The Weight of Stars
March 15, 2025
The silence of space was absolute, a black void that stretched into infinity. Lieutenant Kaela Voss stood alone in the command center of the Erebus, her fingers tapping nervously against the console. The ship’s artificial gravity hummed gently beneath her feet, the only sign of life on a craft that had been floating through the emptiness of deep space for weeks.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Garrett Ford’s voice crackled through the comms, breaking the stillness. “We’ve received the signal again.”
Kaela didn’t respond right away. She had been waiting for this, the strange, untraceable transmission that had led them here. It wasn’t a distress signal, nor was it a message anyone had ever heard before. It was something far stranger: a sequence of symbols, ancient and cryptic, transmitted through bursts of energy from somewhere beyond known space.
“Same frequency?” Kaela asked, her voice calm but tinged with uncertainty.
“Yes, Commander,” Ford replied. “And it’s stronger this time. It’s almost as if it’s pulling us closer.”
She turned, gazing out at the starless expanse of space. The signal had come from the far reaches of the galaxy, a place they shouldn’t have been able to reach. It had taken them weeks to trace its origin, but now, at the edge of their journey, Kaela could feel the weight of the unknown pressing on her.
“Plot a course toward the source,” she ordered. “I want us there in thirty minutes.”
Ford’s voice was hesitant. “Aye, Commander. But we’re getting strange readings—gravity anomalies, fluctuations in space-time. It’s like something’s interfering with our navigation.”
Kaela’s eyes narrowed. The report wasn’t surprising, but it was unsettling. “Prepare the crew. Keep scanning for anomalies, and do not engage any systems unless I give the word.”
The Erebus was a research vessel, equipped with the most advanced technology, but even the ship’s vast systems seemed strained by the distortions in space around them. As the crew worked in silence, Kaela couldn’t shake the feeling that they were heading into something far older and more dangerous than any of them had anticipated.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived.
Kaela stood at the helm, her heart pounding. On the viewscreen, a massive structure loomed before them—an artificial object of impossible design. It was a colossal, floating ring, larger than any known space station. But it wasn’t the size that was most striking. It was the way the ring seemed to shimmer and pulse, as if it were alive, breathing in the vacuum of space.
“Report,” Kaela said, her voice tight.
Ford’s voice was shaky. “The structure… it’s emitting a low-frequency pulse, Commander. It’s the same pattern as the signal. But… it’s not just a transmission—it’s something else. Something… alive.”
“Impossible,” Kaela muttered. “A structure that can pulse? This can’t be natural.”
“It gets worse, Commander,” Ford said. “The gravitational field around it is… unstable. It’s like we’re being pulled in—no matter what course I try to set, we’re heading straight for it.”
“Cut the engines,” Kaela ordered, her voice low. “Let’s drift and see what happens.”
The ship’s systems powered down, but the gravitational force surrounding the object was too strong. The Erebus was helpless, caught in the pull of the unknown.
“This is bad,” Ford muttered.
Suddenly, the transmission came again, louder this time. A voice, distorted and garbled, broke through the static.
“Come closer… You will understand. You must understand.”
The words sent a shiver down Kaela’s spine. The voice wasn’t human, but it wasn’t alien either—it was something different, something ancient. And it was beckoning them closer.
“Cut the transmission!” Kaela barked.
But the comms didn’t respond. The message continued, repeating in a rhythmic, hypnotic cadence.
“Closer… we wait for you… we always wait…”
“Shut it off!” Kaela shouted, slamming her fist against the console. But it didn’t stop.
The pulsing light from the structure began to flicker, growing in intensity. The ship shook as if the very fabric of space around them was bending. Through the viewport, Kaela saw the ring before them move—slowly, like it was turning toward them.
And then the screen went black.
Kaela gasped as the lights on the Erebus flickered and died. The ship was adrift in total darkness, its systems failing one by one. She felt a rising panic in her chest, but she forced it down, grounding herself in the moment. They had to get control. They had to—
The voice came again, this time in her head.
“You have come. You have awakened us.”
Kaela stumbled back, clutching her head. It wasn’t a voice on the comms. It was inside her mind, filling every corner of her consciousness. The words were a physical presence, pressing against her thoughts.
“Who are you?” Kaela gasped aloud. Her voice echoed in the empty command center.
“We are the ones who wait. We are the ones who endure. We remember… we are the memory of the stars.”
The realization hit her like a punch. The entity—whatever it was—was old, older than any civilization. It wasn’t just a being or a species. It was the past, the remnants of something long forgotten.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her voice shaking.
The voice answered, but it wasn’t a simple reply. It was an image—an explosion of images, visions flooding her mind. A galaxy collapsing in on itself, stars dying in an instant, planets torn apart by forces beyond comprehension. And then—them—the beings of pure energy, bound together in the form of a ring, watching as civilizations rose and fell, eternally bound to the weight of the universe.
“We are the last of our kind. We were forgotten. We are the guardians of memory. You must remember us.”
Kaela’s hands shook as the visions faded. The stars outside the ship’s viewports had gone dark, consumed by a creeping blackness that spread like an infection. The weight of the message pressed on her chest, suffocating her.
“How can we remember you?” she whispered.
The voice was silent for a moment.
“You cannot. But you will carry us. The weight of stars is heavy. You will carry it. You are chosen.”
Before she could respond, the ring outside the ship flared once, its energy pulsing so violently it lit up the entire ship. The Erebus lurched forward, breaking free from the gravitational pull, its systems flickering back to life.
Kaela stumbled, disoriented, as the viewscreen showed the empty space once more—the ring was gone. The signal had stopped.
But the message lingered, a weight she couldn’t shake.
And they would never be the same.