Ch 27: Stormfront

The camp buzzed with activity as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the jagged canyon walls. Fires burned in crude steel barrels, illuminating hardened faces and the glint of well-worn weapons. Cullen's crew was a ragtag collection of outlaws, scavengers, and mercenaries, each one carrying the scars of a life spent fighting the Consortium's grip.

Kael stood by the crawler, watching the camp from a distance. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious. Mira had vouched for these people, but that didn't mean he trusted them. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Mira, on the other hand, moved through the camp like she belonged there, speaking to Cullen and his lieutenants with ease. She gestured toward Kael at one point, and he could feel the weight of their stares even from afar.

"Great," Kael muttered under his breath. "Nothing like being the center of attention."

One of Cullen's lieutenants, a wiry man with a shaved head and tattoos covering his arms, approached him. He carried a shotgun slung over his shoulder and an expression that hovered between curiosity and disdain.

"You're the one with the Consortium breathing down your neck?" the man asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Kael crossed his arms. "Seems like it."

The man snorted. "Don't look like much. What's so special about you?"

Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled a small vial from his coat—a dark, viscous liquid that shimmered faintly in the firelight. "This," he said simply.

The man frowned, leaning in for a closer look. "What is it?"

"Something I made," Kael replied. "A toxin. Fast-acting, lethal, and impossible to trace. The kind of thing that makes people like the Hounds think twice before coming after me."

The man stared at the vial, his expression hard to read. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright. Maybe you're not just some scavenger after all."

Kael watched him walk away, slipping the vial back into his coat. He didn't like flaunting his work, but it was sometimes necessary to make people take him seriously.

Later that night, Kael joined Mira and Cullen in the largest tent in the camp. A crude map of the surrounding region was spread across a makeshift table, weighed down by a few knives and empty cans.

"We've got intel that the Hounds are mobilizing," Cullen began, tapping a section of the map with his finger. "They've set up a forward base here, about a day's ride north of the canyon. If they're coming for you, that's where they'll start."

"How many are we talking about?" Kael asked, leaning over the map.

"Hard to say," Cullen admitted. "But if the Consortium wants what you've got badly enough to send the Hounds, you can bet they'll throw everything they've got at us."

Kael frowned, his mind racing. The Hounds weren't just ordinary soldiers—they were elite, relentless, and well-equipped. Facing them head-on was suicide.

"What's the plan?" Mira asked, her tone sharp and businesslike.

"We hit their forward base before they can hit us," Cullen said. "Take out their supplies, cripple their communications, and force them to regroup. If we're lucky, we can buy ourselves enough time to disappear."

Kael shook his head. "That's not going to stop them. The Consortium doesn't give up just because things get difficult. If we want to end this, we need to hit them where it hurts."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "And where would that be?"

Kael hesitated, glancing at Mira. She gave him a subtle nod, urging him to speak.

"There's a facility," Kael said finally. "One of the Consortium's key research labs. It's where they developed the tech that's on the chips I have—and probably a lot worse. If we can destroy it, we'll set them back years. Maybe even decades."

Cullen stared at him, his expression unreadable. "You're talking about going on the offensive. That's a whole different game."

"I know," Kael said. "But running isn't going to save us. Not this time."

The tent fell silent as everyone considered the weight of his words.

Finally, Cullen nodded. "Alright. We'll help you. But if this plan goes south, you'd better pray the Hounds get to you before I do."

Kael nodded, his jaw set. "Deal."

The next morning, the camp erupted into a flurry of activity as preparations began. Weapons were cleaned and loaded, vehicles were fueled, and maps were scrutinized. Kael worked tirelessly on the crawler, making last-minute modifications to ensure it could handle what was coming.

Mira approached him as he tightened a bolt on the crawler's reinforced plating. "You really think this plan is going to work?" she asked, her voice low.

"It has to," Kael replied without looking up.

She nodded, watching him work. "For what it's worth, I think you're right. Running won't save us. But you'd better be ready for what happens if we fail."

Kael glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Failure's not an option."

Mira chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You're a stubborn bastard, you know that?"

"So I've been told," Kael said, returning to his work.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the camp began to move out, a convoy of vehicles rumbling through the canyon. The storm was coming, and they were heading straight into it. But for the first time in a long time, Kael felt a glimmer of hope.

They had a plan, they had allies, and they had the will to fight. Now, all that remained was to see it through.