The air reeked of ozone and rust as Captain Mara Voss stepped onto the derelict hull, her boots crunching over shattered plating. The *Erebus* hung in the void like a skeleton, its skeletal frame lit by the pale glare of a dying star. She hadn’t expected this. Not here. Not after three decades of chasing ghosts through the asteroid belts. But the signal had been real—weak, fractured, but unmistakable. A distress call from a ship that shouldn’t exist.
“You sure this is the right spot?” Lieutenant Jax Rourke’s voice crackled through her helmet, edged with skepticism. His boots thudded against the metal as he joined her, his gloved hand brushing a rusted panel. “This thing’s been dead for a century.”
Mara didn’t answer. She was too busy scanning the hull, her fingers tracing the faded insignia of the *Aurora*, a vessel lost during the Second Exodus. The signal had come from its core, a pulse that shouldn’t have been possible. She activated her scanner, the device humming as it parsed the data. “There’s a cavity inside,” she said, her voice flat. “Something’s still running in there.”
“That’s not possible,” Jax muttered, but he didn’t argue. The *Erebus* had no power, no life-support—just a hollow shell. Yet the signal pulsed again, a low, rhythmic thrum that vibrated through her bones. It wasn’t random. It was deliberate.
They breached the hull with a plasma cutter, the scorch mark glowing like a wound. Inside, the corridors were silent, save for the hiss of escaping air. The lights flickered, casting jagged shadows against the walls. Mara’s breath came steady, controlled, as she led the way. Every step echoed, a reminder of how deep they’d gone. The *Aurora* had been a research vessel, its mission to study the anomalies near the Belt’s edge. No one had heard from it in 2147.
“This place is a tomb,” Jax said, kicking a loose panel. It clattered against the wall, scattering dust that shimmered in the beam of his flashlight. “What’re we looking for? A ghost?”
Mara didn’t answer. She was focused on the central chamber, where the signal was strongest. The door was sealed, its mechanism frozen in time. She pressed her palm against it, feeling the faintest vibration beneath her fingers. It was warm.
“It’s still active,” she said, more to herself than him. “Someone’s inside.”
Jax’s laugh was bitter. “You’re joking, right? The crew’s been dead for sixty years.”
“Not if they didn’t die,” she countered, her voice sharp. She activated the override, the door groaning as it slid open. Inside, the chamber was intact, its walls lined with consoles that flickered to life at her approach. The air was thick, almost tangible, and smelled of metal and something else—something sweet and cloying.
“This is insane,” Jax whispered, stepping over the threshold. His flashlight beam caught on a figure slumped against the far wall. It was human, or at least it had been. The suit was torn, the face obscured by a mask that looked like it had melted in the heat. But the chestplate was still glowing, a faint blue light pulsing in time with the signal.
Mara approached slowly, her boots crunching over debris. The figure’s head turned, or at least it seemed to. The mask was cracked, revealing a set of hollow eyes that stared back at her. “You’re not supposed to be here,” the voice was raspy, almost a whisper. “They’re coming.”
Jax stiffened. “Who?”
The figure didn’t answer. Its body convulsed, the light in the chestplate flaring before dying out. The chamber fell silent, save for the hum of the consoles. Mara’s pulse was steady, but her hands trembled as she reached for the figure’s wrist. No pulse. No breath. Just a cold, empty shell.
“What the hell was that?” Jax demanded, his voice tight. “That wasn’t a corpse. It was…”
“Alive,” Mara finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to him, her eyes wide. “They didn’t die. They were taken.”
The signal pulsed again, stronger this time, and the consoles flared to life. Data scrolled across the screens—coordinates, warnings, something about a “convergence.” Mara’s mind raced. The *Aurora* had been studying the anomalies, but this… this was something else. A pattern. A message.
“We need to get out,” Jax said, his voice urgent. “Now.”
“Not yet,” she replied, her gaze locked on the data. “This is bigger than us. If they were taken, someone’s still out there. And they’re coming for us.”
The lights flickered, and the signal grew louder, a deafening roar that drowned out everything else. Mara didn’t move. She couldn’t. The message was clear now: the *Aurora* hadn’t been lost. It had been stolen. And whoever had taken it was still waiting in the dark.
