Another person

The galley door banged open, and a woman stomped inside, wiping grease off her hands with a rag.

"Every time I fix one thing, two more break," she grumbled, tossing the rag onto the counter. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy knot, and her jumpsuit was stained with oil and grime. She made a beeline for the pot, grabbing a bowl and filling it without ceremony.

"Hey, Dev," she said, mouth full after the first bite. "Who's the new girl?"

Devlin leaned back, gesturing toward Sarah. "This is Sarah Mills. Logistics officer. Just woke up."

The woman grinned, a crooked, easy smile. "Name's Wren. Engineer. Glad to see another face that’s not his ugly mug."

Sarah managed a small, grateful nod, clutching her bowl like a lifeline.

Wren plopped down onto a bench, slurping stew noisily. "So that makes... what, five of us now?"

Devlin nodded. "Yeah. Me, you, Sarah, the XO, and Torres from engineering."

As if summoned, another figure appeared at the door—tall, broad-shouldered, with silver threading his close-cropped hair. He surveyed the room with a stern but not unkind gaze.

"Afternoon," he said, voice low and even. "Lieutenant Commander Elias Ward. Acting XO, since... well."

He gave a dry, humorless smile.

"I'm sure you have questions, Sarah. Short version: we got hit. Some kind of EMP blast. Dropped us out of hyperspace, fried a good chunk of our systems. We've been trying to patch things together, but it's slow going."

Sarah's heart thudded painfully. The words "EMP" and "hyperspace" rattled in her mind, stirring fresh dread.

Ward stepped farther into the room, pulling a chair up to the table.

"You're safe for now," he said. "And we're going to get you up to speed. But there's something you should understand."

He leaned forward, voice dropping to a grim murmur.

"We don't think it was an accident."

Ward straightened, his expression darkening beneath the flickering lights.

"We've been getting some strange readings from outside the ship," he said, voice low and steady. "Magnetic waves. Pockets of radiation. Could be a ship, maybe. But without full power to our sensors, we can't be sure. Whatever it is, it’s sitting out there... silent. Watching."

Sarah gripped her bowl tighter, her appetite draining away. She didn't like the way he said watching.

Ward's gaze shifted to Devlin. "Get her armed."

Devlin stood immediately, the legs of his chair screeching against the deck. He moved to one of the secured lockers lining the galley's back wall, punched in a code, and retrieved a small sidearm. He checked the magazine with practiced motions before offering it grip-first to Sarah.

She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the weapon. It was heavier than she expected, solid and cold in her hand. Her fingers closed around it, her mind flashing with memories of basic firearms training back at the Academy. Point, squeeze, breathe.

"Good," Ward said. His voice softened slightly. "We'll get through this. But you need rest, Sarah. You’re no good to yourself—or us—running on fumes."

Sarah nodded, exhaustion pulling at her bones now that the first wave of fear had ebbed. Her body was aching for sleep she hadn't truly had in... days? Weeks? Longer?

Devlin gestured toward the door. "Come on. I’ll find you a spot."

She followed him back into the dim corridors, the ship groaning around them like some wounded animal. They passed darkened rooms and silent junctions, every shadow feeling a little too deep, every corridor a little too narrow.

Finally, Devlin led her to a small cabin. A private room, maybe intended for a junior officer or one of the ship’s doctors. It was cramped but clean enough, the bed bolted to the wall, the mattress bare but intact. A narrow metal locker sat beside it, dented but usable.

"This'll do for now," Devlin said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Door locks from the inside. Don’t hesitate to use it."

Sarah stepped inside, the weapon still gripped loosely in one hand. She turned back to him, unsure what to say. Thank you? Goodnight? Neither felt big enough.

Devlin offered a tired smile. "We'll wake you if anything happens. Promise."

With a small nod, Sarah closed the door, sliding the manual lock into place. She leaned her forehead against the cool metal for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath.

Outside, the ship creaked and groaned, and somewhere in the distance, something tapped against the hull—soft, irregular, like fingernails on glass.

Sarah lay down, the pistol resting on the mattress beside her. Sleep pulled at her, heavy and inescapable.

But in the darkness behind her eyes, the void loomed, vast and watching.