Patrols along the major warp routes were typically uneventful, which was part of the posting’s appeal. Receiving generous pay and military benefits to float around in a cruiser, admiring starscapes, was a good deal in my book. Our rare bouts of excitement were the occasional warp drive malfunction or medical emergency, neither of which imbued a sense of danger.

The Federation’s presence was enough to persuade criminal sects to steer clear of the main access points. More often than not, smugglers hauled their goods through backwater systems, and paid off local authorities to turn a blind eye. Pirates usually targeted ships departing from mining outposts, since that was simpler than knocking a ship out of hyperspace. Few would dare to flout galactic law under the watchful eye of a patrol.

That is why when my partner Jofi picked up a distress signal from an unpopulated system, we weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary. A mundane mechanical failure, perhaps, or a reckless teenager who had taken a ship for a joyride.

Following standard procedure, I hailed the ship as we came in comms range. “Unknown vessel, please state the nature of your emergency.”

Silence was the only response I received, which made me uneasy. Most pilots were all too quick to respond to their rescuers and beg for help. Maybe their communications were offline, or perhaps they didn’t speak Galactic Common? Whatever the case, it gave me an inkling that this was no standard response call.

“If this is another prank, I swear I’m going to kill those kids,” Jofi growled.

My whiskers twitched at the memory of Jofi, using lavtat leaves to banish “ghosts” from an empty cargo ship. Some local internet pranksters had rigged the ship to play prerecorded groaning noises, and flip the lights on and off at random intervals. Then, they abandoned it and waited for someone to find it; fifteen million views later, the rest is history.

“I hope that’s all it is. I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I muttered.

Jofi stared at the inky blackness ahead, a determined look on her face. “We’ll know soon enough. Ship’ll be in view in a few moments.”

Before the vessel was even visible, our data display lit up with bizarre findings. Strange energy readings emanated through the subspace field, like someone had detonated their drive mid-warp. How could anyone have survived such an incident to send out a distress signal in the first place?

Our sensors homed in on the target, magnifying the image on screen. It was obvious from the first glance that this was no civilian spacecraft. The vessel was a behemoth, with an angular shape that seemed designed to take a beating. My eye was drawn to the plasma cannon on the hull, which was glowing as though it was powered up.

As my gaze turned to the hull, I saw a golden landmass emblazoned on the blue plating.

Several curses slipped out of my mouth. “By the ancestors…that symbol. That’s a Terran ship.”

Jofi’s head snapped in my direction. “What?! Okay, time to high tail it out of here. Buckle up.”

“Wait, hold on! We can’t just leave them,” I protested, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Like it or not, the humans are Federation members, and as entitled to help as anyone else.”

“I’m not racist, Gorsh, you know that. But that is no civilian ship,” she pleaded. “There’s two possibilities. The first is they were testing something dangerous, or this is a trap.”

“You think it’s a trap?”

“Think about it. The ship isn’t answering us, and its weapons are powered on. For all we know, it could be human pirates, luring us in.”

“Pirates this close to the patrol routes?”

“Bold, even for humans. But if anyone would risk it, it’s them.”

I stared through the viewport, where the warship idled in a dead system. It was impossible to refute the logic in Jofi’s words; this did have all the markers of a trap. Humans were the most aggressive species in the galaxy, and the last people you wanted to face in close-quarters combat. If this was a set-up, it wouldn’t end well for us.

Yet some idiotic, soft-hearted part of me couldn’t bear the idea of leaving a sentient in distress. Even a warlike sentient that could snap us in half with a flick of the wrist.

“Send a transmission back to Federation Command. In case anything happens to us,” I said. “I’m sorry, Jo, we have to try.”

An exasperated look crossed her face, but she relayed the message as instructed. “Gods, I hate you, Gorsh. Where is your sense of self-preservation?”

“Gone, I suppose. Suit up.”

There was some discontented grumbling from Jofi as we clambered into our power armor suits. I knew that their protection would be no match for human weaponry, but they could protect against other perils. They would seal us off from any biohazards, and provide us with our own oxygen supply, in case the danger was atmospheric.

My heart was pounding as I picked up my plasma rifle, unhitching the safety. The ship’s computer steered us in to a docking port, connecting with an emergency airlock. I thought I was going to pass out.

“If anything happens to me, I want you to know it’s your fault,” Jofi barked over the headset.

I chuckled. “You always know how to make me feel better, Jo. I promise, I will be crippled by guilt forever.”

“Good. In that case, I’m ready to die.”

She pulled the lever to open the airlock, and I braced myself for a fight on the other side. However, as the door swung open, it revealed nothing but an empty tunnel. There were no humans lying in wait, which at least meant it wasn’t a trap. I took a few tentative steps down the corridor, and nearly slipped on the slick floor. A glance around revealed a healthy coating of frost on all surfaces, as though the ship had been buffeted by a snowstorm.

It was inexplicable.

“What the hell?” Jofi sounded as bewildered as I felt. “What happened here?”

My gaze swept around the room, searching for clues. “I don’t know, but humans can’t survive in temperatures this cold for long. We need to look for survivors.”

With careful steps, I inched down to the edge of the hallway, peering around a corner. A scream escaped my lips, and horror shot through my veins at the ghastly sight before us. The room, which appeared to be a mess hall, was littered with human corpses. Many of them had been killed in ways which, before today, I would have said were impossible.

Several bodies seemed to have fused with objects, their faces frozen in an eternal expression of terror. One man, whose torso was sunken into a wall, appeared to be mid-scream. The bulging eyes, mouth agape, hand outstretched…it took every ounce of my willpower not to flee from the ship then and there. What were the humans messing with?

“Gorsh, are you seeing this?” Jofi asked.

“Seeing, but still working on believing,” I replied.

She was kneeling by a body on the floor, checking it for vitals. “This one, I thought it might be alive. Seems to be the only one not grafted into the structure.”

“Any heartbeat?”

“No, it’s very much dead. There’s a stream of blood from the eye sockets. My guess, the eyes burst, and so did most of its other organs.”

“Ugh. I don’t think we’ll find any survivors, Jo.”

“Me neither. Let’s get out of here…before whatever happened to them, happens to us.”

“Wait. We need to get the data off the ship’s computer first, if we want to figure out what happened.”

“This is way over our heads, Gorsh. I’m not risking my life for a damn ship log.”

“It’s not about the log. What if something attacked them, and it’s still out there? All of us could be in danger. Look, just a quick trip to the bridge, then we can leave.”

There were no further protests, and as far as I was concerned, that was assent. The bridge was likely at the center of the ship, since that was the Terran preference, so we just needed to continue inward. The two of us maneuvered through several rooms, ignoring the grisly scenes laid out before us. If I stopped to dwell on each of them, I don’t think I could’ve carried on.

It only took a few minutes to reach the bridge, but by the time we arrived, I felt like I had aged a decade. The images of body parts and blood-soaked walls were burned into my mind, lodged there for all eternity. The command center was as gory as any of the other sectors; many of the human officers had merged with their workstations, and the others were in a pile of blood on the floor.

I pushed down another scream, trying to focus on the task at hand. The ship’s data needed to be retrieved. Once that was achieved, we could get as far away from here as possible.

The holodisplay at the heart of the bridge seemed like the best station to pull the data from. I walked over to it, careful to step over the corpse slumped in front of it. My hand waved over its sensors, hoping to wake it.

“Access denied.” An automated voice declared, scaring me half to death. “Biometric authorization required.”

There was a handprint reader in front of the holodisplay, which was probably what the computer wanted. With a grimace, I rolled over the body by my feet. It was difficult not to retch hauling a pallid carcass, but I tried my best. The idea of vomit rolling around in my visor did not appeal to me in the slightest.

I dragged the dead fellow’s hand on top of the reader, unlocking the display. After swiping through several tabs, I found the option to transfer all ship data, and selected our cruiser as the recipient. Thank the stars, we were almost out of this mess.

While waiting for the upload to complete, my gaze flitted down toward the body I had utilized. The scar across the right cheek and the missing eyes were new, but I recognized the face anyways.

“Shit. Jo, this isn’t just any human ship.” I paused, drawing a shaky breath. “We need to send word home immediately.”

“What, did you find something?” she asked.

I pointed to the body at my feet. “This guy here is the Federation’s top general. I don’t know what’s going on, but we might be at war.”

Whatever had killed these humans, we needed to figure out what it was, quickly.

Gorsh POV

When the humans took over the military (following the infamous Nova War), they moved our command facility off-world, switching the location every half-cycle. Their stated reasoning was to avoid something called a “decapitation strike”, whatever that meant.

At the present time, we were stationed on an asteroid in an unoccupied system. The living facilities were fully enclosed in a dome, to render the air breathable. Throw in the help of artificial gravity and you could forget that you weren’t on a proper planet.

The Federation’s computer technicians started dissecting the data as soon as we arrived at military headquarters. Jofi and I remained in the room while waiting for the techs to finish the analysis, in case they needed to ask us any further questions. We had already endured a thorough interrogation, which was conducted by a panel of officers. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anything left to tell.

I was relieved that we would get to listen in on the initial findings, and hopefully, receive some answers. Nothing about this fit together. For one thing, it struck me as odd that none of those present were humans, given that it was their ship we discovered.

It seemed I wasn’t alone in noticing that fact. General Blez of the Jatari Confederacy was growing increasingly irritated at the Terrans’ absence, as evidenced by his stiff body language.

“Sir.” Qalo, a young Hoda’al analyst, spoke up with hesitancy. Undoubtedly, he noticed his superior’s ill-tempered demeanor too. “We’ve finished file restoration and created a summary of our findings. I hope you’ll be satisfied with our performance.”

The Jatari general’s antennae knotted together with annoyance. “Yes, yes, you’ve done your job. But tell me, where are the damn humans?”

“I don’t know. They said they’re sending someone,” Qalo replied.

General Blez glowered at the technician. “It’s been several hours. What could possibly be the delay?”

“I asked them the same thing, sir. They said they’re sending someone from Earth, and they needed to pull him out of a meeting.”

“Qalo, how many humans are on this ******* base?”

“Approximately fifteen thousand, sir.”

“Why can’t they send one of them?”

“Because I believe you’re looking for me,” a gravelly voice answered from the back of the room. “Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

A chill ran down my spine as I turned toward the newcomer, and found myself face-to-face with a dead man. It was General Rykov, leader of the Federation’s military, in the flesh; the same human whose corpse I’d dragged across a bloody floor this very morning. His cheek was unblemished by the scar I’d seen earlier, and his eyes were still intact.

A squeal escaped my throat, and, acting on impulse, I dove under the table to hide. Sure, my response wasn’t exactly befitting of a soldier, but it wasn’t every day we witnessed a resurrection.

This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a nightmare that I would wake up from, and then I would laugh at its absurdity.

Even the cantankerous General Blez seemed dumbfounded. “You’re dead.”

“Honestly, I’ve gotten about fifteen calls asking if I’m alright, and it’s getting old.” Rykov flopped down on a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. “Whoever you found, it wasn’t me.”

I crawled out from my hiding spot, trying to calm myself. There hadn’t been a doubt in my mind on the deceased’s identity, but maybe I had made a mistake? Trauma could do strange things to people’s minds, after all.

“Are you sure?” Qalo asked, voice fraught with terror.

The technician displayed an image on the projector, which was taken by Federation investigators. The blood drained from Rykov’s face as he locked eyes with his own mangled corpse. It was unmistakably his visage on screen.

The human sprang from his seat, shaking his head. The poor guy looked like he was about to have a panic attack, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. If someone showed me my dead body, with blood streaming from my orifices, I’d be freaked out too.

“I…I, uh…” Rykov took a deep breath, running a hand through his silky brown hair. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

Qalo hesitated. “Well, most of the files were corrupted beyond repair. We were only able to salvage a small snippet from a log entry.”

“One clip? That’s it?” the human growled.

“I’m sorry, sir. Believe me, I wish we had more to go on, but we might as well take a look.”

The Hoda’al technician switched to the video, which was overlaid by a dreadful crackling sound. The picture was muted, like the lens was fogged up. The words were distorted almost beyond recognition, and were unintelligible in several instances. But I recognized the face and voice of the human general, and he seemed furious.

“We’re all screwed if…what was stolen…home. We’re in pursuit of the cargo freighter Pisces…before the bastards sell...”

The tape faded to darkness, leaving us to consider what we had heard. My interpretation was that this Pisces ship was transporting some stolen goods, and the Terrans were trying to track them down. Perhaps that would be a good lead to start with?

General Rykov’s frown had deepened. “Do you have the timestamp on that log?”

“Pardon? Uh…in human time, it says 5:43 PM,” Qalo answered.

“No. The date.”

“Star date—that must be wrong. It says 13.152.”

“Which is five days from now. I see.”

This entire ordeal was making my head hurt. Did the evidence actually suggest that the doomed vessel was from the future? It sounded preposterous, but then again, so did a man coming back from the dead. The Terrans did love to meddle with things that were beyond their control; maybe this time, it had finally caught up with them.

“You guys can time travel?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Since when?”

Rykov sighed. “I don’t think we’ve done it yet. I know of one project, but it’s in its infancy. There were no plans for an actual test yet.”

“This project. Talk,” General Blez spat.

“Thing is, humans have made some mistakes we’d like to correct.” Mistakes was a generous word. I knew he meant the genocide they had committed during the war. “Some in our government are believers in the multiverse theory. They're building a gate to another reality. Whether that's by finding a parallel timeline, or creating a cosmic undo button: they don't care.”

Blez fixed the human with an irate look. "Of course, your kind all thought punching a hole to another dimension was a great idea. What could go wrong?”

“It is a great idea. Look, if you can go beyond the flow of time and space as we know it: you can change history. You always have a way to turn back the clocks, or a new realm to run to when shit hits the fan. Ultimately, the lesson we learned today, is it works.”

I gawked at Rykov, unable to believe the words I was hearing. “You’re supposed to die in five days, give or take, and you’re chalking it up as a win?”

“Two possibilities exist. Either the timeline is fixed, and trying to change it is futile. Or, the events can be changed. In that case, I’ll just steer clear of any portals and we’ll prevent the whole thing.”

“Prevent it,” Blez repeated. “How can we help?”

“I say we track down the Pisces. As good a place as any to start.” The human clasped his hands behind his back, surveying the room. His gaze locked with mine for a moment, and he offered a slight smile. “This is going to be dangerous, I won’t lie. If any of you want out, now is the time to leave. I’ll understand.”

I shot a glance at Jofi, who, like most in the room, had remained silent throughout the proceedings. There was a wordless exchange that passed between us; her eyes narrowed as she realized I intended to stay.

If it was possible to prevent that atrocious disaster, I had to be involved. Putting our awful discovery out of mind, and returning to business as normal seemed impossible. If I didn't take action, the memories would consume my every thought. No creature deserved such a gruesome fate, certainly not for the crime of curiosity.

Despite her disapproval, I knew that Jofi would stick with me to the end. We were in this together.

None of the individuals present for the briefing budged. General Rykov seemed heartened by the support, and gave an appreciative nod.

“Alright then. Let’s get to work.”

Larcan POV

Nico looked like a lost tourist, slinking around behind the temple, but as with all humans, appearances could be deceiving. If you wanted an item stolen, this was the guy you asked. There was no job too dangerous, for the right price. Call it arrogance or well-placed confidence, but the man believed he could crack any system. Sometimes, he would snatch an item on a whim, just for the thrill.

Fencing contraband, primarily human weaponry, provided him with ample revenue and considerable influence. As for the authorities, Nico lined the right pockets. That allowed him to dodge port inspections, move cargo freely about the outer rim systems, and stay one step ahead of investigators.

I had served the human for years, acting as his right-hand man. Sometimes, that was as a pilot, as a messenger, as a bodyguard. Whatever was asked of me, I obliged. Today, my role was to be his lookout; the eyes and ears for his latest operation.

But the current target, a temple of the Covian species, did not sit well with my conscience. It represented the predominant faith on my home world, and while I was hardly devout, I still clung to the core of our beliefs. Toying with religious institutions seemed to be tempting fate; it was the kind of irreverent action that merited divine punishment. It was no wonder Nico was the only thief willing to accept this contract.

“Boss,” I hissed. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“What, got cold feet?” Nico snickered, waving a hand dismissively. “This is a simple break-in. It will be fine.”

“Simple, sure, but we’re stealing from a temple,” I replied. “What if you anger the gods? Men have been cursed for less.”

The human sighed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t believe in sky daddies. Fairy tales for children, Larcan. Look, all you have to do is sit there for a few minutes, and watch for trouble. Can you do that?”

A growl hummed in my throat. His condescending tone rubbed me the wrong way. “Fine. But you’re making a terrible mistake.”

Nico had scoped out the scene during the day and used his findings to draw up a plan. The doors were wired with an alarm system that would alert police if not disarmed in ten seconds. The priests of the Covian pantheon figured that would be enough to deter any intruders from snatching their relics, but clearly, they had never met a human.

My thieving friend’s plan was to scale several stories up to the glass rooftop, bust a hole in it, and then rappel down into the gallery. Once he had the package, he intended to stroll out the front door, and be long gone before authorities showed up.

I was nauseated just watching him shimmy up a rusted pipe to the roof. There was nothing stopping him from falling to the ground and becoming a splat on the stone pavement. If his grip faltered for a moment, or the support gave out under his weight…

Before long, Nico reached the top and shot me a thumbs up, grinning like the perilous climb was nothing. He hooked the other end of his harness’s rope around a crumbling spire, which rested at the center of the glass dome. I was not convinced that the structure would support his weight, but I doubted he gave his safety a second thought.

Nico drew his pistol and fired several shots through the fragile ceiling. As the glass shattered beneath his feet, he began his descent. The spire was all that kept him tethered overhead, and it was creaking like a tree that was about to topple. It began to tilt in Nico’s direction, and I feared that it might snap at any second.

To make matters worse, the exterior lights of the building flashed on, and the shriek of an alarm permeated the air. So much for a wired door being the only defense mechanism. There must have been some sort of motion sensors inside, activated by his entry. Police drones would be dispatched now, and hovercraft officers would follow shortly on their heels.

We needed to flee immediately, before it was too late. The spire had not given out, and I supposed that by this point, Nico had touched down safely. Surely he would abandon the mission, and we would make a break for it? His species was insane, but I was pretty sure they had no desire to go to prison.

But seconds stretched into minutes, and there was no sign of Nico. The curly-haired human must’ve been in no rush to evacuate, and the buzz of drones was growing louder. Perhaps something had gone wrong? It seemed I had no choice but to leave him, if I wanted to save my skin. My eyes darted around, searching for the best escape route.

At that time, the thief burst through the front door, clutching a miniature statue to his chest. The ceramic figurine looked unimpressive, but an anonymous buyer had offered a sum upward of five hundred thousand credits for its retrieval.

I ran up to him, jabbing a claw in his face. “Are you crazy? You should have left that damn thing. We’re busted!”

“And leave empty-handed?” the human quipped. “Follow me. I know a shortcut back to the canals.”

“It’s too late? See those drones?” I pointed to a pair of discs, about a hundred paces to our left. “They spotted us already. And they have thermal cameras, so you won’t lose them. I told you this mission was cursed!”

“Do you trust me, Larcan?” He frowned as I fervently shook my head. “Whatever. Run, like your life depends on it.”

Nico tore off down an alleyway, and I chased after him. My spindly legs struggled to keep pace with the persistence predator; my lungs were burning after only a few strides. The drones zipped after us, closing the distance.

We passed over heaps of garbage and empty shipping crates that had been left out in the street. The pungent scent of rot was enough to choke my senses. The human was fortunate to have such a weak sense of smell.

A chain-link fence blocked the end of the alley, cutting off our escape. It was nearly twice the human’s height, but he didn’t skip a beat. He mounted it in a single leap and vaulted over to the other side with ease. It was only then that he glanced back, checking on my progress.

I reached the base of the barricade, doubled over from exhaustion. My species had evolved with an aptitude for burrowing into the ground, not climbing. There was no way I was going to make it over that fence.

Nico climbed back up, reaching a hand over the top. “Take my hand! I’ll pull you over.”

“Go…” I panted. “I’m…done.”

The human muttered several curses in his native tongue, then, despite my protests, hoisted me over the fence. I collapsed on the ground, pressing a paw to my side. Instead of abandoning me, like any sane species would do, Nico drew his pistol and fired on the drones.

The kinetic rounds bounced harmlessly off their metal armor; it only seemed to piss them off. Now that they had been attacked, their programming gave them clearance to engage with lethal force. Nico dove behind a dumpster, and not a moment later, a laser scorched the ground where he had been standing. By the gods, he was going to get himself killed!

A police hovercraft glided into the alley, parking itself between us and our exit. The only option now was to surrender, and to hope that the officer would spare us.

A young Jatari male stepped out of the cruiser, wielding a universal remote in his hand. Inexplicably, he pressed a button and powered down the drones. Why would the officer disable his best weapons against an armed, hostile human? Nico might have a chance in a shootout with a single patrolman.

“What have you done this time? Get in the vehicle, before I change my mind,” the Jatari muttered.

To my surprise, Nico lowered his weapon. “Fen! Long time, no see.”

The human boarded the hovercraft, and I hesitantly crawled after him. He seemed to know this Fen guy, so perhaps the cop was on his payroll. Wherever we traveled, corruption was never difficult to uncover; it was an attribute that thrived in positions of power.

Officer Fen settled behind the controls, but seemed to be in no hurry to take off. His body language suggested he was waiting for something, as did the expectant look he threw at Nico.

“Of course.” My Terran friend fished out his holopad, tapping a few buttons. “There you go. Fifty thousand credits wired to your account.”

The officer feigned disbelief. “Fifty thousand? That’s it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! A ten percent cut for a two-minute ride is more than fair.”

“I want a hundred.”

“No way, Fen. Don’t be greedy now.”

“Well, if it’s too much, I suppose I could just take you to the clink.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll give you fifty now, and fifty when you drop us off.”

“No. Full payment now, or we sit and wait for my buddies to show up. Your choice, Nico.”

“Bastard…there, I sent the other fifty. Now let’s go. Drop us off by the bar.”

Officer Fen chuckled, and the hovercraft revved to life. As we floated off the ground, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had gotten away too easily. My intuition told me that fate had a terrible punishment in store for us: something much worse than prison.