The turtle shaped tracked vehicle crept over the sand dune, coming to a halt just at the top. Half a kilometer below it, a wrecked starship lay mostly buried. It was massive in comparison to the Tortrac, but by space vessel size, it wasn’t too impressive. According to the data, it was an old light freighter, likely privately owned. Most of the wreck was buried beneath the red sands, with only the aft engines and a bit of rear bulkhead visible. Time had done a good job at obscuring the vessel. The Tortrac produced a plume of black smoke from the exhaust, and started to trundle down the slope. No lights shone from the vehicle, for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. It slowly made its way down the dune, through the darkness. Using starlight and night optics, the occupancy of the vehicle had no need of conventional lights anyway. The turtle-like machine slowed as it approached the wreck, stopping close to a bulkhead. A hatch popped open from the rear of the craft, and a figure stepped out. Covered from head to foot in brown and tan clothing, with a large satchel on their back, the figure shut the hatch and walked towards the wreck. They produced a small hand held device, scanning a section of the hull.

  “Yup, here is fine.” A woman spoke, slightly muffled by the face covering she wore.

  “Copy.” Came a man’s response from her radio. “All energy signs are negative.”

  The woman removed her backpack, fishing out a tool. Finding what she wanted, she knelt by the hull and tapped a button on the side of the face mask she wore, darkening the visor. She clicked a button, and a pale blue beam, about six inches long, flared from the tool. Carefully, she began to cut into the side of the wreck. The beam sunk into the old metal easily, which hissed and glowed a blinding white. She worked slowly, cutting away a rectangular length of the outer hull, revealing a second layer underneath. She crawled into the small gap she made, then started cutting again. Several minutes later, an opening had been made in the side of the ship. A deep darkness greeted her on the other side. “How we lookin’ Jakob?” She asked over the radio.

  “Nothing so far, but keep your eyes on your scanner Kat.” Replied the man.

  “Will do.”

  Kat placed the tool back in her pack and slipped into the ship. Having made her door in the hull close to the engines, the place she entered was part of the engineering space. A tight corridor ran to her right, towards the stern of the ship, packed with pipes, gauges, and work panels. A fine layer of red sand coated everything. Now that she was inside, she clicked on her light, mounted to the chest rig she wore. She pulled back her hood as well, and strawberry blond curls sprung free. Tapping a button on her wrist-mounted control panel, a beep sounded in her ear.

  She waved her hand in front of her face, and heard Jakob over the radio say, “I’ve got eyes. Sensors show everythings working.”

  Maintaining silence, she gave a thumbs up in front of her face, indicating she heard him.

  Following her narrow beam of light, she set off down the hallway. Nothing in the hallway was anything of interest to her, but she stopped at the first door she came to. It was a basic maintenance hatch, with only a conventional bar lock. The mechanism was stiff from years of neglect, but with a little muscle, she managed to open it. The door creaked loudly as she swung it open, and more red sand blew through the opening. Shining her light through, she saw a catwalk, with a space below for navigating the engine hardware below. Catwalks were not something she liked to use in derelict wrecks, and several had let her down in the past, literally. This one appeared in decent condition however, and as she carefully placed a foot down, seemed sturdy enough. She followed the catwalk, looking for another door to take her deeper into the vessel.

  Sitting in the swivel chair at the sensor console within the Tortrac, Jakob sipped his steaming drink. He made a face at the bitter taste. He hated mushroom coffee, but they had run out of the conventional stuff weeks ago, and he needed something to fight off the caffeine addiction. He watched Kats progress through the camera in her visor, as she navitaged tight corridors and empty spaces. The sensors showed nothing to be concerned with, and considering this ship was a privately owned vessel, it was very likely it crashed here by other means than from the war.

  Jakob scoffed at the thought. War. More like a total annihilation.

  Once humanity had unlocked the secrets of galactic travel, they spread across the stars like rabbits in a garden. Colonies popped up at every viable planet, and their fleet size became truly incredible. When they came across other space faring races not long after, they had been warned. Humanity had every opportunity to listen, but of course, greed and the pursuit of glory was always the downfall of humans. From outside the Milky Way, somewhere from the Local Void, came the end of humanities time in the spotlight. A monstrous force, so technologically advanced that nothing any human ship did mattered. Called “The Silence” but the other sentient races, they swept through the colonies, eradicating any sign of human life. Humans had traveled the stars for only 100-odd years, but within less than a year, they had been reduced to almost nothing. Only the colonies on the edge of the settled systems, or those who hid rather than fight, survived. Twenty years after the war, humans were now an endangered species, left to squabble amongst the ruins. The worst wasn’t just that humanity was destroyed, it was how it was done. The Silence had a sort of death ray, but far worse than what was first thought.

  It didn’t just kill, no. It ripped the soul from the body. In the early stages of the war, it seemed like it was simply turning people into vegetables. Life signs would remain stable, but brain activity was flat. Without being tended to by medical equipment, the bodies would eventually die from natural causes, usually dehydration. Then, shortly after, People began to notice things. Objects would move on their own, places with large habitations appeared to be haunted, and unseen entities were attacking people. Then it became clear. The death ray would strip the soul from a person, leaving them somewhere between life and death. Fractured ethereal moments were found near the bodies, like malfunctioning holograms. The last moments of people’s lives could be seen, as well as moments after. When The Silence departed, the remnants of humanity were left unable to reclaim the places it had lost. The other galactic races had a word for these ghosts, that roughly translated to “Griefwights”, or Grievers, as they were more colloquially called.

  A small beep from the monitor pulled Jakob out of his depressive thoughts, and he looked up. Kat was trying to pry open a broken door, some kind of security hatch that was partially ajar. In the corner of the screen, a red light was blinking. Jakob moved the camera screen to the side, and pulled up the sensor data. A small energy spike had been picked up, somewhere on the starboard side of the ship. He tried to zero in on the source, but it had pulsed only once, likely from somewhere down the corridor Kat was trying to access. He squinted at the screen. It could be some residual energy left in the system that was triggered when she had messed with the door, but it could be something else. This far out in space, this old of a private ship, it was very unlikely it was hit by The Silence, but the couple had learned to not take chances.

  He keyed the radio. “Kat, energy pip, starboard side. You got anything?”

  He saw her freeze in place, still trying to pry the door open. She was listening. Then she slowly lifted her arm and fiddle with her data pad on her wrist.

  “Nothing.” Came her whispered reply.

  Jakob continued to stare intently at the data screen, analyzing everything.

  Kat cranked up the sensitivity of the mic on her equipment, listening for anything. At this point, she had ventured about halfway towards the stern of the ship, and was likely dozens of meters under the sand. Nothing should be moving in here, so any sound could be a concern. The only thing pumping into the speakers of her full face mask was the ambient quiet around her. Her equipment wasn’t as powerful as what Jakob had in the Tortrac, so she couldn’t see the energy spike he had, but her data pad still showed nothing else besides the base background radiation. Rather than continue to pry on the door mechanism, Kat stood up and looked around. Up near the ceiling, about 5 feet above her head, was a small ventilation shaft. Pressing a button on her pad, she activated the magnetization nodes on her gloves, allowing her to scale the wall.

  She pulled herself up to the vent. It was secured only by four bolts, flush against the metal. Not wanting to give off more of an energy signal than needed, she resorted to cutting the slats on the vent open with metal snips, rather than using her laser torch. That done, she heaved herself inside, removing her backpack and pushing it in front of her. Ceiling vents were another thing she tried to avoid, however she was certain the corridor she was trying to access would lead exactly where she wanted. Hearing the vent creak and groan as she shuffled along did nothing to soothe her nerves, but she could see another grate not far in front of her. Peering through, it seemed like the shaft went over the hallway she was trying to get into, and connected to a room on the opposite side. No matter, that door might not be so badly broken. After cutting the slats on this grate as well, she carefully lowered herself down.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She found herself in an office. Furniture, papers, and old tech had been tossed around the room from the result of the rough landing. She gave the junk a quick once-over, knowing she wouldn’t find anything good here. Once, she would have been hard pressed not to try and take back everything she found. But she knew nothing here would sell particularly well, or was useful to them anyway. It was odd however, the amount of stuff she kept coming across. For such an old vessel, there was a remarkable amount of equipment and personal gear in here. She was starting to think the ship may have been bought by a company or group, rather than owned by a small business. The door to the room was intact, and she opened it easily enough. Finally stepping into the corridor, she looked both directions. The hallway was wide enough for two or three people to walk down side-by-side, and had been painted an off white, although now it was coated in red sand. Whoever owned the ship at the end, they had done a fair job trying to give it an official feel, like the main hallway on a military ship.

  She headed to her left, which would continue to the stern of the ship. The hallway was surprisingly clean, with only minor debris from the landing. The walls and ceiling were damaged in some places, but the lack of objects lying around pointed towards the captain having run a tight ship. No pictures, flags, or decorations hanging on the walls. Kat followed the hallway around a slight bend and came across a large open door on the left. Metal stairs lead down, towards the center of the ship. She silently rejoiced. She knew a passage to the cargo hold when she saw it.

  Delving deeper into the vessel, she passed many doors, mostly closed. She didn’t care about any of that, nothing inside would be worth much. But eventually, she came upon a large square door that, unlike the others, sat slightly into the wall. This was a surprise. A normal cargo hold on this kind of ship would likely be more secure, with some kind of digital lock. This however, was a magnetic lock. This system alone was probably worth at least half the value of the entire vessel.

  “You seeing this Jakob?” She asked quietly over the comms.

  “Sure am. That’s a late model system, used around the end of the war. Very strange to find on a ship like this. Be careful Kat, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Just keep the Tortoise warmed up for me.” She replied. “I’m going to try and energize the system.”

  From a pouch on her belt, Kat removed a few tools. She used a simple flathead to pop the face off the control panel on the wall. Then, she plugged a cord from her pad into the access terminal slot. Lastly, she placed a small circle device on the circuit board. She took a breath, then hit the button on the device. It glowed a faint blue, and a moment later, a green standby light blinked on the access terminal. The screen on her pad changed, now showing the start up sequence for the security program. A beep sounded in her headset, followed by Jakob's voice.

  “Energy signatures all over the starboard side. They look isolated, but there’s a few odd balls. I’ll keep my eye on them, but you should be all right.”

  “Copy.” She breathed.

  On her pad, the startup sequence finished, and Kat cycled through a few program settings.

  “Here we go.” She said, mostly to herself, before hitting the “confirm” selection.

  Her pad sent a pulse of energy into the system, and the door powered up. The heads-up-display on her visor notified her of the magnetic energy spike, but that was a good thing. She easily bypassed the security measure in the system, and within moments, the door shuddered. The big magnetic locks inside deactivated, and the gears turned, sliding the large door open. It ground and squeaked, protesting at being opened after so long, before stopping, half open.

  Satisfied with that, Kat powered down the system, and disconnected from the terminal. She stepped into the cargo hold, shining her light around. To her surprise, it was full of boxes. Most of them were still strapped down, but many had been tossed around.

  “Is that…are those Terran Fleet cases?” Jakob asked over her comm.

  Kat approached one of the cases. They certainly LOOKED military, but bore no insignia. Her unease grew. She walked around the hold, looking for some kind of clue. Walking around a stack of crates, she froze. A corpse lay on the corner. It was partially mummified, courtesy of being locked in a cargo hold buried under the dunes of an arid planet.

  “Jakob?” She whispered.

  “Checking.” He replied hastily.

  Kat leaned in, examining the body. No wounds that she could see, but he was wearing a jumpsuit. She carefully started to pull the zipper, but stopped. Peeking out from under his jumpsuit, she could see a mesh blue shirt. She immediately recognized it.

  “Jakob.” She whispered again. “I think this vessel was commandeered by the Terran Fleet.”

  That would make sense, with all the odd things she noticed around the ship. Her hopes of a big payout, after so long without one, likely caused her to overlook things that would normally make her second guess. She pulled the zipper halfway down the corpse’s suit, revealing exactly what she had expected. Beneath his plain olive drab jumpsuit, was a blue mesh shirt. The Terran Command logo displayed over the left breast, with the words “Engineering” below.

  A blip pulsed on her visor, indicating an energy spike. Behind her she heard the sound of static, like a holo-comm unit malfunctioning. A garbled scream cut the silence of the room, full of anguish.

  “Kat, get out of there.” Jakob said sternly. “That ship was hit with the death ray!”

  She was already on her way out of the cargo hold before he finished his sentence.

  Jakob typed away furiously at his console, trying to track down the name of the ship. Naturally, he had already done a brief background check when they accepted the job. But it was incredibly hard to track down fleet information when an official database doesn’t exist anymore. The Terran Fleet had stopped worrying about such mundane admin tasks about the time they realized they were screwed.

  Here! He thought, highlighting some text on his screen

  He keyed his comms, then said, “The Happy Day, originally owned in 2231 by a shipping company. Passed around the business a few times, then was sold to a ‘Terran Spacefaring Org’ in 2280. No record after that, but it looks like this ‘Terran Spacefaring Org’ bought a lot of small to mid size ships, very fast. It’s likely they were associated with, or sold them to, the Terran Fleet.”

  Kat grunted, not bothering to answer as she ran down the main passageway. As she came to the door she tried to pry open, she pulled out the laser torch, hastily cutting a hole she could crawl through.

  Jakob's monitor pinged multiple times.

  “Energy spikes! Kat you’ve got Grievers in there with you for sure!” Jakob yelled into his radio.

  He watched, helplessly, as she stumbled through the hatch and scrambled up a ladder. Ripping his gaze from the screens, Jakob grabbed the handle that hung from the roof above him and hoisted himself out of the seat. Using straps and handholds around the inside of the Tortrac, Jakob pulled himself across the vehicle towards the driver seat, his bum legs trailing uselessly behind him. He plopped himself down behind the controls, and yanked on the shift lever. The big tracked vehicle sputtered, creeping up to the hole Kat had originally cut in the hull of the ship. Jakob turned the wheel and the machine rotated in place, so the back hatch was just a couple meters from the opening.

  Kat sprinted down the catwalk, hearing her visor ping notifications about energy spikes around her. As she passed through the maintenance door into the final hallway, something slammed into her from behind. Falling to the deck with a grunt, she looked over her shoulder. A large wrench lay next to her, likely the thing that had knocked her down. A few meters behind her, she saw a flickering blue form, blinking in and out of sight. It was a man walking towards her on the catwalk. A crackle of static like faulty comm equipment following his movement.

  Kat rolled onto her back, pointing her fist at the apparition. She smacked a button on her pad, and an electric discharge arched out of the device. Kat felt the tingle of electricity in the air, and the ghostly hologram vanished. Just like how Griefwights seemed to feed off energy, they were also susceptible to sudden power surges. Only enough to keep them at bay however, as she saw objects farther back on the catwalk begin to levitate. Scrambling to her feet, she put her head down and sprinted down the hall, arms pumping. She dived through the opening she had cut, hearing objects bounce and ricochet off the walls behind her. She furiously crawled through the open hatch on the back of the Tortrac, shouting at Jakob.

  “Drive! Drive!”