Page 39 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

“We’ve been running on luck since the arena,” Takkian muttered. “What’s a little more?”

NINETEEN

Takkian

Takkian clenched his jaw as he observed the console and the intricate display of thefoldmechanism. His eyes narrowed as he summed up the calculations and watched Bruil maneuver the controls. The ship grew louder around them, vibrating through the cabin with an unsettling intensity.

“How long will this take?” Takkian’s gaze was fixed on the display. He glanced at Bruil, who, though grimly determined, had taut lines of tension etching his features.

Bruil grunted. His fingers entered a swift sequence on the console. “A few moments—if all goes as it should. Thefoldingprocess is nearly instantaneous, but prep and recovery are critical. It’ll feel like the world’s gone sideways, though. Prepare yourselves.”

Takkian clenched his hands, his knuckles turning white from the grip. He turned to look at Sevas, who was already fastened in one of the seats in the main cabin. Her eyes were tight with nervous anticipation. “Are you ready?”

Sevas nodded resolutely. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Takkian offered a slight, reassuring smile and attempted to relax the knot in his stomach. The fear of the unknown threatened to rattle his composure. This was utterly new to him, but the resolve in Sevas’ expression soothed him. He fastened himself into the seat beside her.

Bruil turned back and looked at them. There was a subtle quirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was an unusual expression of optimism from the typically gruff Zaruxian. “Brace yourselves,” he instructed. “This is it.”

With a final, decisive stroke across the console, Bruil initiated thefold. The ship’s lights dimmed. The thrusters went silent. The hum turned to a roar that rippled through the metal walls. It felt as if the very fabric of space itself was being pulled apart.

The view through the front viewport wasn’t good for those sitting in the main cabin, but he could see enough. Space outside twisted into a kaleidoscope of fractals and streaks of light. Colors he couldn’t even name danced and bent as though the galaxy itself had liquefied, spilling into impossible patterns. His stomach dropped, and for a fleeting moment, he felt disoriented and untethered, like the ship and everything in it had been shaken loose from reality.

Sevas gripped her armrests. Her knuckles turned white, but she didn’t make a sound. Takkian reached over and rested a hand on hers, giving it a firm squeeze.

Her red eyes snapped to his. “This is normal, right?” she asked, her voice louder than usual to carry over the deafening hum.

“I sure asfekhope so,” Takkian replied, his voice as steady as he could make it. The ship jolted hard, and his claws instinctively extended, gripping the seat for balance.

“You feel that?” Bruil shouted back over the noise. “That’s the ship ripping a hole in space-time. Means it’s working.”

“Comforting,” Takkian muttered under his breath. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn’t pain, but it wasn’t pleasant either. His body felt stretched in a thousand directions at once, not too unlike the way it felt changing into his dragon form.

Sevas inhaled sharply as the ship lurched forward, then backward, then…nothing. Dead silence replaced the chaos. The kaleidoscope of light outside snapped into stillness. Stars dotted the inky black of space once again, perfectly serene, as if the universe had decided to pretend nothing had happened.

Bruil exhaled loudly, leaned back, and swiped a hand over his face. “Foldcomplete. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.” He turned in his chair to face them. “Looks like I’m still a decent pilot.”

“We’ll congratulate you later,” Takkian said, his eyes scanning the viewport for any signs of trouble. “Are the systems stable?”

Bruil looked back at the console. “Thrusters and shields have minimal power while the cells recharge, as expected. Basic functions are fine. Looks like we’re good for now.”

Takkian unfastened his harness and floated to the front of the ship, shaking off the lingering unease from thefold. The cabin lights returned to their normal soft glow. He glanced at the forward viewport. His gaze landed on a structure that stood out against the black void.

“That it?” he asked, nodding toward the unique outline.

Bruil leaned forward, adjusting the controls to zoom the display. What they were looking at resolved into a complex of interconnected structures and platforms. It was messy—patchwork plating, mismatched colors, and a web of docking bays that seemed held together by sheer will. Lights blinked sporadically along its perimeter.

“That’s the outpost,” Bruil confirmed. His voice carried a hint of relief. “Messy, but functional. Typical for a neutral zone.”

Sevas unclipped her harness and moved to hover near Takkian. “It’s not much, but it’s our next step,” she murmured.

Takkian placed a hand on her lower back, feeling the familiar curve of her spine. “We’ll get answers there,” he said, though the gnawing unease of the ship’s still-recharging systems lingered in his gut. “Bruil, any sign of Axis patrols?”

Bruil glanced at his readouts. “Nothing on standard scans,” he said. “Outposts like this probably have some shielding to keep them off their radar. There’s no way to know, exactly.”

Takkian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Let’s hope for the best. Open a channel to their control station.”

Bruil nodded and sent a transmission. A crackle of static filled the cabin before a metallic-sounding voice came through. “Unidentified vessel, you are approaching the neutral outpost Nebla-5. State your purpose and submit your docking request.”

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