The Black Comet
January 24, 2025
The comet was first spotted three months ago. An anomaly, the astronomers had called it—pitch black, absorbing light like a hole in space. But now it was here, a dark blot against the stars, its tail of shimmering obsidian streaking the night sky.
Dr. Mara Quinn stared out the viewing window of the Stellar Ark, a deep-space research station on the edge of the solar system. The comet loomed ominously, larger than anyone had anticipated.
“Telemetry update, Dr. Quinn,” said Lieutenant Pierce over her comms. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of tension.
“I’m watching it, Pierce,” she replied, her hand gripping the edge of the console. “It’s still on course, right toward us.”
Pierce hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. ETA: six hours. The anomaly’s energy readings are… escalating.”
“What kind of escalation?”
“Unclear. It’s almost like it’s… reacting to us.”
Mara’s stomach tightened. She tapped the comm. “Alert the crew to prepare for full lockdown. I’m heading to the lab.”
The lab was a chaos of holographic projections and blinking monitors. The team was gathered around the central console, analyzing the data streaming in from the comet.
“Dr. Quinn,” said Alice, one of the junior researchers, “you need to see this.”
Alice gestured to a screen showing a magnified image of the comet’s surface. Dark, jagged structures jutted out, forming unnatural, spire-like shapes.
“That’s not rock,” Mara said, her voice low.
“No, ma’am,” Alice replied. “It’s organic.”
Before Mara could respond, the station’s alarms blared.
“Warning,” the AI intoned. “Unidentified energy surge detected.”
The station shuddered, and the lights flickered. Mara grabbed the console for balance as Pierce’s voice crackled over the intercom.
“Dr. Quinn, the comet’s releasing… something. A pulse. It’s heading right for us!”
“Shields up!” Mara shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
The pulse hit the station a moment later. The walls trembled, and a low, resonant hum filled the air. Then, silence.
“Status report!” Mara demanded.
The AI responded. “No structural damage detected. Systems operational.”
Alice pointed to another screen. “Dr. Quinn… the comet. It’s… stopped.”
Mara frowned. “Stopped? In space?”
Alice nodded. “And there’s more. The energy readings are off the charts. It’s like… it’s watching us.”
The words sent a chill down Mara’s spine. She turned to the crew. “Prepare a probe. We need more data.”
The probe launched smoothly, navigating toward the comet’s dark surface. The station’s crew watched in tense silence as the live feed streamed back.
The spires grew larger, their surfaces gleaming like polished obsidian. Strange, fluid-like movements rippled through them.
Then, the screen flickered. Static.
“What’s happening?” Mara barked.
Pierce’s voice came through the comm. “We’re losing the probe, ma’am. The signal—”
The screen flared back to life. But the image wasn’t of the comet. It was a face.
Not human.
Its eyes were hollow voids, its features sharp and unnatural. Its mouth moved, and though no sound came, the station’s AI translated the vibration.
“Leave.”
The screen went black. The lights in the lab dimmed, then surged. The station trembled again, harder this time.
Mara stood frozen, the word reverberating in her mind.
“What do we do, Dr. Quinn?” Alice whispered.
Mara’s voice was barely audible. “We leave.”
As the Stellar Ark disengaged from orbit and powered away, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that the comet hadn’t just warned them.
It had let them go. For now.