With the power regulator out of alignment, its erratic behavior triggered a catastrophic feedback loop. In an instant, Den felt a violent zap, an electrical shock rushing through his arms like lightning. Bright blue arcs of energy flickered between his hands as his body convulsed uncontrollably. Every muscle felt like it was engulfed in flames, and his eyes rolled back. The jolt finally released its grip, knocking him backward with a sharp pop. His mag-boots kept him locked to the deck, causing his knees to buckle and his head to slam into the grated metal floor with a loud thud.
“Den?” Shreya screamed, panic flashing in her eyes. In a flurry of motion, she stumbled into action, hastily shoving her arms into the nanosuit. Pushing off the lockers, she propelled herself across the hangar as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She swiftly reached behind her neck and fastened the collar, forcing the suit to self-seal along her spine.
As she hurtled across the deck, she grabbed the edge of the equipment table to whip herself around. With agile grace, she slid underneath Den, scooping him into her arms. Activating her mag-boots, she used her momentum to lift them upright and spun to his side. Shreya’s lips trembled with fear as her terrified blue eyes flicked over Den’s unconscious form, her hands shaking as she patted his cheek, searching for any sign of life. “Come on, Den. Wake up,” she pleaded, her voice ringing with desperation.
Seconds stretched like hours as Shreya waited, fearing the worst while haunting premonitions ravaged her thoughts. Visions of being alone filled her mind, images of her weeping for the loss of her husband, doomed to be heartbroken for eternity. She fervently shook her head to dispel the horrors, when suddenly his body twitched in her arms. Her breath caught in her throat, and her blood ran cold, as Den’s eyelids fluttered. Coaxing life back to his face, she gently caressed his hair as tears of hope welled in her eyes. “Den? Can you hear me? Are you all right?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Shreya?” he muttered, his voice hoarse and laced with disbelief.
“Yes, hon, I’m here.”
“You…” Den trailed off.
“What is it?” she pressed, soothing his brow with her thumb.
He let out a faint, delirious chuckle, “You distracted me.”
Overcome with relief, Shreya squished her cheek against his chest, embracing him in a fierce hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she breathed, squeezing her arms tighter.
“Sorry,” Den wheezed, the words forced from his lungs.
As she pulled back, Shreya’s worried eyes landed on the angry red blisters marring his hands. Overwhelmed with anxiety from the new emergency, she quickly cradled his hands and assessed the damage. “I’ll get something from the first aid kit. Stay right here,” she urged, her mag-boots clanking against the deck as she hurried back to the lockers. Flipping the door open, she rifled through the medical supplies in the first aid kit, checking each label for the correct ointment. Snatching the bandages from the side pouch, she spun around to see Den’s confused expression focused on his hands. “What’s wrong? Did the blisters pop? Are you feeling dizzy?” she asked, her words tumbling out without a breath between them.
Den presented his hands to his wife, his lips struggling to form a smile as he chuckled weakly, slurring his words like a drunkard. “You caught me red-handed.”
Shreya’s pensive expression cracked with an unintentional chuckle and an exaggerated eye roll. “You’re so stupid,” she rebuked, marching back to his side. Gently, she cradled one of his hands and carefully applied the soothing ointment, her fingers ghosting over his skin. “You really should be more careful, hon. These burns could have been so much worse.” Shooting him a warm smile, she teased, “Maybe you should stay focused on your work next time.”
“Maybe,” Den replied with a playful slur, “and I’m just spitballing here, but maybe you shouldn’t perform a striptease while I’m working.”
Her jaw dropped in disbelief, followed by an incredulous scoff. “Striptease?”
“That’s right. The suggestive little dance you were doing by the locker.”
“I wasn’t dancing,” she protested.
“Uh-huh, so what would you call it then?” he coyly challenged.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t a striptease,” she mumbled. Shooting her husband a mischievous side glance, she lowered her voice to mimic his. “Maybe, and I’m just spitballing here, but maybe you should focus on your work instead of ogling me.”
“But I like ogling you,” he admitted with jovial simplicity.
Rolling her eyes, she finished bandaging his hand, her touch gentle but efficient. “Is that better?” she asked, searching his face for reassurance.
With the searing pain diminished, Den flexed his fingers and nodded. “Yes, thank you. That… that worked surprisingly well.” His gaze drifted back to his wife, her caring, sea-blue eyes the only soothing balm he needed. Wrapping one arm around her, he murmured, “You know I love you, right?”
Snuggling into the embrace, Shreya mumbled into his chest, a whispered echo of, “I love you too.”
As Den hugged his wife, he absentmindedly glanced at the hovering tablet flickering behind her. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he watched new data stream across the screen despite the malfunction. As he examined the readings, a frown formed on his brow, his curiosity piqued. “What is happening? Why are the power regulator and the waveform both stuck at 1.6%? And why is the potential maximum range showing 41 light-years? That can’t be right.”
Shreya lifted her head in surprise. “Really?”
“This has to be some sort of error caused by the electrical damage,” he suggested, plucking the tablet from the air.
With a gentle squeeze around his waist, Shreya turned to peer at the screen herself. “We could run a virtual simulation to confirm the results, but let’s do it tomorrow. Right now, you really should go to medical and have them check your injuries.”
Den let out a slow sigh, his gaze shifting to his bandaged hands. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Shreya bluntly stated.
Den released the tablet, a somber expression on his face as the screen floated gently in midair. He turned, walking back to the airlock while Shreya clung to his side for support. Den’s mind puzzled over the information from the tablet, his eyes fixed on the ground as he absentmindedly stroked his goatee. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, an idea striking him. “They are linked variables,” he declared.
Shreya stumbled, careful not to pull him off balance. “What?”
He wriggled free from her grasp and shuffled to the simulation console—a crescent-shaped workstation packed with buttons, knobs, and movable screens. “The feedback must have corrupted the code, linking the power regulator and waveform variables together. I was trying to tune them as separate functions!”
Shreya let out an exasperated groan. “All right, maybe they are linked, but could you please stop that big brain of yours for just one second? We still need to see medical.” As her husband fumbled with the wires attached to the equipment, his bandaged hands making the task frustratingly difficult, she leered on, softly shaking her head. Marching over, she yanked the cables from his grip, her tone firm. “Are you even listening?”
“I’m sorry,” Den replied, sounding distracted as he relinquished control of the wires and shuffled to the other side of the console. “You know I can’t let this go until I find an answer.” His fingers danced over the keyboard, typing a series of commands that brought the screens to life. A wireframe representation of an Athena-class ship appeared on the display as he carefully entered the parameters for a virtual test, using what he learned from the disaster. “Okay, here we go. Running LAT drive tunneling test,” he announced with a final, dramatic tap on the keyboard.
“Why must you be so stubborn?” Shreya grumbled.
“Determined,” Den corrected with a grin, his eyes glued to the screen. “The word you are looking for is determined.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I meant stubborn.”
Den shot her a warm smile. “Whatever, you still love me.”
“I do, but sometimes I just want to…” She paused long enough to make a dramatic strangling gesture. “Will you please go see medical?”
“Okay, okay, but after this test.”
Shreya glided over to his side of the console, her gaze fixed on the numerical data streaming across the primary display. Next to it, a cascade of fluctuating bar graphs danced rhythmically, their colors shifting as the values changed in real time. A moment later, the total projected range appeared in a bright box in the lower corner. It began at a modest one light-year, but with each passing second, it surged upward, escalating rapidly. By the end of the first minute, it had jumped to an impressive eight light-years and was still climbing.
With an affectionate sigh, Shreya leaned her ear against his shoulder, looking up at him through her lashes. “Even if this works, we’re still having a doctor examine your hands,” she insisted. “I refuse to spend the night here tinkering with the prototype just because you had an epiphany.”
Den slowly nodded, his eyes glossing over as he stared at the scrolling information. “Yeah, no overnight doctors, got it.”
Shreya lightly popped him on the stomach with her open hand. “I’m serious,” she said, her voice taking on a no-nonsense edge. “This is movie night, and we’re not working through it like we did the last two times.”
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Forced out of the trance, he met her gaze with a soft smile and gently kissed her forehead. “Yes, dear.”
Together, they turned their attention back to the console, their eyes glued to the screen as the values ticked up. 29 light-years… 30 light-years… 31 light-years. Den fidgeted with the hem of his lab coat as the number edged closer to a breakthrough. When the potential total range paused at 36 light-years, an electric tension filled the air, and they collectively held their breath.
Den’s fingers instinctively reached for Shreya’s hands, tracing her soft knuckles with a gentle touch. Like anticipating the surprise of a jack-in-the-box, his eyes widened, and his heart raced. When the value finally ticked over to 37 light-years, Shreya unexpectedly erupted like a bright firework, pumping her fist into the air, exclaiming, “Yes!”
Startled by the outburst, Den reflexively covered her mouth with his palm. “Whoa, whoa, throttle down, firecracker,” he said in a state of panic. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Shreya peeled his hand away with an indignant look and asserted, “I can be excited if I want to. Why are you not celebrating right now?”
“What?” he asked, feigning confusion.
“I said I can be excited—”
Den touched his ear, leaning in closer as if he couldn’t hear. “Huh?”
“Stop pretending like you’re deaf.”
Den jokingly quipped, “Did you just say, ‘Slap pending—light years, Jeff?’ What does that even mean? And who is Jeff?”
Her gaze darkened as she blurted out, “I said we should get freaky in the ship.”
Den’s attention snapped to the Von Braun sitting in the hangar. “Really?”
Shreya threw her arms up in disbelief. “Figures you would hear that. Typical selective hearing.”
He grinned broadly. “Priority hearing, sweetie. Spending time with you is my top priority.”
“Then why do you keep missing movie night?” she shot back, driving a wedge through his logic.
Den’s bottom lip puffed out, and his shoulders sagged dramatically. “I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted by work and under a lot of pressure to produce results, but that ends tonight.” His expression softened as his fingers glided down her back, squeezing her rear as he leaned closer. “Tonight we celebrate. But first, let me double-check the results real quick.”
Turning his gaze back to the console, he pulled up the final calculations on the monitor. Bright green check marks illuminated the screen, and a flashing message in the corner declared the results complete. Den’s eyes widened in disbelief as he read the projected range of 57 light-years. “Wow,” he breathed, marveling at the outcome. “That’s well above our last test. I would call this a resounding success, wouldn’t you?”
Turning back to share the moment, he hesitated when he noticed Shreya hunched over like a comical assassin sneaking up on her prey. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, drinking in his shy demeanor as she seductively nibbled on her bottom lip. “Um, sweetie?” he whispered nervously, his heart racing for an entirely different reason.
“Yes, dear?” she drawled.
“You um… You have that look again,” Den replied, swallowing hard.
“What look would that be?” she asked innocently as her body shifted, ready to pounce.
“The same look you had on our honeymoon right before you attacked me.”
In an instant, Shreya threw herself into his arms, their bodies colliding as her legs wrapped around his torso. He stumbled backward, caught off guard, as she grabbed his head and slipped her fingers through his hair. Without warning, she pressed her lips against his in a passionate kiss and kneaded his bottom lip like soft dough.
“Okay, okay,” he mumbled, gasping for air through the corner of his mouth. “You win. We’re having a marathon movie night.”
The airlock door slid open with a startling hiss as Prefect Marcus Ovius stepped out from the shadows. The hulking figure ducked slightly to clear the hatch frame as he moved into the light, his mag-boots clicking menacingly against the deck. His piercing gaze focused on the couple in the middle of the hangar, who looked like a pair of dumbstruck deer, wide-eyed and frozen in place, awkwardly cuddling. With a disapproving raised eyebrow and a huff laced with disdain, he took off his military peak cap and tucked it under his arm. With an air of superiority, the Prefect walked confidently across the hangar, dressed in an impeccably tailored white uniform, the medals adorning his chest jingling with each deliberate step.
The couple quickly untangled their embrace and stood awkwardly beside each other. Shreya, instinctively adopting a military posture, snapped a quick salute, her voice ringing out, “Officer on deck.”
Marcus came to a stop before the couple, with his hands folded behind his back and chest puffed out. He slowly scrutinized the pair through narrowed eyes, lingering on Den as a snarl of disgust briefly appeared on his lips. Eventually, his gaze shifted to Shreya, who was still holding her salute. His deep-set eyes swept over her nanosuit, painstakingly taking in every detail before settling on her hair. Snapping off an accusatory finger, he pointed at Shreya’s top knot, his voice dripping with authority. “Those beads are not standard issue. Remove them at once.”
“Yes, Sir!” Shreya replied, projecting her voice while swiftly removing the decorative pearls.
Marcus turned his steely eyes toward Den. “Mr. Nova. Progress report.”
“Um… yes, progress,” Den stammered. “By sheer accident, we discovered that the power regulator and waveform should be linked variables. When we calibrated them to 1.6%, we noticed a significant increase in the projected range. During this last test, we managed to increase the prototype tunneling range to reach 57 light-years. Although I do have a theory. I suspect the closer the variable gets to 0%, the further the drive will—”
Marcus sharply raised his hand, cutting Den off as he stepped past, his eyes fixed on the data scrolling across the screen. “How soon can we be ready for a live test flight?”
“Um… this was only the first successful simulation. We still have to adjust the parameters and run the test under different scenarios. That could take several weeks.”
“Mr. Nova,” Marcus barked, pivoting sharply on the ball of his foot, his imposing figure towering over Den. “You have till the end of the week to get the Von Braun flight ready.”
“A week?” Den echoed, his face scrunching with disbelief.
Marcus brushed his hand over the surface of the prototype, calmly rubbing his thumb and finger together to check for dust. “Correct,” he flatly stated.
Den shook his head, his anxiety increasing. “It will take a week just to reassemble the Von Braun. We won’t have time to run the necessary simulations.”
“I am hearing a lot of excuses and not much progress, Mr. Nova,” Marcus chided, his voice like cold steel. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that the contract you signed heavily depends on success. Even though all your assets are tied up in this project, without my support, you wouldn’t have a Generation Three LAT drive to work on. Moreover, you would lack the proper tools and secure storage facilities. The shipyard and outfitting services alone are costing me 14,800,000 credits each week. So, I’m sure you can understand my desire to see this contract succeed in a timely fashion.”
“Yes, I understand, but—”
“Mr. Nova,” Marcus interrupted again, irritation barely contained in his expression. “This is not a negotiation. You have one week to get the prototype ready. You’re quickly nearing the four-year limit of our contract and need to deliver tangible results. To speed up the process, I’ve decided to have Centurion Shreya Nova step down, and you will take her place as the designated pilot for the test flight.”
“Me?” Den frowned, shooting a worried look at his wife, who was still standing at attention. “But why? She’s the military pilot, I’m just an engineer.”
Marcus’s voice grew deeper, each word deliberate and precise. “It would be more efficient for her to refine your existing flight skills than for you to train her on the intricacies of repairing the prototype, should anything malfunction.”
Den’s forehead furrowed, and his lips pressed together. Stepping into Marcus’s shadow, he tilted his head up to face the towering man. “That’s my wife you’re talking about, and what you’re suggesting is incredibly rude. She helped me build the prototype and knows the drive inside and out. Shreya should be the pilot.”
Marcus held out a hand, effortlessly keeping Den at bay. “One week, Mr. Nova. I suggest you work quickly.”
Shreya clenched her jaw, acutely aware that challenging a superior officer was a boundary she couldn’t cross, no matter how disrespectful the Prefect was. Resting her fingertips on her brow, her expression blank, and her knees pressed tightly together, she endured the heavy weight of injustice, tightening her fingers around the delicate pearls clutched in her other hand. The oppressive air in the room broke when the Prefect finally departed, sidestepping past Den and shooting Shreya a scathing glance.
The two of them remained in tense silence, eyes fixed on the Prefect as he strode toward the airlock, the sharp thuds of his boots echoing against the metal deck. Reaching the control panel, his unusually thick thumb pressed the door switch, and the hatch slid open with a smooth hiss as he adjusted his peak cap over his buzzed haircut. Just as he was about to slip through the hatch, he tossed a malicious comment over his shoulder, freeing Shreya from her rigid military protocol. “At ease, soldier,” he sneered.
The instant the hatch closed behind him, Shreya’s composure shattered. She stormed to the locker, flinging the metal door open with a loud clang. The pearls flew from her hand, clattering in the confines of the top shelf as she slammed the locker shut again with a firm bang.
“What a prick,” Den remarked, turning to Shreya, his eyes softening with concern. “Are you all right?”
Shreya squeezed her eyes shut, muscles taut in her jaw as she mumbled, “I’m fine.”
“Why is he such a hard ass? What did I ever do to him?”
Shreya took a moment, choosing her words carefully. “It’s not you, hon. He… he’s jealous that I married you.”
Den’s expression twisted into a snarl. “Why? Did you reject him when he proposed?”
“No, Den. Fraternization between military ranks is forbidden. Even if he could, that man is a disgusting pig, and I would never.”
“I see. So, you’re not into the big, muscular type and prefer scrawny bean poles?”
Shreya relaxed her jaw, a smile breaking through as she glanced back at her husband. “You’re not scrawny. I find you perfect just the way you are.”
Den flexed, puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. “I don’t even have to work out to look this good.”
She rolled her eyes, a soft snicker escaping her lips. “I love you so much,” she admitted. Her tense posture relaxed with a long, deep breath as she looked over the ship parts cluttering the hangar. “If we only have a week to finish this, we need to hurry.”
“Does that mean we’re skipping movie night?” Den asked.
“Oh hell no! We’re not missing that,” she asserted without a hint of hesitation.
Den began organizing the tools and equipment near the prototype, his voice skeptical as he queried, “I still don’t understand why the Prefect demoted you from being the test pilot. That was the whole point of having your duty station reassigned to this station.”
“Because he’s an asshole,” Shreya bitterly snapped.
Den sputtered his lips. “That’s obvious.”
Suppressing her anger, Shreya offered him a full smile and gently placed a hand on his chest. “We will work on your flight skills tomorrow.”
“I’ll never be as good as you.”
“You will do fine,” she reassured him. “Just remember. You’ll be flying an untested prototype through black-space. You’ll be under radio blackout during the trip, and a split-second decision could be the difference between life and death. So, no pressure.”
He nervously chuckled, “Great, now you jinxed it. Knowing my luck, I’ll end up on the other side of the galaxy.”
“Oh my god,” she exclaimed playfully, “ if you force me to go traipsing all over the galaxy looking for your sorry ass, I swear, you’ll be sleeping on the couch, and movie nights will be canceled for a year.”
“Wow, that seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?” His devilish grin widened. “You know, that punishment would imply you’re abstinent for a year too.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “I only said you wouldn’t be watching movies. I can watch all I want.”
“By yourself?”
“If need be, or perhaps I’ll just call a friend over while you sit in the corner,” she coyly suggested.
“Woe is me,” he lamented dramatically, “how quickly I am replaced.”
Shreya laughed, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Relax, hon. I could never replace you.”
Den offered a lazy salute, his carefree attitude returning. “In that case, I promise nothing bad will happen.”
Leaning in, she kissed him softly on the cheek. “It better not,” she playfully threatened.
Den turned to the simulation console, his cheeks glowing with passion as his fingers entered commands to save the test results. As the status bar flickered across the display, a nagging feeling of jealousy settled in his stomach, and his eyes shifted to Shreya gathering ship parts for installation. “You um… You don’t really have,” Den hesitated, fumbling for the right words. “When you said ‘call a friend over,’ you were talking about a girlfriend, right?”
“Was I?” her tone teasingly ambiguous.
Question for the Comments: The Prefect certainly knows how to ruin a 'movie night.' What was the bigger red flag for you: his dismissal of Shreya’s elite skills, or his bizarre obsession with "non-standard" hair beads?
The Daily Sprint: We are tthe third chapter of our 13-chapter journey! While Den and Shreya are dealing with a nightmare boss, tomorrow we return to Kai and Parri as they prepare to crash the party. I’m updating every single day, so hit Follow to make sure you're here when the two storylines finally collide!
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First impressions of Prefect Marcus Ovius?
