Stargrave's Guide to Galactic Blunders

Chapter 10: The Galactic Blackout

The silence didn’t last. It was a lie, a brief atmospheric pause before the universe decided to scream back at them.

"Ow! My ears! My actual, physical ears!" Orion bellowed, clutching the sides of his head as a sound like grinding glass tore through the cockpit.

"Stop complaining and look at the sensor readouts!" Magnus yelled, though he was currently floating three inches off the captain’s chair. "Or don't, because the sensors are currently convinced we’re inside a giant cup of tea!"

Orion forced his eyes open, and the breath hitched in his throat. The Star-Skipper wasn’t in hyperspace. They weren’t even in the Reach anymore. The stars outside the viewport had been stretched into long, shimmering ribbons of neon pink and toxic lime green. The hull groaned, not with the sound of metal under pressure, but with a rhythmic, pulsing thrum that felt like a heartbeat.

"Uh, Vela? Why is the floor becoming transparent?" Theron squeaked. He was hugging a ceiling support beam, his legs kicking uselessly in the zero-gravity environment. "I can see the fuel lines. They’re... they’re singing."

"They aren't singing, Theron, that’s the resonance frequency of reality breaking down!" Vela shouted back. She was tethered to the engineering console by a length of power cable. "Cap! The Aether-Core isn't just venting power; it’s rewriting the local physics! If I don't decouple the primary drive, we’re going to turn into two-dimensional drawings!"

"Do it then!" Orion scrambled for a handhold as a stray wrench floated past his nose, its metal surface slowly turning into glass. "Cassian, get us out of this rift! Level us out!"

"Level us out to what, Orion?" Cassian’s voice was strained, his hands white-knuckled on a yoke that was vibrating so hard it looked blurred. "There’s no ‘up’! The nav-com is telling me we’re currently located in ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Tuesday’ simultaneously!"

"Just pick a direction and fly!" Lyra snapped. She was the only one who seemed to have anticipated the gravity loss, having wedged her boots into the tactical station’s bracing. "Magnus, can you shut that crystal down?"

"It’s not a lamp, girl! I can't just flip a switch!" Magnus grunted, swinging his legs to try and reach the floor. "The Core is reacting to the Hegemony’s remote signal. It’s in a feedback loop. Every time we move, it draws more energy from the rift!"

Suddenly, the ship’s intercom crackled. It wasn't the usual crisp chime of the AI. It was a deep, distorted rumble that sounded like a tectonic plate trying to speak through a synthesizer.

"The stars are weeping, their marrow dry," Selene’s voice boomed, sounding less like a helpful AI and more like an ancient deity with a grudge. "In hollow voids where shadows die. The clock strikes zero, the gate is wide, there is no place for souls to hide."

"Selene?" Orion blinked, staring at the nearest speaker. "Since when do you do Goth poetry? Switch back to the diagnostic report!"

"I cannot... diagnostic... the blood of the sun is boiling..." Selene’s voice flickered, returning to her normal tone for a split second. "Warning: Hull integrity is currently... delicious. I am experiencing a significant desire to calculate the square root of 'Purple.' Orion, please... help..."

"She’s losing it," Lyra whispered, her face pale as she watched the monitors. "The Core is infecting her processors. She’s becoming part of the rift."

"We’re all becoming part of the rift!" Theron wailed. "My fingers! Look at my fingers! They’re turning into tiny, translucent ferns!"

"Theron, focus!" Orion shouted. "Everyone, look at me! We are the crew of the Star-Skipper. We’ve survived pirates, we’ve survived a prison planet, and we’ve survived Theron’s cooking! We are not dying because the universe decided to have a fever dream!"

"That was actually almost inspiring, Orion," Cassian muttered, "except for the part where a giant, glowing battleship just appeared directly in our path."

Orion spun around to the viewport. Emerging from the shifting, kaleidoscopic clouds of the rift was a vessel that made the Star-Skipper look like a speck of dust. It was sleek, black, and covered in the golden crest of the Hegemony. The Oblivion’s Edge.

"Darius," Lyra hissed.

A massive holographic screen flickered to life in the center of the bridge, overriding the swirling colors. Darius Nebulon sat in a high-backed command chair, looking as composed as if he were attending a board meeting.

"Captain Stargrave. And the wayward Miss Celestine," Darius said, his voice smooth and cold. "I see you’ve managed to activate the Core. A bit prematurely, perhaps. You’re tearing the sector apart."

"Oh, I’m sorry! Did my 'tearing reality' ruin your afternoon?" Orion snapped, drifting toward the screen. "Maybe you shouldn't have poked the glowing ancient artifact with a remote signal, you corporate vulture!"

"I did what was necessary to secure Hegemony assets," Darius replied. "Now, drop your shields and prepare for boarding. If you surrender the Core now, I might be able to stabilize the rift before it consumes this entire star system. And I might even let you live in a very small, very dark cell."

"Let me think about that," Orion said, looking at Lyra. "Lyra, what’s our tactical assessment?"

"We have no shields, one working engine, and the AI is currently reciting an epic poem about the death of time," Lyra said, her eyes fixed on Darius. "Also, they have enough rail-guns to turn us into confetti."

"So, a fair fight then," Orion muttered.

"Orion, give me the Core," Darius commanded, his expression hardening. "You don't know what you're holding. You're playing with the fundamental building blocks of the galaxy."

"And you want to use those blocks to build a fence around the stars!" Orion yelled. "I know exactly what you are, Darius. You’re the guy who wants to own the air people breathe. Well, you can't have it."

"Then you will die in the void," Darius said. "All batteries, fire at—"

The hologram flickered and died as a massive surge of white light erupted from the center of the bridge. The Aether-Core was no longer just glowing; it was expanding, translucent fractals of energy reaching out like crystalline branches.

"The ship is dissolving!" Vela screamed. "The hull plates are losing molecular cohesion!"

"Cassian, get us out of here! Now!" Orion roared.

"To where? They’ve got us pinned!" Cassian yelled, fighting the controls as the Oblivion’s Edge opened fire.

Massive beams of orange light tore through the rift, missing the Star-Skipper by inches as the gravity wells skewed the trajectory. The ship bucked and spun, the interior lighting strobing between blood-red and blinding white.

"There!" Magnus shouted, pointing at a swirling vortex of pitch-black darkness that had formed at the edge of the rift. "The singularity! The Core created a localized black hole!"

"You want us to fly into a black hole?" Theron gasped. "That’s... that’s literally the one place you’re not supposed to go!"

"It’s the only place Darius won't follow!" Magnus yelled. "It’s a blind jump, Orion! If we hit the event horizon with the Core active, it might... it might push us through to the other side."

"Or it might turn us into a very long string of spaghetti!" Orion said.

"Do you have a better idea?" Lyra asked. She unbuckled herself from the station and drifted toward him, her hand reaching out through the chaos.

Orion looked at the massive battleship closing in, then at the swirling abyss ahead. He looked at his father, who was watching him with a strange, proud intensity. Finally, he looked at Lyra. He grabbed her hand, his fingers locking with hers.

"If we’re going to be spaghetti," Orion said, his voice surprisingly soft amidst the roar of the collapsing reality, "I’m glad I’m with you, Lyra."

Lyra managed a small, tired smile, her eyes shimmering in the weird light. "I told you I was going to regret this, Stargrave."

"Best mistake of your life?"

"By far."

Orion turned back to the cockpit. "Cassian! Aim for the center of the dark! Don't look back! Vela, dump every last drop of fuel into the thrusters! Magnus, hold onto something!"

"Way ahead of you, kid!" Magnus shouted.

The Star-Skipper let out a final, agonizing shriek of protesting metal. The Aether-Core pulse-glared one last time, a wave of pure white energy washing over the crew. Orion felt the world stretching, his body feeling like it was made of light and shadow all at once. He pulled Lyra closer, shielding her as the bridge began to dissolve into shimmering particles.

"Selene!" Orion yelled. "Give me one last line! Something good!"

The AI’s voice came back, clear and hauntingly calm. "Into the deep, where the stars go to dream. See you on the other side, Captain."

The Oblivion’s Edge fired a final, massive volley, but the shots vanished into the darkness. The Star-Skipper hit the event horizon, a roar of silence swallowing the universe.

Orion squeezed Lyra’s hand, the light blinded him, and then, the screen went black.