The End Of the Beginning

The cockpit of the Ravenblade buzzed with faint activity as Asus keyed into the comm system, his fingers gliding over the glowing console. The sleek lines of the docking hub loomed ahead, the massive structure dotted with the activity of arriving and departing ships. He activated the outbound channel, his calm voice carrying through the static.

"This is Ravenblade, designation TK-7, requesting permission to dock," Asus said, his tone steady as his helmeted head tilted toward the navigation display. "Requesting a vector and hangar assignment for refueling and temporary hold."

The reply came almost immediately, the crisp voice of a station controller cutting through the comm. "Ravenblade, your request is acknowledged. Proceed to hangar 49-Delta. Designated approach vector is 217.62. Maintain speed under 100 KPH. Welcome to the hub."

Asus tapped a quick acknowledgment on the console. "Copy that, Hangar Control. Adjusting course for hangar 49-Delta."

The docking vector illuminated on his display, a glowing line arcing gently toward the hangar's entrance. Asus's fingers moved with practiced precision, adjusting the ship's trajectory as the Ravenblade angled toward the station. The hum of the engines shifted slightly, their tone softening as he decreased speed.

Through the viewport, the hangar came into view—an enormous rectangular cavity set into the station's lower structure, its interior illuminated by strips of pale-blue light. Docking cranes and service arms lined the walls, their articulated forms poised like metallic sentinels ready to assist incoming vessels. Inside, cargo freighters, personal shuttles, and maintenance drones moved with clockwork precision, each operation a small cog in the vast machine of the hub.

Asus nudged the controls, the Ravenblade banking smoothly toward the glowing entry point of the hangar. His movements were measured, deliberate—this wasn't the chaotic urgency of combat flight, but the precision of threading a needle through a moving fabric.

"Reducing thrust," he muttered to himself as the engines hummed lower, the ship gliding gracefully toward the entrance. The yaw control adjusted minutely as the Ravenblade passed through the shimmering energy barrier that sealed the hangar from the vacuum of space. The transition was seamless, the barrier rippling briefly before settling back into place behind them.

Inside the hangar, Asus's gaze darted between the guidance lights on the floor and the data streaming across his display. The docking systems communicated their final approach instructions, guiding him toward a small, raised platform near the hangar's center.

"Approach vector clear," Asus said aloud, his hands steady on the controls. He activated the ship's maneuvering thrusters, their soft bursts of blue light adjusting the Ravenblade's position by millimeters at a time. The ship rotated gently, aligning perfectly with the platform as the automated systems confirmed the match.

"Bringing her down," he said, his tone calm but focused. The landing struts extended with a soft mechanical whir, their reinforced frames locking into place. The thrusters fired in controlled bursts, easing the ship lower until the faint thud of contact signaled a successful landing.

The console emitted a soft tone of confirmation as the docking clamps engaged, securing the Ravenblade to the platform. Asus leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the armrests as he let out a slow breath.

"Ravenblade docked and secured," he said into the comm, acknowledging the station's automated systems. The voice of the controller came through again, crisp and efficient.

"Docking complete. Welcome to Hangar 49-Delta, Ravenblade. Refueling and standard maintenance services are available upon request. Have a productive stay."

Asus tapped a final acknowledgment, powering down the engines as the cockpit lights dimmed slightly. Outside the viewport, a pair of drones approached, their articulated arms preparing to run preliminary scans of the ship.

He stood, adjusting the straps on his armor and sliding his helmet into place. "Time to see what this hub has to offer," he muttered, heading toward the ship's hatch. Behind him, the soft hum of the hangar enveloped the Ravenblade, a small island of precision and calm amid the endless churn of the universe.

The interior of the hub was bustling with activity as Asus and Crystal walked through the docking corridor toward the station's central lobby. The air was filled with the low hum of machinery, the occasional crackle of announcements over the PA system, and the chatter of travelers and workers. The polished metal floors gleamed under the soft glow of overhead lights, and the scent of fuel and coolant lingered faintly in the air.

Crystal kept pace with Asus, her arms crossed as her eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar environment. "So," she said, her tone curious, "what exactly do these hubs and hangars offer? I mean, aside from a place to park the ship."

Asus glanced at her, his helmet reflecting the bright lights of the corridor. "A lot," he said simply, his voice calm. "Stations like this are built to cater to every kind of traveler—freighters, explorers, mercenaries, you name it. If you need it, odds are you'll find it here."

Crystal raised a brow. "Like what? Be specific."

Asus nodded toward the corridor ahead as they approached the lobby, the wide open space beyond revealing the vibrant activity of the station. "Alright. You've got your basics—fueling stations and ship repair services. They'll handle everything from patching up hull damage to recalibrating your systems. Need new components for the ship? There are shops that specialize in upgrades, from better shields to more efficient thrusters."

He gestured to the left, where a row of sleek storefronts lined the curved wall of the lobby. "Over there, you'll find weapon dealers. They stock everything from small arms to heavy ordnance for ships. Ballistics, plasma, energy weapons—you name it. If it can shoot, they sell it."

Crystal's eyes widened slightly. "That's... comforting."

"Depends on how you use it," Asus said with a faint smirk. "Then you've got your personal gear shops. Armor, utility tools, EVA suits, medical supplies. Some of the bigger stations even carry experimental tech if you know where to look."

He pointed toward a glowing sign that read 'Catering & Provisions.' "Food and drink, obviously. Not just rations, either. Fresh produce, pre-cooked meals, snacks—stuff to keep you going on long trips. Some stations even have high-end restaurants if you're feeling fancy."

Crystal glanced at the sign, her stomach growling faintly despite herself. "What about entertainment? Anything for people who aren't glued to ship consoles all day?"

Asus chuckled. "Plenty. Arcades, VR lounges, holo-cinemas—depending on the station, you'll find more than enough ways to kill time. Some hubs have actual casinos if you're feeling lucky."

Crystal's brow shot up. "Casinos? Seriously?"

He nodded. "Welcome to the galaxy, Crystal. People will gamble on anything out here—credits, gear, even ships. You just have to know when to walk away."

They reached the edge of the lobby, where a massive circular directory floated holographically in the center, displaying a detailed map of the station's levels. Asus pointed toward a section labeled 'Habitation & Medical.'

"If you're staying longer than a day, the station has hab modules you can rent. Some are basic, just a bed and a terminal, but others are more like hotel suites. And if you get hurt, there's usually a medbay or clinic nearby. Fully equipped—surgery, advanced biomed, the works."

Crystal tilted her head, her curiosity growing. "What about... less legal stuff? Do stations like this cater to smugglers or mercs?"

Asus's tone became quieter, but his posture remained relaxed. "Most stations do, though it's not on the map. Black market vendors, backroom arms deals, forged documents—if you dig deep enough, you'll find someone willing to do business, no questions asked. Just don't draw attention unless you're ready to deal with station security."

Crystal frowned. "Doesn't that... make these places dangerous?"

"Not if you keep your head down," Asus said. "Hubs like this thrive on balance. They cater to everyone, from law-abiding traders to rogue operators. As long as you pay your fees and don't cause trouble, no one cares what you do."

She nodded slowly, her gaze scanning the bustling crowd in the lobby. "So, basically, these places are like... space cities."

"That's one way to put it," Asus said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Now, come on. Let's grab what we need and get back to the Ravenblade before you decide to buy something you don't need."

Crystal grinned. "No promises."

The weapon shop was tucked into a corner of the station's bustling marketplace, its glowing sign displaying the name "Talon's Armory" in bold, red letters. Inside, the air was thick with the faint tang of oil and ozone, a telltale scent of freshly calibrated energy weapons. Racks of rifles, pistols, and heavier ordnance lined the walls, each piece meticulously maintained and displayed like works of art.

Crystal followed Asus inside, her gaze darting around the shop as the faint hum of a weapon diagnostic station buzzed in the background. The shop owner, a wiry man with sharp eyes and a cybernetic arm, leaned casually against the counter, a faint grin tugging at his lips as they approached.

"What can I do for you two?" the man asked, his voice smooth but tinged with curiosity as his gaze swept over Asus's imposing form. His eyes lingered briefly on Asus's helmet before flicking back to the calm but focused stance of his new customer.

"I need something specialized," Asus said, his tone direct. "Something that can punch through Primordial plating."

The owner's grin faltered slightly, his eyebrows rising. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter as he studied Asus carefully. "Primordials, huh?" he said, his voice quieter now. "That's... a tall order. Not many folks come in looking for gear that'll handle something like that."

"Do you have anything?" Asus pressed, his tone steady but firm.

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then turned and beckoned them to follow. "Maybe. Got a few pieces in the back that might fit the bill. Not cheap, though, and definitely not for amateurs."

They followed him through a side door into a more secure section of the shop. The room was smaller, dimly lit, but the weapons displayed here were clearly in a different league—sleeker, deadlier, each one radiating a sense of purpose.

The owner gestured to the first weapon, a long, matte-black sniper rifle resting on a reinforced stand. Its barrel was intricately grooved, designed to vent plasma heat efficiently. "This is the Eclipse Mk-II Anti-Material Rifle," he said, patting the weapon. "Plasma-based, with a tungsten-core projectile for maximum penetration. Designed to melt through vehicle armor, but with a direct hit, it'll give even a Primordial something to think about. Downside? One shot heats the whole chamber—takes time to cool between rounds."

Asus nodded, his gaze moving to the next piece as the owner gestured toward it. This one was a compact, angular shotgun with a glowing energy cell embedded in the stock. "The Titan Breacher," the man explained. "Electro-kinetic rounds that discharge on impact. Close range, obviously, but each shot creates an EMP burst that can short out shielding systems or stun anything with a nervous system. Won't outright kill a Primordial, but it'll slow them down."

Crystal raised an eyebrow at the sleek shotgun. "That sounds terrifying."

The owner smirked. "You'd be surprised how many folks walk out with one. But if you're looking for something more versatile..." He turned to the last weapon, his cybernetic fingers tapping it lightly. "This might be more your speed."

The weapon in question was an LMG, its body a blend of reinforced alloy and energy-conducting components. Its stock and grip were adjustable, and the barrel was fitted with a multi-phase compensator to handle recoil. The magazine system was modular, designed to accommodate both energy cells and physical rounds.

"This is the Vanguard Arclight MG," the owner said, his tone carrying a note of pride. "Hybrid design—fires ballistic rounds laced with high-frequency energy. Semi-auto, burst, and full-auto modes, depending on what you need. In burst mode, it delivers three tightly packed rounds, each designed to strike the same point for maximum penetration. Semi-auto mode keeps it precise for conserving ammo. And full-auto? Well, that's for when things get messy."

Asus stepped closer, his fingers brushing over the smooth metal of the weapon as he inspected it. The craftsmanship was impeccable, and the weapon's design radiated a sense of lethal efficiency. "What's the rate of fire?" he asked.

"Full-auto caps at 800 rounds per minute," the owner replied. "Burst mode fires at triple that, but only for short bursts. Semi is as fast as your trigger finger. And it's built to handle the heat—overheating won't be an issue."

Asus hefted the weapon, testing its weight. It was heavier than standard issue but balanced, the kind of weapon that demanded respect from its user. He toggled the fire mode selector, listening to the faint click as it shifted between settings.

"I'll take it," Asus said, setting the weapon back on the counter with a firm nod.

The owner grinned. "Good choice. Comes with two energy cells and an extended magazine. I'll throw in a calibration kit for free—just because I want to hear the story of what you use it on someday."

Crystal watched as Asus finalized the transaction, her eyes darting between the weapon and the smirk on the owner's face. "This thing is... terrifyingly cool," she said, crossing her arms. "Do I even want to know why you need something that can punch through Primordials?"

Asus slid the weapon into the case provided by the owner, his tone calm as he replied, "Better to have it and not need it than the other way around."

Crystal frowned but said nothing, following him back toward the shop's main floor. As they walked, the faint hum of the station's activity surrounded them, but her mind lingered on the deadly elegance of the weapon now secured in Asus's hands. 

Asus carefully secured the Vanguard Arclight MG into its padded case, his movements deliberate as Crystal hovered nearby, her arms crossed as if waiting for the inevitable revelation. The shop owner, leaning against the counter with an easy grin, watched them with curiosity. His cybernetic fingers tapped a rhythmic beat on the metal surface, his keen eyes narrowing slightly.

"So," the owner said, his tone casual but probing, "you've got the kind of credits that can buy a weapon like this, and you're looking for something to punch through Primordial plating. That's not your everyday shopping list. Care to share the story?"

Crystal's eyes darted to Asus, her brows raised as if to say Yeah, care to share?

Asus straightened, the weapon case locked and secure, and turned his helmeted gaze toward the owner. His posture was calm, unhurried, but his voice carried an undercurrent of calculated weight. "It's not much of a story," he began, leaning a hand casually on the counter. "More of a... necessity."

The owner's grin widened slightly, and he motioned for Asus to continue. "I've got time. Let's hear it."

Asus nodded once, as if humoring the man. "There's a job. High stakes, high payout. We're tracking down an old Primordial outpost deep in the Harwen Fringe—a place no one's had the guts to touch for decades. Word is, it's been abandoned by their kind, but you never know what they leave behind."

The owner tilted his head, clearly intrigued. "Abandoned by Primordials? Doesn't mean it's empty."

"Exactly," Asus said, his tone sharpening just enough to drive the point home. "The client wants something recovered. Artifacts, records—it doesn't matter. But the outpost is likely crawling with leftover defenses. Drones, automated turrets, maybe even something worse. And if by some miracle there's still one of them around..." He tapped the top of the weapon case with a gloved hand. "I need something that can put them down. Fast."

Crystal shifted slightly, her expression unreadable as she listened. The mixture of truth and fabrication in Asus's story was seamless—smooth enough to sound real, vague enough to avoid further probing.

The owner let out a low whistle, his grin growing as he leaned forward on the counter. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Most folks would run the other way if they even thought a Primordial was in the mix. But going after one of their outposts?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "That's either bravery or stupidity. Haven't decided which."

"Let's call it pragmatism," Asus said with a faint shrug. "The job pays enough to make the risk worth it. But only if I've got the right tools."

The owner studied him for a moment, his cybernetic fingers still tapping a steady rhythm. Finally, he straightened, his grin softening into something almost approving. "You've got a good head on your shoulders. Not many people walk in here with a story like that and leave with something this serious."

He reached under the counter, rummaging for a moment before pulling out an extended magazine, its polished casing catching the overhead light. "You're gonna need this," he said, sliding it across the counter toward Asus. "On the house. Call it a bonus for giving me a story worth remembering."

Asus picked up the magazine, inspecting it briefly before nodding. "Appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," the owner said, waving him off. "Just make sure you come back in one piece—and with another story. I like repeat customers who don't get themselves killed."

Asus chuckled faintly, the sound low and almost imperceptible. "I'll keep that in mind."

As they left the shop, Crystal glanced sideways at him, her arms still crossed. "So... Harwen Fringe, huh?"

Asus didn't look at her as he carried the case, his voice calm. "It worked, didn't it?"

Crystal rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smirk. "You're impossible."

"And efficient," Asus added dryly, his steps steady as they moved through the station's busy corridors.

Crystal walked alongside Asus through the bustling corridors of the station, her arms full of small bags from the various stops they'd made. The steady rhythm of the Ravenblade's docking platform was their destination, but curiosity gnawed at her as she glanced at the heavy case Asus carried. It wasn't just the weapon itself that puzzled her, but the sheer cost of it.

"You know," she said, breaking the silence as they turned a corner, "I've been meaning to ask. Where exactly did you get the credits to afford something like that? That kind of firepower doesn't come cheap."

Asus didn't reply immediately, his helmeted gaze fixed ahead. They passed a group of technicians hauling equipment, the faint hum of a nearby transport ship buzzing in the air. Finally, he stopped near a quieter section of the corridor, setting the weapon case down carefully. Crystal tilted her head, watching as he reached into one of the compartments of his armor.

When he pulled his hand back, what he held in his palm was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

It was a coin, but not like any standard currency she was familiar with. The material was dark and matte, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. Intricate patterns ran along its surface—sharp lines and swirling engravings that seemed to shift subtly as her eyes moved over them. At the center of the coin was a faint, pulsing glow, a deep crimson light that seemed almost alive. It was mesmerizing and unsettling at the same time.

"This," Asus said, holding it up for her to see, "is a Mark of Dominion."

Crystal blinked, her brow furrowing. "A... what?"

"Primordial currency," he explained, his tone calm but laced with something heavier—an undercurrent of meaning she couldn't quite place. "Not something you'd find in any human market. Each one represents an achievement, a victory, or a claim. They're forged from the essence of what we are, bound to us, and used to barter when credits aren't enough."

Crystal stared at the coin, her gaze flicking between its strange glow and the intricate markings. "So, what—you just... carry these around and trade them like credits?"

"Not exactly," Asus said, slipping the coin back into its compartment. "Most Primordials wouldn't part with them unless they had to. They're worth far more than their weight in material value. To other species, they're just rare curiosities, but to a Primordial, they're... something else entirely."

Crystal tilted her head. "And this 'something else' was enough to get you that weapon?"

Asus picked up the case again, his posture steady as they resumed walking. "More than enough. The shopkeeper wouldn't understand its full significance, but he'd know it was valuable. Rare enough to cover what we needed."

Crystal frowned, her curiosity deepening. "So... you traded a piece of yourself for a gun? That doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd do lightly."

"It's not," Asus replied, his voice steady but quieter now. "But the only thing rarer than a Mark is a Primordial willing to hunt another Primordial. Nine times out of ten, that's the only reason you'd see one of us carrying gear meant to pierce our own plating."

Crystal's steps faltered slightly as she processed his words. "Wait... are you saying you—"

"I've done what needed to be done," he interrupted, his tone flat and final. "And I'll do it again if I have to. That's all you need to know."

Crystal fell silent, her gaze fixed ahead as they approached the docking platform. The Ravenblade came into view, its sleek frame gleaming under the artificial lights of the hangar. She shifted the bags in her arms, her mind racing with questions she wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Asus stopped at the ship's ramp, glancing back at her. "The weapon isn't for show, Crystal. If it ever comes to it, you'll understand why I needed it."

Crystal nodded slowly, following him up the ramp as the ship's hatch hissed open. "I just hope it doesn't come to that," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the ship's systems.

As the hatch sealed behind them and the Ravenblade powered up for its next journey, Crystal couldn't shake the image of the strange coin—or the weight of what it represented. For the first time, she realized just how far Asus was willing to go, not just to complete their mission, but to survive in a galaxy where even his own kind might be his enemy.