Grace turned to walk out of the chamber.

“I don’t think there’s anything for us here,” she said and headed back the way they came. Expecting to find the passageway, she was shocked to find another blank wall.

“What the hell?”

Chase turned and came over and also examined the wall, seeking any indication that there was an unmarked door hidden somewhere. He hit the wall with his fist. This time it didn’t ring hollow.

“That’s solid rock,” he said.

“Well, it wasn’t five minutes ago,” replied Grace.

The room suddenly felt a lot smaller, and amid a brewing sense of panic. Grace wondered if, in the darkness, she had merely mixed up her sense of direction and went over to the left wall. It was along the longer side of the table. She knew this hadn’t been the way they came in, but there wasn’t a door at either end, so it had to be somewhere. Not content with the light from her flashlight, she tapped along the wall to double-check that a door had not gone unnoticed somehow. Chase was doing the same along the adjacent wall.

“This room isn’t getting smaller, is it?”

“Grace, for an archaeologist, claustrophobia is a very odd choice” he replied.

“I’m not claustrophobic,” replied Grace with just enough of a hint of panic in her voice to suggest that this might not be true. Grace pulled out her slate and checked the readouts of the passage mapping program. It was now saying they were in a sealed room.

“That’s not possible,” said Grace angrily. “How did we get in if it’s a sealed room?”

Chase looked at the readout. The slate was convinced this was a sealed room with no entrances.

“Yeah, I agree. That makes little sense,” he said. “We’ve got to find a way out of here.”

“There’s no way out, and no one can get in,” said Grace.

“You sure about that?” another voice said.

At the head of the table sat a man who looked to be around forty years old. He seemed human, wearing clothes that wouldn’t look out of place during the Napoleonic era. Thankfully, he had foregone the bicorne hat. Chase immediately drew his sidearm.

“Who are you?” he said firmly.

“It’s Napoleon,” said Grace, pointing at him across the room. “Look at his medals.”

“I am not Napoleon. Relax,” the newcomer said. “I’m not here to hurt you.” He stood up and walked towards them, the various decorations on his uniform clinking. Grace and Chase were both remarkably tense and stayed where they were. The man reached out a hand and offered it to Chase.

“Pleased to meet you.” Chase reluctantly accepted the handshake, and the man over-enthusiastically shook, reaching in and tapping him on the back. “Lieutenant Commander Chase, what a privilege! And Grace Dakota as well. My, how fortunate I am,” he said, taking Grace’s hand in a surprisingly gentle grip. Grace had always hated how men tended to attempt to mask their insecurities by grabbing her hand far too firmly.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Chase.

The man bristled at this for a moment, clearly not liking Chase’s attitude. “We’ll get to that,” he assured them, sitting back down and putting his leather riding boots up on the end of the long wooden table.

“Is this your planet?” asked Chase. “Were you one of the people, or the descendants of the people, that traded with the survivors of the Trafalgar?”

“The Trafalgar?” the man replied. He looked puzzled for a moment, and then a grin appeared on his face. “Ah, yes, the Trafalgar. She’s still out there, of course. They could never get her running again, but maybe you will,” he said with a smile. “I think you just might.”

Suddenly, there was a light overpowering Grace’s eyes. She clenched them closed for a moment.

The sounds increasing, overlapping until they were overpowering. She opened her eyes again. Impossibly they were on the Trafalgar and she was hearing the various systems operating. In a huge contrast to the silence of the cavern.

Grace had watched a documentary series on the Trafalgar and recognised its large two-level bridge. It was long and wide, with the largest viewport Grace had seen. Along either side of the central walkway were sets of stations on the level below, allowing for the command staff to literally talk down to their subordinates and in that central spot where the captain’s chair should be was empty, taken to the makeshift house on New Tahiti.

By the sounds of it, the engines were fully activated and all systems running. Chase was furiously running from readout to readout.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Full systems active,” he said, not stopping as he moved between various bridge stations.

“But how did we get back?” asked Grace.

“Maybe we shouldn’t question it. We were trapped in a sealed room not two minutes ago,” said Chase. “It seems that I can get it working,” he continued. “And I‘m able to set a course.”

There was no sign of their new friend.

A broad grin stretched across Chase’s face. “I don’t know how they did it,” he said, “but it’s ready to use. We’re on the fully operational Trafalgar. We need to get the others back from the surface.” He ran over to the communication station and attempted to hail the Mary Rose.

Grace tapped into the ship’s library systems. There was a wealth of information on this ship. With her slate resting on the console as she started to transfer all the ship’s historic notes over to it. The progress bar was sat at one per cent.

Suddenly, the control panel in front of her disappeared, and the bulkheads also faded. Grabbing the slate, she could see star fields through the translucent ship, and suddenly she found herself back in the caverns below the surface. Had any of that even been real?

Chase looked shocked, turning around, trying to ascertain where he was. They appeared to have crossed half of the system and back in a matter of minutes.

“What was that?” demanded Grace.

The unknown man still sat lazily at the head of the large dining table. He casually lifted his military boots off the table and stood up.

“That is my answer to your question,” he said. “No, I’m not from here, and I can see that neither are you. But I do need your help,” he said, addressing them both.

“Our help?” said Chase. “You, who can fix a centuries-old disabled warship and transport us there in an instant, and you need our help? Why?” he asked. “You seem like a—”

The man held up a hand, palm flat. “Don’t,” he said. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

Grace assumed that Lieutenant Commander Chase inferred that they were in the presence of some sort of god. That was something she was very sceptical of, despite what she’d just witnessed.

“Okay,” said Chase. “If you’re not that, what are you? Who are you?”

“Well,” the man replied, “I’m in trouble. And although you don’t know it yet, so are you.”

“A sheep planet was attacked. I know you were there—”

“It was a human planet. They just raise sheep,” said Grace.

“That’s not the important thing to take away from this,” the newcomer replied. “The planet was attacked, and the attackers were the same beings that devastated the solar system that you now find yourselves in.”

“And they were you?” said Grace.

“No,” he replied firmly. “They most assuredly were not me. I had nothing to do with it. But there is more at stake here than either of you could possibly realise.”

“Why?” asked Grace. “What’s so bad? Okay, they’ve got long-range missiles, but so does the Alpha Persei Cluster. We are not exactly defenceless. We could take them in a fair fight.”

“Yes,” the man said, pointing at her. “Exactly. I know you could. That’s why I sought you out. But they’re not going to offer you a fair fight. They’re going to give you this,” he said, snapping his fingers.

And Grace was alone.

She looked out at a black star field with a faint hint of nebula to her periphery.

Floating through space, her feet adrift, and she realised she was able to breathe. She wasn’t cold or warm. Nor were molecules rushing out of her body. But just like their visit to a repaired Trafalgar, this was just another illusion.

“It’s not real,” Grace muttered to herself, trying to believe it. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took a deep breath and tried to slow it.

Turning around, she saw a planet beneath her. Lush blue oceans and green landmasses covered much of the surface. The planet was orbited by a grey satellite. This moon was suddenly hit by projectiles, and explosions and debris began flying off the far side of it.

Grace could not begin to imagine how large the strike was, far bigger than anything that had happened in all of humanity’s wars. Then she realised it was large enough to knock it out of its orbit. It made its slow, death heralding descent towards the planet. No doubt these events were presented to her at rapidly increased speed, for such events would take hours or days, but she witnessed it in seconds.

It made planetfall in one of the largest oceans. Causing tsunamis that ripped across the surface, and molten ash continued to fly up. She saw splashes of lights as the missile strikes continued to rain down.