[Backpost] A World with a Bluer Star, Part 6

Posted on Mon Mar 24th, 2025 @ 4:37am by Crewman Mateo Gardel

1,438 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: To Boldly Go

Act One, Part Six: Through the Breach

[ON]

The shimmer on the horizon grew stronger.

At first, Mateo thought it was just the wormhole’s influence—light bending across atmosphere, a mirage blooming into shape where none should exist. But as they stepped down the ramp and onto the planet’s surface again, the distortion sharpened. The blue shimmer pulsed in sync with something deeper than light. It breathed.

And within it, half-swallowed by mist and shadow, the outline of the Atlantis flickered like an exposed nerve.

Mateo’s boot hit the ground first.

It crunched against soil that should’ve been familiar—carbon-heavy, silicate-rich—but felt alien now. Every particle of it seemed too quiet beneath his tread, like sound had been swallowed along with time. Behind him, Atresh descended with a low exhale, antennae forward, scanning. Varin followed last, his tricorder clutched a little too tightly in one hand.

No one said a word.

Finch had refused to leave the pod. Or at least, that’s what he claimed.

Mateo had looked back once before stepping off the ramp. The chair was empty. There was no sound from inside the shuttle, no power hum. Just an open door and stillness so complete it felt like a trick of the light.

“Let’s keep a ten-meter triangle,” Atresh said quietly, recalibrating her tricorder for redundancy. “If one of us gets separated—”

“We won’t,” Varin muttered.

“We could,” Mateo said, eyes locked on the horizon. “If what we’re seeing isn’t anchored to this plane.”

Varin cast him a look, but said nothing.

The trek toward the shimmer wasn’t long—no more than a kilometer—but the terrain stretched oddly. Every few steps, Mateo had to re-orient himself, convinced they were closer than they appeared. The angles bent wrong. When he looked down, his shadow split into two and then reformed.

Something high overhead cracked like static. There were no clouds.

“Stop,” Atresh said, holding up a hand.

They froze.

Before them, just beyond a line of jagged stone, stood the Atlantis.

It hadn’t been there. Not a second ago. Mateo would’ve sworn it.

And yet… here it was.

Smaller than he imagined—sleek in that pre-Federation, utilitarian way. No rounded edges. All hard lines and sharp, silver geometry. The outer hull shimmered faintly, as if coated in oil or mist. Several hull plates bore damage, heat scoring and impact fractures that suggested a hard descent. But the lights—those shouldn’t have been active.

And yet they glowed.

Dim. Flickering. But alive.

“Life signs?” Varin asked, his voice hushed.

Atresh shook her head slowly. “Unclear. I’m getting movement, but the density shifts. One moment it’s fifty. Then twenty-eight. Then three. Then nothing.”

“Time dilation?” Mateo offered.

“Or something’s interfering with the readings.” She looked at him. “Something… aware.”

They didn’t say it. But all three of them knew it wasn’t just the ship that had changed.

The air had weight. It pressed against their skin, not like pressure, but like presence.

Mateo took the lead this time. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was the least likely to be taken seriously if someone else went first. Or maybe it was because some small, defiant part of him refused to let this place decide the shape of him.

The access hatch on the side of the ship opened with a low hiss.

No power cycling. No manual override.

It just opened.

Inside, the Atlantis was dark.

Not pitch black—just dim enough that movement would register at the edge of vision and then vanish. The lighting strips overhead flickered erratically, casting brief glows down long corridors before fading again. Mateo stepped inside first, hand on the wall, half-expecting it to dissolve under his touch.

It held.

Smooth duranium alloy. Cold. Real.

Varin and Atresh followed.

Doors lined either side of the corridor. No signs of forced entry. No blood. No bodies. No noise.

“This ship was declared lost in 2158,” Atresh murmured. “It shouldn’t even be intact.”

“It’s not,” Mateo said without thinking.

Varin turned.

“What do you mean?”

Mateo ran a hand along the wall again. “It’s not intact. Not in time. Not in space. We’re walking through the ghost of something that exists in more than one state.”

“You’re guessing.”

“I’m observing.”

A light blinked ahead. Then another. Then—nothing.

They reached a junction.

Mateo’s eyes caught movement. Not ahead. Not beside him.

Above.

He looked up. Nothing. Just blackness.

A chill threaded down his spine.

Atresh took point now, guiding them toward what her tricorder claimed was a central hub—possibly the mess or rec deck. A large space. Less confined. Mateo wasn’t sure it mattered. Whatever this ship held, it wasn’t bound by room size.

They passed a doorway. It was open. Inside, bunks. Personal effects. A boot half-laced beside a cot. A jacket, folded too neatly. Mateo’s breath caught.

These things shouldn’t still be here. Not after six years. Not in this condition. The air should’ve eaten them. Systems decay. Entropy.

But everything looked like it had been set down moments ago.

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered.

Varin made a sharp noise—half warning, half frustration. “Everything’s wrong. We’re past that.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A sound echoed down the corridor.

Footsteps.

Human.

Steady.

The team froze.

Atresh raised her light.

A figure turned the corner.

For a moment, Mateo thought it was Finch. The same build. Same uniform. But this one was older. Lined face. Silvered hair pulled into a short tail. His eyes were clear—but glassy. Like a window that no longer looked out onto anything.

He stopped several paces from them.

His hands were empty.

Mateo stepped forward slowly, lowering his own light.

“We’re with Starfleet. You’re safe.”

The man blinked once. Then again.

“No,” he said, voice dry as cracked parchment. “No, we’re not.”

Varin straightened. “What’s your name?”

The man looked past him. Right at Mateo.

And smiled.

Not wide. Not eerie. Just… tired.

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

Mateo took another step. “Are you from the Atlantis?”

The man’s smile faded.

“I was.” His voice trembled, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else. Grief.

Mateo felt the weight of it like a cold hand behind his ribs.

“What happened here?”

The man looked around slowly, as if expecting the corridor to change shape while he answered.

“It got inside,” he said. “Not the ship. Us.”

Atresh’s voice was soft. “The alien?”

He didn’t nod. Didn’t deny it either.

“We tried to keep order. First it was suspicion. Then... fear. Then we started choosing sides. There weren’t enough of us to survive that long. We weren’t built for forever.”

Mateo stepped forward again.

“What’s your name?”

This time, the man didn’t answer.

Instead, he raised one hand and pointed.

Atresh turned.

The shimmer had returned. But not outside.

It was coming from the corridor wall.

A section of metal pulsed softly. Then split—like it had never been welded shut. A doorway formed where none had been.

Beyond it, darkness.

Then light.

Then movement.

Not fast. Not aggressive. Just...

Present.

Mateo’s feet shifted backward.

Varin grabbed his arm.

But Mateo didn’t move.

The shape in the doorway was humanoid. But it didn’t walk. It glided. One step, then another—too smooth. No weight shift. No noise.

Then, a second figure behind it.

Then a third.

The man beside them said nothing.

Atresh raised her light again—

And it flickered out.

The tricorders followed. One by one.

Power bleed.

All sensors dead.

Mateo felt it before he saw it.

The pull. The shift. The way light bent at the edges of his vision. Like something underneath the ship had moved, and the rest of the world was rearranging itself around that axis.

“Run,” the man said.

His voice was calm. Final.

“Why?” Mateo asked, throat dry.

The man looked at him—and this time, his eyes were clearer.

“Because I didn't."

[OFF - To be continued in Act 2]

---

Crewman Mateo Gardel
Hematology Technician
USS Ahwatukee

&

Lieutentant Atresh
Chief Science Officer
USS Ahwatukee
[NPC - Gardel]

&

Lieutenant Varin
Shuttle Pilot
USS Ahwatukee
[NPC - Gardel]

 

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