Alpha Strike: [An Interstellar Weapons Platform’s Guide to Organized Crime] (Book 3 title)

Maria folded the last of her clothes, tools, and travel supplies into her suitcase and shut the lid with a quiet click. She touched a panel on the side, and the case responded with a sharp beep. With a hiss of escaping air, the suitcase flattened, then folded in on itself until it was no larger than a handkerchief. She plucked the strange slab of material from the bed and turned it over in her palm, smirking.

"Not quite as convenient as a storage ring," she murmured, then tucked it into the hem of her robe, "but it'll do."

Then again, it wasn't the first strange thing she'd encountered since coming to the Deep.

In truth, Maria couldn't remember the last time she'd been surprised this often. Not in decades, at the least. No, centuries. The sheer number of revelations over the past few months had left even her jaded self quietly astonished.

She chuckled at the thought.

To say she had been surprised was perhaps putting it lightly. In a matter of weeks, Maria had learned more about biology — and the very possibilities of scientific laws and theories — than she had in centuries of personal study and cultivation. Her offer to accompany the children back to Halirosa hadn't stemmed entirely from her oaths as a healer. If she wanted to pursue some of her more... daring theories, she was going to need access to her primary lab and the specialized equipment there. Not to mention some harder-to-acquire tools besides.

Not that Alpha had bothered to ask much about her reasons.

She smirked again.

Alpha. Now there was another mystery.

She'd long suspected, and only recently confirmed, that the being calling itself 'Alpha' was far more than it seemed. Certainly not a Dungeon Core in the traditional sense. The more she uncovered about him, about his baffling technology and the enigmatic "Federation" he claimed to represent, the more convinced she became. It wasn't as if he tried to hide it very hard, either. Everything Maria had learned was available through the so-called 'Boot Camp' — what the goblin hunters had come to see as Alpha's 'true' dungeon.

Of course, Maria's own trials hadn't been as bloody as theirs... most of the time. Hers were extensive studies followed by intense, near-real simulations that pushed her to her limits. Whether it was treating battlefield wounds as explosions rang in her ears or coordinating chaotic disaster relief efforts, each scenario had tested her resolve, her instincts, and her medical knowledge.

The most memorable had been a scenario that placed her in charge of a sprawling emergency clinic following a major earthquake. Thousands of injured poured in by the hour. Power had failed. Supplies were limited. She'd spent almost no time treating patients herself, instead forced to triage at a strategic level: who would wait, who would be turned away, which doctors to send where. The choices had been brutal. She had been overwhelmed, infuriated, and utterly consumed.

Despite the entire ordeal being nothing more than a complex hallucination conjured by Alpha's machine, something had shifted when she awoke. Subtle at first, like a vibration at the edge of perception, but unmistakable. A piece of her personal Truth had begun to crystallize. After what felt like an eternity of stagnation, she had finally taken a step forward in her cultivation.

Of course, her victory had come with other rewards as well.

Not just technology or medical knowledge, but the history behind them. It was a man she'd read about — a "Sir Isaac Newton" — who once said, "If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." The Federation's philosophy, its technology, its training, even its methodologies, all seemed rooted in that single idea.

Unlike cultivators, who upheld the Lonely Journey...

Unlike mages, who hoarded knowledge like dragons and built their legacies in secret...

The people of the Federation appeared to believe that the greatest virtue was leaving behind one more stepping stone for those who came after.

The idea was so foreign, so utterly at odds with everything she had been taught, that Maria could only come to one conclusion: it wasn't of this world. It had to have come from... somewhere else.

And that was when the pieces began to fall into place. A thousand little inconsistencies, tiny questions that had never quite fit within her worldview. All of it, finally aligning into a truth too clear to ignore.

In the end, though, it hadn't been wild speculation or clever deduction that confirmed it.

It was Alpha himself.

How?

Simple.

She'd asked.

"I don't think I've ever called myself a Dungeon Core, Doctor," the bastard had said, wearing that cheeky smirk of his.

And looking back, Maria realized... he was right.

Oh, he'd let others assume it. He never corrected anyone, never denied it. He even responded to the title. But not once — not once — had Alpha ever actually claimed to be a Dungeon Core.

Naturally, she'd let him have it once she figured that out. Tore into him with the righteous fury of a woman who'd been played. But the strange "AI," as he called himself, had taken her verbal lashing with nothing but good humor.

Maria stood and opened the door to her room, stepping into the back halls of her clinic. Waiting just outside was a nervous young goblin in a white coat, not unlike her own, who straightened the moment he saw her.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Doctor! I… uh, I mean…" His eyes darted around, and he fidgeted with his hands.

Maria folded her arms and gave him a firm look. "What have I told you about speaking clearly? If you can't be confident in your words, how do you expect your patients to have confidence in them?"

The goblin flinched, his shoulders drooping. But after a moment, he drew a steady breath, lifted his chin, and met her eyes.

"Ma'am! I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave the clinic right now!" he said, voice clearer now, though tension still tightened his stance.

Maria arched a brow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh? And why's that?"

His brow furrowed, and he threw an arm toward the main hall. "Why? Ma'am, we're nearing full capacity. The injured adventurers, the handful of surviving bandits, our regulars, here's barely space left. If ever there was a time we needed you here, it's now!"

Maria chuckled softly. "Is that so?" she asked. "Because I seem to recall leaving you with a full roster of dungeon-tested nurses, two capable junior residents you personally helped train, and Alpha's guarantee of assistance if things spiral beyond your control."

"But, Doctor—" he began.

Maria raised a hand, and the goblin stopped mid-word at the look she gave him.

"Who am I speaking to right now?" she asked calmly.

He blinked. "What?"

"I said, who am I speaking to?" she repeated, firmer this time. "Are you Leafseeker? That barely capable wanna-be apothecary who spent an entire week kneeling in front of my door until I agreed to teach him?" Her gaze sharpened, her voice laced with quiet steel. "Or am I speaking to Woundbinder?"

The goblin opened his mouth but hesitated. Words fumbled at the edge of his tongue, but something in Maria's expression froze him mid-stammer. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and straightened. When he looked at her again, there was no hesitation.

"I understand, ma'am. I'll prove I'm worthy of everything you've taught me."

Maria's grin softened, and she let her arms fall to her sides. She reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.

"You don't need to prove anything to me, lad," she said gently. "Prove it to your patients. They're the ones who need to know you're not all talk."

Woundbinder nodded again, sharper this time, and turned to stride back toward the clinic with renewed purpose. As the door swung closed behind him, Maria could already hear his voice rising in command, calling for status reports from the nurses.

Her smirk widened, and she turned in the opposite direction, toward the back exit.

She was sure some of the nurses, or even a few patients, might have wanted to thank her before she left. Maybe ask questions, beg for a final check-up, or try to squeeze one last lesson out of her.

But Maria had never been one for long goodbyes.

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Maggy and Garrelt packed in silence, each consumed by their own thoughts as they moved through the ruined command tent.

Neither spoke, too wrapped up in their own world.

Maggy stole a glance at Garrelt as he sifted through the stack of notes and documents Robert had left behind, gathering every scrap of information he could. Since Robert's betrayal and Bert's collapse, the scout leader's usual detached indifference had hardened into something darker, focused, cold.

Looking back, Maggy realized it was a storm that had been brewing for some time. Ever since Robert began acting oddly. Maybe Garrelt had sensed something on instinct, or maybe he had simply grown tired of the man's leadership. Either way, the dam had finally broken, and now Garrelt was on a mission.

They'd torn the command tent apart between them, overturning crates, unrolling maps, and picking through stacks of paperwork for anything that might expose Robert's link to Icefinger and his criminal ring.

If Robert reached Halirosa first and muddied the waters, this evidence might be the only chance they had to prove what really happened.

Maggy glanced at the entrance. Time was slipping away. Their departure was fast approaching, and she wasn't sure they had enough.

A sudden knock against one of the tent's support poles cut through the quiet. She and Garrelt exchanged a glance. Only a few people would dare interrupt them now.

"Enter," Garrelt called after a pause.

The tent flap rustled open, and Boarslayer stepped inside, broad-shouldered and smirking, with Antchaser close behind in his sleek black armor.

The goblin woman took one look at the chaos around her and folded her arms.

"Well, well. I always suspected something was going on with you two, but really?" She gave a long-suffering sigh, her grin stretching. "Now seems a bit of an inappropriate time. Aren't you supposed to be preparing to leave?"

"E-Excuse me?!" Maggy sputtered, cheeks flushing a vivid pink.

Garrelt raised a brow, sneering. "Please. I don't want to hear that from the most bull-headed woman within a thousand kilometers. Still banging your head against that wall?"

Boarslayer clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes as if she were the picture of patience itself.

Behind her, Antchaser exhaled a sigh and gave a small shake of his head.

Despite the words exchanged, there was no true heat in their voices. Antchaser still wasn't entirely sure what Boarslayer and Garrelt got out of constantly needling each other, but it had become something of a ritual between them. Alpha had once called it 'bonding' and to let them have their inside jokes. Antchaser hadn't fully understood, but he trusted the AI to know what it was talking about.

Still, he figured it was time to steer the conversation back to the point.

"What have you managed to find?" he asked, eyes drifting to the mess of papers spread across the large table.

Garrelt sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "Little to nothing. That bastard must've kept anything important on him at all times. Given how paranoid he got toward the end, maybe he started suspecting the dungeon had eyes on him."

He stepped forward and swept aside a few scattered pages. "Still, there's enough here to prove something was off. Action reports that didn't match up with actual engagements. Supply requests that only make sense in hindsight. Nothing concrete, maybe, but enough to show his story doesn't hold water. I don't think Robert ever imagined his plan would fail. For all his paranoia, the man was still arrogant."

Antchaser nodded quietly, flipping through one of the documents left on the table.

Boarslayer scoffed from the side. "Lotta good that did him. Now he's on the run, and you've got the truth in hand. I might not know much about your fancy Adventurer's Guild, but I can't imagine they'd look kindly on this kind of betrayal."

Garrelt shook his head. "It's not that simple. If Robert reaches Halirosa first, he still has enough clout to muddy the waters. Pull the right strings, make a few veiled threats, and suddenly we're stuck in red tape for weeks. By the time the Guild even considers issuing a warrant, the damage will already be done. If Bert were well enough to send word ahead, maybe things would be different, but…" Garrelt shook his head.

Boarslayer's lips curled into a snarl. "Bureaucratic bullshit." She spat to the side.

Antchaser let out a low chuckle. "Then I guess we just have to make sure you beat him there, don't we?"

Maggy sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I don't see how we can. Maybe if I were a few circles stronger, I could try to teleport us part of the way. But if I were that strong, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. And Robert's already got a several-day lead. Even if he's dragging the other bandits behind him, catching up now feels like a pipe dream."

Antchaser grinned, the corner of his mouth tugging up as he set the paper down.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that. Mr. Alpha actually sent us to find you, too. Said he has… a surprise for you."

Maggy and Garrelt both froze.

Their eyes met.

A beat passed.

The color drained from Maggy's face.

She wasn't sure if she should be excited… or absolutely terrified.