The journey aboard the Firehawk had been a quiet couple of weeks, but as the vessel approached the end of its time in flux space, an air of unease settled over the ship and its crew. The Vindicators were among those who felt it most keenly; as most of them were espers, they could sense something was off long before the ship's sensors detected anything amiss.

As Novak stepped out of his quarters and into the Firehawk's central corridor, he was greeted by a flurry of activity among the crew members rushing to their posts. He made his way toward the ship's bridge to see if he could figure out what was going on. "Attention all hands," Captain Brennan's voice announced over the PA system. "Proceed to your assigned stations for an emergency shift to normal space. I say again: proceed to your assigned stations for emergency shift to normal space."

Novak thought as he made his way to the bridge.

The Firehawk's bridge was abuzz with activity as its crew prepared for whatever emergency they were about to encounter. Captain Brennan sat at the command console, barking orders to his subordinates, while Lieutenant MacLeod stood with his arms crossed as he watched various warnings flare across the ship's monitors.

Novak approached MacLeod and stood beside him. "What are we looking at?" he asked.

"Looks like we're approaching a gravity well," MacLeod replied. "And it's fixing to pull us out of flux space ahead of schedule."

"That doesn't sound good," Novak remarked. "Is this normal?"

MacLeod shrugged. "For charted territory, no," he replied. "But not uncommon for an exploration mission. Any strong enough well can pull a ship out of flux space. Stars, planets, asteroids. Hell, even other ships if they're big enough. It's why we usually aim for the edge of a star system."

A violent jolt rocked the ship, and anyone who had been standing was thrown off their feet. Novak pulled himself to his feet and then helped MacLeod do the same. "Sir, the bubble's about to pop!" shouted one of the crew members at the sensor station.

"All hands, shift to normal space imminent!" announced Captain Brennan.

Novak and MacLeod heeded the warning and strapped themselves into empty jump seats nearby. The captain looked back at them and nodded as he tightened his own restraints. "Here we go," he said with a grimace.

Even the most frequent interstellar travelers could never quite get used to shifting in and out of flux space. Novak had heard it compared to having your insides scrambled with a fork, but that didn't even begin to describe the sensation. It felt like your whole body was being torn apart, atom by atom, only to be put back together again moments later. The sensation was beyond agonizing, but it luckily only lasted for an instant.

The Firehawk lurched and groaned as its flux core disengaged, and the ship reverted to normal space. Novak let out a sigh of relief once the pain finally subsided and unbuckled himself from his seat. He looked over to MacLeod, who seemed just as relieved as he was. "Navigation, figure out where the hell we ended up," the captain ordered. "Comms, get our scanners online. If there are bogeys out there, I want to know about them. Engineering, raise our shields and get the stealth drive running ASAP."

Inter-ship communications buzzed with activity as the Firehawk's crew scrambled to carry out their orders. The ship's foreview screens displayed a large gray moon in front of them, its surface pocked with craters from meteor impacts, while a small blue marble of a world sat beyond its horizon.

"Captain, Navigation here. We're within the inner sector of the system, just outside 1 AU from the star. Third planet from the sun. Preliminary scans indicate at least 90% habitability. Something's off in our nav data, though. We shouldn't have dropped out of flux space this close to the star."

"Comms here!" an exasperated voice chimed in. "We've got three bandits on approach! Scanners have ID'd them as nrac corvettes. Scorpio-class."

"All hands to battle stations!" the captain ordered. "Engineering, divert reserve power to our aft shields. Navigation, get us a path to the system's edge and prep for another jump. Helm, keep us as far away from the enemy as possible-evasive maneuvers as needed. Tactical, you are weapons-free but prioritize point defenses. Don't let them close in on us."

"Aye, sir."

A detailed 3D holographic display appeared in the middle of the bridge as the ship's battle lighting kicked on, bathing the bridge in a dull red. At the center was a representation of the Firehawk and its defenses, while three small images toward the edge of the projection represented their pursuers. As the Firehawk launched a salvo of long-range torpedoes at the incoming corvettes, a swarm of blips appeared on the display to track them. Novak watched as the blips closed in on their targets, then disappeared before they met their mark, presumably dispatched by the enemy vessels' point defenses.

Novak let out a nervous breath. "It's not looking good for us, is it, sir?" he asked the captain.

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Captain Brennan furrowed his brow. "If we're careful and play our cards right, we should be able to handle three corvettes," he explained. "They're fast attack ships with short-range plasma throwers and not enough torpedoes to out-shoot our point defenses. As long as we have the range advantage, we can keep them at bay until we can jump."

The Firehawk launched another salvo of long-range torpedoes into space as it continued its course toward the edge of the system. The corvettes responded in kind, launching a volley of torpedoes that were quickly shot down by the Firehawk's point defenses. As the skirmish continued to unfold, an air of tension filled the bridge that had everyone on edge. Even the battle-hardened Novak found himself squirming in his chair, unable to take his eyes off the holographic display.

"Sir!" Another call from Communications. "A bubble just popped on top of us! We've got seven bandits in CQB range: six Ballista-class frigates and an Onager-class cruiser!"

The bridge display adjusted to accommodate the new enemy contacts; a formation of seven ships appeared nearly on top of the Firehawk's position. Before Captain Brennan could give an order, a metallic crack reverberated through the ship as it careened to the side, tossing a handful of unprepared crew members from their seats. "Shit!" the captain shouted. "Damage report!"

"Direct hit through the med bay!" replied Engineering. "We're venting O2, but damage control systems are isolating it. Shields at 26%. Another shot like that will cut us in half, sir."

The captain slammed his fist against his console in frustration before collecting himself to reassess the situation. He knew that with their superior drives, the Nrac were capable of short skips through flux space, but there was no way they should have been able to land on top of them like this.

"Uh, sir? They're hailing us."

The captain looked over at Communications and raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked incredulously. "Patch them through to the bridge."

"Aye, sir."

A young, white-haired Nrac wearing an indigo-colored uniform appeared on the main screen at the front of the bridge. His humanlike appearance was a stark contrast to the typical power-armored soldiers that Novak had encountered throughout the war on the ground. The alien's bright yellow eyes looked down upon the Firehawk's bridge crew with disdain as he spoke. "Attention, Terran vessel," he announced. "This is Centurion Maxim of the House Saul Navy. You have entered restricted space without authorization and are hereby ordered to surrender your ship and prepare to be boarded."

The entire bridge crew met his declaration with icy glares. "We were just leaving, Centurion," Captain Brennan replied. "Now, if you'll kindly power down your weapons, we'll be on our way."

"You and your crew will answer for your transgressions," the Nrac replied. "Power down your weapon systems, or we will be forced to open fire."

Captain Brennan let out a frustrated sigh before looking back at Communications. "Cut the line," he ordered.

"Aye, sir."

The image of the Nrac centurion disappeared from the main screen as Communications cut their communication feed. "Can we get a distress signal out?" the captain asked.

"Negative, sir. They're jamming long-range comms. We're alone out here."

Captain Brennan gave a solemn nod. "Everyone, it's been an honor serving with you, but I am afraid our journey together ends here. I am issuing an evac order. All hands, load up on the shuttles and get down to the planet below. The Nrac have already staked their claim here, but that world is your only hope right now. Get down there, survive, and do whatever you can to make it back home. Our people need to know the Nrac are here."

Novak looked over at the captain with concern in his eyes. "Sir?" he asked. "What about you?"

Brennan unbuckled himself from his command chair and stood up straight before looking Novak in the eye. "I'm going to do everything I can from here to cover your escape," he answered. "If I'm lucky, I may even take a few of them with me."

The lieutenant nodded. "Understood," he said, "but my team can help too. Does your ship have any EVA RIGs ready to go?"

MacLeod gave Novak an odd look. "We do," he replied. "But what are you planning?"

"If they're going to board us, then we'll board them right back," Novak answered. "My team will hit the cruiser and raise some hell. Maybe give your people a fighting chance to make it planetside."

The captain laughed grimly. "They told me you Vindicators were crazy," he remarked. "I just didn't realize how much."

"Is that a 'yes', sir?" Novak asked.

Brennan nodded. "It's a yes," he replied. "Lieutenant MacLeod, get Novak and his Vindicators set up with some EVA RIGs. Once they're set, get everyone you can to the shuttles, and then get the hell out of here. I'll keep your flight path as clear as I can."

"Aye, sir," MacLeod nodded. He gestured for Novak to follow him off the bridge. "Come on, Lieutenant. Let's go get you some toys."

MacLeod and Novak departed the bridge among a mob of crew members and quickly made their way to the armory. Novak radioed his team to meet them there and immediately began suiting up in his combat hardsuit. The rest of his Vindicators arrived shortly after and began suiting up for battle.

MacLeod grabbed one of the EVA RIGs from storage and inspected it before handing it over to Novak. Rapid Integration Gear, or RIGs, were powered modular exoskeletons that could be attached to armor to enhance strength and provide new functionality. This particular model was designed for zero-gravity operations; it included maneuvering thrusters, mag boots, and a magnetic grappling hook.

"You know how to use this thing?" MacLeod asked as Novak slipped the RIG over his hardsuit.

Novak nodded as he finished attaching the RIG to the hard points on his armor. "Not the first time I've taken a nrac cruiser from the outside," he replied with a grin.

Emerson, Amari, and Beckett wasted no time getting suited up in their own EVA RIGs while MacLeod double-checked their connections. The Vindicators each secured their weapons and performed a few basic checks before stowing as much ammunition as their gear could reasonably hold.

"Alright," Novak said, performing one last check on his helmet before turning to MacLeod. "We're ready to go. Save as many of the crew as you can, MacLeod. We'll meet you planetside if we can. If not, well... it's been an honor."

MacLeod gave Novak a firm nod and shook his hand. "You too, Novak," he replied. "But you damn well better make it down there alive."

With that, MacLeod headed off to the shuttle bay to catch up with the Firehawk's crew while Novak and his team made their way to the nearest airlock. "Captain," said Novak, radioing the bridge. "We are in position to initiate boarding maneuvers, over."

"Roger that, Lieutenant," the captain replied. "Syncing your TacNet to the Firehawk's telemetry now. Godspeed."