Star Rail: The Imperfect Chaos

4: Fallout Harvest

Just like that, two days had passed since the explosion incident, and the bustling corridors of the Interastral Peace Media's headquarters were just as lively as ever. Nathan, dressed in a black dress shirt and a neatly knotted gray tie, walked leisurely along the corridor, his mind preoccupied with the events that had transpired.

'So much trouble for a bomb that wasn’t even mine,' Nathan mused inwardly, adjusting his thin-rimmed silver glasses. The explosion had certainly thrown a wrench in his plans, drawing more attention than he’d prefer. 'However... the silver lining is clear— I managed to make a strong impression on Topaz, a Stoneheart and someone with real clout in the corporation.'

'The opportunity that provided outweighed the inconveniences.' he reassured himself, placating his mood. 'It is what it is.'

As he rounded the corner, he spotted his destination: the modest office of his superior at Interastral Peace Media. He approached, and, with a casual push, Nathan opened the door and stepped inside.

"Good morning, sir!" Nathan, upon entering, immediately greeted the middle-aged man behind the desk with an amiable smile. Noticing the cup of coffee on the man's desk, Nathan added with amusement, "No sleep? That's a bit unfortunate, innit?"

Oren, a veteran journalist turned media officer with a tired but stern demeanor, glanced up from his datapad and looked at Nathan as if looking at an energetic child. "Morning, Nathan," he sighed. His tone carried a mixture of resignation and mild amusement, as if he’d already predicted Nathan’s next words. "Are you..."

"By the way," Sure enough, it was just as Oren had predicted. His words were cut off as Nathan started speaking with a cunning but innocent smile on his face.

"Listen, about that explosion…" Nathan began, his voice light and conversational. "Do you think I could file for some sort of reimbursement for the incident the other day? You know, for trauma and all that."

As he said this, he feigned distraught as if the explosion had left a traumatic scar in his mind, unhealable by any means other than... money.

Oren rubbed his temples, clearly not surprised by the request. Putting down his datapad, he muttered. "You’re nothing if not consistent, you know that?"

However, he soon sighed helplessly and continued. "Hah... Alright, there’s a protocol for such claims. Fill out the form, submit it to HR— but don’t expect much. They don't hand out credits like candy, you know."

Nathan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a few extra credits, and he nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, sir. I knew you’d understand."

Nathan, as an opportunistic scamp, would never shy away from earning a bit more cash. His dignitity was one thing, but in the face of his most cherished credits, he couldn't help but bend some principles.

"Yeah, yeah," Oren waved him off, clearly used to Nathan's antics. He had known the eccentric recruit long before he had joined the workforce.

However, Nathan soon asked another question, seemingly unsatisfied and relentless with his pursuit. "Alright, boss. Got any new job for me?"

"...as a matter of fact, I do." Oren decided to not waste his energy and gave a direct reply. He then reached into his drawer and pulled out a thin sheet of smart paper, sliding it across the desk toward Nathan.

Nathan, who saw the paper, raised an eyebrow before picking it up and reading it's contents. As he read, Oren's voice reached his ears.

"You know, very few here have that wretched luck of yours," he said while cradling his cup of coffee. He continued, "And not many new bloods can have that exact same outcome as you did, just to let you know."