Montana Roads, near West Yellow Stone

The old Chevy's tires hummed against the cracked highway, pine trees stretching tall on either side as the sun hung low over Montana. Cain Mercer sat behind the wheel, his jaw tight as the radio murmured static. The passenger seat was stacked with manila folders, papers, and one framed photo he couldn't stop glancing at. It was him and Elias, years younger, each holding up fat largemouth bass with ridiculous grins plastered across their faces. Elias' arm was slung around him, proud, as if that fishing trip had been a war they'd won together.

The lawyer's voice crackled from Cain's phone on the dashboard speaker. The lawyer was Jessica Miller, shes been a family friend for years, helping Elias with any legal matters and issues, such as a small land dispute between Elias and a man who thought he owned the land cause he had an RV there for almost a month.

"I know this isn't easy Cain, but your grandfather left everything in order," Jessica said over the phone,"he left you the cabin, the land, even his military pension. He wanted it simple, nothing messy like everyone else tries to do."

Cain let out a long sigh, rubbing his thumb against the steering wheel. He knew what she meant, one of his friends had to deal with a family matter that lasted for a whole year before they got anything from their parents death. Cain was lucky Elias knew what to do, and thanks to Jessica, they managed to handle the legal bull Cain would had to deal with for months

"Yeah simple, nothing screams simple like a nineteen-year-old inheriting a dead man's house and bills," Cain said

Jessica chuckled softly, more out of sympathy than amusement. She knew Cain was hurting in the inside, his sarcasm was a defense mechanism to hide his pain and anger. Elias was the only family Cain had since his parents died in a car accident when he was 6, Elias was more a father to him than a grandfather.

"He always said you were more mature than your age," Jessica said,"and you know Elias, he trusted you to handle things. He trusted you more than anyone, goes to show how much he loved you."

Cain looked at the photo again, the smile on his younger face compared to the knot in his chest now.

"Yeah, trusted me to catch fish and grab him beer outta the fridge," Cain said with a chuckle,"but I guess I should've paid more attention to the paperwork lessons."

The lawyer didn't push further, knowing Cain knew everything he needed to know. Just the sound of pages flipping on her Call end of the call, Jessica smiled as she gave a finally farewell.

"Take your time Cain, and call me when you're settled in," she said and hanged up

The call ended, leaving only the hum of the Chevy and the whisper of wind through the cracked window. The gravel road wound up into the hills until the trees broke and revealed the cabin. It sat the same way Cain remembered it as a kid, weather-worn logs, a porch sagging a little at the edge, smoke chimney long cold.

The American flag Elias used to hang was gone now, leaving only the bare pole swaying. Cain parked, engine ticking down, and sat there a moment longer with the photo in his hand. He looked at the pole and the giant river beside the cabin, where he caught the large mouth bass in the photo.

"Well, old man, guess it's just me now," he said

He shoved open the truck door and stepped onto the dirt driveway, boots crunching on the gravel. The cabin smelled faintly of pine and smoke even before he walked inside, like the place had soaked Elias into its bones. The front door creaked when he pushed it open, dust floating in the air abit. Inside, the cabin looked like a museum of one man's stubborn hobbies.

Fishing rods lined the walls, lures neatly hung in a case Elias had built himself. The far corner had a woodworking bench cluttered with chisels and a half-finished birdhouse. Old Air Force memorabilia rested on shelves, flight helmets, medals in display cases, a photo of Elias as a young pilot grinning beside his squadron. Cain paused, running his hand over the smooth glass of one of the medals.

"You really did everything, huh," Cain asked the medals, like he was expecting to answer him,"fished, built toys and flew jets. And now you're making me clean it all up."

He walked deeper, into the small living room. The recliner Elias always sat in was still angled toward the window, as if waiting for him to side down with a beer in hand. The TV remote rested on the armrest, duct-taped where Elias had once broken it in a fit of frustration over a football game where Montana lost against Tennessee.

Cain smiled faintly at the memory, he had to duck from the throw or get a bump on the head. The kitchen was still stocked with cans of beans, boxes of instant potatoes, and half-used fishing tackle cluttering the counter. The smell of old coffee lingered in the air, like Elias had only just left the room.

Cain eventually sank onto the couch, photo still in hand, staring around at the cabin. Every wall, every shelf had a memory etched into it. camping trips, backyard cookouts, lazy afternoons when Elias told him stories about "the good old days" while Cain pretended not to care but listened anyway.

For a long while, Cain just sat there, remembering the laughter, the stubborn lectures, the way Elias could turn even a busted lawnmower into an adventure. And now the silence filled every corner of the cabin, which unsettled him more than anything. Cain set the photo down on the coffee table, leaned back, and closed his eyes as he drifted to sleep.

"Big shoes to fill, old man," he mumbled,"really big shoes."

The only answer was the creak of the cabin and the whisper of wind outside. A few hours later Cain woke up the next morning with sunlight pouring through the cabin's blinds, dust swirling like lazy snow in the beams. He had spent the night half-slouched on the couch, boots still on, a blanket he didn't remember pulling over himself. The photo of him and Elias sat on the coffee table, watching him like a ghost.

"Alright...might as well get this over with," he said

He pushed himself up, rolled his shoulders, and got to work on cleaning up. The cabin was exactly as Elias had left it: cluttered, dusty, and stubbornly organized in a way only he understood. Cain grabbed an old rag and started wiping surfaces, coughing as clouds of dust puffed up.

Fishing rods went back on hooks. Wood chisels were lined neatly on the workbench. A pile of unopened mail, mostly bills and flyers, was gathered onto the kitchen counter. Cain muttered to himself as he worked through the massive pile, many were notes from his friends in service, some of Cains old high school report cards and old newspapers he collected.

"Yeah thanks, Grandpa," Cain said,"leave me the cabin and three years of dust and paper work. Real thoughtful of ya."

Everywhere he turned, there was some reminder of Elias' quirks. A jar of screws sorted meticulously by size, a stack of half-completed crossword books, with only the words related to planes and fishing filled in. Even the recliner had spare coins stuffed down the cushions, like Elias had used it as his own personal bank vault. He was pretty sure he found a coin dated back when Kennedy was president

"You were one weird old man," Cain  said as he shook his head, smirking faintly.

By midday, Cain had made real progress in the clean up, almost restoring it back to what it looked like. The floor was clear, the dishes washed and stacked in the cabinets, the tools arranged. It almost looked livable again, he leaned on the broom, sweat on his brow, scanning the cabin like he was expecting Elias to come back.

Then his eyes landed on the bedroom, the door had been shit since he arrived. He hadn't stepped foot in there yet, he was a little scared to go in there, thinking that if he walked in there he would see his grandfather lying there, where he died. Cain remembered when he use to sleep with him in the same bed as a kid, when he had nightmares or just wanted to be with him

With a sigh, Cain nudged the door open slowly with his hand. The bedroom smelled faintly of cedar and old aftershave, the same brand he always used. The bed was neatly made, Elias' military habits never left him, but dust coated the nightstand and dresser. Cain started with the obvious tasks, folding some shirts, stacking old books, throwing away a cracked lamp bulb.

When he bent to shove a storage bin further under the bed, his fingers brushed something else, something tucked deep against the wall. He pulled it out to see it t was a stack of envelopes, tied loosely with twine. Cain sat on the floor and laid against the bed, brushing dust off the bundle, and froze when he recognized his own handwriting.

He untied the twine and thumbed through them to see it was letters, dozens of them. Every one he'd sent Elias during his short time at college before dropping out. Cain's throat tightened as he read the postmarks. He remembered writing some of them, clumsy updates about classes, jokes about cafeteria food, scribbles about girls he never really dated.

"...You kept them, every single one," he said with a smile

He sat there for a long moment, reading bits and pieces, his younger voice echoing back at him in the scrawled words. Elias hadn't just kept them; they were worn, creased, some with faint coffee stains. He'd read them, and by the look of it, he probably did more than once. Cain swallowed hard, blinking away the burn in his eyes, wiping the tears threatening to come out

When he reached the bottom of the stack, his fingers brushed something heavier. He pulled out a small metal box about the size of a shoebox. Unlike everything else in the cabin, this was sleek, modern, and completely out of place. Its surface was smooth steel, edges seamless and felt lighter than what one might think. On the front was a small rectangular screen, dead black but faintly reflective.

Cain turned it over, frowning as he had never seen anything like this. Way to high tech for Elias, he only knew how to use a phone to check up on Cain or set schedules for his doctor visits. Everything else in the cabin was standard, no computer, IPad or anything like that. So seeing this felt way outta place for Elias, this almost felt foreign

"What the hell are you," he asked the box

He tapped the screen with his thumb. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the display flickered to life with a dim blue glow, then a robotic voice spoke up, with a calm and neutral tone.

"Authorization required: Please place fingerprint for access," the automated message said

Cain jerked his hand back, nearly dropping the box between his legs.

"...Okay nope," Cain said,"okay Grandpa, what kinda spy movie crap were you into?"

He looked around the room, half-expecting cameras to drop from the ceiling. The screen pulsed faintly, waiting for him to touch it to open the box. He looked around, then back at the box as he looked again and saw it needed his index finger.

"Fingerprint, okay, but what happens if I don't," Cain asked,"you gonna explode in my face? Or summon the Men in Black?"

"Authorization required: Place fingerprint for access," the voice repeated, unfazed by his questions

Cain stared at it a long moment, suspicion warring with curiosity. His sarcasm gave way to a nervous chuckle, but he was a little terrified of what it can do if he didn't do it. But well, he had nothing else to do, he decided to see what it was...cause if his grandfather left it for him , must be important.

"If this thing electrocutes me, I'm gonna find your ass in the afterlife old man," he said

He pressed his finger to the screen, a blue line going up and down, scanning his finger. The light pulsed brighter, then soon a tone beeped followed and soon the screen displayed on the front.

"Mercer Lineage: Confirmed," the voice saidm"Authorization Granted."

The box hissed softly as hidden locks form the inside disengaged. Cain sat there, frozen in place, heart pounding, staring as the lid began to creak open.

"...Grandpa...what the hell did you leave me," Cain asked

The lid of the metal box hissed fully open, releasing a faint scent of oil and cedar, which was definitely Elias' smell, somehow captured inside. Cain leaned closer, expecting to see some paperwork, cash Elias saved over the years or all the badges Elias earned after his time in service. But instead, there were three items laid neatly on a black felt lining, with a folded envelope resting on top.

Cain picked up the  envelope, opening it and looked at the contents, showing it was a letter addressed to Cain. He looked at it and saw it was Elias' handwriting, it was shaky, older, but unmistakable. It was his grandfathers writing, he had seen this writing dozens of times from the times Elias sent him letters

"Cain,

If you're reading this, then I've already left this world behind. Don't waste your grief on this forever,  I had a full life, more than most men ever get, and you were the best part of it.

You know me as your grandfather, but there are things I never told you. Things I kept from everyone, even family. I wasn't just retired Air Force, I was something else. I was a Cargo Runner, in short I transported cargo around the galaxy. The first human to ever join the Guild. Since 1947, I've flown further than any Earth pilot had a right to. I carried food to starving colonies, medicine to plague worlds, and, sometimes, the kind of cargo no one else dared to touch.

It was my honor, and my burden. And now, Cain, it's yours.

Inside this box you'll find three things: my Guild Seal, its proof that you are now recognized by the Guild; my sidearm, the pistol that kept me alive in more fights than I can count; and finally, a key. It may look like a chip, but it isn't just a piece of hardware. It's the ignition and access to my ship. The Red Jackal. She's old, stubborn, and ugly, but she'll carry you through hell if you respect her. Treat her like family. She'll feel like one soon enough.

If you choose not to follow this path, walk away. Burn the Seal, sell the pistol, throw the key in the lake. But if you choose to take it up - remember the Cargo Code. The Haul is Sacred. It'll cost you more than you can imagine. But it's worth it.

No matter what you decide... I'm proud of you. Always have been. Always will be.

- Elias Mercer"

Cain sat back on the bed, the letter shaking slightly in his hand. He laughed once, harsh and disbelieving as he can't believe the stuff he read. He doubled read it, checking the words again and again to make sure this wasn't a joke.

"Cargo Runner, guilds, starships," Cain asked,"Grandpa, what the hell were you smoking out here? Must've been some good shit if you came up with this."

But when he looked back at the box, the weight in his chest only grew and curiosity taken hold in him. He opened the lid again and checked out the contents inside it.

The first thing Cain lifted was a compact pistol, sleek and angular, its barrel lined with faint scorch marks from years of use. It felt solid, heavy, well-balanced, the kind of weapon you could trust. It almost looked like an oversized Glock 17, but the barrel was a bit bulkier and had what he though was a power cell on the back. He thumbed the grip and found Elias' initials scratched into the side.

"Figures, you never could stop upgrading or adding your personal touch on something," Cain said

Next was a small metallic emblem, the so called Guild Seal. Circular, etched with alien markings and the image of a ship flying through a starburst. It shimmered faintly as if reacting to his touch. He also saw that it looked like it reacted to his touch, it was grey when he pulled it out but now it shimmered and turned into a sage green.

"So this is your big secret club membership card, huh Gramps," Cain asked with a chuckle,"wonder if it gets me into clubs for free."

Finally, he picked up the chip. About the size of a phone, not to think but one end was a bit thicker, smooth on the sides with a crystalline core. It pulsed faintly with light, like it was alive. Cain turned it over in his hand, baffled by it as he had never seen anything like it. He heard rumors from the engineers or tech heads when he was in college, that one day vehicles could be activated by something similar

"Okay, definitely not a car key, but gramps did say it was a key to the ship," Cain said

He set it all carefully back in the box, letter on top, then rubbed his hands over his face. He was confused, conflicted as he was so taken back by this, he had a hard time believing that aliens were real? And that his grandfather was supposedly a part of an organization that handled transport of goods across the galaxy? He needed to learn more, he needed to speak to someone about this

"So what do I do now," Cain asked himself,"just...grab a spaceship and start delivering alien Amazon packages? This is fucking insane."

Before he could spiral further, a sound cut through the cabin. Three distinct knocks on the door, making  Cain freeze as he looked at the door. It wasn't the polite knock of a neighbor. It was steady, deliberate, official, meaning they weren't here to borrow sugar

Slowly, he set the box aside and stood, heart thumping in his chest as he didn't want to lose this. Through the cabin's dusty window he could see two figures standing on the porch, both wore black suits, white shirts, black ties and sunglasses. Even in the shade of the cabin's awning, making Cain stare at them, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"...You have got to be kidding me," Cain said

He stepped to the door, letter still in his hand behind his back, and pulled it wide open for the two. The two agents stood there like statues, their expressions unreadable behind the shades. One of them spoke, voice flat but professional, but the accent was a bit different. Cain placed it as British, he was taken back a bit, but stood his ground as he waited for them to move

"Cain Mercer, we wish to speak with you," the British agent said

Cain blinked at them, then let out a short laugh, shaking his head at this.

"Let me guess, Agents J and K," Cain asked

The taller one tilted his head slightly, clearly not amused by Cains poke at them. But the Brit just chuckled a bit, clearly a little amused by the joke, understanding Cain needed something to stay grounded, and humor was one of them. Cain leaned against the doorframe, smirk tugging at his lips despite the churn in his chest and the rate his heart was beating.

"Sorry, but you two do look like Men in Black," Cain said and waved them in,"but come on in, let's hear the sales pitch."

The two men stepped into the cabin with the quiet confidence of people who'd been in stranger places than this. Their suits looked freshly pressed despite the Montana dust. One of them, the taller and broad-shouldered one, slipped his sunglasses into his pocket. The Brit left his on, scanning the cabin with the detachment of a man who catalogued everything he saw.

Cain shut the door behind them, then he walked to his grandfathers recliner, sitting down and arms crossed. Looking at them as they took seats on the couch.

"So, you guys just knock on grieving kids' doors and ask to talk," Cain said,"nice bedside manner."

The Brit one cracked a faint grin.

"My name's Agent Hale, this is Agent Brooks," Hale, the Brit said,"and we're with DELT, which stands for Division for Extraterrestrial Logistics and Trade. And no, we're not here to bust you, and yes you never heard of it before cause we kinda don't exist to the wider public. We're here because your grandfather left you a job."

Cain raised an eyebrow, half amused, half wary at this.

"Yeah, I got the memo," Cain said,"the Cargo Runner job, whatever that means. But let's start simple, what the hell happened in 1947? You know, Roswell? Because that's about the last conspiracy theory I haven't rolled my eyes at and something my grandfather mentioned in the letter."

Brooks, the quieter one, finally spoke up. His voice was calm, matter-of-fact like, giving an aura of a professional soldier, must be a former one.

"What happened in 1947 wasn't a weather balloon, it was a a real alien ship, a damaged freighter," Brooks said,"the pilot belonged to the Guild, the Cargo Runners. Your grandfather was one of the first men on the recovery team. After helping the pilot and being informed of the wider galactic situation, Elias couldn't help but want to join up."

Cain blinked, then laughed once, shaking his head as he expected that from his grandfather. He always jumped at opportunities to do something other then stay in once place at a time.

"So Grandpa was the first human FedEx in space," Cain asked,"so you're saying Roswell was just delivery gone wrong?"

"Not far off, the Guild isn't smugglers, they're a neutral transport network for the species," Hale said,"Cargo Runners keep economies alive, move medicine, food, weapons, whatever's contracted. They live by a Code, and Elias was one of the best to ever fly."

Cain glanced at the letter in his hand, hearing his grandfather's words echo again. He remembered stories his grandfather use to ramble on about things Cain always thought was a wild imagination or Elias losing his sanity as he grew older. But now Cain was thinking, was everything his grandfather told him were actual true missions his grandfather told him?

"Alright, so what's DELT's role in all this," Cain asked

"DELT was formed after contact was made, we manage Earth's relationship with the Guild," Brooks said,"oversight, cooperation, and making sure no one nation gets to monopolize alien tech or trade. Think of us like Earth's representative office, where we basically make sure no illegal items arrive on Earth."

"Great, so you're middlemen for the Earth. Space lawyers in fancy suits, kinda?"

"We prefer 'ambassadors', but sure, space lawyers works," Hale said with a chuckle

Cain ran a hand through his hair, then he stood up and started pacing a bit as the questions tumbled out of him. This was to much for him, he was learning more about his grandfather and the world, when he was mourning the loss of the only family he had left. But he rubbed his face and looked at the ceiling, thinking of the memories and the joy his gramps seem to have

"Alright so let me get this straight, the Guild's real, aliens are real," Cain said,"ships, trade lanes, and a whole intergalactic UPS service. Why keep it a secret?"

"Because humanity wasn't ready in 1947," Brooks said,"some would panic, some would weaponize it, some would tear each other apart fighting for scraps. The Guild doesn't deal with divided planets. They deal with unified governments, so that's why DELT exists, a neutral, UN-style branch."

"Huh, so all the years I heard 'don't trust the government' and here you are telling me Grandpa was running intergalactic DoorDash while the rest of us were still arguing about Wi-Fi speeds and Kardashians?"

Hale smirked, but his tone stayed level.

"Your grandfather believed in fairness, he helped convince the Guild to trust humanity," Hale said,"that's why they accepted him. And now they're willing to accept you. If you choose to do it."

Cain looked at them and then looked at the open box again, the pistol, the Seal and the strange glowing key. Then his eyes slid to the photo on the coffee table: him and Elias, fishing poles in hand, grinning like idiots with their bass catches. For a long moment, he just stared at it, silence stretching heavy in the cabin.

"...Eh screw it, don't have any plans for the future anyway," he said,"let's do this."

Hale's grin widened, genuine this time. He was glad to see Cain take the chance, he had knew Elias for years, so seeing his grandson take the mantle of Cargo Runner made him happy. He stood up and straightened his suit, as did Brooks who pulled out a phone and tapped the screen, then putting it to his ear

"Glad to hear that, kid," Hale said,"now grab your stuff, we will need to head to the airport to take you to base."

Cain squinted, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

"A plane, where we going, Area 51," Cain asked with a chuckle

The two agents exchanged the smallest of smirks, knowing and unspoken. Cain's brows shot up high in the air, not believing what he was not hearing.

"...I WAS JOKING!"

Neither agent said a word, but Brooks had a small smile on his face, now clearly amused by Cains reaction.. Hale just gestured toward the door, where Cains saw a black SUV waiting for the,. Cain let out a groan, grabbing his jacket and the metal box from the bedroom.

"Of course, should've known," Cain said,"now this is how the horror movie starts."

The agents said nothing, just opened the door for him, letting the Montana sunlight pour in. Cain stepped out behind them, muttering under his breath as they crossed the gravel ground to the SUV.

"Yeah, Grandpa, real funny old man," Cain said,"you better be laughing wherever you are."

The key pulsed faintly in his pocket as if it already knew where he was headed.

Timeskip

The plane ride had been long, loud, and bumpy. Cain sat in the back of the Air Force transport, arms crossed, glaring at the rattling ceiling panels. Hale and Brooks sat across from him in their perfectly pressed suits, calm as statues. Hale was tapping his foot as he watched Cain bump to the ride, while Brooks read some files on his lap.

"You know, I was picturing some high-tech UFO shuttle," Cain said,"not whatever this death trap is. My chiropractor's gonna love me after this, my back not so much."

Hale just smirked, while Brooks didn't even glance up from the file he was reading. Hours later, the desert stretched out beneath them, endless sand and jagged mountains under a blistering sun of the Nevada desert. The plane banked, lowering toward what looked like just another United States Air Force installation. Cain leaned to the window and blinked, as he knew where this was thanks to his Grandfather.

"Wait a second, that's Nellis Air Force base," Cain said,"you gotta be kidding me, we're really at Area 51?"

The transport descended, touching down on the runway, the engines whining as the tires screeched against asphalt. Cain's boots hit the tarmac a moment later, and the dry Nevada heat slapped him in the face. He squinted at the sign on a nearby hangar, seeing a mass of Air Force personnel and soldiers, fighters stationed all around him.

"Nellis Air Force Base," Cain said in both excitement and amazement,"you mean to tell me Area 51 was actually real this whole time? You didn't even bother changing the name or hide it?"

"To the public it's just Nellis, always has been," Hale said with a chuckle,"but within DELT, this is Base Theta-4, our American branch headquarters."

"Theta-4, sounds fancy. Lemme guess, Theta-1 through 3 are other bases connected to the DELT?"

"Indeed, Theta-1 is in Geneva, Theta-2 is in New Delhi, Theta-3 is in Tokyo," Brooks said as he nodded his head,"there global branches of DELT. But this one is where it started it all."

They walked toward a large hangar, the desert wind tugging at Cain's jacket. Hale decided to feel Cain in as they went, his tone casual, almost like a history teacher.

"After Roswell in 1947, your grandfather wasn't the only one there," Hale said,"the U.S. military found the wreck, and with it, proof of extraterrestrial life. Panic was avoided because the truth was buried. But in secret, treaties were drawn with the The Guild. They told Earth: unify, or you'll never be part of the network."

"Okay so the U.S. government just nodded and played along," Cain asked,"something like this sounds way to huge to keep to one government."

"Indeed, it's not just the U.S., but the U.N. Also got involved," Hale said,"that's why DELT was founded. An international division, not tied to one flag, country or nation. Neutral oversight and cooperation, the Guild respected that as they work with unified governments."

"And people call it Area 51 because why," Cain asked

"Because it was easier to let the rumors spin out of control," Brooks explained,"flying saucers, lizard people, crop circles, misinformation was our best cover. Nobody ever believed the real truth was this simple. Besides, trying hard to hide what exists is harder, but letting it run wild is easier."

"Okay so intergalactic truckers with a Code of Honor. Real bedtime story stuff, but better then the 'Don't do what we say, we will blow up the Earth' shit. Seriously it's so overrated."

"Agreed," Hale said,"but thanks to your grandfather, we managed to learn and understand the galaxy faster than we could have gained in the centuries ahead of us."

"Okay, so quick question, was my grandfather really the only Human Cargo Runner?"

"At first yes, but over the years other humans have trained and joined the Guild over the years. Last I remember, there has been over 231 Human Cargo Runners since 1947."

"Many were recruited from the Air Force due to their skills in flight and navigation," Brooks said,"handpicked and scanned by our own to see if they had the ability and skills to keep up."

"Okay makes sense, don't want to pick someone who ends up being a space pirate or ruining humanities reputation with the Guild. But I doubt that stayed consistent throughout the years huh?"

"Unfortunately yes," Hale said with a sigh, almost felt like disappointment,"over the years some Cargo Runners went to the dark side, doing nasty deeds for wealth or thinking they can do it all on their own. We'll explain more once we head down."

"Down," Cain asked

They reached the hangar, where two soldiers in full gear stood waiting. Once they got close, Hale and Brooks showed them badges, with their names, identification numbers and a set of strange barcodes. One of the soldiers grabbed a small device from the side and scanned the codes, then once the screen turned green, he nodded at them.

Then Hale swiped a keycard, then soon massive doors rumbled open, and Cain's sarcasm froze on his lips. Hey he can crack jokes, but this was something so cool he wanted to stay silent and watch. Inside, was a elevator, soon they got in and Hale tapped a button, and soon they doors closed and they went down, and it lasted a few minutes until the doors opened

And soon Cain was meet with a massive hangar filled with ships, not regular skips, but real life alien ships. Sleek freighters, beetle-like haulers, chrome-winged transports. Some floated gently on grav-pads, others sat half-disassembled under floodlights, human and alien engineers working side by side. Sparks rained as welding torches hissed, voices in a dozen different languages, some not human, filled the cavernous space.

"..Okay I take it back," Cain said,"this is actually insane."

A group of lizard-skinned aliens passed, chatting in guttural clicks, carrying crates toward a loading bay. A towering beetle-like alien lumbered past, nodding politely as Cain stared. Then a humanoid robot with glowing eyes walked briskly by, carrying datapads and a grav hover pad float behind it. Cain watch it walk by, seeing no skin on it and a glowing chest

"That was a walking robot, like holy shit a living robot," Cain asked in shock,"I thought seeing the giant ass bug guy walking through was gonna be the weirdest shit I've seen today."

Hale snorted a chuckle out then smirked, patting him on the shoulder.

"Welcome to Theta-4," Hale said,"this is what your grandfather's been part of since before you were born."

They led Cain deeper through polished corridors humming with quiet machinery. At the end of a wide hall lined with flags from every DELT member nation, double doors slid open to reveal a large office overlooking the hangar below.

Inside stood a man in his sixties, tall and lean, with neatly combed silver hair and a sharp suit that screamed authority. His presence carried the kind of weight only long service could. Cain looked around the room, seeing pictures ranging from the 1970s to modern day, showing a young man standing alongside fighter jets, and what Cain can only assume was alien ships

The man look turned as they entered, he placed his paper down and stood up. Then walked to Cain and offered his hand, which Cain accepted and could feel the man's muscles, definitely wasn't a desk jockey.

"Cain Mercer, I was hoping I'd meet you sooner rather than later, and under better circumstances," the man said,"I'm Director-General Samuel Walker, DELT - U.S. branch, and commander of Base Theta-4."

Cain, still trying to process the alien engineers below, managed a crooked smirk.

"Nice office," Cain said,"lemme guess, you've got a secret button that drops me into a water tank filled with sharks with laser beams attached to their heads if I say no?"

Walker chuckled, shaking his head at the boys sense of humor.

"No sharks, too cliché and the laser beams would cost me 20 pensions," Walker said,"but your grandfather always said you had his mouth. And just from speaking to you, you got his stubborn streak."

"Yeah, well, Grandpa also said I had his fishing skills," Cain said,"but that old fossil still managed to out-fished me every time."

Walker's smile softened, with the agents managing a small chuckle. Walker nodded to the two, making them nod back and walked out, with Walker guiding to the desk and offered him in a job opposite of him. Cain looked at the mans desk and saw a bunch of paper work, along with some small device that looked like a vape pen and a photo of a beautiful women with grey hair

Walker sat down and grabbed two cans of sodas from his desk, giving one to Cain and one for himself. They opened their cans and sipped, as Walker leaned back, sighing a bit of relief as he laid back into his chair.

"I'm gonna be straight with ya kin, Elias Mercer was more than just a Runner," Walker said,"he was proof that humanity could stand with the Guild as equals. He built bridges that still stand today. And now, the Guild has accepted you to take up his Seal and his ship. This is not a decision we push on you, Cain. This is a choice and yours alone."

Cain leaned against the edge of the desk, looking down at the ships bustling in the hangar below. His fingers brushed the letter in his pocket, Elias' words echoing in his head: "The Haul is Sacred."

"Well from just looking at of this, I don't really have a choice, do I," Cain asked solemnly

"You always have a choice Cain," walker said,"but something tells me you've already made yours."

Cain sighed, pulling the fishing photo from his jacket pocket. He stared at it one last time before tucking it away. Then he downed his drink, sighing as he looked at the man.

"Is it alright I ask some questions of my own," Cain asked

"Go ahead, I figured you have some," Walker said

"When my grandfather decided to become a Cargo Runner, why did he do it? I mean he had massive amounts of ADHD energy and loved to stay working, but this is...well batshit insane."

"Hehehe your not wrong about, took me years to get use to the idea that I would be working with aliens, I mean was just a youngester when the first Alien movie came out. But to answer your question Cain, I believe that he may have found...his calling when joining the Guild."

"Calling?"

"Did he ever tell you he joined the military right after high school," Walker asked, with Cain nodding,"well he always felt like the normal life of humanity just didn't feel right to him, like he felt so bored here. When 1947 came around and we had first contact with the Guild, he was so ecstatic he couldn't keep his hands off the ship for more than 2 minutes."

"Sounds like him," Cain said with a chuckle

"Well when he first went out to train to be a Runner, he always messaged that he felt more alive when he was out there. In the vast dark space, in a pilots seat, going from one star system to the next and seeing what beauty or horrors it held. To him, being a Runner and helping others in neat felt like he was born to do it."

Cain looked at his hands, rubbing them as he scars he had suddenly felt like they had more weight than ever. He looked at the letter and remembered he use to feel the same, no matter what he did he never felt like it fit him, didn't feel right. The closest thing was engineering, but he thought that was cause his grandfather was, he felt like it fit him more then anything

He looked down at the ships, seeing the alien races and humans work together on fixing ships, drones or whatever else was done there. He then had a thought, he looked at Walker as he rubbed his hands

"You said my grandfather was there since the beginning," Cain said,"so I take it that he is basically a founder?"

"He was, he even set most of the training regiments we use to this day to train," Walker said,"he set the foundations of what we do today, he was an amazing man, and he loved you very much."

Cain looked at the people again, his heart pounding as he thought it over. He sighed as he sipped his drink and looked at the Director.

"Okay...I'm in," Cain said,"if my grandfather thought I could handle it and gave me the chance to do this, I won't fail him. It's the least I can do for the man who pretty much did so cool, I can't pass it up."

"Glad to hear that Cain," Walker said with a smile,"now let's invite Hale and Brooks back in, we should go over the basics before we do thew tour."

Cain leaned against the polished desk as Director-General Walker moved to a console on the wall. With a flick of his hand, the office window dimmed, becoming a display screen. Dozens of symbols and logos appeared, planets, corporations, and finally, the Guild's insignia: a starburst surrounding a freighter in flight. Soon Hale and Brooks came back in, cups of coffee in hands

"The Cargo Runners Guild is a neutral, independent trade organization, and older than most of our recorded history," Walker said,"they're not soldiers or smugglers, they're transporters hired by corporations, independents or private contractors. The Guild lives by the Cargo Code, and that's what separates them from the syndicates and the cutthroats."

Hale stepped up beside Walker, hands clasped behind his back, his tone more casual then usual.

"Think of them like intergalactic truckers with a union," Hale said,"only the union has teeth, and the trucks can burn holes in a starship hull."

"Okay so UPS with laser cannons," Cain said,"so if they're this big, no doubt they handle with big shit?"

"Indeed, the Guild is vital to the wider galaxy," Walker said,"planets rely on them, governments contract them and some corporations bribe them. And when your grandfather swore the oath, he made sure humanity had a seat at the table."

"Alright, so it's like an interstellar neighborhood watch with shipping crates?"

"It's bigger than that, and the Guild isn't just humans," Hale said,"you'll be working alongside a dozen races, all with their own ways of doing things."

Walker tapped the console again, with images shifting across the screen, each accompanied by a symbol. Hale narrated, gesturing as the holograms flickered between alien figures. It showed a bunch of humanoid beings, with color skins ranging from teal to black, with their ears more pointed and sharp at the top. Wearing a random assortment of clothes, some looking like normal people while some looking like royalty you see in sci-fi movies

"First are the Vehlari, they look close enough to human," Hale said,"they're a but taller then average humans, colorful skin tones, pointed ears. Traders by nature, charismatic, sharp-tongued, and don't trust them in a poker game."

Cain studied the projection of a violet-skinned woman with glinting eyes.

"Great, so they're space elves," Cain said,"so do they also charge double rent and complain about tourists?"

Walker ignored him and swiped again.

"Next, the Korthan, the rhino beetle humanoids you saw when you entered," Walker said,"thick shells, stronger than most exosuits. They're mostly miners, laborers and frontline fighters, if one bumps into you at a Guild Hall, apologize first. Trust me."

Cain's eyebrows shot up at the image of a hulking, armored insectoid carrying a cargo container like it weighed nothing.

"Yeah, no problem, I rather no die while looking like a dumbass," Cain said

Hale smirked before shifting the display again, as Brooks chuckled a bit as he read his papers. Then Hale showed an image of a bipedal reptilian, some working on equipment, farming and fighting in combat with laser rifles blasting at something.

"These are the  S'relith, the reptilian species," Hale said,"cold-blooded, but not in the way you're thinking. Pragmatic, farmers and colonists, but they'll gut you in a fight if pushed against the corner."

The projection showed a tall lizard being with smooth scales and piercing eyes, wearing a tank top, a vest and baggy pants to allow his tail to be free. Cain tilted his head, they kinds reminded him of the Trandoshans from George Lucas Star Wars, but the S'relith had long snouts.

"Reminds me of the Trandoshans from Star Wars," Cain said

"Oh they're what inspired Lucas," Brooks said

"...I'm sorry what?"

"Thats a conversation for another day," Walker said, then showed a picture of massive rats with wrenches

"Da hell, they look like Skaven," Cain said

"Those are the Ravik, ratfolk," Hale said,"they're small, fast and cunning as hell. Half scavengers and half entrepreneurs. If it's missing, a Ravik probably sold it back to you with a markup."

"Sounds like half the kids in my dorm."

Finally, Walker tapped the display, and a humanoid machine appeared, polished metal frame, glowing eyes, movements precise. Soon more appeared and all they are were blueprints, schematics and lists of what he can only presume were makeup and clothing choices.

"And the Solarii, they're not built, hey're self-replicating intelligences, basically they're made like assemblies," Walker said,"they run the galactic banking system, and no one dares cross them."

"So the galaxy's biggest accountants are walking calculators and more intelligent,," Cain said and nodded,"okay thats terrifying."

The window cleared, showing the hangar again, then Walker gestured toward the door.

"Come, best way to understand is to see it for yourself," Walker said

They led Cain back into the massive hangar, everyone busy at work. Engineers worked under floodlights, sparks flying as welding torches sang and hammering echoed through the hall. Cain walked between towering freighters, cranes hauling crates overhead, voices of alien crews shouting over the din. He looked at one massive ship, which looked like its been through hell,

Hale pointed discreetly at it as they walked by.

"That's a Korthan bulk-hauler, nearly indestructible and one was recorded destroying an entire fleet," Hale said, then pointed to another,"over there's a Vehlari courier, sleek, fast, burns fuel like candy. And in that bay, Ravik retrofitters taking apart human engines and making them somehow worse, but cheaper."

Cain muttered under his breath, gawking like a tourist, he couldn't stop looking at everything. He saw a S'erlith engineer working on a what he was assuming was a fighter from the S'erlith homeworld. A couple of Solarii speaking with some humans as they had a table littered with green chips with a diamond on it.

"What are those," Cain asked

"Lumens, it's the galactic currency," Brooks said,"it was established when humanity was still fish. It was many when many races went to war over specific planets rich in resources they all need. Plus the fact they all had different currencies and traditions, it made it difficult to set on a finale price range."

"Lasted for 200 years, then once all sides were exhausted, the Solarii came and established a common system were the races can buy, trade and sell without complications," Hale said,"and its been holding steady since then, even evolved over the years."

"Sheesh, after hearing that I feel like I walked into a space flea market run by NASA and Star Wars," Cain said with a smile

As they passed, a Solarii unit strode by with datapads stacked in its arms. Its head rotated slightly toward Cain, it had a face but it looked like it was changed in seconds till it stopped, it wore a navy blue uniform and held a datapad in its hand. Its eyes, all blue but with a white iris in the middle, blinked a few times before it spoke in a mechanical voice

"Mercer designation confirmed," it said,"Debt status: none. Credit rating: acceptable."

"Did that...thing just check my credit score," Cain asked as he stared at it, while Hale smirked without looking back.

"Get used to it, they do that to everyone," Hale said,"said my rating was semi-acceptable."

"Okay that feels like a massive invasion of privacy. Hey Agent Brooks, what about you?"

"...I don't want to talk about it," Brooks said, suddenly finding the ceiling more interesting

Finally, they stopped before one of the docking bays, sealed behind a heavy blast door. Hale keyed a code into the panel. The doors groaned and slid open, and there it was.

The Red Jackal.

She wasn't sleek like the Vehlari ships, nor hulking like the Korthan haulers. The Jackal was scarred steel and stubborn angles, her crimson hull faded to rust in places but still proud. Laser turrets jutted from her flanks, scorch marks crisscrossing the plating. Her nose sloped down like a predator ready to strike, and her engines, though patched, still gleamed faintly with power.

Cain stepped forward slowly, eyes wide despite himself. He walked to it, his hands moved up and rubbed against the hull, feeling the scorch marks and the rugged surface. He looked it up and down, and for a mere moment, he thought he saw his grandfather walk by him, running his hand on the side as he looked at Cain and smiled. Then vanished, making Cain year up a bit, but he rubbed them away as he smiled again

"...She's beautiful," Cain said as he rubbed the hull

"Your grandfather flew the Jackal for nearly five decades," Walker said,"every haul, every fight and every scar, she earned all of it. He trusted her with his life, and now, she's yours."

Cain circled the ship, running his hand along the rough plating, feeling every dent and groove. He could almost hear Elias' laughter in the back of his mind, telling him not to scratch the paintjob. He chuckled as he remembered the days fixing up the old Chevy they had, it was Elias before it became Cains. He felt now he was back in the garage, tools in hand and ready to work

"So this is it, huh," Cain asked,"The Red Jackal, grandpa's old rustbucket."

Hale grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Yeah and she was like a partner to your grandpa," Hale said,"treat her right, she'll take you further than you can imagine."

Cain looked back at the ship, then at the Seal and key in his pocket. His smirk faded into something quieter, more determined than ever. All his life he wondered what would he do with his life, and now his grandfather gave him that. A reason, a job and a goal, something he entrusted to Cain to continue what he started all those years

"Guess it's time to see if I can keep her flying," Cain said with a smile

The Red Jackal loomed above him, silent but alive, and waiting for its new Captain.

(And cut! Finally after months of editing, drafting and putting in the finale touches, Cargo Runner has begun!)

(I hope ya enjoy this, this has been probably the most difficult chapter I've ever made in my career on Wattpad. For months I've had this idea rolling in my brain and finally managed to set the stage for this new book, and I am so excited to do more and show ya the galaxy of Cargo Runner!)

(This is inspired by so many science fiction books, so it would take me forever to list them off, I want to give a big thanks to all the writers and books who inspired me to write this!)