Juno's Gate - a Luna Lynx Story

Prologue

A stone's throw from the colossal cityscape of Greenhold, the Artemis Veil's sanctuary stands like an ageworn relic from a time long gone. The sprawling complex, with its moss-clad stone and ivy-covered walls defy the city's concrete and pre-fab developments. In among the sprawling boreal complex, the air hangs still and cool. Open courtyards teem with tall trees and flora, their canopies filtering sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground below. Pathways paved in stone meander through these outdoor chambers, bridging the gaps between the Veil's various buildings and outposts.

The sanctuary stands as both a fortress and haven for the Veil's huntresses, an elite cadre of bounty hunters and guardians of the wilderness. Nestled within the treacherous mountain ranges that encircle it, countless women have been forged into near-mythical figures. The Veil's huntresses, so shaped by their rugged surroundings, have become icons of strength and tenacity.

While the serenity of its boulevards and courtyards provided a sanctuary for weary huntresses, the fortified walls and lookout posts are a reminder that their path is a dangerous one. Many are those who would like to see the huntresses and their base of operations snuffed out - marauders, scavengers, organized criminals - all have reason to fear and despise the women of the Veil.

Luna's boots thudded rhythmically against the deck plates as she made her way through the winding halls of the Veil. Her dusky blonde hair, loose today, swayed and bobbed with every step, and the dim lighting of the space left her mane glowing softly.

Robbie intercepted her from a side passage with a knowing grin. The woman was fiddling with the myriad pouches affixed to the waist of her bodysuit. "Armory again?" The shorter woman asked, throwing an accusing squint Luna's way.

Luna returned a half-smile. "Routine check-up," she replied nonchalantly.

Robbie raised an eyebrow. "Heard Talon-6 had limped back to base last night. Some punks giving you trouble out there?"

Luna hesitated, rolling the name 'Magnus', and the vid-captures of the huge man around her mind like a hard candy in her mouth. "Had a little dance with the Vega Marauders while tailing my latest mark - Magnus. They decided to crash the party, hit some vital systems. I had to beat a hasty retreat. Not my proudest moment." She rubbed her neck as she spoke.

Robbie arched an eyebrow, a smirk teasing the corners of her lips. "Dancing with Marauders? Luna, you always did have exotic tastes," She clicked her tongue sympathetically. "Yeah, those gnats have been buzzing louder than usual. Rumor has it they're rallying behind some new hotshot chief. I bet he's compensating for something, especially if they're making moves out in the Ghoul Stars." She held up her thumb and forefinger just a few inches apart, illustrating exactly what he might be compensating for.

Luna chuckled, grateful for the levity. "Maybe he's just lonely and looking for some attention." She let out a contemplative hum, her gaze momentarily distant as she thought of the burly Magnus. Snapping back to the present, she shot Robbie a playful wink. "I'll send him your details next time we meet. For now, I've got a dance card to fill." With a sly grin, she took her leave.

"What does that even mean?" Robbie was left with her hand on her hip, shaking her head as Luna stalked away.

The armory was a sacred chamber of chaos, and its priestess was Elara. Bioluminescent panels cast a soft glow over the walls, revealing an eclectic collection of tools, weapons, and half-assembled contraptions. An aroma of lubricant and scorched metal wafted through the room, mingling with the underlying scent of Elara's signature incense. There was a reason the armory felt like both a sanctuary and a workshop; it was where magic happened, where broken things got another shot at life.

Luna's boots echoed softly as she stepped further into the space, spotting Elara deep in concentration. The engineer was engrossed in some micro-modifications to a handheld device, fingers nimbly moving components like a virtuoso playing a favorite tune.

"Had a bit of a rough landing," Luna called out gently to get her friend's attention. "Ran into some trouble, and by trouble, I mean Marauders. Thought I could sneak past them on re-entry. Turns out I was dead wrong." She spoke as she meandered through the workshop, examining Elara's recent projects.

Elara looked up, her eyebrows raised in mock shock, but her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Again? Luna, if I didn't know better, I'd think you enjoyed these little run-ins. You always did have a penchant for the dangerous types."

Luna smirked, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, you know what they say about playing with fire."

Elara laughed, a rich sound that filled the chamber. "Yeah, but last time I checked, they didn't mean it literally."

Luna inhaled deeply. "Yeah - My shield generator in the dorsal hub is shot, and the comms? It's all static. I need you to work your magic, El."

Elara tapped a few commands, and the holographic schematics of the Talon-6 appeared, hovering above a workbench. Her fingers flitted over sections, mapping out the damages and making notations. "You didn't just poke those Marauders, did you? You went and kicked their damn nest. This isn't just a patch job, Luna."

"Wasn't exactly by choice. I got pulled into the fringes of a skirmish. Thought I could handle the Marauders if I engaged, but... well, here we are." She gestured to the hologram, its blinking red areas indicating all the repairs needed. "They had friends in the area, and they were more aggressive than I've ever encountered before,"

Elara glanced up, her eyes dancing with mischief again. "You have a terrible habit of underestimation. But, once we're done here, and if you promise not to break anything else for a while... drinks on you?"

Luna chuckled, "Drinks on me? After all the business I've brought your way?"

"Our paychecks come from the same place and you know it -" Elara deadpanned, a smirk playing on her lips, "After hearing the rest of this story, I'm gonna need a strong one."

The two women exchanged a knowing look. "Alright, drinks on me. Bishop's Barrel?"

Elara grinned. "Deal. But for now, let's get this bird flying again, shall we?"

Evening had settled over the sprawling city and stars were just beginning to pierce the darkening skies. The Bishop's Barrel, nestled inside one of Greenhold's many forested parks, was an oasis of cozy serenity amidst the towering spires and floating holograms of the more recently developed areas. Luna paused to brush her fingers over the ivy that clung to its ancient stone facade.

Inside, the pub was awash in amber light, creating pockets of shadows and warmth. As she stepped in, the thrum of conversation was briefly punctuated by subdued gasps and hushed whispers. Luna's badge glinting dimly in the subdued light marked her out, commanding respect and caution. The crescent moon and starfield was a sigil well known on the Veil's homeworld.

Approaching the bar, she met the eyes of a middle-aged bartender whose cybernetic arm whirred softly as he cleaned a glass.

"Gin and tonic," she spoke through a sigh, her voice rough-edged with fatigue and determination.

He nodded, assembling the drink with practiced ease. Luna took a moment to appreciate the sharp floral aroma of the gin before heading to her chosen corner, a quiet spot near a window that looked out onto the densely wooded park outside.

She'd barely settled into the plush weathered seat when the distant rumble of a rail car reached her ears. The city was interlaced with these tracks, providing swift transport through its vast expanse. Their rumbling, thumping sound was like the heartbeat of the city. The rhythmic sound was interrupted by a chime from Luna's comm unit. A message from Elara - one of the Veil's patrol ships was in need of emergency work, and she wasn't going to make it.

Cradling her drink, Luna's thoughts veered towards Magnus and his elusive ship, the Bargost. That vessel had been a thorn in her side, especially after it had caused significant damage to her own ship in a recent skirmish. Truthfully, the Bargost wasn't directly responsible for the damage to her ship. Luna had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, a mere observer on the periphery of a clash. But a stray missile had no discretion, no awareness of the bystander it smashed into, sending Luna spiraling into emergency repairs on a nearby orbital dock. From there, she'd hobbled her beloved Talon-6 back to Greenhold and into Elara's more expert care. That skirmish had cost her time, money, and pride. It was a slight she didn't take lightly.

The Bargost had been on the Veil's radar for some time now - the ship seemed to be involved in all manner of shady business across the Eastern Fringe, although it was difficult to pin any specific crimes to them. The Veil wanted them, however, if only to interrogate their databanks and perhaps tap a motherlode of intel on larger, more high value bounties. Luna's attempts to locate the Bargost had been a never-ending game of cosmic hide and seek. It seemed every lead was either a dead-end or led her straight into another ambush. Whispers in dark alleyways, encrypted transmissions, shadowy figures who promised information -- all had amounted to nothing. Several times, she'd been pointed in a promising direction, only to find it was just another wild goose chase, a setup to trap or mislead her.

The more she tried to get close, the more elusive the Bargost became. Luna couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that they were always one step ahead, as if they had eyes and ears everywhere. Every snitch she approached, every black market dealer she interrogated, it was as if they'd already been prepped, warned off, or too frightened to speak.

There were even moments Luna wondered if there was an insider, a mole within her own ranks or contacts. Tracking them had become not just a challenge, but a perilous dance.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she stared out the window, the city in the distance now enveloped in darkness. Luna knew she was in for a long night. But her determination was unwavering; Magnus and the Bargost wouldn't elude her grasp for long. And when she finally had that Orruk, the satisfaction would be immeasurable. For pride, for cash, and for the climax of her hunt.

Chapter 1

Luna's pursuit of Magnus and the elusive Bargost had recently taken a promising turn and the scent of a fresh lead was intoxicating. After months of cold trails and frustrating leads, she stumbled upon a tangible clue. A ship that could only be the Bargost was captured on a security tape loading a cache of military goods, distinctly marked with the emblem of the Helion Sovereign. It was an audacious move by any standard -- pilfering goods directly under the nose of one of the most dominant and ruthless regimes in the galaxy. As they fenced their pilfered treasures, the Bargost inadvertently provided Luna with the breadcrumbs she so desperately needed. All trails now pointed her towards Calypso IV, an old mining planet on the Eastern Fringe that had become a haven for smugglers, traders, and explorer-types.

Luna's hands deftly guided the Talon-6 down through Calypso IV's tumultuous atmosphere, her practiced eyes scanning the alien terrain. The landscape was mesmerizing, with vast fields of crystals that reflected multi-colored light, casting dazzling arrays of hues across the wilds. The ship was sleek and maneuverable but deceptively large, with hidden compartments for her needs; a cargo hold, a detention cell, and her personal quarters. Three weapon arrays bristled from the vessel's metallic hide, each displaying in no uncertain terms that the craft was able to defend itself.

With a soft hum, the Talon-6 touched down on the uneven ground near one of the shimmering crystal fields. Luna's heart was already racing, excitement and anticipation mingling in her chest.

Amidst the subdued light of the Talon-6's armory, Luna evaluated her assortment of tools and weaponry -- relics of countless hunts. The polished wood workbench under her fingertips was a bedlam of orderly tech. She ran her fingers delicately over the items, considering. There was the pulsar knife with its heated edge, a coil-rope that could both restrain and electrocute, as well as a compact shield generator and various tracking devices. Her eyes landed on a couple of bottles of lubricant, incongruously placed among the high-tech gear. A chuckle escaped her lips as she gave them a playful tap. "Won't be needing you two on this trip," she murmured with amusement.

She mentally calculated the weight and functionality of each piece. Efficiency was key, but being unprepared was not an option. As she made her final selections, she reminded herself of one more task - to collect some of those radiant crystals from Calypso IV's fields.

She wasted no more time, strapping on her gear, feeling the familiar weight of her tools and weapons. Her boots hit the ramp as it lowered to the alien soil, the scent of foreign flora mixing with the intoxicating glimmer of the crystals. Her visor's heads-up-display activated, mapping a course to the settlement she'd glimpsed from space.

Magnus was out there. Luna ran her tongue over her teeth with a predator's anticipation as she ventured into the crystalline wilderness, leaving the Talon-6 tucked away in a secluded glade. The thrill of the hunt was back in full force.

Calypso VI's setting sun bathed the crystal spires in a cascade of ever-changing hues, reflecting their brilliance across the exposed red rock formations. Luna's boots crunched the crystalline sands underfoot, the tiny shards glinting and refracting the light of the system's sun in a spectrum of blues and purples. Massive crystal spires rose from the ground, casting jagged shadows on the desert landscape.

The ambient hum of her suit's systems was a constant, comforting presence, the background to her every movement. Soft, rhythmic breathing echoed in her helmet, its internal HUD overlaying information about atmospheric conditions, her vitals, and any signs of life in her vicinity. Slung across her back, her rifle felt cold and reassuring, its weight a testament to its lethal capability.

Her movements were calculated and efficient, each step purposeful, minimizing sound and disturbance. Her eyes darted from one potential hiding spot to another, always alert for the slightest anomaly that might betray Magnus's presence.

Every now and then, the alien sounds of Calypso IV reached her ears. A distant cry of some nocturnal predator awaiting true darkness, the rustling of strange flora swaying under the gentle breeze, and the rhythmic thump of her own footsteps against the compacted soil. The atmosphere was thick with expectation, and it made the tiny hairs on her neck stand up.

She was a hunter, through and through. While the scenery might be beautiful, to Luna, every contour of the land, every shade in the crystals was a potential clue or a vantage point. The elegance of the alien topography didn't distract her from the task. Instead, she used it, mentally mapping escape routes and choke points.

Leaning into the shadows of a large rock outcropping, she pulled out a compact scanner, its screen reflecting in her visor. The little device worked its magic, scanning for traces of exotic particles or synthetic materials -- the kind Magnus's gear or ship might leave behind. There were faint readings, residual traces that suggested he'd been here, but how long ago was anyone's guess.

Luna paused, letting the air of Calypso IV fill her lungs. The atmosphere had a peculiar quality to it, every breath tinged with a subtle hint of cinnamon, a gentle reminder that this was an alien world. The exploration, the thrill of the hunt - it was what she lived for. And then there was the aftermath, the culmination of tension built up over days, weeks, months. After a successful hunt, the primal urges she so often indulged.

Luna felt her thoughts begin to spiral, a dizzying mix of anticipation and remembrance, threatening to pull her away from the task at hand. She was seasoned enough to recognize when her mind started to wander, and instinctively reached for the rebreather unit attached to the collar of her stealth suit.

Drawing a breath from it, she inhaled a low-dose puff of C-Synth, a chem-mix specially formulated by Artemis Veil techs. The concoction was designed to recenter and sharpen the senses, wiping away distractions and boosting cognitive function. Within seconds, the world came back into sharper focus and Luna's mind grew clear, the fog of distraction dissipating.

Re-shouldering her pack, Luna continued her relentless pursuit. Each step brought her closer to her quarry, the dance of predator and prey playing out against the breathtaking backdrop of Calypso IV.

Luna crested a rugged outcrop, her eyes catching the glint of metal and polymer in the distance -- Magnus' pre-fab settlement sprawled out on the plateau below. From this vantage, the assortment of angular buildings looked almost peaceful, lit by the ambient glow of Calypso IV's setting sun, which painted the structures in hues of orange and deep purple. Her fingers danced over the controls of her wrist-com, bringing up a high-resolution scan of the area. No heat signatures detected, although she had a visual on bootprints and vehicle tracks in the camp.

She studied the layout, noting likely sentry lookouts potential entry points. Her suit detected no life, but Luna knew better than to rely on her tech alone. With her approach mapped out, Luna began her descent, moving silently down the jagged terrain, using the terrain's shadows and the stealth capabilities of her suit to cloak her advance.

As she padded into the camp, Luna could feel the anticipation of the capture in her very bones. Her pulse pistol was drawn and set to stun, the faint blue glow emanating from the partially exposed energy coils casting a soft light on her arms and chest. Her rifle felt heavy on her back - she hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

Echoes of recent life marked the campsite, abandoned in appearance but alive with remnants of its former occupants: footfalls and the faint after-scent of anti-grav engines. Luna's gaze methodically assessed the prefab structures - their stark lines and muted tones dimly catching the soft luminescence of Calypso VI's binary moons.

As Luna paused in a long shadow, she heard the distant rumble of weather threatening to head her way. Her mind drifted back to a stormy evening on Talos' Reach. She'd cornered the notorious Thorne Kael - The Arrow - with the help of her three cyber-hounds. The adrenaline-fueled capture had taken an unexpected turn after she'd bound the man and secured him in the brig on her ship, leading to a night that he would never forget.

She'd found herself disappointed with the man's performance, but the memory was no less entertaining. The ghost of a smirk touched her lips. 'Focus, Luna,' she chastised herself. 'The past is a distraction. The hunt is now.'

Pressing onward, Luna methodically swept the quick-fab structures. The ambient drone of environmental controls and the distant keening of wind across barren dunes provided an eerie soundtrack for her search. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes upon her, even if her suit offered no warning.

Hidden away like an afterthought behind the largest of the buildings, a doorway beckoned her. The protesting groan of the heavy metal door revealed an intimate cache - worn uniforms, assorted tools, and the distinct scents of incense and engine oil. A skylight dribbled muted light into the room, intertwining with the residue of the incense. This space held some personal fragments of Magnus' crew. Luna felt an inkling of a narrative taking shape in her psyche - the room seemed to hum with the lived experiences of its absent occupants.