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chapter 1
[Ω] Planet: Luynus, Imperial Controlled Space
[Ω] Locality: Snoria City slums, the Snoria Bazaar
[Ω] Time: Early Evening

The Snoria Bazaar bustled and undulated like a living, breathing beast. Hundreds of thousands milled through the mismatched aisles and shoddy shops of the largest open-air market outside of the Solar System. Ringed by the towering colony apartments that enveloped the bazaar like the walls of a valley, the binary stars that gave the planet Luynus its life were just now disappearing behind the horizon. 

Everything was for sale here. From rare antiquities, smuggled cybernetics, and stolen military hardware, to the rampantly popular drug meeror, slaves, and holovids of the now dead Earth—nothing was out of the realm of possibility in the bazaar. 

An orchestra of dialects could be heard rising up in the heat from the worn metal and evercrete, mixing into the putrid cloud of feral humanity that hung above the place like a miasma. The intricate intonations of Javi, the language of the nobility, could even be discerned amidst it all. The wares of the bazaar were too enticing even for the high born. Especially the meeror. 

One thing the bazaar did lack was law enforcement. Or, at any rate, sanctioned law enforcement. Snorian and Imperial Police did not even venture within the confines of the bazaar, and no calls for service ever originated from within. Ever. The bazaar was a haven within the Empire; a place where the laws of the Emperor held no sway, and no bearing. The gangs ruled here, and crooked capitalism was their only commandment. Yet, the wolves of the 7-5 cared not at all for the will of organized crime. They had come to the bazaar to hunt their prey, and no false kings would stand in their way. 

Leaning with his back against the side of a noodle stand, Captain Anson Hogh blew across the steaming paper bowl of synthetically spiced noodles he cupped lovingly in his hands. He appeared totally disinterested with the shuffling patrons that milled past him, and gave every indication that he cared nothing at all about anything, save for the cheap food beneath his nose. 

The 7-5 team leader was dressed in a faded black, hooded half-robe, which was secured at his waste by a cheaply woven Snorian sash. His legs were covered with patched red denim, and his boots clasped to just below his knees. On his head he wore nothing but his naturally mussed hair, and the traditional crimson Omega tattoo on his forehead that was the hallmark of most male Snorian natives. 

Beneath his disguise was hidden a full suit of skintight light body armor, an O-blade knife at the small of his back, and a compact submachine gun was tucked into the folds of his robe. Like most of the 7-5 today, he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Flashing before his mind’s eye, Anson watched the birds-eye view of the bazaar provided from the Operational Support Satellite (OSS), that was flying in a geosynchronous orbit miles above the planet. Thanks to the internal processors of his implants, the satellite feed mixed seamlessly with the image provided by his own eyes, allowing Anson to monitor his surroundings, while still being aware of the OSS’s progress. 

It was just shy of a month since Earthfall. The armed forces of the Empire were flung across the Orion Arm, even now battling for the total extermination of the Nym Republic. Vast space battles, containing thousands upon thousands of capital ships, YETI’s, and marines, were locked into pitched combat with the stakes of all of humanity resting in the balance. But here on Luynus, deep within Imperial space, that war was far away. A very different war was being waged her.

Intelligence had been gleaned by the OII (Office of Imperial Intelligence) that the counterfeit security chips used by Red Oath to gain access to Earth’s missile defense mainframe had come from within the Snoria Bazaar. It was as yet unknown how anyone in the bazaar had procured such high-security tech, or from where exactly in the vast marketplace Red Oath had purchased it. However, what was known, or was at least posited by the intel geeks at OII, was that such unique tech probably still remained somewhere for sale. 

The security chips were inimitable; no other device in the galaxy used the same combination of software and hardware. This uniqueness made it infinitely hard to replicate—or so everyone in the Empire had thought—but it also provided the 7-5 with an opportunity. With the right program, the security chips could be pinged, just like almost every other device and implant in existence.

Once this wrinkle had been discovered, OII had provided the 7-5 with the algorithm to geolocate the security chips. It had taken the CAG unit only ten hours to become operational on Luynus, having caught their first break in the hunt for Red Oath. Anson and the rest of the 7-5 had come to the planet covertly, traveling under false names on various civilian transports. The tiny OSS satellite had come along with them as nothing more than a suitcase-sized stowaway on the side of one of these transports, and had immediately detached after passing through the Titan Gate. It was the OSS that was currently pinging for any remaining security chips with its powerful sensor package. 

Anson was skeptical about the efficacy of the plan. If it was him who had sold the chips to Red Oath, there would be no trace of the incriminating devices—no matter what the possible profit. Humanity’s homeworld had been eradicated, and the lynchpin had been the access to the mainframe. It would take a fool of grand proportion to not recognize the danger continuing to possess such tech posed in the aftermath. It was the 7-5’s only possible break though, and it would have been equally foolish to not pursue it.

As the OSS continued to scan the bazaar, Anson decided to take stock once again of his team. Instantly accessing his communication system with the same brainpower required to blink, Anson sent a heavily encrypted thought message to the whole of the 7-5. To each of the recipients, they would “hear” Anson’s words as if he had spoken them directly into their ears.

<Status check. All operators, update location and readiness.>

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