'Ensign Jones is getting good at that, didn't even feel the transition.' He thought to himself, silently watching the bridge come to life as his crew launched into the familiar process of surveying the system. If everything went well, they would be here for at least a month, working their way towards the prize in the middle - SYS-147A-a's massive blue-white Class B star. A star that was far too stable and old warranting further inspection.
"Emergence complete, Captain, pushing preliminary scanner data to the tank." Ensign Wilhight announced, swinging her right arm through an interface only she could see. A cybernetic projection pushed to her vision through her implants. Calderon looked up as what the Ensign was seeing populated the main holo-tank view.
The holo-tank shimmered, filling the bridge with a web of light and motion. Streams of energy danced across the representation of the system: planets, moons, and asteroids traced precise orbits, while faint, chaotic pulses of unseen force wove between them like ghostly currents.
Calderon leaned forward, fingers resting lightly on the console rail. The star dominated the center of the projection, blue-white and impossibly calm. He began a slow walk around the circular bridge, eyeing the holo-tank display from all angles while observing his crew work. He could have spun the display to view any portion he wanted, but he preferred to walk around it. This gave him a chance to observe his crew as they worked. Silently cataloging where certain crew needed improvement, and where they were doing well. Occasionally providing helpful advice or asking questions, often to that which he already had answers, guiding his junior crewmembers to the proper conclusions as necessary.
When he'd finished making his rounds he joined his XO at the front of the display. It took time, but he now had a clearer picture of all major planetary bodies the system held.
"So, where should we start the survey?" XO Daniels asked, focused on the display.
Calderon took a deep breath, coming to a modified position of 'parade rest' at the same time, making a small show of his decision. He nodded at a small planetoid that was sitting approximately 250 AU from the primary. The ship AI, understanding the gesture, expanded the display to show only the object in question.
A rocky planetoid populated the viewing tank, rotating slowly with streams of data connected to the representation by thin lines of light. Interesting and unique information highlighted in various colors, all in real-time as his science officers worked furiously with the ship A.I. to catalogue and collate anything that stood out as such.
“Interesting energy readings coming from the dark side, there and there.” Daniels gestured to the orange hued sectors highlighted on the constantly evolving map on the display, “Norman, please elaborate on these readings”
The ship A.I. responded as if it were expecting the question, which it was. Its primary task was to anticipate the needs of its crew, “Of course sir, preliminary analysis indicates unusually high concentrations of high energy particles and radiation in the quantum range.” The display began to quickly zoom out to encompass the entire system, orange lines stretching from the lone planetoid at the systems edge to connect in a chain leading inward. “As you can see, the energy seems to be reaching towards the primary, and if the data collection remains consistent, I would suspect that all of the bodies are connected by this peculiar energy signature.”
The Captain and XO paused thoughtfully, as the data was ingested and processed by the A.I., watching as the first string of orange light connected with the outermost detected ice giant.
“Well, XO, seems like the navigational route has been established for us.” The Captain commented as he began another circuit of the bridge.
“Indeed, Sir, Helm, prepare a course that follows our… ‘yellow brick road’, if you will.” Daniels checked the timer on the current survey of the planetoid, noting that the A.I. had taken the liberty of labeling it ‘Point Kansas’, as well as adjusting the color of the represented energy trail to a soft amber, eliciting a subtle smile from the XO and several of the crew that understood the reference, “Looks like the survey will be complete in about twelve hours, let’s plan for departure in the next thirty-six hours.”
“Aye aye, XO” the PO at the helm murmured as she focused inward, the ships external cameras routed to the cyberware in her brain. A small patch of silver on her temple, blinked a green light in a steady rhythm, indicating that she was focused inward. Her level of focus, and the volume of her response spoke to how long she’d been doing her job. New pilots tended to shout their acknowledgements, unaware of their own volume while fully immersed.
“What the…” The tactical officer began to mutter an expletive before catching himself, not wanting to catch the XO’s ire. While the atmosphere on a survey ship was generally more relaxed, the XO still demanded a certain level of professionalism when on the bridge. “Sir, could you double check what I’m seeing here? I might need to see the Doc.”
Captain Calderon smirked, turning around and leaning over the TO’s shoulder, “Let’s see what you got, son.”
“I think I’m seeing a 17th century sloop floating out there in Kansas’ L1.” The TO looked up at the Captain wide eyed, sweat beading across his forehead. All eyes on the bridge suddenly were on the TO, wondering if he had actually lost his mind.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Calderon leaned over the console and barely managed to stifle a gasp, “What the hell, indeed.” He muttered in the TO’s ear. “Norman, put it in the tank.”
A moment later all eyes were staring up at the projection which now displayed the object in question. A traditional looking wooden sloop floated out in the depths of space, complete with a single tall mast, a large white sail stretching from that to a long bowsprit. It defied all logic and left the bridge deathly silent.
“Norman,” Captain Calderon almost whispered. “Is that really there?”
The A.I. paused for a fraction of a second before replying, its tone calm and precise.
“I am observing the same phenomenon, Captain. There appears to be a blue-water sailing vessel in stable orbit around Point Kansas. This configuration is… improbable. I have completed preliminary diagnostics on all active sensors and detected no faults. I recommend a Level Three Cyber Tech perform an independent verification.”
Calderon didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the holo-tank.
“Is that… a person?” Daniels asked from the opposite side, disbelief bleeding into his voice.
A figure had indeed stepped onto the deck of the impossible ship.
“Tactical, confirm—” Calderon began, then stopped himself. His posture shifted, subtle but unmistakable.
“Set Condition One.”
Before the order could be completed, the bridge lights snapped to red. Alarms howled to life as bulkheads sealed with a series of heavy, resonant thuds. In the holo-tank, the lone figure blurred—blue light compressing into motion—then vanished from the alien vessel entirely.
It reappeared as a streak, accelerating directly toward the Ardent Surveyor.
Norman’s voice cut through the chaos, urgency replacing its previous composure.
“Projectile detected. Automated response protocols engaged. Point Defense Cannons deploying. Estimated impact in twenty seconds.”
The deck shuddered as the PDC mounts slammed into position, the vibration traveling through the ship like a hammer striking an anvil. A heartbeat later, the cannons opened fire, the rapid pulse of kinetic discharge resonating through Calderon’s boots.
The shock snapped him out of his frozen disbelief.
This wasn’t a sensor ghost.
This wasn’t a misclassification.
This was contact.
********************
Tunis V’kor was irritated.
He had spent days surveying the system and had little to show for it. Mana density in the outer reaches was thin and uneven, leaving him feeling weak—anemic in a way that made his skin crawl. His statistics were unchanged, the System still present, but the lack of ambient mana gnawed at him. Regeneration lagged. That, more than any imagined threat, unsettled him.
It was foolish, he knew. By every indication, the system was empty.
The only reason he hadn’t pushed deeper was the Dawn Rider ruin he’d uncovered on this miserable planetoid. Buried deep within its core, the ancient archive hinted at something far more significant: a second facility, heavily fortified, located on the system’s sole habitable world.
An Ancient Dungeon.
If he could breach the outer defenses, he could storm the complex unopposed. Unfortunately, ancient machine logic was not his strength—and the System had offered no guidance. No prompts. No quests.
Nothing.
“Tch. Stingy ass…”
“Hmmm. What do we have here? That… that’s outside of the lanes.”
He frowned at the readings on his console. According to his sensors, an object had just entered the system. The problem was how—it hadn’t arrived along a mana lane, or ley line, as the lesser races called them.
“Should be more interesting than beating my head against the Dungeon problem,” he muttered.
Stepping onto the outer deck, Tunis scanned the void. His high Perception stat quickly paid off—Wayfinders were required to see millions of miles into open space, after all.
He found it.
“Curious.”
Near the Oort cloud drifted an oblong silver vessel, rounded at the prow and capped at the stern by four massive engine nacelles. Strange markings adorned its nose—written in a language he had never encountered, one his
“Well then. Let’s see who you are.”
He marshaled his mana, wrapping himself in a translucent bubble of force and shaping it into propulsion. He crossed the void at terrifying speed, nearly halfway to the vessel when two pods blinked free from the hull—one above, one below.
“Huh, what’s—OW!”
Energy flared around him as he was struck again and again. His barrier rippled under the impacts, flashing erratically. Confusion surged—he was being attacked, violently so, yet he could see nothing. The only movement came from the rotating pods, tracking him with unnerving precision.
Invisible fire.
He triggered
His barrier failed for a heartbeat.
Something tore through his left shoulder, spinning him end over end as pain exploded through his body.
“FUCK!”
Blood spiraled into the void, boiling away before freezing into dark crimson crystals. He recast his barrier just in time as another barrage slammed into him.
Millennia of combat instincts finally asserted themselves.
Curiosity died. The Wayfinder vanished.
Tunis V’kor, Battlemage, angled his approach, poured on the speed, and prepared to return fire.
He flinched as more impacts rippled across his shield. The weapon pods were relentless—tiny, tenacious, and unnervingly precise—so he abandoned straight-line movement and went erratic.
Pushing his
He gathered his will and summoned a sphere of mana-infused fire to his uninjured hand, compressing it in an instant, then forcing in even more mana for good measure.
He released it.
The spell screamed across the void in a red lance of crackling energy. For a heartbeat, the pods snapped to track the incoming attack, unleashing a silent storm that failed to intercept it.
Victory flickered—then vanished.
The spell dispersed harmlessly across an unseen energy shield. Tunis twisted hard, already shaping another attack as he launched into evasive maneuvers, bracing for retaliation.
None came.
Instead, the vessel folded in on itself, vanishing into a subtle distortion of the starscape, as if it had never been there at all.
Tunis drifted in the sudden silence, staring into the empty void, his thoughts refusing to settle.
“What in the name of the Ancestors?”