Page 58 of Salvaged By the Alien Pirate

But Cirdox is already moving, his wings spread wide with lethal grace as he takes command of the deteriorating situation.The betrayal of a Brotherhood captain demands a response only he can give—and the fury burning through our bond promises it will be devastating.

The proximity alarms shriek to life, a deafening cacophony that drowns out my words. Multiple Eclipse warships materialize from hyperspace, their weapons already charged, their targeting systems locked onto the Void Reaver. Cirdox’s tribal markings blaze with barely contained fury, his wings snapping wide as a feral snarl escapes his throat. His claws leave deep gouges in the command console as he assesses the threat, every line of his powerful body radiating lethal intent. The crew flinches at his display of raw aggression, but I recognize it for what it is—the rage of a predator watching enemies threaten what’s his.

“They dare,” he growls, his voice carrying centuries of predatory menace. “They dare threaten my ship, my crew, my mate.” His wings cast crimson shadows as his markings pulse brighter. “They’ll learn why Kyvernians are feared across the void. Open a channel to K’vex,” he commands with barely contained fury. “Now.”

When her hologram materializes, his wings snap wide with aggressive dominance. “You betrayed us,” he snarls, baring elongated fangs. “The Brotherhood trusted you, protected you, and you sold us to the Eclipse.”

K’vex’s hologram flickers into existence, her six hands moving in a triumphant dance, her mandibles clicking with a satisfaction that makes my skin crawl. “I warned the Eclipse she’d be a problem, Neon Valkyrie,” she sneers. “Her reputation for disrupting carefully laid plans. But even the best hacker can’t fight when her systems are turned against her.”

My fingers dance desperately across the tactical controls, a futile attempt to regain control. But the sabotage runs deeper than I feared—far deeper than should have been possible. I hadchecked these systems personally, spending countless nights poring over every line of code, every security protocol. Had tested and retested each firewall, each encryption layer. I was so certain I’d created an impenetrable defense.

Yet now each command line I enter twists and corrupts, my own code turning treacherous under my hands. The neural implants that usually amplify my abilities sputter and spark, sending jolts of pain through my skull as they try to interface with compromised systems. How did I miss this? What subtle backdoor did Kira exploit while I was distracted by other threats?

The realization hits like a physical blow—I was so focused on external attacks, on protecting against obvious intrusions, that I overlooked the possibility of someone already having deep access. Someone who could plant dormant code, hiding it within legitimate Brotherhood protocols. Someone who knew exactly how I would try to defend against conventional hacking attempts.

My mind races through recent system logs, searching for any hint I should have caught. Those minor glitches in the navigation array last week. The split-second delays in tactical displays that I dismissed as routine lag. Even the way certain encryption patterns seemed almost too perfect, too clean. All signs I ignored, too confident in my own abilities to consider that the threat was already inside our defenses, waiting to strike.

“The Brotherhood trusted you,” Cirdox snarls, his voice a low growl that vibrates through the ship, his wings mantling with a fury that makes the air crackle with energy. Through our bond, I feel his protective instincts warring with his duty as captain, a conflict that tears at me even as I fight my own battle.

“The Brotherhood is obsolete,” K’vex replies, her voice dripping with disdain. “The Eclipse offers order, control. They understand that some must be sacrificed for the greater good.”Her compound eyes fix on me, cold and calculating. “Starting with your mate.”

The ship rocks violently as the first volley slams into our shields. Warning klaxons blare, a discordant symphony of impending doom, as multiple systems report critical failures. Our defenses, crippled by K’vex’s treachery, crumble under the Eclipse onslaught. The Void Reaver shudders beneath my feet, her proud spirit wounded by this betrayal from within as much as the enemy fire from without.

“Zara!” Cirdox barks, his voice a command that cuts through the chaos. “Get us clear of their firing solution!”

But even as his first officer executes a desperate evasive maneuver, I see more Eclipse ships emerging from hyperspace, boxing us in with a tactical precision that speaks of intimate knowledge of our capabilities. They knew exactly where to hit us, exactly how to neutralize our advantages. My screens fill with cascading failure warnings, a digital death spiral.

The tactical screens suddenly flicker and die, only to reignite with a nightmarish display—every Brotherhood vessel’s position laid bare in perfect, clinical detail. Red targeting vectors spider across the projection, each line connecting to a waiting Eclipse warship. It’s not just tactical data—it’s an execution map, showing exactly how they plan to systematically destroy each ship.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” K’vex’s voice carries an almost reverent tone as the crew watches in horror. “Every formation, every fallback position, every emergency protocol—all precisely calculated for maximum effect.”

The display shifts, showing thermal readings of crew locations aboard each vessel. Hundreds of life signs pulse like dying stars, completely unaware they’re being hunted. Combat veterans like Zara and Grig turn ashen as they recognize the implications—this isn’t just an ambush, it’s an extinction event.

“Watch closely,” K’vex commands as the first targeting solutions lock into place. “The Eclipse wants you to understand exactly how thoroughly you’ve been betrayed.”

The screens erupt in a synchronized dance of destruction as two Brotherhood ships explode simultaneously, their crews never even having a chance to react. The precision of it is terrifying—each blast carefully calculated to cripple rather than destroy, ensuring maximum casualties while preserving valuable resources for salvage.

Through our bond, I feel Cirdox’s rage building like a storm as he watches his people die, betrayed by one of their own. His tribal markings pulse with fury bright enough to cast crimson shadows across the bridge. But beneath the anger, there’s something worse—the dawning realization that every strategy, every contingency he’d planned, had been engineered to fail from the start.

“You won’t win,” I tell K’vex, my fingers flying across the corrupted interface as warnings flash across my screens. “The Eclipse can’t control everything.”

“Can’t we?” Her mandibles click in amusement, a sound that grates on my nerves. “Your neural implants are quite sophisticated, Neon. Imagine what secrets we’ll extract once we’ve properly analyzed them—and you.”

My hands still for a fraction of a second before resuming their desperate dance across the controls. Each command line I enter twists and corrupts, my own code turning treacherous under my fingers. The neural implants that usually amplify my abilities sputter and spark, sending jolts of pain through my skull as they try to interface with compromised systems.

“Zara!” Cirdox shouts over the blaring alarms. “Primary defense grid is failing. Switch to auxiliary controls!”

“Already on it,” she calls back, her russet fur bristling as she works. “But we’re losing systems faster than I can reroute power.”

The ship rocks violently as another volley strikes home. Through the viewport, I catch glimpses of Brotherhood ships trying to rally, to form some kind of defensive screen around us. But their formations are in shambles, their coordinated movements dissolving into chaos as compromised communications leave them blind and vulnerable.

“Tactical systems at thirty percent,” Grig reports, his usually calm voice tight with tension. “Enemy vessels closing from all vectors.”

My screens fill with cascading failure warnings as more Brotherhood ships fall into disarray. The Eclipse knows exactly where to hit us, exactly how to neutralize our advantages. I slam my fist against the console in frustration as another command sequence fails.

“Having trouble?” K’vex’s hologram asks, all six hands moving in mocking patterns. “Such a shame when sophisticated systems turn against their users, isn’t it?”

I bare my teeth in a fierce grin, though my heart pounds against my ribs. “Keep talking. Every transmission gives me another chance to crack your encryption.”

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