Episode 15. First Transfer
# Episode 15. First Transfer
The outer access layer was far quieter than the neutral port city's interior.
This had once been a grey transfer level that sorted and loaded disposal cargo, unofficial deliveries, and people pushed outside the records — so dead markers and living access lines always clung together here.
Quiet did not mean peaceful.
Rather the opposite. With fewer people, every single movement was heard more clearly. The metallic sound of a cargo tow passing in the distance, the tremor of a power line just before shutdown, a blast door closing somewhere belatedly. If the port's inside hid things in noise, this side hid things in silence.
The steel lift door opened fully and cold air rushed in.
Sion went out first, followed in order by Seorin, Sern, and Ater. Yona came out last and touched the lift panel once more. The faint power light died, and the steel door closed again — still, like a dead structure.
"Good."
Yona said low.
"From here, it's really outside the port."
Sion looked around.
Outer access layer, they called it — but even that was only half-true. Neither a formal passenger zone nor a complete disposal yard. A middle ground. Old transfer bridges discarded long ago and a few living access lines forced together. Signs had faded, lighting was half-dead, and the steel plates underfoot seemed worn not by human traffic but by wind and dust.
Seorin muttered beside him.
"Nice. Not a place for living."
"That's why it's a transfer point."
Yona replied.
Sern was already scanning the surrounding structure.
Upper surveillance lines, empty tracks below, emergency power connection traces, marks of recent human presence. This zone was less complex than the port proper, but in return — misread it, and there was nowhere to hide.
Ater received the landscape one beat late.
Still part of the city, even though it was outside the neutral port city. No — closer to a shadow where only the parts the city refused to take responsibility for remained. The kind of place that would not merit a single line in formal records, yet someone was still using. That contradiction kept catching his eye.
Yona pointed with his chin toward the dark tracks ahead.
"That way."
In the distance, inside a long shadow wedged between two dead hulls, a small shuttle was hiding.
Not flashy, not new. Closer to a cargo shuttle that had endured a long time. Its exterior markings were half-ground off, and the registration number showed signs of deliberate overpainting. The face of a ship that had long survived pretending to be neither legal nor illegal.
Sion looked at it and asked.
"That one?"
"Yeah. First transfer."
Yona answered short.
"Far as I can take you is here. From there, you cross over to the outer cluster line."
Seorin grimaced.
"Don't like it."
"Ships you'd like don't come to places like this."
Yona said.
Ater asked quietly.
"Who operates it."
Yona did not answer that immediately.
Instead he glanced at Sion. When Sion gave the smallest nod, only then did he speak.
"No name yet."
He said, dry.
"Elia opened the access point for you. The name after — she said you'd hear it there."
Sion smirked.
"Never trusting people all the way. Same as always."
"That's why she's not dead yet."
Short silence passed.
Then, from far off, a single low vibration traveled along the track.
Not an Empire-class capital ship. Not a civilian cargo ship either. Lighter, faster — the speed of those coming to search.
Sern raised his head first.
"They have attached."
Seorin turned back at the same time.
"From above?"
"From the side, for now."
Sern answered short.
"Not a gate ship — a search vessel. Deployed faster than standard pursuit."
Yona swallowed a curse.
"Fast."
That meant something worse than simple pursuit. It was closer to a signal that someone had already detected this dead path being walked again.
Sion looked between the shuttle, the dark tracks, and the vibration behind.
At this point, the options were simple. Wait and they attach; run and they might transfer. The problem was that all four did not decide at the same speed. And if they were one beat late here, it was not merely missing the ship — the name of the first transfer vessel and the access point itself would both be contaminated. Which would likely shut the dead-path approach lines behind them, one after another.
Ater said, short.
"We should hurry boarding."
Seorin followed at once.
Seorin scoffed.
"Fast with words when it suits you."
"Because now is when speed is needed."
Sion smirked at that.
This man was definitely annoying normally, but the type that pivoted immediately when urgency hit. That part — honestly — was slightly useful.
Sern had already moved to the next step.
"Boarding order should be Sion, Seorin, sir, then me."
Yona raised an eyebrow.
"Why."
"The front two need to read the ship's interior immediately. Sir is better securing sightlines from the middle. I will sever any pursuit that attaches at the end."
Sion laughed brief.
"Hey, this is actually starting to feel like role assignment."
Seorin cut immediately.
"Don't enjoy it. I still hate this."
"Likewise."
Ater layered onto that so naturally.
A short laugh passed.
Very brief, but the kind that only emerges between people pressed together to survive. Not because they were comfortable — because if they did not laugh now, things would stiffen so much they might snap.
Yona moved to the front first.
The path through the dead hull shadows was narrow, and the steel plates underfoot lifted in places. The sound changed depending on who stepped where. He walked picking only the quieter sections, precisely.
Sion followed directly behind, saying low.
"That guy's footwork is annoyingly precise, every time."
Seorin laughed small.
"Is that a compliment?"
"I hate it, but I acknowledge it."
From behind, the vibration grew again.
This time a thin light was visible, sweeping along the metal tracks. The distance was truly almost gone.
Sern said without looking back.
"Increase speed."
Yona answered immediately.
"Speed up now and it makes noise."
"Do not speed up and a louder noise attaches."
"Yeah, fair point."
Ten-odd steps to the shuttle now.
Short if short — but with pursuit following, that kind of distance feels longer.
Sion steadied one breath and closed the last few steps almost in a slide.
The instant his hand touched the shuttle's outer wall, the metal chill hit like ice. Beneath his palm, the heavy tremor particular to old shuttles lived. Not a dead ship. That fact was slightly reassuring — and strangely, more unsettling.
The ramp was only half-lowered.
Sion vaulted up first and scanned the interior. Narrow but structurally simple. Two front compartments, one rear cargo hold, emergency exit port-side. Not a ship built to carry many people — one built to pass what was needed, fast.
"Clear!"
He signaled immediately.
Seorin came up second, then Ater followed.
Sern watched behind until the very end, then placed his hand on the ramp last.
In that instant, from the darkness behind — a search light stretched long.
"Confirmed!"
Someone's shout was not very far.
Sern looked that way once, then pushed himself inside without delay.
Yona immediately dropped the ramp's manual lock, and the shuttle's outer wall began trembling shut.
Just before the metal fully sealed — from outside, something scraped along the hull.
The sound of pursuit arriving one step late, grazing past. It did not simply mean a close call. It meant, more precisely, that someone now knew a living transit line existed on this dead transfer level.
Everyone held their breath.
And the next moment — the shuttle's engine hummed once, low, from somewhere deep.
The ship that had been still came alive and began to move.
Sion braced his hand against the backrest-less wall and laughed, very brief.
"Nice."
Seorin asked, steadying her breath.
"What is."
"We're really going now."
The words seemed tossed light, but no one inside heard them lightly.
Away from the neutral port city, toward the outer cluster.
Chasing behind an erased name, following the first fragment of a severed path.
Now, truly — going had become more immediate than coming back.