The Mirage of Solitude

Commander Seraphine Kale watched the cold blue of the gas giant, Aestris, fill the view from the Endeavor’s bridge. It had been weeks since the crew had made their way to this forgotten part of space. They were far from known star routes, and the signal they’d picked up had led them to this system, a system long thought abandoned.

“Aestris looks peaceful from here, doesn’t it?” Lieutenant Quinn murmured, standing beside Seraphine. He was a quiet, perceptive officer, but even he had seemed on edge lately. It was hard not to.

“Too peaceful,” Seraphine replied, narrowing her eyes at the planet below. “I’ve been here before. Something about this place doesn’t sit right.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “You mean the signal?”

She nodded, her mind still replaying the transmission they’d received. It had been brief, a fractured message that sounded more like a plea than a distress signal. There were no coordinates, no clear indication of origin, just a repeated, fractured phrase: “We are not alone. We are waiting. Come to the Aestris Rift.”

The Rift was an anomaly near Aestris, a strange distortion of space-time that had baffled scientists for centuries. No one had ever gone near it; no one had dared. Yet here they were, approaching the edge of it, drawn in by that haunting message.

“Anything unusual?” Seraphine asked, her eyes on the control console.

Quinn checked the readings. “The Rift’s pulling at us, Commander. Not enough to alter our course, but it’s definitely there. I’ll start running diagnostics again, but… everything’s too quiet. It’s like the whole system is holding its breath.”

The moment he said it, the silence in the ship deepened. The hum of the engines, the clatter of officers at their stations—it all seemed to fade as if the ship was becoming part of the vast emptiness around them.

“Captain, you need to see this,” Ensign Drew called from across the room.

Seraphine moved swiftly to his station. “What is it, Drew?”

He pointed to the screen. A soft green glow emanated from the Rift, and for the first time since entering the system, Seraphine felt a chill slide up her spine. A ship—a massive, derelict structure—floated near the event horizon of the Rift, suspended in place as though it were caught in a web.

“It wasn’t here before,” Drew said, his voice barely a whisper.

Seraphine’s pulse quickened. The ship wasn’t part of any known fleet. The design was unfamiliar, its shape twisted and unnatural, as though it had been warped by the very forces of the Rift. She leaned closer to the screen.

“Send out a communication pulse,” she ordered. “Open a channel.”

Nothing.

“Try hailing them directly.”

Still nothing. It was as if the ship was as silent as the stars themselves.

“Ready a shuttle,” Seraphine said. “We’re going in.”

---

The shuttle, Vigilance, descended toward the derelict ship. Seraphine’s heart beat erratically in her chest. She didn’t believe in omens, but there was something about this place—something wrong.

As they approached the ship, the distortion in space around them increased. The world outside the shuttle seemed to bend. Time stretched in odd ways, as though the laws of physics were beginning to crumble. The shuttle’s systems flickered, struggling to maintain their usual functions.

Quinn, piloting the shuttle, frowned. “This… this isn’t possible. The readings are off the charts. It’s like the Rift is alive, pulling us in.”

Seraphine didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the derelict ship, growing larger with every passing second.

The docking bay doors of the derelict opened with a slow, mechanical groan, as if expecting them. The moment the shuttle touched down, Seraphine felt a cold shiver. No one had boarded this ship in years—maybe centuries—but it felt like something was already waiting.

They disembarked, the air inside the ship stale and lifeless, a strange stillness hanging in the air. The walls were covered in strange symbols, patterns that seemed to move, shifting out of the corner of her eyes. The faint hum of the ship’s systems was still active, but it was distorted, as though it had been alive once, and now… only half of it remained.

“Where is everyone?” Quinn whispered, glancing around the empty halls.

Seraphine didn’t answer. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow. She could feel it now—something was watching them, lurking just beyond sight.

A soft echo filled the silence, a voice—broken and distant—whispering from the walls.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

The hairs on Seraphine’s neck stood on end. “What was that?” she demanded.

“Did you hear it?” Quinn asked, his voice shaking.

She nodded grimly, her pulse quickening. They weren’t alone. Not anymore.

The lights flickered, and the sound of metal creaking echoed through the halls. Then, from the shadows, something moved.

A figure appeared—pale, gaunt, and barely recognizable. It was a crew member, but distorted, like a shadow of a person. Its eyes were wide, empty, staring directly at Seraphine. Its lips moved, forming words, but no sound came.

“You are not meant to be here. You… are the ones waiting.”

Seraphine’s mind raced as realization hit her like a physical blow.

It wasn’t just the crew who had disappeared from this ship. The Rift had taken them, twisted them, and turned them into something else—something waiting for anyone foolish enough to cross its threshold.

The ship wasn’t abandoned.

It was a trap.

The figure lurched forward, and the walls seemed to close in around them.

“We have to leave. NOW!” Seraphine shouted.

But the moment she turned to run, the ship’s systems locked down. The exit doors slammed shut with a deafening clang.

“We’re trapped,” Quinn whispered, his voice filled with dread.

And as the crew of the Vigilance struggled to escape, they began to hear the whispers growing louder. The Rift had been waiting for them.

They had become part of its endless cycle.

And soon, they would join the others, waiting… for the next ship to come.