Chapter 1: A Stowaway's Gamble
Kael Drayke gritted his teeth as the battered hull of his freighter, *The Iron Wraith*, trembled under another volley of fire. Warning lights blinked in chaotic rhythm, painting the cramped cockpit in hues of red.
"Shields are down to twenty percent!" squawked a tinny voice over the comms. It was Griv, his co-pilot and the closest thing to a friend Kael allowed himself to have. "We won’t last another hit!"
Kael’s hands danced across the controls, jaw set as he ignored the panic in Griv’s tone. He wasn’t about to die—not today, and certainly not with half a shipment of rebel weapons hidden in his cargo hold.
"Cut the chatter," he snapped. "Route all power to the engines. We outrun them, or we’re dust."
Griv’s protests were drowned out as Kael slammed the throttle forward. The *Wraith* roared in response, jerking into a desperate surge of speed. The Zenith Dominion patrol ships loomed closer on the radar, their sleek forms outclassing Kael’s aging freighter in every way. He cursed under his breath. This run had seemed simple enough: drop off weapons, collect his credits, and disappear into the void. Instead, it had turned into a death sentence.
The cockpit door hissed open, and Kael’s head whipped around, his blaster already in hand. A figure stood silhouetted against the flashing lights—slim, draped in a tattered cloak that concealed their features.
"Who the hell—"
The figure raised their hands slowly. "I’m not here to hurt you." The voice was soft but firm, undeniably female.
Kael’s grip on the blaster tightened. "Stowaway? You’ve got three seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t toss you into the airlock."
"Because if you do, you’ll never escape those patrols," she said, stepping forward. The hood slipped back, revealing sharp, intelligent eyes and a face framed by windswept dark hair. "I can get you out of here."
Kael barked a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "You? And why should I trust a stranger who sneaks onto my ship?"
"Because I’m your only chance," she shot back, her gaze steady. "I know their tactics. I know how they think."
Griv’s voice crackled over the comms. "Kael, they’re gaining!"
Kael cursed again, weighing his options. There wasn’t time to argue—or think. "Fine," he growled. "But if you screw this up, you won’t need the Dominion to kill you."
The woman ignored the threat, slipping into the co-pilot’s seat as if she belonged there. Her hands moved with practiced ease across the console, entering commands faster than Kael could follow.
"Trust me," she said, her voice a strange mixture of urgency and calm. "Jump to these coordinates."
Kael glanced at the numbers flashing on the screen. They were unfamiliar—deep space, far off any trade routes. He didn’t like it.
"Do it," she insisted, meeting his eyes. "Or die here."
With a muttered curse, Kael punched in the coordinates. The ship’s engines roared in protest, the jump sequence engaging just as another blast rocked the *Wraith*. For a heart-stopping moment, Kael thought they wouldn’t make it.
Then the stars stretched into streaks of light, and the ship hurtled into hyperspace.
The tension in the cockpit hung like smoke. Kael leaned back in his seat, heart pounding, and turned to face the stowaway.
"Start talking," he demanded. "Who are you, and what the hell are you doing on my ship?"
The woman hesitated, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "My name is Aelina. I’m…a scientist. And I’m running from the Zenith Dominion."
Kael’s eyes narrowed. "Running, huh? From what—taxes? Speeding fines?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "If they catch me, they’ll kill me. And if they do, they’ll take back what I stole."
Something in her tone made Kael pause. There was fear, yes, but also conviction. He leaned forward. "What did you steal?"
Aelina hesitated, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of her cloak. "Information. Plans for a project the Dominion is developing. If they succeed, they’ll be able to control entire populations with a single signal."
Kael stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d seen what the Dominion was capable of—razed colonies, broken lives. But this?
"Why should I believe you?" he asked finally.
"You don’t have to," she replied. "But if you take me to the rebel network, they’ll confirm it. And they’ll pay you for your trouble."
Kael leaned back, studying her. The rebels were a dangerous crowd, and he’d spent years avoiding their mess. But credits spoke louder than caution—and if Aelina was telling the truth, this was bigger than smuggling weapons.
"Fine," he said at last. "But don’t think for a second I trust you."
She nodded, her expression unreadable. "Trust isn’t necessary. Survival is."
Kael let out a dry laugh. "You’re in the wrong galaxy for survival, lady."
As the ship hummed through hyperspace, Kael couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stepped into a game far more dangerous than he’d ever played. And with the Dominion on their trail, the stakes were only getting higher.