The bridge's holographic displays flickered, then steadied, casting eerie blue light across the tense faces of the Nightingale's crew. The unknown transmission filled the room, static dissolving to reveal a jagged, pixelated visage—a figure cloaked in shadow, features masked by heavy encryption.
"This is Captain Riven Dresk of the Orion Reavers," the figure announced, voice rasping and cold as space vacuum. "You carry something that belongs to us. Return it, or prepare to pay a steep price."
Commander Jaxon Cole's grip tightened on the console rail. His steel-gray eyes sharpened, burning with controlled fury. "Identify yourself fully. This is UEGS Nightingale. State your intentions, or you will be marked hostile."
Riven's voice dripped with amused menace. "I am the nightmare in the dark void, the signal you cannot silence. We will be watching."
The feed cut suddenly, throwing the bridge into a cold silence that was louder than any alarm.
"The Orion Reavers," Sergeant Milo Crane muttered, voice low and grim. "Pirates known across the Outer Rim for ruthless tactics and… darker dealings. But this message feels different—like a warning wrapped in a threat."
Corporal Izzy Tran was already pulling up sensor analytics. "Commander, I'm seeing unauthorized access deep in the cargo bay. Something—or someone—has breached security protocols and taken a shipment."
Jaxon's mind tore through possibilities. What could the Reavers want from the Nightingale now? And why so aggressively?
His gaze flicked to Lieutenant Carl Bennett, standing at attention nearby, the beta officer he'd come to rely on in moments like this. Bennett's eyes were sharp, but behind them lay the weight of fresh responsibility.
Suddenly, alarms shattered the uneasy quiet. "Intruders detected in Deck B," Basilisk announced coldly.
"To arms!" Jaxon ordered, voice booming with authority. "Seal all access points except command and engineering. Bennett, secure the crew quarters and medical bay. Milo, assemble intercept teams Alpha and Bravo—prepare to engage. Izzy, keep the sensors hot and feed me everything."
The practiced precision of the crew was a small comfort among the storm of rising dread. Jaxon's mind was racing a thousand steps ahead, calculating probabilities and outcomes.
"They aren't just pirates this time," Bennett said quietly, joining Jaxon at the viewport. "This feels personal."
Jaxon nodded grimly. "Every war has its ghosts. The Nightingale is about to meet hers."
Down the dimly lit corridors, echoes of heavy boots and whispered commands filled the air. The Nightingale was bracing for a battle it hadn't fully anticipated.
As Jaxon adjusted his weapon belt and checked comms, a shiver ran down his spine. Behind the electronic clamour and tactical orders was a silent message—the signal that began it all was more than just interference. It was a summons.
The war had arrived.