The revelations from the drone's memory core changed the dynamic of their journey.
The trek was no longer just about survival; it was a grim pilgrimage toward a known destination.
The knowledge of what was likely happening at the Foundry lent a new, heavy silence to their march.
Every step they took across the hostile place felt like a step closer to the heart of a profound evil.
SC became even more distracted with his mind clearly still on with processing the data they had found.
He would walk for hours with his eyes out of focus and occasionally muttering under his breath.
Kaelen, in the other hand is focused on the planning of their survival and plans for the next moves.
They had left the Ferrous Wastes behind and were now entering the foothills of the Gorgon's Maze, a region of sharp, twisted peaks and deep, jungle-choked valleys.
The air was thick with the scent of unique pollen and decay. The path forward was treacherous, requiring them to climb sheer rock faces and navigate dense, thorny undergrowth.
It was during a brief rest, while SC was attempting to enhance the resolution of their map using algorithms from the drone's software, that the slip happened.
He was hunched over his datapad, his face a mask of frustration as he tried to bypass a corrupted data block in the topographical survey.
"Dammit," he muttered, tapping furiously at the screen. "This is sloppy. The compression artifacts, the redundant code… it's the work of a third-rate military intelligence unit. You'd never see this level of incompetence from the First or Fifth Army's cyber-warfare divisions. This has the incompetence of the Third Army's encryption protocols written all over it."
He froze.
The words had tumbled out, a product of pure, unthinking frustration. Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting Kaelen's.
The air grew thick with a sudden, sharp tension.
Kaelen, who had been sharpening a piece of rock to use as a crude knife, stopped his work. His movements were slow and deliberate, but his eyes were like chips of ice.
"The Third Army," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Their encryption protocols are among the most classified secrets in the Imperial military. Only high-level command and the specific cyber-warfare units that design them have access to that kind of information. Even I, as a General of the Fifth Army, only have a passing familiarity with their general structure."
He stood, a towering and intimidating figure in the dim jungle light.
"So tell me, Elian," he used SC's first, discarded name and this stupid game of his, "how does a common criminal, a disgraced bureaucrat, know the intricate details of the Third Army's encryption weaknesses?"
SC's face was a blank slate. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by the wary stillness of a cornered animal. He had made a mistake, a critical error, and he knew it. His mind was racing, calculating probabilities, formulating a response.
"It's my business to know things, General," he said. His voice was smooth, but it lacked its usual conviction. "I was an information broker before my unfortunate incarceration. I dealt in all sorts of classified data."
"Information brokers who deal in that level of military intelligence don't get sent to Tartarus," Kaelen countered, taking a step closer. "They get a quiet visit from the Imperial Security Bureau and a shallow grave. You are not a broker. You are not a common criminal. Every skill you have, from your knowledge of ship schematics to your ability to crack military-grade encryption, screams high-level Imperial training. The question is, for which branch?"
He loomed over the seated SC, his shadow falling across the datapad.
"I have upheld my end of our bargain. I have kept you alive. I have followed your lead. Now you will uphold yours. You promised me the truth. Let's start with a simple one. Who are you?"
SC held Kaelen's gaze for a long moment. A dozen calculations, a dozen possible lies, flickered behind his eyes. Then he gave a small and fake smile.
"You're right, of course. My apologies. I should have been more forthcoming."
He leaned back, affecting an air of casual confession.
"I wasn't a common criminal. I was a consultant for the Imperial Senate's Oversight Committee on military spending. My job was to find inefficiencies, security flaws, backdoors. I was, in essence, a legally sanctioned hacker, paid to test the very systems you command. The Third Army's protocols were a particular project of mine. I found a lot of flaws."
He shrugged, a gesture of self-deprecation.
"Unfortunately, I found a few too many. I uncovered a network of embezzlement that led all the way up to a very powerful senator. He couldn't have me testify, so he had me framed on a trumped-up charge of espionage. And here I am."
It was a clever lie, It was plausible and It explained his skills, his knowledge of Imperial systems, and his presence on Tartarus. It fit the facts perfectly.
It was also, Kaelen was almost certain, a complete fabrication. The story was too neat, too clean. It was a carefully constructed narrative designed to satisfy his questions without revealing a single shred of the real truth.
Kaelen stared at him, his expression unreadable. He knew he was being lied to. He knew SC was still playing a game, manipulating him with a carefully crafted persona.
But he also knew that pushing further would get him nowhere. SC would only retreat behind a new wall of more elaborate lies.
For now, their alliance, fragile as it was, was necessary. He needed SC to reach the Foundry, and SC needed him to survive the journey.
Kaelen stepped back, breaking the confrontation.
"A consultant," he repeated, his voice flat, making it clear he did not believe him, but was willing to let it go for now. "See that your consulting skills get us to our destination. That's all I care about."
He turned and walked back to the cave entrance, resuming his watch. The seed of doubt planted on the prison transport had now taken firm root. SC was not who he claimed to be.
But the time for unmasking him would come later.
First, they had a monster to find, the one behind all of this.