It’s 2026, and I still remember that mission like it was yesterday. The neon haze of Mirogana, the constant hum of Toshara’s underbelly, and me—Kay Vess—staring at a dead end in the Counterfeit Credits Intel Chain. Someone was flooding the district with fake credits, and the Pykes were breathing down my neck to find the source. Every clue had led to one place: the Soup Kitchen inside Crimson Dawn territory. Trouble was, the Dawn didn’t exactly roll out a welcome mat for nosy scoundrels.
Getting to the Crimson Dawn district in the northern part of Mirogana wasn’t the tough part—especially if you’ve been running jobs for them and your reputation sits at ‘Good’ or higher. Walk through the front gate, nod to the guards, and you’re in. Easy, right? But here’s the kicker: even with a friendly face, they won’t just let you waltz into the Soup Kitchen. Something shady is definitely cooking in there, and the guards on the landing pad made it crystal clear that I wasn’t invited.
So I had to get creative. The landing pad sits on the right side of the district, and from the street you can spot a narrow set of steps hugging the wall—those were my way in. I slipped up the steps, keeping low, and found myself on the edge of a restricted area. One guard patrolled near my position, blissfully unaware. Don’t mess this up, I told myself. A quick, silent takedown, and he was snoozing behind a crate. But that was the easy part. Two more guards wandered back and forth right in front of the massive exhaust fan that blocked the real entrance.
Now, let me paint you the scene. The fan blades spun like a trio of angry sarlacc teeth, daring me to try something stupid. I crouched behind a stack of containers right next to the fan, using them as cover every time the patrol duo turned in my direction. My heart was hammering—you know the feeling, when even your breathing sounds too loud? I had to time this perfectly. From my hiding spot, I sent Nix out to scan the machinery. His little sense ability is a lifesaver, highlighting a power conduit that snaked away from the fan and ended at a distant lever. That’s our ticket, I thought.
I ordered Nix to slink over to the lever and hold it down. As soon as he did, the fan groaned to a halt, blades freezing mid-slice. But here’s the catch—the guards were still there, and if they spotted me scrambling through that gap, it’d be game over. I waited until they turned their backs, muttering something about lunch breaks, then launched myself toward the fan. Crouching, I squeezed between the frozen blades, scraping my shoulder on cold metal. No time to think, just move. Once through, I tumbled into a dark corridor and finally let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
Inside, the noise of the fan was replaced by a low, dripping silence. The corridor led to a small room on my left—an overlooked maintenance nook, judging by the dust. In the floor, a hole opened up, and a ladder was folded against the edge. I kicked it down, listening for any reaction from below. Nothing. Climbing into the darkness felt like descending into a whole other world. When my feet hit solid ground, the smell of stale spice and recycled air told me I’d made it. I was standing in the Crimson Dawn Soup Kitchen.
That moment always sticks with me—the mix of relief and renewed tension. Finding the kitchen was only the midpoint of the Counterfeit Credits chain; the real mystery still lurked in its shadows. But for a few seconds, I just stood there, letting the triumph wash over me. Nix chirped happily at my side, and I swear he grinned. If you’re still hunting down those fake credits in 2026, remember: patience, a loyal merqaal, and a well-timed dash through a fan can get you into places you were never meant to be.