The passageways of the Veilbreaker were like arteries running through its massive frame. The ship's crew flowed through them, nearly every destination critical to its function. Aetherveil stood at an intersection, observing them as they quietly marched to their stations. She looked at her reflection on the polished cylindrical exterior of one of the many oxygen generators secured to the bulkhead.

  She hadn't heard the voices in days.

  “Have you given up?“ she asked her reflection, smirking.

  Alarms started wailing across the ship, a repeated message looping.

  “Battle stations. This is not a drill.“

  She ran through the passageways, brushing up against other members of the crew as they raced to man their stations. Upon reaching the command center, she paused for a moment at the entrance to catch her breath. She walked in briskly and positioned herself next to Lilyon.

  Lilyon looked at Aetherveil, finally meeting her eyes.

  “A Nexus fleet has jumped into the orbital threshold of Targus III,” she said, pointing at the tactical displays.

  Aetherveil narrowed her eyes—her hands trembling as she gripped the console.

  “Those signatures suggest that's the bulk of its navy,” she said nervously. “Why would it expose itself like this?“

  The displays lit up with additional signature profiles, each one a new warship.

  “Hostile contacts jumped outside of the Nexus fleet's formation,” an officer relayed. “Sensors are picking up Nexus signatures.“

  Lilyon and Aetherveil looked at each other with confusion.

  “If those are part of the Nexus's fleet, why are they—”

  “They're firing on each other!“ An officer reported in disbelief.

  The displays reported weapons fire exchanged between the two fleets—ship signatures vanishing on both sides.

  “What does that mean, Aetherveil?“ Lilyon asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

  Aetherveil slowly shook her head.

  “I don't—”

  “The unknown Nexus fleet split its forces,” the officer shouted, cutting her off. “Nearly two hundred ships are heading straight for us!“

  Lilyon faced the officers directly. They manned the stations that surround the central command console.

  “They outnumber us three to one. The coalition fleets have abandoned us,” she said.

  Aetheveil placed herself next to Lilyon, exchanging glances before she spoke.

  “Our ships are bigger, faster, and manned by the most skilled crews in the galaxy. We will beat them, or we will all die together.“

  The tactical displays started buzzing, flashing in red as a warning message appeared.

  Weapons Lock—Deploying M.I.R.A.G.E.

  The clatter of debris deflecting off the Veilbreaker's hull reverberated through the ship as missiles detonated nearby. The MIRAGE drones were working flawlessly—drawing fire away from the ship. They mimicked its signature and looped false telemetry data, behaving as digital shipyards reproducing a new Veilbreaker.

  Weapons crews prepared the next batch of drones for deployment. As crews rolled them to their respective launch bays, a sudden, muted thump beat through the hull in their section.

  “What is that?“ one asked, pointing at the bulkhead in front of them.

  It was rapidly changing colors, glowing faintly before molten metal began to drip onto the floor.

  “Plasma!“ another called out. “Clear out!“

  A hole tore through the weakened bulkhead, air rushing through the breach—a hiss that transformed into a roar. An emergency hatch slammed shut. The weapons chief watched as the crew stormed back into the compartment, picking up his handset to report the breach.

  Aetherveil and Lilyon were focused on the tactical displays, almost through tunnel vision. Officers were muttering at their stations.

  “Our destroyers need to stay focused on the corvettes. Keep them out of our formation,” Lilyon ordered. “Train our accelerators on the dreadnought.“

  “Yes, ma'am. Targeting the dreadnought,” an officer repeated.

  “Hull breach alarm! Starboard launch bays!“ another officer called out. “The breach is secured, but we have lost countermeasures.“

  The handset next to Aetherveil buzzed. She quickly glanced at it, picked it up briefly, then set it back down with a huff.

  “That was weapons. A plasma attack breached the drone bay,” she said, turning her head toward Lilyon.

  Loud, consecutive thuds resonated through the hull as the accelerators fired on the Nexus dreadnought. Slight vibrations rattled the command center.

  “Commander, the dreadnought is adrift,” an officer reported. “We've damaged their reactors.“

  The tactical displays started buzzing and flashing, reporting eminent reactor failure.

  “Brace yourselves, it's going critical!“ Lilyon yelled, tightly gripping the console.

  Moments later, the dreadnought erupted in a fiery cascade of explosions. The ship quaked violently as debris crashed into the hull.

  “Aetherveil, we need to talk.”

  Aetherveil sighed.

  “How are we doing?“ she asked.

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  “We're holding up,” Lilyon replied.

  A rapid beeping cut through the noise, the console displayed a new alert.

  “Large, unknown signature detected,” an officer called out.

  “Where is it?“ Aetherveil demanded.

  “It jumped a few kilometers outside of our formation. It's holding,” the officer said.

  “Do you know what that is?“ Lilyon asked

  Aetherveil clenched her jaw. “I have an idea,” she said. “Prepare a shuttle, I am boarding that ship.“

  >>>>>***********************<<<<<

  Nexus patrols carefully scanned around the debris along their path. Locke, sandwiched between to broken slabs, patiently waited for it to move on somewhere else. The Revenants stood in front of him, pausing. He stared at their legs, mostly because there was nothing else to look at.

  He counted the strands in their hydraulic muscle fibers before they had finally moved along. Slipping out of his hiding spot, he kept to the mounds of stone, silently weaving through the debris of what used to be an indutrial city on Titanforge.

  He bought information from an intelligence broker on Vex—a Frontier smuggling planet beyond the reaches of any authority, and even farther from the war. It was there that he could find whatever he needed to hit the Nexus again, and again, and again—as many times as it took for them to end his misery.

  The broker pointed him to a command hub on Titanforge. He promised it contained a treasure trove of Nexus intel that would lead him to his next target—a project deemed the utmost importance to Nexus operations.

  Locke entered the hub, and just like the mission before it, it was lacking in security. He strode through its cavernous halls, staying alert for any Revenants that may enter from either side.

  His eyes roamed the walls of the corridor illuminated by dimly lit emerald lights, searching for any doorways he could escape through if he were to encounter any of the Nexus's machines. There was nowhere to go but forward or back.

  Either he would find something worth the risk, or his reward would be as a corpse rotting in the grand halls of some hub on the surface of a polluted junkyard for no other reason than simply being fleeced by a black market info broker.

  He entered into a chamber with little features to speak of. In the center, there was a giant console, but seemingly no way to interact with it.

  He swung his rifle either direction, scanning the area for any sentries who may be standing by to jump him. Each step soft and precise, he knew he needed to maintain a threshold of silence necessary to avoid detection.

  “Where is it,” he whispered, searching the console for an interface.

  He found a flat surface—one that stood out amongst the matte, textured finished of the panels as glasslike and polished.

  He stood over it, trying to figure out how to interact with it. His hands searched for buttons or switches, but any that were present seemed more like they were for aesthetics over purpose.

  He turned around and it turned on, displaying streams of data. He took his pack off and searched through it, remembering he had Nexus scrap in his bag.

  “Just a bunch of circuit boards. Maybe one of them turned it on…but which one?“

  Locke shrugged and strapped it back on, then started going through the data.

  “He really came through,” he said quietly.

  He came across a file pointing to Epsilon VI, although there was little else to go on.

  “That's my next target.“

  To him, anything that redacted must be incredibly valuable. An asset that the Nexus had to protect from his unwanted eyes discovering it.

  He didn't find any answers, only more questions. Above all else, a new target.

  >>>>>***********************<<<<<

  Aetherveil watched the battle unfold from the cockpit of her shuttle as the pilot cautiously guided their vessel toward the Nexus capital ship. Ships broke apart, their debris scattering in every direction. Explosions were brilliant, but silent, light shows—a stark contrast from the ground combat Aetherveil was accustomed to.

  The canopy of her craft auto-darkened as a Luminarian destroyer fired on a Nexus corvette. Its structure broke in half, a chain of blinding flashes illuminating the void. The momentum of its aft half propelled it into a nearby Nexus cruiser—spitting out strings of alloy confetti and knocking it off its axis as its dampeners struggled to compensate.

  The Nexus ship was massive. Aetherveil's eyes widened as she tried to grapple with the scale of it as it continued to expand in her visual field. She didn't feel like she was getting any closer. Its hull stretched endlessly, its black exterior reflecting the lights and flashes of the battle behind them. Long stretches of the all too recognizable green light illuminated its exposed framework.

  Aetherveil furrowed her brow as she tapped her finger against the nav display.

  “That can't be right,” she said, tapping the display harder. “Run diagnostics on the sensors.“

  “Commander, the sensors are operating correctly,” the pilot replied, looking at the instruments. “We are still a kilometer away.“

  Static sounded from the comms—pierced by a distorted, mechanical voice.

  “Follow the designated approach path to the port hangar.“

  Her shuttle eased into the cavernous hangar bay, it was dwarfed by the towering walls of black alloy. Emerald lights cast an eerie glow, their reflections stretching into infinity.

  The pilot landed with skillful precision—Aetherveil hardly felt the impact of the landing skids against the deck.

  She paused as she stepped off the ramp. She felt a powerful influence tug at her mind. It felt as if her brain was wriggling around. She knelt as the weight of her armor overcame her.

  Regaining her composure, every movement felt exhausting. She slowly recovered as she adjusted to the oppressive, alien atmosphere around her.

  Her grip never left the hilt of her sword as she strode to the hangar airlock. Each step was a cacophony of metal clashing against metal.

  She scanned around the frame of the vault-like hatch, looking for a way to open it. A single light slowly faded into a bright glow above the door. The door hummed to life, the motors reverberating across the hangar deck.

  Aetherveil's eyes narrowed as she slightly bent her knees, preparing to draw her sword. She saw humanoid figures behind the hatch, their outlines flickering. The lights inside the airlock turned on, the figures seemingly erased by the blue hue cast throughout the compartment. She stepped in, and the door closed behind her with a loud clang.

  She slowly entered the passageway, a large corridor designed to comfortably fit the hulking frames of Revenants. The ship felt empty and lifeless as the low hum of the ventilation system kept her senses busy.

  Aetherveil's knees buckled, her hands wrapping around her head. Her neural interface was no longer transmitting to her armor, but receiving from something else.

  She was lying on a table. Excruciating pain covered every inch of her body. She tried to move her arms or legs—they were frozen. She was surrounded by lights, but everything was out of focus.

  To her left and right, tubes pumped blood and other fluids. The air reeked of blood. She could see tables—towering, colorless beings were operating on organs. Their long, spindly hands weaving wires into flesh as if stitching fabric.

  She rotated her eyes downward, her chest cavity was open. The beings were threading wires into her. They looked at her with their dark, featureless eyes. Her eyes widened, and everything became sharper.

  Her gaze returned to the ceiling. She could see herself reflecting off of the metallic skin that covered it. Her face was stained with red. They hollowed her out. She wanted to scream, to fight, to resist, but she was a prisoner in her own body.

  Another being peered over her head, it's empty eyes looking directly into hers. It was holding a device, it whirred like the sound of a saw. The sound reverberated in her skull as it lowered toward her head—a helpless spectator to her own mutilation.

  Her vision began to fade.

  As her sight returned, she was lying on the passageway deck. The visions lingered on, but she didn't feel the pain anymore.

  The visions were replaced by whispers, their voices deep and distorted.

  “I know what you are, Aetherveil. Do you?“

  Her breath was shaky as she couldn't get the images out of her mind. She placed her hand on her chest, slowly sliding it down. She got back on her feet, continuing deeper into the ship.

  She reached a door where pods could be seen through the transparent panels. The compartment was expansive, with rows and rows of clear pods lining the bulkhead. Her eyes widened as she made out what filled them—people. They were motionless, their eyes closed.

  “Are they alive?“

  She leaned in closer, her fingers brushing the glass as the unsettling realization struck her—they were being used for something.

  She turned away, her lips tightening into a frown as she continued on her path through the passageway. Answers awaited her deeper within the ship.

  The air grew colder the farther she traveled, layers of ice coating the corridor. The sound of electricity hissed louder—a sign she was getting closer to what she was looking for.

  She reached a door. It was covered in ice and radiated a strong sense of dread. She slowly drew her sword. It had been with her through countless battles, and now it would lead her into whatever lay beyond this door.

  The hatch grinded open—groaning, the sharp tinkling sound of its frozen exterior shattering and spilling on the deck.