Echoes in the Ash: The Vanishing Rim

Tessa Myrren dragged herself over a slick of blood and coolant, pistol clutched in a trembling hand, as the stench of burned flesh clawed at her throat. The outpost was silent, save for the crackle of fire and the wet rasp of dying breath echoing from the darkness. Somewhere behind, Serra Krynn’s boots crunched glass and bone.

“Don’t stop now,”

Serra spat, voice raw.

“Whoever did this is still here.”

A shadow moved behind a collapsed bulkhead, Tessa’s heart hammered, every nerve screaming. A memory flashed: her lover’s scream, cut short by static and flame. Pain twisted inside her, the Force pushing images of carnage and ruin until she nearly retched. She wiped blood from her mouth, crawling forward, teeth bared. The only way out was through.

“I’m not leaving anyone behind,”

she hissed, voice hoarse with fear and rage. Serra’s reply was a hollow laugh that barely masked her panic. The darkness pressed in, thick as oil, as Tessa pulled herself upright and stalked deeper into the ruined station, where death, and whatever had caused it, waited.

Tessa lunged at the flickering console, her fingers moving swiftly over scorched keys. A jagged screech of static shattered the silence, and a flush-mounted panel hissed open. Inside, a small data-streaked drive pulsed with an ominous rhythm.

"Look at this,"

she whispered, voice trembling as she held the device toward Serra.

Tessa gripped the device tightly, her knuckles pale against the cold metal. The drive emitted a low, rhythmic whine that seemed to pulse through the floor beneath them. Outside the console’s faint glow, the outpost’s shadows twisted and flickered, as if the darkness itself stirred in response to the data’s presence.