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Registered under a false transponder code, it was just holding form, its heat signature limping and power output heaving.

Then, like a blunt blade hacking through a veil, it emerged into real space just beyond the shattered ghost rig dock floating in Vessura’s orbital debris ring.

The place was a relic of another era. Once a bustling asteroid-harvest platform for The Accord, it was now little more than a skeletal graveyard of twisted gantries, broken ore spires, and decaying habitation pods.

Long since abandoned after the Great Exodus, it was now a crossroads for smuggled goods, disputed cargo, and silent assassinations.

The sort of rendezvous Xander leaned into.

Inside the cramped, shadow-lit belly ofThe Mantle’s Echo, the Signet strong guard lounged like wolves in a den, waiting for the signal to hunt their prey.

Xander stood by the forward ops panel, tapping his fingers in slow rhythm against his thigh as the monitors ticked the approach of their quarry.

‘Convoy within range,’ Miral announced, eyes glinting as she manipulated the overlapping scans.

‘About time,’ Kaal muttered, slouched on a bulkhead, legs spread and rifle across his lap. ‘I was starting to think they got wise.’

‘Never,’ Boaz rumbled. ‘They’re too greedy to nurture knowledge or patience.’

‘Which makes them predictable,’ Zev added, checking over a pulse charger with clinical calm. ‘And therefore, as easy as shooting fish in a barrel.’

Santiago cracked his knuckles. ‘Let’s make this quick. I’ve got a scorchin’ date tonight.’

That earned a snort from Kaal. ‘Has Santi gone soft for a girl?’

Xander didn’t turn from the console, but his voice cut in cool and dry. ‘He hasn’t, yet. He’s no longer wasting his energy flirting with you,el loco.’

Santiago grinned. ‘True that. He’s sore because we’ve agreed to keep it casual.’

‘I’m more than, I’m freakin’ wounded, lover.’ Kaal groaned and grabbed his heart in dramatic flair.

‘Fokk,cabrón.’ Santiago jested, slapping the back of his friend’s head. ‘Conquer your feels.’

Even Boaz grinned at that.

Next, they sent out a distress beacon, acting like a lame duck in space.

‘The procession is changing course to render assistance,’ Miral announced.

Xander huffed. ‘More like board, strip, and attempt to raid us like they have many distressed ships.’

‘On approach,’ Miral warned. ‘Their lead freighter’s captain just hailed our fake flare.’

‘Here we go,’ Xander murmured. ‘Confound them with some love.’

At his word, Zev punched in the embedded code. The hidden backdoor transmitter inThe Mantle’s Echo’s hull sent a pulse on an encrypted syndicate frequency. A moment later, a thrumming hum bloomed through the cabin.

Miral raised a chin to Xander. ‘They’re flailing. Their hyperdrive is glitching. Nav controls scrambling.’

‘Mine charges are ready,’ Boaz said. ‘We’re threading the needle.’

‘Fire.’ Xander’s command was almost soft.

Outside, a garland of electromagnetic mines along the hyperspace exit vector erupted in tight precision.

Blue spirals of implosion scattered across the convoy’s path, clipping engines and frying targeting systems.

The cartel escort ships, six in total, jerked out of subspace in a rain of panic flares and scrambled comms.