Into The Dead Zone

Chapter 34 – Into the Dead Zone

The dead zone lived up to its name.

Aethran Sector Delta-17 had been silent for over a decade—no beacons, no traffic, no rescue missions. Just debris fields and the lingering ghosts of a war that had scorched too many stars. Mira maneuvered the Sparrowhawk through jagged wreckage like she was dancing with death itself, eyes flicking across readouts, lips pressed into a hard line.

Ahead, the Obsidian hull drifted in the dark. It was massive—an old warship, gutted from the inside, its armor corroded and split open like a corpse left in the void. Somewhere in that husk, the Ring had built a lab. A place where they bent minds and rewired loyalties. A place they hoped I'd come crawling back to.

"Allan, keep us cloaked until we dock," I said. "Anna, Orin—you're with me. Mira stays with the ship."

Mira turned. "You're not leaving me behind."

"You're our eyes out here. If things go wrong, I need someone who can fly us out in one piece."

She didn't argue—just nodded and turned back to her controls.

We suited up. Nothing fancy. Light armor, neural dampeners, portable jammers. Enough to survive ten minutes of chaos, maybe fifteen if we got lucky. Anna slid her helmet on with a grin that was more adrenaline than joy.

"This brings back memories," she said. "Bad ones."

"Let's try not to make new ones," I muttered.

We launched in a small pod, magnetically sealed to the side of the derelict. The docking bay was wide open—either a trap or a sign they weren't expecting visitors. Or both. Orin went first, pulse rifle raised, visor scanning every shadow.

The place was hollow. Cold. Lights flickered dimly along the inner corridor walls, powered by some failing backup source. It smelled of stale metal and ozone.

As we moved deeper, I tried not to think about the soldiers who had died on this ship. Or the scientists who now walked its halls.

The lab wasn't far. We found it behind a blast-sealed bulkhead—unlocked. Anna looked at me, eyebrow raised.

"Either they're idiots," she said, "or they want us to see what's inside."

We stepped through.

The lab was pristine. Clean surfaces. Quiet machines humming low. Cryo-tanks lined one wall, each one holding a still, pale form suspended in thick blue gel. Neural interface wires fed into the bases of their skulls.

"They're testing war-bending on sleepers," Orin whispered. "People they've already broken."

I walked to the main console and plugged in our scrambler. Data streamed onto our slate—names, logs, test results. It was worse than I thought.

"They're not just copying my neural signature," I said. "They're splicing it—mixing it with others. Creating new command protocols. Blank slates. Soldiers without will."

Anna swore under her breath. "Weapons wearing faces."

A sudden whir behind us made us turn. A figure stepped through a side door. She wore a lab coat, but the way she stood said military. Her eyes locked onto mine.

"Kael Riven," she said. "I thought you might come."

"Dr. Lys Ander," I replied. I remembered her from the Aethran program—once a loyalist scientist. Now a traitor, or maybe just another survivor.

She didn't flinch. "You came to destroy this. But it's too late. The first generation is already active."

"Where?"

"You'll find out. Soon."

I raised my weapon, but she didn't move. "Shoot me if you want," she said. "It won't change anything. You're already too late."

I hesitated, then nodded to Orin. "Secure her. We'll take her with us."

She didn't resist. That scared me more than if she had.

We pulled the drive from the console and backed out fast. Mira's voice came through our comms, urgent. "Inbound contacts. Six ships. Ring code signatures. Fast."

"Time to go," I said.

We sprinted to the pod, Lys in tow. As we launched back toward the Sparrowhawk, I saw the incoming vessels through the viewport—sleek, sharp designs with the same cold efficiency as the Ring's programming. No insignias. No mercy.

Mira didn't wait. The Sparrowhawk scooped us mid-flight and gunned the engines.

"Strap in," she barked, hands flying across the controls. "This is going to be messy."

The ship bucked and roared, twisting through the debris field. The first blast missed by meters. The second clipped our tail, sending sparks through the rear console.

"Weapons are live," Allan said from gunnery. "Returning fire."

The Sparrowhawk danced between wreckage and plasma. Mira's flying was nothing short of brilliant. But there were too many of them.

"We won't outrun them," I said. "We need cover."

"There's a mining cluster near sector 17-B," Orin called. "Old tunnels. We can lose them there."

"Plot a course," Mira said. "Everyone hold on."

As the ship dove toward the asteroid field, I looked at Lys. She met my gaze calmly, her wrists bound in magnetic cuffs.

"Why warn us?" I asked.

"Because I believed in your mind, Kael," she said. "I still do. But belief can be dangerous."

I didn't like the sound of that.

We broke through the outer ring of the mining cluster, the enemy still on our tail. Mira pulled a dive maneuver that pushed us into our seats, then cut the engines.

We coasted in darkness.

The ships passed overhead, scanning.

We didn't breathe.

And then… silence.

They missed us.

For now.