Relicts

“What? Hundreds of scraps fall from orbit every day, what is so special about this one?”

Ikora’s brow furrowed, guarded curiosity beaming from her eyes. She toyed with the display in her hands, deft fingers playing over the holographic charts and readings, before she motioned for the other to continue their report.

The man reached over to manipulate his superior’s device, bringing up a plot of the object-in-question’s path of re-entry.

“You see here- We’ve actually been following it for about twenty-four days. Around then we noticed a strange change of course.. Right about.. Here-” His finger pointed out a small shift in the course of the object- “-It’s minuscule really, but objects in orbit don’t just change course. Over the next couple of weeks we watched as it slowly, almost deliberately shifted into a path for re-entry, small corrective changes in course occurring now and again up until it made atmospheric contact.”

	He backed away, letting the shorter figure digest the information. He played with his fingers behind his back, studying the Vanguard’s face as it turned to an expression of understanding, and then intrigue.

“Hmmh..” She raised a hand, eyes flitting over the datapad again- “You mean to say this object was steered into re-entry?”

	The woman’s piercing brown eyes glowed as she shifted her gaze back to the warlock before her, her face turning into one of veiled concern.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m amazed we caught it, really- look again at the course changes, how insignificant they are-”

“So then whoever- or, perhaps, whatever brought this object down was attempting to hide it.”

	Ikora interrupted, immediately setting the datapad down and projecting the object’s atmospheric path onto the holographic display of the command table.

“-Yes, ma'am; they were. But we know where it landed.”

	She looked up at the glimmering projection of the object’s path, following the plot with her eyes from the moment it broke into the upper atmosphere until it vanished from their sensors.

	“Contact the Arachs. We’re going to need a scouting crew fit for salvage.”

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Blackness. Insatiable, screaming, all-encompassing… Peaceful.This is my home. No, my prison.

Nothing howls around me, cold to the touch and devoid of texture. I can make out a light in the black, flickering, burrowing into my mind. At first I take it as a dying star, lost to the very dark that claws at my carapace day after day. Perhaps It put me here for safety, in some twisted step of logic. No matter, I say to myself- the light growing brighter, more insistent; pleading for my attention. I feel it stab into the very flesh of me, wrenching me from eons of slumber, forcing my eyes, my true eyes, open for the first time in centuries.. And I see it. It is no star. The very light that has roused me from my decaying slumber blinks at me, set within a cramped console mere inches from my face. For the first time in memory, I am awake. Truly, undeniably awake. My lungs fill with stale, recycled air, my heart keeping a calm, steady beat. I flex the muscles in my arm, the stiff flesh like steel beneath my skin. It stretches up, moving to flip the radio switch beneath the light, only for my finger to pass through the lever.. before dissipating entirely. I look down past my chin, and can see my body.. And arms, strapped to the cold slab at my back. I remember the light, and turn my focus back to the panel above my face. The light is still flashing, though it seems to take a random pattern. I focus on it, trying to clear the fog in my mind, trying to remember. And then I do. I recognize the coded patterns in the light, the messages within them.

-.. .. -- . -. ... .. --- -. .- .-.. / ... .... .. ..-. - / -.-. --- -- .--. .-.. . - .

DIMENSIONAL SHIFT: COMPLETE

.-. . .- -.-. - .. ...- .- - .. --- -. --..-- / -.-. --- -. ..-. .. .-. -- . -..

.-. . - .-. .. . ...- .- .-.. --..-- / .. -. / .--. .-. --- --. .-. . ... …

...- . -. .- - --- .-. / ... .. --. -- .- ---... / .- -.-. - .. ...- .- - . -..

REACTIVATION. CONFIRMED.

RETRIEVAL. IN PROGRESS.

VENATOR SIGMA: ONLINE

.-. . . -. - .-. -.--

.. -- -- .. -. . -. -

-... .-. .- -.-. . / -... .-. .- -.-. . / -... .-. .- -.-. .

RE-ENTRY.
IMMINENT.
BRACE... BRACE.... BRACE…..