Chapter 66: Syndicate Factory

The jagged cliffs around the Syndicate factory cast long shadows as night fell over the arid landscape. Ethan guided the rented hover truck to a secluded ridge overlooking the facility. The factory's dull yellow lights glowed faintly in the distance, a stark contrast to the starry Kynaran sky above.

He stepped out of the vehicle and adjusted his gear, his plasma dagger secure at his side and his laser pistol holstered. Zyrix Korran, already perched with his plasma sniper rifle in hand, scanned the facility below through the enhanced scope.

"This is the place," Zyrix muttered, his voice steady. "Big, heavily guarded, and crawling with Syndicate patrols. Just as the intel said."

Behind them, the two elite E-Rank mercenaries disembarked. Thalor Veskra, a reptilian Velkarn alien with shimmering, scaled skin, stretched his long limbs, his dual plasma blades glinting in the dim light. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked toward the facility.

"It's tight, but not impenetrable," Thalor said, his voice a low rasp. "We can move through the blind spots between patrols if we're quick and careful."

Lysa Ardent, a human gadget specialist, adjusted the strap of her toolkit as she observed the compound through a small, handheld scanner. Her upbeat demeanor lightened the tense air. "Their security drones aren't running the most advanced algorithms. I can jam them temporarily if we need to."

"Good," Ethan said, stepping forward to address the group. "We're here to gather intel and disrupt their operations, not start a firefight. Zyrix will stay on overwatch, and the rest of us will split into two teams. Thalor and I will plant tracking devices on their shipments, and Lysa will handle the data extraction with Zyrix covering her."

The group nodded in agreement. Zyrix adjusted his rifle and focused back on the facility. "Move quietly. I'll pick off anyone who gets too close."

The team descended toward the facility, sticking to the rugged terrain for cover. Thalor led the way, his scales shifting to blend with the shadows. His movements were fluid and silent, his dual blades held loosely at his sides. Ethan followed close behind, keeping his laser pistol at the ready.

From their vantage point, the factory's layout became clearer. Guards patrolled in synchronized shifts, their paths intersecting with automated turrets and surveillance drones. The occasional hum of machinery echoed faintly in the still night air.

As they approached the outer perimeter, Thalor froze, raising a hand to signal a patrol ahead. Ethan crouched low as Thalor moved swiftly, his form blending into the shadows. A Syndicate guard barely had time to react before Thalor's plasma blade silently cut through the air, dropping him to the ground.

Thalor turned back, his slit-pupil eyes gleaming. "Clear."

Ethan stepped forward, crouching by the first shipment. The crates were stamped with Syndicate symbols, their contents secured under biometric locks. Pulling out a small tracking device, he carefully attached it to the underside of one crate.

Meanwhile, Zyrix's voice crackled softly through their comms. "Guard on your left, Walker. Moving toward your position."

Ethan spotted the guard and pressed against the crate for cover. A faint whine cut through the air, followed by a distant flash from the ridge. The guard dropped instantly.

"Thanks," Ethan whispered.

Elsewhere, Lysa worked with Zyrix's guidance to reach the communications relay near the factory's central hub. She knelt by the terminal, her toolkit spread out around her. A small, disk-shaped device emitted a faint hum as it bypassed the relay's firewalls.

"This is too easy," Lysa muttered, her fingers flying over her tablet's interface. "Syndicate security is supposed to be tough."

"They're confident in numbers and brute force," Zyrix replied through the comms, his calm voice tinged with caution. "Don't let your guard down."

Lysa smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Back near the loading docks, Ethan and Thalor moved toward another shipment. This time, the crates bore markings that made Ethan's heart skip. A Federation insignia, faint but unmistakable.

"Thalor," Ethan whispered, pointing to the markings.

The Velkarn mercenary hissed softly. "Federation. That complicates things."

"It means the Syndicate has powerful backers," Ethan said, attaching another tracker to the crate. "But we can't afford to engage here. Just get the devices planted and keep moving."

The sound of approaching footsteps made them freeze. Two guards rounded the corner, their weapons slung casually over their shoulders. Thalor pressed himself against the shadows, while Ethan adjusted his cloaking module, disappearing from view.

The guards paused near the crates, one muttering something inaudible. Before they could investigate further, Zyrix's sniper rifle hummed faintly. One guard dropped, and Thalor swiftly dispatched the other with his blade.

"Let's move," Ethan said, signaling toward their next target.

The team regrouped near the factory's edge, their objectives nearly complete. From their position, they saw workers. Kidnapped outpost civilians being forced to load crates onto transport vehicles. Many of them moved sluggishly, their bodies gaunt and battered.

Ethan clenched his fists, his anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. "This isn't just production. They're breaking people."

"We can't help them now," Zyrix's voice came through the comms, low and firm. "Focus on the mission."

Thalor's slit-pupil eyes narrowed. "He's right. One mistake, and they'll kill everyone here, including us."

Ethan exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. "Let's finish this."

As they prepared to retreat, a Syndicate drone whirred to life, locking onto their position. Lysa scrambled to jam its signal, her device emitting a sharp pulse of energy that temporarily disrupted the drone's targeting.

"Won't hold for long!" she shouted.

Ethan raised his laser pistol, firing a precise shot that sent the drone crashing to the ground. The noise drew the attention of a nearby patrol, but Thalor quickly dispatched the guards before an alarm could be raised.

"Time to go," Zyrix said, his tone urgent.

The team retraced their steps, sticking to the shadows as they made their way back to the ridge. The factory behind them remained unaware of the tracking devices planted on key shipments and the data Lysa had extracted from the relay.

As they reached the hover truck, Zyrix climbed down from his perch, his rifle slung over his shoulder. "Good work. We got what we came for."

Ethan nodded, glancing back at the factory. The sight of the enslaved workers lingered in his mind, fueling his resolve. "This is just the beginning. The Syndicate has to pay for this."

"They will," Thalor rasped, climbing into the truck. "But not tonight."

As the hover truck hummed to life and carried them away, Ethan sat silently, the weight of the mission pressing on him. The Federation-marked crates and the brutal conditions of the workers painted a grim picture, one that hinted at a deeper conspiracy.

He tightened his grip on the armrest, his resolve hardening. The Syndicate's reach might be vast, but with every mission, Ethan felt closer to cutting it down.