Chapter 35: Sterling’s Nightmare

By dawn, Outpost 79’s underground garage looked like an illegal military arms fair on steroids.

Toby and Soren were high on energy drinks, cackling like mad scientists while welding experimental plasma cannons directly onto the assault transport. Jax was lounging on an anti-matter missile crate, casually eating cold noodles with a bayonet, while Valerie fine-tuned her sniper scope to punch through heavy mech armor.

At the center of it all stood Phoenix, admiring their shiny new toy: a heavily reinforced, star-iron-plated war rig complete with dual rocket pods and a high-frequency battering ram.

"She's gorgeous," Phoenix sighed, wiping a spot of engine grease off her cheek. "I’m naming her Sterling’s Nightmare."

"I still think we should have mounted the extra flamethrower on the bumper," Jax called out, chewing loudly. "Nothing says 'good morning' like third-degree burns."

"We need the bumper clear for ramming, Jax," Valerie countered, taking a swig of cold coffee. "And speaking of ramming, where’s your giant shadow, Phoenix? Usually, he’s attached to your hip like an SS-rank golden retriever."

"Checking the perimeter sensors," Phoenix chuckled, turning toward the armory doors just in time to see Killian walk in.

He had ditched his dented Academy armor for custom star-iron plate gear from the vault. The dark, polished metal fit his broad six-foot-four frame like a glove, hugging his broad chest and massive shoulders so tight it should have been illegal. He was strapping a huge dagger to his thigh, his muscular forearms flexing with every move.

Phoenix let out a low, appreciative wolf-whistles. "Damn, big boy. Look at you. You look like you're ready to start an apocalypse or join a metal band."

Killian froze instantly, his hand tightening around the strap as his neck flushed a brilliant, furious pink. "Boss! I... I was merely ensuring the armor fitted properly for high-intensity combat—"

"Oh, it fits," Phoenix purred, walking right up to him and slapping his armor-plated chest with a heavy CLANG. "Fits real nice. Keep looking like that and Sterling’s guards might faint before we even start shooting."

Killian’s jaw twitched, his stormy blue eyes dropping to her lips before he hastily cleared his throat, staring fixedly at the ceiling like his life depended on it. "I am ready for your command, Boss."

"Good, because it's time for our grand delivery," Phoenix grinned, her dark eyes flashing with crimson dragon light.

Soren slapped a button on his wrist console, bridging a live, unhackable quantum feed directly into the Academy Board’s high-security communications network.

On the main holoscreen above the workbench, Vice-Headmaster Sterling’s smug, wrinkled face flickered into view. He was sitting in his plush, air-conditioned office in the central Academy spire, sipping tea from a delicate porcelain cup.

"What is the meaning of this broadcast?!" Sterling barked, squinting at the screen. "Malakor? Is Sector Seven secured—"

Sterling stopped mid-sentence. His porcelain cup slipped out of his hand, shattering on his pristine mahogany desk as he finally recognized Phoenix standing in the center of the garage, surrounded by SSS-rank loot and Valerie's armed-to-the-teeth garrison.

"Hey, Sterling!" Phoenix waved cheerfully at the camera. "How’s the tea? Hope it’s good, because I'm currently standing in front of three tons of your Class A hit team’s scrap metal, five stolen cargo haulers, and a brand-new SSS-rank Sovereign Core that is currently making my skin glow like a rave."

Sterling’s face turned an ugly, mottled shade of purple. "You... you ungrateful, feral defect! You breached an unregistered Imperial Vault?! That property belongs to the Academy Board!"

"It belonged to the vault," Phoenix corrected, leaning into the camera with a lethal, razor-sharp smile. "Now it belongs to Squad Outcast. And in approximately twenty minutes, we’re driving this sixty-ton war rig through the front gates of your Sector Seven forward outpost."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sterling shrieked, slamming his fists on his desk. "I will have you stripped of your rank! I will have you executed for high treason!"

"You can try, old man," Phoenix purred, reaching up and grabbing the camera lens. "Bring every guard you've got. Make it interesting."

She crushed the communicator in her fist, cutting the feed into static.

"Alright, rejects!" Phoenix shouted, spinning around to face her squad as the garage doors groaned open, revealing the dusty horizon leading straight toward the Academy's Sector Seven fortress. "Mount up! We’ve got a Vice-Headmaster to humiliate!"

"HELL YEAH!" Jax roared, leaping into the gunner turret.

Killian stepped up beside Phoenix, racking his massive greatsword onto his back with a metallic click. A rare, dangerous smirk touched his lips. "Lead the way, Boss."