[Isabela’s PoV]

  “Tell them to go to hell!” Isabela shouted, her knuckles white as she gripped the flight controls. The entire ship trembled around her, engines screaming in protest. The exhaust nozzles burned a furious red, the metal casing so hot it glowed like molten glass.

  But they weren’t the only ones pushing their ships to the limit.

  Through the forward viewport, the black expanse of space was alive with chaos. Hundreds of corvettes and gunships were converging on the same point, their engines streaking across the void. Explosions bloomed in the distance, brief and brilliant, before fading into the darkness.

  “I can’t tell that to Mordred Lot!” Astrid yelled back.

  She sat beside Isabela, her fingers flying over the communication console, trying to keep up with the flood of transmissions and sensor warnings. Sweat glistened on her forehead, illuminated by the pale glow of the holographic interface.

  Behind them, Emma and Taser worked frantically at the defense terminals. The hum of the ship’s point-defense turrets filled the air as they fired in rapid bursts, their targeting systems locked on the swarm of enemy fighters closing in.

  “We’re running out of Energy!” Emma shouted.

  “Then start throwing scrap metal at them!” Taser barked, her teeth clenched.

  “Fucking hell! Just get the extra reactor we have at the back.” Isabela replied to their screams.

  The ship jolted violently, a shockwave rippling through its frame as a missile detonated nearby. The inertial dampeners struggled to compensate, slamming everyone forward in their harnesses.

  Outside, the battle raged in every direction.

  On one side were the mercenary fleet of the H.I. Syndicate, a chaotic swarm of corvettes, frigates, and modified haulers armed to the teeth. Their ships moved like a pack of predators, darting in and out of formation, overwhelming their targets through sheer numbers.

  On the other hand, a titan.

  The Dreadnought, Khan's fortress the size of a city, dominated the battlefield. Its hull was a labyrinth of armor plating and weapon batteries, each one firing in rhythmic bursts. Streams of plasma fire and missile trails crisscrossed, aimed at everything and everyone.

  “Say something! I don’t care what. Just keep them away from Khan!” Isabela snapped, still wrestling with the controls as the ship banked hard to avoid a shot of concentrated plasma.

  Astrid cursed under her breath, slamming her headset into place. “Battlecruiser Independence, do you read? This is Corvette Rebel One. We need your cooperation! Pull back your formation and give our fleet room to maneuver!”

  “Denied. The Grand President demands your withdrawal. The enemy possesses Republic property and is to be apprehended by Republic forces.”

  The message ended with a sharp click, leaving only the hum of the corvette’s overworked engines and the rising tension in the cockpit.

  Isabela’s jaw tightened. “That- That-. Son of a whore.”

  She muttered it under her breath, but the venom in her voice filled the cramped space.

  From the beginning, the mission had stunk. The too-fast payment transfer. The absurd number of ships called in for what should be just another “mercenary from the borderlands.” And of course, no one had mentioned that Khan had a Dreadnought.

  That little detail had been the rotten cherry on a cake made entirely of lies.

  “You know what? Screw this,” Isabela snarled, slamming her hand down on the comms panel. The open channel icon flared red, broadcasting to every corvette in their fleet.

  “That bastard Mordred’s not backing off,” she said, her voice ringing across the network, fierce and unyielding. “We’re going in. All ships, form up and start a full assault. Ignore the defense fleet when possible, focus fire on the fortress batteries. Hit them hard, hit them fast.”

  For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the responses came in. One after another, crisp and clear through the comms.

  “Alpha One, copy.”

  “Prime One, copy.”

  “Gamma One, copy.”

  Each confirmation was another spark in the storm. The glow of their thrusters reflected off debris and plasma trails.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Hold on tight, girls! We’re going in!” Isabela shouted.

  She pressed one hand flat against the bulkhead beside her seat, closing her eyes for a split second. The metal beneath her palm hummed.

  “No! Don’t you dare—” Astrid’s protest was drowned in the rising scream of the engines. She clutched her harness tight, knuckles white as the inertial dampeners strained to compensate.

  Before anyone could protest, Isabela activated her Boon.

  The effect was instantaneous.

  A surge of raw Energy flooded around the corvette. The lights in the cockpit flickered, and the space itself seemed to warp.

  Isabela could accelerate anything she touched. Her arm during a punch, her body to fly, or, in this case, an entire ship.

  The price was brutal. The maneuver consumed massive amounts of Energy, and the human body wasn’t built to withstand such forces. The others on board didn’t share her acceleration; they were passengers in a vessel moving faster than reason.

  The result was chaos.

  Astrid’s scream was lost as she was slammed back into her seat, her harness straining against the pressure. Emma and Taser were thrown violently against the bulkhead in the rear, their consoles sparking as the ship tore forward.

  Yet Isabela didn’t flinch.

  Her eyes were locked on the target ahead, the Dreadnought. The stars blurred into streaks of light around them as allied and enemy ships alike vanished behind them.

  The Rebel One became a bolt of light.

  Isabela’s jaw clenched. Her arms trembled on the controls, sweat beading at her temples. The ship’s frame vibrated so violently that it felt like it might tear itself apart.

  Then, suddenly, she broke through.

  The corvette burst past the enemy’s defensive perimeter, crossing into the Dreadnought’s shadow. The acceleration bled away, the ship shuddering as its systems screamed for mercy.

  Isabela exhaled sharply, forcing herself to ease back on the controls before they collided with the enemy’s armored hull.

  “Fire everything we’ve got!” she shouted.

  Her voice snapped the others back to life. Astrid’s hands flew across the weapons console, locking onto targets. Emma and Taser, still reeling, scrambled to reroute power to the forward batteries.

  The corvette’s guns roared to life.

  Streams of lasers and missiles were slamming into the Dreadnought’s hull. The explosions rippled across its surface, scattering debris and fire.

  “Defensive turrets locking on us!” Astrid warned, her voice sharp.

  “Evasive maneuvers!” Isabela barked back.

  The Rebel One twisted violently, banking hard to the right. The ship danced along the Dreadnought’s surface, weaving between bursts of laser fire and flak.

  The enemy’s defense cannons tracked them relentlessly, massive barrels rotating with mechanical precision.

  Isabela gritted her teeth, fighting the controls, forcing the corvette to spin and dive along the Dreadnought’s armor plating.

  “We hit one of the cannons!” Taser shouted from the rear.

  “They’re getting too close to that Dark Star. Watch the gravity well!” Astrid’s voice cracked through the comms, sharp and urgent.

  Isabela’s gaze snapped to the massive celestial body dominating the space beyond the Dreadnought.

  It loomed like a black sun. An impossible sphere that devoured light rather than cast it. From its surface, waves of darkness erupted in slow, writhing arcs, like flames made of shadow. Each plume stretched outward, rippling through space and painting the horizon in shades of obsidian and violet.

  It was beautiful. Terrifying. Wrong.

  The Dreadnought, enormous even by capital ship standards, continued its advance, straight toward the thing.

  “They’re insane!” Isabela shouted, her hands gripping the controls. “They’re going to get pulled in!”

  Astrid’s fingers danced across the sensor console, her brow furrowed. “No… no, something’s off. The readings, they’re wrong.”

  Isabela glanced at her. “Wrong how?”

  Astrid shook her head, disbelief in her voice. “The star… It’s cold.”

  For a moment, the cockpit was silent except for the sound of the engines.

  “Cold?” Isabela repeated, her eyes widening. “You’re saying it’s frozen?”

  “Not frozen,” Astrid said, her voice tight. “Just… not hot. No thermal output. The Energy readings are inverted. It’s absorbing, not emitting.”

  Isabela stared at the black star again, her gut twisting. The dark flames licking its surface didn’t radiate heat. Every instinct screamed at her that this was wrong, that no star should behave this way.

  “We’re pulling back,” she said finally, yanking the controls.

  The Rebel One groaned in protest as its thrusters flared, dragging the corvette away from the gravitational field. The view through the viewport tilted as the ship banked hard, the black sun shifting out of sight.

  But the Dreadnought didn’t stop.

  It kept going. Its massive hull cutting through the void, unflinching, unstoppable. The shadow-flames reached out, curling around the ship like tendrils.

  “They’re not slowing down!” Taser shouted from the rear.

  Isabela could only watch, transfixed and horrified, as the Dreadnought’s prow touched the surface of the black sun.

  Instead of burning, it passed through.

  The shadow-flames engulfed the ship, swallowing it whole. But there was no explosion, no fire, no debris. The Dreadnought vanished, slipping into the darkness as if the star had opened its jaws and consumed it.

  “What do we do?!” The comms erupted with panic. Voices from allied ships, mercenaries, and captains all shouting over one another. “Do we follow? Do we retreat? What the hell was that?!”

  Astrid’s voice was the only one steady enough to cut through the chaos. “The logs—” she said, her fingers flying across the holographic controls. “The system data’s wrong. This isn’t a Dark Star. It’s not even a star at all.”

  “Then what the hell is it?” Isabela demanded, her voice trembling despite herself.

  “It’s a rogue planet.”

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