Starsector Distress Call Novels & Stories

Placing it on the nightstand, her eyes didn't stop staring at Jes, who was reluctant to look at him. "Miss," said Anne in a low voice. "Say it!" Anne scratched the nape of her neck which didn't itch, making a conversation with the indifferent and nonchalant Jes difficult indeed. “If you need anything, please press the green button beside the bed and say your command. If something urgent happens, please press the red button but you don't have to say anything because we will be here soon. " Jes snorted in annoyance, she woke up from her sleep. Lazily staring at Anne. "Are you done?" Asked Jes. "I don't think there is a need to explain at length. You better get out of my bedroom right aw

I didn't care about the structural failure of the facility. "Kael," I hissed at the speakers. "We need the thrusters. Now." Silence. The Shared Heat in my marrow—the biological tether I’d relied on since the Ruins—was a cold, hollow cavity. I pressed my palm to the console, searching for the "Ghost/Admin" frequency. "Blackwood! Don't you dare go quiet on me now!" The terminal groaned. The silver floor beneath my boots vibrated with a low, tectonic hum.

He turned and moved quickly toward the exit The feeds continued showing the engagement intensifying as sector two struggled to hold The analyst spoke “Command signals are destabilizing further” I stepped closer to the console “Reconnect them manually through Ivan’s relay” “Attempting” The system flickered briefly as interference reduced and formation stabilized for a moment Then a new signal appeared on the feed Ivan’s voice came through the relay but it carried strain “Camila… we have a problem” My breath slowed “What is it” “They’re not just attacking sector two”

A voice—the same calm, motherly synthesis—boomed over the water, cutting through the roar of the ocean. "Unprocessed Variable Thorne. Your trajectory is inefficient. You are entering a high-risk zone. Please decelerate to allow for a safe recovery. Your distress is noted and will be corrected." "Their politeness is making me want to vomit," Leo hissed. He stood at the stern, his boots sliding on the icy deck as he prepped the flares. "On your mark, Julian!"

“Doesn’t matter if they do. If they don’t got enough power, then they can’t use it. And the second they bare any fangs at all, we’re gonna slap ‘em dead. We’ve got this in the bag, so quit worrying!” “Templar,” said another officer, “we’ve auto-intercepted comms signals going out of the asteroid. Looks like some sorta distress call.” “Ah, that’s great! Patch us in.” “Coming on main screen… now!” Admiral Chase’s visage appeared on Valos’ main display. She looked concerned, even perhaps frightened. And also a great deal confused by who she saw on her screen. “Wait. You’re not the Federation. Who the hell are… Merlin! You bastard! Trying to steal Prometheus right from under me? Well you’re not

He picked up the horn from the command table and keyed the right channel. "Flight-Ops, Command. I need an armed recon section to scout out the asteroid field up ahead. Further instructions follow" His order was acknowledged before he put down the horn. He looked up again at the DRADIS console. Nothing but random static and intermittent contacts ahead. Lieutenant 'Duster' Andrews walked up to his Strike Viper in the middle hangar deck. The ground crew had already finished arming and fueling his bird and were finishing the last procedures. His crew chief walked up to him. "Hey chief, how is she looking?"

But desperation won. They approached the station broadcasting distress signals. "Please respond," Nova transmitted. "We have critical life support failure. Request emergency assistance." The station responded. Suspicious. "Identify your vessel." "We are transport ship Mercy. Refugee vessel. We need help." "Stand by for security scan." The scan would reveal New Dawn's true identity. Stolen. "Scan will complete in thirty seconds," the navigator whispered. "Prepare boarding teams," Nova ordered. The scan completed. Alarms blared.

Ambassador Xelthar from the distant star system of Syralon spoke with urgency, "We cannot afford complacency. The cosmic storm may have been a warning—a precursor to more formidable threats. We must fortify our defenses and explore deeper into the cosmic unknown." Senator Lysandra, representing a star cluster known for its scientific prowess, countered with caution, "While exploration is crucial, we must also focus on understanding the cosmic energies and their influence on our destiny. We need the insights of the Echo of Eternity to guide us through the uncertainties that lie ahead."

She followed it even though she entered a deserted area where danger was possible. "Where is this?" muttered Mira as she drove her car between rice fields. She then parked it. Mira opened her cell phone to call Jun. But the man never answered until Mira cursed in annoyance. Even so, she never gave up. "Hey! Why do you keep ignoring me!" Mira screeched in annoyance after Jun answered her call. "Sorry," he said briefly. Mira put her anger aside. "Hey! I heard you hired a good hacker. But why is there no result until now?"

The ship he had supposedly died on. On the main viewscreen, an image resolved. Not of the city. Not of the garden. It was a star chart. An old one. And moving through it was a designation: OR-1. The Ouroboros. A new voice, harsh and synthetic, boomed through the core, overriding the garden’s gentle whisper. >OR-1 STATUS: DORMANT. PLANETARY CONDITIONS: NON-STERILE. PROTOCOL 7: FAILED. INITIATING DIAGNOSTIC.