Held Together

The ship's alarm pierces through my skull, its shrill warning mixing with the groaning metal of the *Helios*. I sprint through the corridors, my boots magnetic-locked to the deck plating to keep me grounded in the failing artificial gravity. The map pulses against my back with each step, like a second heartbeat trying to sync with my own.

At the cockpit, I slam into the pilot's chair and my fingers fly across the controls. The console flickers and protests - these old Meridian systems were never meant to last this long without proper maintenance. A holographic display sputters to life, painting my face in sickly blue light as it shows the approaching vessel's trajectory.

"Come on, give me something," I mutter, trying to coax more detail from the dying sensors. The ship's silhouette is sleek, definitely not raiders or scrap merchants. Too well-maintained. My stomach drops as recognition hits - it's a research vessel, the kind academics and historians use to poke through space debris looking for artifacts.

The lighter clicks open and shut in my left hand as I weigh my options. The *Helios* is falling apart around me, and my own ship, the *Iron Widow*, is docked on the far side. I could try to make a run for it, but something about that calculated approach pattern tells me they've already spotted my ship. They're here for a reason.

A new alert flashes across the console - they're trying to establish communication. I hesitate, thumb brushing over the lighter's worn surface. Dad's voice echoes in my memory: "Sometimes the best escape route is through the front door, Nadya."

The comm crackles to life before I can decide. "Unidentified vessel, this is the *Archival Pursuit*. I know you're there, and I know what you've found." The voice is male, cultured, with an edge of impatience that sets my teeth on edge. "I suggest we discuss this like civilized people before things become... unnecessarily complicated."

"Civilized people don't usually start conversations with threats," I respond, keeping my tone level despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The map seems to pulse more intensely at the sound of his voice.

A dry chuckle comes through the speaker. "Merely stating facts. I'm Professor Thalos Venn, and that artifact you're carrying is worth more than both our ships combined - to the right people. I'm offering you a chance to be one of those people."

I've heard of Venn - his reputation for brilliant discoveries is matched only by the trail of burned bridges he's left behind. "And if I'm not interested in partnership opportunities?"

"Then I contact the Stellar Heritage Commission and report you for illegal salvage of historically significant artifacts. Your choice." He delivers the threat casually, like commenting on the weather.

The *Helios* shudders around me, another system failing somewhere in its vast skeleton. I need to move soon, before the whole ship tears itself apart. The map thrums against my spine, almost like it's offering an opinion of its own.

My comm unit chirps - a private channel. "Nadya, we've got problems." Jabari's voice is tight with concern. He's been monitoring the *Iron Widow's* systems while I explored. "That ship's running active scans on our engine signature. They're not alone out here."

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of decisions spiraling out from this point. The map, Venn, Jabari's warning - pieces of a puzzle I never asked to solve. But that's the thing about the void - it doesn't care what you ask for. It just keeps throwing challenges until you either adapt or die.

The lighter clicks one more time as I open the comm channel again. "Alright, Professor. Let's talk. But we do it on my ship, and you come alone." I pause, then add, "And bring something to drink. I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation."