Somewhere in a cold, desolate quadrant of the Barnard 33 neighborhood, a few hundred lightyears from the New Sol Sector, was a lone space vessel. It drifted at a steady 500-knot course for the Zeta Orionis star system, otherwise known as Alnitak, with no other purpose than to await contact with her companion vessels, as well as instructions regarding her next assignment.

The solitary vessel was a Beagle-class hybrid carrier corvette by the name of ESS Trident, once running point for a three-ship outer scouting convoy bound for a secret REN drydock reported in this sector, now long-destroyed by the other ships.

Unfortunately for the CRAI vessel, the logistics carrier ESS Gallardo was taken down by the REN drydock defenses and the stealth cruiser ESS Vanguard was lost during a confrontation with the REN starship RES Cully, which seemed oblivious to the previous attack as it was far out of local communication range. The Trident was able to neutralize the REN destroyer, but was now left to fend for itself in the bleak vastness with limited ordnance after the attack on the drydock.

The bridge glowed a bright blue that reflected off of several chrome surfaces, giving the impression of being in a fish aquarium. Not even the lights from control panels and CRT viewscreens broke the solid shade and only lit individual crewmen that manned those particular stations.

Captain Haggard hunched over a readout near the communication array, scanning the yellow text that filled the screen slowly due to a severe time lag. It was straight from the CRAI outer-colony command somewhere near the outer-rim of the Sol Sector. Attached to it were supplemental digital documents regarding relevant REN vessels.

The message and documents were automatically printed to a hard copy, the stack of papers which Haggard immediately ripped from the slot on the console with sudden ferocity as he hastily made his way forward of the bridge. "Damnation!" He cursed, marching for the nav-computer console near his XO, Commander Leer. "These orders are ten hours old!" His voice was low and scratchy, with a hint of a Swedish accent.

Leer finished lighting a cigarette and approached his CO inquisitively. "We finally got a line?"

Haggard punched commands into the console, copying the data on the document crumpled in his hand. "Straight from Sol Sector Command. It's about fucking time too. Look at it, you won't believe it." He handed the papers to the XO.

Leer removed the cigarette from his lips as it was about to fall out of his mouth. "But-.. How do they expect us to do anything after being cut off from the fleet? Even then, we don't have any escorts left!"

"Exactly. Those G4 assholes are working on my last nerve." The assignment was based purely on the theoretical outcome of the three-ship convoy successfully carrying out the previous mission with only one possible loss. The encounter with the Cully was an unexpected snag that resulted in the loss of their other escort and onboard resources, a detail of which, though unknown to the intelligence division of Sol Sector Command, was a major statistical oversight. Now they were left with additional orders built on that blunder.

Leer read the documents again. "An Athena-class from Gateway... I thought all of those were decommissioned?"

"According to Sunrise - that's one of their agents - they're being retrofitted in response to our new UCAVs. But a few vessels are still vulnerable with outdated systems, that one included, which could give us an upper hand. He also said they're en route to a secret base somewhere past the Fleming Corridor. That one is scheduled to pass by this sector..." He did the math in his head, "In about an hour, I'd say."

"So am I understanding correctly that we're supposed to shadow its course without fleet support? Without any convoy support at all?"

Haggard shook his head. "Orders are orders."

"Sir, we don't have enough munitions or deck fighters to repel an attack if we're discovered! Our resources are so scarce right now that-..."

Haggard sharply ripped the papers out of his hands. "I'm bloody well aware of that, Leer!" He made his way to the control area, slapping the documents onto the Quartermaster's console. "Lieutenant Rankin, get a hold of the ESS Fortuna and ESS Celaeno. They reported operating around this sector yesterday." He sneeringly turned to his XO. "Feel better?"

"I can't do that, Captain," Rankin responded to the order, "We lost contact with them seventeen hours ago. The Celaeno is uncounted for and the Fortuna was in pursuit of an Amalthea-class corvette when her reactor melted down."

Haggard was almost at a loss for words regarding the new information, his mental plans of action unraveling before they could properly develop. "Fucking-... Shit! Well, get a hold of someone! Anyone!"

"We can't!" Leer insisted, "Captain, we're completely cut off!"

Haggard was about to respond, but stifled as he stormed back to nav-computer, assessing the situation. The Commander was right. Other than the line to Sol Sector Command, they were in complete isolation in a vastly dead sector, lightyears from the nearest GALCOM-NET hotspot. By the time it took to send a response back to them, the REN vessel that they were ordered to shadow would be long gone, safely at its currently unknown destination, and the orders were specific to the time frame. They had no choice but to comply, limited resources or not.

Haggard let out an exhausted sigh of surrender. "Rankin?"

"Sir?" The helmsman responded.

"Bring up the coordinates I copied into the nav-computer and set a course. Make your speed 700 knots."

"Aye, setting course. Speed, 700 knots." Rankin entered the appropriate commands into his console.

"And keep all channels open while we're underway. If you get any CRAI signal, fleet, individual vessel, whatever, hail them ASAP and report."

"Aye, Captain."

Leer attempted to approach the captain as he turned for the hatch to exit the room. "But Captain! We-..."

"I don't want to hear it!" He continued out the door without missing a beat. "You have the Conn. I'll be in my cabin if you need me."

Leer punched a nearby duct in a fit of rage, straining to retain a collected and professional temperament. He forced himself to evaluate their circumstances, understanding the orders that had been relayed to the Trident. It was possible to confront a spacecraft with outdated systems should the situation arise, but it was still a mere carrier-corvette up against a heavily-fortified supervessel. It was potential suicide.

The XO thanked whatever divine influence held in the heavens of the nebula that such a scenario was only secondary to the primary objective of discreet reconnaissance, in the event that their presence was discovered by the REN starship. He took a long, hard puff from the neglected cigarette, calming his apprehensive nerves.

Transmissions were fuzzy on Ferrin's PDA as he searched for a music station of his liking, but he finally settled on one that came in clear and happened to be playing one of his favorite songs, Solitary Nite by Line. "That's more like it."

Him and Rainbow both sat on their designated cots in the cramped quarters, making the best of the dimly-lit confines. Dash was attempting to immerse herself in the world of Daring Do, having brought the book along with her supplies in the duffel bag under her cot. It was a feeble effort to shut out the tin-can feeling of the room, even more so with Ferrin's choice of music.

She put the book down and turned to him irritably. "Ugh, how can you stand that bubblegum crap?"

He shot her another authoritative look, much like the one back at the hangar bay when they first met. "Instead of criticizing my taste in music, maybe you should make yourself useful. You know, instead of laying there reading and sleeping for hours."

She returned to the book. "I'm building my energy."

"For what? More sleeping and reading? Sorry, your highness, but that's not gonna fly here. Go clean your fighter or something."

"I would if I knew which one's mine."

"The callsigns are stencilled on the cockpit canopies. Which you would've known if you had payed closer attention to the fuselage of my own fighter before climbing in."

"Hey, the roster said it was unassigned, sue me."

"Those maintenance documents are never up to date before departing, trust me."

"Okay... what if I get lost?"

"There's terminals on every deck for the ship's VI, it'll help you navigate the ship."

"What if it makes fun of my new manecut?"

"Dash, are you intentionally trying to piss me off?"

She barely suppressed a giggle from behind the book. "Yes."

"Well, don't. You'll find that to be a deadly mistake."

"I'm trembling."

The central control area of the engine room was engulfed in a cloud of musky smoke coming from one of the two engineers that occupied it, namely Alessi as he sucked the herbal essence of his loosely-rolled joint into his system. He handed it out to his counterpart with squinted and reddened eyes. "Here, mio amico. If you have a tulpa or two, this is one way to get closer to them."

Onyx waved his hoof with decline of his CO's offer. "No thanks, man. And actually, that's not true. Studies show that their presence is more prominent with a clear head. In any event, I don't have the time or patience for yakshit like that."

Alessi retracted it back to his mouth, taking another hit. "I don't blame you. Who needs the extra responsibility when there's plenty of you bilge rats to babysit!" He shouted that last part to the crew beyond the cloud.

"With all due respect, sir,"A voice came from behind some machinery, "Screw off!"

"Ha! You guys remind me of the old machinists!"

"Just trying to fill the shoes of past legacies!"

He shook his head in disbelief, turning to Onyx. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"I'm more concerned as to why you allow your other subordinates to talk like that."

"Fuck it, I'm too high to care. At least they're keeping themselves busy."

"Engine room, Conn," Lowther hailed on the comm system, "Prep systems for FTL travel."

Alessi dropped the joint onto the console and flipped switches to activate relevant hardware belonging to the Light Drive reactor core. "Conn, engine room, preparing systems for FTL travel." He was assisted by Onyx entering commands into his own console while also monitoring the core readings.

"All hands, rig for FTL!" Gregory commanded over the shipwide comm.

"Sir," Began Lowther to the captain, "Reactors are at a hundred percent. Ready to engage Light Drive on your command."

"Alright," Said Mead, "Cut main engines and engage Light Drive. Same heading."

"Aye, maintaining course. Shutting down vacuum drive and engaging Light Drive."

"You think she can handle it?" Gregory asked Mead, "This early in the refurbishment?"

"We'll certainly find out, won't we, Mister Gregory?"

Silence filled the bridge before metal creaks and groans could be heard from the inner workings, followed by a slight vibration due to the engines working on the starship equivalent of overdrive as the Light Drive propelled them into FTL travel.

To a fixed perspective, the Dreadnaught would have appeared to vanish in a flash of light from the engine outlets, but to the occupants, it was truly a sight to behold. Not only were various celestial bodies passing by at noticeably variable speeds depending on distance, but the whole universe around them seemed to distort and warp, as if being rearranged like objects on the surface of water. They were literally traveling through time as their destination existed thousands of lightyears beyond their original point of origin.

The distant radiance of the night sky had always been a window to the past for Equestrian observers, as well as the humans before them. It was a universal dream to someday reach them, shrouded with limitations in technology and the understanding of the universe around us. But now it was possible to bend the universe at our will, to reach what was thought to be unreachable, and what lies beyond. Past ignorances forever derelict in our wake, for the future was here to change life itself with a new perspective. If only the CRAI had embraced the blessings of science and unity as the Equestrians had.

"Conn, Radar," McKelvy was hesitant to report, "Friendly contact on long-range FTL scanners."

The forward and aft-facing scanners utilized during FTL travel were specific in their purpose for detecting objects in the path of the starship, allowing for last-minute course corrections to avoid a possible collision. They utilized the same datastream technology as the GALCOM-NET, allowing data to be funneled beneath normally percieved space, in the previously uncharted void of hyperspace existing at infinite variables between space and time. This allowed data to be transferred between locations existing at different points in the known galaxy without the latency caused by time dilation.

McKelvy's face turned a pale white as he read the data on his screen. "Oh no..."

Mead and Koroma turned to him curiously as the quiet exclamation had caught the watch officers off guard, especially considering that he had reported the contact as friendly.

"Radar, Conn," Gregory pressed, "Specify contact."

McKelvy's eyes shifted from his monitor and met the floor. "The RES Cully... departing A-95." He looked back to the screen, surprised to find that the Alnitak-95 drydocks were no longer registering on the equipment. He withheld the information, remembering that the attack on the REN base had already been reported in the GALCOM-NET encrypted channels regarding galactic readiness.

Koroma turned to the captain, watching his eyes widen as he faced a previously-recorded event that he dreaded to experience a second time, let alone in the physical realm. A pit formed at her stomach that was shared among the two officers as utter hopelessness struck the light of their being. They both understood that what they were witnessing was simply a distortion in time, as the event of the REN destroyer's demise was unfolding in rapid succession as they crossed its quadrant. It was an uncommon occurrence with vessels entering FTL travel, but still remained an inconvenient truth that tainted subspace navigation, for it was the core of nightmares that haunted all space travelers who had lost comrades to the cold darkness.

McKelvy noticed two other signatures nearby the Cully, apparently engaged in combat as one blip disappeared from the screen.

"Captain, look!" Gregory pointed ahead at a twinkle of white light in the distance of the morphing starfield.

"It's one of the ships she was engaged with." Mead's voice was monotone as he masked his emotions about the event, recalling the documents that he had read back at Gateway. "Direct hit on the reactor core."

The Cully's signature was now absent on the Radar Tech's console. "She's gone."

Mead inhaled deeply, sealing his eyes shut while straining to grasp his rationality. There was still another spacecraft left over from the attack, and it needed to be accounted for. "And the remaining CRAI vessel?"

McKelvy's screen was blank, as the other ship had traversed a great distance away from the quadrant as of their current point in time. "Gone, Captain. Last known course was for Alnitak. The star system, not the-..."

"Yes, I know." Mead kept his eyes shut, bracing himself on the center support structure. The despair was overwhelming and apparent to Koroma, drawing an act of comfort as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

A klaxon sounded at the the control console near Lieutenant Rankin's station at the helm. The Radar Tech checked the warning, discovering a signature at the edge of a CRT screen belonging to the detection systems. "Conn, Radar," The tech called out, "TEM transient on long-range scanners... bearing three-one-five at 500 knots. It's heading for the Westwind Quasar."

Commander Leer punched the intercom button at the navigation console. "Captain Haggard, you're needed on the bridge." He repeated the report, while informing of their sensor contact, then headed over to the tech. "Lieutenant Webb, can you specify?"

"It's an REN supercarrier. Athena-class. Database registers it as the RES Dreadnaught, sir."

"That's it. That's the ship!"

Captain Haggard burst onto the deck and rushed over to the console next to his XO. "I have the Conn. What'd you find?"

"It's the Athena-class," Leer answered, relaying its heading for the quasar.

Haggard turned to Rankin. "Come about twenty-six and match its course, 700 knots for now. Reduce to 500 when we're one light-hour from their maximum detection range."

"Aye, Captain." Rankin carried out the command, altering their course to follow the enemy vessel.

"She's entering FTL!" Webb reported with tension in his voice.

"Rankin!" Haggard shouted, "Kill vacuum drive and engage Light Drive! Increase reactor power at one-oh-eight percent!"

"Aye, engaging Light Drive!"

Haggard lit a cigarette and did a quick calculation in his head before turning back to the Quartermaster. "We're going to fall short twenty light hours at this speed. Consult the Chief Engineer about the possibility of pushing the reactor to a hundred and ten percent."

Rankin glanced to the XO for reassurance, then to the captain. "Sir, that's not recommend-..."

"I don't care what's recommended, I asked if it can be done. I'm not going to waste fuel at subspace level just to let them slip by, and I'm not going to waste time arguing, so get a hold of engineering and ask if we can increase reactor power."

Rankin resigned his concern and silently did as commanded, hitting the comm button to the engine room.

Leer approached him to the side and whispered: "According to Rankin, this is how the Fortuna bit the dust. If I may say so, sir, I hope you know what you're doing."

Haggard took a puff from his cigarette while observing the data on nearby viewscreens. "So do I."

Electricity arced off of the surface of the reactor core, licking past the heat-exchanger ducts in dangerous proximity of the two engineers seated at the control console. They bolted from their seat in a rush of panic, snapping out of their relaxed state of mind.

"Whoa!" Onyx shouted, "Was that normal?"

Alessi shook his head and reached for the console, his hands a blur as he entered commands into the diagnostic software. "Something's wrong with the control node!"

"What do we do?"

The readings on several gauges convulsed and settled in the red zone, much to the alarm of the Chief Engineer as he hit the comm button. "Conn, Engineering, we've got a major problem here!"

Lowther answered: "Engine room, Conn, what's going on?"

"High energy output in the reactor core!"

"How high?"

"Abnormally high! I got red zone all over my board!"

Sparks shot out of a nearby control panel, its circuitry overheating and melting from the increased core temperature and sensory overload. Steam vents began spewing mist of emergency coolant in a loud hiss that nearly deafened the personnel.

"The turbines are going to seize at this level!"

"Say again your last?"

Alessi rolled his eyes. "I said core levels are rising! Turbines are critical!"

"Wait, the core is critical?"

He was growing more irritated at the misunderstandings due to the hissing of the coolant. "No! No! The turbines! The turbines are critical! We need to cut the Light Drive!"

One of the ducts at a far end of the compartment burst apart and showered molten plasma onto some of the support structures.

"Oh, merda, emergency vent! Now!"

Onyx attempted to turn dials on the console further than permitted. "The PCA's open all the way!"

"Shut it down! Shut it down!"

Onyx met his partner's pace and entered commands into the master control to shut the FTL reactor down and deactivate thrust.

"What's the problem, Lowther?" Mead asked to the Quartermaster.

"Engine room is reporting that the turbines are critical."

Mead glanced at the navigation console to check their current position relative to the quasar. "Tell them to spit on 'em for three more minutes. We're almost there."

"I'm reading red lights here, Captain!"

"Three more minutes!"

"Captain!" Alessi shouted directly over the comm, "If we lose the turbines, we lose the vacuum drive! I'm shutting it down now!"

Mead rushed over to the helm. "No, stop! We can't break this far from the GALCOM-NET should we require maintenance! I'm asking for two minutes! Just two minutes!"

"We don't have two minutes!"

A warning light flashed on the helm control. "We're losing the starboard engine!"

Mead quickly re-evaluated his course of action and gave in to the seriousness of the situation. "Alright, all engines full stop! Full stop!"

Lowther flipped the switches on his console. "Killing drive engines! They're already shutting down the core."

"Captain," Rankin addressed, "Engineering said we can increase to one-ten, but strongly advises that we stay within that range to avoid overload on the turbines."

"Very good," Haggard acknowledged, "Increase to a hundred and ten percent."

"Aye." Rankin steadily increased the core power, speeding up their journey through FTL and catching up with the REN carrier.

Violent tremors resonated off of the hybrid carrier's hull, signifying the strain being put on their advanced powerplant. It was enough for everyone on the watch to stare ahead apprehensively as to the outcome of their passage, their foreheads rivulating with sweat.

The Dreadnaught suddenly appeared to slow on the Radar Tech's screen, coming to a complete stop in regular space. "Sir, they've disengaged Light Drive!"

Instead of inquiring despite his eager concern, he hastily ordered a full stop on the Light Drive before they could overshoot.

Another duct exploded, this time raining its contents onto vital systems connecting to the turbines. The giant fan-like machines came to a grinding halt, sending an inertial shockwave through the compartment that sent several personnel flying from their platforms and onto the hard metal surfaces of the catwalks.

"Porca puttana!" Alessi bellowed, bracing himself onto the console.

Onyx slid across the floor and grabbed hold of a lip that met the railing, slicing his hoof on the sharp protrusion. He grunted in pain and held his wounded limb close, staining his uniform and fur a scarlet red.

Alessi hit emergency shutdown switches on every system in the compartment, even the lights, sure to kill any power flow that could further damage the rest of the sensitive systems. The engine room flickered to a medieval appearance in the likeness of mythical hell, eerily lit a yellow-orange by electrical fires sprung forth by the short-circuiting hardware.

"Extinguishers!" Alessi yelled, heading to a blazing control panel.

Onyx climbed to his hooves and ripped a fire extinguisher off the wall and threw it to the Chief Engineer, seeking out another one to assist.

As each fire was put out by the scrambling engineers, the room became blanketed in total darkness. All that remained for light sources were PDAs hung from the crew's belts and small headlamps that were slowly turned on. Their illumination of the machinery was obscured by thick smoke clouds swirling around them, forcing them to cough and breath through their uniforms until they could break out the emergency breathing apparatuses.

By now the ship was at a completely dead stop in space, only slightly in motion from the previous velocity exerted on it. Like a piece of driftwood on a calm river, its crew the stranded insects watchful of potential predators.