Chapter 29: The Viper Syndicate's Mistake

The grease-stained tavern at Outpost 79 smelled like cheap synthetic whiskey, burnt cordite, and terrible life choices.

Valerie slammed four heavy glass mugs of amber liquid onto the scarred wooden table, sending a splash over Toby’s hastily rigged portable radar unit.

"To surviving another day in this colossal shithole," Valerie cheered, raising her glass. "And to whatever black-market illegal roids you bastards are taking, because no way in hell is an F-rank Guide tearing off a Tier-4 Void Stalker’s jaw with her bare hands."

"Hey! It's pure genetic perfection and zero sleep, thank you very much," Phoenix cackled, kicking her boots up onto an empty chair and taking a massive gulp. She winced as the liquid burned its way down her throat. "Jesus Christ, Valerie. Is this fuel or whiskey? It tastes like a battery leaked into a gutter."

"It's seventy percent grain alcohol and thirty percent jet engine solvent," Valerie smirked, taking a long swig without flinching. "Keeps the Abyssal parasites from breeding in your liver. Plus, it’s the only thing that makes listening to the Board's radio updates tolerable."

Across the table, Killian sat stiffly, his massive shoulders almost touching Phoenix’s arm. He was sipping his alcohol with absolute, stoic military discipline, though his eyes never left Phoenix for more than two seconds.

Valerie leaned back, resting her chin in her palm as her sharp emerald eyes darted between Phoenix and Killian. A wicked, wolfish grin spread across her face.

"So, Grand Commander," Valerie drawled, raising an eyebrow at Killian. "I see you brought your own personal mountain along. Does the giant tank come with the job, or do you two spend all your off-duty hours doing... extra-curricular conditioning?"

Pfft!

Toby instantly sprayed a mouthful of whiskey all over his radar screen, coughing violently. "Oh god, don't ask her that!"

Killian froze mid-sip, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep, radiant crimson that burned all the way to his collar. He nearly crushed the glass mug in his grip. "I am her loyal vanguard! We are completely professional!"

"Right, professional," Valerie snickered, winking at Phoenix. "Honest to god, sweetie, if I had an SS-rank brick house staring at me like I was the last steak on earth, I wouldn't be doing much talking."

"Don't tease the silver boy, Valerie," Phoenix smirked, reaching over to pat Killian's burning cheek, causing the giant man to choke on his own air. "He gets flustered if you talk about anything below the belt. Besides, we've got bigger fish to fry."

Phoenix leaned forward, her dark eyes instantly sharpening into lethal focus as the room's atmosphere shifted from tavern banter to tactical execution.

"Toby, report."

Toby wiped his radar screen with his sleeve, tapping a glowing holographic display into life on the sticky table. "While you guys were drinking battery acid, I hacked into the outpost's sub-space sensors. Sterling didn't just send us here hoping beasts would eat us. He hired the Viper Syndicate—a rogue mercenary group operating out of the abandoned iron mines three miles north."

"Viper Syndicate?" Valerie scoffed, her eyes darkening. "Those scumbags have been ambushing our supply lines for months. The leader is an S-rank Executioner named Malakor."

"Well, Malakor just received a five-million-credit transfer from an encrypted Academy account," Toby grinned, adjusting his goggles. "And his heavy artillery is currently tracking right toward our perimeter."

BOOM!

The entire tavern violently lurched as an artillery shell hit the outer compound wall, shattering every glass bottle behind the bar and rattling the floorboards. Alarms wailed outside as panicked screaming erupted in the streets.

"Speak of the devil," Phoenix laughed, finishing her whiskey in one shot and slamming the mug down so hard it cracked the wood. "Malakor's knocking!"

Valerie snatched her sniper rifle off the wall, racking a high-explosive round into the chamber with a lethal click. "That prick just ruined my favorite drinking hour."

"Killian! Toby! Valerie!" Phoenix barked, her crimson dragon energy surging to life around her like a halo of blood. "Let's go show the Viper Syndicate what happens when you interrupt a lady's night out!"

They burst out of the tavern doors into a warzone.

Three armored siege vehicles belonging to the Viper Syndicate were parked on the ridge above the crater, firing high-yield plasma mortar shells directly into the base. Dozens of heavily armed mercenaries were scaling the breached perimeter fences, shooting anything that moved.

At the center of the ridge stood Malakor—a hulking, cyborg S-rank mercenary wielding twin plasma chainsaws, laughing hysterically into the smoke. "Bring out the F-rank bitch! Sterling wants her head on a spike!"

"You want my head, chrome-dome?!" Phoenix’s voice roared through the explosion smoke.

She didn't run. She didn't cover.

Phoenix detonated off the ground with an SSS-rank shockwave, leaving a crater in the street as she shot straight into the sky like a crimson missile, rocketing directly toward Malakor’s ridge.

Malakor’s jaw dropped as he looked up. "What the fucking hell is that—"

Phoenix landed on his heavy siege vehicle like a falling meteor, the crushing kinetic force instantly flattening the ten-ton tank into a pancake of twisted metal.

She stood in the blazing fire, her dark eyes burning with pure, unbridled dragon rage, her spear humming with absolute destruction.

"Squad Outcast!" Phoenix screamed over the roar of the flames, a predatory grin splitting her face. "Leave none of these bastards alive!"