Sofia Bennett''s fingers moved across the sensor console surface. Lines pulsed faint green on the screen before her – echoes from the beacon signature. Outside the main viewport, the nebula''s background glow cast shifting red and green light across the console. The deck plates beneath her boots held a steady, low hum from the Dawnseeker''s fusion core.


    CRACKLE. Bridge lights flashed crimson, leaving only the emergency strips slicing red lines through sudden darkness. The core hum beneath the deck stopped. A low, structural groan vibrated up through the floor, metal under strain.


    "Power fluctuation—!" Daniel Estevez''s voice cut off near a side console.


    A tremor shook the deck plates. Sofia lurched sideways, impacting the chair armrest hard. Consoles along the wall sparked – brief, hot white flashes – then went dark. An alarm klaxon wailed, high-pitched, from the comm station, then cut off abruptly. Silence pressed in. On an auxiliary screen, a bloom of white static expanded near the hull position, tendrils branching outward, before that screen also blanked.


    "EMP!" The shout came from near the helm station, the voice strained, high.


    The silence returned, thick. Red emergency light strips cast long shadows. Figures on the bridge stood frozen, dark shapes against the weak light. Sofia''s pulse hammered against her ribs, a rapid beat felt in her throat. She jabbed a finger against her console surface. Smooth, dark glass. No response. A cold sensation spread low in her stomach.


    "Status!" Captain Valera''s voice cut sharp across the bridge. Silence answered. Sofia stabbed the console again. Dark.


    A low sound, air hissed between teeth, came from Daniel''s direction. Metal scraped near a side access panel. "Quantum core registers offline," his voice sounded, strained. "Drive indicators dark. Comms dead. Shields... zero."


    THUNK-CLANG. A heavy sound resonated through the hull metal, from somewhere aft. Sharp. Metallic. Not impact debris. Another THUNK, louder, closer. Rhythmic thuds followed, echoing down the main corridor – boots striking metal grating. Getting closer. Sofia''s gaze met Daniel''s across the dim red space. His eyes were wide, pupils large in the low light.


    SCREEECH. Metal tore near the main bridge doors. Bright orange sparks showered brief from the seam. Molten metal dripped, hissed faint on the deck plating. The doors groaned inward, pushed by figures stepping through the gap. Flashlight beams – harsh white cones – sliced the red gloom, sweeping across consoles, across crew members frozen near stations. Dark shapes filled the doorway, more crowding behind. Combat suits, bulky, non-standard plating reflecting red light like wet stone. Rifles – heavy barrels, different profile from Federation pulse weapons – moved low, steady, across the bridge space. Targeting reticles showed faint green glows.


    "Hands up," a voice commanded, amplified, distorted by a helmet speaker. Harsh accent. "Move slow."


    Valera straightened near the command chair. Raised her hands slowly to shoulder height. Her face was stone in the red light. "Identify. Federation vessel." Her voice was level, carrying across the quiet bridge.


    The lead figure stepped forward. Boots thudded heavy on deck plating. Stopped before Valera. The helmet retracted with a pneumatic hiss. A woman''s face showed – sharp angles, eyes pale points in the dimness, a jagged scar pulling one side of her mouth tight. "Was Federation," she said. The accent clipped the words hard. "Salvage now. Hands high. All of you."


    Crew members raised hands. Slow movements in the red light. Figures moved past the leader, spreading out across the bridge. Rifles stayed angled forward. Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond – more boots arriving.


    A figure wearing a helmet with a single, glowing red optical lens moved towards the dead main consoles. Stopped beside Sofia''s station. The lens swept across the dark screens. "Cooked clean, Karis," the visor-wearer stated, voice synthesized, flat. Kicked a loose floor conduit. Sparks jumped brief. "EMP strike perfect. Ship''s dead." Turned towards Karis. "Check holds? Drive core?"


    Sofia''s stomach muscles clenched tight. A cold sensation moved up her spine. Quantum core. Comms suite. She glanced at Daniel; his head was angled slightly towards the quantum comm station panel near his position.


    Figures moved among the bridge crew. Gloved hands patted down uniforms. Rough touches. Comms ripped from wrists. Datapads pulled from belts, tossed onto a pile forming near the doorway. A pirate activated a handheld scanner – green lines swept across walls, consoles. Valera stood rigid, hands raised, glare fixed forward.


    "Quantum drive access," Karis ordered, turning towards the visor-wearer. "Verify core integrity. Backup power signature? Tow potential?"


    Visor nodded, moved towards the engineering access panel at the bridge rear. Karis turned back, gaze sweeping the crew, stopping on Valera. "Logs. Manifests. Cargo specs."


    Valera''s lip curled slightly. "Power''s dead. Check yourself."


    Karis stepped close to Valera. Backhanded her across the face. Crack. Sharp sound. Valera staggered a step, head snapping sideways. Blood appeared dark at the corner of her mouth in the red light. Her eyes stayed locked forward, pupils large.


    "Power?" Karis said, voice low, soft now. Pressed the barrel of her sidearm against Valera''s temple. Metal gleamed dull red. "I''ll find power. Or I start spacing your crew. Your choice."


    Valera spat onto the deck. A dark spot appeared on the plating. "Two engineers," she said, voice thick. "Core access needs minimal auxiliary. I''ll route it."


    Karis gestured with the pistol barrel towards a hulking pirate guard near the door. "Take her. Pick two." Valera pointed stiffly towards two techs huddled near Sofia. They flinched. The guard moved forward, rifle nudging their backs. Marched them towards the door after Valera.


    The clang of the engineers'' boots faded down the corridor. Silence pressed back in, heavy, thick with the smell of burnt insulation and cold metal. Through the main viewport, nebula clouds swirled slow, vast shapes of red and green against black. Dust motes drifted near the glass. A piece of twisted metal tumbled slow past the viewport – EMP device husk?


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Daniel shifted his weight quiet. Deck plating cold beneath boot soles. He edged closer to Sofia, head tilted near her shoulder. His breath brushed her ear, warm against the sudden chill on her skin. "Quantum comm," he breathed, the word a near-soundless shape against the low hum of lingering static. "Can''t lose it. Only link."


    Sofia''s head gave a minute dip, eyes flicking towards Karis, who stood near the helm console interrogating Valera, back partially turned. Guards prowled near the main doorway, silhouettes against the corridor''s red glow. Another clumped near the engineering access. Focus split.


    Daniel drew a sharp breath, held it. Let it out slow. Moved. Slid sideways behind the dark mass of Sofia''s assigned science console. Crimson emergency light pooled thick here, shadows deep between console banks. Pressed his back against cool metal panels. His pulse hammered against his ribs, a frantic beat felt beneath his jumpsuit fabric. Sweat beaded cold on his forehead, prickled under his arms. His hands felt slick inside his gloves.


    His right hand slid low, probing the console''s base near the floor junction. Fingers brushed textured plating, a smooth rivet head, then a near-invisible seam. Pressure with thumb. Resisted. More pressure. A faint click echoed, swallowed instantly by the static hum. He held his breath. No reaction from the guards. He eased the concealed panel open a hand''s width. Darkness within. A tangle of bundled wires, fiber optics glinting faint red. Backup power lines. Emergency capacitor leads. Target: the trickle-charge conduit for critical systems.


    Fingers searched blind in the narrow space. Cold metal surfaces. Smooth plastic insulation. Sharp edges of connectors. His fingertips brushed a specific bundled cable – thinner gauge, different texture. Yes. He needed seconds. Heartbeat thudded loud in his ears. Sounds from Karis, Valera – low voices, sharp, indistinct tones – felt distant. Focused only on touch, the task.


    He fumbled slightly. A small connector scraped against the panel edge. Scraaape. Loud in the quiet corner. He froze. Every muscle locked. Listened. Guard near the door shifted weight. Boots scraped floor grating. Turning? No. Settled again. Daniel let breath escape slow. Continued. Pulled the thin trickle-charge cable free. Its connector head showed faint in the gloom. Threaded it towards another junction box shrouded deeper within the panel recess – quantum comm auxiliary power input. Fingers guided the connector head blind. Probed the socket shape. Pushed. Metal scraped metal. Resisted. Angled slight. Pushed again. Click. Soft. Solid. Connection made.


    Sweat dripped cold down his temple, tracing a path through grime. He eased the panel almost shut, leaving scant millimeters open. Screens stayed dead. Nothing visible changed. But beneath the deck plating, a low, almost subsonic hum started. Felt more than heard. A faint vibration through the soles of his boots. Power flowing. Trickle charge active. To the comm suite? Or just lost in fried circuits? No way to know.


    He crouched lower, pretending to adjust boot laces. His fingers brushed the deck plating. Still vibrating. He straightened slow. Eased back beside Sofia. Leaned against the console, trying to look casual. Heartbeat still hammered. Throat felt dry.


    Sofia shifted slightly, her body angled to block the view from the guard near the corridor entrance. A subtle movement, shielding his actions.


    Heavy boots thudded on the deck nearby. Closer. The pirate guard – the one with the kill markings on his helmet – stopped paces away. Red light glinted off his visor. Head tilted slightly. "You," the guard''s voice grated, amplified by the helmet speaker. "Back against the bulkhead. Both of you."


    Daniel pushed away from the console. Raised hands slow to shoulder height. Moved towards the wall beside Sofia. Cold metal pressed against his back. The guard''s visor swept over them, lingered on Daniel''s hands, then moved on, resuming his patrol near the door. Daniel let out another breath, slow, silent. Felt Sofia do the same beside him.


    He risked a glance towards the quantum comm status indicator panel – usually lit, now dark like everything else. Was the trickle enough? Did the automated distress ping protocol engage? Or was the suite too damaged? Seconds stretched, thick, heavy. He traced the hidden interface port location on the side panel with his eyes. Unlit. Dead. Need direct access. Fingers twitched at his sides.


    Metallic clangs echoed from corridors below. Shouts. Sounds of tearing metal. Gutting the ship. His stomach muscles tightened. Time running out.


    He pushed off the wall. Moved deliberately towards the side panel containing the interface port. His boots made soft sounds on the deck. The guard near the door glanced over, visor tracking his movement. Daniel stopped near the panel, turned slightly, acting like he was examining superficial damage from the EMP. His hand reached out, fingers brushing the panel surface as if assessing a scorch mark near the port.


    Fingers found the port cover seam. Slid it sideways blind. Keypad beneath felt cool, smooth. He kept his body angled, blocking the direct view from the guard. Fingers danced across the unlit keys – muscle memory, access codes drilled into him. Punching sequences blind. Trying to wake the auxiliary interface. Need a response. A flicker. Anything.


    He heard Karis''s voice rise sharp near the helm, demanding something from Valera. Heard Valera''s clipped, defiant reply. Heard footsteps approaching fast down the corridor – the squat woman with the plasma pistol returning? Tension coiled tighter in his gut. Come on...


    BEEP. Soft sound. Almost lost. A tiny green light flickered once beside the port. Died. Active? He punched the emergency distress packet transmission code. Short. Encrypted. Designed for minimal power burst. Fingers trembled slight. Did it send? No confirmation tone. No lights stayed on.


    The port light pulsed again – dim amber glow. Faded. Pulsed again. Flicker... fade. Another BEEP, lower tone. Acknowledgment? Or just system noise? Heart hammered. Cataclysm – 5 minutes away if they received. An eternity.


    He stabbed another sequence – auxiliary power cycle override – hoping to force a stronger pulse. The port glowed amber steady for a second. Flicker. Fade. BEEP. Louder this time? Hope flared, hot, fragile. Maybe. Maybe it got through. The distress packet – ship ID, basic status critical, coordinates locked from pre-EMP nav data – lean, fast transmission. Enough?


    "Oi!" Sharp shout from behind. "Scar" – the lean pirate from Karis''s inner circle – stood near the engineering access, rifle leveled. Pointing directly at Daniel hunched near the panel. "Step off that panel! Now!"


    Daniel froze. Pulled hand back slow from keypad. Straightened. Turned towards Scar, forcing face blank. "Just..."


    Scar lunged forward. Rifle butt slammed hard into Daniel''s chest. Air punched from his lungs. He staggered back against the console, stars flashing brief behind his eyes. Pain flared across his ribs. Scar grabbed his arm, yanked him away from the panel, shoved him hard against the bulkhead. Metal pressed cold through his jumpsuit. Rifle barrel jammed painful under his jaw.


    Sofia cried out, started forward. The guard near the door moved fast, intercepting her, arm barring her path. "Stay down!" the guard hissed.


    Karis stormed over from the helm, face thunderous. Scar pointed towards the panel Daniel had touched. "Caught him fiddling, boss! Think he triggered something!"


    Karis glared at Daniel, eyes narrowed to slits. Pistol lifted, barrel inches from his face. "Tryin'' to be a hero, scout?" Her voice dripped ice. "Die for ship tricks?"


    Daniel swallowed against the pressure under his jaw. Air scraped raw in his throat. Tried to make voice steady. "Capacitor," he choked out. "Sparking near the port. Didn''t want... fire." The lie felt thin, brittle.


    Karis stared. Pistol barrel pressed harder. Trigger finger tightened visible. Seconds hung suspended. Then, she jerked her chin towards Scar. "Cuff him. Tight. Maybe his friends value his breathing." Sneer returned. "One more twitch from anyone," her gaze swept the bridge crew, lingered sharp on Sofia, "and I slag that quantum drive myself. See how your ''monster'' finds you then. Got it?"


    Sofia dipped her head, a small, stiff movement. Daniel held rigid, heart pounding. The signal. Did it escape? Scar yanked Daniel''s arms behind his back rough. Mag-cuffs snapped shut, cold metal biting wrists. Shoved him hard into a corner near the helm station. Rifle stayed trained on him. The bridge air felt thick, stagnant, filled with the low hum of dying systems and the distant sounds of the ship being torn apart. The small green light beside the port stayed dark. Hope felt like a fading ember.