The words hang in the air between us like an accusation. I think about the moment our hands met, the electric jolt that ran up my arm, the way he flinched as if burned.
“The dreams,” I whisper.
“You’ve experienced them, too?”
The question is barely audible, but it hits me like a physical blow.Too. As if he has the same impossible visions, the same homesickness for places that don’t exist.
“Crystal cities,” I say. “Towers that sing. Starlight that tastes like?—”
“Home.” He finishes the sentence, and his voice breaks slightly on the word. “Captain, I think we’re in more danger than either of us realize.”
The comm system chirps, and Williams’ voice crackles through the speaker. “Captain, Chief Mullen found something in Bay Seven. You’re going to want to see this.”
I look at Zylthar, noting the way his hands tremble slightly, the way his breathing has quickened. Whatever’s happening between us, whatever impossible connection the dreams represent, it’s getting stronger.
And according to him, it’s tearing holes in space.
“Let’s go,” I say.
As we leave the ready room, I catch him looking at me with an expression I can’t quite read. Fear, yes, but something else underneath it. Something that makes my pulse quicken and my skin warm despite the recycled air.
Something that feels dangerously like hope.
CHAPTER 4
SELENA
The artifact sitsin Bay Seven like a captured star.
Chief Engineer Mullen found it buried in a shipment of Christmas decorations, wrapped in what the manifest listed as “ornamental crystal.” But there’s nothing ornamental about the way it pulses with inner light, casting prismatic patterns across the cargo bay walls. It’s roughly the size of my fist, multifaceted like a diamond, and beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache.
“Been glowing since about 0500 hours,” Mullen reports, keeping his distance from the container. “Started soft, but it gets brighter every few minutes. Whatever it is, it’s definitely not inert.”
I approach the shipping crate, fighting the urge to reach out and touch the crystal’s surface. This close, I sense something emanating from it—not heat, but a kind of resonance that seems to sync with my heartbeat.
“Where did this come from?”
“Transport manifest says it originated from the Kepler Colony archaeological dig. Classified as ‘cultural artifacts of unknown origin.’“ Mullen pulls up the shipping data on his tablet. “Captain, I’ve run every scan I can think of. This thing puts out quantum fluctuations that should be impossible for something this size.”
Behind me, Zylthar makes a sound that might be a prayer or a curse. When I turn, his face goes pale, and the markings along his temples pulse in rapid synchronization with the artifact.
“It’s real,” he whispers. “After all these centuries, one of them survived.”
“One of what?”
“The Stellar Heart. The primary Matrix component.” His voice carries reverence and terror in equal measure. “Captain, you don’t understand what you have here. This isn’t just an artifact—it’s a piece of living consciousness, crystallized starlight that holds the power to?—”
“Zylthar.”
Ambassador Jorem’s voice cuts across the cargo bay like a blade. He stands in the doorway, his expression thunderous and his own markings flaring bright amber with barely controlled rage.
“Step away from the alien contraption immediately.”
“Ambassador, this is a matter of station security—” I begin.
“This is a matter of Zephyrian cultural heritage,” Jorem interrupts, striding into the bay. “That artifact belongs to my people, Captain MacGray. I demand you transfer it to our custody immediately.”
“Like hell.” The words come out harder than I intend, edged with a protectiveness that surprises me. “This artifact was found on my station, and according to the spatial distortion outside, it puts my crew in danger. It stays under Starfleet jurisdiction until we understand what we’re dealing with.”
