A Beacon in the Shadows

Episode 2: A Beacon in the Shadows

The Solar Destiny drifted quietly through the void, its engines a soft hum beneath the tense silence of the bridge. The dying moon loomed ahead, its surface scarred by ancient impacts and atmospheric decay. Thin wisps of cloud swirled over its barren plains, tinged a sickly yellow from the toxic gases rising from its fissured crust.

“Relay station is just ahead,” Nira said, her voice breaking the quiet. She leaned forward in her seat, her sharp gaze fixed on her console. “But I’m not picking up any signals. The place is dead silent.”

“Not a good sign,” Elendril said, his golden eyes narrowing. He stood behind Coren, who adjusted the ship’s trajectory with a steady hand. “We’ll go in cautiously. Coren, take us down.”

Coren nodded, his focus unwavering. The ship descended through the thin atmosphere, the moon’s surface expanding in the viewport. Jagged craters and twisted rock formations cast long shadows in the dim light of the distant star. The relay station came into view: a cluster of dilapidated structures nestled against a ridge, their metallic surfaces dulled by corrosion and neglect.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Bolen muttered, his arms crossed as he leaned against the bulkhead. “Maybe they abandoned it.”

“Or worse,” Nira added, her tone grim. “Itherians don’t leave things like this alone for long.”

The Solar Destiny landed softly on a flat stretch of ground near the station. As the engines powered down, the crew gathered in the cramped airlock, securing their gear.

“All right,” Elendril said, his voice firm. “We’re here to restore communications and figure out what happened. Stay sharp, and don’t take unnecessary risks.”

Arren adjusted the strap of his satchel, which still carried the artifact. “What if the station holds more clues about this thing?” he asked, his excitement tempered by caution.

“Then we’ll take a look,” Elendril replied. “But the mission comes first.”

The airlock hissed open, and the crew stepped out onto the moon’s surface. The ground crunched beneath their boots, the brittle rock flaking into dust. The air was thin and cold, and their breaths fogged in the faint light. The station loomed ahead, its structures casting eerie shadows that danced with the flickering glow of their helmet lights.

Inside, the station was eerily silent. The walls were lined with rusted terminals, their screens dark. Papers and tools were scattered across the floor, as if the occupants had left in a hurry.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Bolen muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sidearm.

“Focus,” Elendril said. He gestured toward the central console, a massive piece of equipment covered in dust and grime. “Nira, see if you can get this thing working.”

Nira nodded and knelt by the console, her fingers deftly prying open a panel. Sparks flew as she reconnected wires, her brow furrowed in concentration. “This thing’s ancient,” she said. “But I think I can get it running.”

As she worked, Arren wandered toward a nearby room, drawn by a faint glimmer in the corner. “Captain, I think I found something,” he called out.

Elendril followed, his hand resting lightly on his weapon. The room was small and cluttered, but in the corner lay a resistance fighter, barely alive. Their uniform was tattered, and their breathing was shallow. Clutched in their hand was a data chip, its surface scratched but intact.

“They’re alive,” Elendril said, crouching down to check their pulse. He glanced back at the doorway. “We need to get them out of here. Bolen, bring the medkit.”

Arren knelt beside the survivor, his voice urgent. “Captain, they’re muttering something… coordinates.”

“Looks like they tried to protect this,” Elendril said, taking the chip and slipping it into a pouch. “Let’s hope it has answers. Arren, help me stabilize them.”

A sudden noise echoed through the station—a metallic clang that reverberated through the empty halls. The crew froze, their hands moving to their weapons.

“Ambush,” Nira hissed, drawing her blaster. The shadows seemed to shift as figures emerged, their dark armor gleaming faintly in the dim light. Itherian saboteurs.

“Bolen, cover Nira!” Elendril shouted, raising his weapon. “Coren, Arren, get the survivor to the ship!”

The station erupted into chaos as blaster fire lit up the darkness. Bolen and Nira held their ground, their shots precise as they provided cover. Coren and Arren carefully carried the survivor, ducking behind a rusted console as laser fire scorched the walls.

Arren clutched the artifact tightly, its faint glow pulsing in time with his racing heart. “Captain!” he called out. “The artifact—it’s reacting to something!”

“Not now, Arren!” Elendril barked, firing a shot that struck an Itherian square in the chest. The saboteur crumpled to the ground, their weapon clattering across the floor.

The battle was swift but brutal. When the dust settled, the Itherians lay defeated, their bodies sprawled across the station’s cold floor. The crew regrouped, their breaths heavy as they assessed the damage.

“You all right?” Elendril asked, his gaze sweeping over the team. They nodded, their faces pale but determined.

Nira approached the central console, her expression grim. “I managed to get the relay working,” she said. “But the signal’s weak. We’ll need to boost it if we want to send anything out.”

Elendril handed her the data chip. “See if you can access this. It might tell us what the Itherians were after.”

As Nira worked, the rest of the crew secured the station, their movements quick and methodical. The air was thick with tension, but also a sense of accomplishment. They had survived the ambush, but the mystery of the artifact—and the danger it brought—was far from over.

“Captain,” Nira said, her voice tight with urgency. “The data chip—it’s got coordinates. Another artifact. But the intel says it’s being watched. Black-market forces and Itherian spies.”

Before Elendril could respond, Nira’s console beeped sharply. “Captain, we’ve got incoming. An Itherian fleet just entered the system. They’re scanning the moon.”

Elendril’s golden eyes hardened. “Then we’ll need help. Nira, do you still have contacts on the planet below?”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “A Vaalbaran doctor named Kroida. He worked with the resistance but had a reputation for being brusque and clinical, his demeanor a stark contrast to his life-saving expertise. If anyone could provide the urgent care their survivor needed and help them evade the Itherian fleet, it was him.

“Let’s hope he’s in a helpful mood,” Nira muttered under her breath as the Solar Destiny descended toward the planet’s surface.

The ship landed under the cover of darkness near a rugged outpost carved into the base of a rocky cliff. The air was thick with moisture, a stark contrast to the barren moon above. Elendril led the crew as they carried the wounded survivor toward a dimly lit structure nestled within the outpost’s shadows.

Kroida appeared in the doorway, his tall, slender frame silhouetted against the faint glow of an interior lamp. His scaled skin shimmered faintly, hues of deep green and bronze shifting with his movements. His sharp, vertical pupils narrowed as he studied the crew, his voice clipped and precise. “Nira,” he said. “You’ve brought trouble. Again.”

“Nice to see you too, Kroida,” Nira replied, her tone dry but tinged with familiarity. “We need your help.”

Kroida’s eyes flicked to the injured resistance fighter. He stepped aside, gesturing them in with a flick of his long, clawed hand. “Bring them in. Quickly. And don’t touch anything.”

Inside, the room was a stark contrast to the rugged exterior—clean and sterile, with advanced medical equipment lining the walls. Kroida moved with fluid precision, already scanning the survivor with a handheld device. “Toxic exposure,” he muttered. “Internal injuries. Severe, but manageable.”

Elendril stepped forward. “We also need a place to lay low. The Itherians are scanning the moon.”

Kroida glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “I’m aware. They’ve already sent patrols to the surface. If they find you here, I’ll be executed along with you.”

“Then it’s in both our interests to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Elendril replied evenly. “We’ll be gone as soon as our survivor is stable.”

Kroida exhaled sharply, his slit pupils narrowing further. “Fine. But keep out of my way.”

As the crew settled in, the hum of Kroida’s medical equipment filled the room. Nira watched him work, her arms crossed. “Still the same old Kroida,” she said softly. “Always pretending not to care.”

Kroida didn’t look up. “Caring doesn’t keep you alive, Nira. Competence does.”

The journey to the lake system was tense but uneventful, the crew maneuvering the Solar Destiny through thick patches of atmospheric interference to avoid Itherian patrols. When they finally reached the secluded lakes, the sight of the shimmering water against the barren landscape was almost surreal.

Awan stirred as the ship landed, his bioluminescent patterns flickering weakly but steadily now. Elendril crouched beside him. “You’re awake,” he said, his tone gentle but measured.

Awan’s webbed fingers twitched as he turned his translucent eyes toward the captain. “Thank you,” he said, his voice melodic yet strained. “You’ve done more than I could have hoped.”

Elendril nodded. “Let’s get you into the water. You need to recover.”

The crew carefully helped Awan to the lake’s edge. As soon as his feet touched the water, his body seemed to relax, the glow of his patterns intensifying. He waded deeper, submerging himself for several moments before emerging, his breathing steadier and his posture more confident.

“I owe you my life,” Awan said, standing waist-deep in the water. “But I have something you need to know. The artifact you carry—there is another like it. I was transporting the coordinates when our cell was attacked. The Itherians want it because it holds a key, a way to unlock something ancient and powerful. But they’re not the only ones watching.”

Arren, who had been listening intently, stepped closer. “What do you mean, not the only ones?”

Awan’s gaze turned somber. “There are black-market operatives, scavengers who trade in rare and dangerous relics. They’ve been tracking movements like ours, waiting for opportunities. The coordinates I carried lead to a site where another artifact is hidden. If you go, you’ll face both the Itherians and those who would sell it to the highest bidder.”

Nira crossed her arms, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Where is this site?”

Awan gestured to the horizon. “It’s far, but not unreachable. I’ve marked the location on the chip you retrieved. It’s up to you whether to pursue it.”

Elendril nodded, his golden eyes thoughtful. “And what about you? Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

Awan hesitated before replying. “My cell is gone, burned by the Itherians. But there’s another resistance outpost nearby—one that operates in the shadows. If you could take me there, I can still fight.”

Elendril glanced at the crew, who each gave subtle nods of agreement. “We’ll get you there,” he said. “Let’s finish this, together.”

The Solar Destiny crew remained on edge as the faint hum of the Itherian fleet scanners reached even this isolated outpost. Kroida moved quickly, finishing his treatment of the injured resistance fighter with practiced precision. Arren paced near the artifact, glancing at it as though it might offer a solution.

Finally, he stopped and turned to Elendril. “Captain, I’ve been working on something that might help both us and Kroida avoid detection. It’s risky, but it could work.”

“What do you have in mind?” Elendril asked, his tone wary but curious.

Arren pulled a small device from his satchel—a signal disruptor prototype. “If we plant this near the outpost’s comms relay, it could mask the signals the Itherians are looking for. It’ll buy us time to escape and keep Kroida safe afterward. But I’ll need to integrate it into the existing systems quickly.”

Kroida, overhearing, tilted his head. “If this fails, you’ll draw them straight to me.”

“It won’t fail,” Arren said confidently. “But I’ll need a clear path to the relay to set it up.”

Elendril nodded. “Bolen, Nira—go with him. Coren and I will prepare the ship for a fast exit.”

Under the cover of darkness, Arren and his team made their way to the relay. The installation process was tense, every creak of the structure and distant hum of Itherian patrol ships heightening their nerves. Finally, Arren activated the disruptor, its faint hum blending seamlessly with the natural interference of the area.

“Done,” he said, exhaling sharply. “Let’s get out of here.”

The team returned to the outpost just as the Itherian scanners intensified. Kroida checked the disruptor’s signal through his equipment, his expression impassive but his tone almost approving. “It’s working. You’ve bought us time.”

Elendril extended a hand. “Consider it a thank-you for helping us.”

Kroida hesitated but finally clasped Elendril’s hand briefly. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The Solar Destiny lifted off moments later, its engines whisper-quiet as it ascended into the void. Below, Kroida watched the ship disappear, his expression unreadable as the disruptor continued its subtle work, shielding his outpost from detection.

As the Solar Destiny ascended, a sharp, piercing tone rang through the comms. Nira’s console lit up with a flurry of warnings, her fingers darting across the controls.

“Captain,” she said, her voice tight. “We’ve got a problem. The disruptor’s signal—it's interfering with the artifact.”

Arren turned pale. “The artifact’s resonance… it’s amplifying the signal. If the Itherians detect it, they’ll know exactly where we are.”

Elendril’s jaw tightened, his golden eyes scanning the crew. “Shut it down. Now.”

Before Arren could respond, the artifact pulsed violently, sending a wave of light through the ship. A distant voice echoed faintly from the artifact, words indecipherable but chilling. The Solar Destiny shuddered as the lights flickered.

“Captain,” Coren shouted from the helm, “Itherian ships—three of them—just dropped out of lightfold directly ahead!”

Elendril steadied himself against the railing, his voice calm but firm. “Brace for evasive maneuvers. Nira, get me a clear path. Coren, take us to the edge.”

The crew moved in tense synchronization as the artifact’s pulse slowed but continued to glow ominously.

- to be continued -