A short story by David McLean

CHAPTER ONE

The solitary starfighter darted across the inky expanse of the cosmos, hidden from the watchful eyes of her comrades. With a sleek, W-shaped form, she boasted stealth capabilities unmatched by any other craft. The stainless adamantium alloy of her surface gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the overwhelming darkness punctuated by distant suns’ pinpricks of light. This special alloy allowed her to evade enemy radar, cloaking her in a veil of shadows.

“Rota, this is Herja. How’s your eagle holding up?” Herja’s voice echoed in Rota’s helmet, steady and calm.

“All systems green, Herja. Ready for anything,” Rota responded, her green eyes scanning the vast expanse of space around her.

“Good to hear. I’ve got no visual yet. Stay frosty,” Herja instructed, her voice a constant presence in Rota’s ear.

“Copy that, Herja. Eyes wide open,” Rota replied, her hand resting lightly on the joystick. She felt the hum of the engines in her bones, a reassuring vibration that signified the power at her fingertips.

“If you spot anything, let us know,” Herja reminded her.

From her cockpit, Rota observed her HUD displayed on a panoramic cockpit display, a large 20 by 8-inch piece of glass that provided her a big picture view of the battle space. She tinkered with controls on her dashboard with her left hand, each control stick equipped with 18 buttons each. Meanwhile, in her right hand, she gripped the trigger of her joystick, ready to engage the ship’s weaponry systems at a moment’s notice.

The craft’s AI dealt with flying and hundreds of multitasks required to maintain its flight path. It was a marvel of modern engineering, combining advanced technology with a design that was both practical and visually striking. Rota focused on operating the ship’s weaponry systems, her mind racing with strategy and tactics. She sensed the enemy lurking nearby, waiting for the right moment to strike. She was ready for them.

“How are you holding up cadet , Mist inquired, breaking the silence. First time in the ring, right? Not quite like any other simulation is it?”

“I’m not about to let you down Mist, not when the fate of the galaxy rests on my nimble shoulders.”

Mist chuckled , her amusement evident in her voice. “I’m sure you won’t disappoint, my shining little beacon of valour and skill. If we make it through this , we’ll be one step closer to joining the Valkyries. The cream of the crop. 

Another voice broke over the comms interrupting them. 

“We got one hundred and twenty-eight participants out here with us today. You think  you got the mettle to stand among the chosen few rookie? Prima asked.

Rota’s eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint. “Bitch,” she declared, her voice laced with playful defiance, “ I’m the force of mother nature not to be fucked with today.

Mist burst into laughter, her amusement echoing through  the confined space of Rota’s cockpit.  “Well said, Rota ,” she acknowledged. “ Go forth and conquer, and may mighty forces come to your aid.”

Rota wiped beads of sweat from her brow, feeling the heat of the cockpit and the pressure of the G-forces. Seven gruelling days of relentless flight sorties and combat engagements had taken their toll. Today, however, was different. She was piloting a battle-ready starfighter, armed with real tactical payloads. In previous years, many cadets had lost their lives during the seventh day’s exercise drills. The risk of collision with other squadrons was like playing Russian roulette in the chaos of the mock battle, despite the onboard sensors and anti-collision system. Moreover, faulty ballistics in her strike payload could trigger an onboard explosion. She was piloting her 346-pound vessel, laden with 256 pounds of combustible material, at speeds exceeding 4,450 miles per hour. The stakes were high, and Rota felt her heart pounding in her chest, even though it was only a simulation.

As part of the Blue Squadron, Rota and her fellow cadets were the defenders, tasked with protecting the Ellis space station from the Red Squadron, the aggressors. The Red Squadron was a swarm of 72 strike drones, agile and deadly, controlled by advanced AI pilots. In a typical Ring of Fire exercise, the Blue Forces engage the hostile Red Forces in realistic combat situations. The Red Forces provide realistic space threats through the emulation of opposition tactics.

For generations, it was the drones that patrolled the perimeter of the Heliosphere, the boundaries of our solar system, against the threat from beyond the stars – the Arthros. A sentient race of invertebrates from a distant world, the Arthros were cold, calculating, and hell-bent on exterminating humanity.

Rota knew little about the Arthros, beyond what she was taught at the academy. To her, they were more myth than reality, akin to stories told to scare children. She had learned that the Arthros had struck Earth centuries ago, nearly wiping out humanity—and not just humanity, but all life on Earth and in the off-world colonies scattered throughout the solar system. She was told that the Oort Perimeter, the largest man-made object ever constructed, had been built as a defense against the Arthros, should they ever return. But they never did, Rota mused, as she studied the flight data, scanning her HUD for drones. Six generations of starfighters had patrolled the boundaries of the solar system, drilled daily in the arts of space combat, yet none had engaged a single hostile enemy. Many cadets dismissed the stories of the invasion and the Arthros as mere myths or legends, fabricating conspiracy theories about the true purpose of the perimeter.

“Rota, this is Herja. Do you copy?” Herja’s voice came through the comms, sounding tense.

“I copy, Herja. What’s the situation?” Rota asked, switching to the tactical channel.

“We’ve got incoming. The Red Squadron is on the move. They’re heading straight for the Ellis station. We need to intercept them before they reach the target. Are you ready?” Herja said, giving the orders.

“I’m ready, Herja. Let’s do this,” Rota said, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

“Good. Follow my lead. Blue Squadron, form up on me.” Herja said, accelerating towards the enemy.

Rota followed Herja’s starfighter, seeing the other cadets in her squadron behind her. The Blue Squadron of starfighters moved in perfect harmony, unaware of the danger lurking in the depths of space. They arranged themselves into a classic V- formation. The starfighters were not flying close to each other. Thanks to advanced sensors, the pilots no longer had to maintain visual and fly close to one another. They could maintain formation while being further away from each other.

The solitary starfighter, piloted by Herja, the squadron leader, led the formation. She set the pace and direction, her movements mirrored by the rest of the squadron with practiced precision. Rota and the other starfighters followed in echelon, their positions staggered to the left and right of the leader at a considerable distance. This was the first level of training, where pilots executed tasks with a high degree of autonomy. As starfighter technology advanced, wingmen were integrated into the tactical plan. Each starfighter operated at the wide limit of visual formation, allowing them to focus on tactical employment. This increased responsibility enabled wingmen to make their own tactical decisions in limited scenarios, managing risk for the formation without direct flight-led direction. Rota and her squad mates acted like flight leads, processing the battle space around them, making tactical decisions, executing under their priorities, and communicating critical package-level information to their own flight and others outside the flight.

A spectral drone bomber floated silently through the vast expanse of space, its destination: the heart of the Blue Squadron’s defence. Its mission was clear. Destroy the Ellis space station’s missile launchers before the Blue Squadron was even aware of the attack. Close behind, a pair of stealth starfighters followed. Their engines hummed softly. They had arrived from the dark side of the moon, their presence a secret weapon in the bomber’s arsenal. Red forces were the guardians of the bomber, their mission to ensure its safe passage.

“Red forces, this is the bomber. I’m approaching the target. Keep those starfighters off my tail,” the bomber said, transmitting a coded message.

“Copy that, bomber. We’ve got you covered.”  The drone Viper responded, scanning the space around it.

They moved closer to the battlefield. The droids have an unfair advantage in these games. This is their playground. They have chased visiting pilots through this edge of space for years.

“Rota, this is Herja. Do you copy?” Herja’s voice came through the comms, sounding alert.

“I copy, Herja. What’s going on?” Rota asked, switching to the tactical channel.

“We’ve got a situation. The Red Squadron has launched a surprise attack. They’ve got a bomber heading for the Ellis station, escorted by two stealth starfighters. We need to stop them before they reach the target. Are you ready?” Herja said, giving the orders.

Rota followed Herja’s starfighter, seeing the other cadets in her squadron behind her. She scanned the space ahead of her, looking for the enemy.

“I’m ready, Herja. Let’s do this,” Rota said, feeling a surge of adrenaline.

“Blue Squadron, this is Herja,” the flight leader’s voice echoed through the comms, steady. “Maintain flight path.”

“Copy that, Herja,” Rota responded, her eyes scanning the vast expanse of space around her. The other pilots echoed her response like a chorus choir.

The Blue Squadron was on high alert. Suddenly, a red blip appeared on Rota’s radar. “Herja, I’ve got a visual on Red forces,” she reported, her voice tense.

“Confirmed, Rota, I see them too,” Herja replied. “All units, prepare to engage.”

Blue Squadron sprang into action. Their engines roared as they darted towards the enemy, their weapons systems coming online. The serene expanse of space erupted into a flurry of activity.

“Stay sharp, team,” Herja instructed as she approached the enemy. “Remember your weapon drills. We got this.”

“Roger that, Herja,” Rota responded, her starfighter weaving through space as she lined up her first shot. “Let’s show them what we got!”

The battle space filled with the roar of engines as the Red and Blue forces prepared to engage. The Red forces hovered ominously at the edge of the Ellis space station. Their hulls gleamed menacingly, their weapons primed for attack.

The Blue Squadron was in formation, their engines pulsing with energy. As the signal for engagement sounded, the Red Forces darted forward like a swarm of angry hornets. Their weapons’ systems lit up the darkness with a barrage of energy projectiles, each one aimed at the Blue Squadron.

In response to the incoming barrage of laser fire, Rota broke off formation. She manoeuvred her fighter like an extension of her body, evading the incoming projectiles while returning fire. The surrounding space was ablaze with the light of laser fire, creating a dazzling spectacle of colours and sparks.

“This is intense. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Rota said to herself, feeling a mix of excitement and fear.

She clenched her teeth, feeling a surge of adrenaline. She knew it was just a simulation, but the stakes were real and the lessons learned would prepare her for the actual battles to come. 

Rota’s mind was a blur of activity within her cockpit, eyes darting between the HUD and the chaos outside. The sound of her breathing in her helmet was drowned out by the cacophony of laser blasts and noise from her engines. There was a strange beauty to it all Rota thought. The way the starfighters moved, the ballet of evasion and attack. The light of the laser fire against the backdrop of the cosmos. 

Rota maneuvered to get the enemy in front of her while keeping an eye on her back, aiming to get as close as possible without being detected. The drone moved swiftly, closing the distance rapidly to position itself behind Rota. In the blink of an eye, the hunter had become the prey. Rota darted through the battle space, her engines leaving a trail of blue fire. A Red Force starfighter pursued her relentlessly. She pushed her ship’s throttle to its limits, her movements precise and calculated. Weaving through an asteroid field, she navigated the massive, irregular rocks at four thousand miles per hour, trying to outthink and outfly the AI. The asteroid field offered a chance to lose her pursuer. However, the Red Force starfighter, piloted by the AI Viper, was equally skilled and maneuvered with aggressive determination. It dodged the asteroids with ease, its advanced programming compensating for erratic movements. The chase unfolded as a deadly game of cat and mouse. Rota zigzagged, looped, and barrel-rolled, trying to shake off her pursuer, but the Red Force starfighter matched her movements, undeterred.

“Herja, I’ve got a bogey on my six, can’t shake him off,” Rota’s voice crackled over the comms, her tone steady despite the situation she found herself in. 

“Hold on, Rota. Kara, Mist, can you assist?” Herja, the flight leader, responded, her voice calm and authoritative.

“On it, boss. Mist, you with me?” Kara chimed in. 

“Right behind you, Kara. Let’s give some breathing space,” Mist replied, her tone cool and focused. 

“I’ve got your back, Rota. Just keep that eagle in the air,” Prima added. 

“Fall into tactical formation. Let’s give them all we got,” Herja responded.

The conversation ended abruptly, replaced by the deafening roar of engines and the blinding flashes of laser fire. Rota found herself engaged in a dogfight with Viper. With a flip of a switch, she unleashed decoy flares to evade the barrage of heat-seeking projectiles unleashed by Viper’s starfighters. Viper swooped and dived, always on Rota’s tail. But she was not an easy target. She had trained for this and had spent countless hours in the simulator, preparing for a moment like this. She knew her starfighter inside and out. With a quick flick of her wrist, Rota sent her starfighter into a barrel roll, evading a barrage of projectiles. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, she darted behind a nearby asteroid, using it as a shield against Viper’s attacks. Harja and Mist closed in on Viper’s starfighter.

 “Rota, what’s your status?” Mist asked. “I’ve got shots on my tail,” Rota replied.

An alert blared on board Viper’s screen, accompanied by a shrill warning tone. Threat Inbound, Two Hostiles, Employ evasive manoeuvres. 

“Target acquired, I’m moving in for my guns,” Mist’s voice echoed over the comms line. 

“Copy Mist, take it out.” Harja replied. “Guns guns guns!” Mist cried as she fired upon Viper’s starfighter, striking it with a bolt of plasma that sent a huge electrical charge surging through the craft, disabling it.

 “Good shot, Mist. Fall back into formation,” Harja said.

“Thanks Mist,” Rota said, her voice tinged with relief.

“Rota, climb to flight level two five zero and rejoin the squad formation,” Herja commanded.

Having narrowly escaped Viper’s assault, Rota’s relief was short-lived as her radar picked up three incoming Red Fighters. Her heart sank as she quickly assessed the situation. The new threats were coming in fast and from a direction that would cut off her escape route.

“Herja, I’ve got three aggressors inbound,” Rota reported, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. There was a moment of silence before Herja responded, her tone sharp, 

“Rota, what are you doing? You’re deviating from the flight path. Stay in formation!” 

“I’ve got a shot and I have to take it,” Rota responded.

 “But you’re too close to the squad. You could collide with one of us!” Herja warned. 

Rota knew the risks, but she understood the reward. Taking out these fighters could turn the tide of battle in their favour. With a deep breath, she pushed her starfighter hard left as she closed the distance between the oncoming Red Forces. Prima and Mist watched in stunned silence as Rota’s starfighter darted dangerously close to theirs. They could see the skill in her movements and the unwavering focus in her trajectory. They held their breaths, their own battles forgotten as they watched Rota perform her daring manoeuvre. With a sudden burst of speed, Rota shot past her squad mates, missing them by mere inches. A collective sigh of relief echoed through the comms as Rota engaged the Red Forces, her starfighter slicing through enemy fire like a knife. It was a gamble that could have cost her everything. 

“Rota, you reckless bitch, you’re not the only one out here!” Herja’s voice crackled over the comms. 

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Rota said. 

Rota’s engines roared as she closed the distance between herself and the aggressors. She locked onto the first fighter, her weapons systems buzzing as they charged up. With a squeeze of the trigger, she let loose a barrage of energy projectiles, watching as they streaked towards the enemy. 

“Got you in my sights, you bastard. Time to pay the price,” Rota said to herself, feeling a surge of satisfaction. The Red Forces weaved and dodged, their movements unpredictable and erratic. Rota took out the first fighter. There was another blip on her radar. It was Cobra, the Red Forces’ wingman drone. Before she could react, Cobra let loose a barrage of its own, its projectiles streaking towards Rota’s starfighter. Rota jerked her starfighter to the right, but it was too late. She felt the impact of the blast, sending a jolt of pain through her body. Warning lights flashed in her cockpit, her systems screaming in protest as they tried to compensate for the damage.

“Mayday, mayday! They have hit me!” Rota’s voice echoed over the comms, her voice filled with urgency. 

Her starfighter spun out of control, her vision filled with a dizzying swirl of stars. 

“Well done, Rota, now you’re dead,” Herja said.

All systems except life-support shut down on Rota’s fighter, leaving her in silence and darkness. Her ship floated alone in space, a solitary figure against the vast backdrop. Gazing out the window, she saw the awe-inspiring Ring of Fire surrounding the solar system. The barrier of super-hot plasma stretched out before her, a wall of fire crackling and hissing, marking the edge of interstellar space. This sphere of plasma, ranging from fifty-three to eighty-nine degrees Fahrenheit, painted the dark space with hues of orange and red. Despite its formidable appearance, it was low density, and spaceships could pass through it without issue, provided they had adequate insulation. The Ring of Fire served as a powerful reminder of the sun’s influence, even at the solar system’s outermost edges, where solar wind created a shield blocking seventy percent of interstellar cosmic rays. Bathed in the ethereal light of the Ring of Fire, Rota marveled at the sight. As she waited for her starfighter’s systems to recalibrate, she rested her weary eyes. The blast that had hit her ship was designed to render it inoperable until the mission’s end.

Her mind wandered to the storm of anger she anticipated upon her return to base. Herja would undoubtedly be furious, likely blaming her if the Red Forces triumphed in the battle. Havor, the mission commander, would surely reprimand her for breaking formation and nearly causing a collision with her teammates. 

“I’ll surely be grounded this time,” she mused, sinking wearily into her chair. 

While her piloting skills were unquestionable, even surpassing her peers, she knew her disregard for flight rules and protocols was a problem. Rota harboured a deep-seated resentment for authority, and the fact that Herja, a less skillful pilot, had been assigned as flight leader instead of her, stoked the flames of her resentment. To Rota, Herja was nothing more than a docile dog, obediently following Commander Havor’s orders, which made her the ideal flight leader in his eyes. Prima, Mist, and the other cadets were no better, mindlessly following the commander’s lead like timid sheep. The silence was shattered by the sound of her ship’s systems roaring back to life. The cockpit was flooded with light, the array of indicators and displays blinking and beeping like a Christmas tree. “Finally, now I can get out of here,” she sighed with relief. As she reached for the controls, ready to get out of there, a distress signal blared in her ears, jolting her from her thoughts.

 “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday,” the message echoed. The voice was human, but deeper than any voice that Rota had ever heard. Even the older women on the station had never sounded so gruff. “This is the battle carrier Costaguana, help us, Help us, Help us. MMSI 234178490 Callsign MBC5. Our position is alpha-9 by delta-12. We have passed through the ring of fire and suffered critical damage. We require immediate assistance. 100 persons on board.” A sense of panic gripped Rota as the distress signal played continually on loop. The Ring of Fire was a wild and untamed beast, unpredictable and dangerous. Rota knew she had to act quickly. Setting a course for the derelict coordinates, she rebooted her craft’s systems. After what felt like an eternity, the Costaguana emerged from the fiery barrier. Floating amidst the cosmic sea, the derelict ship came into view, its hull scorched and battered. The Costaguana, once a symbol of human achievement and military might, now drifted through space like a ghostly relic. Its hull, a twisted mass of metal, bore the scars of an unknown attacker’s onslaught. Once roaring through the solar system with the force of a thousand suns, it now floated like a wounded beast. Its once vibrant lights flickered sporadically, casting long, menacing shadows across the battered walls. The ship’s mighty engines sputtered and died, leaving a trail of cosmic dust in their wake like a dying star.

“Costaguana, this is Rota of Valkyries Squadron at Ellis Station. Do you copy?” 

The only response was the distress signal playing the same mayday call repeatedly. She tried several more times to contact the vessel before giving up. She then tried to contact the flight tower at Ellis station. 

“Flight tower, this is Rota of Blue Squadron. Do you copy?” 

Again her calls were met with resounding silence. 

“Flight tower, this is Rota of Blue Squadron. Please respond?”

 Nothing but dead air over her comms radio. In desperation she tried to contact her squad mates. 

“Flight leader, this is Rota. Over?” Nothing but static air in reply.

 “God damn it. Mist, Prima, can anyone hear me?” 

When no-one replied she knew that something was wrong. The charge from the blast must have fried her comms, leaving her in a deafening silence. She clenched her fists, feeling a surge of anger and frustration. She hated being alone and cut off from her squad. She initiated rescue protocols and charted her course towards the vessel. As she drew near to the docking bay, she carefully manoeuvred in close to the ship’s airlock. A mechanical boom-arm extended from her starfighter to latch onto the ship. Its clawed hand grabbed the antennae cluster, causing it to buckle slightly under the stress. The outer doors closed under the ship. Pressurised air shot into the airlock for a few seconds, and then the inner doors opened, the ship rising into the bay. The air doors closed under it, locking clamps latched onto it from the top. Rota thought the derelict resembled a giant tomb floating through the infinite expanse of space. It was a phantom ship forever doomed to sail the celestial sea, a chilling warning to the horrors that lurk in the depths of space.

CHAPTER TWO

Rota stepped into the ship, a labyrinth of darkness and silence. The only sounds were the occasional creaks of the hull, groaning under its own weight. The corridors and cabins that once bustled with crew members were now empty and still. The air was stale and heavy, tainted with the smell of burnt metal and fear. Rota felt a chill run down her spine as she ventured deeper into the ship. She found herself in a docking bay that swallowed all light. She activated her helmet’s visor, which scanned the area for signs of life. There were none. She lit a blue flare, casting a ghostly light over the scene. Everything around her shimmered and pulsed, as if the ship was alive. The walls were translucent, revealing the metallic veins that ran through the ship, pulsing with a faint blue light. A wave of dread washed over her as she detected a dark, malevolent energy permeating the ship.

She made her way through a twisted maze of corridors and rooms. The central corridor stretched into the darkness in both directions. Distant windows let in faint pools of light, reflecting off the ice crystals that hung in the air. The crystals sparkled and danced in the light of Rota’s helmet, creating eerie shadows that seemed to move in the darkness. Rota’s unease intensified with each step she took forward.

As she descended to the lower decks, her fear escalated into horror. Signs of a violent struggle were everywhere: overturned furniture, shattered glass, and splattered blood. The walls bore bullet holes and strange markings, suggesting the crew had clawed at them in their final moments. The scene spoke of a desperate and brutal fight. Rota wondered what had happened to the crew and what had killed them.

She reached the ship’s science laboratory, where the signs of violence were even more pronounced. The lab was in disarray, littered with broken equipment and cryptic symbols, suggesting the scientists’ desperate attempt to thwart the enemy. A faint beeping in her helmet indicated a signal from the lower deck. She followed the sound to a half-open door, blocked by a makeshift barricade of metal and solar panels, bent and twisted as if something had tried to break through. An axe, stained with blood, was embedded in the door. Rota pulled it out and examined it, wondering who had wielded it and who had perished by it.

Kicking the door, she hoped to find someone alive. “Hello? Is anyone there?” Her voice echoed through the empty ship, but no reply came, only the sound of her own breathing. Pushing the door open, it revealed a dark and silent room. She stepped inside, her flare illuminating the scene, and gasped, dropping the axe. The room was filled with mutilated corpses, beyond recognition. Among them were crew members of the Costaguana, their uniforms torn and stained. The faces of the scientists stared back, eyes wide open in terror. The bodies of the enemy lay there too, their skin pale and mouths twisted in snarls. Blood, gore, and horror surrounded her. A wave of nausea hit, making her gag. Stumbling back, she tripped over a severed limb and fell to the floor, her helmet cracking against the metal. A primal, guttural scream filled the air, but no one heard her.

Rota moved through the deserted laboratory, where the zero-gravity made the stainless steel surgical instruments float like phantoms. The dim lighting cast long and monstrous shadows that brushed against her suit, making her shiver with cold and fear. The ship was enveloped in an otherworldly glow, as the lights flickered and painted a scene of magnificent devastation, like a haunted palace. The lab equipment had been uprooted and used to build a barricade. A surgical glove touched her shoulder, making her spin around. Her pulse raced, echoing loudly in her ears. She passed through a small antechamber, where chairs and a cracked monitor drifted aimlessly. Red crystals floated in a crimson mist, reflecting the light from her helmet and creating a bloody glow on the walls.

A frozen explosion of blood and tissue stained the wall behind Rota, like a macabre fresco. Someone or something had met a violent end here. The sight sent a shiver down her spine. She felt a tight knot of fear in her stomach, filling her with dread.

She scanned the room with her helmet, looking for any signs of life. There were none. The crew had shut down everything to conserve power, leaving only the basic support systems on. The science workstation still had power, though. Maybe she could locate the crew from there, Rota thought.

A shadow crossed the window behind her. She was not alone. Something was in there with her. She pulled on the door to leave the room, but something heavy blocked the door hatch from the other side. When it opened, Rota was thrown backwards by the force and hit a floating corpse. A strobe of red light flashed across the corpse’s swollen tongue, filling its gaping mouth, locked in a perpetual scream. She pushed the corpse aside and continued onwards, until she finally located the elevator to the ship’s lower decks. A dimly lit corridor stretched out before her, where the shadows danced menacingly in the flickering lights.

To her surprise, the elevator was still working. She pressed the button and listened to the elevator’s groans and wheezes as it made its way up to her level. Its metallic frame creaked and groaned like a wild beast as it ascended. With a sickening crunch, the elevator doors burst open, releasing trapped air that smelled of stale oil. Rota entered, keeping her back firmly against the wall. She clutched her pistol tightly as the elevator descended into the depths of the doomed spaceship. Cables creaked and wailed, as if in pain. Every now and then, there was a loud bang, followed by a deafening silence, as if the elevator was gasping its last breath.

As the elevator reached the lower decks, the noises grew louder and more disturbing. The creaking and growing grew more intense,and the hissing burst into a deafening roar. Rota could hear strange guttural sounds echoing  through the shaft, and she could smell something foul and decaying wafting through the air.

Suddenly, the elevator lurched to a halt, and the lights flickered wildly. The hairs on Rota’s neck stood on end when she heard a loud scraping sound coming from the top of the shaft. Rota clung to the wall, her face pale with fear. Finally ,the elevator reached the lower deck . The hulking doors slid open, and Rota stumbled out into another dimly lit corridor. She was sure she could see shadows moving in the corner of her eyes but she convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks on her. She directed her steps toward the neon sign that dangled from the cieling.  Cryo-stasis area the sign read and the dot that pinged on her visor display was signalling that the signs of life were coming from this area.

Within a few steps she found herself  in a secure room  that was the cryo-stasis area.  She was well acquainted with the concept of cryo-stasis,  a life-support system in which a person is put into a state of significantly reduced metabolic activity  for a long-duration. The process slowed down human metabolism to an extent where the occupants can survive for extended periods of time with minimal ageing and resource consumption. It acted as a sort of therapeutic hypothermia which involved cooling the body down to below normal body temperature of thirty-seven celsius to slow down the heart rate and blood pressure. It was common practice back at the station to put all of the crew into cryo-stasis for extended periods of time. They called it hibernation. Rota had been in stasis at least once every year since she was born. The experience was similar to a general anaesthetic , there was no memory of dreaming or sense of time passing . Rota thought of it as the little death as she imagined dying must feel similar. There was no sense of self at all. It is as if you just disappeared and reappeared. If the pods in the chamber remained untampered with, then she was sure anyone inside them should still be alive.

Rota placed her hand on the scanner to gain access to the room. The scanner analysed and verified Rota’s DNA, confirming that she was a human and a cadet of the United Systems Space Force. The door slid open, revealing a room bathed in a neon-blue glow. Dominating the space was a large cylindrical pod, a marvel of engineering, made of white metal and glass. Suspended in a clear, viscous liquid inside the pod was a man. He was in his early thirties, ruggedly handsome, with an athletic build. A breathing apparatus covered his mouth, and life support tubes were attached to his abdomen.

The scene was eerily reminiscent of a baby in the womb, but this womb was made of metal, liquid, and glass. The man floated in the liquid, his body perfectly still, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath he took. His face was peaceful, the harsh lines of stress and worry smoothed away by the stasis.

The neon-blue light reflected off the glass of the pod, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the room. The light flickered across the man’s face, highlighting his strong jawline and the beard on his chin. His hair floated around his head, creating a halo of darkness in the neon-blue glow.

The room buzzed with the noise of life support systems and the occasional beep of the monitors. The serenity stood in stark contrast to the chaos and destruction that lay outside the room. Here, in this neon-blue womb, Rota stood transfixed, her eyes wide with shock and curiosity as she looked at the man in the cryo-stasis pod. This was the first time she had ever seen a man. She had lived her entire life onboard the Ellis space station, populated only by women. The existence of men was something she had never known.

She studied his features, the strong jawline, the hair on his chin, the way his hair floated and curled around his face in the clear liquid. His physique differed from any women she had seen. Leaner and more rugged than what she was used to. It was like discovering a new species, a new type of human that she had never known existed.

And then there was this strange,new emotion welling up from within her. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, a strong, overwhelming desire that left her breathless. She felt a pull towards him, longing to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin against hers. 

This feeling was foreign to her, but it was not frightening. Instead, it filled her with a sense of excitement and curiosity. She was staring at the body in the glass and even though she tried to look away, something inside her compelled to look back and keep looking. It was unabashed voyeurism she was exhibiting, and she derived a strange sense of pleasure from looking at him. She felt fascinated by what she was seeing, and she wanted to know more about him. Where did it come from? Were there others like it? A whole new world had suddenly opened up to her. 

As she stood there, looking at the man in the cryo-stasis pod, Rota realised nothing would be the same after this. This discovery would change everything.

Just as she was processing her discovery, a sudden jolt shook the ship. A deafening roar of solar winds battering against the hull drowned out the drone of the life support systems. The neon-blue light flickered as the ship’s systems struggled to maintain power.

It threw Rota off balance, her body floating helplessly in the environment. She reached out; her gloved hand grasping onto a nearby railing. Her heart raced, the familiar sensation of terror gripping her.

Outside, the cosmos was alive with activity. An immense wave of solar wind, a stream of charged particles released from the upper atmosphere of the sun, was hurtling towards the ship. It was a common phenomenon in space travel, but one that caused significant damage to a ship’s systems.

Inside the cryo-stasis room, alarms blared, warning of the impending danger. The man in the pod seemed oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him, his body still suspended in peaceful slumber.

Rota knew she had to act fast. She quickly made her way to the control panel, her fingers hovering over the buttons as she initiated the door mechanism. The ship shuddered as the hull took the brunt of the solar wind. She sealed herself inside the stasis chamber until the storm passed and the ship fell silent once again. Rota released a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She looked back at the man in the pod with a newfound determination in her eyes. She had a new objective to protect the lone passenger and uncover the secrets that lay within the Costaguana’s walls.

She looked for a way to access the controls for the cryo-pod. Her eyes were drawn to a holographic display on a console. She turned it on, hoping it would give her some clues on how to operate the device. She pressed a button and a flickering image of a man appeared in front of her. He was wearing military fatigues and had a haunted look on his face. He spoke in a low, raspy voice. 

“Hello, whoever you are. If you are seeing this message, it means I am still in cryo-stasis, and you have found my ship, the USS Costaguana. I don’t know who you are or why you are here, but I need your help. My name is Meleager, sergeant in the Saturn IV expeditionary force. I am a member of the crew that was part of a reconnaissance mission. We came under attack by enemy forces just outside the heliopause during our return voyage from the Oort region.”

The Oort region Rota Rota mused, her curiosity piqued. A spherical region of icy pieces of space debris the sizes of mountains and larger. Many of the comets that travel through the solar system originate from there. Rota knew the Oort cloud extended up to one hundred astronomical units from the sun ,or about 1.87 light-years, and it was a dangerous region of chaotic, frothing activity, where magnetic fields fought,  pushed and got tangled up with each other.

The man in the hologram display paused and looked around nervously.

“I have something important to tell you. Listen carefully, we have little time. We might not be alone on this ship. There could be something else onboard with me. Something without fear or remorse and with one purpose. To destroy us.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I need you to revive me and take me to your commanding officer. First, you must activate the nanobot injector in my pod that will restore my physical abilities and provide oxygen to my cells while you activate the backup power generator that will restore the life support system onboard the vessel. You will find the switch hidden underneath the main console behind the pod. Flip the switch and you should see a light turn green. Please hurry. Our lives may depend on it.”

As instructed, Rota tapped frantically at the console on the pod and the one hidden behind it. She heard a loud hissing sound as the air vents opened up and began the slow process of filling the chamber with fresh oxygen. The emergency lighting bathed the room surroundings in an ominous red glow as the ship’s gravity was restored, causing a loud crashing sound to echo across the lower deck. What sounded like a sharp screeching sound came after a crashing of a thousand pieces of debris and other objects. 

She approached the pod and saw the man’s face through the glass. His face looked pale, but peaceful. She looked for a way to open the pod and it drew her attention down to the side control panel and she touched it. The panel lit up yellow and displayed a message: 

“Warning, opening the life-pod. Initiating revival protocols,proceed with caution.”

Rota hesitated for a second before pressing the button that said “Open”. She heard a click as the pod unlocked and a gush as the fluid inside drained out. She watched as the man’s body spasmed and twitched as he regained consciousness and it shivered as his skin contacted the air. The pod glass slid sideways. Rota helped Meleager out of the pod, but she buckled under the pressure of carrying his weight. He was heavier than anyone she had ever tried to carry before. She took a thermal blanket that was placed next to the pod and wrapped it around him. She held him tenderly in her arms. He felt her soft and warm body, but his legs felt heavy and fragile, and he staggered and fell onto her knees. Rota held onto him until his body stopped shivering and she could see him trying to open his eyes. Meleager felt a rush of warmth surge through his veins. He sensed something was changing inside him as the nanobots did their work. It was changing his body and mind, and he could feel it. He felt an arm as someone held him up. Opening his eyes, he could only make out a blur and a faint glow. He blinked and squinted, but he could not see clearly. He saw a shape and a colour, but he could not make out any details.

“I can’t see.‘’ Meleager said, his voice trembling as he spoke.

“You’ve been in hyper-sleep for a long time. You haven’t used your eyes for some time. Your sight will restore once your body has had time to recover,” she replied.

He coughed and gasped as he listened to her voice. Speaking clearly was beyond his strength. He felt disoriented and confused. He noticed one thing about the voice. It differed from any voice and sound he had ever heard before. It was softer and higher than the voices he was used to. He felt a sense of dread as he wondered if the voice was human or a cruel mimic of human sound by the enemy, designed to instil a false sense of security in Meleager before striking him dead. 

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice hesitant and wary. 

“My name is Rota. I’m a pilot. I answered your ship’s distress call.”

An icy shiver ran up Meleager’s spine when he heard her words. He had not sent a distress signal. 

“Now listen to me, Rota. I need you to do what I tell you. Is that understood? There isn’t time to explain everything except we are both in danger right now and if you don’t listen to me, we are both going to die. Do you understand?”

Rota was stunned into silence by the severity of his words. 

“I said, do you understand?” he growled, raising his voice as high as he could.

His voice was stern, loud, and it frightened her.

“Are you carrying any weapons on you?”. He asked, his voice was calm again.; 

“I have a sidearm.” She replied before Meleager cut her off mid sentence.

“That won’t do. You need something with more stopping power.” He raised his finger and pointed to a storage locker at the far side of the cryo-chamber.

“See that locker over there? There’s a rifle inside. An M-44A5 to be exact. It’s a standard-issue assault rifle. Its semi-automatic, shoulder-fired weapon. It’s yours now.”

She walked over to the locker and saw a console screen asking for the security code. 

“There is a code for opening the locker,” she told him. 

“Enter 4-7-2-9-5-4-9. Take out the rifle and check the magazine. You’ll find it’s loaded with 30 rounds.”

“Yes,” she responded after she had verified that the magazine was loaded.

“Good, now you should find some spare magazines in there, too. Feed the magazine into the rifle and load the chamber with a round. On the side of the gun you will see a bolt handle. Pull it back until you hear it click.”

He listened carefully until he heard the click before continuing. 

“Good Rota. you’re doing great. Now the part on top is the scope. You use that to aim. It’s got a laser target, so you just need to point it at anything that moves and pull the trigger. There is a small switch near the trigger. Make sure it’s set to automatic. Make sure the safety is off. , the selector switch is on the lower left side of the lower receiver, near the trigger guard. Push it to the left and you are good to go.”

On her tracker’s visor display, she saw that something was coming closer. The display bleeped in quick beats as the thing on the tracker approached. 

“Never mind that for now, Rota, hear my voice. I need you to be ready.”

“I can’t do this. I’m a pilot, not a soldier!” she gasped. 

“Yes, you can, Rota. You have to. I would do it myself, but right now I can’t see for shit. I need you to be my eyes until we get off this ship. Ok stay with me and focus. I want you to grip the rifle with both hands and keep it close to your body. Use the sling to secure it around your shoulder. Don’t drop or bang it against anything.it’s a delicate piece of equipment.”

“You really expect me to kill this thing by myself?” she shouted, her voice tense.

“You can’t kill it. But you can buy us some time to get the fuck off this ship.”

That last comment, Meleager said, confused her. How did he know she couldn’t kill it? Sure, she wasn’t a soldier with years of combat experience, but she was a fighter pilot and she knew how to handle a weapon and hit a target. She was about to say something when a terrifying roar interrupted her train of thought. 

She turned around and glimpsed something large slithering among the shadows. The alien warrior finally descended into view, uncoiling gracefully, enormous and utterly terrifying. It stood at least eight feet tall, and Meleager could tell from the sound of its thudding footsteps that it was heavy. Stepping out of the shadows, the creature revealed its huge and hideous body. Its hard exoskeleton was long and slender in the abdomen, ending with a small round head filled with razor-sharp teeth. It had two eyes, one on each side of its head, glowing with a crimson light. The creature had six appendages that writhed and slithered like tentacles. Its skin was translucent with a light pinkish hue.

It snarled and charged at the cryo-chamber window. The glass, thick and reinforced, held for a moment under the relentless onslaught. Rota watched helplessly as the window cracked and splintered. Despite the immense force, it did not break. The creature roared and charged again, hitting the window with even more power. This time, the window shattered but did not fall. Once again, the monster backed up and charged headfirst into the chamber door, causing the metal frame to twist under its weight. The window finally collapsed, shattering into a million pieces and showering Meleager and Rota in fragments of glass. The creature then forced its way through the jagged hole it had created.

Rota acted quickly to defend herself from the grotesque beast lunging toward her. She aimed the barrel of her rifle at the center of the attacker’s body to ensure she wouldn’t miss and squeezed the trigger. The rifle, set to a three-round burst mode, erupted in deafening gunfire. The creature leapt onto the ceiling above, and despite the throbbing pain in her ears, Rota persisted in firing at the agile beast. The rifle’s scope laser cast a red line of light, allowing her to keep the alien in her sights. She fired again and again, hitting it in the face and one of its appendages, causing sparks and blood to fly in all directions. The alien, wounded and stunned, fell to the ground, lying motionless on the floor, seemingly dead. The sound of a click echoed as the rifle’s hammer struck an empty chamber.

“You’re out of ammo. Get a fresh magazine in that rifle,” Meleager said.

“What?” Rota replied, her attention drawn like a magnet to the body of the creature. She felt rooted to the spot, frozen in fear. She wanted to scream.

Sensing that Rota was going into shock, Meleager reacted quickly and stepped towards her. 

“We can’t stay here. Reload and let’s move out,” he said. 

Rota watched in horror as the creature’s body twitched slightly. She could see its abdomen pulse and throb. It was still living. She unloaded thirty rounds into the creature, and it was still living. She knew what she was seeing was real, but she couldn’t believe it.

“Rota, we got to go now. Come on!” Meleager roared. 

The creature’s eyes glimmered menacingly as it watched Rota and Meleager leave the chamber. It flipped itself upright and spat a venomous spray in their direction, narrowly missing them. The corrosive spray melted the glass surface of the cryo-pod as if it were butter.

Rota grabbed Meleager by the arm and led him out of the cryo-chamber while the alien pursued them. Rota ran at a frantic pace, but Meleager, his legs still weak, struggled to keep up with her.

“Move it soldier, you want to get out here alive then you need to move your ass,” she screamed at him as they ran through the lower deck corridors, trying to reach the elevator. 

They passed down a dark hallway, the only light coming from flickering fluorescent bulbs hanging overhead. The ship was alive with the sound of consoles chirping, boilers hissing, and other ambient noises. Jets of steam spewed from overhead pipes, making it seem as if the ship itself was working against them. There was no silence to help Rota hear the creature approaching. By chance, she spotted the alien’s reflection on the shiny floor, illuminated by the light as it charged into an antechamber on the right, giving Rota an idea of its location.

Rota and Meleager walked slowly down the hallway, careful to avoid detection. She removed a flare from her pocket, lit it, and threw it down the opposite end of the hallway to her right. The creature charged after it, allowing them to make their escape. They ran as fast as they could until they reached the elevator. Rota tapped frantically at the button and waited for what felt like an eternity for the door to open. She cursed all technology under her breath for not working faster.

When the door finally opened, Rota and Meleager stepped inside and pressed the button for the upper deck. Again, they had to wait for the door to close, praying it wouldn’t take too long. As she turned, she saw the alien bounding toward them, alerted by their footsteps. It hissed and screeched in anger as the elevator doors slowly closed. It slammed its body against the door and wrapped its tentacles around a thin gap, trying to force it open. With significant force, it pried the lift doors apart and tilted its head inside, attempting to grab Rota. She stared into the creature’s hideous face, contorted like a monstrous death mask.

Meleager used his hands to push the door closed, trying to protect Rota with his strength and courage. She screamed and rammed the barrel of her gun deep into the creature’s mouth, then opened fire. The creature’s head exploded, spraying the elevator interior with dark crimson blood. Rota sighed with relief as the doors finally closed and she felt the jolt as the lift ascended to the upper deck.

She convinced herself for a second that the nightmare was over, that they had finally escaped, but she was wrong. The alien had not finished its assault. It used the stinger in its lower abdomen to stab at a loose cable on the underside of the elevator, clinging on with its tentacles. Using its full weight, it tried to burst through the floor of the elevator. Rota and Meleager heard the floor breaking beneath their feet and felt a sudden drop. The creature’s stinger pierced through the floor, prompting Rota to push Meleager aside and press her back against the wall to evade it. She fired several shots into the floor where the stinger appeared.

When the lift doors opened, they both ran toward the docking bay. In the chilling depths of the sprawling dock, Meleager, running blind, struggled to keep up. Seeing his difficulty, Rota took it upon herself to help him. She put his arm around her shoulder and supported his weight as they navigated through the docking bay toward her starfighter. The cold, hard machinery around them hummed ominously. Behind them, the monster advanced, its form a terrifying silhouette against the backdrop of the dock. It moved with a horrifying grace, each step echoing through the vast, empty space.

Despite her own fear and exhaustion, Rota pressed on, her resolve unwavering. She could feel Meleager’s labored breathing, his body growing heavier with each passing moment, but she refused to give in. This was her reality—a chilling game of cat and mouse against an enemy unlike anything she had ever faced.

Battered but not beaten, the couple reached the starfighter. With Meleager’s arm draped over her shoulder, Rota helped him into the cockpit. The controls lit up at her touch, the familiar hum of the engines a comforting sound in the otherwise silent dock.

Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a chilling sound echoed through the dock. The alien, with terrifying agility, had managed to climb onto the starfighter. Its glowing eyes were visible through the reinforced glass of the cockpit, its hideous form a stark contrast against the sleek design of the starfighter.

The alien unleashed its attack, targeting the cockpit window. Its sharp mandibles scratched against the glass, and it pressed its elongated head against the window, baring its sharp teeth as it tried to break through by head-butting the pane.

Inside the cockpit, Rota could only watch as the creature continued its assault. The reinforced glass held, but the sight of the alien so close, every feature visible in detail, added to the tension of the moment.

Like a natural reflex to the danger, Rota initiated the starfighter’s launch sequence. The engines roared to life as the dock doors opened, revealing the vast expanse of space outside. The creature, with its tentacles, managed to cling onto Rota’s craft. The suction cups on its tentacles allowed it to stick to the ship, refusing to let go.

Rota, with her advanced piloting skills, seized the controls. The starfighter responded to her touch as if it were an extension of her hand. With a deafening roar, the craft’s engines ignited with power and precision, reverberating through the confines of the docking bay.

In an explosive burst of speed, the starfighter catapulted forward, tearing through the open doors of the dock with a force that rattled the very foundations of the Costaguana. The space outside became a blur, the boundaries of space and time warping as they hurtled into the cosmos.

With the alien clinging to her ship, Rota knew she had to act fast. Her hands danced over the controls, her fingers moving with a precision and speed hard-wired into her very being. She initiated a series of complex maneuvers, pushing the starfighter’s capabilities to the limit.

First, she executed a sharp ascent, the starfighter shooting upwards into the void. The sudden change in direction caused the alien to lose its footing, but its suction-cupped tentacles held firm.

Next, Rota sent the starfighter into a spiraling descent, the rapid rotation creating a centrifugal force that threatened to tear the creature from the ship. The monster’s tentacles flailed wildly as it struggled to maintain its grip.

But Rota wasn’t done yet. She then engaged the starfighter’s thrusters to their maximum capacity, the sudden acceleration pressing them back into their seats.

The creature, despite its tenacity, was not built for such extreme conditions. Its grip began to falter, its tentacles slipping from the starfighter’s hull. Then, with one final, powerful thrust, Rota shook the creature off.

The monster was sent tumbling into the depths of space, its form growing smaller until it was swallowed by the darkness.

The g-force pressure of such breakneck acceleration was a relentless force that sought to crush the uninitiated under its weight. It was an intense and unbearable sensation for Meleager, like being thrust against an invisible wall that threatened to consume him. Unaccustomed to the brutal reality of high-speed space flight, Meleager succumbed to the overwhelming force. His vision, already blurred, darkened. His body went limp, surrendering to unconsciousness.

Rota continued her relentless flight through the abyss of space, heading back to the only place she knew she would be safe: home.

Authors Note : Thank you to those who took the time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it and I was able to provide you some entertainment.