The crimson dunes of Krynn stretched endlessly under a bruised sky, the air thick with the scent of rust and decay.
Veyra crouched low, her tattered cloak blending with the sand as she eyed the wreckage ahead—a Gene Lord frigate, its hull split open like a gutted beast.
At sixteen, Veyra was small but wiry, her frame hardened by years of scavenging. Her cracked visor flickered, its HUD scanning for threats. She adjusted her pack, her fingers brushing against the knife at her belt. If she was lucky, the frigate held something valuable: a power core, a data shard, maybe even a gene-vial—anything to trade for a ticket off this forsaken planet.
She darted forward, her boots sinking into the sand with each step. The frigate loomed closer, its jagged tear inviting her in.
Veyra slipped through the opening, her gloved hands brushing against scorched metal. The air inside was stale, heavy with the smell of burnt circuits and blood. Her visor's night vision kicked in, casting a green glow over a corridor littered with debris—and bodies.
Gene Lord soldiers. Their armor cracked. Their faces frozen in terror.
Whatever had killed them wasn't human.
Veyra's heart raced, but she pressed on. Death was common on Krynn; she'd seen it too many times to let it stop her. She stepped over a corpse, her visor pinging with a faint energy signature deeper in the ship.
She followed the signal, her fingers tracing the walls until she reached a sealed door. The panel beside it was fried, but Veyra had a trick—a makeshift EMP spike she'd scavenged and modified.
She jammed it into the panel, and with a crackle, the door slid open.
Inside was a small chamber, its walls lined with shattered vials. In the center, on a pedestal, sat a gene-seed—a glowing orb the size of her fist, its surface swirling with iridescent light.
Veyra's breath caught.
Gene-seeds were the currency of power in the galaxy, used by the Gene Lords to evolve their soldiers into superhuman warriors. A single seed could buy her a new life, far from Krynn. But they were dangerous—unstable, forbidden to anyone outside the Gene Lords' control.
She reached for it, her hand trembling.
The moment her fingers brushed the seed, a jolt of energy surged through her, and her vision blurred. Images flashed through her mind—a void of endless darkness, a voice whispering in a language she didn't understand, and a sense of hunger—vast, ancient, and alive.
Veyra stumbled back, the gene-seed falling into her lap. Her visor sparked and died, plunging the chamber into darkness.
The wind outside shifted.
Engines.
Veyra's stomach dropped.
She stuffed the gene-seed into her pack and scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. The Gene Lords would kill to reclaim this seed—and they'd kill her just for touching it.
She sprinted through the frigate's torn hull, her boots clanging against the metal floor. The cargo bay was just ahead—a maze of crates and debris where she could hide.
She slipped into the bay, ducking behind a stack of rusted containers. Her hands shook as she pulled the gene-seed from her pack again, its light dim but warm.
Her senses felt sharper. She could hear the enforcers' footsteps outside, their voices barking orders.
A shadow passed over the entrance.
Veyra held her breath.
An enforcer stepped inside, his rifle raised, his visor scanning the room. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows, her heart pounding.
The enforcer moved closer, his boots crunching on debris.
Veyra's hand tightened around her knife, but she knew it was useless against his armor.
A shout came from outside.
The enforcer turned, hurrying back to his squad.
Veyra exhaled, her body trembling with relief. She couldn't stay here—they'd tear the frigate apart looking for her.
The canyon network, a few hundred meters away, was her only chance—a maze of tunnels where she'd hidden from raiders before.
She waited until the voices faded, then crept out of the cargo bay. The skimmers' lights painted the dunes in harsh white.
Then, she ran for her life.