Callum Ralph
The ship was dying.
Kye Adrin stood on the bridge of the Zephyr’s Grasp, watching the systems flicker and fail one by one. The ancient cargo freighter had carried him through the Scatterverse for over a decade, a reliable, if temperamental, companion. Now, after a catastrophic engine breach, it drifted through a stretch of uncharted space—a dark expanse with no FTL beacons, no trade lanes, and no hope of rescue.
“Echo, give me something,” Kye muttered, gripping the console.
The ship’s AI sparked to life, its voice strained. “Power reserves at 7%. Engines offline. Life support failing in…” it paused, processing, “…thirty-six hours.”
Kye swore under his breath. Thirty-six hours wasn’t long enough for a distress call to reach anyone in this forgotten corner of the universe.
He leaned back in his seat, staring out at the vast emptiness. For the first time in years, he felt truly alone.
Then, the signal came.
It was faint at first—a whisper buried in static. Kye almost dismissed it as background noise, but something about its rhythm caught his attention.
“Echo, isolate that signal.”
The AI complied, pulling the sound from the static and amplifying it. The result was a series of tones, evenly spaced and deliberate.
“Morse code?” Kye asked aloud, incredulous.
“Negative,” Echo replied. “The pattern is non-human. Likely artificial but not immediately recognizable as Scatterverse technology.”
“Source?”
“Triangulating…” Echo paused. “Approximately 1.2 light-years away. A derelict object of unknown origin.”
Kye frowned. A derelict could mean anything—a dead ship, a piece of debris, or something far worse. But it was his only lead.
“Can we make it?”
“Barely,” Echo said. “Rerouting remaining power to navigation systems will reduce life support to…” another pause, “…eighteen hours.”
Kye considered his options. Stay put and die, or risk everything on a long shot. The choice was obvious.
“Do it,” he said.
The journey was tense, the Zephyr’s Grasp rattling like a ghost in its final moments. Kye watched the power levels drop steadily, his breath visible in the cold air as life support dwindled.
Finally, the object came into view.
It wasn’t a ship.
Suspended in the void was a vast, ring-shaped structure, its surface covered in alien glyphs that pulsed faintly with golden light.
“What is that?” Kye whispered.
Echo’s voice trembled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. “No records found. This is a first contact scenario.”
Kye’s chest tightened. First contact meant unknown risks. But it also meant possibilities.
“Is the signal coming from inside?”
“Affirmative.”
Kye suited up, his breath shallow as he prepared to leave the ship.
The structure was massive, its surface smooth and unnervingly cold. Kye maneuvered through a breach in the ring, his EVA suit’s thrusters sputtering as he drifted into the interior.
Inside, the glyphs glowed brighter, casting the chamber in an ethereal light. At its center floated a device—a crystalline sphere encased in a lattice of shifting metal. The signal emanated from it, a low hum that resonated in Kye’s chest.
“Echo, analysis?”
“Unknown,” the AI replied. “The technology is beyond Scatterverse classification. But the energy readings suggest a power source capable of sustaining your ship indefinitely.”
Kye’s heart raced. The device was salvation, a way to escape the void. But it was also alien, and that made it dangerous.
“What’s the catch?” he muttered.
As if in answer, the glyphs on the walls began to shift. They rearranged themselves into shapes that Kye recognized—stars, planets, and what looked like Scatterverse trade lanes.
“It’s a map,” he realized.
Echo confirmed. “These coordinates trace paths through the uncharted sectors of the Scatterverse. If accurate, this could revolutionize navigation.”
Kye’s pulse quickened. A map of the unknown. The device wasn’t just a lifeline; it was a key to the Scatterverse’s greatest mysteries.
But as he reached for it, the hum grew louder, and a voice echoed in his mind.
“Why have you come?”
Kye froze. “Who’s there?”
“You are the first in millennia to find us. What do you seek?”
The voice wasn’t hostile, but it carried a weight that pressed against Kye’s thoughts.
“I need power to save my ship,” he said, his voice trembling. “That’s all.”
The glyphs shifted again, forming a new pattern—images of civilizations rising and falling, of ships lost in the void, of explorers who had come before him and failed.
“The power you seek comes at a cost,” the voice said. “To take it is to bear its burden.”
“What burden?”
“Knowledge,” the voice replied. “Of what lies beyond the Scatterverse. And the choice to act on it—or remain silent.”
Kye stared at the device, his mind racing. The energy could save his ship, but it came with a responsibility he wasn’t sure he wanted.
“Echo,” he said, “what happens if I take it?”
The AI was silent for a moment. “Based on available data, the device could sustain your ship indefinitely. However, its effects on you—or the Scatterverse—are unpredictable.”
The voice spoke again. “You cannot undo what you learn. To take this knowledge is to change everything.”
Kye hesitated. He thought of his life—of the years spent hauling cargo, of the battles he’d fought to protect fleeting causes, of the emptiness he felt now, drifting alone in a dying ship.
“Someone has to know,” he said finally.
He reached for the device.
The moment he touched it, the chamber flooded with light. Kye saw visions—stars collapsing into black holes, galaxies colliding, and a Scatterverse far more vast and interconnected than he had ever imagined.
The knowledge was overwhelming, but it was also beautiful.
When the light faded, the device was gone, and Kye was back aboard the Zephyr’s Grasp. The ship’s systems hummed with newfound energy, and Echo’s voice was calm and steady.
“Power restored,” she said.
Kye slumped in his chair, exhausted but alive.
“Did it work?” he asked.
Echo hesitated. “Yes. But there’s… something else.”
“What do you mean?”
“The map,” she said. “It’s in our systems now. And it’s broadcasting.”
Kye’s stomach dropped. “Broadcasting to who?”
“I don’t know,” Echo replied. “But they’re listening.”
As the Zephyr’s Grasp powered up and prepared to leave the void, Kye stared out at the ring-shaped structure one last time.
The Scatterverse was no longer just a collection of distant stars and struggling civilizations. It was part of something larger—something watching, waiting, and, perhaps, preparing.
Kye knew he had changed everything. But whether for better or worse, he couldn’t yet say.
Endless Horizons 