Chapter 235: Shadows Of Betrayal

Chapter 235: Shadows of Betrayal

While Tessa had taken off towards the wormhole with the Deri-Legu people, Gastro remained behind inside the Clover spaceship, a reluctant guardian in an ever-growing web of uncertainty. Five days had passed since Tessa left him. However, it had only been two days since she had officially departed the Zubo planet with the Deri-Legu. Two days remained before the week she spoke of would come to an end, and Gastro couldn't decide whether he should stay or leave when that time arrived.

His isolation was interrupted two days ago by the arrival of Rinliner Ao and his group. Their demeanor had shifted drastically. Where they were once hostile and aggressive, they now seemed reverent, almost deferential. Gastro found their sudden transformation odd, especially when they claimed that Tessa had tasked them with guarding the spaceship.

They took to their duty with such fervor that it almost seemed comical—as if their very lives depended on it. Little did Gastro know, they did.

Unbeknownst to Gastro, Rinliner Ao's previous schemes had crumbled in the face of Tessa's cunning. He had intended to manipulate both the Deri-Legu people and Tessa into a mutually destructive conflict, ensuring his own gain in the aftermath. But Tessa had seen through his duplicity. Instead of destroying him outright, she offered a different punishment: spare his life and the lives of his people, but only if they swore to guard the Clover spaceship.

For Rinliner Ao, it was a bitter pill to swallow, but the alternative was death. To his men, he framed it as loyalty, but in truth, their fervent guarding of the ship was born of desperation.

Inside the Clover spaceship, Gastro sat in the cockpit, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Tessa's departure weighed heavily on him. Why had she left him behind? What was her purpose on this strange, backwater planet? No matter how much he pondered, the pieces refused to fit together.

His brooding was interrupted by a noise outside—distant at first but growing louder. Voices echoed across the barren landscape, raised in anger. Soon, the shouts turned to scuffles, the distinct sound of fists colliding and energy weapons discharging in muffled bursts.

"What's going on now?" Gastro muttered, frustration lacing his voice. He leaned forward and pressed a button on the control panel, activating the external surveillance system. The holographic projection that materialized before him revealed a shocking scene.

A mercenary group was attacking Rinliner Ao's men, and Gastro immediately recognized the attackers. They were from the Clover Manufacturing Company—the very people who had sold him and Tessa the spaceship.

"What the hell?!" Gastro's voice rose in disbelief. "Why are they attacking us? We didn't steal the ship! We bought it fair and square!"

He watched as chaos unfolded outside. The mercenaries were relentless, moving with precision and purpose. Rinliner Ao's men, despite their fervent guarding, stood little chance. Silent bullets zipped through the air, taking down one after another.

Rinliner Ao himself stood at the center of the carnage, his pale face a mask of shock and fury. His mind raced, piecing together the betrayal. "She planned this," he muttered, his voice shaking with rage. "She knew this would happen. That conniving, two-faced, piece of—"

His words were cut short as a bullet pierced his skull. His body crumpled to the ground, his life extinguished in an instant.

Inside the spaceship, Gastro's heart thundered in his chest as he stared at the screen. He watched the aftermath of the carnage with growing unease. The mercenaries outside had decimated Rinliner Ao's men, their lifeless bodies strewn across the barren terrain. The mercenaries moved with the precision of seasoned hunters, their cold efficiency sending chills down Gastro's spine.

He gritted his teeth. The realization struck like a thunderclap—they were coming for him.

His fingers flew over the control panel, activating the spaceship's internal defense systems. The console hummed to life, and energy shields shimmered into existence, encasing the vessel in a protective cocoon. Automated turrets emerged from concealed compartments on the ship's exterior, their targeting systems locking onto the advancing mercenaries.

Gastro exhaled sharply, his features hardening with resolve. "If they want this ship, they'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."

The first volley of shots from the mercenaries struck the shields, sparking like fireworks against the energy barrier. The crackling echoes reverberated through the hull, a reminder of the stakes at play. Gastro's hand hovered over the weapons control, ready to unleash the full arsenal of the Clover spaceship.

"Tessa," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and hope. "Wherever you are, I hope you know what you're doing."

As Gastro braced for the inevitable onslaught, something unexpected happened. From the mercenary formation, a figure emerged—one that immediately sent a wave of recognition and dread coursing through Gastro.

It was Otopi.

The leader of the Clover spaceship manufacturing company stepped forward with an air of authority. His octopus-like beard swayed in the wind, its tentacle-like strands a stark reminder of his alien origins. He raised a hand, signaling his men to cease fire. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the spaceship's shields.

"If you're in there, come out," Otopi called, his voice amplified by a device strapped to his wrist. It was smooth and calculating, laced with a tone that suggested he believed he was offering a reasonable proposition.

Gastro's brow furrowed deeply as Otopi's voice filled the ship's cabin, every word dripping with smug authority. His gaze remained locked on the screen where Otopi paced, his octopus-like beard swaying with every deliberate step.

"There should be Gastro and Tessa in there, right?" Otopi asked, his tone deceptively casual. Gastro's fingers twitched at the mention of Tessa, but he gave no response.

Otopi smirked, as though the silence itself confirmed his suspicion. "We did sell you the ship," he continued, his hands clasped behind his back. He moved with an air of entitlement, as if the ground itself bent to his will. "But you're aware of how we do business, aren't you? Wherever our ships go, we're entitled to fifty percent of the spoils. That's our agreement—our custom. So be a good lad and come out. Share with us what you owe, and we'll be on our way. No need for further bloodshed."

Gastro's jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. His anger flared like a flame fed by dry wood, but he forced himself to stay composed. He slammed his fist onto the edge of the control panel, muttering under his breath, "Spoils? What spoils? There's nothing here but dust and death!"

Taking a steadying breath, Gastro leaned closer to the console microphone, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Listen, Otopi, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but there are no spoils here. We're stranded on a dead planet! You sold us this ship; we owe you nothing. So why don't you and your crew pack up and leave before this gets ugly?"

Otopi's response was a low, sinister chuckle, devoid of humor. The sound crawled under Gastro's skin, setting his nerves on edge. "Oh, Gastro, always so fiery. But you misunderstand. This isn't a negotiation. This is a collection. If there's truly nothing of value here, then why are you so keen to stay hidden inside that ship? Come out, and we'll talk face-to-face like civilized beings."

Gastro gritted his teeth, his mind racing through possibilities. He couldn't afford to let Otopi and his mercenaries get inside. The Clover spaceship wasn't just their escape route; it was a vessel of immense power—and secrets. Whatever Tessa had planned for it, he had to ensure it remained in their hands.