The asteroid field stretched endlessly before Rayader, a vast expanse of jagged, tumbling rocks bathed in the cold light of distant stars. He floated weightlessly, his breathing steady inside the confines of his helmet. Each inhale was accompanied by the soft hum of his suit’s systems, a steady rhythm that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.

Rayader’s hands worked with practiced ease, guiding the laser cutter over the surface of a particularly stubborn chunk of ore. The laser sliced through the rock with a precision that belied its power, sending sparks of molten metal drifting into the void. The asteroid's surface glowed briefly, then cooled, leaving behind a clean cut that exposed the precious minerals within.

His ears twitched at the crackle of static over the comms, the faint but familiar voices of his crewmates filling the silence. They went back and forth, as they always did, about the latest haul—arguing about ore weight, trying to predict how much profit it would bring. It was the same conversation they had almost every day, a routine so ingrained it felt as natural as breathing.

"Five tons, maybe more," Orin’s voice cut through, sounding as confident as always. "We hit the next vein, and we’ll be swimming in credits."

"Yeah, sure, Orin," Dhaka chimed in, her tone amused but skeptical. "I'll believe it when I see it. What was it last time? Seven tons? We barely hit four."

Rayader let a small smile tug at his lips but didn’t chime in. The banter between the two was comforting, in a way, like background noise that kept things feeling normal. Or at least, as normal as life could get out here. He floated in the vast blackness of space, guiding the laser cutter over a particularly stubborn section of ore. Sparks drifted lazily into the void, glowing for a brief moment before being swallowed up by the dark.

"Hey, Cap, what do you think?" Orin’s voice broke through again, pulling Rayader from his thoughts. "You’re the numbers guy. We pulling a big score, or what?"

Rayader hesitated, watching the laser slice clean through the rock. "It’s just a job, Orin. We’ll pull what we pull."

The response was short, practical. No need for empty promises or big expectations. Rayader had long since learned to keep his focus on the work in front of him, not the “what-ifs” and “maybes” his crew liked to dwell on. The asteroids would give what they had, and that was that.

"Man, you’re always so upbeat," Dhaka’s voice came through, dripping with sarcasm. "Seriously, it’s like a motivational speech every time."

Rayader chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he adjusted the angle of the laser. "Just calling it like I see it."

"Well, for what it’s worth," Orin said, sounding less amused now, "I think this one’s got more to offer. You can feel it, you know? Like when the rock’s about to crack open with something big."

Rayader didn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing as he watched the cut in the ore. Maybe Orin was right. Maybe they’d hit it big this time. Or maybe, like always, they’d scrape by with just enough to keep going until the next haul.

"Guess we’ll find out," Rayader finally said, his voice calm, the steady hum of the laser cutter filling the silence again.

He could hear Dhaka muttering something to Orin over the comms, their playful bickering resuming in the background. Rayader didn’t mind it. It kept the day moving, gave them all something to think about besides the endless dark stretching out before them.

He glanced back at the mining ship, its worn hull reflecting the faint light from the distant stars. It wasn’t much, but it was home—at least for now.

Rayader nodded, though Dhaka couldn’t see him. The life of an asteroid miner was a hard one, filled with long days of grueling labor and the constant threat of danger. But for Rayader, it was the only life he had known for the past few years. The hum of the mining ship, the endless black of space, and the weight of a mining tool in his hand—they had become his world, his refuge from the past he couldn’t fully remember.

The memories were fragmented, hazy like a half-forgotten dream. He recalled waking up on a cold metal floor, surrounded by the groans and whispers of others in the dark. The air had been thick with the stench of oil and fear. He had been aboard a slave cargo ship, packed in tight with others—mostly other species, all bound in heavy chains. The pain in his wrists where the shackles had rubbed them raw still haunted him. That ship had been his first memory, the point where his life had begun, or so it seemed. The past before that was a blank slate.

He remembered the harsh commands barked by faceless guards, the metallic clang of boots on steel grates, and the weight of hopelessness that hung over the entire vessel. He had been young, confused, his own reflection in the dirty surfaces of the ship unfamiliar. The scars on his wrists were a constant reminder of those early days when survival had been all that mattered.

When he had escaped—if you could even call it that—it was less of a daring feat and more of a twist of fate. A riot broke out among the prisoners, and in the chaos, Rayader had found himself free, stumbling into the void of space without a plan or a past to guide him. That was how the mining crew had found him, floating adrift in a cargo pod, unconscious and alone.

Since then, this life had made sense. There was work, there was routine, and there was the silence of space. It kept the memories at bay, kept him focused on the present rather than the questions he still didn’t have answers to. For now, it was enough.

Rayader glanced down at his forearms, noticing the faint lines beneath his skin where the bone spikes lay dormant. They were a part of him, sure, but an odd part, like finding an unfamiliar key on your ring and never knowing which door it opened. The crew saw him as one of their own—a typical Ahdakaian, with pale skin and those sharp, angular features common to their race. But there was always that undercurrent of difference, the quiet hum of something not quite right.

He ran his thumb over his wrist, feeling the faint pulse underneath, the spikes beneath his skin a secret he kept locked away. They weren’t like the genetic modifications some of the others had. No, these bone spikes were different, like something had rewired him from the inside. He had first noticed them during that awful time on the slave ship, when survival had pushed him to the edge. Back then, the spikes had felt like a curse, emerging in a moment of desperation, more instinct than intention. Now, they were just there, quiet and still, but always a reminder that he was… other.

“Hey, Rayader,” Orin’s voice crackled over the comms, breaking through his thoughts. “We’re just about done here. You good?”

“Yeah,” Rayader responded, shaking off the lingering thoughts. “Just clearing up this last bit.”

The voices continued over the comms, but Rayader was only half-listening, his gaze drifting back to the stars, endless and cold. He kept his distance from the others, not because he wanted to, but because it felt easier that way. Easier to keep the peace. The spikes were his burden to carry, a reminder that he didn’t fully belong—not to this crew, not to this place. He was close enough to blend in but far enough to feel the separation, like the faintest crack running through glass, invisible until it shatters.

Dhaka voice came through the comms again, breaking the silence. “Found anything interesting over there?”

Rayader let out a small breath, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Just the usual. Rocks. Ore. And more rocks.”

“You know, if you ever stop mining, you could have a real future in poetry,” Orin quipped, his voice light, though there was an undercurrent of something else. Concern, maybe.

Rayader chuckled softly, though his gaze remained distant. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But even as he joked, Rayader’s thoughts kept circling back. The spikes were a constant presence, something he had to keep hidden, because if anyone found out, he knew it would change everything. Here, on the ship, he had carved out a quiet existence, blending into the background like just another miner. But deep down, he knew—knew in that quiet, restless way—that he didn’t truly fit. Not here. Not anywhere.

The silence stretched, the soft hum of the ship filling the gaps in the conversation. Rayader didn’t mind. Silence had always been easier.

The asteroid beneath him rumbled slightly, a small tremor that sent vibrations through his boots. He steadied himself, his movements fluid and controlled. The quiet isolation of space had become second nature to him, a far cry from the chaos that had once ruled his life.

“You still with us, Rayader?” Dhaka’s voice crackled through the comms again, this time with a hint of concern. “Yeah, just finishing up here,” Rayader replied, refocusing on the task at hand. He activated the extraction tool, a low hum resonating through the metal as it began to drill into the exposed ore.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Rayader’s grip on the controls tightened as Orin’s voice came through, crackling faintly over the comms. “Got something big here. Might want to take a look.”

He paused, his finger hovering over the switch that powered down the drill. Big could mean anything out here, and that anything usually had teeth—or worse. His heart gave a little jump, the kind you get when a tool slips from your hand in zero-g and you’re left watching it float, helpless. Trouble always seemed to have a way of creeping in when the day felt too quiet.

“Define big,” Rayader replied, his voice calm, though there was an edge of curiosity laced with concern.

Orin’s rough chuckle rumbled through the static. “Big enough that I’m not sure whether to keep digging or run for it.”

That wasn’t the kind of answer Rayader wanted to hear. He cut the power to the drill, the mechanical hum fading into the vacuum of space. Adjusting the thrusters, he pushed off toward Orin’s location, his body gliding smoothly over the asteroid’s jagged surface. The stars hung still in the distance, cold and indifferent.

As he drifted closer, he noticed Orin’s suit lights casting long, eerie shadows over the cracked terrain. Orin was already crouched down, hands on his knees, staring at something in the rock.

Rayader landed softly next to him, his boots barely making a sound as they made contact. “So, what’s the big mystery?” he asked, peering over Orin’s shoulder.

Orin didn’t move at first, just tilted his helmet slightly. “See for yourself.”

Rayader followed his gaze and froze. There, embedded in the rock, was something metallic, gleaming faintly beneath the asteroid’s dust. It wasn’t just another chunk of ore or scrap left behind from a long-dead mining op. No, this looked deliberate, manufactured—like a piece of something much larger.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Rayader muttered, though he already knew the answer.

The holo-pad in Orin’s hand flickered faintly, casting a pale blue light across the jagged rock they were standing on. He glanced over at Orin, whose usually steady hands were now clenched tightly around the holo-pad. The pale light from the pad flickered across Orin’s face, illuminating the hard lines of worry etched into his brow.

“Look at this,” he said, tapping on the pad. The scan expanded, revealing the dense layers of rock beneath the surface, but interspersed with strange, glowing tendrils of energy. “This asteroid’s been around for millennia, but this?” He pointed to the glowing anomaly. “It’s not supposed to be here. This material—it doesn’t come from this sector. Not even close.”

Rayader frowned, glancing from the screen to the asteroid beneath their feet. “So what? It got dragged here?”

Orin shook his head, frustration creeping into his tone. “No. That’s the thing—it wasn’t dragged. It was placed. Carefully. And whatever placed it had tech far beyond anything I’ve ever seen.” He pointed at the faint energy lines again, the way they twisted and branched through the rock like glowing veins. “These energy patterns—they’re too uniform, too deliberate. It’s like… like someone grew this thing from the inside out.”

Rayader’s stomach twisted at the thought. Space was supposed to be empty, random. Rocks were just rocks—dead, cold things drifting aimlessly. But the asteroid beneath his feet suddenly felt like it was watching him, alive in some way he couldn’t comprehend. "Grew it?" he repeated, incredulity creeping into his voice. "You mean like a plant or something?"

Orin nodded grimly, his eyes still glued to the holo-pad. “Sort of. But nothing that should be possible out here. You’d need conditions that simply don’t exist in this sector—extreme gravitational forces, specific mineral compositions, magnetic anomalies—things we only see near stars, or worse, in the Drahgan Rift.”

“Think we should keep digging?” Rayader asked, though the question felt more like a formality. They both knew there was no turning back from a find like this.

Orin shifted, tapping a finger against his helmet. “Not sure. But if it’s as old as it looks, we might be sitting on more than just a mineral deposit.”

He had seen enough derelict ships and ancient wreckage to know that some things were better left buried. He leaned forward, studying the object more closely. The lines were too clean, too precise. This wasn’t debris—this was part of something intentionally hidden.

“Feels... wrong, doesn’t it?” Orin said, echoing Rayader’s own thoughts.

Rayader nodded slowly. There was a tension in the air now, like the asteroid itself was holding its breath, waiting for whatever came next. The silence between them stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, as if the very stars had turned their backs on them.

“We should call it in,” Rayader finally said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Orin didn’t answer right away. Instead, he ran his gloved hand over the surface of the metal, almost reverent. “Or maybe we just keep this between us for now,” he said, his tone low, conspiratorial.

Rayader glanced at him, feeling a pulse of unease. “And if this thing’s dangerous?”

Orin’s helmet tilted back toward Rayader, the visor reflecting the distant glow of stars. “Well,” he said, his voice laced with dark humor, “when’s the last time something out here wasn’t?”

Rayader didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, he stared at the gleaming metal, his mind racing with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answered. Whatever this was, it didn’t belong here. And the thought that it had been waiting, undisturbed, for who knows how long sent a chill creeping up his spine.

They stood there, the two of them, locked in a quiet moment of uncertainty, while the universe drifted on, unconcerned with whatever they had just uncovered.

Rayader glanced at his own display. The numbers flickered wildly, each one more impossible than the last. Whatever was inside that asteroid wasn’t just some forgotten wreckage or dormant tech. The energy signatures were too erratic, too... aware, as if whatever was down there could feel them coming.

“It’s off the charts,” Rayader muttered, his voice low, almost lost in the steady hum of his suit’s systems. “What the hell did we just find?” Rayader asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Orin didn’t answer right away. He tapped a few more commands, his brows furrowed beneath the visor of his helmet. “Whatever it is,” he finally said, his voice hollow, “it’s got enough power to light up half the quadrant. But the readings don’t make any sense. It’s like the energy is—”

Before he could finish, Orin’s console flashed again, the energy readings climbing higher. “It’s still fluctuating,” he said quietly, his voice tight, the words heavy with a growing sense of dread. “Whatever’s in there... it’s not done waking up.”

Rayader hovered near the console, his eyes fixed on the pulsing readouts. The jagged, rising lines on the screen felt like a heartbeat, erratic and uncontrollable, and it sent a ripple of unease through him. The ship, the asteroid, the flickering energy beneath it all—nothing about this felt right. He could almost hear the hum of the unknown entity reverberating in the ship’s walls, like some ancient Kelgaer beast stirring in its slumber, preparing to rise.

“Define ‘waking up,’” Rayader muttered, though the question was more rhetorical than anything else. His pulse quickened, though he kept his voice level, trying to mask the feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. The crew around him felt it too—he could see it in their stiffened postures, the way they moved with the careful tension of people who knew they were about to step into the unknown.

Orin glanced at Rayader, his face partially obscured by the glow of the console. “I wish I knew. But whatever it is, it’s not just an energy spike. It’s... building. It’s growing.”

“I don’t like this,” Rayader said, the words escaping before he could stop them. His voice was low, almost swallowed by the steady hum of the ship around them.

Orin nodded, his jaw clenched tight. “You’re not the only one. This... this isn’t just a mining operation anymore. We need to—”

Before Orin could finish, the lights flickered again, this time more violently, casting long shadows across the walls. It was like the entire asteroid had let out a slow, deep breath, and Rayader felt the weight of it pressing down on his chest.

Dhaka’s voice cut through the tension, crackling over the comms. “Rayader, Orin, get back to the ship. We’ve got incoming. Something big, and it’s heading straight for us.”

Rayader’s blood ran cold. “Something big.”

“An Ahdakaians warship,” Dhaka’s reply was sharp, laced with urgency. “And from the look of it, they’re not here for a friendly visit.”

Rayader’s stomach dropped, the weight of Dhaka’s words hanging in the air like a dense fog. The Ahdakaians. The empire. Their presence was never good news, and the fact that they had shown up now, right as the energy in the asteroid was spiraling out of control... it couldn’t be a coincidence. His mind raced, a thousand possibilities flashing before his eyes, none of them good.

“We’re on our way,” Rayader responded, his voice steady despite the tightening knot in his chest. He turned to Orin, locking eyes with him. “Let’s move. Whatever this is, we can’t deal with it here. Not now.”

They activated their thrusters, the familiar but shaky jolt of the suit’s propulsion systems propelling them back toward the ship. Rayader felt the sharp tug of adrenaline pulling at his limbs, a mixture of fear and urgency coursing through him. The distance to the ship felt longer than it should have, the cold vastness of space pressing in on them as they moved, and for the first time in a long while, Rayader felt vulnerable.

As they neared the ship, the looming silhouette of the Ahdakaians Empire vessel materialized on the horizon, dark and menacing against the backdrop of the stars. It was sleek, almost predatory, like a silent hunter waiting in the depths. The way it moved—slow, deliberate—made Rayader’s skin prickle with unease. It was a reminder of the empire’s reach, of the power they wielded effortlessly over everyone in their path.

“It’s too close,” Orin said, his voice tense. “Why would they be here? What do they know?”

Rayader shook his head, his throat tight. “Does it matter? We just need to figure out how to stay out of their way.”

As they docked with the ship, Rayader felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly, though the unease gnawing at his gut didn’t disappear. He stepped into the familiar confines of the ship, the hum of the engines surrounding him like a constant pulse. But the comfort it once provided was gone. Everything felt off, the air heavy with the weight of what was coming.

Rayader moved quickly to the viewport, his eyes locking onto the Ahdakaians warship. It hovered in the distance, a dark giant against the stars, its presence almost suffocating. The way it absorbed the light, the way it seemed to command the space around it—it was like staring into the maw of a beast, its hunger barely concealed.

“The Ahdakaians,” Rayader muttered under his breath, his pulse quickening again. “This can’t be good.”

The silence stretched between them as they watched the warship glide into position. Every second felt like a lifetime, the weight of the moment pressing down on Rayader’s shoulders. He could feel the tension building in the room, thick and suffocating, like the air before a storm.

Dhaka’s voice broke through the silence, crackling over the comms. “Subspace jump complete. They’re hailing us.”

Rayader didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the warship. He knew, deep down, that whatever was coming next would change everything. The empire didn’t just show up without a reason, and whatever they were here for... it wasn’t going to end well.