Eternal Seeker Hangar.
Asuka stepped down from the shuttle, having changed into dry clothes, but the tips of her hair were still damp, and her face was tight with exhaustion and lingering rage.
Zeratul walked alongside her. The Dark Templar's footsteps were as steady as ever, his glowing green eyes showing no obvious injuries, only a deep weariness from the prolonged, intense use of Psionic Energy.
Valerie was already waiting in the hangar, the screen of the Dataslate in her hand glowing faintly.
"Unit-01 has safely warped back to the pathfinder's hangar with 98.2% structural integrity; only the surface paint suffered minor peeling. The A.T. Field generator recorded a peak load of 68%, which has now dropped back to baseline levels. The energy system is at 57% depletion, and the replenishment process has begun." Her report was concise and precise before she turned to Zeratul. "The medical bay has prepared a Psionic Energy stabilization environment for your team members. Their conditions are generally stable."
Zeratul gave a slight nod. "Their resilience is commendable. I myself require no special treatment."
"Where is Kerrigan?" Asuka pressed, irritability suppressed in her voice.
"She is on the Leviathan." Valerie shifted her gaze back to the Dataslate. "the Swarm's holding force has disengaged as planned, successfully tying down the main Imperial fleet.
In terms of battle results, two Imperial destroyers and several frigates were sunk. Our own losses remain within expected parameters, and tactical objectives were achieved.
However, according to Psionic Energy fluctuation readings, Kerrigan's emotional state is... extremely unstable."
Before her words finished, heavy and rapid footsteps echoed from the hangar entrance.
Kerrigan appeared. She hadn't even waited for the shuttlecraft to complete standard docking procedures, using short-range Psionic Energy teleportation to board the Eternal Seeker directly.
The amber glow in her eyes almost overwhelmed the clear blue, dark-gold veins beneath her skin pulsed violently, and the aura of Psionic Energy pressure surrounding her seemed to freeze the air inside the hangar.
The Psionic Energy wings behind her spread open uncontrollably, their edges flickering subtly as if overloaded with energy.
"Where is Osiris?" Her voice was bone-chillingly cold, each word forced through gritted teeth.
"The briefing room," Valerie answered calmly. "He is waiting for you."
Kerrigan said nothing more and strode straight down the corridor. Asuka and Zeratul exchanged a glance and followed close behind.
The light in the briefing room was stark and cold. Osiris's Main Body stood beside the head of the table. A holographic star map floated in the center, displaying real-time conditions for Crest IV and the surrounding star systems.
Kerrigan was the first to step inside, her gaze slicing into Osiris like a blade. "This was your 'precision strike'? We walked right into a glaring trap without even seeing a trace of Raynor!
the Swarm lost a lot of troops in the holding action just for a result like this?"
"The operation failed to achieve its primary objective." Osiris turned his optical sensors toward her, his synthesized voice steady as ever. "However, progress was made on secondary objectives. Combat data for Unit-01, parameters of the Imperium's new Psionic Energy weaponry, and the battlefield application efficiency of Protoss warp technology have all been fully acquired.
the Swarm's holding forces also successfully completed their tactical assignment, proving their capability to execute such orders. This operation was not entirely devoid of value."
"Value?" Kerrigan sneered, slamming her palm onto the metal tabletop, her chitinous fingertips leaving faint scratches on the alloy surface. "I want Raynor back alive, not whatever data you've gathered!"
"That is precisely why we need to analyze the causes of failure and formulate a follow-up plan." Unfazed by her outburst, Osiris pulled up the battle debriefing footage of Crest IV. "Mengsk anticipated that we would attempt a rescue and laid a trap.
Paradoxically, this proves that Raynor holds sufficient value to him as bait. Therefore, he is highly likely still alive, detained at a location Mengsk deems safer or of greater strategic significance."
Zeratul stepped up to the star map, his glowing green eyes scanning the Sector. "Relying solely on public 'trial' announcements is no longer reliable. We need new sources of intelligence."
"The hyperion and its entire crew were captured alongside Raynor." Osiris brought up the scanning debris analysis data from the area of Raynor's capture. "A transfer and detention of such scale cannot leave no trace. Finding the hyperion may lead us to Raynor."
Valerie, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "During my time aboard the hyperion, I heard Vice Commander Matt Horner mention that he had some unofficial channels in Dead Mans Port.
It is the largest gathering place for pirates, Mercenaries, and information brokers in the Koprulu Sector, where rumors and black-market dealings fill every corner.
If we want to inquire about unknown transport routes or secret detention facilities within the Imperium, Dead Mans Port might be a good starting point."
"Dead Mans Port..." Zeratul murmured. "It is indeed a place shrouded in shadows beyond the complete control of any faction. Certain intelligence networks of the Dark Templar once reached there as well, though it was never our primary area of operation."
Osiris's optical sensors flickered slightly, as if rapidly searching his database. "The intelligence value of Dead Mans Port can be evaluated.
At the same time, I can conduct limited probing through General Warfield's channels.
The Imperial military is not monolithic; there may be individuals with varying levels of clearance who know Raynor's location and handling protocol. We will proceed on two fronts to gather intelligence before formulating our next rescue plan."
"Gather intelligence? Wait even longer?" Kerrigan's voice rose sharply, her surrounding Psionic Energy surges turning volatile once more. "I've waited long enough! Mengsk is right there, and his fleet was just torn open by the Swarm!
I can assemble all current Swarm forces to exert direct pressure on the Imperium's core Sector! Force him to hand over Raynor, or at least force him to reveal a flaw!"
A brief silence fell over the briefing room, punctuated only by the crackle of tiny electric arcs generated by Kerrigan's unstable Psionic Energy field in the air.
"Anger is a reasonable reaction, Sarah Kerrigan," Zeratul said slowly, his voice deep. "But a blind ad-
-vance might play right into Mengsk's hands. He might be hoping that you lose your reason and lead the Swarm into a direct collision with the main Imperial forces.
When that time comes, regardless of the outcome, you will become the 'public enemy' openly denounced by the Imperium, and your mission to fight Amon will be swallowed up in endless warfare."
"Then what do you expect me to do? Sit here and wait for Mengsk to be in a good mood one day and send over Raynor's head?!" Kerrigan whirled on Zeratul, the light in her eyes flickering dangerously.
Osiris's mechanical body leaned forward slightly, the red light of his optical sensors steadily covering Kerrigan. "Your strength is your greatest bargaining chip, Kerrigan. But chips must be wagered at the right time.
the Swarm can maintain continuous pressure on the Imperium now, carrying out limited raids to force Mengsk to divide his attention while concealing our true reconnaissance operations.
However, the timing for an all-out offensive should be after we locate Raynor's precise whereabouts, not before."
He paused briefly before adding, "If you insist on launching a large-scale offensive now, I will not stop you. That is your choice.
But I must remind you that once the Swarm and the Imperium plunge into total war, you will be hard-pressed to spare any strength to face the true threat—Amon.
Your revenge versus your mission—which holds greater weight is something you must weigh for yourself."
Kerrigan glared fixatedly at Osiris, her chest heaving with emotion.
Only after a long while did the Psionic Energy fluctuations around her slowly settle, though the murderous intent in her eyes remained undiminished in the slightest.
"—I will have the Swarm maintain harassing pressure against the Imperium border Sector," she finally said, her voice remaining icy. "However, it will not be a mindless all-out offensive. As for intelligence—I will personally assign people to Dead Mans Port."
"Acceptable." Osiris accepted this compromise. "Valerie, coordinate with Kerrigan to sift through Dead Mans Port's suspicious contact points and intelligence broker data. Zeratul, can the Dark Templar intelligence network provide assistance?"
"I will reach out to brethren still operating outside Shakuras and attempt to activate dormant nodes," Zeratul nodded. "However, it will take time."
"Then that serves as our preliminary operational framework," Osiris summarized. "Gather intelligence from multiple channels to locate Raynor and the hyperion. Kerrigan will exert pressure through Swarm harassment, while avoiding total war.
During this period, finalize an in-depth analysis of the data from this engagement to optimize subsequent potential rescue operations."
He did not mention the specific method by which he would probe through Warfield; that belonged to his own independent sphere of action.
The meeting concluded amid an atmosphere that was taut, yet had achieved at least a superficial consensus.
Kerrigan was the first to depart, her figure vanishing at the far end of the corridor, the lingering pressure of her Psionic Energy hanging in the air for a long time.
After offering a slight nod to Osiris, Zeratul turned and left as well, clearly off to contact his brethren.
Asuka remained until the end. Looking at Osiris, she curled her lip: "Hate to admit it—but we really did lose this time. Next time, we're definitely dragging that bastard out."
"There will be a next time," Osiris's synthesized voice replied, flat yet resolute. "Once the data analysis is complete, I will need you to undergo targeted simulation training to counter more complex ambushes and new types of Psionic Energy weaponry."
"Got it." Asuka waved dismissively and departed the briefing room as well.
Only Osiris and Valerie remained in the room.
Osiris turned to her: "Aside from combing through Dead Mans Port intelligence, I need you to focus on analyzing the chain-of-command Reflexes patterns displayed by the Imperium during the battle on Crest IV, especially their emergency adjustment efficiency following the communications blackout.
This will aid us in discerning where the Imperium's internal vulnerabilities lie regarding similar unexpected incidents."
"Understood." Valerie noted it down swiftly. "Furthermore, concerning the inquiries made via General Warfield's channels, will you require me to prepare a specific 'Tech consultation' agenda as a pretext for contact?"
"I will handle it." Osiris's optical sensors flashed faintly. "Draft a Tech consultation proposal concerning 'anti-Psionic Energy disruption shielding for heavy ground units.' The specifications must be high enough to capture Warfield's interest and prompt him to report it upward. That will serve as a plausible entry point for our outreach."
"Understood."
After Valerie took her leave, Osiris stood alone before the star map.
Crimson optical sensors reflected countless points of light.
A tactical defeat, yet the strategic outcome remained undecided. Kerrigan's wrath was temporarily constrained, the intelligence network was beginning to activate, and the Imperium infiltration channels were about to be engaged.
And Raynor, that pivotal piece, was still positioned in some corner of the board.
Locating him would not only restabilize the alliance with Kerrigan, but also unlock numerous secrets at the Imperium's core—including the potential, yet unclarified connection between Mengsk and Amon.
The next placement of pieces had to be executed with far greater precision.
Korhal, deep within the Imperium's imperial palace.
The heavy oak doors of the private office were firmly shut, sealing out every sound from the outside world.
The interior lights were deliberately dimmed; only the emperor's immense solid-wood desk, occupying a third of the room, was illuminated by an overhead lamp.
Scattered across the desk were post-action reports from Crest IV, damage assessments, and operational summaries submitted by frontline Commanders. Along the margins of every document, displeasing figures were highlighted in glaring red.
Arcturus Mengsk stood behind the desk, palms braced against the edge, his torso leaning slightly forward.
He was not clad in the ornate formal regalia reserved for public view, wearing only a dark, mandarin-collared service uniform. The Imperium golden eagle upon his epaulets cast a cold, hard glint beneath the light.
His face remained veiled in shadow, but his eyes—piercing, deep, and currently blazing with tightly suppressed rage—resembled a predator lying in wait within the darkness.
Crash!
With a furious sweep of his arm, he violently hurled a stack of documents from the desk to the floor.
Sheets of paper fluttered down like snowflakes, while several Dataslates still projecting holographic markers smashed onto the marble floor with sharp cracking sounds.
"Incompetence!" Mengsk's voice was not quite a shout, but terrifyingly low, every syllable carrying crushing weight. "A flawless bait! An inescapable dragnet prepared a week in advance with heavy reinforcements! Even the 'Ghost Blade' squad was lying in wait beforehand! And what was the outcome?!"
He slowly drew himself upright, his gaze cutting like a blade toward the two individuals standing silently a few paces before the desk: Imperium Minister of Security Valkyrie, and the field Commander of the operation freshly returned from the Crest IV front, a middle-aged officer bearing the rank of lieutenant general.
A fresh streak of blood ran across the lieutenant general's temple, grazed by flying debris during the earlier chaos; he did not even dare lift a hand to wipe it away.
"The Queen of Blades! That monster who was supposed to have had her sanity burned away by hatred came, pulverized half of my capital district, and then got away!
The Protoss Dark Templar set up a warp beacon on my core world as casually as if strolling through their own backyard, and then fled right alongside her!
We hooked Raynor, the largest piece of bait, yet the shark that bit the hook tore the net to shreds and sauntered off!"
Mengsk's voice rose sharply, his palm crashing down upon the hard solid-wood desktop with a dull, thunderous crack. "And you, my loyal generals—what results have you brought back to me?!"
He took a step forward, his leather boots crunching into the scattered documents with a sickening squeak as he leaned nearly into the lieutenant general's face: "Two destroyers and four frigates sunk by the Swarm! The Hall of Justice in the capital of Crest IV razed to the ground!
The planetary communications grid knocked out for over seven hours! Ground force casualties exceeding four thousand! Five blocks of Imperium property reduced to rubble!
And the price paid by the enemy was merely a few expendable bugs, plus zero damage to that red monstrosity! Zero losses! Zero kills! It even strutted right before my eyes, staging a one-sided 'crushing exhibition,' and then dusted itself off and walked away!"
Those final sentences were practically growled from his throat, veins bulging along his neck.
Minister of Security Valkyrie, a middle-aged woman with a stern countenance and hawk-sharp eyes, lowered her gaze slightly and spoke in a steady, distinct voice: "Your Majesty, while the joint operation between the Queen of Blades and the Protoss resulted in losses, it also completely exposed their deep bond with Raynor, as well as an immensely powerful trump card in their hands that was previously unknown to us.
Our failure to expand upon our gains in this operation is indeed regrettable, yet we successfully forced this trump card to reveal itself ahead of time and confirmed its threat classification. From a long-term intelligence standpoint—"
"The long term? Intelligence value?" Mengsk spun around abruptly, cutting off her report. A cold, mocking sneer curled at the corner of his lips. "Valkyrie, what I want is now! Immediately!
Grind those arrogant bastards who dared trample on my face into dust! Hang them from the palace's outer walls for all to see!
Let the entire Sector know what fate awaits anyone who challenges the authority of Arcturus Mengsk! A 'trump card'?
That's not just a card—that's a dagger pressed straight against my throat!"
He inhaled deeply, his chest heaving violently, forcing himself to withdraw from the blinding rage that threatened to incinerate his reason.
Rage solved nothing, especially when the issue involved a kind of... power that defied all reason.
He walked back behind his desk and sank heavily into his high-backed chair. Swiping roughly across the control panel, he brought up the high-definition combat footage transmitted from the frontlines of Crest IV.
The footage played silently, but the sheer visual impact of that red colossus was not diminished in the slightest.
Descending from a pillar of blue light, it strolled casually through a storm of fire, obliterating a Thor Mech in a single strike, and casually reducing the rooftop of the Ministry of Justice building to slag with a mere wave of its hand...
Mengsk's gaze locked dead onto that crimson figure. The boiling fury directed at his subordinates' incompetence was gradually replaced by a different emotion—colder, deeper, yet far more burning: a complex mixture of profound dread and blazing greed.
"This thing..." he muttered under his breath, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished surface of his desk, producing
soft "tap, tap" sounds. "What does the analysis report say?"
Valkyrie immediately took half a step forward, pulling up another encrypted holographic document. "The initial joint assessment by the Tech Analysis Division and the Ghost Forces Tech Evaluation Team is that this unit falls under the classification of a super-heavy humanoid combat mech, but its Tech pathway shows zero overlap with the Imperium, the Protoss, or any other known faction.
The principles behind its energy shield Tech are completely unknown. Its defensive efficiency—according to calculations—reaches an unfathomable level, rendering conventional firepower virtually incapable of inflicting any real degradation.
Its primary weapon system possesses an exceptionally high energy output, seemingly integrating high-energy particle streams with unknown spatial effects. The destructive power of a single discharge rivals or even exceeds that of certain capital ship main cannons.
Its mobility is severely disproportionate to its colossal tonnage, and its propulsion system and drive train architecture remain a mystery.
The overarching Tech evaluation concludes: the generational Tech gap is immense. It cannot be reverse-engineered or effectively countered within our existing framework."
"Cannot be analyzed... cannot be countered..." Mengsk rolled the words over his tongue, his eyes growing brighter and brighter. "In other words, this is an absolute weapon—one we are utterly incapable of understanding, yet capable of overturning the balance of power in a single engagement."
He leaned back into the chair, hands clasped before him, plunging into a brief, lightning-fast train of thought.
A dead silence descended upon the office, broken only by the faint tapping of his fingers against the armrest.
If... if such power could be wielded by the Imperium...
The Protoss's magnificent Golden Armada? Against that kind of absolute defense, it would likely be reduced to nothing more than an expensive, useless sitting duck, picked apart piece by piece.
the Swarm's overwhelming, rampaging tide of beasts? Perhaps sheer numbers and attrition could eventually wear it down, but how many lives would have to be thrown into that grinder? A hundred thousand? A million? And what if the enemy possessed more than one?
Even the pirates and Mercenary syndicates entrenched in Dead Mans Port who continually defied authority, or the regional governors scattered across the fringe Star Systems who only paid lip service to the throne—beneath such absolute military deterrence, who would dare harbor even the slightest treachery?
Mengsk's breath quickened for an instant.
He seemed to envision an invincible Legion composed of these red colossi, sweeping across all frontiers beneath his will, bringing every corner and every inch of the Koprulu Sector's skies entirely under his absolute dominion.
When that day came, he would no longer be an emperor, but... a god.
Yet in the next second, cold reality shattered his illusion.
This power was currently in the hands of the enemy.
In the hands of the enemies who sought to rescue Raynor and stood diametrically opposed to him.
Furthermore, there were undeniable traces linking it to that secretive Tech entity known as the Far Star Union, as well as its core figure, Osiris.
These traces were so blatant that Mengsk could practically confirm their involvement, yet he forced himself not to jump to a final
conclusion—at least, not in any public capacity.
"Osiris..." Mengsk slowly uttered the name, his tone a complicated brew of annoyance, scrutiny, and profound restraint.
A "partner" who provided invaluable Tech, yet remained impossible to genuinely control.
However, Mengsk preferred to treat this temporarily as Osiris making a "risky investment" or "hedging his bets" rather than a declaration of an all-out break—at least until he acquired the Tech behind that red colossus or found an undeniable alternative, he needed to maintain this channel.
"Your Majesty, multiple lines of evidence point toward the Far Star Union," Minister of Security Valkyrie added at the right moment. Her voice remained calm as ever, stating facts rather than inciting emotion. "Battlefield surveillance clearly captured that the vessel operating in tandem with the red colossus and providing its final warp extraction platform was a specially disguised standard Terran warship. Its design is entirely identical to the pathfinder that previously appeared during our cooperation with Osiris.
Furthermore, in-depth behavioral analysis of this colossal unit's combat patterns shows its operational logic to be exceptionally efficient and goal-oriented, accompanied by systematic battlefield data harvesting throughout the engagement.
This highly rational, data-driven style matches the characteristics demonstrated by Osiris and his team across all previous interactions and collaborations... to an extremely high degree."
"So, the probability is overwhelmingly high that this thing is a creation of the Far Star Union, or perhaps even a hidden trump card held close to Osiris's chest." Mengsk arrived at the conclusion he had already accepted deep down.
Rather than easing the apprehension in his heart, this only made his lust for power flare up like fuel poured on fire, violently surging
upward.
Since the source was very likely in the hands of this "partner" with whom he still maintained a working relationship, acquiring its Tech through negotiation, infiltration, or coercive pressure shifted from a distant fantasy into a strategic objective worthy of full-scale execution.
The key might very well be right beside him; he only needed to find a way to crack open the other party's vault.
"Warfield," Mengsk pondered for a moment, his gaze turning sharp and calm once more as political calculations triumphed over sheer anger. "He still maintains that superficial channel of Tech exchange and procurement with Osiris.
This line must not be cut.
Contact him. Under the pretext that the Imperial forces are 'paying close attention to the unknown super-heavy unit that appeared in the Crest IV incident,' formally submit a Tech consultation request to Osiris.
The agenda can be framed as 'exploring potential tactical approaches to countering such units' and that 'the Imperium holds a strong interest in its related defensive Tech, seeking possibilities for cooperation.'
He paused, his voice taking on added weight: "Remember, the objective is not to extract any real tactical answers from Osiris—that's impossible.
The objective is to probe! Probe the depth of his understanding regarding this red colossus, probe his attitude toward this affair, probe—
...
Whether, beyond this 'unforeseen variable' of Raynor, he is willing to engage with the Imperium regarding'strategic Tech of this caliber' in discussions and exchanges that are 'deeper' and 'more substantive' than our current framework."
Valkyrie understood tacitly and nodded slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty. I will clearly and accurately convey your intentions, along with the necessary background information, to General Warfield."
"Furthermore," Mengsk's eyes suddenly turned cold, like eternal arctic ice, "as of this moment, the security classification regarding the detention location, status, and all related information of Jim Raynor and the entire crew of the hyperion is raised to Top Secret.
Except for myself and the Commander directly in charge of the prison system, no one—including you, Valkyrie—may query, contact, or access this information for any reason or in any form without an electronic secret order personally signed by me.
Initiate the transfer procedure immediately and execute the contingency plan.
I want them to completely evaporate from the view of all conventional and unconventional intelligence networks until the moment I deem it necessary for them to 'reappear' on the chessboard."
"Understood." Valkyrie's response showed not the slightest hesitation or ripple; executing top-secret directives was as natural to her as breathing.
"As for the aftermath on Crest IV and the public narrative regarding this incident—" Mengsk waved his hand, his tone returning to imperial indifference and unquestionable authority, "standardize the propaganda narrative: Imperial forces heroically thwarted and repelled a malicious terrorist attack on Crest IV, a symbol of Imperial justice, launched jointly by the remnants of the Raynor terrorist organization, Xenos forces, and certain irresponsible third-party Tech conglomerates.
Imperial forces demonstrated formidable combat power and a resolute will to defend, dealing a heavy blow to the enemy and defending the law and order's...
...dignity.
Emphasize the chaotic and despicable nature of the attackers, and downplay the specific details of that red unit, vaguely describing it as an unverified, large-scale experimental weapon.
All fallen soldiers are posthumously awarded the 'Silver Star Medal' of the Imperial Guardian, with pensions issued at the highest wartime standard plus an additional fifty percent special condolence payment. That is all."
"Yes, sir." The lieutenant general, who had been holding his breath almost the entire time, finally dared to accept the order in a low voice, his tone filled with the exhaustion of surviving a crisis.
"Dismissed." Mengsk closed his eyes and leaned back against his chair, as if the decisions he had just made had drained much of his energy.
Valkyrie and the lieutenant general bowed silently, making a swift and quiet exit from this study filled with tension and calculation.
The heavy, soundproof doors slid shut silently, isolating the inside from the outside. Mengsk remained alone in the dimness and silence, with only the frozen image of the red colossus on the holographic screen in front of him emitting a cold, mysterious, and incomparably tempting glow.
His fingers unconsciously caressed the smooth armrest of his chair. The thunderous rage in his eyes had vanished, replaced by bottomless calculation, naked greed, and a burning intensity—a mix of dread and excitement fitting a tyrant facing unknown, powerful Tech.
That power—must be brought into the service of the Imperium. It must be brought under the control of Arcturus Mengsk.
And Osiris—this collaborator who held the potential key yet acted unpredictably—was a complex variable that had to be handled with extreme caution.
He was both a potential shortcut to that coveted Tech and a dangerous hazard capable of detonating at any moment.
Until that Tech was obtained or an alternative was found, this fragile facade of cooperation still needed to be meticulously maintained.
In the frontier Sector of the Imperium, aboard the Battlecruiser Steadfast, flagship of General Warfield.
Inside the private communications room, the lighting was soft, and the jamming field was operating at full capacity, ensuring that not a single signal could leak out.
General Warfield sat upright in his reserved chair, his posture as ramrod-straight as ever, his dark blue general's uniform ironed without a single wrinkle.
However, a gloom deeper than usual hung between his brows, and his eyes lacked some of their battlefield sharpness, carrying an imperceptible trace of fatigue and... distress.
Displayed in the holographic projection before him was a summary of the secret orders sent by Emperor Mengsk via the palace security line, along with a detailed action report and analysis attached by Security Minister Valkyrie.
The descriptions of the red colossus's performance, the replays of the battle footage, and the Emperor's hint of a "more substantive dialogue" weighed heavily on his mind like giant boulders.
As a pure soldier, Warfield was more accustomed to executing orders between clear battle lines, winning victories through firepower and tactics.
Political maneuvering, Tech trade, and these probings and calculations wrapped in the cloak of cooperation were neither his strong suit nor his desire.
Yet he knew well that the Emperor's will could not be defied, and he understood even better what the threat—or rather, temptation—represented by that red colossus meant to the Imperium and to Mengsk himself.
He took a deep breath and downed the cold coffee in his cup in one gulp, the bitter liquid seeming to revive his spirits slightly.
He pulled up the dedicated encrypted communication protocol for Osiris.
Established after their cooperation on Char, this channel was primarily used for relatively formal Tech consultations and material coordination; the communication style had always been direct and efficient, matching both parties' positioning as "Tech collaborators."
However, the nature of today's call was clearly different.
Warfield weighed his words carefully.
He could not appear overly eager or sound too much like an interrogation; that would ruin the existing foundation of cooperation—at least before the Emperor decided to shed all pretenses, this line still held value.
Yet he had to complete his task of probing, digging out as much information as possible from Osiris while conveying the Imperium's "interest."
In the end, he settled on a relatively balanced opening.
Shortly after the communication request was sent, it was accepted. Osiris's holographic projection appeared before Warfield, with the background seemingly a corner of the Bridge of the Eternal Seeker, sleek and highly technological.
"General Warfield," Osiris's synthesized voice spoke first, calm and unruffled. "According to our scheduled communication cycle, there are still three days left. Do you have an urgent Tech coordination request?"
"Advisor Osiris." Warfield nodded slightly, forcing a polite, somewhat stiff smile onto his face. "It's not scheduled business, but there is indeed a... sudden matter that I need to consult you on, one that might involve a... new situation requiring attention from both of us."
"Please go ahead." The red light on Osiris's optical lens remained steady as he waited for him to continue.
Warfield cleared his throat and delivered his rehearsed speech: "It's regarding the incident on Crest IV. While reviewing this malicious attack, the Imperial military noticed that the attackers deployed an... unprecedented super-heavy ground combat unit.
Its demonstrated defensive and offensive capabilities completely exceeded our existing tactical databases and threat assessment models."
He deliberately used defining terms like "attackers" and "malicious attack," carefully observing Osiris's Reflexes.
Osiris's mechanical chassis showed no subtle shift in movement, his synthesized voice remaining steady: "I have already grasped the general outline of the incident on Crest IV. The Imperium's losses are regrettable. Does the'super-heavy unit' the general mentioned refer to that red humanoid mecha?"
He named the target directly with an open attitude, leaving Warfield's prepared roundabout rhetoric without any purchase.
Warfield steadied himself and proceeded according to plan: "Precisely. Given the extreme threat demonstrated by that unit, the Imperium's military wishes to discuss 'possible tactical approaches for dealing with such units.' At the same time—"
He paused slightly, emphasizing his tone, "The Imperium holds immense interest in the core Tech utilized by that unit—especially its incredible defensive system.
We believe that if such Tech could be applied to the Imperium's defensive framework, it would greatly enhance humanity's survivability when facing various threats.
I wonder if Advisor Osiris, and the Far Star Union you represent, have any intention or possibility of cooperation regarding this?"
These words were high-sounding, packaging the Imperium's greed as a contribution to the defense of all mankind.
Osiris fell silent for a moment, his crimson optical lens seemingly adjusting its focus slightly as he stared directly at Warfield's holographic projection.
Just when Warfield thought the other party would brush him off with excuses such as 'Tech secrets' or 'needing to consult superiors,' Osiris spoke, answering remarkably bluntly: "That red mecha, designated 'EVA-01 Unit-01,' is indeed a cutting-edge Tech verification platform belonging to the Far Star Union.
It is operated and maintained by our senior Tech team. In this incident, at the urgent request of an affiliate of a former collaborator (Raynor), and for the purpose of testing its combat effectiveness in extreme environments, it participated in this tactical operation."
Warfield felt a jolt in his heart.
He had not expected Osiris to admit it so readily, with virtually no concealment.
'Tech verification platform,' 'testing effectiveness,' 'at the request of an affiliate of a former collaborator'—the information embedded in his words was intriguing.
This not only confirmed the ownership relation between the Far Star Union and the red colossus, but also characterized this intervention as an independent, testing-oriented commercial or Tech action, rather than a hostile action by the Far Star Union as a whole against the Imperium.
"Tech verification platform—" Warfield repeated, attempting to find an opening. "Advisor Osiris, forgive my frankness. During the campaign on Char, we fought side by side, facing the Queen of Blades and the main force of the Swarm.
Back then, your side did not deploy such a... decisive unit. If we had possessed such power at the time, the course of the campaign might have been entirely different."
This was a veiled inquiry: If you possessed such a formidable weapon, why wasn't it used before? Was it only recently acquired or deployed in combat?
Osiris's answer remained direct, yet adroitly sidestepped the specific timeline: "The development and testing cycle of the EVA series project is extensive, and deploying it in actual combat requires satisfying stringent environmental conditions and data collection objectives.
Char's environment and tactical requirements were not an ideal testing ground for it. Different weapons are suited for different scenarios.
Does the performance of the Eternal Seeker on Char not suffice to prove the extent of the support we provided at the time?"
He threw the question back, underscoring the value of their prior cooperation. Warfield was momentarily at a loss for words.
Indeed, the terrifying firepower of the Eternal Seeker on Char had been plain for all to see, and the Imperium had benefited from it.
He could not continue to dwell on this point; doing so would make the Imperium look insatiable and question the past sincerity of its partner.
Warfield swiftly adjusted his angle, pulling the focus back to what the Emperor cared about most: "Naturally, your side's support on Char was of critical importance. Precisely because we have a foundation of successful cooperation, the Imperium hopes all the more to engage in deeper exchanges with your side in the new Tech field that has emerged.
His Imperial Majesty himself pays close attention to this Tech, which has the potential to alter the landscape of ground warfare.
I wonder, Advisor Osiris, what are your thoughts on the possibility of Tech sharing or joint research and development? The Imperium is willing to provide generous resources and support for this."
He dangled an incentive, while also making it clear that this was the Emperor's will.
This time, Osiris's silence lasted slightly longer.
After several seconds, he replied slowly: "The core Tech of the EVA project involves the Far Star Union's highest level of intellectual property rights and security protocols. Direct sharing or joint research and development is not feasible under the current framework."
Warfield's heart sank. But Osiris's following words gave the matter a sudden turn.
"However," Osiris's synthesized voice remained steady, "based on our existing foundation of cooperation and the keen interest expressed by the Imperium, under certain specific conditions, conducting limited Tech consultations or exploring targeted subsystem defense solutions is not entirely out of the question."
"Specific conditions?" Warfield keenly seized on the phrase. The negotiations had entered a substantive phase.
The red light of Osiris's optical lens seemed to flicker slightly: "Tech exchange can be a mutually beneficial bridge. The Imperium is interested in EVA's Tech, while our side currently holds equally high interest in other information."
"Please elaborate," Warfield said in a low voice, already harboring a premonition in his heart.
"The whereabouts and current status of Jim Raynor, as well as the entire crew of the hyperion." Osiris stated the names outright. "They were merely bait on Crest IV, so where is their true location? How does the Imperium plan to handle them?
This information is of great significance for our side to assess the reliability and future risks of certain partners."
Just as expected! Warfield sighed inwardly.
Osiris had directly linked the Tech of the red colossus to intelligence on Raynor.
This was undeniably a clear hint of a trade: using intelligence on Raynor in exchange for an opportunity to dialogue regarding EVA Tech.
Warfield found the situation thorny.
Raynor's imprisonment was a top secret directly ordered by the Emperor; even Warfield had no authority to know the exact location, much less use it as a bargaining chip.
Yet this 'bridge' proposed by Osiris was currently the most likely avenue to break the deadlock and obtain Tech clues.
"Advisor Osiris, Raynor is a top-priority imperial felon, and the details of his detention are Imperium top secrets," Warfield chose a safe but formulaic response. "I have no authority to disclose such matters.
However, I can pass along your interest in this information.
Perhaps, at a higher level, communication regarding this could take place—"
He did not outright refuse, instead passing the buck to the 'higher level'—namely, the Emperor himself.
This preserved both the Imperium's dignity and its security protocols, while keeping the door open for possible subsequent secret deals.
"Very well." Osiris did not seem surprised by this answer. "Then further dialogue regarding EVA Technology can also proceed after the Imperium has a clear 'willingness to communicate' and a corresponding 'information Bridge' design.
The current cooperation framework can still be maintained, including the previously agreed-upon Tech consultation and material exchange."
He drew a clear line: until intelligence on Raynor was in place, EVA Technology was off the table. But other cooperation would continue as usual, leaving a way out and buffer room for both sides.
Warfield knew his probing today could go no further.
He had received partial confirmation (the red colossus belonged to Osiris), conveyed the Imperium's interest and the Emperor's attention, and also received Osiris's clear trading conditions.
As for anything more, the Emperor would have to make the decision.
"I understand." Warfield nodded, his expression returning to its usual sternness. "I will report the contents of today's exchange, as well as where your interests lie, in full.
Thank you for your frankness, Advisor Osiris. I look forward to our subsequent cooperation reaching deeper fields on the basis of mutual benefit."
"Reciprocation is the foundation of cooperation," Osiris said finally. "I await the Imperium's response."
The communication ended. Osiris's holographic image disappeared, leaving only Warfield alone in the communication room, with the endless starry sky outside the window.
He leaned back against the chair, let out a long breath, and felt a deep surge of exhaustion.
This conversation had no smoke or fire, yet it left him more mentally exhausted than commanding a fleet battle.
He was loyal to the Imperium, but he was also aware that the Emperor's greed for that red colossus, combined with Osiris's terrifyingly cold calculation and transactional mindset, might drag the Imperium into a game more complex and dangerous than facing the Swarm or the Protoss.
And he, Edmund Warfield, an old general who only wanted to defend territory and defeat clear enemies, was dragged right into the forefront of this game.
He picked up his communicator and began drafting an encrypted report to the Imperial Palace and Minister Valkyrie.
Every word needed careful consideration. He knew that after this report was submitted, the storm would truly begin to brew.
Meanwhile, in the Haven System, on the Eternal Seeker Bridge, Osiris's Main Body stood silently.
The contents of the communication with Warfield had been recorded and analyzed.
His Logic Core was evaluating the implications behind this probing: Mengsk's greed was confirmed and strong; the Imperium's desire for EVA Technology far exceeded expectations; Raynor's value as a bargaining chip had increased significantly; and the strict blockading of information about Raynor by the highest levels of the Imperium also proved his importance as bait or a strategic asset.
A failed rescue had instead made the weight of this crucial piece (Raynor) on the strategic scales much clearer.
Now, part of the pressure shifted to Mengsk's side: hold onto the secret and forfeit the opportunity to gain EVA Technology, or risk trading intelligence for the possibility of technical dialogue?
Regardless of Mengsk's choice, Osiris had already taken a more proactive stance.
He pulled up the star map, casting his gaze toward that chaotic Star System representing Dead Mans Port.
While official channels on Warfield's end were in play, the shadow channels over at Dead Mans Port also needed to advance in parallel.
The Spaceport of Dead Mans Port was forever permeated with a turbid stench—a mix of engine exhaust, cheap synthetic food, and untreated garbage.
Ships entering and leaving the port were a chaotic jumble of models and paint jobs: from civilian transport shuttles barely passing security checks to armed freighters obviously modified illegally, to vessels stripped of markings whose outlines still betrayed military pedigree.
Valerie chose a landing site located in District 17, near the harbor's outer edge.
The ships docked here were even more decrepit, and oversight was much looser.
She piloted an unremarkable light transport ship with its hull painted in a dusty industrial color scheme, its registration pointing to an obscure, small mining company in a fringe Star System.
Guided by a flickering signal on an uncertified frequency band, the transport ship slid into
a semi-open private dock.
The dock interior was dim, illuminated only by the cold glow of a few emergency lights, with the smell of motor oil and rusted metal floating in the air.
A few figures wearing filthy overalls but harboring unusually alert eyes lurked in the shadows, appearing to maintain equipment while vigilantly observing incoming ships.
Valerie carried no obvious arms, dressed in a simple, dark, comfortable outfit underneath an unassuming duster coat.
Her cybernetic eyes scanned the surrounding environment with barely perceptible movements, rapidly constructing a terrain map and threat assessment.
Dock structure, potential surveillance blind spots, positions and postures of the shadowed figures—data streams flowed silently in the background of her consciousness.
A burly man with a buzz cut and a hideous scar across his face walked over, wearing a greasy tank top with meaningless patterns tattooed on his thick arms.
"Mining exploration? There ain't no minerals for you to explore around here." His voice was raspy, laden with clear scrutiny.
"I'm looking for Mira." Valerie's voice was calm as she stated her target's name directly, retrieving a small data shard from her coat's inner pocket and handing it over.
The shard's casing was dark red, etched with a simple emblem—one of the tokens used by Mira Han's Mercenary group for external contacts, usually given only to a select few recognized parties.
The scarred man took the shard and slotted it into a portable reader on his wrist.
A few lines of verification code flashed across the screen; his expression softened slightly, though his vigilance remained.
"Wait here." He turned and walked toward a heavy metal door deep within the dock.
About five minutes later, the metal door slid open, and the scarred man gestured for Valerie to follow.
Behind the door was a descending corridor with even poorer lighting, lit only by widely spaced wall lamps flickering with unstable voltage.
At the end of the corridor was another door, guarded by two fully armed Mercenaries wearing modified CMC armor, their gazes sharp behind their helmet visors.
They carefully scanned Valerie's entire body, opening the door only after confirming she carried no heavy weaponry or hazardous goods.
Inside was a relatively spacious area that looked like an old warehouse converted into a Command Center and lounge.
The walls were covered with various star maps, weapon racks, and what appeared to be trophies—Xenos carapaces and damaged mechanical wreckage.
In the center of the room sat a massive metal workbench, scattered with Dataslates, weapon parts, and half-empty energy drink cans.
Mira Han leaned against the edge of the workbench.
Her signature flame-red short hair was slightly disheveled, and she wore a practical tactical vest and cargo pants, with a holster and tool pouch hanging at her waist.
Her face bore her customary expression—a mix of impatience and shrewd calculation—but upon seeing Valerie walk in alone, a hint of confusion crept into her look.\
"Valerie?" Mira straightened up and wiped the grease from her hands. She looked Valerie up and down with scrutiny rather than familiarity. "A commercial representative from the Far Star Union? I remember you. Raynor worked with you before."
Her tone was not particularly warm, carrying the cautious inquisitiveness typical of a Mercenary boss dealing with potential clients or unknown variables. "A rare guest. What brings you to this messy dump of mine? Got a new job for me? Or some other business?"
"There is an emergency that requires your intelligence network and... your help." Valerie walked up to the workbench, skipping pleasantries and getting straight to the point. "Jim Raynor and his hyperion were ambushed by Imperium Ghost Forces on the outskirts of Shakuras. The entire crew was captured."
The casual look on Mira's face vanished instantly, her brows furrowing. "Raynor? That old bastard Mengsk finally caught him? When did this happen?"
"About eleven days ago. Mengsk originally planned a public trial on Crest IV, setting a trap to lure in potential rescuers." Valerie pulled up an edited summary of the mission report that omitted core tactical details and projected it onto an empty space on the workbench. "We attempted a rescue, but it was a trap; Raynor himself was not on site. The mission failed, but we confirmed that the Imperium transferred him to an unknown secret location."
Mira skimmed the summary quickly. When she saw the heavy casualties among the Crest IV ground forces and the description of that 'red unit,' she whistled. "Quite a commotion you stirred up. But what does that have to do with me?
Raynor is a tough bastard, and I have some history with him, but it's only limited to sharing a few drinks and taking a few jobs. Storming an Imperium prison for him? That's way too risky. You'd have to pay more—and that depends on the price."
Valerie looked at her, the light in her cybernetic eye adjusting slightly. "Raynor was not the only one on the hyperion."
Mira froze. She slowly raised her head, locking her gaze onto Valerie. "Explain."
"Matt Horner was also on that ship," Valerie's voice remained steady. "He is the executive officer and was captured alongside Raynor."
A dull thud echoed from the edge of the workbench as Mira slammed her fist onto the metal surface. Her expression darkened visibly, and unmasked fury flared in her eyes.
"Mengsk... he took Matt?" Her voice was low, yet dripping with danger.
"Yes. The entire hyperion crew, including Matt, is currently unaccounted for. Their detention location is a top Imperium secret,"
Valerie confirmed.
Mira remained silent for a few seconds, her breathing growing slightly heavy.
She turned around, grabbed a half-empty beverage can from the workbench, tossed back a few gulps, then crushed it firmly and tossed it into the recycling chute in the corner.
"That nerd..." she muttered under her breath, a mix of anger and indeterminate emotion.
The betrothal won in a card game between her and Matt Horner was no secret in Dead Mans Port and certain circles.
Mira Han never hid the fact that she valued promises—even if that promise began with a ridiculous gamble.
She had publicly stated that she didn't mind fulfilling the engagement, and had even teased Matt over drinks about his uptight personality. This wasn't just a matter of saving face.
"You want to rescue them." Mira turned back around, her tone decisive, the previous aloofness completely gone.
"Yes. We need to find their detention facility," Valerie nodded. "The Imperium's official channels are under strict lockdown, out of reach for conventional intelligence networks.
The flow of intelligence in Dead Mans Port is unique. Some information can only be bought—or dug up—here."
Mira crossed her arms, pacing a couple of steps in front of the cluttered workbench.
"Matt is my fiancé," she emphasized the word, awkward though it sounded. "Mengsk laying a finger on him means laying a finger on my man. I'm seeing this through."
She stopped in her tracks and looked at Valerie. "What leads do you have? Don't tell me you know nothing other than that they're in the hands of the Imperium."
"We have a few angles." Valerie pulled up another set of data. "First, an escort and secret detention of this scale inevitably involves multiple supply chains—food, water, medical supplies, energy, holding cells, or restraint devices.
Even if procurement and transport of these supplies were kept discreet, they might still leave traces in Dead Mans Port. This place serves as a transit hub for many of the Imperium's black and gray market goods."
"Second, the escort fleet itself. Ghost Forces specialized vessels have distinct features, and they can't remain cloaked for the entire journey.
Long-distance journeys require resupply and maintenance, and they might even make brief layovers at certain 'friendly' or controlled neutral ports.
Smugglers, lookouts, and lane scouts in Dead Mans Port might have spotted unusual fleet movements."
"Lastly, personnel." Valerie paused. "The Imperium personnel involved in this clandestine detention operation—officers, guards, Tech personnel—can't all be completely isolated from the outside world.
They might have families, vices, debts, or simply the urge to boast or vent.
The bars, casinos, black-market doctors, and info-brokers of Dead Mans Port are natural breeding grounds for leaks."
Hearing this, Mira broke into a sharp grin that Valerie knew well—the look of someone gearing up for a big score.
"Supplies, ships, personnel... The scope is still a bit broad, but it beats groping in the dark. I can mobilize my contacts and lookouts." She walked over to a console on the side of the room and rapidly keyed in several commands. "However, Valerie, Dead Mans Port has its own rules.
Intelligence doesn't come free, especially for a sky-shattering matter like this.
My Mercenary group can help, but mobilizing men, greasing palms, and buying intel all take resources. What can you bring to the table?"
"The necessary operational funds, Tech support with cutting-edge surveillance and counter-reconnaissance gear, and..." Valerie looked at
Mira, "...if an operational plan is finalized, the armed support we can provide, including but not limited to limited coordination with the 'red unit' you saw in the report."
Mira's eyebrow arched.
"That thing... belongs to you? Alright, that's enough of a bargaining chip." She didn't seem as shocked or covetous of the EVA's existence as the Imperial forces were, treating it more as a powerful tool to be utilized. "Get the money and equipment in place as soon as possible. I'll cast the net right away.
I'll start by checking a few big shots who specialize in peddling military supplies and shipping route intel, plus a few Fixer figures who have 'private dealings' with the Imperium's prison system."
She looked at Valerie, her gaze turning serious. "Don't just stand idle either. Dead Mans Port isn't the Eternal Seeker; there are eyes and ears everywhere here.
Follow me. I'll set you up with a safe house and get you an outfit that fits in around here. If you want to dig up intel, you have to blend in first."
Valerie's safehouse was located on the lower level of Dead Mans Port's main structure, a hidden space converted from an abandoned conduit maintenance passage.
It was not large, but fully functional, equipped with independent air circulation, basic life support, and a communications and data terminal provided by Mira that had been reinforced and encrypted multiple times.
The room had no windows, and its only exit was disguised as an inconspicuous pipe inspection door, requiring specific biometrics and a password sequence to open.
The "getup" Mira had procured for her was the standard attire of a resident in the lower level of Dead Mans Port: worn synthetic fiber overalls, a tactical vest with multiple utility pockets, a pair of sturdy engineering boots, and a cap with a brim that could be pulled down low.
A set of reliable yet old-model rail handguns and a high-frequency dagger were neatly hidden in a quick-draw holster beneath her clothing and inside her boot shaft.
Valerie made subtle adjustments to her appearance to make herself look ordinary, and her body language mimicked the slightly stiff habits typical of someone who engaged in physical labor or mechanical repair year-round.
"Remember, here, you are Lina, a freelance Mechanic from Tarsonis who crossed the local union and fled here to make a living. Good Tech, tight-lipped, only takes repair and modification jobs, and doesn't ask unnecessary questions," Mira instructed before leaving. "This identity has some basic background records that can withstand standard checks. I will arrange for you to occasionally pick up odd jobs at repair shops under my control as a cover."
"Your main task is to analyze the data I send back, cross-reference and deep-mine it, and spot any anomalies. Fieldwork and contacting intelligence sources will mainly be handled by me and my trusted core members."
Valerie nodded in understanding.
An efficient division of labor was necessary; as an outsider, even with a disguise, frequent contact with the core intelligence circle would easily arouse suspicion.
Mira's operations were swift and multi-layered.
The first group to be activated were low-level informants scattered across various areas of Dead Mans Port.
These people had diverse identities: bar servers, dock porters, black market vendors, lackeys on smuggling ships, and even workers at entertainment venues.
They didn't usually have direct contact with high-level intelligence, but through constant exposure, they could gather vast amounts of trivial, seemingly useless information—such as unusual unloading times for a ship, spending habits of a new face, or the drunk boastings and grumblings of a low-ranking Imperial officer.
This information was passed via encrypted shortwave transmissions or dead drops to several intelligence relay stations set up by Mira.
The second group put into action were core intelligence agents from Mira's Mercenary corps and Fixers with stable connections to several major info-brokers.
Their targets were clearer: recent abnormal material procurement lists from the Imperial military, especially the Ghost Forces or military police systems; sighting reports of fleets traveling to or from the Imperium's core Sector, but with secretive routes and transponders turned off; and any rumors regarding "high-level prisoner transfers" or "newly established secret prisons."
Undercurrents surged in Dead Mans Port's intelligence market as huge sums of money and covert promises began changing hands.
The third layer involved Mira personally stepping up to visit or "bump into" several influential bosses who possessed deep roots in Dead Mans Port and could even speak directly with certain powerful figures in the Imperium.
These meetings were usually held in more discreet locations, and the exchange of interests involved was far more complex, potentially including cover for future Mercenary contracts, transport channels for specific contraband, or even commitments to dirty jobs "inconvenient for official action."
Inside the safehouse, data streams refreshed continuously across the multiple screens in front of Valerie.
Mira's intelligence network was remarkably efficient; massive amounts of raw information flowed in like streams into a river, quickly categorized, cleaned, and preliminarily analyzed by her processing core.
Regarding material procurement, she pinpointed three suspicious orders.
One was a shipment of specialized components for high-intensity Psionic Energy suppression collars and restraint cages; the buyer was a shell company, but the final logistics trajectory pointed to a secret warehouse of the Imperium General Armament Bureau.
Another was a large-quantity order of long-shelf-life high-energy nutritional pastes and special medical packs; the destination was vague, but the dispatch frequency was steady, as if maintaining a prisoner population of fixed size.
The third consisted of replacement filter elements and catalysts for internal ecosystem maintenance systems of large ships, matching models used in certain modified Imperial transport ships capable of long-term detainment.
Shipping lane information was chaotic and voluminous.
She wrote filtering algorithms to focus on screening abnormal vessel signals near the main shipping routes between Shakuras and the Imperium core Sector around the time of Raynor's capture.
Several vague sighting reports were flagged in red: a small fleet consisting of three "Behemoth"-class transport ships and one "Valkyrie" frigate had briefly appeared near a remote navigation beacon without transmitting identification codes, and there appeared to be a low-slung ship in the fleet matching the characteristics of a Ghost Forces fast assault craft.
An illegal sensor array near the beacon recorded faint engine signatures that had a 60% match with an experimental model of a new Imperial transport ship.
Personnel intelligence was the most scattered, yet it also concealed crucial clues.
A piece of information from a casino dealer mentioned that about two weeks prior, an Engineer who claimed to work in the "New Folsom" prison system complained after losing a large sum of money that he had been temporarily reassigned to a "damn long-haul assignment," going to a place "in the middle of nowhere that isn't even bothered to be marked on star maps" to maintain the life support system of some "high-level containment facility," grumbling that "there wasn't even decent entertainment, and the pay bonus wasn't enough."
Another piece of information came from a black market doctor specializing in underground medical services for Dead Mans Port. He mentioned recently treating several injured Imperial soldiers whose wound characteristics resembled close-range explosive shrapnel or energy burns; while semi-conscious, the soldiers muttered phrases like "guarding high-value convicts" and "ambushed during transfer."
Valerie continuously fed these fragmented pieces of information into her analytical model, attempting to construct potential transport routes and detention locations.
Combining multiple parameters such as the Imperium's Sector maps, known military facilities and secret base locations, shipping density, and logistical resupply difficulty, the model began generating several high-probability candidate regions.
Three days later, Mira returned to the safehouse, her eyes bloodshot but her spirits high.
"Got the solid stuff," she said, inserting a data shard into the terminal. "An Old Pal under me used to work in the Imperium logistics department before fleeing here over accounting issues.
Through his old personal connections, he bypassed official records and uncovered something."
The data inside the shard was decrypted and expanded.
It was an incomplete, informal copy of a material requisition list dated four days after Raynor's capture.
The items on the list included: heavy environment control system components (suitable for extreme climates or deep underground environments), large circulating water purification modules, and a batch of special building materials labeled "Level 7 Telepathic Shielding Material."
The receiving unit codename was "Hyena Nest," and the transfer destination was a Star System named "Sela II."