Rust stood in the dimly lit chamber, arms crossed as Vext studied the holographic display before them. The blue-tinted image of a rotund, well-dressed man flickered above the console. His name hovered beside his image: Darius Kohr, Merchant Lord of Outpost Nine.

“He funds Lord Valdus’s forces,” Vext said, his tone neutral but firm. “Weapons, supplies, information. He smuggles nanotech from the outer colonies and sells it to the Barons at a discount. He’s a problem.”

Rust tilted his head. “And I’m solving that problem?”

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Vext turned to him, his mask hiding any trace of emotion. “Consider it a test. You will go alone. No backup, no reinforcements. Get in, eliminate him, and disappear.”

Rust felt a smirk tug at his lips. “Simple enough.”

Vext’s voice darkened. “Don’t underestimate him. Kohr is protected by mercenaries—ex-Enforcers, deserters, even a few aristocratic brats looking to play warlord. He operates from a fortress disguised as a trading post. If you’re discovered, they’ll send a distress signal to Valdus. And then, we’ll have an entirely different war on our hands.”

Rust absorbed the information, rolling his shoulders. “Stealth or slaughter?”

Vext chuckled. “Whichever leaves the fewest complications. But be sure of one thing—Kohr cannot leave Uranus alive.”

Rust nodded, turning toward the exit. His blood thrummed with anticipation. Another step toward strength. Another test.

Time to see how far he could push himself.