the meeting
Log Entry: Cycle 88, Sol 9. The In-Between.
After a day of stomach-turning jumps, we arrive. In what looks like a completely unremarkable patch of deep space. Then, the void flickers. A ship blinks into existence. Then another. And another. A handful of them, appearing silently around us like ghosts emerging from a fog.
“We have arrived,” Echo’s voice quiet.
The forward wall resolves. A multi-panel display of the other captains. Grim men and women, all with the same worn, distant look in their eyes. The kind of look you get from staring too long into the void until see yourself staring back. Their eyes pass over me on the feed as if I’m a piece of furniture. I make myself small. Out of my depth here. A liability they are choosing to ignore.
Roberts brings up the audio log from the Starseeker. Dr. Thorne’s terrified voice fills the void, echoing through the silent ships. When it’s over, the captains’ faces are grim but unsurprised. “It’s real,” one captain says, his voice hollow. Another just nods. A gaunt captain, bearded, with a leathery face and a voice that was a dry, rasping whisper leans into her console’s pickup. “Source?” she clips out. Roberts gestures. Vance’s name on the screen. A few of them trade uneasy glances. Jinx. Not an inside joke. A warning. They decided a warning needed to be sent, awareness raised.
They talk after that. The Wires, new trade routes, security chiefs who can’t be trusted. The rasping captain speaks again. “Hearing chatter about a new encryption protocol. Tighter.” An unseen captain scoffs, voice tinny through the feed. “Always another lock. Always another key.” But the old, bearded captain shakes his head. “The Wires…” he rasps. “The giants fighting. We’re just the dust they step on.” The phrase hangs in the air. The strange congregation continued, a business meeting and a support group for the most isolated people in the universe.
The meeting concludes without another word. Then, a strange ritual begins. On screen, each captain holds up a single, worn playing card to their console’s optical reader. A Queen of Spades. A Two of Diamonds. A King of Clubs. I have no idea what it means. A secret I’m not meant to understand.
One by one, the ships vanish, leaving us alone again in the void. An alliance of ghosts, bound by a dead woman’s warning.