Kalipuk's head whipped around, his large eyes wide. "We haven't calculated a safe trajectory—"
"I don't care. Jump us out of here before they tear us apart."
"It could put us anywhere. Far from Calpa. Far from any Alliance outpost."
"Better lost than dead. Do it."
"Seats. Now. Strap in." Kalipuk bellowed.
Cullen and I scrambled back from the cockpit, our boots sliding on the deck as the ship lurched again. Another explosion bloomed against our shields, close enough that I could feel the heat through the hull plating.
"Move!" Cullen grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the nearest crash seats as the ship pitched violently to starboard.
I threw myself into the seat, my fingers fumbling with the harness straps. The five-point restraint system was designed for Andorian physiology—broader shoulders, different torso proportions—and I struggled to adjust it. Cullen dropped into the seat beside me, his hands already working his own straps with practiced efficiency.
"Here," he said, reaching over to help me with the chest strap. His fingers brushed mine as he clicked it into place, then tightened the shoulder restraints. "Pull it tighter—this is going to get rough."
I yanked the straps until they bit into my shoulders, then did the same with the lap belt. My heart hammered against my ribs. I'd done hyperjumps before, but never blind, never without proper calculations. The risks were—
Another impact. The ship screamed.
"Strapped in?" Kalipuk called back, not taking his eyes from the controls.
"Yes," I answered, gripping the armrests.
Cullen's hand found mine between our seats, his fingers lacing through mine and squeezing once. I squeezed back, grateful for the anchor.
"Hold on," Kalipuk said.
He turned back to the controls, his fingers dancing across the navigation array. "Coordinates locked. Jumping in three... two... one—"
The universetwisted.
Reality bent around us, colors bleeding into one another, time stretching and compressing simultaneously. My stomach lurched. My vision blurred. But it was more than that—the temperature plummeted, then spiked, then dropped again, my skin alternating between burning and freezing in the span of a heartbeat. Sound became elastic, stretching into a low groan that vibrated through my bones, then snapping into a high-pitched whine that made my teeth ache. I felt my body trying to exist in multiple places at once, pulled in directions that had no names, no coordinates. For a moment that felt like an eternity and an instant all at once, we existed nowhere and everywhere, suspended in the space between spaces where physics forgot its own rules.
Then we snapped back into normal space with a violence that threw me against the bulkhead. Cullen caught me, his arms steadying me as the ship groaned and shuddered around us. Alarms screamed. The lights flickered and died, replaced by the dim red glow of emergency lighting.
"Status," I gasped, pulling away from Cullen, pulling of the safety harness and moving to the cockpit.
Kalipuk's hands moved across the controls, his expression grim. "We're at the edge of Alliance space. Barely inside the border. The jump damaged the hyperdrive—we won't be making another one. And..." He paused, checking readouts. "Life support is hemorrhaging. We've got maybe six hours of breathable air, less if we can't patch the leaks."
"Can we repair it?"
"Not without landing. We need parts, tools, time." He brought up a scan of the surrounding space. "There's a planet nearby. Class M, breathable atmosphere, water. It's... uncharted, I think. Or at least not in the main databases."
I leaned over his shoulder, studying the scan. The planet hung in the viewport ahead of us, a jewel of blue and green against the black. It reminded me of Earth, but smaller, more verdant. Dense vegetation covered most of the landmass, and I could see the glint of rivers and lakes.
"Can we make it?" I asked.
"Yes. But it won't be a gentle landing. Not with the damage we've taken."
"What about the distress beacon?"
Kalipuk tried the communications array, his expression darkening. "Negative. The beacon's offline. Whatever hit us in that last barrage took out our long-range communications. We're on our own, Prime."
I straightened, forcing myself to think clearly despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. We were stranded atthe edge of Alliance space, on a damaged ship with failing life support, no way to call for help, and an unknown planet as our only option.
"Prep for emergency landing," I said. "Get us down in one piece, Kalipuk. That's all I ask."
