It takes a few minutes to coordinate the science and security teams—longer than I’d like, considering the circumstances—but eventually we get everyone moving in the same direction. Once the initial chaos settles, we start sweeping the station in a systematic grid pattern, clearing it deck by deck. It’s a monumental task; the place is far larger than the Federation’s briefing made it sound. What they called a “mid-sized research platform” is actually a sprawling labyrinth of labs, storage bays, habitation rings, and auxiliary modules. Typical.
In the end, it takes three hundred crew members two full days to secure the entire station. Two days of combing through empty corridors, silent labs, and untouched living quarters. Two days of finding everything perfectly in place—meals half-eaten, personal effects left out, experiments still running—yet not a single person anywhere. It’s like the universe hit a cosmic pause button and forgot to tell the inhabitants.
Once the all-clear is given, I have my science teams begin disseminating the station’s research files. I want to know exactly what these people were doing out here in the void, and more importantly, what they might have unleashed. Meanwhile, my security teams go over every scrap of sensor data and station logs with a fine-tooth comb. If someone sneezed in the last month, I want to know about it. A bad day is rapidly turning into a worse week.
To avoid any potential contamination or dimensional nonsense, I keep the Phantasm at a discreet distance and leave Shadow in charge. If anything goes sideways, I want my ship far enough away to avoid getting sucked into whatever disaster these researchers cooked up.
As we enter the central lab—a cavernous chamber filled with equipment I don’t recognize and probably don’t want to—I hear Synthea’s voice cut through the silence.
“Master! Over here!”
There’s an urgency in her tone that makes my hand go straight to my sidearm. I turn, weapon drawn, scanning for threats. “What do you got?”
“A life form, sir. It looks like one of the station’s crew.”
My stomach drops. “Why didn’t we pick them up before?”
“It appears to be shielded inside this containment unit,” she says, already running diagnostics. “Scanners can’t tell if they’re even alive.”
Of course. Because nothing on this station can be simple. “Okay, let’s work on getting this field down. Once we do, we’ll see if they’re able to give us any information on what happened here.”
It takes a few minutes to hack through the security protocols. Fortunately, we already have most of the station’s access codes, and Synthea makes light work of whatever encryption is left. Her fingers move faster than should be physically possible—one of the perks of having her around.
“I’m lowering the field now, Master.”
I motion for the science and medical teams to move in. No way we’re bringing this person aboard the Phantasm until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. Besides, the station’s medical facilities are far more extensive than ours. Might be best to have Lote’ come here and handle things on-site.
“Sir.” One of our lead medical officers interrupts my thoughts.
“What is it?”
“This woman is in deep cryo-stasis. It’ll be some time before we can get her transferred to the station’s hospital.”
“And why are you telling me this?” I ask, already suspecting the answer.
“You’ll have to see for yourself, sir.”
I step closer to the containment pod, the frost-covered glass clearing just enough for me to see the occupant. I blink, then blink again. Well, that’s unexpected.
Inside the pod is Dr. Hewitt—lead researcher, project coordinator, and the station’s top authority. The head honcho herself. If anyone should’ve been at the center of whatever catastrophe happened here, it’s her. Yet here she is, frozen like a popsicle while everyone else vanished into thin air.
“Well, well,” I mutter. “What do we have here? How is it you survived while everyone else disappeared in a proverbial puff of smoke?” She doesn’t answer, of course. I don’t expect her to… yet.
I turn to my officer. “This is your number one priority. Contact the ship and get Lote’ down here ASAP. Place this deck and the hospital deck under full quarantine until further notice. Synthea is the only one granted access to come and go. Remain in your suits until further notice. Do not take any chances.”
The officer nods and rushes off to carry out the orders.
Things are starting to look up—slightly—but I’m not about to start counting my chickens. Not in a place like this. Not with dimensional tech involved. Not when the universe has a habit of turning optimism into a punchline. |
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Original Characters
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