The military port's alarms wailed, a banshee's cry splitting the Xiao Yang night. The invading spaceship, its hull wreathed in flames, roared through the breached gate. Extinguishers hissed, spewing gray mist that cloaked the vessel in a spectral haze. Moments later, its thrusters stabilized, blue fire flaring with renewed vigor as the ship regained its sleek agility.
With a metallic screech, the hatch slid open. A dozen mechs leapt into the darkness, their jets flickering like fireflies. Parachutes and shock-absorbing energy shields deployed, cushioning the pilots against the jarring descent. The cockpit tremors shook their bones, but all landed intact.
Ya Ning's voice crackled through the comms, sharp and urgent. "Move! I'm taking a squad to disable the gate's lock—our backup ships need a clear path." He sprinted toward the control systems, a handful of mercenaries at his heels.
Bai Sha, Yan Jingyi, and Kaixin Greiz had a different mission: punch through the security garrison's defenses. This wasn't a noble operation—no banners, no glory. Bai Sha and Kaixin left their signature mechs behind, too recognizable from joint military drills. Instead, they piloted black-market rigs, high-cost but underpowered. Bai Sha had slaved over them, gutting and rebuilding each from core to chassis to match their skills, though the results were still a far cry from their custom machines. The mercenary pilots brought their own mechs, but Bai Sha, collaborating with legion techs, had upgraded them for the fight.
If the plan held, their full force would swarm the port, overwhelming the garrison with ease. But plans rarely held.
Kaixin Greiz was the least pleased. A beast-mech specialist, he thrived in his wolf-form rig, its silhouette unmistakably Greiz. Too conspicuous for this covert strike, Bai Sha had saddled him with a humanoid mech. She knew he loathed it but had no time for coddling, tweaking the rig to his specs as best she could.
The moment his boots hit the ground, Kaixin charged the white-armored garrison troops like a predator unleashed. His speed was feral, a shadow streaking through the night. Before the guards could raise their rifles, he was among them, his mech sweeping low, tripping a line of them with a single kick. He leapt, spinning midair, engines snarling as he delivered a cannon-like roundhouse, sending the rest sprawling.
Bai Sha watched, bemused. "…" His mood was foul, but he'd restrained himself—no drawn weapons, no fatalities. Yet.
Jingyi, laser whip half-uncoiled, froze as the guards crumpled. She'd anticipated Kaixin's efficiency but still sighed. "This rig's not your beast—it's not built for brawling. Ease up." She'd equipped him with ranged weapons, knowing his discomfort with humanoid mechs, but he'd stolen her close-combat role.
"Doesn't matter how," Kaixin said, his gaze icy as more guards rallied. "Clear the trash first."
Minutes later, an explosion echoed above, muted, without smoke or flame. Ya Ning's voice cut through: "Gate lock's down. Backup's clear."
"Advance," Bai Sha ordered. "No faces, no names."
Anonymity was paramount. Voices masked, identities obscured—standard for mercenaries, and Bai Sha's team wielded the tech with practiced ease. Overhead, missiles screamed, the garrison's anti-air batteries roaring to life. More ships poured through the open gate, dodging warheads with acrobatic precision, their short-range particle cannons clashing with the defense turrets. The port erupted into a maelstrom of smoke and fire.
The garrison reeled. "These are pirates?" a soldier stammered. "They're nothing like the ones we've fought!"
"They're too strong—trained, mobile, matching us move for move!" another cried. "They're not soldiers, so how—"
The "pirates'" prowess sowed panic. If outlaws fought like this, frontier garrisons might as well surrender. Pirates once fled at the sight of uniforms; now, the guards' hearts stuttered as the mechs advanced, their fear carving a weak spot in the defensive line.
Bai Sha's vanguard smashed through, racing for the port's control tower. The security chief was likely there, and with Salmer Greiz tied to Xiao Yang's elite, interrogating the chief was their fastest lead. This was a blitz—speed over subtlety.
Before they reached the tower, garrison mechs intercepted. A towering, modified heavy mech drew a massive laser cannon, unleashing a cascade of white light. Bai Sha and Jingyi rolled their mechs aside, the beam gouging a smoking crater where they'd stood.
Two hammer-wielding mechs charged, their weapons crackling with electric frost. Jingyi, still crouched, lashed her whip, snaring one's wrist. Yanking downward, she forced it to stoop, then vaulted over its arm, planting a hand on the ground. Spinning, she looped the whip around its ankle and pulled, toppling it with a crash.
Under Bai Sha's covering fire—a storm of gunfire—Ya Ning darted forward, light-saber slashing. He severed the second hammer-mech's arm, sparks flying.
Only the cannon-wielder remained. Kaixin lunged, his mech soaring. Midair, he cocked a fist—then froze as his mech's hand morphed, sprouting twin gun barrels.
Kaixin: "???"
The enemy mech hesitated, startled, then raised its cannon, its beam capable of piercing ship armor. Kaixin, outgunned, swerved, his mech twisting in a clumsy aerial dance before crashing to the ground.
Silence gripped the scene, a heartbeat of absurdity.
Ya Ning, shadow-like, slipped behind the enemy, his saber piercing its power core. The cannon-mech collapsed. Kaixin's rig lay slumped, unmoving.
"I was wrong," Kaixin growled. "I never should've come."
"Quit whining," Jingyi snapped, cracking her whip on the ground. "Get up."
Kaixin stood, turning. "I'm going back to the ship—"
A silver cable snaked around his waist. He spun, expecting Jingyi's whip, but a sharp tug yanked him aside. Not a whip—metal cords, glinting and razor-edged, woven from an exotic alloy. They danced, slicing the air with a faint whistle, binding him in a web that pinned his mech's joints and weak points.
Pilots linked to mechs felt phantom sensations, but Bai Sha's tweaks for Kaixin's Imperial physiology dulled pain feedback. A severed limb would've been agony otherwise. The cords' owner, however, likely didn't know this.
"Interesting," a raspy voice cut through, cold and amused. A gray-purple mech stood nearby, silver cords gleaming in its black claw. "A mech pilot who can't even control their rig. With such shoddy skills, you dare storm Xiao Yang?"
"Like Xiao Yang's your kingdom," Bai Sha retorted, her voice a soft laugh.
The figure didn't respond, but the cords tightened around Kaixin, a silent threat.
"I don't care where you're from," the pilot said, his tone lazy but venomous. "You're just vultures, swooping in to seize frontier stars while the Federation's distracted. Too bad—you chose the wrong target."
His claw twitched, and more cords erupted, gossamer-thin yet unyielding, weaving a net that engulfed Bai Sha. She drew a silver spear from her mech's back, darting into the web. Her spear-tip threaded the gaps, swift and swallow-like, hooking most cords and pulling them taut.
A metallic zing rang out as she studied the cords, marveling inwardly: Frostwind Amethyst Silkworm silk, refined to cut steel, light yet unbreakable. Distracted, she missed the pilot's move—the cords twisted into a whip, lashing at her.
Bai Sha vaulted, flipping midair, flinging the tangled cords away. Her spear struck, a tempest of thrusts, each unpredictable yet heavy as a landslide. The gray-purple mech countered with a violet blade, its movements calm, parrying with surgical precision. Bai Sha's spear danced like a dragon, but her foe anticipated every feint, closing the distance, stifling her heavier strikes.
She sensed his scrutiny, mirroring her own. Both held back, probing for weaknesses.
Their mechs drew closer. Then, the enemy's blade glowed an ominous red. Blue flames burst from its thrusters, and it vanished. A purple arc split the sky, forming an eye-like spectre. As the "eye" opened, the blade's light flared, blinding. A numbing paralysis gripped the field, freezing all who saw it.
Kaixin's blood ran cold. He'd never seen Seven Kills' schematics, but he knew of Violet Dawn, a demon-blade forged from a Phantom Dawn Spider's remains. Its psychic assault could strip awareness, paralyzing pilots. Paired with Seven Kills, it formed a Legend-class nightmare.
A stunned pilot was a dead one. Salmer Greiz—for it could only be him—slashed at Bai Sha's waist, his blade a guillotine.
Yet Bai Sha faltered only a moment. Her spear snapped upward, aiming for Salmer's faceplate. He deflected, sparks erupting as spear met blade. Their weapons locked, trembling.
The standoff was brief but brutal, each strike a peak of speed and power.
"Who are you?" Salmer's voice was a brewing storm.
"Guess," Bai Sha said, chuckling. "We came for you, Salmer Greiz."
"Your mech's a beauty," she added, her tone feverish. "Flawless design, impeccable crafting." Salmer's lip twitched—Is she here to steal it?—but her next words stunned him. "Shame you don't deserve it anymore."
Salmer recoiled, a mix of rage and unease. "I don't deserve it? And you do?"
"Nah," Bai Sha said, dismissive. "Not my style."
Salmer: "…" His mech and pride felt utterly diminished.
"Looking to die?" he snarled, slashing. Bai Sha dodged, fluid as water.
"Don't get mad," she taunted. "It's just facts. Your mental strength's a shadow of its prime. Seven Kills and Violet Dawn are barely at thirty percent in your hands."
Salmer froze, his calm returning. She'd seen through him. Given their mechs' disparity, her skill likely outmatched his, explaining her cocky banter.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Who taught you those moves?"
Bai Sha's style was a chaotic blend: sparring with Emperor Cecil, Uriel's eclectic drills, and Xipes Ronin's archived footage. The Ronins were spear masters, a legacy from the Empire's founder. Every heir learned the spear, Xipes and Cecil included. Salmer, a Greiz, should've recognized their technique, yet Bai Sha's unorthodox flair baffled him.
She sighed. "…" Her "impure" spearmanship was that unrecognizable?
"I'm a Ronin," she said.
"Sect or royal?" Salmer, unable to place her disguised voice, sneered. "Here to avenge Xipes Ronin? If you want my head, come openly."
"Vengeance is part of it," Bai Sha said coolly. "But your crimes—treason, rebellion—will be judged in the Empire, not by my hand. We have laws."
Salmer bristled at her tone, venomous. "Typical Ronin—sanctimonious, arrogant, nauseating."
"I'm here for something else," Bai Sha said, cutting through. "I spoke to the Silver Nexus. It gave me your location."
Salmer fell silent, his expression unreadable through the mech.
"You remember the Nergal virus?" she continued. "Your mental decline's too severe for your age—you've been infected. Yet you're healthy, piloting with mental strength. You found a cure, didn't you?"
The purple glow on Salmer's blade faded. He looked up, icy. "So what?"
"I need the cure," Bai Sha said. "To save people—not just Ronin loyalists, but countless others. The virus threatens every Aresian. It's leaking, and who knows how many it'll infect. You hate the Ronins, fine—but the whole Empire?"
Silence.
Then, a low, manic laugh. "The virus leaked," Salmer said, bitter. "The Nexus moved fast. Seeing I'd never rise again, it launched its plan to ruin the Empire."
His gaze turned malicious. "Pathetic. Xipes's sacrifice was for nothing. She burned her mind to destroy the virus, yet the Nexus spread it anyway."
"It's all so… tragic."
He stared at the starless sky, then spoke, his voice flat but frigid. "I won't help you—or any Ronin. I'd rather watch you writhe. When the Empire crumbles, will you highborn still smile?"
Bai Sha's eyes darkened. "You're refusing?"
"A Ronin and a traitor Greiz, cooperating?" Salmer mocked. "We're blood enemies."
Bai Sha clicked her tongue. "You're forcing my hand."
She yanked Kaixin's bound mech forward, aiming an energy pistol at his cockpit. "No deal, I shoot your heir."
Ya Ning and Jingyi: "…"
Kaixin: "…!"
Salmer laughed, a booming, incredulous sound. "Heir? I have none." His laughter died as realization hit. "Kaixin?" He scoffed, certain. "Impossible. I saw his piloting—pathetic. No Greiz is that weak. You're bluffing."
"Why would I?" Bai Sha said, nudging the pistol. "I came prepared. Kaixin, say hi to your patriarch."
Kaixin: "…" Just let me die.
Bai Sha wasn't letting him off. Her mech's claw pried open his cockpit, ignoring his furious shouts over the comms: "Bai Sha Ronin! What's your game?"
"Why do you think I dragged you along?" she said, almost pleading. "Go meet your uncle—now!"
With a mechanical whir, she ejected Kaixin from the cockpit. He stumbled to his feet, glaring at Salmer's murderous stare, and muttered, "Uncle."
Kaixin's father and Salmer were close brothers; only Kaixin could call him uncle. Salmer gaped, sucking in a breath, heedless of the gun at Kaixin's head. "You little brat!" he roared. "Your piloting's a disgrace! I'm gone a few years, and the Greiz name's this tarnished?"
"That's not the point," Ya Ning interjected. "Your nephew's a hostage. Give us the cure, save a life—it's redemption."
"Shut up," Salmer snapped, his voice venom. "If the Greiz name's fallen this far, he's better dead!"
Kaixin's face burned, torn between explaining and silence. Uncle, it's Bai Sha's trick! But the words stuck.
"Cold-blooded, huh?" Bai Sha taunted. "Even tigers don't eat their young. He's your brother's son. Your disappearance crushed the family—Kaixin's borne years of scorn because of you. That's your failure as patriarch. Here's your chance to atone, and you'd let him die?"
Salmer's rage was palpable, veins bulging. "Shameless! Lecture me on morals while you hold a gun to my nephew? Hypocrite!"
"What else?" Bai Sha said, lounging in her mech. "I'm royal, you're a traitor. No cure, he dies."
Salmer's laugh was sharp. "You're comrades. You won't shoot."
"I forgot to introduce myself," Bai Sha said, her voice airy but edged. "I'm Bai Sha Ronin—Xipes's daughter. From what I know, her mental collapse ties to you. Add the Ronin-Greiz feud… don't I have reason to do something satisfying here?"
Salmer: "…"
Silence hung, heavy as a noose.
"You're gambling," Bai Sha said, aiming at Kaixin's arm. "Let's test it. I'll start with his arm—don't worry, I never miss. Arm, not shoulder. Three, two—"
"There's no cure!" Salmer roared, opening Seven Kills' cockpit and leaping out.
In the dim night, his face was a horror—pockmarked, scarred, as if gnawed and healed in patches, skin clinging to bone.
"See it?" he spat. "No cure exists. I preserved my mind by hosting Star-Eater parasites. They counter the virus by devouring mental energy, but it's a death sentence—my mind will burn out. I'm alive, but that's it. You call that a cure?"
Bai Sha stared, disbelief sinking her heart into an abyss. The Silver Nexus had lied. It never intended to yield.
The port's chaos surged around them, distant gunfire and mech clashes fading into a dull roar. Bai Sha's mech stood frozen, her spear still locked against Salmer's blade, now dull. Kaixin, freed from the cords, scrambled back to his cockpit, his face a mask of shame and fury. Jingyi and Ya Ning flanked Bai Sha, their mechs poised, ready for Salmer's next move.
Bai Sha's mind raced. The Nexus's betrayal was a gut-punch, but she couldn't falter. Salmer's ravaged face, his parasitic "solution," was no answer—yet he was their only lead. The virus's spread was a ticking bomb, and every Aresian, from pauper to prince, was at risk. She had to press harder, find a crack in his resolve.
"You're telling me you've got nothing else?" she said, her voice steady despite the sinking dread. "Eighteen years, Salmer. You've been hiding, scheming, dodging the Empire and the Nexus. You expect me to believe you've got no other cards?"
Salmer's laugh was brittle, his scarred face twisting. "You think I'm holding out? Look at me, Ronin. This—" he gestured to his ruined visage—"is what survival costs. The Nexus used me, then discarded me. You think I've got a secret lab, a miracle vial? I'm a dead man walking."
"Then why stay here?" Bai Sha shot back. "Why control Xiao Yang, pull strings with the security chief? You're not just surviving—you're building something."
Salmer's eyes narrowed, a flicker of wariness. "You're fishing."
"Am I?" Bai Sha leaned her mech forward, spear tip grazing his blade. "You've got the chief in your pocket, the port rigged to your liking. You knew we were coming—locked the civilian ports, played the meteor card. You're not a hermit, Salmer. You're a player."
He snorted, but the tension in his posture betrayed him. "You're clever, I'll give you that. But you're wasting breath. There's no cure, no grand plan. I'm here because it's the only place the Nexus can't touch me."
"Bull," Bai Sha said, her voice sharp. "The Nexus sold you out. It gave me your coordinates. You're not untouchable—you're expendable."
Salmer's blade twitched, a spark flaring where it met her spear. "Careful, girl. You're poking a beast."
"Good," she said, undaunted. "Maybe it'll wake you up. You hate the Ronins, fine. But the Nexus played you for a fool, and now it's burning the Empire down. You're an Aresian, same as me. You really want to watch it all collapse, knowing you could've stopped it?"
Salmer's silence was heavy, his gaze locked on the ground. For a moment, Bai Sha thought she'd cracked him. Then he laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "You're naive. The Empire's rotten—Ronins, Greiz, all of it. The Nexus is just the fire that'll burn it clean. Why should I save a corpse?"
"Because it's not just the Empire," Bai Sha said, her voice low, urgent. "It's people. Families, kids, soldiers who never asked for this. The virus doesn't care about your grudges. It'll eat everyone—your kin included."
Kaixin, now back in his mech, stiffened but said nothing. Salmer's eyes flicked to him, then away, his jaw tight.
"You're wasting your time," Salmer said, stepping back toward his cockpit. "Take your mercenaries and leave. Xiao Yang's my domain. Push further, and you'll regret it."
Bai Sha's grip tightened on her controls. "We're not done." She glanced at Kaixin, then back at Salmer. "You owe him, at least. Your family's suffered enough for your choices."
Salmer paused, one foot in his mech. "Owe him?" he said, his voice venomous. "The Greiz name's a curse because of me. I owe nothing."
"Then prove it," Bai Sha challenged. "Give us something—anything. A lead, a name, a place. You've been fighting the virus longer than anyone. You know more than you're saying."
Salmer's scarred face twisted, a storm of emotions—rage, guilt, resignation. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Not when lives are on the line," Bai Sha said. "Not when I know you're hiding something."
He stared at her, the port's alarms a distant wail. Then, slowly, he spoke. "There's a lab, deep in Xiao Yang's undercity. The Nexus ran experiments there—virus strains, test subjects. I… salvaged what I could after they abandoned it. Data, samples, maybe a clue. That's all I've got."
Bai Sha's heart leapt, but she kept her tone even. "Where?"
"Follow the old transit tunnels, sector seven. Look for a sealed vault—Nexus sigils on the door. It's guarded, and I don't know what's left. That's your problem."
"Why tell me now?" Bai Sha asked, wary.
Salmer's gaze flicked to Kaixin again, softer this time. "Maybe I'm tired of running. Or maybe I just want you off my star." He climbed into Seven Kills, the cockpit sealing. "Don't come back, Ronin. Next time, I won't talk."
His mech's thrusters flared, and he vanished into the smoke, cords trailing like a spider's web.
Bai Sha exhaled, her mind racing. "Ya Ning, Jingyi, secure the tower. We've got a lead."
"What about him?" Kaixin muttered, his voice thick with frustration.
"He's family," Bai Sha said softly. "He's hurting, but he's not gone. We'll deal with him later."
Jingyi cracked her whip, impatient. "Tower's waiting. Move."
They sprinted toward the control building, the port a battlefield behind them. Mercenary ships landed, disgorging troops that clashed with the garrison. The security chief, Bai Sha knew, was their next target—he'd lead them to Salmer's network, willingly or not.
Inside the tower, the chief sat, wine bottle in hand, unfazed by the chaos. His soldier, gun at his temple, trembled. "You're making a mistake," the chief said, sipping. "Xiao Yang's untouchable."
"Not anymore," Bai Sha said, her mech bursting through the door, spear gleaming. "Talk, or I carve that bottle out of your chest."
The chief's smile faltered, but his eyes gleamed with a dangerous confidence. "You're too late, girl. The master's already moving."
In the Capital Star, Zhou Ying's console pinged with Bai Sha's update: Lab located. Moving in. Zhou Wei, leaning on a cane, nodded. "She's close. We need to mobilize."
On Youdu Star, Emperor Cecil stared at the stars, Bai Sha's message burning in his mind: I'll find it. The Nexus's shadow grew, but his niece's fire was a blade, cutting through the dark—toward salvation or doom.