The icy orb of Pluto loomed larger in the viewport as the Erebus approached Pythagoras Station, a massive, spinning structure that glinted coldly against the backdrop of endless space. This was the farthest outpost of human civilization, a research station dedicated to the study of the outer reaches of the solar system. And now, it was our destination—a place that felt as isolated and distant as the predicament we found ourselves in.
The comms crackled to life, a terse voice coming through. "Erebus, this is Pythagoras Station Control. You are cleared for docking in Bay 4. Follow the designated approach vector and power down your engines once you're in position."
"Understood, Control," I replied, my hands steady on the controls as Luca input the final approach sequence. The Erebus glided smoothly into the bay, the docking clamps securing us with a metallic thud. I could feel the slight change in gravity as the artificial spin of the station took hold, a reminder that we were no longer in the deep void but tethered to something—though the feeling was more of confinement than safety.
As soon as we powered down, the airlock cycled open, revealing a squad of UNE soldiers in full containment suits, their visors reflective, their faces hidden. Behind them, a team of scientists in similar suits waited, their instruments at the ready. The lead soldier stepped forward, his voice muffled but authoritative.
"By order of Fleet Admiral Petrov, you are all to be placed under immediate quarantine. Please exit the ship one at a time. Do not resist."
Elena shot me a wary glance, and I could see the tension in the crew rising. We had been through hell together, and now they wanted to separate us, to isolate us like we were the threat.
"We're not going anywhere," Siegfried growled, his hand instinctively moving toward his sidearm. "We've followed orders this far, but we stick together."
I held up a hand, calming him down before things escalated. "Stand down, Siegfried," I said firmly, then turned to the lead soldier. "I understand the protocol, but we've just spent days in a confined space together. If any of us were infected, it would have shown by now."
"This isn't up for debate, Captain," the soldier replied. "This is for your safety and the safety of everyone on this station. The situation on Titan was catastrophic. We can't take any chances."
I could see the crew getting more agitated, but I knew better than to fight this. Petrov's orders were clear, and any resistance would only make things worse. I took a deep breath and made my decision.
"We'll comply," I said, looking each of my crew in the eyes. "Trust them. We've come this far together—we can get through this, too."
Reluctantly, they nodded, though I could see the reluctance and unease in their expressions. One by one, we stepped off the Erebus, each of us immediately flanked by soldiers and led to separate rooms within the quarantine section of the station.
The isolation rooms were sterile, cold—stark white walls with only the barest essentials. I could hear the hum of the station's life support system, the faint vibrations of the machinery working to keep this outpost functional in the unforgiving environment of Pluto's orbit. A team of scientists began their tests, checking every conceivable sign of infection or contamination. They scanned, probed, and asked questions, all while I sat there, my mind running through everything we had encountered.
After what felt like hours, the door to my isolation room finally opened. A scientist, her face obscured behind the visor of her containment suit, gestured for me to follow. "You're clear, Captain. You can rejoin your crew."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and followed her through the sterile corridors to a decontamination chamber, where I was scrubbed down, scanned again, and finally allowed to change into clean clothes. The rest of the crew was waiting for me in a small observation room, looking as worn out as I felt.
But one person was missing.
"Where's Amara?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.
Elena was the first to speak, her voice quiet. "They're keeping her in isolation. They're running more tests. They… they won't say for how long."
A cold knot of dread settled in my stomach. I understood the need for caution—Amara was the only one among us who had come into direct contact with the Entity. But she was also part of our crew now, and the thought of her being alone, possibly scared, made my blood run cold.
"They said we can visit her," Luca added, his voice tense. "But only through the observation window. No direct contact."
Without another word, we made our way to the quarantine section where Amara was being held. The room she was in was similar to ours—stark, clinical, designed for containment rather than comfort. She sat on the edge of the narrow bed, her back to us, her head bowed as if the weight of everything she had endured was finally crashing down on her.
We approached the thick glass separating us, and I tapped on it gently. Amara looked up, her eyes still glowing faintly, a haunting reminder of the connection she had with the Entity. When she saw us, her face softened, but there was an undeniable sadness in her gaze.
"Elena, Luca, Sophia, Siegfried…" she whispered, her voice barely audible through the intercom. Then her eyes settled on me. "Mark."
I tried to smile, to offer some reassurance. "We're here, Amara. We're all here. You're not alone."
She nodded, but I could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. "They're… they're running tests. They're trying to understand… what I am now."
"You're still you," Elena said firmly, pressing her hand against the glass as if to reach out to her. "Whatever they find, you're still one of us."
Amara's lips trembled into a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I don't know how much longer they'll keep me here. But whatever happens, I just… I want to thank you. For staying with me. For not… abandoning me."
"We'd never do that," Siegfried said gruffly, his usual stoic demeanor softening. "You're part of this crew, Amara. We don't leave our own behind."
Luca added, "We'll figure this out, together. We're not letting them keep you in here forever."
She looked at us, her expression a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "I'm scared, Mark. Not just of what they'll find, but… of what I might become."
I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "We'll face it, whatever it is. We've come too far to give up now. You're stronger than you know, Amara. And we're not going anywhere."
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the glow faded, revealing the woman she was before all of this began—brilliant, determined, and full of life. But the glow returned, a reminder that something had changed, something we couldn't fully understand yet.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.
We stayed there for what felt like hours, talking through the glass, reassuring her as best we could. The cold, sterile environment around us couldn't extinguish the warmth of the bond we had formed, a bond forged in the crucible of everything we had faced together. And even though that glass separated us, I knew that we were still united, still a crew, still determined to see this through to the end.
But as I looked into Amara's glowing eyes, I couldn't shake the feeling that the hardest part was yet to come.