The Ardent Horizon was alive.
Not in the way people meant when they talked about engines or AI cores — this ship breathed. Every hum of the reactor, every subtle vibration in the floor panels, was a steady heartbeat that seemed to follow Lyra down the narrow corridors.
She'd been on plenty of vessels before, but never one that felt like it was watching her.
Her cabin was functional and bare — a single cot bolted to the wall, a small desk with a flickering display, and a viewplate showing the void. She tossed her duffel onto the bed, the thud echoing against the metal walls.
Through the viewplate, the stars were a blur as the ship accelerated toward the first wormgate. In a few hours, they'd make the jump.
A soft chime sounded behind her. She turned to see Kael leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.
"You don't lock your door?" His voice was low, almost amused.
"Should I?"
"That depends." His gaze swept over her in a way that wasn't quite threatening, but wasn't friendly either. "Do you trust the crew?"
Lyra folded her arms to mirror him. "Do you?"
Instead of answering, Kael stepped inside, closing the door with a soft hiss. "You don't know what you've signed up for, Vance."
"I know the pay," she said coolly. "I know the route. I know the risks."
His jaw tightened. "The risks you think you know aren't the ones you should be worried about."
She bristled. "Then enlighten me, Riven. What should I be worried about?"
For a heartbeat, his expression softened — almost like he might actually tell her. But then his eyes shuttered, that invisible wall sliding back into place.
"You'll find out soon enough."
He turned to leave, but Lyra's voice stopped him.
"What happened to your last mission?"
He froze mid-step. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. The shadows from the corridor lights caught in his eyes, making them look like cold steel.
"That's classified."
"Convenient," she muttered.
His lips curved — not into a smile, but something sharper. "You should learn to stop asking questions you don't want the answers to."
And then he was gone, his footsteps fading into the hum of the ship.
---
Lyra spent the next few hours familiarizing herself with the Ardent Horizon's navigation systems. The ship's AI, a smooth, feminine voice calling itself "Vera," was responsive but cryptic, often answering her direct questions with riddles of technical jargon.
Still, the controls were state-of-the-art — a spherical nav chamber with holographic star charts that floated around her like constellations suspended in water. She traced the route to the Meridian Run, her eyes lingering on the section marked in deep red: Restricted Sector. Entry Forbidden by Fleet Command.
Her brother's last mission log had placed him right there.
The thought of Orion's voice — that panicked, half-finished warning — pressed against her chest like a weight. She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. She couldn't afford to fall apart now.
---
"First jump's in ten," the comm crackled.
Lyra straightened, fingers flying across the holographic controls to prep the coordinates. The wormgate loomed ahead on the main screen — a swirling disc of blue light suspended in the void, its edges rippling like water.
She'd done wormgate jumps before, but this one… this one felt different.
"Navigator," Kael's voice came from behind her. She turned to see him standing at the threshold of the nav chamber, steady despite the subtle shift in gravity as they approached the gate.
"You here to watch me work, or just stand there and look intimidating?" she asked, keeping her tone light.
His lips twitched — the closest thing to a smile she'd seen from him. "Both."
He stepped closer, his presence filling the small space. She tried to focus on the star map, but she could feel the heat of him at her shoulder, the faint scent of something metallic and clean — like ion fuel and rain.
"You always take jobs like this?" he asked quietly.
"No. Just the ones that pay enough to make me stupid."
His gaze lingered on her profile, searching. "Or the ones that promise answers."
Her hands stilled on the controls. "What do you know about my reasons for being here?"
"Enough." His voice was soft but certain. "People don't risk the Meridian Run for money alone."
Before she could reply, the wormgate's pull caught the ship. The world outside stretched and warped, the stars becoming streaks of light as the Ardent Horizon was swallowed whole.
Lyra's stomach dropped. Even with years of experience, wormgate jumps were never easy — but this one felt like diving into ice water.
The light around them flared, then shattered.
---
They emerged into a starfield Lyra had never seen before. The colors were wrong — too vivid, like the universe here was more alive, more dangerous. A faint shimmer, almost like a heat haze, danced at the edges of the viewport.
Her console beeped sharply.
"Incoming transmission," Vera's voice said.
"From who?" Lyra asked.
"Unknown source. Language: unrecognized."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Put it through audio only."
The speakers crackled, and then — there it was. The same alien signal she'd heard in her apartment. Low, pulsing tones like a heartbeat, layered with whispers she couldn't quite understand.
Lyra's own heartbeat stuttered.
She glanced at Kael. His expression was unreadable, but she didn't miss the way his hand hovered near the weapon at his belt.
"You've heard this before," she accused.
He didn't deny it.
Before she could push, the ship jolted violently. The lights flickered, and alarms screamed through the corridors.
"What the hell—?" Lyra grabbed the console to steady herself.
"Impact on hull!" Vera reported. "Source unknown."
Kael was already moving toward the door, but paused just long enough to look back at her.
"Stay here. Lock the nav chamber. And don't open it for anyone."
He was gone before she could argue, his boots pounding against the deck.
Lyra stared at the sealed hatch, the alarms still blaring, her pulse matching the frantic rhythm.
Then the console beeped again.
Another incoming transmission.
And this time, the voice was one she knew by heart.
> "Lyra… don't follow—"