The courier ship drifted through the void like a wounded beast. Its engines still pulsed, but the hull had scorch marks from plasma fire, and the shield generator wheezed with every surge. Kael Ardyn sat in the pilot's chair, hands steady on the controls even though exhaustion tugged at him. He hadn't let go since their escape. To release them, even for a moment, felt like tempting fate. Beside him, Lyra Veyra leaned back in the co-pilot's chair, scanning star charts displayed on her console. Her auburn hair fell across her cheek in the dim light, and Kael caught himself watching her more than the display. She noticed. "Something wrong, pilot?" Kael smirked faintly. "Just wondering why a Council biologist is out here on the Frontier, freeing exiles and stealing ships." Her eyes flicked to him, sharp and amused. "Xenobiologist. And you're welcome." "Didn't say I wasn't grateful," Kael replied. He adjusted the ship's trajectory. "But people don't just throw away their lives for a stranger." Lyra's expression hardened. "Maybe I didn't throw it away. Maybe I chose to use it differently." Her words hung in the air. Kael wanted to ask why she really believed him at the trial, why she looked at him like she saw more than the Council's "traitor." But before he could, the console blared a warning. Kael frowned at the sensor display. Ahead, the void twisted—ionized particles churned, glowing faintly blue. A subspace storm. "Damn," Kael muttered. "We'll have to divert." Lyra leaned forward. "If we divert, we'll head back toward the patrol routes. The Council could still be searching." Kael swore under his breath. She was right. He had flown through subspace storms before—dangerous and unpredictable, but survivable with skill. He glanced at her. "Strap in. This isn't going to be smooth." Lyra raised a brow. "Do you ever choose the smooth path?" Kael's grin was quick and reckless. "Not once." The courier plunged into the storm. Lightning arced across the void, striking invisible barriers. The ship rocked violently, metal groaning in protest. Kael's hands danced over the controls, correcting every jolt. Sweat beaded on his brow. He felt the storm in his bones, like a living thing testing him. Lyra clutched her harness, eyes wide as the cockpit flashed with blue light. "You've done this before, right?" "Once or twice," Kael said through clenched teeth. The ship lurched sideways, slammed by a wave of charged particles. Alarms blared. Lyra's scanner screeched warnings about hull stress. Kael gritted his teeth. "Come on, hold together." For a moment, he thought they'd make it through. Then the storm split open, revealing something vast within. A massive cruiser drifted in the storm's heart, torn apart by lightning. Its hull bore no insignia, its structure ancient and alien. Energy crackled across its surface, as if the storm itself fed on the ship. Lyra's eyes widened. "That… that's not human." Kael's breath caught. "No. It's not." Against all reason, Kael guided the courier closer. The storm's pull weakened near the wreck, as if the ship itself bent the chaos around it. They drifted into the shadow of the alien hull. Enormous spires jutted from the cruiser, shaped like jagged wings. Strange glyphs glowed faintly along its sides, pulsing in rhythm. Lyra whispered, awed, "This is… impossible. The Council's records show nothing like this." Kael's fingers tightened on the controls. "Which means they'd kill to keep it secret." They found a docking point—an airlock still intact. Kael steadied the courier, magnetic clamps locking onto the alien metal. Lyra looked at him. "We're not really going in there, are we?" Kael smirked faintly. "You didn't risk everything to sit in a cockpit, did you?" Her lips parted as if to argue, but then she shook her head, a reluctant smile on her face. "You're reckless." "And you're still here." The airlock hissed open, releasing a stale metallic scent. Kael led the way, blaster drawn, while Lyra carried her scanner. The alien corridors were vast and curved, lined with glyphs that pulsed faintly with blue light. The air was thin but breathable. The walls hummed with a low vibration, like the remnants of a heartbeat. Lyra ran her hand along the glyphs, eyes wide with wonder. "These markings… they respond to touch. They're alive, in a way." Kael's gaze swept the shadows. "Alive or not, I don't like the idea of being watched." They pressed deeper. The halls opened into a chamber filled with crystalline structures, glowing faintly. Energy pulsed through them like veins of light. Lyra's scanner beeped wildly. "This isn't just a ship. It's… part organism, part machine. A living construct." Kael frowned. "Which means what?" "Which means someone created this with knowledge far beyond anything the Council has." Before Kael could reply, a sound echoed—a metallic scrape, deliberate. From the shadows stepped a figure. Tall and armored, humanoid but not human. Its body gleamed with black metal and its eyes burned faintly orange. It moved with precision, each step like that of a predator. Kael raised his blaster. "Friend of yours?" Lyra whispered, terrified and awed, "That's not possible. It's an AI construct. But the Council destroyed all of them centuries ago." The figure stopped, tilting its head. Then, in a deep and resonant voice: "You are intruders. State your purpose." Kael kept his weapon steady. "We're just passing through." The construct's eyes flared. "Lies." Lyra stepped forward quickly, her fear buried under determination. "We're explorers. We seek knowledge. Who are you?" The construct's head turned as if considering. "Designation: Sentinel-7. Guardian of the Ark vessel Nytheris. You are not authorized to be here." Kael muttered, "Didn't think we'd be welcome." Lyra's voice was calm, almost gentle. "Sentinel-7, your ship is adrift and damaged. The storm outside will tear it apart. Let us help." The AI's gaze lingered on her. Then, slowly, it lowered its weapon. "Assistance… is acceptable. But betrayal will result in termination." Kael exhaled quietly, lowering his blaster slightly. "Guess we've got ourselves a host." Hours passed as Kael and Lyra followed Sentinel-7 through the derelict. The AI showed them systems still functioning, vast chambers filled with data cores, and energy conduits that flickered like dying stars. Lyra was entranced, asking questions and scanning everything she could. Kael, though fascinated, kept his focus on the danger—the storm, the AI, and the chance of Council pursuit. Finally, Sentinel-7 stopped before a crystalline console. "This vessel carries knowledge forbidden to your kind. But the Council seeks it. They sent hunters. You are hunted as well." Kael's jaw tightened. "So they knew about this ship." Lyra's eyes widened. "That's why they came to the outpost. Not just for Kael. For this." Kael glanced at her. For a moment, her face was lit by the blue glow, her expression fierce. Beautiful, dangerous, and utterly committed. Something stirred in him—more dangerous than any Council weapon. Sentinel-7 turned, its eyes glowing. "You seek survival. This vessel seeks preservation. Our purposes align." Kael smirked. "Sounds like the start of a partnership." Lyra's lips curved faintly. "Or the start of something much bigger."
