Into the Void

True courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it. - The Republic Codex

The bulkhead door thunders open and we spill into Dock 3 amid flashing red lights and blaring klaxons. The acrid stench of burning fuel and hot metal assaults my nose. Across the bay, the freighter Stardancer looms - a battered, rust - streaked ship hovering a meter off the deck on repulsors, engines whining as they power up for takeoff. Its loading ramp is retracting, and I catch a glimpse of workers scrambling aboard, faces etched with panic.

“Wait!” Tarin shouts, sprinting forward with hand raised. His voice is barely audible over the alarm. I race after him, Zara close at my side. My heart pounds as the massive freighter begins to inch backward toward the bay’s space doors. If we miss it, there’s no escape.

A tremor from another impact nearly knocks us off our feet. I stumble against a cargo crate as part of a ceiling panel shakes loose and crashes to the floor. Tarin regains his footing without stopping. He waves both arms now. “Stardancer, hold on!”

For an agonizing second I think the ramp will close fully and seal our fates. But then, miraculously, it halts. A stocky man in a stained captain’s vest appears in the freighter’s hatch, bracing himself in the frame with wide - eyed indecision.

“You coming? Move it!” he barks through the din.

Relief surges through me. He’s giving us a chance. Tarin is already leaping across the widening gap as the freighter drifts. Zara grabs my arm. “Jump!” she urges, and together we dash forward. Tarin reaches back and catches Zara’s wrist as she jumps, hauling her aboard. I’m half a step behind; the loading ramp is a half - meter off the bay floor and rising fast. With a burst of desperate speed I hurl myself up and forward.

My boots leave the deck - and for an instant I’m airborne, arms flailing over open space. Strong hands seize the back of my jacket and yank me upward. I gasp as I’m pulled onto the ramp’s metal grating. My knees scrape and I sprawl onto the freighter’s deck. Zara grips my arm to steady me as I scramble fully inside. Below us, the ramp clanks shut just as another tremor shudders through the bay.

Inside the freighter’s cargo hold, darkness and chaos reign. The only light comes from spinning red emergency beacons on the bulkheads. Half - secured crates and netting sway with the ship’s motion. The engines’ whine builds to a roar under our feet - we’re lifting off.

“We’re aboard,” Tarin pants into a wrist comm. Perhaps he’s speaking to what remains of D’cairn control - though likely no one is listening. I feel a pang of guilt and grief. In the span of minutes, I lost my father and now I’m fleeing my home, leaving everyone I know to face Malkeos’s wrath. The thought makes my stomach clench. But I can’t falter now. Father entrusted me with something vital. If I stayed, D’cairn Station would burn for nothing. At least this way I draw the danger away.

Zara squeezes my shoulder, grounding me. I rise to my feet, legs unsteady as the Stardancer pitches. Through a small porthole in the hold, I catch sight of the bay doors peeling open and the star - flecked void beyond.

“Get to the bridge, strap in!” the captain hollers. He’s already clambering up a ladder toward an upper deck. Tarin doesn’t hesitate, following close behind. I exchange a glance with Zara, and we chase them as the ship accelerates.

We emerge into a cramped cockpit cluttered with flickering consoles. The captain throws himself into the pilot’s chair and grabs the control yoke. Beside him, a nervous co - pilot wrestles with navigation readouts. Tarin braces behind the pilot’s seat, one hand gripping the back for support. Zara and I press ourselves against a bulkhead railing just as the Stardancer hurtles free of the station.

Through the forward viewport, D’cairn Station shrinks away - an illuminated wheel against darkness. Streaks of fire mark where debris and vented atmosphere trail from the wounded docking ring. My throat tightens at the sight of my home under siege: emergency lights blinking along the hull, one of the solar arrays sheared clean off and spinning away. The station is dying in silence.

Then a new silhouette fills the viewport - sleek and predatory. A dagger - shaped corvette, hull matte black with a red insignia on its side, slices through the darkness above the station. Malkeos’s ship. My blood runs cold.

“There she is,” the captain mutters. “That the bastard chasing you lot?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Alarms begin whooping on his console, and he yanks the control yoke hard. “Hang on!”

I grab the nearest chair base as the freighter veers sharply. A searing lance of light cuts across the void where we’d been an instant before - enemy fire from the corvette’s forward guns.

“Evasive pattern!” Tarin shouts. “Make yourself a hard target.”

The captain snaps back, voice strained, “You want to fly this thing, Lieutenant? She’s a fat ore hauler, not a fighter!” Despite his panic, he jerks the freighter into a wrenching corkscrew roll. My stomach lurches. Outside, a cannon bolt grazes past, narrowly missing our hull but spraying shards of molten metal from a sensor fin. The whole ship rattles like a tin can in a gale.

“Return fire!” Tarin commands.

“Are you insane?!” the co - pilot yelps, fingers flying over controls. “We’ve got one auto - turret, it’s peashooters against that armor.” Even so, the freighter’s lone dorsal gun begins spitting tracers futilely toward the pursuing corvette.

Another volley from Malkeos’s ship lights up the stars. The Stardancer bucks violently. Sparks erupt from a panel behind us and the cockpit lights flicker. I bite back a cry as Zara’s arm braces across me, pinning us to the wall. Tarin clutches an overhead pipe to stay upright.

“They’re targeting our engines!” Tarin says, eyes on the aft sensor display. “If they disable us before we jump - ”

If that happens, we’ll be boarded or blown apart. A surge of determination steadies my racing heart. We cannot be caught. Too much rests on us getting away.

“Missile lock!” the co - pilot warns as a red light strobes on the console. The captain slams a fist on a countermeasure panel, and a burst of chaff deploys - a cloud of reflective debris glittering behind us.

Through the rear camera feed, I see the white - hot streak of a missile cutting through space toward our ship. The decoy cloud confuses it for a heartbeat, causing it to swerve. It detonates early, a blossoming flash. Even so, the shockwave hits like a giant’s fist. The Stardancer lurches forward. I’m thrown to the deck, pain jolting through my shoulder. Zara tumbles down beside me.

“Jump! Now!” Tarin hollers.

The captain shoves the throttle forward. A sudden press of acceleration pins me momentarily to the floor. I claw my way up enough to glimpse the view ahead: the fabric of space distorting, stars stretching into streaks. Another cannon bolt from the corvette scorches past, too late. With a flash of light, the stars twist - and the Stardancer leaps into hyperspace.

A tremendous jolt, then calm. The cockpit’s shaking stills, replaced by a low, steady hum. Through the viewport swirls the ethereal blue tunnel of faster - than - light travel.

For a moment, none of us speak. I realize I’ve been holding my breath and exhale shakily. My entire body feels taut as a drawn wire.

Zara, still half atop me from our fall, releases her grip on my arm. We sit up on the cockpit floor, staring at each other in disbelief. We escaped. Against all odds, we pulled free of Malkeos’s grasp - at least for now.

Tarin is the first to break the silence. “Status?” he asks the captain, voice hushed, almost disbelieving.

Captain Renaud lets out a nervous laugh that borders on hysterical. “We’re in one piece,” he answers, hands trembling as he eases back on the throttle slightly. Sweat glistens on his forehead. “Jump successful. That missile knocked out our stern sensors and shields are low, but engines are intact.” He glances back at us. “We clear?”

The co - pilot checks a console. “No sign of pursuit in the FTL wake. Looks like we lost them.”

A collective sigh passes through the cramped cockpit. I slump against the bulkhead, chest heaving. We made it out. We’re alive.

Zara turns to me, pushing a lock of dark hair from her eyes. In the flickering light, I see concern tempered by relief. “You alright?”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah. Are you?”

She nods back, managing a faint, shaky smile. Tarin offers both of us a hand up. We rise on unsteady legs. I notice a streak of blood on Tarin’s flank - his uniform scorched by shrapnel.

“You’re hurt,” I say, pointing to the gash.

He wipes the blood away with a rag from the console, dismissing it. “Just a scratch.”

Captain Renaud swivels his chair to face us, fear giving way to anger now that immediate danger has passed. “What in blazes was that about? Who are you people, and why did a warlord’s corvette just try to vaporize my freighter?” He jabs a finger at Tarin’s uniform. “Arcadian Patrol? And dragging civilians - ”

Tarin steps forward, shoulders squared. “Lieutenant Tarin, Arcadian Patrol,” he says firmly. “These two are under my protection. We regret bringing trouble to you, Captain…?”

“Renaud,” the man snaps, smoke from a hastily lit roll - up curling around his scowl. “Protection, you say? Hell of a job you’re doing, Lieutenant. You nearly got us all killed!”

My cheeks burn with shame and lingering adrenaline. “You think we wanted this?” I burst out before Tarin can respond. “Malkeos attacked our station and killed innocent people. He’s hunting us. If we hadn’t gotten on your ship, we’d be dead - and he’d still have tried to shoot you down just for leaving. We’re all in danger because of him, not us.”

Renaud narrows his eyes. Tarin shoots me a cautioning look, but Zara steps in, her tone placating. “Captain Renaud, we’re grateful you let us aboard. You saved our lives and perhaps your own.” She bows her head slightly. “Thank you.”

At that, some of the tension in Renaud’s face eases. He grunts, stubbing out his smoke. “Just my luck picking up passengers with the devil on their tail.” His voice softens a notch. “I’ll drop you at the next hub station. Then I’m done, understand? No more detours.”

Tarin nods. “Understood. And thank you.”

Renaud turns back to his controls with a dismissive wave. “A few hours in hyperspace till Vega outpost. Make yourselves scarce till then.”

Dismissed, we quietly leave the cockpit. As we descend into the dim corridor, the reality of all that’s happened catches up to me in a rush. My legs feel suddenly weak. We find an empty crew mess - just a bolted - down table and a few benches under flickering lights. We collapse onto the seats, a shaky silence settling over us.

I rub my hands over my face. Now that the adrenaline is ebbing, grief for Father and fear of what lies ahead crash down. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you two,” I murmur hoarsely, breaking the silence. “Thank you.”

Zara offers me a small, warm smile. “We’re in this together now, Jameus.”

Tarin inclines his head. “Just doing my duty… though this mission has become far more than I anticipated.” He almost smiles, then winces and presses a hand to his side where the shrapnel grazed him. A dark stain has spread on his jacket.

“Let’s tend that,” I say, retrieving a first - aid kit magnetically clipped beneath the table. Despite Tarin’s protests, Zara and I clean and bandage the shallow cut along his ribs. It’s not deep - just a red groove where a hot shard sliced him.

Once we’ve patched him up, we settle around the table. I gently set Father’s leather - bound notebook on the metal surface and untie the velvet pouch to spill out the three small stone tokens he gave me. In the sterile light of the mess, the carved symbols catch the eye: a flame, a sword, a sun - and - eye. Zara and Tarin lean closer, examining them.

“These must be what Malkeos wants,” Tarin says softly. “The tokens and whatever’s in that journal.”

I nod, running a thumb over the flame - etched token. “My father said they’re keys - representing virtues. And he wrote about something called the Codex and the Triad in his journal.” I tap the cover of the notebook, scuffed and stained from years of handling. “I think he meant for me to find a place called Oratorio. A sanctuary of the old Republic.”

Tarin’s brow furrows. “Oratorio… I know that name from history classes. An order of monks from the Republic of Harmony days. I thought their sanctuaries were all lost or destroyed.”

“Maybe not completely,” I say. “Father rarely talked about it openly, but he taught me Harmony’s philosophy in secret. I suspect Oratorio still exists - and Malkeos is after something hidden there. Father wanted me to reach it first.”

Zara runs her fingers lightly over the notebook’s cover. “Then we find Oratorio. Before Malkeos does.”

Tarin nods, glancing at the tokens. “If Oratorio is real, do we even know where to look? It may not be on any map.”

I open the notebook carefully. Pages of dense, neat handwriting greet us, interspersed with sketches and symbols. My father’s thoughts made ink. With Tarin and Zara reading over my shoulders, I flip through looking for clues. Familiar words jump out: Harmony’s Codex, Triad, Keldan, Oratorio. My heart quickens.

Zara points to a line of numbers in the margin of one entry. “These look like coordinates.”

Indeed, Father penciled a small series of star coordinates next to the name Odrys. On another page he wrote of a “sanctuary on Oratorio’s moon” and Master Keldan. Odrys… I recall that name from old astrography charts.

Tarin snaps his fingers. “Odrys Prime is a gas giant in a nearby sector. Uninhabited officially - but if Oratorio is a ‘lost moon’, it could orbit there off the grid.”

Comparing the star map sketched in the back of the journal to nav data, we find a triad symbol marking a specific moon around Odrys Prime. My breath catches. Father left the breadcrumb we needed.

“It’s there,” I whisper. “He marked Oratorio’s location in code.”

Zara grins, relief breaking through her fatigue. “Then that’s where we go.”

Tarin’s expression hardens with resolve. “Captain Renaud plans to drop us at the Vega trade outpost. From there, we’ll need to secure transport to Odrys. Legally or otherwise.”

Zara smirks. “Preferably quick and quiet. We can’t risk Malkeos catching up.”

I gently close Father’s journal, hugging it to my chest. We have a destination - and a purpose. “Whatever it takes,” I say firmly.

The ship’s intercom crackles on. “Dropping out of hyperspace in two minutes,” Renaud announces tersely. Through a porthole, I see the swirling blue outside begin to distort back to starlight. Our stolen respite is ending.

Tarin secures the notebook and tokens back in my satchel, then tucks his pistol into its holster. Zara straightens her jacket and brushes stray hair from her face. We exchange determined nods.

The Stardancer decelerates with a jolt. Out the viewport, a bustling freeport station comes into view - Vega Nexus, a web of docking spires and lights against the void. Almost immediately, a proximity alarm whoops from the cockpit.

“What the - ?!” I hear Renaud curse.

I rush to a corridor viewport. Two silhouettes have dropped out of hyperspace behind us - sleek, armed craft bearing down fast. A cold shock runs through me. It’s Malkeos’s corvette, flanked by a smaller gunship. They found us.

“Captain, get us out of here!” Tarin shouts into the comm.

On cue, an authoritative voice crackles over comms: “Freighter Stardancer, cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. Comply and you may live.” It’s not Malkeos, but one of his hirelings - still, the threat is clear.

Renaud’s panicked voice erupts over the intercom, “They tracked us! I - I can’t outrace them.”

Zara’s eyes flash with alarm. “He must’ve placed a beacon on us or the captain signaled him!”

Tarin grimaces. “No time - prepare to repel boarders.” He draws his pistol. I reach into my jacket for the small utility knife Father gave me long ago - not much, but something.

The Stardancer shudders as grappling clamps latch onto our hull. A distant grinding tells of an airlock being forced.

“Here!” Tarin hisses, pulling Zara and me behind a stack of supply crates in a corridor adjacent to the port airlock. He positions himself opposite us in a shallow doorway, weapon ready. We’ve barely taken cover when a circular patch of the hull starts glowing orange - plasma torches cutting through.

My heart hammers in my throat. I tighten my sweaty grip on the knife. Zara crouches beside me, eyes trained forward, knife drawn as well.

With a shower of sparks, the hull plate falls inward. Smoke billows, and armed shapes pour through the breach.

A flashbang clatters in, erupting in light. My ears ring and vision spots. Through it, I see three armored figures fanning out, rifles up.

Tarin moves first - a blur in the haze as he fires twice. One intruder drops with a cry. Tarin lunges out and smashes his pistol across the helmet of a second, knocking him to the deck.

The third assailant raises his rifle toward Tarin’s exposed side. Without thinking, I break cover and throw my knife. By luck or miracle, the blade sticks into the man’s shoulder joint. He yells and his shot goes wide.

Zara springs up and tackles the third mercenary around the knees, driving him hard into the bulkhead. His rifle clatters away. She presses her knife to his throat from behind. “Don’t move,” she growls. He freezes.

In seconds, it’s over - three of Malkeos’s boarders neutralized. My chest heaves as the acrid smoke clears. I can’t believe we prevailed.

A slow, ominous clapping comes from the ragged breach. My stomach drops. Through the haze steps Malkeos himself, clad in a black combat coat. Flanking him are two more of his men and behind them, others.

“Well done,” Malkeos drawls, gloved hands coming together in mocking applause. His icy gaze sweeps over Tarin, Zara, and me. Despite the turmoil, his composure is chilling. “Aldren’s cub has claws after all.”

Tarin raises his pistol at Malkeos, but the warlord’s henchmen all aim their rifles back. “Drop it,” Malkeos says flatly. Tarin’s jaw clenches. After a moment, he slowly lowers his weapon and lets it fall. Zara reluctantly releases her captive and kicks her knife away. I stand there, feeling painfully small as Malkeos’s cold blue eyes fix on me.

“Jameus, isn’t it?” he says almost pleasantly. “Where is the notebook?” He flicks his fingers and one of his men lunges forward, wrenching my satchel off my shoulder. I try to fight, but another mercenary forces the barrel of a gun against my neck.

They tear the satchel open and triumphantly produce Father’s journal and the pouch of tokens. My heart twists seeing those in Malkeos’s hands.

A thin smile curves Malkeos’s lips. “There we are.” He opens the journal, flipping through with a greedy spark in his eyes. Then he closes it and slips it inside his coat, alongside the velvet pouch with two of the tokens. My token - the flame - still rests hidden in my jacket pocket, the one small comfort.

Malkeos steps closer, until he looms over me. I refuse to back away, though my knees tremble. He leans down, face inches from mine. “Your father was a fool. Are you?” he whispers. “Give me what I want, and perhaps I won’t vent this ship to space with you inside.”

Anger flares through my fear. “My father died to keep this from you,” I spit. “And I won’t hand it over either.”

Malkeos’s expression hardens to stone. “Very well.” He straightens and barks to his men, “Bind them and bring them aboard. Kill any others on this ship.”

Pandemonium ensues. We’re dragged toward the still - attached boarding tube connecting to Malkeos’s corvette. Captain Renaud peeks from the cockpit doorway, face white - he ducks back as a mercenary fires a warning shot at him.

Within moments, our wrists are bound with zip - cords and we’re shoved into the tunnel. My mind whirls. I can’t let Malkeos take us or Father’s secrets. I catch Tarin’s eye ahead of me; his hands are tied but I see him subtly working at the cord.

Halfway across the tube, Malkeos’s men herd us forward. The corvette’s hatch yawns ahead. Despair threatens to overwhelm me - we’re so close to Oratorio, but if we’re captured now, all is lost.

Suddenly Tarin twists, jostling the mercenary holding him. In one lightning move, he snatches a pistol from the thug’s holster and fires downwards. The shot echoes painfully in the enclosed tube - and the floor beneath our captors’ feet blows apart, ruptured by Tarin’s point - blank blast.

Alarms blare. The boarding tube’s emergency bolts detonate with pops, separating it from the Stardancer. The entire tunnel lurches and starts depressurizing violently.

I’m flung hard against a wall as atmosphere roars out into space. Malkeos curses, gripping a handhold by the corvette’s end. In the chaos, Tarin grabs Zara and me, shoving us back toward the freighter side. With a tremendous effort, he slams the Stardancer’s inner airlock panel. The hatch slams shut just as the boarding tube tears completely free.

We collapse onto the freighter’s corridor floor as the disconnected tube - along with Malkeos and his remaining men - drifts away into vacuum.

Everything goes eerily silent except our ragged breathing. The ship’s alarm whoops as Renaud quickly seals the breach. I stare at Tarin and Zara in astonishment. We’re alive. We’re free.

Zara lets out a shaky, hysterical laugh that I soon find I’m sharing. Tarin actually grins, slumping against a bulkhead with exhaustion. He’s still holding the flame - carved token in his hand - the token must have fallen from Malkeos’s grasp and Tarin seized it.

“We have to go, now!” Renaud hollers over the intercom. The Stardancer, free from the corvette’s clamp, begins to accelerate away from Vega port.

I help Zara and Tarin to their feet. Through a porthole, I see Malkeos’s corvette drifting behind, disentangling from the ruined boarding tube. It’s falling back - perhaps momentarily crippled or simply thrown off by our maneuver.

A moment later, stars stretch again as Captain Renaud punches to hyperspace. The mercenary ship disappears from view. Malkeos is left behind once more.

In the sudden calm of FTL transit, the three of us sink into a huddle on the deck, trembling with relief. Tarin still clutches the flame token. He presses it into my palm.

“One left,” he murmurs with a ghost of a smile.

I nod, tears of gratitude in my eyes. “One left.” Father’s legacy isn’t lost after all. And we still have each other.

Zara wraps us both in an embrace. “We’re okay,” she whispers, voice shaking. “We’re okay.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, leaning into my friends. Somehow, against all odds, we have survived once more. And ahead, hidden among the stars, lies the refuge my father sacrificed everything for us to find.

We’ve come this far. We will see it through.