Chapter 20: Shadows of the Fallen

The battlefield was silent now, but the scars remained.

Wreckage drifted in the void, the shattered remains of both enemy and ally vessels turning slowly in the dim light of a distant star. The dreadnought’s sensors swept across the debris, scanning for survivors, but we all knew the truth—this battle had claimed many lives.

I sat in the captain’s chair, staring at the holo-display. The victory was ours, but it felt hollow.

Kael’Voran’s voice crackled over the comms. “Captain Harper, we are retrieving what survivors we can. Your ship fought well today.”

I let out a slow breath. “Not well enough. Too many good people died.”

“War is never just,” he replied. “But the Kha’reli are weakened. You have struck a blow they did not expect.”

I ran a hand through my hair. The battle was over, but the weight of what we had done—and what was still coming—pressed down on me.

Then Ny’Vara’s voice snapped me out of it. “Captain, we’re picking up a distress signal from the wreckage.”

I straightened. “Survivors?”

She frowned. “Not exactly. The signal ... it’s ancient.”

My heart pounded. “Patch it through.”

Static filled the bridge. Then, a broken transmission—distorted, but unmistakably urgent.

“ ... message to any ... survivors ... the last of us ... trapped ... coordinates ... help...”

And then silence.

I turned to G’Lan. “Can you trace it?”

He nodded. “The signal is weak, but I can pinpoint its origin.” His eyes flickered in surprise. “Captain, it’s not coming from the debris field. It’s from a derelict structure beyond the system’s edge.”

I frowned. “What kind of structure?”

G’Lan hesitated. “A Narn outpost. One that shouldn’t exist.”

Ghosts of the Past

The outpost loomed before us—a station of ancient Narn design, its hull blackened and cracked, half-swallowed by the void. It floated in the shadow of a dying star, its presence eerily silent.

“I don’t like this,” Ny’Vara muttered.

Neither did I.

The dreadnought scanned the station, its readings flashing across the holo-display. The station’s power was almost nonexistent, but there were life signs—faint, but real.

I exhaled. “Prepare a boarding team.”

Kael’Voran’s voice came over the comms. “Be careful, Captain. If this station is as old as it seems, whatever you find inside may not be friendly.”

I smirked. “Good. Neither am I.”

Inside the Dark

The moment we stepped inside, the air was heavy with age and death.

The station’s corridors were dimly lit by flickering emergency lights, the walls covered in strange, clawed markings. It was clear—this place had been abandoned for centuries.

And yet ... something had survived.

We moved cautiously, weapons drawn. The signal led us deeper into the station, past ruined control rooms and shattered bulkheads.

Then, we found them.

Cryopods.

Hundreds of them, their glass surfaces coated in frost, their occupants suspended in time.

G’Lan’s scanner beeped. “Captain ... these are Narn warriors. From a war that ended a thousand years ago.”

My blood ran cold. “Why are they still here?”

A voice rasped from the darkness.

“Because they never surrendered.”

We spun, weapons raised—

And standing before us was a Narn warrior, clad in ancient battle armor, his eyes burning with defiance.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

His lips curled into a grim smile. “I am General Tor’Vek. The last commander of this station. And if you have awoken us...” His gaze darkened. “Then the war is not over.”