The deck gave a sharp tremble as the eddies of the underspace corridor grazed against the small ship’s thin shield membrane. Somewhere in the shadows of Daedalus’s bridge, a metallic bolt shuddered against its housing, emitting a sharp but cutting chatter that quivered in sync with Captain Mellasitox’s nerves.

“We are approximately ninety seconds from the planned point of exit,” Bale announced to the collective staff as the ship twitched underfoot once again. “Structural integrity is holding, but it is getting very bumpy.”

“Maksha, how confident are you this will bring us to K-74?” Mellasitox could feel the tension on the small bridge, strings of compressed energy coiled up like springs within each crew member.

“Fairly,” Maksha replied with his signature calmness. But a nervous twitch at the base of his ear betrayed him, a tell Mellasitox had learnt early on in his assignment.

The deck quaked again, harder this time, more desperate, as the subspace eddies increased in density in their path.

“On a scale of one to ten?” Mellasitox clutched her toes into the deck, hopeful that they could cling on through the thick soles and keep her upright in her seat.

“I am not comfortable assigning a numerical value to-”

“One. To. Ten.” Mellasitox intoned as another eddie impacted the ship and twisted another bolt loose enough to start a duet of tinny staccato beats.

“It is not a scale that is sufficiently-”

The banging of an invisible speedbump against the hull interrupted the science officer as the ship rocked violently to one side, throwing everyone into the nearest solid object with unexpected force.

In an unknown corner of the bridge, two more bolts began composing a quartet of harsh staccato sounds as the quaking increased.

“Structural integrity is down to fifty-eight percent,” Bale announced from ops.

“Maksha!” Mellasitox ordered with a sharp tone that caught even her by surprise.

“Four!”

All eyes swung across the bridge towards the slender form of the ship’s science officer whilst an audible gasp slipped from a junior officer’s lips to the rear.

“Four out of ten is less than fifty percent!” Sehgali shouted over the growing din of deck plates gnashing their teeth against one another.

“We are thirty seconds out,” the helmsman announced as they clutched the top of the console, all avenues for stabilising the ship now beyond their control.

“I was much more confident when we set out.” Maksha waved his hands defensively. “It’s not like we’re using a map.”

The deck shook violently once again, toppling the loose stools at the rear of the bridge with a crash that barely registered above the whining of the hull members that now screeched a soprano note across the ship. At the far tips of Daedalus’ primary hull, duranium hull plates began twisting and contorting as the unrelenting power of underspace began to squeeze against the ship’s small form.

“Structural integrity is down to forty-five percent. I’m seeing hull torsion in the extremities and the nacelle struts.” Bale cried above the din.

“Keep us together, Eddie.” Sehgali leapt from her station and effortlessly hurdled the small bannister to the operations console. “Routing auxiliary power to structural integrity.”

“Fifteen seconds!” a voice announced from somewhere in the small room, all identifying traits disappearing between the desperate cacophony of noises as Daedalus’s molecules clung to one another.

In the shuttle bay, a craft broke free of its magnetic moorings and began sliding across the deck, its slender nose becoming a gigantic bullet as it was propelled across the narrow bay towards the heavy exterior doors. On any other day, its impact might have echoed through the ship; today, it was a quiet piano amongst the violent orchestra.

“I am beginning shield resonance sequence to form the aperture,” Encore shouted through the din, their slender tail whipping back and forth to steady their hairless feline form.

On deck three, a bulkhead cracked in the secondary deflector control room as the pressure of the ship’s twisting frame became too much for the metal. A fountain of sparks erupted into the room like a roman candle as yellow shouldered crewman scrabbled to reach the console where they had stood seconds earlier.

Unwitnessed, the circular beacon set into the forward hull dimmed its omnipresent blue glow as Daedalus closed one great eye in fear.

“Exit portal forming, bearing three-two-five.” Maksha cried, a slip of fear hanging at his normally stoic tone.

In the ship’s heart, the small purple crystal nestled in the centre of the warp core cracked.

“Engaging full impulse.”

And then there was silence. Terrifying, overwhelming, suffocating silence.

Daedalus groaned, a deep and desperate keening that echoed across airless space.

Several kilometres away, K-74 wailed back as one of its boom arms wrenched free.