Chapter 14: Silenced Echoes
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Chapter 14: Silenced Echoes
Two days had passed since the escape from Alion J184. The Darkstar Sentinel had made multiple short-range FTL jumps across uncharted zones, masking their trajectory with calculated randomness. Now, with a final pulse of energy, the vessel tore through the veil of faster-than-light travel and burst back into real space. The canopy dimmed automatically, shielding the pilot's vision as the stars stabilized, casting the fractured hull in the muted glow of a nearby red dwarf.
"FTL jump complete," Nyx intoned over internal comms. "We have exited into uncharted neutral space. Radiation levels are minimal. No known vessels or transmissions detected in range."
Tienerra slouched in the pilot's chair, arms draped over the rests, eyes closed. Her raven-black hair floated lazily in the low gravity, clinging to sweat-speckled cheeks. A faint shimmer danced along the exposed red-to-black gradient of her shoulder scales.
"So we're alive," she murmured. "Could've fooled me."
"The probability of failure was approximately thirty-nine percent," Nyx responded flatly.
"Appreciate the optimism."
A soft chime pulsed from the console. Several system reports blinked red.
"Shields offline. External damage to aft and dorsal panels. Portside maneuvering thrusters at forty-one percent. Power reserves at thirty-two percent and declining. Core systems operating in reduced cycle mode."
Tienerra opened one eye, then the other, groaning. Her wings shifted slightly beneath her cloak, iridescent membranes flexing in discomfort.
"Great. One solid hit and we're space dust."
"It would be prudent to begin contemplating the safe removal of the embedded device within the Kitsurai's chest," Nyx added. "The longer it remains active, the higher the risk of detonation or remote signal activation."
Tienerra blew out a breath, wings folding tighter against her back.
"So much for a cool-down."
Outside, stars drifted past the bow windows—cold, unblinking. Tienerra sat in silence before exhaling again.
"Alright. Let's take stock. Pull up every med scan of Velora. Highlight anything that might be a failsafe trigger."
"Already compiling."
"And Nyx?"
"Yes?"
"Next time I save someone with a bomb in their chest, remind me to not save them."
"Noted."
"Power reserves sufficient for one more short-range FTL jump," Nyx continued. "After that, we will require full recharge or refueling. Maintaining the localized shield around the med-gel tank consumes nine percent of energy per hour. We will not sustain both tank and ship systems for longer than thirty-six hours."
Tienerra leaned forward, elbows on her knees, tail hanging loosely in the air before curling tightly. Her eyes lingered on the red warnings.
"So I'm running out of time. Either I figure out how to get that thing out of her chest, or let her blow."
"A clinical but accurate assessment."
She pushed off from the chair, gliding through the corridor with quiet grace. Her long tail acted as a counterbalance, adjusting mid-spin as she caught handrails. Her wings folded tightly, brushing the edges of the narrow hallway.
The MedBay doors hissed open. Inside, Velora floated in the containment tank, suspended in med-gel. Midnight-purple fur drifted weightlessly, silver streaks catching the ambient glow of the emergency lights. Blood and nanogel coiled around her body like ghostly tendrils. Her vitals flickered—critical, but holding.
Tienerra pressed a palm to the tank, eyes locked on the Kitsurai's face.
"I should let you die," she whispered.
She drifted along the tank's side, boots brushing the rail to steady herself.
"I don't owe you anything. Not after the mess you pulled. Not after nearly getting us both killed."
The overlay glowed against the tank's surface, projecting a red-highlighted sphere near Velora's heart. It pulsed faintly. Ominous.
"But then... you didn't put that thing in yourself, did you?"
She rested her forehead against the cool glass, the low hum of the system vibrating through her skin. The soul crest embedded in her forehead—a faintly glowing crimson-red gem—tingled in response, pulsing gently with her Aetherspirit. Her wings drooped slightly, their membranes losing tension.
"Saving you could mean answers. Leverage. Or just... delaying the inevitable."
She floated to the bench, her tail coiling around a support bar to pull herself in. Her head dropped to her palms as she rubbed her temples.
"But maybe... maybe I just don't want to be the one who walks away again."
"You could prioritize survival," Nyx offered.
Tienerra gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well. Pragmatism doesn't keep the guilt away."
She drifted back, placing her hand against the tank once more. The faintest twitch curled the fur along Velora's forearm—reflex or failing muscle, she couldn't tell.
"You better wake up soon, furball. Because I'm getting real tired of saving people who never say thank you."
She floated toward the central hub. The sealed data prism gleamed softly on the console. Tienerra reached out, hesitated.
"Nyx, what happens if I try to force it open?"
"An electromagnetic surge is likely. Damage to contents: high probability."
"Figures."
She rolled midair, tail flicking. Her glowing violet eyes narrowed.
"Power's gone. Ship's busted. Velora's a bomb. And the prism's locked to her bio-signature."
"Confirmed. Activation requires her kinetic response and bio-electric pulse."
"Then I can't let her die."
After a long pause, she spun toward the comm terminal.
"Nyx, open a secure channel to Rhyx."
"Channel open."
The screen flickered. Rhyx appeared amid a cluttered, overlit workshop. His Khetari tail twitched behind him, silver fur flaring slightly. His ears perked at the sight of her.
"Tienerra...? You look... alive. Barely."
Before she could speak, LYNX chirped through the speaker. "You sure this isn't a transmission from the afterlife?"
"Unlikely," Nyx replied flatly. "If so, it's the noisiest afterlife I've scanned in three cycles."
Tienerra groaned. "They're tag-teaming now."
"Reunion aside," Rhyx said, pushing his glasses up, "why now?"
"I need help. Urgent. Can I land at your station?"
His ears angled sharply. "Define 'urgent.'"
"Critically wounded Kitsurai in stasis. Bomb in her chest. Locked data prism. No power."
Rhyx blinked. His golden and green eyes flared slightly.
"That... that's a lot. She's the one with the custom V.A.S.H., right? The one with the biometric Aether-bind signature? I traced a weird data pulse last month—someone embedded a modified—"
"Rhyx. Focus."
Rhyx turned to LYNX, whispering something inaudible. His tail swayed sharply.
"Understood. Docking beacon's live. Don't touch anything."
"When have I ever touched anything?"
"Would you like that answer chronologically or alphabetically?"
Tienerra straightened. Her wings retracted tightly, the violet glow of her soul crest pulsing once in sync with her quickening breath.
"I'll be there soon. No more delays."
The screen dimmed.
Suddenly, the ship lurched as a wave of ionized radiation slammed into the portside hull, the result of an unexpected solar flare from the nearby red dwarf.
"External impact detected," Nyx warned. "Radiation surge from red dwarf. Outer shielding compromised."
"Why wasn't I warned?"
"Sensors were disabled to conserve energy. Visual-only detection was active."
Another jolt sent her tumbling, wings flaring wide for balance, her claws scraping against the console frame as her tail braced against the bulkhead.
"Lights! Stabilize the MedBay! Is Velora stable?!"
"Localized drop confirmed. Shield failure in MedBay. Containment disrupted for two seconds. Status of Kitsurai subject: stable, but the med-gel tank dropped to critical levels momentarily."
Tienerra cursed. She shoved off the wall and rushed to the MedBay, wings pressed tightly to her back. The tank's stabilizing field had resumed, but faint cracks traced the interior glass. She hovered near Velora, scanning for any sudden changes—then, satisfied she was still alive, turned sharply and launched back toward the cockpit. Her tail flicked in agitation as she grabbed the console edge and pulled herself into the seat.
"Re-engage emergency shielding! Prioritize MedBay!"
"Secondary reactor rerouting. Stabilization in progress."
"Reopen the line to Rhyx."
"Connection reestablished."
"Rhyx, this just got worse. I'm jumping now."
His voice crackled back. "Understood. Just land."
"Nyx. FTL. Full burn. Feed everything into the core."
"Coordinates locked. Jump in three... two... one."
The Darkstar Sentinel roared as its engines flared to life. Stars stretched into streaks. The hull groaned—then vanished into the void.
Elsewhere, aboard a vessel cloaked in obsidian alloy, Varek stood in quiet reflection.
The dim light from a distant star filtered into his expansive quarters, where tomes older than most civilizations lined the shelves. Relics of war and ceremonial blades rested in precise alignment. His Nypherian tunic—black with golden filigree woven like sacred script—glimmered faintly as he moved.
A soft notification flickered on the wall-mounted console: "Tracker Echo Detected: Velora Unit – Duration: 2.1 seconds. Source: fluctuating bioelectric pulse. Locational approximation: 88% certainty."
Varek turned smoothly, his expression unchanged. With one hand, he tapped the console to preserve the data while his other hand lifted a cup of steaming herbal tea. He sipped slowly, unbothered, his glowing amber eyes narrowing only slightly.
A comm chirped.
"Commander Varek, we confirmed a pulse from Velora's implant. It vanished after two seconds, but we extracted useful telemetry. We've triangulated a probable location."
"Preserve the signal echo and cross-reference it with recent solar activity. Any radiation surge might have masked a proximity jump."
"Already being done, sir."
"Set course," he said calmly. "Track every echo."
"Understood. Plotting now."
Varek turned back toward the observation window. His fingers drummed once—precisely—on the polished edge of his blackstone desk.
"Soon," he murmured. "Very soon."