The *Odyssey’s Wake* hung in the void like a rusted skeleton, its hull pitted by centuries of solar winds. Commander Rhea Voss adjusted her helmet, the hiss of her suit’s life support a constant companion. Outside, the blackness pressed against the viewport, vast and unyielding. Her crew—Engineer Jax, Biologist Lira, and Security Chief Daren—stood behind her, silent except for the rasp of their respirators.
“This is it,” Rhea said, her voice steady. “The *Odyssey’s Wake*. No distress signals, no transponder. Just a dead ship floating in the void.” She stepped onto the ladder, descending into the darkness of the airlock. The metal groaned beneath her boots.
Inside, the corridor was dim, lit by flickering emergency panels. Dust swirled in the beam of Rhea’s flashlight, casting jagged shadows. “Check for life signs,” she ordered. Jax nodded, crouching to scan the floor with a handheld device. The screen blinked red.
“No biological activity,” he said. “But there’s residual energy—weak, but it’s there.” Lira knelt beside him, her gloved fingers brushing a control panel. The screen flickered, revealing a series of symbols she didn’t recognize. “This isn’t standard ship code,” she muttered. “It’s… ancient.” Daren’s hand hovered over his sidearm. “We’re not alone here,” he said.
The group moved deeper, their footsteps echoing. The air smelled metallic, like old blood. Rhea’s flashlight caught a door ahead, its surface etched with strange glyphs. She reached for it, but Jax stopped her. “Wait. If this thing’s been dead for decades, why is the door sealed?” He pulled a tool from his belt, prying at the lock. It gave with a metallic screech.
Inside was a chamber, its walls lined with data pods. Lira approached one, her breath hitching as the pod activated. A hologram flickered to life—a woman in a tattered uniform, her face lined with exhaustion. “This is Captain Elara Voss,” the projection said. “If you’re hearing this, the *Odyssey’s Wake* has failed. The anomaly… it’s not a malfunction. It’s a trap. Don’t trust the systems. Don’t trust the crew.” The hologram cut out, leaving only silence.
“What the hell does that mean?” Daren asked, his voice tight. Rhea stared at the pod, her mind racing. “The anomaly,” she repeated. “It’s still here.” A sudden tremor shook the ship, sending dust cascading from the ceiling. The lights flickered, then died. Darkness swallowed them.
“Power’s down,” Jax said. “But the energy reading—” He stopped as a low hum filled the chamber, vibrating through their suits. Lira’s eyes widened. “It’s not a malfunction,” she whispered. “It’s awake.” The hum grew, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Rhea’s pulse pounded in her ears as the darkness around them shifted, something moving in the shadows.
“We need to get out of here,” Daren said, his voice edged with fear. Rhea nodded, but as they turned, the door slammed shut. The hum intensified, and the walls began to pulse, like a heartbeat. “This ship… it’s alive,” Lira said, her voice barely above a whisper. Rhea clenched her fists. “Then we find out why.” She grabbed a nearby panel, wrenching it open. Wires sparked as she yanked a cable free, plugging it into her wrist device. The screen flickered, revealing a series of coordinates. “This is a distress signal,” she said. “But it’s not sending to anyone. It’s… looping. Trapping us.”
“We’re stuck in a loop,” Jax said, his voice hollow. “Like a ghost ship.” Daren cursed, his hand on his sidearm. “Then we break the loop.” He turned to Rhea. “How?” She stared at the coordinates, her mind racing. The anomaly wasn’t a malfunction—it was a trap, designed to keep people here forever. But why? What was it trying to hide? A sudden crash echoed down the corridor, followed by a guttural growl. The hum shifted, becoming a low, menacing tone. “It’s coming,” Lira said. “We have to move.” Rhea nodded, leading the group deeper into the ship. The walls pulsed with a sickly glow, and the air grew heavier, as if the void itself was pressing in. They ran, their breaths ragged, until they reached a massive chamber. At its center stood a pedestal, atop which floated a crystalline sphere. It pulsed with an eerie light, casting shifting shadows across the walls.
“That’s it,” Rhea said. “The anomaly. The trap.” She stepped forward, but Daren grabbed her arm. “You don’t know what it is.” She met his gaze. “I don’t have a choice.” She reached out, her fingers brushing the sphere. A surge of energy coursed through her, and the chamber erupted in light. The hum became a scream, and the walls cracked, revealing a vast, starless void. The crew stumbled back as the sphere dissolved, its light scattering into the darkness. The ship shuddered, then fell silent.
Rhea gasped, her vision swimming. The void was gone, replaced by the familiar stars. The *Odyssey’s Wake* was still there, but the hum was gone. The crew stared at each other, breathless. “It’s over,” Jax said. Rhea nodded, but her eyes lingered on the empty pedestal. Something had changed. The anomaly wasn’t gone—it was waiting. And it would come again.
The *Odyssey’s Wake* drifted on, a silent sentinel in the void, its secrets buried but not forgotten.
