Chapter 553: Equivalent Exchange

Xavier headed down the dim corridor, but he only made it ten paces before Reva's hand clamped onto his shoulder and spun him around.

The standoff had left her fangs elongated. Her eyes flashed in the low light of the hallway.

"Are you actually going to go through with this? You just agreed to lock yourself in a room with a galactic ruler who wants to mount your head on a spike." She asked with a judging glare in her eyes.

Xavier shoved her hand off his jacket. "I agreed to a biological data transfer. It multiplies my base strength threefold. She holds eight pieces of the Goddess, and I need that data to process my own shards without burning out my vessel." He leveled a hard look at both of them. "I just neutralized a First Pillar dreadnought and secured a massive power spike without firing a single shot. It is simple math."

The temperature in the narrow hallway climbed. Lyra crossed her arms, a deep scowl settling over her features as her demonic heat flared.

"She called us dirty scavengers. I don't like her."

"You don't have to like her. You just have to tolerate her for two weeks while I extract what we need." Xavier turned away, heading for the exit. "Let's go. We have a ship to prep."

He pushed through the bulkhead doors leading into the main cargo hold. The boarding ramp remained lowered to the Jupiter orbital station, and thick fueling lines snaked across the deck, pumping raw plasma into the Strider's upgraded hyper-drives.

Rin sat on a weapon crate checking the edge of his twin swords. Klatos occupied a nearby bench, favoring his bruised ribs. Iria, Viola, and Requiem were busy locking down the loose cargo crates for deep space travel.

Near the open airlock stood Kylus. He stared out at the distant, floating debris of his ruined dreadnought, his expression hollow and defeated.

Xavier clapped his hands once. The sharp sound drew the attention of the scattered crew.

"Listen up. The station engineers are finishing the fuel transfer now. We break orbit the second those lines detach. Get your gear secured."

He closed the distance to Kylus, stopping a few feet away from the grieving man.

"We have a logistical problem. Your multi-billion-credit ship is currently floating in a million pieces out there. You don't have a ride, and my ship is built for the exact number of people currently standing in this room."

Kylus dragged his gaze away from the viewport. The empty look gave way to deep confusion. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying I do not have the space, the rations, or the patience to haul your mercenary entourage across the galaxy. You are coming with us alone. Your crew stays here on Jupiter."

Panic washed over Kylus's features. He stepped forward, gesturing wildly toward the station. "You cannot be serious! I am the strongest mercenary of Jupiter! I require my chefs, my personal guards, my attendants! I cannot travel the stars like a common vagabond!"

Xavier pointed a finger at Kylus's jacket.

"You have a digitized credit chit in your pocket worth a small moon. Give that fortune to your head attendant. Tell them to buy or build a brand new dreadnought. They can catch up with us in a few months." He stepped into the man's personal space, leaving zero room for negotiation. "But right now, on this ship, you ride solo or you stay behind. Make your choice."

Kylus stared at the glowing credit chit in his hand, his thumb hovering nervously over the metallic edge. He pointed toward his stranded crew waiting on the dock.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to commission a dreadnought of my standard?" Kylus argued, his voice cracking. "I cannot sleep on a standard cot. I have highly specific dietary requirements. If I board this ship without my personal staff, who is going to cook for me?"

Xavier closed the remaining distance, stepping right into Kylus's personal space. "Lyra is currently eating synthetic meat wrapped in a flatbread. You will eat what we eat, and you will sleep where there is an open bed. Hand the chit over, or get off my ramp."

Kylus's shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of him under the crushing weight of reality. He let out a long, defeated breath and signaled his head attendant—a nervous man hovering near the cargo crates. Kylus shoved the digitized fortune into the attendant's chest.

"Take the crew," Kylus ordered, his voice flat. "Find the best engineers in the core systems. Build another ship and find me."

The attendant nodded frantically and hurried away with the rest of the staff, leaving Kylus to drag his feet onto the Strider.

Further down the docking ring, a much colder farewell played out.

Empress Xalvoria stood at the edge of the Strider's secondary airlock, her crimson mantle catching the harsh station lights. The towering obsidian knight stood on the boarding ramp of a local transport shuttle, her heavy gauntlets gripped tight around her sheathed broadsword.

"Your Majesty," the knight began, her voice a low, mechanical scrape through her helmet. "Leaving you unguarded on a vessel of scavengers violates every protocol of the First Pillar."

"The protocol has changed," Xalvoria interrupted. Her posture remained rigid, her chin tilted high. She refused to let even a fraction of vulnerability show. "Return to the Sun's Moon. Keep the throne secure until I conclude this business."

The knight hesitated, her helmet shifting toward the main corridor of the dreadnought where Xavier's crew was gathering. "If he damages you—"

"He will not," Xalvoria stated flatly, cutting her vanguard off. "Go."

The knight gave a stiff, heavy bow and backed into the shuttle. Minutes later, the small transport sped toward the colossal dragon dreadnought waiting in the deep void.

From the bridge, Xavier watched the massive mechanical beast fire its thrusters. Violet energy flared from its wings, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. The First Pillar warship vanished into the rift, leaving the Empress isolated in hostile territory.

Outside the viewport, the thick fueling lines detached from the Strider's hull with a heavy clank. The orbital clamps released.

"Fuel is green. Clamps are clear," Rin called out from the pilot's chair, his hands flying across the console.

Xavier dropped into the captain's seat, settling into the leather. "Get us out of here, Requiem. Set the jump coordinates for the Tartarus Sector."

The dreadnought's engines roared to life, pushing them away from the Jupiter station and into the dark expanse. The fourteen-day countdown had officially begun.