TSD: 3049-10-06 — Local: 06:58
Galatea, Galatea System — Galaport City (MRB Liaison Annex / Service Entrance)
Morning on Galatea didn't arrive like hope.
It arrived like administration—gray light, cold air, and the sense that the world expected you to keep moving whether you were ready or not.
The MRB annex's service entrance sat behind the main hiring hall corridor, a dull metal door with a keypad and a camera iris that tracked faces the way a 'Mech tracked heat blooms. Two ComStar attendants in white moved between stations with practiced calm, as if chaos was something that happened to other people.
Kel walked in first, calm and collected, coat zipped, eyes scanning angles and exits. He didn't look like a nineteen-year-old. He looked like someone who had already learned that panic was a luxury.
Hess followed, jaw clenched, dragging a world he didn't want into a place that would record it forever. Two of his security men came behind him with the relay runner cuffed and hooded, the man's bandaged hand held close to his chest like pain was the only honest thing left in him.
Mara walked beside Kel with the hard case hugged to her torso—gloved hands tight, posture straight. Her hair was pinned into a tight coil again, no loose strands, as if she'd decided that even her appearance needed discipline today. She didn't say much. She didn't have to. The case was her voice.
Elin brought up the rear, eyes sharp, medic kit slung, already watching for the kind of trouble that always arrived when people started believing paperwork could protect them.
The ComStar acolyte behind the counter accepted the case without a flicker of emotion, slid it into a shielded tray, and sealed it with a soft hiss.
"Evidence intake recorded," he said. "Your filing will be appended."
Kel nodded once. "Good."
The acolyte looked up. "You request expedited review."
Kel: "Yes."
The acolyte's eyes remained neutral. "Expedited review incurs fees."
Hess snorted under his breath.
Kel didn't react. "Charge it."
Mara's stylus tapped once on her tablet as she logged it.
The relay runner was handed off to MRB security holding—ComStar white and local guards in gray—still alive, still breathing, still valuable.
Kel watched the door close behind the prisoner.
Then he felt it.
Not a sound. Not a warning. Just the way the air in the annex shifted—like everyone's instincts had turned at the same time toward a shadow.
Elin's gaze snapped to the corridor.
Mara's fingers tightened on her tablet.
Hess's men stiffened.
A ComStar attendant stepped out of a side hallway with a sealed cart of forms.
And behind him, down the corridor—two men in Vantrell-style maintenance coveralls moved too smoothly, too synchronized. One carried a tool bag that sagged with weight that wasn't tools.
The man in front raised his eyes and met Kel's.
It was a clean look.
A confirming look.
There you are.
Kel's voice was calm into comms. "Contact."
The first shot didn't come from the men in coveralls.
It came from inside the "forms cart."
A suppressed muzzle flash—small, sharp—followed by the ComStar attendant's body jerking as a round punched through his throat. Blood fountained dark and sudden, spraying the wall in a wet arc. His hands flailed at nothing. He made a noise like a drowning man and collapsed on his side, heels drumming against tile.
The cart tipped. Papers slid out like snow.
Panic hit the annex like a wave.
People screamed. A clerk dropped behind the counter, sobbing. A security guard reached for his weapon too late.
Kel moved before the second shot landed.
He shoved Mara sideways behind a concrete support pillar—firm, controlled, not violent to her, but absolute in intent. She stumbled, caught herself, eyes wide, breath sharp, then snapped into focus the way she always did: data first, survival second, both mandatory.
Elin dropped to her knees beside the dying attendant without hesitation—hands already gloved, already pressing against the wound—but the attendant's blood pumped through her fingers faster than pressure could stop.
His eyes were open and glassy. His mouth moved, trying to breathe through a throat that no longer worked.
Elin's jaw tightened. "No—no—"
The third shot hit MRB security in the chest.
The guard's vest caught part of it, but not enough. He staggered backward, slammed into the wall, and slid down leaving a smear of blood that marked his path like a signature. His weapon fell from his hand and clattered.
Hess's security returned fire, loud and ugly without suppressors. Tile chipped. Fluorescent lights shattered in a shower of glass. A bullet punched through a wall sign and sent plastic fragments spinning.
Kel drew his pistol—decent with firearms, steady hands—and fired two controlled shots toward the men in coveralls.
One round hit shoulder and spun a man sideways. The second punched into the ribs just under the vest line—wet impact, a grunt, then the man collapsed hard.
He didn't die cleanly.
He tried to crawl, dragging himself by his elbows, leaving a thick red trail. His breath came in short, bubbling snaps. His fingers smeared blood across tile like he was trying to write a message with his own body.
Kel didn't finish him.
Not yet.
He needed answers alive.
The second coveralls man dropped the tool bag and yanked out a compact submachine gun—professional, not a raider's toy. He swept it toward the counter.
Kel stepped into the line and fired again—one round into the weapon's fore-end.
The SMG jumped, the man's grip broke, and the weapon skittered across tile. He swore and reached for a knife.
Elin shouted, raw. "Kel—!"
Kel didn't look away from the threat. "Stay down!"
The knife man lunged.
Hess's security man put a round into his thigh.
The impact spun him, shredded muscle, and he hit the floor screaming—high, animal, the kind of sound people make when the body realizes it's been betrayed. Blood pumped in thick pulses between his fingers as he tried to hold the ruined leg together.
He didn't stop moving.
He tried to crawl anyway.
That was what trained men did when their plan failed: they kept trying until their bodies couldn't.
In the middle of it all, Mara's voice came over Kel's private channel, tight but controlled. "Kel—this is an extraction attempt. They're not here to kill us. They're here to get the relay case."
Kel answered without raising his voice. "They won't."
Mara: "They have more."
Kel's eyes flicked down the corridor.
A third attacker stepped out—this one in MRB gray, badge clipped, face neutral. He walked like he belonged.
He raised a pistol and fired once at the shielded evidence tray's lock.
The tray didn't open.
ComStar shielding held.
The attacker fired again—angry now.
Hess bellowed, "Stop him!"
Kel moved with the same calm certainty he used in a cockpit.
He sprinted—not a panicked run, a controlled burst—closing distance while Hess's men laid suppressing fire. Kel slid behind a pillar, came out on the attacker's flank, and fired one round into the attacker's knee.
The joint exploded sideways with a pop and a wet crack. The attacker went down hard, screaming, hands scrabbling on tile.
Kel stepped in, kicked the pistol away, and put his own weapon to the attacker's head.
"Who sent you," Kel said, voice calm as winter.
The attacker spat blood. "You can't—"
Kel pressed the muzzle slightly, not enough to fire, enough to be felt. "Name."
The attacker's eyes were wild. "Coda—"
A shot cracked from downrange.
The attacker's skull snapped sideways as the round punched through his temple.
His blood sprayed Kel's sleeve and the pillar behind him in a hot, sudden sheet.
The attacker collapsed boneless, eyes still open, mouth half-formed around a word that never finished.
Kel froze for half a heartbeat—not in fear, but in calculation.
A sniper.
Inside the annex.
Someone had planned for interrogation.
Kel's voice stayed calm into comms. "Sniper present."
Hess swore. "Where—"
Mara's voice was sharp. "Upper corridor—maintenance catwalk above the hall—thermal bloom."
Kel didn't look up. He didn't need to. He moved.
He dragged the dead attacker's body sideways—using it as a partial shield—not because it was noble, but because in a firefight you used what existed. Blood smeared under boots as he repositioned.
Hess's men threw smoke.
Elin hauled the wounded MRB guard back by the shoulders, leaving a thick smear of blood. The guard's lips were gray. His eyes rolled. He tried to speak and coughed red foam.
Elin's voice broke once, then hardened. "Stay with me. Stay with me."
The guard's hand twitched, then went limp.
Elin slapped his cheek hard. "No—don't you—"
His chest stopped rising.
Elin's eyes went wet, but her hands didn't stop.
She kept pressure. Kept working. Kept trying to reverse a death that didn't care how much she wanted it.
The sniper fired again—round cracking into the pillar above Kel's head, throwing concrete dust into his eyes.
Kel blinked once, cleared it, and aimed toward the catwalk.
He couldn't see the sniper cleanly through smoke and chaos.
So he didn't try to win with hero accuracy.
He won with discipline.
Kel fired measured shots into the catwalk's support area—forcing the sniper to move.
Hess's security took the opening and surged into the service stairwell.
There was shouting. A thud. A scream cut short.
Then silence.
A body tumbled down the stairwell and hit the tile floor in a boneless sprawl, neck bent wrong.
Blood spread beneath the head slowly, calmly, like the building itself was keeping records.
The fight ended the way ugly fights ended—fast once the advantage broke.
The surviving attackers lay bleeding and cuffed, groaning through clenched teeth, shock making their hands shake.
The ComStar attendant was dead.
The MRB guard was dead.
Two attackers were dead.
And the tile floor was slick with blood in places where footsteps had churned it into a thin red film.
Mara stepped out from behind the pillar, breathing hard, face pale but controlled. She looked at the evidence tray—still sealed—and then at Kel, eyes sharp.
"They failed," she whispered.
Kel's voice stayed calm. "Yes."
Elin sat back on her heels beside the dead MRB guard, hands red, shoulders tight. She didn't cry loudly. She just stared at her own gloves like she couldn't believe they were real.
Hess looked around the annex and finally understood what it meant to be in a larger war than contracts.
"Coda did this in an MRB annex," he said, voice hoarse. "On Galatea."
Kel's reply was ice-calm. "Because he's not afraid of your rules."
Mara swallowed. "Then we stop playing only by rules."
Kel looked down at the blood on his sleeve, then up at the sealed tray.
"We still file," he said. "We just don't stay in one place long enough to be boxed."
---
TSD: 3049-10-06 — Local: 10:12
Galatea, Galatea System — Galaport City (MRB Liaison Annex / Secure Brief Room)
The MRB brief room was small, reinforced, and colder than the warehouse had been.
A ComStar representative—older, expression neutral—stood behind a table with a data slate. He did not apologize for the dead. He did not offer comfort. ComStar didn't do comfort.
He offered terms.
"You have submitted evidence indicating a coordinated attempt to manipulate MRB arbitration," he said. "You have also submitted evidence of traffic shaping patterns beyond Galatea."
Mara sat straight, stylus ready, eyes unwavering despite the exhaustion.
Kel stood—calm, collected, dominant in the way that didn't require volume.
Hess remained, because now he had no choice.
The ComStar rep continued. "This annex has suffered a security breach. Your case is now categorized as… sensitive."
Kel: "Meaning?"
"Meaning you will be offered a contract," the rep said, "that removes you from Galatea while allowing you to continue your operations under MRB umbrella."
Mara's eyes narrowed. "You want us relocated."
The rep didn't deny it. "You are a moving asset."
Kel's voice stayed level. "Where."
The rep slid a slate across.
PERIPHERY CORRIDOR SECURITY & RECON — MERCHANT CONSORTIUM
DURATION: 21 DAYS
GROSS: 450,000 C-BILLS
ADVANCE: 30%
SALVAGE: LIMITED (HOSTILE EQUIPMENT ONLY)
BONUS: +75,000 IF "DISCIPLINED UNKNOWN" CONTACT VERIFIED
Hess exhaled through his nose. "Disciplined unknown."
Elin—standing near the door, quieter now—muttered, "Like the bullet work we just saw."
The ComStar rep's face remained neutral. "The corridor has had… irregular incidents."
Kel didn't ask the obvious question. He already knew the answer would be withheld.
Instead he asked the one that mattered. "We get paid cleanly?"
"MRB terms," the rep said. "Fee deducted. Hold applied."
Mara's stylus tapped once—already calculating.
Kel nodded once. "We accept."
The rep's eyes flicked to Kel. "You accept quickly."
Kel's reply was calm. "Staying here gets more people killed."
No one argued.
Outside the brief room, a muted news holo scrolled again—more Periphery chatter. Another convoy burned. Another "unknown disciplined" strike. ComStar: no comment.
Not proof.
But direction.
Kel signed.
Mara logged.
And the they moved away from one dead man's last job and toward the edge of history.
---
Unit Ledger — Iron Inheritance (Running C-Bill Log)
(Maintained by Mara Saito; updated end of TSD 3049-10-06)
Starting balances (from end Chapter 9)
Liquid on hand: 116,000
Restricted/held: 15,000
Expenses (Chapter 10 events)
MRB expedited review fee: −2,000
Additional bay rent (1 day holdover): −2,500
Medical replenishment (post-annex trauma care, meds, wraps): −2,400
Small arms ammo / replacement mags (security + Kel): −800
Vehicle service/repairs (command van damage, glass, cleanup): −1,200
Biohazard cleanup / clothing replacement: −600
Total expenses: −9,500
New Contract Signed — Mission 2 (Periphery Corridor Security & Recon / 21 days)
Advance received (gross 30% = 135,000)
MRB admin fee on advance (3% of 135,000): −4,050
MRB hold applied (restricted escrow): −10,000
Net liquid from advance: +120,950
Current balances
Current liquid on hand: 227,450 C-bills
Restricted/held: 25,000 C-bills (not accessible)