Chapter 6: Cosmic Blender

The Vanguard sliced through space like a predator fleeing unseen hunters, its engines humming with an urgency Nova rarely had to push them to. Inside the ship, tension hung heavy, and each member of the Delta-S team felt it like a physical weight.

Scar sat in the command chair, his helmet cradled in his hands. The events on the moon still played in his mind—the Tark’rah, Arlen’s desperate plea, and the firefight that had erupted from the split-second decision he’d made. Scar was used to making hard choices, but this one felt different. The boy’s fear had seeped into his bones, leaving a lingering ache of uncertainty.

Nova’s voice cut through the silence. “We’re clear of the moon’s orbit,” she reported, her tone clipped but calm. “Setting course for Proxima-B.”

Scar raised his head, exhaustion creeping into his gaze. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “We can’t go back to Proxima-B. Not yet. Delta Command might already know we’ve broken protocol.”

Jefro spun in his chair, his wrist interface glowing as lines of data scrolled across the screen. “We could plot a course through the Keldian Drift,” he suggested. “It’s a nebula cluster with heavy radiation and gravitational anomalies. No one in their right mind would follow us there.”

Cyko, slouched in his seat with his rifle resting across his knees, let out a low whistle. “Keldian Drift, huh? Great. Trading angry aliens for space storms and cosmic death traps.”

Scar rubbed a hand over his face, thinking fast. “It’s our best shot at buying time to figure this out.” He turned to Nova. “Set a course for the Drift. Full speed.”

Nova’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. Her fingers danced over the controls, and the Vanguard banked hard, engines roaring as they altered course. The viewport filled with the glittering expanse of stars, a beautiful but unforgiving abyss.

Scar stood and walked toward the back of the ship, where Arlen sat hunched over in a jump seat, his knees pulled to his chest. The boy looked up as Scar approached, his eyes hollow with fear and exhaustion. Scar knelt down to his level, searching Arlen’s face for any clue, any sign of what to do next.

“Arlen,” Scar began, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “I need to know what you meant when you said you know the truth about Proxima-B.”

The boy swallowed, his small hands clutching the fabric of his jumpsuit. “My father,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “He was a scientist on the Proxima-B Project. He told me things... before Delta Command took him away.”

Scar’s brows furrowed. “What things?”

Arlen’s eyes glistened, and he glanced away, as if the words were too heavy to speak. “Proxima-B... it’s dying. The planet’s orbit is unstable. It’s drifting closer to the sun, and soon it’ll be uninhabitable. My father found a way out—a new world beyond a wormhole in the Cordillera Expanse. But Delta Command... they didn’t want that knowledge shared.”

The words hit Scar like a physical blow. His mind raced, connecting dots that he hadn’t even known were there. Proxima-B had always been humanity’s last hope, but if Arlen was telling the truth, everything they’d built was on borrowed time.

Cyko appeared beside Scar, his usual grin nowhere to be seen. “If this kid’s right,” he said, his voice low, “we’ve got bigger problems than a pissed-off alien army.”

Scar’s jaw tightened. “We’ll worry about that once we’re safe.”

But safety seemed like a distant dream. Jefro’s voice crackled through the comms. “Scar, we’ve got a problem.”

Scar stood and moved back to the command console, Cyko and Nova joining him. Jefro gestured at the screen, where a blinking red dot pulsed against the backdrop of the Keldian Drift. “We’re being followed,” he announced grimly. “A Delta Command frigate. They must’ve picked up our trajectory before we changed course.”

Scar cursed under his breath. “How long until they catch up?”

Jefro’s fingers danced across his interface. “If they go full burn? Twenty minutes, tops.”

Nova clenched her teeth. “We won’t survive a direct confrontation. That frigate’s got firepower we can’t match.”

Scar’s mind worked at breakneck speed, formulating a plan. “Jefro, any way we can lose them in the Drift?”

Jefro’s brow furrowed. “It’s risky. The gravitational anomalies could rip us apart if we’re not careful. But... yeah. It’s possible.”

Scar’s gaze hardened. “Do it.”

Jefro punched in the coordinates, and Nova’s hands flew to the controls. The Vanguard lurched forward, plunging into the swirling depths of the Keldian Drift. Colors erupted around them: violent shades of purple and blue, interspersed with streaks of lightning that cracked through the void.

The ship bucked and groaned, its shields straining under the gravitational forces. Jefro’s hands were a blur, rerouting power and stabilizing the ship as best he could. “Hold her steady!” he shouted.

Nova gripped the controls, sweat beading on her forehead. “I’m trying, but she’s fighting me!”

Cyko braced himself, his rifle clattering against the wall as the ship jolted. “Remind me why we’re flying into a cosmic blender?”

Scar’s knuckles turned white as he held onto a support rail. “Because it’s better than being vaporized!”

The Delta Command frigate followed them into the Drift, its sleek form cutting through the chaos. But the Keldian Drift was a labyrinth, and the Vanguard was smaller, more agile. Nova weaved through the gravitational distortions, narrowly avoiding bursts of energy that exploded like miniature supernovas.

“Jefro!” Scar barked. “Can you give us any advantage?”

Jefro’s eyes widened as a new readout appeared. “There’s a collapsing gravity well ahead,” he said. “If we time it right, we can use it to slingshot out of here. But if we’re off by even a fraction—”

“We’ll be space debris,” Nova finished, her voice tight.

Scar didn’t hesitate. “Do it. Everyone, hold on!”

Nova adjusted their trajectory, her hands shaking from the strain of fighting the controls. The Vanguard surged toward the gravity well, and for a moment, it felt like the universe was holding its breath. The ship groaned under the pressure, the hull creaking, and then—

A burst of speed. The Vanguard shot out of the Drift like a bullet, propelled by the collapsing well. The Delta Command frigate wasn’t as lucky; it veered off course, its engines struggling to compensate as it was caught in the gravitational maelstrom.

Cheers erupted inside the Vanguard, Cyko whooping loudly. “Hell yeah! That was one for the books!”

Jefro collapsed back in his chair, his chest heaving. “Never... doing that... again.”

Nova let out a shaky breath, but her eyes remained focused. “We’re clear. For now.”

Scar closed his eyes, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. They had escaped, but the reality of Arlen’s revelation still loomed. Proxima-B was dying, and Delta Command was hiding the truth. They had more enemies than they realized, and every second was a countdown to catastrophe.