The ISS Cataclysm''s command deck thrummed with a low, insistent pulse, the air thick with the metallic tang of recycled oxygen and the faint scorch of recently fused circuits. Beyond the reinforced viewports, the Supernova Corridor sprawled—an unruly expanse of amber dust clouds and jagged debris, lit by the distant gleam of Cassini''s sun. The planet hung below, its copper-red canyons and crystalline deserts etched with fresh scars from a pirate raid four days past. At the deck''s heart, a holo-table glowed, projecting a tactical display: a lattice of quantum lanes and anomaly clusters, with a red pin flickering faintly at the corridor''s edge—suspected coordinates tied to the pirate stronghold.


    Captain Nathaniel Rourke leaned over the table, his scarred hands gripping its rim, knuckles whitening under the strain. The overhead lights carved deep shadows into his weathered face, accentuating the hard line of his jaw. "We''ve got fragments," he said, his voice a steady growl cutting through the deck''s hum. "Jansen''s decode from the kingship logs points to a network—something called Haven, likely the Ring''s core. They''re running stolen Federation tech, hitting us hard like they did at Cassini. We need to know what''s real out there, and we need it quiet."


    Commander Elira Laehy stepped forward, her boots striking the deck with crisp precision. She tapped the holo-display, magnifying a coordinate west of Cassini, near the red pin''s fringe. "Frontier Station A," she said, her tone sharp as a plasma edge. "An old Federation outpost, abandoned after the supernova surge. It lies along a key trajectory between this sector and their suspected network coordinates. If the Ring''s touched it, we might pull a thread—tech caches, comm relays, anything hinting at their spread."


    Lieutenant Mark Jansen stood at attention, his sandy hair catching the holo''s faint shimmer. His spectacles reflected the map''s glow, but his eyes narrowed on the red pin, sifting through the partial intel he''d cracked—muttered pirate codes, purple engine signatures, a syndicate named the Ring. Beside him, Lieutenant Junior Grade Janice Howell shifted, her pilot''s hands flexing with restless energy, while Lieutenant Esteban Reyes hunched over a datapad, tracing anomaly patterns. Corporal Hara lingered by the comm station, her ops uniform pristine despite the ship''s battle-scarred air, a sidearm glinting at her hip.


    The comm panel hissed, static slicing the quiet before a holo-feed sputtered to life. Rear Admiral Thalia Cassel appeared from the FNS Endeavor''s med bay, her gaunt face streaked with soot, her uniform hanging loose over an IV-draped arm. The kingship''s beam had gutted her flagship, leaving it a drifting wreck and claiming over a hundred lives. Her voice rasped, raw with grief. "They tore us open," she said, each word a shard of steel. "Crew I trained, faces I knew—gone in a pirate''s blaze. Find their source, Jansen. Break it." Her gray eyes locked on him, fierce despite her pallor, then the feed blinked out, leaving a hollow silence.


    Jansen''s jaw clenched, the admiral''s pain sinking into him like a hull breach. He met Rourke''s steady gaze. "We''ll see it through, sir," he said, his voice firm against the knot in his chest. Howell nodded curtly, Reyes adjusted his spectacles, and Hara''s hand brushed her holster—a silent vow amid the tension.


    Rourke straightened, his presence a bulwark against the corridor''s chaos. "Four of you—Jansen, Howell, Reyes, Hara. Keep it lean, keep it hidden. The shuttle''s rigged with optical cloaking, but no quantum comms—too much draw, too easy to track. You''re dark out there until you''re back. Launch in one hour."


    Before the team could turn to leave, Rourke''s voice cut through the tension once more. "One more thing," he said, his eyes scanning each member of the team. "You''re going in dark, no comms. That means we won''t know if you''re delayed or in trouble."


    Jansen straightened, his attention sharpening. Howell''s hands stilled, and Reyes looked up from his datapad.


    "We''ll hold position here at Cassini for 48 hours after your expected return time," Rourke continued, his tone measured. "That gives you a window for unforeseen complications. But we can''t stay longer. The pirates might regroup, and we need to maintain our defensive posture."


    Commander Laehy stepped forward, her voice cool and precise. "If you''re not back by then, we''ll assume the worst. We''ll send a drone sweep along your projected path to look for debris or distress signals. If we find nothing, we''ll have to consider the mission compromised and reposition the fleet to counter the pirate threat."


    Hara''s hand tightened on her holster, and Reyes swallowed hard. Jansen''s mind raced, calculating the implications.


    "But," Rourke added, his tone softening slightly, "we don''t leave our people behind lightly. If there''s any sign you''re still out there, we''ll reassess. Just know that time is not on our side."


    Jansen nodded, his resolve hardening. "Understood, sir. We''ll be back on schedule."


    Rourke''s gaze held steady. "See that you are. Dismissed."


    The team saluted in unison, their boots echoing as they turned. Beyond the viewports, the Supernova Corridor churned, dust scattering light in ghostly arcs. Cassini''s horizon glowed faintly below, a mute witness to the cost already borne.


    The starboard hangar of the ISS Cataclysm held a steady thrum. Tool impacts echoed – CLANG against metal—mingling with the sharp, chemical scent of coolant and a faint ozone tang near power conduits. Overhead, floodlights cast stark, angular shadows across the polished deck plates, beams glinting off rivets and hull seams of docked auxiliary craft.


    At the bay center, the stealth shuttle—a wedge-shaped hull stretching 200 meters—rested beneath a crane''s retracted arm. Its gray plating showed faint carbon scoring near the thruster ports. Diagnostic scan fields shimmered across its surface; the optical camouflage array emitted a low, iridescent hum. Maintenance drones hovered nearby, rotors generating a high-pitched whirr.


    Lieutenant Mark Jansen stood near the shuttle''s boarding ramp, spectacles reflecting the holo-display active on his datapad. Sandy hair showed ruffled. He adjusted the spectacles. His fingers moved across the datapad screen, scrolling through data fragments.


    Beside him, Lt. JG Janice Howell knelt at the portside thruster assembly. Gloved hands adjusted sensor inputs on a maintenance panel. Sweat beaded on her brow, visible beneath the edge of her helmet liner. Her pilot''s uniform showed creases across the shoulders. "Camouflage field reads ninety-eight percent efficiency," she reported, her voice clear over the hangar noise. "Corridor dust particulate may cause minor refractive scattering at the field edge. Expect possible prismatic shimmer under direct scan." She wiped her forehead with a sleeve, then toggled a control dial on the panel. Soft amber lights illuminated steady.


    Lieutenant Esteban Reyes hunched over a workbench cluttered with power converters and diagnostic tools. His datapad displayed anomaly charts—swirling patterns marked crimson and indigo against a grid overlay. Spectacles glinted as he spoke, voice low. "Residual EM interference from Cassini engagement sector remains high. Subspace channels show significant signal degradation." He tapped the datapad screen. "Pre-calculated warp vector locked. Insertion point plotted three light-years out, coordinates confirmed for Station A approach." A faint 3D grid projected above the datapad, its lines showing faint tremors marked ''simulated turbulence''.


    Corporal Hara stood near the shuttle''s open communications access panel. Her uniform was crisp, sidearm secure in its holster at her hip. She ran checks on internal relay systems, fingers tapping sequences on a console. Blinking green and yellow LEDs reflected on the polished deck. "Confirming no quantum link capability post-jump," she stated, her tone even, delivered in short bursts. "Operating under dark zone protocols. Internal secure relays only." She adjusted a frequency dial; the panel emitted a soft, rhythmic beep... beep....


    Jansen stepped closer to the shuttle hatch, boots scuffing faintly on the deck. He addressed the team members present. "Primary objective remains Frontier Station A. Abandoned outpost confirmed. Possible Ring network node, potential link to Haven operations." He held up his datapad; the screen displayed fragmented text strings, coordinate snippets. "Recovered logs show mentions of a ''distributed network''. Stolen Federation tech signatures logged. Organized logistics patterns detected." His voice lowered slightly. "Source could be amalgamated survivor groups—SC-13, Kaelis sector refugees—or a more structured entity." He paused, looking at each crew member. "Admiral Cassel''s status and the Endeavor''s condition confirm the operational threat level. High Command''s mobilization of reinforcement assets indicates elevated priority for corridor stability. Ring activity appears centered near Cassini."


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The team gathered near the shuttle hatch. Howell leaned against the cool hull plating, eyes narrowed slightly. Reyes scratched his chin, the faint rasp of stubble audible in a brief lull. Hara crossed her arms, gaze focused towards the open hangar doors.


    "Federation grade shielding retrofitted onto non-standard hulls," Howell noted, voice quiet. "And those engine signatures... purple drive-flare anomalies reported during Cassini fight. Requires unique power source."


    "Salvaged tech from lost supernova-era colonies?" Reyes mused, tapping his chin. "Cassini sector ores are resource-rich. Draws attention."


    "Or internal leak," Hara stated, her gaze distant. "Using modified schematics. The Endeavor was hit fast, hard. Suggests tactical familiarity."


    Jansen nodded, the hangar lights glinting off his spectacle lenses. "Station A may provide answers. Gear check final. Launch window is ten minutes."


    Hangar doors slid fully open with a heavy groan, hydraulic seals releasing with a prolonged HISSS. Beyond the threshold stretched the Supernova Corridor—a backdrop of roiling amber dust clouds, chaotic swirls scattering light into ghostly, shifting arcs of color. Below, Cassini''s surface showed as a copper-red curve, textured with faint lines of canyons and dark patches of crystalline desert, its edges blurred by the omnipresent corridor haze. Drifting wreckage from the recent battle—shattered plating, twisted superstructure fragments—floated silent, surfaces catching the distant star''s light in brief, cold glints.


    The shuttle detached from the Cataclysm''s mooring clamps. A muted thud resonated through the hull. Its optical camouflage array shimmered briefly, then the shuttle''s visual profile faded against the backdrop of Cassini and the swirling corridor dust. Howell''s hands moved across the control yoke, inputs precise, guiding the craft past a drifting piece of debris—a large, mangled section of hull plating, origin unclear, its edges jagged. "Clear," Howell reported, voice steady. She banked the shuttle gently, navigating through the residual debris field from the Cassini engagement. The cabin''s interior lights dimmed to standard amber transit levels, casting long shadows. Crew members remained secured in their seats. The hum of the initiating quantum drive sequence started beneath the deck plates, low, rising in pitch.


    Reyes monitored the jump parameter readouts on his console. A holographic vector projection hovered above his station—a blue line indicating the three-light-year trajectory towards Station A''s coordinates, overlayed on pre-calculated corridor interference models showing dust density gradients and anomaly probabilities. "Quantum drive charged," Reyes announced, his voice even. "Warp field initiation sequence ready. Mark on your command, pilot." Howell nodded, eyes fixed on the nav console countdown.


    "Three... two... one... Engage." Howell activated the primary drive control. The shuttle frame vibrated—a deep, resonant frequency building fast. The view through the main viewport distorted—stars elongated into streaks of white light, amber dust clouds smeared into swirling bands of violet and gold. Color bled across the screen, coalescing into a tunnel effect. The exterior view vanished, replaced by the characteristic warp bubble visual—a shifting, non-representational swirl of light patterns against the viewport surface. All external EM readings on sensor displays flatlined. Internal ship systems showed nominal green status lights.


    Inside the bubble, the shuttle cabin settled into operational quiet. The whirr of environmental controls, the rhythmic beep of the navigation timer tracking jump progress. No view of external space showed—only the swirling light patterns on the viewport, predominantly amber hues mixed with violet streaks, their shapes moving slow, fluid. A faint ozone scent lingered in the recycled air. Cabin temperature held steady.


    Howell monitored the flight path schematic on her console. "Trajectory holding within projected parameters," she reported. "Nav computer adjusting field harmonics for predicted dust density fluctuations near waypoint two." Amber lines on the holo-grid overlay shifted slightly, mapping the computer''s adjustments.


    Reyes reviewed pre-loaded sensor logs from the approach vector area on his datapad. "Pre-jump passive scans logged high particulate concentrations along this route," he stated, pointing to a dense red cluster on the data map displayed on his screen. "Charged particles consistent with supernova remnant profiles. Potential for signal masking near destination." He highlighted another data point. "Sensor logs also indicate metalliferous debris signatures clustered near Station A''s recorded coordinates. Irregular fragmentation patterns noted." His finger traced jagged lines on the visual representation of scanned debris shapes.


    Hara, seated at the ops console further back, reviewed parallel logs. Her sidearm remained secured in its holster. "Cross-referencing debris signatures with known vessel profiles," she said, her voice level. "Fragmentation patterns show similarities to hull cuts documented on disabled corvette near Cassini. High-energy scoring indicated." She tapped her console, bringing up a text log entry. "''Haven network reference'' flagged in captured pirate comm fragments."


    Jansen, secured in a forward seat, reviewed his own datapad. Spectacles reflected the console lights. "Log correlation supports organized salvage activity," he contributed. "Matches fragmented intel pointing towards a distributed network. Target resources appear to be pre-supernova Federation technology or specific mineral caches—consistent with SC-13 and Kaelis sector materials." His voice remained quiet, focused on the data correlation. "The Endeavor''s interception near Cassini indicates Federation awareness or concurrent interest in these salvage targets."


    Howell adjusted a minor course correction input. "Engine signatures logged during Cassini engagement showed anomalous spectral lines—high energy output, ''purple shift'' noted," she added, referencing flight telemetry logs. "Consistent with modified or non-standard drive technology."


    Reyes nodded. "Fits with scavenging hypothesis—supernova-era drives, maybe? Or modified Federation tech using specific corridor ores?"


    Hara leaned forward slightly. "Or external supply," she countered, her gaze fixed on the swirling viewport patterns. "Organized. Resourced."


    Jansen looked up from his datapad. "Possibilities remain open. Station A analysis is required."


    The shuttle moved silent within the warp bubble. On the viewport surface, swirling light patterns shifted—amber streaks deepened, violet tendrils coiled tighter. The hull emitted the constant low hum of the quantum drive maintaining the field. A faint metallic tang of ozone persisted in the cabin air. Console edges showed no condensation change. Cabin temperature readings held steady. The navigation timer emitted its steady, rhythmic beep.


    Reyes updated the tactical display overlay. A detailed holo-grid showed their projected route relative to known corridor hazard zones. The display rendered dense clusters marked ''High Particulate/Debris Concentration''—rendered as overlapping red and indigo probability fields—their coded surfaces marked with standard caution symbols derived from pre-jump scans. "Approaching projected debris field sectors per scan data," Reyes reported, his voice even. He zoomed the display; specific hazard markers flashed, labeled ''Metallic Fragments - High Density''.


    Hara leaned forward slightly, observing the holo-grid. "Query: Do fragmentation patterns in scan logs match Ring vessel energy signatures documented at Cassini?" she asked, directing the question towards Jansen''s station interface.


    Jansen reviewed his datapad logs, cross-referencing stored energy signatures. "Affirmative," he replied after a moment. "Scan log debris signatures show vector correlation with high-energy plasma scoring consistent with Ring warship impacts on Endeavor escort vessels." He highlighted a log entry. "Text fragment recovered from pirate comms flags ''Haven network resource acquisition''." He looked towards Hara. "Station A may hold relevant manifests or route data."


    Howell, hands steady on the flight controls, monitored the nav computer''s field adjustments. "Engine signatures logged near Cassini—''purple shift'' anomaly," she stated, referencing the flight log playback on her console. "Suggests modified drive tech."


    Reyes nodded, reviewing mineral analysis logs from Cassini. "Consistent with potential exotic fuel processing or salvaged drive components requiring specific corridor ores."


    Hara added, "Or external resupply. Coordinated fleet action argues against simple scavenging."


    Reyes monitored the navigation timer projection. "One minute to jump exit," he stated, voice steady. "Station A coordinates confirmed." Howell initiated the real-space transition sequence; console lights near her shifted patterns.


    "Optical cloak sequence initiated for real-space transition," Howell reported. "Field active upon bubble collapse."


    Hara checked her restraint buckles. Her hand rested near her sidearm holster. "Confirming internal comms encryption active."


    Jansen secured his datapad. Spectacles reflected the shifting console lights. "Standing by for sensor activation post-exit."


    The shuttle''s low drive hum deepened. Cabin lights flickered once. Colors on the viewport swirled faster, contracting inward. A low groan resonated through the hull structure.


    Reality resolved with a final, non-physical lurch. The warp bubble effect vanished from the viewport. Stars snapped sharp against the black. The Supernova Corridor materialized—amber dust clouds swirled in the middle distance, thinner here than near Cassini. Ahead, the Betelgeuse supernova nebula showed larger, its structure more defined, coppery tendrils and violet gas lanes sprawling across a significant arc of the view, its ambient glow casting a faint reddish hue across the shuttle''s forward hull. Floating against this backdrop: Frontier Station A. A hulking, skeletal silhouette. Twisted metal framework, dark, inert. Sections of its outer hull plating were missing or buckled inward. Modules showed impact craters, surfaces scored deep with rust. No lights showed anywhere on the structure. Debris drifted in a loose halo around it—shattered transparent panels, lengths of severed cable, unrecognizable fragments reflecting the nebula''s faint light in dull, metallic glints. The shuttle drifted silent, cloaked, facing the dead station across the void.