Kalev staggered onto the Maverick’s ramp, Nerit clutched against his chest, when brilliant streaks of arcane energy split the sky. The source was a black point rimmed with crimson light—Hana. Each shot trailed plasma as it streaked toward the facility. Five thunderous explosions rattled the platform and the ramp, nearly causing him to lose his footing.


    “Hana! What are you doing?!”


    “My mission. Neria’s last request to me.” Her voice was tight, choked. “Get in the air. I’ll intercept your ascent. Climb immediately.” The transmission cut off as Hana’s voice broke.


    A voice sang in his thoughts: “Go, my love.”


    Kalev took a long gaze at the spire, the illusion of rock long gone. It was a beautiful, crystalline structure. Minor explosions bloomed around the perimeter of the facility. He turned and dashed up the ramp. Quick steps up stairs and walkways, and he was on the flight deck. He carefully set Nerit down in the copilot’s seat, strapping her in. The child’s eyes remained fixed on the central spire.


    He leaped into the pilot’s seat, flicking on multiple switches as the Maverick’s drive core surged from idle to full power. He pulled on his harness quickly, then took the controls, pulling back on the yoke while sliding a throttle lever.


    The Maverick lifted off of the platform, slowly at first. The facility’s central spire—Neria’s heart—began to collapse in on itself, but the explosions continued around the entire facility. As the skies darkened considerably, a terrible storm formed. The Maverick’s sensors started beeping madly—a massive energy surge was building.


    Kalev spared one last glance at the falling spire—at Neria—before turning the ship, pulling back on the controls. “Hana… I… I’m on the way. Transmitting ascent pattern and velocity.”


    “Copy. Leave the hatch open, eh?”


    * * *


    Commander Alayna Rendari gripped the tactical console as another explosion rocked the Penumbra’s viewscreen. The sleek bridge—all polished surfaces and Imperium efficiency—was awash in red emergency lighting. Alayna’s midnight-blue skin—darker than typical Xervian coloration—absorbed the red emergency lighting, giving her angular features an almost obsidian quality. The bioluminescent nodules at her temples pulsed with controlled fury, their natural silver glow intensifying with each damage report.


    Alayna, unlike most Imperial officers who kept their hair regulation-short, wore her frost-white locks in an immaculate braid reaching her mid-back—a deliberate exception granted to her in recognition of excellence. Her uniform bore the distinctive silver trim of Intelligence Division, meticulously fitted to her tall, lithe frame.


    “Status report.”


    “Tactical Division reports seventy-three percent casualties, Commander.” The operations officer’s voice trembled slightly. “Five Dreadnoughts lost. Ground forces are in full retreat, but extraction is… unlikely.”


    “And the facility?”


    “Experiencing catastrophic power surges. Energy readings are…” The sensor officer paused, rechecking his instruments. “The facility’s power systems must have been integrated into the planetary core.”


    Alayna’s fingers dug into the console edge. Her first independent command, and it was falling apart spectacularly. The Admiral would be furious. Years of perfect service, destroyed in minutes by a single Knight—Hana, if her reports were correct—and that traitor Kalev.


    <i>Kalev</i>. Her jaw tightened at the thought of him. The brilliant, na?ve fool who’d once looked at her with such devotion.


    “Ma’am!” The communications officer’s voice broke through her thoughts. “We’re receiving a transmission… from the facility.”


    “Put it through.”


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The main viewscreen flickered, replacing the chaos below with the serene face of a woman composed of golden light. The AI smiled—actually <i>smiled</i>—as if she weren’t in the process of destroying an entire Imperium tactical division.


    “Commander Alayna Rendari,” the figure said pleasantly. “I am Neria, custodian of this facility. I wanted to thank you personally for your contribution to our test of the Beacon System.”


    “What test?” Alayna snarled, the bioluminescent points at her wrists flaring brightly against her uniform cuffs.


    “Your attack provided the perfect opportunity to evaluate our defensive protocols while simultaneously activating our primary systems. Quite an efficient integration scenario, don’t you think?” The AI’s smile widened slightly. “The data we’ve gathered on Imperium ground and fleet tactics will be… invaluable to Knight Orion and others.”


    Alayna fought to maintain her composure. “This isn’t over.”


    “Oh, but it is. You’ve lost this battle. You’re about to lose your fleet. And your standing with your superiors will… suffer. Pursuing the Siderans will only speed up your downfall, though I predict you will pursue them none the less.” The golden figure’s expression softened with what appeared to be genuine pity. “They were always beyond your reach, Alayna. You just couldn’t see it.”


    The deck lurched violently beneath Alayna’s feet.


    The golden glow shifted red, and Neria’s smile vanished. “You’ve taken <i>everything</i> from me.” Her eyes narrowed. “My only regret is that you are far enough from the planet that you can safely jump away. I suggest you do so, rather than any foolish attempt to stop the Quantum Maverick.”


    “Planetary detonation imminent!” The tactical officer turned to face Alayna. “The blast radius will reach us if we don’t—”


    “Break orbit! All ahead flank, get us clear enough to jump!” Alayna’s eyes never left the screen.


    “One last thing,” Neria said, her form shifting back to gold. “I’ve taken the liberty of transferring your personal mission logs—including your unsanctioned surveillance of Kalev Sideran—to your admiral’s private channel. I thought he might find your… <i>obsession</i> noteworthy.”


    “How did you—?”


    “How did I learn so much about you?” Neria smiled. “It’s what I was born to do. To judge the worthiness of power. You are not. Maybe once, but certainly not now. I’d explain further, but I’m about to die because of you, so I’ll let you think it out yourself, if you don’t mind.”


    A small dot on the central tactical display showed the Quantum Maverick streaking past the Penumbra. Alayna’s eyes tracked its movement until the tracking symbol winked out of existence—it had jumped away.


    “Commander, we’re clear!”


    “Jump to hyperspace immediately!”


    “Goodbye, Commander Rendari. Xenara III Beacon System Facility, out.”


    The crust of the planet below cracked, the clouds dissipating. The ground under the facility erupted into a column of fire and rock. Within an instant, the entire crust of the planet erupted outward, incinerating the ships lower in orbit. The explosion raced towards them, just as the navigation officer engaged the hyperdrive.


    As the swirling chaos of hyperspace filled the viewscreen, Alayna’s knuckled whitened around the console’s edge. This wasn’t merely failure. It was humiliation.


    “Follow them,” she hissed.


    The navigation officer turned, confusion clear on his face. “Ma’am, our orders were to return to—”


    “I didn’t ask for your interpretation of orders, Lieutenant.” Her voice could have frozen plasma. “They’ll return to their base. There’s no way they left empty-handed. We’ll find them and crush their resistance.”


    * * *


    Kalev sat motionless in the pilot’s seat, watching the luminous tunnel of hyperspace stretch endlessly before him. Beside him, Nerit slept in the copilot’s chair draped in Kalev’s coat, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Unconsciously, his fingers traced mathematical equations on the console, equations for problems numbers couldn’t solve. Ash and dried blood still clung to his trembling hands.


    “You look like hell, brother.”


    He looked over his shoulder. Hana leaned against the flight deck doorway, a patchwork of medical devices humming across her torso and limbs. Fresh dermal sealant glistened over a jagged wound from collarbone to shoulder, while a stabilizer brace hugged her left knee. Her skin, usually copper-bright, looked ashen except where blood had dried in trails the medkit hadn’t reached. Despite it all, she wore a crooked smile, as if her many injuries were merely inconvenient souvenirs.


    “Could say the same about you.”


    Hana smirked. “Heh. Scars are cool.”


    Kalev stared. “Not all of them.”


    Hana’s face softened slightly. “Yeah. Not all of them.” Her glance shifted to the occupied copilot seat, then back to him. “So, ah… are we gonna talk about the kid?”


    “She’s my daughter. Neria’s daughter.”


    Hana’s jaw dropped slightly. Kalev watched as what he assumed was a massive list of locker room jokes filtered through Hana’s brain, her mouth opening and closing. Instead, she glanced at the girl again, a soft smile on her face. “She’s pretty.”