Chapter 2: A Dangerous Bargain
Chapter 2: A Dangerous Bargain
Claudius stood at the entrance to Hangar 17, his breath shallow, his pulse racing. The massive cargo vessels loomed ahead, their dark silhouettes barely visible in the dim light that flickered sporadically from overhead lamps. Around him, workers moved with purpose, shouting to one another as they loaded crates and checked manifests. The low hum of machinery vibrated through the floor, mixing with the hiss of steam from hydraulic lifts. This was it—his one shot to leave Neoterra and reach Phobos, where the entrance exam for the Imperial Military Academy awaited. But it came with a price, a price he had reluctantly agreed to pay.
From the shadows, Tobias Draven emerged, moving with the calm confidence of someone who knew he controlled the situation. Draven was a man of few words, but his reputation spoke volumes. In Neoterra's underworld, he was known for making deals, the kind of deals that could solve your problems—or ruin your life. Claudius had no illusions about the risk he was taking. But with no money and no other way to Phobos, he didn't have a choice.
Draven approached, his dark coat swaying slightly as he walked. He held a small metal box in his hand, no bigger than a data terminal. It was plain, unmarked, and completely ordinary to the untrained eye. But Claudius knew better. Nothing Draven dealt with was ever ordinary.
"You're on time," Draven said, his voice low and measured as he held out the box. "Good. Keep this with you at all times. Don't open it, don't ask questions, and make sure it gets delivered when you reach Phobos. Understood?"
Claudius hesitated for a moment before taking the box. It was lighter than he had expected, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on his mind. "Who am I delivering it to?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.
Draven's eyes narrowed slightly, as if the question had irritated him. "My contact will find you," he said. "You'll know who they are when the time comes. Just make sure you keep the package safe until then."
Claudius nodded, tucking the box into the inner pocket of his jacket. The cool metal rested against his chest, a constant reminder of the dangerous game he was playing. "And once I deliver it?"
Draven's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes darkened. "Once you deliver it, we're done. You go your way, I go mine. But remember, Claudius—if anything happens to that package, if you lose it, or worse, if you open it…" He let the threat hang in the air, unfinished, but clear enough.
Claudius swallowed hard, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "I understand."
"Good," Draven said with a faint smile that never reached his eyes. He gestured to a battered freighter parked at the far end of the hangar. The ship looked old, its hull pockmarked with dents and scratches from years of hard service. "That's your ride. The crew's been paid off. They won't ask questions, and they'll get you to Phobos safely."
Claudius glanced at the freighter, his stomach sinking. The ship looked like it was barely holding together, but it was his only way off the Moon. He didn't have the luxury of being picky. "Alright," he said, his voice steadier now.
Draven nodded and turned to leave, but paused and looked back over his shoulder. "One more thing," he said, his voice colder. "This is a one-time deal. Don't screw it up."
Claudius didn't respond. He simply watched as Draven disappeared back into the shadows, his figure swallowed by the darkness of the hangar. The weight of the box in his jacket felt heavier than before, as if the metal itself had absorbed the gravity of the situation. He took a deep breath and walked toward the freighter, each step feeling like a commitment he wasn't sure he was ready to make.
Inside the freighter, the air was stale and smelled faintly of oil and rust. The lights flickered intermittently, casting long shadows over the cramped, metallic interior. Claudius found a seat in the narrow passenger compartment, which was mostly empty except for a few scattered travelers—cargo workers, drifters, and the occasional spacer. None of them made eye contact, and none seemed interested in conversation, which was just fine with Claudius.
As the ship's engines rumbled to life and it lifted off from the surface of Neoterra, Claudius felt a strange mix of emotions. Part of him was excited—this was the first step toward his dream. He was finally leaving the Moon, finally heading toward Phobos and the Imperial Military Academy, where he could prove himself. But another part of him, the part that carried Draven's box, was filled with dread. The package weighed on his mind as much as it did on his chest, and he couldn't stop wondering what was inside. What had he agreed to deliver? And what would happen if something went wrong?
Hours passed in silence as the freighter sailed through the cold, empty void of space. Claudius tried to distract himself by looking out of the small viewport, watching the stars drift by in their endless patterns. He imagined himself commanding an imperial ship, exploring the farthest reaches of the galaxy, part of something far bigger than the small life he had known in Neoterra.
But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept returning to the package. What if it was dangerous? What if Draven's contact didn't find him? The possibilities gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into something far more dangerous than he had imagined.
When the freighter finally approached Phobos, the small Martian moon loomed in the viewport, its surface barren and gray. The captain's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing their descent. Claudius took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.
The ship landed with a metallic thud on the rocky surface of Phobos, and the passengers began to disembark. Claudius stepped off the freighter and onto the cold, dusty ground of the moon's spaceport. The spaceport was busy, filled with cargo haulers, technicians, and military personnel going about their duties.
As he walked through the bustling terminal, Claudius kept one hand on the box hidden beneath his jacket. Somewhere on this moon, Draven's contact was waiting. He had to deliver the package before anything else. Only then could he focus on the entrance exam, on the real reason he had come all this way.
But as he moved deeper into the spaceport, the sinking feeling in his gut only grew stronger. Claudius had made it to Phobos, but the path ahead was far more uncertain—and far more dangerous—than he had ever anticipated.