The dying man in the commander's chair shifted, a movement that sent a fresh spasm of agony across his mangled features. The silver-white medical drone chirped a frantic warning, its stabilizers humming as it adjusted its position to compensate for his labored breathing.
"Then, sir," Vance said, his voice dropping into a low, steady register. "What is your purpose in bringing me here? Men in your position don't usually seek out common miners for a chat."
Yuan Shu struggled to an upright position, his right hand gripping the armrest so tightly the knuckles turned a ghostly white. "The Jin Clan's 'Heart-Piercing Dagger' is a masterpieces of cruelty. If I weren't an [Advanced-Tier] body-tempering practitioner, I would have died before the stimulants even touched my bloodstream. The blade doesn't just cut; it leaks a necrotic toxin that liquefies the heart from the inside out."
He coughed, a wet, metallic sound. "You understand the nature of the Jin. That is good. It saves us time. But I suggest you take your estimation of them and multiply it by ten thousand. They are more despicable, shameless, obscene, and perverted than any nightmare your mind can conjure. They are human garbage polished into the shape of nobility."
Vance nodded slowly, his expression one of somber respect. "I hear you, sir. Loud and clear."
Inwardly, Vance's mind was a whirlwind of tactical data. In his previous life, he had underestimated the sheer, obsessive tenacity of the Jin Clan. He had thought he could outrun them, that space was large enough to hide a single man. He had been wrong. This time, he wouldn't make the mistake of treating them like mere villains; they were a force of nature, a plague that required total eradication.
"I have to say, kid," Yuan Shu wheezed, his remaining eye fixed on Vance with a terrifying intensity. "Your performance is... unexpected."
"Unexpected, sir?"
"Most men your age, when faced with a dying commander and a warship appearing out of a spatial rift, would either be screaming or begging for their lives. But you? From the moment my tractor beams locked onto your rig, you've been clinical. You secured your vessel, you signaled surrender to prevent vaporization, and you stepped onto this bridge with the composure of a veteran diplomat. Even among the high-born scions of the Core Worlds, that kind of grit is rare."
Vance offered a shallow bow, the movement stiff but polite. "You overpraise me, sir. I'm just a man who knows when he's outgunned. I'm still curious, however—how did a ship of this displacement simply 'blink' into existence next to me? My scanners didn't even catch a gravitational ripple until you were on top of me."
Yuan Shu's lips twitched—a ghost of a smile. "My name is Yuan Shu. And this is my ship, the Tomahawk. She is a Fireseed Warship. Tell me, boy... what do they call you?"
"Vance," he replied, maintaining the bow. "It is an honor, Captain Yuan. So, the Tomahawk is a Fireseed vessel? Then that 'blink' was a localized Warp-Jump? A specialized shipborne module?"
Yuan Shu blinked, a look of genuine surprise crossing his battered face. "Vance... you know about Fireseed modules? That's more than a 'rare' bit of knowledge for a miner in a backwater like KQ-03. To even know the terminology suggests your ambitions are far greater than a cargo hold full of copper."
Vance crossed his arms, leaning back slightly against a flickering tactical console. He let out a slow sigh, his gaze drifting to the panoramic viewscreen where the jagged rocks of the asteroid belt tumbled in the dark.
"A Fireseed Warship," Vance murmured. "The pinnacle of human martial technology. The ultimate deterrent that allows the noble houses to hold their sectors with an iron fist. To own one... it's the dream of every boy who ever looked up at the stars and felt the weight of the dirt beneath his boots."
Yuan Shu barked a dry, rattling laugh that turned into a wheeze. "Then today is your lucky day, Vance. Because your dream is about to become a reality."
Vance's brow furrowed. He didn't let the excitement show; instead, he allowed a look of deep, suspicious confusion to take hold. "I don't follow, Captain. What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I am a dead man," Yuan Shu said, his voice regaining a sudden, eerie clarity. "There are only two of us on this ship. Before my heart finally gives out, I am going to initiate a Command Transfer. I am handing the keys of the Tomahawk to you. You will be her next Captain."
Vance let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "Captain Yuan... may I refuse?"
Yuan Shu's hand twitched, clearly confused by the rejection. "You would say no? To a Fireseed Warship? This vessel could buy your entire planet and still have enough credits left to commission a moon. Why in the void would you refuse?"
"Because I value my life," Vance said, his voice turning sharp. "I had a plan, Captain. I've been a miner for years, saving every credit. My goal was to leave the Bauhinia Kingdom, head to the Golden Sparrow Federation, and enroll in one of the High Academies. They have the most egalitarian advancement tracks for commoners. If I graduated at the top of my class, I might have earned an Academy-sponsored Fireseed vessel."
Vance shook his head, a look of feigned frustration on his face. "It was a twenty-year plan. It was slow, it was hard, but it was safe. Now, you're offering me a shortcut that skips those twenty years. It's a King's Ransom, and yes, it makes my blood boil with greed. But look at the context, sir! I have no background. I have no backing. I have no military training. And most importantly... I don't want the Jin Clan's target painted on my back before I've even learned how to calibrate the shields."
Yuan Shu remained silent. The logic was airtight.
In this galaxy, a Fireseed Warship wasn't just a ship; it was a "Strategic Asset." For a commoner like Vance to suddenly possess one was like a street urchin suddenly finding a nuclear launch briefcase. He wouldn't be celebrated; he would be hunted.
The "Qualification" to own such power was built on three pillars:
Capability: Are you a genius commander or an elite pilot?
Background: Do you belong to a Great House or a powerful political faction?
Influence: Do you have the wealth or the fleet to protect what is yours?
Vance had none of these. If he took the ship and returned to KQ-03, the local Governor would have him "disappeared" within the hour to claim the ship for the Baron. If he fled, the Jin Clan would track the Tomahawk's unique energy signature and vaporize him in the deep void.
"You're a miner who thinks like a Grand Duke," Yuan Shu whispered, his eye narrowing. "You see the hidden cost of the prize. Most would just see the gold and ignore the dragon guarding it."
"The dragon in this case is a 300-meter-long Jin Clan hunter-killer that is likely closing in on our position as we speak," Vance retorted. "So, I ask again, Captain: why me? Why drag a common miner into your blood feud?"
Yuan Shu's expression hardened. "Because I don't have a choice. And neither do you."
The dying commander reached out and tapped a command on his armrest. A holographic projection shimmered into life between them—a countdown timer, glowing in a violent, bloody red.
"The Jin are coming. And they don't leave witnesses. Whether you take the ship or stay on your mining rig, you are already a ghost. Your only choice now is whether you want to die on your knees in a pile of copper... or behind the helm of the most dangerous predator in this sector."
Vance stared at the timer. The trap had truly snapped shut.
"Fine," Vance said, his voice dropping into a cold, predatory whisper. "Tell me how to link with the Fireseed."