The Shadows of The Order
As the Spear of Sol and Arrowhead exited supercruise and settled into a smooth glide toward the Master Goose, Mosessith couldn’t help but let out an appreciative whistle. The carrier loomed large and imposing, emblazoned with the insignia of the Tzimisca Order, its sleek, feudal design contrasting sharply with the stark industrial settlements they were used to in Mebech. Brotherblaze was quieter, scanning the hull and the bridge structure with a careful eye. He wasn’t one to be easily impressed, but something about the sight of the carrier stirred an old itch of ambition in him.
"Never thought we’d find ourselves sitting across from someone with a touch of the old nobility in him," Mosessith grinned as they prepared to dock.
Brotherblaze gave a faint smirk, his attention still on the docking readouts. "Let’s hope they live up to it, then. We don’t have time for pomp without purpose."
The docking clamps secured their Anaconda and Krait Mk 2, and soon they found themselves greeted by MasterMaverick himself, a relaxed figure whose demeanor was as unpretentious as it was charismatic. MasterMaverick's voice had a slow, easy drawl to it, every word dragged out just enough to sound casually confident without bordering on laziness. It was clear he wasn’t intimidated by the sharp, calculating eyes of Brotherblaze nor by Mosessith’s keen curiosity. There was mutual respect in his casual nod, an acknowledgment of warriors who'd proven themselves countless times in the black.
"Welcome to the Master Goose," he said, his voice smooth with that telltale swag, "Now let's see if you Shadow Heaven boys are as good as they say."
Brotherblaze chuckled under his breath, amused by the easygoing demeanor. He didn't get that often back in Mebech, where every conversation with corporate leaders was weighted with veiled threats or hidden agendas. Maverick’s lack of pretense was refreshing—and potentially dangerous. Only a leader with confidence in his strength could afford to be this relaxed.
MasterMaverick led them to the bridge, where Sir Frederic Hooper awaited. Sir Frederic was a noble-looking figure, his bearing straight and stately, his eyes steely with the discipline of a seasoned tactician. He wasted no time diving into the business proposal, outlining a contract designed to strengthen the Order’s influence by cutting down the region’s rising pirate threats. Hooper’s words were formal, almost rehearsed, like he was presenting to a council rather than two mercenary brothers who specialized in chaos and covert ops. But as he spoke, Mosessith’s eyes gleamed at the mention of billions of credits in potential profits—a melody sweeter than any anthem of loyalty.
Brotherblaze, meanwhile, was studying Maverick. The man’s posture was easy, arms folded as he leaned back, watching the negotiations unfold with an expression somewhere between interest and amusement. He dragged his words lazily, but there was a sharpness in his gaze, a calculating mind masked by his easy demeanor. Brotherblaze understood in that moment: MasterMaverick was no mere figurehead. He was deliberate, powerful, and knew precisely when to let his guard down to put others at ease.
After an hour of intense negotiations, Brotherblaze finally extended his hand to seal the agreement, his gaze meeting Maverick’s with a silent acknowledgment of mutual respect. "Shadow Heaven will run with the Tzimisca Order for a while. Consider it a trial," he said. "We’ll let our work speak for itself."
Their business concluded, Mosessith wandered off to explore Wikegarak and its feudal culture, craving a break from the rigid structure of corporate life in Mebech. He found himself entertained by the customs, the pageantry, and the stark loyalty of the Order’s people. For a man who lived his life amidst harsh refinery lights and corporate orders, it was a refreshing shift.
Meanwhile, Brotherblaze threw himself into the work, leading his team through intense operations against the pirate factions in the region. He met Order members one by one—pilots and soldiers who spoke of MasterMaverick with admiration and loyalty, their confidence bolstered by the stability and purpose their leader had provided. For days, Shadow Heaven hunted pirates through asteroid belts and backwater systems, the distant explosions painting the skies over Wikegarak as they eliminated over a hundred pirate ships. When Brotherblaze saw the territory maps shift, watched the Order's influence expand, he knew they’d helped to shape the future here, just as they had in Mebech.
After completing his final contract, Brotherblaze left a generous gift of seventeen million credits among the Order's pilots. A small gesture, but one that solidified the respect Shadow Heaven had for their new allies. Before their departure, Baron Sang Dixon, a prominent figure in the Order, hailed Brotherblaze on the comms, addressing him as a friend to the feudal faction. It was a mark of respect Brotherblaze accepted with a reserved nod; in another time, in another life, he might have pursued the path of nobility himself. But his loyalties remained with Mebech and the shadows he knew.
When they finally returned to Mebech, Mosessith surprised Brotherblaze with his uncharacteristic relief to be back in the cold, corporate grind. "Not that I didn’t enjoy myself, but there’s something about the hard steel and honesty of Mebech. No frills, no flair. Just us and the darkness."
Brotherblaze grinned as he opened his commlink. He crafted a message with practiced efficiency, addressing it to the Order with a simple greeting: “To the Order, our friends across the Inner Orion Spur…”
After a moment's pause, he added, “If ever you find yourselves needing a hand in the dark again, know that Shadow Heaven is only a whisper away. We'll see the stars together, on our terms.”
With that, he closed the comm, nodding to Mosessith. It was time to resume their silent guardianship of Mebech, with a new understanding of their own power—and a newfound alliance stretching across the stars.
