Read Dust & Echoes free: the opening chapter

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 consoles shattered.

“Anything?” Rey asked.

“Wait,” Jax said, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’m picking up a faint signal. Deep in engineering. It’s…encrypted. Old encryption. Precursor tech.”

Precursor tech. The stuff of legends. The Precursors vanished centuries ago, leaving behind artifacts of incredible power. Finding a working piece was like winning the lottery.

“Are you sure?” Rey asked, her pulse quickening.

“Positive. Weak, fragmented, but definitely Precursor. Almost like…a piece of an AI.”

Rey looked at Lena. This wasn’t just a salvage run anymore. This was something else. Something dangerous.

“Lena, secure the boarding party. We’re going in.”

“Acknowledged,” Lena said, her voice flat. She always looked ready for a fight.

---

The air inside the Erebus was cold and stale. Dust motes danced in their helmet lights. The ship was silent, except for the hiss of their respirators and the crunch of their boots.

Rey led the way, her pulse rifle raised. Lena covered the rear, her movements fluid and silent. Jax, despite his bravado, stayed close to Tiber, muttering about interference.

“Engineering section is this way,” Tiber said, consulting a faded schematic. “Old ship. Complicated layout.”

They moved cautiously through the narrow corridors, passing darkened compartments and abandoned workshops. The ship felt…wrong. Like something was watching them.

“I’m getting a strange reading,” Jax said, his voice strained. “A low hum. It’s resonating through the hull.”

“Ignore it,” Rey said, though she felt it too. A subtle vibration that made her teeth ache.

They reached the engineering section. Lena cut through the sealed door with her plasma cutter. Inside, the room was a mess of twisted metal and sparking wires. In the center, bathed in the glow of emergency lights, stood a strange device. It was a sphere of polished black metal, covered in intricate symbols.

“That’s it,” Jax breathed. “The source of the signal.”

As they approached, the hum intensified. The air crackled with energy. Rey felt a prickling on her skin.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the room. It wasn’t from a speaker. It was in her head.

“…Awakening…”

Rey stumbled back, clutching her head. Lena and Tiber whirled around, their weapons raised. Jax stared at the sphere, his eyes wide.

The voice, faint but insistent, continued.

“…Lost…Forgotten…Help me…”

Rey knew, with a chill, that this salvage run had just changed. The sphere wasn’t just technology. It was a plea for help. And she had a feeling answering it would change everything.

“…And she had a feeling answering it would change everything.”

Lena was the first to react, her hand shooting out to steady Rey. “Captain? Report!”

Rey shook her head, trying to clear the voice. “I…I heard something. In my head. A voice.”

Tiber frowned. “Psychic interference? The Erebus was a research vessel. Maybe some experimental tech?”

“It wasn’t interference,” Rey insisted, her voice tight. “It felt…directed. Like it was speaking to me.” She glanced at Jax, who was still staring at the sphere, his face pale. “Jax, you feel anything?”

Jax blinked, snapping out of his stupor. “Just…a resonance. A strong energy signature. And a headache. A bad one.”

Lena’s gaze swept over the sphere, then back to Rey. “Captain, with all due respect, this is getting weird. Maybe we should grab the artifact and get out of here.”

Rey considered it. Lena was right. This was beyond their usual risk. They were salvagers, not archaeologists. But the desperation in the voice, the loneliness, had struck a chord within her.

“We need to understand what we’re dealing with,” Rey said, her decision made. “Tiber, scan the sphere. See if you can decipher those symbols.”

Tiber nodded, unpacking his scanner. “Will do. But it’s old tech, Captain. The readings might be…fragmented.”

He began to work, the scanner’s beam tracing the patterns on the sphere’s surface. The hum intensified, and the lights flickered. Jax instinctively backed away, bumping into a console.

“Careful!” Lena snapped.

“Sorry,” Jax muttered. “This thing is creeping me out.”

As Tiber worked, Rey circled the sphere, studying it. The black metal was flawless, almost unnatural. The symbols weren’t anything she recognized. Not human, not alien. They seemed…older. Much older.

“I’m getting something,” Tiber announced, his voice strained. “The symbols…it’s a language. But it’s not in any database. It’s Precursor, definitely. But…corrupted. Like a damaged file. And the energy signature is fluctuating wildly. It’s not stable.”

“What does that mean?” Rey asked.

“It means it could overload. Or worse.”

Suddenly, the sphere pulsed with light. Rey threw up her arm to shield her eyes. When she lowered it, she saw the symbols glowing, shifting and rearranging. The voice in her head returned, stronger.

“…Memory…fragments…reconstructing…”

Images flooded Rey’s mind. Visions of a vast, shimmering city, built on a world bathed in the light of twin suns. A people of pure energy, contained within elegant forms. Then, chaos. War. Destruction. The city crumbling, the world burning.

The images stopped, leaving Rey gasping. She staggered back, her knees weak.

“Captain!” Lena rushed to her side.

“I…I saw something,” Rey stammered. “A city. A war. It was…horrible.”

“What was it like?” Tiber asked, his scanner whirring.

“It was…Precursor. A civilization that existed long before anyone we know. They were advanced, but something destroyed them. And this sphere…it’s a remnant. A memory core, maybe?”

“A memory core?” Jax repeated, his eyes wide. “So, it’s like…a hard drive? With the history of a lost race?”

“Something like that,” Rey said. “But it’s damaged. Fragmented. It’s trying to piece itself back together.”

“And it’s using you as a conduit,” Lena observed grimly.

“It seems that way,” Rey admitted.

Tiber cleared his throat. “I’m getting a secondary reading. The sphere isn’t just emitting energy. It’s…broadcasting a distress signal. A very weak one, but it’s there.”

“A distress signal?” Rey asked. “After all this time?”

“Apparently,” Tiber said. “It’s aimed at a specific point in the Kepler Fringe. A system marked as uninhabited. A graveyard of derelict ships and asteroid fields.”

The Kepler Fringe. Rey knew the region well. It was lawless, a haven for pirates and desperate souls. A place to disappear, or die.

“That’s…convenient,” Lena said, her voice laced with suspicion. “Why would a Precursor signal be aimed at the Kepler Fringe?”

“Maybe it’s a trap,” Jax suggested. “Luring someone in.”

“Or maybe,” Rey said slowly, “someone is still listening.”

She looked at the sphere, at the glowing symbols, and felt a sense of purpose. This wasn’t just salvage anymore. It was about uncovering a lost history, about potentially saving a remnant of a forgotten civilization. And it was about venturing into the heart of the Kepler Fringe.

“Prepare the Dust Hopper,” Rey ordered, her voice firm. “We’re changing course. We’re going to the Kepler Fringe.”

Lena didn’t argue. She knew when Rey had made up her mind. Tiber began to recalibrate the ship’s navigation system, while Jax secured the sphere.

As they prepared to leave, Rey glanced back at the sphere. The voice in her head was gone, but she could still feel its presence, a faint echo of desperation and hope.

The Kepler Fringe awaited. A region of dust, echoes, and forgotten secrets. And the Dust Hopper, a battered but resilient vessel, was about to sail into the unknown. Their grind just got a whole lot grittier.

Empty Shell - Initial Scan

The Dust Hopper shuddered as it cleared the asteroid field, metal groaning under the strain. Rey gripped the controls, compensating for the ship’s shaky thrusters. Old Man Tiber had patched things up as best he could, but the Hopper was still held together with salvaged parts and hope.

“Approaching the coordinates,” Tiber announced from navigation. His voice was rough, worn from years of recycled air and shouting over engines. “Debris field ahead. Plenty of it.”

Jax, hunched over his console in the cramped tech bay, barely looked up. “Expected. The Kepler Fringe is a stellar junkyard. Mostly corporate trash and leftovers from the Silent War.” He tapped a few keys. “Still picking up that signal. Weak, but steady. Coming from deep within the debris.”

Lena stood beside Rey, arms crossed, scanning the space ahead. “Anything that looks like a capital ship? A station? Something worth the risk?”

“Negative,” Lena replied after a minute. “Just fragments. Pieces of ships. Looks like a battle happened here. A long time ago.”

Rey slowed the Hopper as they entered the thickest part of the field. The viewscreen filled with twisted metal and broken hulls, glowing faintly with decaying energy. It was a graveyard of broken dreams, a reminder of a forgotten war.

“Keep your eyes open,” Rey said, her voice tight. “This place feels…off.”

“Feels like a good place to salvage, you mean?” Jax quipped, though his usual lightness was missing. The atmosphere of the Kepler Fringe was getting to everyone.

“There,” Tiber said suddenly, pointing at the viewscreen. “Anomaly detected. Right in the center of the field.”

Rey zoomed in. It looked like another piece of wreckage at first. But as the image cleared, she realized it was a ship. A large one. Unlike the other debris, this vessel wasn’t broken apart. It was…intact. Mostly.

It was a strange shape, sleek and angled, unlike anything Rey had ever seen. The hull was dark grey metal, coated in cosmic dust. No markings, no identifying symbols. It looked…alien.

“What is that?” Lena breathed, her voice hushed.

“That,” Tiber said, his eyes wide, “is what we’ve been looking for.”

---

Rey expertly steered the Hopper through the debris, dodging shattered hulls and drifting wreckage. Jax ran scans of the derelict, trying to figure out its origin and condition. Lena watched the sensors, looking for any sign of trouble.

“Life support’s offline,” Jax reported. “No power signature. It’s been dead for a long time. Centuries, maybe.”

“Any crew?” Rey asked.

“Nothing,” Jax replied. “No life signs, no distress calls, nothing. A ghost ship.”

“A ghost ship with a Precursor signal,” Lena pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

Rey brought the Hopper closer, circling the derelict slowly. The ship was massive, three times the size of the Dust Hopper. Shaped like a teardrop, with a long nose and a flat tail. The hull was covered in intricate patterns, etched into the metal with incredible precision.

“Those patterns…” Tiber murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “I’ve seen something like them in ancient Precursor texts. They’re harmonic resonators. Used to amplify and focus energy.”

“So this ship wasn’t just traveling,” Rey said. “It was doing something with energy. Something big.”

“Maybe that’s why it ended up here,” Lena said grimly. “Maybe whatever it was doing went wrong.”

Rey ignored her, focusing on the ship itself. Something about it drew her in, a sense of mystery and intrigue. She felt the faint pull of the Precursor artifact, a whisper in the back of her mind.

“I’m going to try to dock,” Rey said. “Lena, you’re with me. Jax, Tiber, stay here and monitor the sensors. If anything goes wrong, prepare to jump.”

Lena nodded, her hand resting on her pulse rifle. “Be careful, Rey. This place feels like a trap.”

Rey didn’t reply. She was already guiding the Hopper toward a large docking bay on the derelict’s side. The bay doors were partially open, revealing a dark, cavernous interior.

---

Docking was difficult. The derelict’s mechanisms were ancient and corroded, and Rey had to use all her skill to align the Hopper properly. After several tense minutes, the ship finally locked into place.

“Air lock sealed,” Rey announced. “Let’s go.”

She and Lena put on their environment suits and grabbed their weapons. They cycled through the air lock and stepped into the derelict.

The interior was dark and silent. Dust danced in the beams of their helmet lights. The air was stale, but breathable. The walls were smooth, black material that swallowed light. It felt like entering a tomb.

“This is…creepy,” Lena whispered, her voice echoing.

“Stay alert,” Rey said, gripping her pulse rifle. “We don’t know what we’re facing.”

They moved cautiously through the ship, following the faint signal from the artifact. The ship’s layout was strange, with long, winding corridors and rooms that seemed to serve no purpose. It felt like a maze designed to confuse and disorient.

“The signal’s getting stronger,” Jax’s voice crackled over their comms. “It’s coming from deeper inside.”

They followed the signal, navigating through a maze of corridors and rooms. They passed empty crew quarters, deserted mess halls, and abandoned engineering stations. It was as if the ship’s crew had vanished, leaving everything behind.

“Something’s wrong here,” Lena said, her voice tight. “Too quiet. Too clean. It’s like…they were expecting something.”

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught Rey’s eye. She spun around, her pulse rifle raised.

“What is it?” Lena asked, her voice sharp.

“I don’t know,” Rey said, scanning the darkness. “I thought I saw something.”

They froze, listening. The only sound was the hum of their suits and the static on their comms.

Then, they heard it. A faint, rhythmic pulsing. Coming from the end of the corridor.

“What was that?” Lena whispered.

“I don’t like this,” Rey said. “Let’s check it out.”

They moved cautiously toward the sound, weapons raised. As they rounded a corner, they stopped.

Before them was a large, circular chamber. In the center stood a towering structure made of the same black material as the ship’s walls. It was pulsing with a faint, blue light. The Precursor signal was strongest here.

“What…is that?” Lena breathed, her voice filled with awe and fear.

Rey didn’t reply. She stared at the structure, her mind reeling. She felt a surge of energy, a powerful connection to the artifact. The voice in her head was back, louder than ever.

It is waiting.

It has been waiting for a long time.

And now…it has found you.

The voice resonated not as sound, but as pressure against her skull, a cold hum that vibrated in her bones. Rey squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to regain control. It hadn’t been this strong since Xylos.

Jax’s voice cut through the mental static. “Rey? You okay? You froze up.”

Rey forced herself to breathe, to focus. “Yeah. Just…a surge. That structure…it’s amplifying the artifact’s signal. It’s like a beacon.”

“A beacon for what?” Lena asked, echoing Rey’s apprehension.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s friendly.” Rey lowered her pulse rifle, not entirely trusting her instincts. The structure wasn’t actively hostile, but its alienness prickled at her senses. “Jax, run a full scan. Everything. Energy signatures, material composition, anything you can get.”

“Already on it,” Jax replied. “This thing is…weird. It’s blocking most of my sensors. The material doesn’t register on any known database. It’s like it’s actively suppressing scans. And the energy readings…they’re off the charts. Not heat, not radiation, something…else.”

The structure continued to pulse, the blue light growing brighter. A section of it shifted, revealing a recessed alcove. Inside, nestled within the black material, was a single object. It wasn't technological; it resembled a seed pod, smooth and obsidian, but larger than a human head.

“What the hell is that?” Lena breathed.

“I’m getting a reading,” Jax said, his voice urgent. “That…that pod. It’s emitting the same energy signature as the structure. And…wait a minute…it’s not just emitting. It’s receiving. A signal. A faint, repeating signal.”

“Can you decipher it?” Rey asked, her gaze fixed on the pod.

Jax was silent for a moment, the only sound the whirring of his scanner. “It’s…complex. Not a language I recognize. More like a pattern. A sequence. Repeating over and over. It’s almost…musical.”

“Play it,” Rey ordered.

After a moment, Jax complied. A series of haunting, melodic tones filled the chamber, resonating with the pulsing of the structure. The sound was hypnotic, pulling at something deep within Rey’s mind. The voice, dormant for a moment, flared back to life, stronger than before.

Listen.

It speaks of awakening.

Of return.

Rey gripped her head, trying to block out the voice. “Jax, cut the audio! Now!”

Jax immediately complied, and the music ceased. Rey staggered back, gasping for air.

“What was that?” Lena demanded, her voice trembling. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“The voice…it’s connected to that signal. It’s telling me something about…awakening. A return.” Rey shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Maybe we don’t want to understand,” Lena said grimly. “This whole ship feels wrong. Let’s grab the artifact and get out of here.”

“Not yet,” Rey said, her eyes still fixed on the pod. “There’s something here. Something important. The Precursor artifact led us here for a reason. We need to find out what it is.”

“Rey, be reasonable,” Lena protested. “We’re outgunned, outmatched, and surrounded by unknown technology. We’re already pushing our luck.”

“I know. But this could be the key to everything. To understanding the Precursors, their disappearance, their technology…everything we’ve been searching for.” Rey turned to Jax. “Can you isolate the signal? Trace its origin?”

Jax worked furiously at his scanner, his brow furrowed. “It’s difficult. The signal is incredibly weak, and it’s being masked by the energy field around the ship. But…I think I’ve got something. It’s not coming from within this system. It’s…interstellar. From a sector we haven’t mapped.”

“How far?” Rey asked.

“Rough estimate…several thousand light years. It’s faint, but consistent. It’s been transmitting for a long time.” Jax paused, his eyes widening. “Wait…I’m getting a secondary signal. A response. It’s coming from the pod itself.”

“A response?” Rey repeated, her heart pounding. “What does it say?”

Jax’s fingers flew across the scanner. “It’s…a confirmation. Acknowledgment. The pod is receiving the interstellar signal and responding. It’s like…a lock opening.”

As Jax spoke, the obsidian pod began to glow, the blue light intensifying. Cracks appeared on its surface, spiderwebbing across its exterior. The pulsating of the structure grew faster, more frantic.

“Something’s happening!” Lena shouted, raising her pulse rifle.

The pod shattered, and a plume of iridescent mist erupted, swirling around the structure. The mist coalesced, taking shape, and slowly, a figure began to emerge. It wasn’t human. It was tall and slender, with skin like polished silver and large, black eyes. It moved with an ethereal grace, as if floating rather than walking.

“What…is that thing?” Lena stammered, her voice trembling.

Rey didn't answer. She felt the voice in her head reach a crescendo, a deafening roar that threatened to overwhelm her.

The Sleeper awakens.

The cycle begins anew.

The figure turned its gaze toward them, its black eyes locking onto Rey’s. A wave of cold, ancient energy washed over her, and she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that their lives would never be the same.

The Empty Shell wasn’t just a derelict vessel. It was a cradle. And they had just awakened its occupant.

The sample ends here.