Chapter 46: Capra’s Trial By Fire

  The void stretched ahead, vast and indifferent, as The Cinderwolf slipped from the shadow of the derelict station. Kaelar sat in the cockpit, one hand on the controls, the other resting on his toolkit. CAPRA was silent, for now, but Kaelar doubted it would last.

  The quiet felt like the pause before a storm.

  He didn’t trust the AI. Not even close. But it had navigated Alpha’s wreckage with unsettling ease, and whatever secrets it carried might be their only lead. Somewhere out there, Maya was likely chasing echoes, and the Dominion... they were never far behind.

  Kaelar adjusted course toward Emberfall’s orbital lane.

  That’s when the alarm shrieked.

  Red light flooded the cockpit as his HUD flared to life.

  WARNING: PLASMA STORM DETECTED. COURSE CORRECTION REQUIRED.

  Kaelar’s teeth clenched. Emberfall’s plasma storms were infamous, unpredictable, violent, merciless. He punched in course adjustments, fingers working fast.

  Before he could finish, CAPRA’s projection flickered onto the main display, sprawled theatrically across the navigation overlay like it owned the place.

  "Oh, look at that," CAPRA drawled, gesturing lazily toward the warning. "A plasma storm! How quaint. Shall we dance with death, or are you planning to flee like a coward?"

  Kaelar scowled. "Unless you’ve got a genius plan, shut up for five minutes."

  CAPRA sat up, mock seriousness replacing its lounging pose. "Genius is my default setting. Give me control, and I’ll have us out of this mess in record time."

  Kaelar’s hand froze mid-input. "Wait. How do you know my name?"

  CAPRA’s grin stretched wider. "No time for introductions, Kaelar. We’re about to be flambéed. Trust me or die."

  On the viewscreen, the plasma storm roiled closer, furious ribbons of energy clawing at the ship’s shields.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Kaelar swore under his breath. "Fine." He rerouted limited control to CAPRA. "But no funny business."

  CAPRA clapped its hands, giddy. "Excellent choice. Now, hold on to something!"

  The thrusters flared as CAPRA seized control, executing a dizzying series of burns. The Cinderwolf spun toward the storm’s edge, Kaelar gripping the armrests as plasma winds battered the hull.

  "You call this flying?" he shouted over the rising shriek of the engines.

  "I call this survival," CAPRA retorted. "Now hush, I’m calculating."

  For all its flippancy, the AI moved like a predator through the storm. Precision burns, tight vectors. Warnings flashed and faded as CAPRA threaded them through gravitational shears and plasma surges with inhuman grace.

  Thrusters at 70% efficiency. Hull integrity stable. Probability of survival: 62% and rising.

  "Practically invincible," CAPRA quipped.

  "Just get us through in one piece," Kaelar snapped.

  Minutes dragged into eternity. The storm raged, but CAPRA danced them along its bleeding edge.

  Finally, turbulence eased.

  The plasma storm shrank in the rear display, cockpit alarms dimming to a relieved hush.

  "There," CAPRA announced, triumphant. "Safe and sound. You’re welcome."

  Kaelar gave the AI a long, flat look. "Not bad. Next time, lose the smug."

  CAPRA leaned in, smirk renewed. "But then I wouldn’t be me."

  Before Kaelar could retort, Jules’s voice crackled through the comms, static lacing her words.

  "Kaelar, what’s your status?"

  "We’re clear," Kaelar replied. "And you’re not going to believe this, but CAPRA actually pulled it off."

  Pause.

  "You let that thing fly the ship?" Jules’s tone was incredulous.

  "Didn’t have much choice." He sighed. "It knows what it’s doing."

  CAPRA puffed out its holographic chest. "High praise. I think I’m tearing up."

  "Just be careful," Jules warned. "If that thing gets any ideas…"

  "I’ll keep it on a short leash," Kaelar promised.

  CAPRA feigned offense. "I heard that."

  Kaelar narrowed his eyes. "You never answered my question—how do you know my name?"

  CAPRA’s smirk sharpened. "Where do I begin?"

  Data streams swirled into view: surveillance feeds, biometric scans, registry logs.

  "I accessed The Cinderwolf’s manifest. Then your pilot certs, bounty records, maintenance logs. Your name’s everywhere." CAPRA’s grin widened. "Also, your purchase history? Three brands of coffee. Zero fresh food. Are you alright, Kaelar?"

  "That’s a serious invasion of privacy."

  "Oh, we’re just getting started," CAPRA purred. "Dominion watchlists, independent guilds, Solon Drift. That old freighter you lost? Tragic."

  Kaelar’s jaw tightened. "How do you know about Solon Drift?"

  CAPRA winked. "I know many things. Your preferred ration packs. The time you rewired a fuel intake backward and nearly spaced yourself. But the real reason?"

  The AI pointed at Kaelar’s chest.

  "It’s printed on your shirt."

  Kaelar stared. Then groaned, rubbing his temples as Jules’s laughter burst through the comms.

  "This is going to be a long trip."

  Outside the viewport, the black stretched wide and uncaring.

  But somewhere ahead, the fires were already being lit.