The Skydancer did have a certain... charm from the outside. Shaped like a bird of prey, with sleek black plating, it was, undeniably, a beautiful ship. But on the inside... it was a mess. Exposed wiring, mismatched parts, jury-rigged systems that hummed and sputtered with a disconcerting unpredictability—it was the Frankenstein of interstellar travel. Silas shifted uncomfortably in his seat in the ship's cramped cockpit. His eye caught a bright, tattered sticker of some Fringe rock band—'Nova Riot'—haphazardly slapped over a bundle of frayed wires, as if it were a patch job. He wondered if flying aboard a cardboard box wouldn't be a safer option.

Kira, however, didn't seem to share his apprehension. She sat relaxed, almost casually, in the pilot's seat beside him. Her hand rested lightly on the control yoke, the other tapping a rhythmic beat against the armrest as she guided the vessel through the void. Her legs were crossed, her worn white sneakers contrasting with his own polished black boots. She chewed a piece of gum. The artificial scent of strawberry lingered in the air, a strange contrast to the metallic tang of the ship.

"Looks like things are a bit congested up there," she said, her eyes fixed on the forward viewport.

Silas followed her gaze, his heart sinking as he took in the sight before them. Hundreds of ships—transport shuttles, small cargo vessels, massive freighters, all crammed together in a chaotic ballet— swarmed around the Vectorial Interstellar Access (VIA) gateway, the colossal metal structure shimmering with a faint, blue energy. They were all awaiting their turn to be boarded and inspected by Terran patrols before they could jump through the VIA to the next star system.

The VIAs were the lifeblood of interstellar travel and communication, the only means of connecting star systems scattered across the Cluster. Their technology was a closely guarded secret. No one knew why the Terrans had stopped constructing new gateways over a century ago, limiting humanity's reach to a few dozens of star systems. Some believed the costs had simply outweighed the profits. Others speculated that the Commonwealth was already straining under the burden of maintaining its far-flung colonies. But there were darker rumors too—whispers of a discovery, something so unsettling that even the Terrans had decided it was best left alone.

Between the sprawling structure of the gateway and the packed array of ships, a line of Terran warships stood guard, their angular hulls and gleaming weapons a menacing sight. Terran fighter patrols zipped through the congested space, their blue engine trails weaving a web of control. By seizing the gateway, the Terrans controlled every pulse of traffic in and out of the Bellator system, a stark reminder of their iron grip on power in this sector.

Silas swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. It was time to see if those clearance codes were worth the exorbitant price he'd paid. The Bellator system, like the rest of the Fringe, wasn't technically part of the Terran Commonwealth. It was one of those systems deemed "not worthy" by the suits on Earth. A liability rather than an asset. So, it was left to fend for itself, to govern its own affairs, to descend into the kind of lawlessness that attracted the dregs of the Cluster – smugglers, mercenaries, and those seeking to escape the Terran's grasp.

But that didn't mean the Terrans wouldn't come by from time to time. Flexing their muscles, quelling any signs of opposition, they reminded everyone who was truly in charge. There were always ways around their scrutiny, of course – hidden routes, bribed officials, a blind eye turned for the right price. But in times like these, when the Terrans had a stranglehold on the system, those loopholes became scarcer and more expensive. The risks multiplied with every passing hour.

"The Terran patrol is hailing us," Kira said, her voice steady. Her free hand danced across the console. A holographic display flickered to life before them, a stream of text scrolling in crisp, military font.

"They want to know our cargo, destination, flight path, passenger manifest... the whole shebang," she added.

Silas's jaw clenched. He'd paid a small fortune for those codes, a bribe that had nearly emptied his accounts. If they didn't work... He pushed the thought away, focusing on the task at hand.

"Alright, show time," he said tightly. "Send them those files I gave you. And don't forget the clearance codes."

Kira's fingers moved across the console again. "Done," she said, her gaze shifting to the forward viewport. A Terran patrol cruiser, its hull gleaming like a predator's tooth, hung in the black expanse of space.

"And now we wait," said Silas, forcing himself to take a deep, steadying breath. His fate, his life, hung in the balance, suspended between the menacing presence of the Terran patrol cruiser and the creaking structure of the Skydancer, a vessel cobbled together from spare parts and prayers.

POP!

The sharp sound made Silas's heart skip a beat. His chair groaned beneath him, betraying his startled reaction. Kira glanced at him with the corner of her eyes. She chewed the burst bubblegum back into her mouth, her expression as impassive as a Terran security drone.

Silas cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Just... adjusting my position," he muttered, hoping Kira hadn't noticed his childish jumpiness.

He forced another deep breath, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the armrest. He glanced at Kira, his gaze snagging on a glint of metal at her throat, visible now as the collar of her bomber jacket had slipped open. A chain, a thin silver chain, held a dog tag etched with a name: Ethan Vance.

"Your family fought in the war, eh?" Silas tried to sound casual, to break the tension that coiled in his gut. "Father? Brother?"

Kira's gaze darted towards him with a flash of annoyance, her jaw clenching. She turned back to the viewport, her hand moving to zip her jacket up to her neck. The silver chain disappeared beneath the fabric.

"I didn't mean to intrude..." Silas said. He saw the way she looked at the Terran cruiser, something burning in the depths of those hazel eyes. "Those were hard times..." he said. "Terrible times. Good people were lost. I've lost a brother to the war. Jeremiah was a good lad. Too idealistic for his own sake. Died fighting for his beliefs. I miss him..."

He saw her shoulders slumping, just slightly. Her eyes flickered at him before returning to the vastness of space. Silence lingered for a while and he glimpsed a different expression, a hint of sympathy and sadness now. "Father didn't believe in fighting..." she said, breaking the quiet. "He believed in freedom. And love. So, he did it anyway." He noticed her hand reaching for her chest, her fingers tracing the lines of the dog tag under the jacket.

"He must have been a great man." Silas said. Kira nodded her eyes lost between the stars. She looked at him, her gaze recovering its usual firmness. "You fought in the war?" she asked.

"Me? No." said Silas. "I don't believe in fighting either. I believe in surviving."

"Sometimes fighting is the only way to survive." she said with a firm edge.

"You're right. And sometimes it's the quickest way to die," he replied, holding her gaze. Silas knew this all too well—freedom, love... ideals that had gotten people killed. Like his stubborn brother.

"And what good was that revolt for?" Silas asked, his tone sharp with bitterness. "Ants trying to kill an elephant, kid. They were crushed! It made the Terrans stronger, their grip tighter."

"If I'm getting crushed, I'll make sure the elephant feels it!" Kira shot back.

Silas sighed. She talked like Jeremiah. "Look, girl, in life, there are things you can't change. Like the Terrans. They're there," he pointed towards the cruiser outside. "Whether we like it or not. We can adapt, learn to live... thrive even... or we can get trampled. Out here, it's everyone for themselves."

"Adapt?" she scoffed, her eyes flashing with anger. "They took your brother, they took my whole..." she stopped herself, her jaw tightening.

"They wouldn't if my stupid brother had listened!" Silas raised his voice "If your father-"

"Don't you dare!" Kira warned him, jabbing a finger between them.

Silas closed his mouth, clenching his teeth. It was useless. Like it was with Jeremiah.

A woman's voice, sharp and officious, crackled through the Skydancer's comms system, shattering the tense silence. "Light Transport Vessel," the voice commanded, "prepare for boarding and inspection. Power down your engines and stand by for docking instructions."

Silas and Kira exchanged a look, shock and disbelief flashing between them. Silas's blood turned to ice. He stared at the comm unit, his mind reeling. Those codes... they hadn't worked. He'd been played. Cheated. He should have known! He shouldn't have trusted that prick! His hands balled into fists. He'd find the fucker who'd sold him those worthless codes and make him regret the day he'd crossed Silas Morgan.

"I hope you kept the receipt on those codes," Kira said, her wry humor failing to reach her eyes. Her lips tightened as she stared through the viewport. The Terran inspection shuttle, escorted by two sleek fighters, approached the Skydancer, its lights flashing—a silent predator closing in on its prey.

"Fuck!" Silas spat, his anger mixing with rising panic. "Okay... there has to be another way out of this," he muttered, his mind racing. He searched for a solution, a loophole, a miracle! Maybe bribe the inspector—offer a cut of the profits. Or threaten him! Make him see what messing with Vlamurik meant. Or he could—

"There's a way," Kira interrupted.

Silas blinked. "What—"

The ship lurched violently. Kira yanked the control yoke hard, throwing the Skydancer into a gut-wrenching dive. The Terran ships rolled from view. Silas's stomach turned, a wave of nausea washing over him as he scrambled for a handhold, his knuckles white against the cold metal.

"What the hell are you doing, girl?" Silas managed, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"I'm not letting those bastards anywhere near my ship," Kira replied, her fingers dancing across the controls. "I'm not letting them take her." The fierceness in her voice, the protectiveness, caught him off guard.

"Are you out of your mind?" Silas snapped. He gestured towards the rear viewport. The Terran fighters, their engines flaring, were closing in, their lights flashing like predatory eyes. "You don't expect to outrun them with this... this piece of scrap, do you?"

A dangerous smile curved Kira's lips. "You don't know what my baby's capable of."

And then, with a tap of her fingers, the Skydancer surged forward, slamming Silas back into his seat with a bone-jarring force. He glanced at the holographic radar display shimmering beside them, his breath catching as he saw the distance between them and the Terran fighters widening. They were actually... outrunning them.

"There's another VIA gateway on the other side of the system," Kira's voice was steady, but urgent. "It's less used, mostly for mining traffic. If we can lose these guys, we can try that route. It'll take longer, but it's better than ending up in a Terran prison."

A wave of relief washed over Silas, tension easing from his shoulders. He watched as Kira guided the Skydancer forward, her touch on the controls light, intuitive.

They might actually make it out of this.

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it.

If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a vote or leaving a comment bellow.

Your support means the world to me and keeps me motivated to continue writing.

Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the story!