The neon glow of Valeris City pulsed outside, casting streaks of colored light across the rain-speckled windows of Nara's Nest. Inside, the cantina was a world apart from the sprawling metropolis. A refuge of warm lighting, clinking glasses, and the hum of conversation from mercenaries, traders, and wanderers alike.
Ethan sat in a booth near the back, his hands wrapped around a warm metal cup. Steam curled from the surface of the spiced Qorath tea, its rich, earthy scent mingling with the sizzling aroma of freshly grilled meat. The place was busy, but the presence of Nara, her laughter, the confident way she moved between tables made it feel more like a home than a business.
He smirked to himself, idly tapping his fingers against the table. For a city in a forgotten sector of the Orion Federation, Valeris still looks better than Tokyo ever did. The thought made him chuckle under his breath. Valeris, despite its history of underdevelopment and war, was alive in a way Earth never was.
And somehow, in all the chaos, this little cantina had become his anchor.
A steaming plate clattered onto his table, interrupting his thoughts.
"You're thinking too much again," Nara teased as she slid into the seat across from him.
Ethan smirked. "Is that a crime now?"
"Depends," she said, pouring herself a drink. "If it means you're worrying about something stupid, then yes."
He exhaled through his nose, amused but knowing she wasn't far from the truth. His gaze drifted down to the food before him. A hearty bowl of roasted Syronian root stew, thick and fragrant with hints of saffron and citrus. Beside it, seared Drellek strips, the outer layer caramelized to perfection, still sizzling on the plate.
Nara watched as he picked up a piece, savoring the way the juices melted over his tongue. "Well?" she asked expectantly.
Ethan nodded in approval. "Still the best damn cook on Kynara."
"Damn right," she said with a grin, taking a sip of her drink.
As they ate, their conversation drifted toward the changing tides in Valeris.
"With the Syndicate gone, you'd think things would feel safer," Nara said, twirling her spoon through her stew. "But now that Ashen Prime is stepping in, it feels... different. Not worse, just uncertain."
Ethan nodded, chewing thoughtfully. Ashen Prime, the entity that had moved in after the Syndicate's collapse, was already reshaping the city's infrastructure alongside the coalition. Their Unified Kynaran Defense Force had been deployed across key districts, enforcing order and keeping rival gangs from rising in the Syndicate's wake.
"They've been keeping things under control," she admitted. "At least for now. No more gangs shaking down businesses, no more bribes to keep my doors open. But it's hard to trust them. They're not doing this out of kindness."
"No," Ethan agreed. "They're doing it for profit. Stability means better trade, more control. That's all it is to them."
Nara sighed. "Still, better than what we had before."
She glanced around her cantina, a brief moment of contemplation flickering across her features.
"I've been thinking about expanding," she finally said. "A second floor, maybe. Somewhere travelers and mercs can get a decent place to stay. Make this more than just a cantina, make it a real safe haven for people like you."
Ethan raised a brow, surprised. "That's ambitious."
Nara smirked. "What, you don't think I can do it?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "I'd be an idiot to doubt you."
"Damn right," she said again, this time with a small laugh.
As they spoke, Ethan found himself watching Nara in a way he hadn't before.
Her kindness had been a lifeline, even if she never realized it.
In a world where violence and betrayal lurked in every shadow, where survival often came at the cost of morality, Nara had never once asked for anything in return. She didn't demand favors, didn't push for debts to be repaid. This old lady simply offered him a place to sit, a warm meal, and a moment of peace. Things more valuable than any weapon or credit chip.
When he'd first arrived on Kynara, he had been adrift, burdened with nothing but a broken ship, a lackluster past, and an uncertain future. His battles had been fought with blades and plasma fire, but the war within him. The fight to keep going, to believe there was still something beyond the endless cycle of violence was one he had nearly lost.
And yet, through all of it, this cantina had been his sanctuary.
Not because it was safe, nothing truly was, but because here, within these dimly lit walls, he had been treated as Ethan, not a mercenary, not a warrior, not a man with too much blood on his hands.
Just Ethan Walker, another traveler passing through.
He had fought, bled, and endured against enemies far stronger than himself. He had carved his way through Syndicate enforcers, bandit warlords, rogue machines, and a celestial-esque abomination yet in the quiet moments between battles, when exhaustion threatened to break him, it wasn't his weapons that kept him standing.
It was this place, this quiet, unspoken kindness.
And now, for the first time in a long while, he found himself facing a question he didn't have an answer to:
How do you repay someone who asks for nothing?
How do you thank someone who had given you back a piece of yourself?
For a man who had spent so long taking lives, was it even possible to repay a debt that had nothing to do with blood or war but everything to do with something far more difficult to earn?
Maybe, just maybe, it was time he found out.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he swirled the last of his drink in his cup. The cantina was quieter now, the late-night crowd thinning as the hum of the city outside took over. He glanced at Nara, watching as she wiped down the counter, moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.
"You really planning to expand this place?" he asked, his voice casual, but his mind already turning over possibilities.
Nara shrugged, setting down the cloth. "Eventually. But money's tight. I'll make it work."
Ethan tapped his fingers against the table. That was Nara for you. No complaints, no asking for help, just quiet determination. She had built this place from nothing, fought to keep it running even when the Syndicate had nearly burned it to the ground. And now, she was thinking of growing it.
I could pull a few favors. He knew people who could get her better deals, maybe even secure trade routes that wouldn't leave her at the mercy of local extortionists. It wouldn't take much. A few calls, a few promises exchanged.
Or maybe… something more concrete.
His gaze drifted around the cantina. The place had character, warm, welcoming, a rare refuge in a city like Valeris but it was running on scraps. Nara had kept it alive through sheer force of will, but if she wanted to expand, she'd need more than just perseverance.
Maybe that was how he could repay her. By helping her build something lasting.