CHAPTER 3- ALYA

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        From her co-pilot's seat on the flight deck, Alya stared out at the boundless expanse ahead of her; the reddish-blue galaxy pressing close to glass sight panel. Mystifying and scary, outer space had always enthralled her—stories, stars and nebulas—secrets hidden in the depths of dark blue.

        She used to lay awake in her bed, staring out her penthouse window, dreaming with her eyes open of exploring the mystery beyond Arsania's multihued sky. That was before the academy, when Alya and her father...

        Her father. How long it had been since she saw him last time? How long since she had set foot on her home planet? The thought alone made her throat constrict.

        A sudden beeping on the Crew Alerting Monitor grounded her back to the ship—to reality. Ignoring the pang in her chest, she narrowed her eyes at the holographic command screen. The signal fluctuated in a discreet pattern, too hard to discern.

        "Cap," Alya called out, her voice rising in alarm, her fingers already working to tune the frequency. Static cleared into sounds of grunts, heavy breathing, pounding, and then cheering. "Guess our surprise visit just ruined their fun."

        Zion strode across the bridge and leaned over the display panel. "When the cat is away, the mice will play. Well, the cats are back now." His face was solemn, but the sarcasm was clear. "I hate always being right," he said with a prolonged sigh.

        Alya rolled her eyes. "You and your weird Earth terms."

        Unlike her, Zion was born and raised on Earth, before he joined the Interstellar Military Academy at eleven years of age. He had climbed through to succession quickly, becoming the Academy's golden boy.

        Alya knew him before her Academy days. He was a senior when Alya first joined the Academy, and several years later, the young war hero had come back as her mentor. Zion had always inspired her, guided throughout her journey from a cadet to becoming a Hawk, shaped her future and helped her become what she was today.

        Zion looked like he would say his usual, 'Yeah, that's where your ancestors came from', but gave a second thought to it and turned to Kizer. "Lower the ship, Kaz. We're going take a closer look."

        Zion had already told the team about Mallowmont—a prison for the most dangerous criminals across the galaxy, that the Federation didn't want to deal with—thieves, traitors, space pirates, and colonial rebels. An artificial spacecraft so extremely secured that its existence was kept hidden even from most federal officials. Only known to a few dignitaries, like Zion, and, somehow, Kizer. Otherwise he would never been able to locate the floating prison.

        Built soon after the colonial wars, Mallowmont gained a reputation as a horrid hell. The stories of brutality Alya had heard on her way there made her stomach churn. And what if Zion's assumption were right, if the prison's legitimate status was only a front to whatever illicit things going on inside?

        As the Kerostasia sailed low over Mallowmont, Alya got a clear view of the gargantuan metal structure adrift in mid space. Two giant flood lights illuminated its flat deck in a shape that reminded her of a turtle. Alya's fingers quickly skimmed over the display monitor, zooming in. Well, it wasn't a flat deck after all, but a stadium-like architecture, with a central arena and rows of galleries. Just like Nyx had described.

            The starfleet circled Mallowmont before the hanger door to its docking bay finally opened. Just as the ship angled forty-five degree, preparing to soar inside, an elliptical ship flew out.  All Alya could see was its electric blue exterior before the ship disappeared from their line of sight.

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