The group followed behind Shreya as she navigated the narrow passages of the Shizukana Kage, approaching the slightly rusted and battered side access hatch. Before Shreya unlocked the airlock door, Kai paused, sliding open a small storage drawer built into the wall where he rifled through a collection of assorted items, scraps of metal, broken gadgets, and a few dusty tools.
“What are you doing?” Shreya asked, her finger hovering over the airlock controls.
“Grabbing a few weapons I stashed away in case of emergencies.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she countered firmly.
His eyes settled on a battered Tumulus K-9 pistol among the clutter as he muttered, “When dealing with the Ursaen Legion, I’ve found it’s always necessary.”
Shreya sighed, shaking her head slightly. “Please don’t carry a weapon onboard. That would definitely cause trouble. If you let me do the talking, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
Kai hesitated, his fingers drumming against the edge of the drawer. Pressing his lips tight with a reluctant nod, he pushed the compartment shut. “Fine, we’ll play it your way.”
The access hatch hissed open, releasing a rush of air that equalized the pressure between the ship and the tunnel beyond. Shreya’s eyes snapped wide open, and a startled gasp escaped her lips as she realized she was staring down a rifle barrel aimed directly at her head. Quickly raising her hands in surrender, she pleaded, “Easy, we’re unarmed.”
The soldier at the opposite end of the rifle stood poised to fire, dressed in a tight black combat suit, while the dark, opaque visor of his helmet looked on with an emotionless, cold intent. His partner in matching gear loomed behind him, a silent sentinel of intimidation. The soldier motioned them into the tunnel with the tip of his rifle, as his eerie, modulated voice commanded, “Step onto the gantry, hands on the bulkhead, feet apart.”
Shreya and Kai carefully obeyed, shuffling into the tunnel and pressing their hands against the wall. Parri, however, paused, fear flashing across her face as she took a hesitant step back.
“Get in line against the wall, now!” the soldier barked, thumb flicking the laser sight as he took an intimidating step forward, the red dot dancing over Parri’s chest.
Parri gasped, panic flooding her senses as she threw her hand in the air. “Whoa, whoa, don’t shoot,” she cried, scrambling to reverse direction. In a clumsy display of awkward floating and tiptoeing, she clambered into the tunnel between the ships, positioning herself to face the wall beside Kai.
With an assertive shove, the soldier drilled the barrel of his rifle into Parri’s back, his voice a mechanical growl, “Put your hands on the bulkhead.”
“Okay, okay. Damn, you’re pushy,” Parri yelped, her heart racing as she slapped her hands against the wall.
The soldier pressed his forearm against Parri’s back, knocking her off balance as he examined her outfit. Her blue jacket, adorned with gray markings, and black cargo-style pants, secured at her waist with a thick belt, were rife with pockets. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, he ordered, “Feet apart, and don’t move!”
Parri clenched her eyes shut, her chest pressed against the wall as the invasive search commenced. The soldier’s hands roamed aggressively down her pant legs, groping with a clinical precision that made her skin crawl. She fought to stay still as he squeezed her calf, then her thigh, repeating the process on her other leg. But when he suddenly dragged his forearm between her legs, a scream burst from her chest. “Hey!” she cried out, swiftly turning to swat his hand away.
The soldier recoiled, instincts kicking in as he yanked his sidearm from its holster, shouting, “Stop! Don’t move.”
Parri thrust a stern finger in front of the guard’s emotionless face shield. “You have no right to touch me like that!”
The guard swiftly grabbed her hand, twisting her wrist cruelly until she cried out in pain, bent over in submission. Moving in, he shouldered her against the wall and switched his grip to the back of her head, pressing her cheek firmly against the cold metal. “Do you have a death wish or something?” he bellowed, his voice harsh. “Stay still, don’t move, and shut your mouth. If you have another outburst like that, I will shoot you. Do you understand?”
“Calm down, soldier,” Kai piped up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “She’s harmless, and I can assure you none of us are packing.”
“I didn’t ask,” the guard snapped, black face shield scanning the group. “Everyone, face the wall and shut up.”
Kai cast a worried glance at Parri, whispering, “Just do what the guard asks. I promise he’s not getting frisky—” His words cut off suddenly with a teeth-sucking gasp of pain as the soldier’s quiet companion brutally struck him in the ribs with the butt of his rifle. “Okay, okay,” he wheezed, retreating from the confrontation.
“Now then,” the guard growled, turning his focus back to Parri. “Hold out your left hand.”
As she extended her arm, the soldier violently grabbed her wrist and bent it behind her back, forcing her to squeal, “Ow, ow!”
“Stop fighting,” he ordered, tucking the pistol back into its holster.
As the soldier aggressively kicked her feet apart, Parri bit her trembling lip and clenched her eyes shut, fighting back tears that welled up. The guard continued his search, running his hands along her jacket sleeve, scrunching the fabric, and probing her pockets. As his hand squeezed her ribs and his fingers raked along her stomach, she forced herself to stay silent, stifling the pitiful squeaks that escaped her lips each time the guard jostled her body.
After hurriedly repeating the search on the other side, the guard boldly shoved his thumb into her waistband and pulled at her pants with a firm grip. Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the soldier shook her like a stubborn vending machine. The search concluded when the guard unexpectedly dragged his forearm under her breast, leaving her trembling in a cold sweat, speechless, and feeling violated.
“This one’s clean,” the soldier said, stepping back.
Shivering from head to toe, Parri kept her eyes fixed on the gangway wall, dread anchoring her in place. From the corner of her eye, she saw the soldier approach Kai, where he methodically repeated the invasive search procedure. But unlike her, Kai kept an air of calmness, unaffected by the rough hands that roamed over his body. Parri’s lips pursed, aggravation swelling in her chest at the apparent disparity.
Once the search concluded, Kai shot her a sidelong glance, his raised eyebrow suggesting worry. Reluctant to voice her feelings or meet his gaze, she looked down at her boots. Her knees quivered beneath her pants, the many pocket zippers jingling nervously like tiny bells. Her belt hung askew, mirroring her emotional state of feeling off-center and out of place.
Next in line was Shreya, but as the soldier visually inspected her snug white nanosuit, she was spared the invasive search. Instead, the guard signaled his partner with a thumbs-up and moved to the center. “Okay, they’re all clean,” he announced.
Taking over responsibilities, the second guard nodded in acknowledgment. “Copy that.” Turning to the three posted against the wall, he gestured further down the gangway with a quick chin point. “Alright, back away from the bulkhead and follow me to the bridge.”
Parri peeled herself off the tunnel’s surface, her limbs stiff and reluctant as she followed Kai and Shreya. Hesitant to look up, she watched as the harsh metal flooring gave way to a shimmering, light blue deck, intricate circuitry patterns weaving across the surface like an ornamental tapestry. Swallowing her unease, she shifted her focus to the pristine white passageways of the Sun Tzu, where the walls boasted a gentle curve, crafted from smooth, reinforced polymers.
Most of the crew members wandering through the halls wore official white military uniforms layered over their nanosuits. Off-duty individuals paraded around in stylish attire complemented by specialized ferrous shoes that functioned as mag-boots, allowing them to navigate the specialized flooring with ease. Comfort and fashion reigned supreme, seemingly prioritizing aesthetics over safety, as the corridors dripped with prestige instead of handrails. Unlike the utilitarian interiors of other ships in the galaxy, the Ursaen design concealed unsightly pipes, cables, and computer stations behind luxurious décor. The ship’s interior resembled an affluent home, complete with rich tapestries on the walls, warm wooden accents, and sporadic plants that brought life to an otherwise sterile environment.
As they approached a junction, Kai looked down at Parri, whose posture was slouched, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Her eyes flickered to the grandeur around her, then quickly back to the floor, avoiding the gaze of any passing crew member. Leaning closer, his voice dropped to a whisper, tender and concerned. “Are you alright?”
She responded with a hushed, trembling voice, “No… no, I’m not.”
Kai smirked, a sympathetic understanding in his voice. “First time being frisked?”
Parri scowled, grumbling, “First time I’ve been dry-humped with my face smashed against a bulkhead, yes.”
In an act both protective and surprising, Kai wrapped his arm around her head, softly pressing her cheek against his ribs while playfully tousling her hair. “Sorry about that, kid.”
Startled by the unexpected attention, Parri frowned, her emotions swinging between confusion and comfort. While her heart lapped up the attention like a cat with milk, she struggled to understand how a man who often argued about personal space could suddenly be so affectionate. She felt a strong urge to wrap one arm around his waist, to reciprocate the embrace, but she hesitated, torn between desire and doubt. Pulling back from the impulse, she tilted her squished face up to meet his gaze. “I’m not a kid. I’m 20—”
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted, the corners of his mouth lifting in a teasing grin, “you’re 22. A full-grown woman ready to take on the entire galaxy.”
Heat blossomed beneath her cheeks as she chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t say the whole galaxy. At least not… not by myself.”
The double doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a pristine white bridge bathed in shadows, with pools of soft blue light lingering over the various workstations. The command chair at the center slowly turned to face the curved top doors at the back. Prefect Ovius sat like a king, his figure cloaked in shadow, except for a lone spotlight overhead that cast sharp angles across his face.
Marcus remained silent, a brooding presence with fingers wrapped around the armrest, his steely, piercing gaze fixed on the newcomers as they entered, already passing judgment. The hum of electronics filled the uneasy air, as soft chirps and beeps punctuated the stillness like distant whispers.
Shreya came to a stop before Marcus, standing alongside Kai and Parri. Folding her hands behind her back, she waited to be addressed, but the Prefect was suspiciously quiet. Nervously, her eyes scanned the bridge, noticing that her debrief attracted an audience as the crew periodically glanced her way. With impatience bubbling inside, she decided to start the conversation herself, but as soon as she took a deep breath, Marcus seized the opportunity to interrupt.
“Centurion Nova, it is truly a pleasure to see you alive,” he began, his voice dripping with insincerity. “First, allow me to extend my deepest condolences for the loss of your husband. I regret to inform you that we have been unable to recover or even locate his body. It is, without question, a tragedy to lose such a brilliant mind.”
“He’s not dead,” Shreya protested.
“Indeed,” Ovius replied, a crooked eyebrow arching above his irritated gaze. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned his yeoman to his side, continuing, “Let us first acknowledge the facts before we make any assumptions.”
A young man approached from across the bridge, moving purposefully, and handed a sleek digital tablet to the Prefect. Marcus took the device with little more than a glance and rose from his chair, his imposing stature eclipsing the spotlight. As he advanced, his deep-set eyes examined the data, while his dry voice stated, “Centurion, the crux of the matter is I am left with a crippled Athena-class ship and a missing pilot.”
Stopping in front of Shreya, he looked past the tablet to meet her gaze directly, his tone icy and accusatory. “The Karl Jansky has been destroyed, her crew lost, save for one recovered body. Furthermore, I now find myself burdened with a project that has cost me a substantial amount with no actionable progress. Now… you arrive, seemingly out of nowhere, accompanied by two strangers, with dubious intelligence regarding an alien attack to rationalize all of this?” With a composed demeanor, Marcus tucked the tablet behind his back and loomed over Shreya, his eyes brimming with skepticism. “I fear something is afoot, Centurion. Perhaps you could elaborate?”
Shreya straightened her shoulders, drawing herself up tall and firm to meet his gaze. “Sir, the alien attack is beyond question; you witnessed it yourself.” With a deep sense of begrudgingly repeating herself, she explained, “A Stygiamite ship emerged shortly after the Von Braun. We managed to log the alien vessel on our sensors mere moments before it unleashed a pulse that crippled the Karl Jansky. It then deployed a devastating swarm weapon that obliterated the ship.” She gestured toward Kai and Parri, her fingers slicing through the air. “If not for these two, I would have met the same fate.”
Marcus’s dismissive huff echoed across the bridge as he turned his gaze from Shreya to the others, barely acknowledging their presence. He started tapping a finger on the tablet’s edge, each rhythmic click reflecting his growing irritation. After running his tongue over his front teeth, he let out a soft, annoyed lip smack. “And these two are?”
Shreya studied their faces, which were marked with worry and unease, showing their doubt about what she would do next. A fierce internal debate raged within as she considered her options. Part of her felt a moral obligation to expose the nefarious activities she had uncovered, backed by the concrete evidence she had obtained from Kai’s ship. Yet, a flicker of hesitation gnawed at her. Kai risked his life to rescue her from the wreckage, and as a reward, she threatened his freedom by dragging him into the hands of the Ursaen Legion. Her eyes flicked to the emblem of the Colonial Navy proudly displayed on his jacket, a conflicting symbol of his loyalty in a region where the UCC and the Ursae Dynasty were sworn enemies. The relationship between their respective superpowers was one of cold politeness, bound by fleeting ceasefires held together by mutually assured destruction. Torn between her duty to unmask criminals of the Ursae Dynasty and her gratitude to be alive, Shreya turned back to the Prefect. “Simple traders,” she stated, her voice steadier than she felt, “who found me marooned in space, Sir.”
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The Prefect narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his features. He returned his attention to the display, scrolling through reports from his security team while pacing like a drill instructor. “It pains me to hear one of my junior officers lie,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Are you sure you want to go down this path?”
“Lie? I’m not lying; a Stygiamite attacked us,” she insisted, her expression deeply offended.
“Ah, the alien angle. Still clinging to that story, are we?” He paused, a devious smirk creeping onto his face. “Care to hear my theory on what truly transpired?”
Against her better judgment, her obligation to the chain of command wrested control from her lips. “What do you think happened, Sir?”
Marcus pivoted sharply, jabbing his broad finger into her chest with a forceful accusation. “The truth, Centurion, is that you attempted to cut your benefactor out of the profits. You concocted an elaborate scheme to sabotage the project and steal the prototype for your own gain. First, you had Den tunnel to a different system, all while covering it up with a false narrative about a malfunction that inexplicably sent the ship some 800 light-years off course. You insisted I allow you to take the Karl Jansky off station for a rendezvous with the Von Braun, knowing it would sever my connection. Fortunately, I saw through your ruse.
When I ordered you to return the Von Braun, you became desperate and made mistakes. You cut power to the Karl Jansky when the Athena-class ship returned, leading to a complete communication blackout. Perhaps your crew was complicit in your treachery, or maybe they were unwitting participants in your deception. The fact remains that you set the Artemis-class vessel to self-destruct, aiming to erase any evidence of your foul plot. You knew I would investigate, which is why you are here now. You planned to seize the black box from the Von Braun, the only piece of evidence that would reveal the truth: that the prototype never traveled to the Rigel system.”
“What?” Shreya erupted, breaking her military composure. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No,” Marcus replied, his disdain palpable. “What is truly ridiculous is this absurd fabrication of an alien attack you’re feeding me. Telling me horror stories like I’m some second-rate Pilum.”
Parri fought to contain her anxiety, tension coiling her stomach in knots as she listened to the barrage of accusations hurled at Shreya. She fiddled with the rubber padding on her glove, nervously popping it with two fingers as the unjust claims chipped away at her resolve to stay silent. In a moment of impulsive honesty, she blurted out, “It’s true what she said. The Stygiamite attacked the Ursaen ship.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly as she saw Kai’s shoulders slump with defeat, a heavy sigh slipping from his lips like a deflating balloon. Meanwhile, Marcus turned his gaze toward her, a fierce intensity burning behind his eyes that sent a jolt of dread through her chest. Recognizing her mistake, her eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hands. In that split second, she had unintentionally exposed their presence during the attack, implicating them in the disaster. Overcome with the urge to shrink from scrutiny, she instinctively tried to hide behind Kai.
Marcus stormed down the line with a surprisingly quick and determined stride, like an eager woman power walking to her aerobics class. However, the comedic image of his approach quickly vanished from her mind when his massive form stopped in front of her. As his beady eyes bored into her soul and his shadow loomed over her like a sinister cloud, Parri instinctively looked down, finding comfort in staring at his huge boots. When Marcus leaned closer, his breath hot on her face, she reflexively scrunched her head closer to her shoulders.
“You saw this alleged alien attack firsthand?” he inquired, his firm tone almost shouting.
Parri felt her throat constrict as she stammered, “Um… n, n, no.”
“Then perhaps you can explain how you know it was an alien and not something else?”
She swallowed hard, her mind racing for something—anything—to help her out of this mess. “Um,” she faltered, “well… it, it, ah… we, um.”
“No? Surely you can explain how a trader, like yourself, gets involved in a secret military operation at the edge of the system, so far from any trade routes?”
Parri’s gaze darted between Kai and Shreya, both wearing expressions of quiet desperation, urging her to stop her futile attempts at an explanation. But all she could manage was a helpless, “Um.”
“Um, um,” the Prefect ridiculed. “Is that the only word you know?”
The stench of his breath clung to her skin like muggy sweat, causing her nose to wrinkle in disgust as she looked down at the ground. Her body trembled, fear coursing through her veins as she struggled to find the right words, but all she managed was a meek, “Um.”
Marcus let out a derisive scoff, muttering, “That’s what I thought.” Turning his gaze back to the tablet in his hand, he scrolled through the data. “My report shows that the Karl Jansky failed to launch any escape pods, indicating no emergency beacons were active. So, remind me what lured you to the wreckage? Were you looking for illegal salvage that you could sell on the black market?”
Parri suddenly experienced intense stage fright, making it impossible for her to form a clear thought or even gather the courage to speak. “It was a… um,” she began, nervously plucking at the elastic part of her glove again. “We detected a distress signal and wanted to lend aid if possible.”
Marcus raised an incredulous eyebrow and stood tall as he slowly repeated her words, each syllable dripping with mockery, “A distress signal.”
“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, grasping at the fraying edges of her lie. “That’s how we found the woman, I mean, the Centurion.”
“That’s funny, because none of our outposts in the system detected a mayday or any other abnormal signals. Do you want to know why? Because our ships didn’t transmit any. If you’re going to tell a lie, at least make it believable.”
Frustration flared in her chest as she met his gaze, his condescending tone more foul than his breath. “I’m not lying—”
Before she could finish, the Prefect lunged forward, grabbing her shoulder with an iron grip that froze her in place. Like an intense interrogation designed to extract a confession, he bombarded her with questions, his voice rising to a commanding shout. “Admit that there was no alien attack. Acknowledge that you’re working with the Centurion in a secret plot to hijack the prototype. Confess everything you’ve said is a lie, and point to the woman responsible for the destruction of the Karl Jansky.”
“Hey!” Kai shouted, an ember of valor igniting within as he forcefully pushed the Prefect’s hand away. Thrusting himself between the towering Marcus and Parri, he pulled her behind him with one protective arm. “Leave her alone,” he growled, tilting his head upward to lock smoldering eyes with the Prefect. Kai realized he couldn’t win a physical fight, but that wasn’t his goal. Parri needed time to escape; she needed a diversion.
As Marcus huffed like a bull, Kai swiftly took in his surroundings. Noticing that the bridge door was behind him and to the left, he subtly shifted his stance. His eyes flicked to the tablet Marcus held in his right hand, signaling that an aggressive strike was likely to come from the left. The grip of the Prefect’s sidearm was pointed forward, a calculated risk if he could lunge for the pistol faster than Marcus could cross-draw. Clenching his fist, Kai took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable beating he was about to take.
“What about the sensor logs on the Karl Jansky?” Shreya interjected, her voice slicing through the tension. “They recorded the Stygiamite. If you want proof, pull the data.”
Marcus responded with a sharp grunt of annoyance, the corner of his lip curling as he let out a tooth-sucking sound. He rolled his eyes dramatically before glaring at Shreya, irritation written all over his rugged face.
With a dismissive huff, he turned his attention to the tablet in his hand, ignoring Kai’s aggressive posture. As he approached Shreya, his fingers flicked over the display, pulling up chaotic blocks of data that spilled down the screen like a cryptic waterfall. He thrust the screen before her, the garbled mess of unreadable information reflected in her eyes. “You mean this?” he sneered.
Shreya drew back from the tablet, her brow forming a tight ridge as her nose crinkled in confusion. The sensor logs appeared to be damaged. The recorded alien signal consisted of pages of corrupted characters mixed with barely readable timestamps.
“This is not an alien signal,” Marcus declared, his voice condescending. “I had my men scour the data we recovered from the Karl Jansky. Do you know what they concluded? This is what a hacked data log looks like after someone deliberately scrambles the information to conceal the truth.”
The bold accusation left her momentarily speechless, her jaw dropping in disbelief. “Well, your men are completely ignorant,” she countered.
Marcus took a deep breath and pressed his lips together as he calmly turned off the display and tucked it under his arm. He clasped his hands and rested them beneath his chin, tapping thoughtfully at his bottom lip with a single finger. A heavy silence filled the bridge as he stared her down, weighing his words like a judge considering a verdict.
Shreya cast a furtive glance at Kai, whose expression was one of barely contained fury, while Parri trembled behind him. She often admired the Ursaen Legion’s strict enforcement of order when dealing with lawbreakers; it had felt quick and justified until now. Marcus’s accusations cut deeply, questioning her loyalty and leaving her to wrestle with feelings of betrayal. She slightly shook her head at Kai, sending an unspoken message, as if answering his previous question, ‘Can he be trusted?’
“Tell me, Centurion,” Marcus whispered, his pause intensifying the seriousness of his question. “Why did you kill Pilum Amir Frost?”
Shreya inhaled sharply, her body instinctively recoiling at the mere suggestion. “I didn’t,” she gasped.
The Prefect leaned in, inches from her face, as his demeanor quickly shifted from calm and composed to hyper-aggressive. “Stop lying to me! The autopsy report confirms he died from a shard of glass jabbed through his throat. What happened? Did he discover your plot to sabotage the Karl Jansky? Did he threaten to turn you in? Stop making excuses and tell me the truth. Tell me you shoved that shard of glass into his throat to shut him up!”
A surge of outrage welled up in her chest, tight and hot as her fist clenched. Each word Marcus uttered felt like a knife twisting deeper into her stomach. The accusation of murder was outrageous. Every fiber of her being screamed for justice, for the need to fight back against the lies cascading from his lips. She cared deeply for her crew, and the Prefect’s insulting accusations pushed her past the breaking point. Military protocol flew out the window as she let her emotions take control, her hand flying across his face in a resounding slap. “How dare you!” she yelled, the words bursting from her throat like a volcano. “Amir was killed during the alien attack!”
Marcus barely flinched as red finger impressions appeared on his cheek. In an instant, his eyes darkened as he yanked her golden hair, pulling her off balance and wrenching her head back so she was forced to gaze up at the ceiling. With his free hand, he activated the tablet and thrust the screen into her line of vision. “Look!” Marcus barked, his voice a thunderous command. “Look upon the putrid remains of the man you murdered.”
Shreya winced as pain shot through her scalp, her hands instinctively wrapping around his massive wrist. She squirmed and fought for relief, but he responded to her struggle with another brutal tug. Helplessly overpowered, she turned her gaze towards the display, her eyes focusing on the horrific image. She saw Amir’s lifeless body, grotesquely laid out on an operating table, dissected and stripped of dignity. His skin was a sickening shade of blue, as his final moments of suffering were etched in the haunting expression frozen on his face.
“Admit that you killed him, Centurion,” Marcus pressed, tugging her hair once more.
“I didn’t kill him!” she cried out, desperation flooding her voice. “Debris was flying everywhere during the attack. He died with honor, manning his post.”
With a dismissive scoff full of disdain, Marcus threw her to the floor. Shreya hit the ground with a loud thud, her breath forced out in a wheeze. Before she could get back on her feet, he pressed his boot firmly against her back. Waves of electromagnetic energy pulsed through her body, stubbornly pulling his foot closer to the floor and keeping her pinned. “Arrest these traitors,” Marcus ordered, his voice steady as he straightened the hem of his crisp military uniform.
“Like hell you will!” Kai shot back, his heart pounding as he rushed to Shreya’s aid. Leaping to a vent in the ceiling, his fingers slipping through the grate as his body swung like a pendulum, driving both feet into the Prefect’s chest. The impact forced Marcus to stumble backward, releasing Shreya from her prone prison. Kai dropped to the ground, straddling the Ursaen woman as his boots clamped down against the deck, fist raised.
When Marcus pulled the pistol from his hip and aimed it at Kai, Shreya yelled, “Wait!” She firmly tapped Kai’s leg, urging him to step back so she could climb back to her feet. “We yield, we yield,” she said, her voice a mix of fear and resolve. Calmly, she raised both hands in surrender, turning to face Marcus and positioning herself as a barrier between Kai and the threatening weapon. “As a Centurion, I respectfully request that we be placed under house arrest instead of being sent to a Ursaen prison. My years of honorable service merit that consideration. Grant me this one request while a fair military trial is conducted to determine our innocence or guilt.”
Marcus squinted, gradually lowering his weapon as curiosity replaced some of the intensity in his gaze. “Why would I grant you that?”
“Because Ursaen prisons are simply temporary holding cells, designed to extract confessions through torment before a very brief trial in court. Ultimately, your case will be dismissed since the evidence against us is only circumstantial. You know how our legal system operates,” Shreya replied, her tone measured. “I’m willing to cooperate fully with you, Sir. We will adhere to the terms of house arrest while both parties conduct a thorough investigation. Ensuring the charges you’re leveraging against are fairly reviewed by the courts.”
Marcus holstered his weapon with a long groan. Without replying, he returned to his command chair, his boots thumping against the glossy floor as he crossed the bridge. Staring deep into the vast expanse of stars twinkling beyond the forward canopy, he meticulously adjusted the cuffs of his tailored jacket, his silence filling the room with unease.
After a tense moment, the Prefect lowered his considerable frame into the chair, his gaze settling on Shreya. “Fine,” he muttered, gesturing dismissively toward the guards with a wave of his hand. “To honor your military service, I will permit you to be placed under house arrest. The three of you will be taken to Eta Terra Gateway, the Orbuxia station here in the Menkalinan system, and confined under heavy guard in the Centurion’s residence. The Topaz Outrider-class ship will be towed to the station and grounded while we conduct a thorough investigation.”
“This way,” one of the soldiers barked, signaling the group to leave the bridge.
“No way,” Kai objected, his hands signaling refusal to cooperate. “You’re not locking me up in Blondie’s house. I don’t care how flamboyant it is, a prison is a prison.”
Shreya pivoted toward him, her palm resting gently against his chest. “Please, it has to be done this way,” she urged, her voice a firm whisper.
“This is absolute bullshit,” Kai retorted.
In a quieter tone, Shreya leaned closer to his ear. “If we resist, he’ll have us shot. No trial, no questions, no mercy. House arrest gives us the time we desperately need. Think about what’s best for your co-pilot.”
Kai’s frown grew deeper as his eyes shifted to Parri, who was trembling from the harrowing ordeal. “That’s a dirty move, to use her like that, even for a Ursaen.” With a heavy heart and no more arguments left, Kai gave in.
Under the guidance of the two guards, the three prisoners were escorted through the sprawling hallways of the ship. The silent resignation was palpable as they approached a small slave cabin located on the port side. One by one, they filed into the cramped room, which was packed with two racks of narrow bunk beds, a washroom tucked away in the corner, and a small booth with a worn table. The soldiers stayed on guard outside as the door slid shut with a final clicking sound when it locked.
Parri shuffled towards the booth, her movements sluggish. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head down, looking defeated. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured into her arm. “Me and my big mouth. I should have just kept quiet.”
Kai turned his gaze toward Shreya, a smug smirk creeping over his lips. “Great job, by the way. Letting you do all the talking really worked out well for us. Was this your plan all along?”
“No,” she sighed, her fingers grasping the edge of the bed frame, searching for stability amid the confusion. “None of this makes sense. Why would the Prefect insist it was sabotage? He was on the bridge when the Stygiamite arrived. He saw it happen.”
Kai folded his arms across his chest and deactivated his mag-boots to drift away from the circuit-infused floor. His mind flashed with memories of the confusing device he saw the Prefect and his soldiers install on the Von Braun back at the Gorey Refinery. “Maybe it was actually sabotage,” he said calmly.
Shreya arched an inquisitive eyebrow, skepticism in her voice. “Are you suggesting that I sabotaged my own ship?”
“No, no,” he replied quickly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I mean, the Prefect might have tampered with your Athena-class ship when it was docked at Gorey Refinery.”
A flicker of suspicion crossed her face. “How do you know where the Von Braun was before the test flight?”
Kai couldn’t help but smile, an air of mischief dancing in his expression as he shot her a playful wink. “All I’m saying is it might not be a bad idea to look at the security cameras. You never know what you might find.”
Shreya squinted. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re more involved in this than you’re letting on?”
Sun Tzu, it’s been an incredible ride. Thank you to everyone who followed the Daily Sprint—your comments and support kept the engines running.
What’s Next? The story of the Echoverse continues in Book 2: Dynasty of Chains. Kai, Parri, and Shreya’s journey is just beginning, and the Stygiamite threat is growing darker. We’ll be diving deeper into the history of the Dynasty and the consequences of the "house arrest" at Eta Terra Gateway.
How You Can Help: If you enjoyed this first installment, the absolute best way to support the series is to leave a Review or a Rating. It helps the Echoverse reach new readers and ensures I can keep bringing you daily updates for the next volume! Let me know in the comments if you want to read the next book, and i'll work on getting it ready for Royal Road.
What was your favorite part of "Shadows Over Menkalinan"?
