The Apex Chamber buzzed just off the bridge. Holo-displays splashed Ceres’ cratered face and jagged signal waveforms across the polished table. Through the viewport the asteroid’s icy sprawl seemed to breathe, shadows twitching in the corners of everyone’s vision.

  Selene Deimos stood at the head of the table, gray eyes flicking over her senior crew as they filed in. Tsala Maka slipped through the hatch first, followed by Amaya Maekawa (still smelling faintly of antiseptic), Kalia Drache, Anjali Davikar, Jaxon McAlister, and finally Mateus Costa. The Hope’s wounded engines throbbed like a distant headache beneath their boots.

  “Alright,” Selene said once everyone had settled. “We have quite a situation. One injured in med-bay, engines down, and we’re getting strange messages from a site that should have been dark and untouched when we arrived. Did I forget anything?”

  Anjali spoke first. “Ma’am, according to what I found, the logs on the station’s computer may have been altered. But I would have to get to them to verify.”

  Tsala leaned forward. “Captain, with all due respect, it would be unsafe to send anyone into that station without me and my team clearing it. I would leave a guard at the vault and docking bay while the rest sweep the station for threats.”

  Selene nodded once. “Agreed, Chief. No one but security enters until you give the all-clear.”

  She turned to Amaya. “Doc, how is Ensign Nexys doing?”

  Amaya shifted in her seat, hands clasped tight. “She’ll be back on her feet real soon. Captain… while I was treating her something weird happened. I’d like to discuss it with you in private, ma’am.”

  Selene’s eyes lingered on her for half a second, then moved on. “Comms, do you have anything yet?”

  Kalia leaned in, eyes narrowed at her tablet. “Cap, I’ve started the decoding but it’ll take time. So far I’ve managed a little. A serpent glyph flashes on the screen, followed by static. Then, ‘seek the ascendant city,’ followed again by static. I believe the static is actually more of the encoded message. I’ll keep working on it.”

  Selene turned to Costa. “Commander, how are the engines? Do you have a timeline?”

  Mateus rubbed the back of his neck and growled. “Engines are dead, Captain at least for now. Strange thing is the EMP, or whatever it was, didn’t fry the circuits. Just shut them down. We’re lucky in that regard. Backup power is holding steady. My estimate to have the engines back online is eight hours.”

  He shot a dark look across the table. “I’m still not sure what that hotshot pilot of yours did…”

  Jaxon jumped to his feet, chair scraping. His Scottish brogue flared. “What are you saying, old man? That I caused this? Tell me, oh exalted one, how exactly did I do that?”

  Selene started to rise, ready to shut them both down, but Anjali spoke first. “You didn’t, Jax.”

  Every head snapped toward her.

  Selene’s voice cut the silence. “Do you know what happened?”

  Anjali nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Scan logs reveal we brushed something similar to a proximity mine. It was invisible to the eye but lit up on deep scanners. I was busy trying to crack the station’s computer and missed it. If it was anyone’s fault, Commander, it was mine not Jax’s. I’m sorry, Captain. I should have been paying more attention.”

  The air eased a fraction. Jax sat back down, still trading glares with Costa.

  Selene let the silence settle, then spoke again. “I’m sure it was just an oversight, Anjali, and not done on purpose. And if the mine was that hard to see, it probably couldn’t have been avoided anyway.”

  She shot Costa a look sharp enough to weld hull plates. He closed his mouth.

  “Now,” Selene continued, “that’s where we are. So where do we go from here?”

  She swept her gaze around the table. No one spoke.

  “First priority since the engines only need time is to retrieve the Corellium. That means a station sweep. Lieutenant Maka, assemble your team and clear the station. Anjali, get whatever gear you need and stand by for the all-clear. Maka, I still want one of your people with her when she hits the control room.”

  Selene kept going, voice crisp. “Comms, get with Lira the moment Doc clears her and keep working that message. Doc, stay in med-bay in case we get more surprises. Commander, back to those engines see if you can shave even an hour off that timeline. I wanted our first jump yesterday. Lieutenant McAlister, organize a team to retrieve the Corellium the second Maka gives the word. Security rides along.”

  She paused, letting it sink in. “If that’s all dismissed.”

  Everyone rose. Chairs scraped. Boots headed for the hatch.

  Just before Amaya reached the door, Selene’s voice stopped her cold.

  “Doc… hang back a minute.”

  #

  The displays in the Apex Chamber had dimmed, yet the icy surface of Ceres still loomed in the viewport, shadows dancing around the craters.

  Captain Deimos stood at the end of the table, her eyes fixed on Doc. The rest of the command staff had filed out. As the hatch sealed behind the last officer, Amaya reached over and tapped the manual lock. The magnetic clack sounded too loud in the sudden quiet.

  “Doc, please sit down and tell me what’s going on?” Selene said, pointing to the chair the Doc had just left.

  The doctor returned to her chair and the Captain sat opposite her. When they were seated again the displays in front of them both came back on. Doc hit a few buttons and the scans she had taken of Lira Nexys during the emergency filled the air.

  “If you look carefully there is a spike, almost… there… and there. Each of these spikes occurred at about the same time medicine was being administered. I am not sure what it means and you could probably brush it off if it wasn’t for something else as well.”

  She swallowed. “The hole in her shoulder which was bleeding at one point had stopped by the time they were in the airlock and almost completely closed up by the time you cleared everyone out. You may not be aware but cameras record over the exam beds for all kinds of reasons. I took the opportunity to look back and slowed the feed down. Here is what I found.”

  Amaya hit another button. The display changed to a close-up of what Selene guessed was Lira’s shoulder.

  Selene’s eyes widened. “Is that mending itself in real time? It looks like what the nanites look like when refining Graphynite. Could that be nanites?”

  “I don’t think so, Captain. Nanites are not made for biological processes. This is something different. I will keep looking into it and get back with you. I would like, with your permission, to get a complete blood work-up on her and her sisters. It could be isolated. But I would also like to get baseline bloodwork on the entire crew. In case this condition isn’t isolated.”

  The Captain responded, “I think that would be a great idea. I will make the announcement as soon as we finish here at Ceres and get underway. Meanwhile, let’s keep this on a need-to-know basis. If that is all…”

  Selene started to rise, but the doctor stayed seated.

  Amaya’s data-pad buzzed again, sharp and urgent. She pulled it out with fingers that had begun to tremble. The automated blood panel she had started during the crisis had just finished. She stared at the screen for a long moment, then turned the pad so Selene could see.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “The lab flagged an unidentified cellular agent in Lira’s blood. Same signature we just watched knitting her shoulder together. It’s not medical nanites; it’s organic. And the concentration has tripled in the last four hours. Whatever repaired that wound… it’s still inside her. Multiplying.”

  Selene felt every degree drop out of the room.

  “Captain, there is something else,” Amaya continued, voice almost a whisper. “Before the EMP blast I saw what I thought was a flash vision. Like at the edge of my vision. I didn’t think much of it until… until the report on the message had a serpent glyph. And so did Lira in one of her moments of lucidity, ma’am. I am not sure if this is tied to anything but I would like to keep looking into it. See if there is a connection.”

  “Agreed. This is strange. Look into it quietly. I don’t want to start any unneeded problems. Understood?”

  The Doc rose from her chair, nodded to the captain, and exited the room.

  Selene remained seated a moment longer, staring at the frozen image of living tissue weaving itself whole. What else, she thought, could possibly complicate this mission…and how many of us already carry it?

  #

  Maka, Ryde, and Navarro gathered at the docking port. Maka looked at his two senior officers. “Okay, now was the time to show you something that, until tonight, had been classified. Follow me.”

  He led them into what looked like a supply closet, pushed one wall panel, then twisted another until an audible click sounded. A hidden door swung inward. “You do not tell anyone about this place,” he said quietly. “If the wrong person ever learned of it, it could spell disaster.”

  He pushed the door fully open. A good-sized room lay beyond, every wall lined with weapons and armor. nMaka walked them to one particular cabinet. He opened it. “Holster your sidearms. We’re taking something with more punch.”

  He handed each of them a heavily modified short carbine.

  Ryde turned the weapon over in his hands. “Chief, this looks like an old HK MP5. We aren’t using projectile weapons in a pressurized environment, are we?”

  Maka’s mouth twitched. “Looks can be deceiving. Check the magazine.”

  Ryde slid it free. Same caseless rounds as their sidearms.

  “In fact,” Maka added, tossing them three extra magazines each, “take a few more. Just in case.”

  They tucked the mags into their vests.

  “This is the NPH-R,” Maka explained. “Big brother to your pistols. Harder hit, longer stun, still non-lethal. Which cannot be said for everything else in this room. That is why no one else ever hears about it. Understood?”

  Both officers gave crisp affirmatives and followed him back to the docking bay.

  Maka faced them again. “We clear one corridor at a time, one room at a time. Navarro, you’re rear guard. Nothing comes up behind us. Got it?” Navarro nodded. Maka keyed his comm. “Captain, the security team is ready to enter the mining station at your command.”

  Selene’s voice returned instantly. “Proceed, Lieutenant. Be safe.”

  Maka acknowledged, then turned to his team. “Steady. Eyes wide, ears sharp.”

  He cycled the hatch. Cold, stale air rolled over them like a wave. They left the channel open so the bridge could monitor. “Proceeding now. First storage room on the left. Opening the hatch… the room is empty. Moving deeper.”

  Ryde glanced at his scanner. “No life signs expected. Most rooms along this strut are showing empty. But the next corridor ahead has raw ore and processed ore.”

  Costa’s voice cut in. “Find out how much of each. Unprocessed might still be useful. Our onboard refinery isn’t as efficient, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

  “Noted, Commander,” Maka replied. “Marking location, Ryde. Let’s keep moving.”

  They swept both storage bays and logged the haul: one thousand kilos of processed Corellium, two thousand kilos raw. Maka keyed the comm again. “We’ve searched all accessible storage. The processor corridor has collapsed. Can’t reach it without another EVA.”

  Selene answered at once. “What you found will hold us for now. No unnecessary risks.”

  “Roger that, ma’am. Proceeding to the control room.” Maka pushed the final hatch release. A figure suddenly stood in front of him stiff, frost-covered, eyes wide in death. “Oh Holy One protect us!”

  Selene’s voice cracked over the channel. “What is it, Lieutenant? Report! Dammit!”

  Navarro recovered first. “It’s a body, Captain. A dead body.”

  Ryde stared, blood draining from his face. The corpse looked… familiar. He shook it off and transmitted the scan. “Captain, I think I recognise this person. Sending visuals now.”

  Maka took a steadying breath. “The station is secure, ma’am. No living souls, just one frozen humansicle. You can send your teams. Have Doc meet us at the docking bay; she can take custody of our friend here.”

  “Acknowledged,” Selene replied.

  She switched to all-ship. “McAlister, get your teams to the docking bay and start the ore transfer. Davikar, meet Chief Maka at the bay for station control. Doc, bring a gurney non-emergency this time.”

  #

  Maka escorted Davikar back to the control room. He took position by the open hatch, NPH-R cradled against his chest, eyes scanning the corridor while Davikar set up her equipment.

  She muttered as she worked. “This equipment was older than my great-great-grandmother. That meant it was both easier and harder to deal with.”

  From the open channel, Jax’s voice crackled. “How exactly is that possible?”

  Davikar didn’t look up. “Ancient hardware is hard to interface with, but once I am in I can pull anything that wasn’t physically corrupted. Give me a moment.”

  First she deployed a portable power supply. The compact box hummed to life and brought the whole room back to full power. Sirens immediately began blaring.

  Davikar ignored the noise, hunted under tables, and finally located a dusty wireless keyboard. She blew off decades of grime, pressed connect, a green light and the menus appeared. She killed the siren first. The sudden silence felt heavier than the alarm had.

  Then she dove into the data. “Captain,” she said after a minute, “someone tried to erase these logs but only deleted them, never scrubbing them. I’m pulling everything onto an isolated drive so we don’t risk infecting the Hope. Wait… I’ve found a locked file. It carries the same serpent glyph as an icon. It’ll take time to crack. I may need Comms.”

  Tsala’s head snapped toward her. “Same glyph as the signal?”

  “Maybe,” Anjali answered, pulse quickening. “I need time.”

  She uploaded the file to her secondary pad, then checked station diagnostics.

  “The log claimed there should have been one thousand kilos of processed ore in bay three and ten thousand kilos raw in bay four. Sabotage never touched the stockpiles.”

  Maka frowned. “We didn’t find a fraction of that.”

  “I know,” Davikar said. “Either the system still showed the original plan and the ore never arrived because of the collapse… or the corrupted data is hiding where it really went.”

  She kept digging. Her screen flashed red.

  “Captain, there’s more. The station’s power grid had been rerouted to a hidden subroutine tied to that encrypted file. Someone wanted this place to broadcast something.”

  “Broadcast what?” Selene asked sharply.

  “Not sure yet, ma’am. It could be the message we keep hearing… or something worse.”

  Tsala shifted, uneasy. “Lieutenant, we’re done here. Wrap it up.”

  Anjali nodded and saved the last packet. “Captain, I’ve got everything I can for now. Sabotage confirmed, but this glyph and subroutine are bigger than we thought. Permission to return to the Hope and work on it with Comms?”

  “Granted,” Selene replied. “Lieutenant Maka, escort her back. Stay alert.”

  Tsala motioned toward the hatch. “Move, Lieutenant.”

  Anjali followed, holo-pad clutched tight, the serpent glyph still burning behind her eyes. The control-room consoles dimmed behind them. Through the viewport, Ceres watched, patient and cold, its secrets still buried.

  #

  The docking bay was very busy. Pairs of crewmen guided grav sleds loaded with containers of processed ore. McAlister stood off to the side, keeping tally on his holo-pad. Navarro stood beside him, NPH-R held at the ready.

  “Alright, lads, we’re burning daylight,” Jax barked, Scottish brogue thick. “Two containers per trip, all three thousand kilos to the Hope’s hold. Keep it steady, no drops.”

  His team manoeuvred the anti-grav sleds, locking crates into place with a low hum.

  Navarro glanced around the silent bay. “By my estimation, bay three is clear and we’re working on bay four now. But something isn’t right. It’s too quiet.”

  Jax flashed a grin. “Quiet was fine by me, Navarro. Meant no surprises.”

  A container clicked home. He marked it off. “Bridge, McAlister. One thousand kilos processed are aboard. The first two hundred raw ore are moving. Eighteen hundred more to go.”

  Selene’s voice returned crisp. “Good work, Lieutenant. Stay sharp.”

  Jax nodded, eyes flicking toward Ceres’ shadowed bulk beyond the force-field. Something about those craters felt wrong, but he shook it off and waved the next sled forward.

  #

  The med-bay’s sterile hum wrapped around the examination table. Beneath a thermal sheet lay the frozen corpse from Ceres station. Amaya Maekawa prepped her autopsy tools while the scanner glowed soft blue. Ensign Ryde stood guard at the door, NPH-R pointed down, watching the thermal unit hum as it thawed the body. Ceres’ icy weight seemed to press against the hull itself.

  “Ensign Ryde, you’re clear once thawing is complete,” Amaya said, voice calm but razor-focused.

  Ryde nodded. “Understood, Doc.” He stepped out as the unit beeped to completion, leaving Amaya alone with her team.

  Amaya began the autopsy. Scanner mapped the figure: male, mid-thirties, frayed jumpsuit. Frostbite blackened fingertips and lips. “Exposure is evident,” she murmured, slicing into the torso. Congealed blood welled. “Severe internal hemorrhaging… renal artery severed.”

  She probed deeper and froze. A clean puncture marred the lower back. “This was a stab wound, deliberate, precise. The cold hid it until now.” Her tech logged the findings, eyes wide.

  A vision slammed into her: stone steps under a crimson sky, a shadowed figure wearing Vortek’s face. She steadied herself, heart racing, and pulled a crumpled note from the jumpsuit pocket.

  “Vortek’s Dream” and beneath it, the faint serpent glyph.

  Another flash: Amaya facing a man in a dim lab, gestures sharp, tension electric. She blinked it away, breath shallow.

  “Run tissue samples,” she ordered. “Check for toxins or anomalies.”

  The scanner hummed. A third vision flared Vortek standing on the Hope’s bridge, serpent glyph glowing behind him. “Focus,” she muttered, turning to the console. “Run facial recognition. Now.”

  The scanner beeped. Hope archives scrolled… and stopped.

  Dr. Elias Vortek. The rogue scientist behind the Flux Drive. Amaya’s breath caught. The visions collided, steps, lab, bridge. She slammed the comm button and bolted for the door.

  “Senior staff to the Apex Chamber emergency! I repeat, senior staff to the Apex Chamber!” Her team froze, stunned, as she sprinted out. Behind her, the corpse lay still beneath the thermal sheet, Ceres’ secrets finally thawed and staring.