The return journey to Dyris-5 passed in tense silence. The Vanguard's skimmers and corvettes formed a protective corridor around Julius's lead craft, their sensors scanning for lingering threats. Seraphel hovered beside him in the cockpit, her glow dim but steady.
"The Hive's hybrid code has dissolved," she reported. "But I detect faint ripple signatures—residual fluctuations in the Source's network. They remain, though muted."
Julius nodded. "That means our work isn't done. Whatever we fought at Codex-9 wasn't the Source itself—just an echo. We need to find where those ripples converge."
Meanwhile, Brinley checked weapon systems. "Got bogies on sensors—unidentified craft entering the Expanse."
Vara leaned forward, eyes scanning the viewscreen. "No response to our hails. They're not Hive, but they're not aligned with the Concord either."
Selene's fingers danced over her datapad. "Transponder codes unregistered. Their vector matches an old mercenary convoy that once served the Archaium Initiative—called Blacklight Syndicate. Rumor said they vanished centuries ago."
Julius frowned. "If they're back, they could be after the Forge Seed or hunting allied worlds."
"Vector adjusted," Lia Vrissa's voice crackled over the comm. "They're heading toward the Outer Refuge Colony—Sanctum Prime. Estimated time to impact: 47 minutes."
Julius exhaled. "We'll need to split forces. Brinley, Ryka, lead a rescue contingent to Sanctum Prime. Vara, you and Selene come with me to track these Blacklight craft. We'll intercept before they strike again."
The fleet divided: skimmers peeled off toward the colony's coordinates, engines flaring, while Julius's wing dove deeper into the Expanse. Seraphel's glow brightened as she synchronized with the Forge Seed's link, guiding them toward the ripples' source.
---
Sanctum Prime
Brinley's team arrived at Sanctum Prime in a flurry of activity. Once a thriving refuge for displaced colonists, the station now orbited a dusty desert world—its domes cracked, power grids flickering. Blacklight Syndicate interceptors hovered overhead, their black hulls gleaming beneath the station's emergency lights.
Ryka's Hollow Kin deployed first, storming the station's external defenses. Marines in Echelon-tuned hydrosuits followed, repelling squads of Syndicate mercenaries. Explosions rocked the surface as plasma and incendiary rounds ignited panels.
"Civvies are trapped in the lower domes!" Brinley shouted over the roar. He sprinted toward an elevator bay beneath the cratered control deck. "Ryka, clear a path to that dome!"
Ryka nodded, blade flickering. "On it!"
Inside the station, corridors were choked with debris and panicked refugees. Brinley led Selene and Ryka through ruined passages to the lower dome—where blackout conditions masked merc patrols. The overhead lights flickered on, revealing Syndicate troopers crowding the entrance.
"Ambush!" Brinley yelled. He unleashed a volley of plasma rounds, blasting the troopers backward. Ryka charged, blade slicing through armors. Selene activated a flash grenade, disorienting the remaining mercs long enough to seal the dome's bulkhead.
They found the civilians cowering in makeshift shelters—elderly colonists and wounded children. Brinley ushered them to safety, while Ryka set up defensive turrets at the sealed entrance.
"Sanctum Prime secured," Brinley reported. "No casualties among civilians."
Ryka pointed to a side corridor. "But the Syndicate's lead boarding ship has docked at the observation platform. Major Qol—he's negotiating a ransom for the Seed's fragments."
Brinley's jaw tightened. "We'll be there before they can finish."
---
Echo's Fury
Meanwhile, Julius, Vara, and Selene tracked Blacklight's craft through turbulent starfields. The ripples in the Source's network coalesced at a waypoint near the Nebula Spire—an ancient installation linked to Archaium prototypes.
"This place rings with old code," Selene observed. "They're trying to tap into the Forge Seed's echoes."
Vara peered at the approaching convoy: a flagship cruiser flanked by sleek interceptors, hulls etched in ancient runic script. "That's their command. We take it down, we starve their hive–forge ambitions."
Julius engaged stealth field, gliding his skimmer through nebular mists. "On my mark… Attack."
Their skimmers dove forward in a pincer maneuver. Seraphel's energy blasted through the lead interceptor's shields, while Vara and Selene targeted the flagship's comm arrays. Incendiary rounds erupted along the hull, rupturing its stealth coils.
Inside the flagship, corridors echoed with alarms. Syndicate mercenaries scrambled as brassy alarms sounded. Julius's skimmer breached the side hull, and he rappelled into the command deck—Seraphel by his side.
A group of black-clad marines turned. Brinley's face appeared on a holo-projection: "Remember Sanctum Prime. Stand down!"
The Syndicate commander, Major Qol, sneered. "You think saving a dwarf station matters? We will control the Source's power."
Julius advanced, blade-arm extended. "Not today." He struck through the hull of a nearby console, flooding the deck with electromagnetic discharges.
Vara stormed in behind him, glaive ablaze, clearing mercs from the perimeter. Selene tapped terminals, uploading a Forge Seed feedback loop that spiked every onboard system.
The flagship's engines surged, losing stability. Before the Syndicate could react, Seraphel extended a ripple pulse, collapsing the command deck's zero–gravity field. Mercenaries tumbled into consoles as alarms blared.
Qol's sneer faltered. "You… cannot—"
Julius lunged, blade-arm striking the major's helm. The strike shattered his neural cluster, and his suit collapsed in a heap of sparks.
Downstairs, Brinley's marines secured the docking bay. "Hostiles neutralized," he reported. "Blacklight command broken."
Vara surveyed the damaged cruiser. "Their ambition drowned in their own folly."
Seraphel connected to the propulsion core's override. "Initiating demise protocol." The flagship's power cores glowed red, then vanished in a pulse of clean light.
Julius exhaled in relief. "Heard it singing?" he asked Seraphel.
"Music of closure," she replied softly.
---
Homecoming
Hours later, the Vanguard returned to Dyris-5. The incoming relief convoys were met with fireworks and cheers. Julius disembarked onto the Vault's ramp, Seraphel beside him, greeted by a throng of allies—Vara, Brinley, Ryka, Selene, Lia Vrissa, and countless others.
Julius addressed them, his voice echoing off the vaulted chambers. "We faced new embers of the Hive, new syndicate shadows—yet together, we prevailed. The Dawn's Edge Concord stands stronger than ever."
Lia Vrissa stepped forward. "My fleet will remain on alert. But for tonight, we celebrate."
In the Great Hall, tables groaned under food—dishes from neighboring systems, each representing one of the Concord's members. Music swelled as Echelon-guided holograms danced above.
Seraphel hovered above the Forge Seed's cradle. "The Source's ripples are faint now, distant. But they remind us: vigilance is our vow."
Julius approached, hand extended. "Then let this night stand as testament—hope forged from unity. Tomorrow, we watch. We protect. We build."
Around them, the Vanguard cheered, glasses raised, forging a moment of peace that glowed against the vault's living walls—an ember of hope in the vast cosmic night.