CHAPTER 25

GVIF Rheeavher

Ceryorka System, Cavaglatar Sector

Date: Zeran 23, Year 4731

Major Legate Caul Malocktus sat at the helm of the Breacher, a compact and agile craft built for a singular purpose: infiltration at critical points with small attack squads.

Two wings of Predator-class fighters escorted the Breacher, providing cover.

The hull shuddered as Caul steered sharply through the narrow, shifting passages of the asteroid field. Among them, shattered hulls from destroyed ships and debris from defense platforms drifted aimlessly.

The battle, if it could even be called that, had ended swiftly. The pirate force lay in ruins, their fighters and defenses obliterated.

Caul found it almost amusing that anyone might mistake the pirates' annihilation for justice, though many would consider it just that.

He maneuvered the Breacher beneath an asteroid, gliding under its uneven surface. Ahead, the pirate base emerged—a solid structure carved into the largest asteroid within the field. Its thrusters sputtered, barely holding the facility in position.

Once a thriving mining outpost extracting minerals from the surrounding field, it had long since ceased serving that function. Over the years, the abandoned facility had been repurposed by a group of pirates, serving as a staging ground for raids and attacks across the Ceryorka System.

Gas plumes escaped from cracks on the asteroid’s surface. Dormant drone bays sat idle, and claw-like arms protruded out, seized up from years of disuse.

The Predator-class fighters spread out and opened fire, unleashing dark blue lances of energy at the base. Each blast struck the facility’s shields, sending crackling violet arcs surging across the barrier. With every impact, the shield wavered.

Inside, the remaining pirate forces were cut off and surrounded. Their leader rallied the last of his crew, preparing for a desperate final stand.

Another volley from the fighters rocked the shields, sending waves of distortion across their surface. The energy matrix faltered, and a flash erupted as the shield buckled and collapsed beneath the concentrated firepower.

“Shields are down, Major Legate,” Commodore Gahlenka’s dry, rasping voice came over the uplink transceiver.

“I’m boarding the station, Commodore Gahlenka. Stand by and maintain position,” Caul replied, drawing out Gahlenka’s name.

The Breacher adjusted its angle, veering toward a section of the base protruding from the asteroid. Caul cut the engines and used the thrusters to align the vessel with the structure before initiating the docking sequence.

Four mechanical arms extended several feet from the ship’s hatch, their magnetized tips locking onto the base’s exterior before drilling into it. Vibrations rippled through the craft’s cabin as the connection secured, anchoring the Breacher firmly in place.

A section of the Breacher extended outward, encasing the area and forming a pressurized, sealed connection between the ship and the base.

Caul rose from the single-occupant cockpit, his dark gray cloak sweeping over his light armor, black and trimmed in silver, as he strode toward the hatch. Behind him, the Bruisers stood, their towering and bulky frames dominating the confined rear section of the ship.

These Vorcon subspecies, known as Bruisers, lacked the ability to speak the fully articulated language of their kin. Despite this limitation, they understood the common Vorcon tongue perfectly, though they could not replicate its sounds. Instead, the Bruisers communicated through guttural grunts—sharp, clipped exchanges in a dialect unique to their kind, varying subtly depending on their origins.

Beyond the craft’s hatch, now firmly connected to the base’s hull, the automatic cutting mechanism engaged. A shrill whine filled the cabin as precision lasers carved through the base’s exterior.

Moments later, the whine ceased. The Breacher’s hatch clattered as it retracted into the ship’s deck.

The breach revealed itself—a notched square with molten edges radiating heat. Circuits sparked, and exposed wiring dangled from the opening.

Caul stepped through, his red-centered eyes narrowing as he surveyed the dark interior. Entering a corridor, he was greeted by flickering, intermittent lights throughout.

Activating his Nethros Guard, its barrier field rippled faintly around him.

He pressed on, venturing deeper into the base.

Behind him, the two Bruisers followed, unsheathing their Plasmord Swords. The weapons came to life with a low, throbbing tone as the Bruisers activated their own Nethros Guards.

As they continued, the hallway stretched into shadow, its far end obscured. Crates lined the passage, tangled wires and loose parts strewn across the floor. Broken doors sagged in their frames, with lights fluttering overhead. A half-open elevator shaft gaped, its platform suspended between floors.

Caul advanced unhurried. The Bruisers followed, their heavy footfalls thudding through the corridor. Low, muffled breaths escaped from beneath their helmets, their rifles slung over their broad shoulders.

From his belt, Caul retrieved his navigation node—a small, handheld device designed to scan interior layouts. Crude but effective, it displayed a rough map of the structure. He studied the display, focusing on the paths ahead. External scans performed upon his arrival had confirmed this as the base’s main command operations level, though the installation spanned multiple tiers. The device’s limited resolution offered only a general idea of the layout.

Caul selected his route. His right hand hovered near the hilt of his KelKor blade. His Dissolver Pistol rested holstered on his left hip, while his Katarath Dagger, strapped horizontally across his lower back, remained hidden beneath his cloak.

He proceeded down the corridor, navigating several turns. Locked doors, defunct equipment, and scattered obstacles blocked his path, which the Bruisers cleared.

At the corridor’s end, the path split into two. Caul paused, consulting his navigation node again, recalculating his route.

“Hold this position,” he ordered.

The Bruisers grunted in acknowledgment, stepping into defensive stances.

Caul continued alone.

As he moved further down the corridor, the lights steadied, but the air thickened. Something is near.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly. Panels snapped open in the floor, and turrets swiveled toward him.

A high-pitched Oscillation filled the corridor as the turrets charged, rising steadily in intensity.

Caul activated his Quarthen Brace, projecting a barrier taller than himself and wide enough to shield his entire forward frame with his forearm. Energy blasts struck the barrier in rapid succession, each impact rippling across its surface.

The Quarthen Brace pulsed, its energy reserves draining under the focused assault. Proceeding, Caul drew his KelKor blade and ignited it. An energy field enveloped the blade, crackling with an unsettling frequency that grated on the senses. The Varokh horn pommel pressed firmly into his palm as he adjusted his grip.

The nearest turret adjusted its aim as Caul moved. Pivoting sharply, he dodged the incoming blasts before lunging forward. His KelKor blade descended in a decisive arc, the forward energy barrier shielding him as he struck. The plasma edge sliced cleanly through the turret’s barrel, leaving a faint trail of smoke.

One by one, the turrets collapsed, each strike reducing the mechanisms to smoldering ruins. A stray shot occasionally slipped past the Quarthen Brace, but his Nethros Guard barrier field absorbed the hits, shielding him from harm.

As the final turret fired, Caul’s shield absorbed the barrage. He advanced and, with a single strike, destroyed it.

The final blast drained the Quarthen Brace, leaving it inert as it began its recharge cycle. His full-body Nethros Guard had also absorbed more damage than expected, intercepting stray shots that had bypassed the forward shield. Though it still retained power, Caul powered it down, initiating the automatic recharge process for both systems, opting to fully restore them.

With both barriers inactive, Caul pressed forward.

Continuing down the corridor, he approached a heavy door marred by faint scorch marks. Scanning it with his node, the display identified it as the command center entrance.

Caul pressed the controls to the door, but the mechanism remained unresponsive. He leaned in, inspecting the panel briefly before retrieving his transceiver.

“Shanal zha’kral!” he commanded.

Moments later, the heavy footfalls of the Bruisers echoed down the corridor. They arrived swiftly, awaiting Caul’s next order.

Caul thrust his KelKor blade deep into the control panel. Sparks erupted, deactivating the controls. He pointed the blade’s edge toward three key points along the door’s seam where the locking mechanisms were housed.

“Valan nar!” Caul commanded, directing the Bruisers.

One of the Bruisers deactivated and sheathed his Plasmord Sword before retrieving a pouch from his belt. Pulling out bars of adhesive material, he pounded them firmly into the indicated points along the door’s seam.

With the adhesive in place, Caul ignited each bar with a quick touch of his KelKor blade’s tip. The blade’s energy activated the material, which heated before erupting in controlled bursts seconds later, weakening the locks.

The Bruisers unclipped circular silver pads with handles from their belts. Magnetizing the pads to opposite sides of the door, they gripped the handles firmly and pulled in opposite directions. With a sharp screech of bending steel, the door groaned open, revealing the chamber beyond.

Caul stepped inside.

The command center was a circular space, its walls lined with consoles and connected to adjoining rooms. Patches of asteroid rock made up some sections of the walls.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

A sudden roar erupted as pirates poured into the chamber from all sides, emerging from various rooms with weapons drawn. Caul quickly counted seventeen—a mixed group of alien species, they took positions around the room, their focus locked on him.

Among them were the Elycron, beings with tarnished bronze skin. Ember-like orange eyes burned within hollowed cheeks as they brandished Null Blades—long, narrow, curved weapons designed to disrupt energy fields.

The Lycoris were slender and sinewy, their ashen skin marred by deep, craggy scars. They carried Coil Rifles, the weapons faintly crackling with energy and emitting a low static, ready to discharge.

The Nythari, compact and muscular, had rugged, stone-textured skin. Their armor bore carved insignias from a force they had once served—and later abandoned. Some wielded Sion Shibra Scythes, volatile arcs of energy simmering with heat along the blades’ edges. Others carried Burst Disposer Rifles, mid-range energy weapons designed for precise, controlled bursts.

Drevanth figures advanced with weathered stone skin. They wielded Entropy Cannons, bulky two-handed weapons that were clumsy yet destructive.

The Thalyss, their light yellow skin marked by thick, bioluminescent veins glowing beneath the surface, gripped Breach Axes.

At the front stood their leader, his helmet visor emitting a narrow, bright light. His powered combat suit groaned audibly with each step, giving no indication of who was inside. Its bulk emphasized raw strength over agility. In his hands, he carried an Overcharge revolver—a slow-firing energy weapon that fired in bursts—and a Cleaver, a melee weapon most effective when wielded with the strength the suit provided.

The pirates spread out, their weapons fixed on Caul. Through the helmet of his combat suit, the leader barked orders, his voice crisp yet distorted.

“Surround him!” the leader yelled, his command filling the room.

“Where are the rest of them?” another called out.

They moved to further encircle Caul.

Caul’s primary Nethros Guard barrier field remained in recharge, its energy nearing full restoration. He activated the forearm-mounted Quarthen Brace, which had not fully recharged but would continue to replenish unless it sustained damage, projecting a rectangular energy barrier in front of him, providing vital cover.

In his right hand, Caul held his KelKor Blade, the energy field enveloping the blade and vibrating with a raw, unsettling frequency.

The pirates held their positions, weapons tracking Caul’s every move, though none were ready to engage him yet, waiting for their leader’s command.

The pirate leader stepped forward, his voice amplified. “Vorcon?” Nidrak said, surprised, his head turning to glance at the rest of his crew.

Seeing Caul before him, calm and unflinching, sent a cold wave of dread through Nidrak. His crew exchanged uneasy glances.

The Vorcon Empire had no reason to target their operation. This wasn’t the type of incursion the Empire typically concerned itself with, and as far as Nidrak knew, the Vorcons had remained behind their borders for the last decade. Yet, here one stood. His thoughts raced, running through different scenarios as he clung to a fragile hope for escape.

Caul greeted them with a faint smirk.

“Who the hell are you?” Nidrak demanded.

“Major Legate Caul Malocktus of the Grand Vorcon Imperial Force,” he replied, scrutinizing each member of the group equally, his gaze lingering on each of them for a moment.

“I’m Nidrak. We represent the Ascendants of Wail,” the leader said, his tone edged with defiance.

“It matters not,” Caul replied flatly.

“Did the locals hire you?” Nidrak growled, his voice tight with confusion as he tried to make sense of the Vorcons’ presence.

“Locals?" Caul snickered with a deep rasp. "You fool."

“Figured I’d ask, since you blasted my fighters and defenses to scrap,” Nidrak said, glancing around the room, searching for something—anything—that might shift the odds. He realized that even if the rest of his crew returned from their raids, the Vorcons would destroy them. Still, their arrival might create a distraction, buying him a chance to escape.

He had sent out a distress call to his other ships in the area, but his second-in-command had yet to respond. It was unlike him, though Nidrak wondered what he himself would do if he had received such a message.

“It’s simply a matter of misfortune for you,” Caul said dismissively.

“That’s it?” Nidrak repeated, casting a glance at his crew. None looked eager to fight the lone Vorcon standing before them, fully aware of what lay beyond the base.

Caul nodded slowly, his shield still raised. “Tav’roth,” he said, the words activating his transceiver. “Zharan ve Feyran,” he hissed.

At Caul’s command, the Bruisers took positions on either side of the door, peering into the chamber while using the doorway as cover. Their Disruption Rifles unleashed rapid, suppressive bursts of energy fire, scattering the pirates in all directions.

Some pirates attempted to return fire at the Bruisers, but the relentless barrage forced them to scramble for cover, their shields absorbing the damage and leaving them disorganized. Caul seized the opportunity, launching a direct attack on the group as they attempted to reposition from the initial weapons fire, unaware of what else might lie beyond the door.

Caul’s Nethros Guard barrier field had now fully recharged. Activating it, he layered his defenses, the protective barrier enveloping him fully once more, complementing his forward shield.

One of the Elycron charged at Caul, their Null Blade sparking and crackling with energy as they swung. The Bruisers maintained suppressive fire, keeping the rest of the pirates from fully swarming Caul.

Caul moved quickly. Raising his forearm-mounted shield, he absorbed the Elycron’s blow before sidestepping and bringing his KelKor Blade down in a vicious arc. The weapon sliced through the Elycron, carving deep into its torso and overloading its barrier field in one swing. The being staggered and collapsed.

Spinning, Caul caught the approach of another Elycron from behind and deflected its strike.

The Bruisers exchanged fire with pirates, dividing their focus.

The remaining two Elycron moved to engage Caul, shouting cries for their fallen comrade. Caul met their assault head-on. His KelKor Blade cut through their defenses, each strike fatal. Their barriers failed to withstand the power of Caul’s weapon, each unable to match his skill with a blade.

A Lycoris opened fire, its Coil Rifle unleashing electromagnetic projectiles streaking toward Caul. His forward shield absorbed the impacts, dispersing the kinetic energy across its surface. One of the Bruisers redirected its fire toward the Lycoris, forcing the attacker into cover and easing the pressure on Caul.

Caul pressed the attack, his KelKor Blade cutting through his opponents. He struck down a Lycoris, severing its weapon from its grip and carving a deep gash across its torso.

The remaining Lycoris attempted to retreat. Caul closed the distance, his blade a blur of energy, impaling him from behind.

The Nythari advanced next, their Sion Shibra Scythes crackling with disruptive energy at every swing. Behind them, the Drevanth fired their Entropy Hand Cannons, each slug designed to destabilize materials on impact. The Thalyss followed, their Piercers aimed to phase through Caul’s defenses.

But Caul was ready.

His KelKor Blade intercepted strikes and deflected blows, though the Nythari managed to land a few hits. As the Drevanth raised their Entropy Cannons, Caul angled his shield to absorb the slugs. Shots that missed carved deep gouges into the walls, leaving marks across the structure.

The Bruisers maintained suppressive fire, keeping the pirates off-balance. One by one, they fell to Caul’s strikes.

The final Elycron crumbled beneath his blade. The last Lycoris, stood powerless once Caul closed the distance, his blade cutting through with brutal finality.

The Nythari, Drevanth, and Thalyss fell in turn, Caul’s Blade finding its mark.

Silence descended over the command center as the last pirate collapsed, lifeless bodies scattered across the room.

Caul glanced at the Bruisers, signaling them to leave. They lowered their weapons and began making their way back to the Breacher.

Only the pirate leader and Caul remained.

He stood amidst the carnage, the grinding of his combat suit breaking the quiet as he surveyed the devastation. A low growl rumbled from his throat—a mix of anger and desperation, amplified through his suit’s speakers.

Leveling his Overcharge revolver, the leader fired bursts of energy, each shot followed by a pause as the weapon recharged. The orbs carried immense force, and while the revolver’s slow cycle left gaps, its destructive power compensated.

The energy blasts hammered Caul’s forward shield, fracturing it until it gave way. Undeterred, Caul closed the gap. The leader fired again, but Caul moved, dodging just in time.

Caul slashed with his KelKor Blade, the strike severing the leader’s grip and sending the Overcharge revolver skidding across the floor. Nidrak snarled, his frustration boiling over.

Gripping the Cleaver tightly, Nidrak activated the weapon, its blade surging with energy. Enhanced by his combat suit’s strength, he swung wide, sweeping through the air, the heavy weapon slicing toward Caul and forcing him to step back to evade.

Caul met the strike head-on with his KelKor Blade. Sparks erupted as their weapons locked, energy fields clashing.

Caul angled his KelKor Blade upward, striking the leader’s visor on his helmet. The plasma edge burned brightly on contact, leaving cracks spiderwebbing across the surface. Momentarily stunned, the leader faltered, his vision blurred as his eyes struggled to adjust, the impact momentarily overloading his visual senses.

Caul targeted a vulnerable joint in the armor at the leg. The Blade tore through the plating, striking the joint and limiting the suit’s movement.

Roaring in frustration, the leader swung again, bringing the Cleaver down with force. The blade struck the floor, fracturing it and sending a tremor through the room. Caul narrowly avoided the blow, sidestepping at the last moment. The impact shook the floor, momentarily throwing Caul off balance.

As Caul staggered, the pirate lunged forward, driving his armored fist into Caul’s ribs. The impact sent Caul skidding across the floor, his boots scraped against the surface as he fell, rolling upright to regain his stance.

The pirate leader advanced, the grinding of his combat suit growing louder with each heavy step. The damaged right leg lagged behind, its movements labored. Raising his plated fist, the leader attempted another strike, but his arm slammed into a nearby wall instead, leaving a crater.

Ripping his arm free, the leader turned back toward Caul.

Caul was already moving, targeting the weakened segments of the pirate’s armor, he delivered precise strikes that further compromised the suit’s integrity.

Nidrak swung the Cleaver hard, the force of the motion creating a sharp whistle as it cut through the air. Caul ducked low, slipping beneath the swing and retaliating with a swift upward slash. The KelKor Blade tore through the cracked visor, sending shards flying in all directions, revealing the scarred, soot-black face of a Phon beneath. Narrow eyes, burning with hate, locked onto Caul.

The leader roared, his swings growing wild and desperate. The Cleaver’s blade left scorching trails as it struck walls and consoles, triggering bursts of sparks across the chamber. Caul evaded each attack, the pirate unable to match his speed.

The combat suit groaned with each failed strike, leaving the leader increasingly unbalanced. In a final act of desperation, he raised the Cleaver high and brought it crashing down. The blade struck the floor with a deafening clang, breaking in two in the process. Its energy flickered before extinguishing entirely. Nidrak threw the hilt aside.

Caul staggered as the vibrations from the strike rippled through the floor. The pirate lunged as best he could with his lessened mobility, his armored fist arcing toward Caul’s head. Caul twisted to evade, but the blow clipped his shoulder, sending him reeling as his barrier flared under the strain, forcing him to roll to the side.

In the process, Nidrak stumbled and fell forward, his suit responding sluggishly and causing him to drop to a knee. Struggling to regain control, he noticed his weapon—a short distance away but just out of reach. Desperately, the pirate stretched for the Overcharge revolver, his movements frantic as he tried to grab it unsuccessfully.

Caul dove forward, driving his KelKor Blade into an exposed section of the suit’s back. Sensing it, Nidrak tried to stand. The pirate staggered, managing to rise, but his movements slowed as the plasma edge sank deep. Sparks erupted, and the suit’s systems faltered, rendering him immobile.

Caul moved around to the front of him and raised his KelKor Blade, leveling it at the pirate’s exposed throat. With his suit completely powered down, Nidrak was stuck in place, trapped within its confines.

“Wait! Take everything—my credits, my ship! Just... don’t kill me. Please!” the leader’s voice cracked with desperation. “Let me walk away,” he stammered.

“You have nothing worth taking,” Caul said coldly

For a brief moment, the leader’s gaze wavered, caught between despair and defiance. Then, with a final surge of will, he snarled. “Fuck you, Vorcon,” the leader spat.

Caul didn’t hesitate. He drove the KelKor Blade forward, the plasma edge piercing through the leader’s neck, the energy causing his body to jolt within the suit. The Phon stiffened, his body trembling briefly before falling lifeless within the powered-down armor.

Deactivating his KelKor Blade, Caul stood before the fallen leader for a moment. Without a word, he turned and strode away, leaving behind only silence and ruin.