The Last Signal

The stars twinkled faintly against the vast blackness of space, an endless expanse that made even the largest starships seem insignificant. Captain Mira Lorne stood on the bridge of the Eclipse, staring out at the void through the viewport, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Any sign of them?” she asked, her voice low and tense.

Lieutenant Harris shook his head, his fingers flying across the control panel. “Still no signal, Captain. It’s been three days since they went dark.”

Mira clenched her jaw. Three days without contact from the Celestia, the only other ship on this mission. It wasn’t just the silence that unnerved her—it was where they were. The coordinates had taken them to the edge of the Perseus Rift, a region of space notorious for its strange gravitational anomalies and distorted signals. No one ventured here unless they had no choice.

And they had no choice.

“Keep scanning,” Mira ordered. “We don’t leave until we find them.”

“Yes, Captain,” Harris replied, though his voice was thick with doubt.

As he worked, the soft hum of the ship’s engines filled the silence. Mira’s mind raced, trying to piece together what could have happened. The Celestia had been investigating a mysterious signal coming from within the Rift—an old, forgotten signal from Earth, one that shouldn’t have existed out here, thousands of light-years from home. The mission had been simple: find the source, analyze it, and report back. But something had gone wrong.

“Captain,” Harris said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. “We’ve got something.”

Mira turned sharply toward him. “What is it?”

“A faint signal, on the same frequency as the Celestia’s emergency beacon. But it’s weak, barely there.”

“Put it through,” she ordered.

Harris nodded, pressing a few buttons, and suddenly, the bridge filled with the crackling sound of static. Then, buried beneath the noise, a voice.

“—anyone… this is Commander Reyes of the Celestia… trapped in the Rift… systems failing… repeat, systems failing…”

Mira’s heart raced. Reyes was still alive. “Can you boost the signal?”

“I’m trying,” Harris muttered, adjusting the controls. The signal cleared slightly, but the static persisted.

“Commander Reyes, this is Captain Lorne of the Eclipse. Do you copy?” Mira spoke into the comm, her voice steady but urgent.

For a moment, there was no response. Then, Reyes’ voice broke through again, strained and distorted.

“Mira? Is that you? We’re… caught… Rift… something… pulling us…”

“Reyes, hold on,” Mira said quickly. “We’re coming to get you.”

“No!” Reyes’ voice came through, sharp and panicked. “You don’t understand. It’s not just the Rift. There’s something here… something alive.”

Mira’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean, alive?”

“There’s… an intelligence. It’s not human, but it’s old, ancient. It’s been waiting, and now… it’s using the Rift to trap us. Don’t… don’t come any closer. It wants you too.”

Static overtook the signal, drowning out his voice entirely.

Mira exchanged a glance with Harris, his face pale under the dim bridge lights.

“Captain… what do we do?” he asked quietly.

Mira stood frozen for a moment, staring at the crackling comms, her mind racing. If what Reyes said was true, the Celestia wasn’t just lost in a spatial anomaly—they were in the grip of something far worse. Something they didn’t understand.

“We can’t leave them,” Mira said finally, her voice resolute. “Prepare to engage thrusters. We’re going in.”

Harris hesitated, his hand hovering over the controls. “But, Captain, if Reyes is right—”

“If Reyes is right, we’re their only chance,” Mira cut in. “We don’t abandon our own.”

Reluctantly, Harris nodded and keyed in the commands. The Eclipse shuddered slightly as the engines powered up, propelling them forward into the eerie depths of the Perseus Rift.

As the ship approached the swirling mass of energy ahead, Mira felt the atmosphere change. The lights flickered, the hum of the engines growing deeper, as if something unseen was pressing down on them. It was subtle at first, but the sensation of being watched became undeniable.

“Captain…” Harris’ voice was barely above a whisper. “I think… I think it knows we’re here.”

Mira’s grip on the armrest tightened. “Stay focused. We have a mission.”

Suddenly, the ship’s systems flickered, and the bridge was plunged into darkness. The hum of the engines faltered, and Mira’s heart pounded in her chest as she strained to see in the sudden blackout.

“Harris!” she called out, her voice echoing in the dark.

“I’m trying!” he replied, frantically tapping at the darkened control panel. “Everything’s gone offline!”

Just then, a faint light flickered on the viewport. Mira’s breath caught in her throat as she stared out into the void. Through the swirling mists of the Rift, she saw it—a vast, shadowy shape, shifting and pulsating, its form indescribable. It wasn’t a ship. It wasn’t anything human.

It was alive.

The signal crackled back to life, louder now, more urgent. Reyes’ voice came through once more, filled with fear and resignation.

“Mira… it’s too late… it’s everywhere…”

Then, silence.

Mira stared into the blackness, her heart heavy with the realization that they were no longer in control. Whatever was in the Rift had found them.

And it wasn’t letting go.