The darkness of space never looked emptier as the VoidDancer led two other Hokkonian corvettes across Zi sector, the area of space just beyond the gravitational pull of Hokku’s outermost moon. Zi sector was a dead zone like usual, the proverbial cliff’s edge regarding Dromedar’s galactic border. So when Sylaron was ordered to a Zi patrol, he knew it was meant as a punishment. At first, his crew complained loudly about the injustice, but he was quick to silence them. He refused to give the High Families any satisfaction in their puppeteering. He would carry out the order like a good soldier and lead his crew like a good captain. Political tampering be damned.
Sylaron subconsciously smoothed the spines that lay flat on his scalp and surveyed the bridge. He was standing on the captain’s platform, a raised balcony that made it easy for him to see the entire room and communicate conveniently with any worker. Behind him was his padded captain’s chair, though it remained as empty as it did for the entire voyage. Sitting in it made him feel lazy, and he loathed that feeling.
“We’ve reached the corner, sir,” the navigator said, swivelling from his chair to look up at him.
Sylaron nodded, “Thank you, Githi. Bring us around, and we’ll make one final sweep before heading home.”
Githi’s gray skin was darker than most, and his spines were sparse. Though that didn’t matter to Sylaron, he appreciated the Hokkonian’s skill as a navigator, and that was enough.
“Chri,” He called to a female seated on the opposite side of the room, “Contact the WarpStorm and the Solaris. Tell them we’ll be heading back after this last sweep.”
She smiled, revealing razor-sharp teeth that flashed in the dimly lit bridge. “At once, Captain.”
His gaze swept across the rest of his crew, some of which he was still learning names. They were a hard-working group, loyal to the Sovereignty and to him, though there was always a chance some of them could be spies implanted by one of the high families. That was never a possibility that could be ruled out. It was a distasteful truth about the Hokku Sovereignty, the planet that Sylaron had pledged his life to.
“I’m getting something on the long-range scan, Captain.” The young officer seated beside Githi said in a bewildered tone.
Sylaron frowned, there couldn’t be. The Zi sector was a barren place.
The radar tech shook his head, and the spines on his scalp quivered in fear, “No sir, there’s a heat signature, I think it’s a ship.”
Sylaron stifled a laugh at the ridiculous statement. There wasn’t another star system for five light years, a lone ship would never cross the void waste between here and there.
“Perhaps you read the scan wrong,” Sylaron said gently, not wanting to put the young officer down.
Githi spoke up; he was leaning across his station and staring at the monitor. “No, captain, he’s right. It's biological.”
An uneasy murmur rose up from the bridge, and Sylaron gripped the handrails that protected him from the slight drop to the bridge floor. Most likely a malfunction in the system.
“Grab the coordinates and send them to our companions, we’ll see if they’re also picking up something. In the meantime, let’s get the engineers on the scanners. I want whatever problem there is fixed as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Captain,” Chri said.
Another officer nodded and hurried out of the bridge to fetch the engineers. Sylaron turned to Dridik, his executive officer. The Hokkonian was an imposing figure, taller than anyone else on the ship and nearly as muscular as the marines drinking and gambling in the barracks.
“It’s a malfunction, Syl. Don’t get any ideas,” Dridik muttered.
Sylaron shook his head, “It might not be. Hokku has welcomed visitors from the neighbouring star system before.”
Dridik rolled his eyes at the reference to the military archives they were all forced to memorize, “That was a sanctioned event. Were you debriefed about another historic visitation today?”
He didn’t answer. Dridik was probably right.
“Both the WarpStorm and the Solaris confirmed the approaching target,” Chri said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
Sylaron’s stomachs lurched, “You’re certain?”
Chri didn’t say anything and nodded. The insanity of the statement wasn’t lost on her, and for once, Dridik didn’t have a smart response.
“Move to intercept,” he said calmly to Githi, “Chri, inform our companions of our new trajectory and intentions with the target.”
Chri hurried to relay the message. The spines on her scalp fluttered in response to her nervousness. The ship lurched as Githi forced a change in direction, and Sylaron pulled up his own personal monitor so he could keep an eye on the unidentified target. It was moving quickly, and within a matter of minutes, the target could be spotted and identified on the close-range scans. A battle-class cruiser, significantly smaller than the VoidDancer and her friends but appropriately outfitted with weapons. Sylaron made the order to prepare for a fight.
“Chri, I’ve drawn up an interception strategy. Send it to the WarpStorm and the Solaris so they can be prepared,” Sylaron said, tapping a few buttons on the screen he held in his hands.
Dridik leaned over and glanced at the screen, “the electrostatic tractors? They’re not strong enough to stop a ship travelling at that speed.”
“Three electrostatic tractors might be, if we position like this, the tractors we’ll create a net and we’ll catch the thing.”
The executive officer frowned, “We’re not catching butterflies out here, Syl.”
“Well, we’re not going to destroy it, so I don’t see what option we have,” Sylaron said firmly.
Like Dridik, the WarpStorm and the Solaris captains were not keen on following Sylaron’s strategy. Yet they had no choice when they failed to develop an alternative plan. None of them wished to shoot down an unknown ship from the wastes. Answers wouldn’t be found in floating debris. Nonetheless, the exterior cannons were primed.
Sylaron spoke into the intercom system, and his voice echoed through every chamber on the ship, “Attention all crew and passengers, please brace for potential impact.”
The ship became visible to the naked eye, and for a moment, it was just a speck on the horizon. Sylaron had to squint to see it through the bridge’s massive viewport. Shockingly, the ship closed the distance nearly instantly. A collective gasp went out from the officers as everyone realized just how fast the ship was travelling. Even Dridik stiffened and muttered a curse.
Miraculously, Sylaron’s plan worked and the electrostatic tractor net held. The speeding spacecraft came to a slamming halt. The g-forces from the sudden stop ripped two of the fins off the hull, both of which slammed into the VoidDancer, causing a loud crash and causing the entire bridge to tremble. Sylaron winced at the unplanned collision and subconsciously tapped the tips of his razor-sharp teeth together.
There was silence on the bridge as all the officers seemed to be holding their breath. Only the whirring of computers and the faint clack clack clack of his teeth could be heard.
”Status?” He called.
The bridge seemed to re-awaken at the sound of his voice.
“Minor damage to the hull, sir. There’s a breach in the maintenance floor.” A female officer called from her station close to the exit door.
“And the target?”
“The main body is intact, but there was extensive damage to the hull where the fins were attached, sir.” A male officer states, staring wide-eyed through the viewport.
Sylaron glanced at Dridik, who shook his head at the lucky success of his impromptu plan.
“Chri, alert the WarpStorm and the Solaris that the VoidDancer will tow the vessel back to Hokku and board when ready.”
There was an excited murmur amongst the officers as Chri relayed the message back to the captains of the other corvettes. Sylaron’s request to take the unknown ship was not met with any resistance.
“Get the Marines prepped for boarding, full gear.” Sylaron said to Dridik.
The Hokkonian nodded silently and left out the private entrance behind them. The door closed with a hiss, and Sylaron looked down at Githi.
“Plot a course for Hokku, but go slow. I don’t want to damage the air-lock seal in our haste.”
“Yes, captain,” he replied.
“Chri, contact Admiral Yilros and explain the situation.” He took a deep breath, “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have an alien vessel to board.”
“On it, Captain,” Chri said with a curt nod.
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The rest of the officers saluted as he turned on his heel and left. Sylaron met the boarding squad at the airlock, where Dridik stood briefing them. They were a small group of heavily armoured marines trained for close-quarter combat and boarding scenarios. Their armour was put together in diamond-shaped plates that overlapped and interlocked with each other, allowing for seamless movement. The scale-like armour encased their entire bodies, leaving only their scalps exposed where their spines stood on end. Erect spines could mean many things in Hokkonian culture, but it was simply an intimidating visual to unsuspecting enemies. Each marine carried a Skarthkas, a specialized gun-blade wielded by the elite soldiers of the Sovereignty. The hilt was more like a round metal sphere, a magnetic core that simultaneously repulsed and attracted the rest of the weapon. The result was a floating blade and barrel that hummed with powerful energy. A large curved blade was on one end, with a long barrel on the other. The unique design allowed for an immediate switch between long-range and melee with a simple wrist flick. It was a weapon that Sylaron had always admired but never took for himself. As a captain, he only needed the hand cannon he kept strapped to his hip and the ARC blade he had cybernetically implanted in his forearm. That body modification was a secret only he and a few close friends knew about.
Dridik nodded at him, “They’re ready.”
“Good, then so am I.”
It was impossible to see the Marines's reaction to the statement, as their armoured helmets covered their face, and a tinted visor covered their eyes. Though Sylaron caught the way their heads swivelled to look at one another, he saw the disbelief on Dridik’s face.
“You can’t go on there, Syl. You’re the captain. What if something happens?”
Sylaron almost laughed, “I’m not going to send anyone into a place I wouldn’t go myself. If anything happens, the ship will be yours.”
“With all due respect, Captain. It’s alright. This is what we’ve trained for.” One of the marines said, his voice enhanced and emitted through a microphone in his suit.
“It’s out of the question. Now let's go, we're wasting time.” Sylaron gave Dridik a silencing look, and the executive officer raised his hands in a defeated gesture.
“Alright, you’re the captain. I’ll be on the bridge hoping the airlock doesn’t break so you’re not sucked into space.”
Sylaron gestured for the marines to begin the breach, and he took up a position behind them. The airlock doors opened with a sharp hiss, indicating the change in air pressure. Slowly and very quietly, the breach squad stepped through the transition tunnel and started to cut a hole into the hull where the ship was attached. Their breaching tools made quick work of the metal exterior, and within minutes, the unmistakable clang of metal collapsed to the ground.
“Breach made, proceed with caution.” The lead said, his voice quiet yet audible through his armour’s microphone.
The squad carefully entered the Hokkonian-sized entrance, barrels of their Skarthkas raised in case of immediate enemy contact. Sylaron was the last to step over the crude cut-out hole, and once he did, the rotting smell made him recoil. The entire ship reeked of decomposing organic matter, and he envied the marine’s suits for their purified air supply.
They walked down a tight corridor, and when they reached an intersection, the marines readied their weapons and turned the corner with practiced efficiency. Those who disappeared beyond the corner reacted almost instantly, and low-toned disgust swept through the squad as they muttered curses. Sylaron hurried to catch up, and what he saw made his stomachs churn with nauseated horror. His spines stood on end like the marines’ scalp as adrenaline pumped into his blood.
Bodies lined the large chamber, each one mutilated beyond recognition. Based on the tattered uniforms mixed into the gore, that was what was left of the crew. They were tiny compared to the average Hokkonian height of eight feet. To Sylaron, they looked like children.
“They’ve been dead for ages,” One of the marines said casually, “fluid is dry.”
“Spread out and look for the thing that did this,” The lead said.
Sylaron tried in vain to smooth his spines, but his hands shook as he swiped them over his head. The air was so thick with the stench of rot that he nearly gagged when he spoke.
“Be careful. Whatever did this is still on board.”
One of the marines stepped directly onto a corpse, and the decomposed tissue and bone squelched beneath his armoured boot.
“It would have taken months for this ship to travel the waste. Whatever set the course is long dead.” He said.
Sylaron tapped his teeth together thoughtfully and immediately regretted the gesture as the stink entered his open mouth.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” He choked out.
He eyed a door on the other end of the chamber and carefully picked his way through the gore. He envied the marines' armoured suits for the second time as they fearlessly marched through the carnage. Any fluids might not be left, but dried grizzle still caked onto his shoes when he reached the other side. He flicked some of it off as he surveyed the door before him. Large white letters were written on its side, but the unknown language was lost on him, so the symbols held no meaning. His captain instincts told him that it had to be the navigation room. Maybe whatever caused this mess was hiding behind the sealed door.
“Get this door open,” He called out loud.
He heard echoing footsteps as a few marines returned from the network of corridors and various rooms.
“Right away, sir,” the marine closest to him said.
The soldier placed two armour-plated hands at the base of the door and, with pure brute strength, forced the door open. The mechanism that sealed the door broke with a loud clang that echoed through the ship. The door retracted upwards into the ceiling and out of view. Somehow, the stench inside the room was even worse. It wasn’t the smell of rotting corpses but something different. Something completely unknown that Sylaron had never smelled before. The Marine entered first, and Sylaron followed close behind. The spines on his head pricked up, and this time, he did nothing to flatten them down. Instead, his hand rested on the hand cannon. There was something ominous about the chamber, something that Sylaron couldn’t place.
A sudden shriek made him jump, and the marine reacted instantly. With a quick flourish of his Skarthkas, the curved blade whipped down in a vicious arc. Fluid splattered across Sylaron’s face as a small shape collapsed into two pieces on the floor.
“Are you okay, captain?” The marine asked casually, unperturbed by the instantaneous flash of violence.
Sylaron wiped whatever splashed on his face and wrinkled his nose when he felt a thick ooze on his fingers. He looked down at the floor and saw what the marine had cut down. It was an alien humanoid, similar to the corpses in the large chamber behind them. Except this one was only in two pieces rather than a hundred. The Skarthaks cut cleanly through the alien’s upper body, slicing at a diagonal angle that left its innards spilling out onto the floor. The corpse was lying facedown, and there was strange-looking growth protruding out the base of its skull. The bulging mass looked different from the rest of the corpse. Shiny black in colour, which was a stark contrast to the pale violet pigmentation of the corpse’s skin.
“A parasite,” Sylaron muttered.
“Captain?”
“Bring it on board, just the upper half. The rest we’ll leave here until we get back to Hokku.”
“Yes, sir-“
The corpse suddenly shrieked again, and the severed upper half convulsed violently and lurched for the marine. Sylaron’s heart lurched into his throat, and to the marine's credit, he did not flinch at the sudden resurrection. Instead, he lifted his boot and readied himself to execute the zombified creature with a lethal stomp to the skull.
“Wait,” Sylaron said, “If we kill it, we won’t have any proof to bring back to the SovereigntySovereignty.”
The marine’s tinted visored face turned to him, his expression unreadable. “There’s proof enough in that foyer, captain. If it were up to me, we would torch this entire ship and leave it floating in the Zi sector.”
Sylaron gave him a hard look, “It’s a good thing it’s not up to you then, is it.”
The soldier quailed, and instead of crushing the life out of the parasite, he gave it a violent kick. The creature shrieked again, thrashing and writhingwrithing in a desperate attempt to reach them.”
“Restrain it, and get it on board. We need to get back to Hokku.”
“Right away captain,” He didn’t argue, but his tone said enough about his willingness to obey that order.
Two more marines appeared, probably at the silent order of the one who cut the alien down. Their helmets allowed for silent communication if needed, and now the three of them had an inaudible conversation. Most likely debating how they were going to restrain the thrashing undead. Of course, they could be talking about him. He left their mute conversation and the shrieking ghoul. He was so quick to escape the horror scene, that he strode through the mess of gore without a second thought. When he stepped through the breach point he took a long moment to dink in the VoidDancer’s circulated atmosphere. There was something incredibly unnatural about the ship, and he was glad to be back in a familar place.
“Well?” Dridik's voice made him jump.
“What are you doing here? I told you to wait on the bridge.” Sylaron barked, embarrassed by how easily Dridik had frightened him.
“I was. I was up there when you exited. You’ve been standing here since.”
Sylaron gave him an alarmed look. Had. Had he really been lost in thought for that long? That would mean the Marines should have the parasitic creature restrained by now.
“Uh, Syl…” Dridik motioned to his head.
Sylaron reached up and touched his scalp. He felt his spines standing erect, and when he hurried to smooth them down, his hands brushed the spines on the back of his neck. Those, too, were standing on end.
“What happened in there? I haven’t seen you this uptight since the entrance exam.”
A loud commotion came from the alien ship, followed by a string of curses. The parasite-host shrieked, and the unsettling sound echoed into the VoidDancer. It felt wrong to bring that thing on board like he was violating his ship with its presence.
“You’ll see, they’re pulling it on board now.”
“Pulling what on board?”
But Sylaron was already walking away. He suddenly felt intensely uneasy about the situation and longed to return to Hokku. As he walked to the bridge, he replayed the events in his head, and a realization made his blood turn to ice. The unknown visitors weren’t invading Hokku but escaping. They were fleeing whatever had attached itself to the navigator’s skull. If that ship had crossed the wastes, more were on the way.