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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/confusedkorvex on 2024-10-28 18:14:43+00:00.

"What do you think it is?" Malark pondered as she emptied the sand from her boots.

"I'm still not sure," Sonul replied, his head buried deep in the handheld tracker, "We're getting close to the signal but I can't decipher it through all this noise and feedback."

The two scavengers had been tracking the faint signal through the desert for well over four hours as the sun began to set. Heavy winds slowed their steps, making the journey a sluggish trek up this final dune before their destination. Malark wiped away the layer of dust that had covered her goggles and hurriedly caught up to Sonul, who was a few metres ahead distracted with navigation duties.

"I'm hoping we can carry whatever this is back to the ship," He said, as she trudged along beside him, "The last thing we need is to be stuck here throughout the night, you've heard the stories of what happens in this desert."

"Yeah, but they are probably false," She snarked, turning to face him, "You know, tales to keep children away from exploring the dunes. Besides the only thing you'll find here is debris from the war, a war that we had no choice fighting in."

A loud silence grew between the two, only broken by the panting of breath and heavy footsteps. The war was a delicate subject for Sonul, in part due to him being raised by humans. Malark on the other hand was as Khoran as you could get. Unlike her counterpart, she grew up on the homeworld and if not for the war and becoming a scavenger, she easily would've lived out her life there as well.

"Sorry," She quietly apologised, "I shouldn't have said that. I know you don't agree with what they did."

Sonul gave a nod of acceptance as the duo reached the lip of the dune. At least that's what they thought it was. What was thought to be a dune, was a large crater at least 50 metres deep. Right in the centre was a distant object, but they were too far away to make out what it was. A beeping from the tracker only confirmed that this was what they were looking for. Fed up with the constant noise Sonul stuffed the tracker into his pack, now certain this is where the signal is originating from.

"Brace yourself, this is going to be a fun descent" He jested as they navigated down the steep bank of the crater, losing their footing a few times no thanks to their slightly exhausted physical states.

The sun was reaching its last few minutes of light as it painted the sky in a rich, deep amber. It would only be a short while before Malark and Sonul lost its warm protection, making this expedition all the more dangerous. Whether the stories were true or false, it was ill-advised to travel the desert at night. Tales tell of brave yet foolish adventurers trapped beneath the sand, or the bones of ancient beasts returning to life roaming their once owned barren landscape. Realistically the plummeting temperatures are what you'd need to look out for. Nevertheless, this was just about the last place you want to be stuck in.

Now at the bottom of the crater, the scavengers finally got a clear look at what they were tracking. It was the wreckage of a fighter starship, a relic from the war. This vessel was part of the Galactic Federation Fleet, with the faded insignia on its wing barely poking through the sand. It looked to have suffered a fatal crash as the ship was torn in half, the other missing side presumably buried deep beneath the crater. What remained was the cockpit and a few heavy-duty storage crates nestled in the ground.

"Woah, they went down rough. Must've been one hell of a crash," Sonul speculated, moving through the wreckage towards the crates, "Hmm... these storage units are still locked. Looks like we're the first ones here."

Malark cautiously followed, appearing to take no interest in the ship.

"Just like I said earlier, it's only some debris from the war," She muttered, perhaps expecting something more grand or mysterious, "Come on, we should probably get out of here. Don't want to be stuck here in the night."

"Oh, so now you believe the stories," He joked, breaking the seal to one of the smaller storage crates, "Don't you want to see what that signal was? Even if it's nothing, I'm sure there are still some supplies we can take."

Lifting the lid on the crate revealed a small collection of tightly packed rations of food and water, long past its prime. "Well, if we are desperate," He said, rummaging through the box, "At least we've got these to top up our supply. Not sure if they are still good though."

As Sonul closed the lid to the food packs, moving swiftly to the next storage crate, Malark slowly approached the open hole that would've been the door to the cockpit. A sense of dread grew over her as she entered the dimly lit flight deck. Stepping foot into the ship of the people she had come to hate as a child was not high up on her list of things to do. At the least, it would provide shelter from the wind. The cockpit itself was dusty and a mess, with its flight controls and general systems badly damaged. Inside there was little to no noise, apart from the now faint whistle of the wind. There was a cluster of exposed wires and cables strewn across the floor, thankfully it seemed there was no power. Being electrocuted also wasn't high on her list. Grabbing a flashlight from the small pack by her waist, Malark took a closer look at what remained of the vessel, before letting out a slight scream.

Slumped on the flight chair was the skeletal remains of the ship's pilot. Their uniform was in tatters, and the pilot appeared to have crafted a makeshift bandage wrapped around their head using materials from the suit. Despite being here for a while, stains of old blood were still clearly visible on their uniform and the sand-covered navigation console.

"Are you alright?" Sonul shouted as he dashed into the cockpit, "I heard a scream, what happened?"

Very quickly noticing the cause of this distress, he approached the pilot. Cautiously, he positioned the skeleton back onto the chair. A whirring noise followed by a spark from the cables on the floor took the duo by complete surprise as a vast array of lights lit up the ship, the control surfaces returning to life. Dim emergency lighting slowly faded in as a heavy door slammed across the doorway. They both slowly backed towards the now blocked-off entryway, recovering from the scare.

"It’s still got power somehow, that's... good?" Sonul questioned, taking in deep breaths, "Looks like we are trapped here though. Let's take a look around, see if there is a way out of here."

Carefully stepping over the wires, he made his way to the front window which was half buried in sand. By now the sun had well and truly set as the amber sky turned a deep blue. Looking through the glass, all you could see were the walls of the crater sloping up high. The dull hum of the craft had settled as the control panels flashed a red emergency warning.

"I don't understand how this flight deck has power," Malark wondered as she slumped back against the wall of the vessel.

"Me neither, I've never come across this before." He responded, studying the panel in front of the pilot with intrigue, "Most of the time with wrecks like these the ships are completely dead, destroyed either above the planet or by the impact. This is fascinating."

Malark reluctantly dragged herself off the ground and made her way next to Sonul, leaning against a monitor above the control panel.

"What do you reckon?" She began, "Do you think the Federation had access to this kind of technology? Power from seemingly nowhere, ships that could still fly after being shot down. It would explain how they seized our world and slaughtered our people in just a few months."

"No, I don't think so," He dismissed, motioning to the display next to her, "If you look here, there aren't any energy readings at all. Something else is providing the ship with power."

The tracker in his pack started to blare a constant beep. Pulling it out, it pointed towards a small spot in the corner of the cockpit.

"Perhaps something like this."

Steadily moving past the pilot and delving into the corner, the blips grew more frequent until they hit a consistent tone. Tucked behind a loose metal grate was a device hardwired into the ship, a communicator. Sonul delicately picked up the device which was miraculously intact. Wiping away some dust, he showed Malark his find.

"How can that power an entire ship?" She said as Sonul examined the gadget. The small Federation-issued communicator had been heavily modified to connect a small crimson stone. Whatever it was, it was not Human technology. After studying the gear, he carefully pried the stone from the communicator.

The ship fell silent as the lights cut out in an instant. The beeping from the tracker had subsided, as well as the noise and interference.

"This is it," He stated, "The stone is what we were tracking. Why would a random pilot have such a strange object?"

With more questions than answers, Sonul took another look at the device as Malark glanced back towards the pilot's chair.

"Let's see here," He muttered as he scrolled through the communicator, "Looks like our pilot was a guy named Jas. He originated from Selariin but was only recently conscripted by the time the war ended. Gods above, he was only on his first mission. That's unfortunate."

"Why should I care?" Malark challenged, "They are just another human. Plenty of them around"

"He had an unsent transmission," He continued, showing her the ...

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