In the Black Spaces

011: Those Who Came Before

The wreckage field was like nothing she'd ever seen before.

The Cobra edged forward, sensors and gun batteries hunting through the metal sea for any sign of hostile targets. From the look of the place, their quarry had long since been and gone, but that didn't make Wraia any less on edge. She didn't recognise any of the vessels in this dead system – none of them matched Sol-Fleet records on any known spacefaring civilisations.

A swift conference over the comms with Prallas Fifthhorn confirmed that the Narvorians had the same results. Nothing on records.

In any other situation this would have been an extraordinary find. Curiosity ripped at Wraia's guts as she watched wreck after wreck slide by, her eyes devouring the details of their hulls, their engines, their colours, their insignias. Languages she didn't recognise; symbols that matched no database. The history here was staggering.

"Steady as she goes, Lieutenant," Wraia said quietly. "I want all of this logged."

"Aye, ma'am. Steady as she goes."

"Cameras recording on full wide-spread," Hooper confirmed.

"How could that thing have done... all this?" Briar breathed.

Gallagher glanced at the comms officer grimly. "Some of that wreckage looks ancient. Who knows how long that thing has been rampaging around the galaxy."

"But why would this all accumulate here?" Hooper asked. "Whatever it is, it doesn't take trophies. It left the Manticore behind; left those Narvorian ships behind. Where did this all come from?"

"Speculation won't get us anywhere," Wraia said flatly. "Just keep moving, and I want a trace on the gravity anomalies. Our mystery guest came through here – I'd like to know why."

They continued on at an in-system canter along the edge of the field, avoiding the great twisting clumps of mangled metal, while getting as close as they could for the cameras. She could see the same warping effects on many of these long-lost vessels, their hulls bent and twisted out of shape by some impossibility of physics.

"Ma'am," Briar piped up almost an hour into their solemn journey. "I've got Chief Navigator Fifthhorn on ship-to-ship. Sounds urgent."

"Put him through, Ensign."

"You're live, ma'am."

"Chief Navigator," Wraia said. "This is Clay."

"Clay," came the Narvorian's gruff voice. "We have found something."

"What is it?"

"Bring your vessel close. You must see."

Wraia blinked at the Narvorian's brusqueness. She muted the comm for a moment, shooting Hooper a questioning glance.

"They're about ten thousand clicks ahead of us, just beyond the debris belt," the systems officer said, shrugging. "Sensors aren't showing anything different out there. Just more inert matter in the debris field."

Wraia frowned and reopened the comm. "We're on our way, Chief Navigator. Clay out." She nodded to Scarreth. "Alright, Ensign. Let's go see what the fuss is about."

"Aye, ma'am," Scarreth replied with a smirk as she keyed in a fresh course. "Course laid in."

The Cobra swung upwards, skirting the edge of the debris field and powering forward through the void until they had a visual of the Narvorian cruiser. The Rummus Lone lurked on the far side of the field, it's prow pointed at a clump of particularly ravaged vessels. As they drew closer, however, Wraia could see the wrecks were clustered around something much larger.