The archive station hung in silent orbit around a shattered moon, its ring of relays dark except for one pulsing beacon. The Wraith docked with a hiss of vented atmosphere, and Julius Reyes and Captain Brinley stepped into an airlock bathed in pale blue light.
"Station logs say this place stored classified data cores," Brinley murmured as they crossed the corridor, plasma rifles drawn. "No civilian ships ever came here."
Echelon's voice rippled in Julius's mind. "Environmental systems nominal. Neural sync stable. Relay core lies two decks below—coordinates locked."
They rode a descending lift laden with cables that throbbed like veins. Every panel bore symbiotic glyphs, but here they were etched in silver against the dark hull—older, more intricate than anything on Delta IV. Brinley checked her scanner. "Life signs: zero. But power reading's spiking."
The doors opened into a vast circular chamber. At its center, a crystalline core floated inside an energy cage—its geometry alien and impossibly complex. Around the rim, dozens of console pylons curved inward, each displaying fragments of data in a ghostly script.
"That's the relay core," Julius said, approaching reverently. He felt a familiar tug in his chest—an echo of Vorr's summons, a whisper of unity that set his teeth on edge.
Brinley tapped the nearest console. "Translating… part historical logs, part security files. They guarded secondary symbiote archives here."
"A secondary vault," Julius breathed. "The next piece of Echelon's origin story."
He reached out to interface, but before his fingers touched the console, a dozen sentinel drones emerged from alcoves in the walls—sleek, blade-tipped machines with red optical sensors. They advanced in perfect formation.
"Hostiles," Echelon warned. "Escort drones—programmed to eliminate unauthorized access."
Julius drew both plasma blades. "Let's see if they still fear the hunter."
The first drone leapt forward; Julius met it with a spinning strike that severed its blade arm. Sparks cascaded as the mech collapsed. Another charged Brinley; she dropped to a knee and fired a focused burst that shredded its sensor array.
But the drones adapted quickly. Their chassis shifted, plating reconfiguring mid-fight. One severed Julius's left blade with a blade-whip, forcing him onto one knee.
"Echelon—overload shields!" Julius roared. A shimmering dome blossomed around him, deflecting the drone's next volley. He surged forward, fists glowing with nanite energy, and battered the machine until it imploded.
"Two remaining," Brinley called, backing toward the core. "We need to secure the data and leave."
Julius nodded, slicing into the second drone's midsection. It rebooted in fragments—its optical eye reconstituting on a spare chassis above the consoles. It fired a tracer bolt that struck the energy cage. The core shuddered, circuits sparking.
"Don't let it breach containment!" Julius shouted. He dashed across the chamber, plunging both blades into the drone's chassis and crushing its central node. The drone fell; the bolt fizzled harmlessly.
Brinley rushed to the core console. "I've got it—downloading archives now."
A low hum filled the room as the crystalline relay core rotated, casting prismatic light over their faces. Streams of holographic data flooded the chamber: ancestral protocols, schematics for X-series suits, last wills of Archaium scientists who sacrificed themselves to lock away Vorr's brethren.
Julius watched, heart pounding. Each fragment wove a tapestry of origin—and a map of hidden vaults across the galaxy.
"Download complete," Brinley said. "We need to go—now."
Warning: Echelon's voice cut in, urgent. "External sensors: multiple contacts—massive ship emerging from the station's shadow."
They raced back to the lift as alarms blared. Through the viewport, a colossal Hive dreadnought drifted into view, its hull alive with pulsing biomass. Vorr's signal pulsed from its core.
"Of course he'd be here," Julius muttered. "He's using this station as a staging ground."
The lift doors slid shut. As it ascended, the dreadnought unleashed a volley of tendril-like energy that tore through the lower station. Explosions bloomed beneath them.
Julius gripped the handrail. "We can't outrun that."
Brinley met his gaze, fierce. "We'll have to give it a hell of a chase."
Above them, the docking bay doors opened onto the Wraith's lone fighter. The twin engines flared as they prepared for one last escape.
Julius drew a steady breath. "Punch it."
The Wraith soared free, weaving through the station's collapsing framework. Behind them, the relay core imploded in a supernova of holographic data, its secrets unleashed to Julius and the suit that had saved him.
As they dove into the void, Julius's HUD pulsed with new waypoints—vaults and strongholds he had never known.
And somewhere out there, Vorr's dreadnought loomed, ready to reclaim its hive.
Julius Reyes settled into the pilot's seat. "Let's go rewrite history."