"Seventy-two hours," Vance growled, his golden-iron fists clenching so hard the floor of the Stellar-Vulture groaned. "We can't make it to Earth in seventy-two hours, Sarge. Not in this scrap-heap."
"We aren't going to Earth," Kane said, his eyes fixed on a cluster of jagged, red-moving dots on the holographic map. "At least, not yet."
"Then where?" Doc asked, her emerald aura flickering with anxiety. "The Planet-Cracker is a Tier-9 fortress, Kane. It's got a crew of ten thousand and enough firepower to turn a continent into glass."
"The Scrapyard Moons," Kane pointed to a dark sector of the map where the signal was chaotic. "That's where the 'Free-Fish' hide. The pirates, the deserters, the ones the Consortium couldn't break. They've got the fast ships. They've got the 'Black-Matter' drives."
"They'll kill us before we even dock," Sully warned, her Star-Seeker vision twitching. "The Scavenger King doesn't take guests."
"He'll take me," Kane hissed. "Because I'm bringing him a feast."
The Scrapyard Moons
The Stellar-Vulture limped into a graveyard of dead stars and rusted hulls. Thousands of broken ships were lashed together with massive cables, forming a floating city of junk. As they approached, dozens of red targeting lasers painted the ship's cockpit.
"Identify or dissolve," a voice crackled over the comms—rough, gravelly, and sounding like it had been filtered through a gas mask.
Kane stepped up to the mic. He didn't use a formal greeting. He used the Void-Hunger. He let his aura leak into the transmission, a cold, suffocating pressure that made the comms-line hum with static.
"I'm the guy who just ate your Relay Station," Kane said. "And I'm looking for a crew that isn't afraid to bite the hand that feeds them."
The lasers didn't turn off, but a massive hangar bay made from the ribcage of a dead space-beast slowly groaned open.
The King of Scraps
The interior of the Scrapyard was a den of thieves—aliens with too many eyes, cyborgs with rusted limbs, and humans who had been "Shifted" centuries ago. In the center sat the Scavenger King, a mountain of meat and cybernetics strapped into a throne made of melted railguns.
[TARGET: THE SCAVENGER KING (KORGOS)]
[RANK: 7 - PEAK STAGE (TITAN-TIER)]
"You've got balls, Little Fish," Korgos rumbled, his mechanical eye zooming in on Kane's Void-Lord Regalia. "The Consortium is screaming about a 'Glitch' in the sector. They've put a price on your head that could buy me a new moon."
"Then come take it," Kane said, stepping forward. He didn't draw his axes. He just stood there, his shadow pooling at his feet like a living oil slick. "But before you do, ask yourself: Why is the Consortium sending a Planet-Cracker to a Tier-7 backwater like Earth?"
Korgos paused, his massive metal hand hovering over a "Delete" button on his throne. "Because they're scared. They don't want the 'Feeder' gene spreading."
"Exactly," Kane leaned in, his silver eyes flashing. "They're scared of us. I have the maps. I have the blueprints for their Stellar-Gates. And I'm going to the Mercy of Silence to tear its heart out."
Kane looked around at the hundreds of pirates watching from the shadows.
"I don't have gold. I don't have credits. But I'm going to Earth to kill a God-Machine," Kane roared, his voice echoing through the massive hangar. "And whoever follows me gets to keep the scrap. Tier-9 tech. Tier-9 mana-cores. A literal mountain of God-tier loot."
The hangar went silent. Then, a low, rhythmic thumping started. The pirates were banging their weapons against the metal floor.
"You're crazy, Ranger," Korgos laughed, a sound like a landslide. He stood up, towering eight feet tall, and grabbed a massive, vibrating chain-sword. "But I haven't tasted Tier-9 engine-grease in a century. My fleet is yours."
[SQUAD ABILITY EVOLVED: THE GALAXY-FEEDER LEGION]