Voyager Novels & Stories

At nine am, we arrived at Puerto Plata for our first stop on our trip. We got ready to get off the ship to start our adventure. We did add a few to the group, then we first planned for, but I guess the more the merrier is what they say. I don’t know if I agree with that saying. “Freya, how are you feeling about today?” I needed to know if she senses anything. “Ginger, I do not feel any danger or evil about. I think we may have a good day, but I still want us to stay alert.” I had to agree with her on that. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and spirit. When we finally got off the boat, we all gathered off to the side to make sure they knew what we were doing today.

"Who is it?" Philip asked. "It's not a single person, it's the Safari company. I traced the bad report that they released to the public. The information agencies didn't know who sent them that information about us. They called it an unknown source." Gabriel said, "So I got in contact with one of the information agents and made a deal with him, then he sent me the real report. When I tracked it, I found that the Safari company was behind everything." "Alright," Philip said. "Thanks, I appreciate your help."

Several large, spinning, iron-like objects appear on a collision course—luminous blue plasma trails follow in their wake. “There!” Ingoran shouts. All I can see is a minuscule hole in the wall of the approaching Armageddon. “There’s a gap, the eye of the storm.” He fights the controls to realign us towards the pocket. “Power to port,” he orders our engineer Ashmor, who immediately punches the command into the console. I watch as though in slow motion as we edge closer to the void. The distance between the two approaching asteroid streams begins to widen. The seconds tick away; I think of my mother in the farmlands back home, the anguish etched into her face as security led me away to train f

she declared, putting the car in gear and driving toward their destination. *** Meanwhile, the relentless wolves, hot on John's trail, arrived at the valley where he had emerged from the river. Their growls intensified through their mind link connection, confirming his survival. They observed the clear traces of something too big to be an otter or beaver crawling out of the water.

Don't make the same mistakes we did, she told me. Then, I pulled out the letter Eve snuck into the book I was reading at the time,The Time Traveler's Wife ironically enough, right before I left. It sat in my nightstand for the past month, still folded with the same creases. My mother kept yelling at me to read it, telling me that I was a fool to return to Avignon, that I'd be an even bigger fool if I got lost somewhere in Italy. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to read a letter that had goodbyes written all

The Spire’s core was just ahead, a pulsating, white-gold heart that radiated a frequency so powerful it made my teeth rattle in my skull. I reached the maintenance hatch—a circular plate of reinforced obsidian. It was locked with a biometric seal. "Vessel 002 detected," a cold, feminine voice echoed in the pipe. "Identity: Zora Vane. Status: Rogue. Biological purge initiated." The liquid around me began to boil.

The "Eraser Wave" was no longer a theoretical threat. At the edge of the heliosphere, the Voyager probes—humanity’s oldest messengers—had simply ceased to exist. They didn't break; they were un-calculated. The telemetry didn't show an impact; it showed a return to zero-state. "We have eighteen hours before the wave hits the lunar orbit," Elara reported, her face pale under the flickering lights of the Spire. "The Aegis we built in Chapter 80 won't hold. That was a shield against heat. This is a shield against Non-Existence."

The sky above the valley didn't darken with clouds; it turned silver with a cold, geometric shadow. The Mother-Ship, a massive wedge of black carbon with pulsating violet strands, hung above the White Well like an executioner's blade. It was the "Vanguard," the last failsafe Dr. Thorne had put in deep-space orbit. It was set to descend only if the planetary Grid was in danger. As the scout transport rushed into Aethel-Luna's airspace, landing amidst swirling salt-dust and chaos, Elara jumped from the bay before the engines had even cooled.

Report: Quinn The Mojave Desert. United States of America. Crash site of an Axion warship. Designation: "Project Terminus" Six-hundred meters. Five-hundred. Four. Three. Two. One. A jarring impact and a flash of sensors, the crackle of my comms. My HUD booted up with a hum. I frowned. After experiencing the Spartan's intuitive display, my command capsule no longer felt as impressive. This Valkyrie would have to suffice.

"We're here to help. Can you match our position?" Static. Then, a voice—feminine, melodic, but strained with pain: "Origin carrier confirmed. I... my propulsion is failing. The Vanguard disabled my primary systems before I escaped their territory. I cannot slow down." "Then we'll catch you." Jack turned to Katherine. "Can we do that?" "In theory. The Valkyrie has magnetic grappling systems for debris collection. If we can get close enough..." Katherine's jaw tightened. "It's risky. One miscalculation and we both burn up."