Kael moved through the cramped shuttle interior like a man half-dreaming. Thoughts of Renn's story circled in his mind—images of a Med Lab crammed with survivors, a creature five times the size of the one he'd recovered, and a baby beast dying under the heat of a supercoiled pistol. It all sounded like something from an old war chronicle. But the scars on Renn's suit and the pain in his voice said otherwise.
Patch hovered beside him, its spherical body spinning slowly as it performed a status check on the upgraded scavenger drone. They were nearly ready. One hauler, one scavenger, one patched-up maintenance drone, and the last drone shell ready for fabrication—just enough to make a run on Med Lab Module 24.
And just enough to die trying.
A soft ping echoed from the cockpit. Proximity alert.
"Contact," Patch said calmly. "Wreckage. Dimensions approximate to station corridor—possibly a junction module. Minimal thermal bleed."
Kael's boots clanged softly as he walked over. "Any signs of life?"
"Uncertain. Readings are intermittent. Heat signature—very faint. Possible compartment integrity at 12%."
Kael sealed his suit without hesitation.
"Keep the engines warm and set auto-retract protocols," he said. "Just in case I have to bolt."
Renn stirred from his cot, eyes still cloudy with pain. "You heading out again?"
Kael nodded, strapping on his utility harness. "Small wreck. Might be nothing. But we're short on time."
Renn looked at him, half-respectful, half-worried. "Be careful."
Kael gave a tight nod. "I always am."
⸻
The corridor chunk was little more than a mangled husk, floating like a cracked vertebra in the dark. Kael glided across the surface, tether clipped tight to the shuttle. His headlamp swept over the scorched plating. A faded label read Transit Deck C – Central Loop.
A junction. That meant access to multiple modules. And maybe… maybe someone tried to hole up in one.
Patch fed data to Kael's HUD. "Inner compartment sealed. Pressure integrity at 9%. Possible EM signal leakage inside—could be degraded power cells or equipment. Or a life support signal."
Kael's knuckles tightened.
He moved forward, scanning for entry points. There—an emergency airlock, half-welded shut by warped metal.
Thirty seconds of low-power torch work gave him a gap.
Then he slid in.
Inside, the metal walls bent like ribs in a collapsed lung. Cabling hung like tendons, and broken panels gave off faint sparks. But near the back, behind a partially collapsed bulkhead—
A body.
Kael froze.
Then the figure moved.
Barely. But it moved.
He kicked forward.
"Patch, confirm biometric signs. Are they alive?"
"Faint pulse. Lowered metabolic state. Could be hypoxia or induced coma."
Kael pulled the figure free. Suit intact. A thermal blanket wrapped tightly. Male, early 20s maybe. Engineering harness with faded initials: D. Lira.
His face was pale. Eyes fluttering. But alive.
Kael activated the comms. "Patch, I've got a survivor. Get the shuttle ready for intake—medical protocol one. Low oxygen, possible concussion."
"Confirmed. Bringing airlock online."
As he began the slow pull back to the shuttle, Kael glanced down the corridor one last time.
Another set of claw marks gleamed in his headlamp.
Fresh.
⸻
Cryo Module 57
Inside Cryo Module 57, the atmosphere was tight with tension.
Dr. Arlen Voss stood beside the central monitoring terminal, arms folded as he reviewed Kael's latest transmission. His jaw clenched with every line.
Fifteen total aboard. Eleven still in stasis, including the hydroponics girl. Juno, the lone med tech, ran diagnostics on the support pods while Sergeant Ivers patrolled the periphery with Corporal Renna.
"He found someone else?" Juno asked, glancing over from the med console.
"Yes," Voss said quietly. "Another survivor. Unknown condition. He's bringing him aboard now."
Ivers approached, a stoic mountain in her reinforced suit. "And he's still planning to go after the Med Lab?"
"He is," Voss said. "And if even half of what Commander Renn reported is true, he'll be walking into something worse than vacuum exposure."
Corporal Renna frowned, arms crossed. "We could try to boost our local comms. Warn him to avoid certain zones."
Voss nodded slowly. "Maybe. But Kael's a technician—resourceful. I don't think he's running on instinct anymore. I think… he's planning something."
"You think he'll pull it off?" Juno asked.
Voss hesitated.
"I think if anyone can… it's him."
The module lights dimmed slightly as another power cycle completed. Silence stretched between them.
Then, as if through the very walls of the drifting cryo shell, the stars outside seemed to shimmer.
And in the quiet beyond the bulkhead, something unseen… moved.