Chapter 21: Would Be Proud

The Vanguard hovered in silence, the aftermath of their encounter with Vorlun’s Shroud weighing heavily on the crew. The moon’s surface, covered in crystalline outcroppings and glowing flora, pulsed gently, as if it were alive. Whispers lingered on the wind, ghostly remnants of a power that had almost consumed them.

Scar stood on the bridge, his hands gripping the edge of the console. His heartbeat had only just begun to settle, and his mind was still racing from the visions and energy that had erupted around the ancient obelisk. “Jefro,” he called into the comms, his voice still rough from tension, “status report.”

In the engine room, Jefro was frantically working to stabilize the ship’s power grid. Sparks flew as he soldered connections and cursed under his breath. “Engines are holding for now,” he replied, though his voice was strained. “But whatever energy we tapped into down there, it did a number on our systems. I need time to get us fully operational.”

Scar frowned. Time was a luxury they didn’t have. “Do what you can,” he said. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

Nova and Cyko stood at the base of the ship’s ramp, their weapons ready and eyes scanning the moon’s strange, glowing landscape. The shadows cast by the crystalline formations seemed to shift and writhe, as though they were alive. The tension in the air was palpable.

Nova glanced at Cyko, her usual calm shaken. “That ritual Arlen performed… whatever it did, it stirred up this place. I can feel it.”

Cyko shifted his grip on his rifle. “I’m just waiting for the next nightmare to show up,” he muttered. “This moon is a ticking time bomb.”

The whispers that surrounded them grew louder, a dissonant chorus that seemed to seep into their bones. Nova tightened her jaw, fighting to keep her fear under control. “We need to stay focused. We’ve faced worse and made it out alive.”

Cyko gave a half-hearted chuckle, though his humor sounded forced. “If you say so, Lieutenant.”

Inside the Vanguard, Arlen sat cross-legged on the cold metal floor, his father’s notebook clutched tightly to his chest. The boy’s face was pale, and his hands trembled. Pip, the small, blue alien creature, perched beside him, its usually bright eyes dim with worry.

Scar entered the common area, his heavy boots echoing in the silence. He knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with Arlen. “You did something incredible back there,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “But are you okay?”

Arlen looked up, tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean for things to get so… out of control. The shadows, the echoes… they felt alive, like they were watching us.”

Scar placed a firm but gentle hand on Arlen’s shoulder. “You tapped into something powerful, something your father believed in. And you gave us a fighting chance. That’s what matters.”

Arlen nodded, though the fear in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. Pip let out a soft, comforting chirp, nuzzling against the boy’s arm. Arlen drew strength from the creature’s warmth, but a lingering dread remained.

Back on the bridge, Nova’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Scar, we’ve got a situation. The whispers… they’re getting louder.”

Scar straightened, his heart pounding anew. “Explain.”

Nova’s voice was tight. “The shadows are moving. They’re taking shape—figures, like echoes of people who were here before.”

Scar’s pulse quickened. He turned to Arlen, who had followed him to the bridge, his eyes wide with terror. “Arlen,” Scar said, “did your father’s research mention anything about… echoes becoming physical?”

Arlen’s hands shook as he flipped through the notebook. “He said the Shroud remembers,” he whispered. “It remembers everyone who ever tried to control its power. If the moon senses fear, it manifests the past to protect itself.”

Cyko, now visible on the viewscreen, was standing near the Vanguard’s ramp, his rifle trained on the shadowy figures that were slowly forming. “Well, great,” he muttered. “We’ve got ghostly moon guardians, and I’m not sure my bullets are gonna do much.”

Scar’s mind raced. The moon was reacting to them, feeding off their fear and desperation. They needed a plan, and fast. “Jefro,” he called, “how much longer until we can take off?”

Jefro’s response was labored, each word laced with effort. “Give me ten more minutes. Maybe less if I don’t blow something up.”

Scar nodded, turning to Nova. “We hold the line,” he said. “No one breaks. We can’t let the Shroud sense our fear.”

Nova took a steadying breath, her grip on her blaster tightening. “Copy that.”

The shadows continued to coalesce, taking on the forms of long-lost travelers—explorers, scientists, and soldiers whose eyes glowed with a spectral light. They moved silently, their feet gliding over the crystalline surface, and their faces were twisted in expressions of sorrow and longing.

One of the figures, a spectral woman in a tattered uniform, stepped forward. Her voice was a hollow whisper that cut through the air. “Why do you disturb our rest?” she asked, her words heavy with grief. “We came seeking hope, and we found only despair.”

Scar felt the weight of her sorrow, but he forced himself to stand tall. “We’re not here to take,” he said, his voice firm. “We’re here to survive. To protect the hope that still exists.”

The woman’s ghostly eyes flickered, and for a moment, the sadness softened. “Hope,” she echoed, as if the word were a distant memory. “The Shroud is a keeper of memories. It will not harm those who honor the past and believe in the future.”

Arlen stepped forward, his heart pounding. “My father believed,” he said, his voice shaking. “And I believe too. We’re not here to destroy or take—we’re here because we have no other choice.”

The spectral woman and her fellow echoes seemed to hesitate, their forms wavering. The whispers that surrounded them softened, and the oppressive energy in the air lightened, just a little.

Jefro’s voice broke the tension. “Scar, engines are stable! We’re good to go!”

Scar didn’t waste a second. “Nova, get us off this moon. Now.”

Nova powered up the Vanguard’s engines, and the ship lifted off, the crystalline landscape falling away below. The echoes watched them go, their expressions unreadable. As the Vanguard soared upward, the whispers finally faded, replaced by the steady hum of the ship’s systems.

The crew let out collective sighs of relief as they cleared Vorlun’s Shroud and returned to the relative safety of open space. Scar slumped into his command chair, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him.

“We made it,” Cyko said, his voice heavy with relief. “Barely.”

Nova leaned back, her hands shaking. “Let’s hope we never have to visit a place like that again.”

Scar looked at his team—his family. They had survived, but they had also glimpsed the immense forces at play in the universe. Forces that cared little for human struggle or ambition.

He turned to Arlen, who was clutching Pip, the creature’s soft purring a soothing presence. “You did good, kid,” Scar said. “Your father would be proud.”

Arlen smiled, a small but genuine expression. “Thanks, Scar. I just… I hope he’s watching over us.”

Scar nodded, his gaze turning to the stars beyond. The path ahead was still full of uncertainty, but for now, they had earned this small victory.