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in the void, they dwell
chapter five

Written by Alex Hera

“There’s one more thing,” said Cassian. “According to this, the last time the station was scanned, six weeks ago… there were zero life signs aboard.”

The heavy words left Cassian’s mouth, and the rest of his crew stared in stunned reticence. Adair leaned against a nearby window and gazed out at the stars. The condensation of her breath left a thin layer of fog on the glass separating her from the cold vacuum of space. It was eerily, impossibly silent on Entropy IV, save for the intermittent creaking of decaying metal, and now they knew why. The station had gone dark, and they were alone.

“We need to find out what happened,” she said, finally.

“You’re right. We need to tell command the whole story,” said Cassian.

“For all we know, this is command’s fault,” said Adair. “Cosmonauts don’t just die like this, even this far out.”

“She’s right. They built this place hoping to find something. They were willing to sacrifice everyone for it. Like pawns,” Bruno chimed in.

“Dyson Enterprises,” Adair scoffed. “I told you what I thought of them when we met in that bar on Korinthia VIII. You were so convinced that I was wrong – but here we are.”

Cassian’s eyes darted downwards, repentant. A distant screech, that of metal scraping against metal, emanated from far off in the station.

“This place is falling apart. If we’re going to get answers, I suggest we get a move on,” said Florian. “Though personally, I’d prefer going home for a warm bath and a session with a memory editor.”

“I’ll go out the airlock on the upper deck to repair the station. It’s the only way we’re getting any answers,” said Adair

“Or surviving,” said Cassian. “The station only has sixteen hours of oxygen left.”

“Today keeps getting better and better,” Florian replied.

With quiet unease, they made their way further into the station, treading lightly in their zero-G boots as if trying not to disturb the souls of the dead. Cassian pointed them towards a turbolift with its doors slammed shut. Together, he and Adair pried it open and stared into the seemingly bottomless shaft, lift nowhere to be found. Adair noted a ladder along one wall, and stretched her arm out to grab the first rung.

“I guess we’re climbing,” Cassian stated. They were past the point of objections. Together, the wayfarers climbed, holding on tightly to the decaying metal as they progressed upwards, not daring to look down at the abyss below. Adair soon came to the intended floor and pulled the emergency release lever next to it – one of the few things she appreciated about Dyson Enterprises. Not everyone in the galaxy bothered to put in safety mechanisms, least of all pirates and independent colonies like the ones she had been around for most of her life.

One by one, they stepped out onto Deck 17, lights flickering on and off and walls streaked with blood. Florian, last to reach the top, nearly slipped as they let go of the ladder to step back onto solid ground. Cassian barely caught their hand and pulled them up. They didn’t even exchange any words; with the death around them and the time pressure, none of them felt much like talking until they reached the maintenance airlock. Adair made her way towards it. Next to the ominous, metallic door was a shelf with a diagnostic pad and a multitool. She grabbed both.

“Are you sure about this? I could go out there instead,” Cassian said.

“You’d just get yourself killed. I’ve been flying all my life. I can handle the repairs,” she replied, turning around to face him. A dim light inside the helmet illuminated her face. She looked into his eyes, and he into hers. “Besides, you need to keep an eye on those two.”

“You better make it back in one piece. I don’t want to be left alone with these two for the next sixteen hours,” Florian said, lightening the mood.

“I’ll do my best,” the pilot replied, grabbing the diagnostic pad and the multitool.

Cassian pressed the glass of his helmet against hers. After a moment, Adair turned and entered the airlock, closing the heavy metal door behind her. She tapped the panel on the wall of the small, square room, and the air rushed past her as the pressure changed. Her boots kept her stuck to the floor as the door opened into the darkness of space.

“Comm check,” she said.

“Copy,” Cassian’s voice crackled into her helmet. “Good luck out there.”

She took her first heavy step forward, magnetic boots clanking against the metal hull as they stuck and unstuck, keeping her from floating off into the void. She raised her hand in front of her visor as the light of the nearby star, Kepler-974, glinted on the hull of Entropy IV. Approximately fifty yards away, she spotted the raised control panel.

“Panel spotted. Approaching now,” she said. “It sure is bright out here.”

“Copy that. You’ll… back inside… no time… all,” Cassian replied, voice fading in and out over the comms.

She continued making her way forward, each step taking a tremendous effort, until she eventually reached the panel and knelt down. Without Cassian’s voice or the muffled noise of her footsteps reverberating in the suit, she was alone in the quiet of space, her own strained breathing her only company. Adair pressed down a button on the side of the panel, and silently, it erupted from the station, towering six feet high and allowing her to access its components. She held the diagnostic pad in her hands – a sleek, bronze-colored rectangle – and plugged it into the panel. The screen lit up and a readout of the station printed across it, pixel by pixel, as it received the data. Multiple lights flashed as critical systems were out, but she tapped on ‘power’. As Cassian had identified, the panel she stood at was throwing an error and acted as a bottleneck for the entire system. She opened the panel and pulled the multitool out from the belt on her exosuit, examining the cables and fuses within, finding one that seemed cracked and partially burned.

“One of the fuses is blown. I’ll have to splice some of the cables together to bypass it,” she said, flicking on the laser function of the multitool. Intently, and with as much dexterity as she was able in the suit, she went about slicing and soldering together the innards of the control panel until eventually, she stepped back, satisfied.

“I think that did it. Rebooting now,” she said. She flicked a switch on the panel to cycle it, and after a moment, she could feel the hull beneath her vibrate lightly. Over her shoulder, she saw the black windows of the station become lit one by one. “Cassian, do you have power?”

“You did it, stardust,” his voice crackled in reply. “Now get back inside.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” she said. She pressed the button on the control panel and it retreated into the hull. As it dipped below her eye level, her eyes adjusted once again to the blinding light on the hull against the backdrop of space – and she blinked. She swore she saw something floating there. When she opened her eyes, it was still there. She blinked again. It was closer. She racked her brain, trying to comprehend what it could be – another corpse? A piece of debris? A craft of some kind? She looked over her shoulder at the station again, about to turn to get back to the airlock. When she turned back, it was floating only feet away – a man… no, a creature, at least ten feet tall, flaking black skin, crooked and spindly limbs, impossible proportions, and a featureless white face. It looked radiant in the glow of Kepler-974.

“Adair, what are you… out there?” Cassian’s voice dipped in and out.

“Cass… there’s something out here with me,” she whispered, as if it might somehow hear her. She held completely and totally still, adrenaline coursing through her body.

“There’s… can’t see… power fluctuating…” his voice grew more distorted with each word – until suddenly, it was punctuated by a scream. Adair jumped, startled by the sudden noise.

“Cassian?!” she said, still not daring to move. The creature’s featureless face gaped at her and she couldn’t look away. She was petrified – scared to keep staring but even more terrified of looking away. A second later, Bruno’s voice echoed inside her helmet.

“Adair, something’s wrong... Cassian... implant… his eyes… writhing on the ground... needs... get to the medbay,” the engineer said, voice fading in and out - but even through the static, Adair could hear the way he was stumbling over his words in fear.

The pilot, frozen in place on the hull with nothing but a thin exosuit and a glass helmet separating herself from the vacuum of space and this incomprehensible creature, racked her brain for what she should tell Bruno to do. If Cassian was in danger, he needed to get help immediately and waiting for her, or this creature, to get inside was a liability – but could she take her chances with this creature on her own?

Art by M4ngey