Chapter 15:
The Runner drifted through the dark void of the Rekov Corridor, engines humming soft and low. Greg hadn't said a word since Datork. Edin hadn't needed to. The stars around them bent slightly as they swept past — warped by the faint gravitational ripples of the nebula.
They were retracing their path; Rekov lay among the first worlds of the Fringe Nebula, closest to the Sapien route they'd come from.
The console chimed, light flooding the cockpit. Red warnings flickered across the main screen, half the systems were reading faults, even the thrusters. Alan had barely revived the Runner, and now Greg would have to rebuild it piece by piece if he wanted her flying like new again.
A rough, tearing sound snapped his thoughts.
He turned.
Edin was coughing, a deep, ragged sound that didn't belong in any lungs. Greg froze, unsure whether to ask or ignore it. But before he could speak, Edin straightened, eyes distant, as if nothing had happened.
Greg said nothing. He didn't want to know.
Not yet.
Two hours later, Rekov filled the viewport — a green and orange world streaked with ribbons of blue sea and glimmering rivers. Even from orbit, Greg could see the massive factories glinting under the clouds, their plumes rising like copper scars against the sky.
The Runner dropped out of orbit, cutting through a pale, translucent haze that wrapped the planet like a thin film. Greg knew the system—an automated perimeter field that logged every incoming vessel.
The comms crackled to life.
"Rekov Air Control. Identify yourself."
"Greg Gale. Starhauler. Requesting clearance to touchdown."
Silence followed for a few seconds.
Then: "Transmit two hundred Tapil for clearance permit, and one hundred for parking space."
Greg muttered a curse under his breath. Figures. This was Rekov. He shouldn't have expected anything better. Nearly every medical and research colony in the Fringe was owned by EXNEC. All except this one.
Rekov was privately owned by the Hilkor family. One of the wealthiest, most powerful Aren dynasties in known space. So of course, everything was for profit. Even breathing their air.
Still, once you were in… there was freedom.
The transfer codes appeared on the main screen. Greg hesitated, then sent the payment. His balance dropped to two hundred Tapil.
"Great," he muttered. "Down to pocket change."
Greg guided the Runner through Rekov's upper atmosphere, the ship rattling slightly as heat washed across the hull. The haze broke apart, revealing a sprawling surface below. It was a patchwork of amber plains and silver industrial complexes stretching to the horizon.
Rekov wasn't built for beauty although it still was. It was built for work. Massive refineries, coolant lakes, bio-labs — all connected by mag-rails and sky lanes that glowed faintly in twilight.
The comms pinged again.
"Docking pad C-17 cleared. Follow beacon protocol."
"Copy," Greg replied.
A cone of yellow light flared ahead, guiding him toward a circular platform ringed with dull white lamps. The Runner descended, landing struts extending with a metallic hiss. The ship touched down with a gentle thud, the engines cycling into cool-down mode.
When the systems went quiet, Greg slumped back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Four planets in two days," he muttered. "I should start charging extra for oxygen."
Edin didn't respond. He just sat in the corner of the lounge, still and silent. For a moment, Greg wondered if he even breathed anymore.
The airlock light blinked green.
The air outside was cool and faintly mint-scented, engineered to keep the lungs calm. The docking bay was almost empty, with only few loaders gliding by on grav-rails, their lights flickering through the haze.
Greg adjusted his jacket and stepped down the ramp, Edin following close behind.
Waiting at the edge of the pad stood a man in a sharp gray coat, a sleek slate tucked under one arm. His hair was white—not aged white, but manufactured, each strand catching the hangar light with a faint shimmer. Perks of living in medical tech.
"Greg Gale," the man said smoothly. "Welcome to Rekov. My name is Serhik."
He handed each of them a thin black card.
Greg frowned. "What's this for?"
"Entry cards," Serhik replied with a polite smile. "No one can enter or leave without them."
Greg blinked. "That wasn't a thing last time I came. What's next, Enforcers guarding your airlocks?"
Serhik's smile didn't change. "Security has improved."
Something in his tone made Greg's gut tighten.
Behind him, Edin stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the landing pad. Serhik's gaze flicked to him, and for a split second, the smooth composure broke.
"Quit talking and take us in," Edin said quietly.
Serhik's face lost its warmth. Without another word, he turned and led them toward the massive force field dome that surrounded Rekov's central city.
Serhik led them across the metallic platform, his boots clinking faintly against the steel. The translucent dome that covered Rekov's central city loomed ahead, rising like a giant bubble of glass and light. Through it, the city shimmered — layered with walkways, spires, and pale-green mist swirling between tall structures.
Greg had seen it before, but it still managed to look unreal. The light inside had that artificial twilight hue that EXNEC loved to use, a blend of blue and amber that made the skin look healthy and alive. The irony wasn't lost on him.
They approached the first gate, a towering arch that glowed with faint, blue lines. Serik slid his card into the scanner, and the field rippled open with a low hum. Greg felt a prickling across his arms as he passed through, the static crawling under his skin. Edin didn't even flinch.
On the other side, the temperature changed. The air was cooler, lighter. The scent of mint grew stronger, mixed with the faint metallic tang of machinery. Silent drones hovered overhead, moving in precise lines, scanning and cataloging every living thing that passed.
"This way," Serhik said, leading them into a transport lane. Magnetic rails lined the floor, humming quietly. A sleek shuttle slid up beside them, its side door folding open. Inside, white seats and curved glass panels looked impossibly clean, as if no one had ever used them.
Greg stepped in first, then Edin. The shuttle door sealed with a hiss, and the craft began to move— a smooth, gliding motion through a tunnel of flickering light.
The city opened around them. Towering refineries loomed in the distance, their exhaust stacks breathing pale vapor into the dome. Between them were plazas of greenery, each one so precisely arranged it felt more like a simulation than nature.
Serhik turned slightly in his seat. "You'll have to leave first. Your companion's clearance requires verification."
Greg frowned. "Verification? What for?"
"Standard protocol," Serik said lightly. "Rekov has strict biosecurity laws. And we've never had anyone of his kind."
Greg's gaze shifted to Edin, who was staring out the window, expression unreadable. Something in the silence between them felt heavier than before.
Outside, the shuttle banked, curving toward a wide, glass-like tower that rose higher than any other building in sight. The Hilkor insignia gleamed across its side — a silver serpent coiled around a ring of stars. It seemed like Edin's eyes gleamed on the sight of the insignia.
Greg exhaled slowly.
"So, this is it."
Serhik smiled again, that same polished, professional smile. "Welcome to Rekov Central."
The shuttle slowed, coming to a gentle stop at the tower's base. As the door slid open, Greg saw figures in white uniforms waiting on the platform ahead—medics or something that looked close enough. Their cold eyes followed him and Edin as they stepped out, their stares too deliberate, too clinical. They looked at them like specimens.
Edin turned toward Greg, his voice low.
"Go do what you please. I'll be back at the ship in four hours."
With that, Serhik led him into the building, and Greg was left standing alone.
Four hours.
The realization hit him like a shockwave. He could do whatever he wanted. With no Enforcers in sight and only a few EXNEC eyes watching from the shadows, he knew where he was going next.
Rekov was the perfect place to unload Edin's energy core. His heart beat faster as he felt the pulse of the core against his jacket. It was worth more than anything he'd ever hauled.
Riches, here I come.
He adjusted his jacket, checking for the familiar weight of the core, and made his way toward the lower levels of the tower. He'd find a buyer soon enough—there were always buyers. He just needed to stay one step ahead of the game.