The deep silence of space was broken only by the soft hum of the Valkyrie IX’s ion thrusters. Captain Rhea Solari stood alone on the observation deck, the transparent steel barrier before her showing a swirling sea of stars beyond. She was tall, clad in the midnight-blue uniform of the Galactic Recon Corps, her raven-black hair tied in a precise braid. But her eyes — golden and weary — watched the universe like it owed her answers.

That silence was shattered by a chime.

"Captain," came the voice of First Officer Jin Korr through her comm, “you’ll want to see this.”

Within moments, Rhea was on the bridge. The crew — a lean team of six — all wore the same expression: confusion tinged with fear. The main holoscreen was displaying a waveform.

“A signal,” Jin explained, adjusting his cybernetic interface. “Old encryption. Very old. It predates the Second Earth Exodus.”

Static hissed through the speakers, followed by a single, garbled phrase: “Requiem… still alive…”

Rhea’s heart dropped into her boots. That name — Requiem — had haunted her childhood. It was the name of the ship her mother had served on. The same ship that vanished during the Andromeda Rift incident half a century ago. It had never been recovered. No trace. No data. Nothing.

“Where did this originate?” she asked, voice tight.

Jin pulled up a map of known space. A red ping blinked in the middle of the Dead Zone — a stretch of space-time distorted by gravitational anomalies and tachyon echoes. The zone was off-limits, even to military science vessels.

“That signal came from there?”

“It’s repeating every 37 seconds.”

The bridge fell silent.

“Plot a course,” Rhea ordered. No one argued.

The Valkyrie IX slipped into warp, tearing through the fabric of space with grace. As stars blurred past, the crew remained on edge. Engineer Nova Leen reported flickers in the core's energy field. Pilot Aris noted gravitational inconsistencies.

The moment they emerged from warp, the temperature dropped by several degrees.

Before them drifted a vessel. Black. Vast. The Requiem.

Its hull was scarred, its engines dormant, but its main antenna glowed faintly blue — alive. Waiting.

Jin leaned in. “We’re not alone out here. This ship’s been broadcasting… but to whom?”

Rhea’s fingers brushed the cold edge of the console. Her mother might have died on that ship. Or worse — she might have survived. Alone, or not.

The boarding lights turned green. The airlock engaged.

They were going in.

Chapter 1: The Signal

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