Jace Wilder stood at the front edge of the Crimson Ghost, watching the red dunes shift beneath the heavy winds, the dust whirling like spirits long forgotten. His fingers, calloused from years of holding a weapon, flexed over the controls, ensuring that the ship’s engines were firing at their peak. His mind was elsewhere, however. He had been a hunter for too long to rely solely on his instincts—he had to be sharper. Wiser. The hunt for the Vanguard had begun, but what lay ahead wasn’t just another job. No, this was more than that. He could feel it in his bones. Reverberating In the air, crackling with a kind of tension that made the walls creak.
Aria approached, her boots heavy on the metal of the ship’s hull, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the world they were about to enter. "We’re sure about this?" she asked, her voice soft but loaded with a weight of uncertainty.
Jace didn’t look at her. He didn’t need to. She had asked this question a dozen times already, and every time, he gave the same answer.
“It’s a payday,” he said simply, his voice a low rasp that held no warmth, he looked at her intently. “all I care about is the credits.”
Aria frowned, but she didn’t argue. She knew better than to press him further on things like curses. She had been with him long enough to understand that, for Jace, the hunt was all that mattered. No matter the cost.
But as she gazed out over the barren, dust-choked expanse of Velos-5, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than credits. Something about the way Piper had spoken—her cryptic warnings, the way her eyes seemed to linger just a moment too long—told Aria that this hunt would be unlike any they had embarked on before.
Jace was already climbing into the cockpit, his movements quick and efficient, a man whose body knew what to do before his mind even caught up. She followed, taking her seat at his side, the hum of the ship’s systems buzzing beneath them.
“Where to?” Aria asked, her fingers brushing over the controls.
Jace didn’t answer right away. His rough fingers moved with practiced ease, pulling up the coordinates Piper had given them. The data flickered on the dust-covered screen, and Jace’s eyes narrowed.
“Red Sands Outpost. We’ll have to move fast,” he said, his voice a murmur beneath the clamor of the ship’s engines. “There are others after the Vanguard. Anyone who knows anything about it will be there.”
Aria’s heart tightened, but she didn’t say a word. There was no time for fear or doubt now. There was only the hunt.
Quest: The Hunt for the Vanguard
- Objective: Find the hidden location of the Vanguard.
- Danger Level: High.
- Rewards: Untold riches, access to ancient Confederation technology.
- Failure Penalty: Immediate loss of reputation, potential death.
As the Crimson Ghost cut through the thickening atmosphere, Jace tapped a few commands on his console, activating the HUD linked to his Hunter’s Mark ability. The screen flickered to life, displaying the layout of the Red Sands Outpost. The mission marker pulsed steadily, a constant reminder of the goal ahead. But beneath the map, the markers for hostile players and environmental hazards flickered ominously, reminders that the game was much larger than they realized.
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Jace activated the Scanner Module, sending out a wide-reaching pulse that highlighted any nearby threats—whether human or mechanical. The array on his console flared, marking several figures in the distance. Red flags flashed and appeared over their icons, signaling they were hostile. But it was the lone marker deeper within the station’s heart that drew his eye.
Hostile Detected: Viktor Kryll - Level 56
Reputation: Infamous Bounty Hunter, Mercenary Leader.
Jace’s jaw tightened. Kryll had always been a name whispered in the dark corners of the galaxy. A man who left nothing but blood and ruin in his wake. But it was his level—56—that gnawed at Jace’s mind. In the world of bounty hunting, levels mattered. They determined how fast you could shoot, how hard you could hit, and how well you could survive. Kryll’s was a level that screamed danger.
“We’ve got company,” Jace muttered, his voice betraying nothing, though his eyes flared with an intensity that could ignite a star.
Aria raised an eyebrow, checking her own readout. “You’ve crossed paths before?”
“Once. A long time ago. Never again, if I can help it.” Jace didn’t elaborate, but there was something in his tone that made Aria hesitate. She knew better than to ask for more.
The Crimson Ghost shuddered as it entered the lower atmosphere, beginning its descent into the heart of the outpost. Jace began to power down the systems, preparing for a quick exit.
Objective: Enter Red Sands Outpost
- Required Actions:
- Gather information from the locals.
- Avoid detection by hostile players and mercenaries.
The Crimson Ghost touched down with a soft thud, the landing gear scraping the cracked reddish earth beneath. Aria stood first, her boots clicking sharply against the metal floor as she moved toward the hatch. She glanced over at Jace, who had already armed himself, his fingers brushing the worn grip of his Pistol of the Wanderer, a relic from the last war. His eyes were distant, but she could see the flicker of a calculation behind them.
“Ready?” she asked.
Jace didn’t answer. He never did. But the way he moved—the sharpness and intensity of his gaze, the way his fingers twitched at the holsters at his side—spoke volumes.
They stepped out into the sunless wasteland, the horizon painted in shades of red and orange by the dust storms, and made their way toward the outpost. The locals, rough men and women with tattered clothing and worn faces, scurried through the streets, their eyes flicking nervously toward the new arrivals.
“Stay close,” Jace muttered. “And keep your hands to yourself.”
Aria gave him a dry smile. “I always do.”
As they moved through the narrow alleys of Red Sands, the world around them seemed to hold its breath. The buildings were low and crooked, clinging to the earth as if afraid of the storm’s wrath. The ground was slick with the remnants of old battles, and every footstep seemed to echo like the footfalls of a giant. A distant clatter broke the silence—the sound of a fight, perhaps, or a warning.
Then, from an alleyway ahead, a figure appeared. It was a man, tall and lean, his face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. He wore the tattered cloak of a scavenger, the kind that picked through the wreckage left behind by wars long past. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and he moved with the quiet grace of someone who had seen too much.
“Looking for trouble, are you?” the strange man asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel scraping across stone.
Jace’s hand never left his sidearm. “Depends,” he said, his voice cool. “Do you have answers?”
The man’s lips curled into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “ Perhaps. For a price.”
Jace’s eyes narrowed.
“How much?” Aria asked, her voice steady as she readied herself for what was to come.
“Not in credits,” the man said, his smile widening into something colder. “In blood.”
New Quest: Blood for Knowledge
- Objective: Pay the price for the information you seek.
- Failure Penalty: Loss of reputation, potential death.
The storm had arrived. And with it, the price of survival.