Not Alone

The woman found a locker against one wall — dented, scratched, but slightly ajar. She wrenched it open with frozen fingers, the hinges screaming. Inside hung a dark gray jumpsuit, standard issue, stitched with a patch she didn’t recognize. It smelled faintly of antiseptic and cold plastic, but it was better than the flimsy hospital gown clinging damply to her body.

She peeled the garment from her skin, her breath hitching as the frigid air prickled over newly exposed flesh. The jumpsuit was stiff, and her fingers sluggish, trembling as she tried to work it up her legs. She had just managed to pull the zipper halfway up her torso when the cryobay’s main door groaned and slid open.

She froze.

Heavy boots clomped against the deck. A man stumbled through the threshold, tall and disheveled, with short-cropped dark hair and an expression somewhere between frantic and mortified. His uniform was rumpled, the security patch on his sleeve half-torn, and a sidearm hung loosely at his hip.

He stopped dead when he saw her — half-dressed, her pale skin gleaming under the sporadic red flashes. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

"I—uh—shit, I didn’t—!" He spun around so fast he nearly tripped over his own boots, shielding his face with one hand. "I’m sorry! I thought— They said the pods were still sealed!"

The woman yanked the zipper the rest of the way up, her heart hammering. Instinct warred with reason, her muscles tensing, ready to flee if he moved an inch closer.

"I... I'm okay," she managed, voice hoarse and uncertain.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, his face flushed with awkward panic. "I swear, I didn’t mean to barge in. It's been... a mess. The system had a major malfunction during transit. Power cycles went crazy. Most of the crew is still out—uh—hibernating. You’re the only one that popped early."

Her brows knitted together, suspicion simmering just beneath the fear. "For how long?"

He grimaced, running a hand through his hair. "That's the thing... we don’t know. The ship's logs are corrupted. Chronometers are fried. We've been trying to get life support and primary systems stable, but it’s..." His voice trailed off as he gestured vaguely at the flickering red lights overhead.

The woman hugged her arms around herself, shivering through the jumpsuit’s thin fabric. His eyes flicked to her movement — a quick, involuntary dart — before he yanked his gaze back up to the wall, staring at it like it would save him from further humiliation.

"You’re lucky you woke up," he said, softer now, almost reverent. "We’re adrift. No FTL, no comms. Just emergency subsystems."

A silence settled between them, thick and cloying. The woman studied him, noting the sheen of sweat on his brow, the barely contained tremor in his hands. He’s scared too.

Still, a part of her — raw, primal — curled tighter around her mistrust. Her body remembered things her mind couldn't: the ache of betrayal, the sharp taste of danger.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, was a low rasp. "Who are you?"

The man drew in a shaky breath. "Corporal Devlin Hart. Security detail. Assigned to the Artemis Dawn..." He trailed off again, something haunted flashing behind his eyes. "Or... whatever's left of her."

Another shudder rippled through the floor, so faint it could have been imagined. In the distance, beyond the cryobay doors, a sharp metallic screech peeled through the corridors, like the ship herself was screaming.

Both of them flinched.

Hart glanced over his shoulder toward the noise, his hand instinctively resting near his weapon. He **** a crooked, nervous smile.

"You probably have a lot of questions," he said, voice pitched too light, too brittle. "But... maybe we should move. This place..." His gaze flicked to the darkened rows of silent cryopods. "This place gives me the creeps."

The woman hesitated — but the low, grinding groan from somewhere deep within the ship left little room for argument.

She zipped up the last inch of her jumpsuit and nodded tightly.

"Lead the way."

And with a palpable air of dread, they slipped into the gloom together, the cryobay falling silent once more.