Rex looked around the eggshell, searching for any sign of his blood, but it wasn’t there. At this point, he just hoped he hadn’t done something that would come back to bite him later.

    He shut the cargo doors and made his way toward Cleo, who was busy operating the medic drone.

    "Cleo, since when are you a doctor?" Rex asked, his face twisted in confusion.

    "I’m not," she replied without looking up. "I just downloaded all the medical data from the planet’s database. Now, I’m uploading it to this drone and saving it for future use."

    "Oh, cool. So, what now? Honestly, I have no idea what we should do next."

    "Rex, I’m just here to help; you figure that out. My race was wiped out by the Hive Minds. I might be the last survivor. What about your people?"

    "Well, from what I know, they were conquered a few years ago. Now they’re just slaves. Actually, you’re lucky you met two humans on this planet who aren’t slaves. We’re like... an endangered species."

    Cleo was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to free your people?"

    "That’s a good question. I don’t have this’savior’ thing in me." Rex sighed as he walked toward the cockpit, staring out at the dark forest filled with strange, alien flora.

    Cleo followed and stood beside him. Rex glanced at her. "I don’t even know what I want. How can I feel sympathy for people I don’t even know? Being a savior... that’s just not me."

    Cleo stayed silent, listening. Rex continued, "I don’t even know if I can protect those close to me. That includes you. But now, for the first time, I actually get to choose what I want to do, and it’s terrifying."

    He sat down on the floor, and Cleo joined him. After a moment, he looked at her. "So, what about you, Cleo? Is there something you want? Something you desire?

    Cleo stood up and moved to position herself directly in front of Rex. He stared at her, unsure of what was happening. Then, slowly, she knelt down before him, her eyes fixed on his. She reached out, extending her hand toward his face, but just like before, her fingers passed right through him since she was only a hologram.

    "I... I want a body," she whispered, pulling her hand back with a sad expression that Rex had never seen on her before.

    For the first time, Rex was at a loss for words. He had never seen Cleo show anything other than her usual poker face or the occasional flustered look when he teased her.

    "So... what do you need to get a body?" he finally asked.

    "I need an advanced assembly factory... and living metal."

    "Living metal?" Rex furrowed his brow. "Never heard of it. What is it, and how do we get it?"

    "I’ve already been looking into it. These days, living metal is used in bionic implants that only the wealthiest can afford. And the cost? It’s incredibly high."

    She paused before continuing, "The living metal is a substance my race created organically, designed to help us reproduce or grow stronger. It’s a mix of minerals that, after being refined within us, becomes almost like a living organism, capable of healing itself."

    Carlos blinked in surprise. "That sounds solid, but how do you plan on getting them here? Pretty sure those Void Assassins wiped the zone coordinates clean. No one knows where this place is."

    "I’ve already taken care of that," Cleo replied, her face returning to its usual poker expression. "Look at the screen. I left communication drones outside the planet before we landed. They’re equipped with cloaking tech, so they’re almost undetectable. Through them, we can transmit the coordinates to all the smugglers."

    Rex leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. "So, you’ve thought of everything, huh? I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. I’m guessing you’ve already got the mining drones working, right?"

    "Correct," Cleo confirmed. "They’ve started excavating the first floor. It’ll take about a week to complete, and we’ll need a significant amount of energy. That brings me to the real issue; we’re going to need credits to buy more batteries for the ship."

    "But wouldn’t a recharging station be a better option than constantly buying batteries?" Carlos asked, glancing at the schematics on the screen.

    "Sure, if you’ve got 2,000,000 credits lying around," Cleo shot back, staring at Carlos with a look that practically screamed, Are you serious?

    Rex chuckled. "Alright, alright, stop it, you two. No need to fight. It looks like it’s time for us to start our mercenary work, am I right? So, Cleo, do you have any info on the mercenary opportunities on this planet?"

    "Affirmative," Cleo responded. "I’ll pull up the data for you now."

    The detailed information about the four mercenary groups appeared on the large screen:

    [Iron Wraiths: Hired by corporations and governments for large-scale planetary invasions, especially when brute force is needed to suppress hostile populations or break through heavily fortified installations.]

    [Phantom Dagger: Specialize in corporate espionage, assassinations, and black ops.]. [Often contracted to neutralize high-value targets, sabotage rivals, or infiltrate enemy bases.]

    [Thunderblades: Known for taking on high-risk, high-reward missions like boarding enemy ships, raiding fortified compounds, and executing high-speed, hit-and-run assaults.]

    [Steel Nomads: Experts in rapid assaults, convoy protection, and hit-and-run attacks on enemy supply lines. They’re also skilled at transporting and smuggling valuable assets through dangerous territories.]

    Rex studied the screen for a moment, rubbing his chin. "Hmm, okay... From what I see, the Iron Wraiths pay pretty well per mission, but leaving the planet isn’t an option right now. Phantom Dagger pays the most, but the risk is off the charts. That leaves us with the Thunderblades and the Steel Nomads. What do you think, brother?"

    Carlos leaned back in his seat, thinking it over. "Cleo, we can only pick one?"

    "Negative," Cleo responded, her voice calm and professional. "We can choose any of them. We’re registered as independent Rank B mercenaries."

    Rex raised an eyebrow. "Rank B? What does that mean exactly?"

    "Mercenaries are ranked from F to S," Cleo explained. "Rank B places you as a veteran and experienced enough to take on tougher jobs without drawing too much attention. It’s a good balance: not too high-profile but still bringing in decent credits. Being independent means we can take jobs from any of these groups, but don’t expect any assistance from them if things go south."

    Carlos smirked. "So, we’re on our own, huh? I like it."

    Rex grinned. "If that’s how it works, then I guess we should...."