The Spirit of Freedom opened fire upon fifty ships, all of which erupted into nothing more than floating gore and debris. Arscott commanded, not simply manned, the weapon systems. Her eyes wide with pyschotic intent. "Nobody... stands... in... his... WAY!" She screamed out as concussive shells, hyper-ionized plasma bolts, and every other torpedo, cannon, and projectile bent to her will.
Tra-Ka'hn watched his armada he'd spent years amassing... was reduced to floating corpses, mangled debris, fully unrecognizable and unidentifiable. He'd spent everyday since the massacre of his people building a ship to rival the Spirit of Freedom. His crew opened fire on the Spirit of Freedom ripping her shield apart. Fully committing themselves to a fate worse than death. Between Prescott's piloting, Arscott's weapons' mastery, and Jetscott's ability to counterplot each of Tra-Ka'hn's moves, the fight was anything but fair.
Prescott had spent most of his early career hunting down "his" crew. If he was going send a message, he'd need a crew that could keep up with him, work with his strategies, and go all in, no matter the cost. The Spirit of Freedom had no shields, but had well more firepower than anything Tra-Ka'hn could've ever imagine. For the slaughter of his homeworld, was a fragment of the punishment the Spirit of Freedom was unleashing upon his ship, had unleashed upon his armada... However, there was a key factor the Tro-Dorian forgot to account for... the battleground's physical location.
Prescott had successfully flipped their positions, the Spirit of Freedom facing the blackhole, while Tra-Ka'hn's ship, losing ground, backing ever so close to the event horizon of the blackhole. Prescott glare at Arscott, the pair locking as as Prescott gave her a direct order. "Target his engines... then open fire everything we have. Push that motherfucking parasite over the event horizon... and don't stop firing until the debris is nothing but atoms." Arscott grinned as she locked onto every single engine component of her enemy's ship. She then open fired everything the Spirit of Freedom had, saving one final weapon for last.
Warning alarms blared about Tra-Ka'hn's ship, drowning out his crews' screams of sheer terror. Their engines were on the brink of total failure, their FTL Drive reduced to space dust. Running on nothing but impulse engine alone, allowed a third of his ship to slip over the event horizon. Stress cracked ripped across the bridge, the hull was totally compromised. At this moment, Tra-Ka'hn realized there was in fact a worse thing than death. Arscott revealed the ace she'd been keeping in reserve... as it was the only weapon not used upon his homeworld... known across every civilization as a "planet cracker", or in other terms, a projectile strong enough to destroy whole planets. Tra-Ka'hn watched through eyes filled with incomphrensible levels of civilization-killing fear ad that planet cracker ripped across space and slammed into the bridge of his ship.
However, this wasn't a weapon legally allowed to utilized in ship-to-ship warfare for one, very good reason. As the debris of Tra-Ka'hn's ship fell into the blackhole, the planet cracker revealed why it was prohibited by almost every civilization. It torn time and space asunder as a second, far larger and more powerful blackhole burst forth the center of the already existing blackhole. "Shit..." Said Arscott, as the Spirit of Freedom, was caught in the dueling blackholes event horizons. Prescott flipped the ship around and diverted all power into the helix drivers. This wasn't a battle any ship nor captain could win.
Meanwhile, Terra Prime announced to the Milky Way of the Sol-Terra Everlasting's successful arrival at their new colony... Theta One. However, mid-broadcast, Prescott overrode the program... "This is Captain of the USS Spirit of Freedom! All hands...", Prescott's copper-colored eyes glared into the cam-corder at the helm of his ship... "Brace for Singularity entry..." The Broadcast cut out as Prescott flipped the ship around, and forced the Spirit of Freedom's Dual Helix-Drivers 500% past their limits. The ship's signal vanished from all eyes, radars, scans, and sweeps as the Spirit of Freedom fired itself into the blackholes' dueling centers.
The gravitational pressure rendered all but the Tetrad unconscious. The deeper they dove, the more intense the pressure got. Several minutes passed, now it was just Prescott conscious. He fought the ship's controls, pushing the whole Interstellar-Battleship well past anything it had been designed to withstand. Prescott was on the verge of blacking out, when the dark shroud of the blackhole vanished into nothing but pure light. The Spirit of Freedom was ejected well past lightspeed into an uncharted, unknown, unexplored region of deep space even sattelites couldn't see. Prescott fought to stay conscious as the Spirit of Freedom was no longer able to avoid atmospheric entry. The Interstellar-Battleship slammed into the atomosphere of this unknown planet, slowing it down significantly. Enough for Prescott to regain some control of the ship.
His eyes were bleeding as he fired every re-entry thruster the ship had. Smoke bellowed from the twin nacelles of the ship. Prescott narrowly avoid mountain collision, avoid jungles, but without functional nacelles, the Spirit of Freedom, while leveled out, slammed into the dirt, ripping out a whole swath of land, finally knocking Prescott unconscious... stranded on an unknown world, far, far, far away from home....