Dexton

The dim lighting of Blackwatch’s ancient halls cast deep shadows along the jagged, mismatched metal walls, reflecting both the station’s history and Dexton’s crew’s crude but functional retrofits.

The station’s status mirrored Dexton’s hold over the planet that spun down below —undeniable, but precarious, hanging on the edge of an uneasy balance.

Dexton had chosen one of Blackwatch’s central chambers, while he loved to have the vastness of space as his background while he spoke, this one speech had to be delivered in a less grandiose setting.

His cybernetic eye glowed a deep red as he scanned the pirate leaders gathering around the massive round table, catching the small glances between them. They knew.

Of course, they knew, these were not mere puppies or wannabe; they were powerful dogs in their own right.

Rumors of that battle were hard to conceal. There were already probably a dozen horror histories about the battle or horrors lurking in the dark, under City 29.

To maintain control here, Dexton had to constantly remind them of his authority.

But he couldn’t rule through fear alone. Not with this crowd.

He moved deliberately, the sound of his metallic claws tapping against the table punctuated the silence.

They surely heard about the intercepted message from the Galactic Council’s CTP Institute.

Heck, some might even be getting paid by the institute. But that wasn’t Dexton’s immediate concern. Right now, they needed to be reminded who was in control.

To his left, Zariss, leader of the Purple Haze pirates, lounged in her seat, exuding feline lethality. The Versel’s green eyes, slit and watchful, followed his every move, her tail flicking lazily over the edge of the table, claws exposed. She wasn’t intimidated, at least not openly.

She never was, and that made her dangerous.

Across from Zariss sat Rithoxx, the leader of the Crimson Swords, his red scales gleaming under the dim lights.

His tail twitched as venom dripped from his fangs, irritation clear in his golden eyes.

But Dexton knew better than to take the Zekarn’s bravado at face value. Underneath that aggression lay something more primal: fear of losing his place in the pecking order.

At the far end of the table sat Kÿrßàl’rÿth, leader of the Cyber Brigands, his iridescent carapace shifting colors as his whip-like tendrils subtly swayed.

Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s face, or what Dexton assumed was a face, sat between his protruding amber, multifaceted eyes. It was an inverted triangular shape that lacked the features humans relied on to gauge expressions.

Dexton knew the truth: it wasn’t a face at all. Beneath that smooth featurless surface laid a maw, capable of unfolding into four distinct mandibles, each lined with rows of needle-like teeth.

Kÿrßàl’rÿth's species had evolved to chew through tree bark, draining sap or cracking open hardened fruits to drink the liquid within. It was functional for them. Terrifying for him. And though the Sarlaccian rarely bared this natural weapon, the knowledge of its presence unsettled Dexton. Not as much as the fact that he could tell Kÿrßàl’rÿth wasn’t just listening to words in that room.

The Sarlaccian was feeling the tension, measuring the room with a cold pragmatism that Dexton both respected and hated.

Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s whip-like tendrils were in constant, subtle motion, almost imperceptibly shifting to sense the vibrations in the room. Dexton had seen them react before, picking up on heartbeats, the shifting of weight, even the smallest disturbances in the air.

Kÿrßàl’rÿth was a prey, and since it relied on senses to run, nothing would escape his attention. He wouldn't mindlessly run, he was a strategist; he’d calculate whether it was worth crossing Dexton or not.

Dexton smiled coldly. In general, they feared him, or at least respected his control over Blackwatch. That was enough, for now.

He moved around the table slowly, dragging the metallic claws of his left hand across its surface, the sound slicing through the room like a knife. Zariss’s ear twitched. Rithoxx’s posture stiffened. Good. The message was sinking in.

-Gentlemen… and lady- Dexton’s voice was low, controlled. He let his cybernetic eye flare as it passed over each face, basking them in its eerie glow. -We have a problem.-

He looked at them as he paused, to gauge their reactions.

-City 29. Sub-sector six. I lost men.- His tone was sharp, cutting. -Four hundred fifty-one dead. Seventy-seven captured.-

-So what? You’re here to whine, Dexton?-

Rithoxx hissed, his forked tongue flickering with frustration, but Dexton raised a hand, silencing him with a glance.

-I’m not here to whine about the loss.- His voice turned ominous as his gaze flicked to Zariss. -But it wasn’t the usual scuffle with the old dog.-

Zariss let out a soft purr, leaning back in her chair, amusement glinting in her eyes.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

-Oh? But again, so what?- she drawled, her voice silky.

-The lower levels are for rejects, Dexton. Slaves ready to be processed into protein bars. Not all of us have… investments there. Yet you say WE have a problem?-

She emphasized the ‘we’, her tone dripping with mockery.

Dexton smirked, his metallic hand shifting slowly into its weaponized form, watching Zariss’s eyes track the movement. Her nonchalance was a game, but even she couldn’t ignore the threat.

-Yeah. All of you have a big, fucking problem.-

He activated the holographic display, casting an eerie blue light over the room showing the grotesque hybrid beings that had wiped out his forces in City 29.

At the same time, the intercepted message from the Galactic Council’s CTP Institute played:

"Initial data is good. Scans are promising. Alright, people, we might have found it! The first one to bring me samples will get double pay this month!"

Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s tendrils quivered slightly, and Zariss’s eyes narrowed in thought. Across the room, Rithoxx growled, tail thrashing.

-CTP scum?- Rithoxx spat, the metal on the ground fizzling at contact with his venom.

-What are they after? What are they here for other than to give us all they have? Do you believe the horrors from below belong to them?-

Dexton moved closer to him, his red eye glowing brighter as he loomed over the massive reptilian leader.

-Easy, Rithoxx. You were sharp enough to get the right question. What are they after? Or better yet...-

He leaned in, his breath heavy pushing the scent of oil and metal in the room. -Which one of you is getting paid by them?-

Rithoxx recoiled slightly, eyes darting nervously between the others at the table. Zariss’s tail flicked behind her, her claws now fully extended. Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s tendrils swayed more intensely, the vibrations of the room catching his attention.

-I know someone here made a deal with the Institute.- Dexton’s voice was a dangerous snarl as his metal fist slammed into the table. -I’m still in control of this station. That means I own every last one of you. Your crews. Your bases of operations. All of it belongs to me.-

Zariss’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she stayed silent for a beat before speaking.

-You’re saying one of us, other than you, is working with the Council? Bold accusation, Dexton. Where’s your proof?- Her voice was smooth, a challenge in its tone.

Dexton grinned slowly, predatory. -Do you want more proof?- He gestured dismissively at the picture of the abomination. - Go ahead, by all means. Tell me who else has the tech to pull that off. Just don’t say humans. We have some standards.-

Dexton let the silence in the room fall for some minutes.

-Look, I don’t care who made the deal. Whoever it is... they won’t survive it. I doubt the Council plans to leave any of us standing when they’re done. We'll all become the perfect sales pitch. Look at our new weapon, and how swiftly it took 'em pirates apart. How much ya offer to weild it?-

He let that sink in, his voice calm but dripping with venom.

-What offends me is that you thought you could bypass me. You thought it wise to bring the Council’s magnifying glass here. To my planet.-

Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s mandibles clicked, the sound sharp. -I have a better proposition. Why don’t you speak to us of your dealings with the Council, Dexton?-

Dexton turned to the Sarlaccian, feigning surprise.

-My dealings? AGAIN?-

He placed a hand over his heart in mock sincerity while faking an offended look.

-I’ve dealt with the Council when they needed someone returned… discreetly. I brought my precious Ahuizotl to face them. Never have I brought them here.-

His voice grew sharp again, accusatory. -' sides, you all know exactly why I’m dealing with the Council. Because I AM HUMAN.-

The room went still.

He felt the tension, a creeping sensation across his skin.

The pirate leaders weren’t just facing another pirate —they were facing a human who was willing to go as far as they could. Worse, a human that was crazy enough to challenge his species and the CTP even as he knew what he was up against facing the Galactic Council and his species' military might.

Dexton’s claws tapped against the table, the sound unnerving. -Whoever brought the Council here should beg for death.

I should drag their corpse through every level of this station, turn it into protein bars and feed it to the lowest scum in City 29.-His eyes flicked to a trembling underling standing against the wall, one of Rithoxx’s subordinates. He had been doing his best to remain invisible, but Dexton’s cybernetic eye was too sharp.

-You. Come here.-

The creature hesitated for a second too long. Dexton’s metallic hand shot out, grabbing it by the throat and dragging it to the table.

He lifted the subordinate effortlessly, the underling’s legs kicking helplessly as it choked.

-Let this be a reminder- Dexton growled, loud enough for everyone to hear. -You are all within my reach.-

With a swift motion, he hurled the creature across the room, its body crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

The room was silent.

Zariss’s eyes flickered, but she said nothing.

-These things are precise. Military precise. The CTP, they are not just passing through for some scans. They’re testing something. And the way I see it, the Institute plans to sell this to the highest bidder.-

Zariss leaned forward, her voice more seductive now. -What do you propose, Dexton?-

He smiled. -We deal with them… Together. Before they deal with us one by one.-

Rithoxx hissed. -I don’t need a human to show me how to handle this.-

Dexton sneered. -This isn’t a cargo vessel raid, Rithoxx. Do you think you can take on the Council’s Omni Sec?-

Rithoxx hissed but didn’t reply. Dexton continued.

-We either cooperate… or you sacrifice your men for nothing. By all means, sacrifice your men, and weaken yourself pointlessly. I’ll spectate. I’m pretty sure nobody will shiv you in the back. And that nobody will be here, wagging his or her tail begging me to help her or him.-

Kÿrßàl’rÿth’s tendrils twitched. -I believe Dexton has a point. I will support him, along with my crew.-

Zariss bared her teeth in a mock smile. -You’ll have the Purple Haze.-

Rithoxx growled, glaring at Dexton. -Fine. But make me lead the hunt. I won't have it any other way.-

Dexton’s smile widened.

-Lead the hunt, Rithoxx? Oh, I wouldn’t dare stand in your way.- Dexton made sure his tone was mocking.

- Just one thing: you’ll be hunting on my terms.- He said dropping the tone to a chilling point, making sure with his presence alone there wouldn't be any rebuttal.

He was in control—for now. And when the time came, he’d remove the splinters from his throne, one by one.