Chapter 512: Onboard
(Planet Tithia, Hangar Bay Area, Deployment Day)
A full day slipped by in the blink of an eye for Leo and Veyr, as the two spent nearly every waking moment planning, refining, and mentally rehearsing the mission from every possible angle.
Before long, deployment hour crept upon them, forcing them to shed their true selves as they changed into faded olive-green janitorial uniforms that sagged loosely over their real forms.
Their faces had been expertly altered using [Shapeshift], now bearing the dull, forgettable features of middle-aged maintenance workers. Not too ugly, not too distinct, just enough to blend in and be ignored.
Around their wrists, thin black bracelets looked nothing special, however, they were actually high tier items that suppressed their auras down to the level of ordinary civilians.
Even a seasoned Transcendent Lieutenant scanning them would find nothing remarkable, as they looked completely harmless as two unarmed, non-mana sensitive service staff on their way to service some spillage or perform daily cleaning duties.
"Load up, runts."
A sharp, irritable voice snapped through the air.
The man shouting stood halfway up the ramp, dressed in a worn White Tiger Union uniform, his tone more focused on getting through his checklist than caring who was boarding.
A bulky data slate rested in his palm, the tip of his stylus already scratching a confirmation tick beside the false identities that Leo and Veyr had assumed which he did not even bother to check twice.
It was a calculated decision on the Cult’s part. While they had paid the White Tiger Union to smuggle two operatives onto Koral, they had never disclosed who those operatives truly were.
Instead, Leo and Veyr had been introduced as low-tier scouts assigned to a basic reconnaissance mission, their janitorial disguises serving as both cover and misdirection.
The reasoning behind this was simple—if the White Tiger Union believed they were transporting nothing more than expendable foot soldiers, the risk of betrayal remained low.
But if they learned the truth, if they realized they were carrying the Dragons themselves, the temptation to sell them to the enemy and sever ties with the Cult would become far too great to ignore.
Hence, to cut down such unnecessary risks, the real identities of Leo and Veyr remained a mystery to even the White Tiger Union.
Unfortunately, the loading officer hadn’t been made privy to that truth, and as far as he was concerned, Leo and Veyr were nothing more than disposable grunts—just another pair of nameless bodies in faded uniforms.
So when he barked out, "Load up, runts," while ticking their names off a data slate without so much as a glance, Veyr’s glare sharpened instantly, his pupils narrowing with thinly veiled fury.
"What did you say to—" Veyr began, his killing intent rising, as without hesitation, Leo stepped in.
He reached behind Veyr and grabbed the back of his head, fingers locking in place like iron as he forcefully pushed him forward, guiding him up the ramp without giving him a chance to turn.
"Don’t." Leo muttered under his breath, the word more a command than a suggestion, as Veyr stumbled up ahead, silently fuming.
The loader raised a brow and scoffed.
"Keep that one under control," he warned, tapping the edge of the slate with a pointed glare. "Or I’ll eject him into space mid-journey. I’ve done it before, don’t think I won’t do it again."
Leo gave a sheepish nod, lowering his head in a perfect imitation of a timid soldier too low in rank to question authority.
"Understood, sir. He’s just tired... didn’t sleep much before the departure window," Leo mumbled, letting just enough nervousness seep into his voice to sell the act.
The loader didn’t care for the explanation. He had already turned back to the next set of items on his list.
And just like that, the two Dragons stepped onto a ship bound for Righteous Faction territory.
—------------------
The ship’s internal bay was dim and cramped, packed with crates bound for Sector Twelve’s monthly resupply.
Amongst all the other goods were a tray full of cleaning goods and a bucket filled with fake sanitation gear.
Everything had been arranged by the Cult to match the official logs, down to the grease stains and scrubbed ID tags. Their cover was airtight.
As the hatch sealed behind them with a metallic hiss, Leo found a corner near the storage crates and sat down, motioning for Veyr to do the same, as only once the engines began to warm and the ship lurched off the dock, did he allow himself to breathe properly.
"Do that again," Leo whispered coldly, "and you’ll compromise everything."
Veyr didn’t respond right away.
But after a long pause, he nodded once, the red in his irises beginning to dim again.
Outside the reinforced hull, Planet Tithia shrunk in the distance, while Koral loomed ever closer.
The two of them sat in silence, the low hum of the ship filling the space between them as they waited for their destination to arrive in about four hours, passing the time with quiet conversation.
"You know, my first real job was as a toilet cleaner at a roadside motel," Veyr said, chuckling softly at the memory. "I worked there for seven months when I was just eleven."
"I’d just run away from the orphanage back then, and I hadn’t gotten into stealing yet. So I did what I could to get by..." he added, his voice trailing into something a little more grim, as Leo smiled faintly from across the room.
"I’ve worked in sanitation too. Not even at eleven, but nineteen," Leo replied, his tone calm, almost amused. "Had to scrub the waste tanks on a long-distance arc ship."
"I’ve seen my share of hardship, brother. In this case, you’re not alone," he said simply, as Veyr blinked in surprise.
Somehow, looking at Leo, he never imagined that kind of past. The way Leo carried himself, the confidence in his posture, the sharp edge in his words.... it all made him seem like someone born into status.
"Huh. So you had it rough too, huh?" Veyr said, a slow grin tugging at his lips as he realized that maybe they really were cut from the same cloth.
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