The Last Echo

The Sirocco drifted quietly through the stars, its crew on edge as they approached the unknown coordinates. Captain Alina Morales stood in the observation deck, her eyes scanning the vast, empty expanse of space.

“Captain, we’ve arrived,” Lieutenant Juno said over the comms. Her voice was tight, a reflection of the unease that had settled over the ship since they received the strange distress signal. It had been a month since they first intercepted it—an old transmission, repeated over and over again in a language no one could decode.

Alina turned to face the wall of monitors showing the dark void outside, but nothing stood out. No debris, no ships. Just silence.

“Bring us in closer,” Alina ordered, stepping away from the window.

The Sirocco’s engines hummed softly as it slowly advanced. On the comms, the signal grew stronger, a faint buzzing noise, barely audible, like the whisper of a distant storm.

“Captain,” Juno’s voice crackled again. “We’ve got a strong reading. There’s something… it’s coming from that dead zone.”

Alina nodded and leaned over Juno’s shoulder. “Any idea what it is?”

“No, Captain. But I think… it’s coming from inside a nearby asteroid. A hollow one.”

Alina’s stomach twisted. A hollow asteroid? That didn’t make sense. But before she could respond, a soft beep from the console interrupted her.

“We’re getting something on long-range sensors. It’s an object,” Juno continued, her fingers flying over the controls. “It’s not natural, though—no signatures, no heat signatures. Nothing.”

“Put it on the screen,” Alina said, her voice taut.

The viewscreen flickered, and there it was: a massive, metallic structure inside the hollow asteroid. It was a ship—or at least, it looked like one. But it was ancient, weathered, its surface coated with layers of dust and debris. Strange markings covered its hull, and long-forgotten engines pulsed weakly from deep within.

“What in the hell is that?” Alina whispered under her breath.

“It doesn’t look human, Captain. And it’s definitely not from any known species,” Juno replied.

“Prepare a boarding party. We’re going in.”

---

Alina led the team through the cramped corridors of the Sirocco as they made their way to the airlock. The unknown ship loomed ahead, its entrance as dark and foreboding as the silence outside.

Inside, the air was stale, thick with the scent of decay and age. The ship’s hull was cold, unwelcoming. As they moved deeper, Alina couldn’t shake the sensation that they were being watched. The walls, etched with faded symbols, seemed to pulse faintly, almost as if they were alive.

“What is this place?” whispered Lieutenant Jonas, one of the crew members, his voice trembling.

They moved deeper into the ship, following the faint hum of the signal. It led them to a large chamber, the walls covered in strange, organic shapes that seemed to stretch and grow in response to their presence.

At the center of the room was a large, pulsing core, surrounded by jagged structures. The signal was coming from it. A bright, blinding light suddenly flared from the core, and Alina’s crew staggered back, shielding their eyes.

Then, the light dimmed, and a voice—soft, sorrowful—echoed through the chamber.

“You should not have come.”

Alina froze, her breath catching in her throat. The voice was old, filled with centuries of regret. She could hear the weight of its existence in each word.

“Who are you?” Alina asked, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her.

“We were the last of our kind,” the voice replied. “We were the keepers, the watchers. But we… we failed.”

A dark chill filled the air as the voice continued.

“You are too late. The stars have forgotten us.”

Suddenly, the core flashed once more, and the ship groaned, its walls trembling. Alina could hear something deep within the bowels of the ship—an awakening, an ancient, agonizing cry of loss.

Without warning, the airlock door slammed shut. The Sirocco’s crew was trapped.

“Captain, we need to leave, now!” Jonas screamed, but the doors refused to budge.

The voice returned, more mournful than before.

“You will remain here. The echoes will find you. We will find you.”

And with that, the core’s light dimmed forever.