Devil at a Crossroads

[Soban]

Freeport 11, Station Block C, Level 7, Secure room 1

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Jonathan activated the armored airlock’s entry mechanism as he received word of his guest’s landing. Making it through the station’s rigorous security checks would take at least fifteen minutes.
Even for him, a Phoenix member, those scans were inescapable.

He looked around to ensure the room was in order. It was spartan, featuring only an oval-shaped table at the center, surrounded by chairs sturdy yet comfortable enough for the lengthy meetings common among Zoners. He sighed, recalling some excruciating sessions in this very room—Zoner independence often complicated matters, even in routine management.

After a quick examination of the furniture, he retrieved a holographic tablet from a sideboard and seated himself opposite the entrance. Adjusting his formal white jacket, he considered the current mood aboard the Freeport: the growing Corsair presence had begun to irritate many residents. With a little more pressure, the militant faction would likely gain enough support to reinstate the ban on Corsair vessels.

Jonathan was eager to meet the enigmatic leader of Group-58, though he couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling. He had no real intelligence on them; they had appeared from nowhere at a critical time, and their few interactions thus far had left him perplexed. Perhaps meeting face to face would clarify their intentions.

The tablet beeped, signaling it had finished processing the necessary data at a perfect timing, as his visitor was on the way.