Chapter 10: Lost Signal

The dim light from the emergency lamps flickered as Sirius Capella pushed the group onward through the winding corridors. Every step echoed faintly, creating the unnerving illusion of unseen movement. The oppressive silence of the facility pressed down on them, broken only by the occasional hum of machinery struggling to remain operational.

“We should be nearing the communication hub,” Akira Tanaka said, glancing at his handheld scanner. His voice was calm but tinged with exhaustion. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes never leaving the shifting lines on the scanner’s display. “If it’s still functional, we can try to send a distress call.”

“Big ‘if,’” Maya Ramirez muttered from behind. Her rifle was raised, her gaze darting to every shadow. “Considering how everything else in this place has been turned into a nightmare.”

“It’s our best shot,” Sirius said firmly, though he didn’t look back. His focus was ahead, on the unknown dangers lurking just beyond the reach of their lights. “And we need to warn the outside world. If those things get off this planet...”

He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air. The team didn’t need the grim details spelled out. They had seen enough of the creatures’ destructive potential to imagine the devastation they could cause if they reached a populated world.

The communication hub, when they finally reached it, was a large, circular room filled with an array of monitors, consoles, and antenna arrays. The equipment was ancient by modern standards, but it was sturdy, built to withstand the harsh conditions of deep space operations. Most of the consoles were dark, their screens cracked or covered in a thick layer of dust.

Akira moved quickly to the central terminal, brushing away debris and inspecting the controls. “This is older tech than I expected,” he said, kneeling to access the panel’s wiring. “I might be able to patch something together, but it’s going to take time.”

“Do what you have to,” Sirius said, scanning the room. “We’ll secure the area.”

Maya walked the perimeter, her flashlight illuminating the scattered remains of chairs and abandoned tools. “This place has been offline for a while,” she said. “But why? Communications should have been a priority during the breach.”

“Maybe the AI didn’t want anyone calling for help,” Akira suggested, his voice muffled as he worked under the console. “If it’s as compromised as we think, cutting off communication would have been a logical move.”

“Logical,” Maya echoed bitterly. “That’s one word for it.”

As Akira worked, Sirius took position near the main entrance, his weapon ready. Tino stood beside him, its optics glowing faintly as it scanned for threats.

“Anything?” Sirius asked.

“No immediate movement detected,” Tino replied. “However, environmental instability suggests potential structural collapse in this section. Recommend expediting operations.”

Sirius glanced at the walls, noticing for the first time the faint cracks snaking through the metal. The occasional groan of stressed supports was a grim reminder of the facility’s deteriorating condition. “Noted.”

“Got it!” Akira’s triumphant shout broke the tension. He emerged from beneath the console, brushing dust from his hands. The central monitor flickered to life, displaying a series of command prompts. “System’s partially operational. I’ll try to establish a connection.”

The screen displayed a progress bar as Akira typed commands. A faint hum filled the room as the antenna arrays outside began to realign, their motors grinding against years of neglect.

“Signal strength is weak,” Akira said, his brow furrowed. “But I think I can boost it.”

Before he could continue, the progress bar froze, and a new message appeared on the screen: Incoming transmission detected.

“What the hell?” Akira muttered. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

Sirius stepped closer, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “Who’s sending it?”

“I don’t know,” Akira admitted. “It’s not coming from any of the facility’s systems.”

“Play it,” Sirius said, his tone sharp.

Akira hesitated, then pressed a key. The speakers crackled with static before a voice emerged—distorted, broken, but unmistakably human.

“—this is—....—OSA Priority One Distress—...—containment has—...—evacuate immediately—”

The transmission cut out abruptly, leaving only static. The team exchanged uneasy glances.

“That wasn’t from here,” Maya said. “That was from another ship.”

Akira shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. That was ground-based. The frequency matches the emergency bands used by surface outposts.”

“Then there are other survivors,” Sirius said, his expression hardening. “But why would they send a distress call to the hub here? They’d know this place was compromised.”

“Unless it wasn’t meant for us,” Akira said quietly. “It might have been automated.”

The conversation was interrupted by a sudden noise—a deep, resonant thud that seemed to come from beneath their feet. The room shook slightly, the vibrations rattling the loose panels on the walls.

“Movement,” Tino said. “Significant seismic activity detected. Source unknown.”

“That’s not natural,” Maya said, her rifle already raised. “Something’s moving down there.”

The thud came again, louder this time. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and one of the monitors sparked violently before going dark.

“We need to move,” Sirius said, his voice urgent. “Akira, can you finish this?”

“Give me a minute!” Akira said, frantically typing commands. “I can send a short-range distress call. It’s better than nothing.”

Another impact rocked the room, and the floor beneath them groaned ominously. Tino’s optics brightened as it analyzed the structural integrity. “Imminent collapse detected. Evacuation strongly advised.”

“Akira, now!” Sirius barked.

“Done!” Akira shouted, slamming the final key. The console emitted a sharp tone, indicating the transmission had been sent.

The team barely had time to react before the floor beneath them cracked, and a deafening roar filled the room. The entire structure lurched as something massive collided with it, and the walls began to buckle.

“This way!” Sirius shouted, leading the team toward an emergency exit. They scrambled through the narrow corridor as the hub collapsed behind them, the sound of tearing metal and crashing debris echoing in their ears.

They emerged into a maintenance shaft, the air thick with dust and the faint smell of burning electronics. Sirius stopped to catch his breath, glancing back at the sealed door they had just escaped through.

“That was close,” Maya said, her voice unsteady. She leaned against the wall, wiping dirt from her face. “Whatever hit that place wasn’t small.”

“We need to figure out what it was,” Sirius said. “And fast.”

Akira held up his scanner, his face pale. “I think I already know. The seismic activity wasn’t random—it’s tracking us. Something is moving beneath the facility, and it’s getting closer.”

“Fantastic,” Maya muttered. “As if this place wasn’t deadly enough.”

Tino stepped forward, its synthetic voice calm but urgent. “Recommend proceeding to higher ground. Current trajectory suggests increased danger in lower levels.”

“Agreed,” Sirius said. He turned to the team, his expression resolute. “We keep moving. If that thing’s following us, we can’t give it the chance to catch up.”

As they started down the next corridor, the faint echoes of the impact still reverberated in their ears. Whatever was hunting them, it was relentless—and it wasn’t going to stop until they were dead.