The journey to Vaelora should have been uneventful. Should have been.
Lyra leaned against the cockpit's frame, watching Kaelen run diagnostics on the nav drive. "That's the third time the system's glitched today," she said, frowning.
Kaelen didn't look up. "Fourth. And I'm starting to think it's not a glitch."
Before she could respond, the ship shuddered violently, lights flickering. An alarm screamed from the console: HULL BREACH – DECK THREE.
They bolted.
Deck Three was a narrow maintenance corridor, dimly lit, filled with the smell of ozone. A jagged hole had been sliced into the inner hull—not from outside, but from within. Wires sparked and fluids leaked from ruptured conduits.
Lyra crouched beside the breach. "This isn't wear and tear," she muttered, fingers tracing the smooth, deliberate cut. "This was sabotage."
A faint metallic click echoed behind them. Both spun, weapons drawn.
A small, insect-like drone clung to the ceiling, its carapace shimmering with cloaking tech. The moment it realized it had been seen, it darted down the corridor with inhuman speed.
"Kaelen!" Lyra shouted.
He raised his sidearm and fired. The bolt struck true, and the drone exploded in a shower of sparks. But not before it emitted a single, high-pitched pulse—an encrypted signal sent far into the void.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "We're compromised."
Lyra nodded grimly. "And whoever planted that thing knows exactly where we're headed."
Suddenly, the ship's AI—a dry, sardonic voice—chimed over the comms.
"Captain? I've detected a second, larger signal originating inside the ship. It's… moving."
They froze.
"Moving where?" Lyra demanded.
The AI hesitated. "Toward the reactor."