The Hunters

[thisDerius]

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821.A.S. - Omicron Minor

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The hum of the Alexandria's engines was a constant presence, a distant, rhythmic reminder of their isolation in the depths of the Omicron systems. The air inside the command center was tense, the dim blue glow of the consoles casting eerie shadows on the metal walls. It had been a year of endless research, skirmishes with Nomad patrols, and sleepless nights trying to decipher the true nature of the artifact that now sat locked away in the secured research bay.

John Derius Guerra sat at his workstation, reviewing the latest analysis. The readings remained as erratic as ever—energy fluctuations that made no sense, pulses of power that reacted to unknown stimuli, and most disturbingly, the gradual shift in the ship’s own power distribution whenever the artifact was being actively scanned.

Joker was across from him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he watched Derius work. There was something off about him lately, something lurking behind his usual demeanor. A distant, almost detached focus in his eyes, as if he already knew what was coming. Derius tried to shake the feeling, instead focusing on the data in front of him.

“This thing is beyond us,” Derius finally muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ve thrown every scanning technique at it, and all we’ve learned is that it’s reacting to something. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s waiting.”

Joker tilted his head slightly, his fingers tapping against the console. “Waiting for what?”

Derius exhaled sharply. “I don’t know. A command? A signal? Maybe even proximity to something it recognizes. Either way, it’s not inert. It’s doing something we can’t see, something beyond our tech.”

Joker studied him for a moment before leaning forward. “And if it were to be activated? Hypothetically.”

Derius frowned. “Then I’d like to not be on this ship when that happens.” He gestured at the screens. “Every single time we interact with it, it adapts. What if activation isn’t just ‘turning it on’? What if it’s something far worse?”

Joker nodded slowly, as if considering the possibility. Then, without a word, he stood and left the command center. Derius watched him go, feeling an uneasy chill settle in his gut. Something was wrong.

Hours later, the alarms screamed across the ship.

The Alexandria shuddered as energy surged through its core, the lights flickering violently. Derius bolted from his seat, rushing toward the nearest interface. Screens flooded with warnings—power redirections, energy spikes—before they all converged into a single, unmistakable reading.

The artifact had been activated.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the new energy signature forming right on top of them. No. No, no, no. He had been right. This wasn’t just some inert relic—it was a keystone, a beacon. And now it had done exactly what it was meant to do.

A Nomad gate had spawned within the ship’s vicinity, pulsating with unnatural light. Even before the first transmission came through, Derius knew what was happening.

They were coming.

The first Nomad battleship emerged within seconds, its organic hull glistening under the distant star’s light. Then another. Then another.

Derius turned and sprinted toward the command deck. “Joker! What the hell did you do?!”

But Joker was nowhere to be found.

Instead, the shipwide intercom crackled to life. “All hands, battle stations. Prepare for engagement.”

Tia Stormclaw’s voice was sharp, unwavering despite the chaos. She knew. She had seen this coming.

The Alexandria had no choice but to fight, but Derius already knew how this would end. There was no winning this battle. There was only escape—or death.

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Explosions ripped through the corridors of the Alexandria as the Nomad battleships unleashed hell upon the doomed vessel. The hull groaned under the relentless assault, fires breaking out across multiple decks as bulkheads collapsed, sucking men and women into the cold void of space.

Tia Stormclaw sprinted through the smoke-filled hallways, her breath ragged as she yelled into her comms. “Z., Yousei, get everyone to the pods! Now!”

“We’re on it!” came Yousei’s strained reply, the sound of gunfire crackling in the background. The Nomads weren’t just attacking from the outside—bio-organic forms had begun boarding, their eerie blue bioluminescence flickering in the darkness as they tore through the ship’s remaining defenders.

Derius was already at the hangar, frantically prepping his personal fighter. He could hear the alarms blaring overhead, the AI’s monotone voice announcing the obvious: “Catastrophic damage detected. Evacuation protocols initiated.”

The blast doors behind him hissed open, and Ella Bourne staggered in, covered in soot and carrying a wounded crewmember. “We don’t have time for this, Derius! We need to go—now!”

“I know!” Derius shouted back, slamming his fist into the console as he fought against the ship’s failing power systems to get the fighters online. He looked up just as Tia, Z., and Yousei burst into the hangar, the latter dragging Nikolai Arlov by the arm.

“Get on a ship or get left behind!” Tia barked, jumping into the cockpit of her own vessel.

Arlov shoved Yousei away, glaring. “Joker’s still on board! We can’t just leave him!”

Tia’s jaw tightened. “He’s the reason this is happening. Get on the damn ship.”

Arlov hesitated, his loyalty to Joker warring with his survival instincts. Another explosion rocked the hangar, sending debris cascading from the ceiling. A bulkhead gave way, and the violent decompression dragged one of the injured crew into the abyss before the emergency doors slammed shut.

Derius didn’t wait any longer. He sealed his cockpit and powered up the engines. “I’m launching! Last chance to move!”

Tia, Z., and Yousei followed suit. Arlov clenched his fists before finally jumping into one of the remaining ships. Ella was the last to board, her eyes scanning the wreckage one final time before sealing her hatch.

The escape ships roared to life, streaking out of the dying Alexandria as it was torn apart by the combined firepower of the Nomad fleet. The moment they cleared the battlefield, Tia’s voice cut through the comms.

“We split up from here. Get lost. Don’t look back.”

Derius took one last glance at the burning wreckage behind him before setting his course. He was heading back to Liberty.

Tia, Z., and Yousei vanished into the Kusari systems, while Ella’s ship made a silent course for Bretonia.

No one ever heard from her again.