A missile barely missed hitting the perfectly clean and newly installed armor of the Silver Death, exploding way too close to Vindril’s liking. The shockwave…well, there wasn’t one to begin with. Unlike what people might have wrongly thought, outer space didn’t have enough air particles for a bomb to form a magnificent explosion like it would happen on any planet that had a dense enough atmosphere; a ball of fire would only erupt if the projectile managed to perforate and detonate inside the ship. So the result of most space battles resulted in a chaotic fight scene were one ship tried to destroy the other in a crash of metal against metal.. At least, that was the case when regular missiles were used.

Other weapons, such as the thermal cannons that had just been mounted on the Silver Death, and that were pretty much standard equipment on all vessels around the galaxy, were designed to overcame that obstacle.

If regular cannons simply shot regular ammunition, albeit at a high, high speed, that maximum they could achieve were some big holes. Their ammunitions didn’t have explosive charges in them, for whatever reason. So what was even the point of mounting such outdated weapons on the crème de la crème that the galaxy could offer? Money. Straight up money. It was just convenient. That was all.

Sure, there were many other weapons that could be mounted.

For example, the magnetic cannon that was mounted under the hull was as fearsome as any weapon was in the whole galaxy, having the power to obliterate a small ship in a fraction of a second; but it had a couple of major flows that just couldn’t be overlooked. For once, it required a shit ton of power to even fire off a shot. Power that took time and resources to replenish. Secondly, it wasn’t exactly easy manoeuvring something of that size. It wasn’t thought out to hit precisely. Matter of fact, its main strength was sheer devastation; which could be achieved at any given distance. Just…the greater the distance, the more off the shot would be.

Then there were missiles. Dear…old…missiles; like the one that had just missed the Silver Death Their job was as simple as they come. Penetrate the armor that protected all ships, all the while trying to ignore the magnetic waves the deflectors hit them with. Their problem? Unless they hit their target, they were pretty much useless. Even if they were to detonate in open space, releasing a bunch of hot gasses, the resulting explosion wouldn’t have been able to cause any lasting damage.

Vindril sighed nervously. A myriad of lights, some pulsing and some not, were scattered all around the dashboard in front of him, seated as he was on the captain’s chair, a comfy, and yet intimidating piece of furniture. Beside him, there was the so dreaded thing that would have allowed the A.I. to manifest itself in any shape or form it so desired. However, at the moment the thing laid there unused. No signs of the A.I. were perceived aboard the ship; and Vindril felt even more nervous than showing it clearly in front of everybody. A sense of dread and danger, which was completely unrelated to the fights they had to win, or evade in order to make the jump to hyper speed, overwhelmed him. Fortunately, the others were too busy coordinating the attack on the most nearby targets to notice it. Still, what a great first flight…

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his mind elaborating all the data it had at its disposal at what might have been light speed. Was the A.I. “awake”, but pretending to be docile? Was it waiting for the perfect moment to kill them all, who knows, maybe by opening all the doors to create a vacuum that would suck in all the air inside the ship? Or perhaps that thing was so sadistic that it was going to kill them by slowly releasing the poisonous radiation that the powerful engines emitted by tampering with the shields that have be-

He stopped. That was outright impossible. To tamper with those heavy and perfectly anchored to the frame shields, physical presence was needed. And the A.I.., while it might have the power to take over the ship’s controls, it didn’t have a body to take possession of. To be honest, back at the hangar, while everyone was getting on board, Warbren included, the thought had crossed his mind the moment the droid had oh so kindly moved the cryo capsule to the lower floors of the ship. Speaking off, he also had to decide what to do with that thing. But he also supposed that was a problem for a later time. Matter of priorities, you see?

Anyway, he was shocked to see how well, all things considered, the crew was operating with one another. And they also were doing it under pressure, so that was a big plus in Vindril’s mental list of checks. However, even if things were strangely looking up for them, he couldn’t relax. The captain, his rightful role since he was as a matter of fact the registered owner of the Silver Death, couldn’t just sit back and let the others do the dirty work. A captain shouldn’t act like that; and that was especially the true for Vindril, who was technically the youngest. In other words, unlike most people plagued with the burden of command, who sort of had the skills and seniority such a role entailed (at least that was their subordinates hoped for), he had to demonstrate he deserved to be the one in charge. A crew that didn’t follow his orders, when it was strictly necessary, would cause so many problems down the line.

Having decided how to act, his first instinct was to grab the console commands that were nearby and input some coordinates to fire of the six thermal cannons the ship had at its disposal; but Sorin sudden movements made him pause. The man clearly had the skills to pilot any kind of space craft he laid his hands on, as it was evident by the nimble and precise inputs that were making the ship move in all her grace and majesty. Those weren’t the movements of a skilled, but mostly untrained man, who mostly relied on luck and improvisation. Not at all. In order to reach that level of skill, precision, and agility in inputting the right commands at the right time, many, many, many hours of constant training were needed. So it was obvious why Vindril felt a little bit confused by it all. After all, if Sorin was such a skilled man, job opportunities wouldn’t have been a problem for him; the galaxy was full of organizations, companies, and governments that were on the constant lookout to hire or discover their new ace pilot. So why had Sorin lowered himself in doing such a minuscule job, all thing considered, for such a meagre pay? His skilled clearly deserved way much more money. Also, Vindril couldn’t exactly rack his brain around why he had suddenly decided to come with him, when he had initially refused him flatly. That he had done so while all that hell had broken loose was only adding to the mystery of the man. Who was he really…?

He stopped before his brain even had the chance to finish that thought. Now wasn’t the time to think about such complexities. He had a battle to untangle.

The first thing to do was find a way to get away from the fighters that had surely been alerted since the moment they left Keelo Prime’s atmosphere, leaving behind the shop that was so dear to him. Vindril walked over to the console, and hit the command to activate the disruptor, which was located just over their heads. With its electromagnetic pulses that fluctuated in waves of different dimensions and lengths, that little contraption was one of the most important pieces to have on a combat ready ship. Its purpose? Disrupt all the automatic weapons that it perceived targeted at the ship. Now, it might sound overpowered; but it wasn’t. You see, while it was a thing that was indispensable to fight on equal footing (so to speak) against any of the endless plethora of enemies that swarmed the dark corners of the galaxy, it was not like it had the power to disable all enemy weapons. The best it could do was buy the very brief moments that could be exploited before the computers circumvolved its disruption. Not exactly the solution to all problems it might have appeared as, right?

Fortunately, that wasn’t the only option Vindril could tackle on to protect his own precious skin…and those of the others, of course. Problem was, that ship was alien to him. While a common enough disposition of things had been assured and carried out by the many people that had worked with their loving care on the Silver Death, obviously cursing his name for the endless hours they had to spend at work just to get this ship done in time, some things had been installed as best they could. Not that there were pieces badly installed. Not at all. They just had to get…a little creative with some objects in order for them to fit. The end result? A neatly command bridge, packed full to the brim with lights, and buttons, and tech that it wouldn’t have disfigured against the enormous bridges of some destroyer class ships. And exactly like a destroyer, it needed time to get used to. So how the hell was he supposed to know how to activate the more obscure functions that had been mounted onboard?

Vindril studied, albeit briefly, the console that was in front of him, glancing all around him at record speed. At first, every single button, every single light that was coming on and off rhythmically, seemed to strangely merge together; but then again, every new technological marvel seemed a little bit strange and overpowering at first. It was a perfectly lined up console, that however yielded few information on how to accomplish what he had in mind.

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Sorin instead wasn’t having any of those complexities somehow. Just how-

“Press that.” Ordered Sorin concentrated, running his right hand at record speed over some commands. His other one was firmly gripping and manoeuvring the cloche, avoiding all the debris that was floating endlessly around the planet.

“What’s that?” he asked blinking.

“Just-just do it, damn it! I already have my hands full enough as it is!”

Vindril grumbled. But he still did it nonetheless.

The Silver Death’s engines came to life like never before, sprinting the ship forward with such a propulsion that it would have surely launched everyone to the back were it not for the G-damper that was installed in…well, somewhere. The projectiles that had been launched against them became mere pins that would be lost in the emptiness of space, journeying across the infinite night until they hit something. A jovial and yet reserved atmosphere suddenly manifested. It seemed those engines were really a marvel to be seen after all. Gooood. Mybe they were going to survive after all.

A tremendous cannon shot, big and powerful like never before, hit the shields that the generator were projecting all around the ship as a second, ethereal skin. The ship shook, voicing her evident displeasure in being treated that way. But the shields had done their job, deviating the incoming projectile that would have for surely damaged the brand-new armor.

“Shit! Fucking shit! What the hell?” asked Sully. Concern was making his voice tremble slightly. “I don’t know a thing about starships, but we should be in the clear!”

Vindril smiled incredulous. That was not the cannon shot of a small or medium sized vessel; and it obviously wasn’t something a fighter could do. The power necessary to make a ship the size of the Silver Death shake like that could only be found…on the big boys of the galaxy. Shit. “Fuck…That could be the power of a destroyer.”

Sorin’s eyes shot up, perhaps a little angry too. “Why the fuck are so calm about this?! That’s a big problem!”

“First the radar doesn’t detect the presence of anything that big. And I seriously doubt that it’s not working properly. After all the time, money, and work that has been put in it, the radar cannot be the problem.” he paused. “Secondly, we’re faster than they could ever be. So why don’t jump to hyper speed while we can, instead of waiting to find out if I’m right?”

“You’re crazy. You’re absolutely nuts!” he stated as a matter of fact. “This vessel hasn’t gone through any of the tests necessary to observe if everything is functioning as it should in order to safely jump at Hyper speed. To jump like that is utter lunacy!”

“If we don’t make the jump now, we’re as good as dead. You know it.”

“…Shiiiiit!”

As Sorin hands kept on inputting commands at light speed, the engines, the computers, and every little thing that needed to be perfectly calibrated reached the optimal settings required in order to activate the star navigator assistant, also known as S.N.A., a beeping sound suddenly appeared, attracting everyone’s attention.

“What the hell is that?” asked Jarik, who was curious about it. It was no wonder, really. When he came across something even remotely related to starships, his interest was immediately picked. And this time was probably the same.

Vindril shrugged. Firstly, because he couldn’t care less about a single button beeping. Secondly, they had a jump to program. Surely Jarik could wait until the reached a safe place to satiate his thirst for knowledge-

“Who the fuck care what that is!” yelled Sully, who was clearly agitated. It seemed space fights, chaotic and unpredictable as they were, weren’t exactly his cup of tea. Well, he was the one that had agreed to board the ship, so he couldn’t complain if he experienced the whole package. “We should get the hell out of here now that we’ve a chance!”

“…I agree.” added Luzir.

“What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do?” screamed annoyed Sorin.

“Then why the fuck are we still here?”

“Ehi, smartass! Why don’t you take my seat and pilot this thing if you’re so good? I wouldn’t mind relaxing, you know!?”

“Eh! Maybe I should, if you’re so slow!”

Sorin cursed out loud, always keeping his eyes fixed on the console he was still fiddling with. “I swear, every single time, there’s always a fucker that wants to mess with me. Every…fucking…time. Why can’t I find a peaceful environment?”

“With the way you’re piloting, we’re already good as dead. Pretty peaceful in death.”

“…That’s it. I’m gonna fucking kill this pocket-sized man.”

Vindril opened his mouth to shut them up. But he quickly reconsidered. While he had though that damned beeping could be left unchecked, at least until they were safely out of there, the constant sound was slowly getting on his nerves.

Vindril’s heart quickened. Had something already broke? Had the ship already sustained some damage? Perhaps they didn’t manage to evade that list hit without consequences…No. That couldn’t be it. The display in front of them clearly showed that the ship was in pristine condition. Was it a signal of the A.I. coming back to life? Now, what the hell was he supposed to do if that was the case?

“I think we should-” he tried to say. But Ar interrupted him, moving right beside the beeping sound.

“You’re all being ridiculous.” they said, pressing down a single button on the console that had some sort of symbol engraved on it. Then they turned around to address everybody. “You, get the ship ready for hyper travel. You, calm down and stay on the lookout for troubles. You…keep doing what you’re doing. And you-”

They turned towards Vindril, staring at him in the eyes. “If you’re to captain this ship, than act like one. Answer the call.”

“…call? What call?”

Ar grumbled. “That’s the sound of an incoming transmission! C’mon now. Get a moving!”

With that, they pressed a second button. Mere moments later, a projection quickly appeared in front of everybody, making them all pause. There, standing still in all his majesty and power, there was Instructor Klevaric. Or his projection. Vindril had not seen him since their first meeting all those months ago. And yet it had not taken him even a second to recognize him. Those cold, calculating eyes that were now silently staring at him had evidently left an impression. Perhaps even more than what he liked to admit.

“…Instruct Klevaric…”

“…Mr. Vindril…” he said coldly. “You’re in the possession of something that rightfully belongs to the Empire. I want it back.”

“You know, I’m not inclined to oblige, Instructor.” he said calmly. “Trying to get us killed left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”

“…Under normal circumstances, I might have even found all of this amusing; entertaining even. I can appreciate a man that has the strength to carve out his own destiny. I truly do.”

“Then why try to get me killed?”

The Instructor smiled darkly. “Because, frankly speaking, you’re a nobody. A nobody that can be disposed of without anyone asking about you. All of you are, for that matter. Why pay for something when I can have it for free? Also, it’s never wise to leave loose ends.”

“…Then why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I must make you realize the foolishness of your actions.” he took a step forward, making the hologram zoom on his face. “The thing that you’ve stolen from the Empire is dangerous. The woman inside is a threat to the Empire’s plans; more than you could ever realize. She won’t be allowed to roam free in the galaxy. That just is not going to happen. The emperor is going to deploy the entire imperial fleet to hunt your little ship down. You can escape if you want to, but they’ll eventually catch up with you. You and your…conspirators will be tortured for weeks, maybe even months, before death will be granted. If ever…”

Vindril looked around with his peripheral vision, always maintaining eye level with the intimidating man. He hoped with all his might that the engines had reached the conditions to jump at hyper speed. But it seemed that he had to buy just a little tiny bit of time more for them to be ready. A thing that proved to be a little difficult than what he thought, as an eerie silence had taken over the entire ship.

“Err…” started Vindril. “That is if you catch us. And you can believe that we won’t be getting caught any time soon. I might be a nobody as you said; but you can be sure I can be pretty obstinate when I want to.”

“I don’t know.” said the Instructor confidently. “Many things could go wrong, you know. Many factors must be considered in order to move accordingly to your wishes. So I ask you, why not just stop this madness and free yourself from the early grave you seem so eager to end up in? Why not stop, and do the sensible thing?”

Vindril played pretend. “…I’m listening…”

“Turn around and board the orbital station. Leave the capsule there. You have my word I’ll be sure to allow all to retain your lives.”

“…I admit it’s tempting.”

“Then you must-”

“But I don’t think it’s in my interests to do so. Well, in all of ours.”

“…Is that your answer? Think very, very carefully before you respond…”

In that moment, a little blue light came on. And if Vindril wasn’t mistaken, that was the signal of the engines reaching optimal operation temperature to jump at hyper speed. A smirk appeared on his face, making him look like a little madman.

“…See you later, Instructor.”

That was all that Sorin needed to make the jump. The planet behind them disappeared in an instant, and the millions of stars around them compressed and passed them by without ever hitting them at unimaginable speed. They did it. The were safe.

…Or were they?

They couldn’t have known it in that moment, but something had woken up from its slumber. Something powerful, and inorganic…