“Brace yourselves!”

A male voice sounded through the intercom before a sudden lurch shook the entire ship. A young adult yelped as he lost his footing and crashed on the ground with a dull thud. His platinum blonde hair was a mess, and his hands shook like gelatin. His reflection on the glass almost scared him. Bags under his eyes, accentuated by his pale skin. It didn’t help his thin complexion, making him look like a sick person. A pair of cracked round glasses completed the look, even if they were mostly for show.

He was inside one of the Moonstrider’s escape pods, a claustrophobic space no bigger than a shower with just enough stuff to potentially survive deep space. It was one was one of the older models, a big white sphere with a circular glass door. It carried a small 3D printer, survival schematics, emergency radio, medicine, and rations for 2 weeks. Just like the ship itself, a pile of junk.

Another sudden lurch made him hit his head with the glass, disorienting him even more. His vision swam for a couple of seconds before he regained his footing. A face staring back at him from the other side of the door scared him.

“Isaah!”

It was a middle-aged woman that spoke to him. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders and over her space suit. Skin dark as chocolate, and a much healthier countenance compared to him. He needed extra seconds to connect her face to Clarice, the ship’s quartermaster.

“Isaah, everything’s going to be okay, hon.” She said as she entered the pod just in front of him. “Put on the suit and take a deep breath. We’re going to get through this.”

“B-bu…but…”

“Shh shh shh. I know.” She shook her head and smiled encouragingly. “But we can do this, ok? Need you to put on your suit. Can you do that for me?”

“…Yes…” He nodded nervously, grabbing onto the space suit laying crumpled on the floor.

“Just like that, go on, honey.” She reassured as he shakily put on the rugged space suit.

The space suit was basic. Breathing tanks on the back with oxygen for an hour. Enough insulation for spacewalks and not get cooked alive by radiation. Vital monitors on the wrists connected to his heart. It told him that he was hyperventilating and at risk of passing out. Ignoring the alarming beeps, he put on the helmet, briefly drowning the noise outside.

After a moment of thinking and properly digest things, he calmed down. Beeps rang as the suit ran diagnostics and powered up. His vision returned as the orange tint went away, accompanied by the familiar information on his HUD.

[Welcome, Technician Isaah Dax]

…

[Oxygen: 100/100]

[Heart rate: 102 BPM]

[Integrity: 87% ]

“You ok, hon?” Clarice’s voice drew his attention.

“Yeah…Thanks.” With a deep breath, he grabbed the handlebar inside the capsule. “I…”

“Don’t need to explain yourself.” She dismissed with a wave and went to her own capsule. “Grab a seat. We should be getting out of here soon enough.”

“Right…right right…”

Another jerk propped him to the only chair present inside. It didn’t hurt, thanks to the suit, but still threw his balance off. With a shake of his head, he fastened belts around his waist and chest. Thanks to them, the next one wasn’t as bad.

“Great first exploration, eh? Great story for the bar back home.”

The older woman said with a chuckle, putting on the helmet over her head. She went silent for a couple of seconds and her voice rang inside his helmet.

“Imagine Hadrock’s face when we tell him what happened.”

“Yeah…” he replied in a whisper.

“Don’t worry, Isaah! It’s going to be great on the resume! Might even snag some chicks over this.” She put her hands in front of her, imitating a line of text. “Brave exploration group deals with space pirates in their first mission!”

He knew what she was doing. Clarice was trying to distract him from their impending doom. Explorers had a high mortality rate after all, and not always because of the inhospitable places they often found themselves in, or lack of preparations for a return trip. Pirates loved to prey on smaller companies that couldn’t afford a better escort. Just like theirs. He knew they probably wouldn’t make it but… he found some comfort that he was not alone.

Chuckling dryly, he looked at his gloves. He could see the patches over the old suit that he had to make. The vitals monitor showed some wear and tear. Even some oxidation made its way to the metallic plates over his knuckles. Above all else, however, a small holoscreen projected a photo of their small crew over his palm.

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It was from the day the Moonstrider left port for the first time. It was a piece of junk all of them loved. A scarred, 60-meter corvette with fading orange paint. His friends, now family, stood beside him in front of the ship. A giant of a man with flaming red hair and a captain insignia on the back. A tall, dark-skinned, middle-aged woman beside him. An older, grizzled man hunched over with a serious expression and a shine over his bald head. And him, A skinny, sickly looking boy fresh from school.

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, remembering all the times they had together. Run-ins with the IPA while making deliveries. The close calls with less than savory folk. Nights enjoying the quietness of the void, drinking and telling stories…

“Isaah.” Clarice’s voice startled him. “We’re going to make it.”

“I… yeah, we’re gonna.” He answered back with some newfound conviction.

“Prepare for warp!” The same male voice blasted through the intercoms. It finally clicked for him that it was Jackson’s. “We shook them off!” The captain said with a laugh next to the grumbling Steward.

“See? You need to trust your captain, young man.” Clarice added with a relieved laugh.

The entire ship vibrated as the warp engine woke up. Even through the suit and the escape pod’s resistance to radiation, he could feel his skin prickle and his hair stand up. A message appeared in the center of his HUD right after.

Relief inundated him as, with one final lurch, the ship entered warp space and sped off into the beyond…before a powerful explosion sent everything to hell.

The corridor outside the pod tore apart as the ship forcefully reappeared from the jump. He could see a green and blue planet approaching from the new opening as Moonstrider fell in 2 pieces. Isaah could hear Clarice trying to speak to him, desperately banging on the glass, but he couldn’t understand. A shrill noise rang inside his ears as his vision clouded.

Heat rose as the atmosphere burned the pieces, turning fragments into molten slag. He watched in horror as the bridge spun uncontrollably as it entered the atmosphere, burning away like a meteorite. He could only guess why their side was not following suit.

Plumes of fire shot from both parts of the ship, managing to stop the spin on the bridge and decelerating them. Clouds rushed by as the parachutes deployed, slowing them down even more. However, such a drastic change in speed made all his blood go to his legs, knocking him out.

A primal roar booming out returned him to reality. Dread crept up his body and his chest tightened as a creature engulfed in flames shot towards the ship like a missile. When it hit the bow with a thunderous explosion, it knocked them off course.

The world around him slowed down to a crawl. His mind tried to make sense of what was happening, and it didn’t find any answers. By chance, he peered inside Clarice’s pod, but it horrified him. Everything had been reduced to slag, molten and burned. Her suit charred and fused with the chair as it dangled from the opening to the outside. Before he could say or do anything, both capsules ejected, sending them upwards and away from the ship.

His pod functioned correctly. It used its thrusters and parachutes to lower him to the ground carefully. The landing gear was faulty, but it was enough for a moderately comfortable landing. Clarice’s, on the other hand, crashed like a dead rock on the ground. The door crumpled and her body, along with her chair, flung away several meters.

Isaah sat inside his escape pod, surrounded by alien green flora. Dawn broke over the horizon, briefly illuminated by the bow exploding into a fireball a couple of kilometers away. Strange, bird-like creatures sailed through the skies, spooked by the sudden noise. Land critters followed as well, some on 4 legs, others in 6.

Silence reigned over the clearing as the stern finally collided with the ground over the horizon.

With trembling hands, he tried to cover his mouth, only stopped by his helmet. Visions assaulted him as his heart rate skyrocketed in his HUD. His breath quickened and his legs gave out in front of him. His team…his friends…people that stood by him for several years and found value in him. People he was prepared to make retirement plans with. All gone in a matter of seconds. He screamed until his throat gave out, then cried until exhaustion claimed him.

Under the gaze of an alien sky, he slept alone.

----------------------------------------

Incident: ME31QTBATM

Date: 02/12/4352 SEY (Standard Earth Year)

Casualties:

Jackson Terr

Clarice Yakamura

Steward Willis

Isaah Dax

Report:

Authorities reported the exploration vessel “Moonstrider,” belonging to “Concrete Solutions INC.,” as missing 24 standard hours after its last transmission. The last communication from the captain of “Moonstrider” was received by a Vanhelian military outpost. It read as follows:

“This is the Exploration vessel Moonstrider! Pirates are following us! We’ll try to shake them off and warp to Vanhelia! We request support!”

The last signal transmitted by “Moonstrider’s” onboard A.I indicate that a warp jump was initiated 3 minutes and 12 seconds after this transmission. No more transmissions were received after. Vanhelian naval authorities deny involvement in the incident. Following protocol, investigators conducted a covert investigation to determine the veracity of the claims.

3 standard days after the start of the investigation determined that there was no involvement from the armed forces or rogue agents from the Vanhelian government. The investigation team declared the exploration vessel “Moonstrider” missing and presumed destroyed, along with its four crew members. The status will change to DoD (Dead on Duty) after 300 standard days have passed without further communications.

Signed:

Lorereil_R._____

Exploration Committee of the United Nations of Mankind.