Chapter 5: Frontier Space

Overlapping signals hit the Morningstar's sensor array — dozens of them, syndicate transponder codes layered over pirate warnings layered over trade advertisements, all broadcasting on frequencies that bled into each other. Prime processed the chaos from the helm, his fingers resting against the console where ship systems fed directly into his awareness. The Frontier Reaches opened before them through the forward viewport: a scatter of stations and platforms orbiting a dead brown dwarf, its faint thermal signature the only natural light source in this pocket of space. Just the raw electromagnetic noise of a hundred competing interests, each one claiming authority over the same stretch of nothing. "Three syndicate signals on overlapping frequencies," he said, parsing the data as it streamed through his processing cores. "The Korvan Syndicate claims jurisdiction over the primary approach corridor. A group calling themselves the Rift Collective disputes that claim on the same frequency. And a third signal — encrypted, no identifier — is broadcasting what appears to be a toll schedule for ships entering from the galactic south." Sera leaned forward in the co-pilot's chair beside him, eyes on the viewport. "That encrypted one. How strong is the signal?" "Weak. Relay-bounced, at least twice. They don't control the hardware — they're piggybacking on someone else's infrastructure." Prime tilted his head right, a fraction of a degree. Curiosity. "The Korvan signal is strongest. They own the relay stations. But the Rift Collective's broadcast pattern suggests they have physical assets closer to the station cluster itself. The toll signal is opportunistic — someone small, leveraging the confusion." "So the Korvans own the road, the Rift owns the neighborhood, and somebody's running a lemonade stand in between." Sera's mouth curved. On his left shoulder, Pip gripped the edge of his chassis plating and leaned forward, wings folded…