The stealth shuttle drifted, cloaked, near Frontier Station A. Its hull showed no visible profile against the backdrop of the Supernova Corridor. Through the reinforced viewport, the Betelgeuse supernova nebula dominated the view—a vast structure of coppery-hued gas tendrils and glowing dust clouds layered against the black. Light scattered within the nebula cast a diffuse, reddish haze across the nearby space, illuminating the station''s structure in dim, shifting patterns. Cassini showed as a distant, faint point of light, partially obscured by nebula dust lanes.


    Lieutenant Mark Jansen stood near the shuttle''s main viewport, spectacles reflecting the nebula''s dimmed glow. His datapad displayed fragmented intel files labeled ''Haven Network - Partial''. His gaze moved across the nebula structure visible through the viewport. "Nebula density readings consistent with long-range projections," he stated, voice low. "Federation retreat vectors logged post-supernova confirm navigational hazards throughout this sector." Lt. JG Janice Howell occupied the pilot''s seat, hands resting near flight controls, monitoring local sensor feeds showing the station''s inert profile.


    Frontier Station A loomed closer on the main display feed—a derelict structure of twisted metal girders and breached modules. Hull plating showed extensive pitting and scoring. No running lights were visible. No EM emissions detected beyond background radiation. "Approaching designated docking bay gamma," Howell reported. "Bay doors appear forced open. Minimal internal atmospheric pressure readings near the opening."


    Howell guided the shuttle towards a dark opening in the station''s side—a hangar bay entrance gaping into shadow. The shuttle moved slow, thrusters operating at minimal output. Interior bay lights remained dark. Visible internal structures showed rusted docking clamps, severed power conduits hanging loose, drifting debris reflecting the shuttle''s external running lights. The shuttle executed docking procedures; magnetic clamps engaged the deck plating with a series of sharp CLANKs echoing through the shuttle hull. A low thud resonated as landing gear settled.


    Dust particles—fine, glinting faintly in the shuttle''s exterior lights—lifted from the bay deck in slow swirls within the near-vacuum environment. Jansen turned to the assembled team—Howell, Reyes, Hara—all secured in standard EVA suits, helmet faceplates reflecting the reddish nebula light filtering through the bay entrance. "Standard infiltration protocols," Jansen stated, his voice clear through the internal suit comms. "Zero-gravity conditions confirmed. Monitor radiation levels. Search objective: primary control center, locate station logs or data caches related to Haven network or Ring activity."


    The airlock cycled. They crossed into the station corridor. Magnetic boots clanged against the grated floor panels, the sound echoing flat in the stillness. Zero-gravity required careful handhold maneuvers between sections. Emergency lights were dark. Flashlight beams cut cones through the darkness, revealing corridor walls coated in a thin layer of frost that glittered under the beams. Patches of orange-brown rust spread across metal surfaces. Debris floated slow in the corridor—shattered console fragments, scraps of torn fabric showing faded Federation blue, disconnected wiring bundles.


    Hara''s flashlight beam tracked across markings etched into a wall panel—angular symbols, lines intersecting at sharp points, edges worn. "Unidentified markings logged," she reported over comms. "Not standard Federation symbols. Pattern inconsistent with known pirate tags." Reyes moved alongside, sweeping the corridor with a handheld scanner. The device emitted a low hum, its display showing only low-level residual energy readings. "Minimal power fluctuations detected from station core sector," Reyes reported. "Consistent with failing backup capacitor bleed."


    The corridor curved, leading deeper into the station''s structure. Through cracked viewport sections along the outer bulkhead, the Betelgeuse nebula remained visible—coppery gas tendrils twisting, their ambient light filtering red into the corridor''s darkness, casting long, moving shadows from the floating debris.


    Jansen paused, his flashlight beam illuminating a deep gash scarring the bulkhead metal. The edges showed jagged, torn, not a clean cut. "Structural damage noted," he logged verbally. "Consistent with high-energy impact or internal explosion." He moved on.


    They reached an access shaft spiraling downward. Handholds lined the shaft walls, coated in the same thin frost. They descended, magnetic boots anchoring them, flashlight beams probing the darkness below. The temperature dropped further; suit thermal regulators adjusted with faint clicks. The only sounds were their breathing through the suit comms, the clang of boots on rungs, and an intermittent, low groan resonating through the station''s structure—metal contracting in the cold or shifting under stress.


    The shaft opened into the station''s control center. A large chamber. consoles lined the curved walls, screens dark, surfaces spiderwebbed with cracks. Wires floated free from damaged panels. Debris drifted throughout the zero-g environment—shards of transparent screen material, metal fragments, data sliders.


    A massive viewport formed the far wall, its surface fractured, distorting the view of the Betelgeuse nebula beyond into jagged, shifting patterns of copper and violet light. The nebula''s g?ow provided the only ambient illumination, casting a dim, reddish haze across the chamber.


    Reyes tethered himself to a console frame near the center. Attached a diagnostic interface to a primary data port. The scanner hummed louder. "Attempting system access," he reported. His helmet display reflected flickering green text lines scrolling rapidly. "Core memory corrupted... accessing archived Federation logs... pre-supernova entries confirmed." Text slowed. "SC-13, Kaelis flagged ''status unknown - communication lost post-event''." He tapped commands. "Searching recent access logs... multiple encrypted intrusions detected. Timestamps match post-Cassini engagement period. Source signatures masked, non-Federation encryption." Scanner display beeped. "Partial log fragment decrypted: keyword ''Haven node coordinates''. Reference ''propulsion anomaly - purple shift''." His head lifted slightly. "Ring access confirmed."


    Hara propelled herself towards a wall panel near the main viewport. Her flashlight caught a seam hidden beneath a frost layer. Used a tool from her belt kit to pry the frosted panel open—snap of frozen seal breaking echoed. Inside, nestled in cushioning foam, lay a crystalline data chip. Faint, dormant glyphs etched its surface. "Data storage detected," Hara reported. "Crystal type consistent with pre-supernova Federation tech." She extracted it carefully, placed it in a shielded container. "Secured for analysis."


    Howell drifted towards the center of the room, flashlight beam sweeping debris. It illuminated a holo-projector unit lying wedged beneath a buckled floor plate. She worked it free, inspected the casing. "Portable holo-emitter located." She connected a backup power cell from her suit kit. The projector whirred faint. A grainy, incomplete map projection flickered into the air above it—star lanes rendered in amber lines against a dark field. Labeled points pulsed: ''Cassini'', ''Station A''. Another cluster showed ''Haven Network - Partial Data''. Map edges dissolved into static. "Holo-map recovered," Howell stated. "Shows ''Haven'' designation linked to multiple nodes. Station A confirmed as node." A single red marker pulsed near the Cassini sector data point.


    Jansen moved closer, cross-referencing the holo-map with his datapad showing the crystal chip''s initial scan results. "Coordinate overlap confirmed between holo-map nodes and crystal data fragments," he reported. "Pattern suggests networked locations across multiple corridor sectors." He indicated the red marker. "Unidentified energy signature logged near Cassini before our arrival—source matches marker proximity." He looked towards the team members. "Data suggests Station A was a functional node in a larger Ring network. Purpose unclear. Primary objective: locate central data core or cache." He pointed towards a sealed hatch marked ''Sub-level Access - Restricted'' on the far wall. "Log indicates primary archives located lower levels."


    The team gathered near the sealed hatch. Scoring marks showed around the lock mechanism. Reyes knelt, deployed specialized tools from his EVA kit. The low whirr of a micro-drill started, followed by a faint click as tumblers disengaged. The control center remained silent, except for the scanner hum and the low, intermittent groan of stressed metal somewhere deeper in the station structure. Crimson nebula light filtered through the fractured viewport, casting long shadows from the floating debris.


    Each exhaled breath clouded visors briefly, vapor curling upward in the frigid, zero-g air before dissipating. The Betelgeuse nebula''s reddish glow entered through narrow viewport slits along the transit tube beyond the hatch, painting the grated metal floor in shifting bands of crimson light and deep shadow.


    The silence inside the transit tube felt heavy. Magnetic boots clanged soft against the grated floor panels. A distant, arrhythmic groan resonated through the station frame – metal contracting or shifting. The air recycler in their suits hissed faint, filtering the processed air. A faint metallic scent, mixed with a trace chemical odor – possibly degraded coolant or organic decay – registered on suit sensors, flagged as ''trace contaminants''.


    Cable bundles hung in loops from the ceiling conduit trays, some ends frayed, showing exposed copper wire. Sparking showed intermittent from one damaged junction box – brief blue-white flickers against the dark metal. Flashlight beams cut focused cones through the gloom, illuminating walls scored with deep scratches – parallel lines gouged into the metal plating.


    Lieutenant Mark Jansen led, flashlight beam steady. He paused at a junction: three corridors branched, disappearing into darkness. Dim emergency light strips flickered faint red at the far end of the left corridor.


    "Corridor markings noted," Lieutenant Hara reported over the comms, her voice level. She directed her helmet lamp beam towards a cluster of shattered conduits overhead. Fine particulate matter drifted from the opening, catching the light. "Coolant leak confirmed. Trace analysis pending." The particles glinted amber and violet where the nebula light struck them through a nearby viewport.


    "Pre-supernova logs indicated standard evacuation protocols initiated," Lieutenant Esteban Reyes added, his voice calm over the comms. He consulted his scanner display. "Structural damage analysis suggests non-standard energy weapon impact or explosive decompression near this sector." He swept his flashlight beam across a wall section showing clustered, deep gouges. "These markings correlate with localized energy build-up."


    Lt. JG Janice Howell moved alongside a corroded wall panel. Faded text stenciled beneath the frost layer read: ''Restricted Access - Containment Protocol Active''. Her flashlight beam illuminated a metal fragment floating nearby – shaped like part of a Federation star emblem, edges melted, slagged. "Impact evidence consistent with high-heat energy discharge," she stated, pointing her beam towards the insignia fragment. She traced a series of scratches etched crudely into the panel surface – intersecting lines forming a rough directional arrow pointing down the left corridor towards a section label: ''OPS DIST''. "Hand-scribed marking located. Indicates path towards OPS DISTRIBUTION."


    Jansen examined the scratched marking. His gloved finger traced the lines. "Potential survivor marking or navigational aid," he logged. "Proceeding left corridor." He gestured. The team moved forward, flashlight beams converging, cutting into the deeper darkness.


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    Air temperature readings on suit HUDs continued to drop. Wall panels showed buckling inward in sections. Frost patterns spread thick across metal surfaces, catching the nebula light filtering through viewport cracks, reflecting faint red shimmers.


    The corridor narrowed. Rusted metal scraped faint against the sides of their EVA suits. Nebula light entered through a jagged tear in the upper hull plating, casting distorted, moving shadows from floating debris onto the opposite wall. One elongated shadow shifted as Hara moved past. "Movement?" Hara asked sharp, head turning fast, flashlight beam sweeping the area. "Negative," Reyes responded after a second. "Scanner shows no motion. Light distortion from debris passing external breach."


    Reyes paused, adjusting scanner frequency. "Detecting low-frequency electromagnetic field fluctuations," he reported. "Pattern irregular. Origin point projected deeper along this vector. Source signature does not match known Federation equipment."


    Jansen acknowledged with a curt nod. "Log the EM signature. Maintain forward progress." The words echoed slightly in the confined space.


    The corridor opened into a wider area, appearing to be a former maintenance bay. Shattered tool fragments, twisted metal conduits, and unrecognizable equipment pieces floated slow in zero-g. Surfaces showed coated in fine, dust-like particles that glinted where flashlight beams struck. A large coolant pipe along the ceiling showed ruptured; silvery vapor leaked slow, forming drifting tendrils that curled around their suits as they passed through. Howell brushed a hand through one vapor tendril; it dissipated, leaving no visible residue on her glove.


    More markings showed on the wall panels here – etched symbols, some resembling standardized Federation maintenance codes, others unfamiliar geometric shapes. One cluster formed a spiral pattern, ending in a deep gouge into the metal. Hara moved closer, directing her light onto the spiral. "Marking complexity increased," she logged. "Intentional pattern confirmed."


    Reyes''s scanner emitted a series of rapid beeps. "EM field strength increasing," he reported, voice tight. "Radiation signature detected—low level, concentrated spike. Composition matches residual supernova isotopic decay profiles, but localized. Source proximity estimated one hundred meters, current vector." He looked towards Jansen, helmet turning. "Approaching source."


    The corridor ended at a junction. Sealed hatches lined the walls, marked with faded stencils: ''PWR RELAY 3'', ''CARGO BAY B-2'', ''OPS DISTRIBUTION''. The OPS DISTRIBUTION hatch was larger, constructed of reinforced blast-door plating. It hung partially open, canted at an angle. Hydraulic pistons showed jammed, surfaces coated in a thick, crystalline residue that shimmered faint blue-green under flashlight beams, reflecting the external nebula glow. The residue pulsed with a very faint light, synchronized with the scanner''s EM field readings. Jansen stopped before the hatch, flashlight beam playing over the crystalline residue. "Designation confirmed: OPS DISTRIBUTION," he stated over the comms. "Proceed through opening."


    The team moved slow through the canted opening, magnetic boots finding purchase on the doorframe edge, then the deck plating inside. Flashlight beams cut into the deep darkness within the chamber beyond. Tall shapes loomed indistinct in the distance. Racks? Storage crates? The air inside felt colder, still. The low hum of the scanner and the suit comms were the only sounds.


    The Betelgeuse nebula''s reddish glow entered through a large, jagged tear in the chamber ceiling. This light cast shifting red patterns across surfaces coated in frost and crystalline dust particles, which clung to the edges of large metallic crates lining the walls.


    The air temperature reading on suit HUDs showed significantly lower than corridor norms. A low hum, faint but persistent, vibrated through the deck plating. Floating debris—shattered data cube fragments, twisted wiring, pieces of equipment casings—drifted slow in the zero-gravity environment.


    Lieutenant Mark Jansen moved forward, magnetic boots clanging muted against the pockmarked floor panels. His flashlight beam swept across the chamber, illuminating a cluster of crates near the far wall. Several showed signs of forced entry—pry marks, broken latches. Contents spilled into the zero-g space: scorched engine components, vials containing crystalline ore fragments, tangled bundles of fiber optic cables glinting with residual particulate matter. "Staging area confirmed," Jansen logged verbally. "Appears related to meltdown-era salvage operations. Evidence of recent tampering with storage units."


    Reyes tethered himself to a nearby structural support. His scanner emitted a low hum as he directed it towards the chamber center. The device''s display showed flickering energy readings. "Low-frequency EM pulse detected," Reyes reported over comms. "Stronger pulse amplitude near chamber center. Source originates deeper within station structure—possible failing power core." He knelt beside a console half-buried under fallen debris. Federation markings showed faded beneath grime. Angular red symbols—spray-painted?—pulsed faint under the nebula light overlaying the original script. "Console shows pirate encryption layers. Attempting interface." Reyes connected his portable data unit. The console screen flickered, displaying fragmented green text lines against a dark background.


    Hara propelled herself towards a stack of standard datacubes near the side wall. Her flashlight beam caught movement—a non-standard object nested within the debris. Roughly hexagonal, metallic casing, surface etched with unfamiliar glyphs. It emitted a faint, rhythmic light pulse, synchronized with the scanner''s EM field readings. She maneuvered closer, secured the object carefully in a containment bag. "Non-Federation artifact located," she reported. "Emitting low-level energy signature matching ambient EM pulse. Geometric markings inconsistent with known databases." A low hum emanated from the container now holding the device, faintly audible over the suit comms.


    Lt. JG Janice Howell examined the far wall. Her flashlight beam revealed a holo-projector unit partially crushed beneath a fallen ceiling beam. She worked it free, gloved hands brushing dust from its casing. The dust particles glinted red in the nebula light. She connected a backup power cell. The projector whirred faint. A grainy map projection flickered into the air—amber lines depicting star lanes within the Supernova Corridor sector. Labeled points pulsed: ''Cassini'', ''Haven Network - Partial''. A third marker blinked erratically: ''SC-13 Outpost - Coordinates Corrupted''. A text fragment appeared beside it: ''WARSHIP ASSEMBLY COMPONENTS - PRIORITY RELAY''. The projection dissolved into static. "Holo-map recovered," Howell stated. "Indicates Haven network structure. Station A identified as node. Shows link to SC-13, coordinates unstable. References ''warship assembly components''."


    Jansen looked up from the console where Reyes worked. "Console logs confirm recent access using pirate encryption," Jansen reported. "Cross-referencing map data with recovered log fragments." He pointed to text scrolling on his datapad screen. "''SC-13'' matches pre-supernova designation—listed ''status lost'' post-Betelgeuse event." He highlighted another line. "''Warship production facility'' reference located—experimental phase status." He looked towards Reyes.


    Reyes nodded, fingers tracing lines on his console display. "Log analysis ongoing... heavy data corruption from meltdown interference... Confirms resource extraction focus. References schematic fragments... high-yield beam weapon... estimated fifty-megaton range minimum." He pulled up a corrupted schematic image—lines distorted, data missing, but showing components similar to the warship weapon system encountered at Cassini. "Design parameters exceed known pirate tech levels. Potential Federation origin, modified."


    Hara drifted closer, holding the contained artifact. "Device signature analysis indicates possible harmonic resonance function," she stated, reviewing scanner data relayed to her wrist display. "May interact with specific energy fields or materials. Potential link to Ring navigation or power systems."


    Howell examined a physical logbook recovered near the holo-projector. Pages showed brittle, coated in frost. She turned a page carefully. "Final log entry: ''Flare event imminent - initiate evacuation protocol. Hostile entity designated ''Ring'' converging on cache location. SC-13 activation sequence confirmed''." Ink faded, script hurried. "Federation personnel abandoned station under duress. Ring forces targeted specific archived data or materials."


    Jansen processed the inputs. "SC-13 appears to be the primary lead," he stated, voice level. "A repurposed Federation site, potentially manufacturing Ring warships. This explains their force projection capability." He turned towards the team. "Objective complete. Recovered data points to SC-13 and Haven network structure. Secure artifact and logbook. Prepare for extraction."


    The team moved through the chamber, securing the designated items. Reyes ran a final scan sweep. "No explosive devices detected. No active sensor grids," he reported. "Power core emission remains stable—low-level decay signature." Hara confirmed containment on the artifact. Howell secured the logbook. Jansen took one last look around the chamber. Nebula light pulsed red through the ceiling tear. Floating debris drifted slow. The low hum from the station core continued. "Clear," Jansen confirmed. "Return to shuttle."


    They secured the gear. The hexagonal beacon clicked shut inside its padded container; a low hum vibrated faint through Hara''s gloves against the metal. Reyes clutched the dark data unit—fragmented logs flickering across its surface before the screen went blank. They moved back through the Ops Distribution vault. Flashlight beams sliced the pulsing crimson haze, light striking frost and shimmering dust on silent, towering crates. The low vibration from the station''s core – gone now. Only the faint hiss of suit regulators broke the silence, punctuated by the soft CLANK of magnetic boots striking the pockmarked floor. Cold metal. Still air.


    Back through the junction. Flashlight beams slid past sealed hatches—Power Relay, Cargo Bay B—faded labels stark under corroded metal. Eyes stayed forward; the crude map pointed this way. The air in the transit tube felt colder. Breath plumed thick, instant clouds against visors. Frost glittered heavy on buckled walls, sharp ice-fractal patterns catching the nebula''s deep red light. The low-frequency pulse Reyes had chased—absent. Only deep groans echoed through the station''s frame – metal settling, contracting in the void''s chill.


    The wall scratches looked deeper under the ascending lights. Hara''s beam lingered on the spiral gouge near the maintenance bay junction. Someone fought. The thought, unbidden, sharp. She moved a fraction faster, the CLANK of her boots echoing louder off the grated floor.


    Howell''s light aimed up the spiraling access shaft. "Almost there. Moving." The climb felt slow. Magnetic boots chunked onto metal rungs. Drifting debris—shattered consoles, twisted plating—floated past in the flashlight cones. Through the massive, cracked viewport: the Betelgeuse nebula writhed, coppery tendrils stark against the black. Reyes tapped the console he''d worked; its screen stayed dark, dead.


    Through branching corridors. Past walls etched strange symbols, deeper gouges. Back to the airlock. Each magnetic step heavy. SC-13. Kingship factory. Hidden world. The data points, unverified, heavy as the beacon Hara carried.


    The inner airlock door hissed open. The docking bay lay beyond, hollow, lit dim by nebula glow through hull rents. Their stealth shuttle sat angled on the deck, a sleek gray wedge. Optical camouflage off. Clean lines sharp against the station''s rust. Dust motes stirred, dancing gold-red in their beams.


    "Howell, Reyes, prep launch," Jansen''s voice, tight through the comm. "Hara, final external sweep from hatchway. I''ll secure inner lock."


    Howell and Reyes moved fast towards the shuttle ramp, magnetic boots loud on the plating. Hara stepped to the outer threshold, scanner sweeping the cavernous dark. Rusted clamps. Drifting cables. Deep shadows. Nothing. Only the faint electric hum from the nebula brushing the dead hull. "All clear, Lieutenant," her voice clipped. Jansen hit the seal control behind them. A heavy CLANG, the sharp hiss of repressurization.


    Inside the shuttle''s cramped airlock, they worked quick, unclipping tethers, shedding outer EVA layers. Cycling through. The cockpit''s amber glow felt warm, sudden. Howell dropped into the pilot''s seat, fingers a blur across lit controls. Reyes strapped into navigation, the jump vector pulling up on his screen—a line aimed toward Cassini.


    "All systems green," Howell reported, voice calm. "Thrusters ready. Clamps released."


    "Coordinates locked," Reyes confirmed. "Quantum drive spooling. Ready for jump, Lieutenant."


    Jansen strapped into the command seat. He secured the beacon container, Reyes''s data unit clicking into its restraint beside it. He glanced at Hara at ops. Eyes met through open visors. We have it.


    "Take us out, Howell," Jansen said, voice low, clear. "Easy drift. Clear the mass shadow. Engage cloak, then jump."


    "Aye, Lieutenant." Howell nudged the thrusters. The shuttle lifted, a hum near-silent. It drifted smooth out of the docking bay. Frontier Station A receded through the viewport—a skeletal shape against the nebula''s swirling crimson and amber. Dead framework dwindling, swallowed fast by the haze.


    "Optical cloak engaged," Howell confirmed. The view outside shimmered, then dissolved into the corridor''s background energy.


    "Quantum drive charged," Reyes announced. "Initiating jump... Mark."


    Howell hit the control. The shuttle trembled deep. Vibration built under their feet. The viewport erupted—kaleidoscope tunnel, amber dust smearing violet, gold, stars stretched thin to light threads. Cocooned again. Hurtling blind. Data fragments from a dead station accelerating through the void.