"Some thoughts bury themselves, not to sleep, but to bloom in soil we forgot we laid." - Free Repentance.
Kali sat slouched on a low, threadbare sofa near the floor-to-ceiling window, one arm draped along the backrest, the other nursing a lukewarm cup of synth-caf. Beyond the glass, the Jacob's Ladder loomed, a gleaming monolith of dark alloy stretching from the heart of Medri's core sector into the upper clouds. The planetary elevator, coiling up like some mechanical serpent, was the only sanctioned passage off-world since orbital flight had been outlawed decades ago.
He stared at it for a long time, watching shuttles slide like beads along its length, ferrying cargo and personnel from Theraxis' surface to whatever awaited beyond. His reflection ghosted in the glass, sharp-eyed, distant, tougher than he remembered, a far cry of who he had been before everything changed.
His thoughts drifted back to the ambush. Two days ago. That sudden plunge into chaos when they'd been hit on the Medri highways. They hadn't just lost the cargo though that alone was disastrous. They'd lost Corvus, and most of the greenbloods who had come on the mission with them. New recruits, barely past training, faces he hadn't known well, but faces all the same. Gone. Smudged out of the world like chalk from a wall.
To him, they'd been nameless, just uniforms and voices. But to someone, somewhere, they were family. Friends. Lovers. People whose absence would hollow out lives.
Corvus, though… that one hurt in ways he hadn't expected.
Naomi had scarcely said a word since then. She'd shut herself in one of the apartment rooms, door locked, lights off, comms silent. No sarcastic quips. No morning complaints over tasteless ration bars. Just absence. She and Corvus had been like halves of the same reckless coin, always bickering, always teasing, always covering each other's backs. Losing him must've torn a hole through her chest.
Kali hadn't knocked. He didn't know if he should. Didn't know what he'd say if she opened the door.
So he sat there instead, the echo of silence growing in the room around him, watching the ladder and wondering whether climbing it meant escaping, or just leaving all your ghosts behind for someone else to clean up.
It wasn't just the two of them holed up in the high-rise apartment the city officials had provided. Markus and Priene were there too, silent sentinels of what remained. A squad that had once been nearly a dozen strong, now whittled down to four. The quiet stretched between them like dried blood on concrete. Everyone carried something they hadn't before: an edge in their eyes, a gravity in the way they moved, like they'd aged a decade in the span of two days.
The apartment itself was clinical—sterile walls, modular furniture, a city-issued kitchenette that looked untouched. Outside, the towers of Medri blinked with neon and corporate insignias, but inside, the air was heavy with unspoken grief and coiled tension. No one wanted to talk about the ambush, not directly. Not yet.
Markus had taken to the balcony most nights, smoking recycled tobacco and staring down at the grid of streets below. His usual bark of authority had dulled. He still gave orders, but there was something brittle behind them now, as though even he knew the structure he upheld was buckling beneath their feet.
Priene, meanwhile, was more withdrawn than ever. She spent hours tending her gear in ritualistic silence, sharpening her blades until they gleamed like slivers of starlight. She had saved Kali's life, and he'd barely managed to thank her.
Four of them remained. Four stories clinging together at the ragged edge of a mission that had gone from routine to catastrophic in a matter of minutes. And the worst part was, they knew it wasn't over. There'd be follow-ups, interrogations, retaliation. The cargo was gone, but the consequences weren't.
Not even close.
A knock at the door broke the heavy silence. Priene was the one to rise, her movement quiet and controlled as always. She opened it without a word.
The man who stepped inside was unlike anyone Kali had seen before. He wasn't Rusa, nor any of the other known species he'd encountered on Theraxis. He was compact, short enough to brush the edge of midget height, with skin the color of twilight, a smooth, dusky purple that caught the light strangely, like polished stone. A long, sinuous tail swayed lazily behind him with each step, almost in time with his breath. His clothes were neat but practical, city-regulation boots, a reinforced coat tailored for mobility, and some kind of discreet data rig at his wrist.
"How are you holding up?" the man asked Priene, his voice calm but laced with genuine concern.
"I'm well enough," she replied, each word carefully measured.
The man exhaled quietly, like someone who had hoped for a different answer but accepted the one he got. Without asking, he moved to the center of the room and sat on the edge of the low table. His tail curled around one boot absently. "Get Markus," he said, and Priene nodded once before vanishing down the hall.
He turned his gaze to Kali, appraising him in a way that wasn't unfriendly, but definitely deliberate. "Gather around," he said simply.
Kali simply, since the man seemed important enough.
A few moments later, Markus appeared, half-dressed and visibly annoyed at being interrupted, but when he saw the visitor, his posture straightened.
"Darius," Markus said, crossing his arms. Not quite warm, but definitely familiar.
The stranger gave a nod, then addressed the group. "My name is known to most of you," he began, "but the rest of you can call me Darius. I work for and with ministerial office under the proxy governor, and I've been a long-time friend to your commander."
He let the silence stretch just a little longer, then continued in a measured tone.
"The object you were transporting is believed to be a Deus relic, origin and effect unknown." His words were precise, clinical, like he was delivering a diagnosis rather than a revelation. "Your assailants were identified as members of the Willow Teeth, a terrorist group that rose out of the growing dissent among the Kirel natives." He gave a small shrug. "At least, that's the official story being peddled to the press."
Priene, seated on the armrest of a luxurious chair, leaned forward slightly. "And what's the truth?"
Darius' expression tightened, a flicker of something hard passing over his features. "Hard to tell," he admitted. "I don't know who hired your uncle to move the cargo—or who it was ultimately meant for. Best guess? It's between the proxy governor and SynSpec. Both have reasons, and both have the power to keep the truth buried."
He paused, studying each of them as if weighing how much more he should say. His tail gave an irritated flick.
"There's a silent war brewing between them for control over this city. Medri's polished towers and Kirel's slums are just two sides of the same battlefield now. The Willow Teeth? Most likely just another tool weaponized by someone with deeper pockets and darker ambitions." The room seemed to grow heavier with each word. "To uncover the real players behind this mess," Darius finished, his voice low and deliberate, "we're going to need your uncle to name who hired him."
Markus rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking aloud. "We need to get back to Fort Harlow," he finally said, his voice low and certain.
"Yes, you do," Darius agreed with a nod. "But—" he added, lifting a finger, "investigations are still underway here. Someone will need to stay behind, cooperate with the authorities and such."
The room fell quiet for a beat before Kali stepped forward. "I'll do it," he offered without hesitation. "I'll stay."
Markus arched a brow, a lopsided smirk pulling at his mouth. "Any reason for the enthusiasm, kid?"
Kali shrugged, trying to play it casual.
"My first time here. Figured I might as well see the sights.." His voice held a lightness he didn't feel. "Besides, you and Priene would handle the open roads a hell of a lot better than me."
Markus snorted but there was no malice in it. "Alright," he said after a moment, glancing between them. "We'll take Naomi with us. Fort Harlow's familiar walls and a few friendly faces should do her some good."
Darius nodded, satisfied. "Good. I'll make the necessary arrangements. You'll have my help while you're here—just keep your head low. Medri's beautiful from a distance, but up close?" His tail gave a sharp twitch. "She's a snake pit."