The shuttle Blackbird detached from the Odyssey's belly with a gentle shudder. Inside its cramped cabin, Commander Dominic Reed double-checked the seal on his helmet and the charge on his suit's environmental systems. Around him, the away team sat strapped in silence as Lieutenant Commander Raines guided the shuttle toward the drifting Halcyon.
Through the shuttle's forward window, Reed saw the research vessel loom into view against the star-flecked night. The Halcyon was a mid-sized ship, longer and bulkier than the sleek Odyssey, with science module bulges along its spine. Now it floated aimlessly, running lights dark. A single blinking beacon near the aft was the only sign of life – the transmitter broadcasting its distress. The hull was scarred and pitted, and one of the antenna arrays hung limp, half-broken.
"Looks dead," muttered Officer Caleb Royce, his voice cracking over the suit comm in Reed's ear. Caleb's tone held a note of grim satisfaction, as if the state of the vessel vindicated his frustration at being here. Reed shot him a warning glance through the visor but said nothing. Caleb held his rifle tightly across his lap, his gloved fingers drumming impatiently.
Dr. Elias Zhang shifted next to Reed, the medic's bulky portable diagnostic kit secured to his EVA suit. "Radiation and biohazard sensors are nominal," Zhang said quietly, as much to himself as to anyone. "No significant toxins detected from here."
"Copy that," Reed replied. He looked to Raines, who sat at the pilot controls. "Lieutenant Commander, take us to the main airlock. We'll go in through their shuttle bay if possible."
"Roger," Raines answered. Her eyes were sharp behind her helmet's heads-up display as she maneuvered the Blackbird alongside the Halcyon. The shuttle's floodlights cut across the other ship's hull, illuminating its name and registry painted in peeling white letters: HALCYON – ESV 113. No obvious breaches or battle damage, Reed noted.
A soft clang reverberated through the shuttle as it latched onto the airlock port. "Hard dock achieved," Raines reported. "Cycle the airlock."
Royce was already on his feet, eager to move. Reed raised a gauntleted hand. "Standard procedure, Officer. We go in pairs. Keep comms open. Safety off on weapons, but don't shoot unless I give the word."
"Yes, sir," Royce replied, though Reed noticed the slight roll of his shoulders that betrayed irritation. Raines gave Royce a curt nod; she'd keep him in line.
They moved through the umbilical tunnel and into the Halcyon's airlock. Reed's suit lights cut ahead, illuminating a small chamber with scuffed metal walls. The inner door's manual release had to be cranked – no power. Raines muscled it open with a grunt. Beyond lay darkness.
Reed's helmet lamp swept over the corridor beyond the airlock. The Halcyon's interior was cold and silent. As the team stepped inside, their boots clanged on the deck. A faint layer of frost crusted the corners of the corridor – the ship's life support must have failed or been turned off, letting the chill of space creep in. In the weightless microgravity (Halcyon's spin or grav systems offline), tiny ice crystals floated like dust motes, sparkling in the beams of their lights.
"Stay close," Reed murmured, moving forward. The corridor led to a junction. A sign on the wall indicated directions: Bridge →, Crew Deck ↓, Laboratory ←.
"Splitting up would be faster," Royce said, angling his rifle toward the crew deck shaft.
Raines barked, "Negative. We stick together until we know what happened here."
Royce fell silent, but Reed could sense the resentment radiating off the younger man. He knew Caleb had volunteered for the away team partly out of a stubborn desire to prove himself, or perhaps to escape the Odyssey's tense atmosphere. Reed made a mental note to talk to the kid later – he was a good officer under the anger.
They advanced toward the bridge first. If any clues remained, the ship's logs or computer core might be there. The journey was eerie. Their footfalls echoed. Every few meters, Reed's light revealed something that made the hairs on his neck prickle: a dropped tablet here, an open maintenance panel there, tools drifting in zero-g. Signs of sudden abandonment.
At one intersection, Dr. Zhang pointed to dark stains on the wall. "Is that... blood?" he asked over comms.
Reed brought his light closer. Rust-brown streaks trailed along the wall panels and ceiling. It looked as if something – or someone – had been dragged. The streaks led into an adjoining corridor that descended toward the crew deck.
"Keep moving to the bridge," Reed said quietly. "We'll check that on the way back." His voice remained steady, but his pulse had quickened.
They reached the bridge hatch. The door was sealed shut, the electronic panel unresponsive. Royce wedged a crowbar from his belt kit into a gap and forced it open with a grunt of effort, muscles straining in the low gravity. A whoosh of airless vacuum puffed out; the bridge had decompressed at some point.
Inside, the bridge was dark except for the strobing red of a backup power indicator. Consoles were dark. A single body floated near the ceiling, gently spinning – the first corpse they'd seen.
Raines instinctively raised her pistol toward the shape, then lowered it when her light revealed a shriveled face behind a cracked visor. It was a crewman in a Halcyon uniform. The body was contorted, fingers curled as if clutching at the throat. Dr. Zhang drifted closer, stabilizing himself with a handhold, and peered at the corpse. "No obvious wounds... Could be asphyxiation when life support failed, or exposure to vacuum," he said quietly. The dead man's eyes were wide open and milky.
Reed grimaced but kept his focus. He pushed toward the main console. "Let's see if we can get any data. Raines, provide light."
As Raines aimed her suit lamp, Reed pried open an access panel beneath the console. The ship's systems were down, but his helmet interface could connect via short-range if he could find an intact port. He plugged in a cable from his wrist comp into a service jack and waited. Lines of code scrolled across his HUD as his suit's computer attempted to handshake with the Halcyon.
"Pulling what I can from the logs," Reed said, relieved to see some files copying. "Power's low, but I might get a fragment of the captain's log or the distress initiation data."