The oppressive hum of the subway train echoed off the metallic walls of the underground tunnel, a rhythmic clanging that reverberated through the bones. Ubel stood near the door, his small frame barely noticeable amidst the throng of passengers. He felt the faint vibrations through his shoes as the train surged forward, the world outside was once again bathing in the blur of neon lights and holographic advertisements flashing past in rapid succession. Ubel’s destination was the Emerald Stellar Cascade, one of the most prestigious and notorious casinos on the station, a place where fortunes were made and lost in the blink of an eye.
The train screeched to a stop, and the doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss. As Ubel stepped out into the station’s bustling corridors, his drones and droids rejoined him, falling into formation like loyal shadows. The diverse bright colored lights reflected off their sleek surfaces, casting eerie patterns on the walls as they moved. The casino was a short walk away. Holo-screens flanked the streets, displaying glamorous figures and ads promising products that would change the lives of the insignificant who walked and lurked in the streets.
As he got closer to the entrance of the casino, he finally noticed another change. The Emerald Stellar Cascade was now a towering structure of polished metal and gleaming glass, its exterior glowing with an ethereal green hue as if the entire building were bathed in bioluminescence. A sharp change from its former six-story building. Holographic displays advertised games of chance, promising fortunes to those daring enough to stake their credits. It was a beacon for the desperate and the dangerous alike.
Ubel approached the grand doors, guarded by a pair of hulking figures clad in sleek, matte-black armor that made them look like droids than actual droids due to the large number of cybernetic modifications in their bodies. Their metallic frames and skin gleamed under the ambient light. The same features that he saw on almost every bodyguard in most establishments that he had previously visited. He started thinking if bodyguard jobs have requirements to have showy cybernetics as he knew that the most expensive and capable cybernetics were those who were less obvious.
“It’s like screaming, ‘I have a knife!’ to your opponent, allowing him or her to prepare for that,” Ubel smirked. One of them stepped forward, a low rumbling voice emanating their mouth which was the only part of their face to be the only sign left, that confirmed that they were humans. Although he had a hard time knowing if Ubel was talking to a male or female guard.
“Wait. State your business," it demanded, its red optics narrowing. The voice was distorted probably by the modification of the vocal modulator.
Ubel looked up, meeting the guard’s gaze with his own piercing golden eyes. Despite his appearance, there was a cold, calculating intelligence behind them. He scanned them, testing their cyber security. Then he was impressed by what he found as they were using stronger defense against breakers or neuromancers like him. Ubel increased his review points about them in his mind.
"What? Isn’t this a place to gamble my profit? I'm here to play," Ubel replied calmly, his voice steady. “Like your other clients here.”
The guard hesitated, probably its brain or processors working overtime as it analyzed the situation.
"This establishment is not for children," the guard stated flatly, due to how Ubel’s youthful appearance was at odds with the gravity in his tone, and it raised suspicions. "You will need to undergo an inspection and verification of your credentials."
Ubel nodded, unfazed. He had anticipated this and was prepared as he knew that age was not the problem but the wealth. No casino would want to let the people they considered to be dogs from slums, enter and use their services.
"Very well. Proceed."
The guard extended a metallic arm, a series of scanners and probes emerging from its forearm. Ubel stood still as the machine began its inspection, scanning every inch of his body and checking his vitals. It then connected wirelessly to the station's network, running a background check on his identity.
"You appear… much younger than you look," the droid observed, its tone tinged with curiosity as it parsed through Ubel's data.
"Appearances can be deceiving," Ubel replied with a faint smile.
The guard continued its examination, accessing deeper layers of Ubel's background history, but found little beyond a well-crafted, albeit simplistic, persona.
"You are cleared for entry," it finally said, retracting its probes. "However, you will be required to leave your combat drones and droids outside the establishment."
Ubel narrowed his eyes slightly. His drones were integral to his operations, but he had no choice but to comply if he wanted to gain entry.
"Standard protection in this part of the station. But if it makes you feel safer, I'll leave them outside." Ubel shrugged nonchalantly.
The guards exchanged a glance before nodding.
"If we hear one word about you causing a scene, you're out. Permanently." the man said, stepping aside.
Ubel nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with hidden amusement.
"Understood," he said, issuing a mental command to his drones. He gestured to his drones and droids, sending them a silent command to remain stationed at the entrance. The machines obeyed, their sleek, dark frames blending into the shadows as if they were part of the station itself, remaining dormant until he returned.
With that, Ubel stepped into the casino, the heavy doors sliding shut behind him with a whisper of air. The interior was a stark contrast to the grimy exterior of the station. The walls were lined with glowing panels of deep emerald green, pulsating softly like the heartbeat of some ancient creature. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, shimmering light over the lavish decor. The floor was a mosaic of polished marble and iridescent tiles, reflecting the neon hues from the various gambling machines and tables scattered throughout the vast space.
The air was thick with the mingled scents of expensive liquor, exotic spices, and the ever-present tang of ozone from the holographic displays. A low, constant murmur of conversation filled the room, punctuated by the occasional cheer of victory or groan of defeat.
Ubel moved through the crowd with practiced ease, his small stature allowing him to slip between groups of gamblers unnoticed. He made his way to the exchange counter, where a tall, elegant woman with smooth cybernetic enhancements greeted him. Ubel thought that her technological attachments were most probably related to customer service.
"Welcome to the Emerald Stellar Cascade," she said with a practiced smile. "How may I assist you?"
"I’d like to exchange some chips," Ubel replied, sliding a cred chip across the counter. "Give me enough chips to make this night interesting.”
The attendant took the chip, scanning it before nodding in approval and inserting it into a sleek terminal. A moment later, she handed him a stack of emerald-colored casino chips.
"Enjoy your time, sir."
Ubel pocketed the chips, his gaze sweeping across the casino floor. This was a place where the elite of the underworld came to relax, spend their ill-gotten gains, and indulge in vices. Ubel wasn’t here for leisure, though. He was hunting.
The casino was vast, with rows upon rows of gaming tables and holographic displays that flickered with various games of chance. His small stature allowed him to move unnoticed, blending into the background as he observed the players. He discreetly scanned the people that his eyes rested upon, infiltrating the personal networks of those around him. His golden eyes sifted through layers of encrypted information to extract details and data on their backgrounds, skills, and criminal records. He wasn’t just looking for skill—loyalty, or at least the potential for loyalty, was equally important. He needed people he could trust, or at the very least, people whose motivations he could understand and manipulate.
His eyes consistently fed him information. He found a disfigured man who sat at one of the tables, his data identifying him as a former mercenary with a penchant for heavy weaponry. A slender woman with sharp eyes was an expert hacker, her digital fingerprints found in several high-profile heists. A duo at another table had extensive experience in smuggling and piracy.
Ubel continued his reconnaissance, weaving through the various gaming tables and slot machines. He passed a card game where a woman with cybernetic arms was dominating her opponents with a calculated, almost robotic precision. Her file showed a history as another top-tier hacker, now freelancing after escaping from a corporate prison. Another potential recruit, he noted.
Ubel could see the potential in them, but their loyalty would be a challenge to secure.
Then a man passed him who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, his attire sharp but functional. Then his eyes identified him as a former bounty hunter, now turned freelance enforcer. His record showed numerous successful captures and had an impressive background of working for some of the most notorious crime lords in the sector.
As the night wore on, Ubel found himself at a high-stakes table. The roulette wheel spun with a familiar whirr, its hypnotic rotation drawing in the eyes of the players seated around the table. The players around him were a mix of hardened mercenaries, ex-bounty hunters, and other outlaws, each more dangerous than the last. The prostitutes clinging to some of the players added a layer of sleaze to the atmosphere, but Ubel paid them little mind. But what caught his attention most was the presence of familiar faces.
Eris and Ursa, two of the fiercest women from his former crew, the Demonic Monkeys, sat side by side, their eyes locked onto the spinning wheel. Eris was a slender figure with long, red hair and still had the same mischievous expression with quiet confidence. Ursa, in contrast, was a woman who reflected the fusion of feminity and muscles with subtle pride. Her short brown hair increased the factor that her sharp gaze gave out, giving Ubel a look with the wariness of a predator.
But it wasn’t just them. Sitting across from them were Bastille and Creed, the vice-captain and captain of the Godright, respectively. Bastille was a tall, lanky man with a perpetually amused expression, his fingers constantly fidgeting with a small knife. Creed, on the other hand, was all business—a stern-faced man whose decisiveness was one of the traits that Ubel praised him for.
As Ubel took his seat at the table, the former crew members looked up, their expressions a mixture of surprise and caution. The room seemed to hold its breath as they silently acknowledged each other. Ubel gave a slight nod, his lips curling into a small smile as he picked up a stack of chips.
Eris was the first to break the silence, her lips twisting into a smirk.
"Well, well, look who decided to join the party. Didn't expect to see you here, commander," she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of genuine curiosity.
“Well, it’s a small station.” Ubel grinned, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He began placing his bets on the table with practiced ease. “It's been a while I think? And I am not your commander anymore, remember?”
The croupier, a woman with dark cybernetic eyes and a voice like velvet, announced the start of the game. The players placed their bets, and the ball was set in motion and the wheel was spun.
“I thought the Demonic Monkeys would have left the station by now,” Ubel asked, casually placing a stack of chips on black. “Did the mechanics I hired, finished what I paid them for?”
Bastille leaned back in his chair, flipping his knife skillfully between his fingers.
“Yeah, you must have spent a lot to make such a massive overhaul on the fleet. Comman-I mean Ubel. Now, we only had a few things to tie up before heading out.” He glanced at Creed, who gave a curt nod in agreement.
“We’re leaving in four weeks,” Creed added, his voice low and gravelly. “Just waiting for everyone to finish their business. Some of us are enjoying the long rest before the next plan for another raid.”
“Four weeks, huh?” Ubel mused, glancing at the wheel as it began to slow.
“Hard to forget a station like this. It’s a pit, but it’s a comfortable one.” Ursa grunted, her eyes flicking to Ubel.
The ball clattered into place, landing on a number that made half the table groan and the other half cheer. Ubel lost and went to bet on another, his mind already moving to the next topic.
“What about you?” Eris asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “What have you been up to since… well, since you stepped down?”
Ubel smiled faintly, his gaze meeting hers.
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“Recruitment,” he said simply. “I’m putting together a new crew.”
Eris raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
“New crew? I thought you were done with all that.”
“The droids aren’t getting what you wanted?” Ursa asked with a bored tone.
“Droids are useful,” Ubel explained, his tone measured, “but they’re costly to maintain and repair. They lack the initiative and creativity that humans bring to the table. I need people who can think on their feet, and adapt to changing situations. You know how it is.”
There was a brief silence as the others processed his words.
"Makes sense. There’s only so much a machine can do, no matter how advanced." Creed nodded slowly.
"Humans have the edge when it comes to unpredictability. Droids can’t improvise like we can." Bastille also grunted in agreement. “At least, not yet anyway.”
“Even if it did, I would still find humans to be more efficient and cheaper compared to droids.” Ubel juggles his chips playfully. “Droids need materials and sometimes rare metals to make and maintain. Humans on the other hand, you can just buy a hundred male and female slave pairs, inject them with aphrodisiacs and stimulants, give them a room, and let them fuck, then nine months later, you’ll get another human. And every year you can pop one out from each pair. So if you calculate the average life of a well-maintained slave, you can maximize this process by buying a peak breeding age of a human male and female at the age 18-20 years old in slave pairs, then have them do what I mentioned. A hundred pairs… then multiply that by their maximum lifespan where their early puberty age is subtracted… let’s use the highest recorded age… so it will be three hundred fifty years old by using drugs and nutrition… with these variables, you can have at least thirty to thirty-five thousand humans… but wait, this seems to be inefficient actually...”
“Uhhhh… Ubel?” Eris frowned and tried to interrupt him but Ubel kept talking.
“Oh yeah! Why don’t we just inject human females with fertilized eggs and have them-”
“I… I don’t think we need to hear that.” One of the players near him interrupted his discussion with a disturbed face. “Please talk about that in a different place, please. You’re spoiling our game here.”
Ubel looked around and noticed that he attracted their attention with his mumbling.
“Ah, sorry. I got immersed there. Hehe…” Ubel scratched his head. Then he realized that his former crew was also looking at him with a disgusted face. “Wait, wait! I was just joking, okay?”
“Yeah right…” Ursa rolled her eyes in disgust, while Bastille and Eris tried to suppress their laughs, and Creed sighed deeply.
“I think I was right that you had a screw loose in your head, commander,” Eris smirked, pointing at her head. “Maybe one day, we will hear how you started a cloning facility in your ship.”
“Well, Blitzkrieg already has such a facility, although the needed materials are extremely expensive and not present in this cluster,” Ubel mumbled. “Why do you think I’m recruiting outlaws with long years of experience in the underworld?”
“Wait, what?” Ursa heard something even more disturbing. But was interrupted by other players at the table, who had been listening in, and started to join in their discussion.
“Recruitment, huh?” said a blonde-haired man to Ubel’s left, leaning forward, his voice a rough rasp. “And what makes you think any of us would be interested in joining you, kid?”
Before Ubel could respond, a few others at the table chuckled, their eyes scanning his youthful appearance with disbelief. A woman with heavy makeup and a sneer on her lips leaned over, her voice dripping with mockery.
“You think you’ve got what it takes? Kid, go home. You’re probably just a son of a mafia in this station and got spoiled by your grandpa thinking you’re invincible… but you’ll get more than what you can chew kid. Space is a brutal place, outside the confines of this station.”
“Must be the son of some rich gang or corpo, slumming it down here.” Another man grumbled
Ubel’s eyes flashed with interest. He preferred this start of advertising his recruitment than talking to them one by one. But before he could retort to start some trouble to spice things up, a voice rang out in a bored but subtly cold and cutting.
“Mock him all you want,” she said, her gaze sweeping over the other players with amusement. “But this ‘kid’ could probably take all of you out without him lifting a finger. So, I don’t think it’s wise for you to get his attention and provoke him. Many already got burnt after underestimating this kid.”
Other players who heard her, started to use their visual implants to scan Ubel and realize his real identity and background. Now they eyed him warily.
“Don’t spoil the fun, Eris. What the hell.” Ubel smiled slightly, appreciating the little bit of validation. But Ubel was used to being underestimated—he had built his past reputation on it and in fact, he enjoyed the process of pulling the rug under their feet.
"Are you a sadist?" Ursa asked, after sensing Ubel's amusement and half of his thoughts.
The tension eased slightly as the croupier announced the next round. Ubel placed his bet, this time on red, his eyes shifting to the others at the table. He spotted a man to his right, dressed in a black leather jacket adorned with various insignias, some recognizable as marks of different mercenary outfits. His eyes were sharp, scanning the room constantly, never resting for long on any one thing.
Eris leaned closer to Ubel, her voice low enough for only him to hear.
"You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Starting over, I mean."
Ubel glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
"I have to be. I am not a retard to become so overconfident about taking the space alone. I need a crew I can trust—or at least one I can control." Ubel played with the chips with his fingers. “Thanks to your little attempt in mutiny, I learned the hard way that I need to be careful in choosing my crew.”
"You can’t control everything," Eris whispered back. “Especially if you’re trying to control several or more humans. Isn’t that the reason why you preferred them over using droids?”
"I know. It’s one of the negative things in using human crew but I can bypass that by, of course, breaking their will." Ubel said quietly with a wide grin, his gaze returning to the roulette wheel as it finally came to a stop. "No matter how much technology has advanced, human nature still has not changed. After all, it is this very nature that remained consistent since we evolved from monkeys to man. The very reason why we, as a species lived this for so long.”
Eris and Ursa remembered the current emotional state of Elpano, and both already had an idea that Ubel had completely broken him. And Ubel intended to do just that—in his future crew.
“So all I need is enough numbers that I can control. And… I still could use some other ways aside from breaking them." He glanced at Ursa who was also listening in. Hearing him say this, made them feel a slight chill.
The roulette wheel spun with a smooth, mechanical rhythm, the sound of the ball clattering against the numbers blending with the low hum of conversation around the table. Ubel watched the wheel with growing disinterest, the thrill of chance wearing thin. He suddenly felt bored. The game had lost its luster, and now, his mind craved a more stimulating endeavor.
As he leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharpened, focusing intently on the dealer’s movements. Every flick of the wrist, every subtle weight shift, the angle at which the ball was released—each minute detail became a piece of data that Ubel’s mind rapidly processed. His brain allowed him to run complex calculations at a speed that no ordinary human could match.
The ball spun, faster at first, then slowed as it began to lose momentum. Ubel’s eyes followed it, his mind already predicting the likely outcomes based on the dealer’s pattern. His mind worked like a finely tuned machine. He began to calculate the odds with each spin, his mind working at an inhuman speed. He analyzed the distribution of the ball’s movements, the slight imperfections in the wheel, and the patterns of the dealer’s spins. The game that once seemed chaotic now appeared as a series of predictable outcomes. Then he finally got the dealer’s rhythm.
The next round started and he placed his chips on a few targets. This change in Ubel had not gone unnoticed by the keen eyes of his former crew, who had been watching him closely since the start of the game. But as soon as the ball clattered to a stop, and as the dealer called out the winning number, a small smile tugged at Ubel’s lips.
A win.
The other players around the table exchanged glances, a mixture of surprise and irritation flashing in their eyes. They were seasoned gamblers, veterans of the table who knew when someone was on a lucky streak.
As the next round began, Ubel placed his next bet, a small smirk on his lips. The ball landed exactly where he expected, and he collected his winnings without a hint of surprise. With each spin, Ubel refined his calculations, his confidence growing as the ball once again landed in his favor.
Another win.
And another.
One by one, the players at the table began to take notice. The quiet, unassuming figure that they had initially dismissed as just another strange and eccentric player was suddenly the center of attention. Ubel’s former crewmates, Eris, Ursa, Bastille, and Creed, watched him with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
“Looks like someone got bored,” Bastille remarked with a smirk, flipping his knife idly between his fingers. He leaned back, watching Ubel with a knowing glint in his eye.
Eris, sitting beside him, also noticed the change in Ubel’s demeanor. She had seen this side of Ubel before—the cold, calculating side that had made her feel he was more than just what he was showing in his appearance.
“You’re using your neuromancy again, aren’t you?” she asked in a whisper, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Nope, just simple mathematics,” Ubel replied casually, as he placed his next bet, his eyes fixed on the wheel.
Ursa, however, wasn’t as amused. She scowled, her muscular arms crossed over her chest as she watched Ubel rake in another win.
Some of the players in the table began to shift uncomfortably, their expressions growing more tense as Ubel’s winning streak continued. One after another, his predictions hit their mark, the ball landing on the exact numbers he had calculated. The chips piled up in front of him, a tangible testament to his mastery over the game.
Bastille chuckled, flipping his knife between his fingers.
“Well, it’s not like he’s cheating. Just… predicting the odds.”
Creed, ever the stoic, simply nodded in agreement.
With each successful bet, the tension in the room grew thicker. The croupier, a man with a cybernetic eye that gleamed under the casino lights, seemed unfazed, but Ubel could tell he was starting to feel the pressure. The house wasn’t used to losing this consistently.
“Again,” Ubel said calmly, placing a sizable bet on a specific section of the wheel. He had already calculated the probability of the ball landing within that range based on the previous spins. The croupier hesitated for a fraction of a second before spinning the wheel once more. The ball danced around the wheel, teasing the players with its erratic movements before settling into the exact slot Ubel had predicted.
The table erupted in gasps and murmurs. The other players, who had once scoffed at Ubel’s childlike appearance, now watched him with a mix of awe and suspicion. His former crewmates exchanged glances, knowing that Ubel’s mind was running at full capacity, turning a game of chance into a controlled environment where he dictated the outcome.
“You’re going to empty the casino at this rate,” Bastille remarked, leaning back in his chair with a grin.
Ubel shrugged nonchalantly, collecting his chips for another bet. He had already mapped out the possibilities in his mind, predicting the results with uncanny accuracy.
After dozens of successful bets, his former crewmates decided they had seen enough. Eris pushed her chair back, standing up with a sigh.
“I’m calling it quits. No point in playing when Ubel turned it into his personal playground.”
Bastille also sighed and threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Yeah, that’s enough for me,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table. “I know when I’m going to lose.”
“I’m done also. Let him have his fun. We’ll wait until he gets bored or someone from the casino kicks him out.” Creed nodded in agreement.
“Can’t say I didn’t enjoy the magic show, though.” Eris grinned, finishing the last of her drink before setting the glass down.
“They’re probably already on their way. No way they’re letting you keep winning like this.” Ursa said gruffly, glaring at Ubel.
Almost as if on cue, three men in sharp black suits approached the table. They reflect a quiet authority, presence instantly drawing the attention of the remaining players. Their movements were smooth, their expressions neutral, but Ubel could see the subtle tension in their posture. These weren’t ordinary casino employees—they were enforcers, sent to deal with situations just like this. The leader of the trio, a tall man with silver hair slicked back and a cold, calculating gaze, stepped forward and handed Ubel a sleek black card.
“Mr. Ubel,” the man said smoothly, his voice low and professional. “The management has noticed your… exceptional performance at the table. They would like to extend a courtesy.”
“A courtesy?” Ubel raised an eyebrow, glancing at the card, playing ignorant.
“Sir, the management of the Emerald Stellar Cascade would like to extend their compliments,” he said in a smooth, practiced tone. “We respectfully ask that you refrain from further play at the tables tonight. In exchange, we are offering you complimentary access to our exclusive lounge, eatery, and relaxation areas. All of your expenses will be covered.”
It was a polite way of saying that his continued success was disruptive, but Ubel wasn’t particularly interested in pushing his luck further. The challenge had served its purpose, and now it was time to move on. He was already starting to get bored of winning every time.
“Very generous of you. I’ll indulge myself then.” Ubel smiled faintly, pocketing the card.
The man nodded, his expression remaining neutral.
“Thank you for your understanding, sir. Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
With that, the three men turned and walked away, their presence as sudden as it was fleeting. Ubel stood up from the table, stretching slightly as he pocketed his remaining chips. The players around the table let out a collective sigh of relief, happy to see the end of his relentless winning streak.
Before leaving, Ubel turned to the waitress who was serving drinks at the table.
“Four bottles of your best wine,” Ubel said, his tone calm but commanding. “Send them to those four over there.” He nodded toward his former crewmates, who had moved to a corner of the table.
The waitress nodded quickly. “Right away, sir.”
As Ubel walked away from the table, he could hear the murmurs of the other players behind him. Some were still in disbelief, others muttered about his skill, and a few were simply relieved that the “kid” was finally gone.
Ubel didn’t look back as he left the table, with the black card in hand. The game had been entertaining, but now it was time to move on to other matters. He had the information he needed, and soon, he would have the crew to match. As he made his way to the lounge, Ubel’s mind was already planning his next move.
Eris, Bastille, Creed, and Ursa, returned to the table again for another game when the waiter arrived with the bottles of wine. Eris raised an eyebrow as the bottles were placed in front of them.
“Compliments of the gentleman who was just left.”
“From Ubel?” Bastille asked.
The waiter nodded. Bastille grinned, grabbing one of the bottles and inspecting the label.
“Well, he always had a flair for the dramatic. Not a bad choice, though.”
Creed simply nodded in appreciation, pouring himself a glass. Eris smiled as she raised her glass. They all clinked their glasses together, except for Ursa, who rolled her eyes and scoffed.
“Show-off,” she muttered again, though there was no real malice in her tone. She grabbed one of the bottles and poured herself a drink, grumbling under her breath as she took a sip.
Ubel however on his way out of the establishment, was already busy in marking the people that he had found in the casino. He was already listing them in one organized profile with their contacts and history. Another successful day was about to end.