"Captain, we've narrowed it down," Lieutenant Commander Anya Petrova reported, her voice crisp and efficient, cutting through the hushed tension of the CMA security hub. Thirty holographic schematics, each representing a vessel that had arrived within the timeframe of the initial warp signature detection, shimmered on the main display screen. Nine of them pulsed with a faint red glow, indicating confirmed hyperspace jump capability.
Captain Sanchez leaned forward, his gaze sweeping over the data, a frown etching itself onto his weathered face. With practiced ease, he manipulated the holographic interface, sorting and filtering the information. "Half of these belong to known families or corporations," he muttered, tapping icons on the display. "Lee, Sharma, Medici… even Cortez. Only a handful are unregistered." His fingers hovered over a cluster of matte black ships, their designs unlike anything he recognized. "Zoom in on those, Anya."
As the images enlarged, revealing the sleek, predatory lines of the unknown vessels, a chill snaked down the Captain's spine. "The Hand," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. He exchanged a worried glance with Anya. "The Obsidian Hand. What could they possibly want at the CMA? And why now?"
Anya's brow furrowed. "Intel suggests they're after an artifact of some kind," she replied, her voice low. "A relic. Something an incoming examinee may possess."
"A relic?" Sanchez scoffed. "At the Central Military Academy? More likely they're after the girl herself. Or something she knows." He turned to Lieutenant Sarge, a veteran pilot whose short, wiry frame and neatly trimmed beard belied his reputation as one of the academy's most skilled and daring fighter pilots. His piercing green eyes seemed to assess everything, missing nothing. "Lieutenant, alert the ground teams. I want eyes on these black ships. You and your squadron, take to the skies. Visual confirmation only. No engagement unless fired upon. And Sarge," he added, his voice hardening, "bring them in alive. I want answers."
"Yes, sir!" Sarge snapped a crisp salute, the gesture sharp and precise. He turned and strode towards the hangar bay, his team of elite pilots falling in behind him. Within minutes, a squadron of sleek, silver fighter craft, their engines humming with barely contained power, launched from the CMA's hidden hangars, a silent promise of swift and decisive action. They climbed rapidly, disappearing into the azure expanse of the late afternoon sky.
—
Inside the hushed confines of the AR workshop, a holographic maintenance bot shimmered before Euri, its intricate components laid bare, a complex puzzle waiting to be solved. The air thrummed with the quiet intensity of focused concentration, the subtle scent of ozone mingling with the faint, metallic tang of the AR projectors. Across the workbench, Kael worked with a similar projection, his brow furrowed, his lips moving silently as he traced the virtual wiring diagrams with his finger. Lin sat nearby, her leg bouncing nervously, monitoring the time display on her HUD: 2:54:32. The wager hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension crackling between Euri and Kael.
Euri's fingers danced across the holographic interface, manipulating virtual tools with the practiced ease of a seasoned mechanic. She deftly disassembled the bot's propulsion system, her mind racing, calculating the optimal reassembly sequence. She could feel Kael's gaze on her, a mixture of arrogance and something else… perhaps a flicker of uncertainty? Let him stew, she thought, a small smirk playing on her lips.
High above the academy, concealed within a swirling mass of cumulonimbus clouds, the six matte black hovercraft raced to escape. Inside the lead craft, Mr. Hanz swore, his heart pounding against his ribs. The cockpit glowed an angry red, warning lights flashing, alarms blaring. Sweat beaded on his forehead, blurring his vision. "We've been tagged," he rasped into his comm, his voice strained. "Scatter and regroup at Gamma. May the odds be ever in your favor, gentlemen."
The black ships broke formation, scattering like a flock of startled birds, their engines screaming as they jinked and weaved, desperately trying to shake their pursuers. Mr. Hanz hauled back on his joystick, the hovercraft responding sluggishly, its nose struggling to pierce the thick cloud cover. "They won't catch me," he muttered, his hand hovering over the hyperspace jump initiator. He slammed his fist down on the button. Nothing. The drive sputtered, coughed, and died, leaving him stranded, a sitting duck in a rapidly shrinking sky. "Frakk!" He risked a glance over his shoulder. Two CMA fighters, their silver forms gleaming menacingly in the fading sunlight, were closing fast, weapons locked on.
Back in the AR workshop, Euri slotted the final component of the maintenance bot into place. The holographic image solidified, resolving into a sleek, fully functional machine. A chime resonated through the room, and the timer on Lin's HUD froze: 0:47:12. "Done!" she exclaimed, a triumphant grin splitting her face. She glanced at Kael, who was still wrestling with the bot's intricate wiring, his face a mask of frustration.
High above, Mr. Hanz knew his time was up. Trapped between the unforgiving sky and the relentless CMA fighters, he made a split-second decision. He yanked the ejection lever, the explosive charge ripping him from the cockpit. The g-force slammed into him, stealing his breath, his vision blurring as he tumbled through the air. He watched helplessly as his abandoned craft, now a deadly projectile, continued its upward trajectory, a black speck against the vast canvas of the sky. Well, he thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat, at least the view is nice.
"Commander! Unmanned craft on a collision course with the academy! Authorization to destroy?" Sarge's voice crackled over the comm, urgent and tense.
"Granted!" Sanchez's reply was immediate, his voice hard. "Take it out, Sarge!"
Sarge aligned his fighter, the targeting system locking onto the errant hovercraft. His finger tightened on the trigger. But at the last moment, another black ship, emerging from the dissipating cloud cover, darted into his line of fire, taking the full brunt of the missile. The explosion rocked Sarge's fighter violently, the shockwave buffeting him against his restraints, the acrid smell of burning metal filling his nostrils. He fought to regain control, his heart hammering against his ribs, watching as the unmanned craft, now propelled by the force of the explosion, spun end over end, hurtling towards the academy below. No, he thought, his stomach clenching. Not on my watch.
With a surge of adrenaline-fueled determination, Sarge wrestled his damaged fighter into position, directly beneath the falling hovercraft. It was a desperate maneuver, a high-stakes gamble, but he had to try. He activated his emergency capture claws, the metallic arms extending towards the tumbling wreckage. The impact jolted his fighter, the added weight straining the engines, but he held on, slowly, painstakingly decelerating the falling ship, his fighter groaning under the strain.
BOOM!!!
The sound of the explosion ripped through the quiet afternoon, shaking the very foundations of the CMA. The windows of the AR workshop rattled violently, the holographic projections flickering and distorting before stabilizing. A shockwave blasted through the open doorway, sending papers flying and knocking over a display of precision tools.
Euri and Lin exchanged stunned glances, the sudden roar echoing in their ears. "What was that?" Lin asked, her voice barely a whisper above the din.
Euri, her senses amplified by the nascent power within her, felt the shift in air pressure, the metallic tang of burning debris, the distant chorus of alarms. A chill snaked down her spine. "Something's falling," she said, her voice grim. "And it's coming down fast."