[INT. SPACESHIP – CARGO BAY – NIGHT]
The deep, steady humm.. of the Craxillon reactors filled the cargo bay, a low vibration running through the metal floor and into the feet of the woman standing in the shadows. Inside that body of Lady Seraphina, Ransoku listened to the sound, feeling each pulse like the beat of a living machine.
Just minutes earlier, the giant cargo doors had sealed shut with a hiss. Hydraulic locks clamped into place, their red indicators turning to green. Somewhere above, a heavy clang echoed — docking clamps disengaging.
Then came the moment.A deep, resonant roar.The engines had come alive.
The whole bay shuddered, as if the very ground beneath it had been ripped away. Secured crates rattled in their straps, metal beams groaned faintly under the strain. Far below, the last lights of the base began shrinking into pinpricks.
Ransoku leaned back against the wall, a faint smile curling at his lips.
Inner Voice (relieved):
*"That's it… just like this. I'm out of danger.
They'll fight. They'll die. I'll be safe. Alive. Smart. Like always."*
He closed his eyes, savoring the gentle upward lurch — that subtle weightless jerk as the ship broke free from the ground. It felt like leaving a nightmare behind.
The cargo bay was dimly lit by long strips of yellow light. On one side, massive reactor coils pulsed with a constant mechanical thrum; on the other, grav-lift pallets held stacks of weapons and supply crates, secured for the journey.
A few crew members moved quietly between the stacks, scanning crates with glowing hand-screens, numbers and inventory codes flickering across their displays.
Over the intercom, the pilot's voice drifted faintly into the bay:
"Primary lift complete. Engaging full thrust in three… two… one…"
The main thrusters kicked in. The vibrations deepened, heavier now, making the air tremble. Beyond the hull, the stars seemed to tilt as the ship aligned itself with its flight path.
Curiosity tugged at Ransoku.
Slipping away from the shadows of the reactor coils, he walked down a narrow passage between the stacked cargo. One side was nothing but tightly packed supply containers; the other, cold metal walls marked with faded safety warnings.
The air carried the warm scent of fuel and the dry sterility of recycled oxygen — the unmistakable flavor of a ship built for war, not comfort.
He paused at a small round observation port, pressing closer. Far below, the floodlights of the base were now no more than scattered glimmers, fading with every passing second.
Inner Voice (satisfied):
"Every second they get smaller… so do my problems."
[INT. MAIN CORRIDOR – SPACESHIP]
He pushed open a heavy bulkhead door and stepped into the main corridor. Bright white lights lined the ceiling. Sealed hatches broke the length of the walls, and above him, the ventilation system gave off a low, steady whirr. Beneath it all, the deep bass of the engines resonated through the metal floor.
Two soldiers passed him in the corridor, each carrying weapon cases, their boots tapping a crisp rhythm against the steel.
Through the open door of a nearby chamber, he caught the tail end of a technician's conversation — coolant levels, reactor calibration, technical readouts he didn't care to understand. All that mattered was one fact: no one had noticed he was here.
[INT. BASE – WAR ROOM – SAME TIME]
The scene in the base was a world apart.
Helza, Volkran, and Grivon stood around the central holo-table, its red-orange tactical markers blinking in steady pulses — each light a threat, a moving force on the map.
Comm officers barked rapid updates, their voices cutting through the constant stream of incoming data scrolling across screens.
Volkran:
"South perimeter secure. West hangar sealed. No confirmed sightings of Zargan's forward scouts yet… but it's only a matter of time."
Helza:
"They'll come. And when they do… we won't get a second chance."
Grivon:
"Every second counts. The decoy plan cannot fail."
No one said Ronan's name. But his absence was a weight in the room, as heavy as the silence between their words.
[INT. BASE – LOADING SECTOR]
In the lower loading sector, the energy was tense but efficient.
Engineers welded reinforcement plates onto bulkhead doors. Medics stocked portable kits, checking and rechecking their supplies. Crews shifted crates of ammunition toward staging points.
The soldiers still didn't know the truth.
They believed all the commanders had already departed for a safe zone aboard the departing spacecraft. And because of that belief, they worked without hesitation, ready to hold the line.
They had no fear for their own lives. As long as their commanders were safe, they were willing to fight — and die — without question.
But reality… was something else entirely.
[INT. SPACESHIP – OBSERVATION DECK]
Ransoku's wandering finally brought him to a side deck with a wide viewing port.
From here, the curve of the planet glowed faintly in the pale light of its moon. Stars hung cold and distant across the black void.
He pressed a hand to the glass, feeling the faint, rhythmic vibration of the engines through the hull.
Inner Voice (smug):
"No alarms. No pursuit.Just a straight line to the safe zone."
Somewhere deep inside the ship, a small warning light blinked once on a console in the control room.
In the cargo bay, no one noticed.
Not yet.
For Ransoku, the hum of the engines was the sound of safety. The war was far behind… or so he believed.But beyond the stars, destiny has its own flight path — and this journey has only just begun.
🔥 Chapter 13 – "Parallel Paths" – coming next…