The shipyard at Lumen Station hung in the void, cradling unfinished vessels like frozen embryos. Deka, an exo-welder, had spent years fusing hulls together, but today, she severed one apart.
The command came direct from Earth: dismantle the Arcadia, a generation ship abandoned after its first jump. Rumors spoke of something inside—something still moving.
As Deka cut through the last bulkhead, a figure emerged. It was human. No, almost human. Its body glowed faintly, its face uncertain, as if memory itself had blurred.
“We were meant to continue,” it whispered. “You stopped us.”
Deka stepped back. The entity studied her, then the jagged scars of the ship.
With no command to cover this, no protocol, Deka did the only thing she could. She dropped the torch.
“I’ll help,” she said.
The glow faded. The figure nodded.
Outside, stars stretched endlessly forward. The Arcadia, broken but not dead, hummed softly.
Leave a Reply