The Shattered Obelisk ⬆️

Arrival at Valkyrie Station

In the perpetual twilight of Valkyrie Station's Beta Bay 27, the Silent Fury settled into its berth like a predator coming to rest. The ship's systems powered down with a dying whisper, leaving only the essential systems humming beneath its scarred hull.

Through the bay's armored viewport, the intimidating sweep of automated defense platforms tracks incoming traffic with mechanical precision. Inside, the docking bay's 0.7G artificial gravity creates the familiar light-step sensation common to Brynhildr Ring, where efficiency matters more than earthbound comfort.

In the curved observation booth overlooking Customs Processing Station 27-B, Senior Inspector Malik Durant rolled a well-worn stimulant patch between calloused fingers. Above him, information feeds scroll across massive displays: manufacturing quotas, market indices, and security advisories painting a portrait of station life in luminous data.

Thirty years of watching humanity's dregs flow through Valkyrie's ports had taught him to trust the crawling sensation at the base of his skull. Right now, that sensation was screaming.

The man who caught Durant's attention moved like oil through water, his dark, practical clothing making him nearly invisible against the shadows cast by the station's industrial lighting. The worn leather jacket and utility belt spoke of a life lived in the void, but it was his eyes that set off every warning bell in Durant's veteran instincts – they were the eyes of someone who had seen the darkness between the stars and learned to call it home.

Whisper, the ethereal companion that only Kaelen (for that was the man's name) could perceive, flickered at the edges of his consciousness like a dying star. The sprite's presence was a cold comfort in the sterile, over-processed air of the station, its otherworldly awareness detecting the weight of hidden surveillance systems and the subtle shift of security drone patterns overhead.

At the processing station, Durant studied the offered data slate, its surface gleaming with encrypted data that seemed to shift and change under his gaze. The records were perfect – too perfect. Like a void-sealed hull with no signs of wear, their very flawlessness marked them as suspect.

'Welcome to the station,' Durant said, each word measured and heavy with unspoken suspicion. 'Proceed to customs.' The standard phrase felt like ash in his mouth.

Kaelen Vashti moved through the security checkpoint with measured steps, Whisper's ethereal form casting no shadow in the harsh industrial lighting. The sprite's warning came as a cold whisper in his mind: they were being watched. Not just by Durant – whose eyes Kaelen could feel boring into his back – but by others, hidden in the station's labyrinthine security systems.

The message from Valera Thorne burned in his secure comm like a frozen ember: coordinates for a meeting in the depths of Freyja Ring's market warren, where the station's tens of thousands of souls traded in everything from stolen ship parts to forbidden data. The information she offered would set him up for life – assuming he lived long enough to collect.

Around him, Valkyrie Station's massive form hummed with dark energy. Manufacturing drones zipped through maintenance tunnels like blood cells through veins, while the encrypted chatter of information brokers filled the encrypted channels. In the distance, the massive factories of Sigrún Core pounded out their industrial hymn, their production quotas scrolling across overhead displays in crimson digits.

Through it all, Whisper remained a constant presence, its otherworldly senses attuned to the currents of danger that flowed through the station's crowded corridors. The sprite's warning was clear: in the shadowed halls of Valkyrie Station, where information flowed like currency and secrets killed as surely as a blade, they would find no safe harbor.

As Kaelen made his way toward the transit hub that would take him to Freyja Ring, the station's defense grid continued its eternal vigilance. Somewhere in the vast machinery of Valkyrie Station, automated systems logged his presence, threat assessment algorithms ran their calculations, and unseen watchers made notes in encrypted files.

The station's old saying echoed in his mind: 'Credit talks, but information whispers.' In the darkness between the stars, Kaelen Vashti had learned to listen to those whispers. Now, with Whisper's cold presence at his side and Durant's suspicious gaze at his back, he moved deeper into the mechanical heart of Valkyrie Station, where ancient technologies and darker secrets awaited.

➡️Kaelen tries to contact Valera