Robyn Michaels
The ship Iron Resolve hummed with subdued energy, its sleek, patchwork hull a testament to human tenacity. Captain Malik Osei, a towering man with deep brown skin and a shaved head glistening under the dim glow of the bridge lights, stared at the swirling vortex on the viewport. His dark eyes burned with unyielding resolve. The Rift loomed ahead—a churning nexus of unstable space, a death sentence to most who dared venture near.
“Sir, Rift stability’s at thirty percent,” chirped Sassafras—the ship’s cheeky AI, affectionately nicknamed Sassy. Her holographic avatar, a humanoid figure with a floating head, materialized beside him. “Just saying, this plan? Bonkers.”
Malik smirked. “We’ve survived worse.”
“True,” Sassy replied, crossing her glowing arms. “But a one-man assault on the Kryloxian dreadnought parked inside? Even by your standards, that’s suicidal.”
Malik didn’t reply. His target, the Vorath Sceptre, was hidden within the Rift, shielded by the chaotic spatial currents. It was Kryloxian tech that had obliterated the human colony on Acheron-4—his home. Acheron’s defenders never stood a chance. Malik’s wife and daughter had been among the first casualties.
Now, Kryloxians whispered Malik’s name with fear. He’d made it his mission to be their reckoning. The Vorath Sceptre was his final stop.
The Rift greeted the Iron Resolve with feral hostility. Gravitational shears and magnetic surges battered the ship. Malik gripped the console as warning lights flashed.
“Stabilizers holding… barely,” Sassy said. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the ship crumples like a tin can.”
“Plenty of time,” Malik said, fastening his helmet. He slung his pack—a compact arsenal of human ingenuity—over one shoulder. The mission required him to infiltrate the Vorath Sceptre alone; Sassy would keep the Iron Resolve positioned at the Rift’s edge for extraction.
“Malik,” Sassy said, her voice softer. “Don’t let this obsession get you killed.”
“I’ve got something those crystalline bastards don’t,” Malik said, pulling on his gloves. “A reason to survive.”
The Iron Resolve lurched as Malik launched the boarding pod. Encased in its titanium shell, he hurtled through the chaos, his pulse steady, his mind focused. The pod’s rudimentary shield held, guiding him toward the Vorath Sceptre’s energy signature.
The Kryloxian dreadnought was a fortress of crystalline spires and shimmering light, its structure constantly shifting like a living entity. Kryloxians, beings of semi-solid crystal, communicated through flashes of colour and vibrations—a language no human had cracked. Malik didn’t need words. His message would be written in fire.
He landed in the ship’s maintenance bay with a metallic clang. The Kryloxians had not anticipated a human to breach their stronghold, let alone one as determined as Malik.
The Vorath Sceptre’s interior was a labyrinth of glowing corridors and shifting walls. Malik activated his boots’ magnetic soles, countering the disorienting effects of the fluctuating gravity. His suit’s HUD scanned for energy spikes indicative of critical systems.
A Kryloxian patrol shimmered into view. Their faceted bodies refracted light, giving them an almost angelic appearance. Malik’s lip curled. He raised his railgun—human engineering at its finest. One compressed tungsten round shattered the lead Kryloxian into shards.
The others flashed crimson—a signal of alarm—and surged forward. Malik hurled an EMP grenade, its electromagnetic pulse disrupting their cohesion. They collapsed into inert crystals.
“Clear,” Malik muttered, stepping over the debris.
“Efficient as always,” Sassy chimed in via his comm. “You know, for a ‘fragile’ species, you’re really good at breaking things.”
“Focus, Sassy.”
As Malik pressed deeper, the ship seemed to resist him. Pathways closed behind him, forcing him forward. The Rift’s turbulence seeped into the dreadnought, making its crystalline walls pulse erratically.
Finally, he reached the core chamber—a vast, cathedral-like space with a colossal crystal at its heart, pulsating with energy. This was the Vorath Sceptre’s brain, its heart, and its pride. Destroying it would cripple the Kryloxian fleet.
Malik planted charges around the room, each one meticulously designed to disrupt the crystal’s molecular integrity. As he set the final charge, a voice—not his own—filled his head.
“Human. Why?”
Malik froze. Kryloxians were telepathic? That wasn’t in any of the intel.
“Why did you destroy Acheron-4?” he snarled aloud, unsure if it could hear his words.
The voice resonated with a mixture of confusion and arrogance. “Resources. Efficiency. You are inefficient.”
Malik’s laughter was bitter. “Inefficient? We rebuilt our lives from ash and dust. We survived your war machines with nothing but grit and wits. Tell me, crystal-bastard, where’s the inefficiency in that?”
The chamber grew brighter, the crystal pulsing angrily. “Your kind disrupts. Consumes. Corrupts.”
“And yet,” Malik said, “here I am. Alive. Fighting.”
“You will die.”
“Maybe,” Malik said, activating the detonator. “But so will you.”
The charges erupted, sending shockwaves through the core. Cracks spidered across the massive crystal as its energy spiralled out of control. The ship groaned, its structure faltering. Malik sprinted back through the labyrinth as the Vorath Sceptre began to collapse.
Kryloxians emerged, desperate to stop him, but Malik’s speed and unpredictability—a hallmark of humanity—gave him the edge. He slid under closing bulkheads, leapt over barriers, and outmanoeuvred his crystalline pursuers.
The boarding pod launched just as the Vorath Sceptre imploded, a supernova of light and shards. Malik’s pod barely escaped the shockwave, tumbling toward the Iron Resolve. Sassy’s tractor beam locked onto him, pulling him aboard.
As the Rift consumed the wreckage, Malik collapsed onto the deck, breathing heavily. Sassy’s avatar appeared, her usually sassy demeanour replaced by quiet relief.
“You’re insane, you know that?”
“Maybe,” Malik said, removing his helmet. “But it’s done.”
Back on the bridge, Malik stared out at the Rift, now eerily calm. Acheron-4’s memory still haunted him, but for the first time, the weight felt lighter.
“Sassy,” he said, “plot a course to the nearest neutral zone.”
“What’s next, Captain?”
Malik’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “We rebuild.”
The Rift, once a place of despair, now symbolised something else: resilience. As long as humanity endured, no force—Kryloxian or otherwise—could snuff out their spirit.
Endless Horizons 