Chapter 568: Planning the Next Destination

The Strider drifted through the void safely beyond the gravitational pull of the new black hole.

Xalvoria walked onto the bridge and approached the main navigation console. Her crimson eyes glowed with fully restored matriarchal authority. The transaction with Xavier had completely stabilized her core, and she moved with the terrifying grace of a true Pillar.

She pushed Viola aside and placed her hands directly over the holographic interface. A brilliant array of golden and crimson data streams instantly overrode the ship’s standard blue display.

“Your primitive scanners missed the actual exit vector,” Xalvoria stated. She tapped a newly highlighted coordinate point on the star map. “The Vanguard Fleet utilized an Abyssal Gate. I tracked the residual dark matter. They are traversing a hidden corridor entirely outside conventional space.”

Kylus stepped away from the window. He gripped the hilt of his thermal cutter. “Set the coordinates. We are going after them right now.”

Xalvoria turned to look at the Aurelian with a completely dismissive expression. “You are going nowhere. This rusted metal box cannot survive the journey.”

Kylus narrowed his silver-haloed eyes. “We just survived a singularity trap.”

“An Abyssal Gate subjects a vessel to multidimensional gravitational shear,” Xalvoria explained, crossing her arms. “The Strider lacks the necessary dimensional shielding and core engine output. Entering that corridor will crush your hull and scatter your atoms across the void in a matter of seconds. You will die before you ever see a demon.”

Viola checked the telemetry data on her pad and nodded in agreement. “She is absolutely right, Captain. Our current armor plating and deflector shields cannot handle that level of cosmic stress.”

Rin leaned against the bulkhead and crossed his arms. “We finally secure a direct lead on the Demonic Society’s main fleet, and we are stuck behind a technological wall.”

A profound frustration settled over the bridge. Kylus stared at the golden coordinates on the map, knowing the murderers of his logistics team were at the end of that trail. They had the map but lacked the vehicle to chase them.

The stars stretched into brilliant lines of light outside the viewport. The Strider surged into the void. Xavier rested his hand on the back of the captain’s chair and watched the hyperspace tunnel swallow the ship.

“We need upgrades before tackling an Abyssal Gate.” Xavier tapped the primary navigation console. “We need military-grade dimensional shielding and an absurd amount of credits to buy them.”

Kylus stepped away from the viewport and folded his arms. He typed a new sequence of coordinates into the holographic star map. A scarred planetary sphere materialized above the projector.

“I know a place.” Kylus pointed at the projection. “We can acquire everything we need on Grey Finger.”

Lyra tilted her head and summoned a tiny demonic flame over her thumb. She watched the projection spin and tossed the fireball back and forth between her hands.

“That sounds like a good place to eat at,” Lyra remarked.

Kylus enlarged the projection to show orbital defense grids and clustered landmasses. “The entire planet operates off the grid. We can purchase anything from experimental hull plating to illegal weapon cores. We load the Strider with the top tier tech in the sector before hitting Vandermis Aventine.”

The blast doors hissed open. Klatos walked onto the bridge. He rolled his shoulders and glanced at the glowing map.

“Grey Finger?” Klatos rubbed the back of his neck. “You want to take us into a pirate haven?”

Xavier turned to the avian mercenary. “You look well rested.”

“The medical bay auto-docs did their job.” Klatos walked over to the tactical console and inspected the projected flight path. “Sector warlords run the orbital rings out there. They confiscate unauthorized vessels the minute the engines cut.”

Requiem stepped forward and rested his massive greatsword on the deck plates. He traced the glowing trade routes spanning the planet’s atmosphere.

“Docking a ship like this on a lawless world attracts immediate trouble,” Requiem stated. “Sector warlords will confiscate the vessel the minute we cut the engines. We need a secure landing zone to keep the locals away from our hull.”

Requiem punched a specific coordinate into the display to override Kylus’s navigation path. A green marker blinked into existence near the southern hemisphere of the projected planet.

“I have an old associate running a private shipyard down there,” Requiem explained. “He owes me a massive favor from my mercenary days. We bypass the planetary scanners and drop directly into his underground hangar.”

Xavier looked at the blinking marker on the map and cracked his knuckles. He pushed himself off the captain’s chair and walked toward the primary navigation terminal.

“Set the course for Grey Finger,” Xavier ordered. “Let’s go spend some of the wealth we recovered and turn this ship into a proper war machine.”

Reva stepped out from the corners of the bridge and checked her weapon magazines. She slid a fresh clip into her rifle and racked the slide with a sharp clack.

“We should stock up on heavy ammunition while we are down there,” Reva said. “Standard rounds are completely useless against the plating of the Demonic Society forces.”

Viola tapped the screen on her datapad to compile a list of necessary components. She linked the requested upgrades directly to the ship’s mainframe for a compatibility check.

“I will figure out the exact specifications for the dimensional shielding,” Viola added. “We need to ensure the new parts synchronize with our current power core without causing an overload.”

Xalvoria observed the crew making their preparations and adjusted her crimson mantle. She walked past the navigation console and stared at the projected image of Grey Finger.

“Make your purchases quickly.” Xalvoria crossed her arms. “I refuse to waste precious time loitering among common criminals and black market scavengers.”

Xavier patted the console and looked right at the Empress. “You will survive a little shopping trip, Xalvoria. Just stay close and try to play nice with the locals.”

Rin pushed off the bulkhead and moved toward the pilot’s seat. He grabbed the flight yoke and engaged the manual override systems.

“Strap in,” Rin announced. “Entering hyperspace in three seconds.”

The blue vortex outside the viewport collapsed into a field of stars—revealing a massive, polluted planet. Plumes of toxic smog drifted across its surface.

Rin guided the Strider through the debris-littered orbital lane. He bypassed the main planetary customs grid and aimed the nose of the dreadnought toward a massive canyon in the southern hemisphere.

“Transmitting the clearance codes now.” Requiem typed a rapid sequence into the comms panel.

A section of the canyon floor parted. Massive blast doors slid away to reveal a cavernous subterranean dock lit by harsh yellow floodlights. Rin fired the reverse thrusters and guided the ship down into the opening.

The Strider settled onto the landing pad with a heavy clank. The magnetic clamps engaged immediately. The blast doors above them sealed shut, plunging the underground hangar into shadows.