Dust & Echoes

Ghosts of the Void: Empty Shell

The Kepler Fringe smelled like old metal and stale air. Rey Kael didn’t bother looking out the viewport. You got used to the grey after a while. Mostly grey dust, broken ships, and the grey haze of nebulae that filled this part of the galaxy.

The Dust Hopper, her ship, wasn’t pretty. It worked, that was the point. Patches covered the hull, proof of Rey’s skill with a welder and her willingness to bend the rules. She steered through the debris, hands steady on the controls. Old Man Tiber, hunched over a console, complained about the jumpgate network.

“Unreliable as a broken promise,” he said, adjusting a dial. His voice was rough, like rocks tumbling. “Took us an extra half-cycle to get past the Corsairs.”

“Corsairs are getting bolder,” Rey said, checking the long-range sensors. “Fewer ships mean fewer patrols. Easy targets.”

Jax, sprawled in the co-pilot’s seat, didn’t look up from his datapad. “Easy if they could reach us. You fly this thing like it’s part of you, Rey. I’ll give you that.”

“Someone has to keep us from becoming space dust,” she said. Jax’s praise always had a bite to it.

Lena leaned against the cargo bay doorway, cleaning her pulse rifle with precise movements. She didn’t waste words. Or trust. Rey still wasn’t sure why Lena had signed on. A good job, a lot of credits, and a quiet agreement to avoid questions.

“Anything on the scanners, Lena?” Rey asked.

“Just the usual junk,” Lena said, her voice flat. “Derelicts. Remnants. The Silent War left a lot of wreckage.”

The Silent War. Rey tried not to think about it. Everyone had a story. Everyone had lost something. She’d lost her family, a colony wiped out by a rogue group. That’s why she salvaged. Why she drifted. It wasn’t about getting rich. It was about surviving.

Their current job was a simple salvage run. A distress beacon from the freighter Erebus, lost weeks ago. Officially, the freighter was gone, lost to pirates. But the beacon still pinged. Rey suspected the truth was more complicated. And potentially worth something.

“Beacon’s getting stronger,” Tiber announced. “She went down near the K’tharr asteroid field. A nasty place. Lots of magnetic interference.”

“Perfect,” Jax said, looking up. “Adds a little spice to my day.”

Rey ignored him. “Lena, get a boarding party ready. Standard gear. Jax, run diagnostics on the drones. I want a look inside before we go in.”

“Always cautious,” Jax muttered, but he was already working at his console. He was a tech genius, able to fix anything electronic. He was also addicted to data. He needed the constant flow of information to feel…something. It made him unpredictable, but useful.

“Caution keeps us alive,” Rey said, a familiar argument.

The Dust Hopper entered the asteroid field. The K’tharr was a chaotic mess of rock and metal, a graveyard for ships and dreams. Rey steered the Hopper with ease, dodging asteroids and decaying ships.

“I’m picking up something,” Jax said, his voice tense. “Energy signatures. Small. Scattered. Scavengers.”

Rey’s hand tightened on the controls. “NovaCorp?” NovaCorp was the biggest, and most ruthless, corporation in the Kepler Expanse. They controlled the trade routes and most of the law. They didn’t like competition.

“No,” Jax said, frowning. “Not NovaCorp. Smaller ships. Independent operators. Looks like a free-for-all.”

That was almost worse. Freelance scavengers were unpredictable. Desperate. And armed.

The Erebus loomed out of the grey, a battered hulk drifting among the asteroids. The ship was a wreck. Hull breaches, scorch marks, and an air of abandonment.

“No life signs,” Lena reported, her voice over the comms. “Ship’s power is off. Looks like everyone left…or died trying.”

Rey launched the drones, sending them through the Erebus’s corridors. The images were grim. Empty crew quarters, stripped of valuables. A mess hall littered with food containers. A bridge, its ...