Codex Chrysallis

The mining outpost on the fringes of the Kepler system was a bleak, utilitarian structure, its metal walls scarred by years of harsh weather and constant repairs. The miners, a hardy group of men and women who had spent their lives extracting precious ore from the planet's unforgiving soil, were used to the dangers of their work. But nothing could have prepared them for what came next.

Despite centuries of technological advancement, AI-driven calculations had concluded that human labor remained the most cost-effective method for deep-space mining. While machines could operate in hazardous conditions without risk of damage, the cost of maintenance, repair, and replacement was astronomically high. 

Autonomous Excavation Units (AEUs) required constant oversight, and their delicate systems were vulnerable to unpredictable environmental fluctuations—electromagnetic storms, shifting tectonics, and extreme temperature variances that frequently rendered them inoperable. Humans, on the other hand, could adapt, problem-solve, and, most importantly, were expendable in the eyes of corporate profit margins.

This cold logic governed the outer colonies, where corporate entities viewed workers as resources rather than individuals. They offered competitive wages, but the reality was stark: those who signed up for mining contracts knew they were gambling with their lives for a chance at financial security. It was within this harsh environment that Jax and his crew operated—until the night everything changed.

The first warning came from the surveillance grid. A low, persistent hum that grew louder with each passing second. The outpost's chief engineer, a grizzled veteran named Jax, frowned as he studied the readouts. "What the hell is that?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the din of machinery.

His second-in-command, a young woman named Marwa, leaned over his shoulder, her brow furrowed. "It's coming from the eastern perimeter," she said, her voice tense. "Something's out there."

Before Jax could respond, the transceiver crackled to life. "Jax, we've got movement on the eastern ridge," came the voice of one of the perimeter guards. "I can't get a clear visual, but it's big. And it's moving fast."

Jax swore under his breath and grabbed his rifle. "Marwa, lock down the outpost. No one gets in or out until we know what we're dealing with."

Marwa nodded and began typing furiously at the control panel, her fingers flying over the keys. The heavy blast doors slid shut with a resounding clang, sealing the outpost off from the outside world.

Jax made his way to the observation deck, his rifle slung over his shoulder. At first, he saw nothing. Then, a movement caught his eye—a dark, hulking shape emerging from the shadows.

"What the hell..." Jax muttered, raising his binoculars for a closer look.

The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was massive, its body covered in thick, armored plates that glistened in the moonlight. Its eyes glowed with a sickly green light, and its mouth was a gaping maw filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. But the most disturbing thing was the way it moved—unnaturally fast, its limbs twisting and contorting in ways that defied logic.

Jax's blood ran cold. "Marwa, get on the comms. We need backup. Now."

Before Marwa could respond, the creature let out a deafening roar and charged. The ground shook beneath its weight as it barreled toward the outpost, its claws tearing through the rocky terrain like it was nothing.

"Open fire!" Jax shouted, raising his rifle and unleashing a barrage of bullets at the creature.

The perimeter guards followed suit, their weapons lighting up the night with bursts of gunfire. But the creature's armor was too thick, the bullets bouncing harmlessly off its hide. It slammed into the outpost's outer wall with the force of a freight train, the impact sending shockwaves through the structure.

Inside, the miners scrambled for cover as the walls groaned under the strain. "We can't hold it off!" one of the guards shouted over the comms. "We need to fall back!"

Jax gritted his teeth. "Fall back to the inner perimeter! And someone get me a damn rail launcher!"

In the dimly lit recesses of the Reyes estate, Alaric's mind wandered, his thoughts restless under the weight of his secret alliance with the Codex Chrysallis. The council meeting was scheduled to be held tomorrow, and though his allies—including Lira—debated strategy nearby, he kept his deeper intent well guarded. The attack on the 6th Outpost wasn't random. It was a calculated move to unsettle the council and chip away at Cassian's authority.

Lira watched him from her seat, her sharp gaze. "Cassian's grip on the council is firm—for now."

Alaric turned to her with an air of practiced calm. "Too early to tell, but a misstep might strengthen his hold instead of cracking it."

She raised a brow, studying him with faint amusement. "You're cautious today."

He let a faint smile tug at his lips, an old habit that disarmed suspicion. "Strategic. There's a difference."

Lira didn't respond immediately, leaning back as if waiting for more. When it didn't come, she pushed gently. "Do you think it's the Dominion? Their movements have been unusually aggressive lately."

Alaric hesitated just long enough to make it seem as though he was contemplating something. "It's plausible." A pause, and then his voice softened. "But this gives us the opening we need, if we can redirect blame."

Before she could respond, the quiet chime of a secure transceiver interrupted them. Lira glanced at her wristband, tapping it once before muttering, "It's coming through the emergency comms."

Alaric stiffened slightly, masking his immediate interest. "What kind of emergency?"

Far across the stars, the 8th Outpost was descending into chaos.

"This is Jax!" a frantic voice broke through the static, filling the Reyes estate's private channel. "We're under attack! Unknown biologicals are breaching the outer defenses. Requesting immediate assistance!"

The sharp, garbled sound crackled through Lira's device, piercing the silence of the room. Alaric didn't so much as flinch, though a flicker of satisfaction crossed his mind. It had begun.

The message arrived at the heart of the council chamber, carried by an aide whose hurried footsteps echoed through the stately halls. Cassian stood at the chamber's head, reading the aide's pale expression before the words even left his lips. "Chancellor, we've received a transmission from the 8th Outpost too. It's… urgent."

Cassian nodded sharply. "First the 6th outpost and now the 8th? Summon the council immediately."

The call went out, and one by one, the chamber filled. Orinthia arrived first, her dark robes sweeping across the marble floor, followed by Elder Kael, whose grim presence seemed to draw whispers of unease. Alaric entered last, slipping in silently and taking a position just out of the main circle, his face impassive.

Once the doors sealed and the murmur of voices settled, Cassian gestured to the aide, who activated a holographic feed at the room's center. Commander Jax's distorted image flickered into existence, his face bloodied and his voice panicked. "This is Jax—we're under attack! Unknown biologicals breaching outer defenses. Requesting immediate assistance!"

The transmission crackled violently before cutting off, leaving the council enveloped in heavy silence.

Cassian's voice broke the stillness, heavy with urgency and authority. "We can't afford to lose the 8th Outpost. We need to dispatch a response team immediately."

Orinthia narrowed her gaze at the flickering hologram, leaning forward with her hands clasped before her. "Unknown biologicals… I can't help but wonder if the Dominion is behind this. Their recent activities have been anything but predictable."

Elder Kael spoke next, his voice measured but grave. "Losing that outpost means losing our largest Zephyronium reserve. It would throw every one of our strategic operations into chaos. We need to handle this with the utmost caution—full containment protocols, no shortcuts."

As discussions swirled, Alaric listened intently, hiding his satisfaction behind a mask of concern. He glanced at Lira, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She was clever, but even she didn't know the full extent of his dealings.

Cassian's gaze swept the room. "What matters now is action. Assemble our best operatives, secure the outpost, and uncover the origin of this attack. I expect reports within the hour and updates on our supply lines."

As the others busied themselves with their tasks, Cassian's personal terminal flashed with a high-priority encryption marker—one not tied to the council's official channels. His expression darkened. Only a handful of people had access to his private communication network. If Marwa had sent this through a private transceiver instead of the council's, there had to be a reason.

He stood, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off tension. "I need a moment," he said, voice even. "Continue without me."

No one questioned it. The room was already thick with discussion, debates unfolding over the official report he had just presented. Without another word, he strode out, making his way to a secure, isolated chamber deep within the estate. Only once the door sealed behind him did he access the transmission.

Marwa's voice came through, tense and urgent.

"Chancellor, this is Marwa. I don't know how much time I have, so I'll keep this short. We were attacked. Unknown biologicals breached the outpost's perimeter. We lost contact with several squads within minutes. Jax held them off as long as he could, but we were overwhelmed. I don't know if he made it."

"But that's not the worst of it."

A shaky breath.

"Just before the attack, we received a transmission from someone we believed was dead. Amar. He said he was forced to aid them—threatened into helping orchestrate this operation. He said that if anything happened to him, this message would be sent automatically. That he was being used. And that the ones behind it called themselves 'Codex Chrysallis'."

Cassian exhaled slowly, fingers curling into fists. He stared at the screen, the weight of the message settling in. Whatever Codex Chrysallis was, it had just declared war.