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" the mayor’s voice snarled.

"We need them desperate. The more chaos, the better. They’ll have no choice but to sell to us at a fraction of the value. Those merchants will crawl back to me on their knees, begging for salvation."

The room fell silent as the recording played. The residents watched in stunned horror as their leader, the man they had trusted for so long, laid bare his treachery.

"That’s not all,"

Carlos said, his voice cutting through the silence. He tapped the device again, bringing up another recording. This time, it showed the mayor standing on the bridge of a pirate cruiser, flanked by several of the station’s most infamous attackers.

"You will blockade the station and allow nothing through without my approval,"

the mayor commanded.

"No supplies, no weapons, no reinforcements. The longer they suffer, the easier it will be to control them. Do you understand?"

As the second recording ended, the room erupted again, this time with anger and outrage.

"That bastard sold us out!"

"How could he?! We trusted him!"

"I knew something was off when the pirates left certain shipments untouched!"

The administrator, still staring at the mayor, closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He had suspected something was amiss for months, but he hadn’t dared to entertain the possibility that it was the man he had once respected as a friend.

Meanwhile, the mayor, still slumped on the floor, lifted his head weakly. His lips curled into defiant sneers.

"You think... you’ve won,"

he rasped, his voice barely audible.

"You have no idea what’s coming. You’re all... dead men walking."

Rex laughed, the sound rich and booming as he stood from the throne.

"You really don’t get it, do you?

" He said, his voice light but dripping with condescension.

"Your little schemes are done. Your pirate fleet is scrap metal floating in space. Your leverage is gone. You are nothing."

He gestured toward the administrator with a grand sweep of his hand.

"Consider this a favor, Gramps. I’ve not only taken care of your pirate problem but handed you the very man who caused it on a silver platter. Do with him what you will. Lock him up, put him on trial, toss him out an airlock, or whatever helps you sleep at night."

The administrator looked at Rex, his face a mix of exhaustion and gratitude, though there was still a flicker of unease in his eyes.

"I don’t know what to say,"

he admitted quietly.

"How about ’thank you’?"

Rex replied with a grin, his golden halo shimmering faintly above his throne.

The administrator gave a slow, reluctant nod.

"Thank you,"

he said at last, though his voice carried the weight of a man who had just lost a great deal of his faith in humanity.

Rex clapped his hands together, his tone bright and cheerful once more.

"Now that’s what I like to hear! Alright, folks, let’s wrap this up. Carlos, clean up the mess. Cleo, make sure our dear administrator here has the proper documents for our little agreement. And Ys—"

"Don’t even think about giving me a job,

" Ys snapped, folding her arms as she glared at him.

Rex laughed again, already heading toward the transport ship.

The residents of the station watched them go, their emotions a chaotic mix of relief, anger, and unease. Their lives had been turned upside down in the span of an afternoon, and none of them could shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Even as Rex made his way back to the transport ship, he carried Cleo in his arms, who by this point had resigned herself to her fate.

Her face burned brighter than a supernova, redder than a ripe tomato, her usual composed demeanor completely shattered. She buried her face in Rex’s chest, hoping that somehow this moment would be erased from existence.

Behind them, the rest of Rex’s team filed into the transport ship. Carlos was smirking like he’d just witnessed the funniest thing all week; Ys was still muttering under her breath about how unfair it all was.

Without another word, the transport’s doors hissed shut, and the sleek vessel lifted off, leaving behind the trading station and the shattered remnants of its once-proud mayor.

As the sound of the engines faded into the void, the cargo bay fell silent for a moment. The residents stood there, staring at the mangled and moaning man lying on the floor, their emotions a tangled mix of shock, disbelief, and growing rage.

The old administrator was the first to break the silence.

"Quickly! Send a message to the military on the planet! Tell them to get here immediately and take care of this bastard!"

He yelled loudly, already moving to steady himself as he prepared to issue further orders.

But one of the communication officers nearby hesitated, wiping his hands nervously.

"I’m sorry, sir. We’ve tried to contact the planetary military before. Multiple times. But our communications network has been offline ever since the pirate attacks began."

The administrator froze mid-step, his hands gripping the edge of a console. He slowly turned to face the officer, his expression grim.

"Our lines are still down."

The officer nodded solemnly.

"Yes, sir. I’m afraid so."

Hearing this, the mayor, who had been clutching at his injuries and moaning on the floor, suddenly stiffened. His trembling grew more violent as realization set in. He tried to muster a nervous laugh, but it came out weak and hollow.

"Ah, I see. That’s... that’s unfortunate. Truly unfortunate,"

the mayor stammered, his voice shaking as he tried to push himself up onto his knees. "

Well, no matter! Just get me to a medical bay, and we can sort all this out later. A patrol will come eventually, and then—"

His rambling was cut off by the sharp

whine

of a laser pistol charging.

The sound echoed through the cargo bay, followed by the crack of a single shot.

The mayor’s scream pierced the air as he collapsed back to the ground, clutching his leg, where a smoldering hole now burned through his white pants.

"Hiiiiia! My leg! My leg! Someone help me!"

The crowd turned toward the source of the shot, and there, standing amidst the gathered residents, was one of the station’s militia. The man was trembling, tears streaming down his face, but his hands were steady as he aimed his laser pistol at the writhing mayor.

"You... you damn monster,"

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the militia officer spat, his voice choked with grief and fury.

"You took my son from me. You... disgusting creature! Return him to me!"

Before anyone could stop him, the man fired again, this time hitting the mayor’s other leg. Another agonized scream filled the room.

"Wait, stop! What are you?"

The administrator started, but his voice was drowned out by another shout from the crowd.

"Because of you, I’ll never walk again!"

one of the guards yelled, dragging his mangled leg forward as he raised his weapon. He fired, the blast striking the mayor’s shoulder and sending him sprawling onto his back.

"My ship! My livelihood! My family!

" a merchant screamed, his face twisted in rage. "

You destroyed everything I had! Return them to me!"

His shot landed squarely on the mayor’s arm, seizing it completely.

And then, chaos erupted.

One by one, the residents of the station stepped forward, their grief and fury boiling over as they unleashed it all on the man who had betrayed them. Shots rang out in rapid succession, each blast tearing away a piece of the once-proud mayor.

His screams grew weaker and weaker as his body was reduced to little more than a bloody, mangled husk.

Some shouted curses as they fired. Others wept openly, their voices trembling as they vented months of frustration, grief, and loss. Even those who had initially hesitated eventually joined in, their pent-up anger pushing them to pull the trigger.

The old administrator watched it all unfold in grim silence. He knew there was no stopping this. The people needed this—needed an outlet for their pain, their hopelessness, their fury.

By the time the shooting stopped, there was nothing left of the mayor but a broken, motionless figure on the cold cargo bay floor.

His limbs were gone, his body barely recognizable, and the once-pristine white suit he had worn as a symbol of power and authority was now little more than shredded, bloodied rags.

The crowd stood in stunned silence, their weapons lowered, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke.

Then, slowly, the old administrator stepped forward. He reached for the sidearm holstered at his waist, his movements steady and deliberate. Standing over the broken man who had caused so much suffering, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"This is for the people you betrayed,"

he said quietly.

He raised his weapon and fired a single, final shot. The mayor’s body jerked once before falling still.

The room remained silent, the only sound being the faint hum of the station’s systems. Slowly, the administrator turned to face the crowd. His shoulders were slumped, and his expression was one of deep weariness.

"It’s done,"

he said softly, his voice carrying through the bay.

"Let’s clean this up... and start rebuilding what we’ve lost."

The residents nodded silently, their anger spent, their hearts heavy. The nightmare was over, but the scars it had left behind would take much longer to heal.

Above them, Rex’s transport ship disappeared into the blackness of space, carrying with it a crew that couldn’t have cared less about what they’d left behind. For them, this was just another stop on their journey. Another conquest. Another step toward whatever grand plan Rex had in mind.