not as a child running for her life.
But as the executioner delivering judgment.