Bullets and lasers ricocheted in the corridor like a dangerous game of mixed futuristic and twenty-first century pinball. Men collapsed with shouts of pain as projectiles dug into their flesh, orange flame danced at sporadic areas along the passageway. The smell of blood was rancid and small pools of the liquid flowed from fallen soldier’s corpses—a new body joined the dead at very short intervals.

Hell in a corridor.

Onvelor was the one performing the slaughtering, while he moved swiftly and lethally through the corridor towards the enemy docking tube. Any man within a few feet of him was felled almost immediately.

The final deed of Onvelor Jou Dematin would not be stopped from befalling the enemy ship.

As he ran down the passageway, an unstoppable human killing machine, he heard a soldier yell into a communicator: “He’s heading for the Jingoist II!”

Onvelor dove into the enemy docking tube and charged down it for the U.E.S.F. Cruiser Jingoist II. He sprinted through the tube, the remaining few survivors shooting laser bolts in his direction from behind him.

Buried memories surfaced as he raced to enact his final deed. Memories of the person he ultimately failed. Memories reminding him of the reason he believed there was no redemption for him. Memories that made him believe, know, he had to do this.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he ran, tortured by the images taking forefront in his mind’s eye. Unshakeable. Relentless.

‘I know you’ll never be able to forgive me… but I’m sorry.’ Onvelor thought to the memories as he continued his unfaltering sprint. ‘There’s no second go, what I’ve done cannot be reversed, but the future is untarnished and you will live on to change it with whatever path you traverse.’

…

The Future Spirit, Main Command Bridge, Deep Neutral Space

L.aE.A.I. 26-MAS, better known as ‘Robert’, supervised the reconfiguring of The Future Spirit’s remaining engines with hyperdrive via his HUD and wireless connection to the Journey-class starvessel’s systems as he observed an explosion emanating from the U.E.S.F. Cruiser Jingoist II. The blast destroyed the enemy side of the docking tube terminal, disconnecting the two spacecraft and rocking The Future Spirit violently as it was weighed down on the portside by the docking tube still attached to it. The tube creaked and suddenly broke off, again jostling the starvessel harshly. However, the ship was undamaged from the rough disconnection of the docking tube and recovered almost immediately.

Onvelor Jou Dematin was gone, and nothing could be done concerning it. Even if Robert tried, his temporarily overridden programming prevented him from attempt at anything but preservation of The Future Spirit and his own escape with the pods.

Robert knew he didn’t have much time now, but as he tried to speed up the reconfiguring process, the droid took a moment to simply stand by the main viewport, staring at the destroyed docking tube terminal of the Jingoist II and the space rubble, to say, “Goodbye, sir… You’re final act will not be in vain.”

…

U.E.S.F. Fleet Command Cruiser Jurisdiction, M.C.B., Deep Neutral Space

Grassion Wotes, Commander of the secondary U.E.S.F. Outer Fleet, stood flummoxed on the Bridge of his starcruiser. He had moments before witnessed the destruction of the Jingoist II’s docking tube terminal. It had been his final direct link to that extremist Dematin’s cursed Journey-class starvessel; one of the Jurisdiction’s own docking tubes was already severed, and they could not maneuver into the desired position to utilize the tube on the opposite side.

Wotes had ordered rescue shuttles to be sent to the rubble of the Jingoist II’s tube, which were now deploying from Emergency Hanger 01. If anyone still inside the docking unit before its destruction had survived, the shuttles would find them.

The notion no one had a clue as to whether Onvelor Jou Dematin remained living or had fallen to the fate of death was another incentive for deploying the search-and-rescue craft. Reports from the boarding team indicated he had been in the tube, and was pushing for the Jingoist II, but beyond that his exact location upon the terminals demolition went unknown.

A suited damage reconnaissance team were in prep to assess the ruined area of the ship, but it could very well be another hour yet until Grassion received a full report from them. And during it, the Jingoist II was anchored at its present location in space, not authorized to move. It wasn’t as though the starcruiser was helplessly vulnerable—its high-grade warfare batteries were quite enough to annihilate a number of rival ships—but that it could not accompany its two counterpart vessels if needed.

“Sir,” A bridge officer said as he approached the Commander, vidpad in hand. This particular officer was namely Clevland Vacrest, the man who had served longest and most faithfully under Wotes. “Now that all our direct means of attacking the enemy’s vessel are negated, and the Jingoist II forced to a stationary position, what course of action shall we pursue? I dare say our enemy will recover quickly, if they are not already initiating a plan at this moment.”

Wotes addressed him with profound authority—as to mask any suggestion of his being vexed. “The enemy ship’s hyperdrive capability is disabled, correct Mr. Vacrest?”

“Yes, Sir. Our barrages incapacitated the ship’s hyperdrive function, destroying the main engine and secondary thrust units, along with damage to the main starboard engine.”

“What then have we to worry of our target getting away? They cannot simply produce new engines or bring out spares, can they? No. They are staying right here, where the U.E.S.F. will overcome them.”

Vacrest was evidently unconvinced. “I respect your judgment, Sir, though undoubtedly you must acknowledge Dematin has proven himself resourceful and quite capable of extremes.”

“Yes…” Grunted Wotes. “The terrorist is unpredictably more difficult to apprehend than we anticipated. And that trend will simply not continue. Why, Mr. Vacrest, must you continue? Is there something I should know?”

The officer was about to voice his response, when a shout came from a console worker on the opposite side of the bridge, “Commander, hyperenergy charge emanating from the enemy vessel’s remaining thrust units! They’re preparing a hyperspace jump!”

Wotes swore, immediately abandoning his conversation with Officer Vacrest to take command of his ship and prevent the escape of this cunning foe. ‘How could that blasted ship still have hyperdrive capability?!’ he wondered furiously, planting himself at the viewport to observe The Future Spirit.

The M.C.B. was a cacophony of shouts and reports as the U.E.S.F. realized the new development.

“Commander Wotes, we are locked onto the enemy ship’s signature and computing now their planned navigational course,” said one man.

“Hyperenergy output climbing, and will be at maximum level within approximately two minutes,” said another. “Within five, at minimum, they will be clear to jump.”

The Commander registered the reports and yelling with trained ears, knowing very well they had little time to react.

Mr. Vacrest affirmed this by asking, “Sir, what are your orders?”

Wotes stared hard at The Future Spirit, rubble floating in the cold and lifeless space around it. The starvessel’s title was written on the hull, bold and dignified. The starvessel’s intact engines were emitting an eerie blue glow, preparing to make a flight at 299,792,458 metres per second, an ability he had thought the barrages had disabled.

Rescue shuttles scouted the shattered leftovers of the docking tubes; however, keeping a safe distance from the opposing craft.

“Sir?”

The Bridge had fallen silent, everyone waiting expectantly for the Commanders order. It was a drastic change from the bustling controlled-chaos of moments before.

“Fire.” Wotes ordered in a voice of impermeable stone, eyes transfixed on Dematin’s ship.

“Commander…” Vacrest’s sentence stuck in his throat.

Abandoning his stoic position, Grassion whipped around and glared at his head Officer. “FIRE ON THAT SHIP!” He ran his glare over the entire Bridge, into the eyes of every U.E.S.F. personnel there, wordlessly asserting his unquestionable authority.

Their quarry would not escape. He would not allow himself to be outmaneuvered by a terrorist recluse. One man would not best three fully-crewed U.E.S.F. Starcruisers.

“Inform Beacon of Prosperity to make an emergency maneuver directly in front of Dematin’s starvessel!” Wotes barked to his inert Bridge crew. “He will not escape our grasp, even if we fail to destroy the ship, it will ram itself at lightspeed into an obstacle it cannot pass. Now follow the orders! Fire and have Beacon of Prosperity converge on that ships hyperspace course!”

The Bridge came to life once more. No one onboard dared object to the Commander’s plan—he made the executive decisions of the Outer Fleet Starcruiser trio, Jurisdiction, Jingoist II, and Beacon of Prosperity. Anyone who claimed him a madman or denied his command could easily be kicked out of the U.E.S.F.

Nonetheless, Clevland Vacrest found the courage to approach him amongst the bustle of the M.C.B. “We were ordered to capture Dematin and his vessel, intact, Sir.” The head Officer said in a monotone, as to speak so only Wotes could hear him.

“And at any and all costs to prevent Onvelor Jou Dematin’s escape.” The Commander reminded tersely. “If his ship wasn’t preparing to jump, we could simply send another boarding crew via shuttle—but no, it is charging for a hyperspace jump—and so the consequence of ensuring our clutch on it never yields, that this extremist and his cargo cannot go free, is to obliterate The Future Spirit.”