The Boundary Project: The Schwarzschild

Twenty years before the Fall Years itself, Lazarus sort to push humanity towards the stars and deep space, no matter what the cost may be.

The Schwarzschild dropped out of the Aether bridge it had created and travelled adrift in space. On its hull bore the scars of another dimension and while the thrusters kept on firing, they too inevitably ceased activity. As part of the Lazarus Deep Space Project, the vessel had been one of the first to run the prototype Aethron Engine and it was also the first to learn why you never fly into the Aether without protection. It never stood a chance against the innumerable amounts of Aether terrors that once swarmed it.

This gross miscalculation left the bridge in a desolate silence with the autopilot disengaged and a distress signal broadcasting on loop. No one would answer its pleas, not out here, in deep space. It chimed on a continuous loop, but all that responded were the deep rumbling echoes of a struggling vessel. With power operating at a minimum, the corridors looked dark and foreboding. In Cryogenics, a single pod light flashed green. The thawing process began by venting plumes of gas into the tight space. The process of unfreezing someone was laborious and left the newly awakened crew member often weak and disorientated.

It took a while for him to adjust to the ship's gravity, but eventually; he managed to at least lean forward. His hearing hadn't kicked in and his vision was bleary. A thick permeating darkness surrounded him. A sense of emptiness overcame him and he observed the other inactive pods. Wondering why they hadn't been triggered like his. Achingly, he put one foot onto the edge of the pod and propelled himself up and forward, pressing his hand against the glass of another cryopod to avoid hitting the floor. His gaze met the lifeless eyes of its inhabitant, pale skin, and a blank expression. It had been a peaceful death, at least. He saw that the power to this pod had been siphoned off for some reason, effectively killing the poor guy in his sleep. He hobbled forward while a nauseating fear echoed in his steps. The pale, pitiful faces of his fellow crew almost made him collapse on the spot. He finally stopped at one that was very different. The spatter of red clouded the pod screen. He couldn't hold it in, he threw up nothing, agony tore through his throat and it caused him to splutter and cough; tears rolled down his aching face, and he tried to steady himself. He would have to accept the realisation that most of the ship's crew were dead. Which left him as the sole survivor.

His first task would be to find a way to restore the power. If that were even possible; he had no clue how long the ship had been running for in its current state. It had obviously entered a low-powered state in response to an emergency, that much he suspected. This was fortunate for him because if there had been a ship-wide power outage, he'd be among the dead too. If he could just restore the warp core, then there would be hope of finding help, though, in the ship's current condition; he wondered if it could even manage an Aether bridge. He used the floor lights to navigate his way down to engineering. The slight hum of the electronics around here had him on edge as the only other sound came from his black boots reverberating against the metal floor. He had found no other crew members on his journey so far. Except for those once in cryosleep, it was like everyone else had just up and vanished.

The door to engineering required a manual override. It took around ten seconds to open and the grinding metal sound almost made him jump out of his skin. Upon entering the room, he found it separated into two platforms with a set of steps that led up to some computer terminals. The Aether Core's mainframe resided in the centre. Apprehensively, he approached it and brought up a holo projection of the core. The core was intact, but the power had been deliberately adjusted to dangerously high levels. The date on which this occurred was 2134/06/01. He brought up the present date. It read 2167/07/06. This ship launched in 1926… just how long were we in the Aether before it ejected us and what happened thirty years ago to cause the power levels to reach such high levels?

Something out of the ordinary had happened that caused the ship to overload its capacitors and essentially force it into its current state. But there was no clear reason why this happened. It was puzzling. He tried to override the lockdown, but the response he got was a beep followed by the comm system stating, “The contamination is still detected until it is purged. All operations have ceased.”

"What is the contaminate?" He asked.

A few seconds passed before the ship's AI spoke; "There are no records onboard that accurately describe the contamination, only that it cannot be allowed to spread."

“You don't know what it is, so where is it?”

"It’s been contained within the cargo hold. A previous team entered and never came back out. Since then, the cargo hold has remained sealed to preserve this ship and its systems."

“Well, with all due respect, I'd quite like to get this ship back to an operational state. Light the way to the hold and inform me of any developments.”

“I will comply with my established protocols; you register as a rank two engineer, as such multiple access points will be denied.”

“Does that include the bridge?”

“Yes.”

“Scan for other life forms. Tell me, am I alone?”

The silence dragged on for a short while before he got a response. The only sound in the interim came from the pulsating reactor that was built into the mainframe and was fed power from the core. It was also the only other source of light.

“As the only life form detected, you will have temporary access to otherwise restricted privileges.”

He sighed, “It's progress at least; the sooner the power is back on, and this contamination is dealt with, I can get this ship moving again… as for where to go? I’ll cross that bridge in due time.”

The floor lighting came on again, and it dawned on him then that over two hundred years was a long time to be in a deep sleep. The chances of life in the galaxy being the same as it was two hundred years ago were unlikely. For all he knew, humanity could be extinct or embroiled in some intergalactic war. He even briefly entertained the thought that he could very well be the last human in existence. That alone made him sweat a little; at least his bodily functions were kicking in. The route to the cargo hold was a long one. He wasn't sure what cargo could reduce the ship to its current state. Perhaps in the intervening years, they had made contact with something or someone and they caused this. Soon enough, he would have his answer.

Unsurprisingly, the cargo hold door was also in lockdown and instead of making him apprehensive, it only made him eager to discover what lay beyond the door.

“Override the lock on this door.”

The AI buzzed, “Captain Fitzgerald personally authorised the seal. He also left a message should someone try to override the lockdown.”

“Well then, play it.”

"Captain's Log; our engines are running at low capacity and we have suffered an awful amount of power drainage since we were forced to drop out of the Aether. Fortunately, the cryopods are still operational. I have decided against awakening the occupants, as it would make dealing with our problem harder. Integration would take time, besides they are far safer than we are right now. The ship lacks the proper defences to travel for long periods through the Aether space. An unknown contagion found its way on board and began driving people mad. We weren’t made aware of there being any issues until a large mass had begun to appear in the cargo hold. We tried destroying it, but anyone who gets close is overwhelmed and never seen again. As of this moment, the ship is under lockdown. No one is to visit the cargo hold, not even if the voices tell them to - we will become - keep it - locked away, and hope that there are no more power surges…. these storms are getting more intense and I hear things on the outside calling my name… to join… This is Captain Fitzgerald signing off - Audio log END."

“What date was this recorded?”

“2070/06/05,” answered the AI.

“I should have guessed time might be in flux while in the Aether. It must have claimed him and the others. I have no choice but to do this, override the lockdown.”

“Understand there may be grave consequences if you do so.”

“I will face whatever comes my way.”

“Understood, unlocking procedure with be complete in five minutes.”

The doors slowly parted, and he could barely hear it at first—inaudible whispers in a language he didn't understand. The noise soon became louder, pounding on his forehead. An indescribable pressure pushed him to his knees. His vision became blurred, and the sound of a ship-wide alarm echoed through the halls.

“Contamination breach. Contamination breach. Contamination breach-” The AI died, its words slurring in the process to something unrecognisable. Just what the hell is this?

“We need to destroy this thing, whatever it is sir, it is going to -”

The gunshot caused him to flinch; the lockdown had been lifted, and the holo-image of Captain Fitzgerald firing his gun at the hapless first officer faded quickly from his memory. Soon enough, the main cargo door finished opening. He stepped forward into pitch black, and a distinct icy chill travelled up his back. The whispering became louder now, like a chant poisoning the air. He dared not speak for fear of it answering.

Something internally was screaming at him, telling him to get the hell out of there, but he had to see it. He had to. He stopped halfway down the ramp. The containers were only just visible in the bleak darkness. Some were light blue and had faded markings signifying which company they belonged to. They were relics now of a world that no longer existed in the present.

He began edging his way forward and as it got colder, he could see his breath. He knew it was the contagion. I mean, what else could it be?

He heard distant footsteps. The light returned, and he watched as a group of officers observed the contagion, a large obelisk, shaped like a partially open eye and made by inhuman means. It looked distinctly alien as it loomed over them - or what remained of them, at least. Their bodies turned to mush and puddled; it spread outward and consumed the deck. Now he saw figures standing. Impossible to make out. His skin crawled and his mind could no longer resist the call any longer. It fell into the thrall of the True Eye as he joined with the vast consciousness of what was now the Schwarzschild. The lost vessel fell silent once more while continuing on its way.