Chapter 1: The Heist

  It was unlike anything else. Some might disagree, pointing out the existence of 3,000 SCM-12 Jump Freighters scattered across the galaxy, each almost identical. Minor differences existed—variations in warp drive calibrations, scratches from countless trade runs—but to me, the Mammut was unique.

  Because I was sitting at her controls.

  I shouldn’t have been here. Security measures should’ve stopped me long before I reached the airlock. There should’ve been dozens of failsafes, guards, and protocols standing between me and this seat. But here I was, defying every “should” that existed.

  You see, I’m Flicker Wick—or Flicker Oliver Wickerson, if you want to get formal about it—and the Mammut wasn’t just another freighter to me. It was freedom. For someone like me, freedom wasn’t just a luxury—it was survival. The galaxy didn’t care about people like me, people with no home, no connections, and no future. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape the Regula Corp. It's hard to do that when they own the entire star sector. The Mammut was my ticket out.

  The first time I heard her name was over a drink with a washed-up crew member. The guy worked with me on the Decomm station as one of the subscripted laborers, like me. He muttered something about the old jump freighter being scheduled for Decomm in just over 4 months. When he mentioned her warp drive, my pulse quickened.

  A prototype from the Resource Wars, the Mammut’s warp drive could outpace anything modern. It was unstable, sure—unpredictable, even—but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t planning to play it safe. The moment I heard her name, I knew: this was my chance.

  Four months is all I had to get ready, I planned. I studied everything I could get my hands on—her schematics, her history, even the flight logs that were available. By the time the Mammut arrived at the station three months ago, I’d already memorized every weakness in her outdated security.

  The weeks following her arrival I worked my way onto the Mammut’s Decomm crew, blending in with everyone else. No one noticed when I scavenged parts or ran “routine diagnostics” on the Mammut’s systems. No, that's not true. Someone did notice or it's more accurate to say something noticed. The station AI Sentinel-7 noticed almost everything.

  The key word being “almost”. If you know the correct sequence of inputs and passwords you can get around it. The subscripted laborers working here have been trying to bypass the security for years and succeeded in some areas. And I knew just how to use it.

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  Slowly, piece by piece, I coaxed her back to life. The station techs,the ones working for Regula willingly, thought they were just prepping her for dismantling. They didn’t realize I was turning her into my escape plan.

  Now, sitting in the captain’s chair, I felt like I was holding the ghost of a legend. The cockpit was dimly lit, its analog dials and reinforced plating a stark contrast to the sleek, sterile interfaces of modern ships. Where today’s freighters were synthetic and algorithm-driven, the Mammut was unapologetically raw—a brute force of engineering. I liked it.

  The ignition panel hummed beneath my fingertips. A soft beep confirmed the main systems were still active. I’d already hacked the maintenance console, bypassing the failsafes. My heart raced as I connected to the core system, the power surging through the ship like a long-forgotten pulse.

  The Mammut groaned, her engines coming to life with a deep, mournful rumble. A grin spread across my face. It was working. Flicker Wick, the supposed nobody, was about to steal a piece of history.

  "Here we go," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rising hum of the engines. My fingers trembled as I disconnected the docking clamps and engaged the auxiliary systems, the Mammut shuddering like a long-dormant beast roused from sleep. The dry dock’s protective barriers slid apart, revealing the endless expanse of space. For the first time in months, the ship moved under her own power—an ancient warhorse defying its fate. I allowed myself a moment to breathe, to believe it was all going to work. That was my mistake.

  The cockpit lights flickered. A sharp beep from the comm system broke through the hum of the engines. My grin froze as a mechanical voice crackled through the speaker.

  “Unauthorized access detected. Initiating lockdown procedures.”

  My stomach dropped. The station’s AI Sentinel-7 had seen me. That wasn’t supposed to happen for another 15 seconds. I’d studied its algorithms and it’s blind spots just like every other subscripted laborer. I was sure I’d slipped under its radar. And yet, here we were.

  The console flared red with warning messages. External locks engaged. Tractor beams primed in the docking bay. The Mammut wasn’t going anywhere unless I did something fast.

  I inhaled sharply, steadying my nerves. This wasn’t the first time things had gone sideways, and if there was one thing I was good at, it was improvising. My fingers flew across the controls, pulling up the security override protocols I’d memorized. The system resisted, fighting me at every turn, but I didn’t let up.

  “Come on, old girl,” I muttered, overriding the system shutdown commands being input by the AI. “Don’t let me down now.”

  The Mammut shuddered as the engines roared to life. I felt the power surging through her, raw and unsteady. The kind of power that could break through Sentinel-7’s grip if I pushed hard enough.

  Outside the viewport, the dry dock’s walls loomed closer as the ship inched forward. The station alarms were blaring now, red lights flashing along the docking bay. The tech crew and guards would be on their way. I'd be out of their reach but not the stations. I had seconds, maybe less to get out of the dry dock.

  I reroute power to the engines, ignoring the warning messages flashing across the dashboard. Mammut groaned in protest, but she held together.

  This was it. Months of planning, risking, and waiting came down to this moment. I wasn’t just stealing a ship—I was stealing a future. My future. One where I wasn’t just another forgotten face in a corporation's drive to be in the black.

  I gripped the controls, feeling the Mammut’s vibrations course through me. “Hold on. We’re almost there.”

  The ship lurched forward, breaking free of the dry dock. Sentinel-7’s voice continued to clamor as the Mammut surged into open space, her engines roaring with a ferocity that sent chills down my spine.

  I was free.

  But I knew the Station wouldn’t let me go that easily.