[= Establishing Planetary Link... =]

  Rykka-9

  Unregistered Trade Port, Outer Kordis System

  Standard Galactic Date: 2739, Cycle 03

  Local Time: 14:27 Port Standard

  [= Location Data Logged =]

  The ship shuddered as we hit Rykka-9’s atmosphere, rattling so hard I thought it might shake me right out of my seat.

  Good thing I wore my seatbelt.

  In a car, that was more of a suggestion. Here? Without it, I’d have been plastered to the cargo hold door by G-forces, with my guts doing a whole lot of sightseeing on their way there.

  Outside, thick, oily smog wrapped around us, swirling like ink in water.

  Through the haze, jagged mountains and strange, alien terrain broke through in brief flashes.

  “All systems stable, Commander,” Ares said, his voice level, like this was just another day at the office.

  Easy for him to say.

  I gripped the armrests tighter as the readouts flickered with warnings—heat levels spiking, pressure stabilizers struggling to keep up.

  The rattling only got worse. Each shudder felt like a punch to the gut.

  Outside, the view was nothing but thick clouds of alien dust, tinting the light a sickly shade of green.

  “You sure about that?” I muttered, glancing at the console.

  This was the kind of turbulence that had atheists in jets suddenly finding religion.

  “As certain as one can be while descending through Rykka-9’s turbulent atmosphere,” he replied, a little too smoothly. “Try not to panic.”

  “Panic? Who’s panicking?” My heart hammered anyway.

  The ship gave a final lurch, then broke through the last layer of swirling smog.

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  “Welcome to Rykka-9, Commander,” Ares said, with a note of satisfaction. “Prepare for landing procedures.”

  The rattling eased, but my grip on the controls didn’t.

  Ahead, the planet’s surface sprawled out in shades of gray and rust.

  And there it was—Draxis Reach.

  A smog-choked city on the edge of nowhere, packed tight with ships of all shapes and sizes.

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  Mercenary rigs. Battered freighters. Cargo haulers with paint jobs that’d seen better days.

  The whole dockyard looked like a junkyard for outlaw spaceships.

  I zeroed in on an open hangar—if you could call it that. Looked more like a metal scrap heap someone had turned sideways.

  The landing zone was gritty. Uneven. Patches of oil-stained concrete and cracked tiles didn’t inspire much confidence.

  “This is the spot?” I muttered.

  “According to planetary coordinates, yes. It appears functional,” Ares replied, sounding way too calm for what I was about to attempt.

  A brief pause. Then—

  “Though, if I may suggest, a professional pilot would have executed this maneuver with significantly less stress.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, well, she’s not here, is she?”

  “No. And yet you insisted on taking manual control.”

  I gripped the controls tighter. “Figured I’d see how it feels doing it for real.”

  I took a deep breath.

  Guided the ship down.

  Squeezed into the narrow space between a spiky, mismatched alien freighter and what looked like the mercenary equivalent of a space RV—with all the firepower and none of the glamour.

  The landing gear groaned as we touched down.

  I released the controls, finally unclenching my hands.

  I exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out.

  Ares hummed. “Your execution is… acceptable.”

  “Great review. Maybe next time I’ll let you park.”

  “I would recommend it.”

  I glanced out the window.

  Rows of heavily armed, mismatched craft lined the hangar, like a chaotic interstellar garage sale. My pristine ship looked out of place—a shiny pearl tossed into a nest of scrap metal and blasters.

  “Not exactly the Ritz,” I muttered, unbuckling my seatbelt.

  But hey, we were here.

  I barely had time to get out of my seat before a message blared across the console.

  “Attention: Docked vessel 487-Delta. This is Rykka-9 Port Authority. An immediate cargo scan is required for landing verification.”

  My stomach dropped. The crimson dust was sitting in the hold, practically screaming “scan me, please.”

  “Ares,” I hissed, eyes wide. “Tell me you have a way around this.”

  There was a brief, uncomfortable silence.

  “Working on it, Commander,” Ares replied, his voice a little too calm for my liking.

  The console flashed red as the port authority began its scan. I could practically see them digging through every crate, every corner, right down to that cursed batch of dust. I gripped the seat, every nerve firing.

  “Ares!” I hissed again, trying not to lose it completely.

  “Rerouting signal frequencies now,” he replied, still infuriatingly calm. “Cloaking as much of our cargo hold as possible. You might consider… thinking pleasant thoughts.”

  The flashing slowed.

  Then—green.

  “Scan complete,” the port authority announced. “Cargo cleared for entry.”

  I let out a shaky breath.

  “You really cut that close,” I muttered.

  “Everything is under control, Commander,” Ares replied, almost smug. “Though perhaps next time, fewer illicit substances in the cargo might ease your nerves.”

  With the scan fiasco narrowly avoided, I took a steadying breath, unbuckled my seatbelt, and stood up. My legs felt like jelly, but I ignored it.

  “Ares,” I said, pulling on my jacket. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Keep a low profile. I don’t want any surprise inspections or… random explosions.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the console. “Think you can manage that?”

  “I’ll do my best to avoid creating planetary disturbances, Commander. Though given recent events, I can’t guarantee my actions won’t draw a crowd.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just—no alarms, no flashy lights. And for the love of all that’s good, don’t go advertising what we’ve got in the cargo hold.”

  “As you wish. I’ll blend in with the local ambiance,” he replied, sounding positively amused.

  “Good.” I adjusted my gear. “I’ll try to find Astra Voss. If she’s not here, I’ll track down her sister. Last I heard, she was working as an informant around here.”

  I hesitated, glancing back at the ship. “And, Ares? Keep the ship ready for a quick exit. Just in case.”

  “I never assumed otherwise,” Ares replied, voice as dry as ever.

  With one last look, I stepped out of the hangar and into the chaos of Draxis Reach.