Admiral Apr 2026

The Invictus didn't just move; it screamed across the vacuum, a streak of white fire. They tore through the Kaelian line before the enemy could even rotate their turrets.

As the Invictus drifted toward the searing corona of the nearby star, the crew held their breath. The ship groaned, metal expanding in the intense heat. On the scanners, the Kaelian fleet moved to intercept their projected dive path, leaving their rear exposed. admiral

By the time the heat alarms stopped blaring, they were in the clear, the vast expanse of open space ahead of them. Elias finally sat back in his command chair, his hands—for the first time in hours—slightly shaking. The Invictus didn't just move; it screamed across

"Admiral," Vane said, looking at the sensor readouts in disbelief. "We’re through. How did you know the tide would hold?" The ship groaned, metal expanding in the intense heat

"No," Elias chuckled, adjusting his cap. "It's because I'm the only one crazy enough to treat a starship like a sailboat. We aren't diving. We’re going to catch the solar tide." "Sir, the heat shields—"

The sea didn't care for titles, but Elias Thorne cared for the sea. At sixty-four, with a face like a topographic map of the Atlantic, he was the youngest man ever to be named , and the oldest to still insist on taking the helm during a gale.