The EAC guild headquarters loomed like a cathedral carved from starlight.
Kaela stared up at the pristine white building with its arched windows of transparent crystal and soft golden trim. Floating gardens shimmered on glass balconies, suspended by pulse engines and woven with bioluminescent flora. Drones drifted overhead like silent sentinels, scanning every civilian without breaking the aesthetic calm.
Everything felt… clean. Too clean.
She walked through the main plaza, boots echoing against polished stone engraved with glowing script. Even the streets beneath her feet pulsed faintly with qi-tech, reacting to every step. Hovercabs glided silently along shimmering lanes. Advertisements hovered in the air—massive holograms in bold color and sound.
One depicted a glowing EAC soldier planting a flag into alien terrain, surrounded by flames and glory. Another showed the history of Veyron, tracing its transformation from pirate outpost to mercenary utopia. Bold letters claimed:
"From chaos, order. From order, purpose. Veyron—Home of the Chosen."
Then came the weapon ads.
Cultivation manuals, enchanted blades, mech enhancements, qi-implants—anything a fighter might need, for a hefty price. Prices flashed in bold: 350 QC (Qi Credits) for a kinetic heart mod, 170 QC for a base-level qi-pistol. Kaela's bank balance trembled just thinking about it.
But the people here? They looked content. Confident.
Drelkarr children with glowing green veins chased insectoid shop drones. Crystalline merchants bartered with Syneth engineers. Even a group of Varellians—glowing with shifting color—floated lazily through the air, wings trailing faint light.
No fights. No fear.
Just curated freedom.
Kaela's gaze lingered on a pair of Aurai girls, their cloud-swirl eyes locked on a floating screen that played EAC recruitment ads. Everything here seemed designed to impress—and to lull.
She made her way toward the main guild building.
Inside the EAC Guild
The interior of the guild felt like stepping into a space-faring palace.
High glass ceilings. Polished floors. Grand staircases framed by floating banners displaying the EAC emblem—a golden shield pierced by a plasma spear. Every few steps, another massive holoscreen played looping messages:
"Power. Glory. Freedom. Join the Vanguard of the Stars."
The lobby was packed. Hundreds—no, thousands—of mercenaries from across the galaxy gathered in tense excitement. Most were here for the same reason: the job.
Kaela wove through the crowd, keeping her head low. Beast-born with war-trophies strapped to their backs. Nyari illusionists in flowing shadow robes. Even a few mechs stood in idle mode, towering above the rest like sentient statues.
Security was tight. Armed EAC officers flanked every major entrance, their white-and-gold uniforms pristine and intimidating. Plasma pistols holstered in golden thigh rigs. Their helmets were sleek and full-visored, with pulsing HUD displays in the glass.
No mercenary disorder here. This was a military masquerading as a guild.
After biometric scans and identity checks, the crowd was led through shimmering gates into a massive underground training coliseum—larger than any arena Kaela had ever seen. Platforms for weapon tests, obstacle fields, cultivation rings, even mech docks.
She took a seat near the back, far from the center stage.
The lights dimmed.
From above, a colossal hologram ignited—projected from dozens of ceiling-mounted nodes. The man who appeared was broad-shouldered, black-haired, and wore a commander's cloak over the EAC insignia. His golden eyes gleamed like predator tech. His presence filled the chamber like a pulse of gravity.
Captain Olivis Drake. Founder of the Exo Arbiter Collective.
"Welcome to Veyron," his deep voice echoed. "And congratulations."
The crowd stilled. All eyes on him.
"You've been chosen—some of you by luck, others by merit. All of you will be remembered."
A soft ripple of applause, mostly silent.
"The mission is simple," Drake continued. "A search-and-destroy contract, sanctioned by our most respected allies. The target: Planet Xelthora."
A projection of a red, jungle-covered planet appeared beside him. Vines, ruins, mountains. It looked… wild.
"Xelthora is overrun. Beasts, monsters, and anomalies. You are to eliminate any hostiles. Anything you find—artifacts, weapons, tech, relics—is yours to keep. That is your pay. No fixed wages. Only what your strength earns you."
Excitement spread through the crowd like a fever.
"But…" Drake raised a hand. The air shifted.
"There is one rule. One item that is off-limits. The Mica Prism Crystals."
The planet's image shifted—now showing luminous, jagged crystals embedded deep within ruins. They pulsed with unnatural light. Kaela's eye twitched violently behind its patch.
"You will not touch them," he said, voice deadly cold. "Not one shard. Not a sliver. If you are found with even a speck, you will be executed on sight."
The crowd grew still again. The weight of his words crushed the earlier energy.
"Before you board for the return trip, you will be searched. If anyone is found with a crystal…" His voice dropped lower. "None of you will make it back alive."
A silence like static filled the air.
"Be your brother's keeper," he said finally. "If someone breaks this rule—you break them first."
The hologram faded. The lights returned.
A moment passed. Then noise returned in a wave—talking, murmurs, plans forming in real time.
Kaela exhaled slowly.
So that was the job.
Two months of travel. One month to prepare.
And a cursed planet full of monsters and forbidden treasure.
The crowd slowly trickled out of the training coliseum, murmuring with a cocktail of excitement and unease. Kaela remained seated near the back, her hands resting on her thighs, her posture still.
She replayed Captain Drake's words in her mind—search and destroy, keep what you find, don't touch the Mica Prisms.
You won't make it back alive.
That threat hadn't been a warning. It was a promise.
She exhaled sharply, pulled up her QComm interface from the wristband on her arm, and opened a secure line to Alenya.
The screen flickered. A moment later, Alenya's face appeared—her fire-orange hair slightly disheveled, half a bowl of noodles in one hand. "Kaela? That you? I just landed, still getting my stuff. You at the guild already?"
"Yeah. I got the full rundown," Kaela replied. "It's... not what I expected."
Alenya squinted. "Not paying, huh?"
"Oh, they're paying. With danger and secrets." Kaela shifted in her seat. "The mission is a two-month trip to Planet Xelthora. Search-and-destroy. Full salvage rights... except for one thing."
Alenya stopped chewing. "Let me guess. Something cursed?"
"Mica Prism Crystals. Forbidden. Anyone caught with one gets executed. They'll scan us before we return. And if someone smuggles one... Drake says none of us get to leave."
Alenya blinked. "…Wait, what?"
"Yeah." Kaela tapped the side of her eyepatch. "That kind of speech makes mercenaries nervous. Mica prism is one of the most valuable minerals in this universe, without them we wouldn't be able to warp so the caution is understandable."
"…So obviously, I'm in."
Kaela snorted despite herself.
"But seriously, that's weird. Let me pull some stuff up—" Alenya began typing something furiously offscreen.
Kaela opened her own QComm interface and began her own search. She entered Xelthora into the virtual net's planetary archives. The system took a long second to load.
Then it returned a few terse lines.
Xelthora – Classification: Hazard World
Formerly designated: "XI-07-Theta"
Galactic Core Archive Status: Redacted
Civilian Access: Restricted
Data Logs: Unavailable
She frowned. Unavailable? That was rare, even for fringe worlds.
Kaela narrowed her search. Battle history, colonization logs, geological scans, even public myth databases. She found scraps—nothing whole.
Finally, a single snippet surfaced from a decommissioned military archive.
"Xelthora was the site of a major battle over a millennium ago. The details are unknown. No official attempts at recolonization. Civilian expeditions have never returned."
Then: End of file.
Kaela's lips tightened.
Alenya came back on-screen. "I'm getting nothing either. It's like someone scrubbed the whole damn planet out of the net."
"Doesn't feel like a salvage op," Kaela muttered. "Feels like bait."
Alenya was quiet a beat. "You think the Mica Crystals have something to do with it?"
"Absolutely. But whatever they are... the EAC doesn't control them. Someone higher up does."
The girls stared at each other through the screen, unspoken thoughts swirling between them.
"…We still doing it?" Alenya asked, her tone gentler now.
Kaela looked down at her hand. Trembling. Not from fear—but from the ache in her eye. Like the tech in her skull recognized that planet's name. Like something inside her wanted to flee. Or return.
"We do it," Kaela said.
Alenya nodded. "Alright. I'll be at the guild in an hour. Wait for me?"
"I'll go sign us up." Kaela stood. "This thing's bigger than we thought."
She ended the call.
The sign-up hall was far less crowded now, most of the mercenaries still recovering from the shock of Drake's speech. A few stood in quiet huddles, whispering. Others hovered around the equipment kiosks, already planning what to buy.
Kaela walked up to a terminal—a sleek obelisk of chrome and light. A glowing blue interface greeted her.
"Welcome, Mercenary. Confirm your registration for EAC Mission #XM-001: Operation Silent Crown."
Her brow furrowed at the code name. Silent Crown?
The screen continued:
Estimated Deployment: 1 Month
Destination: Xelthora
Duration: Unknown
Payment: Open Salvage (Excludes Mica Prism Crystals)
Rules of Engagement: Full Combat Clearance
Survival Rate: [Undisclosed]
Kaela placed her hand on the scanner. It read her identity.
Strayflare – Confirmed
Registration for self or squad?
"Squad of two," she said quietly.
The screen asked for her squadmate's ID. Kaela entered Alenya's credentials from memory.
A moment later:
Registration Confirmed.
Shuttle Access Authorized
Departure Countdown: 28 days
She stepped away, feeling the confirmation sink in like a weight settling on her spine.
One month to prepare.
Two months to reach a planet lost to time.
And maybe… something waiting there that shouldn't be remembered.