41.E:fire of the frontier line_Skies beyond the stars

A steady hum pulsed through the Endeavor''s command deck, the air taut with the buzz of active systems as Rear Admiral Thalia Cassel gripped the edge of her console. Beyond the wide viewport, the supernova corridor sprawled—a jagged void of dust and distant stars, their faint glow swallowed by the chaos ahead. Laserfire streaked in vivid arcs, torpedoes flared like dying embers, and the hulking shadows of warships traded blows in a brutal clash. The Federation had rushed here on intercepted pirate intel, chasing whispers of a bold new power rising in this reopened frontier—a threat they could no longer ignore.

 Below, Cassini''s surface turned slowly, its copper-red canyons and crystalline flats catching the local sun''s dim light. Thalia''s console flickered, its scratched display pegging their orbit at a thousand kilometers above the colony''s dusty crust—a tight perch, close enough for precision strikes or fighter runs, yet vulnerable to any pirate guns daring to tilt skyward. And these pirates had no shortage of nerve.

 The FNS Endeavor, flagship carrier of the Federation, angled its massive hull with a deep rumble, starboard batteries swinging into position. Spanning over two kilometers, the carrier loomed like a fortified citadel—turrets bristling, shield generators humming, flight decks alive with activity. Smaller destroyers flanked it, their sleek, hundred-meter frames darting in tight formation, built for quick hits and brutal close-range brawls. Fighter squadrons wove between them, thruster trails carving sharp lines through the dark.

 Thalia drew a slow breath, tasting the sharp edge of ozone in the recycled air. Cassini''s untapped wealth pulsed beneath them—resources so rich that prospectors had clawed for scraps, only to draw pirates like flies. Intel snatched from a captured frigate had pinpointed this colony as a key target for these raiders, hinting at a larger force orchestrating their moves. The Endeavor was here to break that grip—and dig out the truth.

 "Admiral," an ensign called from her left, voice tight, "enemy''s holding just past geosync orbit—won''t budge off the approach lane. Weapons are hot—looks like they''re prepping another volley."

 "Got it," Thalia said, punching a command into her console. "Send firing coords to the Noble Star—target their lead cruiser. Let''s crack that line."

 A sharp beep rang from the lower deck, where officers hunched over screens, relaying orders. Outside, the Noble Star—a hefty cruiser marked with Federation black—lit up, twin torpedoes blasting free in shimmering arcs. Pirate flak burst in reply, a frantic cloud, but the torpedoes sliced through, trailing fire. A dull flash bloomed on the horizon as they slammed a pirate frigate, ripping its belly open—debris flared outward in a mute, vicious spray.

 Federation destroyers surged forward in tight sweeps, railguns barking short bursts and energy beams slashing the dark. Plasma flared in silent gouts. The pirates, leaner but nimble, dodged through the barrage, their formations sharp and cunning. Some flashed tech too polished for scavengers—stolen or black-market gear that blunted the Federation''s usual hammer. Thalia''s jaw tightened. Whatever power lurked in the supernova corridor had turned these raiders into a real threat—coordinated, armed, fearless.

 A sudden flare burst at the starboard viewport—a Federation corvette caught in a pirate salvo, its hull buckling. Thalia''s gut twisted. "Damage report—now," she snapped, leaning into the console.

 The comm crackled, tense. "Corsac''s hit hard—aft thrusters blown, leaking air, drifting toward the exosphere. Crew needs evac fast."

 "Send rescue ships—move it," Thalia ordered, her voice a whip. "Get the Hammerlight covering them—push those pirates back." Confirmations buzzed, and she watched the Hammerlight pivot, turrets blazing a wall of fire that forced the pirates to peel off—for now.

 Cassini''s rugged sprawl stretched below—canyons cutting deep, salt flats glinting, spires jagged with mineral promise. The colony''s settlers had scraped a foothold here, lured by wealth, only to face relentless raids since the Federation reopened the corridor. Thalia''s intel had dragged her here to break that chokehold—and uncover what fueled these pirates'' sudden spine.

 A low rumble shook the Endeavor''s command deck as a pirate cruiser loomed across the battle line—a blunt, wedge-shaped beast studded with heavy cannons and slapped-together plating. Its engines flared a stark purple, hinting at jury-rigged thrusters patched from scavenged designs. Thalia Cassel''s eyes narrowed at the jagged wolf''s head scrawled on its hull—the Red Fang militia''s mark. Word was they''d tapped the supernova corridor''s reopened quantum routes first, hitting hard with stolen gear and crushing smaller outfits.

 "Forward turrets—lock that cruiser," Thalia ordered, her voice cutting sharp over the deck''s buzz. "Knock it out—now."

 The cruiser answered with a swarm of short-range missiles, spitting thrusters as they fanned out in a tight arc. The Endeavor''s point-defense lasers flared, slicing through some, but others punched the shields—greenish ripples flashing silent across the barrier. The deck jolted under Thalia''s boots, klaxons screeching a proximity alert.

 "Shields dropped five percent," an ensign barked from the lower pits. "They''re winding up for a broadside."

 "Hold ground," Thalia said, her tone cold. "Boost shield power—arm the starboard lances. We''ll punch through their line—or die trying."

 Cassini''s hazy horizon shimmered below, a thousand kilometers down—its copper-red sprawl dotted with canyons and mineral-rich spires. The Endeavor and its escorts hovered in a tight orbit, thrusters firing in bursts to counter the planet''s uneven pull. Fighter wings roared from the carrier''s bays, streaking into arrowhead formations to chase missile trails and rake pirate flanks.

 Comms crackled overhead, a jumble of pilots'' voices—sharp calls of "got one!" mixed with frantic pleas for backup as pirate corvettes swarmed. Dogfights flared in tight knots, casting jagged shadows over Cassini''s upper atmosphere.

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 "Admiral," an ensign shouted, voice pitching high, "colony governor''s on—says pirate landers just hit the main refinery. They''re sabotaging it!"

 Thalia bit back a curse. Cassini''s ground defenses were scraps—drones and a half-built wall, no match for raiders. "Order the Brightblade—drop orbit, hit those landers with precision strikes. Keep it clean—colony''s too close for heavy fire."

 Commands snapped out, and the Brightblade peeled off, engines blazing as it sank toward Cassini. Its ordnance streaked down, kicking up dust and flame near the refinery—pirate dropships buckled under the hits. The colony''s drones surged, harrying the reeling intruders.

 But the move cost them. Two pirate frigates darted from behind an asteroid, hammering the Brightblade with a brutal salvo. Its hull shuddered, gas venting as it limped back to the Endeavor''s shield shadow. Distressed chatter flooded the comms until it stabilized—just barely.

 The battlefield sprawled with wreckage—snapped hull plates, fighter scraps, vapor trails glinting in the void. Cassini''s faint glow below pulsed with stakes Thalia couldn''t ignore—resources worth billions, a colony the Federation wouldn''t lose. "Tighten the line," she barked into her comm. "No pirate sets foot down there without a fight—Cassini''s ours."

 For a heartbeat, she scanned the chaos—raiders bolder than any intel had pegged. The supernova corridor''s reopening had sparked a rush, pirates turning scavengers into a menace with gear too sharp for their ilk—Federation designs, patched rough but deadly. A dull thud rocked the deck—a pirate fighter slamming the Endeavor''s belly in a suicide dive. Alarms wailed, and Thalia snapped to an officer. "Report!"

 "Outer hull dented—no breach," the officer said, eyes on his screen. "Defenses are swamped—too many coming in."

 "Redirect fighters," Thalia ordered, stepping clear of the console. "Send the Windspear—chase down those dive-bombers. They''ll crack us open if they keep that up."

 The Windspear surged across the starfield, its guns spitting tracer rounds in tight bursts, carving through pirate clusters. The Endeavor''s battered escorts pushed back, the Corsac limping into the fray with half its systems dark—every ship clawing to hold Cassini against a foe sharper than they''d ever faced.

 The Endeavor''s command deck buzzed with the low drone of strained systems as the battle''s final echoes faded, leaving a heavy stillness in their wake. Beyond the cracked viewport, Cassini''s orbit sprawled—a jagged graveyard of twisted metal and flickering debris, starlight glinting off shattered hulls. The supernova corridor''s dust swirled around the wrecks, a mute shroud over the clash that had pitted the Federation fleet against pirates bold enough to strike the colony below. Corvette frames drifted in lazy spins, some stripped to skeletons, others gouged by gaping blast scars.

 Rear Admiral Thalia Cassel stood at the central console, hands braced on its edge, her soot-streaked uniform clinging to her frame. Pain throbbed in her ribs from the kingship''s earlier salvo, but she kept her gaze fixed on the tactical grid''s shifting readouts. The pirate formation had shattered—their flagship a ruin, survivors either bolting or adrift in lifeboats. The Endeavor and its escorts held orbit a thousand kilometers above Cassini, thrusters firing in short bursts to counter the planet''s uneven tug.

 "Stations," Thalia said, her voice low but firm over the hushed comm line, "start wide scans—pick up any pods or life signs. Pull in survivors—ours and theirs."

 Her calm masked the ache of loss—too many gone, faces she''d known, recruits and veterans alike who''d fought to shield Cassini''s wealth. The colony stood, its resources intact, pirates beaten back—a win by frontier measure, but one she couldn''t savor yet.

 "Rescue teams moving, ma''am," an ensign replied from the lower deck, his voice steady. "Salvage drones launching too—grabbing wreckage for intel."

 Thalia nodded, eyes tracing the void where a pirate frigate''s husk smoldered, its flames guttering in vacuum. "Send coords to the shuttles—watch for radiation spikes. Those cores could still blow."

 Below, medics hustled through the Endeavor''s corridors, grav-stretchers gliding with the wounded—thirty pulled from the lower decks, pale and battered. The sharp scent of antiseptic clashed with the tang of burnt steel. A pilot, flight suit ripped, lay ghost-white on a stretcher, a medic''s voice low and steady beside him as they wheeled into a triage bay. A junior lieutenant slumped against a bulkhead, eyes wet—he''d flown wing with the pilot, ejecting when a pirate salvo tore their fighter apart.

 In the docking bay, repair crews wrestled with hull fractures—welders spitting sparks, drones scuttling over dents left by suicide runs. The Endeavor''s corridors held pressure, but deeper sections gaped open to space, battered by the Red Fang''s guns. One more hit could''ve split her wide.

 Amid the chaos, quiet corners emerged—marines near the starboard deck swapped hushed tales. One grunted about torching a boarding team with a thruster flare; another muttered of a missile skimming the flight deck, saved by a drone''s quick douse. Each story carried the frontier''s brutal weight.

 On Cassini''s surface, Lt. Caldwell stalked through the colony''s rubble-strewn lanes, dust coating his boots from orbital strikes. Cracked domes and mining frames bore laser scars—signs of the pirates'' push. He stopped at a warped barricade, once a settler''s shield, and squinted at the horizon—spires glinting with mineral promise under a weak sun. Cassini''s wealth drove this fight, and they''d held it—barely.

 "Status?" Caldwell snapped into his handheld link.

 "Refinery''s ours, sir," a trooper crackled back. "Found charges on the pipeline—didn''t blow. Pirates botched the timing."

 Caldwell''s breath eased—lose that pipeline, and Cassini''s value would''ve burned away. "Keep looking—could be more hidden."

 Settlers gathered behind troopers—some gripped rifles from their own stand, others stared blank at the ruin. A woman in a torn jacket stepped up, voice shaky. "We couldn''t stop them—not without you. Thank you."

 Caldwell dipped his head, weary. "We''ll stay until it''s solid, ma''am. You''re clear now." But he knew it hung by a thread—the Endeavor above was their backbone, and the supernova corridor teemed with threats.

 Upstairs, the Endeavor circled Cassini, sensors probing for stragglers. Thalia stood at the bridge''s edge, a sentinel in the dim light, her face etched with resolve over triumph. Drones snagged pirate hulks, towing them for salvage, while rescue teams nabbed pods—faint thruster glows dotting the dark.

 "Admiral," Cmdr. Yelnova said, stepping up, "we''re catching pirate comms—scrambled, but some are calling for backup."

 Thalia''s grip tightened on the console. "Figures—they''ll scream we''ve pinned them and beg for help. How long to shore up our perimeter?"

 Yelnova checked her datapad. "Noble Star''s out—two days for repairs. Corvettes are low on fuel or half-crippled. Fighters—lost a third."

 Thalia''s jaw set, options thinning. "We hold with what''s left—hope the corridor stays quiet." She glanced at a comm station. "Yelnova, fire up the quantum relay—I''m sending High Command an alert. If they regroup, we need ships fast."

 "Yes, ma''am," Yelnova said, moving off to relay the order.

 Thalia''s frown deepened—the supernova wave''s fallout had opened these lanes, sparking a rush she''d thought would stall the Federation. Instead, it birthed a frontier flood—pirates rising sharp and bold, their tech patched from Federation designs. Now, they fought tooth and nail, stretched thin across a vast edge, Cassini dangling in the balance.

AliNovel

41.E:fire of the frontier line