Page 24 of Nebula Hearts
My light cuts through the darkness. The passage is reinforced with rusting prefab panels and exposed conduit. Standard colonial survey outpost design.
“I’m inside,” I report. “It’s a standard colonial outpost, alright. Looks like they left in a hurry.”
“Any structural damage?”
I check my scanner. “Some stress fractures, but the main storage chamber looks stable. No unusual energy readings.”
The passage opens into a larger chamber. Metal crates are stacked against one wall, stenciled with old colony logos. Flickering emergency lights cast long, dancing shadows.
“Jackpot,” I breathe. “This is definitely their old supply depot.”
“Can you identify what you need?”
“Working on it.” I approach the nearest crate, checking the manifest stenciled on its side. “Tertiary Coupling Connectors, Mk4 Standard.” I grin. “Bingo.”
The crate seal releases with a hiss of stale air. Inside, components are nestled in protective foam. I pull out what looks like a connector assembly. My scanner confirms a perfect match. It’s the same component, just an earlier production run. “Thank the fusion gods for bureaucratic redundancy.”
For the first time in hours, my lungs remember how to breathe. I let the connector rest in my hand for a second longer, feel the weight of it. The solution, the answer, the stupid little piece of alloy that might save the colony. Might save him. A breath hitches in my throat, uninvited. I picture Tynrax back at the ship, jaw set, pacing, probably running diagnostics he doesn’t trust me to run alone. The thought makes me smile, faintly. Just for a second. Just long enough to almost believe we’ll make it. And then, the clicking starts.
“Got it. Heading back now.”
That’s when I hear the sound.
Not loud. Just a soft click. Then another. Multiple sources. Coming from the shadowed corners of the chamber.
“Tynrax?”
“I’m here.”
“I think I have company.”
The clicking gets louder. Closer. I swing myself toward the sound and see movement. Low to the ground. Multiple shapes flowing toward me from behind the crates. They must have been nesting here. I disturbed them.
“Aris, what’s happening?”
“Predators. Maybe a dozen.” I back toward the chamber entrance, pulling my sonic stunner. “I’m leaving. Now.”
The creatures flow into the open. Six-legged, sleek, and fast. Their carapaces are dark, built for speed. They spread out, flanking me, cutting off my retreat.
“Tynrax, I’m trapped. I can’t get past them. There’s too many.”
“Hold position. I’m coming.”
His voice over the comm is flat, but I know what’s happening. The fear. My fear, echoing in his mind. That’s the trigger. More dangerous than any ancient field.
“No! You can’t. The main ruins, the field...”
“I’m already moving.”
The comm goes quiet. Nothing but static.
The creatures circle closer. I fire. The sonic blast hits one’s carapace with a dull thud. It doesn’t even slow down. I fire again, backing up until my shoulders hit the cold metal wall. I’m cornered.
“Come on, Tynrax,” I whisper. “Where are you?”
The creatures close in.
The stunner whines. Eight charges left.
